Chapter 1: Cautious Rain
Rainy days in Hell were rare. The bleak landscape didn’t really leave much room for added dreariness, for it was already so wrought with horrors and unsatisfying scenarios to begin with. Rain, however, was calming in a sense of filling the silence with the ambience against the windows, the crackling of the fireplace, and the heat that emitted off of the body you lay upon. It was a snug positioning, a humorous one if that were your type of understanding; the plush, thin, silk blanket shrouding your bodies in an embrace.
Despite the two of you remaining in a comfortable silence; you couldn’t help but feel the most at ease you had been in quite a while. The Hotel was vacant, for Alastor would never dare reveal this sort of physical interaction in public otherwise. It would have tarnished his image as the Radio Demon. He couldn’t have people, the peasantry, thinking he had gone soft.
You were spread across him, laying comfortably between his legs as he read Rebecca. It had come out after his untimely death, only by a few years, but the psychological aspects of it was something he found rather fascinating. You were comfortable atop him, and he lazily held you around your waist while he leisurely stuck his nose deeper into the carefully crafted novel. Hell was filled with uncomfortable warmth most of the time. Unbearable searing heat. But this was something toasty, something kind and delicate.
It was infinitely more pleasing to him than the tomfoolery that was outside this careful space. He was absolutely positive that it had everything to do with you.
Despite your comfortable positioning and having no desire in moving from it for the foreseeable future, you found yourself experiencing the beginnings of boredom. There was only so much your mind could imagine after you spent the last few hours staring at everything you could physically see. The slow rise and fall of his chest, the soft crackling of radio static with each breath; barely audible and rather easy to tune out. Your mind could easily wander to different scenarios of what the other citizens of the Hotel were up to, but your sudden laziness ultimately forbid you to.
Moments like these were something to cherish.
Subconsciously, you raised your hand to trail across his dress shirt— despite it being only the two of you, only his very best self would be presented. Nevertheless, he disregarded his suit jacket. Even Alastor could be a creature of comfort, a demon of desire in some aspects of his life. His shirt was as vivid as the brightest parts of his hair, fanciful in its style and silken to the touch as if it were made of the finest materials. Coming from him, you expected no less.
In the beginning phases of your relationship, all original touch had always been initiated by him. When you would attempt, you noticed how he would skirt away from your advances, or avoid you entirely. But as he came to trust you, which was a feat in itself, he allowed you to be more bold in your access of him, physically, at least. He was a demon of mystery, always brewing up some secret scheme behind someone's unsuspecting back. For your sake, you hoped it was not the same for you. You found yourself doubting Alastor would allow someone, anyone, this close if it were just for his sake of amusement and entertainment.
Your movements were delicate, trailing along the slope of his thin physique, your fingertips uncertain in movement and ultimately unsure if it were the right decision to even be touching him like this. He found the gentle ministrations of your hands to be pleasing. They were not distracting him from his relaxation, if anything, the sweet caresses were only aiding him to find an inner peace. To you, you weren’t even sure if he noticed, for you surely didn’t until you snapped out of whatever daze had fogged your mind. He did not stop you from your idle actions of boredom; only further intensifying his attention on the book that was situated in his left hand.
It seemed your own actions, however subtle, caused his own thumb to gently sweep back and forth over the supple curves of your lower back. This brought you to attention, a small sigh escaping your lips as you rested your head against his chest. He was exceedingly taller than you, his frame towering over your own on any given day; often times leaning down to accompany your arm in his own. Now, though, it only aided in appeasing your boredom; gentle motions growing with intention as you wondered how far you could get before he ultimately stopped you.
There was a desire that settled low in your stomach, brought on by impish curiosity and playful behavior. Never once had you been given the chance to feel him as he was, in all of his natural glory. Your fingertips ghosted to the button of his shirt, peeking up at him from your resting place on his lithe chest, as if you were making sure he wasn’t aware of your own scheming plan. Where it would lead, you weren’t entirely sure— you would bet on it that he would shut down your advances before you could get to a certain point.
But that didn’t mean you couldn’t try.
There was a desire of nothing inherently sexual, but more of a need to be closer to him, to be tied to him in every possible way. Slowly, you brought your hand to the top of his buttoned shirt, delighting in the feeling of silk against your skin with unyielding strength beneath. You could have just been satisfied with that, with only the stretching of fine muscles beneath skin, flexing under your hands with the minute rise and falls of his chest.
Your fingers, so cautious in their exploration, venture up towards the buttons on his shirt. You lightly tapped on one, just to see if he would react in any sort of way. When you found that his eyes remained fixated on his book, you slowly pushed that button out of the loop, baring clear grey skin to your greedy eyes. There was a selfish desire that flooded in your veins at that moment.
You worked on the second button, eyes narrowing in focus.
Alastor was a demon, but he had never looked more sinful to you than in this moment. Collared shirt open, chest slightly bare for you to experience— and that smile that was relaxed right now; it made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flutter. He was one of the most vile, disgusting creatures you had ever met, a being of pure chaos disguised in a dapper clothed man; and you had unknowingly, subconsciously, fallen for him.
Even in death, you were a dumbass.
The thought in itself made a small smile twitch at the corners of your lips, eyes crinkling in delight. At least your humor hadn’t been damaged in the fall. You felt his thumb continue the mindless motions against the small of your back, his hand alone nearly encasing the majority of it. For a moment, you felt the sharpness of his nail graze your flesh, but it ended before you could even make out a true reaction. With gentle movements, you used your arm to push yourself further up his chest. You were small enough to not cause discomfort in the process, compared to an individual like him.
You felt emotional— for a reason unknown as you hesitantly dipped your head beneath his, catching his eye just before your lips ghosted over the juncture of his neck. You didn’t move your hand to his chest, despite your overwhelming need to feel him as he was, instead having your breath fan across his exposed flesh that had been previously hidden from view with his gentlemanly attire. You didn’t open your eyes, closing them as if you were afraid of what reaction he would have to your sudden affections. You hadn’t kissed it yet, but you were borderline.
Alastor paused at a particularly riveting scene. There was a soft warmth fluttering over his skin; his eyes dropped to see your hand hesitating over his chest. He was wondering when you had gotten so shaky on him. His arm tightened about your waist for a moment, pulling both you and himself into a more upright position. It had your lips bumping up against the column of his throat.
“Let me touch you, please.” Your words were soft against his skin, a whisper; a ghost of what could be. You weren’t sure why you were so damn emotional.
The buzzing sensations that started to lace about his skin were different; for he had never quite experienced something like this before. Physical pleasures had been offered to him many times, but he never indulged. The thought of some scum of the earth touching his body normally made him sick with anger. The thought of you was far more pleasant. More than that, the feeling of your soft curves and gentle lips pressed so cautiously to his skin, it was delicious. Your pleading whimpers were like ambrosia in his ears.
He could be your God.
“Darling, what has you so flustered?” His movements; his voice that had lowered an octave, had you shaking. He kept his grip firm around your waist, delighting in how you trembled against him. His grin had split up his face— you were glad you couldn’t see it.
Slowly he released the tension around your waist, dragging his hand up the center of your back as he pulled himself into a half-lounging, half seated position. Claws danced across your back, threatening to pierce through your clothes— your skin if you weren’t careful. You brought your legs up to straddle his thin waist. Though you might have been on top of him, you knew he was the one allowing you to remain there. You couldn’t bring yourself to care— emotion bubbling to the corners of your eyes and running down the side of your cheek, gingerly allowing your lips to connect with his neck.
He watched as your eyes turned glossy and little diamonds of tears trailed down your sweet face. This just wouldn’t do. He felt your head duck into him, like you were trying to hide from whatever you were experiencing. He would temporarily allow such cowardice in his presence. Slowly, he felt his way up your back, gingerly rubbing here and there until he cupped your wet cheek.
“Now, now, what has these waterworks flowing?” He was patient, eyes softened around the edges as he took in your quivering lips and misty eyes.
“I don’t... want to say,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes at his almost maternally disappointed expression. You didn’t often tell him what to do, didn’t take the initiative to even begin to think it was safe to talk to him like that, but it was easy for you to forget how dangerous, how predatory he was in soft moments like these.
“My darling girl,” you heard the radio static crackle in the air, could feel it against your exposed skin: it felt like running your hand alongside a television screen. “You will answer me.” The soft tilt of his head betrayed the urgency of his command. His fingers that had been softly resting on your cheek lowered, pinching your chin in his claws.
While the grip was still soft enough, you knew not to test the shark-infested waters.
“I just want...” your words trailed off, your blush intensifying as you leaned into his hand. “I want to feel you.” Your hands ran gingerly up his shirt, feeling each indentation of lithe muscle beneath the fabric. You leaned into him, brushing your nose against his; your lips ghosting across his own.
He patiently waiting for you to collect your thoughts, his hand moving from your chin to allow you to get nearer to him, a singular thumb claw brushing against your subtle bottom lip. His eyes were trained on the movement; the softness of the flesh beneath the pressure of it. You were smart enough to read the thinly veiled threats in his words and in his grip on your cherub face. For a long moment, the two of your only shared sighs and breaths, exploring the emotions that had begun to pool deep within the two of you.
“Do you know how to love?” Your eyes were lidded, bringing a singular hand up to trace the structure of his face, his own lips— similar in manner as he was with you, moving his hair that was normally neatly kept out of his eyes. Your touches were like butterfly kisses. It was an open ended question. One he had secretly contemplated himself several times.
He found it an entertaining question.
“I know how to love you. Is that not enough?” The ghost of his lips brushed against yours with each word he spoke; his smile now one of genuine behavior. It was small, but still there. Did he know how to love in a general sense? Of course not. Love was for the peasantry trying to escape the perils of the Hell they had earned in their time alive. Love for him, however, was rare, and it was far more fragile and delicate than he would ever consider. But, loving you, that was something that had become second nature to him. You had endeared yourself to him through a series of mis-steps that had been oh so entertaining, and a gaggle of charm that you didn’t even realize you possessed. Could he love? Other people… other demons? No, simply put. Could he love you?
Endlessly, and for the rest of eternity he had left to endure.
Your eyes had brightened considerably, and he found it only fitting for the moment to press his lips sweetly against your own, his smile falling into action of his gentle affections. The heat that filled his chest at the action was unexpected, but entirely welcomed; his kisses starting slow and almost uncertain in the development, but growing more confident after caress. You were inexperienced in this field, but with his motions, it buzzed your mind in a sensation that made you feel drunk.
His lips were soft, plush against your own as you breathed out a heavy, emotional sigh. The sharpness of his teeth were such a contrast, it had you delirious. His gentle kisses were laden with the promise of danger. Warmth spiraled over your skin in a sinful frenzy, the added heat in the room causing you to grow uncomfortable with the blanket that covered the two of you. His book had been placed to the side, forgotten for now, he disregarded his monocle— one of his hands falling to your waist, pulling you tighter against his chest as if he were afraid of losing this moment. As if you were a figment of his crazed mind, to which he had frantically sought out to fill the gaping void that had long been without a companion.
You felt his teeth graze teasingly across your bottom lip, scratching the surface but never fully going deep enough to draw blood. His second hand was against your own chin, partially against your neck simply by the sheer size difference between the two of you. This was more than entertainment. This was a masterpiece. His sharp claw swept across your tear-stained face in such a gentle manner that insisted you were a fine piece of china.
Never in his existence had he ever experienced arousal like this before; it was something primal that was awakening within him, settling low in his stomach. He shifted under your thighs, eager for more of this eroticism that you were displaying. While it was tender, and sweet, he could not deny the fullness of your chest that pressed against him just so, or the way your hips were oh so softly grinding down on him. He was sure you were not even aware you were doing so; a subconscious reaction to the pleasantries that were occurring in this moment.
It was mesmerizing how the subtle movements had him growing hard in his slacks. He was not used to the feeling of having too much clothing on. He wanted more from you. He wanted more that you could give him. He was ready to take you— to claim you in the most carnal of ways. The thought of digging his claws into your skin, spelling out his name was something that nearly made him bite down on your lip right then and there. He wanted to brand you.
You pulled your lips away for a moment, and he was surprised that his head naturally navigated after yours, as if he was continuing to chase the feeling of fullness that was just beginning to engulf his world. Your eyes, originally closed, opened just enough to gaze into the deep maroon glow of his own; “Al,” you ghosted your lips over his again, your face burning with shame and desire as you sighed his name breathily against him. Slowly, you leaned your forehead against his, your voice straining because the last thing you wanted to do was explain yourself.
So you didn’t.
Slowly, you trailed your hands up his chest, blindly unbuttoning his shirt and struggling because your fine motor-skills were not up to par currently. That only had the demon between your thighs chuckle darkly into your ear. The sudden feeling made you squirm uncomfortably before eventually relaxing in his movement; face darkening with heat from secondhand embarrassment.
“Allow me.” He rose one deft hand and one by one more of his skin was bared to your naked eye by his own hand. Your ears were ringing, his voice drowned out against the blood rushing in your ears. You were suddenly glad that the majority of the room was coated in a shroud of darkness; the only light emitting from the fireplace that was positioned next to you. His body, if you would have looked, wasn’t crafted by the Roman Gods, nor any artist; it was normal; abnormally thin but perfect in its own way.
Your loose-fitting shirt, simply worn for comfort, rode up against your stomach as he repositioned you against his hips after removing said attire; bare skin against skin made chills rampage against your body; a shuddering sigh being breathed against his neck as you tucked your head between the crook of it once more. It was something that you felt protected you from his normal scrutiny in his gaze— the dangerous teeth that threatened to tear you in two if you messed up.
He was surprised to find himself short of breath. He tried to rein in his emotions and the physical sensation that was quite literally making his skin vibrate against your own. Still, he found it hard to when you were such a tempting morsel to him. He tried to sate his desires by carefully running his hands down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with precision. Your shirt was loose, thin, and he was able to see the teasing of your nipples through the fabric. Normally, he would not notice such a detail, but right now, he was zeroing in on you.
Your chest was heaving and it filled him with masculine pride at being able to turn such a stubborn girl into a shuddering mess a top him. Your head was still nestled into his shoulder and neck, so he took the chance to slide his hand up your shirt, tracing the velvet skin of your back. He would shred this damn top if he needed to. The feeling of his hands exploring your skin made you sigh heavily— for it was the only thing you could do. Your one arm hung behind his neck, the other against his other shoulder. “Can I touch you?” Your lips grazed his neck, eyes shut and your body melting against his own; enjoying the feeling of his gentle affections.
This girl was so ridiculous. “You are touching me, dearest.” With that, his chuckle rumbling against your own chest, you felt a smile spread across your face, the smallest of laughs falling from your lips. You felt his head lean further against yours, your hands caressing his back in a gentle motion. If this was all you would get, you were satisfied; laying against him in in such a manner that could have been considered erotic. You felt his hand carry itself further up your back, making shapes between your shoulder blades. Leaning back, you gazed up at him in awe; he simply looked down at you through his lashes.
“No,” you whispered, his gentle ministries against your back had paused for a moment at your answer before starting up again once you leaned up to his face. Your lips hovered against his own; his eyelids lowering as did your own. Your hands, unraveling from behind his back and running down his chest. They weren’t harsh movements, but soft and uncertain; watching his expression the entire time in case he decided enough was enough. “Can I touch you?” Your hands trailed down his abdomen, hovering just over his stomach— just before the treacherous sign of his arousal lie.
This woman was either daft, or scared. He would never allow himself to be in this vulnerable a position with just anyone. But mayhap, you were just nervous. It was understandable, considering you had little experience, as much as him at least. Which was none. But he had thought given the current circumstances you would be a bit bolder. “Darling,” he whispered against your own lips as the radio static cleared around you both: “Please, touch me.” His hands grasped around the small of your waist urging you closer.
A dam broke inside of you, everything that was being held back simply snapping. A heated sigh adorning the air, your body leaning fully against him as his hands traversed your back. He started to tug at your shirt and you were only too happy to help him rid you of it. As inch on top of precious inch were revealed to him, you blushed at the look of satisfaction in his eyes, and the underlying hunger that rested there. His hands, though inexperienced, were confident as they mapped up your body, leaning you back against the soft cushioning of the couch.
His claws delicately tapped up your skin, testing your sensitivity. He was not disappointed. He noted how your stomach muscles twitched against his movements and how little coos left your lips, your back rising off of the couch as he ran his palms up to your ribs. The sounds that emanated from the back of your throat were nothing short of a subconscious reaction; the crackling of the fire highlighting your bodies with sinful delight. As his hands came closer to your breasts, you felt an odd tension fill you. Expectation rather. A feeling that was foreign as much as it was new and exciting.
He looked down, your body was practically glowing with want, your chest heaving with the breaths you were taking. You looked pretty as a picture beneath him. It was much better than that, of course, because you were part of his reality. You were heaving in gulps of precious air because of him. You had that glazed look of desire in your eyes because you wanted him. And you were laid out in this state of drunken wanting for him. He had felt inebriated on power before of course, but this was different. This was pure and unfiltered domination that you had just handed over to him.
It made his mouth water.
He dipped his head down to your ample chest and took a nipple into his mouth. You tasted divine. The innocent gasps you were creating were even better. It was especially wonderful how your hips, ever the innocuous things, were thrusting up into him, begging for something more. His tongue swirled around your nipple teasingly, a soft moan released from the back of your throat as you reached up and run your fingers through his hair. You sighed out his name, eyes closing, drowning out every distraction, every sound that dared to take you away from this little slice of heaven.
His body froze above you as your hand touched one of his ears. That felt…. Good. He now understood why your hips were moving as they were, because now he was rutting into you. The friction had shocks zipping up his spine in awe-rendering pleasure. You felt perfect. The moment you opened your eyes again to see his expression, you were met with the sight of a lifetime. His eyes were closed, but most important of all— he wasn’t smiling. His brows were furrowed as if he were in some sort of war with himself, his hips meeting your own for a moment before he suddenly came to the realization that you had only a moment before.
The motherfucker wasn’t smiling.
“It seems you’re not fully dressed.” You chided before you even realized what had left your lips; eyes wide with awe as you reached up and swept your finger gently against his own. A harsh breath was released in amusement from his nose— the lack of a smile was instigated to show that he trusted you.
“You should see me in a moment, darling.” He leaned back from your welcoming body to kick off his slacks. Of course a demon like Alastor could do it with such grace and elegance, it almost made you mad, but that was part of his infuriating charm. Before he could get back on top of you, you sat up on your elbows, eyebrows knit together in confusion before the most dastardly idea became a reality in your mind. Leaning over towards him, you allowed an impish expression to drift across your features; you were drunk with the feelings he had given you by minuscule motions alone.
“Lemme make you feel good,” your words were slurred, withholding any sort of desire to be subtle about it.
This woman, this divine creature, this lewd darling, he felt himself twitch at her words. He took the few steps needed in order to reunite with this stunning girl. You slipped to your knees onto the carpeted floor before him, kneeling so submissively. He allowed you to shyly wrap your lips around the head of his cock.
Never in his life, or unlife, had he experienced such heat. He had not meant to gasp, but at the purely sublime feeling of your lips touching him in such an intimate place and way, he felt his knees shudder. He feared they very well might buckle with how your shyness was very suddenly giving way to enthusiasm. He put a hand on your head just to steady himself. Your tongue was swirling around him, tasting everything he had, every last drop of his weeping precum. Your saliva was starting to drip down your chin, and it had begun to drip down his shaft. What you lacked in experience, you surely made up for in excitement.
Bit by bit, you tried your best to swallow him. He was tall, and very proportional. You feared that should you take him fully, he would be in your stomach. The thought thrilled and terrified you. You could feel your own arousal sticking to your thighs. He tasted so wonderful. He tasted like himself, and that was all you needed. You pushed yourself further, carefully sliding your hands up his slender legs. His thighs jumped under your touch.
All of this stimulation was almost overwhelming him. The sight of you on your knees before him, the feeling of your sweet mouth wrapped around him, trying to devour him, sparks were dancing over his skin and through his bones.
An embarrassing, high pitched moan, most unbecoming of a demon of his caliber, caressed your ears. Your stomach plummeted, curling and twisting around in your abdomen; your guts being squeezed by the sheer primal desire. His neck stopped supporting his head, he knew he was going to have to sit down and collect himself if this was to last.
You felt the curl of his fingers in your hair, tugging gently, but hard enough that you pulled off of him with a loud ‘pop!’.
Those eyes of yours, so enchanting as they gazed upon him. “Come darling, let’s adjourn this to a more private area.” His voice didn’t hold the confidence it normally had; it was shaky—like his knees—, uncertain, unpredictable.
You rose, wobbly like a baby deer, as you had lost some of the feeling in your legs from kneeling. He placed a steadying hand on your back and with a wave of his hand, you both were transported into his room. It felt like jumping off of a cliff into cold water; coming up for air when you regained your surroundings. His arm remained around you, keeping you grounded.
He grabbed both your hands in his, stepping in front of you. There had been many moments of tenderness tonight, but he was going to make sure that there were more. He wanted you to know how alright it was for you to touch him.
His hand skimmed up your side, eliciting chills over your skin. His fingers tapped against your cheek, making sure your innocent gaze was set on him. It was. Your eyes were locked on him. He was horrible, he was beautiful, he was vile, he was pristine, he was everything you had ever wanted. You stood up on your tiptoes, reaching for him with your lips. A small smile, full of genuine adoration spread over his lips as he leaned down to press his own back to yours. He felt that same heat flood back into his body. You quickly shimmied out of your pants— wearing them would do you no favors.
Your hands were now restless; they slid up his chest, your nails briefly scratching across his nipples, before curling around his shoulders. You jumped, and he was there to catch you. Your legs wrapped around him, and you should have been ashamed at how wet you were. Your sex was rubbing against his stomach, almost at the bottom of his ribs— he was going to be soaked.
Your kisses were turning desperate, needy, it was intoxicating. His hands were holding you by your thighs, so dangerously close to where you needed him most. You were trying your damnedest to get him to move, but he was a bastard.
“Al, please.” Your hands found the back of his head, weaving your fingers through the thinner parts and knotting in the thicker strands of hair. You leaned forward, kissing wherever you could reach: his sternum, his neck, his chin. It was pathetic how you felt like you would quite literally cease to exist if he didn’t do something. Move to the bed, anything. You felt his grip tighten against your legs, claws indenting into your flesh and causing rivulets of ruby red to drip down your thighs alongside the liquids that had begun to pool down.
You didn’t care. The pain was only something that gave you a relief of something happening.
“Please, what?” That damned laugh track sounded around you both. He was smirking, thoroughly enjoying the look you were giving him. It was worth it to see how serious you were. His features softened into something more befitting the situation as he took two long strides over to his bed and settled you both down onto it. He pushed his back up against his head board, tucking a strand of wayward hair out of your face while you nervously looked down. “My dear, are you sure- ” He had to make sure that you were not going to regret this. He might have been despicable, but when it came to you… well, when it came to you he was different.
“Shut up.” You words were without venom, a gentle smile falling upon your lips.
That was all he needed to hear. His hands settled around your hips, nearly spanning your back. Your own much smaller hands clutched his chest, nervously looking down because how was he supposed to fit inside you?
“I think you need a helping hand, darling.” He gripped you tight and rolled you beneath him. You only gasped as you bounced on the bed, a small laugh falling from your lips before it faded out; a feeling of nervousness and nausea creeping up your stomach. Your eyes flickered up to his face, the smile that had originally been absent for the short amount of time now reappearing on his face, but tight-lipped and strained.
He was holding back.
“Come here,” you cooed, reaching your hand to his face just as he leaned into your palm.
He could not resist this siren’s call. His lids slid shut as he nuzzled his lips into your hand. This was tenderness, affection, care, that he had never wanted, much less received. He had been deprived of such luxuries until now. A hand trailed down your side, gripping one of your thighs in his hand, and wrapping it about his slim waist.
He was going to break you.
Your stomach clenched with anticipation as he lowered his body onto yours to block your vision from what was about to occur; perhaps to protect your mind from the vast distortions that would start to develop simply by the size differences, or maybe just not to frighten you. You were forced to look up at him, your breathing shallow in nervousness as he trailed both of his hands up to your own, wrapping his fingers in between the spaces. You could feel the chill of your drying arousal against his stomach when he let his stomach press against yours for the briefest of moments.
There was a movement, and then a solid warmth was pressed against your folds. There were short thrusts, getting used to the movement for him, uncertainty plaguing most of the movement before you captured your lips with his; offering small words of encouragement that were mostly for the sake of yourself than for him. At last, you felt a dull ache. Being split open in such an intimate way was different. There was warmth, and there was pressure inside you. Your insides were being stroked in a way that you had never been able to achieve on your own. You felt full, stretched, tight. He was going slow, you knew it was for your own sake due to how much he was shaking, but he wanted you to get used to this.
He wanted to get used to this.
“Al…” You whined, tears forming at the base of your eyes at the feeling of literally being torn apart. The pain was agonizing and you wanted more; emotions were tied together, cautious, terrified, electrified. There was nothing more you wanted in that moment than for him to get the fuck out of you but also fuck you into oblivion.
He heard you. Your pained pleasured whimpers. Your legs were clamping around him subconsciously, as much as you sounded hurt, your body betrayed you. You craved him. And by GOD you were going to make him addicted to you. He was feeling you from the inside out, a complete and utter dominion over your sweet little self. Your eyes showed your adoration, and the way your ankles were trying to hook themselves behind him, he truly was tempted to just rip you in half. But he would wait until you could handle it.
His sweet little darling, always biting off more than she could chew. He let go of one of your hands to hold your chin.
“Keep your eyes on me, darling.”
Your heart quite literally missed a beat, your breath whisked away by his words alone. But there was no pleasure that stemmed from his work; no promise of relief from the pain that made you want to scream; at long last, he hilted himself deep within the crevices of your body, whispering sweet nothings to you during the entirety of the process. He didn’t move, burying his head between your shoulder and neck, lacing your skin with kisses and gentle nips; just enough to tide him over from literally ripping out your throat right then and there.
He needed you to feel what he was feeling. He knew he was hurting you, but you needed to feel the rapture. His hands were not as steady as he would have liked, but he reached down your body, right above where you both were connected, and pressed, gently at first. His fingers were curious, searching for ways to make you see stars.
When he felt your insides twitch around him, he bucked into you and started circling his fingers in that same spot, over and over like a broken record. Your back lifted off the bed, a breathy moan finally drifting from your lips. He would break you so only he could please you. He wanted to wreck you with pleasure, and by the way your walls were fluttering around him, he felt that he was close. His hips began gently rocking, not pulling from your depths, but merely rocking against you, using the force from his own body to press even sweeter against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
You felt yourself hiccup, the tears that had begun to flow freely had now begun to abate in intensity; but still threatening to repeat if he changed his rhythm too quickly. You regretted this, but you also loved it; the way his fingers pressed with just enough force, circling in slow figures that made your knees give out. At this point, you had clenched your free hand into the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric.
There wasn’t much more he could take of this. He felt like he was melting. You were ruining him. No, no, this would not do at all. He summoned one of his shadows. If you needed more, then he would give you more. He felt your body jump at the feeling of two more hands on you, softer than his own touch, but just as real.
The shadows drifted across your skin in long strokes, circling the more sensitive parts of your body. They focused on your neck, flushed with sweat, and your nipples, darkened from lust, they even pressed under his own fingers, pressing deeper, almost gripping you from the inside. Yes, he would ruin you.
You were going to scream. Pleasure, fear of what he had summoned, pain from his intrusion that only began to dull from the ministrations of his hands and the hands that he had created. “Al, please fucking move.” You gasped, back lifting off of the bed for a moment when he pressed into the bundle of nerves so sweetly.
He pulled out of you just enough that when your back left the bed, he slammed himself back in, the shadows wrapped about your body buzzing, ensuring that there would be no other who could make you scream. He felt fire flood his veins as he refilled you. Your divine body so broken and spent beneath him, there truly was no finer entertainment.
Despite his efforts succeeding in absolutely destroying your insides—truly, you hoped he wouldn’t make you work tomorrow—you couldn’t help but feel a gradual heat pulsing inside of your stomach. “S-send them away— Al, please; I just want you.” Your words were jumbled, shaking, his thrusts deeper and harder with each word that left your precious lips.
The shadow that had been wreaking beautiful havoc on your body was dismissed. If it was just him that you wanted, then that is what you would have. He just needed to hold out a bit longer. He was never one to do anything half-force. He wanted you thoroughly his.
Your body was shivering, not from the cold, but from the blistering heat that scoured your body; tears of pleasure beginning to roll down your cheeks, sniffling pathetically beneath his full glory. He lowered his lips to your own to silence you, the lewd sounds of your arousal and most likely blood only ushering you closer to the promise that you had been searching for the entire time. “ Please…” you whispered against his lips, hiccuping as he held your hand in a bruising grasp. The bed rocked audibly at this point.
He needed to finish you. He was not going to last. This heat was driving him mad. He started pulling his hips back farther, making sure to press upwards as he re-entered you. He was going to caress you from the inside. The feeling of your fluttering velvet walls rubbing so perfectly against him, sucking him in deeper… He had you right where he wanted you.
There were a flurry of pleas ushered against his lips as he continued his brutal onslaught, and then you uttered in a fit of pleasure: “ Please… please cum inside of me.” You hadn’t even known what you requested, too set on reaching nirvana; your personal slice of heaven, with him. The pleasure had originally been dull, but with each stroke of his cock against your insides, you weren’t quite sure how long you’d be able to hold out. He filled you so nicely.
That phrase… Those words… They were going to break him. His forehead dropped onto yours. He needed the closeness, he needed this, he needed you. “Of course,” He trailed his lips down your neck, sucking a pleasured bruise into your skin while he started to thrust into you with earnest, his fingers starting to cramp with his measured circles on your abused flesh.
You cried out. It was in a frenzy that you came. It hit you like a freight train. Heat flooded your body through your toes and trailed up through your bones like warm honey. Your back arched against him, sweat slicked bodies writhing against one another for just one more morsel of pleasure. He finally let himself go, spilling into the depths of your willing body.
He hunched over your smaller form, breath heaving. He grasped your face once more, placing a sweet kiss on your mouth.
“And that, my dear, is a rainy day well spent.”
You felt like punching him right then and there, but instead, exhaustion plagued your mind and you curled up against his frame, his fingers idly trailing on your back.
You supposed it was.
Chapter 2: Sickeningly Sweet
my sweet tooth IS KILLING ME.
Celebration was merely an illusive, absent thought in Hell; it simply didn’t exist. And yet, for whatever reason that you were uncertain of, Charlie had decided today would be a good day to celebrate the official opening of the Hotel, despite the fact that the only actual guests were the normal residents and few from off the streets that were simply there for the free food. Nevertheless, Charlie was over the moon about the fact that they even set foot into the Hotel to begin with; her excitement and enthusiasm entertaining but also exhausting over long periods of time. Your attire was simple, comfortable, but just classy enough to appear like you had put in some effort.
You would have simply worn your slippers and sweatshirt if you could have, but thanks to the insistent poking and prodding of Alastor, he absolutely refused to flaunt you off when you looked like that. If there was one thing that annoyed you about him, it was the fact that he always needed everything perfect. You were not a dress up doll, you had told him, swatting his hand away when he pinched your cheeks in a condescending manner, a frown pulling at the edges of your lips. Your annoyance only spurred his desire to pester you more. Sincerely, you thought sometimes that you were in the company of a very tall child at times instead of a feared, vile, disgusting individual that had killed countless individuals.
Nevertheless, you managed to agree to put on something that was more suited to his extravagant tastes.
It was a silken dress; the same fabric as his own suit, airy, dark, adorned with red roses. Feminine but in a way that would match his color scheme while pertaining to your own personality. It was pin-up era-esque, something of his own century and making with a wave of his hand: a luscious texture adorned the curves of your body in a dangerous fashion. You felt out of your element wearing such a flowy dress, the ends tickling your knees as he took your hand and spun you around without much warning, the fabric creating a ring around your waist. You couldn’t help but giggle through the spin, an ambient sound of swing music being emitted off of his person, only to be cut off abruptly when he spun you back around.
Currently, you were in his room, him insisting on keeping you away from prying eyes until you were perfect.
You looked ravishing. It was normal for you to make anything look so effortless and elegant, even in the most comfortable of attires, but he was going to take this opportunity to dress you to his tastes. The sweet little twirl you did made his chest tighten. Such an innocent little creature you were. You were almost perfect. With a spin of his finger he watched as the loose tendrils of your hair curled up into a lovely pinned up-do. He could now properly see your lovely neck. If he paid enough attention, he could see the arteries there, pumping blood through your body. Yes, this was much better. He eyed your feet, perhaps he could go just a bit farther. He tapped his chin, pretending to be in thought about what to put you in.
Your brows rose as you felt stockings adorn your legs and short kitten heels lift you from the ground. Of course he would. “I don’t know how to walk in these,” you motioned down to your feet, your humor tickling your mind at the thought of him being enthused over the fact that he could dress you to his desires for this single day. Your feet wobbled in the small heels, incredibly uncertain on how to even begin to walk in such stilts. You would break your ankles before you even made it down the stairs.
He hummed, endlessly amused at how your eyes were focused on your feet. He stepped forward, his shoes clacking with the movement. He held out a hand, grasping your much smaller one in his. “Darling, we can practice-- put your weight in the heels of your feet. Soon enough you’ll be able to run.” He was being smug… and you just knew he was doing it on purpose. The corners of his eyes were pinched as his grin engulfed his impish features. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully.
“Of course you would know how to walk in heels,” your own grin would never reach the levels of his seemingly endless one, but your own was so big that your cheeks were beginning to hurt.
“I have been around much longer than you have. I may have been known to... experiment a bit back in my hayday. That had been a lovely night, stalking those men down the french quarter.” He was wistful in memory. Oh how their blood splattered, so beautifully. Oh, and the screaming, the good old days were fond in his mind . You, however, nearly lost your mind, a guffaw falling from your lips in the most unlady like of fashions.
“No way!” a series of giggles were released, your chest expanding and deflating as you felt tears of pure amusement fall down your face. Your hands were on your knees at that point, the mere thought of him in heels was enough to set you into another fit of laughter. Whether or not it was true or he was just messing with you would be for another day to discover; but you chased the feeling of the joy that lit up your skin and made your lungs burn from the lack of air.
Regaining your composure, your laughter returned to soft giggles before fading out again into a gentle smile. There was pure awe and admiration in your gaze, your heart nearly bursting at the seams by the mere sight of him alone. His hand was still holding yours, before you stood up on your tippy toes and grabbed his collar, attempting to pull him down to your level. Your eyes were lidded, a coy smile on your lips as you ghosted your breath over his. “You’re silly.” And then you let go of him, settling back down onto your subdued height in comparison to his.
He was pleased by your reaction. You were truly a very interesting partner. Your laughter caressed his ears in a lovely song. It was beautiful, if not a bit manic with how you were laughing at him. He adored pleasing you… entertaining you as it were. Though he wasn’t quite sure if you could handle the other tales of his past if you reacted in such a manner. He would save those for another time, perhaps to brighten your day in the future.
“It might have been silly, but it was thrilling ! And I would do it again if I had the chance! Ah yes, there is nothing quite like the look on your prey’s face when they realize that you, in fact, are a man, and are are truly going to die at the hands of a potential cross-dresser. Hilarious, oh the non-existent humanity!” God, he missed the screaming. His eyes fell down to your sweet face. He could tell you were enthralled by his tale of whimsy. He wrapped an errant strand of your hair around his finger, twirling it lazily. Whatever fun he had in his past, paled in comparison to the lovely time he spent with you.
“So, sweet little darling, shall we join the rest of your misfit crew?” He held out his arm, and instinctively you encircled your own in it. It was common knowledge at this point that the Radio Demon had undoubtedly had a smaller, more innocent shadow that trailed behind him in his endeavors; despite him not wanting to appear soft. When he was not there physically, he attached his own shadow to you in a form of protection; not that you needed it. He thought otherwise, now that the rumor was spreading across the land like a wildfire. The damn peasantry loved gossip, and despite how he refused to be intimate with you in public, he very much delivered when you asked behind closed doors. For you and you alone, he would do things that he would have never even considered in the first place.
He would turn Hell into an arctic wasteland should you ask it of him. That would really get these demons into a tizzy. He knew you would never ask such robust things of him though. No, your needs were more physical, more delicate, than grandiose gestures of affection. You wanted tenderness from him. And while at the beginning he was very much confused, though he would never admit to such a feeling, he had learned that he enjoyed being tender with you.
It had taken some convincing, and lots of practice, but he appreciated your touch in any form it came, and it was so easy to tell apart from everyone else. You were now sure in your movements, in your intentions with him. He was so very proud of his little darling. You had grown a bit bolder in your affections with him and it may or may not have delighted him. Escorting was an extremely common occurrence, he insisted on it whenever he was taking you somewhere. At first it had annoyed you, but now it was something that you did as a second nature; growing to accept it as just one of his quirks. You were also entirely certain you wanted to know every little aspect of him; everything he hid beneath his facade.
You had gotten close, but he would never show you the darkest sides of him. It was something he absolutely refused to do. Whether it was because he was afraid of you leaving him over such a concept, or it was something else entirely, you weren’t exactly sure. It didn’t take the two of you too long to reach the staircase that led to the main lobby, but once you did, you unhooked your arm from his, causing him to look down at you with a raised eyebrow. You wrapped your fingers in the spaces between his own, a gentle, encouraging smile as you led him down. It was easier to enter the room when you weren’t the only one they had eyes on.
Music, this time not originated from Alastor’s being, resounded around the room.
Your heart thrummed in your chest with excitement; the sights of individuals you hadn’t seen before flocking around and taking plates to eat while conversing with the normal residents. All of them had drastically different appearances; some with scales, others with multiple eyes, some with fur… it was an endless array of different demons. The tune was something you actually recognized; a voice you had nearly forgotten of. The chairman of the board himself, Frank Sinatra-- you briefly wondered how they managed to get such a track to play to begin with. At least their tastes didn’t differ dramatically in comparison to your past. Alastor didn’t seem to mind or even know what had gotten you so hyped over the silken voice of the singer.
The rabble had arrived it seemed. He never made it a habit to get to know those he considered lesser, so there were no faces he recognized. There was no use in asking for quality control when it came to this absurd hotel anyway. Besides, he had the most charming dame of them all to accompany him. You truly looked leaps and bounds better than anyone else in the room. He would be lying if he said any different. He took hard notice of the other eyes in the room that had drifted to your enticing form. He tapped his thigh, his shadow parting from him to keep a watchful eye on you, a warning to any to know who he was and what he was capable of.
When they noticed he was staring right back at them; a truly terrifying sight indeed, a threat in itself, they whistled and turned back around. When you turned to face him, the possessive behavior would be dismissed and his expression would relax.
You weren’t entirely sure why he insisted on being so protective over you; you could defend yourself just fine, in your humble opinion. You could land a few hard punches if you needed to.
Alastor thought that was laughable. In fact, he thought you were filled with complete absurdity. It was as if you forgot where you both resided in times like these. This was Hell. It was no picnic in the park and if you thought that a few punches were going to fend off demons who wished to harm you, or worse , you were either stupid or just painfully naive. Sometimes he wondered how you managed to fall down here to begin with. You simply did not belong here with how innocent you were, especially with how easily you trusted these riff-raff. Wacky nonsense. You had it in droves. With his left hand in yours, he summoned his microphone in his right, his grin splitting his face despite being softer than it would have normally been without you.
You were his kryptonite; the only thing in this world that could soften him, You were in his veins, the blood inside of him, you were the only thing he could taste, and you did it without even knowing.
Mingling was something of a common occurrence in the Hotel, but generally with the residents that had taken refuge behind the walls. You had befriended the majority of them; Niffty and Charlie were your personal favorites. Niffty was exuberantly enthusiastic, but you couldn’t help but feel exhausted after speaking to her. Charlie was easier to hold an actual conversation with, more intelligent? The thought made you frown. That was mean. You weren’t entirely sure if Niffty was someone that had actually lived before Alastor had summoned her or if she were similar to a programmed machine that was capable of holding conversations, but the only goal in her life was to clean, clean, and clean. While that did come in handy, it didn’t really leave much in terms of sophisticated conversation.
Angel was a bit more complicated. He wasn’t exactly the friendliest of demons, but he certainly wasn’t the worst. Perhaps what you really enjoyed about Nifty and Charlie was that they had manners. Just because you were all in Hell did not mean you had to live like neanderthals. Sometimes you really missed polite society.
