highonakuweeds

[highonakuweeds]

One Faithful Night (Human!Alastor x wife!reader)

(A/N: this may be one of my most favorite works I've written. Also human Alastor 🔛🔝)

TAGS: human Alastor x reader, intimate smut, domestic fluff (if you squint hard enough), mentions of wanting children, creampie, fingering, riding

This human Alastor is heavily inspired by one of my idols, so please check out A Doe In Fall by @/ hazelfoureyes :33

You glanced at the clock, crossing your legs as you draped yourself on the cushioned couch. One o’clock. 

You sighed, shaking your head as you stood up; Alastor was coming home incredibly late for the 3rd time this week, and it’s just Thursday! 

You knew why he was out at such a time. You knew why he would come home with a red stain somewhere on his clothes or his body.

Your husband was with somebody.

Well, some body. You knew he was the New Orleans serial killer. 

You’ve come to terms with it long ago, when he ranted about one of the victims shortly before they died. Or when you were washing his and your clothes one day and noticed the way the water turned a faint red when you were scrubbing his black dress shirt.

To be honest, you weren’t really surprised; he had some murderer tendencies that you were aware of when you said yes to him. Plus, you had your own skeletons in the closet; you couldn’t just berate his dark secret while keeping yours safely locked away.

You slowly made your way to the bedroom, unbuttoning your dress to slip into a more comfortable nightgown. It was a deep, almost rustic red, its hem only reaching your mid thigh.

With a sigh, you jumped onto the bed, hurrying into the covers and relishing in the pressure of it as it slowly fell on your body. The air tonight was cold as hunting season rolled around, so curling yourself into a ball was definitely the best way to reserve your body heat. 

You found yourself easily drifting to sleep, your eyelids becoming far too heavy to be kept open. You took a deep breath before you succumbed to your weariness, though missing the weight of your husband beside you.

You were awoken by a small peck on your forehead, and the sound of polished shoes on the floor. With groggy eyes, you opened them, your eyesight still blurry as it caught the vague outline of your husband. 

“Al,” you surprised yourself at your hoarse voice, and you saw him turn his head to look at you. “Mon amour, why are you still awake?”

You sat up, shaking your head. “That doesn’t matter. What time is it?”

Alastor glanced at his watch before taking it off. “Half past 2.” He turned his gaze to you apologetically. “I’m sorry for coming home late again.”

You smiled warmly, watching the way he sat on his side of the bed to remove his shoes. “It’s alright, chér; I know how much of a workload WWL can give its employees.”

Oh, did you mention that he didn’t know you knew? Ah, men; always thinking they’re slick.

He softly laughed, his smile making his glasses raise slightly. “Yes, it’s quite a lot.” Alastor stood up to change into cleaner clothes, but you stopped him with a noise.

Your husband craned his neck to look at you with a curious arch of a brow, and you grinned, patting his side of the bed. “Stay here for a bit.”

“I’m dirty, my dear.” He tried to reason out, but you put a palm in front of you as a way to stop him. “You aren’t to me; come here.”

He rolled his eyes with a playful smirk before untying his bowtie and placing it on his nightstand, slipping under the covers with you shortly after. Alastor’s arms easily wrapped around your waist, as they’d had multiple times before, before placing a quick kiss on your lips.

As soon as he laid beside you, you immediately tugged him closer, your nose breathing in his perfume and natural scent; God, you missed that.

Alastor noticed what you were doing and chuckled. You glared at him before taking another sniff. “What? I miss my husband; is that a crime?” you asked, kissing his neck before finally detaching yourself from him.

He grinned, pulling the covers closer to both of yours and his shoulders before responding. “I never said it was, dear.” He cupped your cheek gingerly before pulling you into an intimate kiss, the arm around your waist doing the same motion with your body.

You welcomed his romantic action with open arms; he rarely ever gave you a kiss longer than a couple of short-lived seconds, so who were you to refuse such a sporadic gesture?

What you weren’t expecting, though, was for him to deepen it, his tongue asking your mouth for permission to do so. You allowed it, a smile growing on your face. Well, this was new.

Alastor’s hand trailed from your waist to your thigh, where he cupped the bottom of it to hook around his hips. You let out a noise of surprise at that and pulled away, narrowing your eyes in playful skepticism when you caught that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Alastor,” you drag out, a grin with the same behavior as his gaze. “What are you trying to pull?”

Your husband’s eyes flickered to your lips, spawning butterflies in your stomach. “Isn’t it obvious, my dear? I just missed you so much today; I hadn’t seen you in practically 12 hours—”

“13,” you corrected, making him laugh. “13 hours, and I intend to make up for it…” The hand that was on the bottom of your thigh gripped the flesh of it tightly, his nails probably marking soft crescents against your skin, and you shuddered at its grasp.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You don’t have to make up for anything, mon beau. Just your presence is enough—”

Alastor shook his head, making his glasses shift on his face. “Nonsense.” He smiled gently as you fixed them, knowing fully that you couldn’t just remove them without removing his ability to see. “Let me please you…”

This stupid radio host’s voice was so sultry, it sent sparks of heat all the way down. While you were distracted by it, though, Alastor’s hands roamed around your body, softly caressing your skin through the nightgown before gingerly cupping your chest, making you moan quietly.

He seemed to bask in your reaction with how wide his grin stretched. One of his hands went back down to your lower body, kneading the thigh around his hips tenderly. His thumbs were the real devil, however, one of them was brushing against your nipple while the other was so dangerously close to your now aching core.

You shortly laughed at his antics, and shot him a warning glare. Alastor just smiled innocently despite his fingers threatening to do something the exact opposite of that.

Both of his hands began to memorize every curve your body had to offer, and he sighed when your nightgown’s silk tickled his palms. “It should be a sin how you look absolutely ravishing in what you’re wearing right now, chérie…”

You giggled at his words, quirking a brow upwards. “Do you like it, sweetheart?”

“No, I don’t,” he said sternly. “I love it.”

One of his hands lowered itself to your inner thighs, where his thumb drew circles on it. You sucked in a breath at his touch; for someone who constantly says that anything sexual isn’t his cup of tea, he surely knows how to please a woman.

You bit your bottom lip as you felt his middle finger enter you, the slender little serpent. It began to curl upwards, easily hitting your g-spot. You couldn’t hold back the moans that he was getting out of you, and you buried your face in the space between the pillows and his neck.

Alastor chuckled, and you could’ve sworn you heard condescension. “My, my, darling. Falling apart at a single finger already?”

You groaned, the sound muffling from how you were positioned. Your husband set his pace irregularly, constantly switching back and forth between quick and shallow thrusts to slow and hard curls. “I’m not ‘falling apart’,” you huffed. “I’m simply acknowledging the pleasure you’re giving me. Am I not allowed to react?”

Alastor laughed at your words. That’s one thing he loved about you, always so quick-witted to his teasing. He responded by slipping his ring finger inside of you and pumping with such care and calculation, the thought of it alone made you see stars.

“Of course you are.” His voice was so close to your ear, blush spread across your cheeks. “Of course you’re allowed to react to this, ma beau femme.” Alastor cursed under his breath when your warmth squeezed his fingers the more he thrusted them inside you; you were so inviting. “So wet, all for me…”

“Oh, stop it with your words, you tease.” You lifted your head up to look at him, every other word being accompanied by a pant.

“But why would I ever do that?” He tilted his head, making the pillows shift under him. “Why would I neglect you of something that clearly makes you so worked up?”

You tensed at his words before melting at his fingers, the sinful appendages rendering you speechless. Your lips found solace on his collarbone, lazily kissing and biting across it.

Alastor hissed at the contact of your teeth to his skin, and increased the rhythm his fingers had on you, his palm hitting your now swollen clit with every thrust.

Your hips stuttered at his pace, your breath coming out in hot and heavy breaths. You shut your eyes and rested your forehead on your husband’s neck; you could practically hear his pulse thumping against it.

“There you are…” He whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead. Every single movement of his was so intimate, so romantic. Well to be fair, Alastor was never one to be rough with you. He would rather pamper and spoil you than anything else.

You turned into jelly as he connected your lips together, shockwaves spreading all across your body when he added more intention to pressing his palm against your clit. You whined into his mouth at the sudden intensity, hips having a mind of their own as they grinded onto his hand.

“Someone’s needy.” He commented, surprise fake in his voice. The pads of his middle and ring finger pressed against the spongy part of your walls at the same time he thrusted his palm, causing you to practically wail. Your lips quivered at the amount of noises being pulled out of you, and Alastor seemed to relish in each and every one.

You mewled his name, his skilled fingers making them come out as hushed whispers. Normally, you would’ve been embarrassed about the fact that you were crumbling by just two fingers that you’ve had inside you on various occasions, but your mind was too hazy to think about your pride. Plus, this night felt different, and you weren’t not going to cave into such a pleasure.

Slowly, you felt pressure build up in your core, and you gasped at the feeling; bliss was consuming you more quickly than normal. Your eyes darted to meet Alastor’s half lidded ones, catching the sadistic grin on his face afterwards. You pouted your lips as you groaned, taking a deep breath. The cool air of late November filled your lungs tastefully, and you shivered at its lack of warmth. 

Alastor’s grip on you was sufficient enough to heat your entire body up, though. Your hand found its way to rest on his chest, where it focused on the way he was panting alongside you.

Your pleasure was his.

“Won’t you cum for me, darling?” He asked hoarsely, his smile evident in his voice. His other hand trailed up to your breast, which he kneaded and fondled with.

You let out a sharp gasp before nodding vigorously against his clavicle, your breaths mere hiccups as you grinded your hips erratically. “I-I will, Alastor; I will…”

Your husband’s lips curled upwards, his eyes gazing at you longingly. “That’s my girl, so compliant.” Your walls convulsed around his digits, and he groaned at the feeling, wondering just how tight you’d be if he’d entered you instead.

The double stimulation was too much for you to handle, even if you’ve done similar things to yourself before. But with his slender fingers sliding in and out of you with such ease, abusing your sweet spot endlessly, it felt nothing like yours.

Shit, just the idea of him being the one pleasing you was able to send you right off the edge. With a cry of his name, you came undone, legs spasming as he did not slow down.

The yapper he is, he began to babble praises and sweet nothings in your ear, taking deep breaths to match with you. Alastor knew how coated his hand was with your juices, and the thought alone made his pants tighten painfully.

But fuck, the pain felt so good.

“That’s it, that’s it. You’re doing so well,” he cooed, planting another kiss on your forehead. That only made your hair stick to it even further, but you couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it now. All you could think about was his fingers in you. 

Alastor grinned as he watched your whole body stir from your climax, your breathing finally slowing down. He watched your eyes struggle to open and look him in the eye and reward him with that flushed out, slightly pathetic expression that he loved seeing on you.

You were divine in his eyes. He knew his fate, his place underneath the soil of the earth, and he constantly wondered what angel brought you down from Heaven as his personal gift. Maybe they were trying to convince him, trying to sway his judgment to a better one. More moral.

But Alastor accepted the fact that there was no redeeming him. Even with that, though, that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the apple that God gave him. What’s wrong with a little indulgence?

He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt the bed shift, and he looked at you in alarm. “(Name)?-”

“Shh.” You shushed, climbing on top of him. Alastor gave every drop of his attention to what you were doing. He grunted softly when your hips landed on his while you twitched at the accidental overstimulation. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He just chuckled softly, his smile growing on his face. Alastor never ceased to amaze you with his perfect grin. “You already do, chérie.”

You tutted, shaking your head, despite knowing that he probably meant it. “Non, you’ve given me something, let me give you something in return.” You leaned forward until your chests were almost touching, arms folded underneath you to steady yourself.

You ignored the faint discomfort of your bare cunt against his clothed erection, and instead focused on his soft groans as you grinded yourself on him. Your eyes followed your husband’s fingers as they trailed to his mouth, where he sucked all of the remaining juices from a couple minutes prior.

Alastor sighed deeply at the taste, almost fully shutting his eyes to savor the flavor. 

And good God, was that a sight to behold. 

To see your husband, someone who people have praised for his poise, with two digits in his mouth, sucking and pumping them like there was no tomorrow, not letting your flavor leave his lips made you swell up with pride. You made Alastor a starved man eating his last meal before his death, and he made sure to eat until he could no longer taste you on his fingers.

You could only gaze at him through warm eyes, your hips never stopping its movement against his. Alastor removed his fingers from his mouth with a pop before lazily grinning at you. “You taste absolutely heavenly, my dear.” His other hand snaked up to your nape and pulled your closer, noses touching.

He let out a shaky breath before chuckling, his eyes tightly shut. “And you make me such a dirty, feral animal.”

“And I intend to tame you.” You whispered in his ear before placing a kiss directly below it, so close to his pulse. The perfume he put on hours ago filled your mind, and it urged you to kiss him more. Make him feel ecstasy. 

He groaned at your kisses, his hands instinctively gripping your hips. As you peckered your lips on his neck, you couldn’t help but grin. “You deserve to rest, darling,” you muttered against his skin, barely sinking your teeth in. 

Alastor let out a tight laugh, his chest rising as he inhaled afterward. But before he could respond to you, you lifted yourself to sit upright, your hands fumbling with his belt on purpose. “You worked so hard today, didn’t you, Al?” You removed his belt in one swift motion, your hand immediately palming his aching hard on. “Oh, you poor thing; so neglected…”

Your husband had more than enough self control; you knew that. He could probably pleasure you for hours without thinking a single thought about his own. But all of that came crumbling down when you teased him through his clothes.

Alastor’s hips bucked against your palm, and he cursed under his breath as he shut his eyes. A strained smile formed on his lips, his brow twitching in difficult restraint. “My dear, don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not!” You laughed out, your thumb tracing the outline of his pants’ crotch. Your eyes followed your soft trails of fire you were leaving on Alastor, the smile on your face still present. “I’m simply stating the fact that you did so good today.”

“(Name)-“

“Fuck, you should be rewarded, right?” You breathed out, unbuttoning his pants. “You should just stay back; relax.” Your eyes flickered to lock with his. “Let me do all the work this time. Trust me?”

Alastor didn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes; he knew that whenever you asked him that two-worded question, you were planning something. “What would happen if I’d say no?”

You snorted at that before unzipping his pants, your pointer finger’s knuckle grazing against his clothed erection.

He shuddered beneath you, the back of his hand on his mouth as he glanced at you through his bottom lashes. Alastor watched intently as you finally freed him, your thumb circling his leaking tip.

You could see the way he was throbbing, inviting you to sink down on him, and it had made you as wet as your previous orgasm. Your eyes scanned and learnt every vein meticulously until you couldn’t take it anymore. You aligned your hips with his, and glanced at him to see his reaction.

Just as you predicted, Alastor’s eyes were locked onto where your bare bodies touched, his breathing almost coming to a standstill. You saw the way the lean muscles of his stomach convulsed as you finally sat down on him, the one hand on your hip squeezing into the flesh of it. The pain made you moan as you tried to bottom him out in one go, but the both of you knew that could never really happen.

“Dear, slow down.” Alastor whispered, noticing how you rolled your hips with him midway inside of you to ease him in. You bit your bottom lip, adrenaline coursing through the blood in it. “I can do this.”

“I know you can, love—”

“I can—” You found a spot that comfortably slid him in you and took advantage of it. In just a snap, your pelvis touched his, and you sucked in a breath before moaning, your hands splayed on his chest. 

Alastor bit the back of his hand as he let out a low, dragged out groan. He closed his eyes at the feeling of being inside something, someone so warm. It doesn’t matter if you two would be making love 10 or 20 years after your marriage; he will never get used to this.

God, he wishes he never will.

You panted with your tongue fat in your mouth, your lips twitching with eagerness. At a pace you could carefully adjust to, you rocked your hips against his, soliciting small whines from yourself, and breathless moans from him.

“You’re so tired, aren’t you, amor?” The words rolled off of your tongue effortlessly, in the same fashion as your lower body. “You just wanna relax…”

Alastor just scoffed at your words, removing his hand from his mouth to cup your hip with both hands. You were so beautiful; he could just stare at you for hours, listen to your voice for eternity.

You lifted your hips and sat back down once, something Alastor did not expect. He let out a loud moan, his upper body tensing at the unexpected but welcome feeling. “Oh, poor baby.” You pouted, having a field trip teasing your husband like this. 

He gritted his teeth; so this is why you asked him if he trusted you. “(Name), you’re more of a tease than I am.” He remarked, his voice taut. Alastor couldn’t help himself when he thrusted into you after just a second or two; frankly, it surprised him just as much as it did you.

“Well, look who’s the needy one now.” You smiled, a mischievous glint in your eye as you leaned closer to his lips. He had expected you to kiss him, or press your nose against his, but you had just lingered there, smiling and taunting.

“You must’ve been so stressed at work.” Ugh, he heard it. He heard the pity (near mockery) laced delicately in each word. It usually would’ve pissed him off (though he wouldn’t show it), but now it strangely aroused him even more.

Alastor decided to indulge in your little rambling.

“So tired, love.” He breathed out, watching in amazement as you finally started to ride him. “I guess—oh, you feel so good—I guess I do need to let off some steam…”

Your eyes gleamed when he agreed with your little taunting statements. You finally connected your lips together, and he immediately accepted your kiss. 

And fuck, was it intimate. It was sensual, desperation heard in every slick, wet noise made from either the kiss or your very handsome ride.

Alastor gripped your hips so tightly to the point you were surprised it didn’t draw blood, and sat up, guiding you along with his body. “I need someone gorgeous,” he thrusted, timing it with your bounces. “Intelligent,” he pushed his hips deeper into you, and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at his desire for you. “Sexy,” at that, you laughed, earning a small chuckle from your husband. His hands traveled lower to cup your ass, and he squeezed, your flesh spilling in between the gaps of his fingers. “To help me relax.”

“I’ll give you what you want, mon amour.” You whispered, resting your head against his warm neck. “I’ll give you anything.”

At that, Alastor groaned, a low, needy sound that sent viscous trails of pleasure down to your core. “Would you really give me anything, ma belle?”

You began to quicken your pace, despite your legs screaming at you to stop and slow down. You nodded, breathlessly laughing as your lungs tried to catch up with you and your husband’s escapade. “You know I would, Al.”

You could’ve sworn you heard him whine in your ear softly at your declaration of love, his hands going back to your hips to guide you to an even quicker pace. You practically sobbed at your spouse’s desired speed, and you clung onto him for dear life. 

“Let’s try for a child, darling.” He pleaded, his breath hot on your neck. “It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

Your stomach flipped at his words; did he really mean it?

“I do. Fuck, (Name), I really do.” Alastor’s hips had a mind of their own as they pounded into you, his nails digging into your skin as he tried to control the tempo your body had. You hadn’t even realized that you said your thoughts out loud, but you were so glad you did.

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Whenever you’d feel yourself growing needy for your husband, you didn’t immediately go to him to satiate it; you knew how he felt about topics like that. Your walls were molded in the shape of your fingers, not his, and before, you were totally fine with that. But with every time he indulges in your urges, you couldn’t help but want to beg for more from him. 

You don’t, though; you have at least some self-restraint.

“(Name),” Alastor’s voice snapped you out of your hazed out trance. “(Name), I’m close—”

“Don’t stop.” You whispered, harsh yet yearning, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for some sort of stability. “For the love of everything that is holy, Alastor, do not stop.”

Your husband laughed at the irony of it all, but obliged your demand. “Whatever makes my wife happy.” 

His rhythm was almost bruising, but damnit did it feel absolutely bewildering. Alastor knew you like the back of his hand, from your desired speed to your certain turn-ons. 

One of his hands moved upwards to your nape, carefully and slowly, as he drank up your fucked out expression, lips curled in bliss as you could barely keep your eyes open. He reeled you in for a kiss from his grip on the back of your neck, his brows twitching as he felt himself do the same thing inside of you.

It didn’t matter how many times Alastor would tell you that you made him such a degenerate, suddenly needing your touch 24/7; it will never be enough. You would never know just how much he meant it. 

He loved how needy you would get because of his voice or his gaze alone. He loved how he would catch you staring at him from across the room as if you were a lovesick fool, a teenager experiencing their first crush. And he most especially loved just how dumb you’d always be on his cock.

When you unintentionally began to grind with him still buried inside you, he unraveled before you, moans and soft sighs traveling from his mouth to yours as he painted your walls white. Alastor’s glasses fogged up the more deep breaths he took, but at that point, he didn’t care.

A small smile graced his lips when you so harshly fucked his cum deeper into you, your own whines vibrating in his mouth. It was clear that you wanted this as much as he did.

Finally, his hips stilled inside you, and with a wet pop, Alastor parted from the kiss, his chest heaving alongside yours. He grinned as you, with shaky hands, removed his glasses from his face, and placed it on yourself. You squinted your eyes at how terrible you forgot his eyesight to be, and as a remedy, you moved it lower down your nose bridge. 

“You’re so gorgeous, (Name).” He whispered, his hands massaging the possible bruises he’d inflicted on your hips. You scoffed at his words, your fingers mindlessly tracing his collarbone. “You’re just saying that.”

“But why would I feel the need to lie if it isn’t even necessary?” He kissed your neck gently, and you giggled when it tickled. “I don’t need my glasses to see your beauty.”

“Oh, you,” you tilted your head to rest against his. “Always knowing what to say.” 

You two stayed like that, breathing patterns matching with each other relatively quickly. It wasn’t long until you realized just how early in the morning it was, and you knit your brows together. “What time is it?”

“If I were to guess, it’s probably a quarter past 3.” Your husband replied, his eyes narrowing with his difficulty to see. 

“Alastor!” You exclaimed, a shot of adrenaline coursing through your blood flow. “We have an event to go to tomorrow!”

“Oh, no!” He feigned surprise, gasping dramatically. “What ever will we do?” When you rolled your eyes at him with a faint smile, he chuckled. “I’ll draw us a bath.”

“Alastor, it’s 3 in the morning—”

“And we shouldn’t sleep dirty. I still haven’t freshened up, per your request.” He reminded you, making you take a deep breath. “Alright, then,” you conceded, yawning as he shifted himself to sit down at the edge of the bed, his hands gripping your bottom. He still didn’t want to leave your warmth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he stood up. “You know you can pull out now, right?”

“I know.” He beamed, kissing your cheek. “I just don’t want to.”

#alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #human alastor #human alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazhin hotel #riding #fingering #smut #fluff

[highonakuweeds]

Random Hazbin Men Headcanons

I couldn't help myself.

ALASTOR

He does have a tail, yes; that’s the reason why his coat is super flared out. It’s a wonder people haven’t seen it yet.

Well, it’s either the fact no one has seen it or he just brutally murders those who have already seen it

It doesn’t wag when he’s happy, though; he’s not a dog. Or rather, he can control it when he’s happy since it’s always slow. When he’s panicking or stressed, however, that’s a different story

It is sensitive. Please do not pull on it because it’s still connected to his spine and that shit hurts. Curling your finger along its fur seems to be okay, though

Ears are more sensitive than his tail. Because of their fluffy nature, just grazing a fingertip near the inside of his ears make them twitch.

Yes, it tickles.

He would never admit the fact that scratching the base of them feels more relieving than it should.

