Such a perfect good girl for radiodaddy

🔞MINORS DNI MY PAGE!! 18+ 🔞 😈I like writing smut and all of it is reader x alastor😈 ❤️If you have story ideas you'd like me to consider send me a message and I'll try and write something based off it❤️🖋️📝 ✨ PanicRoomPrincess ✨

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Thought you'd all enjoy our sexy RadioDaddy doing a little shoulder shimmy ♥️

Sorry I've been inactive lately dealing with a lot have been for a while my mental health is really bad currently but I will be making more content as soon as I can♥️

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Frequencies

This was a super long one with an interesting plot. I was thinking to myself like imagine if alastor could do stuff like this with frequencies and that's why Vox desperately wanted him to join the vees. Like the whole little world I thought of that I wanted to be alastors little creation that he can control (kinda the frequencies have a mind of their own but they listen to him so like yes he can control or intervene) is so cool and I feel like Alastor is powerful enough to actually create something like this💁🏻‍♀️ anyways obviously it goes into smut because all my stories have smut but this one has plot with a really cool world in it so I hope you guys like it ❤️

Word count ~ 12,944

MDNI 18++++

The tower looms against the red horizon, a jagged silhouette carved from rust and silence. Wind whines through the cracks in the old metal as if the air itself remembers music that no longer plays. You push the warped door open, and the hinges scream before swallowing you inside.

The smell hits first - dust, ozone, and something faintly burnt, like the memory of a broadcast that never ended. A forest of cables snakes across the floor. You brush one with your boot, and it whispers across the concrete. The sound echoes too long, folding back on itself.

You tell yourself you're alone. But the stillness feels staged.

The tower hums under your fingertips when you touch the wall, as if a heartbeat has been trapped in the circuitry. For a moment, you could swear the static rising from an old speaker sounds like laughter - brief, low, and knowing.

Then it fades.

You move deeper. Light from the cracked windows spills in thin, red bars, and the shadow between them swallows your shape in strips. You can't tell whether the flicker is in the air or in your chest. Every step stirs a breath of sound - cables shift, metal ticks and somewhere, far above, something scrapes.

You stop.

A voice unfurls from the dark. Polite. Amused. "Now, isn't this an unexpected visitor."

The static breathes with it, and your pulse spikes. You turn toward the sound, but the shadows move faster.

He's not there - not yet - only his tone, rich and gleeful, spilling through the empty tower like smoke. "Do forgive the lack of hospitality. I don't often receive guests."

A gloved hand appears first, tracing along a hanging wire as though it were a violin string. Then another. The rest of him steps from the darkness with that ever-present grin - sharp, sincere, and wrong in ways your body recognizes before your mind does.

Alastor.

He's exactly as the stories whisper: a gentleman carved from static and red light, his smile stitched to his face like a signature. His eyes gleam with mirth, or hunger, or both.

He tips his head, one antler catching a beam of dying sunlight. "You've found quite the lonely place to wander. Tell me was it curiosity? Or were you looking for something you shouldn't?"

His words hum against your ribs. You try to answer, but the air thickens. When he steps closer, you realize it's not just the heat of Hell that makes your throat tighten - it's him, and the space he occupies, swallowing all others.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmurs, almost kindly. "This tower isn't for the curious. It's where the air keeps its secrets, and I..." His grin widens, voice dipping low, "I prefer to keep mine."

He's close enough now that you can feel the weight of his stare travel over your skin like a touch. The scent of old wood and radio static clings to his coat. One gloved fingertip catches your chin, lifting it with playful precision.

The contact is barely there - nothing more than the hint of control - but it freezes the world.

"So curious," he croons. "And bold, too. Tell me, do you always trespass into another demon's solitude?"

The question lands softly, but there's possession threaded through it, quiet and unmistakable. The tower hums again, lights twitching to life for half a heartbeat.

He leans in, close enough that his voice fills your ear. "I'd be careful, dear. Sometimes the things that watch from the dark... decide to keep what wanders in."

The grin never falters. The shadows around him stretch, slow and deliberate, like ink spilling from a broken pen.

And just before the light flickers out completely, you realize he's not blocking your path to the door - he's erased it.

The lights die with a sigh, swallowing the room in black. The hum of the tower deepens until it's almost a purr, steady against your skin.

You steady your breath. "I'm not afraid of you," you say into the dark.

A laugh drifts through the static - low, musical, impossible to tell where it comes from. "Oh, my dear, how refreshing."

Metal creaks above you. A spark flares for an instant, showing nothing but empty air - and then it's gone again.

"You think I want your fear?" His voice slides down the walls like velvet smoke. "No. Fear is such a dull currency."

You move toward the faint outline of a window, trying to trace your way back. The air trembles; he's closer again, voice at your shoulder.

"It's your nerve that interests me.”

You spin, but there's only darkness. Still, the sensation of him - the shape of his grin, the heat of his focus feels inches away.

"I said I wasn't afraid," you repeat.

"Indeed." A soft chuckle. "And yet you keep speaking to the dark. How bravely you court it."

Something brushes past your sleeve, light as static, gone before you can flinch.

You straighten, defiance holding your posture. "If this is your place, then show yourself. Or do you only talk from shadows?"

The tower hum rises, pleased. For a heartbeat, you sense him everywhere voice, echo, breath - and then one point of warmth: a hand closing over yours. Gloved. Cool.

"Careful what you wish for," he murmurs. "I do so enjoy a challenge.”

The lights stutter once, revealing him inches away, grin bright enough to cut through the gloom. His eyes gleam with a sharp amusement that reads like approval.

"There now. That's better," he says, tilting his head as if to study you. "Stand your ground. It suits you.”

You pull your hand back; he lets it go easily, as though the retreat itself entertains him.

"Defiance," he says, savoring the word. "Such a rare melody in this infernal choir. Don't lose it too quickly, hm? I'd hate to grow bored."

The tower hums again, deeper, like a heartbeat that isn't yours.

He gestures toward the stairwell leading up to the broken control room.

"Come along, little trespasser. If you're going to invade my little solitude, you might as well see the view from the top."

You hesitate, pulse hammering. He smiles wider, delighted by your pause.

"Ah, there it is," he says softly. "The moment between choice and surrender. My favorite sound."

And with that, he turns, walking into the dark - the path before you lit only by the ghostly glimmer of his radio-light grin.

The stairs groan beneath your boots as you follow him up the narrow, spiraling climb. The walls are a patchwork of rust and peeling paint, and the air grows heavier with every step as though the tower itself is holding its breath.

Alastor doesn't look back. He doesn't need to. His voice trails down like a thread, keeping you close. "Few sinners wander this far from the city. Tell me, what could possibly bring you to a place like this? Curiosity? Or something... darker?"

You catch a glimpse of him at the next landing: the cut of his shoulders, the faint red glow edging his silhouette. "Maybe I just wanted to see what you hide from everyone else,” you say.

