#demonic debauchery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohproserpine · 2 months

Text

iv. dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago

˚୨୧₊♱

"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.

With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"

"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"

Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"

A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.

"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"

Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.

"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."

"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"

Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"

"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.

As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"

Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"

Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."

˚୨୧₊♱

The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.

Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.

Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.

Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.

"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."

"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."

"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"

Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."

A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"

“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"

With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.

Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."

"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"

"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.

"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."

"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.

Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.

As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.

"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"

With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"

As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.

On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.

Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.

Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.

"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.

The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.

"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."

"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.

It was a look he knew all too well.

"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"

Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.

Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.

The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.

"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."

"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."

"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"

Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."

Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.

The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.

"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.

"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"

"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.

"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"

Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."

"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"

Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."

Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"

"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."

Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"

The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.

"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.

"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."

"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.

"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.

Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.

˚୨୧₊♱

You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.

You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.

"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."

Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.

A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.

You missed your husband.

With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.

"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸

A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.

Alastor.

Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.

With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.

"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.

Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.

"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."

Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.

From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.

Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.

The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.

You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.

In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.

Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.

The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"

"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"

"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."

Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.

To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract

"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"

"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"

As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.

"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.

"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.

"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."

"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.

"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."

A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."

Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.

"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.

"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.

Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.

“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”

"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."

“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”

Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.

"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"

Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.

A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "

Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.

"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"

"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."

Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.

The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.

The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.

Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.

"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.

"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."

˚୨୧₊♱

#calm before the #before the :))#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel vox

4K notes · View notes

nerdpoe · 6 months

Text

There's a level of Hell that Constantine loves and hates in equal measure.

The Level of Lust and Debauchery.

He loves it for what it is, but he also really, really hates it. The beings in it are unhinged at best, completely insane at worst. Stronger than Demons, but weaker than Gods-it's always more stressful than fun dealing with them.

So needing to summon the King of that level is...well. John can already feel the exhaustion.

But instead of exhaustion, he feel rage. Disgust.

The King that shimmers into existence is a fucking child.

And John honestly loses some time after that.

He comes back from ranting with the tiny King forcefully yanking him to a stop.

"Wait, you thought the Infinite Realms were what?"

Turns out, that wasn't the Level of Lust and Debauchery at all. Turns out, the Infinite Realms has a Red Light District.

Turns out, that is a very, very small part of the Infinite Realms, and this tiny child King had no idea it was there, and now he has to explain what a Red Light District is to an increasingly mortified Royal Teenager.

All around, it's not a fun time for anyone present.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #story prompt #phanfic #john made some assumptions and now he and danny have to suffer for them #danny didn't mean “what's a red light district” he means “what the fuck would a red light district in the ghost zone even look like”#now he's getting the birds and the bees and the chains and whips that bind them talk from some scrungly magician #and he's too mortified to tell the man he already knows #afterwards danny and john pretend like they never met #pretend like the next summoning is the first one #but the other Leaguers who were present for the first know #even though they really didn't want to #that John is into some FREAKY SHIT #and think that the King of the Infinite Realms is an innocent babey

3K notes · View notes

cherubfae · 2 months

Note

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

Good To Be Back On the Air || Alastor x reader

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagines #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor x you #cherubfae 2024 #tw: kidnapping

471 notes · View notes

flordeamatista · 6 months

Text

THE DEVIL

pairing: dbf!andy barber x reader

concept: The lure of temptation, seduction, and lust he offered filled your head ecstatically.

word count: 1k

warnings: sex tape + corruption kink + pussy slapping, nicknames: (Angel)

a/n: The devil card depicts intense sexual desire and physical attraction.The Devil is the gateway into the future kinks.

THE WITCHING HOUR ──── KINKTOBER'23

masterlist

The lure of temptation, seduction, and lust he offered filled your head ecstatically.

Your wings were scattered at your feet as you stood rigidly in his home office.

His radiant blue eyes met yours with a languid gaze, making you feel heat prickling beneath your skin. He swept his eyes up and down your body, and his hands slowly moved over your curves. “I wonder if your parents are looking for you,” lifting you onto his lap with one arm while the other braces against your chest.

A hand slapped your pussy as it dug through your naked form, exploring every inch of it.

"The party gets drunk downstairs, but my touch will make your pussy drunk here." When your head fell back against him, his hot breath heated up in your ear. He grinned into your neck while biting your skin. “So desperate to be touched, aren’t you?”

You closed your eyes and wondered if it was all a dream or if reality had tricked you. The Halloween party had already begun earlier that evening, and you’re almost naked on his lap, wearing only your angelic halo.

Your body vibrates in anticipation as you sit on the devil’s lap, with your once pure angel wings lying on the ground.

An inferno looms to consume you whole when the spark within you ignites.

Your heart surrenders to his touch, allowing yourself to be influenced by the promise of pleasure and the unknown.

There is an electrifying quality of being around him, but it is also terrifying; you know it is dangerous territory, but you can’t help feeling drawn in by his dark charisma. His midnight blue eyes promise a night of sensuality and debauchery beyond your wildest dreams.

You’re helpless as he whispers softly and tastefully, and you’re beckoned into the unknown by his sinful dirge.

A tingling sensation runs down your spine when you catch sight of his gaze.

There is something dangerous about your attraction to him, and what will happen if you comply with him?

While you appear angelic, his aura is testing you into darkness.

A knowing smirk curls his lips as he stares at you as if he knows exactly who you are and what you want.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and swiped it until the camera was on.

His right hand was poised over the phone while his left touched your body. He spoke low and velvet-smooth, saying, “I want this recorded proof that even angels can moan for devils.” Taking your lips in a passionate kiss, he traced circles across your skin, generating sweltering heat.

With a smile, he roars like a devouring demon, and his firm contours blend perfectly with my angelic features.

When you both pulled apart, you saw his eyes blazing with desire. With each slap of his palm, a fire ignited within you, threatening to burn out of control.

“Show me how the devil can make pretty angels moan. Aren't you my pretty angel?.”

Deep, slow breaths push warmth into the air.