Actually had curly/wavy-ish hair when he was alive, and was devastated when he realized Hell permanently straightened his hair. He was grateful his hair maintained its volume, though

VOX

Most probably knows how to cook and clean and do all of that housework bullshit because of Vel and Val. They would never shut up about the fact that he couldn’t do that before

Is genuinely really good at baking. One of his guilty pleasures

Would spoil the people he feels close to (i.e., Vel, Val, and when they were still in contact, Alastor)

Knows deep down that he will never actually beat Alastor, but forces himself to believe otherwise because why would he give the stupid deer demon that satisfaction???

Despite the fact the man is literally all about modern technology bs, he barely knows what goes on in the less political/economic side of media. He only knows some things because of Vel and Val

Whether it be on purpose or not, like half of his mannerisms stem from looking up at Alastor before.

Genuinely loves electric swing and jazz just like Al (it was a coincidence), but since people associate those two genres with the Radio demon, he pretends to hate it and adore dubstep

He loves dubstep, too; he just hated the fact he had to like it because he didn’t want to be associated with Al (even if he made a whole song about him)

Would rather wear quiet luxury than extravagant clothing but he loves seeing people’s faces when they gawk at the amount of expensive shit he has

SIR PENTIOUS

Filthy rich. Unironically. HE BOUGHT A WHOLE CRATE FULL OF CARMILLA’S WEAPONS; ISN’T THAT SHIT EXPENSIVE???

One of his hobbies is doodling, and is actually really good at it

When he was alive, he probably had the most luscious, silk, gorgeous hair you’d ever seen. But then he probably had to cut it all off

Crawled on the ground for the first couple of months since his drop into Hell bc he couldn’t figure out his tail

He could make the most intimidating and dangerous machine in just a couple minutes but would struggle with a rubix cube. 

VAL

Drawing, I’m pretty sure, is a canon hobby of his so I just imagine him studying Vox’s face and body to understand his weird ass proportions

You already know what his horny ass was thinking when he tried studying Vox’s lower body

Almost fried his brain trying to understand Vox’s TV screen

Usually his anatomy is incorrect with his shitty eyesight

Loves bold luxury

#alastor #vox #valentino #sir pentious #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel headcanon

[highonakuweeds]

The creatures in my walls think I’m going insane because I’m constantly shouting out, “what, bein’ a porn star?”

The main way I do my best to keep the characters in my fanfic in character is to say the lines in their voice. Like I will actively mimic their voices, accents and all (lol) if it doesn’t sound right in their voice, then I know they probably wouldn’t say it.

[highonakuweeds]

Mama's Boy (Alastor and motherly!reader)

(A/N: I would just like to add before this that mother deers like to clean their young to remove their scent from predators. And that Alastor is severely ooc here, no matter what I do)

POV: Reader is an overlord whose main schtick is mothering every. Single. Demon. In their path.

Your eyes scanned the outside of this Hazbin Hotel that some of the sinners were making fun of down on the street. “Redemption, my ass. I’d rather die a second time,” one of them remarked.

So, you helped them with their wish. They should be more careful about what they say, and you made sure to give them sufficient punishment.

How you reveled in their screams.

With a smile, you knocked on the door, politely waiting for someone to open it. They were muffled, but you could hear some shuffling and excited voices, squealing and giggling like a high school girl.

A woman with long blonde hair and a red suit practically swung the door open, the grin on her face twice as wide as yours. “Hi! I’m Charlie Morningstar; welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” You admired her eagerness and her energy, stepping into the threshold calmly. “(Name), darling. Pleasure to meet the owner of the hotel.” You put your hand out for her to shake, in which she accepted with a flustered smile. 

“Oh, thank you!”

You nodded at Charlie courteously before glancing around the interior; it could use some work, but it felt homey enough, nothing you couldn’t enhance.

You turned to Charlie, allowing yourself to speak before her. “Now, before you say anything, I’m not here to be a resident.” You noticed the way her face slightly fell, so you quickly added, “I’m here to assist you, sweetheart; don’t worry. I have…” You let out a deep breath. “Faith in your cause.”

At that, she beamed. “YES! Thank you so much! Who knows, maybe you could get redeemed, too!” 

You laughed at her words. “I think it would take more than just a simple helping hand to redeem me, but if that’s what you believe, then who am I to defy? You are the princess of Hell, after all.”

“Yes, thank you!” Someone with long gray hair and an “x” over their eye exclaimed, residing beside Charlie. “This is what I was talking about, Charlie; people don’t take your authority seriously!”

“Ooh, but it’s feels so mean to–”

The both of them realized that they left you hanging, and quickly shot you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. This is Vaggie, my girlfriend!” Charlie introduced, and you, in turn, shook Vaggie’s hand. You were surprised and quite pleased at how firm and secure she gripped your hand; it wasn’t new to you but it did feel good to know that there were people in Hell that could do such a thing.

“Hello, Vaggie. It’s nice knowing you.” You acknowledged before looking at the other sinners scattered around the first floor. “Would you mind introducing me to the others? I mean, if I’m to help here, I should know them, right?”

Charlie winced slightly at her forgetfulness and nodded. “Yes, of course, of course! This is Husk, our bartender,” she led you to the bar (which you were pleasantly shocked about; you didn’t realize that alcohol was allowed in being redeemed, but you assumed it was for celebrations) where a cat demon stayed behind the counter, cheap booze in his grip. He nodded at you respectfully, a gruff look seemingly plastered on his face.

Good God, he looked absolutely messy.

You couldn’t help yourself when you licked your thumb and pressed it against his fur. You tutted, shaking your head. “Take care of yourself, good sir! Looking good is one of the main aspects of self-sustenance.”

Husk hissed at you initially, though almost immediately, his tense body relaxed, slightly giving into your grooming. He noticed what you were doing just as quickly, though, and jumped out of your touch, a scowl on his face. “What the fuck was that!?”

“You had dirt on your face, sweetie; what was I supposed to do? Let it stay there?” You reasoned before sighing. You turned to Charlie, your voice coated in sincerity. “I apologize for interrupting you. Please, continue.”

She grinned at what you did to Husk before leading you to the parlor, where a lanky spider demon draped himself across the couch. “This is Angeldust, one of our residents!”

“Your only resident.” He corrected, sitting up properly (if you count the fact that his legs were on top of one of the armrests as “sitting up properly”, that is). 

You raised your eyebrows; this hotel continued to surprise you more. “Yes, I know you. You’re quite famous where I reside.” A small smile graced your lips to assure the porn star that you didn’t mean it in a degrading way.

“Woa-hoh, didn’t expect you to live somewhere where I’m famous but,” he shrugged, a small scoff escaping him. “Where am I not?”

At that you laughed, closed fingers covering your mouth. “I like your poise, Angel, dear. Please keep it up; you would’ve made your mother proud.”

He snorted at your words. “What, by being a porn actor?”

You shook your head. “By believing in yourself.”

It sounded corny, Angeldust knew that, but somehow it gave him a pang in his heart. He laughed, his grin turning genuine. “Thanks, toots.”

Charlie’s smile was practically blinding you as she attempted to contain her excitement. Though by the way she was holding back her jumping, she was failing. “You’re going to help so many people! Gah, you’re going to fit right in.”

You cupped your cheek in a slight flush, lips curled up bashfully. “Why thank you, dear Princess; such a charmer.”

Suddenly, a shadow traveled from across the room, and behind Charlie materialized a deer demon. She noticed his presence and turned to look at him. “This is Alastor!” She stepped back so that Alastor could shake your hand, and you were quite pleased by how he initiated it. “Our facility manager.”

“Pleasure to be meeting you, my dear, quite a pleasure! May I know your name?” He grinned (as if he wasn’t before), resting his hands on top of his microphone. You bowed your head courteously. “I’m (Name), darling.”

You glanced at his hair and sighed. “Your hair is going to irritate your face, Alastor.” You walked towards him until you two were close enough for your to touch his bangs, and the other two sinners you were with held their breath at it.

He tensed, sure, but as you swept his hair away from his eyes as much as you could, he let out a small chuckle. “You’re just like my mother, my dear.”

You quietly laughed at that. “Well, I do tend to exude a motherly attitude, according to some people. Hold still.” You did the same thing to Alastor as you did to Husk, licking your thumb and wiping his cheek. There wasn’t anything on it, but you felt the urge to do so.

Alastor’s smile softened, his brows knitting at your actions. “Do you do this with everyone?”

“More or less.” You placed your hands on your hips and nodded at yourself, proud of your own work. You clasped your hands, smiling as you glanced around again. “Well, I can’t wait to be a part of your team, Your Royal Highness!”

She blushed at your words, giggling slightly. “Please, just call me Charlie!”

“Whatever the princess says.”

It had been around 3 months since your unannounced and unsolicited aid, and so far everyone had been enjoying your presence. You would constantly cook for the hotel members alongside Niffty, that cute little thing that apparently cleans the hotel. You admired her ability to be able to take care of the majority of the house work, but you wondered how much she could actually take. Why not help her lessen the load?

You were also there whenever anybody needed some motherly advice, or a brutally honest opinion structured in constructive criticism. Charlie went to you the most about that matter, asking you what “exercises” the hotel staff + Angel should do to help them get redeemed. Vaggie would ask for your judgment about certain things, but more specifically about Charlie and how she could support her. They were incredibly tight-knit; it almost made you jealous.

Angeldust went to you to rant, your company too comfortable for him to not do so. You knew who Valentino was long before he started talking about him, but the more Angeldust talked to you about him, the more you wanted to discipline his moth ass. 

You found yourself attempting to groom Husk on multiple occasions, too. You would always have a handy brush by your side, ready to smoothen the knots and mats in his fur that would occur overtime. Husk used to try to stop you, but grew too fond of your care to give a fuck anymore.

The only person that hadn’t changed since your appearance was Alastor. He was always so polite to you, but kept his distance. As if you were just an acquaintance. 

You decided to pay him a visit.

You knocked on his door with one of your knuckles, your ear close to it. “Alastor, dear? May I come in?”

“Of course, (Name)!” You heard his muffled voice say, and with that you entered. You hadn’t ever been to his room before, so imagine your surprise when you saw the outdoors taking up half of his room.

“Is there anything you need?” He asked courtly, sat down on one of his cushioned chairs beside the fireplace. You shook your head, closing the door behind you. “Not necessarily,” you replied, tilting your head towards the chair across him as a silent way of asking. 

Alastor nodded, and with his consent you sat down, crossing your legs. “Then, may I ask why you decided to visit me?” 

You just smiled sweetly at him, your eyes sharply scanning his appearance. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m doing quite well, dear, thank you for asking.” He responded, his tone cheerful. But before he could reciprocate the question, you interrupted his attempt. “No, how are you feeling? Anything you need to…” you shrugged. “Get off your chest?”

His eye twitched at your words, and he strained a chuckle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my dear (Name); there is nothing to get off my chest!”

You nodded slowly, your brows creasing in fake thought. “Alright, then. So, your need to help this hotel and its cause not because of your own personal needs, like what you want people to assume, but because the others are slowly growing on you isn’t something you’d like to admit? To talk about, perhaps?”

Alastor immediately stiffened at your words, the atmosphere around the two of you suddenly thickening as your vision seemed to get darker. “Aha, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing in particular.” You grinned, a hand on your chest. “So, your fear of actually being vulnerable in front of people that could potentially be the death of you doesn’t sprout from something that happened when you were alive?”

His figure towered over you almost immediately, as if threatening you. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do, darling. You have much on your mind, and I can tell.” You blinked at him, unconvinced and unbothered, crossing your arms. “You were a mama’s boy, weren’t you?”

The air stilled around you as the demon that controlled it did the same thing. “I loved her dearly,” was all Alastor said.

“I know.” You softly replied, watching as his body morphed into its original state. “Do you miss her?”

He hesitated. Alastor shouldn’t be telling you all of this, and yet it felt right to do so. “I would kill to see her again, but I’m certain that she’s living the happiest afterlife in Heaven.”

You nodded in understanding. “I know. I’m sure she would want to see her son as well. I could tell just by how she raised you that she loves you as much as you love her.”

Loves. Present tense, not past. 

He laughed at your statement, sitting back down on his chair. “Would she love who I became?”

“Alastor, a mother’s love goes beyond everything else.” You stated, a warm smile playing on your lips. “You should know that. Was she a single mother?”

He scoffed at your assumption, his body slightly relaxing. “How do you seem to know everything?”

“Well,” you lifted your shoulders briefly. “One might say a mother knows all.”

Alastor’s laugh was bittersweet, his shoulder lifting at each chuckle. As it died down, though, you stood up, your arms opened wide.

He narrowed his eyes at you, his sincere smile straining. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, Alastor, you know what I’m doing.”

He froze, contemplating what he should do. He wasn’t fond of physical touch that wasn’t initiated by him, nor was he fond of people assuming he was. But your presence felt… different.

He sighed, shaking his head as he lifted himself off of the chair. “Alright, fine.”

If Alastor were to be honest, he had fully expected a half-hearted hug. He had just told you some vulnerable secrets, after all; maybe an embrace was obligatory afterwards. But as your hand cupped the back of his head gingerly as the other clinged onto his back, Alastor felt his heart sting.

He hadn’t felt something like that in decades.

He laughed faintly, his arms wrapping around your waist like a child whose mother had been on a trip for the past week. “You’re just like my mother, my dear.” He whispered, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I know.”

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor and you #reader is mother

[highonakuweeds]

silly tv man

[highonakuweeds]

FLFM (Part 5)

(A/N: will be continuing this on ao3 for the other parts :33)

Feign Lust to Fool the Masses

TAGS: fluff, reader is overworked and stressed, Vox is bad at feelings (and so is reader), denial is a river in Egypt

“This should be here.” You ordered, pointing at the newest product in the store before doing the same to an empty spot. Many sinners hurried to carry the things and place it where you told them to, not even a single peep in them. 

“That shouldn’t be there.” You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance; do people not know how to organize their damn shit? You glared at the crooked placement of one of the cardboard cut-outs of Valentino and the new love potion he had concocted with Velvette, your arms crossed. That was enough to make one of the demons that worked at Voxtek straighten it, fixing their posture as they looked at you for approval. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “That’s okay. Oh, dear,” your lips curled into a grimace, disgust clear in your eyes as you stared at one of the broken computers on display. “Is this really how things are run here? Dear God, you’re lucky you have many supporters, otherwise this would not fly.” 

Vox entered the shop with his usual grin, his eyebrows shooting up at your modifications of the place. “Hello, my dear (Name).” He called out, his smile slightly straining when you didn’t respond to him immediately.

“Uh huh yes hello, Vox, mi amor.” You acknowledged mindlessly, leaning forward to face a worker as they showed you a clipboard with loads of papers clipped on it. “Yes, that’ll do nicely; thank you.”

“I can see you’re busy.” He commented with a tight voice, looking around the bustling atmosphere of multiple sinners running around, trying to accommodate all of your commands. You replied to Vox with a sigh, muttering the demon you were talking to to leave you two alone. They nodded, and started walking towards one of the shelves, barking out the commands you fed them.

“What do you need, Vox?” You raised a brow as you crossed your arms, placing your weight on one hip. He studied your expression, and he found himself amused at your irritated demeanor today. Though, the more he read into it, it hadn't just been today; it had been the whole week.

“What,” he grinned, snaking an arm around your waist, making your eyes widen. “Am I not allowed to visit my so-called lover?” 

You tried your best to not let your flusteredness show. Your facial expression was filled with skepticism as you responded to him. “...What’s the occasion?”

Vox’s smile dropped ever so slightly when you didn’t give into his flirting, whether it be fake or not. But just as he was about to sigh and complain about that like a baby, you slid your arm up from his chest to his shoulder, your eyes traveling around his vest. “Seriously, what’s the occasion?”

He seemingly froze at your fingers playing with the lapels of his coat, before clearing his throat. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around.”

You blinked at him, slightly shocked and in disbelief that he noticed your absence. “...I’ve been busy doing my job.” You narrowed your eyes faintly so that only Vox could see it. Your hand was a contradiction to your look, though, as it slid to rest against the junction between Vox’s shoulder and neck. You didn’t even have to do it; you just liked seeing Vox squirm.

His shoulders stiffened at your hand before he rolled his eyes. “I know that. But why are you so busy?”

You pouted your lips at him, edges of your lips curling into a small mocking smile. “Aw, does someone miss me?”

“Very funny, (Name); answer my question.”

Your smile faded quickly into a frown of annoyance; this man has no humor. “Ever since the new edition of headsets dropped, people have been buying it in bulk, and I have no idea why. And other than that, the people working here are so incompetent—” You cut yourself off with a deep sigh, regaining your composure. “Just some problems stacking up on each other, nothing I can’t handle.”

Vox believed you could handle everything given to you with no question. Your words were as smooth as his when convincing the masses, possibly even a bit better. You were always calm and professional; he liked that about you.

But just that. Definitely. Probably.

“Get a room!” Someone who had just stepped inside the store exclaimed, making their friend nudge them, and mutter, “it’d be better if they did it right here.” 

“Oh, my fucking god you’re so right; that would be so hot.”

What the hell were they talking about? You wondered before you realized just how close you and Vox were, your bodies pressed against each other tightly. With slight heat on your cheeks, you quickly let go of him, and he hesitated to do the same. “Jesus.” You huffed out, an awkward smile adorning your face. 

“Yeah.” Vox nodded, glancing around. He cleared his throat once more, the signature charismatic smile on his screen. “Well, I must get going now; I have to calm Val’s ass again.”

You let out a short cackle before nodding, shooing Vox away. “Go, then, and good luck.” He turned his head to look at you, scoffing at your words. “You’re going to need it.”

“Bye, babe.”

“See you later, darling.”

Those call signs rolled off your tongue so easily with how many times you’d had to call Vox that over the course of now 8 months. His little nicknames for you used to get you so flustered, but now you really couldn’t care less. It was a part of your daily life now; might as well normalize it.

Dear God, he better not be a part of your daily life forever. You would hate that. Despise it, even. Right?

—

“Uhm, Ms. (Name)?” Peppermint called out from outside your door after knocking, making you look up from paperwork. “Yes, Pep? You may come in.”

He did as he was allowed to do, holding a cup of iced coffee. You smiled warmly at him, confused as you tilted your head. “I didn’t order coffee.”

“Sir Vox ordered it for you.” He informed you, placing it on your desk, far away from the papers. “Vox?” You echoed, shock clear on your face. “Did he tell you why?”

Peppermint shook his head. “No, ma’am. He only told me to give it to you, and according to him, ‘under no circumstances can she refuse’.” 

You glanced at the iced coffee, and scoffed; that sounded like Vox alright. “Thank you, Pep. And send Vox my gratitude.”

He nodded his head, and quickly left your room quietly. As soon as Peppermint closed the door, you whined, your forehead slamming onto the desk. What was Vox trying to do to your mind? 

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t give you lavish gifts all the time. But this coffee felt different, somehow. It was from your favorite cafe in Hell (it was rare to find such a beautiful and cozy place in the underworld); you weren’t sure how Vox knew you liked the place, to be honest. It had been a while since you paid it a visit. 

You gingerly held the cup, the condensation wetting your palms. He even knew your usual order there, too. You took a sip of it, immediately sighing in relief when you tasted that familiar feeling of comfort. It was quite funny to you, how expensive bracelets and dresses didn’t phase you but a singular coffee made your undead heart flutter.

Maybe you were experiencing palpitations from the coffee; it had been ages since you’ve drunk your last cup. 

“Did she take it?” Vox asked, turning to look at Peppermint. His assistant glanced quickly at the cameras behind Vox; he was watching Alastor again. “She did, sir.”

“Good.” He turned back towards the mass array of cameras that showed the events of Hell in every angle, specifically towards the Hazbin Hotel (did they really think that would work? Fucking stupid.) After a couple of beats, Vox spoke again, his voice softer this time. “How is she?” “Still doing paperwork, sir.”

“It’s been 6 hours since she locked herself in her room.” Vox mumbled, using his hand to tell Peppermint to go away. He obliged and quickly left.

Vox had noticed the way you worked yourself to the bone, and it was beginning to concern him. Why the hell were you doing so much work? Fuck, why did you even have so much work? There are people in Voxtek for that reason! You didn’t have to do everything.

—

voxypoo

wear a comfortable dress later

go to the third floor in an hour

You heard a notification ping from your phone, making you rip your eyes away from the countless amount of paperwork you had on your desk. Jesus, even in Hell you can’t escape it. 

You tapped on the screen to check who it was: Vox. He was telling you to basically dress up and meet up with him. You rolled your eyes, typing:

You

im busy

voxypoo

i dont care

see you babe

Your mouth went agape at his boldness; who the fuck does he think he is, bossing you around like this? And why were you actually going to follow him?

You stood up from your desk, wincing when your whole lower body pricked from you sitting down for too long. The paperwork can probably wait. Sure, you’d have to spend approximately another hour or two on it if you neglected it now, but you can sacrifice a bit of your time; you had all the time in the world.

Literally. You cannot die naturally since you’re already dead.

You slipped on the most comfortable dress you could find: a simple maxi dress with sleeves draped down and hugged your wrists. 

You tied the bow that acted as a belt around your waist, its color the same as the dress as a whole: a deep teal. You had it even before your whole charade with Vox, and you figured it was the best fit for this surprise occasion.

You took the elevator to the third floor, your high-heeled foot tapping on the floor of it. You had to admit, you felt like you were about to vomit at the anxiety this stupid surprise was giving you. 

With a ding, you reached your destination. The doors opened to a dimly lit room, the main focus of light being a candelabra situated in the middle of a relatively large dining table. Soft jazz played all across the room, making you feel so disgustingly fuzzy inside.

You almost laughed when you saw Vox not in his usual outfit. It was something a bit more formal, the red and black vest of his daily suit replaced by a deep blue waistcoat and a red and black tie. At least he still had his signature color palette.

“What’s all this?” You asked, skepticism thick in your voice as you walked slowly towards him, taking in the whole atmosphere. Vox rolled his eyes when he heard your doubt, putting his hand out in front of you for you to hold.

“You need to relax,” was all he told you, practically forcing you to sit down on the seat across his. Vox nodded at someone you couldn’t see, and in a snap, multiple waiters swarmed your table, one filling your glass with red wine, another placing a napkin on your lap, and one more laying down a plate of steak in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in alarm and shock at the sudden actions, your eyes darting to Vox. He had such a cocky grin on his face; what would happen if you grabbed the fork that was to your left and stabbed his screen? You’ve always wanted to do so.

Vox had probably noticed the way your fingers itched towards the fork, and he showed you his hands as a way of telling you to calm down. “Relax.”

You let out a short laugh at his words, sighing in relief when the waiters left you two alone. You leaned against your chair’s backrest, tilting your head. “Why do you want me to do so so suddenly?”

Vox seemed to be at a loss of words, his brows twitching as he tried to formulate a sentence where it didn’t sound like he was in love with you. He wasn’t, and there was no reason for him to act when it was just the two of you. He only arranged this “date” to help you destress, and to not possibly blow up on random people.

“You just looked like you needed it. Now,” Vox started to slide into his steak, looking down at it before glancing at you. “Tell me about your day.”

