helluvapoison

[helluvapoison]

So I'm not seeing this particular kink and I am appalled! imagine group sex with Lucifer and only Lucifer because it's shown he can make multiple versions of himself and to top it all off with his shape shifting abilities?! *fans self*

i  am  so  sorry  it  took  me  so  long  to  get  to  this  but  i  love  this  request  sm!!!  i  decided  to  use  candy  as  adjectives  bc  the  vibes  felt  right,  hehe.  hope  you  don't  mind!  if  this  does  well  i  may  or  may  not  write  more,  but  we'll  see!

( edit : it just occurred to me that i forgot the shapeshifting AAAAAAA I WILL WRITE IT SOMETIME I’M SO SORRY AGHHH )

— m.list     requests

₊˚     ʚ     MARSHMALLOW. ( + 18. ) LUCIFER  X  GENDER  NEUTRAL  READER

There is candy on his lips in the way he kisses you, needy hands finding your own on the bed before your fingers intertwine like lace. He pinned your hand to the wall behind you, two more hands tracing down your sternum and sliding down your waist like water while a sharp nip at your neck causes you to jolt.

You opened your eyes and there’s one, two, three, four … a fifth Lucifer leaning back against a couch in his room, drink in his hand with his elbows propped up on the headrest. 

“Lu, you’re not … coming?” You found yourself asking, but you bit your lip from the other Lucifers’ administrations on your neck, one spreading your thighs apart, another cupping your cheek.

“Is four not enough for you, darling?” Lucifer chuckles and it might have been the cruelest thing you ever heard—now that was ridiculous. 

You’ve heard worse but your heart kicked and writhed like the tongue Lucifer had in your mouth wasn’t licorice-sweet enough already. 

It was night time and seeing as you were Lucifer’s … well, it was complicated up until now. You didn’t know what you were to him but you knew about the sweet tooth he had for these things—the sweet tooth you both shared for this aspect in life. You only wore an oversized shirt and underwear to bed, so it didn’t take much for one of the Lucifers to get between you, your back arched as your lips rolled open. 

But Lucifer still sat unmoving on the couch.

You looked at him, of course you did—tears framed your cheeks from the pleasure as the Lucifer between you struck that familiar bundle of marshmallow nerves over and over. 

“Luci …” you moaned his name softly, voice peaking in time with his thrusts. 

He finally placed the drink down with a clink before making his way towards you, his lookalike never relenting as he only sped up inside you. 

“There there, honey. I’m coming.” 

( taglist : @sunnie21 @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @rineptune ) lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

#hazbin hotel x reader smut #lucifer morningstar x reader smut

[helluvapoison]

if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold.

alastor, lucifer, rosie, husk

⌇alastor

you looked the radio demon up and down, thinking that doing so from the farthest corner of the bar would ensure he didn’t see you. it’s not like you could help it though. alastor had switched out his normal suit for a gorgeous red velvet, his hair pulled up with what looked like braids in it, no doubt nifty’s doing. you took a sip of your drink and looked down, seeing him look up at your area of the bar.

you had been doing this since you had sat down at the bar. watching him interact with patrons and royalty, who were there to have their pocket books pried open for some funding as well as support for the hotel. it wasn’t an easy task by any means even with lucifer in support of the idea and here tonight. you were supposed to be chatting people up as well, but after the first guy you spoke to kept his hand on your arm for a little too long, you decided you were too sober for all of this.

you saw alastor’s attention be pulled else where, giving you your cue to look back up. he was angled away from you and you gulped audibly. the way the jacket fit his frame, his hair style complimented his long neck, and how his waist looked so deliciously tiny made your stomach warm and your face heat. you had zoned out, your mind taking you to an alternate reality where you had a chance of slipping off that coat of his… you shook your head and your eyes locked with alastor’s. you’re not sure how it was possible but your face heated even more, almost burning with the blush you had at being caught. you couldn’t look away though, even as he smirked at you.

you swallowed heavily and shakily took a sip of your drink as you saw him depart from whoever he was talking to, walk up to the bar and stand close next you.

“just a few fingers of that old rye you have back there.” alastor requested, and husk nodded turning away. giving alastor a chance to look down at you. you felt yourself shrink under his gaze as he smiled again, almost like a smirk. he grabbed the glass husk handed to him and you watched intently as he brought the glass up to his lips and sipped his drink, glancing at his neck and the way it moved. flickering your eyes back up to his as his grin widened. he bent down at his waist, you both face to face now.

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’ll catch a cold darling.” he murmured to you, as your eyes widened and you looked down ashamed. alastor chuckled and you felt his finger draw your face up to look at you again.

“cat got your tongue?” he asks, smirking. you try and speak but no words come out and you feel your face and now arms burning. you take your cool hands and place them on your cheeks. he draws them away, holding them.

“don’t do that. i like the red color. red as blood.” he says, kissing your right cheek, then straightening up and taking his drink and himself back into the middle of the party, shooting glances at you from time to time as you still just watched him charm the crowd.

⌇lucifer

there were many benefits to being with the king of hell. you practically never had to worry about anything, be that financial or even emotional or physical. you knew lucifer had you covered. he was in your corner. once word got around that you were dating the king of hell, the perks increased. you’d walk into a shop and the attendants wouldn’t let you buy anything. there was just a small ask to post it on sinstagram or voxtube and review it. which you never minded, but then that oddly started an influencing career in hell. that definitely was not something on your bingo card for when you died.

right now though, you were faced with the biggest detractor of dating the king of hell. he had to attend this gathering. very boring, and you felt your eyes glaze over as you sipped lucifer’s appletini he left. you watched him converse with this group of royalty and business people, you being the only one left at the table. not that you minded and no, you didn’t want to go make conversation over there. you sighed and decided to use this opportunity to really admire lucifer.

he was dressed in his suit but instead of the white base he wore around normally, the suit was gold with red accents. and it just brought out his eyes so well. he looked ethereal standing there, talking to those people. you gave him a once over and all you could think about was getting him out of that damn suit that fit him so well. just imagining him underneath you, panting and sobbing for-

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i might just catch a cold.” you hear lucifer’s voice in your ear. your gasp sounding more like a moan when he grabs the appletini in your hand and throws it back in one drink.

“undressing you? you were already undressed in my mind. already on the bed if i’m honest.” you murmur to him and watch the blush take his cheeks.

“this boring you?” he asks smiling.

“desperately.” you look at him. “we should go back home. we can pick up where i left off envisioning you on our bed underneath me… begging for more.” you grin wickedly as lucifer gulps. he quickly makes his way over to the group, explaining something and you see them all nod. he quickly makes his way back to you and takes your hand, waiting for you to get up. then he all but drags you out of the venue.

“let’s go home.”

⌇rosie

you had told rosie she should wear her new dress. and damn it she was so excited about it, that of course you said yes. now… a part of you regretted saying she should as one of the gentleman in cannibal town kept talking rosie up while she was checking out a long line of patrons. you tried to breathe as you just watched rosie. you knew she was capable of taking care of herself. you watched how she nimbly packed up different items, wrapping them all while charming all around her. her figure was so graceful and the dress hugged her just right, accentuating her waist. you bit your lip watching her. both of your eyes widening as you caught each others gaze.

you blushed deeply while she smirked at you and checked out the last guest in line. finally she took a second to come over to you.

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold darling.” she purred as she strode up to you. you saw behind her the same gentleman watching the both of you, his gaze hungry. you glared at him as you grabbed a bit of rosie’s skirt possessively, but not wanting to make a show. she chuckled.

“he’s really got you worked up, don’t he?” she asked.

“he keeps flirting with you. it’s disgusting.” you comment, looking at rosie. she hums and pulls you up so you were standing. she still towered over you, as she gently maneuvered you face to look up at her. she smiled again, licking her lips and she bends down and kisses you. your eyes widen as you throw your arms around her neck, reaching up on your tip toes to get closer.

you hum into the kiss, gently weaving your fingers in rosie’s hair and pulling at her nape. you feel the growl that comes from her, slightly panting as she break.

“get a fuckin’ room! absolutely disgusting. there are children!” you hear susan yell and you sigh. you hands at rosie’s waist, absentmindedly rubbing over the boning in the dress.

“i think you need to get back to the shop.” you sigh and rosie nods. “anything i can help with?”

“sit there and look pretty for me?” she asks and you laugh, nodding. you turn to the check out area and smile even brighter.

“he’s gone!” you exclaim. happy the guy from before wasn’t in the store.

“oh, yeah. he left right when i kissed you.” she laughed, patting down some of the fizz in your hair. “needed to make sure that everyone else knew who i was with though.” she winks and walks back up to the front counter as you sit back down and sigh. you wondered how you got so lucky.

⌇husk

watching husk talk to other patrons and quickly whip up drinks was a past time of yours that you greatly favored. it was sort of relaxing seeing him in an element that he excelled in, but honestly, just watching him and how good he was with his hands made you blush.

you were currently off, deep in thought, but husk caught your glance. your eyes widen as you try and look away, attempting to save whatever shred of dignity you had by playing it cool. you knew husk wasn’t dumb though. he had seen you staring.

he went back to work quickly enough and you waiting for a few more moments before looking out of the corner of your eye at him, watching him rim a glass with salt. he poured two liquors in at the same time topping off with some red liquid and a lime wedge, pushing it towards a demon who giggled as their hands touched being passed the drink.

you rolled your eyes and as soon as husk’s back was turned you took your opportunity to really look at him. he wore his usual suspenders and pants, but he had slicked back his hair tonight and had on a white button down shirt with suit themed cufflinks. it was an incredibly dapper look and you couldn’t help imagine taking off the damn shirt he was wearing. loosing your grip on reality again, you didn’t notice a drink being slid to you. you hear the drink before seeing it in front of you, looking up, you meet husk’s eyes. a smirk almost tattooed on his face. you blink a few times, trying to understand, when he chuckles.

“if ya keep starin’ at me sweetheart, and undressin’ me with those eyes of yours, i’m gonna catch a cold.” he takes back your old glass and leaves you sitting there bewildered as he helps the next guest. you take a sip and see a slip of paper from under the glass. you squint to read the scrawled handwriting.

“meet me at 1. party should be wrapped up then. you can stare all ya want.”

you placed your hand over the paper and felt your cheeks grow warm. he was going to be the death of you.

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #husker x reader

[helluvapoison]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀FAV POSITIONS ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. different intercourse positions. praise kink. edging. creampie. overstimulation. sub reader. really soft luci!! usage of 'doll' on alastor's part. #summary : their favorite positions to fuck you in bed !! or something. #note : if you're wondering where the male version of giving/receiving head is, it'll take longer to be posted than you might think :3 I currently do not have the spark to write for that idea.

ʚ LUCIFER .

spooning / missionary position. lucifer prefers to hold you whole while fucking, it provides a sense of security and satisfaction to him at the very least. he would have his arms around your body almost throughout the whole session.

the bright, blinding sun peeps through the small gap between the curtains that covers the windows in your shared room. your fingers claw into the soft bed sheets, droopy eyes fighting to lift open considering how you woke up to lazy thrust of lucifer's hips.

it seems that the both of you almost instantly fell asleep after last night's intercourse while having him remain buried deep in you. it wasn't until when he woke up earlier than you did and felt a warm sensation he normally wouldn't feel that he realized that he slept through the night with his length nestled inside of you.

for some odd reason, that thought alone riled him up. he grunted after feeling his cock twitch inside of you, a shaky breath leaving his lips and hitting your skin. feeling his gaze falling onto your back that faced him, he slowly moved his hips, lips leaning in to press sloppy kisses from your shoulder to the back of your neck. he wanted to wake you up, to have you feel good along with him.

and that brings you to where you are now; body held closely against his, his lean arm wrapped around your waist as his forehead leans against your shoulder. he thrusts at a quicker pace compared to before, soft whines and groans spilling from his lips and so does yours.

every time your skin comes in contact with one another, a throaty moan would be drawn from you with your eyes closed tight. the fog in your head has yet to subside completely, and lucifer is already working to add in more haze to your mind. you feel him dragging deliciously along your walls, body still unable to adjust to the burning sensation at this time of the day.

"morning, baby," he whispers against your now flushed skin, a grin growing on his face when he hears you moan. you grasp onto the soft sheets tighter; him spooning you while fucking into you allows him to reach areas that he normally isn't able to. the feeling made your vision grow blurry, unable to focus on anything other than pleasure.

you moan his name weakly, words incomprehensive as they leave your mouth without giving them another thought. you hear lucifer mumbling about him reaching close to his climax, his grip on your hips tightens significantly as well as the pace of his trust. it merely took a couple more thrusts of his hips before he spilled his warm release inside of you, your body shaking as you climaxed along with him.

your breath is hot against the bed sheet, a strong wave of exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks. lucifer feels the same thing as you do, his upper body falling onto the bed with a soft thud as his elbow gives out. you feel him pull you in closer into his embrace, soft murmurs of sweet nothings into your neck as the both of you drift into yet another slumber for the day.

ʚ ALASTOR .

doggy style / leapfrog position. he likes watching you from above as he fucks you into a mindless, moaning mess. having a clear view of the effect he has on you is exactly what he aims for especially under activities like this, and this positions provides him just the thing he wants. i used doggy style here :3

you feel cold tentacles wrap around your thighs and push them further apart, legs threatening to give out with the hold of his tentacles being the sole support for your body. today is a day when alastor returns home frustrated; his red locks were slightly messed with splinters of hair poking out, brows furrowed on his forehead and his usual grin didn't seem as bright as they usually do.

you did not have much time to register his situation and ask him before getting lifted up by his tentacles, sharp coldness stings your skin where they wrap around. darkness surrounds the both of you before disappearing when you both appear in the bedroom that you share, your body being tossed onto the bed as the hold of his tentacles on your body remains.

despite being harsh and all, there's always a hint of softness in alastor's actions like vocally asking to make sure you're alright and not hurt occasionally. his clawed hands have a firm hold on your hips, his own snapping onto yours brutally to the point where the bed would creak ever so often. your eyes roll back until it's almost completely white, mouth hanging open as uncontrollable babbles roll off your tongue.

his eye twitches in excitement at the sight displayed below him, the sight of you taking him in so nicely drawing out a groan from his throat. slowly, another one of his many tentacles snakes from his back and plunges itself into your mouth through your parted lips, the dampness of your mouth already coating a layer onto it.

"look at you. such great performance from you, doll." praise falls through his gritted teeth while he thrusts into you, doing his best to contain his noises, avoiding being overly vocal. being less vocal makes him feel like he's more of the one in control, despite wanting to let them out so badly because of how good you feel.

you return with a muffled moan in response, walls clamping down on him while you choke on the tentacle that reaches the back of your throat. alastor's grin widens, allowing his tentacles to grip tighter around your thighs, and the other one curls in your mouth. hot tears slide down your face as you feel a strong release approach closer with each of his hard thrusts, a buzzing sound filling your ears along with a few words that he speaks.

the coil in your stomach snapped suddenly without allowing you to vocally warn him about it, your upper body giving out while your lower remains upright solely from the support of his hold. your body shakes intensely, face pressed far into the bed sheet; a spasming mess is what alastor would describe you as currently.

your consciousness was about to fade before your eyes snapped wide open once again, feeling a sudden stretch with a loud slap of your skin. he has not reached climax yet, so of course he's not done.

"will you be so obedient and allow me another round, hm? i have not achieved my goal yet, you see."