“You like that, don’t you?” His warm slaps glide across your clitoris, and he holds the phone close to your pussy.

As he taps your clit each time, pain and pleasure wash over you simultaneously. You need his fingers in your clit for him to release the orgasm and touch, so a slap does not suffice.

It feels like he might slip his fingers inside, but he slaps it away, leaving the breeze to cool the air.

In a warm embrace, his finger traces shapes around your pussy. A gentle tickle alternates with a firm slap that makes your hips jerk. Every time you shudder, you are slapped harder.

You muffle a small moan against your palm as your body burns and your eyes tighten.

His dark and menacing voice whispers in your ear. The phone moves closer to your face. You feel your body quiver as he punctuates the words with more intense pussy slaps. “Such a good angel.”

There were no words between you as you walked forward and kissed the fiery.

Every step brought profound relief that swallowed light and sound.

The only force you could understand was a burning desire to be with him, but you could neither understand nor resist it.

There is no escaping the devil when the night is dark and your heart is led by him.

555 notes · View notes

nunalastor · 2 months

Text

for your consideration: lucifer waking up after a night of drunken debauchery with the sheets bunched up over his chest, then looking over and expecting to see the radio demon who he's been flirting with all night only to find susan the cannibal taking a drag out of those long cigarette holders

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer morningstar #alastor #headcanon

272 notes · View notes

thewritetofreespeech · 7 months

Note

Could I request headcanons of the 7 brothers of obey me finding their s/o asleep in their bedroom, waiting for them?

Obey me Boys + who's that sleeping in my bed?

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed as he turned down the final hall of their home. Why did the House of Lamentation have to have so many hallways?

He had been in a very long meeting with Lord Diavolo. Discussing current events in the Devildom, the school, and of course the exchange program. His prince was always interested in how the selected were doing. And although Lucifer didn’t really care how the angels or Solomon were doing, he could report that [Y/N] was doing very well.

Reaching his room, he opened the door and shrugged off his cloak. Feeling a metaphorical weight come off, along with the real one, as it slumped to the floor.

He was on his way to change and take a shower when he noticed someone on his bed. It was [Y/N]. Of course it was. No one else would dare enter his room if he wasn’t there. They must have come in and waited to surprise him, but he had arrived too late.

A soft smile, a mix of heart warming and sad, came to his face as he looked at them. He then came over and pet their hair. “It’s good to see you too, my love. I’ll be right back.”

[Y/N] didn’t wake up as he spoke, but did move a little in some sort of unconscious acknowledgement. He then continued on with the task of showering and changing. Maybe he was working a little too hard afterall.

Mammon

“Ouch!” Mammon cursed as he bounced off one of the walls.

Another successful night of debauchery for the scummiest brother. Gambling, drinking, cruising hot demons at the club, more drinking. He’d finally reached his fill (or more to the point: puked) and decided to go home. Because despite what his credit card statements said he could not, in fact, live in the club.

He finally made it into his room. Immediately starting to strip out of his clothes. Leaving a trail from the door to his bed. He got down to his shorts just as he was about to swan dive in, when he noticed [Y/N] there. He was surprised, then trying to think of why they were there. His alcohol soaked brain tried to think of something, but the only thing he could think of was that they had waited for him.

Suddenly his stomach felt heavy; and not just from the impending nausea. [Y/N] had been waiting for him. For what, he didn’t know, and it really didn’t matter. They had waited for him. And he had been out drinking and gambling with a bunch of losers, who didn’t even care enough to hold up his head when he got sick.

Mammon suddenly felt like actually the scummiest brother, then turned to head towards the couch. Besides the fact that he stunk, which didn’t matter to him but might to [Y/N], he didn’t feel he deserved to sleep next to them and slept on the couch.

He woke up the next morning to [Y/N] petting his head and asking if he was alright. He then decided he wasn’t going to the club anymore. He didn’t need it.

Levi

“I got it! I got it! I got it! I got it!” Levi cheerfully chanted as he ran up the stairs and towards his room.

He had been at the midnight release of his new game, Paradox Spheres. A muti-level, muti-dimension, multi-timeline RPG game where the main character travels through rips in time & space to save the universe. He had to have it.

Levi had been camping out since lunch, like any good otaku, to get a good spot for the release. His hours of waiting, then hours of waiting in the queue up, finally paying off when he got one! Number 134 was always a lucky number for him.

“[Y/N]! I got it! I got it!” The demon exclaimed as he burst through the door. Holding his new game up like a trophy.

His enthusiasm, however, was not matched as he found [Y/N] asleep on his bed. The real one, not his bathtub.

Levi moved to check his watch and see how late it was. He’d gotten the game, but at what cost? [Y/N] was understandably out just waiting for him to come back. Not here to revel in the joy with him.

The demon sighed and placed his game on his dresser. He didn’t want to play it anymore. Without [Y/N] it wasn’t fun anymore.

He instead booted up one of his older games to play that. He wasn’t tired. Being a seasoned otaku, and running on game grab adrenaline, this time of night was nothing to him. He would just have to wait until [Y/N] woke up to start his new game.

Satan

The sound of pages turning filled the room as Satan furiously read page after page.

He had planned to go to bed a while ago, telling [Y/N] he would be there in a minute, but just after that he had reached a very interesting part in his book and couldn’t stop. Satan had to see how it ended otherwise he would be plague with regret and anxiety on what could happen all night.

Finally, he reached the end with a satisfying conclusion. Closed the book. Then leaned back with a contented sigh. If only for a moment.

“Shit.” He cursed as he realized how late it was and rushed to his room.

It was too late though. [Y/N] was already asleep. Clearly reading on their own to try and stay away before sleep took them. Satan felt bad. He had promised he would be up soon and broke it. Leaving them alone and waiting for him all evening.

Carefully coming over to the bed, Satan picked up their book and placed a crisp, new bookmark in their place before he moved them over a little and slide in beside them. “I’m sorry dearest.” He apologized before kissing their forehead. Surely they would understand it was a good book though.

