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confessioncassette · 5 days ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @lustylita 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜. 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐞𝐯𝐞��𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 • 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝟏𝟏.𝟔𝐤 (𝐰𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐥)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬, 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐥

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐎 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 <𝟑

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐎 @hurthermore 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄

You stir awake from a gentle caress fanning your cheek. You grumble in your sleepy state, mindlessly swatting away the plume of smoke.

"No, Umbra. Too early..." But he doesn't listen.

Gentle taps over your nose follow suit. Your eyes flutter open to see the tall shadow looming by the door, grinning wide after you shoot him a glare. Body still drowsy with sleep, Umbra's figure fades from your vision as you let your eyelids fall heavily.

Knock knock.

Fucking hell.

"Sleeping!" You groan and roll over in frustration.

"It's me, my dear."

Your eyes shoot open to that familiar staticy voice just beyond the door. You shoot up in bed and the memories from last night fill your head. Alastor's wounds, his exposed chest, patching him up as he closely watched you-

How he called you weak and forgettable.

Frustration bubbles within your gut and heats up your bloodstream. His presence beyond your door stirs a rather conflicting feeling. It's a longing, a sick and silent prayer for more. You're tethered on an invisible string to his existence, it's unsolicited, and it's disturbing that you even crave it. Why do you crave his attention so badly? Most importantly, why do you let his words linger like the pain of a strike to the face?

Is it because he ignores you? Are you really like that? Craving the attention of a man that discards you as a nuisance? Or is it because you notice his lingering touches or the glances in your direction that you hope there's something more. He's a mystery.

You turn to face Umbra, who's still by the door.

The look on your face must give away your emotions because the dark outline of his body shakes in a silent... laugh? Is he laughing?

You scrunch your face at him and mouth, "what?"

Umbra gives a mischievous grin like he's enjoying your flustered state and shrugs before dissipating through the wall.

"What could you possibly want, Alastor?"

Before you could prepare yourself, Alastor takes it upon himself to open your door and saunter into your bedroom. And like a move he's practiced a million times over, Alastor twirls his cane and strikes the ferrule in a satisfying metal clink.

"The fuck!" You quickly cover yourself with the blanket, "you can't just barge in here!"

"Ah! So we could agree that barging in on someone is impolite?" He hums, absentmindedly picking a piece lint off his suit.

You glare at him. His expression's smug when he lifts his eyes to meet yours.

"Happy to be on the same page."

And suddenly you feel small under his gaze.

Even though you didn't mean to barge in on him yesterday, you still feel a tinge of guilt for not paying attention. From what you've gathered, his sanctuary is his studio. You can dislike the man for being a jerk all you want, but you understand the sanctity of privacy.

That raises a question in your mind though. He had mentioned that it was locked. How were you able to walk in anyways? He seemed so caught off guard yesterday - like he wasn't expecting anyone to just walk right in so easily.

"Again, what do you want?"

When your arms drop down to your lap, Alastor's mind is suddenly in a frenzy. The comforter you covered yourself with now lays over your thighs, the top half of your body exposed in your white nightgown covered in red apples - a gift from Charlie, he assumes. He won't let his composure slip, though. Not with your bed head, the way your sweet morning scent lingers in his nose, or the way your nipples pebble underneath the thin material of your night dress.

And oh, that look on your face. It was tragically... alluring. Similar to a riled up feline ready to strike. Was it hatred? Vexation? Have you crawled under his skin like you've done to him?

Your lips press in a straight line and your brows are tightly knit, but your eyes swim with something more - what a great performance, dear.

Damn that beautiful face of yours. So honest.

He gives a strained, toothy grin, hoping to transfer this feeling to his hands that claw at the top of his microphone. Avoiding any and all... distractions when talking to you.

"I need you to come with me to an outing today. Charlie has come up with the idea of a soiree in hopes to recruit more sinners to the hotel." Alastor diverts his attention to fiddle with his cane.

"A soiree? Like a party?" You could use some excitement around here. You swing your legs over the edge of your bed, feet patting over hardwood to where Alastor stands. His chin dips down to look at you through slitted eyes, lifting a brow.

"A party indeed. A night of socializing, dancing and drinking to your heart's content, my dear. I need to make a trip over to Cannibal Town to see if they'd be interested."

"And you need me to join you for that? What about the hotel duties for today?" Already taken care of. I loathe that I need to keep you in sight.

"Seems like the list gets longer each day."

You mumble and fold your arms over your chest.

Alastor's ear twitches in aggravation. In your perspective, his vermillion eyes set a blaze from your brashness. It's a look you've grown to be entertained by. But you'll never know that it's your sweet scent that hits him, an overwhelming saccharine aroma that almost makes him choke.

"Just get dressed and meet me in the lobby."

The walk to Cannibal Town was painfully awkward. Alastor's strides were hard to keep up with as he didn't bother to slow down for you.

Though it was interesting to see the creatures of hell turn tail at the sight of the Radio Demon, some opted to keep their distance and gawk at him as you both stroll along.

You look him up and down with an inconspicuous side eye. And what a man he is.

He walks confidently- not a step out of place. His every move is almost calculated and precise. He towers over you, arms poised behind his back - a soft smile painted across his face. Despite the way sinners cower from him, he nods kindly to them. He's charming, in a strange way.

"About yesterday..." You begin, eyes fixated on the ground.

Alastors eyes graze you over quickly. "What about it?"

"I didn't realize I was walking into your studio. I'm sorry." You owe him that, at least.

"Your own room is right next door and you didn't notice where you were?"

"I-" You don't know how to navigate this. You knew there was a chance that he wouldn't take your apology easily but how do you even explain what you were doing? Does he know that Umbra existed and lingers around the hotel? Surely everyone knows, the shadow is incredibly social.

“You lack attention to detail and manners. I learn more about you everyday." Alastor's attention shifts to a car speeding by, sinners hanging out the window shouting obscenities.

You purse your lips, doing your best to ignore his comment. "Listen, I don't need the attitude. I just wanted to say I was sorry. It was messed up and

it won't happen again."

Alastor blinks. "Apology accepted, little doe."

"How's the bandage holding up?" You can't help but take a glimpse of his torso. Alastor's eyes remain forward.

"It's holding up a lot better than when I did it myself, I must say."

Yeah, maybe learn to ask for help once in a while.

Other than asking your "help" and tasking you with shit jobs around the hotel, you've never seen Alastor ask for a single thing. Everyone always goes to him when they need something. And that strikes up another question as you recall a conversation from yesterday. Why was he helping the hotel if Angel said it was a form of entertainment? Does any of this mean anything to him?

"Do you believe redemption is possible?" You ask out loud. The words just slip out before your brain could cut the connection down to your lips.

Alastor's relaxed smile widens into a toothy one.

Damn, he hasn't once looked your way. "Why do you ask?"

You shrug. "I think what Charlie is doing is pretty amazing. I mean, rehabbing sinners into winners? From what I can gather of her stories, Heaven sounds like paradise. And..." your focus shifts to someone passed out in the street, two imps sparring with knives, and a group of people openly feasting on something dead. "Cleaner."

You grimace.

"And are you set on crossing those heavenly gates, my dear?"

"I like to think about it. When I was alive, I didn't know where I would end up, but I didn't think that I'd come...here." You carefully switch your footing, avoiding a puddle of god knows what.

Alastor's lips curl, flashing his gums in a tight grin.

"So she’s honest. The hotel really isn't up to your standards, is it? Have we not provided everything to you?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that all my life I've tried to do good and this is how I get 'rewarded'. Spending my eternity here. Was I really that bad?" The last part you ask more to yourself than him. Alastor's pace slows.

"I'd say for a drugged up clutz you ended up in the right place." Alastor's curt voice strikes a nerve and you whirl in front of him.

"I wasn't a druggie, you ass!" Hands balled into fists by your sides, you size him up in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Oh, do please tell, dear." And keep looking at me with detest in your eyes. It's the only thing that will work.

Will it?

Alastor sneers, looking down at you over his nose with a sinister grin. And once again, for the second time, you want to smack that look right off his face. In one wave of pent up emotions, you don't know whether to laugh or cry or punch or scream. You've had enough of his snarky comments.

"My friend was dying. Those drugs were taking away her pain. Not like you'd know. I doubt you've ever cared for anything in your life! You're a selfish prick."

He hums. "Interesting. But there's more to the story, isn't there, sweetheart? No one suffers for eternal damnation because of petty theft." Letting his head fall to the side, his eyes narrow down at you.

Fuck him. "I killed one of the guys who sold me the drugs. Then the others held me down and beat me before they shoved a knife in my neck."

You seethe. “You happy now?”

"Ahh, and there it is.”

Your eyes sting from unsolicited tears. This isn’t fair.

“If you’re so perfect then why are you here?” A pointed finger lands upon his hard chest.

“Oh, my sweet dear, you don’t want to know the atrocities I’ve committed. I belong here.”

Alastor’s eyes darken. "I'm quite happy with the hand I was dealt."

“Then why do you treat me this way? Haven’t I treated you with respect? Why do you talk to me like I’m a nuisance then make me come at your beck and call?” You spread your arms wide, gesturing to the scene. “Why am I even here?”

He could ask that himself.

“It’s because you like to fuck with people.” It’s unfair how his talons sink deep under your flesh. How and why you care so much, you couldn’t say. “Am I a toy? It’s like you want me to hate you.”

How right you are.

"You never even said 'thank you' for helping you with your lists or patching up your wound."

"Oh darling, what is there to be thankful for?"

“You’re disgusting.” And you’re sure to pronounce every syllable clearly.

You hold his stare, hoping to god that you miraculously summon powers strong enough to set his smug-ass face up in flames. You do your best to hold it back, because why are you crying? Your body trembles as a string of salty liquid rolls down your cheek.

Alastor stares intensely, watching a tear glide over your cheekbone. Slowly, he bends at the waist to your level. His gloved hand gently swipes away your fallen tear, a gesture that appears loving but you can't see past your anger.

An emotion swirls within the shades of red in his eyes. His touch lingers over your jaw and you can barely catch your breath. The screams of chaos around you muffle like you’re suddenly

plunged underwater.

Before you can react, his face comes too close. His cheek skims over yours, breath fanning warmth on your ear.

“I must say darling, I’ve been called disgusting by many, but none of them have ever looked at me the way you do.” His voice a lowly whisper.

Your pulse thumps loudly within your skull. His body heat radiates off of him and clings to you, his scent dizzying and maddening. It stirs that conflicting feeling once again. He’s all you can smell. Your thighs threaten to rub together as your core begins to ache. You let out a shaky breath as his nose tickles the top of your earlobe, and it’s all too much. Your face grows hot and you inhale... him.

A familiar scent of soap, lemongrass and whiskey.

All too quickly he takes a step back and stands up tall, leaving your mind in a frenzy. All the warmth that fizzled your body was snatched away in an instant, leaving you to shiver from the feeling.

"Ah!” He exclaims sarcastically. “Looks like we've arrived at our destination." His hand gestures to the door next to you.

The door you’ve been standing in front of the whole time. The door you just lost your shit in front of.

Alastor casually opens it for you, a bell ringing as he does so. An arrogant grin spreads across his face as he waits patiently, and like a fucking gentleman, he gestures for you to go in first. In disbelief, you gawk at him. Disbelief and embarrassment. But you decide it’s not the time to dissect what the actual fuck just happened. Shaking it off, you enter the store.

"Do my eyes deceive me? My word! Is that you Alastor?"

A tall woman dressed to the nines in vintage clothing approaches Alastor and embraces him in a tight hug.