ʚ VOX .

mating press position. what can i say, he's absolutely smitten over how you look when he presses you down while fucking deep inside of you. he gets to hear you moan and ramble about how deep he's in, feeling your muscle tense in his hold whenever the tip of his cock kisses the spot inside of you. he's drunk on the feeling and view, always wanting more of it which results in multiple rounds until the both of you are overstimulated.

"doin' so good f' me," vox's voice is shaky along with a slight glitch, heavily hinting at the pleasure he's receiving. a streak of pink line connects from the corner of his mouth down to the frame of his screen, a wobbly grin plastered on his face.

his clawed fingers hold a firm grip on the back of your knees, pressing them onto your chest while simultaneously rocking his hips against yours. his gaze locks with the thick liquid that oozes out from you every time his cock fully pushes in, forcing the liquid out and rolling down your clammy skin. the demon moans at the sight, significantly increasing his pace and making you yelp in surprise.

you're fuzzy from overstimulation, barely able to comprehend simple sentences as they're all just a blur in your mind. your hands are folded onto your face, tears and saliva sprawled everywhere messily on your face with your knee occasionally hitting your cheeks. every time you'd mumble about how it's 'too much' or 'you can't go for any more rounds', vox would shut you up with a harsh slap on your thigh before resuming on fucking your pretty hole with a chuckle.

he's tired, too, from round after round of ejaculation. it feels like he has nothing more to offer, but god are you unresistible. he craves more of his name spilling out as pretty noises from your lips, craves for the warmth of your velvet walls engulfing his sore erection, craves for another satisfying sight of him filling you up with his seed all the way to the brim.

his eyes light up as an idea pops into him, his fingers gripping tighter onto your legs. the tip of them light up a bright color of blue before vanishing suddenly, a sudden shock of small electricity piercing through your skin from his fingers. your body jolts at the sudden unfamiliar sensation, a different kind of noise slipping from your tongue. your eyes are wide, gaze that met his in confusion and pleasure.

vox grins at your reaction; he loves it. it's obvious that you did, too, feeling how tight you squeezed around him when you felt the sudden electricity shock send through your veins. he leans forward, only increasing his thrusts as he readies to send yet another wave of electricity through his fingers. he found a brand new way to toy with you, to draw out pretty noises that he always get drunk on.

"you like that, huh? squeezing around me like that, s' like you're begging for more my love."

ʚ VALENTINO .

lotus / heatwave position. he either likes to see you struggle to pleasure him properly or fuck you over the kitchen counter or any high tables he has in his office. he finds it hot to limit your movements, watching you helplessly take in anything and everything he has to offer. i used heatwave pos. here :3

“fuck, val, c-can’t we do this in- hngh, bed?” you groan in frustration before getting cut off by a moan, a hand gripping tightly onto his arm and another on the corner of the countertop. your leg was thrown over valentino’s shoulder when he lifted you onto the counter top, giving him a perfect display of you for himself. he gave you a breathy laugh before he replied teasingly. “this is fun, no? It feels better than the bed.”

out of all places, he chose to do it at the countertop, the place where you can barely move around to avoid falling off. he only chuckled everytime you complained and whined, shutting you up with a thrust of his fingers inside of you. 

toying with you like this has always been his favorite. he knows exactly what and where to reach in you just to make your legs tremble and body shudder in pleasure, soft moans of his name that spills as you plead for more. he carries on providing pleasure to you until he feels the gummy walls around his fingers tighten, signaling a close approach of climax; he remove his fingers completely from you and deny your orgasm.

he watches you whine, trying to pull his hand back as you tighten around nothing out of desperation. valentino watches with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning forward to bite on your earlobe while whispering. “hm, why don’t you tell me exactly why i should give you what you want?” he pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice sweet like honey cooing into your ear. “I’m waiting, carino~” 

you grunt, hating the cheekiness of his behavior yet desperate for a sweet release. giving in slightly, you glare at him with glistening eyes while running your mouth with sweet words in hopes of them being enough to convince him knowing how playful this man could get. he gazes down at you while holding your leg over his shoulder, lips grazing over your ankle as a ghosting kiss. he shows no response to your words, just doing whatever he was with half-lidded eyes.

just as you thought your attempt failed, you feel his sudden thrust into you, a spark of pain and pleasure shoots all the way to your head. your breath gets caught in your throat, a loud gasp leaving your lips, body freezing in place to adjust to the sudden stretch. valentino drinks in your reaction with a hungry gaze, earning a low grunt from him as he pulled his hips back slowly before thrusting forward again. excitement bubbles in his chest, his upper row of sharp teeth biting down on his lower lips.

he doesn’t waste another second on waiting and starts rolling his hips at a steady pace. he moans in great pleasure, both pairs of his arms hold you firmly to avoid you falling off. your face burns more than usual because of how exposed you feel being in this position, yet it also riles you up a whole lot. you already feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, begging to snap after multiple denies from your partner. 

valentino feels it, of course. instead of slowing down or completely moving himself, he increases the pace to the point where the tip of his cock is able to press on the sensitive spot inside of you. your chest heaves heavily with yet another gasp, gritting your teeth because of how much it triggers the coil in your stomach. your knuckles gradually turn white from how hard you’re gripping the demon, moaning at how close you are to your sweet release. 

everything came to a halt when he suddenly stopped his movements. he has denied your orgasm, again. you groan in frustration, hitting his chest with your fisted hands with a frown on your face. valentino snickers at your reaction, completely unfazed by your annoyance. he has all the time he needs to play with you, after all.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

#hazbin hotel x reader smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader

[helluvapoison]

I would love to see this- Lucifer is the strongest entity in Hell, and it turns him on like nothing else when his lover wrestles him for dominance. He will go straight up feral over that.

Lucifer Morningstar wrestling his S/O for dominance...

Headcanons + Drabble

warnings: nsfw, hints at degradation, mentions of blood, biting, scratching, power-dynamics, rough(er) love

words: 806

a/n: I had way too much fun with this- thanks for this lovely, unique ask, I hope I did it justice! It was a bit difficult for my pee brain to come up with things to write, but the people need to be fed; here is your feast

✡ It's hot, its rough, and it's primal

✡ Ideally, Lucifer never tended to like it when anyone challenged his authority, no matter what over

✡ But if you, his lover, did so, he had the benefits of being able to take you however he pleased after you get the chide out of your system (with consent of course), knowing damn well how much it riles him up

✡ When the two of you wrestle, its almost like two wild animals, fighting for a meal that could very well end up being your last before a harsh winter rolls in

✡ It doesn't take long for his demon form to make an appearance during your steamy game, allowing him a decent advantage over your regular strength capabilities; you often call him out for 'cheating', but seeing him in such a feral state turns you on like nothing else

✡ You can feel him getting hard the first few minutes of your rough-housing, telling you all you need to know about how much he really enjoys doing things like this with you. His deep, guttural groans are hard to ignore, his wings flaring up as they batter your body with feather-light touches

✡ His claws and fangs are really coming out now. His claws are dug deep into your skin, leaving light (yet effective) scratches on your skin, as he watches the blood well up on the line of the cut, proceeding to then lean down and let his forked tongue lick off the excess mess his claws left behind

✡ Bite marks will litter your body, blood complimenting those areas as well. The stinging sensation they leave can not go unnoticed and they only help add to the different emotions you are feeling in the current moment

✡ Having someone to challenge him, both mentally and physically, gets him going; its admirably hot how you continue to protest that you could take him down if you wanted to, and he likes seeing that smug, confident smirk of yours turn to one of pure pleasure and ecstasy as he proves you wrong, over and over again

✡ Knowing he holds the most power possible for a being in any hellish realm, makes it all the more fun when you try and downgrade that title, even if just in the slightest bit; it's your own little game you like to play with one another, a common game of cat and mouse, or rather, Devil and prey

✡ Lucifer is ravaging your body, fully claiming you this time, letting you know that there is no one but himself that can hold this power over you; it reminds you that he will always be in charge one way or another, no matter how much you question

✡ In the long run though, you both love these feral moments in your relationship, getting to express your shared love for one another even in such a strange, somewhat brutal way

✡ He loves fighting for his right to dominate you, and he never fails to claim it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The heavy panting and notable scent of sweat on the pair of your bodies seemed to go unnoticed, as the two of you were locked in both an intense staring contest, and a physical fight between your bodies; fingers were locked together, arms continually pushing at the other in an attempt to overthrow them. Your bare skin rubs against each other feverishly, his hard cock still buried deep within you from earlier.

"Do you really think you can overpower me in a battle for dominance, darling? I suggest you give in and just let your King take care of you."

His voice was smooth, soothing almost, aside from his heavy breaths filling your ears. He still sounded like an angel to you all the same.

A feral one.

The two of you had been at this now for a good half-n-hour, trying to secure your position as the dominant party in the sheets for the night, but Lucifer had you pinned underneath his own pale body at this point, using the enhanced strength from his demon form to keep you where you were.

The fight for dominance had been over just as soon as it had started; you both knew this from the beginning.

No matter if you were to be above or beneath him, he would always find a way to end out on top of it all, including yourself.

And by all the Gods, if that didn't make him even sexier in your eyes.

You would easily give yourself up to Lucifer whenever he wanted or needed you; there was no doubt about it and you both shared that same knowledge.

But maybe, if this is where challenging him for dominance got you, then you'd have to indulge in the action more often.

#hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader smut

[helluvapoison]

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you can do headcanons of what kinky/perv stuff that hazbin men (alastor, Lucifer, husk, Adam, val, etc) often do?

Plus I love your Adam fics!/headcanons

Have good day :3

・﹒・ perversions of the soul

Warnings: 18+, sexual scenarios, sexual comments

Pairings: [Separate] Lucifer, Adam, Val, Vox, and Saint Peter [Yall know I couldn't NOT include him, right?]

Notes: Hi, thank you for requesting! Because I don't write for Husk or Alastor won't include them, but I'll include the others! It's purely because I don't know how to write them in this way! I hope that's ok! :D

﹒Lucifer﹒

・He is a thighs man, he will stare at your thighs for hours if you let him. You've caught him so many times looking at your thighs and every time you lightly slap him on the shoulder because you know all he's thinking about is shoving his face in between them.

・He loves to whisper dirty nothings into your ear to make you flustered in public, he lives for your reactions and red face as you try to remain calm. Just seeing your reactions and you slowly growing horny is enough to make him hard alone.

・While that man can fuck good- he revels in giving oral sex to you whenever he can. He loves eating you out and sucking on you until you're cumming over and over again. He thinks you taste absolutely delicious and can't get enough of you. He's cum-drunk in all sense of the word.

﹒Adam﹒

・This man isn't as kinky as you would originally think- but still explores sexually occasionally. However, if you got boobs, he will never get enough of them, and will motorboat them even if Lute is around. If you got a dick, best be ready for random crotch feel-ups at any given moment. If you don't have either/or- he will grab and pinch your ass and even smack it until its red.

・He is big into you moaning, really big into it. It gets him off so easily, one little moan and he's at full mast. His main goal in bed is making you moan as loud as possible and when you do- well, expect to be getting a creampie.

・Loves fangirls/fanguys and if you love him in his band before even personally knowing him, one stop to being given a...private show. He lives to see you get excited for his band and looking down at you from his stage, gives him the biggest serotonin rush (and another kind of rush) that slowly builds up over the course of the night as he gets sweaty and out of breath.

・Valentino・

・Let's be real- what kinks doesn't this man have? There's many to chose from, but if I had to pick one- you being weak and powerless under him is one of his favorites. Watching you be completely at his disposal for any reason is a big yes to him.

・Degredation is another one, oh boy, he loves making you feel like shit at any chance possible. He will tell you that you're a whore, a dirty slut, only good for being fucked by him and him alone.

・He is possesive to the upmost degree and always makes sure to leave his marks all over you so others know that you are his. He always makes sure to parade you around the tower with you by his side so everyone knows not to fuck with you- messing with you or trying to fuck you.

・Semi-public sex is his go-to when he needs a quickie, he loves fucking you in spaces where anyone can walk in and see you two going at it. He doesn't care who sees his body, he thinks it's hot as fuck and makes him even harder inside you if he hears someone walking by.

﹒Vox﹒

・Biggest perv imaginable. Will watch you fuck yourself silly with toys even if he's just a room away. He never stops watching you, and I mean never. He always has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don't fuck anyone else like Val or some ramdon schmuck off the street.

・Just like Val- he is extremely possessive of what's his and makes it known. He doesn't display it publicly with you around as to not scare you off, but he makes sure every single person in the tower knows not to even touch you.

・He loves getting his dick sucked above everything else, he loves the feeling of your pretty little lips wrapped around his cock swallowing all his cum down your throat. He loves to see you cry as you try to fit it all down, enjoys wiping them away and telling you that you're doing a good job.

﹒Saint Peter﹒

・That man is as innocent as can be what kinks could be possibly have? Well, he has a dirty little secret- one day he discovered that he got hard seeing you with ice cream all over your mouth and imagined it was cum. Naughty I know! Ever since he has not been able to let that thought go and guiltily imagines you sucking on his...

・He always offers you ice cream just to watch you smother it all over your mouth as you eat it and he always acts nervous around you because he oh so badly wants to make his dirty fantasies real. But he can't just avoid you! You always ask why he likes ice cream so much and he simply says that it just tastes good.

・He also would never admit that just you showing attention to him can get him riled up since almost every person that had crossed the gate never payed much attention to him. So when you showed interest in getting to know him and eventually dating him- he was down bad and it makes him act up a little.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader smut #vox x reader #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #saint peter x reader

[helluvapoison]

PEGGING VAL???? sorry recently i’ve just really wanted to make this man cry. like he makes me want to be absolutely CRUEL and MERCILESS!!! just like giving him a taste of his own medicine would be fantastic idk 🤷‍♀️

SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG!! ive been in a writing slump 😭 but im obsessed with writing val! it’s hard but i like trying to figure out how to I wanna characterize the goober

smoke and mirrors

—valentino x f!reader (gendered nicknames like princess and etc, but other than that the reader’s gender is not mentioned)

—includes: overstimulation, crying, bondage, toys

valentino, one of the 3 vees. tall, flirtatious, intimidating, rude.

too rude, perhaps. sure, being a bitch is pretty much a given in hell, but val was way more than that.

he has heels on people’s backs, and claws through sinners’ hearts. sure, demons can regrow limbs and heal scars. but not ones on the soul.

and valentino was an expert at cutting deep.

there's a scar on every one of his employees’ thoughts, his presence unable to leave their minds like smoke stuck to cloth.

no matter how much one washes it, that scent always comes back.

you were his cigarette. he clings onto you, unrelenting as he asks you to stay longer. you usually roll your eyes and dismiss him, but sometimes, you return, letting him indulge in his obsession with you.

he breathes you in, wanting you stuck on his clothes, hoping you stay a little longer, and unable to let you go.

with how much he craves you, you have control. power. one he will let go of when the two of you are tangled in lust, falling onto plush bedsheets with you over him.

he needs you. and you take advantage of that wholeheartedly.

val didn’t complain when you took charge. quite the opposite, actually. your fingers were a fucking blessing amongst this hellscape, and he doesn’t care where they are as long as they’re on him.

but they unfortunately, they weren’t.

“come on, princesa,” his tone was sickly sweet at first. persuading, sensual. fake.