What the fuck?? “Uhm,” you’ve never really done this before. Talked to someone about your day. You always deemed it to be just a boring way of small talk. “I had to restock the shelves again, so that was a good thing. What wasn’t a good thing, though, was the fact that one of the newer interns literally fucking made a whole shelf fall down on themselves! I made them pay for it before immediately killing them; what I did was mercy, really. They would not survive outside. And…”

Vox nodded along as you passionately talked about your day like it was word vomit. He liked hearing your voice, how sometimes when your emotions were at a high, it would do the same; it was cute— entertaining. It was entertaining.

The minutes turned into hours, and your rants turned into conversations, Vox having to gasp for breath at how hard he was laughing. Without even knowing, the two of you had finished a bottle or two of wine in a snap.

As you spoke, you slurred your words, giggling without any real reason. Vox noticed how your eyelids drooped every now and then before they snapped open, your mouth saying some nonsense.

“(Name), dear.” Vox called your attention, his voice soft and low. You blinked quickly, tilting your head a bit too much. “Hmmm? Yessss?”

Fucking hell. “I think you should go to bed now.” He grinned, standing up and walking towards you to help you. You groaned loudly, your breath smelling of wine. “I’m not tired, though!” 

Vox rolled his eyes playfully, a soft smile on his lips. “Sure. And you didn’t just go through a bottle and a half of wine.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did. Now, let’s get you to your room.”

You smirked at him, pressing your body against his. “Oh, and what are you gonna do t’ me?” 

Vox stared at you, not even stunned by your comment. The elevator dinged and he practically dragged your ass inside. “I’m going to help you to your bedroom,”

“Yes…”

“I’ll lay you down on your bed,”

Your eyes gleamed in excitement. “Uh huh?”

“And then I’ll tuck you in; you need sleep. I haven’t seen you go inside of your room in a week.” Vox watched the numbers go up as the elevator did the same thing. He grinned when he saw you pout and whine, slightly stomping your feet. 

“Don’t raise my hopes up like that!” You gripped onto his arm for dear life. The last amount of control you had over your mind was screaming at you to not let go, otherwise you would fall down. 

Vox scoffed, his vision following the opening doors. “I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re drunk.” Not without your previous consent. 

“Why not!?” You whined, yawning afterwards.

He just laughed, shaking his head. “You are in desperate need of some rest. Did you know you haven’t stepped foot in your bedroom for around a week now? I’m concerned for you. I’ve…” Vox sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist before averting your gaze, glancing around your bedroom. “I’ve missed you.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds before laughing, using your pointer fingers to poke his waist. Fuck, how did you still remember the fact that he was ticklish there? “Ooooh, you missed me!” After a few bubbled laughter from you and a couple of “stop it”s from Vox, you sighed, staring into nothing that particular. “I missed you, too.” 

Vox’s smile faltered. You were just drunk; you didn’t mean that. He laughed softly, sweeping you off your feet. You yelped at his action, huffing when he threw you on the bed. 

“Rest, my dear (Name).” He told you, and you suddenly felt the need to do so. Or maybe it was just because he reminded you of your sleep-deprived schedule. 

You sighed into the pillow, nodding. “Okay…”

You closed your eyes, only realizing now just how heavy your eyelids were. Vox’s chuckle echoed in your mind as he pulled your covers over your shoulder. His hand hesitated every so slightly as you felt its warmth hovering your cheek before he cupped it, his pinky grazing over your jaw. “Good night, (Name).”

You could’ve sworn you said it back, but at that point in time your consciousness was already slipping away from you. Oh, well; it’s the thought that counts.

#vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #fluff #literally how tf do I tag

[highonakuweeds]

Feign Lust to Fool the Masses (part 4)

(A/N: Jesus mother of God, I'm at a loss of words)

TAGS: Masturbation (is it mutual if you don't really see the other one masturbating?), Voyeurism (again. Vox would have such a huge voyeurism kink), cameras, etc etc, Vox being a loud whore

“ Mr. Vox, Mr. Vox! Over here!”

“Ms. (Name)! Look this way, please!”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE YOU BOTH; VOX AND (NAME) FOREVER!!”

“Jesus.” You muttered through your teeth as you smiled at the cameras, a hand linked and hooked to your “partner’s”. The night was starting to turn the sky a dark red, and yet there were still so many damn sinners surrounding you two. He scoffed at your reaction to the crowd, not even looking at you as he entertained the crowd. “What, never had fans like this before?”

You rolled your eyes, your fake smile turning genuine. “No, actually. In fact, no one knew who I was until I met you.”

“Well then, you’re welcome, my dear.”

You could hear the smugness wrapping around his voice, teasing you. You nudged his side with the elbow that was already by his waist. Vox cursed under his breath as he twitched slightly, his body moving away from you. 

You damn near cackled in front of the mass amount of sinners that swarmed the bottom of the Vee Tower; you didn’t know he was ticklish. 

You turned to look at the crowd and waved at them, the smile on your face gleaming. Vox watched you as you riled the sinners up even more, actually getting more people to shout, “HOLY SHIT I LOVE YOU (NAME)!” or something along those lines. You knew how to handle a crowd and make people fawn over you just for your benefit, and Vox couldn’t help but be a bit impressed by your ability to do so.

Before having ever met, he never actually saw your face, just the products you put out to sell. Fuck, you didn’t even advertize or promote anything; it was like a soft launch. It was so horribly contrasting to how Vox usually does things.

So of course, he wanted to help you. He called you up one day and asked you a couple of questions concerning partnership. You were honestly surprised that he even found you to begin with, but with a bit of convincing, you had said yes.

From then on, Vox deemed you a great friend. Always reliable and there to help.

However, the more people “shipped” you two across social media platforms, the more disdain would show on your face whenever you’d see Vox. It was always subtle, but he could’ve felt it.

So imagine his surprise when you told him that you two should fake a relationship. At the time, he’d concluded that you did so in order to calm people down, but the announcement gave both of you more attention than ever.

Maybe that’s why you decided to keep this going for around 7 months.

Well, 7 months, 24 days, and 10 hours, but who’s counting? Certainly not Vox!

The original deal was to act like two people in love for around a year, just to see how the people would react. If it was positive, then they’d continue, but if it were negative, then they’d stop. A simple “it was a mutual agreement” kind of situation.

Though, Vox knew you wanted to break his screen with a fork if ever that happened. He always wondered, “why with a fork?” 

When the doors closed, Vox always kept on forgetting just how “on business” you were outside. As soon as some of the lower workers of the Vees closed the main entrance, you immediately detached yourself from him, calling one of the souls he owned with a nod.

He noted how you walked along with the newest intern, a clipboard in their hand as you talked. Vox always loved watching you and the way you did things; it was entertaining.

That’s all that was, though. Entertaining. In the sense that you’re able to command people with ease. Totally.

“Uh, sir?” Peppermint called out, catching Vox’s attention. “What?” He replied.

“We’ve got a hold of the newest batch of headsets…”

Vox always praised you for your ability to look a person straight in the eye, and yet whenever you’d listen in on his conversations with people, you never did. It freaked you out when you finally realized what you were doing, eavesdropping on someone you shouldn’t care about that way.

But the way he is without you around intrigued you too much. With you, he was so snarky, snapping at everything you say with the goal of pissing you off. But with others, he was more calm, collected, and dare you say, bored.

Your mouth was still running orders and suggestions to the intern, some of them not even making sense. They were new, after all; you wanted to see if they could take the pressure or not. But even with that, your mind drifted off to the very boring conversation that Vox was having with Peppermint.

They were talking about the newest model of headset that was going to launch in a week or two. You let the intern repeat all of your suggestions for confirmation as you scoffed slightly. People will buy anything if it’s new and shiny. It was really just the same thing with a teensy bit more quality.

Absentmindedly, you nodded at the intern, who then scurried off and left you with your thoughts. Ugh, being fake in front of everyone that supported you was such a chore; you just wanted to relax.

Maybe fuck yourself to, ya know, relieve some pressure.

You shut the door off your room with a heavy sigh, cupping your cheeks before dragging your hands down. You needed a good shower, and quickly. You had been out playing yours and Vox’s silly little game for around 10 hours, and you needed a break. From him or from the people, you didn’t know.

Nor did you care.

Hot water ran down your back and you let the slight sting of it hit you, a soft sigh escaping your lips. You wanted to take a nice, long bath tonight; why not add more to Vox’s water bill? 

Suddenly, you felt a shiver run down your spine, as if you were being watched. What the fuck? You opened your eyes to find a small red dot blinking slowly on the ceiling, and your shoulders dropped in exasperation; you weren’t even mad, just… done with life.

You know what? If Vox wants a show, you’ll give him a show. You hurried up your shower, rinsing the conditioner out of your hair before stepping out, grabbing the small towel that you knew barely covered you.

From the camera room, where Vox would usually stay, he had noticed the steam collecting on one of his CCTVs. It caught his attention, and he ripped his eyes away from Alastor, quickly widening them when he realized what was going on. He didn’t even know he had cameras in your room, in your bathroom, no less.

He shouldn’t be watching you, or the way your towel threatened to fall off as you dried your hair. But you were captivating, as much as he hated to admit. And the way you moved your body made him think you knew what you were doing. 

Vox stared intently at that one singular screen before you walked into the walk-in closet, showing you on a different camera.

He could’ve sworn you glanced at the CCTV before slipping the towel off, your skin slightly red from the heat of the water. It made you look so flushed and Vox so…embarrassingly hard. 

“Shit…” He muttered at his erection, barely taking a glance at it before he focused on you once more. 

You scoffed when you easily found the cameras both in the closet and in your bedroom; discreet is not a word in Vox’s vocabulary. You bent down to your drawer of underwear, making sure your ass was subtly facing the camera. Vox was a dirty man, you thought. But you liked indulging in that every now and then. Does that make you as dirty as him?

You huffed before deciding that maybe you shouldn’t wear underwear this evening. You could already feel the arousal of being watched making your cunt glisten, and spoiling another pair of underwear just felt like you were wasting clean clothes.

So, you rummaged through your drawers; you knew you had one of Vox’s shirts lying around. You figured that if you fucked yourself while wearing something his, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

You grinned when you found an oversized shirt with a few subtle hints at Voxtek, and honestly just from that, you knew it was Vox’s. You should thank Velvette for making these kind of shirts, though; Vox and Val tried to design a shirt once, and it was just screaming, “BUY SHIT AT VOXTEK LOOK AT US WOOOO”

But you digressed. You slipped it on with ease, Vox’s perfume wafting in the air around you. Maybe it was because you were tired, or maybe it was because you were so eager to mess with him, but the scent intoxicated you.

“Where the fuck did she get my shirt?” Vox mumbled, his chin resting on his palm as his fingers covered his mouth. He just wore that, too. He didn’t even blink when you walked towards your bed, but not before you grabbed something from your drawer.

Vox’s eyes widened when he saw the transparent dildo you had just pulled out, his gaze following every move you made. Jesus Christ, he shouldn’t be watching you doing this. But when you practically led Vox’s eyes to your bed, and let your legs spread, he couldn’t help himself. 

Your toy slid into you with ease, much to his and your surprise. A strained moan escaped your throat as you began to thrust it into you, your free hand covering your mouth. It didn’t stay long there, though, as it roamed to your chest, cupping and fondling with it. You pursed your lips at the thought of doing this in something that Vox owns, and ohfuckinggodyoucan’tbelieveyou’retouchingyourselfatthethoughtofVoxthat’ssofuckingdisgusting—

But you couldn’t help yourself. The hand that was gripping the dildo quickened its pace, a pace that you assumed Vox would set his mind to, and it gave you enough pleasure to go by. You stopped playing with your chest to press two of your fingertips against your slightly swollen clit, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

You cursed under your breath, the heat from your actions making your hair stick to your forehead slightly from the sweat. And yet even with the double stimulation, something didn’t feel right. 

You didn’t feel… full enough.

You whined, remembering how Vox’s cock twitched inside of you as you rode him. Even if you were in full control then, you literally had to fight to stay focused on breaking him. He made you feel so filled to the brim, even without his cum inside you, that he probably ruined every sex toy that included penetration. Fuck, he might as well ruined fingering for you, too.

Vox had to take deep and shaky breaths as you fucked yourself, his whole body tensing when he heard you moan his name out in a whisper. His eyes darted to the screen, and immediately as he did so, he felt his pants tighten to the point of pain. You probably didn’t even realize that you whined his name out so naturally, that his name rolled off of your tongue so easily, and that made Vox let out a short and somewhat nervous laugh, the room suddenly becoming hotter than it originally was.

He didn’t want to do what he was about to do; rather, he needed it. His dick was so hard under his pants that he was beginning to become genuinely uncomfortable. Vox’s hand palmed his clothed erection, causing a ragged and breathy moan to come out of his lips. Damnit, he hadn’t even done anything yet and he felt like he was about to burst.

Why was he getting off on this? He’d ask himself a million times, unzipping his pants and allowing his cock to spring free. His hand wrapped around the base of his erection, and he started to stroke slowly. Vox groaned at the feeling, imagining that his hand was yours instead.

Fucking Christ, why was he thinking such things?

He watched you, focused and unblinking, as his hand unknowingly quickened its pace. Vox’s breath hitched at the sudden change, a short moan leaving his lips. Shit, he didn’t even mean to do any of this, but at the same time he couldn’t stop. 

You knew that by now, Vox was probably fucking his hand to you. And you curse yourself at that imagery, gasping for air at the ungodly speed you thrusted into yourself. His name left your throat in quick and desperate moans, as if you were imagining him doing all of the things you were doing to yourself. At this point, the lines of you wanting to break him and you wanting to break yourself were so incredibly blurred; you couldn’t even tell what your intention was with this now.

All you did know was that you weren’t going to stop without making him finish at least once. And possibly you, too, in the process.

“Damnit, Vox, fuck me…” You dragged out the last syllable, ensuring that it was loud enough for the camera’s mic to pick up. “Shit, you feel so good. More, more–” You cute yourself off with a sharp whimper, your head falling back to your plush pillows.

Vox sighed shakily at your words, every single one of them going straight to his arousal. His hand sped up even more, the lewdness of his pre-cum slicking making him slightly embarrassed. He honestly couldn’t believe he was doing this. And he honestly couldn’t believe he was actually getting close.

“Fuck…” He muttered, squeezing his eyes shut to distract himself from the vulgar display you put on, in such a pretty angle on the CCTV, too. 

At that point in time, Vox had a hunch that you were doing all of this on purpose; you never really expressed any lust that didn’t have hatred entwined in it towards him. But with how close he was to his climax, he didn’t fucking care.

“Come on, (Name), come for me.” Vox’s voice rang inside of your head, and you gritted your teeth at it. It was so clear and so accurate that it actually did something to you, and you damned your godforsaken vivid imagination. 

The cord in your stomach was tightening as imaginary Vox spoke, though, so you knew just how effective his voice was to you. You uttered a small “damnit” before frantically rubbing circles against your clit, doing everything in your power to not squeeze your legs together.

You were actually nearing your high at the fictional voice of a  demon who you supposedly didn’t even like, and you tried your best to delay your orgasm. You truly did, and Vox could see the way you were struggling. It forced him to do the same; he couldn’t come before you for the nth time. His pride wouldn’t let him.

Cursed your damned mind. The Vox in your head chuckled softly before muttering a small “that’s my girl,” and that was all it took for you to break? Seriously? You’ve had multiple other sinners call you that, and you’ve never gotten off on the three simple words.

As you reached your climax, the sex toy in your cunt never stopped, even if your arm was burning from its pace. Something gushed out of your pussy, staining your mattress. You finally removed the dildo from yourself, and your back lifted off of the bed when the pleasure intensified.

Vox’s jaw tightened when he saw you cum, and he mumbled a small, “ thank fuck” before shutting his eyes closed, his hand sloppily picking up more speed. 

He came with a loud groan, which was then followed by a whine. His cum spurted in long strings of translucent white, making a mess of his hand and his pants, again. Seriously, he should really consider removing them before doing anything that concerned his dick.

Vox groggily opened his eyes, his tongue practically lolling out of his mouth as he panted. Every time he’d be thinking of you, his orgasms were always so intense. What the hell were you doing to him?

When his vision no longer had black dots dancing around, and when his ears had stopped ringing, you had already been cleaning yourself up, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaved for breath. The more he watched you basically do aftercare on yourself, the more he found you… cute. You were so gentle with yourself that it made him wonder if that’s how you wanted to be treated. Not even just in bed, but in general.

“Vox, it’s like 2 in the fucking morning. Can you actually shut your bloody mouth up when you masturbate!?” Velvette shouted from outside of his camera room, making him jump slightly. 

Oh, fuck; he forgot how loud he gets.

“Whatever.” He replied, sighing when he didn’t get one from Velvette; she probably already went back to her room.

Seriously, how much grip did you truly have on him? 

#vox #vox x reader #vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel vox #voyeurism #masturbation

[highonakuweeds]

Feign Lust to Fool the Masses (part 3)

(A/N: I can't believe this is still a consistent thing. Anyway, it's also on ao3 lolsies)

TAGS: Slight voyeurism, Virtual Reality, Oral sex (blowjob), voice kink (ish... reader just hatefully loves Vox's voice)

PART 1

PART 2

“Fu-hu-huck, ma’am, please– I-I’m sorry for not— ngh, goddamnit, I’m sorry for not paying more… attention to you…!” 

“What’s your name?”

“F-Fuck, I-I don’t—”

Vox listened to the leaked audio in slight horror, your deadpanned face not helping him. When the audio had reached the point where Vox started to come, he shouted loudly to cover it, snatching the phone from your hands and throwing it against the wall.

“Vox!” You exclaimed, a mischievous grin on display on your lips. “That was my phone.”

“I can get you another one,” he grumbled before sighing exasperatedly, seemingly averting your gaze. “Fuck, this is your all your fault!”

You scoffed at his reaction, exaggerated offense heard in every word you spoke as you placed a hand on your chest. “Excuse you, you were the one neglecting the end of our deal.”

“You were the one that literally fucked me in a public room!” He exclaimed, though you knew from his attempt to not smile at the memory that he quite enjoyed that. “You could’ve done it any other time, but of course you had to burst into a meeting, too.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Oh, please; it could’ve waited. Also this is a good thing!”

Vox looked at you like you were crazy for the nth time since you two had started to “date”. His brow quirked up, demanding you to elaborate.

Your shoulders dropped at his lack of a verbal answer before you sharply exhaled. “So, Valentino was actually the one who showed me the video.”

“...And why should I care?”

“Oh, my fucking god; it’s for context, dipshit!”

Vox shot his brows up in fake surprise as he placed his hands by his head in mock surrender. “Christ, okay.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you sat on his office’s table, just in front of him. You crossed your legs before looking at him, maintaining eye contact. No matter what the circumstances, you never avoided your eyes when speaking to people; Vox quite liked that about you.

“As I was saying,” you rolled your eyes at how Vox’s own traveled up and down your body, though not in the sexual way (that you would’ve wanted). It was that of annoyance, as if it were asking you why the fuck are you on my desk? “Val showed it to me all excited and shit. And I could get that, ya know, like he’s the biggest fucking pimp of all —though, a bad one; ya know, that Radio Demon, Alastor, could be a better pimp than hi—”

“Get to the point, (Name).” Vox flatly said before letting out a short laugh. “And I highly doubt Alastor would be a good pimp.”

“Well, you never know. Anyway,” you stifled a smile when you realized that you were, indeed, getting sidetracked. “Val proposed that I make a virtual reality wherein the user can either be me or you in a…” You cleared your throat. “Certain situation.”

Vox’s brows knit together, his eyes narrowing at what you’re saying. “...So, what you’re saying is…?”

“I made it, and I need a test subject.” 

At that, Vox’s eyes widened, skepticism evident in his features. “Why not Valentino? Wasn’t he the one that asked you to do this—”

“Listen, uh, it’s not just that. You being the test subject, I mean.” You took in a deep breath before hopping off of his desk. “I also, uh, need sounds. And I’m not saying I can’t make those out of artificial intelligence; you know damn well I can.” 

Vox snorted when he remembered that stupid cover you made of IT Girl by Aliyah’s Interlude using Alastor’s voice. When he first heard it, he was shocked at how accurate it sounded, from the accent to the radio effect and everything.

“But that’s not the point. Val specifically told me to ‘use authentic material’. So, I told myself, ‘why not kill two birds with one stone and just make Vox the test subject?’ Great idea, right? And it’s even better because you don’t even have to wear the headset because I can just connect your screen to the reality.”

Vox stayed silent, blinking as he either thought ‘what the fuck you were talking about’ or ‘should he do this’; you weren’t sure which one. But to your delight, he sighed, adjusting himself in his chair. “Fine.”

Your grin practically blinded him as you squealed. Fuck, he forgot how excited you’d get about your projects. “Great! Alright, stay still, okay? If you don’t, I might accidentally make a clone of myself.”

Vox stared at you in concern and confusion. “‘Clone of yourself’?-”

You only answered his question with a flick of your wrist, and suddenly all he could see was black. He cursed quite loudly at it in surprise, causing you to scoff. “Your vision’ll be back in a bit; calm your ass down.”

Just on cue, Vox could see his office again, but this time you were gone. “(Name)? Where’d you go—”

“You’re looking through the VR right now,” your voice echoed in his mind; it almost freaked him out. Vox’s eyes scanned the area, movement on his left making him more alert. 

He would’ve never admitted it to the real you, but his body relaxed when he realized that it was just you in the reality. “Hey, Vox…” ‘You’ dragged out, fully opening the door.

And when ‘you’ did, his breath almost got taken away from him. ‘You’ were wearing lingerie, laces and laces of black hugging your figure, the pattern barely covering your more provocative areas. The same lingerie that he had been subtly gawking at whenever he would visit your room. 

Well, it was on full display! What was he supposed to do, not stare?

‘You’ grinned, slowly walking towards him. Vox looked down at his body, his torso and such really his. His lips pursed softly; was the user in Vox’s body in this reality, or does it change accordingly?

“Hey,” ‘you’ lifted his head, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “Eyes on me, darling.”

“Oh, what the fuck?” Vox mumbled. “It’s great, right?” The voice of the real you echoed, and Vox could’ve sworn he’d heard your smile. 

Suddenly, Vox felt his pants tighten. ‘You’ faked a gasp before grinning. “Someone’s excited…”

What the fuck? Vox’s gaze followed ‘VR you’ as your hands gripped his thighs softly, your fingertips barely grazing his clothed erection. 

His breath hitched at the contact. Why did it feel like his libido was intensified? And why did he like the way it was?

Without warning, you ripped his pants open, seemingly ruining the zipper in the process. Vox’s somehow already fully hard cock sprang out, making you water at the sight. “Fuck, you’re so big.” ‘You’ whispered, one of the hands on his thighs softly wrapping itself around its base.

“Val wanted it to be so… sexy. Like, does he even know me at all—?” “Shut up.” Vox ordered, surprising himself at the conviction in his voice. 

The real you followed your command with a small, “fuck, okay.” 

What was that about? What am I doing? Why is this so realistic? So many thoughts ran through Vox’s head as the VR you continued to ogle at his cock, your hands stroking it from base to tip so painstakingly slow. 

And just as Vox was about to spiral into some sort of crisis, your VR version engulfed your mouth around the tip of his dick, immediately making his head fall back. 