"Oh my stars, Alastor! You look good as new. I knew you’d be okay after the extermination, but you got some balls standin’ up to Adam like that.”

“Aw, Rosie, you’re delightful as ever.” He gives her a loving smile, and for a moment you ponder on how good of friends they are. He’s surely more welcoming to her than others - especially you.

Rosie’s black eyes shift to you. “And who is this beauty?” You take her extended hand. “Rosie, pleasure to meet’cya, darling.” Her hand taps at Alastor’s arm. “Alastor, where are your manners? Is she your little girlfriend? I didn’t take you for one to indulge in such things.”

Alastor’s eyes slightly widen in surprise, a look you’d miss if you blinked, before Rosie swats her hand at him. “Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m just messin with ya.”

Tilting his head to the side and kindly smiling at the woman, he begins to speak like he’s your best pal. Like he actually likes you.

“Actually, this little darling is our newest resident at the hotel. Rosie, I cannot express how great of an addition she is.” His hands slinking around your waist to pull you close to him catches you entirely off guard. You give Rosie your best smile, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as it feels. “My dear, this is Rosie, the most darling, delightful and dangerous overlord this side of the pentagram.”

She dips low in an elegant curtsey.

The fingers that wrap around your waist tighten, his thumb massages lightly into your side.

“I take it that you're not here to gossip with me, Al. Though I got some good tea on Mr. Thompson, the poor sucker got caught cheatin’ on his 4th wife!” She giggles then takes a breath, smiling kindly to the two of you. “What can I help you with?”

“We’ve actually come to ask a very important question.”

Alastor goes in depth about the soiree that Charlie is hosting this weekend. It seems that Rosie already knows the importance of the Hotel to the princess, so without much convincing she agreed to extend the invite to everyone at cannibal town. Alastor even mentioned that even if the residents here weren’t interested in redemption, they could come for the drinking, dancing and all the food they could want. The bigger, the better. Rosie had also insisted on providing special dishes for her people to snack on. “They’re not too fond of ‘normal’ meat.” She’d give a sharp smile, exposing her pearly dentures of death.

And with that success, the walk home was even more awkward than the first. But within the safety of the hotel walls, you felt like you could breathe freely again. Alastor took no time to run off to god knows where, abandoning you just beyond the entryway doors with a wave of his hand.

"Don't bother me with your list this week." Is all he had said to you, avoiding eye contact before storming off.

Your friends bustle around the lobby, and it's like a breath of fresh air. You watch them each carry some boxes with some type of decorations inside while Charlie frantically paces around with a clipboard in hand.

You finally undress into comfortable clothes within the confines of your room and sprawl over your comforter. Images of today spur in your mind unsolicitedly. The last thing you want to think about is how you absolutely lost your shit in the middle of town, in front of an overlord's emporium, to him - but it's inevitable.

You're too tired to rage, or cry, or laugh- or care. Like a veil being disintegrated, the mental exhaustion had hit you as soon as you walked through that threshold of your sanctuary. Your careless mind, however, wanders through the man who ignores and talks down to you.

How his gloved hands were careful wiping away your tears, or how he was so close that your skin ached for him. How hot your face felt with his skimming over yours. It took every ounce of restraint to not lean into his warmth and beg for him to just touch you.

Umbra manifests at the foot of your bed in a plume of smoke, shadows emitting from his body as he smiles.

"Ugh, what a day," you over-dramatize and roll yourself across your bed.

Umbra slithers over to you and takes a seat on your comforter, crossing one leg over the other so he can rest an elbow over his knee. You know he's ready to listen, he always is. After a long day, he just perches comfortably on a piece of furniture and lets you word-vomit every little thing that crosses your mind.

And he seems to like it, so you indulge him.

"Umbra?" You sigh, staring at the ceiling. "You know Alastor? He's a real prick. Took me to Cannibal town for satan-knows-what and all he did was insult me. I lost my shit in front of the whole town, though I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but still." You take a deep breath.

"The problem is, I have this... curiosity..." Umbra stays silent.

"He's the only person here I don't know much about. I try to connect," bad choice of words, because - is it a connection? What is this feeling that you have? "He just treats me like I'm below him. He makes me feel like shit. Avoids me all day and then when he does talk to me he-" degrades you. Makes your blood boil.

You groan in frustration. You won't cry again, you're too tired. So, you opt to mope and glaze over every embarrassing event that happened to you today on repeat.

Umbra's body emits the sound of tuning a radio, scratching to the chorus of a song.

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too if it happened to you..."

You cringe and lightly kick your foot at the mischievous shadow. "Now you're acting like a jerk too!"

Umbra tunes himself again, landing on a slow ballad.

"You don't remember me, but I remember you. T'was not so long ago, you broke my heart in two. Tears on my pillow, pain in my heart caused by youuuuu..."

You can't help the smile that creeps over your lips. Ass. You reach for a pillow and playfully toss it in his direction, to which (of course) he avoids by dissipating and manifesting on the other side of the bed.

Umbra's music quickly takes a dramatic shift, scratching to a new song.

"Why can't we be friends, why can't we be friends..."

Your mouth drops open in shock and you laugh,

"I didn't know you could play anything made after the stone age!"

The music fizzles out and the shadow laughs with you. Umbra slithers across your bed in a pool of mist and manifests closer to you. He nods his head towards the wall.

The wall that connects your room to Alastor's studio.

He tilts his head and you sense that he's asking you to continue about your little situation.

"There's not much I can do. It's not like I can get him to talk about anything." You huff. "If that's how he wants to be, then so be it. Why waste my time getting someone to like me anyways."

You give Umbra a soft smile. He sees it, what lies beyond your eyes. The tinge of sadness. It's not like you need Alastor to acknowledge you, is it? Disgust swells within your chest.

You're acting like a fool over approval from an overlord. Something tells you that there's more to it.

Umbra's hand comes up to meet your chin before warmth spreads to the back of your neck, like a hand sprawling open to caress your head.

The shadows face is close to yours as he sits there silently comforting you. His touch lingers as you flutter your eyes closed.

What are you thinking?

It's time for you to drop it.

Umbra lets you slip away, turning out of his caress. But his body remains close with eyes focused on you.

You roll over to reach for your phone, opting to mindlessly scroll through socials to numb your brain. But once you do, a slow melody begins to play faintly through the walls from next door. A muted trumpet begins to play over the slow beat of a drum.

You lay silently in bed, letting the rhythm lull you to sleep. Oddly, the thumping bass soothes your soul as gentle hands shift through your hair. You whisp away into a mindless slumber before you know.

The rest of the week leading up to the party was a blur, but a spectacular one. You and Charlie came up with lists for games, food, drinks, music and entertainment for the event. You'd be lying if you said you weren't giddy with excitement for this. It's fresh. New. Angel even took you out on the town to shop for a new dress. And the day before, you helped in the kitchen to bake desserts and triple checked the lists with Charlie to make sure everything was as perfect as she imagined.

All without a word from Alastor.

The entire week you've only caught glimpses of the radio demon. Standing tall, he'd briefly speak to Charlie before catching your eye. He'd give you a quick once over before turning tail to disappear. Not once did you ask for the list, like he asked, and not once did he approach you to give you one.

It's not like you care anyway.

"I think creepy face will go into cardiac arrest the millisecond he sees your tits. It'd kinda like to see that..." You sit at your vanity, watching Angel lounge over your comforter through the mirror as he scrolls his phone.

The dress Angel picked for you was a black satin number. The scoop neckline and bunched up fabric around the breasts flatter your chest beautifully. The length of the dress hugged every curve of your body, and the opening of the slit over your right leg was the icing on the cake.

"And why are we talking about him?"

"Because everyone can see how bad you two wanna fuck each other. Seriously, it's ridiculous. You guys just need ta pound it out, and with that dress he'd have easy access." Angel looks up to wink at you. You shoot daggers at him and ignore his comment.

"Well I heard there will be a special guest tonight." You reach for your makeup and begin.

"Who? Fuckin' Satan? Been there, done that - not worth it."

"Lucifer will be here, I never met him."

You’ve heard of him plenty. He’s the sin of pride. The fallen angel.

Most of what you’ve heard comes from your friends here at the hotel. Stories of when he came to help fight during the extermination and how he was a huge part of the rebuilding of the hotel after it was destroyed. Charlie mentioned that she built a room for him across Alastor’s studio once, but you never bothered to ask where he had been since then.

But again, you’ve only been here a few weeks. The King of Hell must be a busy man.

Angel perks up, "That short king?" He looks you over and grins, "Oh yeah, you definitely have a chance. Hot as fuck and rich too."

"I'm hoping to just have fun tonight. First party in hell and all.” You pause, excitement bubbling. “I want to meet new people, since I’ve been so cooped up here with planning the party and being Alastor’s chore bitch.” You pop your lips after applying some gloss and examine your face in the mirror.

"You won't miss freakazoid?"

"What's there to miss?"

—

You swear you weren’t trying to make a grand entrance with Angel by your side. But it just happened that way.

Angel settled for a more feminine look tonight. Jewelry cascading down his arms and rings litter his slender fingers. The dangling earrings that he paired with a crushed red velvet dress make him look tantalizing.

By your side, your arm looped within his, you walk down the grand entrance steps to the bustling lobby. Music booms throughout the walls, jaunty Jazz from the 50s play lively.

Overlooking the crowd, you must see a hundred people.

This is what this hotel is for.

Sinners also dressed to the nines today. Every single one of them in cocktail attire, happily picking at snacks or nursing a glass in their hand. Come to think of it, this seems a lot more classy than you had imagined it would be, with this being hell and everything.

Charlie and Vaggie invited everyone in Pride, so everyone could come for a night of fun - all while advertising the hotel. Looking around, you see all sorts of sinners and hell born. It’s actually a refreshing sight to see how diverse the crowd is. You almost thought it would just be cannibal town.

You scan the crowd as you descend the stairs for the one demon you wish to forget. Angel laps up the attention beside you, sinners gasping and heads turning your way to gawk in your duo beauty. You give a shy smile, both loving and hating the spotlight.

As you step down the last stair, your eyes fall over vermillion ones by the bar.

Alastor is clad with a different attire tonight as well. A night black suit with satin wingtip collars, a crisp white undershirt paired with a black satin bow tie, all adorned with a crimson red handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket. The same shade of red that matches his sclera.

He’s nursing a whiskey on the rocks at the end of the crowded bar. And if eyes could set you into flames... His heavy stare and expressionless face do not leave yours. You almost feel sick from the butterflies that flutter within your belly. It’s the first time all week you’ve gotten a good look at him.

“Great turnout tonight, yeah?” Angel nudges you and you nod to agree.

“I didn’t expect so many people to come!” You almost had to yell over the music.

“I’m going to make some rounds,” Angel plucks a martini from a waiter carrying a tray, “I’ll see you in a bit. Good luck with Lucifer if you see’m.” Angel kisses your cheek and disappears into the crowd.

You stand there for a moment to gawk at how big this turnout was. It’s still early in the night as no one is dancing just yet. Everyone’s just sipping their drinks, laughing, and indulging in the food spread. Music and the roar of people is almost too much, but for tonight- it feel good. You’re not sure where to start, but you want to mingle and meet new people.

Maybe you could even recruit some sinners for Charlie.

Your head turns in the direction of the bar. You guess you could start with a drink first.

“A cosmo, please, Husk.” You smile at the grumpy cat who’s behind the bar making a drink for someone else.