“fucking do something~!” there we go. his true feelings. his tone was getting higher the more impatient he got, sing-songy in a way as he tried not to full-on scream at you. he knew you’d get even more pissed if he did.

you click your tongue in disappointment before hitting his thigh swiftly, provoking a sharp gasp from val as he hisses in pain, but also pleasure.

he couldn’t see and he couldn’t move any of his arms. usually, he’d be into kinky shit like this, but he also likes to be somewhat in control. if he asks for something, he gets it. your average pillow princess behavior. but you want to show him he’s not royalty, and he shouldn’t expect to be treated like it when it was clear he was an impressively shit ruler. seriously, who kills someone else’s employee?

but, even with how much you wanted to take his control away from him, his legs stayed free since you wanted them to drape over your shoulders at some point during the night, but that was for later. you have other things on your hands.

like his waist, for example. thin and smooth, hot to the touch even though he’s supposed to be cold-blooded. he relaxes into your palms instantly, a smile donning his face around the gag as he feels your touch.

his back arches up as he twists himself in an admittedly stunning way in your hands, trying to make himself look as appealing as possible for you to ravage him as soon. but you know his tricks. you won’t fall for his attempts of seduction.

so instead of moving your hands down to his inner thighs how he likes it, you draw them away, eliciting almost a growl out of the man underneath you.

“you really need to work on being more patient,” you tell him, your finger running underneath his chin, making his head tilt up so you can see it better.

even though he was frowning at you, the crimson drool that slipped down his lips made him look too pathetic to be threatening. “you need to work on being faster, amorcita! really, how can someone be so fucking slow—!”

you interrupt his complaints by suddenly getting off the bed, making him stop in confusion and…slight fear. “where—where do you think you’re going!” he snarls, trying to cover his vulnerability with coats of anger.

“i’m leaving if you can’t behave,” you answer, no hint of remorse in your voice. it chills him to his very core, a wave of frost running over his burning body as he stills in panic. you can’t just leave, that’s not—people don’t do that—

but val knows that you will. you weren’t afraid of him. and he knows he won’t be able to make you either. he was too soft on you.

so as a last ditch attempt, he musters up his most suggestive voice, wiggling in his binds as he tries to make you come back with his allure. “oh, come on. i’m always good—wait wait!”

he hears your footsteps getting further, and his words fly out of his mouth without thought. “please, wait—i’ll fucking behave just—don’t…” he breathes in carefully, trying to talk slower. “don’t leave, babe. i… i’m sorry, okay?”

he looks around at nothing, and it stares back at him cruelly as he tries to see you through the blindfold, even if he knows it's pointless.

you know most of his words aren’t sincere, it’s all just out of frustration, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

a sigh of relief leaves him as he feels a dip on the mattress, your hands moving over his torso. a yelp flies out of val’s lips as you tug on the chain connected by the clamps on his chest, the pain both sharp yet pleasing.

“we’ll see about that.”

val didn’t realize how mad you must have been, because the past hour or so had only been torture. the blindfold was already drenched in tears, his chest was over-sensitive to the point that even a breath would make him jolt, and he hasn’t been able to cum once, even when your fingers have been drilling into him constantly and the vibrator against his tip never stopped tormenting him.

“ah—! ah, hah, please—! wa-wait!” he sobs, thrashing in his ropes as he cries, the vibrations getting faster now. your fingers press right against that spot he usually loves, but he can’t enjoy it to the fullest if his cock is so hard it practically hurts. what’s worse is that he couldn't even cum if he wanted to, the ring around it ruining any chance of easy gratification.

“i thought you said i was too slow?” you tease, pulling your fingers out with a loud pop.

“well you fixed that—FUCK! pretty fast—!” val wailed as you entered him abruptly, bottoming out without warning before setting a brutal pace, not giving him time to accustom to you at all. “fuckfuckfuck—! baby, please!”

all he can do is take it, and as you rip the blindfold off of him, you revel in his expression, which was exceptionally different from his usual cocky one.

tears ran down the path of previous dried ones, and his mouth couldn’t even close from all of his noises escaping any time they could. his signature red drool drips out of his mouth and swirls around his teeth. you take caution, knowing what will happen if you kiss him. you don’t want to indulge in him just yet.

he had to earn it.

and he was slowly getting the hang of it. his claws dug into his palms as he shook, the sound of shaky pleas and uncontrollable moans filling the room beautifully. it seemed like he was practically made to be fucked by you, unable to get enough.

even when he’s tired, he can’t help but rock his hips against yours as he begs for more, while also pleading for less. he couldn’t tell what he wanted, because he knew he loved getting fucked by you, but he also hated not being able to cum. it was the dilemma of the century!

“p-please…please—i—hic—i can’t…” his voice slowly starts to get softer as he starts to lose strength. he can’t hold up a facade anymore. he can’t pretend that he’s in control. that this was a gift all for him, because it clearly wasn’t. it was a cruel punishment, and it was served in the way he knows best.

“can’t what?” you question, your hands firm on his hips as you stop him from moving, eliciting a pathetic whine of frustration from val.

“can’t—i can’t wait anymore, please let—ha—let me cum! i’m begging you, baby—fuck—too fast!” those were words he thought he’d never say, considering how much he liked it rough.

which, showed even through his pleas. his eyes rolled back and his voice came around again, gracing you with delightful moans and cries that got louder and louder. it was quite clear this pleased him a lot. but, it was even more certain that this was too much, and for someone so addicted to sex, it was surprising to figure out his breaking point was so easy to find.

of course, it took a long time, but from how much game he boasts he has, it was almost laughable how pathetic he was right now. begging, sobbing, messy. you want to see more of this side of him.

“not yet, val,” you scold him, tugging on his nipple clamps like it was some sort of leash. it was a gentle pull, yet his sensitive self couldn’t help but shriek in response, his back arching into a wonderful crescent.

“i promise—i promise i’ll be good—i’m good i swear!” he whines, looking up at you with his watery eyes. “i won’t be rude to you everagainplease—!”

you know it's a lie. you know he believes it, at least at in this moment, conceding to whatever it is you desire just to get what he wants. his nice act won’t last forever. but for now, with him underneath you, unable to think, drowning in pleasure, suffocating on the desire for you…you decide it’s good enough to warrant a small reward.

“oh—FU—!”

“what do you say?”

“SHITshit—AH! th…hmm!” he trails off into a high-pitched whimper as he feels that ring finally fucking leave, letting him cum for the first time in what felt like years.

“val. what. do. you. say?” you hiss, and suddenly the stars he had started to see turned into warning signs in an instant.

“sorry—thank you! fuck, thank—ngh—!”

you nod in approval, moving your hand down his quivering chest with sudden gentleness. it almost made val want to cry even more, and he was too tired to think why.

yet, your sweetness suddenly stops with a rush of almost painful pleasure running up his spine as you start to thrust again, slow, yet quickly hastening into the frenzied pace from before.

val doesn’t even bother asking you to go slower, sinking into the pillowy smoke of lust once more without complaint as you drive into him relentlessly.

he loves it, the way your presence surrounds him, how your hands get so tight around his hips that they leave marks. everything you do, he loves. so, even as his tears line his eyes once more, and his mouth spews words of forgiveness, he can’t help but want more, for who was he if not with you?

even when morning comes and you two finish, he still yearns for you as he walks out that door in the afternoon, his assistant rushing over to his side as he makes his way to the studio that he knew wouldn’t be able to produce anything that rivaled your touch.

“i like your new perfume.”

“hm?” he looks down at his assistant, raising an eyebrow out of confusion before sniffing his coat. he can’t help but crack a small, uncharacteristic smile.

you seemed to have stuck on him like smoke.

”i do too.”

and he’ll never try to get rid of it.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist @luciferspetduck

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader smut #valentino x reader #valentino imagine

[helluvapoison]

Do you know the song, “no one wants a waist over 9 inches” part… I would luv to see Lucifer wearing the corset in your art. Please

BOOM!!! HERE YOU GO LOVELY! I decided to just do a lil animation of it >:) HOPE U ENJOY!! Sadly it looks all glitchy on my phone but hopefully it's better for y'all HSJDJSJ

#poiboirecs #hazbin hotel fanart #lucifer morningstar fanart

[helluvapoison]

Demon Barber | Lucifer X Reader

IT'S DONNNEEEE

FuCk i slaved away on this one but y'all wanted a novel, so here she is!

Content Warning: Smutsmutsmutsmut +18, a little bit of angst and fluff, and Lucifer and Reader being kind of shitty people

☆☆☆

Everybody knew how much of an icon Queen Lillith was. She immediately blew up any form of media when she started uplifting demonkind. As time went on and more sinners were sent to Hell, a ripple effect of styles and trends rang throughout the city. It was important to Lillith to stay up to date with them. She hated to admit it, but she couldn’t keep up. She decided to take the opportunity to bring a new face to her team. At that point, the Morningstar family had already hired a handful of imps to keep little things in line, but this was a position that needed the point of view of a sinner on the streets.

Lucky you, you were one of the first sinners to work personally with the most powerful couple in Hell! You weren't that different from anyone else, but you are a chronic people watcher. It was an important hobby that helped you keep up with what everyone was decorating themselves with. A perfect pair of eyes for adorning the most beautiful creatures in the realm in a modern fashion. You started your glamorous job a couple of thousands of years before the Hotel was built. Even with your immense age, you did a surprisingly good job at keeping an open mind and becoming knowledgeable in most cosmetic and costuming work. You managed to make it through every extermination and more in this career. The protection from being housed with royalty definitely had its benefits.

On your first day, you went through Lillith's already existing wardrobe, in awe at the quality and unique aesthetics that she had. Even with your praises on her gowns, she insisted she needed your knowledge of street style incorporated into her wardrobe. You definitely fit into the Pride ring of hell at that point. The queen of Hell needs your personal opinion on what she wears? That went straight to your head. You became the head of a team and were credited with dressing up Lillith in some of her most iconic outfits. It didn't exactly bring you any fame, you weren't advertised or really credited in any other form than writing. Sometimes, if Lillith was put in an outfit she really enjoyed and her makeup and hair lasted through an entire performance, she'd give a little shout-out. You didn't really mind, you loved doing what you did, and the sweet praises Lillith gave you sufficed your need for validation. It felt amazing to see her face plastered all over Pentagram City, and being able to say hey, I did that. The salary helped, too.

As time went on, you noticed how little Lucifer made public appearances. When he did they were exclusively with Lillith at his side. And of course, he looked.. He was definitely a handsome ruler, but he didn’t have a lot of variety in his wardrobe. And it wasn't exactly up to your or Lillith's standards. She would often suggest taking some styling tips from you, almost begging at times, but he would refuse every time. You did little things, steaming and restitching his wardrobe, doing some touch-up makeup for shoots, but his suit? It stayed the same almost every day.

One day, Lucifer suddenly had a change of heart. He looked disheartened but begrudgingly agreed to be dolled up for a shoot that was happening soon. You were almost as ecstatic as Lillith was, getting this chance.

"I want you to give it your all, dear. Maybe I can convince him to do some more in the future if all goes well..." She'd tell you in a hushed tone, the two of you standing in front of the double doors that led to your studio." Do what you do best!" She said cheerfully, her hand on the small of your back. She practically throws you into the room once it's open, leaving you alone with Lucifer. There was no music, none of your other artists had shown up yet, and the only thing you could hear was your breath shaking. You breathed in heavily, then put on your best customer service face as you exhaled. You played professionally at the beginning, but it's always easier having some personality and small talk when you're planning on being in close proximity to clients for so long.

"Your Majesty! I hope you're doing well today, I'm glad you decided to join us this time!" You spoke in your people-pleaser voice, trying to hide the nerves that suddenly washed over your body. "Why the change of heart?" You started questioning, in a desperate attempt to find some sense of small talk with the intimidating figure seated in front of you. As you spoke, you stepped in front of the vanity he was seated at, having to stretch by his crossed legs to lay out your supplies. "I'm doing fantastic. Obviously." He spoke in an aggravated tone. You sucked in your lips, unsure if you should laugh. Luckily he didn't need a response before answering your other question. "You've seen Lily, she can be quite convincing." He puffed out his chest in his seated position, insinuating something vulgar. Your eye twitched, trying your best to not let them roll.

That didn't stop your face from heating up, the image suddenly materializing in your head. You cleared your throat, turning your attention back to the array of makeup brushes and some colored powders you had picked out specifically for this shoot." She is a beauty, I agree." You felt the need to respond in some way before getting to work.

You loved doing your job. No matter who you worked on, you'd always focus on your technique before anything else, which helped calm you down while you delicately held Lucifer's jaw, twisting his head around to get a general idea of what you were working with. You examined a solid purple bruise that decorated his neck before he had the chance to stop you. "Oh! I just - ran into a doorknob. Yeeah.. I.. tripped." He rambled a pathetic excuse, learning away from your touch." Sure, let's go with that." You replied, finally rolling your eyes at his words. "But you said it yourself, the Queen is indeed quite convincing." You teased, twisting around and grabbing a brush. When you went to move behind his chair to start running a comb through his impossibly soft golden hair, you caught how red he had turned at your remark." Oh, it's okay, I'm just teasing. You know how long I've worked on Lillith, I've had to cover way worse." You added, genuinely thinking that would help calm him down. He let out a quiet groan of embarrassment, smacking his hand against his face.

It went silent for a while as you worked on his hair. You saw how it usually was put up, and you didn’t want to scare him with too drastic of a change, so you only added some subtle layers that left it a bit fluffier than normal. You’d stop every now and then, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking at your work in the mirror. He'd flinch at your touch each time, leaving you concerned at first, then just giving him a suck it up attitude for the rest of your session. You went on to do something that didn't need your full attention and looked over his shoulder to get a peek at his phone screen that he used as a buffer for the awkward silence. It displayed a little calendar, he swiped through each day mindlessly. "Looks like you have a packed schedule, huh? How's that been going?" He looked up and pulled his phone into his lap, a squint across his face. "It's fine, I'm handling it. It's my job after all, ya know. Important things." He didn't seem to want to get into too much detail, so you let out a nervous chuckle and agreed before immediately finding some music to play to cover your mistake. You were convinced he would fire you at that point. Or worse.

As you finished up, you viewed him from multiple angles, twisting him around in the chair. You leaned down a bit, your eyes at his level then reached both your hands out and took the pieces of hair that framed his face, curling them up a bit at his cheeks. You stepped back again and placed your hands on your hips, letting out a satisfied hum.

He definitely calmed down by the time his hair was done, leaving behind the crude jokes and little rude quips from before. Now onto the makeup. This was far more intimate, so you gave him a quick rundown as you rummaged through your things." Alright, you definitely don't need any makeup, since your skin is perfect, but there's a chance the cameras and the lighting could wash you out, so I'll just use a blurring effect with this pow - " you stopped talking when you saw his confusion." I'm.. I'm gonna doll you up. Basically.." You summarized it bluntly. It was clear to you how uncomfortable he was with being touched excessively, you did your best to accommodate. You applied some translucent powders to his skin, then brightened up the cute little red circles on his face, after mentally kicking yourself for thinking of them as cute. This is the king of Hell, knock it off. You cleaned up the heavy bags under his eyes, then noticed a tired purple hue to his eyelids. Going in with a lilac color, you emphasized them.

As you were gathering some other things, stepping back a bit, he turned his head to look at his appearance in the mirror. He was expecting some ridiculous and dramatic work, but he really just looked brighter. More alert, more alive. He shut one of his eyes to see the color you had added to his lids, "I.. like that.." He spoke quietly and sounded surprised as if he didn't want to admit that to you. You let out a little chuckle, the compliment completely going to your head, before passively scolding him for touching his face before you had finished. He let his hands fall back into his lap with a pout on his face. Adding any color to his eyes or lips required precision, so you were lifting up his face by his chin to do what you do best. You were honestly a little surprised about how well he handled the rest of the session. For someone who's refused any sort of cosmetics for literal centuries, he looked like he was enjoying the pampering.