The few demons who introduced themselves to you were almost demure in nature. You found it terribly endearing. You briefly wonder whether it was a ploy or not, but these demons had to know what the Hotel’s mission statement was. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t want to. Then again… they might be here for the free food. You felt your smile dampen. They were probably here for the free food. Alastor saw your smile twitch into a tight lipped grimace. Something was displeasing you. He had a sinking suspicion it had to do with the rubbish you were conversing with.
The demon had introduced himself, but you couldn’t remember what his name was… and his fur was covering his name tag. “So then I tell ‘im, if you can’t take the heat, you shouldn’t have been a fuckin’ murderer!” He was howling with laughter at his joke. You giggled politely. You knew it was hard making friends, maybe he was just nervous. He took your giggle as a welcome though. “So toots, ya fancy a dance?” Before you could even utter out an answer your hand was tugged from your side and you were led d̶r̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ to the makeshift dance floor.
Demons were either actually dancing, or they were makeshift dry humping. There was no inbetween. You begged all that was good in this afterlife that he would just dance like a normal fucking person. When you were pulled impossibly tight to this fuzzy stranger you almost swallowed a chunk of fur. This was not your idea of a good time.
Alastor stood near the corner of the room, watching over you carefully. His shadow would allow no harm to come to you, but that did not stop unwelcome advances from horny bystanders. The burly dog demon was chatting you up. His attempts at making you laugh were futile and so poorly constructed. This fool had never told a decent story in his existence. Pathetic. People who lacked finesse were the worst in his not-so-humble opinion. This mutt was hopeless.
Static crackled dangerously around him as he watched your discomfort grow. Jealousy licked at his insides as he watched that filthy mongrel swipe you further onto the dance floor. He didn’t notice the demons around him shift away, clearing the immediate space around him. His eyes were glowing, bright crimson, pupils narrowed at the gumption this garbage creature had. His mircrophone’s eye was trained in your direction as well-- you were blissfully unaware. There was a bounce to the demon’s step, uncaring if he stepped on your own feet as the palm of his paw met your waist, the other with your other hand before spinning you around. The motion only made you nauseous, unlike how Alastor’s movements made you feel warm and fuzzy. This was different, despite being nearly the same slow dance that you both knew and loved.
This was unwelcome, your thoughts had originally tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but once you felt his hand travel down the dip of your back, you decided that you no longer wanted to be in his presence. You didn’t want his paws anywhere near you. But you could not bring yourself to step away, to tell him to stop, because you were too polite. It was blasphemy to even consider pushing him away in that moment-- you didn’t want to embarrass him. You just wanted it to end; and maybe if you gave him what he wanted, he would get off of you sooner. So you didn’t move his hand away.
The moment that mongrel had slipped his filthy claws down your back, he felt his blood sing with rage. Alastor twirled his microphone in his hand as he stepped forward. The demons around him could feel the angry static around him, they could even taste it. The crowd parted for him as he made his way leisurely over to you. He hummed a bit, his eyes murderous and his smile wasn’t as much a smile right now as it was him baring his teeth at this flea bag.
“Well, hello there! I see you’ve met this charming dame, it’s a shame I’ll have to cut in!” He was all smiles but the moment he took your hand, the dog demon felt something strange swallow his feet. As you were pulled fully into Alastor’s embrace he turned you away from the idiot in question; the dog falling into an black abyss as soon as your eyes could not see. Alastor would keep him there until he learned his lesson, perhaps even longer. (He hadn’t had a new soul trapped in his microphone for a decade or two, perhaps now was the perfect opportunity!). No one was ever to touch what was his. Other than that, no one was ever to make you feel uncomfortable. And no one was ever going to make him feel jealous. It was such a petty emotion. He would punish every soul that dared cross your path if he needed to.
Warily, you looked up at him to notice how he was staring directly forward, his smile strained, his ears twitching in annoyance. His grip on your waist was tight as he pulled you through the crowd, and you only wished to hide your face in the strands of your long hair that was now undoubtedly pulled up elegantly still. You struggled to keep up with his pace, him practically dragging you across the floor as he moved stride by stride, twirling you around the surrounding demons: “Alastor, slow down!” You gasped out, clutching his chest, peering up at him as he looked back at you.
“Darling, this is a dance! Don’t you want to dance with your savior ?”
Savior? Like a ton of bricks slamming into you, you looked back over your shoulder despite his iron grip on your waist holding you close to him. You could feel the static in the room intensify-- or perhaps it’s only because you noticed it right then and there. A brief panic flooded you. Did you make him mad? You hadn’t even done anything! Well, not yet at least. The individual who had decided to cozy up to you in the dance was nowhere to be found, a handful of demons rapidly talking in alarm, while the other half just didn’t seem to give a shit. You looked back up to him after a moment, eyes wide with concern. You knew he had been there just a moment ago, what could have happened to him so fast? “Where did he go?”
“To whom are you speaking about, dearest?” He was now happily showing you off about the room, in his arms. That was where you belonged after all, with him.
Your eyes narrowed, mindlessly being forced to dance with him; twirling you and causing your dress to flare out around you like a bell. “ Stop it!” you whispered, in hopes to not draw even more attention to the two of you.
He hummed brightly before you, giving you a friendly squeeze around your waist. “No.” It was clipped and to the point, and you were aghast. Tht fucking laugh track was sounding around you both like a horrible sitcom and you wanted to hurt him. But he was just so charming. The bastard. Your hands found his arms, digging your heels into the ground in an attempt to get him to stop swinging you around like a damn doll. “Where did he go?” you hissed now, your annoyance flaring up simply because his behavior was absolutely uncalled for. You hated being so small in comparison to him, because he could overpower you so easily. You weren’t even given a chance.
“Oh darling! Is someone missing from our foray? Because I see everyone that’s supposed to be here, don’t you?”
“The one that was dancing with me!” the words were quick to leave your mouth, spurred out simply by the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins; you were exasperated.
“Oh, he had an unexpected appointment. So sorry, did you need something from him? Perhaps I could fish him out for you…” His smile was satisfied and dark. You knew he had done something with that damn teasing smile on his stupid perfect lips.
“I’m going to upchuck all over your suit if you don’t slow down,” you gasped out the thinly veiled threat, grabbing at his jacket.
He slowed his movements. Alastor cared about the integrity of his suits. They were tailored after all. He couldn’t have you getting sick all over this suit. It had been imported from the third ring of hell and it was a horrible trouble to get it replaced.
You would have smiled at how the words worked wonders if you were not so frazzled over the situation to begin with. Your mind aimlessly searched for whatever explanation you could come up with, but you came up empty-handed. “You did something to him,” you stated the obvious, eyes glassy because you don’t just swallow people into the deep dark abyss Alastor.
“I didn’t do anything to him. I simply opened up a portal to the dimension in my handy dandy microphone. You know it is like a spa in there. He’s just fine darling, I’m sure he’s enjoying himself much more than we are.” He most definitely was not. It was worse than hell in that little pocket dimension of his. But you didn’t need to know that when… if he let that demon out, he would never be the same.
Your jaw fell slack, immediately looking over to the microphone that was still in his other hand. Before he could even finish what he was saying, you reached over and grabbed at the metal pole, attempting to slip it out of his grip. The microphone itself was nearly the size of you, having actually spoken to you on several occasions-- whether it was just an extension of Alastor and he was just speaking through it to dig out information you hadn’t wanted to explicitly share with him, or if it was its own separate entity, was something that was unknown to you.
“You,” You had to collect yourself for a moment. “You trapped him in your microphone?” This was incredulous. This demon had opened up an interdimensional rift, only to swallow another demon whole… because you were mildly uncomfortable? Were you hearing this right? You reached out further, standing on your tippy toes now to grab at the microphone.
“Trapped is such an ugly word.” He raised his hand slightly, you did not need to toy with things you didn’t understand. He really did not need you to accidentally cause anymore mayhem than you already did. To think of how much of a walking disaster you truly were, was sure to exhaust him should he think on it too long. There were several reasons why he tied his shadow to you.
Your efforts were futile: “Al… why?” your words were strained out of your teeth as you finally looked back up to him, lowering your hand to grab at his lapel.
“You looked so… displeased with his presence. We are here for a festivous gathering, we can’t have Charlie’s efforts be for nought? Can we? That would be so rude! I did it for Charlie, my dear.”
He was such a fucking liar. You couldn’t believe the words you were hearing, balling your fist at the lapel and pulling him down to your level. “No you didn’t,” because you knew he would never dream of doing something for someone other than himself. If he was going to try to embarrass you, then you were sure as hell going to give these demons what they came here for. To see if the rumors were true. Your nose dipped next to his, brushing against his monocle as your lips ghosted over his, refusing to touch him or give him the satisfaction of it. “Why are you lying to me?” your voice was a mere whisper then, the softest of frowns forming on the indentations of your lips.
“If you have to know, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.” His smile, ever-present, was almost nervous.
Your hold on his collar eased up gently, but you still remained on your tippy-toes. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“No one, in this teeming cesspool, is going to be allowed to displease you, darling. I just cannot handle seeing you so… undressed.”
Your voice got stuck in your throat, your heart jumping hoops, your stomach dropping further into your belly as you felt your face begin to burn. This man was going to kill you, you were sure of it. “You can’t keep him in there,” your eyes were soft now, your hand running along his jaw. “What if he didn’t know?” You were giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Your touch was feather light on his face. His eyes softened around the edges as he looked at you. You really didn’t belong down here. “He shall be different upon his return. It truly is a fabulous spa .” His humor was cryptic, but you couldn’t help but give him a small smile. Your eyes softened with sheer intensity then, something clicking in your mind that wasn’t there before. Your smile only grew, your thumb moving to trace his bottom lip.
“Are you jealous?”
His entire being stopped for the most fleeting of moments. Your average demon would not have even noticed, but you were not an average demon. He knew you noticed the crack in his mask.
“Jealous? Why would I ever be jealous of a filthy street mutt, darling you are oh, too funny!”
“Because it’s not you touching me like that,” You said before he could finish.
He did not want to respond to that. So he didn’t; which honestly probably was a lot more telling than if he would have said something. At his silence, your eyes widened, your own smile faltering at the seams at the realization that yes, he was absolutely fucking jealous. A small ‘oh’ escaped you, falling back down to the flats of your feet. An impish little smile, befitting an individual such as you; you were more surprised that he didn’t insist on having the last word. “Well, maybe a few days at the spa wouldn’t hurt him,” you offered gently, peeking up at him through your lashes in appeasement. Your movements were now in sync with his; the lighting in the room dimming as a slow song came on. Immediately, you shot to attention, flickering your gaze over to the mixer, only to find that Charlie was giving you a thumbs up.
Your lips curled into a genuine grin, a laugh shaking your shoulders at her utter silliness; but it wasn’t long before your attention was pulled back to your partner in crime; his eyes solely trained on your own, not even giving Charlie the time of day-- further causing you to believe that your suspicions were indeed correct.
You felt his hand against the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him. Glancing up at him for the briefest of moments before sighing lightly and laying your head against his sternum and closing your eyes. Of course, you didn’t forgive him for ruining the existence of that one individual; truly, you felt some guilt over it; because you’d shown your discomfort, he had wiped him out of your existence. It was all because of you. He took your left hand, curling his sharp fingers into your knuckles, leading you deeper and deeper into the drowning depths of his minute affections.
Your blush was adorable. His close lipped smile was aimed at your shy face. There was no need for you to act in such a demure way. He was proud to have you on his arm. Why, in all his years he could not recall a single soul that made him beam, genuinely, at least. You filled him with a sense of belonging. That was strange enough in and of itself due to his natural inclinations for bloodlust and domination. But he knew, deep in his gut, that he would never be able to bring himself to harm you. Unless, of course, you were asking for it in a more lewd sense. Then of course he would be happy to litter bruises and bloody bites all over your precious body.
With all of the twirling you both were doing, sweeping in between innocuous couples, you both had gotten impossibly close. You pressed so sweetly to his front, and you could feel his hand pulling you up just slightly, almost like he was trying to sweep you off your feet. The gentle pressure had heat buzzing across your skin. You felt your fingers twitch against his chest subconsciously, glancing up to his, almost , serene smile. Your forehead found his chest, breathing in his scent of something your couldn’t quite place; either that, or you couldn’t bring yourself to narrow it down to an exact scent. It was him, and that’s all that mattered. There was a tightness in your chest, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you as you pressed your cheek against his suit, glancing up to him. “You smell good, ” the music filled the gap of what would have been silence in any other sort of situation.
“Oh, how kind of you to say! It’s quite a funny story really!” He took a breath, and there was an inner monologue of a groan because you really shouldn’t have said anything. But instead of complaining, you nuzzled your head against his chest, closing your eyes as he explained himself, on and on. “It was an incredible evening! Baton Rouge was really keen in those days, you know! Jazz on every corner! It was so lively, darling, you would have loved it! I had just turned down a corner, because one never truly knows what kind of hidden gems could be lurking in alleyways, and there I saw them! A disgusting pervert cornering some newsie. Oh, it had my blood boiling, so of course I just had to step in. That was a special one indeed because while I was busy rooting through that fools intestines, I saw a beautiful French boutique! They were closed of course, but that was always for the commoners. I nicked a delightful cologne from there. It’s been my favorite ever since.” He took a large breath, shaking his head as if he were in a daze. His grin had spread across his face in genuine expression of pure and utter joy from reliving the memory.
His seemingly endless slur of words made little sense to you from the slang he still insisted on using, even decades after his untimely misfortune. But it was one of his many quirks that you simply adored, a small hum buzzing your lips as you teased his suit jacket, curling the fabric in your fingers gingerly. His stories never failed to capture your attention; despite them being dastardly in their descriptions and often of the evils he had committed in his life that had landed him in this hellhole.
You loved him.
The thought made you pause in your movements, stiffening slightly as your stomach erupted in butterflies. It felt as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders, only for a mountain to bear down upon it. Love. Not just a blatant attraction, but true, unadulterated, complete and absolute love. The word made your heart pound against your ribcage, bruising the insides of your body with sheer and utter adoration. It was wrong, but oh, so right. You wanted to melt into him, be one with him in all ways plus one. Your voice was stuck in the depths of your throat as your hips swayed in tune with his; your hand trailing up his abdomen, being rid of your clutch on the expensive fabric.
You just wanted him to yourself.
He watched your gentle ministrations to his body, a silence belaying the two of you comfortably. Your cheek was resting gently against the top of his abdomen; letting yourself drown in the moment and the feeling of sinking deeper and deeper still. The radio static he carried with him eternally had gone to such a low frequency that you could barely hear it; easily tuning it out and just enjoying the moment. Your fingers trailed lower, dipping into the confines of his waist before pulling up the vest beneath his suit jacket. Under that, a high-buttoned dress shirt.
“It seems you are deep in contemplation, darling, I’d say I’d give you a penny for your thoughts, but I don’t have any change on me, the jingle is so obnoxious.” A laugh track played around you, lower in volume so only the two of you could hear it in his mindless teasing.
“The only thought in my mind is that you wear too much,” your words were soft, just loud enough for him to hear over the music, but quiet enough for eavesdroppers to not be able to pick up on. Gingerly, you balled the dress shirt in your fist and pulled it up just enough for your hand to slip under and feel his skin. There. You felt him stiffen slightly before relaxing into your butterfly light touches, trailing over his stomach.
“Not all of us have to live like heathens.” There it was; you were betting on him to have the last word. Knowingly, you smiled, opening your eyes for the first time in a while, eyes adjusting to the sudden lighting change from the vacant dark abyss that had been behind your eyelids. The feeling of his smooth skin lit your own up, his hand dismissing his microphone and placing the second hand on your waist; pulling you closer as if to hide from prying eyes the intimate touches you were giving him. Intimate, in the sense that it was something he wouldn’t normally allow in such a public setting.
Your hand trailed across his ribs, dipping into the crevices between them with gentle motions. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent as you looked up him from your positioning. His grin had relaxed into a simple smile; still adamant on holding onto what he could of his persona while quite literally breaking over you. He was breathing underwater, so utterly swept up in your presence that he found himself ignoring the eyes that were on the eyes that were on the two of you.
Alastor was not one to ignore the promise of publicity and popularity.
You slid your hand from underneath his garments, moving to reach up to his face— you had to stand on your tippy-toes to just do so. “All you have to do is ask me, and I will do it for you, darling.” His voice was lowered, dropping the act of holding onto whatever entertainment he could milk out of the situation; a secret passed that was yours to keep; your heart doing literal somersaults in your chest that you nearly thought you were going to have an aortic aneurysm.
Your voice found the strength to utter one word that set the next events in motion, face burning. His grip on you tightened as you essentially broke the fragment of reality as he teleported the two of you into a familiar environment: his room. For a moment, you clung to his body as if he were your life jacket, your lone lighthouse in a murky sea.
You would never get used to it.
By the time you felt you were stable enough to get off of him, you stumbled off with a giggle, feeling drunk as your mind caught up with your new reality. For a long moment, he kept a firm but gentle grasp on your arm to keep you in place so you didn’t fall. The moment you had stability, you ultimately kicked off the heels without grace. “I hate those,” you pointed to the fanciful shoes, only to feel yourself being lifted with a gasp, effortlessly, you found yourself in his clutch, holding you bridal style.
“I know,” he mused in the softest voice you had ever heard him offer you, bringing his face close to yours and resting his forehead on yours. He was an asshole, but a cute one. His monocle gleamed in low light of the evening, causing your attention to flicker over to it.
“What’s this for?” your eyes flickering to his, the ends of his own crinkling with amusement. Only you would ask such questions.
“The better to see you with, my dear. ” His grin widened into a toothy, dangerous smile once you realized just exactly why that sounded familiar, a laugh track playing. God, you hated that track; he played it just to spite you, knowing just how to push your buttons in all the right places. You dramatically stretched out, letting your head go slack against his arm, staring at the room upside down.
“I didn’t take you for the Wolf.” You hummed, looking back up at him coyly. He breathed out an amused sigh, moving over to the bed in three long strides and quite literally throwing you onto it. The soft cushioning made you bounce a couple of times, your eyes wide as he easily crawled on top of you, straddling your waist and taking your hands in his, curling in the spaces between yours so perfectly. He leaned down, your head against one of his extravagant pillows, the ghost of his lips brushing yours just barely.
“My silly, silly girl,” he began, lowering his gaze to your luscious lips that always seemed to mold so perfectly with his own, “I’m much worse.” His warm breath tickled your face, teasing you by being so close but so far away. His hands were entwined with your own, forcing them to remain without mobility, most likely because he got off on your frustrations, the sick bastard.
“No you’re not,” adamant on not allowing him the satisfaction of having the last laugh; your eyes mere slits to match his own; they flickered up to your face at your words. “Because the Wolf was only after his next meal, the Wolf doesn’t have feelings.” His fingers flexed between your own, his claws daring you to continue. You dared, feeling particularly mischievous.
“But you do.”
There was something that snapped in him; and you watched naively as his lip twitched. When he didn’t respond, you grew more hesitant, wondering if you actually went too far to think of such a silly thing. Him? Feelings? Pah! “Al-” about to apologize, you were silenced by a harsh pressure on your lips, nearly breaking your teeth from how strong the sudden force was, your eyes wide with surprise to see his own closed.
And then you realized just what exactly was happening; and you melted into his feverish kisses, no matter the force that drove you further into the pillows. It took him a moment to ease out of the harshness, mostly brought on by his anger from the situation from earlier. At least, that’s the only reason you could think of for his roughness. His kisses finally roamed down your from your lips, nearly having them bruised and raw from how he had sucked and bit your lips; just deep enough for a warning, but not enough for rivulets of blood to pour out of your mouth.
What a beautiful sight that would have been.
His lips fell to the side of your own, moving to your jaw where they caressed the flesh, your head moving instinctively to reveal your beautiful neck in which he could litter bruises on and abuse to his liking; your stomach jumping hurdles, exploding in a flurry of butterflies. You offered him your vulnerability like a gift wrapped present in itself, knowing how easily he could rip out your jugular if he so wished. You trusted him, stupidly, naively, receptive to his touches. “Al,” you softly sighed his name, feeling his lips caress your sensitive neck in all the right ways and places, sucking and grazing his sharp teeth to ensure his possession of you.
He was going to shred your damn dress apart if you continued moaning his name like that.
You felt a singular hand release your own, traveling down your side in a teasing manner, his claws catching the indentations of the fabric of the dress, sometimes uncaringly tearing holes into it as he dipped his hand underneath, trailing up your legs, thighs, and finally just above the heat of your sex. And then you had an idea you weren’t entirely sure he would be willing to do from the neediness he was exhibiting with his touches alone.
“Baby…” you leaned your head back in an attempt to cover your neck, whispering in his ear with a gentleness to pull him out of whatever daze he was in. He finally let up his abuse to your neck, staring down at his masterpiece with satisfaction; you were thankful— it had become raw, painful. It would surely leave a massive bruise in the morning; not that you cared much. If anything, it made your stomach clench with an insistent desire that burned in your bones, setting you aflame.
Strings of saliva connected his lips to your neck still, even as he pulled away to look down at you. His hair had become tousled, causing your eyes to soften and reach up to brush through his luscious locks. “Let me have my way this time, please…” you whispered as if the thing you had just said was a vulgar secret shared between the two of you. It was. He was having to exercise his patience with your innocent behavior, despite what your words had betrayed of your inner thoughts.
You hand trailed down the side of his face, brushing over his lips sweetly. He, however, was never truly easy to convince to give up his domination; you had actually never succeeded in doing so.
His eyes, ever so red, highlighted your supple features in a delicious way. Your chest grew heavy, the words getting lost in your mouth despite you desperately wanting to say it. He leaned down again, hovering his lips over yours before moving up to kiss your button nose, trailing towards your forehead in a tender manner as if he were seriously considering the request.
“Only if you beg me.”
The lewd words made you believe that your heart and stomach had swapped places, blood suddenly rushing to your face; shrouded from the dim lighting in the room. “ Please,” his lips trailed down the side of your face, humming softly, a soft moan of his name to add to the appeasement part of what he had demanded you to do. His breath fanned over your face, your chest tight with emotion and desire , burning your vision with such an intense need of giving him your pure, uncut, love.
But he wanted to teach you to be bold with what you wanted; “if you don’t tell me what you want,” he grabbed your chin roughly then, his claws indenting into your cheeks almost painfully, “then I can’t help you, my sweet, naive girl.” If he needed to get rough with you for you to finally cave in and tell him all your obscene, filthy desires you wanted to do with him, and him alone, then he would. “I-“ with a roll of his eyes, you felt yourself being lifted up, spun around, and being placed on his abdomen as he switched positions with you.
You were much smaller and lighter than he was, the sudden weight off your hips was welcome in every sense.
Somehow, with the flip in position, the bubbling feeling of being in control made your confidence skyrocket gradually. This time, you were the one to crawl forward; his eyes narrowing on your lips as they brushed delicately across his own. “I want to make you feel good,” you began, soft caresses of your lips as his hands steadied you against his abdomen, sinking into your waist almost threateningly. You continued on, trailing your lips down his chin; only to find clothing.
“Well, I’m waiting?”
Oh, he was a bastard. You frowned, looking back down to him; his shit-eating grin adorning his face. His eyes were crinkled with sheer amusement, before with a wave of his hand, without you even getting off of him, each garment of clothing spontaneously disappeared, one by one. But you, you were in your dress still; your hands trailing to the back of your neck to untie the ribbon that held it in its place. He watched you with a predatory gaze.
It didn’t take you an obscene amount of time to untangle the bow from itself, letting the lace dress go slack against your body, ultimately sliding it off of you with a flexibility you never fully mastered. His hand trailed up your leg, before a singular digit hooked beneath the band of the lace undergarments you had been adorning. For a moment, you watched him press into the fabric, before the claw pierced through the thin lining of it.
“You gonna-” with one fellow swoop, he had nearly read your mind as the hand tore the fabric in two, sliding it off of you and throwing it somewhere across the room to be forgotten. For a moment you stared to the shadows where he had cast it— before ultimately forgetting about it, turning your attention to cast onto his features.
Your hands trailed up his chest, your sex, drenched with desire, pooling against his grey flesh as you moved your hips in such a way that you practically began sliding against him. With a gentle sigh, you leaned up to slide your head into the crook of his neck—truly, your favorite place, laying kisses of a gentle nature and an innocence in comparison to your now bruising neck. His hands ran up your legs, your hips, the curves of your body with an equal softness; his previous aggressiveness long since forgotten to the feather light touches you peppered him with. “I wanna make love to you.”
Your words whispered against his skin, your eyes closing as your rocked your hips against his abdomen alone; the feeling of him just pressing against you was enough for your to release a shuddering moan, placing your hands against his shoulders despite his steadying grip against your hips to keep you grounded.
Having you on top of him was enticing, riveting to a point, a sense of pride engulfing his entire mind at your unyielding desire to try your hand at the ropes; to ensure his pleasure was satisfied, to ensure that he knew that you belonged to him.
He took this as practice to bigger and better things like becoming the Ruler of Hell down the line, but that much could wait. For now he would let you tease him, watch as you sullied yourself a top him for pleasure. And he was pleased by it. How could he not be pleased by such a vivacious young woman, who was foolish enough to give herself over so freely with so little in return? You knew nothing of how demon deals truly worked. He made a mental note to himself to never let you make a deal with anyone, ever.
That would never turn out well, especially with how easily you trusted.
You busied yourself a top him, exploring your land freely. Your teasing touches were expertly soft, and gave way to how sweet you actually were. It was delicious watching you defile yourself with his body. for he loved getting off on seeing how far you would go, how unclean you would become in the process. He loved tarnishing your innocence. It almost made him feel guilty, but it seemed you were only willing to, shall we say, smart up in the bedroom, in other matters where you remained wholly naive.
He especially adored how your mouth would gently fall down his torso, skimming over so carefully, butterfly kisses trailing down his lean, but powerful, body. Seeing how your lips would twitch over his cock; truly sinful. It was truly so wonderful to witness. Hailey’s comet could definitely contend with your mouth.
The feeling of your lips stretching over him, of you gagging, trying to swallow him. His body subtly trembled as your saliva dripped down onto his skin in a chilled pile of arousal. The way your throat would have to expand in order to accommodate his girth. Absolutely filthy. He lived for these moments, because while at first glance to him, these actions of yours were so depraved and so utterly lewd… You did it all just to please him.
That sent his mind, body, and the parts of his soul he had left into Valhalla. This innocent creature loved defiling herself just to please him. He supposed it was a small price to pay for all the amusement you gave him just by being in his life, just by being his.
That and it was all rather enjoyable, if not messy. Perhaps that's what these moments had in common with the other successes in his life. He loved the mess, only rather than being coated by blood and other rank bits and pieces, he was only covered by your, dare he say it, almost angelic being. Possibly, that was the true fascination he held with you: you were like an angel. And yet here you were, tongue swirling around him like you were starving, and he the only piece of meat you had come across in ages.
His hand found your hair, which had previously been let down when you had undressed yourself. The other gripping the bed sheets for a mere moment before you brought your hand to enclose between the spaces of his own fingers. You hummed against his girth, gentle vibrations sending volts of electricity up his body and into his mind. You peeked up from your attentions to his cock, a small smile attempting to curl into your lips at the sight of his head harshly pushed into the pillows, his Adam’s Apple visible, his smile— gone, instead turned into a grit of his teeth, rivulets of drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and spilling onto the bed.
That was when you heard to most gorgeous of sounds escape his lips; fluttering around you and making your stomach flip flop all over the place. Your name was like ambrosia, music to your ears as he gasped out a moan, his hips instinctively bucking into your mouth as he sought after the release that was causing his mind to break into more of a primal nature. His whispered your sweet name over and over again like a broken record, praying to you, begging you, it was sweeter than when he finally released himself into your mouth, his cock twitching and his body was flooded with the most extremes of pleasure.
His ejaculation was sweet on the tongue, tasting like him; and you lapped up each and every drop, twirling your tongue around his now sensitive tip to ensure you would not miss a singular bead. The room was filled with audible panting, and slowly you removed the warmth of your mouth from his cock, your hand still holding his as you moved back up to sit on his chest. You rutted against him, defiling your body even more than before and you leaned down to meet his lips, letting your tongue run across his in a dance of its own. You pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
Your hand trailed down his body again, gently taking hold of his still-engorged cock and teasing it at your entrance, letting him feel the sheer slickness of your arousal. He sat up then, hair tousled, monocle missing, and grabbed your waist, pulling you directly up to his chest and he repositioned himself so you were now able to straddle him completely. Your arms fell around his neck, one hand twirling around the strands of his hair and holding his head close to yours, while the other simply rubbed circles between his shoulder blades.
You closed your eyes when you began to feel him enter you; his size still not something you were used to, and in this position, you felt like you could feel every indentation of him. A small whine fell from your lips, his one hand laying flat against the small of your back, while the other began to travel to your sex. He learned fast. “Alastor,” you breathed, your head against his shoulder, face burning as he continued to spread you open, his thumb rubbing small circles around you small bundle of nerves in just the right manner.
You gasped his name again, the sparks of pleasure from him rubbing you nearly drowning out the sheer pain of him stretching you to your limits. Your one hand knitted in his hair now, the other simply dangling down his back as you drooled down it. He hummed softly, incredibly patient and almost tired sounding, inquisitive. His movements were slow as he continued to enter you. He was entirely attentive as to not rip you apart, exercising his patience to its limits.
You breathed against his neck, face flushed as he hilted himself fully. He never stopped rubbing your back, even as he leaned his head into the crook of your own neck, placing tender kisses along the outline.
He murmured your name, his voice vibrating against your skin and causing it to light aflame. He started shallowly thrusting into you, not pulling out, but moving his hips so you both could get used to the movement. Your heart soared, head going slack, rivulets of drool spilling down his back and drenching his pillow as his thumb swept back and forth, up and down, in tantalizingly slow circles, with just enough pressure. Just how you liked it.
His shallow movements began to fade into gentle thrusts then, the feeling of being utterly filled drowning your fine motor skills; closing your eyes as you focused on the absolute lewd sounds of him sliding in and out of your incredibly drenched sex. His name rolled off your tongue, chanting, praying, in a similar fashion as he did for you. He planted kisses against your face, moving your hair tenderly to the side, exposing the bruises that he had littered there.
There was a possessive rumble that was emitted from his throat then. He did that to you. You were his. “‘M yours,” your drunkenly agreed, your breath shallow as his thrusts grew in intensity. Skin to skin, each thrust growing stronger than the next, you felt his teeth graze your shoulder before he clamped down. He was biting you, but the pleasure that was pooling in your body, the sounds that filled the room, his heavy breaths in your ear, you couldn’t bring yourself to cry out in pain. It was a marking, a primal claim, ancient even before his time.
You were his and he was yours.
Your hips moved on their own accord, the atmosphere of the room growing hotter and he sped up his movements, your hands now gripping his back and head as you chased what you were looking for. What you needed . “Cum,” his words made something inside of you snap, everything you held back on suddenly rushing forward in a dizzying, beautiful, drunken wonderlust. The heat made your toes curl, racing up your ankles, your knees, your legs, your thighs, and sparking each nerve in your body as you clenched around him in the most delicious of ways.
It only spurred on his own release.
You panted, feeling his own burning warmth fill you to the brim, weeping out of your own folds as your release mixed with his. “Alastor?” Your voice was a gentle lilt, reality rushing back at you as you moved so, while he was still inside of you, you could see his flushed, beautiful face. Your lips brushed against his own. It was now or never.
“I love you,”
He paused, searching your eyes for something; truth, maybe. “I know that, you silly girl,” he murmured back, his voice vibrating against your lips and causing it to light aflame. “I’ve been stuck on you for some time.”
It was all you ever truly wanted to hear.
His face was flushed out, his girth still buried deep within you so much so that you wondered when he would pull out. There was a long moment of silence, your body moving to lay plush against his own torso, your hands knotting in his hair further with gentle touches. He watched your face with a tired gaze, most likely worn from the sheer amounts of pleasure his body had suddenly been forced to grow accustom to. There was a curiosity in your movements, not set on making him feel anything in particular, but to just further touch him. You were in a cuddly mood, endorphins plaguing your mind and making you feel as if you were floating on cloud nine.
Your fingers trailed up to the base of his ears, watching as they twitched with uncertainty as his head ducked between your neck, a soft shuddering breath against your flesh. You paused for a mere moment, being pulled tightly against his torso, as he leaned into your gentle touches. The roughness had long been dismissed, your mind now set on just making him feel the way you felt. You wanted more of him, to feel him further stretch your insides with his love; you truly never wanted it to end.
Your fingers traced the cartilage of his sensitive ears, your hips now moving against their own accord, despite how each nerve was absolutely and thoroughly spent. It was uncomfortable to continue the act, but you did it for him. “I’m yours,” you murmured against the dip between his neck and shoulder, placing gentle kisses against them, trailing further and further up his neck, moving his hair out of the way so you could pepper them further against his skin.
”You don’t need to be jealous,” it was a sensitive word now, something you knew affected him by how his claws dug into your skin. Despite him remaining still, his panting in your ear from the sheer overload of nervous system sparks her was getting from the overstimulation, was enough to spur you on. You moved your hand from his ear, letting it trail down his face.
This time, despite the sticky mess that adorned the sheets of the bed, your thighs, his torso, you allowed yourself to move your hips into shallow movements, just enough to ease him into a state of feverish kisses against your skin. The movement never increased in intensity, never picked up in pace; it was simply a constant. His cock twitched inside of you, a small hum against your lips, against his neck, as you gently led him over to his breaking point once again. And again.
Chapter 3: Not A Peep
Chapter by NotBrooke
A request with the prompt: “Try to stay quiet, understand?” Hope you enjoy!
This one is short but (not so) sweet, as will most of requests.
Alastor had always been one for entertainment.
The demon rarely did things that pertained to anything else; in fact, you were entirely certain that his one goal in his eternal damnation was to entertain. His amusement was often laced together cryptically, forged together by the downfall of those who dared to stand in his way, of those who attempted to be better, only to meet their untimely demise as they fell further into the fiery pits of failure. You, however, were nothing short from pure; your intentions a chastillice of everything that was right in the world. You simply didn’t belong down here; forced to the furthest pits of Hell simply for making a few weak-ended choices in your life. You had been taken advantage of, thrown to the hounds before you were even given a chance.
Of course, when he had first met you, his immediate reaction was to try to dirty your pristine mind.
You were far from perfect; someone who was innocent in terms of the standards of the other fools of Hell, but you were pitifully naive, too. Nevertheless, you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, even if you didn’t exactly realize it. Commitment was something that was a foreign thought, and while you hadn’t been ‘courted’ by him for too long , as Alastor would say time and time again, absolutely refusing to say the term ‘dating’ in your presence or in public, heaven forbid; you entirely and utterly had him swept up in your presence. Of course, you didn’t really care about how much of an advantage that was on the battlefield.
Good thing you never participated in turf wars.
No, you had more of an interest in expressing yourself in similar ways that Charlie did. Through song. Just to ease his mind because you would absolutely get yourself hurt if you didn’t watch out, he often kept his microphone or attached his shadow to you. This time, you were sitting in his room, entirely pleased in annoying the absolute hell out of his microphone as you sang your heart out. When left with his microphone, it wasn’t for too long. Only for short trips or mindless things he had to attend that didn’t have drastic importance to him but would impact the future; he never wanted to leave you too long in the presence of it simply because you shouldn’t get your hands on things you didn’t understand.
Generally, the microphone was fond of you, listening to you and enjoying your mindless rambles about its master, even when brought on by frustration alone. But of course, it could also be moody at times.
You yourself weren’t entirely sure if it was an extension of himself or an entirely different entity, but it did manage to fascinate you endlessly. It rolled it’s eye at your antics, earning a tap right next to its eye to chastise it for its behavior. It was silent through the entire endeavor but never having its eye disappear from view as if it had been commanded to keep an eye on you. In a span of merely a few seconds, your little fiasco had ended as the door flew open, your hand still in the air as you were reaching the last note. Immediately, the microphone released a sound that was akin to a sigh of relief, a flurry of static at the sight of the owner of the stand itself.
“Hey! I’m not that bad!” you huffed, the microphone being pulled from your grip.
It was then that you noticed how his grin was strained.
Your playfulness immediately disappeared, still remaining on the side of the bed as it gave you more height over how tall you normally were. Your eyes were wide, brows furrowed in concern, but before you could say a sound , you felt his hands find beneath your arms and lift you up as if you didn’t weigh a thing. Immediately, your legs instinctively circled around his waist, his hands on your thighs to support you, your hands on his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” A whisper, hesitant. Had you done something wrong?
Your thoughts raced to the microphone— had you gone too far with your silliness? Alastor didn’t get mad over things like that, you knew; in fact, he found it endearing, but you knew something was wrong just by how insistently he was holding you. How his claws were digging into your skin through the fabric of your sweatpants, a soft wince at how sharp they were. You sometimes wondered if he forgot his own strength in comparison to you. Alastor also wasn’t one to initiate closeness like this on a normal basis, so the fact that he was doing it now ensured the fact that something was up.
He didn’t respond verbally, his breath audible as you suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to do. Your eyes searched his own, trying to find something that would betray his thoughts. At the very least, your delicate motions found its way so you wrapped your arms around his neck, chest pressing against his own in a hug. Whatever it was that had made him storm in here as if he were ready to kill someone, had apparently made him receptive to your gentle touches as well.
For a moment he remained still, before you felt his hair tickle your cheek, the ghost of his breath between your shoulder and neck before a ginger kiss was placed on it. Tenderness was also a rarity, for you found out quite easily that it was hard for him to exercise that particular sort of patience with you. But he was learning, and that was enough for you. “Did I do something wrong?” your cheek was resting against his shoulder, your words whispering against the fabric of his suit. There was a breath of what you supposed was amusement that ghosted over the flesh of your neck.
“No.” the words were quipped, short. You felt yourself moving then, despite his grip on you easing up just slightly. Untangling your limbs from him, he set you on the edge of the bed, leaning over you and moving his finger to your chin, forcing you to look at him. “The microphone let out a distress signal, darling.” Your mouth formed a thin line then.
“It didn’t.” You gasped out, exasperated. The damn stand was like a child, calling for its parent to pick it up. When you saw his expression hadn’t changed from its continued strained smile, you let your hand run through your hair, falling against the bed, bouncing against it. His eyebrow was raised now, watching you with what looked like mirthfulness, his smile relaxing as he finally came to the understanding that you were okay. Your hands were running down your face in anguish, a groan escaping your lips.
“Al, I was singing.” A giggle of disbelief at the sheer fact that the microphone would do something so… so… You felt the bed dip with sudden weight, creaking out in displeasure. A breath fanned against your face as you finally removed your hands, staring up into the deep red coloration of his own. At the awareness of the fact that he had actually been worried about your safety, your heart skipped a beat, your stomach erupting in a tsunami of butterflies. “It’s okay,” you offered in appeasement, attempting to ease the worries that stressed his mind.
His hand was brought down to your face, brushing over your lips with a singular digit claw. He looked tired. He looked as if he had been stressing over the worry for some time, plaguing his mind with feverish thoughts and while that had initially been worrisome to you, you found it endearing how he showed the display of affection of dropping everything he had been doing just for you. Your eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the small grazes against your lip as he found himself in deep contemplation. By the time you gazed back up, you were met with an impish expression. That was never good.
He brought his face down to yours, removing his claw from your bottom lip and replacing it with his own lips, his smile fading in the act. You learned early on to just go with it. His hands, instead of leaving you completely, trailed down your jaw, your neck, your sternum, dragging it further before stopping just at your abdomen. His lips released yours, soft panting filling the room before his lips found the trail his claw had made. You weren’t entirely sure what his plans were, in what state of mind he actually was in, and whether or not it was safe to even attempt to stop him— not that you wanted him to.
His actions never failed to ease you into such a private and intimate emotion and perspective. When his lips were stopped at your t-shirt, he didn’t even hesitate to bring up his hands and pull it apart, the fabric ripping at the seams. You didn’t say anything, simply watching with confusion and awe because no, it wasn’t safe to stop him. When he did rid you of your upper attire, he leaned back up to you, his lips falling just next to your ear, his breath tickling your now exposed skin.
“Let’s play a game,” his tongue rolled against each word, feeling him start all over again with his kisses, now not being stopped by silly fabric. You, however, were astounded because you actually liked that shirt. Each kiss led further and further down your body, your mind beginning to fade out the thoughts that didn’t need to be there; your face heating up the lower he went. Your stomach was especially sensitive, the muscles tensing as he peppered kisses around the flesh, milking the reaction out of you either out of amusement or because he wanted to make you squirm.