Asmo

“Annnnd…done!” Asmo let out a little giggle as he finished his skin care regiment for the night and bounced off to bed. “Ok [Y/N]~! I’m ready to snuggle up and….” The demon’s cheerfulness waned when they saw that [Y/N] was a sleep on the bed. Looking like an angel he would know.

Asmo pouted seeing them asleep. He thought they would wait up for him, so they could gab and do…other stuff. His skin care regiment was only 21 steps. Surely they could wait up for him to be done with that!?

Being petty, Asmo walked over to the other side of the bed and flopped down. Intentionally being forceful and loud as possible with his tuck in process to hopefully wake them. They did not. He pouted again and rolled over to get some sleep. Good thing he used his advanced anti-wrinkle cream on his mouth & brow tonight.

Beelzebub

Beel hit his stopwatch as he came back to the front gate and gave a little cheer. A new personal best.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, or felt like he was going to be able to get to sleep, while he and [Y/N] were getting ready for bed. So, he decided to go for a run. [Y/N] told him that was ok, and they would wait up for him, but he told them it was ok if they didn’t.

Making his way upstairs, two at a time, Beel came into the room quietly and sure enough, [Y/N] was asleep. He didn’t feel bad that they hadn’t stayed up. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to run for, when he would be back, and he knew that they had been sleepy when he left. It was his problem he couldn’t sleep, not theirs.

Beel came over and kissed the top of their head before he went to get some new pajamas to change into. He was obviously sweaty now, so he needed a shower.

When he got back he curled up with [Y/N] and immediately went to sleep. Finally tired, and contented to be with [Y/N].

Belphie

He’d woken up from one of his naps in the middle of studying to find [Y/N], still working, before he got up and announced, “I need some water.” His mouth was very dry.

Belphie heard their response, which sounded tired if he was paying attention, before he went downstairs to get said water. By the time he came back, all the way up in the attic, [Y/N] had fallen asleep. Their pen still in their hand.

The demon paused and observed the situation for a moment. This was an odd experience for him. Usually, people walked in on him asleep. Not the other way around.

Belphie smiled at being on the other side for once and crawled into bed. “[Y/N], move over.” He urged. Gently pushing them to make space, but also put them in the position he wanted to lay down. He then curled up with [Y/N], smelling their hair, and immediately fell asleep like usual. This was a very nice surprise.

765 notes · View notes

dnd-smash-pass-vs · 13 days

Text

Graz'zt, The Prince of Pleasure, this is the demon lord of hedonism and debauchery! 9 ft (2.7 m) tall but can shapeshift endlessly into other humanoids as bonus action (so like, in a second while doing other things). Has mastery of mind control and invisibility, telepathy and telekenesis, knows all languages, and makes all flat surfaces near him so shiny they act like mirrors! He's also...not originally a demon. He's a devil. An archdevil who said screw the whole hellish regime, I'm just going to take the abyssal layers I conquered for myself!

Man's all about subtlety manipulation, indulging in endless luxury and pleasure, and loves turning purity perverse. As you might expect, he's basically the Abyss's lord of sexual delight, so like...yeah he's about as good as you'll find on that front, especially as a one-night stand. Absurd amount of lovers, including a TON of powerful pissed-off exes. Like the Queen of Succubi. And Tasha. Like Tasha's Cauldron Tasha, who is also Baba Yaga's daughter Iggwilv. But that's beside the point, I'm asking if you'd fuck the demonic king of fucking.

#graz'zt #dnd #dnd5e #apparently another epithet for him is “The Dark Man”. Um. I guess I can't argue with that as accurate. but like. Really?#Like until recently his big fancy titles were “The Shadow King” and “The Dark Man.”#It kinda sounds like Monty Cook thought “oooh might get in trouble if I just call him ”That black guy.“ Where's my Thesaurus?#Not saying that's what he did. Just what it looks like.#DnD 5e #d&d #smash or pass #5e #monsters of the multiverse #mpmm

150 notes · View notes

asylummint · 2 months

Note

Hi! May I request a Lucifer x teen reader x Alastor where they both see a lost child to take under their guidance and fight for custody?

Hi! id love too!! Thank you so much for requesting! Requests are open!!!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the heart of Hell, amidst the chaos and debauchery, a most peculiar dispute unfolded between two powerful demons: Lucifer, the proud ruler of Hell, and Alastor, the charismatic Radio Demon. Their clash, however, was not over territory or power, but over something far more unexpected—a child.

It began with a chance encounter in the depths of Pentagram City. A young demonling, abandoned and alone, stumbled into Lucifer's domain, seeking refuge from the relentless dangers of Hell. The child's innocent eyes and trembling form stirred something unexpected within Lucifer's cold heart—a sense of compassion he had long buried beneath his prideful exterior.

Determined to protect the child from the perils of Hell, Lucifer took the demonling under his wing, providing shelter and guidance within the grandiose halls of Pandemonium. However, his paternal instincts soon drew the attention of none other than Alastor, whose curiosity was piqued by the unusual sight of Lucifer caring for a mere mortal soul.

Alastor, known for his penchant for chaos and mischief, saw an opportunity in the situation. He believed that the child would make an excellent protege, a companion in his endeavors to spread mayhem throughout Hell. Thus, he laid claim to the child, declaring his intention to take them under his wing and mold them in his own image.

What ensued was a clash of wills unlike any Hell had ever seen. Lucifer, stubborn and unyielding in his determination to protect the child, stood firm against Alastor's charismatic charm and cunning manipulation. Their arguments echoed through the halls of Pandemonium, shaking the very foundations of Hell with their intensity.

As the dispute escalated, demons from all corners of Hell took sides, some rallying behind Lucifer's noble cause, while others were swayed by Alastor's persuasive words. The tension between the two demons reached a boiling point, threatening to erupt into open conflict that could tear Hell apart.

Amidst the chaos, the child remained at the center of the storm, their fate hanging precariously in the balance. Both Lucifer and Alastor recognized the weight of their actions and the impact it would have on the innocent soul caught in the crossfire.