You had only worked on Lillith before, and even if she was intimidatingly gorgeous, you adapted to being physically close to her. Going into a sort of auto-pilot mode, you held your breath, tracing out his best features. Pulling away to check on his full appearance again, you noticed that he seemed to be holding his breath as well. He finally let it out once you stepped away, his face already a little flushed. You didn't think too much about it, you were mainly annoyed that the composition of the makeup was being thrown off by this sudden blush.

"Well! Once wardrobe comes in, you'll be taken down to set. What do you think?" You stood behind his chair and spun him back around to face the mirror. He leaned in, making sure not to touch his face since you scolded him before. He moved his head around, even admiring the coverage of the hickey that Lillith so generously gifted him." Hm! I suppose this works. As long as Lillith likes it, that is." His voice wasn’t enthusiastic, but you recognized the satisfaction plastered across his face. He looked up to meet your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "She's right, you are good at what you do, I'll give you that." You gave a little nod and began to pack up your things. "I'm glad it's acceptable, your highness." You pulled up some finger quotes as you spoke the word acceptable. "You were really nice to work on actually, your hair looks great and your face is already near perfection, so I didn't need to do much. Plus, you sat very well." You spoke nonchalantly, compliments like that coming as second nature in this field.

You turned once more and bowed your head a bit before sending a smile his way. His eyes were wide, and it looked like he was struggling to stiffen a grin. He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his fist and looking to the side. "G-Good.. Glad you enjoyed the.. Uh - Enjoyed it.." His voice muffled behind his hand. You didn't overthink his nervous reaction since you were in a hurry to get Lillith ready next. "Oh, for sure! I hope I see you around more often! I'm sure the shoot will be great." You chimed in, finally dipping out of the room as a crowd of imps barged in, finishing up his look.

The rest of the day was spent getting Lillith ready for the shoot, which took considerably longer than Lucifer's preparations. The whole time you chatted with her about how Lucifer did, calling her out on the damned bruise that you had to cover up, and general catch-up that had become routine at this point. Once everything was up and moving, you floated around the set fixing up some small details on both Lillith and Lucifer's look when needed. And of course, the shots they got were fantastic. You couldn't stop yourself from admiring your work once the posters and advertisements were distributed.

That was the first time you worked with Lucifer. Not much changed after, you became a little more popular around the staff; getting complimented on how you dressed him and answered some silly questions about what he was like. You did see him around more often, and you’d make small talk. After a few weeks, while working on Lillith, she brought up another shoot that was proposed for a big event coming up. "And get this! Lucifer asked me to put him in the shoot!" She was absolutely giddy to tell you the news. "Well, of course, he wants to be in the shoot, it's because I prettied him up so well!" You bragged in a joking tone, making Lillith let out a sultry chuckle. She placed her hand over yours, a sincere smile across her already-painted lips. "Thank you, dear. He needs the pampering sometimes." You blushed at the sudden contact and grinned in response.

---

Lucifer did in fact join that shoot. The process was about the same, but he seemed to engage in conversation more and asked more questions about what you were doing at each step. It warmed your heart to talk about your passions, you were unknowingly gushing about your interests every time he asked.

As the years went on, he joined more and more shoots, accompanied Lillith to more public appearances, and generally just wanted your opinions on his looks more often. It didn't take long for you two to become close. He'd ask for help on outfits, sometimes becoming a nervous wreck about what to wear on dates. With his wife. It was adorable the way he worried about how he looked after being with Lillith for so long and essentially running a new world together. He seemed to really enjoy having his hair and makeup done, occasionally making a fuss if you weren't the one to do it. You would scold him, talking about how he's wasting your time, and that you trained each of your stylists, so he has to trust them. He pouted the whole time.

Being around the power couple of the century unfortunately had its flaws. Like having to witness its downfall. Both of them became quieter a decade or two before Lillith's disappearance. Any time you'd try and tell a funny story about Lucifer to Lillith, she would change the topic almost immediately. On the opposite end, Lucifer wasn't supplying you with the same amount of jokes and puns as usual and reverted back to flinching at your touch. You couldn't ask about what was going on, that'd be rude.. Right?

"You know, Lillith was just talking about some sort of Gala for the Sins, are you going with her?" You had some hidden intentions by bringing this up while you were fixing Lucifer up for his day. "A Gala, huh? Haven't heard anything about that, so - I guess not!" He blurted out, clearly irritated. Shit. " Are.. Are you okay? Is something going on?" You leaned against the back of the vanity, stopping what you were doing to give him your full attention." Well, if you want to talk about it, that is.. Aaand as long as I won't get in trouble by asking." You shrugged and crossed your arms over your chest. That happened once or twice, but it was for little things; spoiling an anniversary gift one time, or accidentally getting an imp fired when you were venting about workplace struggles. "Yeah, of course it's okay! We're fine. It's fine. I'm fine! Stop asking so many questions!" He got increasingly aggressive as he spoke, you threw your hands up, stepping away and returning to the back of his chair. "Okay, okay! I believe you, jeez!" You responded to it as a joke, hoping you could recover.

You didn't talk about it after that, lifting his mood a bit by asking about his projects and other little things. As you finished up his hair, you noticed him closing his eyes and leaning his head into your hands as you ran your fingers through his hair to coat it with some kind of styling product. He'd fallen asleep in the past, so you didn't worry about it too much. You went on to work on his makeup. He asked you recently if you wouldn’t mind coming up with a more subtle everyday look for him. Apparently he just really liked your work. Or, he needed the pampering. Either way, you couldn't refuse.

He was loving the treatment today. He would hum every time you used your thumb to brush a speck off his cheek, and would start leaning forward when you stopped touching him. You pushed him back by his chest mindlessly, just needing him to sit back in his chair.

You then started to apply makeup to his eyes. Covering the bags underneath them became increasingly difficult throughout the years. You pulled him in like usual, your hand lightly leading his head up towards your face. When you paused at some point to evaluate whatever you were doing, he suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours, then flashing a quick peak at your bust that had been accentuated by your stance. He leaned back, a nervous look on his face.

"Um, hello?? I was kind of in the middle of something! That’s it. Tell me what’s wrong." You scoffed, confusion and irritation plastered across your face. He quickly dismissed it, letting you work again. He could feel your shallow breathing fan across his face as you went on. His breath was picking up, heart rate elevating as you kept this proximity. The leather on the armrests of his chair squeaked as he gripped his claws into the fabric.

After a while, you silently leaned back, only now noticing him falling apart. He leaned in slightly, dropping his jaw to let out a shaky breath. He would've hit your face if you hadn't stepped away. Possibly even met your lips.

"Uh – Your higness..?" You were oblivious, so you decided to question this behavior. He popped his eyes open and immediately leaned back into his chair." A-Are you done yet?" He squeaked out, examining the damage he had done to your chair with a nervous chuckle. "I'll uh.. I'll get you a new chair." He muttered, before looking into the mirror for just a moment. "Looks good to me! Excellent job as usual, my dear, I better get going, I have a meeting to get to so – " You watched in silent confusion, seeing him squirming and screwing up his words. He quickly stood up, not assessing how close he would be to you and how close your back was to the vanity. You stumbled backward, placing your hands on the vanity to keep yourself from falling any farther, and acting as a buffer between the counter and Lucifer. He tripped over your stumbling feet, his flailing arms landing beside yours. You were effectively trapped, his knee had bent between your legs while trying to find his balance.

A moment of silence. All you heard was the beating of your heart ringing in your ears. He looked down at you in a way that clouded your judgment. Neither of you said anything, but you fluttered your eyes shut subconsciously. He did the same, then cocked his head to the side and slowly lean into your face. He roped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward a bit, but not quite flush to his chest. Yet. You felt his shaky breath fanning over your lips, before snapping back into reality. "No! Nope - " You quickly broke free of his arms and began cleaning up your things, avoiding his gaze as it followed you frantically getting your things together. "You have a meeting, right? I just finished up, so you should be all good now! I'll just – I-I'll see you around! Have a good day, sir!" You quickly left the room, not letting him get a single word in. He reached out to you as you left as if that would suddenly draw you back towards him, but of course, it did nothing. "Well, shit." He let out bluntly, waiting for a moment in your own studio before b-lining it back to his office.

What the fuck was that?

You avoided Lucifer after the incident, and he seemed to respect that. He let one of your stylists do his daily pampering, knowing that stopping that routine would cause too much suspicion. He didn't enjoy it as much, but stopping altogether would make Lillith ask about it. Fuck. Lillith. A flood of emotions wash over you. In reality, you were closer to Lillith than her husband. You two gossiped and chatted on the daily. It was a struggle to face her after this, but what choice did you have? 

She was completely silent during her last few sessions, so you drowned out your guilty thoughts with music. She disappeared a few years after that. You absolutely panicked. So did many of the staff members, but your sole concern was if it was your fault. You were quick to find Lucifer after the announcement was made, only to see him in your studio, running his hands across the rack of gowns that Lillith had left. "Lucifer. What happened? Where did she go? What did she say?" You rambled approaching him, but being careful not to get too close. "She didn't say anything. She left a half-assed note, and she's just.. Gone." He pulled a dress into his arms and gripped it tightly before letting it drop to the floor. He let out a vicious roar, throwing the rack to the side." How could she do this?! What about the kingdom? What about Charlie? Dammit.. What did I do?? We slept next to each other that night.. The same night she left… I-I could’ve stopped her, I should've - She just disappeared..!" He rambled on, quickly unraveling in front of you. You watched his tail and horns start to form, and you hesitantly gripped his shoulder. He finally stopped, taking a deep breath before turning to face you. He hadn't looked into your eyes since..

His horns shrunk back into his temples before he let his head fall onto your shoulder. You almost stepped away, but.. He needed this. And you needed answers. "Sir.. Was it because.. Did she leave because of me..?" You spoke softly, your breath a cool sensation against his heated skin. He quickly shot up, planting his hands on your shoulders and looking at you with a stern expression. "No! No, I promise it wasn't your fault. Fuck, none of that was your fault. She.. I-I'm not sure why she left, but that's not your burden to bear." He spoke calmly, a stark contrast to the raging mess he just displayed moments ago. 

You two stood there for a while, his hands drifted down to hold your arms. What was he supposed to do now? He looked around the room for some kind of answer. Before he could realize what was happening, he was pulled into a tight embrace, his head just barely reaching the top of your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay.. I’ll be here, Lucifer. No matter what." It felt.. weird for a moment. This was the first time you'd gotten close to him this way. And actually, the first time you'd said his name without any sort of title. He let out another exhausted sigh, his hands snaking around your back and accepting the much-needed affection. As his head pressed against your collarbone, you stood there until he decided he’d had enough. You were there for a while.

It wasn't Lucifer's fault, but after that, you didn’t work much. There really wasn't a lot to do, without someone pushing public appearances and emphasizing the importance of image, you generally just mended and fixed up the staff's uniforms and Lucifer’s wardrobe. You were technically a stylist, but you've been doing this long enough that you could handle these jobs entirely by yourself. Actually, you did handle the job by yourself. Lucifer fired or sent most of the previously employed stylists away, along with most of the staff. About five years into Lillith's disappearance, the place had widdled down to a handful of workers. Some in the kitchen, basic housekeeping, a noisy secretary to answer some calls, and you. You started to question why he kept you around. You hated to admit that you still blamed yourself for Lillith leaving, but why else would she suddenly disappear? She was cold to you as soon as you kissed – almost kissed – Lucifer that day. You tried your hardest to avoid that thought process since you stuck around the mansion.

You were surprised to find out that Lucifer accepted an invitation to be on the cover of a magazine for Helluva Times. He hadn't needed makeup or hair done since Lillith left, and in reality, you barely saw him around. You were ashamed about how excited you were to see him again. Of course, it won't be the same as before, but you were looking forward to it nonetheless. You were taken to the studio where the shoot was being held since the one in the mansion was turned into more of a workspace for mending clothing. The studio was brightly lit and bustled with imps and some stylish sinners doing their part. You wondered if It was always like this, or if it was just because of Lucifer. You approached the vanity, the king of Hell seated in a movie set chair, with a golden star on the back, his name embroidered to the center. You were stopped in your tracks when you saw the dark circles that surrounded his eyes. Jesus, he was exhausted. You weren’t exactly surprised, more like distressed. Now that you think about it, Lillith really did a lot of heavy lifting when it came to keeping Hell in line.

"Your Highness." You gave him a little smile and nodded your head, beginning to display your usual setup on the vanity in front of him. "Heyyy! You..! Good to see you, Ahha.. ha.. h-how've you been..? How's... work been..?" He put on a fake smile and propped his head on his hand in a sad attempt to act casual. He switched to crossing his arms, unable to sit still and make eye contact with you at the same time. You didn't know how to react. The last time he was this nervous, he ended up pinning you to a table with his arms around you. You quickly got to work, trying to get the image of that day out of your head.

You go to comb his hair, recognizing that it's been a while since he let anyone tend to it; it was nearly grown to the bottom of his neck and wasn't exactly the cleanest. "Do you have wrinkle-free, clean, clothes every day?" You asked in response to his nervous ramblings from earlier. He nodded slowly," Then work is fine." You picked up on the sudden attitude you had, and it even surprised you. He quickly shut his mouth and started to spin the wedding band on his finger as a nervous fidget.

You had to put some effort in since he wasn't getting the same attention he used to. You gave his golden locks some much-needed attention, running a number of products through them and taking the time to restore it to its usual length. You found yourself peaking at his face every now and then, which he didn't notice. He was too indulgent to even keep his eyes open. You tried to stop yourself from looking at his relaxed expression, but you found yourself turning away only when he opened his eyes. You checked the clock, you definitely had some time for a more thorough session. You dug your fingers just a bit deeper into his hair, lightly running your nails across his scalp. In several swirling motions, you had him melting in your hands. You had to stop every now and then and push his head back up after it lulled to the side. It usually kept him alert for a moment, but it never lasted long. He let out a subtle hum every now and then, making you bite your lip in some attempt to keep whatever you were feeling at bay.

After you finished your little massage, you quickly finished up his hair, giving him a very-needed trim and styling it to its usual glory. You instinctively placed your hands on his shoulders once you finished and leaned in a bit to look at the results.

"So? What do you think? You needed a haircut, sir, you should… keep in touch.. If you need me, I'm here." A grin grew on your face and he couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of your smiling face. He turned his head to the left and the right, reaching up to touch his face delicately. He was less worried about messing it up and more worried about you scolding him for it. He let out a little huff and he opened his mouth, with no words coming out. It took him a moment." It's great, but uhh.. Could you do the – " He spun his fingers around his cheeks," you know, the.. Little loopy.. Bits..?"

God, what a cutie.

You let out a little chuckle and nodded, turning his chair to face you." My bad, how could I forget the loopy bits?" You teased, reaching out to either side of his head. Your hands lulled over his cheeks for some reason you wouldn’t explain. Finally, you untucked the bits of hair from behind his ears, pulling them forward and twirling them with your fingers. You placed your hands on your hips, still bent to be at his eye level.

"There. Ready for makeup, Lucifer?" Your words didn't come naturally, it took you a few seconds to debate whether or not to call him by his name. With his voice cracking in an attempt to respond, he just nodded, attempting to keep some dignity intact. You did your best to act professional, despite his lovely reactions. You started as you usually did, applying an easy base and highlighting his rosy cheeks. You never needed to do much to his face, and even after all this time, you still didn’t need to. Must be his angelic abilities, that his skin never really changes. You shrugged off the thought, getting ready to focus on his eyes. Instead of keeping his chin up, you took a light hold of his jaw, your fingers grazing his neck and your thumb placed dangerously close to the side of his lips. You both reacted to this new method, but you quickly went to work to prevent any more eye contact.