Vaguely remembering what you told him, he didn’t control any of the noises he wanted to make. He didn’t force himself to quiet the soft groans that left his throat. 

Well, he did try to quiet down one thing, though.

His whines. His stupid whines that he always found himself doing no matter how intense the session. Vox couldn’t think straight when you rode him like there was no tomorrow, so of course whimpers and whines would find their way out of him somehow. But now, he had control over his body. Himself.

“Vox…” You in the reality pouted, removing your mouth from his cock with a pop. Your chin was dripping with his pre-cum and your (was it really yours if you didn’t make it ???)  saliva, a thin string of it connecting your bottom lip with his tip. Fuck, he shouldn’t like the look of that. “Don’t stop yourself from making those noises. They’re so fucking…” You kissed his tip, which made his dick twitch, and you smiled at the reaction. “Hot. They make me so wet.” 

As you licked a stripe from base to tip, you moaned, and Vox had trouble keeping his composure. Why is this so hot to him? This shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be enjoying this—

A dragged out groan escaped from his throat, followed suit by a small whine. He physically cringed at the noise; it sounded so pathetic.

‘You’ grinned around his dick, his tip already hitting the deeper part of your throat. The back of his hand flew to his mouth at the enhanced pleasure. Did you add the fact that the user would have a bigger libido or something? 

“I did,” your voice rang in his mind. At that, Vox’s eyes widened. “You can hear my thoughts?” 

“I can.” Damnit, he could hear that stupid smile on your face. “Now, shut up and focus on the VR.”

Vox rolled his eyes, his lips parting to sigh in exasperation. That soon changed into something more sultry, though, as ‘you’ started to bob your head around his cock, the lewd noises of slurping and slick filling up the room.

He practically laughed at how good everything made him feel. You programmed this world so well that he had momentarily forgotten that it wasn’t real, and Vox had to give you that.

His hand naturally went up to tangle in your hair, now guiding ‘you’ to deepthroat him deeper. “Fuck, that’s so warm.” He whimpered, now not caring about his noises that he would normally be embarrassed about.

From outside of the reality that Vox was in, you couldn’t help but stare at the way his pants were stained and slightly soaked with pre-cum. You didn’t want to tell him that clothes don’t alter when and like it does in the VR, and that he should’ve removed his pants first. 

But honestly, the way he was losing his mind while still technically clothed made you as aroused as him.

You had to admit, adding in the heightened libido wasn’t supposed to happen; you knew that the horny people of Hell could already make themselves wetter than the biggest ocean on Earth if they had you or Vox slotted in between their thighs. However, you just wanted to see how Vox would react to it. See how his cocky facade unraveled at ‘your’ mouth.

And you didn’t even realize that he noticed that lingerie Velvette gifted you. Fuck, you were glad he didn’t see that half of your closet was provocative clothing, most of it not even bought by your own money.

You had to hand it to him, though, he had good taste. Out of all of the pieces that Velvette or Valentino (or even some fans) had given you, that one was certainly your favorite. That’s why it was displayed so nicely.

Vox’s whines snapped you out of your thoughts, and you cursed at yourself softly when you felt his voice travel to your arousal. He really needed to stop muffling his moans; they were too cute for you to ignore.

“Shit—” Vox muttered shakily, his eyes squeezing shut even more. ‘You’ felt his cock twitch inside of his mouth, and moaned, the vibrations going to his head. “Goddamnit, (Name), I’m close; what the fuck?”

He couldn’t believe himself. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going to cum just because of some stupid game you were playing in his head. When he partnered up with you initially, he knew you had power over sinner’s brainwaves or whatever bullshit you said, but holy fuck, did he underestimate just how much you could alter.

A soft, high-pitched whimper made Vox cringe at himself; he knew that the real you could hear him, and that you were probably not going to let him forget it. Shit, he was so close that he practically hurt; he couldn’t take it anymore.

Vox finally took the liberty of gazing down at the way ‘you’ let his hand push your head further down on his cock, and that was just enough for him.

He finished with a small cry of your name, a string of curses and groans (and mewls, but he would never admit that) succeeding it. 

‘You’ drank up his warm cum without question, maintaining eye contact as he hazily looked at you. Fuck, you even got your eye contact down. You knew how alluring that was to him. You knew what you were doing.

From your perspective, a splotch on Vox’s pants appeared as he came, his hips stuttering his other hand gripped his armrest for dear life. Your whole mouth felt dry, as if you were watching something that you shouldn’t.

But you had to be in the same room Vox would be in; you couldn’t just leave him alone. You had data to collect, and you had to ask for his evaluation later on.

You grimaced as you felt the slick collecting and sticking onto your panties. You’ve already accepted that Vox’s voice had some sort of grip on you, but you never realized it was to this extent.

Vox’s high left him as he closed his eyes in the reality, his chest rising and falling to collect his breath. With a flick of your wrist once more, his eyesight blurred slightly as it got used to actual reality.

“Holy fucking shit,” was all you said to him as he regained a bit more consciousness. Vox immediately got ticked off by it, sitting up straight in his office chair. You put your hands in the gap between you two, as if to tell him to stop. “Calm down, calm down. I’m just surprised it actually worked so well.”

You clicked the pen in your hand before writing something down in your clipboard; why you got it, he didn’t know, nor did he care. Vox passed air through his lips before noticing how uncomfortable his pants felt. He glanced down, his jaw dropping when he realized that he just came in his pants. “Why and how the fuck are my pants still on?” He raised his voice, his jaw tightening in annoyance when you didn’t even spare a glance at him.

“You were supposed to remove them beforehand. Now,” Vox furrowed his brows as he looked at you, baffled. Flabbergasted, even. How do you not tell him before he fucking came? “Are there any modifications needed in the reality given?”

Oh, so we’re going to be professional about this, okay. “Well, VR (Name)’s teeth grazed the head a couple of times, so there’s that. Also, it would be better if VR (Name) stripped—”

“Moving on,” you grumbled, clearly annoyed, which earned a snicker from Vox. “But other than those two factors, everything was near-perfect. The model, the noises, the eye contact,” your brow quirked up subtly when you heard Vox mention “eye contact”. Was he really aroused by the bare fucking minimum of a professional meeting?

“I say this is good to go.” Vox concluded, making you nod. “Alright, then,” you stood up, stifling laughter at the wet spot on his pants. “You look like you peed yourself.”

Vox’s calm demeanor immediately broke as he glared daggers at you. “Shut the fuck up! You didn’t tell me that I had to remove my damn pants.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling at his weak attempt to defend himself. “Whatever.” You started to walk towards the door of his office, hesitating as you placed a hand on the doorframe. “You want me to get you a new pair?”

Vox’s screen slightly showed shock; it was barely noticeable, but it was there. You never actually helped him in any context. “Uhm, sure.”

You turned your head, looking back at him with a smile. “I’ll be back in 5.”

#vox #vox x reader #vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel vox #blowjob #voyeurism

[highonakuweeds]

Feign Lust to Fool the Masses (part 2)

(A/N: This might end up being a full on fanfic. What. Additionally, I wrote this on a whim and so if there are mistakes I apologize in advance) (I also had Horny, Angry Tango on loop the whole time writing so...)

PART 1

TAGS: knife kink, slight masochism, orgothumophilia (kink of having someone getting mad at you), riding, multi orgasms, somewhat public sex, Vox is fucked dumb, dom!reader (somewhat),

A month. It had been a month ever since that risky escapade and it seemed like it only weakened your relationship.

Vox barely talks to you about it, or just in general, for that matter. It was like he was so incredibly immersed with his work, that he had just forgotten that he needed to be immersed with you. 

Not that you cared, though. Your relationship with Vox was just to gain more power. 

To fool the people, right? Right.

But even with that fact engraved in your head, imagine your anger when you heard from Peppermint (Vox’s assistant; sweet little thing) that your so-called lover had been having private sessions with some of the lower employees of Voxtek. Now, that was just plain stupid. He was already in a “relationship” with one of the more powerful overlords in Hell; what more does he need?

Was that night really not enough for him?

Nevertheless, nothing and no one stopped you from storming into one of Vox’s conference rooms with a knife in your hand, not even Val nor Velvette. Though, you saw from your peripheral vision that they were betting on what would happen, whether you would kill him or fuck him.

At this point, you were perplexed between the two emotions.

“Vox!” You exclaimed, bursting through the door. His subordinates all nervously glanced at you as their lips sealed themselves shut, leaving the room silent. 

Your “partner” quirked a brow up, pure blankness written all over his face. His expression ticked you off, and at that moment, you could’ve broken apart the door frame. “Out, everyone.” You demanded, causing the others to look around the room and at each other, confused. 

“Out!” You barked out, your grip against the glass door making it shatter inside of its lamination, creating cracks that spread from your hand to its hinges. 

All of them immediately scrambled out, picking up their things and scurrying outside of the same door you practically broke. Vox calmly stood up, but just after he gripped his armrests to stand up, you pointed at him. “Not you.”

“Fucking Christ, okay.” He mumbled, sitting back down with knitted eyebrows and a baffled smile. 

Vox patiently (which was unusual of him) stared at you as you waited for everyone to leave, a slight bit of your true demon form slipping through the facade of the more socially acceptable one. He watched as you took a deep breath, arms crossed, before storming towards him, your jaw gritted and your glare enough to kill a million sinners all over again.

Frankly, it turned him on.

“You.” You spat out, jabbing a finger in his chest. His smile angered you even more; it was so innocent yet so mischievous you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off of his face with your knife. “Do you not realize what you’re doing right now?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper, but with how close your faces (well, face and a screen) were, it was loud in Vox’s mind. “Enlighten me.” He calmly said; he’s never actually been this calm, honestly. It surprised him, too.

But seeing your blood boil because of his words was too entertaining to not give up being dramatic; he wanted to see you livid. 

You looked at him like he was crazy. Well, maybe he was, trying to provoke you like this, but you didn’t seem to notice it. “The public has barely seen us together now. Do you seriously not keep yourself updated in what they say? Isn’t that what your whole fucking brand is about? Appeasing the masses with what they want to keep your power?”

Usually, he would be incredibly insulted by those words. Normally, he would have the sinner killed in just a snap; he had the power to do so, anyway. But the way your brows scrunched with your nose, or the way your lips curled into a snarl as you poked at his chest? He couldn’t kill that face.

And fuck, your words were like drugs to him, intoxicating him, pushing him farther away from better judgment. Vox wanted to prod and taunt you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Vox feigned his ignorance; he loved doing that, as it seems. You grinned manically, scoffing before lifting him from his chair and throwing him onto the carpeted floor. The grunt that forced itself out of his mouth wasn’t enough, so you placed your foot against his chest, looking down at him as if he were just some lowly scum.

Maybe he is.

“Cut the shit, Vox.” You spat his name out like it was venom you needed to remove from a wound, and only then did Vox notice the knife that your hand gripped tightly. His shock was barely noticeable, but it was there. “You haven’t done anything to calm them down. Do you know what they’re saying, hmm? That they thought we’d broken up because we aren’t seen together anymore? That it ‘might be the end of an era’?” You mocked their comments, their words seemingly stuck in your head.

As you derided, your hands placed themselves beside your face, the knife glinting from the white lights of the room. And just before Vox could even process what was going on, the same knife was now held up against his neck, the sharp side pressed against where his screen and his neck connected. 

“And I heard from a little birdie you were cheating. With lower sinners, to make matters worse.” You practically growled.

Vox couldn’t contain his excitement anymore, and neither could his pants, his cock straining against it wildly. He grinned at you, his eyes wide with adrenaline. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” 

Well, that caught you off guard, and it caught him off guard, as well. He was thinking it, yes, but it never crossed his mind that he would actually say it out loud. 

“You think this is a fucking game?” Your voice sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted to feel more of it. Wanted his skin to vibrate so violently, and the only way he could actually have that sensation was from you and you alone.

Fuck, you two weren’t supposed to actually like each other. Or he wasn’t supposed to, at least. It was just supposed to be business; the romantic aspect was only supposed to cover that up—

Oh God, what was Vox doing? What was he thinking? Is he going to regret this the next morning? Is he going to regret grabbing a fistful of your top and kissing you, his tongue immediately curling around yours?

Your nose smacked against his screen at his sudden movement, and you grunted at that as your leg removed itself from his chest, but you seemed to ignore that. Matter of fact, it seemed like you cared more about the knife against his neck, since you pressed it harder against it, the fabric of his high collar already ripping at its contact. Your knife’s pressure wasn’t enough to break skin, but goddamnit did Vox want that to happen.

Wait, was Vox getting even harder at the idea of you killing him? That’s a fucking kink he didn’t know he had.

You knelt on him, your thighs straddling his own. You grunted as he began to grind against you, his grip on your top finally loosening so that his hands could cup your head and tangle themselves in your hair. 

You were the one that parted from the kiss, but that was only to catch your breath. You sneered at him, your hands already working to remove his pants and other garments in that area. “I fucking hate you, Vox. You’re doing all of this shit to rile me up. You think I don’t see you and your stupid tricks that you fucking do to make me even more furious?” With an easy rip, Vox’s pants were shed off of him, the cold air of the conference room hitting his hard cock.

“And yet you still give into it, my ‘tricks’.” He taunted, the signature blood dripping from his mouth as he grinned, trying to prop himself on his elbows. You had stopped him from doing so, though, with a hard shove. “Oh shut the fuck up,” you retorted, sliding your undergarments to the side and aligning your hips with his. 

Vox watched in slight awe and disbelief; are you really going to fuck him in the conference room?

“I’m going to ride you so fucking hard, the only thing you’ll be able to say at the end of this are strings of apologies, begging me to stop.”

Oh fuck, that made his cock twitch.

Vox snickered, his brows furrowing in determination. “Try me, (Name).”

You scoffed at his challenge, not even thinking properly before sinking down on him with such force. You immediately regretted it, of course, the sharp pain of not allowing yourself to adjust sending bolts to your brain as if they were laughing at you, asking, “are you fucking stupid?”

Or maybe that was Vox you heard. His laughter, you meant. He started to snort at the way you winced at his cock, and you scornfully glared at him. “Not. A fucking. Word.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied sarcastically, making you look at him with such misfit, a cold droplet of sweat went down his back.

“I’m going to make you actually call me that, just you fucking wait.” You snarled before slowly bouncing on him.

Vox’s head (screen. I’m sorry; I’m not letting you guys forget he has a screen for a head) fell back as you did so. He had forgotten that after his decision to destroy you at Velvette’s ball, he didn’t really fuck around, contrary to your belief.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure where you got that information.

Basically, he was just as sex-deprived as you were. Work had consumed him so much that he didn’t have any time to grip his own dick with his hand and give himself a quickie. Just so many annoying people that decided causing a ruckus was the right way to get his attention, so many times did he have to calm Valentino’s ass down.

It was obvious that he desperately needed his tension to be relieved, and he was as relieved as the pleasure you were giving him when he finally understood that you needed it, too. 

Well, with you already knowing what fucking his cock was like, you couldn’t really satiate your sexual urges with other people, right?

Your grunts and groans snapped him out of his daze, your hands grasping handfuls of his vest as you shut your eyes. The pace you set was already starting to intensify, Vox had to admit that he was slowly losing his mind here.

A whine that he didn’t know he could even make escaped his lips, his eyes already half lidded. “Fuck, (Name), what are you doing to me?” He muttered, praying to whoever that could listen that you didn’t hear it.

But of course, God would never listen to a demon’s prayers. You cackled, grinding in between every bounce. His legs spasmed at the sudden addition to the pleasure, your voice fogging his brain up. “Someone giving in already? Didn’t you tell me that I was the one who’d forget their name? What happened to that, Vox? What happened to your charismatic, cocky, facade?” 

“Shut up.” He grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on something else; he can’t let any noises come out of him, nor can he let himself cum so easily.

But fuck, it’s been a month. A month of frustration and dreams that he had of you every night where he would fuck you everywhere you two went: his office, his bed, his bathroom— shit, he’d even fantasized while mindlessly listening to the news reporters that he had you babbling on his cock in one of the balconies of the Vee Tower, for everyone to watch, and— oh no. No, no, no, no—

“Fuck!” He shouted out as he felt himself cum inside of you, causing you to fake a gasp at his actions. But just because he had cum, doesn’t mean you were going to stop any time soon. “Vox! Already? It’s barely been 10 minutes.” You provoked, the grin on your face making him purse his lips in slight anger and embarrassment. 

“Is it my fucking fault that you’re so tight— shit.” He cursed under his breath, which was already running away from him. He could feel the way you used his cum as a lubricant, the wet, lewd noises of skin slapping making him moan.

Half of these noises you had him make, he didn’t even know he could, so props to you, he guessed.

The noises you made, however, were quieter than his, a contrast to the first time you two had ever done anything like this. You were so good at controlling yourself, like the idea of Vox being the one fucked dumb was keeping your mind from being clouded by concupiscence. The same kind of lust that was blurring the lines of rational and irrational in Vox’s.

Wait, no— goddamnit—!

Vox hated his mind and how it fixated on your soft vulgar sounds; it had just made him cum for the second time in a row. 

Your eyes widened when you felt the warm liquid splash around your walls, a shit-eating grin adorning your face. “Did you just cum again? Vox, have some self control! Fucking pervert!”

Vox stared at you like you were crazy, trying to avoid glancing at the way your body bounced up and down. “I’m the pervert? You’re —fuck— the one riding me in a public room!”

You laughed at his words, as if his meek attempt at trying to irritate you even more was barely working anymore. “You’re the one enjoying it.”

Though, just because something is barely working, doesn’t mean it doesn’t entirely.

Vox noticed the way your legs were shaking, your chest was heaving, your bottom lip was quivering. He noticed everything about you. And when you practically slammed your hips against his, he knew that you were incredibly annoyed at his words.

Yet he couldn’t snap back with something snarky; he was already slipping away from reality and into the pleasure and bliss (and borderline pain, honestly) you were providing him. He felt his throat vibrate as the moans and groans he could no longer force to be silent escaped him, his chest desperate for breath.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck were you doing to him?

“What’s your name, dear?” You asked, your voice as sweet as honey mixed with the most dangerous poison there was on both Hell and Earth combined.

Vox had to think before replying. “You know damn well it’s V-Vox—”

You groaned in annoyance, gripping the knife you placed beside Vox’s body. “You haven’t broken yet. You know,” you leaned closer so that his chest was pressed against yours, allowing the head of Vox’s cock to reach an even deeper part of you. “You’re much more resilient than I thought you’d be.”

He slipped out a small whimper at the overstimulation; everything was too much. And when your cold hand skillfully untied his bow, which was then replaced by the cold metal of the knife, he couldn’t help himself again.

With a choked grunt, he finished inside you for the 3rd time, his whole body twitching at how warm and tight you were against his overly sensitive cock. “Fuck, damnit, (Name)—” He whispered, his voice already hoarse at how much air passed through his mouth.

“You’re the fucking freak now.” You taunted, your pace still unforgiving, not an ounce of mercy resting within your soul to give him a damn break. “You’re the one that came because a knife was against their neck, not me.”

His stomach flipped at your words in embarrassment; shit, he did just cum at that. Yet how come he wasn’t as ashamed as he really should be at that thought?

“(Name), the game’s o-over.” Vox tried to reason, attempting a small grin on his face. It was quivering just as much as his body was, but he tried to not let it show. “I-It’s— oh, fuck!”

“What was that?” You mindlessly, breathlessly asked him, your hand slipping under his vest and dress shirt. Your cold hands toyed with his torso, your thumb barely grazing against his nipples. 

He cursed at himself when he whined at the sudden contact, his back arching off the floor. “N-Nothing—” “Tell me what you were going to say, dearie.” 

Goddamnit, you were trying to make him speak now of all times? He could barely even hold his thoughts together, and he knew if he didn’t answer you, he wouldn’t even be able to properly formulate sentences.

As if he can now.

“It’s-” Vox sighed, hearing his own undead heartbeat pounding. “L-Let’s think about this, (Name)—!”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You slowed your pace down, making him choke down a whine; he was getting so close again. “Try again.”

Try again? What the fuck did that mean—

Oh.

Oh no.

Vox gritted his teeth before responding tightly, his words coming out dry and rough. “Please, ma’am. I-I’m sure you’ve had your fun, but I had a meeting… before this…!”

You tilted your head, your eyes half lidded. If you were to be honest, you were trying everything in your power to not think of the cum that filled you inside; Vox honestly wasn’t lying when he said he could fuck you dumb. “What was the meeting about, huh?”

Oh, shit, Vox couldn’t remember. “W-Well—”

“Can’t remember, can you?” You grinned, removing the knife from his neck and straightening your posture to get more force in bouncing. “What’s your name?”

Fuck, it was that question again. It was that question, and Vox was having a harder time answering it. He knew what he was supposed to say, but somehow it was rolling off of his tongue like it used to. “V-Vox, ma’am—!”

“A shame, really.” You sighed, though it came as small hiccups from the way you were riding him. “Oh, I know!” You stared at Vox with a grin that he didn’t even know you could do. “I’ll make you cum one more time, and—”

“No!” He cried out, gasping for breath. His screen glitched as he talked, making his voice break with it. “Please, I can’t take one more–”

“Oh, but you can.” Vox heard the soft noises of wetness from your grinding before it went back to the slapping of skin, making his groans turn into whines. “And you will for me, won’t you, darling? To fool our supporters? Our patrons?”

God, Vox remembered the reason why all of this started in the first place. He opened his mouth to say something smooth, but the only thing that slipped out of it were pleads. “Fu-hu-huck, ma’am, please– I-I’m sorry for not—” He keened when he felt that familiar knot in his stomach, warning him about what was to come (badum tss). “Goddamnit, I’m sorry for not paying more… attention to you…!” 

The more he talked, the quicker you set your pace, your head nodding as he talked. And the more you quickened, the more pitiful apologies left him, his screen dim and glitching violently.

“What’s your name?” You growled lowly, and for the first time in his fucking life, he could not remember.

“F-Fuck,” he racked his brain for anything. Any answer he could give you that sounded believed, but he was met with nothing. “I-I don’t—”

“You don’t remember?” Your voice was full of frenzy and joy as you finished his sentence for him. You leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on his neck, which was now coated with a thin sheen of sweat. “That’s a good boy. Oh, how the tables turned, no?”

You drank up the way he was quite literally fucked up under you; it gave you such a power surge, and he didn’t realize how much of your ego was being fed just by his appearance alone. 

“G-Gonna…” Vox trailed off, a long dragged out cry being forced out of his throat. It was so pathetic; it was so hot. 

“Go ahead, Vox.” You cooed. Ah, that was his name. 

With your voice, he unraveled under you, his guttural cry music to your ears. 

He painted your walls white for the fourth time that day, his cock eagerly twitching inside of you. This time, however, you had stopped bouncing to catch your breath and to let the adrenaline subside. 

Without warning him, you lifted your hips up, making his cock slide out of you. Vox gasped at the loss of warmth, whining slightly.

You gaped at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. You actually did it. You fucked him dumb.

Other than the pants and small whines from either you or him (but mostly him), silence encompassed the conference room. But just as you were about to try and stand up, Vox’s rough voice caught your attention. 

“I never fucking cheated, by the way,” he said through breaths. “I have no idea who gave you that idea; I would never do that to ruin our reputation.”