In a rare moment of clarity, Lucifer and Alastor set aside their differences, realizing that their quarrel had overshadowed the well-being of the child they both cared for in their own way. With a heavy heart, they reached a compromise—a shared custody agreement that would allow both demons to play a role in the child's upbringing.

And so, amidst the flames and chaos of Hell, an unlikely alliance was forged between Lucifer and Alastor, bound by their mutual desire to protect the innocent and ensure a brighter future for the child they had both grown to love. Though their rivalry persisted, tempered by newfound respect and understanding, they stood united in their commitment to guide and nurture the young soul entrusted to their care.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope this was ok!! I honestly couldn't think of where to take this. i know you said teen, but I couldn't think of how to properly incorporate that especially with Alastor.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel

224 notes · View notes

kishibei · 2 years

Text

a month of debauchery split into 4 weeks. including: fics, drabbles, and headcannons. 18+ read content warnings !!!

WEEK ONE (OCT. 1ST-8TH)

MIDNIGHT — EREN X READER

CONT: manipulation, loss of virginity, corruption, slight roleplay (in costume).

you thought you'd struck gold becoming friends with your university's most eligible bachelor: eren jaeger. you've never questioned his judgement, so when he suggests you both attend the annual halloween bash, you're all ears. the concepts get crazier each year and rumour has it this year's event includes a "virgin sacrifice" at the stroke of midnight. as any good friend would, eren ensures you dont fall victim to the frat house's weird schemes, only in the way he knows best.

+ CONSUME — SUGURU GETO X READER

CONT: olfactophila, cunnilingus, teasing, edging, (very mild/implied) body worship.

WEEK TWO (OCT. 9TH-15TH)

WHAT A CREEP — PERVERT SUNA X READER

CONT: perversion, panty thieving, peeping, voyeurism, male masturbation, teasing, man-handling, fingering, mirror sex, dumbification, hate-fuck (?), rough sex.

when your hot roommate offers to do laundry in exchange for a favor, you oblige in a heartbeat! your clothes seem to be returned in perfect condition, except there's one big problem: several pairs of panties are missing ...

TRINITY BLOOD — VAMPIRE HUNTER GOJO + VAMPIRE GETO X READER

CONT: noncon, blood kink, double penetration, vouyerism, humiliation, mind break (?), manipulation, breeding kink, imbalanced power dynamic.

life as a vampire hunter isn't all cracked up to be. when your usual work partner is replaced by gojo satoru: one of the greatest hunters in the world, it isn't long before he begins tactless advances. if things couldn't get worse, you've now been tasked with eliminating suguru getou: a deadly vampire who is at your neck, and all efforts to free yourself from him seem fruitless. when gojo finally comes to your aid, he sees it as the perfect opportunity to make his twisted fantasies become reality.

WEEK THREE (OCT. 16TH-22ND)

YOKAI STORIES — TRUE FORM SUKUNA X READER

CONT: dubcon, monster fucking, fear play, size kink, forced vouyerism, cuckolding.

playing around with rituals isn't the brightest idea to have on halloween night. so when you and your friends accidentally awaken a violent thousand year old demon (that happens to look a lot like your best friend yuuji...) you're in for a lot more than you bargained for.

+ various drabbles / HCs

WEEK FOUR (OCT 17-31)

TAG, YOU'RE IT! — STALKER NANAMI X READER

CONT: dubcon, stalking, obsession, fear play, manipulation, questions of morality.

leaving your old life behind was the best decision you'd ever made. you'd successfully evaded your toxic ex, landed a new job in a new city, and things seem to be going well. that is until unexplained gifts begin showing up at your cubicle. the notes attached to them start off silly but now they've grown cryptic. when one of these strange presents wind up at your home, you'll do almost anything to make sure the man you know is responsible gets caught. when the masked man is finally revealed, your feelings about the situation become confused.

+ various drabbles / HCs

2K notes · View notes

storydays · 1 month

Text

Welcome to Heaven P2

(3rd POV)

*In Heaven Meeting Room*

"Heavenly people, what more do you need to see?" Adam asked, as the court room watch Angel and Cherri take shots. "The porn star chose a night of debauchery. That's not a soul worthy of being in Heaven!" He exclaimed.

"Um, objection! Are you really telling me you've never had a drink with friends at the end of a hard day?" Charlie asked.

"Uh, we don't have hard days. It's fuckin' Heaven, bitch. You seriously going to sit there and pretend like this behavior is okay? What do you think?" The yellow angel asked Vaggie as Charlie and (Y/N) growled lowly.

"I--I--I have to go to the bathroom." Vaggie stuttered before rushing off. "What, Vaggie, can't you hold it?" Charlie hissed after her.

"Angel will make good decisions! We have to keep watching! Please." (Y/N) pleaded. Sera sighed heavily before turning to Emily. "Yeah, I don't know." "Yeah, let's give him a chance." The younger Seraphim replied.

"Very well; the court will allow it." "Fuck, yes!" Charlie cheered, fist pumping herself. (Y/N) noticed the looks she was receiving and elbowed Charlie who quickly corrected herself. "I mean, heh, thank you."

*In Consent Club*

Angel tossed his head back as Cherri approached with more in her hands. "Round 12, mother fuckers! Heels are comin' off!" "Haha! Yeah, keep 'em comin'!" laughed the spider, reaching for another. "Come on, right here, right to Daddy." He giggled. "Oh, it is wonderful to have friends!" Sir Pentious cackled, tossing his head back, enjoying the sting of the alcohol.

"Everything's spinny, hehe." Niffty giggled, reaching for a little more. "Ha ha! I think you're done, tiny." Angel took the shot from her, giving it to Husk who downed two shots at the same time. "No! Gimmie gimmie gimmie!" Niffty whined, reaching for the glass.

"Oh, come on, bitch, she can handle a little more!" Cherri scowled. "She's like ten pounds soaking wet, and--" Angel defended before noticing the cyclops maid was gone.

"Oh, shit. Where'd she go?"