You took your time and it was clear neither of you cared to bring it up. He was past his call time, but when some poor stylist working for the news team came in to get him, Lucifer used his threatening status to give you both more time. After you finished covering the dark rings surrounding his eyes and prettying them up a bit, you mirrored your other hand and essentially cupped his cheeks. You did your best to make it look like it was for work purposes, but damn you were enjoying this. Such a beautiful creature in the palm of your hands, looking away because he was too embarrassed to meet your eyes." Look forward, please?" You spoke softly, lightly tapping his cheek to get him to follow your commands. He let out a huff, then finally prepared himself to look into your eyes. The noisy workers coming in and out of the room suddenly disappeared, the room going silent. He had your complete focus, and suddenly there was nothing more important than gazing into his red eyes. His hand moved to your wrist, holding one of your hands in place while he pressed his cheek against your palm. What a sight. You leaned in, not knowing what would happen, but also not really caring. Any chance to get close to –

"Alright your Highness, we're gonna need you on set in five." The harsh sounds of the room suddenly returned, a Hellhound making a more stern request to get this shoot over with. You quickly stood straight, taking up a brush and fixing up the small smudges you had created by holding him. "Rrright! Yup, pretty sure we're almost done, sooo... I'll be right there..! Thanks." He clenched his pointed teeth, as he thanked the brute, who walked off with a scoff. "Good golly – I'm their king! What gives that mutt the right to – " He stopped his rambling once he saw your sheer embarrassment. He took it as a sign that he went too far, that just maybe, he read you wrong.

He turned his head, looking back to his reflection and tracing his little curls with his fingers before letting out a satisfied hum. "Great work as always, my dear." He stood from the chair, stretching his stiff legs with a groan." I should uhm – I'm gonna get going, I have to.. Do the.. Thing – with the thing.." He walked backward towards the exit, pointing over his shoulder. "You mean go to set and get the shots? Hope everything goes okay, sir." You chuckled, going back to cleaning some things up. "Okay, well – oh! Thank you! Right, forgot that part. So, thanks..!" He just kept talking. Like he might never see you again once he left the room. "My pleasure, Lucifer." You hummed, still attending to your tasks. Oh, you should’ve seen the winded look on his face. He let out a wheezing chuckle, tripped over himself, then finally left the studio.

Once all your things were neatly tucked away, you were invited to the shoot. They had an extensive team of people behind the scenes, so you got the chance to just observe the process. They had him run through a number of poses, some regal, some more.. Provocative. Just for fun, they said. It made you cringe, it definitely wasn't his style. Finally deciding on a composition, he had his arms crossed over his chest, and he rested his thumb just below his chin, drawing your eye to his devilish smirk. How could someone who's been hurt as badly as he has, smile for the cover of a magazine?

You made some mental notes on his makeup and his hair, which they squished down with a comically oversized tophat. Trying to keep your mind purely professional became increasingly difficult when he kept looking over at you, his smile twitching every time. He must be tired. That’s clearly why he's acting this way.

"All right, we got it! Wrap it up, people!" An aggressive shout took you away from your phone screen, and you looked around at the rush of workers. You tried to catch anyone's attention to see if you could help with anything, but you never got anyone's attention. It was definitely a change of pace from your past experience, considering you were the lead on a team that really only dressed two people, even if they were royalty. By the time you got back to the studio, it was basically cleaned out, other than your little cart with all the supplies you brought from home. You assumed you were good to go straight home and find something to do other than feeling up the king of Hell; speak of the devil!

"Oh! I.. didn't know you were still here, I thought you left..?" A soft, and mildly raspy, voice came from the door, making you catch Lucifer's eyes in the reflection of the vanity you stood in front of. "No, I was enjoying the show." You leaned against the tabletop after turning to face him, a little smirk on your face. "You did good, by the way. The shots came out really well." You pulled up some of the shots that the company sent to your phone. "These are some very handsome photos.. You're welcome, by the way." You were gloating. He had walked forward to get a better look at your phone screen, squinting his eyes like he needed glasses, despite it being impossible for him to have poor vision. He scoffed at your comment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well don't let it go straight to your head, dear, you didn't do all the work. I'm just naturally gorgeous, right? You used to say that all the time." He nodded his head to either side as he spoke like he was winning some argument.

"Well, I meant it and it's still true. So, don't let that get to your head." You responded like you were trying to one-up him. He immediately turned red. He can shoot his shots, but deflates at any quick or clever rebuttals." W-Well! I'll try not to.. T-thanks for being here. Not like, here, but like – helping with the shoot, and doing meee – my hair! Love my hair, came out great." Good job, Lucifer. You startled him by running your hands through his locks, attempting to fix up the mess they made by putting a heavy hat on him." Ugh, they ruined it.. It should be an easy fix, I guess... that stupid hat." You grumbled, running your hands along the sides of his head to smooth it out. He was biting his lip when you sent him a quick look." I-I like the hat..." He said weakly. You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, beginning to pull your hands away. Clawed hands took hold of your wrists, keeping them hovered on either side of his face. "You said... that you'd be there for me no matter what. Do you remember that..?" He relaxed his face, but his hands were shaking just a bit. You nodded slowly.” Well, I’m - I appreciate that.. And you.. I-I appreciate you..”

“If you still.. I don't know, it's been a few years since – but if you still wanted to.. Ugh, dammit..! I don't know how to – " He stuttered over his words, becoming visibly upset, something stopping him from speaking coherently. You couldn't assume he was talking about the little incident from years ago, but if it was still on your mind after all that time, maybe it was still on his. He stepped forward just a bit, his grasp still lightly holding your wrists, keeping him close to you. Waiting for you to respond to a question he never really asked, he gulped, then let out a breathy, fuck it. In one fell swoop, he released your hands and immediately pulled you into a tight embrace. This wasn't like before, this wasn't to console him. His hands were wrapped around your back and cradled the base of your neck, leaving no space between the two of you.

Your entire body tensed, the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in was knocked out of you, and your arms were stuck with your hands pressed against his chest. He loosened his grasp as soon as he held you, but never actually let you go. His head had sunk into your shoulder, trying to hide some kind of adorable expression, you were sure. You had the opportunity to push him away, nothing was truly keeping you there. Physically, at least.

As you stood still, deciding what your next move would be, you'd feel him adjusting his head and turning it to plant his cheek on your collarbone, his breath hot against your chest. You knew he had to feel how hard and fast your heart was beating with how he was nuzzling into you. Focusing on one thing at a time, you tugged your arm out of his hold and lifted his face upwards, at least preventing him from being too close to your rapid heart rate. The next problem was your noses almost touching due to how close you were. His eyes were wide, full of some sort of desperation or fear, and a little bit of excitement. Your fingers still lightly hovered under his chin, and you could feel his pulse. Just as fast as yours, maybe even faster.

You felt him gulp, his face now heating up. Maybe the look in your eyes was too much for him to handle. You looked at the vanity that was just a few feet away. That should make him understand. Taking small steps backwards, which he didn’t understand, but also didn’t question, you kept moving until you felt the table hit your back. You leaned back slowly, forcing him to brace himself against the table to keep his balance. His eyes darted around as it clicked finally. You had put yourself in the same position that you were in years ago. His hands caged you in, and his knee sat between your legs for stability. You remembered it so clearly, you had no trouble bringing the two of you right back to where you left off. You took one of his arms and guided it to support you by the small of your back, then snaked your arms around his shoulders. Then, you closed your eyes and just waited. Just sitting there, anticipation bubbling in your stomach.

Before you knew it, he had softly pressed his lips against yours. You jumped at first, startled by something you were waiting so patiently for. You felt his lips pull away in response, but you were quick to pull his shoulders in, closing the gap again. He let out a little cry against your lips, as you pulled him even closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. He kept one hand at your back and sent the other to your outer thigh, slightly lifting your leg to sit against his hip. With a more secure hold on you, he leaned forward further, until you felt the back of your head hit the mirror with a light thump. "Mmph! Are you okay?" He pulled away for a moment to ask, which only upset you even more. You looked at him as if the answer was obvious, and fisted the collar of his shirt, pulling your lips back together. Clearly, you were fine.

Becoming intoxicated by your lips, he practically begged for a more intimate kiss. He placed a hand on your chin, pulling your mouth ajar with his thumb and quickly entering his tongue in your mouth. The sudden motion left you muttering incoherent praises onto his lips. He pulled away, leaving you in a daze. Once you regained your focus, you were able to reassess your situation. You had slid down the entirety of the vanity, your back fully against the cold material of the counter. One of his hands were propping himself up directly above you, the other still holding your leg, and keeping you from moving away as he pulled you impossibly closer. While letting you catch your breath, he sent a few kisses down your jaw and neck, making you grip his shoulders and hold your breath. He pulled himself away after pressing another quick peck on your lips. "Hey. Breathe. I'll take care of you, don't worry - " How dare he. How could he act so flustered when you did his hair and applied his makeup for literal centuries, then tell you to calm down? You scoffed and smashed your lips back against his, mainly to shut him up, but he wasn’t complaining.

He let out a little yelp against your lips, struggling to keep up with your sudden change of pace. Running your hands through his hair, ruining all the hard work you put into it, you lightly tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. A shakey sigh met your lips, as you took control of the situation, taking the opportunity to explore his mouth with your own tongue.

After this went on for what felt like forever, which you didn’t really mind, you pulled away to breathe. Looking up to him, your eyes explored the lipstick that messily covered his lips. You tipped his head upward by his chin forcing him to look at himself in the vanity's mirror. He let out a pathetic little wheeze, looking back down at you with a suddenly confident smirk." Beautiful work as always, my dear." He spoke flirtatiously, "You missed a spot, though." Dipping his head back downwards and indulging in your warm presence for as long as he could.

You were clawing at his back, untucking his shirt as you struggled to keep a hold of him. Both your legs had spread, making your hips flush against his. He kept you close, as he nipped and kissed across your collarbone, his sharp teeth grazing your skin without hesitation.

Sucking on the softest part of your neck, you let out a breathy moan and arched your back into his chest. The sudden motion sent friction to his lower half, making him release his teeth and suddenly bolt upwards. The reaction made you nervous, "I-I don't - I haven't.. It's been… Awhile.." He stammered out, putting an emphasis on the word awhile." I know, It's okay." He winced at your nonchalant remark, remembering how often you witnessed his last relationship essentially fall apart, as you went back to kissing his neck. He gently pulled himself away. "Nono, it's been awhile- awhile… I hadn't been close with.. anyone… for a couple.. Decades..?" He spoke nervously like he was embarrassed to admit it. You sat up for a moment, making him question whether or not he should've said anything." But.. It's only been five years, right?" You weren't sure if this was the best time to be getting into this, but these are answers you’ve been wanting for years.

"I don't know what happened, sweetheart, but we lost what we had long before any of this. I'm sorry if you thought.. I can't have you take on that burden.. Okay?" He cupped your face, shifting to a more tender approach. You tried piecing things together in your mind, which was still cloudy from the past few hours. Of course, that still doesn’t make what you two did right. Of course, you blamed yourself after all this time. He pulled you out of your thoughts, by tucking a bit of hair behind your ear and keeping his tender hold on your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile and nuzzle your face into his hand.

"We can stop if you want, love." Oh how you wanted to say stop. To say that you were terrible people for even feeling this way after all this time, while he was with his wife. Who also happened to be your employer. How scandalous. "No, I want this." You said without a hint of hesitation in your voice. It shocked him a bit, but he didn’t have much time to react before you leaned forward, unbuttoning his coat and pushing it off his shoulders. You pulled him in by his collar again, continuing to remove his vest, then opening his shirt, letting it hang open loosely, his white skin just barely peeking out. He shrugged comically, before going back to working on your neck, pulling at the hem of your blouse that had already fallen to your shoulders.

He ran his hands along your curves, eliciting a shiver down your spine. You reached your hands into his open shirt, your warm hands trailing across his even warmer chest. Your physical pleasure was subdued for a moment, absolutely in awe. "You have beautiful skin, Lucifer." Your voice was breathy, he lulled his head to the side, melting at your words and intimate touch. After a moment he let out a sweet chuckle and shrugged his top completely off. "So I've been told." Implying your constant praises from before, he puffed his chest out.

Oh, he was loving this. You sat up, your legs just at the edge of the countertop as you arched your back into him, closing the gap between your hips. You started by pressing a little kiss on his cheek, his face heating up even after all he's done to you. You then, moved your way down to work your lips across his neck and collarbone. Gently tracing his spine with one hand the other traveled downward as you pulled his hips into yours. Messaging his hip and continuously running your fingers along the center of his back, you sent him into sensory overload. You weren't surprised by the sudden bulge you felt hitting your center, in fact, you reveled how that confirmed you were doing a good job. You began sucking and biting on the skin, stopping to let out breathy mewls into his ear. The massaging of his hip turned into you pulling him in, then pushing him away slightly, only to viciously repeat the motion, forcing him to start grinding against you. Your hand on his back continued to trail up and down his spine, only you started to drag your nails across his skin as well, digging in a bit harder whenever you heard his voice hitch. You let your fingers slip into his pants every now and then, the cool sensation of your hands making him let out a little whimper.

"Your skin really is perfect, Lucifer. You are entirely beautiful. You're absolutely stunning, my king." You hummed into his ear, your skilled hands continuing to drive him crazy. He could barely keep up, his head falling back whenever you'd reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "K-Kiss me.." You heard him almost whisper, making you pull back for a moment to assess his stature. He had his hands on your hips, to keep you close, but also to keep him standing on his swaying feet. "I-I need you to.. kiss me.. Please.." He spoke in choppy sentences, he was too lost in his own pleasure to keep his head up, so you kept it forward by cradling the back of his head. When his head would start to droop too far forward, you gave his hair a light tug to remind him where he was. Did he need permission? You enjoyed the 180 he had made from the flirtatious tease just moments ago, humming in thought and tapping your chin like you were still deciding. Like you were considering not kissing him as passionately as he could handle.

He was lightly grinding his hard-on into you but still seemed patient enough to wait for your answer. "Well.. Since you said please." You finally said after far too long. He let out a sigh of relief as you inched towards him. You left your lips just over his, only letting him feel your heated breath against his lips. He shifted his stance but never moved towards you. You brushed your lips against his, not locking them together, just barely grazing them. He let out an impatient groan, his eyes clenched shut as you teased him so cruelly. Who knew this is what would bring tears to his eyes? You ran your hands up his chest, then dug your nails into him as you went back down. You finally met his lips, deciding he had enough after you wiped away a tear from his watering eyes. You don't know how he still managed to keep the kiss so tender after acting so desperate beforehand. You continuously wiped the tears off his face, keeping your hands on his face and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. As you pulled away, he followed your lips, disappointed in the sudden disconnect. He took the silence and the look on your face as a sign, that he needs to tell you what he wants.