Eventually he got to a point where he had to actually kneel down to position himself between your legs. His hands pulled down the hem of your sweatpants, with or without your help. There was a heat settled low in your stomach, watching him remove your undergarments from the prize they were shielding from him. He watched with raised brows at the string of arousal that had attached to the panties when he pulled them away. Your face was burning. He wasn’t undressed— what did he think he was doing?
Tossing the undergarments to somewhere forgotten, he spread your thighs forcefully, claws digging into your tender flesh as he let his warm breath fan over your sex. Oh. He looked up at you in that exact moment, and despite the shit-eating grin that would have adorned his lips in any other situation, he allowed you a show of a more genuine one.
“Try to stay quiet, understand?”
You weren’t able to reply, and if you could have— would you? There was a wetness that wasn’t your own against your folds, pushing deep and sliding up to that precious bundle of nerves. You wanted to gasp, to release a small moan at the sudden foreign but familiar movements his tongue made, circling over and over the bud. Grabbing your legs, he yanked you down further to him, spreading your thighs as far as they could go without hurting you, just to gain more access to your sweet nectar. He was hooked the moment he tasted you.
There was a certain roughness to his movements that made you see stars, keeping himself just out of range of your hand no matter how much you wanted to knot your fingers into his hair.
You bit your lip— hard— enough to taste the metallic as it stained your tongue.
Because you were forcing yourself, albeit barely , to stay silent, you could hear the lewd noises gathering in the immediate area. It made you feel hotter. You skin was absolutely burning, his tongue working wonders against you in ways you didn’t know he could. Maybe it was just because it was him that it felt so good , for you were entirely certain he was inexperienced in this field of your intimate relations.
You supposed it was because of your sheer involvement with him that made the smallest of moans betray the exact thing you were trying not to do. You felt his face stretch against you, and you immediately knew you had lost the game. He had been waiting for you to make just a singular peep, something that would make him bend over backwards just to appease you in any other situation. But he didn’t stop, instead watching your face shroud itself with a deep maroon blush, your hips lifting off the bed in such a delicious way.
You felt something touch your hand, some sort of instinct for you to grasp it immediately, only to find that it was his hand. He brought you closer and closer to your edge, leading you further into a pure sense of false security, but just when he could see you about to break-
You released a loud gasp, feeling absolutely and utterly unsatisfied and empty. He thrived off the look in your face as you realized you wouldn’t get your rocks off; truly, didn’t you know how games worked? His grin was back, bigger and meaner than ever.
Your hands gripped the sheets now in frustration, glaring down at him and only following with your eyes as he came to pin you into the bed, his breath fanning across your lips as he leaned down to just ghost them over yours.
“I told you not to make a sound, darling.”
Chapter 4: Slaughter Season, alternatively, Demons to the Slaughter
How does one cure seasonal depression in Hell? Alastor has a special remedy for your situation!
Warnings: Gore, blood, bloodily, violence, rough sex, stabbing, claws,
Y'all Brooke loves her innocent reader, but I took the reins for the majority of this one. She was kind enough to help me with some of the wording and whatnot, but anyway, Enjoy and be warned, y'all are in some real Hellish fun!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Seasons in hell didn’t really exist, though, perhaps that bit was unsurprising. What was infinitely fascinating though was how Hell’s occupants still celebrated certain passages of time. Completely foolish, but still fun to watch from a distance. Older demons, of course, held their pagan rituals, some Christians held their Christmas of some sort, considering how they didn’t worship Christ himself. It was forbidden down here. It was such a cheap knock off of the original of course, but still. There was a certain appeal, you supposed.
Groups of demons would sometimes gather and praise their new gods as well, made up in cults and the such. Lucifer was sometimes hailed as a God down here, which was laughable considering the fallen angel’s history.
The most interesting development had come within the past century.
Alastor was not shocked often, perhaps mildly put off guard on occasion, but never shocked . When he awoke in Hell after his untimely demise, he, however, was not surprised. Hell was a sort of heaven for him. Oh, to be able to fully exercise his darkest desires of bloodshed and domination! Hell was a wonderful place! It was so exciting to be able to wield such power in such a powerful body. While he could indeed recall how his human body had been above average strength, he was able to do what he needed to fulfill his fancies, his demon body was exquisite .
He towered over other demons easily, with his new ears he heard different frequencies and at such an impressive range! He was thinly muscled and so very toned and lithe. He definitely appreciated his current body. It suited him much more than that frail meatsuit he used to sport.
Now he could do whatever he wished, freely as well as with ease. Those first initial weeks when he had merely been testing his new abilities had been such fun. Those older demons had never stood a chance, of course, but to find that he could also broadcast his carnage, oh it tickled him pink ! All through the nine circles they heard his power, his bloodlust, his stand-up routine! They had been so lucky he had worked the kinks out on a living audience.
He remembered fondly how he had first met you in those times.
You were an older demon, ancient really. Your time alive had been spent as high priestess in an empire that had not existed in a long time. When you found yourself in the afterlife, you knew whatever God there was, was a jealous God. A shame really, there were so many demons here that had glorious potential, surely destined to be good and all of that nonsense. They were so easy to manipulate as well. Staking a claim on a patch of land had been practically handed to you , for you had always been strong and with your striking beauty, well, the masculine portion of Hell bent over backwards just to please you.
That had been so, so, so long ago.
When you first heard his broadcast, oh, you were struck . Finally, something to cure your boredom! Truly, it had been millenia since you had felt this thrill. Pure and utter destruction and chaos, with such whimsical humor thrown in! His radio show had been the highlight of your day for several weeks.
When you finally set your eyes on him, you were shocked. It wasn’t really because of his appearance, you knew such an attractive voice had to belong to a demon that was of equal visual standing, no . What shocked you had been how leisurely he walked up your temple, microphone spinning in his hand.
“ Alastor ! How wonderful to finally see you in person.” You had been so jovial with him. A gentle smile adorned your lovely features as you eyed him eagerly up and down, sitting idly on your throne.
“A fan! Always a pleasure to meet an admirer!” He offered you his hand and you took it gladly. You both shook, eyeing one another up and down, assessing each other’s strengths and physical weaknesses. You wouldn’t pose much of a problem for him, he knew. The rest of the old demons had fallen so easily, he was certain you would too. It would be a shame though, you had been the first to greet him with such a passion.
He had not met many polished demons.
“I have to admit, I haven’t missed a single one of your enthralling shows,” you grinned up at him, “you have a bright future down here.” He seemed to preen at the compliment, standing just a bit taller, sticking out his chest in a fashion of pride. It was not often he was praised for his efforts. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to demolish your soul; you could end up being of some use to him.
“Well, I hate to square up with you right after such a lovely interlude, but it’s time to get down to brass tax.” You rose a brow. What was this man saying to you? Your smile strained, narrowing your eyes, eyebrows furrowing.
“It’s time for business . I’m looking to set up shop here, darling, and well, the view is just lovely , so I’ll have to take this patch of land off your hands.” You blinked at him before looking around you. Your temple had become overgrown with vines and moss, the lake that had initially been clear had turned to marsh land, filled with cat-tails and charming alligators. You adored your home, but you knew it wasn’t exactly prime real-estate down here in Hell.
“Alright.” If he wanted it, he could have it. You shrugged. There was no use arguing with him over it. You could easily roam for a bit to find a more suitable place for yourself to reside.
Alastor let out a huff of laughter, his eyes slanting in a narrow as he drummed his fingers along the metal pole of the microphone: “Alright, what ?” His grin grew with an intensity, dangerously , preparing for the worst from you. You were an older demon in comparison to him, but despite his short span of time here, he hadn’t heard much about you. There could have been something about you he didn’t know, some hidden trick within your sleeves.
“Alright, you can take it.” He suddenly felt your presence beside him, your eyes so wide and innocent despite the dark curl of a smile that was etched upon your lips. “This place has been overgrown by weeds and I’d just love to see what you do with it.” You clasped your hands together excitedly.
“ Is that so? ” There had to be something else you weren’t telling him, some dastardly plot to fight him and attempt to spite him, destroy him . You had staked out this land for years from what he had heard. From one gruesome tale he had garnered, someone a few centuries ago had merely fallen onto your land and he had been disintegrated in an instant. Come to think about it , the stain of his ashes was still behind him, just at the beginning of your temple.
“I’ve grown bored here, you see, and your little radio show has been so wonderful to listen too. I’m curious to see what you do next. In short… I’m rather fond of your antics.” Your lashes had fluttered up at him so prettily.
And then you gasped as if you had the most amazing idea.
“Would you care to join me in my next hostile takeover?” There was silence, the sound of static resounding around the immediate area, before he held out his arm for you. Perhaps it would do him some good to make an ally down here. It couldn’t hurt to have such a vixen in his corner, a powerful one at that. A large bonus was that you weren’t insufferable as the rest of the vermin that plagued these lands.
“ It would be an honor. ” You took his arm and you hadn’t looked back.
That had been some time ago. He had turned your old temple into a home for himself and you had helped him throughout the years, cheering him on and delighting in wreaking havoc with him. It was how the two of you bonded . It had gotten deeper through the years, filled with so much sexual tension that when you did share your first tryst, no other demon had caught sight of you for a solid three months .
As it stood currently, you were besotted by the demon. No one had been able to charm you in such a way as he had, and oh, how you adored his charm.
Alastor looked up from the piano. You were draped across a refurbished chaise, the rich maroon velvet was warm against your skin. You never did enjoy wearing clothes. So constricting . You had gotten used to your flowing silks and chiffon loosely draped over your form. Some things the mortals had definitely ruined in your absence.
His eyes noticed your frown. It had been happening more and more these days. It pained him to see you so undressed. Especially when he was playing your favorite; Debussy was difficult to find down here, you normally delighted in how his dangerous claws would dance over the keys, sending lovely melodies through the air around you both. His eyes narrowed; how unsatisfactory.
“Darling, what has you so blue? It’s been weeks since I have seen you properly attired!” He needed to change this. You were far too beautiful to frown like this, especially while in his presence. You simply were not allowed to be in such a state around him.
“ Deerling , I am bored !” you exclaimed, resting a hand on your head dramatically before you turned onto your back, throwing your arms up to the ceiling to demonstrate just how frustrated you were. “Nothing happens in this forsaken place, and those charming idiots at the hotel just aren’t doing it for me anymore.” His smile softened at the sound of how adorably huffy you were. It was also a rare occasion that you addressed him so, he felt his ears perk up at the precious moniker.
“Come then, darling.” He stood from the piano bench and covered the keys. You eyed him warily, beginning to sit up. “Come, come, we have places to go.” He motioned at you with a wave of his hand, beckoning you closer.
“And just where do we need to be?” You highly doubted that you actually had anywhere to go. He was probably just going to start teasing you. You were only half right. Despite your uncertainty, you rose, red silks flowing after you gracefully as you drew closer to him.
“You are going to ruin your surprise , sweet priestess.” He knew how much you loved surprises. If he could get you to believe that this was a planned trip and not spur of the moment, all would be well and you should be just fine. He saw the result of his words immediately. A beautiful smile spread over your lips like sweet honey.
“A surprise, you say?” Your interest had piqued. You could feel yourself grinning, coming to him like he was a beacon in the dark. With his body turned towards you, you rose your arms, sliding your fingers up the soft cloth of his suit jacket. Your fingers curled around his arms, his own hands cupping the smooth skin of your elbows. Your chest pressed softly against his abdomen, head tilted back entirely just so you could look up into those lovely glowing eyes. “You have a surprise for me?”
Your eyes were so teasing as they blinked up at him in mock innocence. Your warmth caressed him gently through his many layers, just giving a mere taste of the heat you could stir within in his own body. You truly were so tempting, even to a being with such selective tastes as his.
“Maybe.” His grin was surely going to split his face in two one day. His hands slowly released their grasp on you, only to slide smoothly up to your shoulders, coming to tangle into the wild locks of your hair. Pin pricks of pleasure flowed over your skin. Perhaps your boredom would come to a close.
One moment you were sharing a tender embrace in the alcove for his piano, the next you both were in the center of the pleasure district in the fifth circle of hell. You weren’t really that fond of his preferred method of travel. He never slowed down so it always had you stumbling into him whenever you both landed. What did he have planned? You rose a brow, keeping your eyes locked on him.
He was just pleased that your smile was still on your captivating lips. You both moved, revolving around one another with practised grace like the planets above, coming to stand side by side. He always did insist on escorting you places. You found it sweet that he would stay so gallant despite his place of residence.
His manners often made you delirious with want.
Your arm looped carefully about his own and he made sure to keep you tucked safely near his body. You might not have needed the protection, but it soothed his inner gentleman to know he was keeping his woman safe.
The fifth circle of Hell had more sinful offerings than any of the other circles did. You wondered briefly what you both were doing here to begin with— and more importantly, what your surprise was! The thought had you bounce a bit on your heels as you made your way through a crowded street.
You were adorable when it came to gifts. He assumed correctly that your time spent as a priestess had made you grow accustomed to receiving gifts and favors from those who wanted a deeper connection with your old Gods. While he hated surprises (they were loathsome things in his opinion mostly because they could be absolutely anything ), he found it charismatic and endearing that you liked such things.
There were all sorts of demons dwelling about, searching for some sort of sin to appease their afterlife of eternal damnation. One thing that was lovely about Hell was that is was an extremely colorful place. The residents came in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and shades. The pleasure district was alive with debauchery; it made your demon heart happy to see such sin. When Alastor stopped you both, you eyed him once again. By his mannerisms alone, you could feel that you were nearing the specific place that would harbor what was due.
This should be enough. He thought. He slipped his arm about your waist, squeezing you gently while stopping his strides. You both had spent enough time together for you to easily read his body language.
He had noticed over the years that each year your mood would drop. A seasonal depression , if you would. It was about that time of year again, if not a bit early , meaning that you both would do what you always did in these times of mild boredom. He tapped his microphone on the cobblestone, causing a great barrier to enclose around the pleasure district. The people took pause as panic began to flood the area. They knew what this meant.
“Happy Slaughter Season, my dear.”
You were grinning, a look almost as maniacal as his own. Truly, the most wonderful time of the year. You delighted yourself in these times of pure, utter, raw chaos. Your eyes were alive with passion , bouncing on the balls of your feet as you released a giggle of excitement.
“ Oh my sweet Alastor! You shouldn’t have!” You gasped, clapping your hands together, eyes widening in wonder as you watched the realisation settle upon their sweet faces when they realized just who was in their midst. Unlike yourself, not all residents of hell celebrated Slaughter Season as you and your darling deer did. They were ungrateful of the wondrous holiday.
You could smell the fear in the air and oh, it was so wonderful. It reminded you of the Great Wars of your time in which you had both fought and started. Alastor, however, would reminisce in those precious moments before he would finally slice into his victims. You didn’t have to miss the screaming right now, because one small chihuahua demon began squealing in terror.
It was time to begin!
You pulled the short swords you always had on your person out from the hilt on your thigh. Thigh holsters were a wonderful mortal creation! The metal of your blades sparkled, as you always kept them pristine. They were one of your most treasured belongings.
At the beginning of your stay in the underworld you had stolen a set of special twin short swords. One was made of steel, the blade powerful and strong in most dimensions so to speak. Most things were hurt when you stabbed them so the design was simply genius. The other had been forged in Heaven and been blessed by an angel. These types of weapons were rare here in Hell, simply because they were so deadly. You could tell the difference between the two by the very sheer glow the angelic blade possessed. They were your pride and joy. One could maim a demon, but the other could kill one instantly . It was your favorite game to play during this festivus holiday!
Alastor summoned a comfortable chair, flaring his coat tails out before sitting and patiently crossing one lean leg over the other. He leaned his microphone against his legs. Next to him he summoned a small side table and some coffee. It was best to let you have your pick of the litter, so to speak. Besides it was very entertaining watching your precious smile as you massacred and tormented the demons that were going to be trying to claw their way from your deadly being. A very bemused smile sat on his lips.
“Have fun, darling, I’ll join you shortly!” These moments he treasured. The pure unfiltered joy that filled your statuesque body was contagious.
“Take your time, sweetheart, we don’t have to rush!” You spun your blades in your hands, your loose wraps phasing into your old battle armor. Powerful steel was now between your luscious body and the rest of these cowards. Oh, you felt so young! Just a young priestess once more fighting for glory and gold! Your eyes locked onto the cowering demon to your immediate left.
His fear was exhilarating . You cut him down with one powerful swipe, splitting him open from neck to navel. You weren’t sure if he had been a singer, but his vocal chords were very well formed.
Alastor sipped at his coffee while you examined your first kill. You were so fetching in these moments, like a curious cat sniffing about her first dead mouse.
You hummed, satisfied with the sharpness of your blades and continued on. There was a group of demons that looked like they had attempted to arm themselves. You brought your blades together, sliding them against each other causing sparks to light up your face. For those you were about to cut down you were sure it was terrifying, but Alastor had once told you how ‘dashing’ he thought you looked.
Your steps were swift, almost as if you were gliding towards them. Their screams made lovely background music to the sound of their skin splitting apart. Blood was such an interesting consistency sometimes. You enjoyed watching it stain the cobblestone beneath your feet.
It was like watching a puppy set loose at the dog park. You were darting every which way, skewering some demons while you dismembered others. Alaster leaned against his hand. He could even easily see your tail wag in these moments if you had one. Your exuberance was simply buzzing through the air. He hummed to himself tapping his microphone and opening up a broadcast.
“Well folks it’s that time of year once more! Hurry up and protect your loved ones if you have any, because it’s Slaughter Season! The happiest time of the year for some, isn’t that right , dear?” He kept his eyes on you. You were now arranging the heads you head severed into a pile. You did enjoy keeping count.
“Yes, darling !” You were up to about 14, but you just knew you had missed one. Heads did have a tendency to roll around once they were separated from their respective body.
A lovely jazz tune began to fill the bubble Alastor had made. Music was good for getting everyone into the proper headspace of course! Jazz and hopeless screaming was always a perfect match in his book.
You found it! It had rolled under a mailbox! The poor demons tongue stuck out of its mouth, comical x’s over his eyes. You grinned. What a wonderful head! You simply had the best lover in Hell. For him to put this together for you, just to make you smile. It was just so painfully romantic ! He knew you all too well.
When your pile of heads— that was sure to grow in number —was settled for the moment, you resumed your decimation of the pleasure district. You heard cowering in the dumpster in the alley nearest you. They never learned. You might have let some demons live if they hadn’t been such cowards .
As you ducked into an alley, Alastor finished his coffee. It always tasted better in the presence of bloodlust. He set his cup onto the table at his side, sending it back home. He rose, dusting himself off before finally grabbing his microphone, his chair disappearing with the snap of his fingers.
“Well, avid listeners, shall we see where the priestess has gone?” He mused, making his way to where the screams were now resonating. As he strode through the now bloody streets, he spotted a few heads you had missed. You always did get so excited , you could barely contain yourself! He spotted you tossing limbs into a wayward dumpster. For some reason there was a large hole in the side. As was tradition on this joyous holiday, it was steadily leaking blood. Alastor picked up a stray arm and made his way over to you.
“ Can I lend you a hand? ” You turned at the sound of his sharp voice. The moment you spotted the limb he was holding out towards you, you let out a soft giggle.
“Please, darling! We need to wind up the strays, they always do try to escape. We tell them every year that they are welcome to join the forray. It’s time they listen to their elders. ” You dropped the decapitated foot you were holding just as Alastor tossed the arm into the dumpster. You both reached for each others hands. You loved it when his were covered in blood. It made his skin so soft. Blood was an excellent moisturizer .
“You hear that, folks? It’s time you join in on the celebration! Now darling, where did you say they were?” You tugged on his hand, childish in your happiness.
“Over here! Follow me if you would, you dapper fellow.” You led him forward, turning your head to give him a coquettish wink. This was one of your favorite parts of Slaughter Season.
Without fail, whatever demons were left, just after your exciting opening number everything would quiet down within Alastor’s barrier. The demons would begin to hide. Some would band together, thinking that there was safety in numbers. It was sweet almost, but always silly in the end. Once Slaughter Season had begun, neither of you would stop until it was just the two of you standing in a complete downpour of carnage.
Alastor loved joining at this stage. The hunt was always the best part for him. With jazz playing lightly around you both, your hands entwined sweetly, just enjoying the bloodshed, what man could ask for more ? He certainly couldn’t, and goodness, you were just brimming with satisfaction.
As often happens with true predators, neither of your footsteps could be heard. Alastor knew how to be quiet when he needed to be and it was always much more amusing when you got the best of your prey in every sense. Even his microphone naturally lowered the sound of the static, enjoying the broadcast almost as much as you were.
You both moved from the alley, looking both ways as you were about to cross the street. That incident was never to repeat itself, getting ran over during your own holiday was embarrassing . You spotted it first, but you were feeling so touched that Alastor had started off the celebration for you, just to see you smile again. You squeezed his hand and motioned with your eyes to the demons feet that were sticking out from a busted window. They were alive because those feet were definitely quaking.
Alastor’s smile became more genuine. It was a grand act of affection on your part, allowing him to have one of your kills. You were always so greedy when it came down to collecting heads. He leant down, almost bending in half just to kiss your forehead. The caress had you close your eyes, relaxing into the sweet gesture. He was rewarded with a seductive smile that made his skin buzz to life under his suit and a gentle kiss to his nose. You liked how his face would scrunch up in his smile, almost like a rabbit. He felt his chest flutter as you openly admired him.
You were the perfect demon for him.
You stood back and watched as he sashayed forward, a wonderful swing in his step. He materialized next to the demon. “What are we hiding from?” The demon wailed in shock just as Alastor ripped his throat out with his teeth.
You let out a howl of laughter. You weren’t sure why you found it so funny that he would always bait his kills, but it was just so amusing! Perhaps it was the way his voice would always make the demon jump, sometimes the shock even made them cry, but you were sure you laughed because it just made him and his microphone so happy. You saw the faux smile on the little instrument now. The eye had shut into an upwards arch. It made you glad to see them both enjoying this miraculous holiday.
Murdering demons together was always such a wholesome experience for the both of you. You both almost danced towards the remaining survivors, intent on having the best time you possibly could.
You finally gathered up your last head, Alastor rose his microphone to do one last sweep of the area. “All demons in the next two circles have fled the area, boss!” Alastor hummed and nodded. Truly a successful Slaughter Season. He liked to think each one was better than the last.
“Darling! Look!” He turned to the sound of your playful voice. You pointed gleefully at your newest creation. An alter lined with severed limbs looked proudly upon him. At the center was a very impressive pile of heads, the faces all pointed outwards.
This was your most spectacular Slaughter Alter yet. Your pile of heads was definitely bigger than it had been last year. They were all so colorful! You treated your decapitated heads like ornaments for a tree. Alastor hmm’d in appreciation. You had gone for a more classic pyramid shape this year. It was a murderer’s dream come true to see such avid anarchy displayed in such a gory fashion.
He looked around him briefly, ahh! There we are. It had become tradition that he would place one head of his own onto your pile, like a demented star of sorts . He stepped over to the limp body and bent down, sinking his claws into the dead demons neck, severing tendons and arteries so that when he stood, the body would slump away. A wet thud slapped blood across his slacks as the body returned to the ground.
He handed you the last head, and there was even a bit of spine hanging from it! “It’s beautiful.” Your eyes were wide as you took the head from his hands, carefully grazing his fingers with your own as you grasped the last head for your alter.
“Only the best for you, my priestess.” You blushed at the sincerity in his words and how his eyes had softened as he said your preferred pet-name. You truly had waited lifetimes for him. You wouldn’t have traded them for a second, because they had led you to him. He had slipped his claws over your arms, leaving lingering touches as he soothed his fingers down to your waist. “Why don’t you do it this year?”
You? “But Alastor , you always put the last head on.” Your gaze was almost in disbelief. This honor belonged to him. You had built these alters through the years as a symbol for all you would do for him. He needed to put the last head on! It was symbolic for all he would offer you in return, it was tradition !
“I want you to place it. You have a much better eye for these things anyway. It looks like you have a few hundred over there at least!” His laugh track followed his silly joke. You released a sigh from your nose, holding the head close to your stomach. Your eyes still held some sort pause as you looked up at him. In your eyes this was him putting his faith in you, his trust . This sort of thing did not come easily, especially not from him.
“Are you sure?” Your hesitance was sweet, but wholly unnecessary. This head was safe in your hands.
“Darling, this is all for you today.” His large hand cupped your cheek, smearing blood over your skin. He saw your gaze turn misty, your smile so large he knew it was hurting you. This man had kicked off Slaughter Season early, just so he could see a smile on your face once more. While most knew Alastor was deeply selfish when it came to his own entertainment, you knew that the only person’s wellbeing he cared about other than his own, was yours .
“You’re too good to me, Alastor.” Your glee had returned full force. You spun around, a rhythm in your step as you approached your precious pile of heads. This one would lie directly on top, the spine flowing down the middle just so… and… with little re-adjustments here and there, it was perfect.
You always took so much care in your alters. He wondered briefly what the ones you used to make looked like. He was sure they were just as elaborate as the ones you made now. He made his way over to you, admiring the puddles of blood that had gathered on the uneven cobblestone. A slim arm wrapped around your waist as you both admired your handiwork.
It was a bit taller than him this year. He really was so proud of you. “A successful Slaughter Season, darling. Good work.” You nodded beside him, leaning into his side with a sated smile. You both enjoyed the silence and the alter before you. It was a true mystery how you were able to construct such wonders with limbs, Alastor had never seen the like before he met you.
You always felt so full in these moments. Your boredom had been chased far, far away, leaving something so rewarding deep in your bones. You turned to press your front against his side, your eyes locked on his intrigued gaze. You had always appreciated how he liked your alters. When he felt your stare, he turned his head to meet yours. Everything you never said aloud could always be read in these moments.
There was adoration and affection written on your features, from your upturned brow, to your content smile, to the way your hands were now hugging him to your chest, what you could reach anyway.
“Thank you, Alastor.” His name fell from your lips like a prayer, like he was your new God. He returned the sentiments in your gaze by turning his body. He took a hold on your waist and pulled you upwards. He knew how much you loved being dragged up his body. It always felt so sensual, and with the dying remnants of bloodlust in your system, it always gave way to real lust.
You wrapped your legs around his slender waist, your arms lacing about his neck. You and he were dripping with blood at the moment. It was natural after snuffing out so many. You loved it when his face was splattered with the dark substance. You slowly placed your hand on his cheek, staining him with your touch.
You were so quiet. Often times you were contemplative and choosy with your words, but in these times he enjoyed observing just how full of emotion you were. Bloodshed had a way of turning you sentimental. Though he wouldn’t admit it, mostly because you already knew, he normally felt the same way as well. It was rare to find someone who shared such passion about something so select and mccabe. His eyes closed and he turned his head so he could lick your palm.
The metallic taste coated his tongue, a small moan rumbling in his chest. It was the true taste of sin, dark and so very forbidden . When he opened his eyes your features belied just how aroused you were at his simple action.
Heat swarmed through your stomach, spreading powerfully through your body. Your very limbs started to shake with want as his warm tongue had flicked against your palm. You wanted him . Your mouth opened just so you could taste the air. Everything smelled like blood, even he did. You started to squirm in his hold with the moisture you could feel gathering between your legs.
His claws flexed on your thighs, keeping you still against him. The way blush spread over your face, even through the blood spatters, had his chest tighten. There was never going to be another demon, another being, that could set him aflame as you did. He lowered you both to the ground by kneeling. The short descent had your breath quicken in anticipation. He could see your chest straining against your soaked battle armor.
When you were both safely seated in the cooling blood he rose a claw to trace over your lips. You never put up a fight in these moments, just happy to be touched by him. He loved the way your jaw would drop open for him, your gaze turning hazy as he thumbed at your bottom lip, pushing and teasing against it. Your tongue flicked against him and you released a deep moan at the taste of his blood coated skin.
This was everything you could ever want from him. Your hands were subconsciously trailing over his shoulders, just making a mess of everything. You both were already so filthy, covered in blood and bits of minced demon. You felt drunk. It was your favorite way to be taken.
Alastor hummed, yes this would do nicely . He snapped his fingers, your armor and wispy drapes leaving your form. He pressed his hand to the ground, making sure he was coated by demon blood, before bringing his hand to your chest.
The streaked handprint that painted over your skin had you seeing stars. You were buzzing with stimulation, your neck barely being able to support your inebriated state. The way the blood looked on your skin, so dark and wet, had your thighs trying to clench around his narrow waist. You would take anything you could to ease the pulsing ache between your thighs. Alastor smirked at how you reacted to his antics.
His body was something solid between your legs. The skin of your thighs was sensitive at the moment, alive with warmth. It was so easy to slide them against his blood soaked suit. The fabric had a skin like quality when wet and it almost made you forget that he was fully clothed. Almost .
As your thighs massaged his sides he gently laid you down onto the ground. The moment your shoulders touched the chilled liquid, your body arched into him, searching for his heat. Your spine made crescent moons look ridiculous , beauty in its true form lay within the gorgeous shape your supple body made. Even when you were beyond heated, your body possessed a grace rival to his own.
It was almost too much for you. All you could smell was blood and arousal, yours and his. A cold chill swept over you as lust clouded your senses.
His eyes couldn’t leave your shuddering form. Your body was quivering in its overstimulation, nipples tightening, abdomen twitching, your thighs squeezing him tight as you tried to ground yourself in this haze. He slapped his hands into the blood, the sound making your body jump. Blood spattered prettily onto the both of you, Jackson Pollock had nothing on Alastor.. He dragged his hands over your skin once more, coloring your ribs red before tweaking your nipples in his claws, giving them a pinch that had your eyes roll back. The very sharp tips of his claws just barely broke the skin, the pert buds darkened and just a single bead of ruby life gathered on the skin there.
It was a lovely activity, painting your skin. He knew you loved it when his claws would slip, accidently leaving a cut on your skin. You loved the way warmth would spread over your skin, warm, wet, hot, blood turning your skin heated once more. Your heaving chest made it difficult for him to be gentle in such moments, you would move erratically sometimes on purpose, just so he would mark you.
You were starting to feel the sign of his own excitement, pressing hard into your backside as your bottom and lower back rested in his kneeling lap. “Alastor, stop teasing .” It was a murmur, a brief light shining through the fog of your mind. He needed to at least take his clothes off. Such a lovely form as his deserved to be worshipped, especially at an alter as lovely as the one you had just made. He did so love prolonging these indiscreet moments of heated desire, but you longed for the true feel of his skin on yours.
The snap of his fingers echoed in your head and the moment you heard it, smooth grey skin pressed into you.
When your body was so vulnerable before him, it was difficult to deny any of your wishes. He could tell you were in a sweet mental haze, where you could barely think, the only thing you were able to do in these moments was feel . And feel him at that, for it was only with him you experienced such delirium. It was difficult to control himself in such moments.
So he didn’t.
Finally with your bare skin resting on him, your desire leaking onto his cock, he felt himself snap. Static crackled along your skin, making your hair stand on end from the phantom touch. His claws sank into your waist, keeping you still.
A pained groan left your parted lips. It was painful, and oh so wonderful when he lost control with you. You were one of those rare individuals where if you were experiencing pain, true , excruciating pain, well, it would only make you moan for how lovely it felt. Alastor found this to be fascinating, as well as so very attractive. Your abdomen fluttered at the small incisions. His thumbs were circling your belly-button, painting a spiral onto your stomach.
You remained pliant in his hold while he adjusted himself, slipping into your throbbing channel. The initial stretch made you sigh. It felt like home, being full, tight, it made beads of sweat start to gather on your skin, mixing with all the blood. You were glowing with want. Slowly he filled you to the brim.
Times like this, where you could almost feel him impaling you from the inside, blood, yours and other demons, trailing over your skin, his hands holding you, painting you in his image, it had you lost in a sea of pleasure and you wanted nothing more than to stay there for all eternity.
Alastor released a handsome growl. The noises that were spilling from your lips were simply divine. Depraved whimpers, debauched moans, speech had entirely left you. At this point you were only a being of physical feeling. He could ruin you all he wanted, and you would always love it.
Two large hands slammed by your face, more blood splattering over you both. Your mouth opened just to get a taste, your tongue sloppily gathering what was around your lips. Alastors eyes narrowed into slits, his smile eerie and filled with promise. His hips snapped into you, making sure to drag his body over your clit each time. A choking gurgle left you breathless. There was only him inside you and around you, your whole world, he was all you needed anyway.
He began a punishing pace, unable to restrain himself any longer. For such a powerful demon, you loved giving everything up for him. Seeing you so vulnerable, so willing, it had sensual waves of heat travelling up his spine turning him into a mad beast. You were so warm and hot around his cock. The velvet ruffles of your channel squeezing and sucking him in deeper to you, but he could go no deeper, less he split you in half.
You tried to focus on him. He always looked so impish when he was like this, his ears turned backwards, his grin would fall into a growl, his teeth promising to leave marks all over your body. And his eyes… his eyes would glow so brightly it was almost painful to look into the red depths.
But you wanted to see.
Weakly, you rose your arms to wrap around his shoulders. You were holding on as best you could for how your body was quite ready to fall over the abyss of masochistic delight. It was a dance as old as time between you both, between two monsters, just seeking the last thrill of bloodlust with each other. Just there, you could see his eyes set on you, so bright and warm, focused on the signs of your gratification. You could never last for long like this. You both knew that.
“Please, my deerling ,” you pleaded, eyes struggling to stay on him.
His pace quickened even further. The squelching noises you were making together made the most lovely music. A deep sound rumbled in his chest before he felt the tell tale signs of his release. Sharp waves of pleasure started coursing through you, your back spasming to bring you closer to the source of such ravishing solace. Your arms brought him closer to your chest, clinging to everything he was giving you.
His lower back tensed, your lovely body was almost seizing with bliss below him. You pulled him over the edge with you and he gave short heated thrusts, making sure to pump you full of his seed. You had once told him that the feeling was akin to being reborn, for you would forget everything but him. He sickly loved how you considered your life to be nothing before him. He finally understood why people did this, but he knew it would only feel this exquisite, when he was inside you.
The two demons lay entwined around each other, heaving for air that just would not bring them back soon enough. You smiled around your breaths, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Happy Slaughter Season, darling.”
It truly was, the most wonderful time, of the year.
Kisses from Cumbersmaug!
Chapter 5: Demon Horns and Other Things
Another request, this time by the lovely Del on our discord! Come join us here: https://discord.gg/us53gym
3: "You're not going out in that outfit."
13: "I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right here"
“GIRL, YOU LOOK GREAT!”
Halloween in Hell was, as you would probably figure out quickly, something that was intense. You had always been the type to be bold in your actions, often going with Angel and Cherri Bomb to kick ass on the battlefield. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for your wild side to come out with them at your side; you felt a bit more free, without restraint, and without repercussions.
You supposed Pride was your downfall; hell, you were completely convinced it was the reason that you had landed in this place to begin with. You delicately snapped a strap on your thigh. Yeah, pride was your kryptonite. Your luscious body was barely covered in black satin, sinful straps wrapping about your form, reminiscent of a present . The bell you had around your neck would only lead others to think that you might possibly be into far more submissive than what was true. The pentagram of straps on your chest had you feeling satisfaction for your home in Pentagram City; afterall, it was your job to represent it. With your two besties by your side tonight, you were going to do just that.
“You guys,” you bat your eyelashes at them, standing on your toes to peer up at them with feigned innocence: “That’s so sweet! I couldn’t have done it without our little Angel over here,” Oh, the irony of how Angel Dust towered over you. You ended it with a salacious wink, smoothing your hands over sides, allowing the thin ribbons to twitch over your skin in response to your touch.
“Bitch, ‘yer gonna have ‘em other bitches bendin’ over backwards.” Angel himself was a representation of his own name; truthfully, that’s what the idea was behind the costumes to begin with. You were a demon, Angel was an angel, and Cherri was… the bomb.
Angel had white feathered wings strapped to his lanky body, a sparkly crop top to match with his classic black mini-skirt, of course. He had stolen them from the studio, he thought about keeping them rather than returning them later because he really did look like a snack. It wasn’t surprising. He was one of the sexiest harlequin bitches he knew and he was damn proud of that fact.
Cherri had been more cryptic in her costume, deciding to wear all black clothes with a metallic sheen to them, just so she could hit them with her stupid joke. She was really just itching to start a fight with someone at the party you all were going to attend. There wasn’t really much more reason than that for her to go, because she really loved a good fight. You, along with your incredibly revealing costume, had little devil horns on your head, held together with a band that was hidden in your hair.
You weren’t sure what you noticed first: their sudden expressions going sour, or the feeling of a presence behind you.
“Oh no, the party pooper’s here.” Angel murmured, rolling his eyes at the way Alastor was already turning manic while he eyed your costume. Angel and Cherri eyed each other before looking back down to you. You could fend for yourself with this one, they weren’t going to touch that problem even if you had paid them.
“We’ll be outside.” Cherri responded, giving a sharp-toothed smile in your direction; and, not even waiting for your response, they swiftly turned towards the door and left to wait outside for you. You looked infinitely confused for a moment before it dawned upon you. Slowly, you leaned your head back to look up, meeting the gaze of the Bastard™ himself.
“Hi.” You fluttered your lashes up at him in appeasement, holding your hands together in front of you innocently as if you didn’t have a clue why he was looking so utterly primal. The pose did not have the desired effect though, as you were merely pushing your breasts together with the action, smiling at him like you wanted him to take you.
“You’re not going out in that... outfit.” He tapped your sternum with his microphone, eyeing the way the satin barely covered anything whatsoever. What were you even thinking, leaving in something that would have the wolves chasing after you in an instant. He had used the term outfit loosely. You would have been far more covered had you just wrapped yourself in a ball of yarn.
“Oh, this?” You looked down, a grin peppering your rosy cheeks. “Isn’t it pretty?” a small giggle fell from your lips then, before you released a satisfied sigh.
He narrowed his eyes, his grin straining. “Pretty isn’t how I would describe it.”
You let out a mocking gasp, hand flying to the pentagram symbol on your chest. “How would you describe it then?” You turned to look back up at him, your eyebrows lifting.
“Whoreish … More suited for private showings for a particular horned radio host.” He finished with a little bounce in his leg. This would do just fine in private, but to show all your lovely skin to such peasants, the thought disgusted him. Why would you demean yourself in such a way?
Your eyes narrowed before shrugging your shoulders, “I hear what you’re saying, darling, but I’ve got people waiting for me. Places to see.” You turned back around, ready to walk right out the door.
He dissipated right to where you wanted to be, in front of the door. His neck cracked with how fast his head tilted. “You’re not leaving dressed like that. I won’t allow it.” There was no way he could let you out in something so scandalous. He refused.
“Uh,” you were forcefully paused, bringing your hand back to your side. “Yeah, I am.” Side-stepping, you attempting to duck right past him.
His hand slammed so hard against the stained glass, spiderweb cracks began to appear under his hand. “ No, you’re not. ” He couldn’t let the world see his little fire-cracker in such… attire. “Put on a coat at least, it could be chilly out!”
“Get out of my way, Alastor.” You snapped finally, your patience thin because of course he would do something like this. “I don’t want a coat. Cherri has one in the car.” You lied straight through your teeth.
“Don’t lie to me.”
How the fuck did he know? Your eyes were mere slits.
“You’re an awful liar, my chick-a-dee, your eagerness proves you wrong each time! Now, come, let’s dress you up with something more fitting.” In more, in so much more clothing. He was going to put you in a turtle neck and in a burka… With a veil.
“No.” You huffed, suddenly darting forward and trying to grab the door handle. You were going to that party if it was the last thing you did.
He felt himself start cracking. No one had disobeyed his orders in so long, it felt horrible. You were being so obstinate. His hands started shaking against the door, the glass cracking further under the stress.
“Look at what you did!” You gasped at how the glass was starting to chip off. “Now Charlie is going to be pissed at both of us. Just move, you old grandma!”
“Who said my name?” You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you snapped your gaze to Charlie. She didn’t seem surprised at the outfit since it was, in fact, Halloween. Slyly, you looked back up to your lover (in this case, your hater).
“You gonna show her?”
He was at a complete loss. Alastor took a very angry step away from the door, allowing Charlie to get a full eye of just what had happened to the (probably very expensive) stained glass door. He wasn’t looking forward to her reaction, or how you were most assuredly going to dash away to that damned party.
Your eyes were squinted in amusement, holding your tongue between your teeth to not lose your damn mind right then and there.
“Al!” She admonished, “You said you wanted to help run the hotel! Not break it!” She came forward, opening the door to check the damage on the other side. You could have taken this as your glorious moment to flee.