When he turns to you, to your surprise, he gives you just a lick of a smile. “You look nice, tonight.” Was all he said before making and handing you your drink in record time.

You feel heavy eyes from down the bar, and you do your best to avoid looking in the direction of… him. You see Husk slide Alastor another glass of whiskey from your peripherals.

Avoid.

Don’t even look down that way. The front of the bar is long, big enough for crowds like this. At the ends on each side, the bar extends for more seating. And of course, Alastor sits just to the left of your line of sight at the corner. You nurse your drink right where you are, because fuck, Husk made this strong, and find real estate on a barstool to people-watch.

You feel the presence of a man lean against the bar beside you.

“Not one for parties?” A gentle voice, smooth and sultry, comes close to your ear.

You smile and shake your head, eyes still scanning the crowd of mingling strangers. “No, this is actually my first one in hell. I’m… new. I feel a little out of place.”

“First one? You picked a good place for that. Hell isn’t the place to throw… classier parties like this.” You guess you’re lucky then.

“You go to parties often?”

“Oh, god, no.” The man’s laugh is smooth and low. “I’m only here for Charlie.”

You furrow your brows and turn to face a man in a white suit. His golden hair is perfectly slicked back underneath a top hat, one hand resting over his cane, the other holding a drink. His face paints a lax smile, a smile that would make any woman swoon.

“Lucifer Morningstar, charmed to meet you.” Setting his drink on the bar he extends his hand and you take it. His slender fingers curl in your palm, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” You introduce yourself by name and give a soft smile, completely in awe of the King of Hell standing before you.

“Ah, the newest guest. Charlie has mentioned you quite a bit. How are you liking it?"

Taking a sip from your drink, the alcohol melts warmly over your tongue, sliding down your throat with delicious heat.

"I love it here, it almost makes someone not want to leave."

"It is a slice of heaven compared to the rest of this place. You're looking for redemption?"

You think it over, a finger gently rimming your glass. You don't want to indulge too much in Lucifer, you barely know the man. But then again, maybe speaking to him might help you get a better chance in getting redemption. You look up to the King through thick lashes, ignoring Husk who pours Alastor another refill.

"I am. I didn't think I'd end up in Hell."

Lucifer clears his throat and swigs his drink empty. "It is strange seeing a pretty lady like you down here. May I ask what you did?" He props his elbow up on the bar, casually leaning into it as he awaits our answer.

You shouldn't be shocked by the question, but it does come to you as a surprise. You should keep it vague, you are speaking to a hierarchy here...

"I..." you pick your words carefully as you scan his face for malice, but you find none. "I was trying to help a friend and... killed someone in self defense." That's the best you could do.

Lucifer shrugs and throws you a slack smile, "I don't make the rules, but if I did, you wouldn't be here. I would put faith in Charlie, she'll direct you where you need to go."

You try to smile at his words, but the memories of your sick friend flash into your head. Memories of her coughing up blood when she spoke too fast, her frail body that deteriorated more and more each week, the way her hair would fall out in clumps when you tried to brush it for her. She was poor, and so her family - as were you. You both had to lean on each other for support, her more so to you. She couldn't afford the treatments or the medications and you had to do something. The dealers got greedy. They started out giving you the pills for free, since they knew you both in school. Then, after a while, they would ask more and more from you. Working multiple jobs at once wasn't going to cover the rent, the food, the necessities and her pills. So, you gave up what you could until you had to... do what you had to do.

"Why the long face, princess?" Lucifer coos softly in a way that's undeniably comforting. He leans into your space, concern paints his face as his golden eyes scans your face. You were never good at hiding your emotions... well, not in these types of situations. The soft spot you have for good people made you too trusting. Lucifer was once in Heaven. He was the fallen angel... maybe he would know if God could help your friend on earth. Pain strikes your face and you grimace. You can't fathom the thought of what state she's in right now.

"My friend, she still needs help. And I left-"

"You can't control the wheels of life...or the afterlife." He says simply. "It's a fickle thing, funny how it plays out." His eyes briefly flashed with a sadness you cannot figure out.

You blink. "Thanks, sir-" Maybe he's right. You really can't control the past or what happened to you. You know her family will figure something out...

"Lucifer, please." He insisted. "You'll end up where you need to be." His gloved finger swipes under your chin as the music in the back changes to a classical symphony sung by strings. His face lights up as he snaps his fingers, golden little fireworks pop around his cane before it disappears before your eyes. Lucifer extends a hand to you.

"May I have this dance?"

Downing the last of your drink, you accept.

Taking your hand into his, he gently drags you away from the bar through the sea of sinners. Lucifer fixes his suit before flashing you a toothy grin, fixing his hand into one of yours and his other around your waist.

And in this exact moment, you swear that you feel the temperature from the corner of the bar plummet.

Alastor's body radiates with maddening electricity, his brain going haywire within an instant. The empty whiskey glass cracks under the pressure of his grip as he tries to maintain his composure. His vermillion eyes narrow, never leaving Lucifer's hand against your waist from across the floor for a second. The smile on his face becomes strained, painful almost.

"Another, Husker." Alastor's gravel voice is low.

Lucifer guides you to the beat, swaying you gently within the small space you two have. You follow his lead, almost embarrassed at how close you were to him. He smells of smoked apple and a warm musk, a fond reminder of the holidays when you were alive.

His movements were swift and smooth, both of your hips swaying to the rhythm created by the orchestra that surrounds you. His body feels hard against yours, and your hips tease the feeling of touching, but he stays respectful. Lucifer's golden eyes soften before his face comes close to yours, his lips coming close to speak in your ear.

"I have to apologize, I haven't danced with someone in a while." You didn't even notice, this seems so easy for him. The clean scent of his hair balm wafts through your nose.

You move in closer, swaying your hips slow and smooth to the strings. You relish in the feeling, the music flowing through your veins. The way he had easily allowed you to lead now makes you feel free. You slither over the balls of your feet, making your hips shimmy with ease as he effortlessly spins you in slow circles.

"I think you're a wonderful dancer, Lucifer. It's been a while for me too." You smile into the space between his neck, so close to touching your skin to his. You feel weightless losing yourself within his embrace. You feel like you could-

"Pardon the interruption, but I think you had enough time with the lady."

Alastor's staticy voice pierces through the music, taking you out of this moment. You draw back from Lucifer to see Alastor's hand over the king's shoulder. From what you could guess, it's a dangerous move.

Lucifer clears his throat, annoyance paints his face. "Alastor, can't you see we're..." the king's golden eyes dart to you then back to the demon, "in the middle of something."

"Oh, I see that clearly." Alastor keeps his stare firm over his nose at Lucifer. Weird... you never noticed the indent between his brows before.

"Then mind your manners and wait your turn, we barely made it to the floor." Lucifer laughs lightheartedly, his hand hovers over the small of your back before gently pulling you back into his arms to continue dancing in an attempt to ignore the nuisance.

"I said," Alastor steps forward, a hand now hands roughly over Lucifer's chest with a thump, "I think you've had enough time."

Lucifer mumbles something you can't understand when he looks down to Alastors fist over his chest. Oh fuck, do you intervene? Golden eyes glow with hatred, but the king keeps himself composed.

You guess the two have had many run-ins before, and this was just another day because Lucifer didn't seem too bothered to continue this. You don't even notice the music ending when Lucifer comes close to your ear.

"Find me later, I'm staying at the Hotel this week." And with a whiff of warm apple and mint toothpaste, Lucifer disappears quickly into the crowd. Alastor doesn't give you the time to see where he went. Strong hands pick yours up and position your body the way he wants. Fingertips press into the small of your back as the radio demon murmurs, "posture."

You don't have time to think as Alastor begins to move as the next song begins. His scent muffles every ounce of your comprehension. But what you do take notice, is that his usual scent of whiskey overpowers everything else.

Now what the fuck?

You blink, taking a second to come back to reality. "What the hell was that?"

He doesn't respond, just looking over you mindlessly looking over the crowd. Of course he doesn't. Pompous ass.

Instead, he sways you effortlessly across the dance floor, the crowd making way for him as he does. Your face curls in disgust, but you figure this is the best time to get to him. He's willing to interrupt a moment you had to dance with you, might as well take it, right? It's almost sickening, how twisted your feelings are. But it's even more sickening how he acts as if you're his toy; waltzing around and picking you up when you least expect it. Fair enough for a demon who snatches souls for his own gain. But why, in the ever living fuck, is it you?

Your eyes lift to him, but his gaze is carelessly over your shoulder. You burn with anger.

"I'm talking to you," you say through gritted teeth.

He loathes the choice he'd made. Maybe he's had one too many. He's gone too far.

You had walked in, your dress hugging at every curve of your body and your perfume a promise of broken faith, of untold secrets. It wasn't the first moment he knew his heart would lead to damnation, no, that was the second his eyes landed on you. But tonight, your radiance thunders through him in a way he cannot ignore.

He knew you avoided him. He knows you fight to look his way. What lies beyond your tough exterior? Does he want to know? Have you already showed him? He has a feeling, but is he right?

This invisible string. A moth to a flame. You were the true version of hell, not the physical one he had earned.

Alastor braces himself as he slowly turns his face down to you.

Oh, your eyes.

The sheer look of disdain oozes and pierces down to the core of his soul. If he still had one.

And he loves it.

He tilts his head softly to the side, letting his ears gently fall.

His eyes are glazed over and he carries a strained smile you've come to know all too well.

"So you're not just a dick to me, you're insufferable to everyone around you." You ignore the heat that trickles up your neck and spreads over your cheeks. His gaze doesn't waver as he once again makes you feel small. Like he assesses your every move as a predator. Every blink, every uncomfortable twitch or flash of feeling is under surveillance. It's like a violation of privacy... yet, you let him near still.

Alastor guides you to the left, still carrying a lighthearted dance across the floor.

"My dear, why are you so cruel?" His eyelids droop as he playfully mocks you. You look down to where your eyes meet his chest.

"I was enjoying a dance and you ruined it, do you hate when others have fun?" Alastor cringes like he was shot in the leg, his nose crinkling as he does, but he recovers before you notice.

"I simply wanted to ask you for a dance. I see no harm in that?"

"And what about what I wanted? This is my night to have fun and make friends. You have no control over that."

Alastors face closes into the open space between your neck and shoulder. The hand that laid perfectly over the small of your back twitches.

"You know what you want, you just can't admit it." Fuck. That came out before he could stop it.

"You have no idea what I want, what I like, what I need. But I'll tell you, since you feel the need to be involved in every aspect of my life whenever you want. I want to meet new people. I want to enjoy what time I have here. And for some reason, I can't have a moment's peace when you're at every corner figuring out new ways to get under my skin."

"I don't think you actually know what's best for you, sweetheart." Alastor can't help sliding his hand up the crevice of your spine, pressing his hand firmly to draw you closer. The breath of his nose fans your exposed neck. "You're a funny little thing. All big and tough once riled. I bet you'd give anything to sink your claws deep in my flesh and rip me to pieces right now. Hatred and desire cross a very fine line, my dear." You shudder, goosebumps litter your skin as his smooth voice mumbles in your ear. Your breath quickens.

"But you're just a little doe. A scared, little fawn who acts on pure instinct. Your mind is a frenzy, isn't it? A strange new place. Guilt of what you left behind. Fear of the unknown. You just want to trust, to hold your values true in a world of ruin. It's okay, it's nature. Even the weakest creatures react with veracity when agitated. But you don't mean it, don't you, you sweet little thing?"

Your eyes light with fire and you pull out of his tight embrace.