He dropped to his knees, the warmth you had sitting between your legs was hit with the cool air of the room as he did. He kept his hands off of you and himself but fiddled with his thumbs to keep them busy in some way. He took in a deep breath, before speaking quickly," Can I taste you?" His voice was embarrassingly loud like he was just waiting and waiting to finally say it. It sort of shocked you, you assumed he’d be nervous after admitting he hadn't done this in a while. You pulled your legs together, finally feeling how wet you were becoming, but needing to commit to the bit. You crossed your ankles to furth prevent access. "I suppose so.. But what do you saay?" you reached down and tapped the tip of his nose, as you dragged out your words like you were speaking to a child. "Please..! I need to touch you, please.." He quickly replied, with no hesitation at all. "Good boy." That was it for you.

You realized you sealed your fate, as you felt him take a hold on your knees and pull them back apart gently. He moved forward until he could rest his head on your plush thigh, which he did for a while. He lifted your skirt up to your waist, then took a moment to appreciate the view. You were finally becoming a bit embarrassed, attempting to close your legs instinctively, but he pushed your legs farther apart, keeping a tight hold onto your thighs. When he looked up at you, his eyes were wide and innocent, as if he wasn’t keeping your legs apart and wiggling his hips to give some much-needed friction to his own growing problems.

He blinked, then looked back down, trailing his clawed finger across your wet underwear. You covered the sounds you were making with the back of your hand, still struggling to keep your legs open for him. He bent his finger and pressed it deeply into your still-clothed entrance. The sensation of the fabric digging into you made you groan, but that didn’t affect him at all. He licked his lips and began gathering spit in his mouth and he pushed your legs back in place, keeping them apart this time. Running his forked tongue across your panties, you squirmed under his touch. As he lapped at the fabric, the heat from his breath and the wetness he was coating you with caused you to fall back onto your forearms. "L-Lucifer - " You said weakly, quickly drawing his attention. "This is cruel." You pouted, continuing to let out a little whimper as he kept running two of his fingers across your underwear.

He cocked his head to the side as if he didn’t understand the damage he was doing. He was playing dumb." Oh? I'm sorry, love, how should I touch you then?" He was way too calm for your liking. He let one of his fingers just graze the hem, only touching a bit of your skin. You let out an annoyed groan, and move your underwear to the side, guiding the tip of his finger to your entrance. With your hand holding his wrist, you pushed his fingers inside of you, a strange sensation to say the least. It was embarrassing. He noticed your discomfort and finally dropped the act, sending you a sweet smile and kissing your thigh before starting to pump his fingers inside of you.

You let out a sultry moan, a mixture of relief and pure pleasure finally hitting you as you felt him add another finger without any real warning. You lulled your head back, not able to see his absolute focus on matching the rhythm of his fingers to the circling of your clit. Before you could fully comprehend, he pulled his hands away and back onto your thighs, delving into your center with a heated, open-mouthed kiss. Letting out a gasp, he delved into your folds, his tongue easily slipping from your entrance and back up to your clit. He lifted a hand to continue to slowly rub his thumb in small circles, so he could focus his tongue on thrusting in and out of your entreance with ease.

He showed no sign of faltering as you bucked into his face, desperate for more of him. Your hands moved to his hair, taking a tight hold as he hit right where he was supposed to. He scrunched his face, letting out a low growl as you yanked at his scalp, the vibrations startling you in a wonderful way. He only sped up when you started to babble about being close, letting your thighs tighten around his face as you finish into his lips. He continues his rapid pace, the adrenaline from being squeezed by your shaky legs taking over. You finally pulled his head away from you after the pleasure of overstimulation started to ache in your core. You sunk backward, your body twitching on occasion.

He planted a kiss on your thigh before rising back to his feet. He leaned into you, the fabric over his groin coated in your juices the longer he pressed in. He pecked your temple, looking at you, completely unphased." Too much? How did I do..?" He seemed genuinely interested in whether or not he did a good job." Y-you did.. Great.. It was g-good.. Felt good.." You gave a pathetic thumbs up as you caught your breath." W-what happened to the whole it's been a while thing? Fuck, Lucifer." You sat up finally seeing that he split the fabric of your underwear at some point to gain better access." Guess I've still got it." He said with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows at you. You couldn’t take him seriously. Your wetness and lipstick stained his mouth, the eyeliner you had applied had ran down his cheeks and rubbed under his eyes. Not to mention, he was covered in your marks. It's fine you can cover those, you thought. Even with his sudden burst of dominance, you took pride in the fact that this was all because of you. He was all yours.

☆☆☆

If you're curious, that one is pushing 10k words ;)

(Tagging some people who might appreciate it) @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @bat-boness @christineblood

#lucifer morningstar x reader smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut

[helluvapoison]

hihi!! i love your writing and i was wondering if you could do a hazbin hotel x male reader who's physically weak? take your time ofc, don't overwork yourself :3 also since the cast is big, could you include the characters vox, valentino, adam, and angel dust? you can do more if you want, but take care of yourself!! i would like headcanons and i don't mind if it's fluff or smut lol thank you so much!

Being a bottom is a mindset.

Pairing: Vox, Valentino, Adam, Angel Dust x Masc! Reader

Warnings: Mentions being babied, forced domestication, manhandling, oral, exhibitionism, impact play, overstimulation, creampie, intoxication

Word count: 794

✰Masterlist

It's not hard to be weaker than Vox, considering he is an Overlord. Vox finds your weakness to be most delightful. He'll use every opportunity to baby you. He'll brush your teeth for you, pick out your outfits, monitor your social media like a child. He'll expect you to do all the cooking and cleaning like a good househusband. It's not like you can do much of anything else anyways, because Vox barely let's you leave the house.

When you do leave the house, it's mostly going to be for a meeting or because Vox wants you in his office. During these meetings Vox will pull you into his lap. His arm firmly wrapped around your waist to keep you there. If he gets bored, which is very often, he'll tease you through your pants, watching you squirm. When Vox wants you in his office, he wants you there for one reason. To give him head. He loves the feeling of trying to work with his cock shoved down your throat. Knowing that anyone could walk in at any moment.

Again, it's not hard to be weaker than Valentino. But he finds it to be most amusing, and takes great pride in the fact that you're weaker than him. He can literally pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. And he does, a lot. Val loves to just pick you up and bring you wherever he goes. He's a major tease. Will tease you both in public and in private. Has to bring you along to every shoot. It's not one without you is his excuse.

He loves to force you face down into the mattress, because then you're even more defenseless than you were before. You shut up real fast when he spanks you. Because you know that if you don't shut up and take it, things will get much worse for you. Val can't resist shoving his cock down your throat. He just loves to see the cute tears that form in your eyes when you gag on it. He'll have you suck him off in the studio, your dressing room, his limo. He'd even have you suck him off during a meeting, if Vox allowed it. Another one of Val's favorite activities is comparing the size of your cocks and then teasing you for letting him.

It's no surprise to Adam that you're weaker than him. In his mind, almost every angel is weaker than him. He'll 100% make fun of you for it, though. Adam will most likely order you around a lot more, because he likes taking advantage of the fact you'll listen to him. Under no circumstances will you be coming to Hell on extermination day, he doesn't want you to get hurt. It may not seem like it, but he does care for you, a lot.

Like Val, Adam is a huge tease, and will tease you anywhere and everywhere. He'll make you sit on his lap all the time. And will pick you up and carry you around. Loves to fist your hair and bring your face closer to him, even in non-sexual scenarios. Adam loves to purposely tease your wings, with the goal to turn you on. But if you do the same to him, you'll be met with the roughest pounding of your afterlife. Will make fun of you when you start to cry from overstimulation, while wiping your tears. Loves to cum inside you and calls it 'breeding' even if you can't get pregnant.

It's actually very surprising to Angel that you're weaker than him. Most of the sinners he knows are very much not weaker than him. He'll try to keep you out of danger as much as he can. Which is no easy task in Hell. Angel will make sure you stay far away from Val at all costs. I can imagine you being a light weight, so Angel will keep an eye on you to make sure you don't over do it. If you do, he'll be an absolute sweetheart to you. He'll bring you out of the club and back to the hotel. Turning down your drunken advances, because he doesn't want to take advantage of you while you're intoxicated.

Angel is the softest dom you will ever meet. As I've mentioned in previous headcanons, he likes to dom with his partner. Will make sure you're having the best time of your life when having sex. He'll have very clear boundaries and a safeword set in place. He loves to press on your stomach and feel his cock inside you. Angel's favorite thing is makeout sessions that turn into passionate sex. He has many arms that he can do many things with. Take that how you will.

Star's notes -> I do not write male reader often, so I hope this is to your liking!

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @sugarplumz100 @myamythos @hazbinhappy @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @t0uchst4rv3d | Join the taglist

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #valentino x reader

[helluvapoison]

Finally finished my art of @heart-of-the-morningstar 's lovely luci fic💕💕 Lord have mercy luci give me one chance I beg...

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #poiboirecs

[helluvapoison]

How do you think Alastor would act if the reader has a big scent kink? They like to sneak sniffs of him or if there’s ever a chance, smell on his discarded coat. His natural musk makes them horny!

Hazel Imagines…

Alastor would notice immediately that you are trying to take in his smell, as he notices anytime someone enters his personal bubble. I think he would do everything he can to just fluster you without actually saying anything. It’s amusing, almost cute. He definitely appreciates the non-sexual aspect of the kink. Just his scent to get you excited? He can offer that easily and without trouble.

You are looking at some books, Alastor decides to lean across you to grab something utterly unimportant and unnecessary to him. Neck practically touching your nose. “Excuse me.” Opens the book, watching you swallow hard. “Oops, wrong one.” How many books can be grab before you break and run away?

He sees Niffty returning clean laundry to your room. Alastor would slip off his bow tie and set it on top of the neatly folded clothes. He would watch you all day, your eyes avoiding him like the direct stare of an eclipse. How long would it take you to return it to him? How should he punish you for such a wait?

Everyone is gathered for a meeting in the lobby, Alastor ensures the seat beside him is the only one available to you. Jacket off, he rests his arm behind you on the sofa and watches you take poorly hidden deep breaths in. Your thighs come together.

Hell isn’t known for cold weather, but for fun he would slip is suit jacket onto your shoulders, his musk enveloping you. “Hold this, will you?” Whispered directly into your ear from behind. He would go to his room and wait. And when you finally find the courage to knock on his door and return the clothing, he’ll offer you a more intimate chance to appreciate his scent and the pheromones therein. Perhaps he could even manage to break a sweat in his efforts?

ଳ⊹₊ ⋆ masterlist

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

[helluvapoison]

(Wearing their clothes anon) Sorry! For Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Carmilla, Rosie, Angel, Alastor and Pentious

Various! Hazbin x reader stealing their clothes

A/N I ended up only doing them SFW because I just couldn't see most of them being into that. I will probably make a part 2 for Vox, though, because he'd DEFINITELY be into that.

How do you even manage to be smaller then Lucifer, he's like 5'2" LMAO (I am literally an inch taller than him IRL)

CW: SFW, gn!reader, Masc reader for Angel, somewhat suggestive in parts, very slight reference to violence in some, established romantic relationship

Lucifer

- If you came out of your room dressed in his usual outfit, he'd absolutely squeal upon seeing you.

- He would like it very much and thinks you look absolutely adorable in his getup.

- At home, he'd probably just wanna cuddle up to you and play with your (his technically) long sleeves while you watched something or doomscrolled for a while.

- In public he'd be a blushing mess though. (Assuming you'd be wearing his shirt and jacket - he'd likely ask you to change if you were wearing his whole outfit)

- He'd feel an odd sense of embarrassment but also particularly pride about it in public.

- He's so used to being short that if he was out showing you off it'd kind of be a middle finger to people who called him short in a way.

- And also because it's you in his clothes. Basically cementing yourself as being his partner.

- One of the people who would be NSFW about it.

Vox

- He'd love it.

- Especially if it was ridiculously huge on you - like his suit jacket or his button ups in particular.

- In general a partner who's smaller then him would make him feel much more powerful then one he has to look up to, but in his clothes?

- I'm trying to keep it SFW here but yeah 🤨

- If you were wearing his pants and they were super huge on you he'd probably be annoyed though, they'd be getting messed up due to dragging on the ground which is something that'd bother him.

- In public (assuming your relationship is known of. Would be an absolute no to wearing his clothes out if you weren't known about) he would be beaming with pride about it.

- Like Lucifer, it'd cement you as being his partner.

- He'd probably be protective possessive of you in his clothes. If someone tries to even talk to you while you're in his clothes, he would likely be fuming.

- Vox's hands would also likely be on you at all times if you were out with him and wearing his clothes.

Velvette

- If it was anything that was dragging on the floor or getting even slightly crinkled if you wore it she would throw an absolute fit about it.

- She's way too particular about her clothes being treated properly.

- If you're treating her clothes well or if it's something she cares about less? She would probably think you looked very postable like that - which is a good thing in her terms of course.

- Would absolutely want to put photos of you online wearing her stuff. Especially if you both ended up doing an outfit swap with each other due to it.

- Couple stuff gets a ton of likes, and she wants to show you off like the fine arm candy you are to be her partner!

- Probably would not want you wearing her clothes out, though. You would be wearing clothes that fit you or looked perfect for your body type - not hers.

- Most you would get would possibly be her jacket out in public, but even that's unlikely, considering she always picks out every article of clothing and accessory perfectly for her outfits.

Carmilla

- Carmilla would likely see you wearing her clothes and just chuckle, asking you what you thought you were doing exactly.

- She wouldn't feel much of which way about it, just that you were incredibly cute trying to strut around like she usually would in her shirt.

- May try to dance with you since you "so obviously want to be in her shoes"

- slowly guiding you through steps with her through the tango, carefully leading with a look of pure delight on her face.

- Would kiss you on the forehead afterwards.

- Out in public she wouldn't want you to wear her clothes at all however.

- She's the main weapons dealer in hell, a lot of people want her head on a plate for that.

- She would just not feel comfortable having you possibly be mistaken as her or targeted by those people over that.

Rosie

- She wouldn't feel any which way about it either.

- But, she would of course tell you you look absolutely darling.

- Rosie would absolutely be one to pat you on the head about stuff. This included.

- If it's not one of her good dresses or skirts you're wearing.

- She's nowhere near as outright rude about it as Velvette or Vox, but she will firmly ask that you don't wear her good dresses so they don't drag on the ground.

- Outside of clothes, she does like to give you her hat though because it's comically large on your head and it's really cute to her.

- There is absolutely a photo of you with her hat on your head, it falling into your eyes as you smile at the camera.

- In public she wouldn't mind if you wear her clothes out, but she would be scared you would trip over as her skirts are very long.

Angel

- Angel is another one who would love to see you wearing his clothes, not for underlying lewd reasons (surprisingly), but because he thinks you look awesome in his outfits.

- It brings him joy in a way he can't quite describe to see you in his stuff.

- He knows his getups are cool, and to have you, his partner, in his really cool outfits? He loves it.

- Also finds it funny too to see you so small in comparison to clothes and tripping over yourself trying to parade around in some of them.

- Out in public he would probably be encouraging you to wear his stuff because he just likes seeing you wearing his clothes.

- Provided you stay close to him out in public though.

- He's got some insane fanboys and if they saw his boyfriend in his clothes? Shit would hit the fan.

- Without him he wouldn't let you wear his stuff out. Just would put you in danger.

Alastor

- If you were wearing his clothes, it would be because he allowed you to. Ie. Leant you his coat if you were cold.

- In the case of him letting you borrow his stuff, he'd likely just laugh at how oversized it was on you.

- He'd likely say you look darling in it as well, similarly to Rosie but inherently teasing rather than loving like her.

- He sees people smaller then him and likes to pick on them for it a bit.

- Also would probably try hold it over your head as his 'kindness' to you later

- If you showed up in his clothes (not an imitation but his clothes) without permission, though, he'd be incredibly unhappy about that.