But you didn’t. Not yet. You were having too much fun.
You walked over to the rather pissed off Radio Demon, hell, you could see the steam coming out of his ears. You stood on your tippy-toes once again, sticking your tongue out at him before reaching up and grabbing his collar, yanking him down to your level. “It’s okay, I’ll save the fun for you.”
“I don’t care.”
Liar. You papped him on the cheek.
“You know, Al, you still look hot,” you were more referring to how painfully angry he was, but he didn’t need to know that part. “I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right here.” You whispered as a coquettish smile spread over your lips. You placed a kiss on his lips quickly and before he even had the chance to react properly, you were moving so fast he almost assumed you disappeared before him.
And there you went, leaving him to think about his actions and the fact that you dared to call him a grandma.
Chapter 6: Demon Horns and Other Things Part II
As requested multiple times: the consequence chapter! More one-shots coming soon! ;)
There were always consequences to actions, no matter if it were a good consequence or a bad one. The party had gone extremely well, in your opinion, there were demons of all shapes, sizes, colors; some chatting you up while others left you alone. Angel Dust had been right, however, you stole the spotlight the moment you walked into the room. A plume of smoke causing you to cough and wave your hand in front of your face as you followed the two hooligans to the middle of the dance floor.
Your costume hadn’t been that bad, considering the sheer amount of ones of that practically leaked out cleavage and genitals. Yours was actually pretty tame compared to those that lurked within the depths of the room, but it was your first party, and you always had next year. At first you had been rather hesitant to leave their sides, but after a few drinks, you found yourself grinding down on other demons and having a blast. The movements didn’t have any ties behind them; you were there for a fun time. They were there for a fun time. You could handle your drinks to a certain extent, but once you went over that waterfall, it was game over.
Needless to say, your actions had become clumsy, and by the time you were heading back to the Hotel with your two besties, you couldn’t walk straight. The three of you were a giggly mess, Angel Dust absolutely losing his mind over little things that didn’t make a lick of sense. Cherri, surprisingly, was the most sober, stating how she actually would have to be on her toes if any of those street-licking hounds itched for a fight.
You stumbled up the stairs to the entrance, eyeing the cracked window with a frown. You hiccuped, about to shrug your shoulders and ignore it completely when Angel spoke up. “Got angry, huh?” His one set of arms were on his hips while the others were on his knees, trying to keep himself upright. The moment the thought of having to deal with him crossed your mind, you sobered up a bit, mostly because you actually wanted to survive the night.
You didn’t respond, leaning against the door before pushing in and entering the lobby. Quiet. Oh right, it was late. Or early? Your intoxicated mind wasn’t quite sure. Your attention was pulled to an effeminate gasp, a slam resounding throughout the room. The dim lighting didn’t help you see what exactly happened, but with the slur of curses falling from Angel’s mouth, you could only guess that he had fallen. “Sh! We can’t-“
Someone cleared their throat.
There was a low whistle that originated from Cherri Bomb, peacing out with a ‘later’ because she did not want to get involved in whatever that was. Angel Dust had dusted himself off, your back turned from whoever it was—you had a plenty good idea of who it was, actually—and, peeking behind you, placed two hands on your shoulders, leaning down to you.
“Good luck, slut.”
You lost the ability to contain your amusement, letting out a loud ‘ha!’ straight at his face. Almost immediately after, you found your mood dampening with a sigh, shoulders sagging.
He left you alone, in a sense, making a big show of staying out of range of the individual behind you.
You turned around, slowly , to ensure you didn’t stumble and further confirm his point. You didn’t really need to say anything or show anything, he could smell the acidic scent from here. “I dunno what…” your brain lagged as you shake your head, attempting to walk past him. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“You reek of cheap vodka… and other cheap demons.”
Well yeah, you weren’t exactly partying with Lucifer himself. You weren’t exactly sure why he was so pissed about you going to a party, but it seemed that your thoughts would not go unanswered. He grabbed your arm when you were walking past him, a frown now lacing your lips.
“You left to go defile yourself with other rubbish-” you could hear the sneer in his voice; you didn’t want to look up at him. Some instinctive part of you told you that it was probably safest you didn’t. “-When you could have stayed here and allowed me to defile you, if that was your wish. ” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.
But that hadn’t been your intention.
“No, no, instead you not only disrespected me but yourself in the process and now you are drunk.” He raised his voice and you winced. His grip on your arm grew tight and he moved to grab your jaw, roughly pushing your head up to meet his eyes. You wish you never did.
“It was just a party!”
His eyes were narrowed, his grin strained and twitching. “Just please, tell me darling , what would you do if you were in my shoes?” He ignored your previous statement as if it didn’t apply in any regard to the very heated conversation you were having, when in fact it was what started everything in the first place.
You felt your eye twitch.
“Leave me the hell alone, that’s what I would do.” You huff, attempting to pull yourself away from him. Your efforts were fruitless, his grip tightening that it actually started to hurt. Any trace of intoxication had been chased away as the promise of adrenaline slowly became a prominent sensation in your person. There was a low chuckle, one that harbored no humor and sounded just as dangerous and unnerving as you’d expect.
“Ah, but you see, we’re already in Hell and I,” he leered down at you, “am about to show you something much worse.” Instead of just teleporting you, he quite literally dragged you up the stairs, you yourself throwing a bunch of slurs at him because just who did he think he was? He was holding your wrist now with a force that threatened to break it as he opened the door, slammed it behind him, and pushed you onto the bed.
You learned early on that there was absolutely no way you could overpower him, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try. The more you kicked at him, the scarier and more rough he was with you; you were completely and utterly pissed. He had no right. He was straddling you, painfully holding you down with his hand as he tied you up with your own costume.
“How many demons touched you?” He easily ripped through it, yanking your hands up to the bedpost and tying it so tightly that you felt your hands almost lose circulation. “How many did you touch?” You didn’t respond, your confidence diminishing with a snap of his fingers as he continued the interrogation. After finishing, he leaned his head down to your face, letting his breath ghost over your lips.
“Was it fun?”
He leaned back off the bed, and with a spin of a finger, what little clothes came off with a blink of an eye, leaving you utterly exposed and vulnerable for him. Your heart hammered in your chest, the blood draining from your face at the very real possibility that this might be the last night you would even spend in this shitshow.
Alastor was rarely pissed off to a point that he actually showed it. So the fact that he was raising his voice at you and putting you into a position that made you feel less than secure , was something that ignited the fight or flight response. Frantically, you searched for some sort of explanation that would appease his sudden temper that you had unknowingly sparked with flint and stone.
“Al, it was just a party! Will you stop? You’re overreacting.” You wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t the scariest fucking creature you ever laid eyes on in that moment. The fact that he kept himself at the foot of the bed, seemingly composed and proper despite the strings in his mind snapping at the seams, freaked you out more.
“Overreacting… You think I am overreacting.” You saw his finger twitch at his side. “That’s interesting, because did you stop and think about how I might possibly feel with you going out to be touched by random strangers, whom I do not know nor trust, with Angel Dust, the porn star, and Cherri Bomb, a demon who’s infamous for leveling parts of the pentagram with her violence. But it was just a party, right?” You were looking at him as if he were insane, and in this case, he very much was.
He looked the part, acted like it, was it.
“Yeah, it was just a party.” You spat back, annoyed.
“And Hell is just a sauna.” He quipped.
“What do you think I did?” You look up at the bounds on your wrist, snapping your gaze away from his for a moment to fruitlessly try to unbind yourself. “You’re acting like a child.” You huff under your breath. Wrong move.
“I don’t care what you did. I CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE MIGHT HAVE DONE TO YOU!” He yelled, causing you to shrink back against the headboard. Your confidence was out the door, leaving a husk of what your boldness; an empty glass of who you truly were.
He had been so incredibly worried that one of your ever reliable friends left your side, so distraught over the possibility of you in that outfit luring demons to attack you, kidnap you, put you in the sex trade. You weren’t SAFE. You watched with wide eyes as he heaved in deep gulps of air, seeing his antlers begin to curl outwards as he grew angrier and increasingly more worried over you.
The only sound in the room was his own ragged, otherworldly breaths, static tickling your skin.
“...but I’m okay.” It’s all you can think of to say in that moment, your voice quiet and lacking the boldness you once had. “ Untie me, and let's talk about this like adults.” You weren’t entirely sure where talking would get you, but it was worth a try, especially with you in such a vulnerable position, considering he could wipe you out of existence if he truly desired to.
“I’m glad you’re okay, darling, really, truly I am.” He rasped out, finally seemingly to find some self-control. His antlers had begun to shrink back into his skull, but you knew you were far from being in the clear at the moment. “But right now, I am not okay. You need to be there for your own protection right now. If you touch me, I don’t know what I’ll do.” You felt your eye twitch.
“My… my own protection. Naked. I am naked, tied up, and you’re telling me it’s for my own ‘protection’?” What were you, some dog? You laughed, but out of sheer shock from his absolute absurd behavior. He was overreacting. “ You should be tied up if you’re acting this way.”
With a snap of his fingers, your hands are untied from your bondage, and you rub your wrists instinctively. He suddenly feels exhausted, and hurt. “Fine then. Go to sleep . I’m done for the night.” He turned away from you and started to head towards the door. You just didn’t get it. There was no way in these nine circles he could explain to you how much you actually meant to him, and just how much that silly argument had hurt him. How much you going to that party without him had stung— how you didn’t even invite him to escort you.
Your mind, still buzzed with the minuscule amounts of alcohol that were still able to run rampant, desperately tried to piece together what the fuck just happened. And then the guilt starts to hit you, ebbing up and clenching your heart uncomfortably. “Alastor-“ you push yourself off of the bed, grabbing a small blanket and wrapping yourself in it, walking after him. He stops in the doorway. Stupidly, you reach out to him, not heeding his warning.
He feels your presence behind him and jerks away from your touch. He doesn’t want your hands on him. You’re not sure what hurt more, the fact that he denied your touch, or his next words: “I said I’m done. I know you’re tired,” he sighs, the static in his voice causing him to sound distant, “just go to sleep, darling.”
But you can’t just go to sleep. The guilt, slow starting, starts eating you alive— you’ve never seen him like this. You bring your arm back to your side, staring at the back of his head with wide eyes. “...I didn’t know it bothered you that much.” Your words trailed off, your voice soft.
“You didn’t know.” He felt static crackle across his skin teasingly, his anger picking back up. Without even turning to look at you, he continues: “How often do I truly ask you to do something and insist on it?” He hummed, “- and you didn’t know? I thought you would pick up on it, but no, you left me with Charlie. I’m glad you had fun, dear, at least one of us did.” That stung.
Swallowing your fear, you grab onto his sleeve, attempting to pull him back into the room. “I can’t go to sleep knowing you’re mad at me.”
“Let go of me. I am more than angry tonight.” You don’t let go.
“Well, if you won’t talk about it, show me.”
Half of you wants to say no, the other half just wants this to be over. You let go, hesitantly. Suddenly, he turns around to face you and you find yourself even further floored to see his eyes are almost watery. He’s really hurt over this. You swallow nervously, taking a step back. He had never let another in his life as he had let you in, for this exact reason. He was just as angry with himself as he was with you. He takes a heavy breath, releasing a shallow sigh.
“Alastor…” you whisper, “I’m sorry.” Not for going to the party, of course not— you had a damn blast, but for not listening to him. That’s what you were sorry for. For making him feel this way. You couldn’t bring yourself to be angry with him, too desperate to patch up the broken pieces that were lying across the floor before they cracked further. Your relationship with him was fragile, but so incredibly important to you.
“I would never impose such rigid rules onto you that would strip you of your freedom, but when I insist on something, do know it’s for a reason. I don’t want this to happen again… to either of us.”
“It won’t.” You looked up at him them, finally feeling safe enough to approach him. “...I’ll even let you dress me up next time, ‘kay?” You fluttered your lashes at home in appeasement. He sighed, bringing two fingers to the bridge of his nose and rubbing it.
“Darling, I would have settled for a coat.” He was just so tired. He hadn’t felt this depth of negative emotion since he had lost his mother— and that had been so long ago. He couldn’t stay angry with you; he would forgive you by the end of the day.
You’re surprised when he reaches a tentative hand out, brushing the back of his fingers across your warm cheeks. You lean into his sudden affection, before his words break the sudden comfort of silence: “Though, I think a just punishment is suitable for your actions.” There it was. You open a single eye to meet his, a small smile on your lips as you place a gentle kiss on his wrist.
“I guess a blanket wouldn’t be allowed for this punishment, huh?” Your voice lowered into a soft whisper, just audible for him to hear. Your cheek is still leaning into the back of his hand, and he lets you.
“I should think not… I’m going to need you naked and begging for release, I’m afraid.”
His lewd words were so strange and exciting and so out of character of him that each time he uttered such it made your heart leap out of your chest. “Worth a try.” You murmur, a small giggle falling from your lips. He waits another moment, savoring it, before picking you up and moving back towards the bed. He unravels your from the cocoon you had made with the blanket, letting it fall.
This time, you don’t fight back as he ties you up. With a snap of his fingers, the electricity in the room goes out, leaving the two of you in a shroud of darkness. This was new. Your attempts of seeing in the dark are in vain, and you rely on your other senses, closing your eyes. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, anticipation nearly killing you. And then there’s a presence above you, you can feel it. A soft breath ghosting over your face, and then there’s hands on you.
Your hands are limp, the ropes holding them together firmly but not tight enough to cause you pain. You feel a soft kiss being placed on your forehead before the kisses begin to trail down your face, hovering above your lips. He doesn’t give you the release of satisfaction of joining his lips with yours, instead just sharing breaths with you, his hair tickling your face.
His hands trail down your neck, teasing touches littering your frame as they dance to your sternum, and finally down to the soft mounds of your chest. His thumb drifted over a single sensitive nipple, causing you to intake a small, sharp breath. It continued circling around it while his other hand drifting down your side, your waist, before moving a single leg to the side. Everything is smooth, and good, and sweet— it begins to dawn on you that this isn’t much of a punishment at all.
“What’s the punishment?” you whisper suspiciously over the ghost of his lips; the atoms bouncing off of each other but never quite touching. You feel his breath across your face with short spurts, forcing you to believe he’s laughing.
“Is it more of a punishment to know, or to leave you wondering when the punishment will be?”
His cryptic riddle causes you to roll your eyes, his hand that had begun to leave a semblance of touch across your sex, pulled away the moment he got close enough for you to think he was going to give into his most primal desires. But he never did touch you, leaving your body aching for his touches, gentle, rough, or otherwise.
And then it dawned on you the moment he pulled his head back when you tried to connect your lips with his.
He was edging you.
“I know what you’re doing,” you grumble unhappily, you can nearly feel his smile expanding.
“Oh?” He hummed, bringing his lips finally to your neck, placing gingerly kisses on your sensitive flesh. You roll your head to the side to allow him more room, closing your eyes to drown in the feeling of his hands on your skin. Your gave a small ‘mhm’ at his response, your throat vibrating against his lips. He chuckled, self-assured.
“Please,” you let out a whisper when you felt his hands trace your thighs.
“Darling, you can do better than that.”
His lips trail from your neck to your chest, peppering kisses and letting his teeth scratch your skin. You wanted to touch him, feel him. You tried to release yourself from your bondage, to no avail. He replaces his finger with his tongue, circling your nipple over and over again, your back arching off of the bed at the sparks that originated from your chest. You whimpered pathetically.
This continued on for quite some time, but each hellish minute felt like an eternity of torture. Eventually your whimpers turned into whispers of begs, each time responding with something different but similar. Telling you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, asking if you wanted more, to watch your language because ‘who knows who could be listening’. It only managed to make you hotter, and by the time you were about to actually yell at him to just fuck you already, you felt a finger rub at your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves.
You nearly cried in relief.
The moment he found a rhythmic pace that had you seeing stars and involuntarily moving your hips against his own, he placed his lips on yours, at long, long last. It wasn’t long until your toes were twitching with the promise of an orgasm on the horizon, and it was perhaps one the quickest ones you had found, considering how much he had been absolutely ruining you with the edging. The moment you were about to reach the feeling, he stopped, running his fingers up your stomach.
He pulled his head away so he could hear the music of your complaints. Sing for the lion and lamb. “No…” you whimpered, hands yanking at the binds that help them together, even as the feeling of the sweet, warm promise of heaven faded further and further away. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard! The loss in your voice so utterly delicious that he immediately craved more. “Alastor, please, please…”
Your cheeks were wet now with frustration, but he held his nerve, dipping two fingers into your entrance and beginning a slow and even pace. The lewd noises of your slick wetness and his hand leading you to pleasure. The next promise of an orgasm was quicker than the first, and again, right when you were about to hear the angels themselves start their hymn, he pulled his fingers out of you.
You were going to scream.
At long last, he released a heavy laugh after milking the reaction out of you two more times. “If you insist,” he mused gently, combining the two motions, one rubbing your special bundle of inflamed nerves and then other going to work on reaching that wonderful spot. The moment you tipped over the waterfall, it was the strongest orgasm you ever experienced raced up your arms, legs, and every part of your body. Your moans were even more delicious than your whimpers, and when you were satisfied, did he unbind your wrists.
Immediately the thoughts of choking the life out of him, lovingly of course, crossed you mind, but you ended up just running your hands through his hair.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know, darling.”
Chapter 7: The Wrong Kind of Danger
Alastor’s home was… intriguing. On the outside, the decor suggested a southern cabin house; fit for a hunter’s getaway deeply rooted in the swamp where as the inside was fifty shades of red and decorated heavily with French rococo-inspired draperies and furniture. The dichotomy was uniquely Alastor, nevertheless surprisingly comfortable. When you had first arrived you were shocked by the amount of cushions that littered everything, from posh window seats to luxurious chaises. The blankets in his linen closet, which was always impeccably organized for easy access, were never in short supply.
While he most certainly put up a fierce front, he definitely loved living in comfort.
It was for this reason alone he did not enjoy sleeping in other places. He preferred sleeping in his home, in his bed. This was a place he knew he was safe from the monstrosities that lurked down the alleyways. No, they wouldn’t dare to cross him on his own territory. There were enchantments and voodoo spells that would decimate any unwelcome visitors. If they somehow got past all that… then the alligators would get them.
You recalled the first time Alastor had brought you into his home and how your nerves had been at an all-time high at finally seeing his personal place of residence. It had been so similar to the rest of Hell in the color scheme, and you weren’t terribly surprised at the style in which he chose to decorate his home. What had been rather surprising, if not a bit unnerving, were the countless taxidermied deer heads he had all over his walls.
They ranged in a plethora of sizes— there was even a slight variation in color. The few things they had in common were the eyes. Hundreds of seemingly still living eyes, all red, and all focused on the new visitor to their home. The sight frightened you a bit at first. It was as if they followed all of your movements, making sure there was no ill intent on their master. Of course he stated it was silly nonsense when you voiced your concerns, laughing and waving his hand as if it were the silliest thing he had ever heard.
When he assured you that all was well, your curious gaze drifted down toward the old box radio that stood proud beneath the heads. On top was a vase filled with old roses, red, and a very old hunting rifle. A strange urge to touch it came over you, your curiosity suddenly knowing no limits. “Is this yours-- was this yours?”
“This is my house. Everything’s mine!” What a silly question, of course it was his. Who else would it belong to? You were such a goofy creature. He was glad he had brought you here to his home.
“I mean,” he was so stubborn with all the details of his life, it was forever frustrating, “Did this belong to you while you were still alive?” You stood on your tippy-toes, leaning over the counter to look at the sleek wooden curvature of the rifle. You could see your reflection in it.
“Why yes indeedy, I was a hunter of all things, humans to animals… of course, only one of those things really got me into trouble.” His chest puffed with pride at the thought. He had been an excellent hunter back in his day, if he could say so himself! From the time he was knee-high to a grasshopper, he knew how to handle a gun. He preferred his bow and arrow, but he was proud that he still had his rifle from his time alive. It filled him with a happy sense of nostalgia, looking at the perfectly shined barrel.
“...Can I hold it?” You moved forward, fingers itching to pick it up. Just as you were about to wrap your hands around the weapon, he stopped you with two patient hands on your wrists.
“My sweet darling, you might hurt yourself, I’d rather you not. It’s heavy.” You were painfully clumsy, and this was an old piece of weaponry that had survived his family for two generations before him, and the travel to Hell. He didn’t want you hurting yourself, or the gun.
The thought of you already being dead crossed your mind, huffing like a child as if he denied you a second cookie. So you waited, innocently, hands behind your back as you batted your eyelashes at him.
“I have some photos you can indulge in, I’ll go fetch them. In the meantime,” He turned to you, his eyes knowing but warning at the same time, “Don’t touch anything.” Oh, you were going to touch it.
It was so close.
You agreed whole-heartedly, a grin shrouding your face and true intentions. You may have not meant to harm, and by God were you an innocent little dove that was too pure for this world, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be mischievous. Your fingertips twitched against your pant leg.
He knew you were going to grab it. He just hoped that you wouldn’t break anything too important… or expensive. He was mostly sure it was just going to be funny, whatever happened to you. He sincerely wished you wouldn’t maim yourself. He nodded in mock satisfaction of your false promises and turned away from you.
You snatched up that gun so fast, you almost felt dizzy with your own movements. Falling back onto your feet from your original positioning of the tips of your toes, you released a giggle. The metal was cold in your hands and very smooth. It had been worn down from years of use and cleaning and in truth, was very heavy. You tilted the rifle a bit, to look at it from a different angle. You hadn’t noticed how slick it was until it fell from your grasp and directly onto your foot.
Your eyes widened in horror as the gun discharged, a bullet tearing through one of the deer heads as you yourself fell onto your butt, the gun loudly clattering to the floor. Your ears were ringing. Oh no. Who left a loaded gun in their house on display!? You should not have been surprised, but still, you were shocked. Mostly at the events that had just occurred, but also from how this could have happened! You knew exactly how it happened. You happened.
With a groan and a hand flying to your head, you pulled yourself back up. The realization soon set in on the extent of the damages the moment you looked at a buck’s head, a dark hole directly between its eyes. The blood drained from your face: this was not good. You scrambled to grab the still smoking gun, placing yourself directly in front of the deer, your instincts kicking in to cover the shame you just caused within yourself. He would be back any moment now, you were certain. Fumbling with the gun, you grunted as you put it behind you, leaning up against the wall to block his view.
This would have to do, you couldn’t think of anything else!
Alastor hummed. The sound of bullet discharging had his brow raise. He heaved out a sigh. You were so very destructive of things around you. Perhaps he shouldn’t have left you alone. With a hat box full of old photographs in one hand and his microphone in the other, he made his way back to the disaster you most assuredly caused while he was absent.
When he stepped back into the room, he could smell the singed fur and the gunpowder. You were innocently standing in front of one of his most prized heads. It was one of his first from when he was younger. His eye twitched, grin straining. He knew what you did and he prepared himself to react.
The moment you saw his reaction, you felt cold. You were in for it.
“Did you manage to occupy yourself while I was gone, my dear?” He stalked closer to you, his coattails swaying behind him. There was no reason he couldn’t have fun with it, besides, he wasn’t going to hurt you.
“Ha, um, yes I did! I didn’t do anything wrong, nope. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You should have stayed silent.
“That’s good to hear, though I didn’t say anything about doing something wrong. Though I did hear a gunshot, would you know anything about that?” He could smell how distraught you were becoming. The strain in his grin was disappearing, replaced by genuine amusement.
You were sweating now.
Immediately, your eyes went to the empty stand, hoping that the gun would disappear from behind your back and magically appear on it. “Nooo…” you let out a low whistle, looking off to the side just as quickly. “That might’ve been someone trying to get into the house, shooting at the gators! They are pretty scary!” That made no sense, but with your mind desperately trying to get him to believe you, it made sense to you. You gave a nervous smile, side-stepping to continue blocking his vision from the gun and the deer.
“Strange… Because, you know, my sweet little darling, I smell gunpowder, inside the house. Now I know you would never lie to me, or try to pull the wool over my eyes, would you?” He came closer, his microphone vanishing as he placed a finger under your chin. At this angle, he could see the bullet hole in the head, and the gun behind your back. He chuckled quietly. You were so ridiculous. So charming in your childish instincts to hide your messes.
Your heart was slamming in your ribcage.
“Me? No, never!” You let him put a finger beneath your chin, your face heating up mainly because you were so incredibly embarrassed. “...I would never.” You whispered, trying to make you yourself believe your incredibly obvious fib.
A single brow rose on his features. “Darling. I can see the gun, did you hurt yourself, or just my defenseless deer head?” His tone was deadpanned, his gaze locked on your nervous face. He didn’t know why you had insisted on breaking the rules he set in place to protect you, but hopefully you would never be put into a position where he wasn’t there to save you.
He caught you.
Part of you wanted to just continue on with the lie to hide the disaster behind you, but the other part of you knew it would be a fruitless attempt. He knew. Your shoulders slumped with a sigh, and you would have hung your head in shame if his finger were still not under your chin, tilting your head up. “I’m okay,” you finally cracked under the pressure, side-stepping to finally show him what happened. It was too heavy to actually pick up the gun by yourself, so you dragged it in front of you having it’s muzzle face him dangerously.
He was finally able to let himself laugh, now that he knew you were unharmed, despite a bit spooked. What a ridiculous creature you were. “Good shot!” Even though he was most assuredly positive that you had done so on accident, it was a great shot, right between the eyes. Even in your mayhem, it was precise . You were controlled chaos, a lovely contrast to his own unhinged being. He felt his chest shake in laughter. Your face was simply marvelous in this moment. You had been so scared! He wouldn’t have invited you here had he any inkling to hurt you, no, this may have been unfortunate, but it would make an amusing story in the future.
He would sacrifice a thousand stuffed heads, if it meant he got to enjoy your company.
Of course, you hadn’t known what his actual thoughts were, nor would you ever unless he explicitly shared them with you, but he never did let that one moment go. Constantly, he would bring it up, over and over again just to elicit a reaction out of you. Annoyance or otherwise.
That had been a few weeks ago. Currently , you were sitting on his bed, sifting through an old album of his. There was dust that had adorned the covers of it when you first found it, but now it was as pristine as every other part of his household. The first image that had greeted you was a black and white faded picture of a young boy, a woman, and a man. At first you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at, or in this case who. Back then, details weren’t necessarily… great.
It only clicked that you were looking at a family portrait of Alastor, his mother, and father, when you stole a glance at him next to you.
Alastor was blissfully asleep, a small smile still playing at his lips despite being in such a deep slumber. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him; and you sincerely hoped he was having happy dreams… whatever that meant for him. Probably bloodshed and domination, the screams of failure, the Stock Market Crash of 1929. The thought made a gentle smile of your own appear on your face.
He looked less manic when he was asleep. All the smile lines on his sculpted features would smooth out, making him look far less sinister than he normally did. How he actually was. He looked so much younger as well. You turned the page, looking at the next photograph: it was a picture of him when he had hunted his first deer; holding the head up by the antlers with a gun next to him. The same deer head you had blown a hole through. You shut the book.
That’s enough for today.
You placed the album next to the bed before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on his head. You didn’t want to disturb him. Your stomach growled with discontent at the fact that you hadn’t eaten since the day prior; strands of red light and swamp mist filtered through the blinds. He lived in a shroud of darkness, on the furthest reaches of the sixth circle of Hell: a swamp. From the outside, it looked like a hunter’s cabin, just more kempt. Fancy. But still being true to the aesthetics of the environment.
Of course, you knew he wouldn’t have anything you could eat, as his diet consisted mostly of a plethora of meats. While he did have a good recipe of different ways to cook for you, it didn’t change the fact that this was still breakfast. You got changed quickly and headed towards the kitchen; just because you didn’t want the meat, didn’t mean your guard dogs didn’t want it.
They weren’t dogs. Alastor hated the furry creatures with a passion.
Taking two slabs of raw meat, you walked out the door and down the creaky wooden stairs to the marshy land just where an abundance of cattails lined the water. Holding the meat below your arms, you brought your fingers to your lips and let out a loud whistle. It was silent at first, the fauna that filled Hell vastly different than what you had been used to on the surface.
Everything was much deadlier here and was most likely trying to kill you. Luckily, most of the flora at least on Alastor’s property was innocuous and safe.
However, George and Gina had the potential to be exceedingly deadly when crossed by the wrong individual.
Two large ten foot long gators happily swam towards you. They recognized the sweet woman who would come and stay with their master, their tails happily swaying back and forth, splashing you involuntarily as their many eyes came closer to greet you. Their jaws snapped, almost like they were trying to chirp at you, only the powerful sound of their jaws being echoed through the densely wooded area; a low hissing that almost resembled a purr escaping them.
“Hello you big goofy things!” The tails, that could and had been used to crush people in the past, wagged happily at the sound of your voice and at the promise of the meat in your hands.
You held out each slab, one in each hand. “Up, up!” They both synchronized in a low jump before clamping their teeth down on the offered goods. You beamed down at the semi-aquatic creatures; becoming very fond of them in a short amount of time. No longer were you threatened by their sometimes beastly attitudes, but endeared by the almost dog-like behavior they would display when they saw either you or Alastor. They inhaled the meat like they had never tasted something so wonderful.
Their eyes, adorning their many scales down their neck and spine, were all trained on you.
You would never tell anyone, but you had on one occasion seen Alastor holding George by the head and cooing at him as if he were a baby ; the alligator in question happily hissing back at him. But that was a secret you were determined to keep. Alastor had a plethora of his own; surely you were allowed to hold that one near and dear to your heart?
“I don’t have anymore, you two!” You showed them your palms, a trick you learned early on lest they follow you around without rest. They chittered to each other, blowing bubbles unhappily before turning back around and sinking into the depths of the murky water. Brushing your hands together, you placed them on your hips with a pleased smile. Now that your first chore of the day was done, you could get going with finding something for yourself to eat.
It had been a while since you had been able to go out and do anything on your own. Alastor normally had his shadow tied to you when he was away or you would carry his microphone with you. For some reason that you did not understand, he thought you would be unsafe roaming Hell on your own. You weren’t sure what he thought you did before you met him, but you knew you would be just fine. Hell wasn’t that bad. Some of the occupants were nice even; not everyone down here was a murderer. Afterall, what landed you down here hadn’t been much of a crime at all.
There was no middle road to purgatory; your chance for redemption had been when you were alive. You supposed it explained the overpopulation in Hell. Even the most ordinary of sins landed you down here. But thankfully for you, it was like Earth in a sense: just without rules.
With a skip in your step and a hope for a mundane adventure, you were off to do some grocery shopping. Hopefully Alastor would be happy with what you got. Perhaps you would even be able to surprise him with breakfast in bed; you weren’t planning to be gone for very long, in fact, you hoped to be back before he even woke up.
The walk into the city was rather pleasant, you weren’t used to such silence anymore. Alastor always had radio static crackling about his person, managing to saturate everything around him. Even the microphone had it’s own static that would curl around it’s surroundings, twisting around the room like plumes of smoke. It was softer, not as potent as his master’s, but still present.
That damn microphone was a pouty little thing too. It wasn’t little, no, in fact it was about as tall as you were, but it somehow managed to throw banter at you endlessly. You were as fond of it as you would be with a sibling, nevertheless wanting to break it in half sometimes but never being able to stay mad at it long enough for that to become a reality. You remembered one occasion where the silly thing wouldn’t stop teasing you, the fond memory still fresh in your mind.
You had been on a similar trip into town, needing to find some new sweatpants. Alastor had the habit of hiding them from you in an attempt to get you to wear what he deemed ‘real clothes’.
“I’m gonna kill him… well not really, but if he keeps hiding my stuff, there is going to be hell to pay!” You were full of idle threats, hands flying in the air as you walked aimlessly. You wouldn’t ever dare to follow through such empty promises; but that didn’t mean your frustration was any less than real.
“Maybe he just wants to see his best girl dolled up once in a while, instead of going out with a dumpster fire.” The microphone could also have a brutal sense of humor. You glared at the eye, clearly unamused.
“I am not a dumpster fire! That’s so mean! You’re so mean!” The microphone rolled his eye in response.
“I’m not the one who needs a wardrobe change, sweetheart.”
“You don’t even wear clothes.”
“But if I did, I wouldn’t be caught dead in such lazy attire.”
“You don’t even have a body!” You leaned in closer to the microphone, narrowing your eyes.
“And you do, so what’s your excuse?” The sassiness this sentient instrument contained was astounding. You wanted to break it.
You huffed out in an annoyed breath, bringing the microphone to your face and your other hand in a flicking motion, a silent threat that you weren’t scared of poking its stupid eye out. “This wouldn’t be a problem, if you just told me where my stuff was! And-” your held up a single finger in a ‘wait’, cutting off whatever snide comment it was about to make before it could even begin. “ -I know you know where he’s hiding my sweatpants, because you know everything.”
“Shows what you know. Bossman burned them!” The microphone ended with a gasp. It wasn’t supposed to tell you that...
“I jest, I jest! He would never. Say look, here’s that place you like!” Oh no, Alastor would not be pleased with his little slip up. This was all your fault. You baited him into confessing!
Did you believe him? Absolutely not.
“Mr. Microphone man, do tell me, am I wasting my time about to go into here?” You stopped in front of the entrance of the store.
“...” It was best he just stayed quiet. Bossman liked it when you were happy, so you would not like his answer.
But you were so damn cute. You called him microphone man. “It would be best if you picked out some skirts and dresses that you liked.” Perhaps he could rectify this situation. Alastor would be pleased if you came back in a more dressy attire.
“Let’s make a deal,” you hummed, knowing very well how bad of an idea that was. “I pick out a dress, you let me get sweatpants. We’re both happy.” You pulled open the door and strolled in.
He decided to not tell you that those pants would too end up missing, but he would agree with you nonetheless.
“Sounds good, dollface.”
That was a win in your book.
Though those pants had somehow disappeared, damn Radio Demon, you still had the dress. With the memory still in your mind and a sated smile on your face, you had made it to the city in record time. There were plenty of demons out and about today. You would never tire of how diverse Hell was. For a place that was supposed to be horrible, it was pretty fun.
You hummed a bit as you made your way to the grocery. Breakfast items were a hit with you, always. Luckily, there was no short supply of food down in Hell, considering well, gluttony was rather popular. You strode through the entrance and grabbed a basket. It felt a bit relaxing to be here without the annoying chatter of the microphone or the looming presence of Al’s shadow.
Sometimes it was nice to just be by yourself.
You were entirely too unaware of your surroundings. You had been spotted the moment you walked into the store. A group of lizard demons, scales heavy and scarred over their bodies, had slitted eyes that were excitedly chattering about you. You were the Radio Demon’s squeeze and they had heard you never left town without something of the man’s in your possession to keep you safe. However at the moment, they spotted no creepy shadow hovering about you, or that weird ass microphone he sometimes leant to you, and best of all: no Radio Demon.
You were alone, with absolutely nothing but a shopping basket in your small hands, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in the other aisle. Of course, there was some method to their madness, some sort of plan in their grand scheme. Their boss would pay a pretty penny if they captured you; it was an irresistable opportunity that had granted itself to them. It was almost too easy.
The weird thing about the grocery store in Hell, was that it looped the same song over and over again just to make sure that people didn’t stay longer than necessary. Because let’s face it, work? In Hell? It was laughable! No one wanted to work. You were, of course, able to tune it out just fine, actually humming the tune and unfortunately getting it stuck in your head as you plucked an apple from the top of the stand. You were mostly done; not here to stay longer than you needed to be.
You were innocent, but you weren’t stupid. The later it got, the more dangers lurked in the shadows.
“Um, hello, miss?” A tentative voice spoke from behind you, causing you to turn around to face a lizard demon. It stood about as tall as you, perhaps a bit taller considering you actually had shoes on and it didn’t. You were reminded of how strikingly similar they looked to your alligators, with the incredibly sharp teeth that were short, but just as deadly. Scales, a tail, and green skin.
You tilted your head to meet their slitted eyes, before you could answer with a ‘hello’, they continued on, looking at something behind you. Just as you were about to turn around, they stuck out their palms and said ‘no’, ‘no’, ‘no’. You were confused, eyebrows knitted together. “Oh-- did you want the apples? Sorry!” You laughed nervously, side-stepping away. You took the chance to look behind you.
You were being paranoid. Shaking your head, you were about to walk right past the demon when they reached out to grab your shoulder, yourself flinching at the foreign texture of their palms. Dry, scratchy, unpleasant. “Um, no, actually, I was wondering if you could tell me where you got those clothes? My girlfriend really likes comfortable attire like that!” They seemed nervous about something, causing you to narrow your eyes before a smile lit up your face. You were in sweatpants.
Take that, Alastor.
“There’s a store right down the street, it’s called Forever 666, run by a really sweet old demon named Ivy, she’s got some great deals!” You chimed happily, over the moon at the fact that you could tell that pompous microphone and his master about how someone complimented your outfit. The demon let go of your shoulder, grinning toothily at you-- feigned innocence.
You should have picked up on the signs.
“I’m actually, um, new. I fell down a few days ago, could you show me?”
“Sure. But I do have these groceries that I have to buy, could you wait a minute?”
The lizard nodded, dousing you in small-talk as you waited in line to pay. You had learned their name was ‘Arron’, in which you returned your own name politely. When they responded with ‘I know’, you peered curiously up at them, in which they stumbled over their words, saying how it was just something people down here talked about sometimes, the famous friend of the Radio Demon who was known for being so nice!
A blush drifted to your cheeks, thanking them for their compliment and how they offered to help you with your bags when you paid for it. It was only two bags, so you didn’t really need help, but they insisted, walking you out of the store. “It’s just down there,” you pointed to a sign that stated the name of the store in bright pink and red lights. They couldn’t miss it if they tried.
The moment you turned out, a sharp pain cracked against your head and your consciousness was ripped from you. You never stood a chance.
Meanwhile, Alastor had just woken up from a lovely dream: you and he had been down in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, feasting on crawfish and king cake. He hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. It had been a fine dream indeed with you adorned in such a fashionable dress! That was how he had realized he had been dreaming. You would never choose something so flashy of your own accord. No, you loved wearing those horrid sweater pants.
He shook his head. It would do him no good to put himself in such a sour mood before he had even seen your adorable face. He threw an arm out, searching for your form. When he found nothing but cold blankets he didn’t immediately panic. There were times you rose before him and snooped through his belongings like the curious darling you were.
He sat up and stretched, cracking his back and a few other select joints with very satisfying sounds. He normally preferred the sound of bones cracking from other sources, but this one would do just fine in a pinch. He spotted an old picture album on his bedside table. How sweet. You were endlessly curious about his time among the mortals. That had been so boring compared to recent times, more evolved and twice as exciting, now was the time to be alive! He paused in his own thoughts. Now was the time to be undead and in Hell ! Oh yes! His first lively grin of the day spread over his features.
He took his time in getting ready, removing his silk pajamas, matching maroon of course. Only the best would do and he never slept in one of his suits. It was blasphemy to do such. He put on his favorite suit, the one he was most known for wearing, red and black, and brushed away his unkempt hair. He summoned his microphone and strode down the stairs, ready to greet you for the day.
“Darling!” he sang out. Silence greeted him in return. He hummed. Perhaps you were outside feeding George and Gina. You were so terribly fond of his alligators. He checked the fridge and confirmed that two large slabs were indeed missing.
He tapped his microphone happily along his floors in a dapper rhythm as he exited his home. The smell of swamp air greeted him. How lovely. George and Gina were happily swimming about doing playful death rolls with one another, but you were not to be found. His eyes narrowed. The bottom of his microphone tapped against the ground, sending his shadow quickly about his home to search for you.
When his shadow reappeared shaking its head in a negative, Alastor felt the first touches of worry drag unpleasantly over his spine. Perhaps you had just bounced over to the hotel for a spell, wanting to catch up with Charlie or that daring Vaggie. Another couple of taps with his microphone sent his shadow away to check.
There was no need to worry, it wasn’t like you could just disappear. He felt his hand twitch into a fist at his side. No one would dare.
His shadow returned once again, slowly shaking its head once more. Dread settled heavily in his stomach. He was going to lose his mind. He had told you many times that you were allowed to take his microphone when you went places, just so nothing would happen to you, and you refused to carry a hellphone. His left eye twitched.
“Search everywhere, come back immediately when you find her.” His shadow left without another word. He tapped his microphone with his finger. “Search the radio waves, listen for her.” He would wait patiently until news came back to him. The eye on his microphone closed, focusing in on the radio waves that filled the nine circles. It wouldn’t take long. He was able to broadcast all through the nine circles, and his shadow was impressively swift. They were both so familiar with your soul and your voice.