He stops. The tower hums once, deep and approving.

"My, my. You do have spirit."

When he turns, the grin hasn't changed, but something behind it sharpens. He takes a slow step down toward you not threatening, not kind, but deliberate. Every inch he moves seems to pull the space tighter around you.

"Most would lie," he says softly.

"Pretend they came here by accident.

But you-"

He stops close enough that you can see the reflection of your own pulse flicker in his eyes. "You come looking for the monster and dare to look it in the face."

You meet his gaze without flinching. "Maybe I'm not as fragile as you think."

A flash of laughter crackles through the tower's intercom, distorted and delighted. "Fragile? No, no. Not that. You're a spark in a very dark place."

He moves past you, brushing by so close the static from his coat skims your arm. The faint scent of ozone and smoke lingers as he reaches the top of the stairs and gestures for you to join him.

The control room yawns open a cathedral of broken equipment. Dead monitors blink awake one by one, glowing with soft, distorted light. The radio tower outside hums to life as though answering his presence.

"This," he says, sweeping a hand over the ruin, "is where the world used to listen. Every voice that ever reached these wires... I can still hear them."

He glances over his shoulder, eyes glinting. "And now yours joins them."

You step inside, pulse steadying. "You think I came here to be part of your collection?"

He chuckles, low and rich. "No. But you walked willingly into a story that belongs to me. That's far more interesting."

He circles you slowly, not touching, yet every movement feels like a touch. "I wonder," he muses, "how long you'll keep that lovely defiance when the echoes start whispering back."

Your chin lifts. "Maybe I'll whisper louder."

For a moment, silence reigns. Then that grin spreads wider, genuine amusement breaking through the static.

"Oh, I do like you."

The tower answers him with a flicker of red light, every bulb pulsing once before settling into a dim, steady glow.

"Stay, then," he says, voice a velvet command. "Let's see which of us the dark listens to first."

And as his words fade, the static in the air deepens into something almost like a heartbeat one that seems to sync with your own.

The control room hums like a throat clearing before a song. Shadows ripple across the cracked tiles as if the tower itself listens. You stand in the center, back straight, eyes on him.

Alastor leans against a dead console, arms folded, grin fixed. He watches you the way a conductor watches an orchestra before the downbeat - eager to see what sound you'll make next.

"Most who stray in here," he says, voice like a radio tuned just shy of clear, "collapse at the first hint of static. But not you."

"I told you," you reply, "I'm not afraid."

His laugh isn't loud - it's soft, low, almost fond. "Fear is boring. But this..." His hand flicks toward you, gloved fingers tracing an invisible shape in the air. "This is interesting."

The machines flicker as if echoing his mood. A strand of hair falls across your face, and you brush it back, keeping your eyes on him. "Interesting enough to let me leave?" you ask.

"Oh no, no, no," he says, stepping forward. "You walked into the lion's den. You don't just stroll back out before the dance."

He stops close enough that you feel the static on your skin again. He doesn't touch you not yet - but the intent coils in the air like a storm waiting to break.

You lift your chin, refusing to back away. "Then dance, if that's what you want."

The tower hum rises, a chorus of invisible voices. He tilts his head, antlers catching the dim glow. "A challenge," he murmurs. "I do so love a challenge."

He moves behind you, slow and circling, his voice brushing your ear. "Do you know what happens to signals left too long in the dark? They echo. They distort. They become mine."

You shiver but stay still, your hands at your sides. "Maybe I'll distort you instead."

The laughter that follows is genuine and sharp. "Oh, my dear... keep that fire. Don't let this place take it from you."

For a moment his gloved hand grazes your shoulder, not a hold but a question. The touch is cool, precise, lingering only long enough to let you feel the weight of it before he draws back.

"You're a strange one," he says softly. "So many who come to Hell want to be owned. You, you want to stay standing."

You glance over your shoulder at him.

"Maybe I want to see if you can handle it."

His grin deepens. The static around you thickens like a promise. "Then by all means," he purrs, "test me."

The tower lights flare, casting you both in a blood-red glow. His shadow stretches, long and curling, like a net.

And as the hum deepens into a low, steady pulse, you realize he isn't just testing you anymore. He's already begun weaving something around you not a trap, but a claim disguised as a game.

The hum of the tower thickens until it feels alive, like a thousand whispered voices layered one over another. Dust drifts from the ceiling with every pulse, and your skin prickles as if the static is crawling just beneath it.

Alastor's grin stays in place, but there's a glint in his eyes that's less performance and more instinct. He steps around you again, one slow orbit, like a predator circling its quarry - but there's no rush to strike. Only study.

"You walk into Hell's quiet corners, places where things that don't want to be found lurk," he says, "and you look at the shadows instead of fleeing them. Very few sinners manage that, and fewer still get away whole."

"I'm not just any sinner," you say, turning your head to follow his movement.

That laugh again, low and warm, like an old radio tube glowing in the dark. "No, you're not. That's why I haven't swallowed you whole."

He stops directly in front of you, closer than before. The static in the air swells between you like a heartbeat. For a moment, he tilts his head and studies your eyes, as though reading the transmission behind them.

"You do know," he says softly, "that there are far worse things lurking around here than me?"

You don't step back. "Then why aren't you letting me go?"

A flicker of something passes across his face - not anger, not even amusement, but a kind of interest you can feel in your ribs. "Because," he says, "the wolves outside this tower would eat you without a thought. And because..." His grin returns, sharp as a blade, "I find I rather like the sound of you defying me."

He raises one gloved hand. A flick of his fingers and the dead monitors around you crackle to life with distorted images that you can only describe as being made up of just frequencies not actual images but a version of them: silhouettes of demons, fire-lit alleys, screaming mouths frozen mid-cry. “Hell," he says, "is a frequency. It tunes itself to what you are. And you, dear, are not yet tuned."

The distorted images vanish. Only static remains.

He steps closer still, so close you can smell the faint scent of scorched sugar and smoke in his coat. His hand hovers at your jaw again not a grip, but an invitation. "Defiance will keep you alive," he murmurs. "But it will also paint a target on your back. Remember that."

You tilt your chin, refusing to give ground. "And you?" you ask quietly. "Are you going to be the one to kill me or save me?"

His smile falters - not gone, just softer, almost human for a heartbeat. "Ah. There's that lovely question."

Then the grin returns, larger, a mask and a weapon both. "Why choose? I can do both."

He drops his hand and steps back, shadows sliding off his coat like ink. "For now, you'll stay here. With me. Until I decide you're ready to walk out of this tower without being torn apart."

The tower hum deepens, and the windows flash with red light like a heartbeat outside.

"You're not my prisoner,” he adds, eyes gleaming. "You're my... project. And perhaps-" his voice dips lower, rich and velvet, "-my favorite station to tune in to yet.”

The static in the room swells like a tide. It presses at your ears, filling the space between heartbeats. The tower isn't just humming now it's singing in a pitch only the two of you can hear.