Niffty ignored the angry yells as she cleaned up group of men's table. "Dirty, dirty, make it clean." Niffty said manically.

"Dammit, Niffty. Sorry fellas, here, next one's on me." Angel threw a wad of cash at the men, rolling his eyes at how they fought over it.

"Niffty? Shit!" Angel cursed, seeing the redhead raiding the cleaning closet. "Chlorine....Bleach...."

Angel went to stop her, when Cherri stopped him in his path, with her hands on her hip. "Angie, the fuck are you doing? You're supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny."

"Look, she ain't used to this scene. I-I just don't want her to end up in the gutter like I used to." Angel protested.

"Pfft, whatever, nerd. Just catch up when you're done." The pink haired Cyclops walked away and Angel snatched Niffty up. "Stop! You can't take that! God Niff, why are you bein' such a mess?!" He snapped.

"I-I'm the mess?" Niffty started bawling loudly. "Oh, oh shit! Hey, hey, hey...calm down, ya ain't a mess. It's fine, ssshhhh, hey, you wanna play with the kitty?" Angel panicked, before using his second pair of hands to rub soothing circles on Niffty's back and in her hair.

"Yeah." whined Niffty.

"The fuck is this?" Husk demanded as Niffty climbed all over him, and started pulling at his ears and eyebrows. "She's wasted." Angel deadpanned before smiling. "Just go with it."

"Re-really?! Ugh, get the--" He sighed, accepting his fate as Niffty started pulling on his wings.

"Ahh, hey, wow!" Pentious, who was clearly drunk, slid over to where Cherri was sitting boredly. "Hey, so, I see the club has a sex room. So I was thinking, maybe you'd want to uhm, do a sex with me?" He asked awkwardly.

Cherri snorted, suddenly interested. "I'm sorry, why would we have sex?" "Uh, uh, um.. because I'm having sex with everyone here!" He exclaimed loudly, yelping when a group of demons dragged him into a room. "Get in here."

Cherri shook her head, before perking up seeing Angel approach with Husk and Niffty behind him. "You know, we can do this fucking shit every fucking night! You don't have to spend all of your off hours, 'working on yourself,' you little bitch."She grinned, ignoring Angel's raised eyebrow.

"The hotel isn't a problem in his life, it's--" Husk defended before trailing off. "Valentino." Angel muttered darkly, looking off to the side.

"Exactly. So why don't you---"

"No. Valentino." Angel's voice wobbled as he pointed at the moth sitting with two other demoness's. "Yeah, I'm here all the time, they know me. You're gorgeous...do you need a job? How many dicks can you suck? Ooh, I could make you a star..." Valentino continued to talk as Angel started shaking in fear.

"L-Let's get the fuck outta here, ok? Come on.---" He started to walk out when he realized something. Sparing a glance at Val over his shoulder, he quickly took notice of who was missing. "Where's Niffty?" "...Porn star. Okay, yup, bring me another drink or I'll fucking kill you." Val's voice carried over the party noise as Niffty ran over to him, giggling, "Bad boy. Hehehehe."

Angel, despite his fear, ran after her, muttering under his breath as he pushed through the crowd. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Get out of my way."

He quickly caught Niffty, just as she was approaching Valentino. "Holy shit, Angel Dust? What are you doing here, baby?" cooed the moth. "I'm surprised to see you not riding the prince's dick." he mocked, making a dick gesture.

"Funny." Angel rolled his eyes. "Who's this chiquita? You bringing me fresh meat?" Val asked, leaning closer to eye Niffty.

Niffty tried to bite him.

"Oi!" exclaimed Valentino, leaning back in his seat, allowing the two demoness's to lean back against him.

"I just want a taste." Niffty growled with a grin. "Ehh, weird, but there's a kink for that I'm sure." shrugged the pimp.

"Fuck off, Val." Hissed Angel, standing up, holding Niffty close. "Excuse me?" Val narrowed his eyes.

"I said, fuck off. I put up with your bullshit for the longest time, and I will never let you get your claws into my friends."

"You forget who you're talking to, slut?" "No, I know exactly who I'm talking to: An insecure piece of shit, who makes himself feel better beating up and taking advantage of vulnerable people and who is incapable of feeling anything other than greed, you , twisted, heartless son of a bitch." Val growled lowly, making a smoke chain appear, and he went to raise a hand to hit the spider, when suddenly a (f/c) chain pulled him to his knees, to be face to face with a shadow version of the prince.

" Did you forget our deal, Valentino?" cooed the Shadow Prince, tail lazily swinging behind him. The pimp gulped nervously.

"Ugh, n-no, never." stuttered the moth, as the shadow version of (Y/N) narrowed his red eyes before pulling the moth close to him, effectively gagging him. Angel, Niffty, and Husk watched with wide eyes.

"Hm. So you weren't about to put your hands on Angel? You're saying I'm lying?"

"No, Príncipe. Angel and I were just having a---" He choked when the shadow pulled harshly, before turning to the crowd. "Who here had seen Valentino raise his hand to Angel?" He called, raising an eyebrow at the many hands that had went up.

The moth was shaking from where he was kneeling as he realized his mistake.

" Niffty, dear." The shadow nodded his head, and Niffty snatched some fluff off of Val's neck. "Ow! What the fuck?!" He exclaimed. "For my collection, hehe."

"I think, Valentino, I let you off too easy last time. Until I return from my meeting, you are going back to the...playroom. And if you think last time was horrifying.." The shadow laughed darkly, watching as the horror spread across Valentino's face. "Just wait, motherfucker. Just wait." And with the both Valentino and the shadow disappeared, with the shadow prince's laughter echoing through the club.

"Fuck, that was kind of hot." Angel sighed, thinking of his fiance. "Good job, kid." Husk smiled, patting Angel on the back as they finally walked back to Cherri. "Uh, Niffty, what's the fluff for?" Husk asked. "For my collection, hehehe." She chuckled.

"Did you just call these cunts your friends? Thought that was my job." She chuckled, looking proud of Angel. "There's room for everyone, and ya know, you could come crash with us too." Angel smiled.