“Wait, but–” you cut yourself off, finally connecting the dots.

Peppermint heard that from Valen-fucking-tino. 

“Oh, my god.” You practically laughed out, finally standing up properly. Your hand shakily gripped the conference table for balance as your free hand straightened any wrinkles from what just happened. “That makes more sense.”

“What does—”

“It’s none of your concern.” You said before clearing your throat and running a hand through your head. And just as you were about to walk out of the door, Vox finally put his body weight on his elbows to look at you. 

“Aren’t you going to help me—”

“Nope, still mad at you.”

“Okay.” Vox sighed, grumbling a “fucking bitch” as you left. 

Instead of insulting you, though,  it made you smile.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader smut #fucked dumb #knifeplay #degradation #semi public sex #dom!reader (ish)

[highonakuweeds]

Bloodlust (Alastor x on their period!reader)

(A/N: This is a teensy bit self-indulgent, and also I had no idea where this was going to go halfway through, so if things don't make sense... yes they do)

TAGS: Bondage, blood kink, breeding kink, cunnilingus, anything Alastor honestly, a bit of masturbation

You’re not even sure how this happened. How you had two fingers running in and out of your bloodied pussy, on your second day of all days. Normally, when you were on your period, the cramps would consume you, especially during the first three days when the flow was heavy. But this month was different. Instead of being frustrated because of small things that ticked you off, you were frustrated because of… something else entirely. 

You choked back a moan as the pads of your fingers hit your g-spot for the nth time, forcing the edge of an orgasm again. A whine escaped your lips as it started to recede; you couldn’t seem to get yourself over the edge.

With groggy eyes, you checked the way your fingers slipped inside. Your breath instantly left you as you realized just how covered they were, whether it be with your blood or your juices, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t care, either.

You weren’t quite sure if you heard the door open or not, but with how muffled your hearing had started to become just a couple minutes before, you decided to ignore it. That is, until you saw a glimpse of near-red hair.

You immediately slide your fingers out of yourself, and sit up on your bed, wiping the blood off on the towel you laid below you beforehand. “A-Alastor! Hello, hi; why- why didn’t you knock?” You asked in a panic, nervous laughter bubbling in your throat.

His signature smile twitched ever so slightly as he glanced down at your bloodied pussy, eyebrows raised by a millimeter. Alastor remained silent for a couple of seconds before speaking, and you noticed that his cheeks were flushed. Weird. Normally he would be repelled by this stuff, shut the door with that look of disgust and everything. Why did it seem like he was intrigued now?

“...Uhm–” “Miss Charlie asked me to come get you, however,” Alastor gripped his cane tighter. “It looks like you’re busy.”

“Oh, Charlie asked for me?” You echoed, running your clean hand through your hair. “I could just clean myself up, and– Alastor, are you okay?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watched the radio demon cover his smile with his hand, as he averted his gaze from you. 

You also noticed he closed the door behind him when you weren’t looking.

“I’m quite alright, my dear. Just–” He stole another glance your way and cursed under his breath, surprising you. He doesn’t swear.

“Ala–” “What would drive you to…” He looked the other direction as he pointed at you and possibly your previous action as you sat there, frozen —still dripping, but frozen— “Do that while you were… menstruating?” 

There’s the Alastor you knew. So disgusted by anything sexual.

But the more you analyzed his expression, the more you figured out that it wasn’t really disgust; it was something more like frustration. But, what was he frustrated at? He doesn’t have a reason to be frustrated. Hell, it should be you that’s—

Ah, now you see why.

“...Are you hard right now?” Alastor tensed at your words. His eye twitched as he cleared his throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can literally see it.”

Alastor glanced down, and you could’ve sworn you saw his more demonic side for a split second “Ah, well how about that.” He replied tightly, as if holding himself back. “I need a moment; I apologi—” 

“Are you hard because of me?” Well that was quite blunt. To be fair, you weren’t one to sugarcoat.

He let out a sharp exhale. His pride won’t let him admit it, but you know just by the way his breath turned ragged that it was because of you. And you had to confess that it boosted your ego and turned you on. Alastor, the radio demon, was hard because of you. 

“...Alastor?”

He stayed quiet, leaving you slightly uncomfortable. Alastor allowed his eyes to wander towards you, but this time it stayed there. Stayed staring, analyzing, drinking you up. 

It wasn’t physically obvious (other than the strain in his pants), but you could feel the hunger start to eat him up from the inside. Alastor took a deep breath before speaking, not particularly to you, “I am quite hungry…”

“‘Hungry’?” You repeated, head tilted. You realized just how vulnerable you are in this situation, especially since you had kicked your duvet off long ago, and in an attempt to fix a bit of that, you squeezed your knees together. “What are you talking abou—”

In a snap, he disintegrated into the shadows to place himself in between your legs, his claws opening her legs like he was Moses parting the Red Sea. “I guess I’ll indulge in you…” He looked up at you with a raised brow, and you have to assume he’s asking for your consent. Though your answer had to be quick; he was slowly losing his mind being so close to blood on flesh.

Ever since his “devotion” to the hotel, it had been a while since he ever last ravished on an actual demon. Sure, he had eaten some for defense of the hotel, but shark loans don’t taste good anyway; they tasted bitter and like their fluid was purely vomit. Alastor couldn’t even remember the last time he actually savored his food for once. 

So imagine his enthusiasm when you gave him the okay to do whatever he wanted. Alastor’s grin widened even more before he licked a strip across your inner thigh, the blood already going to his brain. He seemingly shuddered below you, and just the sight of it made the heat in your core strengthen. You clenched around nothing, and Alastor unfortunately noticed that. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly. “Patience is a virtue, dear.”

You scoffed at his sudden desire for virtue. “Why would you care about virtues–” You cut yourself off with a breathy moan when Alastor collected your mixture of slick and blood to penetrate back inside of you via his tongue. He snickered at the way you immediately crumbled in front of him; you were so full of energy a while ago. 

Well, who could blame you? It wasn’t your fault he was already so pussy drunk. You didn’t even know that could happen with him! Alastor, the demon who looks at Angel Dust with such disgust whenever he makes a sexual remark. 

Curse the damn demon and his sinful, and surprisingly long tongue. It was obvious he knew how to work with what he had, and he knew how to give quality results. You awkwardly placed your clean hand on top of your thigh, which was right beside Alastor’s head. He stopped what he was doing —much to your dismay— and glanced at your hand. “Go on,” Alastor encouraged, his breath hot on your clit. “I don’t bite. Hard, at least.”

You scoffed at his words, reluctantly running your hand through his hair. Once he knew you had adjusted comfortably, he continued his mischievous actions, his tongue rolling inside of you. He was so talented with his mouth, it made your mind fog almost immediately. “I guess I now know that your mouth is good for something other than talking…” You attempted to tease, but he only removed his tongue from your pussy with slight effort, glancing up at you with an amused raise of his brow. “Careful with your words, my dear,” Alastor warned. “You might end up biting off more than you can chew.”

You rolled your eyes. But just as you were about to retaliate, Alastor planted a kiss on your clit, mentally noting how that made your shiver and sigh. The radio demon slid an arm under your thigh to hook it over his shoulder. At that sudden motion, you inhaled sharply, subconsciously gripping onto the small antlers that he had hidden in his red tufts of hair.  

He picked up the pace at your action, grunting at it. You saw something moving under his coat, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “D-Do you have a tail?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You huffed, gripping his antlers for support. That alone was an answer for him to quicken the pace, drinking in every single drop of blood you had to offer him.

He had to admit, it was better than any kind of blood he tasted before. It didn’t matter if he were to compare it to anything from when he was alive or from his time in Hell, yours came on top.

Alastor groaned at the metallic taste. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was mixed with your juice or if your blood actually tasted like that, but it was sweet but tangy at the same time, the aftertaste giving him shocks to his mind. 

It’s been a while since he’d eaten someone out. When was the last time, 1926?

He didn’t even realize how quick he set his pace until he heard your breath struggling to keep up with him. Hell, Alastor hadn’t even realized how tight he made his grip to be on both of your thighs just to keep them open. 

You were screaming his name without him noticing.

And maybe it was just his sadistic nature, or pure instinct, but he needed to hear you do it again.

This time, Alastor listened intently on how your moans turned into hiccups. Every now and then he would mix things up, cupping your clit with his lips before sucking the dried blood off it, then turning to give your entrance special attention. He didn’t care if your blood was dripping down his chin, nor did he care if his static filled the air like white noise. All he did care about was the fact that his tongue was enjoying the tangy metallic taste of you.

“Wait, fuck, I’m– I’m so close,” you warned Alastor, gripping his hair tighter with both hands this time. To Hell if your right hand was covered in residue from your previous activity; the pleasure felt too good to even be concerned about. You let out a feeble attempt at a noise of pleasure, tears already pricking your eyes. 

Just a couple of minutes ago, you had such a difficult time reaching your climax; how come Alastor was able to drive you to the edge so easily? 

You forced yourself to stare at Alastor, disregarding and ignoring every sound of overwhelming ecstasy you made. He was completely intoxicated by everything you had to give him, his eyes closed, his breath ragged and everything. And —fuck— just the sight of a powerful and feared overlord wallowing in a mere lowly sinner’s slick and blood was enough to send that last shock of bliss you needed.

When you give into the pleasure that Alastor’s horrid tongue was giving you, he scoffed against your pussy. His cockiness soon faded into something more indulgent when he tasted a gush of blood entering his mouth. He drank it up without question, his eyes shut and his eyebrow twitching. 

And honestly, you wished you didn’t open your eyes to see what he looked like. The way he slotted himself in between your thighs, his eyelids drooping heavily as he stared intensely at your cunt, the whole scene was so erotic. 

Alastor couldn’t help himself when he craved more than you could give, his tongue scooping up slick and blood from inside you despite your orgasm fading. Your taste was so horribly addictive to him; it made the strain in his pants hurt him so blissfully. He hooked your other leg with his arm and placed it on top of his other shoulder, both of his hands now gripping onto your thighs.

He pulled you closer to his mouth, your cunt already swollen and abused. His teeth lightly grazed your clit, and you practically wept at the small contact. Your grip on his hair tightened, causing Alastor to tense up before immediately relaxing when he tasted what he needed at that point in time.

Alastor groaned lowly into your pussy, his tongue teasing and slurping up as much as it could. The vibrations from his voice made you sea stars, your legs instinctively kicking in an attempt to push him away. The overstimulation was getting too much, but fuck did it feel so fucking good and you were losing your mind at the pleasure, and—

You shouted Alastor’s name out with a cry as another orgasm crashed onto you, your whole body spasming. His tongue slowed down as you rode it, but it was not stopping any time soon.

He sighed deeply when he got his reward, your blood staining his lips and his tongue. Alastor finally looked at you, and your disheveled look only sent shocks of heat down to his clothed cock; you were such a mess just by his tongue alone, it gave him such an ego boost.

As if he needed one.

Your exhausted eyes met his, your breath coming out of you in pants. Before you could even fully process what just happened, Alastor removed his mouth from your pussy with a pop, his tongue  licking one last stripe, earning a whine from you.

He was heaving for breath, the smile forever on his face sultry and somewhat content.  “Well, my dear!” He exclaimed out of the blue, making you jump. In just a blink, he hopped off of your bed and stood in front of you, his cane and hands hiding the embarrassing boner in his trousers. “You tasted absolutely delicious. One of the best I’ve ever tasted!” He was so incredibly theatrical, as if nothing steamy just occurred a couple of beats before.

“Alastor.” You deadpanned, making yourself sit up. You took a swift glance at your legs; they were shaking violently, small punctures decorating your outer thighs from Alastor’s grip, blood dripping down in rivulets. 

He hummed, tilting his head as he looked at you. You raised an eyebrow before staring at his hands, though he knew your eyes were on what he was trying to cover.

“Yes, (Name)?-” “Aren’t you going to take care of…” You pointed at his bulge. “That?” Your tone was flat, and yet Alastor could hear the subtle suggestion that you were implying.

His smile strained, its edges twitching in slight disgust. “It’ll pass–”

“Yeah, in like 15 minutes or something. You’re really going to let the others see your boner?” You grinned at the way he grimaced, his shoulders tensing up at your vulgarity. “Are you seriously going to let Angel tease you about it?”

In a snap, he materialized on top of you, his hands caging your body. “Be careful, my dear.” He said, his voice strained as it filled with static. “You might be dealing with something you can’t handle here.”

“Good Lord, that was incredibly cringe.” You commented, trying to spite him and rile him up to actually do something about that stupid strain in his pants that was pressing against you and, oh dear God was it huge–

He just scoffed at what you said, rolling his eyes. You were about to retaliate at his sassy behavior until something slithery went around both of your legs, slowly wrapping around your thighs. They pushed your thighs a bit higher as Alastor unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes widened when you finally realized what was going to happen, and frankly you were more than excited.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt your knees hit your chest, anticipating what you never really knew you needed. Alastor studied your face, drank up your expression, before freeing himself from his pants, his tip already at your entrance.

You gasped at the sudden feeling, a shiver going up your spine. Was this real? Were you actually going to fuck the Radio Demon? The demon that literally refuses to do anything remotely sexual or romantic?

As Alastor placed his hands beside your head again, the tentacles wrapped around your thighs tightened, making you squirm. His grin widened at your reaction, and you suddenly understood why he tried to distract you with his tentacles.

Holy fuck, this man was huge. He had only put his head in and you were already desperate to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as Alastor slid his cock into you, your head hitting your pillows behind you. “We aren’t even halfway through, sweetheart.” He informed you, his tone dripping with condescension. 

You whined at that. Not even halfway through?

You gripped your bedsheets for support as Alastor successfully thrusted fully into you, your hips touching the other’s. He grunted at the warmth and tightness that you offered him, his cock eagerly twitching. It’s been a while since he’d done this. Fuck, he was sure that he’s never done something this vulgar during his time in Hell!

You covered your mouth to prevent any more moans from escaping you as Alastor stayed still for a couple seconds. You felt so undeniably full, and you can’t believe yourself when you think that you wanted to feel even fuller. 

Alastor began to rock his hips, one of his tentacles inching towards the wrist of the hand that was covering your mouth. “Don’t muffle your pretty noises, my dear. Where’s the fun in that?” He asked lowly, your wrists now above your head. His head dipped into the crevice of your neck, his lips planting a kiss onto its skin before his teeth sank into it, making you cry out in pain. Or pleasure. You weren’t quite sure, either.

His mouth finally detached itself from you as he quickened the pace of his thrusts, his tongue lapping at the blood he had made drip. Alastor shuddered at the taste, groaning; you were making him lose his fucking mind. 

You whined and panted under him, your thighs tensing against his tentacles. The lewd noises that the two of you were producing traveled all the way to your ears, and your stomach flipped at the sounds. It was just so wet, and the fact that Alastor’s grunts were so near your ears didn’t really help your situation.

If Alastor were to be honest, he fucking hated sex. He never really got the appeal to do it regularly, and he never really understood why some people practically needed it to survive in Hell, even worse on Earth. But his disgust was not the only reason why he doesn’t want to have sexual relations with someone, especially someone that resided in the hotel.

And it was that urge. That urge to breed and fill and mark that he can’t control. Ever since he spawned in Hell, he knew how his body changed his lifestyle, and he had to accept the fact that he had impulses like this. And once his brain realizes what’s happening, he can no longer control his body.

“Can you take one more?” Alastor growled against your neck, making your hazed expression turn into a confused one. “‘One more’?-” You cut yourself off with a yelp as a tentacle started to rub against your already oversensitive clit, and you bit your lip at the contact.

Alastor finally lifted himself up, his smile incredibly strained and twitching. His hips showed no mercy to your poor abused cunt as he chased his own release, making sure you came with him. The only thought dancing around in his mind was the idea of you being his and only his, your blood and flesh for him to take.

With one finally thrust, Alastor bit into the skin of your neck again, making you scream his name. Though his hips were no longer practically shoving his cock inside you frantically, it had become more calculated, hard movements, his dick pumping more and more cum into you.

And when you felt the warmth of the liquid inside of your cunt, you let out a guttural moan, the knot in your stomach snapping as the tentacle against your clit massaged it in circular motions. With a cry of his name, your entire body spasmed, Alastor’s teeth on your neck loosening its grip against you slightly.

The both of you just stayed in that position, chests rising and falling as you caught your breath. His deer ears twitched, tickling your nose. You scrunched it, but that led you to process what the fuck just happened.

“Holy shit.” You muttered, a smile growing on your face. “I just fucked the radio demon on my period.”

Alastor’s body stiffened at your words, static filling the air as he spoke. “What did you say–”

“I said, I fucked the radio demon.” You repeated, pride wrapping around your voice. He groaned at your words, clearly annoyed and embarrassed. Alastor pulled out of you with a small sigh before snapping his fingers. In that motion, all his tentacles removed themselves from you, and your legs immediately flopped onto the bed.

You stared at Alastor with a shit-eating grin, his appearance pristine and as if he didn’t rut into you like his life depended on it. He averted your gaze as you dropped your jaw. “Come on, don’t be embarrassed now!”

“I am not embarrassed.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

( @ladyzaunis since you told me to tag lol)

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor x reader #reader is on their period #bondage #creampie #blood. Just blood

[highonakuweeds]

ONE OF THE LITERAL BEST FANFICS I'VE EVER READ HOLY MOTHER OF GOD.

A Doe in Fall (part 2)

I have a terrible case of the big bad sads so enjoy part 2 earlier than I planned

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall smut💦

Part 1 - Pretty in Red Part 2 - Liar Part 3 - A Tragedy

Part 2 Liar

You not-stalk Alastor for weeks but don’t find anything blackmail worthy to grab ahold of. But luckily (?) for you, a chance encounter pulls you deeper into his hobbies and therefore his scope of fascination. Most importantly, do murderers go on dates?

「Warnings/Promises: Smut, HumanAlastor x FemBurlesquerReader, Alastor eats pussy like beignets (MESSY), dancing, shoe stress, murder, dead body, food metaphors, stalking, masturbation, Tommy is a bad dude, allusion to coerced prostitution, praise kink?, public sex acts, stage name is a fucking pun GOTCHU BITCHES, Gluttony」

minors dni please

The nights you didn’t work were spent casually looking for Alastor. Not stalking, just …. pursuing. 

You found over the course of several weeks what places he never attended, and a few that he did like clockwork. As much as you wanted to approach him, you knew you’d end up checkmated again. You just wanted to observe the man, surely you’d see something you could use against him, something tangible.

What was he doing? Knife carrying smooth talker who fingers ladies in the park? There was more to him than you anticipated. That addictive adrenaline rush was calling you to chase him. You’d catch him in the act of whatever men like him did, and—- well, you’d figure it out then. Was he a mugger, maybe? The knife would make sense. But he disposed of bodies so well, a month and no mention of a corpse anywhere. You didn’t want to even touch the thought bubbling up in the back of your skull. It was getting louder and louder, heavier than the other thoughts.

A repeat killer.

You decided, somewhat foolishly, if he was a killer it would be best to know that information. So you needed to continue even if the cards all read death. Right? 

Right.

For all his efforts, he hadn’t actually noticed you. While he tended to stay at the back of the room, you were always further back, on the balcony, at the bar. He went about enjoying his nightlife wholly unaware someone was watching. Because of this, he did things that were considered quite dangerous for a woman.

Many nights you found yourself alone in wooded areas. Well, “alone”. 

During your casual stalking you found him to be quite pretty, in a sense. He walked smoothly, always had pressed and tailored suits. Slender fingers, wide shoulders, small waist. Fingers.

Many more nights you buried your face into your pillow and thought about his hands on you, his breath at your ear. His “Shhh.” You couldn’t replicate the feeling. No matter how you tried.

If all else failed, no juicy blackmail available, maybe just endear yourself to him. Bed him. Get the conquest done and let him go on with his little crime spree or whatever it was he was doing when you weren’t watching. Because so far all you’ve seen is a man who loves to dance and enjoys whiskey. 

After another show done, body sore, you did your tour of the theatre. Tommy was snapping his fingers at you from the bar, his attempt to tell you to come over. Every day he seemed to become more and more brutish.

“What can I do for ya?” You tried to keep a bounce in your step, arches aching. 

“I want you to meet someone.” Tommy turned to a small man at the bar, hair thinning and combed forward. You guessed in his sixties. “Give Mr. Wilson a warm welcome. He’s one of your most generous benefactors.”

You nodded, smile slipping as you mind started to consider what was happening. You had heard some girls were taking dates, offering private shows, but you had been under the impression that was entirely of their own free will and desire. Had Tommy turned pimp? Your gaze flashed to Tommy, his stare cold, and then back to the man. “Well, thank you very much doll! Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wilson.” Tommy saw someone walk by and followed, leaving you with the older man. 

“Your dance was something else, sweetheart.” You nodded, his hand coming to rest on your hip. “I bet those hips do more than dancing.”

Leaning in, you rested your hand on the hand he set on your hip and whispered into his ear, “Touch me again without my permission,” you lifted his tie, a flirtatious move to anyone watching, “And the next time you see this tacky tie, you’ll be shitting it out.” You patted his chest. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

You pushed through the crowd and out of the front doors of the theatre. The air chillier tonight than past weeks. Looking around, you balled your fists. You wanted to hit something, break something.

Without any destination you tore off down the street, angrily huffing to yourself. You looked both ways to cross the intersection when you saw a familiar silhouette. A car honked, your hands coming up in apology as you finished crossing the street to follow Alastor.

Was your luck miraculous? Or malignant? You made it several blocks before a man stepped in front of you. You weren’t listening, trying to look past him to see where Smiles was headed.

“Will you fuck off?!” You pushed him out the way only to have him pull you back by the arm. Before you could let out your frustration, a stranger walked up to you both. 

“Hands off, move along.” The stranger flashed his identification papers, making the offender leave quickly with his head down. “Miss you need to be careful out here. There’s been people missing from this ward. Pretty thing like you should be home.” 

Your mouth formed various shapes, no words fitting.

“Detective Brady.” He handed you a card.

I don’t want this.

“Sure, thanks.” You snatched it with two fingers and practically jogged away. No sign of him, no indication where Alastor went. Were there any forested areas? He often took strolls in shady parks but you couldn’t remember any nearby. Turning around you realized how far you’d wandered from the fanfare and lights. The area was dark and deserted, not just Alastor but no one was around anymore. You stashed the card in your bra and rushed past an alley, giving up and deciding to just go home, when your ears caught the sound of dragging fabric on pavement.

Ice. Your blood chilled. Taking a few steps backwards, you turned to look into the darkened side street. You saw nothing, but heard a familiar wet sound.

Would it matter? Death?

You lifted your heels, walking on the balls of your feet to not make any sound as you approached the black shadow blanketing the majority of the side street.

A glimpse of brown leather shoes peeked into the light, soon your eyes adjusted as you too entered the inky darkness.

“I don’t care for liars.” Alastor was in front of you before you could even shout from shock. You looked around him to see a crumpled body on the ground and a black car.

“Is there a problem?” His eyes scanned your face, his usual smile no longer so inviting but instead manic and wide. You don’t know what possessed you, the adrenaline was flowing again and drowning out your more sensible thoughts. 