"I'm not weak. Since you want to pick me apart so badly, let's dissect the great Radio Demon, yeah?"

From far away, tucked in a dark corner, Umbra observes in excitement.

Alastors grin finally turns sinister. His eyes slide to yours and reveal a sadistic ecstasy as you follow his lead across the floor.

"A rampant, vile demon who everyone is afraid of, finds me, a 'little doe so confused and lost' and yet, you cannot go a day without finding ways to be near me. The demon who slaughters innocent people for his entertainment wishes to take me on a stroll for errands, just because. An immoral, sadistic asshole who enjoys others' pain wishes to take my hand in a dance, simply because I was enjoying myself without him around."

Umbra vibrates and slithers up the wall, talons ripping at the wallpaper easily. He can barely control his fever. With a tilt of his head, static grows over the speakers as he changes the song.

"Wouldn't you think someone as horrible as me finds emotionally torturing you entertainment?" He questions.

"Is that truly all this is, Alastor?" It's a little pathetic, right? Doing something without any gain?

He blinks.

"You don't control me. You can't walk all over me and expect me to be okay with it forever. Isn't this exhausting? Don't you grow tired of it?" You decide to play his game. Choke on your own fucking medicine.

You've seen the stares, the anger. Maybe it does mean something.

A new song plays over the speakers, sultry and slow.

"You don't own me... I'm not just one of your many toys..."

"We've never even had a real conversation, isn't that sad?" You tilt your head up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You expose your neck as you arch your back, leaning backwards over his strong hold. Lifting yourself back up, your nose skims the softness of his neck for a brief moment.

"And what makes you think I'd want to have that with you?" Alastor's tongue swipes hungrily over his lips, his eyes scan your body with haste before sliding his arm over yours and taking a hand into his to position you both in a dangerous tango.

You look up through your lashes, and whip your head to the right, extending your arms to guide you in that direction. Alastor follows your lead.

"I think there's more to what you give."

You both step slowly across the floor in a tense tango. Alastor can't help himself by looking down at you from the corner of his eye.

"Don't tell me what to do, don't tell me what to say..."

In a flash with the crescendo of the song, Alastor takes the lead and twirls you two, three times before catching you by your hips. Rough hands dig into your flesh as you take this moment to dip your body, every movement slow, just so he can watch. You expose your neck and press against Alastors groin, heat rising between your legs as you do.

Almost with care, Alastor's hand sprawls over your back to help you lift up to his face. With a rough hand, he slides it all the way to the base of your neck and curls his fingers around you, holding you close to his face without room to budge.

You have to admit, he's one hell of a dancer.

Your body speaks to him, reacting in a way it never has. You both are in sync, always subconsciously knowing what the other will do next.

You've never felt so... free. Just the two of you, alone, speaking with dance like no one is watching... yet, hundreds of eyes are actually watching the great display happening on the floor.

Fiery eyes are stilled to yours, like he's speaking a million things at once to you without words, before letting you lean back again to circle your head to the beat of the song.

"You don't own me, don't try to change me in any way..."

Pushing back up, you curl your leg around his, and his hand scans over your thigh with fever. You swallow, unable to fathom any thought through your brain as your heart tries to keep up, thundering loudly through your head.

Alastor leans backwards so you can fall forward over him and he drags you across the floor.

Your arms drape over his shoulders, one leg clinging to him and the other that stabilizes you, stays taught. So close. Whiskey and bad decisions haze your vision. All you can see are those vermillion eyes pouring into your soul. The soft bump of his nose touching yours, his chest that presses firmly against you, his arms exploring without thought...

Breaking away, Alastor twirls you hand over head as you stay on the balls of your feet. With each spin, he guides you, his face is a blur, until he stops you.

"I don't tell you what to say, I don't tell you what to do..."

"My turn to take the lead." He mumbles before positioning you back to form. Step by step,

Alastor guides you backwards, but you're quick to follow. Seductively, you sway your hips, pressing your lower belly over his, you earn a lowly growl from him.

"Behave."

"I'm not doing anything, simply dancing with you." You say, eyebrows raised.

He steps to the side with his hand extended to you, taking it, he spins you into him. Your back now pressed against him, feeling every muscle move beneath you. You let your head loll to the side, and he takes up the missing real estate. His breath fans into the crevasse of your neck, tickling and awakening every part of your body as you grind your hips into him to the beat.

Alastor grows hard with every movement you make. His body aches with need.

"You know what you're doing..."

"Do you want this?" You whisper, not knowing what path you're going down.

You break away and step by step, seductively walking around him until you're facing him once again.

Alastor swallows. It's probably the most 'human' you've ever seen him.

He lifts a hand to caress your cheek and opens his mouth to say something-

Before you say something first.

"Is this... pathetic little sinner causing so much distress, Al?" You’ve never used his nickname before, and this shocks him as well. Glowing red eyes widen for just a moment before you take him into the waltz once more and he does so without question. This time, he leaves zero space between the two of you.

Every movement you give that requires an ounce of space, he's right there pressing into you like his life depends on it.

Your scent, the fire in your eyes. He needs you day and night. How fucked is this? He wants to breathe you in, fill you to the brim and never let you leave his sight. It's feral. It's a primal urge that he has only felt for carnage.

"I think," you look up at him, puffing out your lips. "That you hate that you can't have me all to yourself." You bring your face close to his.

You have the control now.

"You know nothing."

"Right, because, what did you call me that one time? Forgettable?" Alastor's grip on your hands tighten. You make a move to grind up against his cock once again.

“Insolent girl.” He growls.

"If that's what I am to you, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind me dancing with someone else. Maybe going out to lunch with someone else on my break? I'm sure you wouldn't care if I fuc-"

"Enough." He barks. You grin. His eyes grow dark and static pricks against your skin. Maybe these drinks in hell are a lot stronger than those on earth, because you're feeling like you can say and do whatever the fuck you please without reason. It's so nice to mess with him without fear. You break the dance and look up at him sweetly.

"Thank you for the dance, Al. It was a pleasure." Turning on your heels, you leave him on the dance floor.

Once out of sight from the hundreds of eyes, you dart to the bathroom to catch your breath. What a thrill. Gripping the marble of the sink you hunch over and laugh nervously.

Holy shit. Ha ha!

Oh the look on his face.

You've never seen him that drunk, let alone that riled up. What the fuck even was that? Never in a million years you'd think someone who loathes you so much would be in the right mind to ask someone to dance with them, then gets mad when you bring up shit they've done.

Hypocrite.

It's hilarious.

Manifesting through the marble tile, Umbra appears behind you. Your eyes meet his wispy figure through the mirror before turning around to face him.

"You should've seen it! I really fucking got him. All that messing around he does with me, I gave him a taste of his own medicine and he tweaked!" Umbra pounces and swirls around your body with excitement. The shadow embraces you in a warm hug, most likely congratulating on finding the balls to stick up for yourself.

The happy moment doesn’t last long, no, you can't even bask in it, because just after Umbra twirls your hair in silent glee, his body fizzes up and fills the room with static. You blink and he’s gone.

The door to the bathroom bursts open with a slam and Alastor’s tall form strides in, stalking aggressively up to where you stand.

“Do you think this is a game?” He snarls, lips curled in anger, showing his sharp teeth.

You’d be shocked, more at the unsuspected intrusion, but you’re not much so at the situation. He always had found a way to you. Always. And with you abandoning him on the dance floor in front of hundreds of people, it was only a matter of time that you’d pay for it with his words.

“Whatever do you mean?” You coo, batting your lashes at him, lifting your chin to his down casted grimace. Taunting him, giving him what he deserves.

Whiskey finds its way into your nostrils.

“Insulting me, teasing me… Leaving me on the dance floor is poor taste, you know.”

”Are you upset, Mr. Radio Demon?” You tilt your head and his eyes flare.

“You disrespectful little-“

”And what are you going to do about it?”

Within a second Alastor curls his large fingers around the nape of your neck and pushes you against the bathroom sink. The cool marble filters through your dress and you shiver at the feeling. Alastor presses you against the counter with his body, your hips ache at the hardness against your waist. Unable to move your head, you cast your eyes downward over the beautiful swirls of the marble.

Alastor takes his other hand to slide up your thigh and curl his fingers around your hip, the sharpness of his claws pinches your flesh under his gloves. He applies pressure to your waist, tilting your ass out so you’re pressed firmly against him, with nowhere to go.

“Ala-“

”You want to play games? You’re insufferable. I’ll play your game, but I’m in control, you understand that?”

You whimper.

“Do you understand that?” He asks again, and you nod. Heat flares deep within your core and you find it hard to rid the feeling. Rubbing your thighs together to ease the fire, he growls in your ear. The warmth of the alcohol on his breath sends you into a dizzying hypnosis. Whisps of his hair tickle your cheek, and you moan.

Easing up on the pressure, Alastor moves, bringing the hand that gripped your wait down between your legs.

“Yes-“ you whisper, unable to control yourself from saying it. You knew it. You knew there was something more. You knew there was a reason why he despised your existence.

It was because he felt something for you.

Fingers trail down and down, close are closer to your core, but he misses it completely. You sigh, disappointed, or maybe embarrassed that you thought he would-

Gripping your silk dress roughly, he rips it up and over your hips, bunching the fabric over your torso. The cool air of the bathroom pricks your skin and your now exposed ass feels the fabric of his suit fully.

“Look at me.” He commands, growling feverishly in your right ear.

You’re so lost in the moment that you’ve barely heard him. The hand that clung to the nape of your neck now slithers over your throat, softly but firmly squeezing to get you to react how he wants. You gasp and your head falls backwards into him, his hand is reluctant to follow, keeping the pressure over your windpipe.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flutter up to the mirror. You were a mess. You hair disheveled and he’s barely touched you. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, there is no going back now. Your eyes were the gateway to what your soul wanted, what your soul needed. And sliding your eyes over to him, you could see the same in his look.

Pressed tightly against your body, Alastor looks like a predator who can’t hold back. The claws were already in the prey, and he’s ready to snap its neck for the kill.

His hair is disheveled as well, eyes glowering and piercing right through yours through the mirror. With a look like that, you swear he could shatter it.

With half of your body now exposed for him, he slides his fingers down to your core and presses.

“Oh-“ You groan, rolling your eyes in ecstasy.

Alastor lets out a breath he’d been holding and begins to draw tight little circles over your clit. The feeling is euphoric, and you can’t help grinding your hips back into him. Your body uncontrolled, a mess, a pure state of lust.

Grinding yourself over him, the hardness on your back is apparent. From what you can feel, he’s thick and long. You moan at the thought.

“You think it’s so funny to fuck around with me. You think you have so much control over me.” He tightens the grip over your neck and you mew. It’s getting more and more difficult to stand…

”But, my dear, you don’t realize that you were never in control.” He pauses, “such a funny little thing.”

Keeping eye contact through the mirror, you swear his eyes soften at you for a split second. Something glistens behind those angry eyes.

His finger dips under your panties to feel your wetness and you shiver in response. He slides your slick up back to your clit, wetting it nicely for him. You couldn’t help but buck in his hold, which he allows you to do. Everywhere else of your body is cemented solid to him.

”I can’t-“ You murmur, feeling the tightness in your core about pop. You’re on fire, every fiber of your being is buzzing with need. Your eyebrows furrow and you open your mouth to pant, feeling every ministration of his fingers. With every circle, he hits every point of your bud and you can’t think straight. You can’t think of anything else but his touch, his warmth and his eyes pouring every emotion through yours under the dimly lit bathroom.