- This man seems like the type to hate people touching his possessions without permission, so you showing up in his stuff wouldn't be cute or even him laughing at you - he'd be pretty angry about it and straight up tell you to change.

Sir Pentious

- He'd get all googly eyed about it.

- Would see you swimming in his coat because it's made to fit him as someone with a snake tail instead of legs and just wanna sweep you in close to him.

- He has pretty low self-esteem about himself so seeing you wearing his clothes is pretty much you telling him even more that you don't actually think he's a loser who's kind of gross like a lot of other people in the series think he is.

- Thinks it's just the sweetest thing and likely wants you to wear his clothes often after the first time he sees you in them.

- Somewhat flustered by you wearing them around others and in public because he thinks you two doing PDA/openly expressing you are a couple is somewhat scandalous, but he also does like it very much.

- Would probably try bullshit about him not liking it that much, but it's obvious as it gets.

Some fluff for today 🙏

My requests are still shut rn but they should be opening soon. I'm gonna be trying to finally get chapter 2 of why So blue out tomorrow or the day after. Likely the day after bc it's my birthday tomorrow and I'm doing stuff 🫶

Masterlist

#hazbin hotel headcanon #vox headcanons #lucifer morningstar headcanon #velvette headcanon #carmilla carmine imagine #hazbin hotel rosie imagine #angel dust headcanon #alastor imagine #sir pentious imagine

[helluvapoison]

I needed to get this out of my system

#lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #poiboirecs #SCREAMING

[helluvapoison]

𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 — 𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰 — 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑶𝑼𝑹 ☽ series masterlist | other works

syn. The Radio Demon gathers your wrist and presses kisses along your pulse, stopping when he feels it racing beneath his lips. Gently, he sinks his teeth into your flesh just above your vein, enough to draw a taste of blood, before lapping at the spillage like nectar.

He’ll let you frolic around in his daydreams a little longer—allow you to sip from the chalice and taste mortal life again. It would make your flesh all the sweeter when he finally digs in.

“You are strange,” he murmurs against your skin.

“And you bite too hard,” you complain.

warnings: literal and metaphorical cannibalism, non-sexual biting, soul selling, blood and violence, co-dependency, probably slightly toxic relationship, alastor is a whole walking warning. wc: 5.7k

𝑰 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

The Devil is beautiful beyond comparison.

Wrapped in silky red and black from head to toe; drenched in the colour and stench of blood; he’s dressed to the nines as if tonight will be his last. He stands seven feet tall—eight or nine if you trace all the way to the tips of his antlers now strung with the flesh and sinew of freshly slaughtered buffalo. 

You think for a brief moment that he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, hypnotized by the twirling of his cane. Only divinity could dare to be this breathtaking, yet here he is before you defying all heavensent rules. Unsure of whether you’ll ever stand so close yet so far from Heaven again, you reach out to touch him just to test if he is even real.

The Devil has a suave smile that makes his eyes crinkle in joy, teeth yellow and baring at you. A threat, you think, but you don’t care. His smile shrinks and grows in an endless cycle as you run a hand up and down the front of his coat, corduroy smooth beneath the pads of your fingers.

You recognize this look he’s giving you: who do you think you are? A filthy sinner begging The Devil for salvation? How pathetic.

And yet he seems equally entranced by your touch, as if you are the first. Somehow, he pierces you with his eyes but you can tell that he’s looking straight through you. A silly, powerless fool like you isn’t even worth his eyes.

Despite his apathy, he was the one who intervened with your early demise when he could have just as easily been on his merry way. Venison is best when fresh—that’s what he told the butcher. But it was spoiling in his hands the longer he stood there between you and the door, urging you to leave and simultaneously gluing you to the floor.

The Devil saved your life framed in the harsh red of the underworld.

Light pours in through the door he has blocked, illuminating his frame in warm shades of amber and crimson. His eyes shimmer in the shadow it casts on him, you realize. They glow like fireflies—yellow and flickering.

“You are wounded,” he suddenly points out as he towers over you. At first he seems taken aback by his own observation, as if he hadn’t meant to speak his thoughts into existence, but then it mellows into something along the lines of morbid amusement. Amused by your mortality—the mark of a demon.

Sinners were nothing more than sacks of meat and blood, after all. No less than they were when they were alive on Earth.

The question drifts dangerously through your mind: is he not a Sinner just as much as I am?

Static cracks in his throat, an eerie jazz tune faintly floating through the air, and you know then that you must be wrong. Regular Sinners do not know souls like the dozens you can hear screaming in the background of his smooth jazz.

“Help me. Please?” Your fingers dip into your wound and you cry out weakly in pain. His smile only grows.

Poor little lamb, so sweet and trusting. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought you waltzed right into this shop knowing that the butcher wanted to flay you open.

“Unfortunately, I am not interested in…” He leans down so his face hovers just above yours. “Charity.”

From this angle, he can see the subtle widening of your eyes. The way your pulse jumps in your throat, deliciously afraid. You reek of fear and something else he can’t quite place. It makes him salivate.

The Devil is cold to the touch—death incarnate. You hadn’t noticed until your hands were on his face, his neck, lathering down his chest, nails raking deep marks into his skin.

“I’ll give you my soul.”

“I have plenty of souls, my dear. More than you could possibly imagine! What good would yours do in my collection, hm?”

Yes, what good would your soul be to someone like him? At the end of the day, your name would be drowned out by the endless sea of his other contracts. Forgotten and abandoned, the last piece of your identity. There’s only one way you could be more than those before you.

“I can do anything. I can be anything. Just name it.”

“Oh?” He hums with a raised brow, intrigued by the offer of the soul and body. “And if I said I wanted you to be my dinner tonight?”

You swallow nervously. “Then I would present myself to you on a silver platter.”

He laughs at this, clearly humoured by your answer. “You’ve got yourself a deal!”

And that is how it came to be: a lowly Sinner and an Overlord of Hell—forever intertwined by the messy entanglement of your souls.

Forevermore, you used to joke with your fingers braiding marigolds into his hair. Oh, how he misses that laughter so.

𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 𝑫𝑶

The four walls of Alastor’s radio station become your only friends.

You learn that there isn’t much to talk to besides the walls anyhow, since the microphone and anything else on Alastor’s sprawling desk is off limits. Even he himself is not around very often, sometimes disappearing for days on end and coming back stinking of rotten flesh and blood, of which you have become acquainted.

You also learn that he likes things in a particular way.

For example, you may only see your reflection once every day. I hate it when my food has an ego—that’s what he had told you once. And you are only allowed to eat whatever he hand-feeds you. That is the life of a pet, after all, and you are nothing but a glorified domestic animal he has chained to his wall.

One day passes and he does not devour you like he originally intended. Then two. Then five. Eventually, you lose space on the wall to make another tally mark, so you resort to counting in your head until you forget how to track time.

“Usually people take their dogs for walks,” you once jested to him after he signed off his morning broadcast and sat there staring at the wall for a while.

He only gazed at you lazily from across the room for a moment before rolling his chair over to you and tilting your head back by the chin. He dipped his thumb between your teeth until you chewed on him and told you:

“How convenient it is that you aren’t a dog, then!”

You never brought it up again, not because you were afraid of him swallowing you whole where you stood, but because he tasted of death itself and you would rather avoid having his thumb in your mouth.

The third thing you learn is that he’s not all that scary so long as he deems you entertaining and obedient enough. Overlords—that’s what Alastor calls the ones who own souls—come and go and usually never return.

You earn raised brows and questioning looks. He often challenges them with his eyes: go on, ask me! Ask about my new pet so I have a good enough reason to dirty my coat with your filth.

The ones who pipe up about your presence are the ones who end up as wavelengths in his show. Alastor is quite protective of his pets, you see. What’s his is his, and what isn’t will be his one day. In his own sadistic, twisted ways, he is actually quite a good owner.

You’ve learned the loneliness that comes with being his pet, too.

Loneliness so empty that it swallows your lungs until you can’t breathe. A loneliness that crushes your ribs to dust. The familiar hum of jazz music became your most cherished companion.

Solitude is a funny thing. It plays tricks on the mind, drives people mad. Even Alastor can’t be immune to it, in his defense. You wonder if that’s why he’s opted to do nothing but stare at you from his desk for the night.

Soft whispers and laughter fill the room, voices enchanting you with their poetry. They buzz from the demon’s radio which is perched by his head where it rests on the table.

The room is illuminated only by the tiny lamp on his desk and the artificial glow of moonlight. He has decided to grace you with several blankets after weeks of your complaints of the radio tower being too drafty. They’re wrapped unceremoniously around you.

“What?” You ask him from the sofa after he’s been staring for far longer than he usually would.

He offers you a moment of relief as he tears his eyes away from you, like he had not even realized he was staring so intensely. But then they’re back on you in an instant, boring through your soul.

The soul he owns.

“I’ve never…” He trails off, seeming as if he can’t decide whether or not you are worth conversation.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion, watching him carefully consider his next words. Finally, he goes back to listening to the whispers and chattering from his noisy radio, pretending as if you no longer exist.

You take the opportunity to observe. It’s not like you hadn't had chances to discreetly watch him before—you live under the heel of his boot, after all. But to see him off of his show, face tired and dark despite the permanent smile that paints it, something stirs in your chest.

The final thing you learn is that the only soul more lonely than yours is the one which belongs to the demon who holds your heart.

He keeps friends in his shows. Voices to keep him company. You suppose that before you showed up, there wasn’t much else to talk to, and Alastor is a man of habit. He never stopped collecting those voices, no. Not even with you right there.

Thinking back, you wonder if he ever went as mad as you did when he first brought you here. If he counted days on the walls he talked to. If he would sit in deafening silence after his broadcast ended until deciding he wanted venison for dinner.

If he ever appreciated your presence, even as nothing more than his pet.

It was the only explanation for your beating heart. Why he had not devoured you down to the marrow yet.

You slowly shimmy off the couch and drag the blankets along with you, trailing behind you like a cape. The sudden movement makes his head turn at lightning speed, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

His body is impossibly rigid—it’s the first thing you notice when you drop to your knees by his side to rest your chin on his thigh. Alastor’s claws are threading through your hair before he can stop himself, feeling your warmth beneath his palm.

A dog and their owner. Only this pair could know silent adoration this way.

It’s twisted, you think, that he still holds this spell over you. That he’s still the most beautiful being in all of Hell.

It doesn’t matter anymore, though. Without him, you were nothing more than a plate of dinner that sprouted legs to all the other demons. You may not have your soul, but for some reason, you find comfort being seen by a monster like him.

“You look ridiculous, darling.”

“It’s not my fault you keep me suspended twenty feet off the ground,” you grumble, eyes drifting shut under the gentle smoothing of your hair.

“That’s what the blanket is for!”

“You’re about… five months too late,” you deadpan.

If it were any other Overlord, such a badmouth would have gotten you eaten already. But he only chuckles in response, quiet and lovely.

A long beat of silence passes before realization crashes down on you. Your eyes fly open as you peer up at him in curiosity. His voice is missing its usual lively buzz of static, as if a switch had been turned off. He sounds…

“Beautiful,” you breathe.

The demon raises a brow at you in question. You quickly shake your head, embarrassed by your sudden declaration. His hand stops atop your head. Laughing at your flustered expression, he suddenly removes you from his lap to stand.

“Come. It’s a nice night for a walk.”

“A walk?” You repeat, dumbfounded.

Alastor smiles ear to ear.

“That’s what dogs do, is it not?”

𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑵 𝑫𝑶𝑮

The difference between you and Alastor is that the only soul you’ve ever known is your own.

You’ve memorized its shape, the way it flickers like a flame within your chest. Like it has its own tiny heartbeat—a separate being residing in your body. You know its colour and its tendency to leap when adrenaline courses through you. You know every part of it. Even then, it had taken all of your afterlife to grasp.

Alastor understands something you cannot.

He has long since memorized the collective weight of a thousand souls. The way they all sigh at once, like waves in the ocean bellowing and sinking.

He is an Overlord of Hell. Someone destined to be greater than you. You’ve known this all along.

He’d always been involved in shady business, coming back to the tower stinking of new souls, meat and booze. You remember that he once boasted about his skills in gambling.

“Isn't it just luck?” You asked.

He laughed at your question, “It’s never just luck, dear. That is why you sell souls, and I own them!”

You resented him for those words, even if they were true. Reminders that your soul was sitting in the palm of his hand. That your entire life was that tiny, flickering flame he could blow out at any moment.

At the same time, you were strangely relieved. Alastor offered you more than just protection. He gave you a home, regardless of how boring, and gifted you whatever your heart desired so long as you were obedient.

And no matter how much he denies it and pretends it isn’t so, he’s also a friend. A companion. You have the nights you’ve spent awake talking to him until sunrise to prove it.

Perhaps that is why ugly guilt bubbles in your stomach when you see his bloody body and the first thought you have is:

Does this mean my soul is free?

You’ve smelled blood before. At some point, it became a comforting scent. The smell of Alastor—the scent of home. But you had only smelled the blood of others as it stained his clothes and skin. Never the demon’s.

His shady business was bound to catch up with him eventually.

Your first reaction is to panic. To turn his body over and scour his torso with your hands until you find where the bleeding starts.

“Alastor? Alastor!” You call his name over and over to no avail.

Again, the terrible thought crosses your mind: I should leave him to die. But then he groans in pain, and the thought vanishes just as quickly as it came.

To wish for him to die after all he’s done—you couldn’t stomach that. You would be no better than he who owns souls for his own amusement.

He had stumbled all the way home in the end. To you. There had to be a reason for that. For him to crawl back to you despite his animal instincts.

“I’ll fix you,” you promise with shaking conviction.

You piece him back together with your own two hands, however clumsily. You’ve never stitched together skin before—only sewn fabrics and crocheted yarn that Alastor brought home to keep you entertained.

It’s disturbing how easily your needle threads together flesh. How it writhes under your touch and how much blood really comes out of it.

Alastor bleeds red.

For some reason, you had always thought that he didn’t bleed at all. But he does. He bleeds the same colours as those that stain his face when he returns from long nights out. It smells the same, too—nauseatingly metallic and rotten.

You do your best to piece him together fully, clean the wound, and bandage him up despite his weak efforts to struggle and the bile that pushes up your throat.

“Stop moving!” You yell in frustration.

This is the last thing Alastor remembers from that night: your arms flung around him to stop him from squirming around; your pounding heart pressed against his while you carefully pin him down whilst trying to avoid disturbing his wound; your lips beside his ear as you chant—please, just go to sleep.

When he wakes in the morning, he’s delirious.

At first, he isn’t sure why he’s asleep on the sofa. Your sofa, as you’ve claimed. His head lolls to to face the window to gauge the time of day.

Bright morning light sears his eyes and momentarily blinds him. Groaning, Alastor brings his hand up to cover his eyes. There’s a sudden white hot pain from that action that shocks his system awake.

He hisses, body involuntarily curling in on itself to ease the pain, but it only exacerbates it.

His hand changes route from shielding his eyes to feeling for the spot where it hurts the most. To his horror, he can feel bandages sloppily wrapped where his skin should be.

“The… Hell?” He mutters, trying to push himself onto his elbows to see his stomach better. But he freezes halfway up, propped back on his elbows when he finally catches sight of you. 

You’re seated on the floor with your head in your arms, seemingly sound asleep by his side despite the ruckus he’s caused.

The demon slowly pieces the puzzle together, eyes drifting to the trail of blood smeared from the door to where you’re sitting. He assumes the sofa under him fares no better than his floor, and he groans in disgust.