Your eyes were locked on his golden brown stare, “Only… if you’re quite attached to his wallet.”

He burst into laughter, wiping tears with the back of his bloodied glove. A small smear of blood was left behind on his cheek.

“I have no need for it.” He reached down and fished it out of the man’s pocket, “And neither does he!”

You caught it with both hands, “Well doesn’t that make me the lucky lady of the evening.”

“Don’t speak too soon. I’m quite cross with you.” He gestured at you with the knife, “We had a deal.”

In what could best be described as an out of body experience you watched yourself rush to his side and lift the man’s legs, “In the trunk?”

Alastor stared at you, teeth showing as his smile grew, “I’ve seen films less entertaining than you.” A stifled laugh as he lifted the man from under his arms and you both carried him to the car. You dropped the legs with a loud thud, Alastor gently setting the man down and opening the trunk.

A waxed canvas was lining the inside, “Clever.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He hummed happily at the compliment and you sank your teeth into the reaction. Everyone wants something; power, money, sex, praise. Find the right combination and even the toughest hearts would swing open. 

After he tossed the man, the knife, and the gloves into the back, you reached for his hand. “Your wife is going to be miffed. Blood is so difficult to get out of cotton.” You scratched at the bit of blood that had stained his cuff. “Spit works really well. But lemon juice and baking soda before any store bought cleaners will help.”

Alastor took his hand back, adjusting his sleeve to hide the red spot, “Oh she has much bigger issues to deal with.”

Your mind raced. A chauvinist? Abuser? A weight settled into your stomach; disappointment. “Is that so?”

Giggling, he leaned against the bumper, one leg crossing in front of the other, “Considering she doesn’t exist, she’s quite terrible at laundry. And I haven’t eaten a meal in years.” A giggle devolving into a full chest laugh. 

A terrible joke, you smacked his chest, “Cruel! Unfunny!” 

“Perhaps I should eat you?” He leaned close. 

“I hear I’m quite sweet.” You smirked, heart pounding in your chest with such force you were rocking slightly with each pulse.

Alastor felt his blood pressure rising. He should kill you. Just to be safe. But—- oh, this was so fun. You hid any fear you were feeling perfectly. He could be forgiven to think he was staring into a mirror. If he met himself in an alley, well, he would feel quite safe. Perhaps you we’re of a similar inclination?

He watched your throat as you gulped. You licked your thumb and wiped at his cheek, “You always make a mess, hun.”

Alastor felt the world spin as you then dragged your blood stained thumb over your lips, red lipstick smearing with it. “Sweet eno-,” he swallowed your words, hand coming to your neck and pulling you into the kiss. No patience, his tongue swiped over your mouth and plunged in at the smallest parting. 

Your mind was screaming, finally, yes. 

His tongue as soft as his hands rolled over your own, every time your mouths pulled away and drew back together was thinning your frontal cortex. Alastor could taste the faint metallic tinge of the man’s blood on your mouth, and he found his sleeping libido shiver awake. Always a fan of kissing, he now found his mind wandering to other parts of your body, other acts of affection, as he felt you’d call them.

No time. He pulled away, “Against the wall.”

You practically threw yourself into the bricks. Alastor pulled a gas tin from the trunk and began dousing the street. You frowned, body relaxing.

“You’re taking the food metaphor too far. Fire? Really?” You took a second to realize there was no odor.

A laugh in threes, “Water, dear.” You watched the blood thin and begin snaking down to the gutter. He set the can in the trunk and closed the hatch. After opening the drivers door he turned to you, “Do you trust me to drive you home?”

“Honestly, no.”

“That’s why I like you,” a wink. “Wear comfortable shoes tomorrow.” He flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up. Before you could question him he  hopped into the car and drove off out of the back of the side street.

Alastor found himself singing a little louder as he drove home. A thrilling evening becoming somehow more exciting. He realized that always seemed to happen when you stumbled into his plans. Still annoyed you had followed him, his thoughts shifted to possibilities. A kindred spirit could make things easier. More fun. Safer. But who were you? Much like himself you wore a mask. He could see it clearly as it always began to slip in his presence. 

He pulled his car behind his home, backed up against a large greenhouse. Still in the idling vehicle, his fingers came to his lips. What a peculiar creature you were. Killing the lights and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he considered what to do. The possibilities kept coming in waves. But he stopped himself, never one to live in fantasy. Helping toss a dead man into a car wasn’t the same as killing. Yes, you showed no outward concerns, but he couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t turn tail the second things got more intense. 

He always took his time, sensing out those who were good candidates. The abhorrent, the abusers, the cruel. There was something so satisfying, deep in his gut, to watch a person with power over others cower in fear. The same eyes that relished in the pain they gave to those under their thumb shaking in realization the were now the prey. Begging for mercy they didn’t afford others. Alastor sighed. He remembered your pained sob in the park, frustration and disappointment at his lack of reaction. Eyes fluttering closed, if you had gotten in the car you’d not be disappointed in him now. 

A deeper sigh. But you didn’t. Which was wise. He thought better of you for it. Opening his eyes and leaving the car, he went to the trunk to begin his work.

You couldn’t sleep. Not because of the dead man, you were getting used to that. It was the lack of information. Comfortable shoes? For what? He didn’t give you a time or place to meet.

Tomorrow was Sunday, you realized. Ah, the bar. That was the only place that would make sense. 

Sundays were big nights for your theatre, but you weren’t needed unless a girl was sick. You simply weren’t at that level of fame for your little company and this was fine for you suddenly. You spent your Sunday pacing your small one room apartment and changing shoes.

What did Alastor have planned? With the little you knew about him it a could be a capital crime or a walk in the park. You genuinely couldn’t imagine and it was exciting. A normal man asking you—- was this a date? Was it presumptive to call it a date? You couldn’t quite see Alastor dating. You let the question go. Most men would take you for a movie and perhaps a chaste kiss at the door of a cab. With Alastor it could be literally anything. How do you dress for anything? 

Your friend teased you, arriving early to her bar and chewing on your lip. 

“So, either you suddenly wanna look nice for my dive, or you’re expecting someone.” She was wiping down the counter.

“I adore your customers, Betty.” You hopped from the seat, needing to reapply your lipstick.

Your singing voice was strained, nerves keeping you tense. Looking into the modest crowd you couldn’t find him. A cornflower yellow dress, a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t let that stop you. The collar a loose and folding slit from shoulder to shoulder, you were positively cute, he decided. Leaning at the bar he couldn’t see your face, but under the small lights you were glowing nonetheless. A little ball of pride rose in his gut, noticing you clearly had put more care into your appearance tonight than most Sundays. 

Truth was he had enjoyed a whiskey and your songs for several months now, always at the seat closest to the door, out of sight and out of mind. His favorite of your casual dive bar digs were the trousers you occasionally wore. You looked so sharp.

When your set was done, you tried to be gracious as you left the piano’s side. Alastor watched you from his seat, letting your face light up once again when you recognized him. He gave a noticeable look to your shoes. 

“Those will do.” 

“Do what?” 

“You,” he leaned against the bar, “owe me a drink. And alcohol always pairs well with dance.”

Maybe a date, you thought. You offered him your arm, “Lead the way.”

As you walked, arm in arm, you found yourself not needing to speak much. His arm was so solid in yours. You felt like everyone was looking, the handsome man and the pretty young thing. Did you two look sweet? Like the cleanest cut kids in the neighborhood? Did you look like the kind of people who sat in pews once a week and clasped hands over dinner?

Did you look like the sort to toss bodies in cars? No, decidedly not. And it made you feel powerful. What a perfect act. The feeling of looking nothing like what you were was akin to the addicting rush of your cat and mouse game with most men. 

“Do you like those group dances? Like the Big Apple?” Alastor asked as he opened the doors for you. 

“Not particularly…”

“Perfect, neither do I.” He laughed. 

A small table in a small nook of a booth lining the small dance floor. You clinked your glasses together, no toast necessary, and watched the couples swing around the room. As the 20’s were fading from the rear view, you all hoped dance would be less stigmatized. But part of the fun was how scandalous it was. 

“How was your day? Made it home safe and sound?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned into the plush booth seat. 

Oh, this was going to be… normal? You choked a little on your drink, surprised. “Honestly?”

“Always.”

“I sat in my apartment changing my shoes repeatedly.”

Alastor’s laugh was loud and sharp, but you didn’t find it obnoxious. You liked it.

“That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to risk you being unable to dance.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a slow sip with your gaze on the dancers, “Ya know how to avoid that? Tell me to wear shoes for dancing.”

A snicker, “Perhaps I’m not quite as skilled with talking to women as I like to think.”

“Then talk to me like a man.” Your glass made a thud as it hit the table. Alastor’s eyes widened as they always did when you said something wildly amusing to him.

“Hmm, I don’t talk much to men.” He thought, “Not for long conversations, that is.” Your mind conjured up the two dead men. “I never asked your name. Is it too late now?”

“You saw it on the posters. Autumn.”

Alastor smirked, “Autumn Hind is not your real name. That is clearly a stage name.”

Swirling your drink in its crystal, you smiled, “It’s a good one though, you have to admit.” His brow cocked, not understanding. “Hind, a doe. And what do does do in the fall?” Your own brows rose suggestively. 

Alastor hit the table, “A deer pun?! Oh darling, we’re going to be fast friends.” He offered you his glass for another wordless toast.

“I thought it was pretty funny, for a burlesque dancer no less. A horny little deer prancing on stage. Better than Allie Way and Frosti Winters.” You grinned into the glass, proud of yourself.

You could see Alastor physically relax beside you, dancers moving about in front of you both. 

“And yours? Your day, that is.”

He hummed, “I slept late, stayed up late. Took care of our newly penniless friend.” 

You wanted to ask more, what did you do with him? Can I come next time? Is there a pool of gators somewhere eating well today?

He leaned in to you, “May I have this dance?”

Your smile was uncontained, all desire to control your outward appearance was lost in the fun of dancing with your newest partner. Was there anyone else in the room with you anymore? Who knows. The music kept playing and that was all you needed. 

Alastor was a marvelous dancer,  you noticed other women glancing his way, eye lashes fluttering but ignored as he focused on the movements. This was how you managed to not-stalk him so well, he was completely unaware of the interested gazes of those around him.

While he didn’t notice the individual stares, Alastor could feel the attention on him and it made his chest puff. He loved it, how he could feed an image to the masses and be seen as he saw fit. It was something you both had in common, even if neither of you had strong enough egos to vocalize it yet.

When the music wound down, a slow number for the lovers, you hadn’t expected Alastor to stay on the dance floor. A slow dance, one arm on your hip, hand in hand. 

Now close, you felt you could speak without risk of others eavesdropping. 

“Why did you invite me out? I have a distinct memory of you saying you had very little affection or time.” You were shorter than him, your shoes not very tall, so you had to speak up and at his neck.

“A man who says he has no time is a man unwilling to make any.” Alastor led you in a small sway along the floor.

“Oh so you just didn’t see me worth the effort before.” You said it half teasingly, half seriously.

He looked down now, eyes meeting yours again, “That was before I knew how entertaining you could be.”

You pouted, entertaining was not the word you wanted to hear. Enthralling, Enchanting, Endearing. 

“There’s that face again. What ever could it mean.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side.

“I’m entertaining at work. You don’t need to take me out to enjoy my entertainment value.” 

He laughed again, making you glare, “Darling, being entertaining is high praise. And you’re not entertaining at work. You’re bewitching.” He pulled you a little closer, “The way you make those men act a fool. Truly a sight. You wield a power many women just dabble in.”

You shimmied a little against his chest, “Well if we’re giving out compliments…” you remembered the satisfying hum from last night, “The canvas was clever, but the water in the cans was brilliant. Nothing suspicious about a little petrol in the trunk.”

His grin widened. “And your precision. One cut and that brute was down. It was remarkable.” The hand holding your waist began to tighten. It egged you on, whether he intended it to or not, “I can appreciate the way you carry yourself.” Your freehand ran across his vest, suit jacket left at the table, “I wish I could see more.”

Your chest pressed against his, trapping your hand. “Ooh, you are observant, little one. Why did you agree to come out? Still chasing my,” his hips pressed against yours, hand sliding down slightly to hold you close, “affection?”

Fingers playing with his buttons, “Hmm, debilitating fascination and your affection. Do you have any to spare?” You smiled sweetly up at him.

Your mouths were on each other before the bathroom door closed behind you. Alastor locking it without looking, one hand staying on your neck. The small room was just a single toilet and a bathroom cabinet with a built in sink. Little tulip shaped light sconces above the mirror made the room brighter than the dance hall. Your nails lightly grazed his scalp, him humming in return. His body was pressing yours against the wall, despite his thin frame he had a power to him. Hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place. Your hips tried to roll against his anyway.

“Is it praise? I’ll sing your song until I’m blue in the face, until my lungs give out just tell me what you need.” You whined. 

His head shook softly, thumb pulling down on your chin to open your mouth. “It isn’t that simple. It’s not something you can say.” 

His tongue swiped over your own, neither in your mouths. He tasted like whiskey, bitter and fragrant. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling his body against yours. You were vibrating; the way you always did when he was near you.

Kissing, tongues, body presses.  You were tangled together.

“This isn't… doing anything?” You asked, his lips coming to your neck. Sighing, your hand gripped his hair weakly. “That feels good.”

He shook his head into your skin, “I don’t see any desire to carry it further. But I enjoy it for what it is. And you seem to enjoy it. Is that enough for you?”

You wanted to scream, to argue, but as he pulled away and you stared up into his sharp honey brown eyes, you felt helpless to deny him anything. Did you need sex? Really? It’d been three months now without it and you were only recently clawing at the sheets with thoughts of Alastor. Being in his mouth was better than being strangers. Sliding fingers back into his hair and drawing him closer, your leg came up and hooked on his hip.

Alastor pulled you both from the wall and turned you, pressing your body into the sink. You were staring at your reflection, Alastor’s eyes meeting yours in the mirror, “I’m happy to do many things for you… just not exactly what you’re asking for; not right now. Not in this tiny dance hall bathroom.” 

His hand snaked up your chest and lightly held your neck, you fought back a moan.

“Well, if it’s good enough for your wife….” 

He laughed into your skin, other hand slipping down the front of your dress and cupping your crotch. “I’ve heard no complaints.” The way he anchored you, arms twisted and firm around such vital parts of you, made your whole body relax into his arms. A parachute safely secured around you as you fell. Mouth to your ear, hot and warm breath, “Turn around.”

Head spinning, you turned in his arms. Alastor lifted you up and onto the countertop of the sink, lips crashing back into yours.

The sound of music shook the thin walls of the room, heart erratic in your chest. His fingers slid up both thighs slowly, a familiar feeling for you now. His hands your favorite dance partner. 

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he dropped to his knees, your legs closing in embarrassment before he slid his hands between them. 

“Did you ask for more affection, dear?” He pushed your dress up around your waist, two fingers pulling the fabric of your panties to the side. You wanted to rip them off, damning your garters. You felt feverish as you watched him bury his face into your pussy. Your wetness was evident by how easily he glided through your folds. One hand gripped the counter, the other combing through his chestnut hair. Alastor kept his eyes on you, reading your face as he moved his tongue over your heat.

Mind racing for something clever to say, you opened your mouth but just gasped out his name as he sucked gently at your clit. One of your short heeled shoes you stressed over fell off as your knees came up around his head.

You were confident you made the right answer. With the music thumping along you didn’t feel any need to keep yourself quiet.

Your breathy moans and little hip rolls into his mouth made Alastor smile against your skin. He had learned many ways to keep people satiated. 

With a struggle, you opened your legs again allowing his tongue to drop down and into you. Nose rutting against your sensitive clit with every movement of his tongue in and out. 

A pounding on the door made you jump. 

“People are waiting!” Someone yelled.

Alastor pushed his tongue deeper, wriggling up and down against your twitching walls. Your head fell forward, “Alastor-,” you choked.

He buried his nose into your muff, eyes closing.

The door knob rattled, “Hello!”

“Alastor.”

So warm. Your body was so warm on his face. Your smell was making him feel feral. Gluttony. The way you were twitching and heaving under his tongue, groaning his name. Had he ever felt so powerful while on his knees? Had he ever enjoyed someone else’s body in such a bloodless way? No. Decidedly not.

“We’re gonna get the key!” The man at the door said.

“Okay, okay, affection received.” You patted his head, pushing him away by his forehead. “Don’t need to end the night in a paddy wagon.”

Alastor’s tongue was still out, eyes glossy as he looked up at you.

For the briefest second you considered wrapping your thighs back around his head and waiting for the key.

You hopped off, grabbing your shoe and leaning to get it back on. Crouching down you kissed Alastor’s nose and wiped his chin clean with your handkerchief before pushing it into his shirt pocket. “Up, up!” Hand in hand you barreled out of the door before the staff could see you and rushed to the furthest corner of the hall.

When you stopped and looked back you saw a staff member looking around annoyed, a man putting his hands up and entering the bathroom with a huff.

Before you could say anything, compliment or scolding, a woman was in front of Alastor. Your hand slid from his naturally. 

“I am so sorry. Are you the host of that jazz show?” The woman had her hands in front of her, nervously twisting the handle of her purse, “Sorry if you’re not! You just look like the description, tall… handsome… cute glasses.”

You turned around, partly acting like you didn’t know him at all and partly hiding the way your face twisted. Unsure what exactly you two were doing, you didn’t want to create hassle for either of you.  Alastor laughed, “The very same! Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your back turned you couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she made a barely audible squeak. 

While you were eavesdropping, a man offered you his arm. Your hand slipped to Alastor’s back, giving him a touch as you slid into the strangers arms for a dance.

He turned around to see you hit the floor and smiled, returning to the fan before him. After a few more compliments about his voice and his appearance, the woman shrunk a little, “Are you free tonight? I don’t have an escort home…”

A hum, soft smile, “Ah, I would love to see a fan safely home. But, alas, I am here with someone.”

What an easy excuse. It was nice to not need to lie.

“I see…. Oh, uh, your glasses… here, they’re a little smudged,” she offered him her handkerchief but he declined, pulling yours from his pocket.

“Danced too hard?” She chuckled, trying to elongate the conversation.

Alastor hummed, fogging the glasses before wiping them clear. “Eating, actually.”

“Oh you’re a messy eater, huh?”

“So I’ve been told.” He folded the square into a triangle and returned it to his pocket.

“What a… delicate handkerchief.” She looked at the soft yellow fabric and saw your yellow dress twirling behind him. “Ah. Well….It was a pleasure to meet you.” The woman sheepishly excused herself, letting him watch you dance around the floor with the stranger.

He’d never so explicitly told anyone his proclivities as he had done with you. Growing up he learned quickly his interests misaligned with other young men, but he didn’t really understand it well enough until he entered his early 20s and had to learn skills his peers didn’t. A man can only turn down so many offers for sex before people begin to question him. Certain rumors could be downright dangerous. 

Your eyes kept returning to him, your smile meeting you eyes as you twirled. 

While he had bed a number of partners, it was more often than not the result of physical reactions and what felt like necessity. The few times he genuinely felt he could enjoy in indulging in carnal pleasures he found himself utterly alone. He enjoyed dating, necking, kissing, but he could only keep some people so happy for so long. Quite a few women assumed marriage would solve the issue, and pushed him. Which made the inevitable break up easier. 

His reputation was that of a rake now. The popular host who rarely dates but often canoodles.

He laughed to himself, if rumors spread of his recent antics with you he’d be practically blacklisted from certain clubs. Alastor watched you graciously leave your dance partner and hop up to him. If he were any other man, you’d throw your arms around him and make him swoon for you. But he was Alastor. Your confusingly respectful killer. So you stopped yourself, instead offering him a smile.

“I wasn’t aware you were a radio host.”

“You never did ask my job.” You both walked back to the table where his jacket was lying in the booth seat.

“Honestly did not care. Which is unusual for me. Normally my first question to men is what they do for work.” You tried to avoid looking at the bathroom before settling back into your seat beside him.

He lifted his hand and gestured for another round, “Should I be flattered or insulted?”

“Oh definitely flattered. There were much more interesting aspects to you.” There was a little space between you, a foot or so of emptiness. 

You scooted closer, Alastor glancing to you before shifting his legs and closing the last few inches of distance. Thigh touching thigh, you sat silently while your drinks were poured and brought to your table. 

“To sinning,” you offered a real toast, Alastor laughing his signature laugh and raising his glass.

“To sinning!”

His hand came to rest on yours, both settled on your lap under the table. Your cheeks were hurting, desperately trying to keep your smile looking demure and not stupid-school-girl-in-love. His fingers folded into yours, and you entirely lost the plot, face melting into a lovesick grin.

Alastor leaned into you, “Are you alright? Liquor already gone to your head?”

You squeezed his hand, “Different kind of intoxication, doll.”

The evening was, in a word, divine. You danced with reckless abandon and enjoyed various degrees of affection. You were surprised to see Alastor so open, you had pegged him as less wanting to draw attention to himself. But no, he clearly relished in making heads turn.

He offered you a ride, and this time you took it. You didn’t live far, you just wanted a little more time. When he stopped the car, you jokingly turned around and looked into the trunk. 

“We’re very alone.” You mused. He hummed an agreement, getting out of the car and opening your door.  “Wow and a gentleman.”

“A testament to my mother. If you’re comfortable, give me a wave from the window when you get in.” He closed your door behind you. 

“I don’t mind if you know where I live, you’ll have easier opportunities to kill me, I’m sure of it.” Placing two hands on his chest, you leaned up, “Is a good night kiss too forward?”

Alastor stifled a laugh, “Quite! My image of you is shattered.” before leaning down to meet your lips.

When in the apartment you turned on a light and went straight to the window. Leaning against his car with both hands in his pockets, Alastor was smiling up at you. With a wave from you, he got back into his car and left.

To say you were on cloud nine would be an understatement. Clouds couldn’t carry the weight of your joy. You’d fall to the ground like lead, regardless of the cloud classification. And with that feeling you went to bed smiling, unaware of the dark catalyst barreling towards you.

༻Masterlist༺

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

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows

ADIF @multifandomfanatic02 ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[highonakuweeds]

Feign Lust to Fool the Masses

(A/N: first off, if you see the excessive amount of swearing, specifically fuck, that's because my friend dared me to make the word count for "fuck" to be 69. So, count all you want, and you'll find out that it is indeed 69-- excluding this note. AND ALSO. HOW DOES ONE MAKE OUT WITH A FUCKING TV I'VE BEEN LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND)

Let’s get one thing straight: you fucking hate Vox with every fiber of your being.

And you know that he felt the same about you. The only reason that you were together would be because you, too, were a media overlord, specializing in interactive media such as VR headsets and such, and that if you were to partner up with someone with as powerful as Vox, then the quality of your technology would significantly increase as well as his ability to brainwash people.

And because of the numerous projects the both of you would work on, many of those intently waiting for the next upgraded piece of technology had assumed that you two were, well… in their words, boning.

You’d have to blame Valentino for that; the demons under him use your mechanisms for sexual reasons so much to the point they’d assume that the overlords who made VR happen in Hell are as horny as them.

And with that, you compromised with Vox. Feign dating in public, to attract more people hence more power, and to also make them shut the fuck up. 

