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mousy-nona · 2 months

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Um hi random question for a possible prompt, are you okay with male pregnancy? Cause the prompt is Lucifer finding out that he on a drunken night had a one night stand with Alastor and that has resulted in a secret child that Lucifer never knew about until one day Alastor brings the young boy to the Hotel rather than leaving him with "Aunt Rosie"

TWO PARTS FOLKS! Skip this part if you don't like PWP

SMUT WARNING. LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK. Also this may or may not be my experiment into smut – let’s see if it’s any good lol

The night of

Later, Lucifer would blame it all on the drink.

(The devil’s brew, indeed.)

Three mistakes were made that night: the first was letting Husk bring that poison into the hotel in the first place. The second was allowing the grumpy cat and his slutty spider friend to pull him into an innocent drinking game that turned not innocent right quick.

Note to self: never, ever agree to play strip poker with an ex-gambling Overlord. What the Hell was he thinking?

Third mistake: allowing Alastor to exist.

He only had vague flashes of the rest of the night, but for some reason he remembered Alastor as clear as daybreak: Alastor’s sharp claws as he scraped him off the bar, the slight rise and fall of his chest as he carried him up to his room, the soft brush of his hair as he dropped him in his bed.

And he remembered grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t go,” he’d whispered.

And Alastor had stopped, a shadow inside of a shadow in the darkness of his room. “Sleep it off, boozehound.”

Lord in Heaven, his voice. The static electrified his blood, combined with the heat that was always simmering at a low boil whenever Alastor was around.

He’d thought it was hatred. Maybe it was. It didn’t matter – hate and lust felt the same when it was soaked in whiskey and rum.

“Why? Too scared to stay?”

He tried to throw the words out as a taunt. They came out like an invitation.

Alastor stilled. For a moment, Lucifer was convinced he would melt into the shadows, but he whirled around in one smooth pounce, clutching both of his wrists in one large hand. His claws dug into Lucifer’s skin, and the little pinpricks of pain sent shocks of electricity straight to his cock.

“Scared?” Alastor snarled. “If either one of us should be scared…” He took one sharp claw and ripped through the thin t-shirt Husk had let him keep. The cotton fell apart like it was made of paper, revealing the smooth, white skin underneath. Alastor ran his hand down his chest, leaving five thin lines of gold behind. Lucifer sucked in a breath, feeling his dick jump and strain in his pants. Oh, the pain was glorious. “It should be you, your Majesty.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lucifer batted back breathlessly.

Alastor hmmed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. Slowly, so slowly Lucifer felt like an eternity and a second had passed, Alastor loosened his grip on his wrists…and immediately plunged down on his neck.

“Wha–” was all Lucifer could get out before a vise-like grip was throttling him. His brain screamed for air, his adrenaline going haywire, and all his nerves went into overdrive. Oversensitized like this, every one of Alastor’s touches made him twist and moan like an untried virgin. No matter what ungodly sounds squeaked through his tortured throat, Alastor kept going, running his sharp claws against the side of his neck, the lines of his back, the deep Vs of his hips.

When he thought he might explode from the lack of oxygen, Alastor let go – and promptly tore the button off his pants. Lucifer’s mouth went dry as his traitor clothes slipped off, and he was laid bare in front of the wicked devil.

“What do we have here?” His grin would make a lesser man’s skin crawl.

Lucifer was not a lesser man. He was the king of Hell. And was he really just going to lie here and let Alastor strip him bare without even trying to fight back?

Moving quickly, he entwined his legs with Alastor’s and flipped them over so Alastor was lying flat on his back and Lucifer was back on top. Alastor hissed, his eyes narrowing, but Lucifer ignored him. Seeing the normally buttoned up and pristine demon like this, his hair mussed, his coat half-open sent a surge of lust so powerful what little breath he had left whooshed out of his lungs.

More, his fevered, whiskey-washed brain whispered. I want him ruined. I want him ravaged.

As if in a dream, he took hold of Alastor’s collar and ripped. The silk flew obediently off his body, revealing his toned muscles, the mouthwatering scars that dipped in and out of sight, tales of violence written in flesh and blood. Alastor was built lean but powerful, his chest as broad as his waist was narrow. Lucifer drank him in, gently touching each one of those scars with a veneration he hadn’t felt since the Fall.

I wonder if you’ll tell me these stories one day, he thought.

Alastor shivered each time Lucifer’s fingers met his overheated skin. A small sound escaped the back of his throat, half growl, half groan.

“Is that the best you can do?” He panted, his teeth gritted into a grin. A challenge.

It was painful to avoid his own straining cock for so long, but Lucifer couldn’t let Alastor’s jabs pass unnoticed. He surged forward and captured Alastor’s mouth with his – all the better to shut you up with, my dear. Alastor’s tongue was as flexible and tantalizing as his shadow tentacles. They battled for dominance, Lucifer’s hands going straight for Alastor’s pants – and letting out a sigh of relief when he felt the unmistakable stiffness pressed against the fabric. A quick slide of his finger, and he was able to grab Alastor’s cock in one hand, winding his other into the astonishing softness of Alastor’s hair.

Alastor snarled and broke the kiss. Lucifer had one glimpse of his face – eyes wild, his edges glitching, a step away from utterly undone – before Alastor sent him flying.

He landed with an oomph on his stomach, the softness of the blanket beneath bunched under his hips as he felt the ominous aura of Alastor crowd behind him. A hand fisted into his hair and yanked up, so rough he felt his scalp ache. Alastor leaned in, his breath hot and sweet against the crook of his neck. He jumped as an unmistakable pressure near his ass.