Surely it wouldn’t take too long. Hopefully you had just wandered out for a menial errand and you were soon to return. He could not fathom any idiot down here being brave enough to actually try and harm you.
They were all aware of your tie with the demon, they knew you were under his protection. Any threat to you would be taken as a threat to him, and he was never one to respond kindly to such heinous behavior. He couldn’t even focus on the charming behavior of his precious guard gators. Worry was such an annoying emotion, but there it was, deep in his belly.
His microphone’s eye opened and he stared back at the charmed engraving. “She’s in the city, on the opposite side of town. The lizard gang has her in their hideout.” His smile spasmed around the edges, his eyes burning bright. Oh, this would not do at all. Two quick taps and his shadow went to where you were being held captive.
They had kidnapped you. Some foul scaly bastards had put their disgusting appendages on you. He transported himself directly into the place you were being held. Did they really think he wouldn’t find them? That he would just let someone touch who was his? What did he have to do to let them know that you were untouchable!
At the sight of you bound, gagged, and bleeding, he felt something snap inside him. Pure, blind fury had him seeing red, and it was not because of their place of residence. There was a trail of blood falling from your forehead and your eye was quickly bruising over with swelling, turning dark.
You were unconscious.
His hands were almost shaking. Slowly, the ignorant demons realized that the room had started to crackle with static. It filled the space with charged anger and it sent chills over their scaled skin as they began to turn around.
“You have someone of mine, I’ll be taking her back-” he hissed out, turning around, “-but before I do, I’ll be taking out the trash in this filthy establishment.” His antlers were growing, curling dangerously outwards as he grew taller, his smile was beyond manic. He was insane with rage. It was time these idiots learned who was to be feared.
His claws lengthened and as they stood staring at him in shock, he took the opportunity to swipe at one of their necks. Names didn’t matter at this point, bloodshed would do. Blood flowed down their front, spattering onto his suit, darkening the rich fabric. As the lizard started gaping like a fish out of water, he slammed his microphone down through it’s throat and through the back of it’s neck, skewering it alive.
His smile twitched as he turned to the next one. The creature let out a pitiful squeak before turning to flee. Alastor snapped his fingers, locking the doors. There would be no mercy. This was a mistake that he would rectify in a very painful way. He reached out, claws sinking into the next twits abdomen. He had seen in person how painful and long such a death was. He shook him like he was a toy from his youth before forcefully dropping them onto the floor. His neck tilted at how their neck snapped. Shame, he wanted it to be a drawn out death.
He would be more careful with the next demon.
His narrowed eyes fell onto the demons that were now cowering behind your own unconscious body. One of them, stupidly, held a blade to your neck. “Let’s make a deal!” It quaked in its skin. “Let me go-” the other demons smacked the back of it’s head as if to say ‘what about us?’, “-and I’ll let your little dove go.” It pressed the knife further into your skin, as if showing that they were serious.
Alastor’s face remained paused in that horrifying expression. They really were foolish if any of them thought he was going to let them live. The audacity this cretin had, threatening you in front of him. “A deal,” he hummed, as if he we actually considering it. His grin stretched infinitely as the demon put the blade down from your neck, static rolling off of him in waves.
Sincerely believing it was going to walk out of here, it took a few steps towards the Radio Demon, just as he held out his very dangerous hand; green light licking at his palm enticingly. Just as the lizard reached out, his microphone’s eye opened, dousing the room in an intense light.
It incinerated him on the spot.
The stench of burnt flesh and ashes filled the room, blood and other matter adorning the walls and floors of the pathetic establishment. Two more to go. Hopelessness was a lovely scent in the air. Good. They knew that they weren’t going to make it out of here alive, and if they were alive, they were going to be trapped, in a pained existence, where no one would know where to find their miserable remains.
No one would ever dare to touch you again after this. His shadow engulfed one of the demons, encasing him in a thick dark mist that had him screaming . His shadow would rob demons of all sight and senses, leaving them without any ability to feel ever again. When his shadow peeled away, falling away like tendrils of mist, the demon had changed color and had an expression of anguish written on their reptilian features.
One more left.
Alastor moved forward, sitting back on his heckles. He nearly filled the room in his current form, his cloven hooves making clacking noises on the already creaky wooden floor. His head tilted to the side, as if he were wondering about what to do with this trash.
“Please, don’t hurt me, I’m sorry!” Whatever pleading the demon did fell on deaf ears. Pathetic. Alastor reached forward, a single claw spiking itself through the lizard’s jugular. He ripped his hand down, splitting the demon open. Alastor took a deep breath, finally returning to his regular senses, bloodlust satiated. He waved his hand over the stains on his suit, washing them away.
He eyed the bodies and snapped his fingers. Whoever would next come upon this place would find them all outside, impaled. The story would spread soon enough. You were not to be touched, lest someone wanted to be found in an irreparable state. It was Hell after all. The wounds he inflicted would never heal, leaving them deformed for the rest of eternity, as well as leaving them in a perpetual state of pain and suffering. It was only what they deserved after such despicable actions.
He approached your still unconscious body. How could they have done this to such an innocent, beautiful creature? He untied your binds with his own hands, carefully undoing the lazy knots those fools had used on you. He slipped an arm under your knees and placed a steadying one behind your shoulders, cradling your smaller form close to him.
You were safe now.
You awoke slowly, painfully, with a groan. There was a pressure on your eye, something cold and entirely unpleasant. Confusion soon chased away the discomfort, before realization hit you. You were in a bed, one that was familiar and strange because weren’t you just outside the store a moment ago? Sitting up gingerly, you placed a hand on the back of your head, reeling it back with a hiss at the sudden pain that originated from the spot. An ice-pack fell off your face and into your lap.
All at once, all the pain rushed back into your body, soreness and stiffness in all your limbs.
With the one eye that you could still see out of, you scanned the maroon room, recognition easing your mind just enough for you to gain enough confidence that you were home. Whatever had happened was over, but the uncertainty and fear that you had done something, had something happen without knowing, caused tears to run down your cheeks. Your lips tasted salty.
Slowly, you pushed yourself off of the bed, taking the ice pack that was now half-melted and placing it gently on your bruised eye. How long were you out? Everything hurt, but you could still move and that’s all that mattered to you. Even if had been blind, you would have been able to navigate the house with ease. You padded over to the door and let the light stream into the room when you opened it. It was quiet. You could hear a pin drop.
He turned from his book. In it was his new project, but that could wait for the moment. He materialized next to you. You nearly screamed. “You should be in bed, darling. You need rest after such dangerous excursions. That, and we need to have a little talk about your lack of concern when it comes to your own safety.” He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, guiding you back to bed. There was no way he was letting you up until you were completely healed. If that meant he would have to wait on you hand and foot for a month, then so be it.
You felt instantly comforted by his presence alone, your cheeks flushed. “W-what happened?” You whispered softly, allowing him to lead you back to the bed. “...I don’t remember.” It hurt your brain to think about it. Everything hurt. There was a moment of hesitance with getting back on the bed, but you managed with a grunt.
He patiently waited for you to get yourself situated into your most comfortable position before he started tucking blankets around your form. He was tucking you back into bed. He even fluffed a pillow to place behind your head. “I woke up and you were missing. It took a moment for me to find you but when I did, you were incapacitated by no-good-dirty-rotten-scoundrels. They had kidnapped you from wherever you had gone. Don’t worry now though. They are quite well taken care of at the moment.” He thought back to the impaled artwork he had left. Yes, they were well taken care of.
Your eyes were glassy and rounded as you looked up at him. And then it came back to you with what exactly you had been doing, your heart breaking at the fact that Aaron had betrayed you. Or maybe they hadn’t and they were captured too. Oh no. “W-was there a lizard man there?” You wiped your eye, “their name was Arron.” You desperately wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, but there was a feeling that lurked deep in your chest that told you that just wasn’t the case.
Alastor felt his eye twitch. How could he put this delicately so as not to harm your charming sensibilities. Though sometimes it truly was best to just rip the band-aid off. “Darling, those demons were the ones who got your goat, I'm afraid to say.” He didn’t like lying to you… most of the time. But you needed to learn that you simply could not trust everyone you met down here. It had already gotten you hurt, you needed to be aware that the demons down here were not looking to make friends. They were looking to make deals and that meant that they would not hesitate to trick a good person, no matter who they were.
Though that last part was going to change, because this was never happening again.
You frowned, “they were nice,” you hugged your knees up to your chest. “I was… I was going to get something to eat,” you huffed out softly, “but I guess they weren’t that nice, if they did this to me.” The sudden feeling of wanting to touch your eye to prove your point washed over you, but you decided against it. “I’m sorry.”
Alastor let out a tired sigh. You truly were too sweet for your own good. He ever so gently grasped your hand in his own, so painfully aware of how fragile you were in this moment. He had never had to face just how much power you lacked before now, and it was hitting him in a very vulnerable way. “Do not apologize, just be wary in the future of people who are overly friendly down here. Not everyone is Charlie. They don’t want to help you unless they have plans to harm you in the near future. Demons are here to use you, not be your friend.” It was a painful lesson for someone so kind hearted as yourself, but this could not happen again.
“Okay.” It was all you could come up with in that moment, toying with the quilt that covered you. The hand that held yours was exceedingly comforting; the sheer fact that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you made you feel safe. “...Can you come here, please?” You have a gentle tug on his hand, peering up from behind your lashes. You just wanted to be near him.
His smile was so gentle right then. He carefully pulled back a corner of the blankets so he could settle himself up right next to you, lovingly draping an arm around you, even being brazen enough to lace a leg around yours. “This is something I am happy to do for you, darling. Though we must go over a few new rules about your safety.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand come to rest on the curve of your waist.
This man was going to kill you.
“Okay, okay, but wait.” Despite being bruised and battle worn, you couldn’t help but feel excitement over the fact that you remembered the old album on the bedside table. How could you forget! You winced slightly as you grabbed it, a sudden smile engulfing your face. “ Look.” You pushed the album in front of his face. As if you had completely forgotten the reason he was in the bed to begin with, you babbled on with childish glee. “I found it when I was looking through…” you trailed off, realization settling in that you probably shouldn’t continue.
“When you were looking through my things, I am well aware about what you do while I sleep. Anyway, about those rules-”
“-No, I meant cleaning!” You saved your butt because there was no way he could know you were snooping around. You shook your head, and regretted it, you had one helluva headache. Never giving him the moment to contemplate your words, you opened the album with an excitement akin to opening a present. “It’s so old,” you cut yourself off, “not that you’re old, no, never, of course not!” You rambled on, taking the initiative of opening the album.
He remembered when his microphone had called you ditzy. He was reluctant to agree at the moment. “Darling,” he gently pried the album from your hands. “You need to pay attention, this is serious. I simply cannot bare the thought of losing you, this will not happen again and there will be steps taken to ensure that.”
You turned your attention to face him them, falling silent. There was a moment of just listening, processing his words before you moved to press your lips gently to his. He was always so serious. You were safe now, that’s what mattered.
He pulled away from you, gently cupping your cheek. “I mean it, you are not to leave without taking my microphone or alerting my shadow. They won’t let this happen, and they will be sure to watch over you if you insist on going out alone.” He didn’t want to strip you of your freedom. While you could be a bit of an airhead at times, you were not a child. You just needed a bit of extra protection, and he was in the privileged position to give it to you.
“Promise.” You whispered, bringing your hand up and wrapping your pinky around his. Your face lit up in a grin.
A genuine smile broke through at last at such an adorable action. He squeezed his pinky around yours. “Very well then.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. He thought briefly back onto his book that he had been working on. There had to be a way to enchant your own shadow, turn it into something more akin to a weapon and a shield. That way you could truly do whatever you wanted. He would continue to work on it in the future, for now he was content holding you close.
You smiled at the gentle ministration of his lips on your forehead. There was a moment of shared breaths before you leaned your own forehead onto his. It wasn’t such a precious moment though, your other hand reaching over despite your actions to keep him satisfied with your closeness, and snagging the album off of the other side of the bed. Before he could react, you pressed your lips to his own in a quick peck, a grin extending across your face.
“Sometimes I get scared of things I don’t understand, Alastor, and I didn’t understand what had happened earlier,” you didn’t open the album, instead placing it behind you and out of his reach. It was yours now, end of story. You brought your hands to his face so you were cupping his cheeks. “and I don’t understand you.” Your eyes crinkled in impish delight, “one of the things I don’t understand is why you need this monocle.” You breathed out in amusement, before you released a sigh.
“I’m sorry I scared you today.” You could be serious, sometimes.
“You didn’t frighten me. There isn’t much you could do that would scare me actually… but you going missing was worrisome indeed.”
You hummed, picking up on his subtle quirks and making them your own subconsciously. “Are you sure?” You kissed his nose, “because I would be scared of losing you.” Your thumb traced his lips, your chest suddenly heavy with emotion. “I’m not too proud, like someone I know, to admit that.”
“Angel, indeed, is a very prideful creature. I’m sure had he known he would have been mildly concerned.” He had said what he needed to say, and had shown you everything he needed to. Now you were just fishing.
“Not Angel.” You shook your head gingerly, careful of your injuries. “You. You silly, wonderful, strange, difficult to know idiot.”
“I’m not the one that got kidnapped today, I’d watch it if I were you.” He nipped playfully at your fingertips. He was no fool, not when it came to other demons at least.
“Are you sure you didn’t get burglarized?” You moved your free hand that wasn’t holding his to move to his chest, “because I’m pretty sure I stole your heart.”
“I have many hearts, which one did you take?” He grinned down at you. He didn’t know you had been in his shed.
You glared up at him playfully, “why don’t you go check?” You tilted your head, knocking on his chest just above where his heart would be: “Hellooo? Anyone home?”
“You silly woman, I keep my spare hearts out back. The one I need is right where it belongs!” He put a hand over your own, pushing your hand harder onto his chest. His heart belonged under your palm, but he wasn’t about to tell you that.
His microphone already gave him enough flack.
“Shame,” you sighed, looking up at him with pure adoration. “Because I was hoping to have stolen this one. Yours.”
“You can’t steal something that already belongs to you. How foolish.” Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad to let you know… just a bit.
Your stomach did flips. Leaning up, you peppered his face his gentle kisses, “it’s funny how you react to my words,” You grin, trailing your lips to his jaw, and then finally to his lips. “-to my touches.” No, you weren’t going to go far, you were too injured, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him verbally over it. “Do you know how I feel about you, Alastor?” You hummed softly.
“You’re an easy one to read, sweetheart. You wear your emotions directly on your face at all times, it’s why you never beat Husker at poker.” The laugh track sounded quietly around you both.
You laughed at his quirkiness, “tell me then.” You pause. “If you can read me so well, what is it you see?”
“Are we playing eye-spy now?”
“I see something red.” You were going to regret this.
“So it’s going to be a long, long, game! I spy something small!”
You huff, “your monocle! Of course you can see it.” You reach under his eye and poke at the piece of glass. You wondered briefly how it just floated there.
“Nope! Guess again!”
You were sure you had it.
Looking around, you brought a finger to your chin. “Where is it? Like, is it on me or-“ literally everything was red.
“How’s about you get some rest, while I go make you some something to eat. As I recall, you still haven’t eaten.”
“No,” you whip your head back around. Wrong thing to do. The room spun around you.
“I suppose I could ask Charlie to bring us something. She is rather fond of you.” His shadow dashed out of the room. It was the perfect distraction. You should be resting. Your face was still partially swelling. He wasn’t sure how you didn’t notice one of your eyes closing from it.
Your face heated up in a bashful blush. “She’s nice.” You whisper, before narrowing your single eye. “Right?” Balling your fist up in his shirt, you push yourself up, gasping at the realization of the fact that he was distracting you from not having to answer the question.
“Ohh, you’re good.” You grumble.
“Darling, I’m terrible! But yes, Charlie is nice, you can trust her.” He was being condescending now. The bastard. He pat you on the head teasingly.
You knew how to get him to shut up. “Alastor,” you winced as he pat you on the head, taking your hand out of his and turning around so you hugged his torso, resting your head on his chest. “I am hopelessly addicted to you. Everything you are, everything you will ever be. I don’t care about your powers, I don’t care about how you’re absolutely insane,” you sneak a peek at him, winking.
He is not having it. “No need to butter me up, doll, I know.”
“You’re living with me. You let me play my reindeer games, and you love George and Gina. Darling, do you think me stupid?”
“Sometimes, yes.” You laugh in his face.
“HA! Charming! You should hear what my microphone has to say about you.” He tapped your nose.
You released a sigh, closing your eyes. “I love you.”
“And the microphone loves you too. I’m sure! Despite the things he sometimes broadcasts!”
“Not the microphone. Just.” You pull him down by the collar, attempting to get him to lay down. “Be quiet.”
You were lucky you were injured, normally he wouldn’t let you man handle him so, but he supposed, as he looked at your eyes closing, and you curled closer to him, perhaps this once, it would be alright.
Chapter 8: Whoopsy Daisy
You wake up and realize your darling is no where to be found. This wouldn't normally concern you, but because his microphone isn't with him, well, needless to say, your day is already ruined.
So, Cumbersmaug here. I had the idea of reader coming in to save Alastor after the last one, and this was born, it's like... ummm, super long, but there was just so much fun had. This one explores more of the readers relationship with other characters in Hazbin, so... HERE YA GO.
When you were in his presence, in his carefully decorated home, you always slept like a rock. He would never tell you, but you snored. Loudly. Most of the time, it sounded like a cat’s purr and your lips would barely part as the sound rumbled through you. It was a very precious sight, if he said so himself.
He sat behind you, a small smile on his face as he looked on your angelic features. It was very strange how such a loud sound could emanate from such a small form. He twirled a strand of your hair around his finger before tucking it carefully behind your ear. The sight of you curled up under his blankets and you clutching a fluffy pillow to your chest would be the vision he kept in his mind for the remainder of the day, or at least until he saw you next.
He let out a small sigh, trying to keep quiet, just in case something were to get through the rumble of sound you were making in your rest. He brushed the back of his fingers against your smooth cheek, placing his microphone next to you in bed.
It was sure to be an interesting day.
You woke up to see a giant, singular eye staring directly back at you. Now, your first instinct was to scream and kick the instrument away from you, and quite literally, you did just that. Your heart was slamming in your ribcage, your breath ragged as you sat against the headboard of the bed, hugging your knees to your chest. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to Alastor’s shenanigans by this point, no, you were well accustomed to his quirkiness that made you have an aortic aneurysm on the daily, but you hadn’t been expecting to be woken up by a singular eyeball.
“wHAT THE FUCK! ”
The moment you recognized the microphone in the bed, you let your head fall back against the bed with a thud.
“That’s no way to greet me, you jerk.” The eye narrowed. You didn’t have to kick him, it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him before. Jeez.
You groaned, rubbing your eyes to be rid of the sleepiness that still resided in the depths of your body. Your adrenaline had done a great job at chasing away the majority of it; nonetheless, you let your hand slide down your face before you leaned over the side of the bed and picked up the microphone. “I could’ve just left you there, you know.” You were pretty grumpy when you woke up.
“I would have liked that much better, than being kicked in the face .”
“You don’t-” You squinted, shaking your head, “ have a face.”
“And you have no common sense, way to point it out, dollface.”
Oh, he was there just to spite you. “You’re the jerk here.” You muttered.
“Hey now, you kicked me. I was just laying there, for someone who’s supposed to be nice, you didn’t even apologize. Rude .”
“I’m sorry! ”
“Tell it to someone who cares toots! You just ruined my day!” He could not get you to notice what was really happening. A pissed off you he could deal with, but he did not want to see you worried… or crying. It would make today so difficult.
He was insufferable. “If I break you in half, can you heal yourself?” You batted your eyelashes at him innocently. If you would have known you would have such a relationship with a sentient microphone, you would have laughed. But here you were, throwing banter back and forth like children.
“I can lock you inside me… wanna visit the spa ?” He would never do something so heinous to you. Despite his childish behavior, he was rather fond of you… but you did not ever need to find that out.
“Is that a threat, Microphone Man?” You gasped, moving to get up from the bed, letting your feet touch the cold floor with a grimace. Stretching, you lifted your hands above your head and let the microphone hit against the ceiling, hard.
He started grumbling to himself. This is what he got for being a loyal instrument of destruction? Beat up on the ceiling by some airheaded dame? “You’re a pain, sweetheart.”
“Actually, you’re in pain.” A giggle fell from your lips as you brought the microphone back down in front of your face, an impish smile adorning your expression.
“You’re not even funny.” He had no idea how bossman even put up with you for so long. Your jokes were worse than Alastor’s. Neither of you had any taste.
“At least I’m funny enough to keep around—,” you cut yourself off, looking at the touseled blankets that didn’t cocoon said individual. “Is he downstairs?” You supposed you would find out either way.
“Check for yourself, ya lazy bum.” He could not help you much today at all, you were going to have to do this yourself. It was Bossman’s orders. While the microphone was very fond of you, he would not go against his master’s orders.
“I’m not lazy,” you huffed, walking over to the bedroom door and swinging it open. The red light of the morning streamed in gently, but bright enough for you to squint for a moment as your eyes adjusted. Slowly, you descended the stairs, the settling of the house masking the unordinary silence.
Even the microphone was keeping his static at a low frequency.
“Alastor?” you called gently, and once you were met without a response, you hummed. Alastor normally left you a note or something if he was going out on a ‘business call’. It was probably on the fridge or something.
You bounced down the stairs, if he wasn’t here that at least gave you time to snoop. That was always a good time, he had so much fun stuff that you could root through! The kitchen was quiet when you entered it, your eyes flickering to the fridge. There was no paper in sight. You glanced at the countertops, still nothing. You narrowed your gaze at the microphone in your hand.
“Hey, do you know where he is?” Worry started to swarm around your gut. He had never not told you where he was going before, and normally there was some sort of message or something to alert you not to worry. This was very out of character for him to just leave you.
“Who, be specific.” There was no question in his voice. It was simply a statement.
“ Bossman .” You quoted how he normally referred to Alastor— there was no way he could find a plot hole in that. There was only ever one individual he would truly listen to. You had a hard time making the stubborn microphone listen to you at times, despite it being commanded to.
“... You know, despite what you think, he doesn’t tell me everything .” He couldn’t do it. He would not disobey his master, not for you, not for anyone. You would not break him. He would not confess anything to you.
“But you know everything, don’t you?”
“I’m a microphone , not an encyclopedia .”
You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew something. You were certain. The reason being was the sheer fact that the instrument would never let a compliment go to waste; he would boast and boast. But now— he simply gave you a wisecrack response. “You sure?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah lady, I’m definitely a microphone.” You were so dense sometimes. Maybe if he just kept you pissed off, everything would be fine. Who was he kidding, you were gonna go apeshit .
Your fingers twitched against the pole. “You have a connection to him.” You frowned, walking to the fridge and grabbing an apple. Just because you were starting to feel worried, didn’t mean you weren’t hungry. “Why are you being so difficult?”
“Why can’t you just accept that I don’t know where he is? He’s got stuff to do maybe, OOH , or maybe he fell into a coma? Or how about, he’s roamed up to the surface to get his mama’s old etouffee recipe, maybe he got caught in a landslide. I DON’T KNOW! All I know is, I’m here, and so are you.” Maybe you’d take that for an answer finally and get off his back. He did share that in common with his master, though. He didn’t like lying to you.
But you were too stubborn for your own good.
“The shadow-- how do I summon it?” That could find him, you were certain of it.
“Geez, woman, I don’t got all the answers, I know he’s got some books, why don’t you look at some of those. They have his voodoo hoodoo stuff in there.” That would lead you closer to the truth at least. And that would get you off his back. A win win if he ever heard one.
Your eye twitched. “I don’t have powers like he does, though.” A sigh, your shoulders slumping.
If he had hands, he would have hit you. “Do you think those damn mortals have powers when they summon demons to make deals with ‘em? NO, THEY DO THE REQUIRED READING, YOU IDIOT!”
“ WHY ARE YOU YELLING! ” You know what, you were going to leave him here if he continued.
“Because, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly talk all the time. It’s exhausting arguing with someone who doesn’t listen, I’m sure you know the feeling .” If you would just read the book, or at least glance at it you would have Alastor’s notes on how to summon his shadow, and then you could help get the bossman out his stupid jam.
Oh yes you did.
With a grumble under your breath, you placed the apple down on the counter, turning around and walking back into the living room. If there was one thing you never sifted through, it was his books on his powers. Despite not being off-limits, it made you uneasy at the thought of possessing something you knew nothing of. Funny enough, you were doing just that by holding this stupid microphone.
All of his books on less known subjects were old. The covers were all worn and tattered from how much they had been used over the years. The old book smell was rather pleasant though, despite how wary you were over looking at them. You ran your finger nervously over a shelf, tracing the spines. Microphone man had said to look at Alastor’s notes, but on which book? There were about a dozen here on this shelf alone. You knew there were hundreds of books in this house; you only hoped that they all weren’t on dark subjects, because if that were the case, you’d be here for the rest of your life trying to search for the right one.
That thought had you stop in your tracks. What if Alastor was in trouble? What if Alastor needed you? You simply could not stand the thought of being here without him. Maybe that’s why his microphone was left here in the first place, to help you find him. Your eyes glanced over the books again, paying attention to the titles that were barely legible anymore. Demonology, How to Conquer, How to Conjure, How to Summon, Summoning for Dummies… that one might help you. You plucked it off the shelf with your thumb and forefinger, flipping it open to the index.
Shadow Creatures were in Chapter Three. When you saw his cursive, it had you smile, even though it was illegible at times, reminding you of a doctor’s handwriting; Alastor was always there for you in someway, always lurking from the corners of dark spaces just to make sure you were alright.
“Do we have lambs blood?” This was going to be disgusting. You felt nauseated. These ingredients were nasty, it even called for chicken’s feet. You had to draw some strange symbol with chicken’s feet in a gross mixture of lamb’s blood and powdered kidney. Where the hell would you get a powdered kidney? The thought of the shed immediately came to mind, hovering over your head like a lightbulb.
You were sure that if the microphone had shoulders, he would have shrugged them at you. He was no help . Not only that, but because he wasn’t even remotely worried had you beginning to confirm that there was something fishy going on. You weren’t sure what pissed you off more; the fact that Alastor didn’t even leave you a letter, or the fact that Microphone Man refused to utter another word, even as you whisked him off of the wall he was leaned upon.
Whatever, you would do this, with or without that stubborn stick . Tucking the book under your arm, you strode outside. If you had to find him by yourself, you would. You could do this!
The shed loomed outside and you felt your bravado fading as fast as it had came on. Maybe you should just feed George and Gina first. Having hungry guard gators wouldn’t do anyone any favors. You cowered back inside to grab some meat for them. Procrastination at its finest.
This feeling of fear was foreign and unwelcome. You hadn’t been scared of much since you met Alastor, because there hadn’t been a need for it, but now that he was missing … The book slipped from under your arm as you held the raw meat in your hands, the microphone clattering to the floor with an annoyed sigh.
“You know, you don’t have to do anything. For all we know, bossman’s fine and dandy.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Then do what you gotta do, I guess.” You wanted to hit it, kick it into the wall, and never talk to it again. So much for loyalty.
“I’m going to feed George and Gina, and then we’re both going to Al’s creepy shed.”
“Whatever you say, doll.” He knew you had it in you. You could do this, you could let Alastor know by your actions today just how far you were willing to go for him. They both knew you were capable of so much more than what you actually did. Despite your endearing nature, you were still a demon. You could harness so much power should you choose to do so.
“I do say!” You stomped off angrily. You would do this just to spite that damn stick . The marsh lands were just as wet and swampy as usual; the tell-tale signs of tail wags could be heard by you even from here. The water splashed happily as they saw you coming, holding out two large slabs of meat just for them.
“Hey guys, I got your breakfast!” Their uncountable amount of eyes were all focused on you and the raw meat in your hands. “Up, up!” You didn’t think you would ever tire of how well behaved they were. They pushed their strong bodies up from the water with such power. They were terribly messy eaters of course, but that was to be expected when you were dealing with two apex predators. You flashed them your hands, “I’m all out now, so you guys go have fun!”
If you had truly thought that through, you would have drawn that out for as long as you possibly could. Now the looming dread of finding your dapper demon was dangling before you. It was time to get even messier. Your hands were going to touch things that they never had before. You hoped you could shower before this was all over. Walking back up the stairs, you entered the house with a sigh.
There was a moment of hesitation before you actually strolled back into the kitchen. The thought of dealing with something you didn’t understand made anxiety crawl up your spine; but you would do it if it meant he would be safe. You were confused, truthfully, because if he had been in trouble-- wouldn’t he have just summoned his microphone back in his grip? Why did he leave it with you?
Said metal pole was still lying on the floor of the kitchen, the singular eye staring at the ceiling as if it truly were contemplating its existence in that moment. You nearly laughed. “What would you do without me?” You leaned down and picked up the book and microphone, a gentle smile on your lips. Despite it being oppressive and overwhelming, you would never actually hurt it.
You weren’t entirely sure if you could even hurt it if you tried. It was a love-hate relationship.
“I wouldn’t be on the floor, that’s for damn sure.” Alastor never treated him like this. You truly didn’t understand what depths you were about to wade into, but he would try his damndest to make sure you stayed safe. That was one of the main reasons Alastor had left him behind in the first place.
“You’re so surly.” You held him in the crook of your elbow like you had seen Alastor do on occasion so many times before. Your fingers grasped the summoning book, bring it close to your chest. In some strange way, Alastor himself would help bring you both back together. “Are you ready to go into the shed?” The small building had fear prickling up your limbs.
“Ain’t like I’ve never been in there before, you know.” He didn’t have to be so rude. You rolled your eyes. If Microphone Man could do it, then you could too.
You tried to focus on the task at hand. It wasn’t like you were blind to the monstrosities and devastation your precious demon boy got up to in his spare time, but to be subjected to actually having to see where he stored his… ill-gotten-gains , as it were, had you apprehensive. You weren’t exactly a demon who took joy in causing people harm. You didn’t even like the sight of your own blood, and now you knew you were going to need to draw a … thingy , to summon your protector’s shadow. You didn’t even know what they were called! Rune circle? An alchemy… something.
You truly were out of your depth.
The moment you opened the door to the shed, you were greeted by a disgusting scent. You nearly gagged, holding your arm to your nose and mouth to ensure that you didn’t have to smell more than you had to. There were shelves galore, stacked with jars that encased different limbs, bones, anything your heart could fear was there.
You never realized Alastor was so well stocked.
There was a desk at the far end of the shed, several glass cylinders and test tubes set up and meticulously cleaned. The only thing in here that seemed to be clean was that desk. You rushed over to it. This whole shed was gross. You wanted out.
“You’re so lucky you don’t have a nose.”
The eye rolled itself at you. It wasn’t that bad, he was sure. You flopped the book onto the desk, keeping your other arm up to continue fighting off the smell. Chapter three, here we go. Lambs blood, chicken feet, powdered kidney, and a dash of… You took a deep breath, just so you could keep your sanity.
A dash of your neighbor’s sugar .
You were going to rip your hair out; you were positive Alastor didn’t even have neighbors! The only person you could think of that would even lend you anything was Charlie. Your eyes slowly travelled from the book before you only to wind up stuck on a spot directly in front of you. Charlie was a demon. Charlie had lived in Hell her entire life.
Charlie could help you!
How could you be so stupid! You should have asked her to help you from the beginning, she loved helping out! You weren’t exactly sure about the lesson plans down here in Hell but you were almost positive that she knew how to do all this stuff! Lucifer was her father after all, he had to be knowledgeable about all this voodoo stuff!
You looked around you, lowering your arm. There was a shelf filled with jars, that looked like it was different types of blood, you hoped they were because you didn’t want to know what else it could be. A quick look revealed that it was not blood. You didn’t wander over there. Placing a finger to your chin in focus, you drifted through the shed. You plucked the kidney powder off the shelf, and grabbed a few chicken feet. You were almost successful in not gagging when you touched them.
It would seem Alastor went through lambs blood often, because it was in a water cooler. Your wide eyes blinked up at it. Why did it have to be so big? You grabbed an empty jar and filled it up. You would pack all this up and take it to the Hotel.
“We’re going on a field trip, Microphone Man.” You just knew Charlie could help you out, and if she couldn’t, she would at least support you with your efforts.
“Oh goody .” Regardless of the sarcasm laden in his voice, he was very proud of you.
“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” Perhaps you’d be able to catch a taxi. You didn’t want to risk dropping anything, and you did recognize that you had a tendency to be a bit… clumsy . That, and it would be faster. You weren’t sure where Alastor was, or if he even needed your help, but you did not have it in you to stand by and do nothing when he just might need you. You refused to let him go.
You gathered up all the ingredients and carefully made your way back into the house. You knew he had a bag in here somewhere. The bag you often used to do your grocery shopping was staring at you so happily. It would have to do. You had places to be. Sweeping all the dark creepy stuff into your sunflower tote, the book going in after, you were ready to head down the Hazbin Hotel.
“...You wouldn’t be able to call me a taxi would you?”
“That, I can do.” You adored it when a plan came together.
Due to Microphone Man being more recognizable than you, he was able to do things that you didn’t really think possible . But time and time again you had been proven wrong. Through radio waves, he was able to somehow order you a taxi. It was rather convenient in times like these when you didn’t think you were capable of much more than silence.
You were lost in so much thought; it had been a long while since you had been rendered still by such anxiety. You had almost missed the sound of the honking coming from outside.
You held the microphone tight in your grasp while you slung the bag over your shoulder. Rushing through the swampy terrain was an easy task, but there was a need in your veins to find someone who seemed to be lost to you. If you had to get your feet wet, so be it. You practically vaulted into the backseat of the taxi, the driver very annoyed that they had to come so far for not the Radio Demon.
“The Hazbin Hotel, please.” Even though you were filled with worry, you could still be polite. The driver on the other hand groaned, that was six circles away .
You couldn’t be bothered by their attitude though, terrible thoughts were stuck on loop in your mind. Alastor hurt, trapped, maimed, brutally attacked, a maelstrom of horror keeping you from making any polite conversation. The palm of your hand met your forehead; thoughts like these were not going to keep you grounded. Wherever he was, he was probably fine . You were most likely overreacting. Alastor had depths of power you could never fathom, the only people that could actually hurt him down here would never… you hoped.
Positivity was not your strong suit at the moment.
Luckily, with all your thoughts stuck on doom and harrowing possibilities, the drive had seemed rather short. The Hotel looked happily down on you. Charlie just had to know what to do. During the ride, the weather turned for the worse, ambience of the rain landing against the ground as a constant. You hesitated before getting out of the taxi, looking over to your company.
“You won’t short circuit, right?”
“You think I’m some kind of hack, lady?”
“Despite being a microphone, you never did tell me what you are.” You huffed, a frown pulling at your lips.
“We ain’t got the time, sweetheart. It’s a long story, I say we get goin’.”
And that you did. For some reason or another, there was no need to tip the taxi driver, supposing that the microphone had some way to tap into the electrical currents and pay the fee or something. You would lose a brain cell if you thought about it too hard. Pushing open the door, you stepped out into the rain, nevertheless holding the microphone underneath your sweater just in case.
You didn’t want to damage him, even if he claimed stubbornly that he would be fine. You didn’t want to find out.
Anxiety crept up your spine, the looming Hotel forcing you to return to your worries and woes as you walked up the driveway and up the stairs. The moment you got underneath the awning of the patio, you pulled the microphone from the shelter of the fabric. Not even offering it a glance, you laid your palms on the mahogany and, pushing against it, entered the facility. The first individual that caught your eye was the effeminate spider that you knew as Angel Dust. He turned to you.
“Wow, ya look like shit.”
“Ya know it, toots.”
You stepped in, narrowing your eyes, the smallest of frowns adorning your lips.
“Do you know where Charlie is, I could really use her help right now…” You didn’t want to tell Angel the whole story without Charlie or Vaggie around. Vaggie didn’t exactly approve of your relations with the Radio Demon, but nevertheless just told you to be smart around him. Angel, however, wasn’t really the nicest demon you knew-- either of those two would be better company.
“How should I know? I don’t keep tabs on her.” Angel rolled his eyes. T hose bitches could be so needy and annoying.
Your fingers flexed around the microphone. “Can you call her down or something,” your eyes were locked on the charmed engraved eye of the instrument.
“Can do!” Angel’s eyes widened, gasping.
“It listens to ya!” You had never seen the spider demon move so quickly. His many hands started wrapping around the thin pole, trying to tug it from your grasp.
“Hey! Let go!” You barely understood how it worked, you did not need Angel to try and mess around with it, just because he was bored .
“No way, I’ve been wantin’ to get my hands on this thing foreva’ , and strawberry daddy ain’t nowhere to be seen, you let go !” You would rather have died in that moment than let that microphone go. Your grip tightened, knuckles turning white under the strain of your grasp.
“ Angel! Leave her alone, you’re supposed to be manning the reception desk, not harassing the people that come in!” Charlie sounded exasperated. It was a bit of a challenge to manage such unruly individuals, but for some reason she had been born with the patience of a saint. She rushed down the stairs to greet you, happily calling out your name when she realized it was you standing in the forya.
“What, I was just trying to… unburden ‘er load !” He snickered to himself at the last part.
“I can manage just fine.” You ripped the microphone away from him as hard as you could, successfully bringing the instrument closer to your chest. “Charlie, I’m so happy to see you.” Your focus turned to the charming demon belle herself. She happily wrapped you in her arms, even though you were wet.
“Alright, alright, you’re chokin’ me here, get off!!” You and Charlie separated at the grumpy voice of Microphone Man. “Geez, get a room, you two.” You both were two of a kind. Hugs were suffocating!
Charlie seemed to be confused as to why you were carrying Alastor’s microphone, eyeing the contraption with an inquisitive nature. She was aware that there had been something between the two of you, but she hadn’t been aware that it had gotten to a point where he let you carry his most prized possession around. There had to be a reason you were here. The moment she looked up and caught your uncertain and emotional expression, she knew it wasn’t for a very good reason.
Charlie shooed Angel Dust away and led you to the hallway of the establishment. By the time the two of you were alone, you let out a heavy breath and lost it. “I don’t know where he is.” The words came out quick, barely a breath passed between them. “The microphone doesn’t either, or he won’t tell me. I don’t know! I just-- Charlie, I know he can fend for himself, but I have a feeling that something’s wrong. ” A flurry of words fell from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest.
Charlie knew something had been making you upset, and she knew why now. She placed a comforting hand on your back. “Hey, it’ll be alright, let’s go ahead and head to my room. We can sort this out, okay?”
You looked up at her with hope sparkling in your eyes. You just knew you could put your faith in Charlie. “Okay.” She kept leading you down the hallway, her hand a warm presence on your back, keeping you grounded in the present.
You both entered an open door, leading to a sweetly decorated master suite. She sat you down next to the fireplace that was already lit, the flames already putting you a bit more at ease. Warmth welcomed you, allowing you to finally relax your grip on the microphone, leaning it on your leg while you sat your sunflower bag onto the floor.
You hesitantly pulled out the book you had been harboring. Charlie had to know what to do. If not… you wouldn’t think about it. “I have this book and most of the ingredients for a spell to summon Al’s shadow, but I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m really scared, and I can’t lose him, Charlie!” You rambled, bringing the book up to your face to cover up the mist that was beginning to gather in your eyes. Losing him would be like losing a piece of yourself, you would not be able to find happiness like you could now… like you could with him.
Charlie didn’t know you both had gotten that close. It was exceedingly clear to her that you loved him. It was good that Vaggie had gone out into the city, or she would have lost her mind at that realization. She sat down next to you, once more placing a comforting arm around you. “Hey, I told you it was going to be okay, I know plenty of stuff that’ll help us find him! Did you say you got most of the ingredients?”
You sniffled pathetically, pulling away from the book with a nod. “I just need some sugar.” Charlie blinked.
“Oh, you’re doing that one, okay, I’ll be right back, just go ahead and pull out the blood, chicken feet, and kidney powder!” Never had you thought such a sentence could be uttered so cheerfully. It seemed you were in good hands now. Placing the ingredients by your feet, you gently leaned back into the cushioning behind you.
“You calmed down now, doll?” It kind of worried him whenever you cried. It was such a sad sound, he knew Bossman would not have been happy had he known.
A heavy sigh left your nose. “Getting there.” The microphone didn’t respond, but you placed a hand just under the eye. “Do you think he’s okay?” Despite the microphone probably not knowing certainly, he had to have some sort of connection to Alastor. He was his, afterall.