Alastor straightens, unfolding to his full height. Shadows roll off him like velvet smoke, climbing the walls and ceiling. His grin sharpens. "If you've come this far," he says, "perhaps it's time you saw where the wires really lead."

The lights flicker once, twice, then die.

The monitors flare to life again, but this time they don't show Hell's streets.

They show endless corridors of static, hallways of red light, an entire world built of signals and whispers.

"That," he murmurs, stepping behind you, his voice at your ear, "is my own frequency, one I've created. My playground. Every echo, every scream, every song that's ever slipped between the living and the damned lives here."

You feel the air shift, cold and electric. His gloved hand brushes your shoulder again not a hold, not yet, but an unmistakable pull. "Step in," he says softly. "If you're so brave, come see the other side of the signal."

You plant your feet. "Why? So you can keep me there?"

The chuckle that answers you is rich, low, and genuinely delighted. "So I can see how long you'll stand when the ground itself starts to move."

The floor vibrates under your boots, cables snaking up from the cracks like black vines. They don't touch you, but they pulse with the same heartbeat as the tower. The glow from the monitors spills across your skin in bands of red and white, flickering as if trying to read you.

Alastor steps into your line of sight again. The grin is still there, but his eyes gleam with something like hunger and approval all at once. "Defiance is easy on solid ground," he says. "Let's see if you keep it when you're standing on nothing but my voice."

He extends a hand, palm up. Static jumps between his fingers like small, hungry lightning. "One step,” he says, velvet and command in equal measure. "Into my world. No chains, no tricks. Just... a look."

The pull in his voice is almost physical.

The monitors behind him flicker faster, each frame a glimpse of something vast and endless not Hell as you know it, but a labyrinth of signal and shadow where he reigns alone.

You hesitate, every instinct screaming at once. His grin softens not less sharp, but somehow warmer. "Ahh, there's that moment again," he whispers. "Between choice and surrender. Like I told you before, it's my favorite sound."

His hand stays outstretched, waiting, the static around it humming with possibility.

The monitors around you flicker faster, each frame a whisper of some impossible place - a hallway of shadows, a city made of radio towers, a sky of cracked glass with voices instead of stars.

Alastor's outstretched hand glows faintly with static. "One step," he says again, soft as velvet, "and you'll see the world through my eyes. Stay where you are, and you'll leave this tower exactly as you entered. The choice is yours, my dear."

The word choice hangs in the air like bait. His grin never wavers.

You swallow, pulse hammering. "If I step in," you ask, "do I come back?"

A flicker of teeth. "Do you want to?"

Your fingers twitch. You're still on solid ground, but the cables at your feet pulse like veins, and the glow from the monitors paints your skin in red and white. His hand waits, patient.

You draw a breath. "Maybe I—”

Static bursts like thunder. The monitors stutter. The cables surge.

Before the words leave your mouth, his gloved fingers close around your wrist not harsh, but absolute. The jolt of contact feels like plunging your hand into a stream of electric water.

He leans in close, grin razor-wide, voice low and delighted at your ear. "Ah, forgive me. I do so love a dramatic pause... but some stations deserve to be tuned by hand."

The floor vanishes.

It's not falling - it's being pulled. The tower peels away like a curtain, the walls dissolving into cascading lines of light and sound. The air tastes of metal and ozone, like a broadcast signal caught in your mouth.

Shadows and red light unfold around you in endless corridors. Voices whisper in a hundred languages. The world here isn't solid – it's a labyrinth of signals, static, and memory.

And at the center of it, Alastor stands with you, still holding your wrist, still smiling as though he's finally found a song he likes.

"Welcome," he says softly, his grip light but unbreakable. "To a frequency of my own creation."

The static hums under your skin like a second pulse.

He tilts his head, eyes drinking in your defiance as though it's a rare spice.

"Still standing?" he asks. "Still glaring?"

You plant your feet on the nothing beneath you and lift your chin. "You didn't give me a choice."

His grin softens into something stranger - not remorse, but admiration. "Oh, my dear,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a gloved fingertip, "you think that's the first thing I've taken from you."

The static deepens, the corridors bending closer, and for a heartbeat you can feel how vast this place is - how long he's been alone in it. His touch lingers only a moment, but the claim in it is unmistakable.

"Keep your fire,” he whispers. "You'll need it here."

The ground reforms beneath your feet if it can be called ground at all. It's a floor made of reflections, each pane of glass showing something different: faces, memories, flickers of laughter that aren't yours. The air hums like a cathedral organ tuned to static.

Alastor releases your wrist, but the echo of his touch lingers like a brand. "Ah," he says, sweeping his hand across the horizon, “isn't she lovely?"

The world stretches in every direction crimson light, endless cables rising into a sky that pulses like a heartbeat.

Towers float in the distance, connected by thin threads of gold. Each hums a note of old music, out of tune but hypnotic.

"Where are we?" you ask, voice tight.

"In the airwaves," he replies, as if it's obvious. "Between the broadcast and the silence. My little refuge."

He turns, watching you instead of the view. "Well?" he asks with a tilt of his head. "Do you like it?"

You can't answer right away. The place is magnificent and terrible - alive, yet empty. Every sound seems to breathe your name.

He chuckles softly. "Ah, that look. You feel it, don't you? The hum beneath your skin. The frequency finding its way through your veins."

You square your shoulders. "You mean the trap you pulled me into?”

He presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Trap? My dear, it's an invitation. You're walking inside a thought. Mine."

That's when you notice it - the way the red light bends around him, softer, almost protective, while the edges of your own reflection in the glass floors shimmer and flicker like a signal struggling to stay tuned.

You take a step back. "You mean to keep me here."

His grin returns, smaller this time but no less dangerous. "I mean to show you something. How long you stay is entirely up to you."

The glass beneath your feet ripples like water. Shapes move inside it, silhouettes of things that might be people or memories, all whispering at once. You press your palms over your ears, but the sound still finds you.

He's beside you in an instant, fingers grazing your shoulder, his voice softening for the first time. "Don't fight it. The more you resist, the louder it gets."

The air crackles. He smells of smoke and something sweeter, something almost warm. "Breathe,” he says. "There. Good. You're hearing my world now, not just seeing it."

You force a breath, the static in your head dimming just enough to think again. "Why show me this?"

Alastor's grin fades to something contemplative. "Because no one ever asks what it costs to be alone this long," he says. "Because I wanted you to understand what it means to live inside a signal that never stops."

He steps closer, eyes reflecting the world's glow. "And because you didn't run."

For a moment, the hum softens, the chaos holding its breath around you both. You meet his gaze and see a thousand voices flickering there's laughter, screams, music, silence.

"I'll find a way out," you whisper.

He laughs, but it's quieter now, almost fond. "I'd expect nothing less."

Then, almost gently: "Just remember even if you leave, some echoes never fade."