Alastor pulls away.

You attempt to lunge forward in disappointment. No, you were so close. Tears well up in your eyes, “please,”

But Alastor ignores you as he brings his hand up to suck your juices off his fingers.

“You taste so sweet, like I thought you would.”

Keeping the hand over your neck, Alastor then uses his free hand to unzip himself from his pants, all while maintaining his eyes right on you.

“I wanted to-“ He begins but quickly stops himself.

He’s panting too. His breathing is so rapid and deep that you feel every movement of his chest against your back. He’s losing his control, and you’re seeing this in real time.

Alastor swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs when he does and you feel his cock slide between your thighs. Gasping at the feeling over your underwear, you still.

“Please,” you beg.

”Please what? I want to hear you say it.” He grinds himself between your legs and the slick inside your panties make the fabric slick with ease. His cock caresses every inch of you, right to the clit. His cock head peaks out from between you when he thrusts all the way forward, gloriously bumping into your clit with every move. He’s red and leaking with precum. All with desire.

You lick your lips. His gaze is heavy on you now. You want him. You didn’t even realize that you have until now, but now it’s all you want. You want to feel him deep inside you, no, you need him deep inside you. Emotions come over you in waves like the sea. You clinch yourself over nothing, thinking of how he can fill you up, touch you and kiss you until you can’t think of anyone or anything else. For the first time in Hell, you feel seen. Not just seen by anyone, but seen by him.

Like you’re the only thing that matters in this shitty place. Like he wants this as much as you want this.

“What do you want.” He says lowly in your ear, a little gentler this time, breaking away the pressure over your neck. Soft lips find your cheek and his breath fans over your skin with a tenderness you can’t pinpoint.

“I want you, Alastor. Please.”

”Such a good girl,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue over your jaw to taste your flesh as he side eyes you through the mirror. Nothing or anyone will take his gaze from you.

Brushing your panties aside, Alastor’s head presses against your opening. You wait with baited breath, excited to feel him and you shiver.

”Keep your eyes on me when I enter you.”

And you do. Alastor doesn’t look down, doesn’t readjust himself, his eyes remain fixated on your disheveled state when he pops the head of his cock inside. You arch at the intrusion and it feels like all the air in your body is being sucked out from the depths of your soul. He doesn’t stop pushing, pushing, pushing. His length sends your mind haywire. Your brain short circuiting at the length of him, at the thickness of him.

Bottoming out, Alastor sighs with a hungry groan.

“I don’t know if I can control myself…” His voice barely a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper back and grind your hips back onto him. This earns a growl from him and an arm wrapping around your torso. Without any warning, Alastor pulls out, dragging his cock slowly along your walls, bringing the head of his cock to the tilt and roughly thrusting back inside you.

“Alastor, oh fuck.”

The demon pumps himself roughly into you, bruising your hips against the counter with his force. Quickly the bathroom is filled with sounds of your slick clicking in the echos of his skin slapping against yours.

“Amazing, you feel amazing.” Alastor brings his head down to bite at your neck, lapping up the pain with his tongue to soothe.

“So- good,” you manage to say in between his brutal thrusts.

The vice you had on his cock sends him in another dimension. Your walls gummy, soft and slick. You are so wet for him. The smells of your pharemores drive him deeper and deeper into a psychotic madness he didn’t think he could feel other than the thrill of killing.

Strong thighs slap against your ass and your body begins to feel weightless as Alastor’s grip on your body is strong enough to keep you lifted after every hump he gives you. Glowing vermillion eyes find your eyes once again in the mirror, his facade fading with every movement.

He’s slipping into the euphoric feeling of your body, no, the feeling of everything that you are. He won’t last long. His cock twitches deep inside you and his brows furrow in a beautiful pain.

He wants to breed you, fill you deep with his cum until you can’t feel anything anymore. Your pussy will become the shape of his cock and he will ruin you for anyone else… but for now, he’s lost in the moment with you. Lost in the warmth of you that he loathes. That he can’t bring himself to admit just yet.

Maybe it could be just this once. He could get lost in this feeling for this this one time and it will be it. He will have his fix for now, and remember it forevermore.

That will do.

The look on your face, the heat of your skin sends him to a tipping point. The ledge keeps getting close and closer for him to jump off. Your pussy twitches and he can see it in your eyes that you want to release, but not want this to end. Was this something you wanted too?

Can’t be.

But he will give you what you want.

So with that, Alastor removes his arm from around your waist and carefully brings you down to the floor, your heels landing with a click. Fingers find your bud once again to give a rough, but calculated, pace to set you over that edge.

Murmuring words that you don’t understand, his touches feed into your need. His rough thrusting and fingers fill you with this reassurance of loving desire and wantedness that drives you mad. Lurching forward over the counter, you can’t take it. Your knees buckle and this counter is your saving grace. Holding all your weight over the marble you push your ass back into him with his rhythm.

Alastor’s hands grip your waist and hump into you like a wild animal, like his life depends on it. Feeling your ass bounce back into him drives him to insanity, but all he wants to look at is your tear filled eyes, right as you’re about to cum.

Your vision blurs without warning and you come undone over his cock. Shaking and grinding over him as you ride out your high, your eyes roll to the back of your head. Waves of fire flutter under your skin as you become inhuman from your orgasm. You feel like you’re not even here, but riding high over a cloud.

“Fuck,” Alastor breathes, mesermized at the sight and picks up his pace. “I’m going to breed you.”

One, two, three thrusts into your wet heat send him over that edge. Hot cum spurts deep within your walls with a snarl and you groan at the feeling. Twitching his fingers over your skin and panting, Alastor humps you deep, folding over your body to get his cum deeper inside you. Like an unhinged animal, Alastor growls and roughly sinks his teeth into the nape of your neck.

You, yourself, find yourself panting as you come down from your high. You feel so full of him, so hot and full. Giving yourselves a moment to catch your breath, Alastor slows his thrusts, gradually coming to a stop.

He doesn’t want to leave. He can’t find himself to do it, but he must.

Licking the now wound that lay upon your neck, Alastor sucks up the blood as a last homage, a last taste of your skin before gently helping you stand.

You both face the mirror for a moment. Alastor quickly fixing himself back into his suit, picking off a piece of lint before stilling.

Fixing your dress, you find it uncomfortable to turn around to face him. After all the things you could have done together, this was the most awkward. You want to turn around to face him, hug him, maybe even plant a kiss over his soft lips.

But before you could even finish the thought, Alastor’s eyes look somber as he fixes your hair.

“Alastor,” you begin.

Alastor’s lifts his gloved hand to gingerly caress your face before looking down at the floor and walking out of the bathroom.

#alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #Alastor #hazbin hotel smut #Hazbin hotel x reader

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kaylopolis · 1 month ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Afterword

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

Spoiler Warning: Please read this after the Epilogue

Dear Hoteliers,

Before we begin, there is one thing I’d like to address: why did I kill Alastor?

Alastor’s death, believe it or not, was not about Alastor.

While you were dying, your thoughts were not fixated on him, nor were they fixated on Mary Marie if you read that alternate ending. They were about the abuse you experienced as an Angel of God. After all, this story, the very first thing that brought you to the Hotel was revenge.

But this was not a story about revenge. That all changed in Chapter 14 “Picking a Fight,” when you and Alastor finally caved and gave in to your feelings for each other.

No longer was your Endgame plan clear cut. Things got complicated. Alastor had to accept you and the plan or it didn’t work. Why? Because, again, you thought your story was one of revenge.

Alastor’s death - the demon saving you, looking after you over the years he was “dead,” and the lengths you went to revive him - changed that narrative. Because now it was not about Alastor accepting you and the Endgame plan, but you realizing that your story could not go on without him.

Literally, hence the time jump.

I did this for your character development, closure of your character’s arc, and because it has been the theme from the beginning of this work: power born from love is a thousand times more powerful than that born from fear.

Hence, the power, chaos, and love modified mantra I ended with.

So, if love was the solution/closure you needed why were you so fixated on the abuse as you died? Why did you not find resolution in those final moments (hence the “your fault” present during this scene)? Why was there no healing from your triggering past during this fic?

I intentionally did not want that sub-plot to find an ending because that’s not how trauma works. It’s an ongoing process - a battle to fight everyday. We have our good days and our bad, and we do not let it dictate our lives, but it’s a battle nonetheless.

I’ve always taken issue with movies and books romanticizing trauma and a character becoming empowered from it, using it as willpower to take down kingdoms literally and metaphorically. Culture wraps up trauma in a nice pretty bow and sticks it on a shelf and calls it a day when, in reality, that’s not how healing works.

It is a battle. An ongoing battle many of us spend our entire lives fighting.

How fitting that Mikaela’s a soldier…

But I’m not here to rehash this subplot. I’ve said my peace for you all to synthesize on your own because I find writers have many hidden motives we don’t catch while reading, and, as a writer myself, it makes me incredibly sad when a reader misses it because the story is SO much better if you understand them.

That being said, I’m here to reflect. After all, it’s what an “Afterword” is for.

I’ve never written a fanfic before but I am a fantasy writer. I decided to use this piece to explore romance, smut, and to fantasize about Alastor because how can you not? Vivienne inadvertently dropped us a hottie who has taken the fandom by storm!

I started this piece off as an “eventual smut” piece. Trying to practice my writing in a way the great Alastor Fictive writers on here would be proud to read: @minkdelovely , @hazelfoureyes , @hurthermore , @krahk , @fraugwinska , @macabr3-barbi3 (seriously go read their stuff, it’s AMAZING). Yet, around Chapter 14 (I call it the “Golden Chapter” in my head because I consider it to be the climax of not only the fanfic but of my writing as a whole. I’m quite proud of that chapter and honestly spent a long time debating ending the story there, but so many things were still unfinished) I found that I didn’t particularly have a talent for writing smut, nor did I enjoy it in the same way I enjoy writing fantasy.

This entire project was a discovery and a challenge for myself, and I grew A LOT as a writer.

Looking back, if I had to do this again, I would change quite a bit after Chapter 14. Maybe I will in the future, but as of right now, I have school and another manuscript to complete.

That being said, I have fallen in love with Mikaela and plan on using her in the future for my own book. (I will obviously not use any of Vivienne’s stuff because copyright laws exist, but I just love the character’s personality.)

I’m not planning on writing more on Tumblr anytime soon, but the series will stay up for future readers to find and enjoy.

My only goal with this was to reach a few people and have one person - just one - say they liked my writing. :)

Thank you, Hoteliers. Without you, this project wouldn’t have happened.

To power, chaos, and love!

As always, stay smutty <3

kaylopolis

Btw looking for feedback, feel free to send me a message!

-> Link to Masterlist

Tagged Hoteliers:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta @reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages @chibistar45 @rapunzelbro @stephydearestxo

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the-xolotl · 6 months ago

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Thank you so much @hurthermore !!

thank you to my super talented friend for this cute lil commission of my OC <33 i’m going to adore it for the rest of eternity.

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wendigonamecaller · 7 months ago

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This entire fic is beautifully crafted, give my wife the love she deserves for this masterpiece!

»»------► 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (18+) - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚎𝚗

✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚎𝚗 ✦ 𝙰𝙾𝟹 ✦

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘.

Word Count: 𝟹.𝟽𝚔

Warnings: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞�� 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕

𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 :( 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅 :𝙳

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚎 <𝟹

Alastor remembered ever so vividly the first time he had ever laid his cold, dead eyes on you; in the warm and lively environment of a not so legal establishment, made specifically for get-togethers among the not so ethically rich and somewhat influential individuals. A high end speakeasy.