“...I don’t know, sweetheart. Wish I did.” This much was true, he had no idea how his master was doing. He assumed he was fine, but he never really knew in moments like these, his connection with the demon had dulled this morning. He really wasn’t sure how Alastor was.
“I’ve got the sugar!” Charlie was carrying a mess of candles, bowls, and a bag of sugar. “This one is super easy, so it’ll be a piece of cake!” You gave a weak smile, the worry still plaguing your mind and causing a pressure to sit uncomfortably in your chest. Going to her knees, she grabbed the ingredients without a single reaction, despite your own nose turning up at the stench that shrouded the room. She had probably done this before.
She popped open the jar of blood and sprinkled in the sugar, mixing it up with one of the feet. You felt your stomach churn at the sight. “Powdered kidney.” She held out her hand, leaving you to scramble for the little jar. You opened it with shaky hands, placing it into her waiting one. She hummed a bit as she started dusting a good amount of the grey powder into the blood mixture.
She was using that foot like it was whisk.
“Alright, that should do it.” Charlie mumbled it, as it was mostly a note to herself. She stood up and turned, kicking the area rug out of the way. “This stuff is pretty gnarly to work out of carpets, so this can just move over for a minute!” You smiled at her. It was very fortunate for you to have such a kind and understanding woman in your life. You didn’t think you would be even a bit calm if it wasn’t for her right now.
Charlie bent over and started painting a large circle onto the floor. The sound of the nails and the skin squeegeeing across the hard wood was unpleasant, but you were willing to bear it. You were leaning forwards, wholly focused on her movements as she started drawing some strange symbols inside the circle. It was kind of pretty in a way, like a mandala or something. Perhaps just a very dark and spooky mandala.
Charlie tapped off the remaining blood mixture into the jar she was holding. “If you just put the microphone in the center, Al’s shadow should come.” There was simply nothing to it. They would find your Radio Demon soon enough.
You nodded, staying silent in your movements. You did not want to mess up this diagram. It looked very complicated and though Charlie was able to do it pretty quickly, you wanted this to be over as soon as possible. You tiptoed over, gently placing the microphone in the center.
When you did, the microphone stood up by itself, that charmed eye glowed a bright yellow, nearly blinding you and Charlie in the process.
Alastor’s shadow curled away from him, a strange sounding cry leaving the misty figure’s mouth as it tore away from him. Alastor let out a sigh as a not so playful blast barrelled towards him. He scooted to the side as it blew down a large brick wall. He had been using his shadow, but at least you were up and about. It shouldn’t be too long until you got here.
A deeply amused chuckle met his ears. “Oh Alastor, what ever will you do now?” Lucifer twirled his cane in his fingers. He could see the strain in the demon’s smile. It was always pleasing to see such a refined demon start to loosen around the edges .
“I’ll still be the winner of this bet at the end of the day, don’t you worry, Lucifer. She’s on her way right now.”
“Whatever you say!” the sing-song words left his mouth with a great grin. He sent another shockwave towards the deer demon, delighted to see it hit head on.
His shadow zoomed over to the hotel, so happy to not be under such stress anymore. When he saw your form he headed right to it. The misty form curled around your arm with a quiet exhaustion. Charlie stepped over the summoning circle to grab the microphone.
You were frozen, eyes glued to the uncharacteristically tired shadow that was pulsating on your arm.
“Alright doll, I can get a read on Bossman now.” With the shadow so close, he was able to strengthen his signal to his master. He could lead you to him now.
The sound of Microphone Man brought you back to the present. “Can you take me to him?” You needed to find him. Charlie’s eyes snapped onto you.
“Yeah, we can get goin’ if you want.” Charlie slapped a hand onto your shoulder as you took the microphone from her.
“I’ll come along, just in case. I don’t want you to run into something without having back up.” Charlie adored you. You were one of the sweetest demons she had ever met. There was a kindness and innocence that still clung to you even down here. She wasn’t exactly positive that you should be running into potentially dangerous situations by yourself though.
You looked up at the tall woman. There wasn’t a better friend you could have right at that moment. “Thank you, Charlie, I appreciate it.”
“Come on, we’ll take the car.” She ushered you out of her room. When you both were outside, her family limousine was waiting for you both.
“Don’t you think this is a little much?” You didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention.
“This should scare whoever might have him.” She was loathe to say it, but everyone down here knew the royal family’s vehicle. While Charlie chose to be kind, she had in her an unbelievable power, and she was willing to use that power to help you rescue your lover. She didn’t think there was a more noble cause for her to use such power.
At the mention of Alastor being in trouble, silence fell over you once more. It would devastate you should anything happen to him. He had become such a large and important part of your life… unlife. During your time alive, you hadn’t really dabbled much in terms of romance. No one was able to capture your attention long enough.
Then you met Alastor after you died, and you really started to live .
He brought you so much joy, so much love. Though he likely would never admit it aloud, you knew he loved you. There was simply no other explanation for how he treated you like a delicate flower and kept you near him always. The car roared to life, and you sat down. The shadow clung to your arm and emitted some sort of ethereal purring sound. Despite how your hand ghosted through it, you attempted to pet it’s ghastly silhouette. You leaned your head back on the headrest with a sigh, closing your eyes as you held his possessions close to you.
“His shadow really likes you.” Charlie’s voice was soft, attempting to lighten up the mood even as the microphone gave directions to where Alastor was located. You nodded weakly, the smallest of tight-lipped smiles upon your lips.
The further you got to the center of Hell, the fancier it got. Pristine deep maroon, silver buildings on every block you turned. It truly showed how wealthy some of the parts were, but despite Charlie stiffening as she realized just where exactly the microphone was leading them, you remained wholly unaware. It was only when the car started driving towards a vacant but exceedingly expensive château did it begin to dawn upon you that he was in the presence of someone important.
“Is… is this-” You cut yourself off, eyes widened as your heart thrummed in your chest.
“Yes.” She slowed the car at large gates, two guards positioned in front of it. She rolled down the window.
There was a gruff huff as the two demons recognized her. “Charlotte Magne, a pleasure.” They grumbled, the words strained as if it truly weren’t a pleasure. The moment they buzzed the button to let the car in, the more your stomach began to pool with nausea. The establishment of Lucifer himself. The Royal Family .
What in the hell was Alastor doing here?
The car pulled on through, and you felt anxiety and discomfort flood your being. You had never realized just how green Hell could be. Charlie’s family estate was vast and lushly decorated with extravagant gardens and beautifully manicured grasses. There were flowers that you hadn’t even realized existed, but they were all lovely.
The sound of explosive booms met your ears the deeper you were taken into Charlie’s childhood residence. A feeling of dread was swarming in both of your stomachs as you neared what looked to be an active warzone.
There was dust clouding over a large portion of what seemed to be a back lot, tanks, machine guns, and a slew of modern weapons set up along the farthest side of Charlie’s property. You hoped Alastor was alright. When the car finally stopped, both you and Charlie ran out, just in case you might actually be able to stop whatever this was. You held the microphone up, ready to attempt to use it and hurt whoever was threatening your precious deerling, keeping the shadow clutched to your chest.
What met your gaze instead was Alastor waiting inside a large yellow bubble, patiently sipping on a cup of coffee as the dust cleared. Lucifer stood slowly as he noticed you both approaching.
“Charlie, my dear, what a surprise!” He rarely received unprompted visits from his beloved daughter.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Charlie gave her father a hug in welcome and was suddenly worried about you for a different reason. Your grip tightened against the metal pole of the microphone, spurred on by confusion. Alastor spotted you, his grin softening.
“Darling! You made it to the soiree! I’ve been waiting so long, what kept you? Did you make a wrong turn?” He was happy to see you had both his shadow and his microphone, otherwise he would be stuck in this damn force field for even longer.
“...The soiree?” You whispered, peeling your eyes off of Lucifer and Charlie and settling onto the Radio Demon who didn’t seem to be… in any immediate danger. You felt your throat constrict with emotion, your face flushing with an intense heat as you felt the sudden urge to cry. The world swam around you, and you brought your hand up to your eyes, rubbing at them before looking back to Magne father and daughter. Your eyes were glassy, absolutely terrified something had happened to him. Slowly, you drifted your attention back to Alastor, in a daze.
How dare he.
Despite being smaller than Charlie, Lucifer still managed to surpass your height with his own. He was far more intimidating up close. How do you address the ruler of Hell? “Um, sir,” you spoke hesitantly, finding comfort in Charlie’s presence. You would have probably had a panic attack if you had been alone with him.
“Yes?” Lucifer turned his attention on the shaky little creature before him. He had heard a lot about you from his daughter. You were still sweet and painfully naive, a perfect fit for Charlie’s little project. A wee lamb .
“Would you let him go, please?”
Lucifer let out a chuckle. “Oh, yes, I forgot. You know it is very unusual for Alastor to be so quiet . He’s quite the obnoxious one, you know!” He waved his cane, the force field dissipating around Alastor, allowing him to finally come closer to you.
“Darling, I’m so happy you made it!” His shadow slowly slid from your arm, sliding around him like a friendly serpent. He grabbed his microphone from your hands as well, happy to have all pieces of himself back together.
You felt weak. Your shoulders slumped at his chipper voice, as if he hadn’t known the emotional trauma you had just gone through just to get here. You didn’t turn to face him, didn’t acknowledge him even as he grabbed the microphone out of your grip. You could feel a singular tear stream down your cheek; moving your gaze to Charlie: “Thanks, again. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” You whispered, and she gave you a small, tight-lipped smile.
You turned your attention to the Devil then, who tipped his hat when you thanked him for letting Alastor go. You were unaware of what had happened for this to occur, but you were more than happy to get out of here. Beyond uncomfortable, you disregarded Alastor completely, instead looking at his microphone who had its eye trained on you. “Can we go home please?” You weren’t asking Alastor, but instead the one that actually accompanied you throughout the day.
Alastor could see how upset you were. He was a bit confused initially, but he realized that the reason you were so devastated was because of him. “Lucifer, thank you for hosting us, it was a delight as always. Until next year!” He nodded at the fallen angel, cautiously wrapping an arm around your form.
You nearly had a conniption at his words. Hosting? A delight? Next year?
“It was my pleasure, though I was expecting a dove , not this crying pigeon.” Lucifer eyed your teary face. You were a lovely demon, you should have been smiling in his presence, it wasn’t everyday you met the King himself.
“Normally she isn’t crying, isn’t that right, darling?” Perhaps he would just have to cheer you up in this setting. He didn’t know how long he would have to wait to get you alone.
For your sake alone so he didn’t smite you on the spot, you glanced up to Lucifer, refraining from meeting his eyes out of a show of respect. “No, your majesty.” You trailed off, oh the things you wanted to say to Alastor if you hadn’t been in the presence of royalty. He was in for it.
“Okay, hold on. I can’t be the only one confused here, Dad, what’s going on?” Charlie was at a loss. She had no idea what was going on, only that now you were crying, and apparently her dad and the Radio Demon were bowling buddies. She finally felt the fires of hell. This was awful.
“Oh, Ducky, Alastor and I get together once a year to ‘chum up’, you see. We both fight and see how much the other had improved, play pranks on one another, challenge each other... But this year Alastor stupidly bet that he would be able to get out of this years issue with only outside help. He still lost, didn’t you, old sport?”
“No, you were outside the forcefield, Lucifer, so technically, I still won.” Alastor’s eyes narrowed in playful jest.
Because of you. If you hadn’t said anything, he would have been in that stupid bubble still. You were bet on. Not only that, but he had made you stressed and depressed just to get you to come here. You were a game to him. It was a playdate. You suddenly felt disgusted by his arm around you, and despite you truly being relieved he was okay, your anger slowly rose to cover your grief of the possibility of his demise. But you didn’t move, no, you wouldn’t embarrass him like that.
You wouldn’t embarrass him like he embarrassed you.
Charlie was worried. She could smell the distress on you. She called your name softly, holding out her hand for you to grab if you needed it. “Are you okay? I can tell Alastor didn’t tell you what was going on, I’m sorry.” It wasn’t fair to you for him to have done that, her heart felt for you. Her father had put her in many similar situations.
You took her hand gently in your own, “I’m fine if he’s fine,” you lied straight through your teeth with a whisper. You allowed her to see that you were lying by staring up at her with glassy eyes.
Charlie squeezed your hand. “If you’re sure.” You were being too nice even for her standards. Alastor could use a little humbling.
Lucifer on the other hand was thrilled.
“Alastor! You didn’t let your little dove know what was happening, how cruel, even by my standards.” He adjusted his suit coat, straightening his lapels. He eyed your misted gaze once more. Poor little creature, to be in love with such a bastard . Even he felt a modicum of empathy for your situation.
You wanted to disappear right then and there. Lucifer, The Ruler of Hell, was poking and prodding you for fun like a teenager, making you feel worse than you already did. You just wanted to go home.
“Darling, I’m fine, what has you so upset?” Alastor dropped his gaze down to you. You seemed dejected almost, it was bumming him out , as he had heard Angel Dust say once before. No harm had come to him, and you had used your resources spectacularly, he saw no flaw in this days events. Everything had gone so well, and he had even won a bet against the Devil.
“I want to go home.” Your words were clipped, short, rubbing your eyes once more and not offering him the satisfaction of a proper response. Your fear of the Devil made you offer of flurry of apologies, your face burning, because that was so rude! They were both so rude. You could afford to be a bit rude, couldn’t you?
Lucifer found himself amused by your reactions. You truly were like a ruffled pigeon, pecking at the threats around you with such… gusto . “I think we may have a third competitor next year.” Lucifer mused aloud. He beamed down at your form, curious as to how you would respond. Perhaps there was another reason Alastor chose you to be his.
“No thank you,” your patience was wearing thin. This was both of their faults, and finally, swallowing your fear stupidly, you stared directly back at him. You wanted to go home.
“How boring. A shame really, I would have enjoyed seeing what fun we could have had together… For some reason Lillith also refuses to join in on the fun.” Lucifer tapped his chin thoughtfully, ignoring those in his immediate company. He had a good time, he didn’t understand how others could possibly miss out on such a grand opportunity!
He was just like Alastor; going on and on about things you were not interested in. For Alastor, you often listened because you loved him. “Lilith is your wife, right?”
“My cherished beloved, indeed. The loveliest demon in creation.” Well, at least he loved his wife.
“Can I talk to her? She seems more reasonable.” Your patience snapped at that point.
Lucifer took pause, his eyes dropping back to you. He briefly thought about how disrespectful such a question was, but waved it off… for now . “You know, she is actually. She’s the voice of reason in this Hell of ours. Perhaps she’ll come out now that the festivities are over.” Lucifer turned with a hum, tapping his cane back and forth across the un-singed grass, intending on finding his beautiful wife.
But that was the last thing you wanted. You felt your eyes flicker to Charlie and she offered you a shrug with a gentle smile. As long as she was there, you guessed you could hold onto what self-control you had.
Charlie had kept a hold of your hand. She gave you a gentle tug, pulling you out of Alastor’s hold carefully, giving you the option to stay or go. When you followed her movements, she began leading you all inside the rather ostentatious mansion.
“We don’t all get together that often. Thanks for giving us all the opportunity.” She squeezed your hand, happy that this day wasn’t all too bad for you, at least she hoped.
Alastor followed behind, making sure there was no damage to his microphone, now that he had the chance to inspect it. Everything seemed to be in tip top shape, though your attitude most assuredly had room for improvement. Something was upsetting you terribly and it was rare for you to not share in your emotions with him. Regardless, he would get to the bottom of it sooner or later. Hopefully it would be sooner so you would finally look at him.
“I’ll take you into the parlour, Mom likes meeting guests in there and please, for your own sake, try to be careful with the china. She can be pretty specific about where she gets her tea cups. So just be careful.” Charlie pulled out a very lavish seat for you, and an even more lavish table. It was set so beautifully. You didn’t even know if you were going to be comfortable sitting here, let alone sipping tea.
“Is your mother, um,” How did you ask if a person’s mother was nice without offending them in their own home?
“Don’t worry, mom’s really sweet when you get to know her.” Charlie settled next to you, already putting sugar into her cup. Alastor was about to take the other seat at your side, but when your leg wrapped around the chair leg, he assumed he wasn’t supposed to sit next to you at the moment.
He took the seat across from you, keeping his almost puppy-like gaze on you. What had he done to be treated like this?
“Charlotte! Darling! I didn’t know you were bringing friends over today!” Lilith might have been the most gorgeous person you had ever set eyes on. Her hair flowed behind her so dreamily and she was coming closer to you by the second. “It’s so nice to meet some of your friends, I’m Lilith, it’s a pleasure to have you in my home!” She grabbed your hand and held it close to her, making sure your eyes were looking into hers.
You felt a blush spread over your cheeks at the attention.
“Now, dearest, try not to smother her.” Lucifer came waltzing back in, taking his own seat at the head of the table while Lilith finally released you to sit at her husband’s side. It was humorous to see their size differences, but you guessed that’s exactly how you and Alastor looked, just swapped.
“But sweetheart, have you seen how darling she is. I would just love to dress her up!” Charlie sent you a nervous glance. They had treated Vaggie the same way when they had met her.
“Sorry, mom and dad can be a lot.”
You gave her a weak smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” it wasn’t, but you weren’t going to embarrass her. Not when your significant other was sitting right there and was actually deserving of your silent fury.
“Charlotte, what brings you here today?” Lilith was now sitting gracefully, hands folded delicately in her lap while a plethora of servants seemed to materialize from nowhere, ready to serve tea and other little petit fours and other small treats. You began to sink into your seat.
“Actually we’re here because we thought Alastor was in trouble.” Charlie sipped at her now steaming tea. Alastor raised his gaze to see you trying to disappear into the china.
“Why would you think that, little one?” The Queen of Hell was addressing you, so you knew you had to respond.
“I, um,” oh no, the anxiety was flaring up again. “I had a feeling.” You glared at both Alastor and his microphone. They were the ones that brought you here, that had you feeling underdressed.
Lilith narrowed her silver gaze onto the Radio Demon who was seemingly uncomfortable. It had been a very rare sight indeed, and very subtle. You were upset with him, that much was easy to see, and he was a man , so oblivious to why you would be upset with him. You reminded her of herself when she was so much younger.
“Come, little one, Charlotte, let’s have some girl time while I get you both in more suitable attire for the evening.” You were sure that there wasn’t anyone who would say no to Lilith, and you weren’t going to be the one who started. “By the way, boys, now that you’re inside, don’t destroy my home.” The two of you rose to follow the Queen. You refused to look at Alastor, your stubborn qualities shining through as you quietly shadowed the exceedingly tall demon, glancing at Charlie who only glanced at you in return. Her look let you know everything you needed to.
There was no getting out of this.
It wasn’t like you could say ‘no’ to the Queen when she dressed you to her liking; your hair being curled loosely, your attire completely changing as the woman practically gave you a makeover. Thankfully, she had asked for your tastes, and you responded. The makeup was simple enough, just enough to highlight your features and make you shine, as she had stated.
“Oh, little one, you are to die for!” There was a clapping sound when you spun around. The dress that adorned your frame was a deep red that was reminiscent of blood, an embroidered dragon curled around your shoulders in the lace back, and sleeves ended with a diamond around your middle knuckle. Expensive. You felt entirely out of your element, but instantly felt better when you saw Charlie, who stood tall in an elegant white chiffon gown. She didn’t look like the Charlie you knew.
You supposed you found comfort in the fact that you both were exceedingly uncomfortable.
The Queen was thrilled as she reintroduced you all back into the parlour. “Now, you both are suited for the evening. Lucifer, don’t they look beautiful?” The Queen had her hands held together, barely containing her excitement.
“Absolutely stunning! Excellent work, my love!” Charlie blushed at the adoring attention she was receiving from her parents. You weren’t faring much better under the scrutiny. Nevertheless, you did manage to glance back at Alastor instinctively; your temper returning the moment you did. Anxiously, you folded the expensive fabric between your index finger and thumb.
You looked exquisite. This gown you were wearing was something that he would never even have thought to put you in, but it was made for you . Knowing the Queen, it very well could have been. Lilith had a gift for sewing, after all.
Your abundant curves were on a very enticing show in such a fitted dress. He could not hide the approval in his eyes at the sight of you, so he did not try to. Though you were still angry with him, hopefully you knew how much he approved of your choice of dress. It made his chest bloom with warmth.
Quietly, you sat back down in your chair, the tea that was in your cup still warm, miraculously. You didn’t like being mad at him, in fact, it killed you. But you couldn’t help but feel hurt and misused, he needed to know you weren’t a game to him. You weren’t some sort of toy he could bet on! There was a moment of hesitation before you brought the teacup back to your lips, still entirely frustrated with what got you here in the first place. Eventually, everyone reseated themselves.
“So, pigeon, how is it you met Alastor?” Lucifer leaned back casually in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, munching on a cucumber sandwich.
Pigeon. He didn’t have the respect to even call you by your name. “We ran into each other in the fourth circle, reaching for the same apple. ” you spoke up from your silence, recalling the fond, silly memory with an attitude laced from your annoyance with the entire situation. You could feel Alastor’s eyes burning into you. You did your best to ignore it, and ultimately, him.
Lucifer’s eyes were sparkling. How utterly precious. “Lilith, darling, did you hear that? Reaching for the same apple , it reminds me of how we met so long ago!” He reached over for his wife’s hand, grasping it tenderly. “You might be a dove after all, little one.” Lucifer winked at you. The Devil… just winked at you. If you were to be alive for the rest of the evening, you were going to need some booze. You missed Husk. You could use a drink or two, or maybe five. Innocent as you were, you had a limit with how much you could process in a single day, and right now, you just wanted to disappear. You gave him a weak smile, just to appease whatever malicious intent he may have had. He was the Devil, he reeked of it.
“Alastor, you haven’t been this quiet since the damnening of 48’, what’s got you so quiet?” Lucifer would not allow whatever strangeness was currently befitting the two of you to linger. He wanted entertainment for the evening and you both were going to give it to him. They were already in Hell, it was time for high water .
Alastor took in a deep dramatic breath, smile ever still on his face. “I just wish my darling little dove would tell me why she’s so upset.” Lilith sipped patiently at her tea. You were sure to snap soon. Unlike her husband, she was not overly fond of property damage, but this she could handle. It had been so long since she had seen a good row between two lovers.
“Not now,” you muttered under your breath, finally allowing your eyes to linger on him for a moment.
“But, darling, I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”
“I said not now, Alastor.”
“Well, when then? You’ve been disagreeable for hours, either get over it or tell me what’s wrong.” The tension was so thick, Charlie was tempted to lift up a knife and cut through it. Alastor was either being stupid or oblivious, because everyone else at the table was just waiting for you to snap and possibly murder him in cold blood.
Your last bit of patience had snapped and you slammed your fist on the table, the china clattering around for a moment before laying still. You paused, gritting your teeth, before looking over to Lilith and Lucifer. “May I please be excused?” You wouldn’t go until they let you.
“Oh, don’t mind us, it’s been a few millennia since we’ve had such interesting guests, please, continue!” Lucifer was infuriating. Charlie let her head fall into her hand. Her parents didn’t have to be that obvious about it.
You paused, casting a look to Lilith since she was the reasonable one.
“You don’t have to stay, little one, if you want space that’s fine, but do know it’s more than alright if you stay.” She wanted to see the ensuing fight as much as her husband.
Well, if they insisted.
You snapped your gaze to your significant other, the bastard in red. “You are out of your MIND!” You cried, nose wrinkling and cheeks reddening for finally releasing the onslaught of emotion that had you riled up silently for hours. “Did you think for a moment that I could have thought something happened to you? You didn’t even LEAVE A NOTE!” Your hands flew out from your sides, standing up then to just get some sort of height over him. “You-you left me with that microphone the entire day! He’s so mean! I had to go into your shed to get ingredients for your voodoo hoodoo stuff that I couldn’t even figure out without Charlie!”
Oh, but you weren’t done.
“Not only that, but when we actually found you—“ you pointed directly at Lucifer then, “—you made a bet? A bet!” You laughed in exasperation, leaning over the table just slightly. “What am I to you, Alastor? A game that you can bet on? Just so you can have your little play date with the damn Devil!?” You anger was fading out into worry, tears beginning to stream down your face and ultimately ruin what makeup had been adorning your face. “What… what if you got hurt? What would I do then, huh? What would I have done!?”
You heaved a breath, before looking back at Lucifer. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hope that was enough entertainment.”
“Oh yes, that was wonderful! You are excused, you feisty little creature.” He hadn’t seen such a show in years, it made it all the better that it had been aimed at Alastor. There really wasn’t a more deserving demon in Hell than he for your stunning anger.
You took off your heels right then and there, because Lucifer Forbid you storm out of there and nearly break your ankle in doing so, and promptly exited the mansion from the way you had come. The moment you got outside, you took a deep breath and slumped against the wall. Your breath was visible in the late evening air.
Alastor blinked at the spot you had previously been standing. That had been… quite the impressive outburst for someone so small. He now realized that he might be at fault for your distress. He had thought that him leaving his microphone behind would have been enough of an indication that he was alright, as he would never leave it behind normally, but that had been precisely the reason you had been so fearful in the first place.
“Pardon me, I have a little darling to comfort.” He placed his napkin back on the table and ignored the sly remark from Lucifer about deer consuming doves, his mind was too preoccupied to respond. He followed your path only to see you leaning against the wall, smudging your makeup.
“Darling, come now, stop crying. I won’t let this happen again. Next time I will let you know ahead of time before Lucifer’s and I’s get together.” He wouldn’t apologize, because he was not expressly sorry that he had done it, only that he had not done so properly.
The moment you heard his voice, you wiped your eyes with a harshness with the back of your hand, still in your emotional turmoil, managing to attempt to not get the dress dirty. “Next time?” You murmured softly, “You gonna bet on me again?” You refused to look at him. “Or are you going to just leave me a note and hope that you don’t get obliterated?” There was a moment of sniffling before you turned your puffy eyes to him.
“If it bothers you so, I will not bet on you again. And no, in the future I will discuss with you when I am leaving and why I am leaving. As for getting obliterated, well that’s just wacky nonsense. Lucifer and I have these days as little training practices, for the next possible hostile takeover. I have to make sure my skills stay up to par.” He bounced on his heels before you. He was never in any real danger here, there were always healers on stand by if anything got too crazy, and he was one of the best strategists that had ever been in Hell. It was only natural to prepare for such inevitability.
“You’re really, really dumb if you trust the Devil.” You blubbered the nonsense into your hand.
“Some would say the same of trusting the Radio Demon.” You were being ridiculous, as if he would ever leave you. His eyes flitted to the windows, where Lilith and Lucifer were waiting, eyes eagerly on you both.
It wasn’t clicking with him. It wasn’t making sense to him that you had thought he had gotten hurt. “You’re ridiculous, I can’t even-” You didn’t want to speak to him anymore. Whatever you said went in one ear and out the other. Your emotional turmoil wasn’t something he cared for, you realized, he just wanted his fun. You pushed yourself off of the wall, sniffling. “I’m not staying here. I’m going home.” You would walk if you had to.
“Darling, I can’t very well change my behavior unless you let me know expressly why you are so upset. If those aren’t the only reasons, you need to tell me.” He grabbed your hand, lightly. He understood that you felt things differently than he did, but he was not a mind reader. You needed to communicate with him if you wanted him to be better for you.
You looked down at your intertwined fingers, his holding onto yours more so than you were actually holding onto his. You felt emotion tie a knot in your throat, a sob leaving your lips as you finally released your tears. “I thought- I thought I lost you.” You didn’t want to look at him, so you kept your eyes trained on your hands. Everything was swimming around you as you tried to piece together this and that to express how scared you had been. A lot of it was incoherent, based on how you were shivering at that point, cries and sobs mingling in with each word.
“Oh darling,” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, bringing you into him, holding you close against him. He should have been able to figure it out, but this, you, were his first real relationship. He was so used to doing whatever he wanted, it seldom occurred to him just how his actions may harm those, you, who actually cared about him. “Little darling, I promise you, I will never leave you in such dire straits again. I assumed incorrectly. I was only thinking of the tradition I share with Lucifer. I knew it was going to be different this year, because I finally had someone to fight for, so foolishly, I bet on you. But as always, you didn’t disappoint. I am fine, you don’t have to cry little one.” He slipped his fingers into your hair, knotting his claws around the tresses, keeping you pressed tightly against him.
“I don’t want you to do this anymore, I-“ you whispered against his suit, inhaling his scent as you felt the anger suddenly wash away. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, I don’t wanna have to worry over you.”
“Why don’t you come with me next year, you can spend the day with the Queen and Charlie, perhaps even Vaggie. And, darling, there are loads of healers and doctors on standby, so even if there is an accident, it’s solved almost instantly.” This estate was the safest spot in Hell on these days.
“I don’t want you in pain.”
“That’s silly, you can’t stop me from ever experiencing pain. It is a truth of this afterlife, my dear.” He cupped your cheeks. You couldn’t stop him from experiencing pain anymore than he could make it so you wouldn’t. It just wasn’t possible.
You looked up at him finally, mostly from his hold on your cheeks. Your eyes were glassy, tired from emotional turmoil, before you finally gave into his affections. He wouldn’t ever apologize explicitly; he never did. But he did manage to show remorse for making you feel the way you did; in his own special way. “I can try,” you murmur softly, sniffling.
“Hey! Lovebirds! Gumbo is gonna get cold, if you keep it up! Come back inside!” Young love, it was so fragile. Lucifer eyed Lilith fondly, giving her a playful tap on her bottom. She sent him a sly glance. He knew she was going to really give it to him tonight. She loved drama.
“He’s so annoying,” you sighed into his palm.
“Maybe, but he is an excellent host. And the gumbo is delicious, we really should go inside!” Alastor started leading you towards the door.
“He called me a pigeon! He’s so rude!” You replied, even as he lead you back into the mansion.
“Pigeons are wonderful creatures darling! They have such colorful feathers, and they are quite clever birds if I do recall. That and they can do some real damage, a very impressive animal.” The gumbo smelled wonderful, it reminded him of such exciting times.
That’s right, he was a hunter in his past life. You guessed briefly that he didn’t only hunt deer, considering what knowledge he had on a plethora of different animals.
The moment the two of you returned, you gave a bashful smile to the three of them. To Lucifer, however, it was a bit strained. “I’m sorry… for that.”
“Oh nonsense! It was interesting to see how Alastor can be so soft . Didn’t know he had it in him. Normally he’s an absolute monster.” Lucifer waved off your apology. Such weakness was invested in apologies. You should have been very proud that you had been able to bend such a powerful demon to your will. That was very fascinating, if he said so himself. Alastor was such a bastard, but with you, he was just going to be your bastard . Lovely.
You squeezed his hand gently, before returning to your seat. The previous tension in the room had suddenly wavered off into a comfortable conversation; at least, as comfortable as it could be. You tossed Charlie a small smile, regret clouding your gaze. You felt… bad. You were a bad friend. You had embarrassed not only yourself, but her in that little argument. Were you even eligible to continue to be her friend? Would she forgive you?
Anxiety began to creep up your spine as you mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to her.
“Oh, don’t worry about it! I’m glad you stood your ground. It’s like dad always says, don’t take shit from other demons!” Lucifer let out a hoot of laughter at her impression of him.
“Ducky! You are quite right, and little dove, she’s right. Don’t take shit from any other demons, especially that one!” He pointed to Alastor, a knowing look in his eyes.
“I’ll try not to,” you replied gingerly. The gumbo had been a delicious meal, though, you doubted that the King of Hell would settle for anything other than perfection. Despite the small talk, you couldn’t help but feel more at ease than before, becoming more talkative, but still holding your cautiousness as the night came to a close.
You sent Alastor a look that you sincerely hoped he read as ‘it’s time to go.’
“Well, I’m exhausted, shall I have someone show you your rooms for the evening?” The Queen stood, pushing her chair into the table.
You nearly choked on air, eyes widening and darting to Lilith.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised, little one. It’s so late, and you both need a good night’s rest. Besides, Charlie rarely brings company home.” She smiled warmly at you. She wanted to know more about the demons her daughter spent time with. The Queen found she was rather fond of you.
Your face began to heat up at the thought, embarrassment clouding your expression. You had made a fool of yourself, and now they were offering you and Alastor a luxurious room, most likely, to sleep in? You looked over to said demon, raising an eyebrow that basically said ‘don’t you dare’.
“Of course, Lilith, that would be so kind of you.” Alastor was never one to turn down an invitation from Royalty. It wasn’t exactly like he could anyway.
The night would never end , it seemed. With a light sigh and a glare to him, you pushed your seat out and stood up. You looked over to Charlie then, “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” You wanted to hug her, to tell her how appreciative you were of her, but when there was a clearing of the throat, you turned and followed after Lilith.
She spun her fingers, gorgeous black silk pajamas falling into your hands. “Feel free to draw up a bath, and relax. It seems you have had a trying day. We’ll see you all in the morning for breakfast. Jasper will show you your rooms. Good night little one.” She bent over and gave you a hug, nearly drowning you in her chest.
You were surprised at the affection given to you, and you could have sworn you felt your bones pop at the strength she exhibited, but before you could complain, or praise, she allowed your release, ushering you off to follow ‘Jasper’. You felt Alastor’s presence next to yours, his hand grasping yours gently and swinging your arm in an almost playful manner. The butler was a lanky thing, a demon that looked more similar to a squirrel than any other creature. Nevertheless, you followed him down the exceedingly long hallway, the walls decorated with lights and portraits of the family.
Your emotions were still on a fragile line, and the moment the three of you reached the single room, you pointed it out.
“Ah, very good Miss, the Queen has requested you share a room.” Of course she did, you felt a sigh fall from your lips.
“Okay,” it was all you could really bring yourself to say, the butler gave a bow and excused himself, disappearing down the hall. You let go of Alastor’s hand to open the door, the extravagant room immediately making your eyes widen. It was gorgeous. Everything was dark, of course, but so utterly ridiculously pristine that you felt dirty just standing there.
You eyes flickered down to the silk pajamas, the soft fabric making you eager to put them on and fall asleep. The thought of a bath was welcoming, too, though. “Can you help me with the zipper?” Your voice was soft.
“Of course.” He followed you to the edge of the bath, patiently waiting for you to turn before him.
You did, eventually, after evening out the temperature. You were more than eager to get out of the dress, despite it being drop-dead gorgeous. You weren’t sure how Lilith did it everyday; her sense of style so utterly gorgeous and fantastic that you found yourself relating to Charlie on a much more personal scale. You would be sure to return it to her tomorrow, despite it seemingly being tailored to fit your form almost perfectly. “Okay.” You turned around to let him unzip the dress.
You looked exhausted . He held in a sigh at how he could have been so foolish as to think allowing you to wake alone, would have been fine. His fingers gently traced about the dragon on your shoulders before delicately pulling at the zipper. His claws made short work of freeing you from your constraints. He hoped you’d be more comfortable now.
You were comfortable in his presence in such a vulnerable state; you body being freed from such confining fabric before you stepped into the bath and quite literally sank until only your head poked out. You released a soft moan at how your aching muscles relaxed almost immediately, the scent of lavender and roses filling the room with the soap. “I’ll be out soon, okay? Go to sleep if you want.” You murmured into the bubbles.
He had already put you through so much during the day, he stooped down low, nearly crouching in his efforts, just to place a gentle kiss on your temple. He quietly excused himself out of the bathroom to give you your space. He readied in silence, listening to the faint splashes in the tub to assure himself you were indeed, still there.
The bath was something you wish could have lasted an eternity. Perhaps it could have, since that’s how long you had left to spend down here, but you decided otherwise. Stepping out and feeling utterly relaxed, you drained the tub and slipped into your pajamas, the silk texture cool against your skin and absolutely welcoming.
Stepping out of the room after drying your hair, you quietly moved towards the bedside before letting your weight dip into the bed. Gently, you pulled back the covers and curled yourself into them, the bed was unfamiliar, foreign, but it was still just a bed.
Alastor was there, so your comfort improved dramatically by his presence alone. Gingerly, on your knees, you leaned over him and poked him on the monocle. “Are you asleep?” An inquisitive, but playful question.
“Not even a little. How can I help you, darling?” He insisted on wearing his monocle, even to bed, just to make sure everyone knew how dedicated he was to being a nuisance.
With a sigh, you let yourself collapse onto him, your own head on his chest and just listening to him breathe. Your fingertips made small ministrations against the fabric of his clothes, your eyes trained on how his body moved. “What are you thinking about?” You ignored his question, for the moment. Your words were a whisper.
He was quiet for a couple of ticks. He did not want to risk saying anything that would upset you. But he settled for the truth. “I have been ruminating on today. While I had a splendid time, as I usually do, it pains me to know that you were not experiencing anything even remotely positive. I assure you darling, this will not happen again.”
“I know.” You stop your ministrations to the fabric of his clothes. “You already told me , silly.” You leaned up to him then, letting your lips gently brush against his. “I know you won’t apologize,” your tone turned serious then, bringing a hand up to twirl it around a lock of his hair absentmindedly. “And even if I say I forgive you, I’m afraid you might not believe me.” You pressed your lips to his before pulling away. “So if you want, you can try to apologize in your own way.” You flutter your eyelashes at him playfully.
“And what way,” He settled his hand behind your neck, pressing his lips to your chin, “Would that be?” He started to press teasing kisses down the column of your throat, delighting in the feeling of your heart beating against his lips.
You closed your eyes as his lips brushed against your skin, your heart instinctively speeding up against his touches, as teasing as they were. “That’s up for you to decide.”
“It seems to me,” He slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him, giving you the option to dismiss his touches should you wish, “That you have already decided how you want me to apologize.”
You didn’t lean back from him, instead leaning into him and kissing his forehead, between his eyes, his nose, and then finally just hovering above his lips. “Have I?”
Your hands trailed over his dress-shirt that he still insisted on wearing to bed, as he hadn’t any other clothing to wear at that moment, before letting your gaze fall to his lips. “Maybe I want you to show me how sorry you are.” You pressed your lips to his, your eyes lidded. “In whatever way that may be,” you wanted him to initiate it, not the other way around.
“And if I’m not sorry?” He was never one to admit to weakness, to show just what he had up his sleeve, but he had a suspicious inkling that you already knew he might have felt some type of remorse of how he could have handled today better… at least when it came down to you. He took his time fiddling with the soft fabric on your sides.
You raised your eyebrows, staring at him for a long moment before releasing a sigh. You had been with him long enough to realize that he would never admit things so easily; words were merely words, but his actions spoke louder. You knew him, but you were no mind reader; you couldn’t pick apart the deepest recesses of his mind even now, for he was someone of enigmatic nature.
No matter what you did, no matter how long you were with him, for the rest of eternity perhaps, that fact would never change. The feeling of his hands against your sides made your heart clench, a tightness in your chest. The feeling of his claws dancing gently across you only held back by a thin fabric. “Then I guess you’d have to stop,” he wasn’t going to win this.
You could be so cunning when the time called for it. His smile turned impish. He took a firm hold of your waist, keeping you steady a top him while he scooted gracefully up the headboard. He knew what you wanted, and he would give it to you, because somewhere deep in the remaining fragments of his soul, he was sorry.
One of his hands came to cradle the side of your face, gently pressing his lips to yours, while his other hand cupped the glorious globes of your ass.
But he didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop there; and ultimately, you got your answer in a cryptic, confusing response, as always. Perhaps that’s what made you so utterly fascinated with him; there was always something new to discover, to try to pull apart and piece back together. Straddling his waist, you leaned forward and pressed your lips back against his, your heart a wardum against your ribcage. With those big ears of his, could he hear it?
At the feeling of his hands roaming down and cupping you, you released an amused breath, parting from him for a moment, your lips ghosting over his: “You’re bold,” a soft whisper before connecting your lips to his once again. Bringing your hands to the crook between his neck and elbows, you traced small shapes into his skin.
His boldness should have been something you were used to. In times like these, he was always tempted to be so selfish. Having your warm writhing body on top of him was a different type of comfort. It was more carnal than he was used to. While he may have been a beast in certain aspects of his personality, he prided himself on his self control. However, when it came to you, it seemed that he was always ready to snap. His darkest desires would come forth, and it would take everything he had in himself to calm down, and just enjoy the sweet ministrations that you would gift to him.
The subtle thrusts of your hips, grinding down onto him, making him harden painfully in his too constricting pants, to the gentle heat of your mouth working against his. Even the softness of your lips and how malleable you would become under his touch, everything about you when you were aroused called to his senses of domination.
But he could never lose control like that with you.
His hands flexed on your body, twitching to life. He took hold of the pajamas you were wearing and pulled them off you. A satisfying rip sounded through the air. Perhaps he could stand to lose a bit of control. He would show you how sorry he was that you hadn’t been doing this sooner.