"Okay, look Angie, I'm glad this hotel shit is workin' for ya. But you know me, bitch. I'm doin' just fine. In fact, I'm gonna fuck the next guy I see, okay?" Cherri chuckled, starting to walk away before turning back to him with a soft smile, "But, if you need me, you know where to find me, yeah?"

She walked away, just as Pentious approached, panting heavily. "Is Cherri still here?"

Angel and Husk both pointed at Cherri as she walked hand in hand with a random demon into a sex room. "Dammit!" He exclaimed.

*Back in the Heaven courtroom*

"See! He did everything on your checklist! He was selfless, he stopped Niffty from stealing, and he stuck it to that moth man!" Charlie exclaimed proudly.

"Uhh, well, uh...then, then why isn't he here then? Hm?" Ace demanded. "Yeah, why isn't he here?" Emily asked Sera who looked away.

The court room started muttering uneasily. "Wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?" (Y/N) spoke up, glaring as Sera spoke up.

"This questioning stops now. We know when a soul arrives, we know when they pass divine judgement. It is our job to ensure these souls are safe." Sera said firmly, as Emily looked at Adam;s list, confusion on her face.

Charlie stared in horror as Vaggie was revealed to be an exorcist angel, while (Y/N) watched the teal angel known as Ash carefully. He'd heard that singing voice from somewhere, but where...?

"I'm sorry, but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed." Sera spoke firmly.

"Oh, fuck yes! I win. Suck it bitches!"

Vaggie and Charlie backed up, as (Y/N) stood in front of them, sword in his hand, ready to defend, as the angels approached.

"You better save the date, cunts." Adam smirked as Lute and Ash appeared over him, giving him an even more sinister look. Ash took his mask and hood off to reveal.....

"Archer?"

(Y/N)'s voice cracked, seeing his ex alive and grinning evilly at him. "Uh, the name is Ash. And we're coming to your hotel, first!"

With a snap of his fingers, Adam opened a portal that started to suck the three into it. "What? No,no, you can't--" "Oh, you mother--" Vaggie and Charlie both protested as they were sucked in. (Y/N) remained silent as he held eye contact with Arc--Ash who grinned darkly and flicked him off, before the portal closed in the prince's face. "Charlie! Don't give up on this! I'll figure something out, I promise!" Emily called.

"That was uncalled for, Adam." Sera scolded.

"Yeah, but did you see the looks on their fucking faces? It was... Ahem. Sorry." He cleared his throat before flying over to Lute and Ash, who had a quizzical look on his face. "Hey, what gives, asshat?" He asked the teal angel.

"The prince. He called me Archer...and I never notice 'til now, but he looks awfully familiar." Ash hummed, missing the looks the other two exorcists shared.

"Ah, don't worry your pretty little head about it, babe. Probably some demon shit." Adam shrugged, flying off, Lute following. "Yeah, you're probably right." shrugged the fox angel before flying off as well.

"Extermination, of human souls. Demon or not, there is no reason to be doing this." Emily snapped.

"They were uprising, Emily." Sera said, eyes glowing slightly in tune with her feelings, "It is my position as the Head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs, and it's your position to keep them happy and joyful. "

"How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people?" Whimpered Emily.

"Heaven needs us, Emily. Everyone looks to us and we can't doubt ourselves or worry about the fates of demons when we have our own souls to protect. Please, if you start to question, you could end up like Lucifer: fallen. I couldn't bear to see you suffer that fate. So please, let me worry about this, okay?" She pressed a kiss to Emily's head, "I'm sorry."

*Back in Hell*

(Y/N), Vaggie and Charlie collapsed on the hotel's floor, startling the rest of the hotel members from where they were lounging on the couches waiting for their return.

"Sooo, how'd it go?" Angel asked, going over to hug (Y/N) when he noticed the haunted look in his eyes. "Sweetcheeks?" He asked, kneeling in front of his lover, grunting softly when (Y/N) hugged him tightly, hyperventilating and sobbing. Angel's arms wrapped around him and he stood up, holding him close.

Without sparing a look to anyone, Angel quickly ran to their shared room and slammed the door, leaning against it, as he rocked (Y/N) back and forth, waiting for him to stop crying.

Eventually, the harsh sobs quited down to an occasional sniffle, but he continued to cling to Angel.

"Bambino, let's take a quick shower, get in our pjs, and then we can cuddle in bed. We don't have to talk--"

"No." replied the prince, voice heavy with emotion.

"Okay, what do you need from me?"

"Fuck me."

Angel's eyes widen as he looked down at (Y/N) who refused to look at him. "What?"

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, I don't want to remember anyone's love but yours. Please. We can shower and stuff after, but please...help me forget." He pleaded, wrapping his tail around the spider's waist.

"Bambino, I won't fuck you."

The prince started to protest when Angel ran a hand through his hair, "But I will make love to you. I love you too much to hurt you." "I love you too. I love you so much." (Y/N) whimpered before being pulled into loving arms.

#storydays #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #viziepop #hazbin angel dust #x male reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin valentino #princemorningstar

86 notes · View notes

lily-orchard · 12 days

Note

If there was one thing you could consider the most "anti puritan" belief possible, what would it be?

Evil is boring.

Christian morality paints evil as a hedonistic pit of debauchery, filled with all the drugs and sex that good god-fearing Christians stay away from.

And while we all know that's never been true, a lot of people still live in that dichotomy. People who pride themselves on being "anti-puritan" will often continue to live in a puritanical way of thinking, but actively choose all the things Christians say are evil and pride themselves on how 'degenerate' they are.

See also the way feminine sexuality is demonized as evil, and is then reinforced by supposed progressives with the "step on me hot evil lady" attitude.

It's this "face God and walk backwards into Hell" attitude that only reinforces Christian ideas of morality because it still lives in that binary.

The reality is: Hell isn't real. If it was real, it would look like this

Evil isn't hedonistic. Evil is base. Evil is boring.