The static rises again, the world pulsing around you like a living thing waiting to see what you'll do next.

The static hum rises until it's a wind, a low growl pushing against your ribs. The glass under your boots ripples again, harder this time, as if the floor itself wants to throw you off balance.

Alastor lingers a few steps away, his cane resting against his shoulder, his grin razor-sharp and utterly still. "This place listens," he says softly. "It hears every thought. It doesn't like lies.”

You grit your teeth. "I'm not lying."

The ripples turn to waves. The silhouettes below the glass climb closer, pressing their hands against the underside like swimmers against ice. Their whispers shape into words now your words, thrown back at you in warped tones.

"Defiance," Alastor murmurs, his voice carrying above the noise. "Delicious."

You take a step forward, trying to steady yourself. The glass warps under your foot, but you refuse to flinch. The shadows below scatter like smoke.

The hum changes pitch, sliding from a growl to a hiss. The towers in the distance lean inward, their cables stretching until they form a cage of gold and black around you.

Alastor tilts his head, one brow rising in amusement. "It's measuring you," he says. "How much of you is real. How much is signal. How much is mine."

"I'm not yours," you shoot back, louder than you intended.

The world reacts instantly. The red light flares white-hot. The glass beneath you splinters, cracks spiderwebbing outward from where you stand. For a heartbeat you're sure you'll fall.

Then a hand catches your elbow. Gloved fingers, steady as iron. Alastor's smile hovers inches from your face, his eyes glowing faintly.

"I said it listens," he whispers, his breath cool against your ear. "I didn't say it was kind.”

The glass seals beneath you, whole again. The light fades back to red.

His grip stays on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. "Still standing," he murmurs, almost to himself. "Good."

You yank your arm free. "You set me up."

"Of course I did." His grin widens, but his eyes are darker now, more intent. "And you didn't break."

He circles you slowly, cane tapping against the glass. "This is why I like you. Hell is full of things that kneel before they're asked. You..." His eyes flicker up and down. "You glare."

The silhouettes below the glass fade back into static. The cables retreat, the cage dissolving. The hum softens, though it never goes silent.

Alastor stops directly in front of you again. "My world will test you as many times as it wants. I only interfere when it's about to take too much."

He leans closer, grin sharp but voice low, the faintest edge of warmth in it. "You've passed the first measure. The question is... do you want to see what comes next?"

Alastor's grin widens until it almost cuts his face in two. "Good,” he says softly, the static around you rising and falling like applause. "Then follow."

He taps his cane once on the glass.

The entire world bends. The endless horizon collapses into a narrow corridor of red and black, walls stitched from radio dials and old speakers that pulse like heartbeats.

Words in dozens of voices whisper from the seams snatches of songs, cries of despair, laughter cut off mid-breath.

Alastor steps into it as though it were a stage curtain, his coat tails flickering like shadows. He glances back over his shoulder at you. "Keep up, darling. It likes to close behind us."

You hesitate for only a second, then move. The glass under your feet becomes polished black tile, each step leaving a faint echo of your voice instead of a footprint.

The corridor narrows, but Alastor moves effortlessly, his silhouette tall and sharp against the glow. "Every broadcast leaves an imprint," he says conversationally. “Every plea, every confession. This is where they gather."

He gestures at the walls, at the hundreds of old knobs and dials spinning on their own. "Most of Hell never makes it this far. But you..." His grin flickers. "You already live on a frequency most can't hear."

You try to keep your tone steady. "Is that why you dragged me in? To show off your collection?"

"Show off?" He laughs, a low, rich sound. "No. To see if you'd survive it."

The corridor opens suddenly into a chamber vast as a cathedral, but made entirely of old radios stacked in towers. Each speaker hums a different note, the combined sound a strange, mesmerizing chord.

Alastor turns to face you in the center of it. "This," he says, spreading his arms, "is the heart of it. Every signal I've caught. Every voice that's ever reached for something in the dark."

You spin slowly, taking it in. The air here is thicker, warmer, full of ghostly breath. It's terrifying - and breathtaking.

Alastor steps closer, his voice lowering. "Do you hear it yet?"

You pause, listening. Beneath the hum, you hear something faint your own voice, whispering back at you from one of the speakers.

He watches your face as you realize it. "It's been listening to you since you stepped into the tower," he says. "You're inside it now."

Your stomach knots. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you haven't bowed,” he murmurs, eyes glinting. "Because even here, with every echo clawing at you, you still glare at me like I'm the only danger."

He steps closer still, shadows curling from his coat and licking at the floor like ink. "You're not like the others, and I..." His grin sharpens. "...I want to know how long you'll burn."

For a heartbeat you're aware of nothing but him, the heat of his presence, the static under your skin like a second heartbeat. The world of radios hums around you, waiting.

Alastor tilts his head, watching you with something halfway between hunger and amusement. "Shall we go deeper still?" he asks, voice velvet-dark. "To the place even I don't let the echoes touch?"

Alastor doesn't wait for your answer. He turns toward the far end of the chamber, and the forest of radios parts before him, opening a path that wasn't there before. Their humming dies, one by one, until the sound of your footsteps becomes the only thing left.

The silence that follows isn't empty. It has weight.

You follow, because there's nowhere else to go.

The corridor ahead is narrow and low, lit by a single thread of red light running along the ceiling. The walls are no longer glass or metal-they're something softer, darker, as if carved from sound itself. Each breath you take feels absorbed, swallowed.

Alastor walks a few paces ahead. His voice, when it comes, is calm. "Most of what I am lives here,” he says. "Where the noise stops."

You glance around. "You mean where you can be alone."

His laugh is quieter now, genuine. "Precisely."

The corridor opens into a small chamber, circular and bare. No lights. No machines. Only a faint red glow bleeding from the seams in the walls. The silence is absolute.

Alastor stops in the center and turns toward you. The grin is still there, but muted. "Everything else in my realm listens," he says. "This place does not. It's mine alone."

You cross your arms. "And you brought me here why?"

He studies you for a long time before answering. "Because I wanted to see what would happen if I let someone else hear nothing with me."

The words hang in the still air like a confession.

You hold his gaze. "You don't trust silence, do you?"

He tilts his head, eyes gleaming faintly. "It's not silence I distrust," he murmurs. "It's what it leaves room for."

The space between you is thick, a kind of gravity. He doesn't move closer, but the air seems to narrow until it's filled only with the two of you.

For the first time, the grin fades completely. "When the static stops," he says softly, "there's no one left to hear me."

Something in the chamber responds to that truth. The red glow deepens, pulsing once, like a heartbeat.

You take a step toward him. "Then why keep it all running?"

His eyes meet yours, sharp again, though the edge is different now-less performance, more need. "Because it keeps me from noticing how long I've been alone."

The silence stretches. You can feel the weight of his world pressing against the walls, as if even the static outside wants to listen in.