“One.”

Alastor pushed. Lucifer let out a long, keening cry as he felt a claw enter him. There was nothing soft or gentle about it, but he found himself pushing back, panting violently as a rush of electric lightning arc up and down his body.

It had never felt like this.

“So hungry for it,” Alastor murmured, his grin sharp against his cheek. Lucifer moaned, his dick so hard it bobbed against his stomach.

“Two.”

Another finger. Another rush of pleasure-pain. Another shock of lightning as sparks flew across his vision.

Alastor hummed, as if considering something. The last sane part of Lucifer’s brain trembled with fear…and anticipation. He spat into his palm, readying himself for something.

“What if I do this?”

Lucifer had been right to be afraid.

Alastor scissored his two fingers while grabbing his leaking cock and pumping hard. His mind went blank. His back arched as his mouth widened with a silent scream, feeling the crash of pleasure so mindnumbing, so overwhelming, that he lost all control. Alastor bit at his collarbone at the same time, and the wires of pleasure and pain and everything in between nearly short-circuited his brain for good.

Lucifer found his voice. He screamed as he felt the most violent orgasm he – or frankly anyone in this world – had ever known rip through his body. When he finally came back down to Earth, he realized he was on his back – and Alastor was between his legs.

“What? Did you think you were the only one who got to have fun, your Highness?”

Alastor pushed in. Lucifer’s ass burned as he struggled to take in his massive length. He closed his eyes, as if in pain, and the most delicious, static-burred groan tore from the back of his throat. It was the sexiest thing Lucifer had ever heard. His limp body, already exhausted from the pleasure Alastor had so savagely pulled from him, started stirring again.

Then Alastor hit that spot inside of him, and Lucifer’s head fell back, a strangled scream forced from the very depths of his soul. Alastor, true to form, was not gentle. He dug his claws into Lucifer’s waist as he snapped his hips, going as deep as he possibly could with every stroke. He growled as he moved, the static moving in and out of focus in time with each of his thrusts.

In the ghostly voices of the static, Lucifer could have sworn he heard his name.

There was a screech, and Alastor shuddered, his muscles rippling as Lucifer felt his cock swell inside of him.

“Let go, Alastor,” he panted. “Let go. It’s just us here.”

With a roar, Alastor did as he asked. A raging heat filled his insides as Alastor collapsed on top of him, his hair damp with sweat and an almost-peace crossing over his face.

Lucifer marvelled at it for a minute – before flipping Alastor back over and straddling his hips so that Alastor had a front-row view of his fully erect cock.

“What?” Lucifer grinned, his eyes glowing gold in the dark of the room. “Did you think you were the only one who got to have fun, Overlord?”

#radioapple #pwp #duckiedeer #PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE SMUT IM BEGGING YOU #lots of dicks in this one #pwp experiment #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #part 1 #next part will actually be plot i promise #also anon i am so sorry if this isn't what you wanted i was possessed what can i say #may delete later #and do the actual prompt lmao

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radjoy · 2 years

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Idk where I’m going with this, but:

Women generally live longer than men.

When you get married, you should love someone enough to care for them in their old age.

Because of 1, though, 95% of the time, it’s the husband whose health leaves first, and the wife spends her last years of decent health taking care of him - unable to go on vacations because he needs her, keeping track of his meds/drs appointments/meals, waiting on him hand and foot.

He dies. Then her health goes. And it’s no more lifetime-marriage-partner caring, it’s whatever home health aid the kids could hire. Nobody is making sure she gets to water aerobics and making her appointments for her, nobody is preparing her favorite dish just the way she likes it,

I volunteer at a senior center that has both “outpatient” style water aerobics/chair yoga/bridge clubs/social shit that local seniors still living on their own can attend, plus an assisted living community.

I constantly see the same progression: ailing husband is dragged to the classes and social hours, complaining the whole time. They meet with the assisted living groups. Wife talks about how nice it would be to live here, how hard it is keeping up their house, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone bring you your meds and drive you to the grocery store. Husband insists they don’t need it, but he also seems to need his wife to get up and get everything for him. Wife mentions that she wanted to fly out and see their grandchildren, but her husband needs her, and hiring a temporary aid won’t work because he has to have everything just so. Rinse and repeat, until:

Husband dies, wife gets maybe a year before she moves into retirement home.

I used to think this was just by happenstance, but then we got this older couple. From what the nurses said, they were both pretty big boozehounds, and their health had never really been a priority, so they had to move in earlier than we usually get patients.

I was eavesdropping on their adult kids, who were moving them in, and I heard them complaining that they had to do this. The couple was selling their house, and their son had wanted it, and their daughter was annoyed at how much this was going to cost. No big, we hear a lot of people who get annoyed watching their inheritance dwindle. But then the son goes: “You know, mom is five years younger than him. If she had taken care of herself, she would’ve been able to take care of him.”

And I was like, oh! So mom has to spend her life abstaining from alcohol and getting in 30 minutes of exercise per day, not so that she can take better care of herself and live longer for her, but because you were counting on her to play nursemaid for dad! And suddenly, this seemed a lot less like happenstance that occurred because women live longer than men. It seemed to be a deliberate part of patriarchy.

There’s one couple that moved in when they first started needing help around the house - most people move in as late as they possibly can. But the wife used to work as a home health aid, and she saw how it becomes more and more of the wife’s responsibility, and she didn’t want to put up with it. And her husband is kind of crotchety and grumpy, but they seem to have the best relationship I’ve seen - maybe if only because she can turn off her hearing aids and let us deal with him.

#what I’m saying is budget for help #radical feminism #radfem

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