People get so into serial killers and what they were thinking, but the reality of the majority of serial killers is just simple misogyny or racism. And they often get away with their crimes because of the apathy of law enforcement.

Most street crimes are done because of poverty.

The reason a democracy falls into tyranny is usually because the voters were idiots.

Most spree-killers in the modern day are incels. People who are the exact opposite of hedonistic.

People think that if North America completely shakes off "puritanical american values" that it'll turn into a big, nationwide block party. The reality is, a "sexually liberated" US would be very boring to the people who live their lives based on what will make the church blow steam out their ears. People would be a lot more relaxed, and your attempts to hype up "The Nasty Stuff" would leave people confused at best.

73 notes · View notes

pedropascalsx · 1 year

Text

Restless Spirits. Joel Miller x F! Reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 2.4k.

Summary: Joel finds respite in you after being visited by the ghosts of his past.

Warnings: P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Oral (F) Receiving, Creampie, Fingering, Squirting, Some Angst and Mentions of Child Loss.

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut for Joel. I hope you like it.

Thank you to my loves @djarinispunkk @theewokingdead & @chaoticgeminate for reading this over and providing support.

And a big hug to my beloved @foli-vora for providing feedback, support and encouraging me to continue with it!

The grip on your hips is bruising, you want to wince from the pain but you know that he needs this. He needs you to be pliant, he needs you to be still, he needs to mindlessly fuck you until the only thing his body feels is a wave a euphoria that’ll be quickly followed by exhaustion. He needs to wear out his already tired body until it can’t do anything except succumb to whatever amount of sleep his brain will give him.

This isn’t about your pleasure, he’ll give that to you tomorrow, or maybe when he wakes during the night. But right now this is almost for survival, a quick respite from the hell that’s currently ravishing his bones and tormenting his mind.

“Take it,” he grunts as his hand fists your ponytail, his rhythm getting sloppy and sloppier as he nears high. “Good- good fucking girl.”

He pulls out and fists his cock furiously for a few moments before groaning in pleasure as thick’s ropes of his seed start to coat your thighs.

You can’t help but think about that look in his eyes from earlier. Before the ghosts of his past unknowingly haunted whatever hope he held for the future.

It’s a look you think you’ve seen once before, but you can’t quite place it. His eyes had something that years ago someone would have described as a glimmer of hope and maybe that’s what it was, but it just seems easier to disregard it as desperation. But right now you can’t.

She was giggling like a child, the shredded remains of a newspaper printed decades earlier crumbled up in her hands as she read an obscure comic strip of a large ginger lasagna loving cat.

Youth coats every inch of her face, she’s still tiny in stature, puberty is still very much a work in progress but still it’s easy to forget that she’s a child.

The way she talks, the unexplainable bravery she exhibits… and then in these passing moments she’ll remind me that she is just a child. One who giggles uncontrollably at stupid comics.

He studied her for a few moments, he watched the way her eyes lit up as she laughed, it was like for a second he truly believed she could be the way out of all of this. And then it fizzled out. The demons he’s created in his mind coming out of the woodwork to shame him for feeling anything but numbness or a crippling sadness that he attempts to disguise with anger and an unfriendliness.

After a few seconds he simply got up and left without saying another word, possibly to down a shot of whiskey or to quietly think about the daughter that lives on through his unwavering pain. He doesn’t speak about her ever; you only found out she existed through Tess. And Tess made it abundantly clear that any conversation that involves his daughter is strictly off limits.

Instead he wears the pain of losing her on his face, it lingers in his bones and bleeds out of him like a wound that’s begging to be

cauterized and causes him to seek solace in debauchery and drink. And you can’t blame him. You never would.

You’ve never experienced that kind of loss, you didn’t know your parents, you were the product of two fools that didn’t think before they acted and left in the hospital you were born in. Raised by the church for a while, before the epidemic hit and then you were carted off to a school for orphans. They attempted to protect you from the hell that you were living in, but you’d seen things, heard things that made your skin crawl. And the day you turned 18, you were left to fend for yourself.

Ten years on you still go to bed resenting the way they didn’t prepare any of you. Instead they made you sit in classrooms and learn about a country that had since crumbled and rotted away as the dead took over the cities and started to line every crack in each pavement.

You’re awakened from your thoughts by the sound of metal hitting the concrete. Her beloved knife slamming against the cold ground after a miscalculation of her party trick. “Be careful,” you tell her and she shoots you back a look that could kill you instantly.

“I’m hungry,” she eventually says after getting bored of her knife and losing interest in the comic, “Where’s Joel?”

“He’s in the other room,” you say as you silently order her to remain, “He’s tired. He needs a break and you have food in your backpack.”

She scoffs loudly in response this time, her signature eye roll accompanies it and you can’t help but choke out a laugh. “Eat. And get some rest. Lord knows how long we will be staying here.”

It’s cold. Colder than it has been in the past few weeks. A sign that winter is well under way and is likely about to get a whole lot worse. You’re holed up in an abandoned apartment. The building was surprisingly clear and secluded enough for him to deem fit to stay.

Of course he insisted that the large bookcase from the hallway was to be pushed in front of the door but seemed to almost relax a little when he realized there was no balcony or other way of entering or leaving the apartment than the front door.

Ellie had perked up a little once she saw the amount of reading material in the place, old newspapers, magazines and books. Enough to keep her entertained for a little while and a mattress that didn’t look too dirty in a room that she could have to herself. You were assigned the living room couch and Joel took the other room. He gave you a silent nod that told you to join him once she was definitely asleep.

Creeping into his room, you're surprised to find him awake. Silently watching you as you tiptoe over to the bed he’s sprawled out on and carefully climbing into.

“She asleep?” he asks as you tuck yourself in.

“Yeah. For at least an hour.”

He hums and your stomach flutters at the way his southern drawl seems to drip into every sound he makes.

“You tired, girl?” he asks as his eyes dart around the room seemingly looking at everything but you.

“No.” You respond and he wastes no time, he pulls the blanket from you and starts gesturing for you to take off your panties.