The moment he rid you of the silk, you winced at the sound. You hoped it wasn’t too expensive. Despite your betterment of allowing him control of you, you trailed a single hand behind his neck and rooted your fingers in his hair. If your eyes had been open, they would have held a mischievous glint in them-- you hadn’t done such a thing before, so, to ensure he didn’t catch onto your little scheme, you remained there, your other hand sliding down to his chest and attempting to rid him of his own garments. It was difficult with one hand; but you managed.
The moment you trailed your fingers up to the base of his ear, you broke out into a large grin, pulling away from him to drown in his expressions and reactions. Gentle ministrations to the fluffy cartilage, caressing the subtle indentations of such wondrous things. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if it would even do anything; you were just glad that you had managed to get past his guard.
He knew what you were going for, he always knew. And he was quite sure you knew what you were doing to him when you played with such a sensitive part of his anatomy. The second he felt the fluttering of your fingers drifting through the fine hair on his ears, shudders ran up his spine. He was painfully hard, and with a snap of his fingers, his clothes phased away. He was not one who ever wanted to torture himself, and when the torture was this sweet, well, needless to say, he was ready to bury himself inside your depths and never leave.
This was Hell after all, he was willing to die pleasing you.
You released an amused laugh at the way his eyelashes fluttered, gooseflesh dancing across his now exposed skin; you weren’t sure if it was enjoyable, though, you wanted to make sure. “Is- is it okay?” Uncertainty ran wild in your mind, and you ceased your movements for a moment, brows furrowed in mild concern.
“Darling,” he heaved out, gripping your lower half in one hand, rolling his hardness up against you, teasing you with the warmth emanating from his body, “It’s more than okay.” Your uncertainty needed to go.
His heavy breath confirmed that you were fine, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of him rolling his hips against your exposed skin. Pressing yourself against him, you moved to reattach your lips to his; restarting your ministrations to his sensitive ears. “Okay,” you whispered gently, either as a ‘go ahead’, or as an ‘okay’ to the fact that he had approved your teasing touches. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you; your face warming at the lude thoughts that entered your mind.
For one reason or another, you knew that he was exceedingly gentle with you no matter the scenario; and while it may have been for the fact that he could literally tear you apart if he were not careful, you wanted him as he was. Your stomach did flips; did you just ask, or did you have to initiate it a different way? Subconsciously, your fingers began to roughen in their movements, relaying your thoughts in a mild way.
His ears flattened against his head, in a subconscious effort to lessen the pleasure he was receiving, but your hands continued their onslaught. He was taking in deep measured breaths, trying to maintain his composure, but as your gentle touches become heavy, his fingers curled tightly against your frame, claws pressing dangerously against your skin, threatening to break the skin.
He wanted you to ride him like the beast he was.
He pulled his hips back from you, a brief searching for your warmth, before bringing his hips back to yours, stretching you open on top of him in the most intimate of ways. Your heat encompassed him, the ruffled velvet walls of your passage pulling him in deeper, as if there was a more secret part of you he could reach. He hissed against your mouth, it came out as more of a growl though, a deep rumble that vibrated through his body. A mere taste of the control he was using to ensure he didn’t split you in half.
The moment he entered you, you released a long, drawn out whine; his girth something you truly would never get used to. Despite his efforts, he managed to make you feel full even when he had only just begun; sharp pains shooting up your spine as you remained still, waiting for the moment he hilted himself, or for the moment your body finally relaxed against his intrusive cock. When his ears pinned against his head, you eased your motions slightly before allowing your fingers to simply knot in his hair. “Let yourself go,” you murmured softly, the words falling from your lips before you had the chance to rethink what exactly you had just requested of him.
There was a part of him, a very small part, that told him to take it easy. He could very well kill you if he let himself have you in the ways he wanted to. Though he was never one to listen to such musings anymore.
The glow in his eyes intensified. His arm snaked around your form and he pinned your back to the bed, pouncing on top of you, while remaining locked inside you. His lips twitched around his teeth and his chest heaved, once, twice, three times, before he seized a painful grip on your hips, one thumb set to circle that hardened bundle of nerves just above your arousal.
He was going to make you wish you had kept your pretty mouth shut .
His antlers curled outwards from his head, and his form grew, even while he was still inside you. He knew the stretch for you had to be painful, you were painfully tight around him. He started pumping into you, slowly at first, working his thumb in small circles around your clit, trying to keep your body open and willing for him. The little coos and groans of discomfort should have made him feel bad. They only spurred him on, and the fact that your body was dripping, not blood, made a sick grin stretch over his features.
You liked it.
Your back arched off of the bed as he thrusted into you, your eyes trained on his expression and how it grew darker. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t ignite a pang of fear into you, but knowing that it was him and you had told him to lose himself, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus on the touches he so generously fed to your aching, needy form. Soft moans fled from your lips, leaning your head back against the pillows and, unintentionally, exposing your neck to him.
A string of blessings and curses escaped you as your body fought over whether to give into the pain of him stretching you out, or to the pleasure that he was sparking deep inside you.
The sounds you were making combined with the image of your blissed out face beneath him as he ravished you had him on a dangerous path. This was an image he that would be burned inside his mind for many years, centuries in fact. He wanted it framed, immortalized, he wanted it wallpapered in every room of his home.
You were a god damned masterpiece.
He was still working himself into you, still mildly concerned about destroying your lower half with his length, if he actually were to hilt himself inside you. He might come out your throat, but from the way you were arching up into him, you truly made it difficult for him to keep you safe when you were this tempting.
He could see the throbbing veins in your neck, the scent of your sweat and the sheen it gave your precious form; it made him lick his lips. If he were to go near your throat right now, he could very well eat you alive. The lack of concern, or perhaps the abundance of trust you had in him, was staggering. He was half way into his true demon form, and he would stay like this until he spilled over into you, until you were begging him to fill you up.
You were glad you had your eyes closed, for it would have been a terrifying sight indeed. The pleasure coiled as he moved his thumb with fervor and feverish touches against your bundle of nerves. He was never ending, the more he worked himself into you, the louder your whines and coos became.
A deep growl vibrated through his chest. Your cries were getting louder and louder, it had his ego soaring. Your warm limber body was still so welcoming to him, and he could feel your passage fluttering around him as your release came nearer and nearer. Your eyes were shut tight, and it was probably for the best you didn’t see him like this. He dropped his head to your neck, careful of his antlers. He opened his mouth, scratching his teeth carefully across your skin, barely drawing blood, but leaving thin lines across that lovely column of flesh.
One of his hands clutched your hips, keeping you still while the other doubled its efforts on driving you off the edge. He felt your body stutter against him, your chest heaving with the need for more air as orgasm spiralled through your veins and flushed across your skin.
It was such a beautiful sight that you pulled him over with you. He felt his abdomen tighten and his thighs quiver with the force he emptied himself into you. He came so hard it almost hurt . The sweet slide of his chest against yours slowly brought him back down to you as he relished in the remnants of pleasure that coursed through his veins.
His antlers receded back to their normal size, as did the rest of his body. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, giving you a gentle kiss, something much more manageable he was sure.
Opening your eyes, your breaths staggering and catching breath from his assault, you brought your hand to the back to his head and curled a stray hair around your finger. Your thoughts left you in silence, the pleasure that had made your skin burn and offer you relief of your emotional trauma that you experienced.
But for him, you would do it all over again.
“How was that for an apology?” That damn laugh track was going to ruin everything.
Chapter 9: Movie Night, because Brooke couldn't think of a clever title.
There will be a part two coming in a few days! Stay tuned, sinners!
“Can we watch this?” You were holding up a tape that had ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ scribbled on a piece of masking tape with a handwriting that didn’t match either you or Alastor’s. You flipped it around, taking a glance at the other movie tapes that were messily surrounding your kneeling form. The majority of them were things you had never heard of before; old, decrepit-- like Alastor-- and reminding you of a time that you did not have the pleasure of experiencing. Often times, you found yourself to be envious of the more simple times, as Alastor put it; disinterested entirely of the sudden change in electronics and otherwise. If you had been in an anime, your eyes would have had sparkles in them, practically bouncing in place as giddiness rolled off of you in waves.
You had never watched it, but it sounded mysterious.
Alastor looked up from his book, one of the many he enjoyed reading and making notes in. One never could know enough about the ways in dark magic, you never knew when something would come in handy. You were vibrating on the floor while you looked at him, those wide eyes begging him to comply. He looked at the old tape you were holding and smiled. It was a favorite, for he remembered reading the book when he had still been alive.
“I don’t see why not.” It was a rather enjoyable tale of revenge, filled with murder, plotting, and manipulation. Truly, a delightful film. “Go ahead and put it in, darling.”
You beamed up at him from your lowered position, leaning over and pressing the button that would eject the slot where you could put the tape in. Grabbing the remote, you turned the television on and changed it to the specific channel; a black and white screen greeting you. Alastor of course would be the type of person that made sure to rewind the film. Immediately the beginning credits started to play, old music drifting from the television as the names of the actors were displayed in the center of the screen, different backgrounds of locations used during filming behind those names.
Your eyes roamed over the costume choices; immediately coming to the conclusion that, while it had been an older film, it most likely was something from Alastor’s time period. “He has your style.” You commented, mostly to yourself while picking yourself up from your kneeling position; just loud enough for him to hear. You walked over to the light switch and flicked it off; darkness shrouding the room, essentially ruining the reading light that Alastor had been depending on.
The sound of water sloshing against a ship had his focus for the moment, it truly was a spectacular film. However, nothing would ever compete with the perfection of the novel itself. Alastor quietly shut his book, placing it on the table before him. He would clean up later, when you wanted to watch a movie, you normally commanded that he sit with you on the couch. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and rose, coming to sit in his favorite spot, the corner seat of the couch. There were many cushions he could sink into, and he planned on doing so. While the note from Napoleon was being passed along, he settled himself into place, crossing his legs and leaning back into the lush seat.
Moving towards the couch, you watched in amusement at the fact that he just knew. Waiting until he was comfortable, you sat down next to him despite there being more than enough space to separate yourself on. After all, the couch was large enough to practically sprawl out on. Swiping a thin blanket that draped itself across the headrest. Nevertheless, you found yourself quite literally climbing over him just to settle yourself in his lap. Bringing the blanket to your chin, and covering the two of you despite the protests he may or may not have had; you leaned back with a sigh.
He was surprisingly comfortable. Even though he was very bony.
Alastor slipped his fingers into your hair, toying with the strands as the plot began to play out before you both, that fiend Fernand being a complete bastard to his supposed friend. Alastor would have slaughtered him had he been in the Count’s position. If anyone tried to take you away from him, let alone his supposed ‘best friend’, he would have thrown a tantrum of such power it would have devastated the first three circles of Hell.
He was mostly paying attention to the screen, while he played nonsensically in your hair, keeping his hands busy while one man’s life was ruined by outside forces.
His touches were soft and sweet; such touches made it easier to sink into the moment, practically melting against his abdomen; your heartrate picking up just barely, as it often did in his presence. You were utterly and completely infatuated with him, and it showed with just how much trust you put into him by how close his exceedingly sharp claws were to your head. A vulnerable position you willingly putting yourself into the situation by your own decisions and actions. Subconsciously, you leaned into his hand; not noticing it yourself as you were too swept up with the storyline.
Alastor could not even imagine what it would feel like to have someone he cared about betray him in such a way. Eight years of solitary confinement, after being wrongly accused of in the first place, by people that you thought you could trust. It made his blood boil even thinking about it. He was sure if he had been in that position, he would have tried to escape as well. He would be lucky if he had a mad priest to assist him in his endeavors.
Alastor didn’t think he was fit for prison anyway. He really enjoyed being surrounded by his cushions, and his darling in his lap. Should he ever go to prison, somehow, he hoped that you knew you were required to bust him out, or at least help him refurbish his cell, because there was no way in Hell or otherwise, he was going to have such a dry, dusty existence . If it were to be dry and dusty, it would be from books and spell ingredients. He would never live as a savage.
Leaning your head back, you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Is my hair interesting?” You cooed softly; you didn’t mind his mindless touches, but when his claws did graze you gingerly, it tickled. It brought you out of the reverie of the movie. Putting your hand on top of his, which was placated on your head, you awkwardly hooked your fingers in the spaces between them and attempted to pull it away.
Alastor was fully engrossed by the film. There was even a treasure island, there was not another movie that could deliver in terms of adventure. And if there was, he refused to see it. It would never come close. He heard you mumble something and start to pull his hand away, so he allowed you to move him as you wanted so you could find your comfort once more.
He should purchase an island… He should build himself an island… He could definitely find something to make this work. He would go real-estate shopping next week. He would make this happen.
When he didn’t respond, fully engrossed into the movie in a similar way he would be with a book; you let a smile engulf your features. Allowing you control over his arm, you hummed and brought it to your stomach. Moments like these were rare; and you were entirely too welcoming of the idea that he could hold you in whatever way he wanted. You weren’t after anything, no, the movie was too good to toss up or ignore, but you did tear your eyes off of the screen for a moment to pull your shirt up slightly and lay his hand across your skin. And then you curled yourself up in the blankets again, snuggling deeper into the depths of the fabric and returning your attention to the television.
He had always admired Dontes. The drama of arranging an entire party, a grand ball, just to discredit the guest of honor, it was ingenious, and so cruel. He never did participate in Halloween festivities, but perhaps next year he could dress as the Count and you could go as Mercedes. He could most assuredly wrestle up some classic French inspired 1800’s dress. If not, he could ask Lilith for advice and patterns. He could make them himself.
The suicide always got to him, it was such a cowardly way to go after commiting such atrocities. It was just a speed run to get where you were already headed. Mondego never stood a chance at going to Heaven, what no one understood was that only the purest and fairest were even allowed entry. It was a stupid VIP club. If they wouldn’t even accept you, there was truly no hope left in the world.
The feeling of your skin under his hand finally registered. He wondered when you did that, it must have been sometime between the reveal, and the shame. At least you were warm, his hands had a tendency to be a bit chilly sometimes.
It was amusing to see how utterly swept he was in the film; it was an interesting film of love, loss, betrayal, adventure, and so much more. Alastor was like a child on Christmas, totally and completely brainwashed into the movie. Despite wanting to continue to watch it, you also wanted to spend time with him. You felt guilty for wanting him to touch you, guilty for breaking his attention away from the film. So you didn’t. Instead, you brought your hand back down to his, which was now laying flat against your stomach and gave it a light poke.
There was such ruin and devastation. He enjoyed the selection the film offered: financial ruin, social ruin, as well as murder. He could easily find someone in Hell to bankrupt, oh what fun that would be . He could start planning after the film. Perhaps he could bankrupt Vox, or Angel’s bruiser of a boss. He could destroy the pornography business in Hell, and then no one would have anything else to do again but murder. These sinners consumed lusty things far too often anyway, truly scandalous . If he could find love in Hell, then it was possible for anyone… Though he doubted that they could find anyone as lovely as you.
He glanced down and saw your eyes on the screen, but after he returned his gaze, he felt a gentle prod at his hand. He wrapped his fingers around your hand, and gave a squeeze. He was happy you interrupted his work. This was a nice change of pace, and the fact that you just instinctively chose one of his favorite films was an added bonus. You weren’t even aware of how well you knew him.
It made him feel warm inside.
When he squeezed your hand, you leaned back with a soft sigh. “Al,” you finally murmured, a small amused laugh falling from your lips at the fact that he didn’t understand what you were practically throwing him. You had gotten better with being less discreet in your desires; but when it came to him, you could never not be a bit nervous. Biting the inside of your cheek for a moment, you brought your attention back to the screen before blurting: “ Please touch me.”
“Darling, I am touching you! Look, he’s having a duel with his son! You just don’t get entertainment like this today!” The finale before the trial, it was just cinematically perfect and unparalleled, unless of course it was the novel.
You practically deflated; humoring him for a moment and looking at the screen. While the movie was good, no, you would never not admit that. It was a cinematic phenomenon of excellence; but you were also feeling touchy-feely, for one reason or another. With a defeated exhale, you grabbed his hand and dragged it up to your chest. There was a nervous feeling fluttering in your stomach, but it just came with the title of being his.
Valentine was an under-rated character in his opinion. She advocated for justice, no matter the personal cost, and that was even heroic to him. Because of her, Dontes and Mercedes were finally able to reunite after so much time and trouble.
As the short end credits started to flash up on the screen, Alastor turned to you with a beaming grin. “Darling! That was a lovely idea, let me know next time you want to watch a pictureshow! Didn’t you just love it!” During his excitement he had started to gesture wildly with his hands. He couldn’t wait to show you some of his other favorites, some had been forgotten by time, but not by him. He hadn’t even noticed his hand had been on your chest before he removed it from you entirely.
“It was good,” you beamed up at him gently before narrowing your eyes slightly. There was an itch that needed to be scratched. As the end credits played and doused the vicinity in quiet music; you waited until he stopped gesturing wildly before reaching up and grabbing his hand. You grumbled lightly, sinking back into him before leading his hand again to your chest. If he didn’t get it to click this time, you were going to scream.
“Alright, my little dove, I’ve got to get back to my work, but feel free to keep pursuing my collection of film.” He patted your sternum with a closed eye smile and shimmied his way to standing, letting you fall into the still warm cushions. He hummed and went back to his original seat, opening his book to where he had it opened last.
Now to get back into these shadow manipulations he’d been studying. It had been so easy to manipulate his own to almost become a separate entity, but to do so with yours was going to be a bit trickier. Your soul was far too pure to be split, so he needed to find a different method.
You were going to scream.
You huffed out as he let you fall into the cushioning, and you crossed your arms. “Al,” you called, “Come here, please.” You were going to have a conniption if he didn’t. If he didn’t, perhaps you would have to get his attention by your own hand.
“Yes, darling? What is it you need?” All the other spells he had come across didn’t seem to reach his specifications. There was a very good chance he would have to create what he needed, and that meant he would need to… borrow some of the occupants of Hell for ‘product testing.’ You probably would not be happy with the experiments he needed to conduct, but there wasn’t really a reason you needed to know anyway. Like how he never released that dog demon from his microphone. It was on a strictly need to know basis, and you just didn’t need to know.
Grumbling unhappily under your breath, you gave out a groan and sat up, peeling yourself off of the couch. If you had to be direct with him, you would. “I don’t need anything, I have everything I could possibly desire,” you said softly, walking over to where he now sat and positioning yourself behind his chair. Draping your arms around his neck, you stood on your tippy-toes and continued, “I do want you to touch me though.” Yes, you could be very blunt.
“Alrighty then.” he hummed, wrapping his spare hand around yours. You could be so silly, all you needed to do was ask.
He was holding your hand. He was holding your hand.
Apparently you weren’t blunt enough. “Like this,” you moved your free hand and unbuttoned his shirt just enough to get your hand to his flesh. You couldn’t go very far with your positioning, but you did manage to hopefully get your point across. You weren’t sure if he didn’t know or if he was just being… Alastor. “Do you understand now?” Your words were soft, inquisitive.
Alastor rolled his eyes. “I think so. I’m not a fool.” He pulled you around so he could sit you on his lap. He wrapped an arm around your waist and spread his hand over your chest, patting it noncommittally as he went back to his work. There had to be something to make his ideas become a reality. “You know, I don’t see the appeal of this, it’s rather uncomfortable, but then again, whatever makes you happy, darling.”
When you were pulled around, there was a spark of hope that fizzled out so fast when he patted you like a child. Your lip twitched. You were annoyed and horny. He didn’t understand. At his words, you twisted around in place, attempted to grab the book out of his hand and throw it across the room. “You are a fool sometimes,” you huffed. You were practically spelling it out for him.
“I suppose everyone is on occasion, darling. Could you stop fidgeting, I’m trying to read.” You were becoming so unruly, it was distracting him from his research. He was starting to use his free hand as an anchor so you would stop moving.
Didn’t you understand how important his work was?
“Alastor,” you groaned, leaning back against him. “I’m trying to seduce you.” Gosh, you had to do everything around here.
“Darling, quit joking around. You know that to seduce me all you have to do is tell me what you want. You’re just pestering me for fun.” He pecked you on your temple. You were such a funny little creature. All you ever had to do was ask it of him. He didn’t know why you even tried to be subtle.
“ I did.”
“I’m touching you, you’re going to have to be specific. You know better.” This book was useless, he was going to need another. He plucked you off his lap and placed you on the table. He needed to get to his bookshelf. OR a bookstore, he would have remembered if he had something on shadow enchantments that met his needs. “Darling, don’t move. I’m going to pop out for a moment.”
Maybe a trip to the bookstore would prove to be beneficial.
Oh, you were moving. You slipped off of the table the moment he began to walk away, silently seething over the fact that he just didn’t get it. Flexing your hand, you strode to the bedroom and released a heavy sigh. Without flipping on the light switch, you sauntered over to the mattress and fell onto his side, stripping from your pants and moving to position yourself under the covers.
Moving your undergarments aside, you released a small breathy moan when you finally began to show attention to the small bundle of nerves. Lubrication was no problem; you were already drenched. Your motions were slow, easing yourself into it, your hips moving on their own accords when you met a rhythm that made you feel like you were underwater. Floating .
Electicity running through your thighs and up your spine, cooing gently as your thoughts turned from annoyance to sickeningly sweet and dirty thoughts to accomodate the pleasure you were receiving from yourself.
By the time you brought yourself to the brink of orgasm, your whimps and gasps had grown in intensity; back arching off the bed as stars danced behind your eyes. For a moment, you believed you could see the galaxy. Oh, what you would have given to see such a beautiful sight once more.
When you came off of your pleasure high, you released a satisfied breath. Not caring for the mess you made, you curled up into his pillow and drifted off into sleep. Alastor could do it good, but you could do it better.
Chapter 10: Reindeer Games
Alastor hummed as he entered his home once more. His arms were laden with newly purchased books. It had turned out that going to the bookstore had been a wonderful idea, though it had taken longer than he had initially anticipated. He hadn’t meant to spend seven hours there, but there had been so much material he had never seen, and he needed to make sure that these books actually held the answers to his questions. What else was he to do? Rush and make a foolish error, I think not. It had never been in his character to half do anything, let alone his work.
He slipped through the door, very shadow like, even though he was indeed much more solid than his enchanted counterpart. He gently placed his newly acquired tomes on his work table, not entirely surprised that you had moved elsewhere. That reminded him, you were probably terribly upset with him, he had gotten so swept up in his research that he hadn’t picked up the clues you were throwing at him. He still was getting used to having someone crave him in such a carnal way. It wasn’t like he had lived his life very sexually in the first place, but you enjoyed such acts of pleasure.
He tapped his chin, yes he was probably in an exceedingly large amount of trouble . He definitely should have picked up a gift for you in an act of appeasement. It was a bit late for that now though. It would have to be sorted out later then, for now, he was ready for some rest.
He didn’t see any signs of you throughout the house, which made him come to the idea that you were most likely asleep. As he entered his quarters, you were sprawled out on his bed, only in your shirt and your under things. Oh, he knew what you had done. He was in deep, deep, pure, uncut, trouble.
You rarely touched yourself in such a solitary way anymore. He had abandoned his duty to you, let you sully yourself on his behalf. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. A tremble of something unpleasant rolled up his spine at the thought of displeasing you. It was morning now, he had wasted the evening away in a musty old bookshop. A deep exhale left his nose. He had made a mistake.
He would make you breakfast and hope for the best. There was little else that he knew on how to remedy this situation.
You had always been a rather light sleeper. Down in Hell, you always had to remain on your toes; lest you get caught off guard. You didn’t exactly have to worry while in Alastor’s presence, but it was an instinct that would permanently remain despite your best efforts to reduce the effects. Needless to say, your main defense in this world was your gut instinct; and when your gut instinct told you that you were being watched, you were pulled out of the gentle slumber without much warning.
The first sight to greet you was the fact that your side of the bed was empty; your form curled up into the other section of the mattress.
The feeling did not fade, and, twisting around, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Alastor standing next to you. No words left your lips until you turned around completely, pulling yourself into a seated position against the headboard and rubbing your eyes; a small yawn falling from you. “Are you-” You took a moment for your mind to catch up with the fact that you were now awake, torpor inducing confusion, “-are you watching me sleep?” You couldn’t say you would have been surprised if he had been. He was Alastor after all. Blinking tiredly, you glanced up at him with knitted brows.
You were not supposed to wake up when he had yet to get anything to give you. This left him silent for a lot longer than he originally intended. “Maybe I’m just appreciating your beauty, darling.” Now was time for him to pull out every single stop in his repertoire. He did not want to be in the proverbial ‘doghouse.’
Your blinking had slowed, eyes adjusting to the sudden change in lighting. While you had originally been annoyed, you couldn’t help but feel worried over the fact that he hadn’t slept in his own bed last night. “Did you sleep?” You questioned softly, suddenly sitting up onto your knees and attempting to grab at him with your hands in a hug. You had missed him; even if he had only been gone for a few hours, and you had been asleep through the majority of it.
“I was otherwise preoccupied. My trip was very fruitful in my endeavors.” He leaned into your hands, allowing you to wrap him in your warmth. The suppleness of your form suited how bony he was. It was always a very comforting sensation to feel your body so lusciously pressed against his.
A small hum vibrated in your throat, attempting to drag him down onto the bed again while your arms were loosely entangled around his neck. “You know you need to sleep, you stupid idiot.” Your affectionate insult was amusing, considering the words meant the exact same thing. A small smile danced across your lips, leaning back and pressing your forehead against his.
“I was far too busy to worry about such a trifle thing as sleep.” In truth, he had not really been resting very well. He was still far too worried about you in order to allow himself to. That moment where he realized you were gone, was something he never wanted repeated. He needed to figure out how to enchant your shadow, without splitting your soul. He needed you safe.
He would not rest until he could make sure of it.
But for now, he supposed he could relish in bed with you. He released some of the tension in his back, his shoulders lowering down with your soft pulls until he was laying on top of you, his head resting over the gentle thudding of your heart.
He was so heavy.
You nearly wheezed when he laid his weight on you before he moved so it was only his head listening to your heartbeat. You craned your neck to peer down at him, heart soaring at how he looked within that moment. Alastor, one of the most feared entities in this dominion of Hell, had his tender moments; and you adored each and every one of them. Bringing your hand up to his head; you traced gentle circles into his hair in an attempt to ease his worries and woes that he no doubt carried with him.
You weren’t aware of the reasoning why he worked day and night without rest, but you knew it wasn’t healthy. Even a demon needed his rest. Your breaths evened out, making mindless motions with your fingertips. “Does that feel good?” you inquired softly, eyes softening at how utterly exhausted he appeared. You couldn’t help but begin to wonder if it was because of you.
If he could have chosen one singular moment to melt into you, to combine the pure essence of self, and mix it lovingly with yours, he would have chosen now. The sweet gentle caress of your fingertips threading through his hair and the subtle rise and fall of your chest under him, was soothing. These kind motions felt more like home than any other he had been able to find. He knew it had nothing to do with time or place, nor with the age he was in his unlife, but all of this solely rested on your delicate shoulders.
“Exquisite.” It came out a rare mumble. He allowed his eyes to shut fully, nuzzling his nose into the side of your breast. Goodness, everything about you was just so soft . He surrounded himself with cushions and blankets, but none would ever be able to compete with you.
You were his favorite.
You smiled down at him, continuing your motions with tenderness and affection; subconsciously moving your hand to different places across his head to find a spot he liked the most. There was no reaction to such changes; causing you to believe any place was good. Your eyes flickered to his stumped antlers; a small breath of amusement escaping you. They were so cute. Though, you were entirely certain that the pointed ends could still poke your eye out if you weren’t careful.
“You remind me of Rudolph.” At the words that left your lips, your breaths picked up as laughter spilled from you. You weren’t even sure if he knew who Rudolph was.
If his eyes had been open, they would have narrowed. “You’re likening me to a reindeer who likely has an incurable skin disease?” The audacity you had to make such outlandish comparisons. At your laughter though, he supposed it was pretty funny, though if he heard another call him so, he would use his ‘adorable antlers’ to run them through.
“Look, look,” you giggled, bringing your finger to his chin in an attempt to get him to lift his head up. Your eyes were crinkled in amusement.
He opened his eyes solely to roll them at you. He let your finger lead his chin upwards, playing along with your foolish antics.
The moment he did, you gently grabbed his monocle and placed it on his nose. “Now you have a red nose too!” Your head fell back, tears starting to prickle at your eyes in joy. This was too good.
He wanted to leave. Whatever warm comfort he had found earlier had been replaced by mockery by the one person he could call home. He was to be homeless, abandoned . How could you be so cruel to him… In reality it really wasn’t that bad, it was just so rare for anyone to openly mock him, it felt so strange , and to have it come from you , well, in short it was a trip. Besides, it was part of his nature to be so utterly dramatic.
“Shall I make a noise for you as well, do you intend to ride me while delivering presents, shall I get a bell for my collar?” He pressed his monocled nose into yours, rubbing against you like an adoring animal would, the monocle slipping out of place from the touching, leaving him nuzzling into your laughing face while he neighed . Though, it sounded more like a pained groan than anything, because what did one of those creatures even sound like anyway?
You were losing your mind; the sound he released made your eyes begin to further tear up, joy rolling down your cheeks at the sheer fact that you would most likely never hear that sound again. “What-” You gasped loudly, body shaking from your laughter, “ what was that!?” You couldn’t breathe, each breath coming out short as you tried to control your outburst. His endearing movements made your heart burst; laughter fading into giggles, a large smile adorning your face. You brought a hand up to wipe away the tears of amusement before bringing it down to gently trail against his cheek softly, even as he nuzzled into you. A heavy sigh fell from you.
“I’m sorry,” you giggled, pressing your lips to his cheek. You weren’t sorry at all.
“Now you know how ridiculous you sound, calling me something like that. The only disease I have is under me.” He pressed a kiss to your chin, hoping you would know that you were not a disease in any case, you were a gift. He would bray, or whatever that sound had been, a thousand times to see you laugh. Who knew such cheap humor could amuse you.
Your giggles faded away, smile softening when he placed a kiss to your chin. “There’s a name for that, you know.” You lowered yourself back down into a reclined position, ultimately bringing him down with you. In doing so, you pressed a kiss to his chin in a playful manner, mimicking his movements. You had managed to subconsciously pick up different quirks in your time spent with him, but for this one, you were entirely too conscious. “Though, I wouldn’t expect you to know that,” you grinned mischievously from under him, eyes wide and innocent.
“After all, you don’t even know how to touch me properly.”
He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hadn’t exactly been prepared for how sudden it hit him. His eyes met yours, and for the first time in a long time, well, by golly, he felt sheepish. “I thought you were being fluky, darling.” He thought that you would understand by now, that if you wanted to be his lover, you had to make it abundantly clear, as in, you had to tell him point blank that you wanted to have sex with him. He would admit to himself that he was rather thick that way.
“ Nooo ,” you whisper out, “I don’t play around like that,” you sighed lightly; “Al, I want every time we do it to be special-- I don’t want you to think that you have to do something that you don’t want to do.” You reached up, tracing his bottom lip with a soft touch. “Which is why I let you go.” And not because he had already left you to go to the bookstore before you could process what had even happened (so you would forever tell yourself).
Alastor did not like the feeling that was welling up in his chest. It was uncomfortable, painful in a way. While your eyes were very kind, open, and full of honesty, for some reason they hurt him. His eyes drifted from your features to the wall. He had never been part of a relationship like this before. The cues you thought were so easy to read were like a foreign language to him.
You just didn’t realize that every single time you had been intimate with him, was special. He had never had this connection with another soul. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to, he just never really felt sexual desire like you did, but he would never be able to find the words to describe to you just what was going on inside his head.
“I believe that every time we have our trysts, each one is special. I thought you were aware that I’ve never had this type of connection with another before, or have I been unclear?” Had he done something wrong? Other than leaving you unfulfilled, because he did feel negatively about what he had done. He just wasn’t sure how to explain himself to you, and if he was even able to find the words… that you would be able to understand them.
When his words became serious, your eyes widened a fraction. “No no no no,” you whispered softly, bringing your hand to his chin and attempting to pull his attention to you again. “Alastor, you’re perfect. Everything about you is perfect, sweetheart- ” you were panicking now. Did he think you didn’t think each time was special with him? You recall your words, furrowing your eyebrows. “Every moment spent with you is special to me, I just meant that I didn’t-” You cut yourself off, mulling over what to say without fucking this up even further.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m only here for that. I-” you released a whine, stressing over your fruitless attempts. “Because I’m not, I’m here because I love you, I’m here because I want to be with you.” You were rambling now.
“Darling, I don’t question that. I just need you to know, that when you have the desire for me to be with you in such a way, you have to spell it out to me. Otherwise, I'll likely react in the way I did yesterday.” He wanted to make sure that he was able to grow from his mistakes. This being the first relationship he had ever been in, he wanted to be the best for you, and that meant learning your signs and what you wanted from sharing such desires with him.
But he would never know what those signs meant unless you told him.
He wanted you to literally tell him. It was a strange thing, to be so blunt with him when you were normally a nervous, flighty creature. You remained quiet, losing yourself into the deep pools of his eyes; heart fluttering at the sheer adoration your felt for him in that moment. “Okay,” you murmured gently, leaning your head to kiss his forehead. “Can we try this again then?” You whispered in a questioning tone. You wanted to see if he could learn you, map you out like a blueprint of the stars.
“Of course. Pleasing you, pleases me. Tell me what you desire, little dove?” He would do anything for you, let alone to you, all you ever needed to do was ask.
Your face began to burn with nervousness, “I want you to touch me.”
He wanted to scream. He needed a road map, that told him nothing. But, if he had to be creative, so be it. He lifted gracefully from your front, folding his legs so they would nestle against the outside of your thighs. His legs were on either side of yours, his back straight. He was poised before you, looking at you as if you were his favorite piece in an art museum. He shrugged off his suit jacket, peeling it from his form and tossing it aside.
If you wanted seduction, he could try.
His hands that had been so battle worn, looked striking against the pale colors you normally wore. He started low on your abdomen, his thumbs brushing below your belly button and pushing the thin article of clothing upwards to reveal such lovely skin. It was times like these he wanted to mark you.
Such pristine skin was deserving of such worship. He drew one claw in a circle around your belly, enjoying how you jerked lightly in response to his light touch. “That’s all you ever tell me.” he muttered. He brought his palms flat against you, tracing your sides, squeezing at the narrowest point in your waist, his thighs also clenched around you. “ I want you to touch me. ” he mimicked. He brought one claw up your front, catching the cloth that still barely covered you. With a few tugs, he rendered you topless, your breasts bouncing slightly from the action. “You need to tell me where .”
He watched how your nipples hardened in the exposed air, tightening under his gaze. He could definitely see why you were the fairer sex, your body was so wonderful to look at, more aesthetically pleasing. His hands were now perched under your chest, cupping your breasts from the delicate skin under, framing them in his hands. Quickly, he swooped his thumbs over your aroused buds, taking pleasure in how you sighed. “Wouldn’t it be lovely for me to touch you, just where you need me to?”
He drew one claw slowly up your neck, tracing over where he knew your arteries to be. Your lust was thick in the air, heavy with need. “Don’t you want me to learn where you want me?” His other hand slid downwards, cupping your mound in his hand and rubbing his fingers gently upwards to slide the wet fabric against your folds. “Don’t you want me to please you?”
You leaned back into the pillows, closing your eyes and rolling your hips into his hand. You nearly laughed when he mocked you, but instead relaxed against him. “But you’re-” you released an internal moan when his fingers trailed along you, successfully cutting off your words, you opened your eyes just slightly, peeking up at him through your lashes; “-you’re doing such a good job already.” You praised, breathing softly, bringing your hand to his arm, tracing gentle, soothing touches across his rough skin.
“You’re a natural,” you leaned back into the fluffy pillows, a heavy blush adorning your cheeks.
Trusting, you exposed your neck by rolling your head back against the pillows, allowing him the opportunity to literally rip your neck out if he so desired to do so. Your faith in him was staggering, closing your eyes. He wouldn’t hurt you. He never did. Nevertheless, your heart did begin to pick up in pace; whether it be because the threat his claws possessed against your jugular or because of his sickeningly sweet and uncertain touches, you weren’t entirely sure.
What you were sure of, was that no matter what he did, he managed to take your breath away every single time.
If he truly was to learn how to please you, he needed instruction. He was tempted to just start touching places that he assumed would have no effect on you, or perhaps he should just focus on places he knew would make you see stars.
He leaned back over you to place kisses over your neck. He could feel your blood throbbing through your veins, the echo of it touching his lips as he lavished you with his attentions. His lips were loosely dragging over your throat, his heated breath dancing across your skin. He couldn’t help but to place a single caring bite below your ear. He wanted just a taste. His teeth didn’t even break the skin, and he was very proud of himself.
He wanted to push his control further. He opened his mouth, hovering above you like an animal ready to strike, but instead, lightly scraped his teeth down the front of your body, leaving thin red lines in his wake. He placed these lines down the center of your chest and stopped at your precious bellybutton.
You jumped slightly at the feeling of his teeth coming into contact with your flesh; stiffening instinctively before growing lax again. When he scraped them down your body, immediate chills became alive upon your flesh. “Al, c’mere,” you breathed in sharply, reaching your hands out in an effort to lure him back up to you. You had an idea, but you weren’t entirely sure if it was a good idea.
Finally, you were telling him what to do. He could not do this alone . He pressed slow, sweet kisses back up your body in a trail from your navel back up to your chest, hovering about your sternum. “How can I help you?” He attached himself to the side of your breast, intending on leaving a large mark where none would see, but you would be reminded of him when you took your clothes off.
You were quiet for a moment, contemplating on whether to go through with it. You took a glance at his teeth, nervousness creeping up your spine before you blurted: “I want you to mark me.” You bit your lip immediately after, staring down at him as he hickeyed the side of your breast. A shuddered breath left you then, eyes lidded and absolutely turned on. Did he even know what marking was?
His ears almost flattened against his head at the stuttering sounds you seemed to be hesitant at making. Mark you? Like you were some bitch in heat? He was no wolf, but you definitely were a little lamb. “ Where ?” He would paint you like a galaxy if you asked, but he assumed you didn’t want to walk around littered and spotted with a mottled palette of blues and reds.
“Where you want. It’s your marking, isn’t it?” You wanted to be his through and through, and if you had to go through pain to do so, you would. Despite the nervousness that coiled in your gut, you explained further: “You bit me. Do it again. Make me yours.” His teeth could do damage if he was not careful, but you didn’t care. For him, you would do anything he desired and more.
He let out a deep exhale against you, his breath warming your skin before the slight chill that followed from the surrounding air. You wanted him to mark you. He could do that. His hands found yours, pinning them on either side of your head against the pillows. He kissed his way over to the base of your neck, where your shoulders met. Lips pressed heatedly against the skin there, his tongue coming out to lavish and twirl against that spot. He hoped your skin was buzzing the way his now was.
The threat his teeth brought you, made him want something dark. It was always a battle in times like this, where you wanted him to do depraved things to you, but how could he say no when you asked so prettily? He licked the edges of his teeth before carefully, and somewhat quickly, sinking his teeth into you. It would be sure to scar. At the feeling of blood meeting his lips, it was always like something snapped inside him, but he could not, would not , lose himself like that with you.
He pulled away, licking his lips as if your blood was the sweetest of wines. A steady trickle now ebbed from the mark, and whatever noises you were making were not registering to his ears. All he saw was this delicate being under him, begging for more. He cleaned you, making sure to not let a single drop of what you offered go to waste. Such divine life could not be squandered. The metallic taste filled his mouth and made his chest rumble out in a moan. His eyes were heavy under his lids. A longing squeeze to your hands reminded him that you both were not done, that there was more for you to teach him.
The pain had been nearly unbearable, nearly. But you had managed, biting your lip and drawing blood that silenced your yell. You had asked for it. He only delivered. The moment it had happened, it had ended, making your release a pained gasp before coming to the realization that the pain had been worth it. In some wicked, primal way, he had made you his in a certain degree that would never heal. At the reassuring squeeze to your hands, you let a smile adorn your now bleeding lips.
Despite the pain that nearly made your head collapse, you managed to somehow lean over and attempt to lock your lips with his. When you pulled away for a breath, a string of bloodied saliva connecting the two of you, you squint your eyes playfully, a whisper of words leaving you: “Now ‘m yours permanently.”