Alastor's smile returns, smaller, almost human. "And now," he says quietly, "I think you understand why I watch instead of speak."

He looks at you for a long moment, then turns away, facing the red-lit walls. "You shouldn't have come this far," he adds, not with anger but with something that sounds like regret. "It will remember you now."

You don't move. "Then you'll just have to make sure it doesn't forget me for the right reasons."

That earns the faintest laugh. "Ah,” he says. "Still defiant."

The red light flickers. The hum of the wider world begins to stir again outside the chamber.

Alastor glances back at you. "Come," he says, and there's something different in the tone-still commanding, still amused, but edged with respect.

"Let's see what the silence left behind."

When you step out of the quiet chamber, the sound returns all at once a low, thrumming hum that feels like thunder muffled under skin. The radios, the cables, the pulsing lights everything seems to breathe again. But it's different now.

They're not reacting to him.

They're reacting to you both.

Alastor pauses at the threshold, one gloved hand still resting against the frame of the doorway. The red glow glints along his sleeve. He doesn't look back right away. When he does, the grin is there - but dimmer, slower, as though some part of him hasn't come back from that silence.

"Curious," he murmurs. "It's never been this loud after I return."

The air around you buzzes faintly, a static that seems to follow your heartbeat. You can still feel the weight of that chamber behind your ribs - the emptiness, the closeness.

You cross your arms, but your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "Maybe your world noticed you weren't alone."

That earns a genuine laugh, low and smooth. "Careful, dear. You make it sound as though it had feelings."

You take a step closer. "Maybe it does. Maybe it learned from you.”

The grin flickers, a little sharper now. "I sincerely hope not. I'd hate to think it could get attached."

He turns to face you fully. The red light coils around him, making the edges of his form shimmer. The shadows stretch long between you, moving like water.

For a moment neither of you speak. The hum deepens, thick with something unsaid.

Finally you break the silence. "So what happens now?"

Alastor's eyes glint in the dim light.

"Now?" he says, voice low. "Now the frequency decides what to do with us.”

The ground beneath your feet ripples not violently, but almost like a breath. The air grows warmer. The glassy walls hum with a new tone, one that vibrates faintly in your bones.

You glance around. "Is that-”

He lifts a hand, cutting you off. "Shh." His smile curves slow, deliberate. "It's listening. And it's imitating us."

The hum shifts again, rising and falling like a heartbeat in sync with your own. The light pulses softly in time with Alastor's faint laughter.

He takes one step toward you. The sound responds.

You feel the shift before you even realize it - the entire world leaning closer, like it's drawn to the space between you. The air is electric.

Alastor's grin fades, though not entirely. "You see?" he says quietly. "Even the static understands tension."

His gaze drifts down, then back up to meet yours, steady and unflinching. "It amplifies what we bring into it."

You stand your ground. "And what do we bring into it?"

The corner of his mouth lifts, slow and dangerous. "A very difficult question," he says softly. "And one I'd rather answer... up close."

He doesn't reach for you right away. He waits - lets the silence grow thick again, until every breath feels heavy, until even the hum of his world seems to hold its breath.

When he finally moves, it's with that same old-world grace, closing the distance between you by inches. His shadow stretches over you, the scent of ozone curling in the air.

His voice drops lower, almost a murmur. "Tell me," he says, "are you still defiant?"

You meet his gaze, refusing to step back. "Always.”

The smile that follows is slow, genuine and something darker. His hand lifts, stopping just short of your face, fingers trembling with restraint rather than force.

"Good,” he whispers.

The air hums like a held breath.

The world around you seems to pulse, lights dimming, sound narrowing to a single, electric note - the static between two bodies on the verge of collision.

And then-

The signal cuts.

The signal shatters like glass.

Light floods back through the airwaves, and the hum collapses into silence.

The world around you folds in on itself radios, towers, corridors - all dissolving into static until the familiar outline of the old tower snaps back into focus.

You stumble once, breath sharp. The air smells of dust and ozone, the metal walls still vibrating faintly.

Alastor is there before you can regain balance. The grin is gone and in place a fake tight smile as if whatever he was thinking was troubling him. His eyes gleam faintly in the half-light as he steps forward, silent as a shadow.

The next moment, you're against the wall not pinned, not hurt, but enclosed. His hands brace on either side of your face, palms flat against the metal. The space between you hums like a live wire.

The tower's broken lights flicker once, bathing everything in red and gold.

"You still standing," he says quietly, voice roughened by the echo.

"Impressive."

You manage a breath. "You pulled me out."

"Of course I did." An actual smile returns, softer now in a way you've never seen, but the edge of it still sharp enough to draw breath. "I brought you in. I'll decide when you leave."

The air between you thickens; the static from the walls hums faintly in your bones. His shadow stretches up the wall behind you, long and crooked like a heartbeat made visible.

He leans closer, eyes locked on yours, and the grin falters just enough to show something deeper underneath curiosity, restraint, the smallest spark of something human.

"Careful," he murmurs, the words brushing your ear like a pulse. "You stay in my frequency too long, and you start to sound like me."

You hold his gaze, defiant to the end.

"Maybe you'd like that."

"Maybe I would, and maybe you'd like it if I could subdue your defiance and could show you how every little streak could unravel with my touch."

For the first time, you're left silent unable to form the words to respond. The silence between you swells, thick and electric.

For a moment neither of you moves. His breath drags slow across your cheek, warm and faintly sweet like burnt sugar. The hum in the metal around you buzzes in time with your pulse.

Then Alastor tilts his head as if he was waiting to hear how you would respond, the red in his eyes darkening, and his fingers slide from the wall to your jaw. His thumb traces the corner of your mouth, not rough, but claiming.

"Maybe," you murmur back, "I would."

Before you could process what you just admitted, he kisses you. Not a chaste brush—his mouth claims yours with a hunger he's clearly kept leashed for too long. His tongue teases at the seam of your lips, coaxing, testing, then deepening when you sigh against him. The static hum in the tower spikes, rattling through the floor like it's alive.

Your hands find the lapels of his coat without thinking, gripping him as he presses closer. His palm slides down your throat, thumb stroking over your racing pulse, and down to your shoulder, dragging across the thin fabric of your shirt. He's careful, but there's weight in the way he moves his body heat soaking into you, his hips nudging yours back against the cold metal wall.

When he pulls back just enough to look at you, his cocky grin is gone and even though he is still smiling you can see the hunger and barely controlled restraint in it. His voice is low, dark, curling against your ear. “Do you know how hard it is to hold myself back when you look at me like that?" His thumb grazes your lower lip again, eyes flicking down as you shiver. “You're trembling, little one. Tell me—are you trembling because you want me to touch you, to tame that fire inside you only to light a new one? One made of desire"

Your answer escapes as a breathless "yes."