He had arrived there for appearances only, being much more accustomed to the speakeasy his dear friend Mimzy ran to partake in illegalities during the prohibition. He had found this particular speakeasy too elitist and supercilious for his liking, contrasting the down to earth and humble joint he was accustomed to. It was undeniable that the distinct place he currently inhabited would be a rather good spot for a hunting grounds, despite his distaste for it; the rich were filled to the brim with evil, rooted right down to their cores, a target would be identified and located within these walls, ever so easily.

But he hadn’t been brought here on his own that night. No, his coworkers had indulged, coerced him into making an arrival in this specific establishment tonight, merely on the basis of hierarchy; to build and climb it to gain a better standing in respect and business opportunities among the wealthy. Which meant a victim was unlikely; it could, would draw attention, suspicion onto him. He needn’t familiar eyes to perceive him in case they were able to expose what he truly was; a murderer.

So he yielded, only to find himself with a few fingers of rye in his glass, being left at the bar as his coworkers from the radio station mingled among the ossified wealth. And as he leaned against the counter, watching the vibrant atmosphere, Alastors attention could only be directed onto the lit up entrance as a woman walked through ever so gracefully; you. His entire body became stiff, his teeth gritting in his smile as his heart rate pulsed in an erratic rhythm; he swore he witnessed an aura of light behind you as you ambled in the building, your arm linked with a man whose presence seemed to dim that very light you carried with you. The same man that he would soon learn was your husband.

He didn’t know what was drawing him into you at first. Undeniably, you held a beauty that he had never witnessed before, almost as if you were mere fiction; a gemstone that possessed a rarity like no other, a true one of a kind. But Alastor had seen many a beautiful women before in his lifetime; despite none of them being able to hold a candle to the light you radiated or the sense of emotion you inflicted within him, the point still remained. It didn’t cohere in Alastor’s mind what was happening; what feelings he was experiencing, the ones that had never occurred to him before, but he knew he felt a pull, a want to be in your presence, to intrude in it and embellish within it.

At first, he considered if he had a strange desire to kill you; he had only ever ended the lives of those who were ill intentioned, never having the inclination to harm someone of innocence before. But the only thing he could relate those unknown emotions that bloomed within him, the ones directed purely at you, was the similarity in emotion he attained when snuffing out the life of another. It was so different how the emotions function, behaved, but the thrill he attained from murder was oddly similar to the pump in his heart as he looked at you.

Yet as he considered puncturing his hatchet into you, ending your life before soaking in your blood and consuming your flesh, a tug of disgust and guilt doused him. He didn’t like the imagery of the light being taken from your eyes, but he also didn’t appreciate how many new emotions you were bringing out of him; he had barely glanced your way, and for some strange reason, you were able to sink your claws into his chest and fiddle with every hidden feeling his heart had either cast away long ago or simply never uncovered.

Despite having the desperate urge to bask in your presence, no matter what his intent was, he waited for his chance to approach you as the older man; the one that was much older than you, possibly a whole decade older, whom you entered the establishment with wouldn’t leave your side, clinging to you as he showed you off like you were a piece of delectable meat. Nor would he stop touching you; stilling his grubby hands all over your body as you visually showcased discomfort from his touch.

It oddly agitated him, being forced to simply watch as another man touched you up; a strange sensation of envy coursing through him as he was forced to witness the engagement. Alastor could only observe as you continuously drank glass after glass of Gin Rickeys, clearly attempting to ease the situation you were enduring as the older man enforced his presence onto you. Your eyebrows constantly furrowing ever so slightly as a sense of hate began to etch into your features ever so slightly.

Maybe it was time for Alastor to interfere.

But as his long legs began to stride towards you, you had managed to slip away from the older man, only to push your way through the crowd and towards the darkness of the restrooms. Thinking on his feet, Alastor ordered a quick glass of Gin Rickey, the only drink you had consumed that night, intending on offering it to you as he stalked you; not comprehending that it was inherently wrong as he followed your elegant and slightly stumbling form towards the ladies room, and as he waited for you to exit the restroom, he leaned his back against the wall.

Why was he doing this? Going out of his way to stalk a belle, a lady of all things; it was extremely out of character for him, not knowing exactly what was compelling him to seek out your presence, but he knew he craved it; more than he craved to carve his hatchet in the bodies of his victims.

Sighing in frustration, Alastor hit his head on the wall he leaned against intentionally, truly considering if this was the correct choice of action; approaching you as you were alone, in the darkness of the back of a speakeasy, planning on offering you a drink of liquid that would inevitably make you more intoxicated than you already were.

Perhaps not.

So why couldn’t he get his body to leave?

Why did the thought of not having the opportunity to speak with you crush his innards uncomfortably so?

As he began to stare into the glass that held your giggle juice, he deeply contemplated the whole ordeal, and before logic could embed within in him, you had stumbled out of the restroom, and despite how ditzy the alcohol had made you and had formed a stumble in your step, you had managed to gracefully waltz through the door, your form ever so slightly more relaxed from when you were with that man. Without truly registering how close your form was becoming; he could only hitch his breath as he took in your appearance from a closer view.

You were truly more beautiful up close.

He couldn’t look away, even as he pushed himself off the wall, he simply couldn’t pull his gaze from you. He was so entranced that he hadn’t realised how close you had truly become until you had bumped into him ever so slightly whilst you attempted to walk back into the main hall of the speakeasy. And even though you had hardly stumbled back from the bump, Alastor, without thinking, had automatically reached out for you, gripping his grip around your bicep in his free hand to balance you; to prevent you from potentially falling.

Hadn't you seen him?

The electrical shocks of something he couldn’t describe only flowed through him as his stomach flipped; a queasy emotion floating through him from simply touching you, an oddly pleasant sensation. “I'm so sorry…” You had slurred, your soft spoken and elegant voice forcing his blood to pump through his veins faster; he wasn’t sure if he liked this or not, didn’t know if he enjoyed how you had made his heart race to this extent.

Staring at you, keeping his smile intact, just as always, Alastor held back the glass he had attained just for you; one that kept all its liquidised contents within even when you had bumped into him; he had a good balance, had to for his not so morally correct hobbies. “Don’t apologise my dear! It was my fault for being in your way!” He held up his usual facade, the charming and sought after personality he had accumulated over the years of his life; a mastery of manipulation to gain favour of his fellow people.

Holding out his hand for yours, you accepted without even thinking about it, zero hesitation; dangerously trusting for someone you had never met. Perhaps it was simply from the alcohol you had intaken. “Such a pleasure to meet you, dear,” He had spoken with a smooth seduction rolling from his mouth without realising it. “The name’s Alastor! And yours?” His face leaned in ever so slightly as he awaited your introduction.

As he heard you relay your name to him, slipping the word through your lips, he couldn’t help but feel entranced, captivated, by not only how you spoke, but how beautiful your name was, how stunningly soft it rolled off your pink tongue; how it emerged a fluttering within the chambers of his heart. He allowed his own larynx to mimic your name back to you, finding himself becoming warm from simply vacating the word that belonged to you.

He didn’t miss how you had tensed ever so slightly as he repeated your name back to you; no, he was too observant to allow anything, even the most subtle of actions to bypass him.

So you liked it when he spoke your name.

Noted.

Originally, Alastor truly wanted to offer you the drink in his hand, but with how tipsy you already were, he didn’t think it appropriate to sink any more alcohol into your system; he wondered if you’d even remember this night from how out of it you were. So instead, he moved his arm to snake along your arm before holding onto your shoulder, unintentionally pulling you in; an action he had subconsciously enacted. “You seem a tad tipsy my dear, perhaps we should sit you down?” He said, as a guise, imbedding your thoughts with intent to help, which he oddly wanted to, but he wouldn’t deny he just simply wished to experience what it would feel like to hold you close, even on a subliminal level.

You were so small compared to him, the crown of your head standing at the height of his shoulders, your body so frail compared to his. If he truly wished it, he could snap you in half right here, right now. Swinging down the alcoholic beverage he had intended for you to consume, he attempted to alleviate not only the strange thoughts he was experiencing, but the emotions coursing through him as he pulled you in.

Why did he oddly crave to smother you as you stood there; almost leaning against him?

It made his chest constrict, a feeling he still wasn’t certain of; not only its meaning, but if he had actually enjoyed the pang of emotions. Yet before he could truly analyse how he felt as he held you, you spoke up, agreeing to his suggestion of getting you somewhere to sit.

You’re lucky he didn’t wish to kill you; you would be a far too easy catch.

For some reason, the next words you spoke shattered everything he had accumulated over the span of a simple evening; all the raw undignified emotions that had coursed through him and his entirety, all to crash down from a simple sentence.

“My husband would kill me if he saw us.”

He took it figuratively; the killing, not being registered as a literal statement, but as an exaggerated one. Yet that’s not what inflicted the pieces within him to shatter, no, it was the fact you were wed. It made complete and utter sense to him though; a beauty like you would obviously be snatched up at the shortest notice, but the thought of you loving another man truly broke something inside him.

What was wrong with him?

He didn’t wish to submit himself into feeling such things.

Apart from your beauty, what was enforcing these emotions onto him? Was he simply blinded by looks, or was there something more, something hidden underneath that he had yet to decipher?

Reflecting, Alastor could only deliberate that it was for the best; having such strong emotions, especially ones that had been enacted simply by looking at you, it wasn’t sustainable. He was a cold hearted killer, one who hadn’t truly cared for another being since the passing of his mother; mixing you into his life, he couldn’t see it working out for him positively.

His attention was fixated back onto your physicality as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. Every little detail of your face to be memorised within the depths of his psyche for a lifetime, forcing his breath to hitch yet again; a newly found habit he was unsure of.

Why couldn’t he decide whether he hated or loved how his breath hitched whenever you looked at him?

Before he could truly study the contents of the depths of your irises, a grating masculine voice bellowed throughout the establishment, one that had surprisingly roared over the music of jazz and swing that played ever so loudly; a voice that called your name.

He couldn’t shake off how it pulled on his heartstrings as your face began to contort from one of relaxation to perturbed, how the corners of your lips downcast as your eyes glinted with an emotion he had only witnessed once before in his entire life among the masses of people he had met.

It was the same glint that glimmered through his own eyes whenever he was in a state of murderous intent.

For some reason, that tiny little glitter of desire for death that shimmered in your eye made everything he had felt prior feel like nothing.

All his emotions felt like they were on overdrive.

A sense, a want to entirely not only consume you, but be consumed by you doused him, instilling an intense want of attraction and infatuation within him.

His grip on you tightened ever so slightly as you tried to leave his grasp, to make your way to the voice that called for you.

He didn’t want you to leave.

But as quickly as his grip tightened, he released you, and with how easily you brushed away from him, it was obvious you hadn’t noticed.

It took a lot within him to not follow you, to not call back out to you as he watched you slowly leave his presence; but you stopped, only to turn around to look at him once more, your lips moving ever so subtly with another slur.

“You have a really pretty smile, Alastor.”

Something simply clicked in his head; the way you walked away from him, the way you had turned around just to compliment him despite seeming on edge; the way your eyes had glinted with the same expression of murderous intent, the exact same one he found himself experiencing so many times.

He knew now.

He wanted to consume you.

But not in the way he consumed his victims; no. He craved to consume you in a completely new way that had never registered in his mind before. He wanted to consume who you were, to consume your essence, the emotions you had to offer, the figurative heart that held your expressions of love and desires, the murderer within you that could oh so easily be pushed into action with just a little push.