You looked so debauched, reaching for him with bloody lips, he would never be able to say no to you like that. Kissing you when he was two steps away from diving into bloodlust was purely divine. You both could taste yourself. He grinned against your mouth, his teeth pressing against your cheek. “As if you weren’t before.” It was sweet that you thought this is what bound you two together, as if it wasn’t how your souls forever would dance around one another in an endless waltz of time. He was yours long before, and he would be long after.
You nearly thought your heart gave out in that moment, a sharp inhale before a giggle fell from your lips, eyes crinkling at the edges as he kissed your cheek. Even you, an innocent dove, had managed to pick up some of his wacky quirks during your time spent with him; it was inevitable. No less, it made you feel closer to him. Despite a steady trickle of blood rolling down your shoulder and onto the bed, slowing now, you couldn’t help but let your eyes soften even further.
Anymore, and they would have melted straight out of your eye sockets.
“You make me feel good,” you breathed out softly in a comment, rolling your hips against his to accentuate the fact. You felt drunk off of his love, “ so good.” Perhaps it was silly with how you slurred out the words, but you couldn’t help it. You had a disease that was incurable.
“What do you want from me now, darling?” He ground his hips back down against yours, letting you feel the hardness that had grown there from both of your discretions.
“More like where,” you purred softly, grinning up at him after a moment. Your nervousness had faded away: “Between my thighs.” You were too turned on to care anymore. You had too much on.
He chuckled darkly. Now you both were getting somewhere. His hands released yours and he lifted himself slightly off your body in order to crawl over you, languidly relishing your skin in gentle nips and kisses. One mark on your skin had been enough… For now at least. You both could probably work up to more dangerous excursions into darkness in the bedroom for another time.
But for now, he was happy placing those delicious kisses against your skin. When he had finally reached your mound, and the thin cloth covering it, he felt a bit devilish. He pressed his mouth openly to your folds, and sucked. By Satan, you were divine . He growled against you, his hands seeking refuge on your hips, his thumbs pressing into the apex of your thighs, spreading you open for him.
You never told him to take off your panties.
He pressed his tongue to that precious nub of yours through the fabric, rolling it hotly against the flat of his tongue. With the way your hips were now rolling up into his mouth, he figured he was doing something right. He took careful notice to the places just around your sweet spot, trying to figure where made your hips jerk, what made your muscles clench, what made your channel throb . He wanted to break you with his mouth. Just when he thought he had found what you liked, what made you whimper , he slid his tongue downwards, pressing your underwear into yourself. If only you would tell him to take the damn thing off.
You were just as annoyed as he was with it, and by god were you more than happy to oblige. When he pressed the fabric into you, you supposed it was a silent question. “Take them off.”
He didn’t even have a smart remark to make. He bit the elastic and ripped them off with his teeth. With your essence so closely— he didn’t know that seeing you so intimately would be so erotic . He liked watching how wet you were, how your body glistened with want. It was especially flattering how you were throbbing for him to be inside you. He could answer such a silent cry.
He slid his cheek over your thigh, splitting your folds with his tongue, gathering all of that saccharine delight on his tongue. You might have been the only sweet he would ever enjoy. He was careful of his teeth, and what he lacked in experience, he made up for in his observant qualities and his enthusiasm.
He was devouring you like he had at your shoulder, his tongue was mapping you out, pressing and rolling around your precious clit, and dipping deep into you to try and curl upwards on that spongy bit inside you. You were positively over-flowing into his mouth and he was tempted to slurp up every bit of you, but he figured such a noise would embarrass you… so he did it anyway, taking pleasure in how your thighs shook around his head.
Oh, the pleasure of being filled in a different way. His tongue engorged you, rolling and audibly inducing lewd sounds in the room. Your hand had reached down to grab at his head, keeping him locked in place as you chased after the sweet nirvana he so delicately made you feel. Cooes and moans fell from your lips, whispering his name like a broken record as if it would bring you the release you had desperately needed. You had been proven wrong. His tongue could do it better.
He enjoyed this, making your body quiver with need. He flexed his hands on your thighs, still wary of his claws. He doubled down on his efforts, focusing solely on the pearl of nerves that sat above your entrance. He tried to wrap his tongue around it, but in this form, he was more man than demon.
Nonetheless, he started to growl into you, the vibrations from his throat rolling up his tongue and around where you needed him most. His tongue never let up, and continued to sweep across you in such a steady pressure. All those notes he had made earlier in his head were coming in handy, because he took his time to focus on all of them, even bringing over his thumb, to pinch you lightly, delicately, pleasurably. He could feel the blood under your skin quicken, and the muscles and tendons under his hands tense and shake. The feeling of you coming apart, being unwoven by his tongue, had his hips rutting into the bed under him. You had no idea how your natural inclinations had him so wound up.
He would never tire of the feeling of you cumming into his mouth.
Heat swarmed over your skin, tingling through your body like a wonderful storm. Sweat was starting to gather at your lower back and you hadn’t noticed when your throat had started to go dry from your heaving breaths. When Alastor finally let up on you, you slumped back down into the blankets and cushions, unaware that your body had been so tense before. With all that pleasure, and yet you still craved more from him .
“Alastor,” You panted out, hand coming up to your face to wipe the sweat on your forehead. “Do you, I mean, are you ready to, um,” Geez, why was it so hard for you to ask your boyfriend to have sex with you.
Now that he was wholly aware of what you wanted, these were signs he truly was able to easily read. “Of course, little darling.” With a snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone, sent somewhere else until he would have use of them again. He slid himself back up your body, hovering over you.
He admired the darkening of your cheeks as you blushed, and how your chest still heaved trying to breath so deeply, breasts bouncing. Your hair was splayed prettily around your head as if it were a halo. It was only times like these where he missed real sunlight, he could only imagine the lovely hues that would be illuminated by the natural light. He pressed his forehead to yours, fully intending to take his time with you.
Your body was still trembling under him. There was an openness to the moment that you didn’t want to break with words. His eyes were flicking over your face and you knew he was tracing every detail of you, cataloguing this moment to memory. It made your eyes turn misty, the dedication he would show, the love he would never admit aloud. He never failed to show it though, and for that you were eternally grateful. You rose your palm, cupping his cheek in your hand, sliding your skin over his.
You closed your eyes, not being able to stand much more of this delicate intimacy. Even the way he was gently resting his hips against yours, slowly rutting himself through your folds to ease his entry, everything Alastor was doing on top of you was so gentle.
He rolled his hips slowly, pulling back just enough to hook himself into you, slipping in bit by bit, allowing you to adjust to his girth. You were always so unbearably hot in times like these. It amazed him how warm and welcoming your body was in times like these, and just how deep he would be able to feel you. Your body was filled with wonder, the way your walls would flutter around him, pulling him in deeper. It was so lewd, he felt his own cheeks redden in response to your body.
He dropped his head forward, coming face to face with your pert nipples. He was gently rocking into you, and still your body offered him more. He licked his lips before sucking a tender bud into his mouth, suckling at your chest.
You whined, trying to thrust your hips upwards. He was being so sweet, and so calm while he split you open. You didn’t really ever think there would come a time that you would be used to the heat that would sear you from the inside out, the passionate waves that would roll over your skin as he brushed against every spot you never knew you had. His lips wrapping around one of your nipples had been a welcomed surprise though, you felt pleasured tingles run up your spine and make you feet clench.
You gasped out a breath, these feelings were all consuming. He was all consuming . A blanket of pure unadulterated pleasure was swallowing you whole, and you were ready for it.
You brought your legs up to wrap around his slender waist, trying to gain some semblance of control. You wanted this harder, faster. You weren’t even sure if you would be able to handle it at this point.
Your lovely legs wound around his waist, clinging to him like vines. He brought one hand down to hold you by your thigh, keeping you steady. The sweat that now clung to your bodies made everything he did feel so, slippery . He knew what you wanted, he could already feel your velvety walls squeezing him tight. He pulled from your chest, scared he might bite you. You were already so close, but he didn’t want to rush this. He wanted you to feel every bit of pleasure he was happy to give you. The way he could make your thighs shake and your calves tremble. He wanted to curl your toes and make sure you were thrashing your head back into the pillows before he would be done with you.
If he would ever be done with you.
You were so frustrated, you were right on the precipice, ready to fling yourself over the edge. This was one of the slowest rising orgasms you had ever experienced with the man, and it was maddening. You neck was jerking around madly, hair mussing behind you with your unruly actions. There was just so much heat, his cock was so warm, and the way he was just dragging against your walls so carefully was making your hands fist into his sheets, trying to hold onto some semblance of sanity.
“Alastor, please.” You weren’t even sure what you were asking for. “Please.” Your voice didn’t even belong to you as it met your own ears. When had you ever sounded so broken?
Alastor’s back curved over you. If he were to change anything right now, he knew he would lose all control of himself. You were like a flower that had opened up just for him, a beautiful nymph who came to the sound of his music alone. He did not want to break you. But he could feel cracks developing in his self control. He felt his hips twitching of their own accord, plunging into you a bit to hard, his hand grasping your thigh with more force than was necessary.
“Fuck me.” You didn’t care anymore, if he wanted you to tell him what you wanted, then you were going to.
Hearing such filth fall from your lips made him lose the last ounces of self restraint he had. His hips snapped into you, and he heard you choke from the action. He hoped you felt him in your throat. He was going to fill you up with everything he had. Drew himself upwards, settling his weight onto his knees. He grabbed your legs, folding them up against your chest so you would be in a ball. He couldn’t hear any protest, so he moved off the bed to gain traction, dragging you over his silken sheets so he could fuck you in comfort.
You had never felt so small, being so manhandled. Alastor was already so much bigger than you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. His touch had suddenly turned so forceful, his claws cutting into your skin. It wouldn’t be the first time he had left you in a bloody pile of pleasure, you were positive it wouldn’t be the last. You were focused on trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs as possible. You whined as he dragged you back over to him, only to gasp when he filled you once more, thrusting into you with earnest now. He was pounding himself into you, and your arousal was drowning you. You had never been one to be able to get off with only this type of stimulation, but you didn’t think you had ever been so ready for him before.
Your whole body felt like it was on vibrate and with every single one of his punishing thrusts you were reaching a new high. A galaxy was constructing itself just behind your eyelids, and you were ready to see it implode. Your thighs were clenching, and your back was becoming tense once more. His cock was filling you up, and you were positive you would never feel this whole ever again.
Then, when his hips rammed into yours, sliding briefly over your clit before starting it all over again, rapture befell you. Heaven would not have been able to compete with Alastor in that moment. Heated tingles flooded your nerves, waves of chills spread over your skin, butterflies were swarming in your stomach, and your head was lost in a sea of hormones as orgasm swept through your body like a tidal wave.
That galaxy had burst inside you, painting you in all sorts of pleasure.
Alastor felt such pride sweep through him as he saw you unravel on his sheets. The way your limbs reached out only to grasp his sheets, your legs clenching tight as his chest rested on them, and the way your channel locked around him, refusing to let him go, forcing him over into his own release, as he brought his hands up to cradle your flushed face.
He swept his thumbs under your eyes, gently urging your legs down from their cramped position with his hips. He pulled from your body as he softened, pulling you both back to the center of the bed. He wrapped one arm around you and rested one hand on your hips, he wanted to trace his hands over you for eternity.
You were shuddering from the power of your orgasm, only too happy to let him take care of you. Whatever feelings you had before about him leaving you high and dry were long gone. He had more than made up for it with what he had just given you. As he thumbed your cheeks, subsequently pulled you closer, you knew deep down inside that there would be no other person, no demon, or otherwise, that would be able to make your body sing like he did.
“Was that satisfactory?” He whispered, snapping his fingers, causing the blankets to bundle you both up. He pressed his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes, allowing bliss to fill his body.
“That was perfect.” It had been intense, full of passion, emotion, and only the finest of pleasures.
But then again, you wouldn’t expect anything less from a reindeer of such high caliber.
Chapter 11: Shall we Dance?
Just sharing a dance with a demon~
This was not supposed to happen. Hell was supposed to be where irredeemable people went, people who had lost all sense of morality and had no moral compass whatsoever. Or at least, that’s what you had initially thought. You had a tendency to change your mind when presented with the absolute bullshit standards Hell had. There were nuns down here, you had met them, and they had even more right to be pissed about their situation.
You hadn’t been a nun whilst you were alive, no. You had been an average person, hard working, fun-loving, nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing you did, that you thought hadn’t even been that bad in truth, but there were very strict rules in Heaven apparently. The reason you had been denied entry, was infuriating.
It wasn’t even your average pre-marital sex where it was quick and dirty and you never saw the person again, nope, you had ended up marrying the person. Though you hadn’t found out until after the wedding that you had married a succubus. It was even later that you found out he had been injecting parts of his soul into you via his sperm, the bastard. It wasn’t even that great, he was the worst succubus ever because he had been such a needy bottom that left you to do all the work.
You had been thoroughly screwed and you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You know, except being sent to Hell for the rest of eternity. Waking up and realizing where you were had not been the most pleasant thing in your opinion, but you weren’t exactly quiet about your discoveries either. No, all the rage you had pent up during your life had exploded into a maelstrom of shouting, cursing, and subsequently, damning.
And the worst part of it all, was that it was an arranged marriage. You hadn’t even had the choice in the matter.
Though, you would say, from your emotional pyrotechnics something rather splendid did occur. You had done something that was supposedly very difficult, though you would have to take others words on that one considering your personal circumstances. You had attracted the attention of the Radio Demon.
Little did you know that he found your blatant anger and rage very entertaining, as well as breathtaking. He had seen many demons who had thrown very ridiculous temper tantrums. Sometimes they would even level a portion of the block in their outrage. But you, oh you were something special. Instead of causing anyone else damage, or anything, you just shouted out all of your thoughts, as if you were calling out God on his decision making process. Wrapped up in your own emotional turmoil, you would aim your head up to the sky, the red color making your skin glow. It was as if you were basking in the flames of Hell and he had never seen a more lovely sight, than you shouting up into the heavens, angry with God and all he had done to wrong you.
If God had been able to hear you, Alastor was sure you would have gotten his attention with the creative insults and stories you were spewing. Some of them were too personal and detailed to be just stories though. If he had been in your position, he would have been shouting as well. As it were, he had earned his spot in Hell fair and square. It seemed murder had a tendency of doing that down here.
Regardless, after that awe inspiring rampage, he had taken you under his wing. Surely someone who had such breath rendering anger would be filled to the brim with entertainment. It had been one of the best decisions he had ever made.
Now of course, that had been many years ago. You had died in the fifties, and you were to remain ever upset about the facts that sent you to hell.
You were pouting, still.
“Darling!” Alastor spun into the room with such gusto. Normally his antics never failed to make you smile, but you were feeling a little off since the latest extermination. It was always so gruesome, you didn’t think you ever would really get used to how limbs would be strewn about the streets. It was always so messy, and ooh boy was it bloody.
You heaved out a sigh. “Yes honey?”
“What has you so blue? Shall I redecorate whoever made you feel this way?” Immediately, his hands were on your shoulders, lifting you from your seat so he could wrap an arm about your waist. “We could paint the town with their remains?” The sing song of his voice had a smile cracking over your face, as did the way his arm swept through the air like he had truly been painting.
“You don’t have to go to such extremes for me. I’m still pissed that God is a prick.”
Alastor let out a hearty laugh. You never failed to make him happy with your witty retorts and phrases. You truly were so amusing. He was incredibly fond of you, of course, that’s why you were his after all. He very well couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself after he had seen the controlled rage you were capable of, no, like any sensible demon, he saw something, or rather, someone he wanted, and he took you. In his eyes, you were rightfully his. He was lucky that you found that statement charming.
“Oh darling, it isn’t all bad. If it weren’t for his impossible rules, I’d have never had the pleasure of meeting you. I believe that’s what the kids call, a win-win.” He placed himself in front of you, slipping his arm downward to cradle you by your lower back, using his free hand to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your endearing smile.
“Oh? You make it sound like you love me or something.” You teased, knowing full well that he had never, or never would again, love someone like he did you. The thought had your arms wrap around his thin waist, your chin settling onto his ribs. Sometimes you worried about whether he ate enough. He was always so skinny. You had once made the comment that you worried about him in such a way, which only made him eat in front of you. It was like he was trying to let you know that he was just a natural string bean.
The way your eyes closed made his heart flutter. No longer was he a cold hearted lonely monster, now he was a cold hearted monster, with a soulmate… And he wasn’t all too cold hearted when it came to you either. In fact, he found he was rather soft. You made him so. But that was the end of his list. He held no qualms with extinguishing any demon that even looked at you with a questioning glance. There was no threat he was unwilling to douse when it came to you. He had made sure that everyone in hell knew it too. His second series of broadcasts had been oh so exciting because of it though.
He had enjoyed the screams even more, knowing that they had been fools that had displeased you.
“Or something indeed.” His chipper voice was so delightful, you enjoyed how it would rumble over your skin when you were this close to him. His hand slipped further down, grasping the back of your neck, urging you ever closer to him. “Shall we dance?” The question buzzed through the static, and you felt your fingers clenching his suit jacket in your hands, the worn fabric smoothing over your skin. Your body was relaxing into his hold, it was all so familiar and filled with comfort.
“Only if we can sway like this.” There were times where your tenderness truly touched him. No, he found it was utterly impossible to be heartless when it was obvious that you had stolen the organ from him.
You were such a clever little morsel. It was a shame really, he definitely could have eaten you, and you surely would have tasted divine. It seemed you were only to be feasted upon in a much more pleasurable way.
“Of course.” His arms relaxed over you, sometimes you swore he summoned extra tentacles just to make sure he could feel all of you against him. Which is exactly what he did do, because you always felt so exquisite when you were flush against him.
Music started to play around you both, cocooning you in sweet melodies. He hummed, the sound was deep in his chest and it made your entire body vibrate. He picked you up, only briefly, just to place you onto his feet.
“Alastor, I’m not a toy.” The comment was bemused, though he checked to make sure your eyes were indeed, still closed. Your weight was always something that brought him comfort.
“I am well aware. It’s not my fault you are just, so painfully short.” he teased.
“Oh shut up. As I was saying, you don’t have to do this, you absolute madman.” His arms squeezed around you, reminding you just that. He never had to do anything he didn’t want to do. This mad man had stolen all your sanity, all you had room for now, was him. Strangely enough, it fit so well in your life that you should find someone so utterly in love with you after your untimely death.
I mean, if your soul hadn’t been injected with demon spawn, you never would have met him in the first place. You supposed it was time for you to be grateful for your time here… for your time with him.
“You make me happy.” You weren’t sure if he could hear it or not, but he heard a lot more than he ever alluded to. He would never tell you, but he listened to almost everything you had ever said. Your voice was calming in the center of the storm, but it was also rousing, like his favorite novel. There were things about you he would never be able to fully understand simply because he couldn’t fathom parts of your being. You could be so understanding and patient, and other times eternally angry at the ways people in Hell had been wronged.
Your passion fueled his own.
He would adore you for as long as you would allow him, and probably after as well. Because, he never planned on letting you go. But then again, you would never deny him. He was everything to you. And you were glad for it.
It lead to moments that were so tender and sweet. Moments like these where he would sway around his home with you on his feet, his shadow and tentacles keeping you pressed eternally against him simply because he couldn’t feel enough of you against him at once.
You let out a deep exhale through your nose, burying your face into his suit. Maybe you could stand to get over your eternal stay in Hell… At least for now.
Chapter 12: Knocking Him Down a Peg
Angel had gotten you a gag gift, but he hadn't thought you would actually use it.
Alastor could be so smug about the way you felt about him sometimes. He would occasionally, and though it might have been occasional did not mean it was not relentless, taunt you with your own feelings of desire. He would tease you with himself mostly, unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt, removing his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves. There had been a time he even snapped his suspenders just to get you riled. And while it wasn’t his fault, per se, he knew the effect he had on you when he behaved in such a manner. Especially by the way his eyes would meet yours and he would smirk blatantly. One time, he had even bent over and shook his adorable backside in your face, his tail had swiped over your cheek and you had been steaming over it ever since.
The way he acted made you think he didn’t feel the same way, that he wasn’t as easily tormented by your own acts of seduction, but you would have to remind yourself he always indulged your every whim. When you would come to him, scantily clad in some lingerie you had daringly purchased, asking for his attention and his body, he had never denied you. He had always settled you sweetly over his lap and kissed you like you were the only person in existence. The demon was utterly besotted when it came to you and your wants. It was one of the reasons you were hopeful he would be open to you, in more than one way, when you came to him with a specific request.
You wanted to be inside of him.
Angel had got you a gag gift, joking about you finally getting to “fuck that strawberry bastard”. You had nearly started creaming yourself at the thought of finally being able to really give it to him after all the bullshit he would say to you. You knew he cared about you, but, there were times his careless words got to you.
You wanted to stuff this fake cock down his throat and watch him choke on it. The thought had a pleased blush spreading over your cheeks. Now you just had to ask. It was the real nerve wrecking part of the ordeal.
You checked over yourself once more. You were currently wearing a fitted dress, one of his favorites. He had told you once how he thought the style had looked so dashing on you. The off the shoulder sundress was well made, and in the deepest of reds. Alastor always adored seeing you in his colors. This time should be no different. You wiped away an imaginary speck of dirt from the plush skirt and nervously made your way to where he spent a surprising amount of his time.
He loved reading, and books were never in short supply down in Hell. When he heard the click clack of the short heels you had adorned, you saw his ears twitch, his head swiveling to get a better look at you.
“Well, don’t you look like the belle of the ball!” He shut his book, placing it on the small table that resided next to him. He pat his thighs in welcome and you happily draped yourself over them.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” You started, shyly slipping your hand over his chest to fiddle with his lapel.
“And what does my little chickadee need to speak with me about?” He knew his teasing got to you more times than not. But he hoped you understood that it was just because you were absolutely breathtaking when you would blush. Sometimes it was the only way to see that lovely shade of color cross your features. He gently cupped your cheek in his hand, careful to delicately cradle your precious face.
“There’s something I want to try, something I want to do to you, with you and it would,” Your face heated up at the thought and at how your words were finally coming out into the open. You took a deep breath trying to steel your nerves. “It would make me so happy if I could do this.”
Alastor hmm’ed in response at first, curiosity taking over his features. You wanted to do something to him. Immediately delicious scenarios flashed in his mind. His sexual prowess had been exponentially amplified when he met you. He found he only really enjoyed such carnal acts of pleasure if they were shared with you. He always appreciated just how open you were with him when it came to satisfying your needs and wants. You never hid anything from him, and he trusted you all the more because of it.
“What is it exactly you wish to do to me?” He was open to many possibilities, and if he got to see how your face darkened because of it, it was merely a bonus to the things you were willing to share with him.
You nestled your mouth into the center of his palm, kissing that part of his hand. It was another one of the things you adored about him. He reserved judgement until you were finished, though it was nerve-racking on occasion, it always helped to get you to open up fully about what you were trying to tell him. You closed your eyes briefly, the sight of his close-lipped smile and gentle gaze becoming too much for you.
“I want to be inside you.” You had said only loud enough for him to hear, and as you opened your eyes you saw how his eyes darkened, pupils dilating at your admission.
“How are you going to do that?” His voice had dropped an octave, deepening at the scandalous idea. The thought of having you inside him was absolutely irresistible to him. He slipped his free hand to your side, wanting to feel your curves under his hand as you told him more of these beautiful ideas of yours.
“Angel got me a present. I think he thought it would never get any use, but I want to try it out with you.” Your words came out slower than you were used too, as they were heavy with want, and with nerves. Because he had seemed interested, you were more easily able to share just what was on your mind, though it was still a bit embarrassing.
“And the gift is?”
“It’s a strap on.” He wasn’t all that caught up on these new fangled devices. He furrowed his brows together, signaling to you that he needed more of an explanation on the matter.
“It would allow me to be inside you, give me my own cock to finally fuck you with.” You were red at the words that were slipping from your lips, but you were also inexplicably horny as well. The images that were being conjured up in your head were just so lovely. You wanted to claw your fingers down his back, leave your own marks on his skin as he had done so many times to you.
“Is that all?” This sounded wonderful. You would be able to be inside him, allowing him the insight to just how you would feel. At the prospect of understanding and experiencing more from your point of view, he was sold. He had the aching desire to know you from the inside out, he wanted to feel what you felt when he was inside you, to experience the pleasure that would blush across your skin and make your mouth drop open as you cried out for him. That, and he got to have you inside of him , oh, it was too good to be true! “I think it sounds wonderful. When do you want to do this?”
“I…” You started. “I didn’t think I’d get this far.” You admitted, that lovely blush still flushing your features. You curled your fingers into his lapels, trying to keep your balance on him as you tried to continue to form coherent thoughts. “I suppose whenever is best for you?”
The face you were making, was absolutely beautiful. Your eyes were downturned , your bottom lip pursed, and it made your lashes look stunning. You looked sublime, there were times he had to remind himself that you were his. Such a fact still stunned him to silence on occasion. Though he figured right now should not be one of those times, as he could feel himself stirring in response to your sheer loveliness.
“How do you want me, darling?” He pulled your body flush to his, pressing the side of your thigh into his abdomen, and tilting your head up so those endearing eyes could look into his.
Heat thrummed through your veins at his words and you felt your throat go dry. This man, this demon, this… perfect mess before you was surely going to make you faint with how often he made the blood rush from your face and straight to your groin.
“You’re aiming for a punishment with how you’re talking, buddy.” You sneered playfully. It had come out lacking all the force you had wanted to have, but he merely hummed in response to you.
“Sounds like fun, shall I go ready myself then?” Alastor smirked out, walking his fingers up your thigh.
A chill ran up your spine, just as your fingers flexed on his lapels. You were tempted to rip his stupid coat. It wasn’t fair that he could make you lose yourself so easily. Your eyes trailed down his body as if it were your first time ever truly seeing him so close. You bit your lip and pulled it between your teeth. “Yes,” you practically purred. You had to do the same, after all. Slowly, your index finger ran beneath his chin as you leaned in and brushed your lips against his.
He hummed against your lips, refraining from deepening the action, as it would only prolong the time from such… advanced activities, and he was beside himself with want. “Shall we then?” He rose, easily, and with a grace that you sometimes felt was misplaced in such a chaotic being.
You slid off of him easily enough, stretching out as if to get ready for the marathon of your life. Heading towards the closet while he got himself settled was one thing, but actually figuring out how to put the harness on was another. Never in your life had you ever wore such a thing, and yet, here you were.
Ready to go to pound town. You ran your fingertips over the leather before hesitantly grazing the silicone.
And then you figured it out, your skin buzzing with desire, nervousness, and all sorts of butterflies in your tummy. Well, here goes nothing. Stepping out of the walk-in closet, hands on your hips, you gazed at him.
He was resting on his side, across the width of the bed, his eyes already set on you. He had one hand supporting his head while the other was lying on the curve of his side, completely nude, and already painfully hard, just waiting for you. “I assumed you were going to tell me how you want me, dear.”
“Oh.” Your confidence was out of the door for a moment, and your arms fell from your hips, your blush intensifying as a giggle fell from your lips. “Well, stand up.” You began, “And then bend over.” You took a step forward.
His eyes widened for a moment before a rather enticing grin spread over his features. “This suits you, darling.” He hadn’t realized that he enjoyed being ordered around by you this much, and the confidence you exuded when you did so was intoxicating. His erection twitched before he moved and his smile never faltered as he moved into position for you. He stood, and after he bent over, shook his tail at you while looking over his shoulder. “Like this?”
You rose a brow, unamused and took the few steps forward that you needed to in order to reach him. When you were right behind him, you bent over and gave him a swift, but firm, slap on his ass. “That’s perfect.” You grinned. “Can you be good for me?” A shadow cast over your face as you dragged your fingertips over his skin; your nails catching the fur of his tail teasingly.
“That depends on how good you are to me , darling.” He shuddered under you, and you just knew… He was going to be a bratty bottom.
You grabbed his tail, then, tightly, raking your nails through the fur almost painfully at this point. “Sorry, what was that?” You replied sweetly, and if he had looked back, he would have seen you bat your eyelashes at him.
He hissed through his grin, a shock of pleasure thrumming up his spine from your grasp on his tail. “Was I not speaking clearly, my sweet, shall I speak up?” He wanted more of this, more of you, when you were like this. Intoxicating, and so drunk on power, he adored seeing such a lamb in a state.
You sneered at him, almost baring your teeth. “Depends if you want a tongue in the morning.”
He hadn’t meant to, but he let out a groan from your words. At the promise of torture, he felt his blood boil. His hips had bucked forward without his say so, so used to you being under them, but no, you weren’t and there was nothing to give him any relief from the pleasure of your words. “Of course, darling. Whatever you wish.” He’d let you rip him apart, if that’s what you wanted. Oh, to have you carve your name into his skin, just making your very own scars on his skin, it was a delirious thought.
“Good boy.” You hummed, raking your nails through his tail once more, lighter, gentle. He could be good. Bringing your other hand up, you brushed your hair out of your eyes and released him from your grip. Strolling over to the left bedside drawer, you knelt down and rummaged through the belongings, only to pull out a dark bottle. Your eyes lit up. That’s what you were looking for. Your heart rate had picked up as you spun back around, tapping your fingers on the plastic.
And then you walked back over to him, not even offering him a single glance, the smallest of hums toying on your lips in a manner you had noticed him do so many times.
He was still in the same position, which was good for him because if he hadn’t been-- well, that was another story for another time. Returning to his backside, you combed his tail fluff up and away, opened the cap, let some of the cold lube fall upon your palm in which you lathered your fingers completely.
Without warning of the chilliness or the intrusion, you bit your lip, grinned, and plunged your middle finger into him, just as you released a rather loud and dramatic yawn as if it were just so boring. Even though on the inside, you were vibrating with excitement. Finally, after so long, so many years, you were finally inside him, like he had been with you so many times. You were thrilled, to say the least.
He jolted forward, completely surprised at the sudden coldness that slid over his skin and slipped inside of him. His mouth dropped open in that surprise. It felt strange, at first. But as you maintained contact with him, the chilliness gave way to warmth, and the discomfort didn’t feel so extreme. He let out a drawn out sigh, shutting his eyes and pushing back onto your hand for more contact.
You pulled out of him at that. Tutting. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
His eyes opened, at that. “What do you want of me, darling?” He could play nice, because what you were offering him was so sweet. At the chance of a new experience with you, he could do what you wanted.
“ Your submission.” You hissed.
“Of course,” You continued, dousing your fingers in another drop of lube, before you moved forward again and then entered him with two fingers. “You don’t have much choice.” You felt exhilarated, your lips curling, the heat between your thighs turning into a sticky mess just at the fact of everything that was happening.
Without giving him much time to adjust to the added intrusion, you picked up the pace.
Alastor jerked forward once more, his back arching away from you. The scarred skin of his shoulders shifted over his muscles and sinew in such a pretty way. You enjoyed watching him writhe under you, as you worked him open. Beads of sweat were starting to gather around his neck, sliding down his spine in shining rivulets. He was biting his lips, trying not to speak, lest you turn this pleasure into something else, though he had a feeling it would be equally as tantalizing.
There was some sort of fire stoking within him at your motions. Never had he felt something so different, so strange, so fulfilling as you massaged and rocked him from the inside. This was something he would eagerly do again. If you only craved his submission so you could do such entrancing things to him; he would happily bend over for you anyday.
You slowly added another finger, not jamming it in this time, but giving him time to get used to it. “Tell me how it feels.” You said, leaning over him just slightly. “How it feels to have me inside of you just like you’ve been inside of me so many times. How it feels to have my fingers,” You curled them, finally pressing into that spot that would make him beg for you.
“Curled into you.” You trained your eyes on his expression.
His jaw dropped, and his knees buckled, his chest hitting the mattress. Strangled breaths were spilling over his lips, his eyes wide, dazed, as they searched for something to focus on as these sharp, rolling waves of pleasure ripped up his bones and nerves. That slow burn turned into a wildfire, and it shot up his spine with the intensity of a bullet. Such intense pleasured pain.
“Tell me.” You curled your fingers even more rubbing them slowly against that precious bundle of hidden nerves, “Or I won’t let you cum.”
He wasn’t even sure if you were speaking english right now, let alone if he even remembered anything that would properly express whatever glorious feelings were thrashing through his body. But one word came to mind: “Hot.” He gasped out, his throat suddenly dry. He hadn’t realized he had been gasping for breath. “It feels, too hot, and my skin, it’s,” He paused and swallowed, hoping some of his sanity would return from wherever you sent it.
When he didn’t continue, you leaned closer to him, slowing your pace. “What was that?” You were practically dripping on the floor at this point.
“I think I’m falling apart.” He forced out, through gritted teeth, his claws sinking into the bed, trying to find some sort of balance in this now tempestuous world he was being catapulted through. He had never felt the like before, and if he wasn’t careful, he could very well become addicted to such pleasures.
You giggled. “But that’s not allowed! You can’t fall apart on me!” A gasp then, as you pulled your fingers out, without giving him the release he so desperately craved. If you were going to do this, it was going to be your way. “Tell me…” You murmured, grabbing the silicone cock and lathering it in lube, your eyelids hooded. “What is it that you want, Alastor?”
He was gasping into the duvet. He didn’t care anymore about keeping up ridiculous pretenses. He was exhausted, he was exhilarated, in equal parts. But most importantly, “I’d like you to be back inside me.” He turned with all his strength, and craned his neck to look back at you. “I’d very much like to have you and your new toy back inside me, darling.” It was a tired grin that remained visible upon his face.
You nearly came on the spot from those words. A shaky breath escaped your lips, as you grinned back at him. You felt so warm and buzzed off of his love; his submission, the way he inquired. But you wanted more. You wanted him to beg. “Beg for me.” You were high off of power.
“Darling, please, allow me the honor. It would be much more than a pleasure, I assure you.” He wriggled his backside, trying to edge closer to you.You nearly let out a laugh. Compared to how you begged, he begged like a gentleman.
“What a good boy.” You murmured, bringing your ‘toy’ to his entrance and rubbing it a few times so he could get used to the feeling. Despite being drunk off of power, you still loved him, and you didn’t want to hurt him. Your motions had grown softer, your fingertips threading gently through his tail. “...My good boy.” And then, you began to push into him, exceedingly slow.
His thighs clenched and his back made that teasing arch again as he felt you easing into him. This felt different. He felt more full, or rather, felt the promise of fullness. He pulled in his elbows, trying with all his might to keep his head on proper, and this way, he was sure you would better hear the noises he was assuredly going to be making.
You watched in admiration and awe as the toy entered him, his body quite literally sucking it in. For the briefest of moments, you wondered if this was how it felt to be him, so high off of power and the intensity of arousal as he watched himself slip inside of you. But you were now the one slipping inside of him , and that made you bite your lip. Hard. To not release a moan from the sight alone.
When you reached the half-way point, you stopped, and let him adjust.
Alastor’s head dropped. He was panting, his shoulders and back heaving in the efforts of keeping calm, but those lovely little heated gasps, continued to leave his lips. You were honed in on his reactions; ensuring that what you were doing wouldn’t hurt him. Surely if it did, he would tell you. But you knew he needed time to adjust, and that was something you were willing to give him.
You brought your hand up and rested it on him, a silent indication that you were still here and that when he wanted you to continue, he would tell you. You could see his thighs quivering, his tail twitching, and the way that his hips had just begun to rut into the duvet, his heated gasps filling the room. You guessed that was more than what you could have asked for, and you continued to enter him until you found yourself hilted. Once again, you would wait. Let him process it.
Let him feel you.
A strangled moan tore through the atmosphere of the room. He could feel the chill of the leather and the warmth of your skin, your hips, pressing into his skin. Then he could feel that stretch of fullness inside him, pressing sweetly on spots of pleasure he was unaware of possessing. His eyes slipped shut, trying to focus on one sensation, but it was so much. It was an overwhelming type of pleasure and though it was overwhelming, he did feel greedy because he wanted so much more of it.
“Darling, please .” He sounded weak in a way you had never heard him use before, and it had a blush spread heavily over your cheeks, and heat fall over your neck.
“Please what?” Your lips curled at the edges. That was the type of begging you had been in search of this entire time. You slowly pulled out of him.
“Please, give me more of you, this is,” He gasped in a breath, his fingers and claws ripping into your blankets. “This is exq-”
Before he could continue, you snapped your hips and thrust back into him in one smooth motion.
His shoulders tensed and another gasp left his throat as you rocked back into him. He was sure to lose all sense of himself by the time this was over. He wasn’t even sure where he was anymore. He was living in a cloud of pleasure where only you and he existed.
Your thrusts were shallow, getting used to the motion in itself, and to say the least, you felt a bit self conscious on not knowing how to do it correctly. Though, the longer you continued, the more confident you felt within yourself, and the more you were able to give him.
Your fingertips grasped harshly at his skin, your other hand coming up the brush away your hair from out of your eyes, as a thin sheen of sweat had begun to shroud your throughout your body. There was a moment of uncertainty, before you said ‘fuck it’, brought your hands down to his hips, and attempted to pull him into you. If he wanted to be fucked, then god damn it, he was going to be fucked .
Your thrusts grew quicker and harder.
He felt himself being pulled and he went limp in your hands. Your grip was firm, unyielding and secure as you slipped into him over and over again. He was unaware of the gasping moans that continued to leave him with each time you bottomed out inside him. His head was hanging, bobbing in place with each of your thrusts.
Your nails began to dig into him, deeply. You trailed your hands up his lithe body, just as you bent over him, allowing yourself to drape. It was a lot easier to move this way as well, your heated face and skin buzzing with excitement.
With each thrust, your enthusiasm overcame your lack of experience in this sort of field, and you gave into your desires once and for all. Leaning up to his ear, you hissed out: “You look so good when I fuck you.” Your nose crinkled, dipping your head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, only to sink your teeth into his flesh.
Alastor whined, he whined! The only thing that had been able to cut through that incredible haze was your smooth voice. He was no longer the Radio Demon, he was your plaything, and he would happily take the demotion, for this was indescribable and he wanted you to use him for all of your desires. If this was going to be the outcome, to have every single one of the pores on his skin spewing fire, his nerves alight with heedy sensation, he was ready to give up everything.
He looked like he was about to faint. You had never seen him so utterly red before. Your thrusts grew in intensity as you tried to give him that taste of nirvana that you felt each time he slipped into you. You wanted him to see how he made you felt, so good, so warm, so hot. “You gonna cum?” Your separated your lips from his shoulder, the audible panting in the vicinity a good sign that he was getting close.
“If you’re going to cum, you have to ask.”
You were speaking again, some beautiful language he was incapable of understanding. Some of the fog in his head cleared as he tried to focus on your voice once more. “What?” He wasn’t sure if it came out properly, but he tried. There was so much going on inside him.
“You need my permission to cum.” You sneered, picking up your pace. You hoped he felt you in his damn throat.
“May I,” He dropped onto the mattress again, unable to hold himself up any longer. He turned his face to the side. “May I cum, darling?” He didn’t want to fight you on this, there was too much space inside him that had been taken up by you and your desires.
Your eyes crinkled in delight. Without responding, you moved your hips back, and with one final thrust, you allowed him the release he so desperately sought after. You watched his expression the entire time; you wanted to hear him moan, you wanted to see him destroy your blankets as he reached his climax. You wanted to seem him unravel just as he had seen you unravel for him, so many times.
He fell apart under you. His limbs were shaking with the effort just to keep him standing and a garbled moan left his lips in a long melody. At least, it was music to your ears. His entire body was quivering, and he couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his own heart in his ears as he felt the blanket under his hips turn wet with his own release.
There was nothing else in his system to give you. He had sweat out everything and exhaustion and warmth flooded through him as you finally stopped filling him. He was panting, trying to catch his breath.
You were grinning behind him, your forehead beaded with sweat as you looked over the masterpiece that he was at the moment. He looked like a wreck and you felt pride fill your bones. “You alright, Al?” You carefully removed yourself from him, taking great joy in how his back shuddered as you withdrew from him.
“I’m right as rain.” It came out softly through his gasps. His eyes were still shut as he was probably a bit lost in the sensation still.
You removed the harness from you and tossed it away to be cleaned later. A sigh left your nose as you looked at him and how still he was. You cupped his shoulders, and carefully edged him over on the bed. You gathered the soiled blanket, balling it up to toss it onto the discarded toy. You helped him onto the bed fully and fetched a new blanket to cover him with. You’d worry about the clawed sheets and everything later. Right now, you were sure Alastor needed some sleep.
“Did you have fun?”
Alastor’s eyes blinked open, and a tired grin remained on his face.
“That was wonderful, darling.”
You hummed and settled yourself next to him. You curled under the blankets with him and shut your eyes.
You couldn’t wait until the next time.