He chuckles softly, almost a purr, and dips his head, his mouth at your throat. His teeth graze, his tongue soothes, his other hand sliding down to grip your waist. "Good..." he says against your skin, voice roughening. "Then let's start slow, before I lose what's left of my composure."

His fingers drag lower, tracing the curve of your hip, thumbs brushing just under the hem of your low cut shirt. He lifts it a little, enough for his palm to settle warmly on your bare skin. You feel the faint tremor in his breath as he presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another, then one lower, until his mouth is right above the swell of your breast, teeth just grazing the top of the fabric.

"You taste like static and heat," he murmurs against you, the words like velvet and danger all at once. His hand squeezes your waist just enough to make you arch toward him. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell me how much."

Your breath catches as his mouth travels lower, each kiss and graze of teeth through the fabric against your skin sending shivers down your spine. His palm moves deliberately along the curve of your waist, thumb brushing over sensitive skin just under your shirt.

"You like this, don't you?” he murmurs, voice low, buzzing faintly like the static in the tower. "You like the way I touch you... the way I claim you without even trying?"

You can't answer. All you can do is arch against him, thighs pressing together, stomach fluttering with the intensity of his closeness. The cockiness in his grin returns, wicked and sharp, but his eyes are focused, dark, predatory, watching your every shiver.

"That's it," he growls softly. “Don't hold back. Let me see it... let me hear it."

His fingers move, tracing slow circles along your hipbone, over your ribs, teasing every inch of skin he can reach. Each touch is measured, deliberate—he wants you trembling, wants you weak and desperate. He leans into your ear again, whispering low and filthy.

"You taste like trouble, like fire in the dark... like you've been waiting for me. And I've been waiting too, to see just how soft I can make you melt. Your little gasps, your shivers... all mine."

He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, dragging teeth lightly along the edge. His free hand slides up to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing along your trembling lips.

"Tell me, little one... do you want me to stop teasing, or do you want me to keep going?"

You moan softly, words failing, and his grin widens. "Good girl,” he purrs, voice low and rough. "That's the answer I wanted to hear."

His mouth finds your shoulder, biting just enough to make you gasp, then moving to kiss along your collarbone and the swell of your chest, teeth occasionally grazing fabric, palms pressing into your sides, holding you tight. He moves slowly, letting every inch of you feel his presence, his weight, the danger and the heat of him.

"You're already trembling for me," he whispers against your skin. “Do you feel it? How much you want me, how much you can't stop yourself?"

You arch harder against him, shivering, heat pooling through your body, your fingers clutching at his coat, trying to keep him close.

Alastor's grin sharpens again. "Good... that's exactly what I want. Every shiver, every gasp, every breath of yours... I could listen to it all night. And I intend to."

He trails his kisses back up to your jaw, holding your face between his palms, his breath hot and intoxicating. "You feel so damn good like this... soft, trembling, needing... and I'm going to make sure you remember every second of it tonight."

He leans in, mouth brushing yours, teasing your lips, pulling back just slightly, voice husky: "Tell me... tell me how much you want me. Let me hear it."

"I want you Alastor, please..."

Your back hits the cold wall as his hips press in, the hard thick line of him unmistakable even through his clothes. He tilts his head and kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue stroking against yours until you're moaning into his mouth. The static around you hums louder, like the tower itself is reacting to the heat between you.

His hand leaves your jaw and slides down your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt until you arch hard into his palm. "That's it," he growls, “arch for me. You feel how hard I am against you? That's all for you."

The other hand finds your hip, fingers digging in just enough to sting, pulling you tighter against him as he ruts slowly against you. His breath hits your ear, a low, filthy rasp:

“You're so damn warm... trembling, soaked already, aren't you? You've been thinking about all the things you want me to do to you, all the things I could do to you, I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt before."

He drags the hem of your shirt up with a slow, deliberate tug, exposing your stomach and then your breasts, then he unzips your skirt and tosses it aside. He wraps your panties around his finger and tears them off effortlessly like they were made of tissue paper. He hovers his lips in front of yours for a moment, so close you can feel the heat of his breath and when he kisses you his teeth graze your lower lip groaning from seeing you bare.

He trails kisses down your chest stopping at the swell of your breasts. His thumb circles one nipple while his mouth claims the other, sucking hard enough to make you gasp and clutch at his hair.

"Mmm,” he hums against your skin, voice dark and rich. "You taste even better than I imagined... soft little thing, squirming under me. Do you have any idea what I'm about to do to you?"

He lifts his head, eyes burning, mouth wet.

"I'm going to spread you open on my tongue until you're shaking and begging. Then I'm going to fill you with my cock, slow at first, then deeper, until you can't take another inch but you still won't want me to stop. You'll be dripping down your thighs, crying my name, and I'll still be holding you right here—exactly where you belong."

One hand slides down your belly, fingers slipping between your thighs. He finds you wet and aching, and his grin widens. “Look at that... already soaking. You want it, don't you?"

You nod frantically, gasping as his fingers circle your clit with slow, deliberate pressure. "Say it," he orders softly. "Say you want my cock."

"I want your cock." You finally whisper, he chuckles, low and rough, and presses harder on your clit, making your knees buckle. "Good girl. I'm going to make you scream for it."

He lowers his head again, lips brushing your inner thigh first, hot and teasing, teasing the skin just above where you ache for him the most. Your breath hitches, fingers clutching at his coat, pulling him closer.

"Mm... you're so wet already," he murmurs, voice husky and rough, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin of your folds just enough to make you shiver violently. "Do you feel that? All for me. Every little drop, every quiver... mine to taste."

He doesn't hesitate. His tongue slips in, teasing, flicking, pressing, dragging along you in a way that makes your thighs tremble and knees weaken. You arch, unable to control the way your body melts under him, your moans breaking against the metal walls of the tower.

"You sound so good,” he growls, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above, then licking in long, deliberate strokes. “So soft, so sweet... and I haven't even touched the best part yet. You're going to be begging me before I'm finished."

One hand drifts up to your hip, gripping it tightly, tilting you just enough so he can reach deeper. The pressure of his mouth and the flick of his tongue against your clit makes your head fall back, back arching, body trembling like you're unmade.

"Don't fight it, I know how bad you want to come undone for me." he whispers against your skin. "I want to hear you scream my name, little pet. You're mine, and I'll taste every inch I can, tease every nerve until you're shaking so hard you can't stand."

He works you with precision, rough and unrelenting yet maddeningly slow, savoring every gasp, every tremble, every shiver that runs through you. "Do you feel that? That's just my tongue. I haven't even gotten to what's coming next. And you'll take it... you'll take all of it for me."

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your chest rising and falling, every muscle taut with need. His filthy whispers keep spilling out between licks and nips, each one a promise of what he's going to do to you, each one driving you closer to that edge you can't yet touch.

"You taste so good... so perfect," he murmurs, voice low and throaty. "You're going to remember this. Every moan, every gasp, every sigh... mine, little one, all mine."