He takes a minute to stare at the ceiling, trying to remember whatever else he can from last night. But the ache deep in his skin is too pressing to ignore, and eventually he returns to moaning and hissing in agony. Again, he turns his head to you.

You look peaceful this way. Drool pricks at the corner of your lips and as mundane as it is, Alastor can’t help but be a little endeared.

It’s strangely human. You are strangely human.

One hand falls atop your head and the other on his bandages as he watches you slumber. Perhaps it was in your human nature to help him, your terrible captor, when you could have just as easily left him for dead.

You look like an angel basking in the orange glow of the Underworld. His saviour. Beautiful and human.

Fondness boils in his stomach at the idea and he quickly retracts his touch, instead laying an arm over his eyes.

It’s too bright. He can’t think straight.

He considers counting this as an eye for an eye. Your life for his. It would only be fair to set you free now that you’re even.

Dread creeps up his spine at the thought of spending his days in lonely silence once more. You were originally meant to be nothing more but a companion for entertainment. But he was growing quite attached to you as pathetic as it was.

He had gotten used to your witty remarks and dry humour. The way you laugh before you tease him. How you sit on the floor and rest your chin on his thigh even though he’s told you before that his lap is available. And he finds your flustered and exasperated expression after his comments to be more amusing than death.

It would be a shame for it all to end, even if it were the right thing to do. He’s a demon, after all. Hell was for those who knew right from wrong and still became Sinners.

His silent reverie is interrupted by your shuffling. You groggily straighten up, blearily wiping the sleep from your eyes. It takes a minute for the realization to kick in, but when it does, you’re blinking at him in bewilderment.

You’re on top of him in seconds, clinging to his neck and wailing like a child. He hisses in pain, doing his best to sit upright for you and grimacing though his smile.

“You’re okay!” You exclaim, hugging him tighter and tighter.

“Darling—” He grunts, trying to shimmy away from you despite the warmth blooming in his chest. “My stitches!”

You scramble away from him, retreating as if he’d bitten you. Your back hits the other end of the sofa by the time he sits up. “I’m so sorry! I just…”

He watches as your face dims considerably. His heart drops to his stomach for a reason he can’t explain.

“I thought you were going to die,” you whisper. It’s followed by sniffles, and he can tell even without looking that you’ve broken out into tears.

“Come now, dear. Don’t cry. I’m very much alive, thanks to you.”

You nod, using your sleeves to pathetically wipe at your cheeks.

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” you quietly admit with an embarrassed laugh.

Alastor also can’t explain the relief that floods him at that moment. Relief that you’re smiling. That you’re still by his side. That he’s alive. That you saved him.

If he had died, would you have blamed yourself? Even if he hadn’t returned home, would you have waited by the door for him until your soul came back to you?

Would you be sad then, too?

It’s a strange feeling that rises in his throat. He’s never been so grateful to be alive before.

“But you did it,” he tells you. “See?”

You nod again. From the other end of the couch, he can see your shoulders relaxing. It settles him, too—calms his fraying nerves.

He understands, then, the spell you have cast over him in return. He would do anything to see that smile.

Trust is not his forte. Demons are not to be trusted.

However, he can’t help but think that you’d save him over and over again if you needed to. And at that moment, he swears you have a halo glowing atop your head.

An angel in a Sinner’s world.

𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹, 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑻

You wake up to the familiar stench of blood, as you do most mornings.

It isn’t what makes you jolt awake. Rather, it’s the other smell wafting through the air. Mixed with the iron sting is the soft smell of flowers and the deep earthiness of grass and soil. Stirring, you blink the blurriness out of your eyes and take in your surroundings.

Dewy grass pricks at your palms as you sit up. The outline of your body has flattened the moss down and packed it into the earth, downy shrubbery now crushed beneath you.

Alastor sips at his mug, lips nursing the rim as he watches you slowly wake over the top of his newspaper.

“Someone slept well,” he sings with a cheshire smile, ears flopping from one side to the other with the movement of his head. You blink at him from the ground, legs curled under you.

“Where are we?”

“My room, darling.”

You take another look around. A gentle breeze shakes the trees weeping with leaves and vines, tousling the branches so they appear to dance in the wind. You’ve learned never to be surprised when it comes to this demon. He’s a bottomless well of them, after all.

“It doesn’t look like a room,” you observe flatly. He only laughs, shaking his paper flat to continue skimming through the morning column. Dissatisfied by his lack of an answer, you press on

“Does your room come with air conditioning? It’s too humid.”

Alastor snorts. “I prefer it when my dinner marinades without complaint.”

“It’s been months and you have yet to eat me up for dinner,” you point out.

“Tonight will be the night,” he replies nonchalantly, as if it were just any other day. You can’t help but notice the slightest hesitation in his conviction. Like he hasn’t yet made up his mind.

Silence follows his statement and you can only stare at him in response. After he shows no signs of elaborating, you sink back down to the earth with a thud and a sigh. Watching the dark, eerie sky as clouds float by, you pipe up again.

“The sky’s dark. Isn’t it morning?”

“I prefer the night. Calming, isn’t it?”

Your nose scrunches up into a playful sneer. “The big, scary shadow man loves the dark. Who knew?”

“Sarcasm isn’t very cute on you, my dear.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan. “I think I’m hilarious.”

The Radio Demon sets down his paper and peers at you from his seat at the garden table, chin propped on his knuckles. “Entertaining, yes. Hilarious? Not quite.”

“It’s apparently my last day alive,” you grumble, rolling over onto your side so your back is turned to him. “Let me have this.”

Your eyes drift shut as another breeze washes over you. The smell of grass and mossy waters—you never thought you’d have the chance to remember what this was like. What it’s like to be alive. How it feels to have grass between your toes and listen to the distant cries of insects and birds.

When you blink your eyes open again, you expect it all to vanish. To be back in Alastor’s radio tower, banished to your own little corner where he can watch you and entertain himself. To feel the rattle of the chain around your neck while he pulls you closer just to have a taste of your soft flesh.

But when you finally allow your surroundings to sink in again, you’re met with nothing but open night skies freckled with globs of stars. It feels free. You had forgotten what that felt like, too.

“I don’t enjoy it when my dinner feels sentimental, either,” he suddenly hums. You roll onto your back, head lolling to the side so you can glare at him. Slowly pushing yourself up, you haunch back on your palms with your legs outstretched toward the flowing water. 

“I’m not sentimental,” you argue.

“Oh? Is that so?”

You scoff in lieu of a proper reply. On your hands and knees you drag yourself toward the luminescence hovering just above the water. You come so close that your hands sink deep into the mud of the riverbank, surely dirtying your clothes in the process.

Fireflies swirl in the air and make the surface of the water shimmer like the stars in the sky above you. You carefully collect a firefly between your muddy palms.

It flicks around in a panic, knocking against the tiny cage you’ve built with your hands until it finally settles down in defeat. You can’t help but feel a little sorry for it. 

Trapped. Like you.

Alastor watches you curiously, your face dimly illuminated by the glow of the firefly. He’d usually prefer enjoying his swamp alone, but in a final act of mercy had decided to allow you in just this once. Perhaps he had made a mistake, however. There was a reason he killed swiftly.

He never did like getting attached to his food.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The demon blinks at you. “Fireflies?”

You shake your head.

“Life.”

But it’s not alive, he wants to say. This is all just a grandiose daydream, after all. Soon enough you’ll offer yourself up to him and he’ll devour you without second thought. The dream will end and reality will come crashing down.

He’ll be alone again, the way a monster like him deserves to be.

He slowly rises from his seat and makes his way to your side. Sinking to his knees, mud cakes his pants and his coat. You look at him in confusion, hands unclasping to release the insect to the wild once more.

“Are you that impatient for dinner?” You ask jokingly, albeit with a shake of nervousness underneath.

The Radio Demon gathers your wrist and presses kisses along your pulse, stopping when he feels it racing beneath his lips. Gently, he sinks his teeth into your flesh just above your vein, enough to draw a taste of blood, before lapping at the spillage like nectar.

You suck in a sharp breath, perfectly still beside him. Your free hand comes up to cup his face carefully, causing him to release his bite. Thumb smearing mud along his cheekbone, you look at him in wonder.

It causes him to withdraw, recoiling from you as if you just burned him. The weight of your eyes is too heavy—like you know every part of him at just a glance. He loves being the center of attention, but with you it’s too much.

You always did look at him like he was beautiful. Like he was life itself.

He can see it in every inch of your expression—some kind of twisted longing. It awakens something burrowed deep in his stomach, primal and wanting.

For all these decades he had been utterly alone. And for once in his afterlife, he had felt what it was like to be wanted. To be worshipped.

Does it really have to end so selfishly?

He’ll let you frolic around in his daydreams a little longer—allow you to sip from the chalice and taste mortal life again. It would make your flesh all the sweeter when he finally digs in.

“You are strange,” he murmurs against your skin.

“And you bite too hard,” you complain.

He only licks at your wound apologetically.

𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵. 𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑨𝑮𝑬. 𝑬𝑨𝑻.

The word devotion does not exist in Alastor’s dictionary. The fiery depths of Hell incinerated whatever meaning it held for him long ago.

Nothing is forever—that’s what his mother said to him with a quiver in her voice and trembling fingers captured in his. Her final words to him, not that he was all that sentimental about it anymore.

If you took a peek into Alastor's heart, you might expect to find some select choices of rye from the speakeasies he danced at in his youth. Or perhaps you would see the endless bog of contracts for every soul he owned, the names signed on them lost as if they were nothing more than grains of sugar in his coffee. 

He does not know how to love.

To be honest, he can’t quite remember if he ever learned how to love in life. He remembers what it was like to have his head in his mothers lap after he quit his first job, sobbing pathetically while she hummed to him about how proud she still was. He remembers running his hands over the smooth wooden desk of his radio station in New Orleans, the feel of fresh lacquer under his fingers.

Love was not something foreign to him. He was surrounded by it—the way rye burned in his chest; the feeling of his mother’s hands in his hair; the smell of coffee and wood lacquer. And even in death, he was surrounded by love. By you.

The scent of your blood. The vulnerability of your skin and how easily he could pierce it with his claws. You were fragile and sweet, something strange in a place permanently stained with blood and reeking of death.

Before he had memorized the pattern of your snores, or the way you cradle his face when he bites you like an untamable beast, or the racing of your pulse beneath his lips, amusement was all he ever pursued. His next plaything, whatever would keep him entertained until they inevitably joined his broadcast.

But you had overwritten his heart too long ago to remember what that was even like. The thought of your voice screaming in the back of his show only makes his stomach turn until he feels like he is about to vomit. 

The thought of losing you—his single treasure in the underworld—was more than he could bear. Amusement and a good meal were not worth your life.

Once, too many moons ago to count, you had promised yourself to him on a silver platter. In all that time you had kept him company, regardless of your sarcastic quips and your disinterest in his hobbies of killing for fun. You had become something worth cherishing. Worth protecting.

He hadn’t accounted for the fact that the only one he needed to protect you from the most was himself.

Here's what you would really see if you looked into Alastor's heart: you, with your jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut so tight that your brows are furrowed. Blood—lots of blood—spilling from your skin like liquid gold.

You, and those tears that he hates so fucking much. Don't cry, he would tell you, and you would listen to him because you adore him. Your flesh between his teeth as he sinks them deeper, plunging his fangs into your skin. A devouring so slow that it's agonizing, and finally your blissful little sigh.

He loves you so much that it aches, that it burns in his stomach. He's ashamed of it, of your effect on him—the spell he can't break.

No, that's wrong. He doesn't love you. At least, he doesn't think he does. Monsters do not love.

That's why you are being swallowed up whole, isn't it? Because he's a monster?

Your hands collect his face just as his mind starts to wander. You gaze at him so softly, so tenderly, as if he isn't all claws and teeth and blood soaked antlers. He wonders if you even realize what's in your arms.

"Alastor..."

His name is a whisper of a prayer on your lips—sweet and beautiful like you. If he could devour you like this he would, just to immortalize you. The iron stench of blood fills his nostrils as you cradle him. 

Ah, he's gone too far.

Slowly, he laps up the blood trickling down your skin. A silent apology. And you forgive him—you always do. It's just in your nature to trust monsters. To trust him.

"I love you."

He realizes, then. He's no monster in your eyes. He's just the devil. A beautiful, charming demon who you signed your soul away to.

Alastor doesn't say it back, but he loves you. He's sure he does. He would love you into flame if he could.

☽

notes: this series was inspired by this post from like 2 months ago that i finally got around to!! shoutout to too sweet by hozier and morbid cannibalism poetry on pinterest for getting me through this

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @iicarused @lillylovesalastorsm1 @veroneverleft (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

© ALASTORSS — DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, MODIFY, OR DISTRIBUTE TO OTHER SITES.

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[helluvapoison]

rambling about lucifer falling in love with a single parent reader— but with a twist!

you and your kiddo are both sinners (late on lucifer’s flabbergasted that heaven would do that to a child) you think you’re beyond redemption but maybe, hopefully, you can send kiddo to heaven via charlie’s hotel

a friendship with lucifer blooms. he helps with kiddo when he can (probably-definitely steps over boundaries every now and then but with the best intentions) he starts shopping for things he thinks you’d like, makes you and kiddo matching ducks, walks with you both to the park. overall he gets more involved than he ever meant and before he knows it he’s in love

the guilt, the longing, the drama of it all!

he doesn’t know what to do with himself

#ramblings #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine

[helluvapoison]

The SafeWord is RadioApple (a tidbit epilogue to part 3)

@readergirlstuff

You rested your cheek on the bar, hangover in full effect but the cool wood was calming the headache.

“Sooo, who wears the pants in this triangle of horrors.” Angel leaned back against the bar, watching Lucifer and Alastor glare at each other from separate armchairs.

“Now that’s a dumb question.” Husk shook his head.

“Okay if it’s so obvious then you tell me.”

Husk put his hands up defensively, “Not stupid because it’s obvious, but because only an idiot would piss off the cruelest overlord and the king of hell with one sentence.”

“The king is always going to come out on top.” Luci smiled directly at Alastor.

“Funny, you spent your night on your back.” Alastor rose his newspaper to block out the view of Luci.

“Who am I to deny one of my people the chance to serve their majesty?”

Alastor cackled, wiping tears from his eyes, “Serve? You were literally begging for my-“

“YOU ASKED ME TO!” Horns fully grown, on his feet.

“You sounded like you meant it.” Alastor’s body grew to twice his size, antlers hitting the bar’s overhang as static cut in and out of his voice.

“Enough! Shh. Quiet.” You pulled a napkin over your head to block out the bright lights. “I need you both to shut the fuck up for like, 5 minutes.”

Both men stilled, returning to their seats. Lucifer scrolled on his phone, sheepish. Alastor returned to his paper.

Angel tapped the bar, “Not so obvious, was it, whiskers.”

“Damn.” Husk shook his head.

“Kiss kiss love you sorry,” you offered, a pang of guilt for being so rude to them. Especially in front of others. You knew you’d have to make amends later.

Lucifer perked up, eyes wide and shining, “did you say-?”

Alastor’s smile nearly dropped, an unseen audience awwing over the radio static as he accidentally ripped the newspaper in half, “what was that now?”

Fuck.

A little tidbit of:

⟢Lucifer x Reader x Alastor - The Safeword is RadioApple smut💦

Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱✨NEW✨

#radioapple x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor x reader

[helluvapoison]

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #write your story #where am i going with this