“Good, ‘cause last time you didn’t cum,” are the last words you hear from him before he’s impatiently yanking your underwear down the rest of your legs and spreading them in front of him.

Joel isn’t generally the most patient man but at this moment you’d never know. He’s got you exactly how he likes you, bare to him, pliant and ready to take whatever he’ll give you. And right now he’s savouring the view, slowly palming at the obvious bulge in his threadbare boxer shorts whilst bringing his tongue out to wet his lips.

“The prettiest goddamn pussy I ever saw,” he mumbles before running a finger through your slit and tutting at the obscene amount of arousal that coats it, “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper as his fingers work magic on your clit, “It’s all for you.”

“You gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” he asks before ripping his fingers away.

“Yes,” you immediately moan out, the loss of his fingers making you groan beneath him.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His face immediately dives into your pussy, his tongue licks a wide stripe through your folds and you whimper his name as his groans vibrate against your core; as he laps up the arousal that had started to spread down your thighs. The taste of you is heaven. Tangy yet sweet and the noises that filter through your lips as his tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves makes his cock throb even harder with need.

“Please,” you whisper as he teases a finger around your vagina, circling the entrance a few times before chuckling, “Please, Sir.”

And without a beat he thrusts two of his thick digits into your heat, curling them up into that spot that only he is able to find before thrusting them in and out of you.

He groans in delight as your fingers entangle in his locks, pulling on his curls as he sucks on your clit. You quietly chant his name as his lips let go of your clit, and his tongue begins its glorious assault on your bundle of nerves again. A moan of his name falls from your mouth before your thighs are squeezing tighter around his head and your pussy is clamping down around his fingers. It’s glorious, white explodes behind your eyes as your body convulses from the pleasure he rips from you.

He doesn’t stop, his tongue continues to lap against your clit, his fingers continue to work their magic inside of you and it becomes clear that this isn’t coming to be the only one he’s pulling from you with his mouth.

His fingers curl up against that spot inside of you one more time and you see stars, your body trembles and an intense pressure builds and immediately snaps as a trickle of liquid gushes from you and coats his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you splutter as you realize what you did, “I’ve never done… I’m sorry.”

You fingers unclench in his hair as you gently move his face away, finally getting a glimpse at the way your arousal is glistening on his face and beard.

“You apologize again and I’ll give you something to apologize for, pretty girl,” he warns before bringing the fingers that were buried in your cunt to his mouth and sucking them clean, “You want to sleep? Or do you want me to fuck this pretty little pussy?”

“You already know,” you mumble as you writhe beneath him, studying his face as he licks his lips, his eyes still focusing on your glistening cunt.

“Yeah, but I ain’t doing shit until I hear you say it, pretty girl.” He says as his eyes slowly sweep up your body and burrow into yours.

“I want you to fuck me, sir,” you say as he pushes your t-shirt above your tits, and bends down to take a nipple in his mouth. His teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his lips envelope it and he sucks hard. You moan quietly as he snakes his hand between you both and starts rubbing your overstimulated clit. He chuckles as you hiss as he works your clit. “I need you to fuck me, Joel.”

He lets go of your nipple with a loud pop before shaking his head. “Not good enough, girl,” he taunts before moving across to the other nipple.

“Please, Joel,” you beg as his nimble fingers work your clit a little harder and faster, “Need you inside of me. Need you to take whatever you need from… Please, please, sir, -ooh- please fuck me.”

His tongue teases your nipple as he pulls a third orgasm from you, “Let’s make this pretty pussy come around my cock, pretty girl.”

He finally pushes his boxers down and lets his cock break free, it bobs up and down a few times before he takes it in hand and strokes himself roughly a few times. You wet your lips at the sight, the tip of him almost purple with a bead of pre-cum that’s begging to be licked clear.

He reaches over and grabs his pillow with his free hand and you lift your hips for him ready to place it beneath you.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet for me now,” he orders as he lines himself up to your entrance and slowly pushes himself in. Your breath hitches at the stretch of him, and he takes it slow. No matter how many takes he fucks you, the way he fills your tight heat always takes a few moments for you to get used to.

“Like a fucking glove,” he murmurs as he waits for the okay to move, “Always feels so perfect around me.”

“Fuck me,” you moan as clamp down around him, “I need you to move.”

Without missing a beat, he pulls out and immediately pushes back in, his hips finding a steady rhythm as he fucks into you. His thrusts are perfectly precise; his cock dragging against that spot inside of you with every punch of his hips. “Good girl,” he grunts, “Always taking my cock so fucking good.”

You keen at his praise, your walls fluttering around his cock as he builds you up and towards the edge of paradise once more and then you see it.

It’s fleeting, unbearably quick and almost undetectable but you catch it. That look in his eyes again. The one that almost resembles hope, this time aimed at you and this time replaced by a look of exhilaration instead of misery as you clamp down around him. He continues thrusting in and out as you deliriously chant his name. You feel the warmth of his pleasure begin to coat your walls as you rip free his pleasure. A groan of delight floods the air with every one of his thrusts until you’ve milked him dry.

His mouth possessively envelopes yours and takes you by surprise as his tongue licks its way into your mouth. You keen at the feeling of his fingers gripping your jaw as he swallows the moans you breathe into his mouth. His teeth capture your bottom lip and he gently nibbles before letting it go and resting his forehead on yours.

You see it one more time, just as briefly as before, his lips slightly curling upwards before the ghosts of his past chase it away.

Hope? Excitement? Happiness?

He retrieves his pillow from your underneath your hips and snuggles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck.

“So, no one has ever made you squirt before, pretty girl?” He mumbles into your skin and you can feel the grin that’s clearly spreading across his face.

“Go to sleep, Miller,” you murmur back as you close your eyes. Enjoying the warmth of his skin settling onto yours.

Maybe you won’t ever truly know what it is, but what you do know is that you’ll give him whatever he needs to see it pass through his eyes again.

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #hbo the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #my fanfic #my fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou

705 notes · View notes