His tongue moves faster now, alternating between long, flat strokes and quick flicks over your clit until your thighs tremble uncontrollably. He hums against you, a low vibration that shoots straight up your spine.

"Just like that,” he murmurs between licks, his breath hot and ragged. "You're dripping for me. I can feel it on my tongue. Don't you dare hold back."

His fingers slide lower, slipping inside you as his mouth keeps working your clit. One, then two, pushing deep while curling up just right, finding the spot that makes your back arch off the wall. He doesn't give you time to adjust; he sets a rhythm, rough but precise, the wet sounds of his fingers mixing with the obscene sound of his tongue.

"Listen to that," he growls against your skin. "That's you-soaked, squirming, opening up for me. You've been starved for this, haven't you? Starved for someone to actually take their time, to make you scream."

He sucks your clit hard, then pulls back just enough to speak directly against it, voice dark and filthy. "I'm going to eat you until you come all over my tongue. Then I'm going to stand you up, flip you over, and slide my cock into you so deep you'll forget your own name."

You whimper, hips rocking against his mouth as his fingers thrust harder, thumb rubbing circles around your clit in tandem with his tongue. “That's it,” he hisses, voice rougher now. “Ride my mouth. Show me how bad you want it. Show me how wet you can get for me."

He pins your hip with one hand, holding you open, his mouth relentless. His teeth graze you lightly, then his tongue softens and teases, then hardens again. Every nerve feels like it's on fire, your thighs trembling, your breath breaking into ragged moans.

"Fuck, you taste perfect," he growls against you, words hot and vibrating with every breath. "I want you shaking. I want you screaming my name. And when you break, when you finally come, I'll still be here, licking every drop off my fingers before I fill you up with something thicker."

His fingers curl and press, hitting that spot again and again while his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking hard. The intensity leaves you shaking, your nails dragging down his shoulders as you feel the edge looming closer, his voice and tongue dragging you straight toward it.

Your body is trembling uncontrollably now, hips rolling against his mouth, fingers tangled in his coat as he holds you in place. Every flick of his tongue, every press of his fingers drives you closer, closer, until you can feel the edge that's been building for what feels like hours.

"Shh... that's it," he hisses, voice low, rough, vibrating against your clit. “Let go for me. Come all over my tongue. Give it to me, little one."

He curls his fingers inside you just so, circling the spot that makes your back arch impossibly high. His tongue moves with precision, sucking and licking, teasing and pressing, never letting up, and you can't hold back anymore. Your legs shake, hips buck, and your breath breaks into ragged gasps.

"Oh... fuck... Alastor,” you whimper, voice cracking, as your body folds over the edge. Your muscles clench, shudder, and he keeps going, swallowing every moan, every whimper, every tremble, holding you right on the edge and past it.

"You're mine,” he growls, mouth and fingers relentless. “Mine to make come, mine to hear scream my name. Every little drop, every gasp, every shiver... you're perfect for me."

Your nails dig into his shoulders as your body shakes violently, and he doesn't stop. He hums against you, deep and dark, letting the vibration travel straight into your core while his fingers curl perfectly, riding you through every pulse.

"Such a good little thing,” he whispers, dragging his teeth lightly across your inner thigh. "You came for me... all for me. And you'll take more soon. Oh yes, you'll take it all."

He finally pulls back slightly, just enough for you to catch your breath, your thighs still trembling around the space where his fingers and mouth held you hostage. He grins wickedly, eyes glowing, and leans close enough to whisper against your ear:

"You taste divine... but I haven't even begun. Soon, I'll fill you up, stretch you, own every inch, and you'll be screaming my name again. But for now... rest. Tremble. Remember what I promised, little one."

His hands slide along your sides, steadying you, while his gaze roams over you like he's memorizing every curve, every shiver, every fleck of sweat. His breath is hot against your neck, his grin wide, sharp, dangerous... and utterly irresistible.

Your whole body trembles against the cold wall, muscles clenching around nothing as the aftershocks roll through you. Alastor doesn't step back. His hands stay firm on your thighs, palms sliding up to grip your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp again.

"Rest," he murmurs, voice low and dark, lips brushing your ear. “I said rest... but I didn't say I was finished."

Before you can process the words, he's already moving. He pulls his fingers from you slowly, dragging them up to your lips and pressing them there until you taste yourself on his skin. “Look at you," he growls, eyes burning. “Still shaking... still soaking... and I'm not even inside you yet."

He stands, towering over you, his body heat flooding against your trembling frame. With one hand, he turns you around, pressing your palms flat to the cold wall, your cheek against the metal. The other hand trails down your spine, claws lightly scratching, then sliding to your hip.

"Stay right there," he orders softly, the softness somehow more dangerous than any shout. "Catch your breath... because you're about to lose it all over again."

You feel the hard weight of him press against you from behind, still clothed, the sheer size of him making your pulse spike. He leans in close, lips against your ear.

"I'm going to slide into you now," he whispers, voice rough enough to make your knees weaken. "Slow enough that you feel every inch stretch you open... then harder, until you're clawing at the wall. You're going to take all of me, every inch, every pulse, until you forget your own name and can only scream mine."

He pulls back just enough to tug his belt loose, the sound of it sliding free low and heavy in the dim tower. You glance back over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him-big, thick, dark, the sight making your breath stutter.

"Don't be scared,” he purrs, pressing the head of his cock against your slick entrance, circling it there, teasing, smearing you with your own wetness. “I'II start slow... but you're going to take me. All of me. And you're going to love it."

He pushes forward just an inch, the stretch making you gasp and grip the wall. "That's it," he growls, breath hot at your ear. "Open for me. Good little thing. So fucking tight.”

Another inch slides in, the burn sweet and sharp, his hand moving to your clit, rubbing in slow circles as he eases more of himself into you. “Shhh,” he whispers, "let me in. Feel how big I am? That's what you wanted, isn't it? That's what you've been begging for without words."

He pulls back almost all the way, then pushes forward again, a little deeper, a little rougher, the stretch nearly overwhelming but his fingers on your clit making you moan instead of cry out.

“That's it,” he hisses. “Take it. Take every inch. I'm going to fuck you until you can't stand, until you can't think, until the only thing left in your head is me.”

He pushes deeper, inch by inch, until the stretch is almost unbearable, his breath hot against your ear. His hand on your clit doesn't stop, circling and pressing until you're gasping, your body caught between the burn of him filling you and the pleasure building under his fingers.

"That's it..." he growls, voice low, guttural, vibrating against your skin. “I can feel you fighting it, still trying to hold on to that little streak of defiance." He snaps his hips forward suddenly, burying himself to the hilt, and you cry out, nails scraping against the metal wall. “But it's slipping, isn't it? Right here, right now, you're finally giving it up. For me."

He pulls back and drives forward again, harder this time, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the tower. His grin is wicked and sharp, but his eyes are locked on you like a predator watching its prize. “You've been holding that fire inside you, pushing every man away, refusing to bend... but look at you now. Shaking around my cock, letting me drag every last bit of that defiance out of you."