He wanted it all.

And most of all.

He wanted to see you kill.

The desire to see you soaked in the blood of another human, splattered in organs with lust in your eyes was all he could imagine, all he could perceive as your form slowly stumbled away. He wanted to ravish you; not only in that scenario, but even now.

He wanted you entirely, but would you want him?

Unlikely.

Yet the way you expressed such murderous intent as that masculine voice had called for you, he wondered, hoped that it was your reaction to the man you had said who held your hand in marriage; if so, perhaps pursuing you wouldn’t be as taxing, as difficult as he had once believed.

And the way you had tensed as he himself had spoken your name back to you had him believing you felt something to him, even if that was delusional thinking.

Perhaps he had a chance; if only he could confirm one thing.

Despite trying desperately to hold himself back from following you, he couldn’t contain himself; couldn’t control his actions as his footsteps began imprinting against the ones you had just indented with your heels into the carpet below, inevitably stalking you once more as you reentered the lively main hall of the speakeasy. It took all but a second to spot the beauty you radiated as he stalked back into the room, merging himself in with the crowd as he continued to watch your every move; he couldn’t help but notice how your demeanour became much more stiff and formal as you began to approach the man you had entered the establishment with.

Glaring, Alastor could only crave to snuff out the life from that disgusting man, especially as his fingers began to wrap around your waist, squishing the fat of your hips before smothering your face with a kiss that you attempted to avoid.

It was plain to see that this man was your husband.

It was the first time Alastor had felt a need to kill without explicitly knowing if his victim was a person of malevolence; unlike before, where he was unsure of his emotions towards you, this was explicitly clear to him, he truly wished to end the man who had acquired ownership of you.

He wished to be in your husband’s place; but with love glimmering in your eyes and not hate. The wrath and pure envy that poured throughout him internally as he endured watching your husband’s grip on you was inordinate.

He wondered how you would take it if he murdered your husband; would you be disgusted just as the rest of society, or would you thank him, only to run into his arms?

The latter was clearly mere fantasy.

Yet as he continued to observe you as you interacted with your husband; your facial expressions much more clearer from this distance, he noticed that murderous glint yet again.

So it indeed was your husband who brought that out of you.

But why?

Why would you be married to a man you clearly detested to the point of desiring to murder him?

It wasn’t clear to Alastor as to the reason, but for some reason, his smile tightened at the new glimmer of information he had just obtained from merely watching you; and as he contemplated on how to truly attain you, it registered that to actually capture you entirely was to make you accept his murderous tendencies before you had even realised them; you had to accept him before knowing what he was.

That meant encouraging you to end the life of the person who emerged that murderous intent out of you.

You had to kill your husband before he could truly attain you.

This was good; good intel, and the thought of having you covered in your husband's blood oddly had his own blood rushing to places he wasn’t ready to acknowledge nor entertain.

He never even knew he could feel such emotions in his heart, let alone the lust that began to douse him from mere thoughts and fantasies.

You were truly an enigma; bringing out every emotion out of him, even ones he had never experienced before, and he hadn’t even truly basked in anything you had to offer yet.

It was ridiculous, in a way.

Pathetic.

Yet he liked it. Liked the thrill, the unknowing of emotions that coursed through him, it was exhilarating, even so far as to exceed the thrill and emotions of killing.

Who knew he would find someone he could potentially be with?

Not him.

But with the addition of how susceptible you seemed to murder, he knew you only needed but a push, just a little tiny nudge to finally enact such an intimate act of violence; which not only meant you would most likely accept his own murderous tendencies, but it meant that most likely, he wouldn’t have to resort to locking you away in his cellar.

Blinking at himself rapidly, he wondered where the thought came from; the thought of locking you away.

A truly dangerous thought.

But one he found not exactly hating if the need arose for it.

Despite his train of thought, he continued to watch you, observe you; disliking how much it affected him that you failed to notice him hidden within the crowd, but also enjoyed being able to perceive you without your knowledge.

He continued to do as such, perceive you as you kept on drinking before ultimately, your husband began tugging you from out of the establishment; your steps more inconsistent and sluggish than before, and Alastor could only continue to stalk you, even when the night cold outside air hit his face like a ton of bricks.

He continued to stalk you.

Even when your husband shoved you into a car before getting into the driver's seat, which was not only irresponsible, but angered Alastor on a level like no other; your husband was putting you in danger by drunk driving. Yet he couldn’t fixate on that currently; not when his intent was to follow you, so he rushed to his own car despite his own intake of alcohol, only to follow the car you sat in.

And only when the car he followed entered the estate of your home did Alastors stalking cease to exist.

For that night at least.

He had gained the information he needed now; your residency.

𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗!<𝟹 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛/𝙾𝙲 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑<𝟹

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

@cherry-cola-100 @hana-en @undrgroundtheme @roxxie-wolf @mutifandomkid @gentle-aesthetic-bby @itsmskeisha @k1y0yo @d34dl0ve @reikamasama @taygirl24 @alastorssimp @ieatcocoa @tremendoushearttaco @spottypug @bishiglomper @marcysbear @zazamagicaldonut @little-slyvixen @wendigonamecaller @schiz0preniczz @trippoverrt @reader3 @kittyandbluey @xinhar @sol3chu @yuckypuppie @forest-knights @ivebeenthearchersstuff @feellaaya @babesway22 @straows @blobin456drawz @saccharine-nectarine @blakeaha @nishayuro @impulsivethoughtsat2am @zarabethe @petrichorvzlia-blog @burninupa-star @alastorsaries @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @rapturenyx-blog @charlottemorningstarsdarling @witchykitten @luv4th3m @iiotic @dark-mark @acefluxanomaly

#hurthermore #alastor x you #a misconduct of love #alastor #human alastor

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theaestheticsromance · 6 months ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬

Art done by @hurthermore

this was my very first piece of art i had commissioned by the amazing and wonderful @hurthermore and they did so well on it.

#alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor x male reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #radiowings #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart

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lustylita · 6 months ago

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Switch Haven

COME AND GET IT!

@hurthermore and I collabed together and created this masterpiece! Enjoy!

Imagine him waking you up in the dead of night with his hot cock rubbing between your thighs.

With intrude, you wake up ever so slightly with a grogginess you weren’t expecting. Taloned claws gripped the flesh of your cheeks before a familiar voice hushed you, telling you, warning you to be good and just let him fuck your tight little cunt. “I’ll do all the work darling, I just need to feel you. Now open up and let me fuck you senseless.”

Still out of it, you respond with instinct alone by lifting one leg and bending it at an angle by the knee; giving him full access to the intimate area only he had the pleasure of ever experiencing. Your walls throbbing with need, you didn’t know what had happened for you to become so wet while you were still sleeping.

With praise, Alastor mumbled into your ear, vocalising how good you were, how you’re his perfect little slut, obeying him and only him without even needing to be fully conscious. His cock began sliding into you oh so slowly as one hand gripped around your neck whilst the other slid down to strum your clit.

The slow and passionate pace he set had your orgasm rising quicker than usual, the soft pets he gave you touched you just right, the way his hot, groaning breath tickles your ears as he kisses your neck had you overwhelmed with stimulation.

Clenching down on him with how fast your orgasm began to rise, your back arched to get his long length deeper into you, forcing an incoherent whimper of his name to become the only thing you could manage to articulate. The pull of sleep still trying to claim you, even though your body was exhaustedly hot and tense, you bucked into his cock that thrusted in and out of you, but the hand that played with your throbbing bud kept you right where he wanted you.

Softly, his sharpened yellow teeth bit into the flesh of your shoulder as your walls squeezed him with intent, massaging and pulsing down on him as you coaxed him further into his own peak. The fingers against your clit pressing harsher against it as his thrusts become slightly faster, his enjoyment of the situation becoming all too clear. Your eyes became heavy, unable to truly process anything as your exhaustion remained present, yet you cried out as Alastor claimed a peak from you, forcing your gushing juices to coat his hard and throbbing cock that laid within you.

The feeling was unique, the pleasure, on one hand, was blinding, but the relaxation it brought you was exquisite. Becoming slightly more aware, the tips of your fingers reached back, finding their destination through your lover's red and black hair before scratching at the base of his ears; knowing full well that this little act of petting would help him reach his peak quicker.

Rubbing his ears with softness, his groans became louder in a shuddering sensation. His lips that laid against your ear began to mumble away as his ecstasy induced orgasm began to cover not only your walls, but had seeped into your cervix. Whining out your name in a low husk as he fucks his orgasm into your cunt, he speaks, relaying to you how perfect you feel, how you belonged to purely him. As his cock began to splatter the last drops of his cum, he placed his lips against your shoulder, sucking with harshness, creating a suction against your skin as he left sloppy hickies marked on your flesh.

Letting out a content moan at the familiar feeling, you loved the sensation, the idea and the enactment of being filled so completely by him. Chuckling in his grasp, you had found this to be the most sexually arousing thing he had done to you by far. "You should wake me up like this more often, my love." Your voice is still groggy due to your unconscious mind only recently being awoken, but the call of sleep was far out of your reach now.

He sighs contently in your ear at your comment before whispering against it. “Careful what you say, my darling, or you’ll be losing sleep at a rate that will have you begging me to stop.” He mumbled before gripping your posterior, pulling you apart to watch, to witness his own ejactulation glisten from your cock stuffed cunt.

“Promise?” You murmured in a tease, your own breath stuttering as you jolted from the sudden sensation of his large hand spanking against the flesh of your ass in a retaliating act of your comment, his pelvis pushing into you ever so slightly as he assaulted you.

With a wicked smirk you pushed back against him harshly, clenching down on his sensitive cock still buried balls-deep inside your stretched cunt.

"Why don't I return the favour? You took care of me, my big strong buck, let me take care of you instead now." Turning your head to look at him in the eye, you batted your lashes softly, knowing, understanding, that this little act of begging would get him to agree to just about anything.

Breathlessly, he agreed by manhandling your still slightly sleep induced form to straddle his lap; his cock not once leaving you, somehow. With a moaning grunt, you flinched as his cock reached further within you, bullying the opening of your cervix at the new angle.

“Go on then darling,” He groans as he gyrates his hips, thrusting them up into yours to push his tip into your cervix. “Take care of The Radio Demon and jump on his cock.” Letting out a breathy moan at his words, your form leaned backwards to grip onto Alastor’s thighs for support.

You loved this side of Alastor. He had always felt so authentically himself when he was tangled in your sheets and his cock snugged within your core.

Lengthening out your spine, allowing his large cock to hit even deeper into your cervix, you smiled down at him as you began to move, began to rock against his thrusts, twisting your hips with every downward stroke. Increasing your speed, your breathy moans stayed still within the depths of your oesophagus every time Alastors tip rammed against your cervix, not caring that your core and thighs stung with overexertion.

"You feel so good my buck; so big. No one could fill me up the way you do." You moaned as you tilted your head back, exposing the bite on your shoulder that he had inflicted but moments ago before you bucked against him, practically bouncing on his fat length.

“And no one can take me like this, darling. Only you get to take my cock. Always you.” He murmurs as you bounce slowly against him, your mouth agape as his claws etch into the crevice of your hips.

Crying out at his words, your back arched backwards as you pressed yourself further into him with every bounce. “I’d hope so,” You moan as your bouncing never ceases. “Considering that you’re all mine.” You hiss as your jumps against his cock become harsher.