Seriously, everywhere you used to go it was always just “are you and Vox dating?” or “what does his dick taste like?” 

Like, did they really fucking think you’d settle for a TV head? 

Either way, it had been around 6 months since the whole “fake dating” charade started, and now the both of you were invited to this extravagant ball that Velvette had arranged.

How she was able to afford it, you weren’t quite sure.

“Are you ready?” Vox asked absentmindedly, scrolling through his Voxtek phone, not even sparing a glance at you.

You glanced down at your champagne cocktail dress, something Vox had gifted you in public a week ago in preparation for the ball, along with the red bottomed heels that you personally loved. “More than ready, dear. Ah, wait,” you walked towards the overlord before lifting his head up so that he had to rip his eyes from his phone and look at you instead. From his TV head, you could see your reflection slightly, and the moment Vox realized what you were doing, he tensed, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“What have I told you about using my head as a fucking mirror?” You just scoffed, rolling your eyes as you fixed golden necklace number 3. 

Your lack of a reply ticked Vox off immensely; he fucking hated it when you did that. Everyone always obeyed his sense of superiority; you never did.

You finally took some time to study what Vox was wearing, and grimaced. “Is that really what you’re wearing to a ball? Didn’t Vel give you anything to wear or something?”

Vox groaned slightly before finally standing up from the couch, fixing the lapels of his usual coat. “Fine, I’ll change.”

“Make sure you’re matching with me! Everyone has to be convinced!”

“Fuck off!” 

And you might as well have tried Charlie Morningstar’s idea of redemption just for the Lord to take you because Vox took so. Fucking. Long. To change.

You pinched your nose bridge, walking towards his bedroom. You both had separate rooms, after all, just in the same apartment in the tower to not attract unwanted attention. 

You gripped the doorknob and sighed loudly; just what was taking him so long? “Vox? What the fuck are you doing in there?-” You cut yourself off, staring at Vox’s mess of a bed, heaps and heaps of clothes on it. “Are you seriously fucking kidding me right now?” You deadpanned, leaning on the door frame.

He glared at you, and you took notice of how the only garment he currently had on were his pants. “Oh, shut the fuck up; give me another 10 minutes.”

“It’s been 30!” You exclaimed, heaving in a deep breath before walking towards the bundles of suits on his bed, scouring through it to find a navy blue —almost black— suit, along with a champagne tie; you knew Vox of all people had one.

You finally fished out exactly what you were looking for, and glared at him, the coat and its pair of pants in one hand and the tie in the other. “It took me less than a fucking minute, max. Now, go,” you threw the suit at him, which he successfully caught. “I’ll be waiting outside. And I swear to fuck, if you take another 30 minu—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He retorted, rolling his eyes.

Dear God, this ball is going to be insufferable.

“Oh, (Name)!” A familiar voice exclaimed from the mass crowd of people, causing you to perk up with a grin. “Rosie!” You turned your head, exchanging kisses on the cheeks with her. You had no idea where Vox went, and honestly, you couldn’t care less.

“So, how’s your new lover?” Rosie asked, her signature grin plastered on her face. You tilted your head, placing a hand on your chest. “Well, he’s been such a darling to me! Always giving me beautiful gifts and such.”

The overlord you were talking to raised an unconvinced brow. “But how is he in private? Does he really treat you as well as he does in public?”

Your mask almost broke for a second. Does Rosie know? 

You shrugged it off with a small laugh, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my dear Rosie. He’s such a gentleman behind closed doors, too.”

She laughed the same way you did. “Well, I’m sorry for askin’. I just want to know if my friend is being treated right, that’s all.” You nodded, agreeing with her statement. Nothing wrong with wanting to know if a dear companion is doing well with their new partner, right? 

“And besides, he always looks at you with such formality; I almost thought he was using you.”

…Pardon?

Your eyes slightly widened when you looked at Rosie before you quickly recovered. “If you’ll excuse me, Rosie.”

“Oh, of course!” There was confusion in her voice, but she didn’t pry.

Swiftly, you searched for Vox in the large number of people currently at the ball; seriously, how the fuck does Velvette know this many sinners? 

You and Vox needed to be more persuasive in terms of being a “couple”. If you two were claiming to be lovers and yet none of that micro body language bullshit that you’d hear some of the “Vox and (Name) enthusiasts” would be talking about on some social media platforms was happening, you might as well fake dump him right then and there.

You spotted him conversing with some people in the media, and rolled your eyes, cursing internally. He saw you just as you walked towards him, and Vox’s brow raised in confusion. “(Name)? What are you doing—?”

“Vox.” You strained a smile, your voice sickeningly sweet. Your hand gripped his arm tightly, making him wince ever so slightly. “A word in private?”

The sinners he was previously talking to snickered to themselves and backed away, giving the two of you some privacy. 

When they finally left, Vox’s smile disappeared from his screen. “What the fuck do you want, (Name)? You know we don’t have to stick toge—”

“We aren’t convincing enough.” You simply stated, causing him to stare at you. After a couple of beats, he laughed, a hand on the one gripping his other arm. He picked it away from his coat with ease before letting his hand linger on yours to save face. “Oh, (Name), I show my ‘affection’ for you everyday; how is that not—”

“The way you look at me, apparently—” “Oh my fucking God, stop cutting me off!” He exclaimed, smiling at those who were starting to stare at you. Vox took a deep breath before tightening his grasp on your hand, making you wince this time. He cleared his throat before speaking. “What do you mean, ‘the way I look at you’?” His voice was incredibly forced, as if he was trying his very best to not explode at that very moment.

You sighed, pinching your nose bridge with your other hand, the one not being gripped by your fake partner. “I was just informed by someone that you look at me like I’m just a business partner, and not a romantic one. And I’ve read some comments, and people in paparazzi say that you barely touch me when we’re in priva—”

“Oh, like this?” Vox suddenly grabbed your waist with one arm, the other one finally releasing your hand from his grip. “How should I look at you, hmm?” His now free hand hooked a finger under your chin and lifted it, making heat rush to your cheeks.

Jesus, he’s never actually done anything this physical… ever. And you can’t believe you’re saying this, but it horribly turned you on.

“What, speechless already?” Vox’s voice was low and sultry, which was a contrast to how he normally talked to you in front of people. It was as if he was only talking to you, not the masses. 

His hand on your waist trailed down lower to your hips, and with the way the dress hugged your body, you could feel every crevice of his claws. 

Vox pulled you closer to him from his grip on your waist, grinning when he saw the way you raised your brows. The hand on your chin began to cup your cheek, and you cursed at yourself for instinctively leaning on it. “You want to be more convincing? Let’s be more convincing.”

You could feel the hundreds of eyes on the both of you as he slowly hooked your leg up and around his thigh, his hand at the bottom of yours. You couldn’t help but shiver at his touch, your gaze darting everywhere to find out who was watching you two.

“Eyes on me, (Name).” Vox ordered, but it wasn’t the kind that he would bark out to his subordinates. It was gentler, more to capture your heart than your attention.

What the fuck are you doing, Vox?

You decided to play his game, so you quirked a brow up as a smile ghosted your lips. “Yes, sir.” 

And at the moment, the both of you realized that this was a game of who will break first. 

“You know, I must say…” You whispered, your hand resting on his chest. “You looked better without this on.”

“(Name),” he chuckled tightly when you traced the way his coat fell on his body. “Are we really doing this?”

“Doing what?” You smiled innocently, messing up his tie ever so slightly; you knew how much that ticked him off. How much untidiness could quite literally be the end of him. Hell, when his room was a mess, he took another 20 minutes to fix everything. “Well, we have to convince the masses, don’t we?”

“You’re playing a dangerous fucking game,” Vox warned.

“Now, who’s to say I don’t know that?” You tilted your head, leaning forward with a smug smirk. 

Vox’s eyebrows raised humorlessly before sighing. “Alright, so we’re doing this.” And with that, the hand on your cheek brushed against the line of your jaw before wrapping itself around the back of your neck, the tips of his claws slightly digging into your skin. You choked down on a moan, not ever wanting to give him the satisfaction of actually melting in his touch.

He noticed the way you held yourself back, however, and he stared at you, amused. “Well, I didn’t know someone here had a thing for pain.” He teased, chuckles escaping his throat as he did so. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” You snapped quietly, making him hum. “No, I don’t think I will.” He calmly stated, the fingers of the hand on the bottom of your thigh lingering somewhere higher, causing your breath to hitch. “I’m sure you love the sound of my voice.”

“You’re fucking egotistical.”

“And you love the way it gets stroked. Though,” he grinned, his face slightly lighting up when your leg stayed wrapped around his thigh even when he removed his hand from yours. “I’m sure you’d like to stroke something else, no?”

Your eyes widened at his boldness; what the fuck was he implying? You barked out a nervous laugh, your cheeks heating up even more. You cursed at yourself when you felt the way Vox’s words traveled straight down to your arousal. “You’re insane.”

“Oh, yeah? It’s your fault for driving me so fucking crazy.” His hands roamed around your body, and you’re suddenly incredibly aware of the amount of people not staring at you, half of them hoping you two would fuck right in front of them.

Your jaw tightened as you tried to regulate your breath. “Vox, don’t you think this is a bit much for the public eye?” You attempted to reason out, but he only tilted his head before grinning. “You’re right. They wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

With that, he grabbed you by the wrist and started to drag you to somewhere private, leaving a trail of gasps and whispers behind.

“Vox!” You exclaimed, shock coating your voice. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“Well, you said it was a bit much for the public eye,” he explained, looking at you with a grin, his eyes half lidded. “Then we’ll do it in private. Plus, it looks good on camera. I saw a couple people taking pictures of us.”

You snorted; you noticed them, too. “Yeah, they’re not really discreet—” You cut yourself off with a yelp when Vox yanked you closer to his body by your waist, his knee slotted right in between your thighs. It was only then that you realized that he had you sandwiched between him and a wall. 

From this angle, you could barely see the faint glow of the event a couple of feet behind Vox; it wasn’t so close that they could fully see what you two were doing, but it wasn’t far enough for sinners to not accidentally walk into a rather… scandalous scene.

That idea alone sent shocks down to your core.

“Oh, do you enjoy the idea of fucking me in public?” Vox laughed out, an amused grin plastered onto his face. It was just as shit-eating as the one who bore a smile all the time, and you couldn’t wait to wipe it off of his face. “Just shut your fucking mouth, will you?”

He rolled his eyes, his hands roaming around your body once more. You had to admit, he was… so fucking skilled with them. 

You almost immediately melted in his touch, but you stopped yourself from giving him the pleasure of a reaction. But nothing slides in Vox’s vision; he saw you. He saw the way your eyes fluttered closed before snapping wide open, as if your brain was shouting at you to not give in. Hell, he felt the way your body reacted to his hands, the way your hips slightly twitched up as he grazed them.

And to think the both of you were still fully clothed. Imagine how much damage he could do to you when you weren’t. 

Vox’s knee began to steadily rock you, causing you to purse your lips in a feeble attempt to stop yourself from making any noises of pleasure. Yet that expression of yours only fueled Vox’s desire to tease you, to prove to you that he can be as convincing as he can.

His hand hovered just above the high slit of your dress, his fingers threatening to slip under it. “What’s wrong, (Name)?” He taunted, the smug grin never leaving his face. “Why so silent all of a sudden?”

You let out a groan through gritted teeth; hopefully he would assume that it was one of annoyance. Though, you both knew it was far from that. “We aren’t an actual fucking couple, you know? Y-You don’t have to…” You trailed off, taking in a deep breath as he slightly quickened the pace. 

His laughter was rich and low, condescension dripping like venom. “Oh, but you told me that we needed to move the people a bit more. That I didn’t touch you when we’d be alone. That I didn’t look at you like I wanted to fuck you at every given moment…” He leaned closer to your ear, his voice nothing but a growl when he spoke. “You think I care if they find us here? Fuck, I hope they do.” You squirmed slightly at his words, shivering slightly at his voice. You hated admitting it, but it really was one of the main reasons you could even stand his ass. 

He rocked his knee a bit harder, pushing you against the wall. The small distance between your chest and his closed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, small yet strained moans coming out of you. You could feel the way your slick probably stained a spot on his pants; they were dark enough for it to be mistaken as black, anyway. No one would notice, right? 

As soon as your moans reached his ears (does he even have ears?), he groaned before letting out a tight chuckle. “You’re such a fucking freak.”

You scoffed at his words, clearly offended. “Excuse me? You call me a freak when we literally live with the freakiest fucking pimp in all of Hell?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You opened your mouth to speak before hesitating. You grunted, heaving an annoyed sigh. That alone gave Vox a satisfactory answer, dropping his knee. You stumbled slightly, your body missing the feeling of his knee against your sex. You glared at him, though Vox noted the way your slight desperation tried to hide itself. “What the fuck, Vox? I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” The overlord huffed out, his hands leaving your body and landing on his pants, unbuckling the belt that was snatching his waist even more. But before he could fully unzip his pants, he looked at you with a raised brow, his face entirely serious.

That was then you realized he was asking for your consent.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. He teased you for what felt like forever and he’s only now asking for your consent? Might as well slam it into you.

You rolled your eyes, a small smile gracing your lips. “Whatever. Do what you want, I guess.”

Vox quickly studied your face before grinning; he knew what you meant. “I’m going to break you until your pride flies out of the fucking window.” He declared, finally freeing himself from his now too tight pants. His claws slipped under your dress from the slit, the pointy tips making your shudder in anticipation. Your stomach flipped when he grazed your soaked underwear, barely rubbing his thumb softly against your clothed clit with a grin. “Jesus Christ, (Name); you’re so fucking wet.”

You whined involuntarily, gritting your teeth together. “Just do it, Vox.”

“Do what?”

…

Holy fucking shi—

“You know what I fucking mean!” You exclaimed, the embarrassment of having to elaborate reaching your cheeks. Vox furrowed his eyebrows as his teasing smile grew, feigning confusion. “No, I don’t, (Name). Why don’t you tell me?”

God, this man is going to be the death of me. “Vox, don’t make me do this—”

“Fine then, I guess I’ll just—”

“No!” You shouted out, making Vox look at you just as he was about to re-zip his pants. You pursed your lips as he waited in expectancy. You cursed under your breath, your undead heart pounding out of your chest. “Goddamnit, Vox, just– just fuck me…”

“What was that? I didn’t get that, sorry—”

“Fucking Christ, Vox, fuck me!” 

Ah, there it was. Vox rolled his eyes exasperatedly, that shit-eating grin still on his face. “Fine, fine. No need to fucking shout.”

You deadpanned, staring straight at him as he swiped your underwear away, leaving your pussy bare. You bit your lip at his touch; the way he was subtly teasing you making you clench around nothing. He gave himself a tantalizingly slow stroke before aligning his cock to your hips, his tip easily sliding between your folds and just in front of your entrance. “Fuck…” You cursed under your breath, but you knew you had to do this. For the press, right? Totally!

Vox groaned at how wet you were, guiding his cock to rub against your clit, just to see you squirm. 

And squirmed, you did. You let out a strangled moan, your hand covering your mouth. But just as you were about to do so, Vox grabbed your wrist before making both of your hands wrap around his neck, something tying itself around your wrists, forcing you to keep your arms there. 

You stitched your eyebrows together, looking at Vox in alarm. He finally put his tip inside of you, moaning softly before answering the question you left unsaid. “Don’t try to muffle your pretty noises, (Name). We both know it wouldn’t fucking matter in the end, anyway.”

His claws gripped your hip before cupping your ass as he thrusted slowly into you, only stopping halfway for you to adjust. He glanced at your flushed out expression, your eyes already half lidded. It looked like you desperately needed this, and if you were to be honest, you really did. Ever since you announced that you were in a “relationship” with the overlord of media, it was like people were repulsed by the idea of fucking you, or more specifically, terrified of the idea of crossing Vox.

Remember, you two had hated each other behind closed doors for 6 fucking months. 

“Vox, you know damn well I can take more,” you growled, glaring at him with a sneer. He raised his brows in amusement at your sudden hostility, and inclined his head slightly. “Alright, then. You said so yourself.”

With that, he thrusted himself into you until your pelvises touched, causing you to let out a guttural moan. Jesus fucking Christ, this man was not playing.

“What, can’t take it all?” He teased, giving you a pout of pity. Your jaw tightened once more, using the fact that he had your wrists tied up to your advantage to pull him in closer, your breath heaving. 

The way his cockiness dissolved as soon as you reeled him in stroked your ego, and you smirked smugly. “I can. Don’t underestimate me, you fucker.”

Vox snapped out of his shock and laughed lowly, almost fully pulling out. “Feisty.” He snapped his hips against yours, earning a small shriek of bliss and surprise from you. He pushed you against the wall even more, so that your back was firmly pressed against it. 

His thrusts were slow yet hard, well calculated to hit your g-spot every damn time; it was making your mind fog up. Vox’s grunts at every thrust weren’t really helping you, either; in fact it was making you even more aroused. 

Suddenly, he quickened his pace, still pulling out until only the tip was inside before shoving his cock inside you with no remorse and no effort whatsoever; you were making this incredibly easy for him. “Fuck…” He let slip before gripping both of your thighs and wrapping them around his waist with ease, snaking an arm around yours afterward. 

With this new position, Vox was able to thrust in deeper, making you cry out in ecstasy. He groaned at your voice, and at the way your walls were tightening against him. “Holy fucking shit, (Name).” He almost laughed out, his hips finding an even quicker rhythm. 

You refused to actually concede, finally and fully immerse yourself in the intense pleasure that Vox was giving you. It was as hard as he was inside you, though, since you slowly felt your better, logical judgment leave you. Every single time he slid in and out of you like it was nothing, you couldn’t help but let out a stifled moan, trying to mask it with a gasp. He was genuinely so fucking huge it made you wonder how. 

Unfortunately for you and your pride, you felt that stupid fucking knot that you had tried to ignore tighten in your stomach, making your breaths heavier than you wanted it to be. Vox had taken notice of this, and grinned, staring at you with such arrogance you just wanted to rip his stupid head off of his stupid neck. “Are you seriously going to cum already?” 

You laughed in his face, a string of pants following suit. “You wish.” You spat, trying your best to not let any noises of pleasure escape you. 

Vox raised a brow before barking out laughter, nodding his head slightly. One of his hands removed itself from the bottom of your thighs and moved painfully slowly towards the top of it, and you immediately knew what he was going to do.

“No,” you muttered in horror, and he just cackled at your reaction. His fingers barely lingered near your clit as he spoke. “I did tell you I was going to break you, didn’t I? I’m going to make you so fucking dumb on my cock, you’re not even going to remember your own fucking name. Is that clear?”

Vox massaged circles against your clit, rendering you unable to think properly, or pull yourself together. Your eyes fluttered closed as his fingers do sinful things to you, all the while thrusting himself into you. 

When Vox spoke once more, his voice was slightly muffled, as if there was some sort of effect on it. From that, you knew what he was trying to do, despite him knowing that it doesn’t really work on overlords.

“Is that clear, (Name)?”

You decided to give into that at least, and nodded your head weakly. “Y-Yes. Yes, Vox.”

He brightened at your answer, his grin beaming. “That’s my good girl.”

At his paise, you clenched around him, your high just a couple of thrusts away, and—

Waves and waves of pleasure and pure bliss crashed into you as you finally reached your orgasm. You let out a throaty moan, which then turned into sobs when you realized that Vox wasn’t stopping any time soon. Or at least, wasn’t stopping until he would cum inside of you.

Vox’s fingers never left your overly sensitive clit either, which makes you tighten the way your legs wrapped around him. At that, he cursed under his breath, his hand finally leaving your clit and finding solace around your waist. “I’m going to fucking cum inside you, yeah?” He babbled, his screen dim and glitching slightly. Oh, so that’s what happens when he’s close. “I’m gonna stuff you with my fucking cum, you hear me?”

“Yes, Vox.” Was all you could respond with, your breaths turning into mere hiccups. You couldn’t help but whine at the thought, your breath hitching when you felt the way Vox’s cords against your wrists tighten. You didn’t want to admit anything you were thinking aloud, since what you were thinking right now (if you could even do so) would be how right Vox was at fucking you dumb. You were so incredibly close at losing your mind, and wait– no, not—

“Are you going to fucking cum again?” He asked condescendingly, his hips ramming into yours with such force, you could feel the way his tip was teasing your walls. You groaned at his words, frustrated at how good he made you feel. “Shut the fuck up and finish inside me already.”

“Oh, so you want me to do that?” He pestered you through pants, making you whine. “Vox!”

“Yes, ma’am. Jesus, you’re really fucking feisty.” 

Vox started to rut inside you as if the both of you didn’t have an event you had to get back to (which you totally forget about, by the way). You felt the way his aching cock twitched in you, accompanied by how soft whines were coming out of his throat.

Honestly? Hearing Vox like that made you reconsider this whole fake dating thing.

“I’m so fucking close.” He said through gritted teeth, and you couldn’t help but moan in agreement, feeling that same knot tightening and tightening, and holy fucking shit he felt so good inside of you, you just wanted to—

The both of you came with loud and guttural moans, your chests heaving. Vox’s hips allowed himself a couple more slow and hard thrusts as if fucked his cum deeper and deeper inside of you, causing some whimpers to be ripped out of your throat.

The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, barely listening to the way you were panting your lungs out. Your tongue practically lolled out of your mouth, your eyes half lidded. You weren’t necessarily fully fucked dumb, per se, so you could rub that in Vox’s face later.

“Don’t think we’re finished, my dear.” Vox growled, his voice husky. Fuck, it was like he read your mind. You laughed nervously, looking at him in his eyes for the first time the whole session. “What do you mean?”

“What’s your name?” Was all he asked you, causing you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You carefully placed your two legs on the floor again as you responded to him. “(Name), why?-”

“Exactly.” Vox concluded, slipping out of you with a groan. “You still remember your name. You’re lucky we’re not in private otherwise I would’ve done way more fucking things to you.” He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned his cock of his and your juices before doing the same to your now swollen cunt, the texture of the fabric making you grimace. 

You looked down at the pool of cum that accumulated on the ground, and pursed your lips. Your head stayed tilted down as you stared at Vox, batting your eyelashes. “Is that a promise?”

He just scoffed at your words, shaking his head slightly. “We have to go back. Just leave it there.” 

You realized he was talking about the puddle of cum on the floor, and glared at him in disgust. “Excuse you? We have to at least clean this fucking shit up—”

“Leave it to someone else.” He ordered, making you roll your eyes. You allowed him to grip your wrist (which now had a red line from his cord)  and walk you back to the party. You stumbled on your own feet when you finally recognized what heels you were wearing, along with the fact that your legs were shaking violently. 

The overlord you had just fucked noticed it, and sighed irritatedly, hooking an arm around your waist to keep you balanced. “Don’t get fucking used to this in private.” He grumbled immediately before a smile appeared on his face, nodding at the whispering crowd that was finally coming into view.

“You didn’t answer my question before.” You muttered so that only he could hear it, smiling as you snaked an arm around Vox’s neck for the masses. 

“What, about the promise?” Vox snorted, a smug grin replacing his charismatic one. “You better hope it isn’t.”

“I don’t just hope; I fucking expect it.”

“Be careful with your words, (Name). You might regret it.”

You just shrugged. “We’ll see if you actually stick to what you say or not. Or maybe you’re just all bark, no bite.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Vox retaliated with a strain, though you knew he was now clearly enjoying your banter.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

And for the first time in a while, you heard Vox genuinely laugh. At your cockiness or at you yourself, you weren’t quite sure, but a win is a win.

#hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader #vox smut #vox x reader smut #fake dating #slight hate fucking #teasing #creampie #overstimulation #there will most probably be a part 2 to this #very very slight bondage #semi public sex

[highonakuweeds]

POV: Your Alastor's wife and it's October

(A/N: I didn't read anything beforehand, so if you see any weird mix ups of whatever, I'm sure your brain can ignore it thank you <3)

“My dear!” Alastor exclaimed towards you, who was at the bar, conversing with Husk. Your attention changed so that Alastor had it fully, which made Husk roll his eyes and chug a drink down. “Mon amour! How are you this hellish evening? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Ah, yes well,” Alastor tugged on his coat, his grin somewhat strained. It wasn’t obvious for the majority of the others, but it was to his wife. “Just some irritating demons on the streets, is all; nothing to worry about.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Alastor, I know what that face means.” 

He raised a curious brow. “Do you, now?”

“Mhm.” You sipped the last of your champagne, and thanked Husk for the drink, earning a nod from him. “It means you’re horny.”

…

…

…

“What? Noo!” Alastor attempted to brush off, his eyebrows stitched with disbelief. “You know how I am about anything sexual, dear. I—” “Yes, yes, it’s not really your thing; we all know that. However,” light flickered through your gaze as you bore into Alastor’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t escape that month you hate so much.”

Alastor remained quiet, his eye twitching. You shrugged. “I mean, hey, if you want to wait it out, suit yourself. People will ask where you’ve gone, and you don’t want them to give in to curiosity, do you?”

He hesitated before grunting, grabbing your wrist, causing you to yelp. “Fine.” 

As your giggles of amusement echoed in the halls, Charlie tilted her head. “What’s he going to do to her? Oh, no, I hope it isn’t anything horrible…”

Angeldust snorted, swirling his pink cocktail before sipping. “Nah, he’s probably gonna fuck’er.”

“What!?”

“Angeldust!” Vaggie exclaimed, causing the spider demon to look at her in surprise. “What? You saw the way he looked at her, plus the way she was teasin’. I thought it was obvious.”

Cherri bomb grinned. “No shit they’re gonna fuck. But it’s kinda weird, don’t cha think? The edgelord finally wants to bang someone.”

Charlie thought about it. “Well, they are married.”

“Wait, they’re fuckin’ what now?”

“Wow, is this month that tough you gotta drag me to your room, Alastor?” You teased, causing him to groan. “You don’t even want to know how much I had to endure for the past couple of days.” He replied. 

Your brows furrowed. “Honey, if it was hurting you, you could’ve asked me way sooner. You know I would’ve been more than happy to help you.”

Alastor laughed, locking his door, and whisking the swamp side of his room away to not let anything disturb them. “Of course, you would’ve been, darling; you’re always so willing to help. Speaking of which, would you be a doll and soundproof the area?”

You cocked an eyebrow, obliging nonetheless. With a flick of your wrist, blue wisps coated his bedroom, leaving some sort of shiny residue scattered in the room. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was going to be a rough night for the both of us…”

“Oh, shut it.” Alastor mumbled before walking towards you. He crashed his lips onto yours, cupping your cheeks with fervor and slight desperation. You let out a noise of surprise before giggling and allowing your husband to do whatever he needed to do. You snaked your arms around Alastor’s neck, scratching the base of his ears, just how he liked it.

He let out a soft sigh of bliss, his steps making the both of them stumble onto the bed, with him on top of your. Before, Alastor normally just locked himself somewhere private, usually his radio tower, until this stupid cycle wore off. But now that his wife, his technical mate, was right where he was currently residing, it was way more difficult than it was before to be cooped up.

He had attempted to take matters into his own hands, both literally and figuratively, and the only thing it gave him was sheer shame and embarrassment, so he had stopped trying. So, to have you below him was such a relief.

And yet, he wanted more. He needed more. 

He needed to taste you, and mark you, and show every single demon that came your way that you were his wife. No one else’s.

Alastor pulled back from the kiss, planting small yet precise marks on your jaw, causing you to softly moan so quietly it riled him up even more. 

He tried his best to keep his composure calm, to hold himself back. But he truly couldn’t with how foggy his mind made everything become. Alastor sunk his teeth into your neck, right below your pulse. You let out an animalistic groan, your back off of the mattress already. “Alastor, love, calm down—”

“Apologies, my dear, but I don’t think I can.” He responded tightly, licking the wound he inflicted fervently, shuddering as the metallic taste hit his tongue. You chuckled, sweeping his hair away from his face. “Alright, then. Do whatever you need to, sweetheart.”

Alastor tried to think clearly, to regain any sort of control he had in his sexual desires, but he so miserably failed. The urge to bite you and mark you and make everyone know that you were his overruled his mind. It was the only thing he could ever think straight at that moment.

“Mine…” He muttered, kissing and sucking on almost every single part of your neck. His hand had other plans, though, as it traced your figure until it reached your hips, and it squeezed hard. 

You let out a yelp and a moan, your breath practically nonexistent as you chuckled. “I’m yours, darling.”

His hand, even if it was just one, grounded you to the bed. You found yourself unable to move, not that you cared, anyway. Alastor rarely needed you in this sort of way, and to have him like this, so desperate, so needy, it made you feel things.

You were not quite sure what was going on hearing-wise, but you felt yourself saying Alastor’s name as a plea. He groaned, pulling himself away from your neck with a strained struggle. He drank you in, his smile still present. You almost laughed as his eyes didn’t match that, though, since they were looking at your outfit in disgust. He adjusted his position to balance himself before snapping it away, leaving you bare.

You gasped at the drop of temperature, causing you to scoff. “Alastor! At least warn a demon.” His deer ears twitched as he descended onto your collarbone, peppering kisses everywhere. “I apologize again, (name). I just…” He took a deep breath in and felt his eyelids fall heavy. “You’re intoxicating…”

At the mention of your name, you stirred slightly, feeling the heat pool down to your core. Alastor must have noticed this, however, since he started trailing kisses around your chest, his favorite part being the underside of it. He nipped at the skin and sucked like a dog in heat.

Well, a deer in rut, but one must digress.

You squirmed in your position as he bit down right before he resumed his trail of kisses down to your stomach. He could feel your arousal like it was his own, and that put him in quite the predicament.

“Aren’t you going to take care of yourself first, Al? You’re practically bursting.” You quietly asked, a hand running through red tufts of hair that was tickling your torso. A low growl escaped Alastor’s throat. “I will; have some patience, love.” Me? You’re literally bulging. “But right now, I need a taste of you…”

Your eyebrows twitched as they creased together. “What are you trying to do—” You cut yourself off with a yelp as Alastor planted a soft kiss on your clit, making your jump. “If I go too far,” Alastor started, gazing up at you through his bangs. “Tell me.”

You nodded, knowing that he never would go too far, and if he did, he would be too busy enjoying his meal to understand that. 

Alastor’s grin just stretched wider before probing his tongue into you, causing you to shudder with a groan at the feeling. You played with his ears, your breath being stolen away. Honestly, if it weren’t for his cannibalistic and homicidal instincts, he would’ve landed a spot in Heaven with how gentlemanly he was, giving you pleasure before indulging in his own.

Alastor was fully aware of the growing tent in his pants, but he paid it no mind, which he was glad he was at least able to do. With that, he knew his mind hadn’t succumbed to the worse thoughts that he dreaded the most.

He lapped and sucked up all of the juices you had to offer, his pace unforgiving and sloppy. You could feel your own claws puncture the mattress with how tight your grip was on it, but you were sure Alastor wouldn’t care later on. He doesn’t really…sleep.

With how quickly Alastor was working against you, you felt that knot in your stomach appear just as fast, making you curse under your breath. For someone who doesn’t really like anything inherently sexual, he sure is a master at it.

Alastor felt it. He felt you getting closer, and he wanted nothing more than to see you writhe in pleasure all because of him, and nothing, or no one, else. The hand that was gripping your thigh to the point of wounds hooked your leg onto his shoulder for the time being, holding it in place as he quickened his pace.

The only thing you could do was whimper and plead and whine. And every single syllable that dropped from your mouth went straight to his arousal, and he cursed internally. A string of violent curses escaped his wife’s lips as you tugged on Alastor’s hair, which led him to hiss in both the pain and pleasure it shamefully gave him. 

“Close—Alastor, wait—!” You managed to cry before snapping, waves of pleasure crashing into you intensely. You let out a demonic groan as Alastor drank you until your high faded.

Your head flopped onto the fluffy pillows of Alastor’s bed, staring at the red head of hair just where your abdomen started. The radio demon rested his head on the inner side of your thigh, catching his breath slightly, which caused a bit of feedback from the voice effect he always had on.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked, tilting your head. Despite the fact that Alastor kept smiling, his brows twitched. He was far from satisfied. 

You laughed, and Alastor could hear a bit of nervousness laced into it. Not that kind that was associated with fear, but the kind that was associated with excitement. 

It’s going to be a long night for the both of them.

You sat up properly before crawling to be in front of Alastor. “It’s quite unfair that I’m the only one bare right now.” You teased, undoing the buttons of his coat. Though, even as you did, he knew how much you enjoyed that power difference.

Alastor didn’t resist as you unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt underneath. You had stopped undressing him when his shirt hit the strain in his pants, and he felt an annoyed grunt scratching his throat at the lack of friction. “(Name), dear.”

“Hm?”

“You have to stop teasing…”

You scoffed out a laugh. “Is the radio demon attempting to beg right now?” Alastor’s face immediately turned bright red, the cold air that was hitting his bare chest not helping him, either. “Chérie, don’t make me do this—” “What, beg?”

You had figured out how to make it more fun for you, and more cruel for him.

It made him so embarrassingly hard.

Your positions were now flipped, since Alastor had tried (and failed) to cage you in, and so when he crawled towards you, you swiftly went behind him. So now, his back was towards the headboard, his ears pinned back slightly. Without his coat, you could really have a nice view of his small deer tail which was currently tucked in between his legs, barely covering the bulge in front of his pants.

His grin twitched. “So, how are you planning on taking advantage of our current situation?”

You laughed, a finger to his lips to shush him, which made an irk mark appear on his forehead. “Oh, dear Alastor, have some patience! You wanted me to have the same thing just minutes before, right?” Your finger swept to his chin to lift it up as you leaned in closer. So close Alastor heard your pulse.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your lips mere centimeters apart. Alastor sighed, ready to feel the sensation of your soft lips against his, but he only felt the cold air hit it instead. He opened his eyes to find you grinning with an eyebrow raised. His brows dropped as his smile strained, just as much as his pants were. Alastor cleared his throat before giving you an amused gaze. “Do you really think that would work on me?”

You shrugged, leaning forward to straddle yourself on him. He cursed under his breath (a rare scene, honestly. You savored every moment) as he felt himself buck against you. “Well, it did; there’s no real debate about it, hun.” You cupped one of his cheeks, in which he melted into, while tracing the outline of his deer ears with your other hand. You laughed breathlessly. “I’m sorry, your ears are just…absolutely divine.”

Alastor fought back every single moan and whine that you were pulling out of him from playing with his ears. “The things you do to me…” He whispered as he grinded against you slightly, that needed friction making him see stars. 

You almost lost self control at that statement. Just the way Alastor was slowly breaking under you purely because you were touching and prodding at his ears gave you such a power surge. Your hands made their way to his pants, where they undid them and freed Alastor, who had just hissed at the cold air hitting his cock.

You stared and ogled at the sight before you, your hand wrapping itself around it. Alastor tensed, his shoulders raised slightly. He let out a shaky breath, watching his own chest rise and fall to calm him down.

He was already leaking, and you used that to your advantage. You stroked painfully slowly, causing him to shiver. You glanced at Alastor’s expression with a sly smirk. “You’re enjoying this a lot, dear.”

Your tone was mocking; Alastor heard it. He tightly chuckled. “How would you know?”

“Alastor. You’re so hard right now.”

“Oh.” 

You snorted before increasing your pace against his cock. Alastor cleared his throat, feeling his mind fog with desire and lust, the two things he really wished hadn’t plagued his mind too much.

You felt a tentacle wrap around your left thigh, and your breath hitched. “Al?-” It started to massage your pussy, making you gasp and grip Alastor’s cock a bit too tightly.

He grunted in both pain and pleasure, that brief moment of extreme bliss washing away again. “(Name), love, I think you should calm down this time.”

“Well, it’s not my fault your stupid tentacles start to just—” You cut yourself by sighing in relief, the same tentacle you were referring to going in circles against your already sensitive clit. “I swear.” You muttered, quickening your pace against Alastor.

Suddenly, you stopped your hand, cursing when the tentacle wouldn’t do the same. At that lack of motion, Alastor swore under his breath, his grin showing annoyance as he grunted. Yet even with shocks of pleasure spreading across you body, you kept a steady face, the smile on your face absolutely shit-eating. “Is someone annoyed already? Doesn’t feel good when pleasure’s just taken from you, does it?” You swiped you thumb against his tip which made Alastor stir. He let out a low, dragged-out moan at the sensation. you repeated the motion, amused at the way Alastor took a sharp inhale and exhale, as if regulating his senses.

Alastor hated the way you pouted at him as if he were some pitiful creature. “Awh, does someone crave what he wants?” You scoffed, swallowing a gulp of saliva as the tentacle on your pussy quickened its pace. you attempted to think of something, anything, that could postpone your orgasm.

Ah, you knew.

Angeldust said something about Valentino having a waterboarding kink. Honestly, the thought of Valentino was enough.

You grinned, tilting your head as you set your pace to be irregular. When you knew Alastor was at the edge, you stopped, then when you knew that it subsided, you would continue. “You thought I wouldn’t make you beg for it?”

Alastor couldn’t help the lewd noises he was making, letting out strangled moans and whines and huffs. Just who do you think you are, making the radio demon beg for you?

Well, you are his wife.

Alastor tried to fight the urge to give in, but the way you were teasing him and playing with his pleasure made him want to snap. He averted your gaze as he muttered something incoherent, but you knew what it was.

You slowed your pace on his cock again, tilting your head in feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that. You better speak up.” Immediately after you spoke, you bit your lip and cursed internally. You were so desperately close because of what Alastor’s tentacles were doing to you. Hell, you weren't even sure if Alastor knew that his tentacles were pleasing you to the brink of insanity.

Alastor’s pride and ego got the better of him, though, as he mumbled it again, just a bit louder.

“Alastor.” You warned. “Speak. Up.” You quickened your strokes before slowing them down again, smiling as you got the reaction you wanted from Alastor.

“Hhngh, please, darling…” He moaned, his eyelids heavy. Alastor’s grin twitched once more in annoyance. “Please, finish what you started…”

You were going to say something before you felt you coming close. you cursed under your breath, something you didn’t know if Alastor heard you or not. And just as you was about to reach the highest peak, 

The tentacle against your pussy stopped its rubbing, and you whined, arching you back. You were grateful for it, though. You could tease Alastor even more.

“Awh, Alastor,” you taunted. “Surely you can do better than that…right?” You placed a kiss beside the tip, and Alastor suppressed (but horribly failed) the need to moan. “Beg like you mean it.” 

Alastor accidentally whined, his eyebrow twitching once he heard himself. “Please, darling… don’t tease me like this…” You gazed into Alastor’s eyes, a look of mischief on your face as you stroked quicker. 

He moaned heavily, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. “Fuck, please let me finish already…!”

Your eyebrows shot up at that crisp swear, you grin stretching from ear to ear. “You’re getting there, love.” The speed of your strokes gradually increased. Suddenly, you felt the tentacles again, but this time, it was just one. It was two.

You discreetly attempted to glance back, getting interrupted by the thicker one prodding your entrance. you gasped, trying to regain your composure and control over him. You tried your best to focus on Alastor instead. “You’re so cute when you beg; you know that, right?” You propped yourself on your elbows instead of having your other hand support you to play with Alastor’s cock more.

More quickly than he would have wanted, Alastor felt himself losing control. He let out an animalistic groan, gritting his teeth. His shoulders tensed once more as he felt himself getting close. He bucked his hips into your hands, the friction making him whimper ever so slightly. “Please…please, please, please please…”

You had never heard Alastor so whiny, so helpless. It was unlike him, just allowing you to assert yourself in this kind of situation. But hey, you didn’t mind. In fact, you loved it.

You should visit more often.

The hand closer to his tip massaged it with the thumb, making Alastor cry out in response. His breath was shallow and ragged, and his voice was breaking. His radio filter was long gone, and just the sound of his real voice made you go crazy.

You felt yourself nearing your climax, too. With how quickly the two tentacles were either massaging or pumping into you, you realized it was inevitable.

You decided it would be ideal if you came together.

You immediately quickened your pace against him, the fact his whole intimidating facade was gone with how he was muttering pleas made your heart pump, if undead hearts could do so.

Alastor felt kisses against his inner thigh, and that was what sent him over the edge. With a cry of your name, strings and strings of white translucent fluid released itself from his cock. His hearing was compromised with a ringing sound, but he heard you moan his name out just a couple of seconds after him, your grip against him tightening as you never stopped stroking.

His breath hitched as he realized that you weren't going to stop. “Wait, (Name)—” He whined, his head hitting the pillow behind him. It was too much; the feeling, the pleasure, just everything. He hadn’t even touched himself in decades, so to just have someone stroking him even after he came felt painfully pleasurable.

Thankfully, you stopped after some time, your grip loosening as you caught your breath. Somewhere during that time frame, your right hand made its way to his thigh, acting as a pillow for your cheek. your eyes trailed down Alastor’s twitching cock, and you grinned, liking a stripe from base to tip.

He shivered, his eyes closed as he held his forehead. He placed his hand down onto the mattress and… Why were there punctures in it?

Just as Alastor was about to ask, he noticed movement behind you, his brows furrowed. Then, he saw it. He saw the shadowy tentacles he knew were his.

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the now flushed out you who was half-lidded with your ass in the air. “My dear?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Why are my tentacles…out?”

“Huh?” You glanced back and sweatdropped as you finally realized just how thick they were. No wonder You felt full. “Oh, they–” You cleared your throat. “They were…fucking me. I thought you knew that.”

Alastor’s eye twitched before he let out a chuckle. “Well, I apologize for that, dear. Though, I hope you can still take more, since,” he sat up straight, helping you fix your posture before picking you up by your hips and straddling you against him, your pussy just mere centimeters on top of his cock. “I’ll be handling you now.” Alastor glanced up to look you in the eyes. “Do you consent?”

“You know I always do.”

Alastor huffed out a laugh. “Whatever you say, darling.” He strained himself as he held every ounce of the animalistic urge that he had kept constrained as he made you sink down onto him. A guttural moan forced itself out and he started to grip your hips tighter, using that as a way to bounce you on his cock.

You always knew and understood how mating seasons work, from their cycles to the subject’s attitude during. Well, you needed to read about it; one can never have too much knowledge, right?

You weren't sure about one thing, though: if demons experienced the same kind of cycle that their animal counterpart did. Well, this explains it.

It was obvious that Alastor was attempting to help you adjust to his throbbing dick but just the idea of being inside you drove him towards the edge. He bucked his hips at the same rhythm you bounced on him.

Your mind was clouded with lust and pure bliss. Alastor’s cock was kissing your cervix one too many times, and it sent you to absolute ecstasy. your lips formed a lazy grin as you kissed him hungrily, causing his hips to stutter.

With no ounce of shame left in his body, he allowed himself to groan and whine at every thrust he did in you, savoring how warm everything felt. How ironically heavenly you made him feel. 

The only unfortunate thing in Alastor’s mind was the desire to breed. To fill you up until his cum splattered onto his mattress. He wanted to make a mess of you, and possibly himself in the process. Alastor needed to make sure you knew that you were his, and his alone.

Somehow his lips made their way to your neck, savagely nipping and sinking his teeth into your flesh until he tasted metal. That sweet intoxicating flavor that always drove him wild.

you dug your nails into Alastor’s back, feeling your climax rising up again. It wasn’t long until you were spewing curse words that would make a normal man break down and cry as you felt the cord in your stomach violently snap again. 

But Alastor wasn’t stopping. He started to prioritize his release the moment he slipped inside of you. His pace never faltered; in fact, it quickened at an inhuman speed, causing your gasps of air to be just hiccups.

“You’re making me see stars.” He whispered into your ear, desperate and whiny. He could feel that build up happening again, and this time, he was going to get what he wanted as quickly as possible.

Fuck, just the idea of him cumming inside of you almost broke him. He knew that since you were both sinners, you could no longer have children, but it would never hurt to try, right?

His grip against your hips tightened to ground you in place as moaned as loudly as you had ever heard him. He pumped inside of you, thrusting harshly yet slowly until he felt himself fully inside you. you gasped, feeling your pussy stretch until something absolutely huge squeezed itself inside you.

Wait, did Alastor just–

Loads and loads of cum painted your walls, filling you up to the brim. Alastor’s teeth bit your shoulder as he released inside of you. you felt your mouth dry as you finally gasped for air, involuntary moans coming out for you.

You stayed like that for a minute or two, chests heaving as you caught their breath. Alastor’s knot finally deflated, yet it felt like he didn’t want to leave the position. However, you were still at the hotel, and the others might probably be looking for them.

Even worse, they might think they did something steamy.

Well, you did, but Alastor didn’t want that thought in their heads.

He planted a kiss on your forehead, his lips slightly burning from your skin. “We should get going, my dear.” He whispered, his radio filter back on.

“Did you know you could do that?”

“Do what, love?”

you looked at him through lazy eyes. But even if you did, he could practically feel the mischief beaming through them. “Knot.”

Alastor stitched his eyebrows together, confused. “What’s…knotting?”

you tilted your head. “You don’t know how your cycles work?” He averted your gaze, his ears flopping down in embarrassment. “I’ve never really done this before, dear.”

Your grin turned devilish. “Well…”

Oh, deer (hah). It’s going to be a long night for them.

“Where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, looking around. “I’ve been trying to call him for an hour or so but I haven’t seen him.”

Angeldust snorted before it turned into a cackle. “Like I said, toots! He’s probably in his room, fuckin’ the shit outta (Name).”

“I really doubt tha–” “Good evening, everyone!” Alastor exclaimed, his usual outfit now on. His grin remained constant as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “I do apologize for not being present for the past couple of hours. I had some business to do.”

“Yeah, her.” Angeldust mumbled, a smirk on his face. He lifted his face to look at you. “How was it?”

You just smiled, tilting your head. At that, the whole crew saw what you were trying to show.

Marks and marks of bites all over your neck, bruising it a little. They were surprised that it wasn’t bleeding with how wounded it was. 

Angeldust’s mouth went agape with a smile. He wasn’t entirely serious about that statement, but for it to actually be true? This was a day he never saw coming. “Ho-holy shit!” He exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t realize it was actually true!” 

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #rut season #the way I got slightly interest in a deer's rut season #dear god what am I doing with my life #reader is alastor's wife #reader can kind of manipulate sound #lord have mercy on all of our souls