Purring at your words, Alastor bucked his hips into you harshly as his palms assisted in guiding you onto his cock, showing how he loved it when you got as possessive about him as he was for you. "Prove it to me, my little doe~" He groans up at you, causing your eyes to light up in challenge.

Gracefully you lean forward, forcing Alastors thrusts to halt as he peers up at you curiously. Attempting to ignore the way his burning hot thick cock throbbed against your twitching walls, you place a supporting hand on the flesh of his sternum as the other wrapped around his throat with a subtle squeeze.

It was a sight to see; your delicate fingers hardly making it around the circumference of his neck. But with the help of your freshly manicured claws you were able to restrict his airflow successfully. "Careful what you wish for, my buck~" You smiled dangerously as you slowly began to resume your aggressive pace from before.

Oh how the tables had turned as you jumped against his cock with vigour, with such force it caused your skin to enact a slapping sensation against his with an echo. The bed creaking with more potency than intended.

As his groans mixed in with the tunes of the sexual sounds that already reverberated within the room, his tongue lapped out from his lips as he panted like a damned dog, unable to speak but a word as you only slightly cut off his air flow. You could tell he was becoming dizzy, disorientated as his eyes stopped looking at your beautiful face as they began rolling back into the depths of his skull.

“Dont you dare stop watching me as I fuck you, Al.” You mumbled through your teeth as his cock bullied your womb.

On your knees, you buck against Alastor harder, your combined fluids sticking your ass to his pelvis every time you grind down against him. Grabbing a fist of his red hair with your free hand, you forced him to make eye contact with you.

“I want you to remember every detail of this, Al.” You bared your teeth at him, the friction against your clit borderline excruciating, but it didn’t slow your pace, as you were determined to see the Radio Demon cry. Loosening your grip on his neck, you could tell he desired air as little droplets of tears emerged from his waterline. “Come on handsome, sing for me, I know you can.” You groaned down at him.

Lifting your hips up until only the head of his cock stretched your entrance, you grinned with cheek and cockiness. But knowing that your actions were sure to bite you in the ass later, you stop and clench down, intending on milking the entire situation as far as you could before it ceased.

“Fuck, darling.” He groaned behind his sharpened yellow teeth as your hips snapped your clenching cunt down on him, fucking him into submission, his cock twitching as you squeezed your walls with intention, milking him, coercing him into another orgasm.

His claws dug into you, forcing droplets of blood to seep from your flesh as you continued to bounce, each bounce harsher, harder and more ferocious than the last. His moans begging that you don’t stop, that you were perfect, and all entirely his. And as he focused his eyesight at the action of your core slapping against his cock and pelvis, he could feel a second orgasm peak as remnants of his previous ejactulation splattered against the flesh of your cunt and the skin of his pelvis.

Moaning at the delicious pain, your fingers grip against his neck again; Alastor's words of love and encouragement spurring you on, motivating you to go even faster. Without thought, you morphed into your demonic form, using the extra strength it provided you to stay upright and push against him harder.

Crying out your lover's name, your moans raised in volume and pitch as your own orgasm began building up within your lower abdomen, the heat of everything becoming more and more prominent. With a harsh grind against his pelvis, you crashed into your orgasm, full lips parting in a wordless cry as you gushed around him. You weren’t sure if you had screamed or not, as the blood rushing through your ears made it hard to audibly intake anything.

Feeling your walls clench in a fit of spasms, Alastor’s clawed talons gripped your neck and shoulder before pushing your entire form backwards; forcing your back to hit the bed behind you. With a snarling grin, Alastor fucked into you relentlessly as you continued to cum on his large, throbbing cock.

Eyes rolling back, you let out a pitched squeal that faded into a choked gasp as Alastor clenched his large, clawed fingers around the delicacy of your neck. Stuttering out Alastor’s name, you could barely coherently speak as the blood that circulated your body rushed south, his strong thrusts forcing your orgasm to intensify into a squirt, flooding his length with your orgasm-induced juices as he continued to abuse your cervix with his fat, wet and throbbing cock.

Needing something to grasp onto, your palms reached up to grab one of his pointed, fluffed ears as your other hand gripped the back on his head, forcing him down into a messy open-mouthed kiss.

Feeling his lips connect with yours. your cries become muffled, ceasing them to echo into the pits of the room and into the mouth of your lover. His reciprocation of the kiss forced your squirting cunt to prolong ever so slightly as your legs twitched around his hips. Yet despite your orgasm, Alastor seemed hell bent on fucking you back into submission. “Such a dirty girl, cumming all over me like that.” He teased you as he pulled away from the kiss. “It’s quite the sight when you take control, darling.” He had somehow managed to mumble through his sexual groans. “But I do love seeing you submit beneath me; so submit and cry for me.” He mumbled through his teeth as he thrusted into you at a pace that was sure to break your pelvis bone.

Lips trembling, you could barely hear your lover’s words, but the look he sent your way had you squeezing hard against his length. You loved egging him on, the rewards made it so worth it.

Would you be able to walk today? No.

But will the ache be worth it? Yes.

Tilting your head back you let out a keening whine, eyes blurring with tears as your pelvis goes numb with the pleasure. Screaming out his name, your voice strained with how much you were screaming that your mind began to become dizzy, too overwhelmed, but also wishing that Alastor fucking you with such roughness and passionate love would never end.

As you yelled out his name again, his thrusts became uneven, uncontrollable. And as he continued to kiss your swollen and abused lips, Alastor’s cock stilled into your cunt as he released his own additional orgasm with an usual moan that echoed into your mouth. His movements twitched with every spurt that left his tip, forcing him to thrust against you when every new spill that exited his cock.

You swore you could hear him mumbling your name against your lips as he rode through his orgasm, and as your fingers latched around his face, he seemed so in love as he finally relaxed inside of you.

With a content moan, you trembled underneath him, body now aching in the best way as you became boneless. You craved to have him as close as possible, to have his heated skin flush against yours. Trailing your hands to travel up his back ever so gently, you ran your claws lightly up and down his back. "Fuck Al... i can barely feel my legs." You let out a breathless giggle, nuzzling into the crevice of his neck before pressing open mouthed kisses to any piece of skin you made contact with. "I hope you know I'm not leaving the bed today."

Pulling away from you, Alastor pressed a soft kiss against your lips before descending his head to your cunt. With wide eyes, you watched as he lifted your thighs over his shoulders, only to hover his face over your cum soaked core; his eyes not once leaving yours as he inhaled the musk of not only your cunt and its juices, but the musk of his own seed deeply.

Your eyes widen at his movement, your legs trembling as you suck in a sharp breath. "Al?" Your voice cracked as you knew if he even pressed his nose against your clit, it would sting in such a delicious way.

Choking a gasp, his face pressed against your core; his tongue flattened as he petted your clit.

Mewling, you could only reach for his antlers as the pleasure and overstimulated pain he inflicted onto you had you conflicted on continuation. You could hear him almost growl as you tugged his antlers, seemingly unsure on whether you wanted him to pull away or carry on.

But Alastor had seemingly decided for you as his claws latched into your thighs before he sunk his prolonged tongue into the depths of your cunt. Bucking against his mouth involuntarily, you let out a moan, not really understanding if it was induced by pleasure or pain.

Twisting your fingers you begin to stroke at the base of Alastor's antlers in retaliation, your hips twitching against his mouth from the pain. "Fuck!" You cried out with a stutter, panting so hard that your lips began to tingle.

How was this pleasurable?

You had no idea how, but the warmth, sloppy and wet feeling of your lover's long tongue lapping at your walls began to feel less sore and more warm and tingly.

"Al, please!" You had no idea what you were begging for, but fuck did you need it. Feeling him tightening that stupid smirk of his against you, you cried out in overstimulated pleasure. His teeth grazing the lips of your cunt as he furthered his tongue within you; purposefully prolonging it to fill out your cum soaked walls.

You didn’t know how to feel as he drank up the juices of both of your and his evidence of cum that mixed within you, but you found it undeniably arousing.

He wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t cease plunging his tongue in and out of you whilst smelling the flesh of your clit. His hair sticking against your sweat and cum soaked thighs as he became sloppily relentless with his pace.

“Al! Don’t stop!” Not caring that your voice reverberates through hell, you moan out loudly into the morning air, clamping your thighs against the sides of his face, further sticking him to you, needing him pressed against you.

“Use your teeth Al, please, I can barely feel anything.” Tears of frustration and overstimulation gather on your lower lashes as you grip his antlers harder, pulling him even closer, grinding against his tongue. “Please I need-“ you were practically babbling a stutter now, half delirious and half extremely aroused, your orgasm so close but not quite at the peak.

With a growl, he ragged his head away from your cunt, your palms being scratched deeply by the sharpened ends of his antlers as he pulled away.

“Can’t feel anything?” He bared his teeth. “Greedy little darling, aren’t you? Always begging for more despite me going above and beyond for you.” His claws latched around your face, squishing your cheeks together as his tentacles slowly began appearing behind him menacingly. “I’ve had an awful day, my love. And I thought my lovely little darling could help alleviate some of that for me; but no.” His claws became sharper before he stuffed them into your cunt. “You always have to beg for more, don’t you?” Every word rumbled from his throat with anger and pause, making sure every single word was pronounced individually as his fingers rammed deeply into you along with every pronunciation.

"N-no Al that's not what I mea-“ Eyes widening at the switch from his soft tongue to his sharp claws had you drooling – head going empty, the pain travelling up your spine sharply and making you dizzy.

“I’m sorry you had- AH! A bad day-“ Barely able to get the words out with how aggressive Alastor was ramming his fingers into you, you truthfully felt bad; remorseful. But since your mouth was the one that got you into this situation, if hurting you slightly for being a brat would help your lover calm down, you would do it happily, and with a smile.

Baring your neck at Alastor you let out a soft moan. “You can take your frustrations out on me, I’m yours to do with as you please, Al.” Closing your eyes tightly, you attempted to ignore the way your walls clamped down on his fingers from the mere thought of being covered in his sharp, sloppy bites and hickeys.

Growling yet again, he leaned into your neck before piercing his sharp, pointed teeth into your flesh, forcing pools of blood to seep against his tongue as he continued to ram his fingers into you; his cum and your juices sputtering out of you with every push.

Sucking the ink of blood that he had forced out of your skin, he lifted his mouth away from your throat, your blood dripping from the corners of his mouth before he spoke. “You just can’t help but be conflicting can you? Always good, always bad; the only thing you’re consistent at is being mine aren’t you? Dirty girl.” He spat as his fingers never relented, and before you could attempt to touch him, his black appendages wrapped around your limbs, holding them down tightly against the bed.

Writhing against the cool shadow-appendages you started to cry, you couldn’t help it, this was a new overwhelming sensation, the urge to be good outweighing anything else, the ache of the bite helping you go into this new headspace. No words could escape, not even moans, your chest locked up as your vision swirled.

All you could realistically do was do what he wanted; be his good girl and take it. And that’s what you did, what you had to do. Blinking the tears out to clear your vision, your breath hitched at that sight that greeted you: Alastor above you, his tongue lapping up the remnants of your blood, his tentacles pinning you down as he fucked his cum back into you at a painful pace.

The sun in hell had begun to rise, lighting up one side of the man above you. His eyes locked onto yours, the sunlight highlighting the cum and blood that still coated his mouth, his chest and lower stomach in a light sheen from his sweat and your cum. He was so attractive, especially like this. Closing your eyes, you couldn’t help but cum at the sight before you.

How did you manage to get the attention of the Radio Demon to begin with?

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fraugwinska · 6 months ago

Text

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.

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