He sets a rhythm, long, deep thrusts that push you up the wall, every inch hitting a spot so sensitive you're moaning with every movement. His fingers stay on your clit, working you in time with his hips, and the filthy rasp of his voice keeps spilling against your ear:

"Such a good little fighter... but I knew from the moment I saw you. I knew you'd break for me. Not because I made you... because you wanted to. Because you needed someone strong enough to take you where you've never been."

Another hard thrust and you whimper, your body starting to tremble around him. He groans, low and dark, his pace getting rougher, hands gripping your hips so tight you can feel the marks he's leaving.

"That's it," he hisses. "Take it. Take every inch of me. Every thrust, every pulse.

You're mine right now. All that defiance you wore like armor? Gone. All that's left is you, open and perfect, clenching around me."

He pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in, the force of it knocking a sound out of your throat you've never heard yourself make. He chuckles darkly, lips at your ear. “Hear that? That's you breaking for me. That's you loving every second of it."

He drives into you again, the rhythm rough now, hips snapping forward so hard your body arches off the wall. His fingers on your clit never falter, dragging you right back to the edge.

"God, you feel so good,” he rasps, voice shredded with want. "I can still taste that defiance on your tongue even when you're moaning for me.” His teeth graze your jaw as he leans in, speaking against your skin. "Keep it. Keep that fire. Show it to the whole damn world. Don't you dare let anyone dim it."

Another thrust, deeper, harder. His hand leaves your clit just long enough to grip your chin and force your eyes to meet his glowing red ones. “But when you're here," he growls, "when you're under me, when I'm inside you like this—" he slams forward, burying himself to the hilt, making you gasp— “that's mine. That fire bends for me."

He kisses you then, rough and wet, his tongue claiming your mouth the way his body claims yours. When he pulls back, his voice drops to a dark, velvet promise:

"I'll never take your choices from you. I don't want a doll. I want you." His grip on your jaw tightens just enough to make you shiver. “But I will not tolerate you letting anyone else control you or tell you what to do. That job-" he thrusts again, harder, making you cry out- "that job belongs to me when I fuck you."

His other hand drops back to your clit, circling it with relentless precision. "Do you understand?" he hisses against your lips, hips rolling into you with each word. "Out there you can be as untouchable as you want. In here..." Another thrust, harder still.

"You're mine to take apart. Mine to rebuild. Mine to make come."

He doesn't wait for an answer; his rhythm becomes brutal, every stroke knocking a sound from your throat you didn't know you could make. “Now show me," he growls. "Show me how my defiant little pet comes undone when I claim her properly."

Alastor doesn't ease up; his pace becomes a punishing rhythm, hips snapping forward with a growl deep in his chest. Every thrust drives you harder against the cold metal wall, your palms splayed flat, trembling from the force of it.

"Look at you,” he hisses, dragging his tongue along your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. "So fucking tight around me... every time I push in, you clutch at me like you're scared I'll stop." He chuckles darkly, breath hot against your skin. “I'm not stopping. Not until you break for me."

His hand at your clit moves faster, fingers circling with ruthless precision, never missing a beat. “I want to feel it,” he growls, voice low and filthy. "I want to feel that perfect little body shake when you finally give in. No more holding back. No more defiance here. Not now."

He slams forward again, burying himself to the hilt, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing off the walls. His thumb flicks your clit just right, and your whole body jolts.

"That's it..." His eyes glow brighter, grin gone now, replaced with a hunger that's almost reverent. “You're right there, aren't you? You're going to come on me, and you're going to remember exactly who made you lose every last shred of control."

His voice dips into a low, dangerous purr as he speaks against your lips:

"Come for me. Come while I'm inside you. Let me feel it. Let me taste the moment my defiant little pet finally breaks."

Another thrust, even harder-his fingers on your clit press down and roll just right— and the world goes white-hot.

Your body convulses around him, a cry ripping from your throat you didn't know you could make. He groans low and dark, hips rolling through your orgasm, riding it out, still rubbing your clit, still talking against your ear:

"That's it... come for me. Shake for me. Show me what it looks like when you're mine."

You're trembling uncontrollably, walls fluttering around him, every nerve ending lit up. He draws it out, slow, relentless strokes until you're gasping, nails scraping the wall, body gone liquid and trembling under his hold.

Finally, he stills, still buried deep inside you, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding up your stomach to your throat, just resting there—not choking, just feeling your pulse race against his palm.

His lips hover at your ear, voice ragged and low:

"Good girl. That's what I wanted. All that fight... all that fire... and then this. You coming apart on my cock.”

He nips at your jaw once more, a wicked smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"And we're nowhere near done."

Alastor pulls out of you slowly, almost painfully, letting the tip drag against your walls until you're shaking again. His fingers tighten on your hips and then-without warning-he spins you, guiding you backward until you're sitting on the edge of the low console in the tower. The cold metal bites your thighs; his hands don't leave you.

"Eyes on me,” he orders, voice low and dangerous. "I want to watch you come apart."

He spreads your legs with an almost lazy strength, stepping between them. The glow in his eyes flares, and that grin slides back into place as he strokes his cock once -thick, hard, glistening with you before lining it up again.

"You're going to take me like this," he murmurs. “Right here, where I can see every flicker of defiance and every moment you lose it." He pushes forward, the head of him stretching you, filling you inch by inch until you're crying out again.

"Look at me,” he growls. “Don't hide it. Show me." His hands grip your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he begins to thrust, slow at first, then harder, building a rhythm that rocks your body against the console.

With every snap of his hips, he talks, voice filthier, rougher:

"You feel that? That's me claiming every sound, every tremor. You're shaking already. So wet, so open, and still trying to fight it. I love it. I want you to fight everyone else, but with me..." His hand slides up your throat again, tilting your chin so you can't look away. “...with me you give in. You look at me while I take you. You show me how much you want it.”

His other thumb finds your clit again, circling in tight, relentless circles while he pounds into you. “This is what I wanted, from the second you challenged me and I saw the fire in your eyes." he growls, eyes burning into yours. “You're mine right now. Every breath. Every shiver. Every moan."

The room vibrates with the static, red-gold light flickering over his face as his pace becomes brutal, precise. Your hands claw at his arms, your head tipping back but his grip on your throat forces your gaze back to his.

"That's it," he snarls. "Stay with me. Don't you dare look away. I want to see your face when you come for me.”

He thrusts harder, thumb working your clit mercilessly, the sound of your moans echoing off the walls. His grin is gone now -his expression dark, intense, hungry as he watches your body tremble.

"You're going to break on my cock right here, while I'm looking at you. You're going to come screaming my name and you're going to know exactly who owns this moment."

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing ragged, still pounding into you. "Show me, little pet. Show me what it looks like when you can't fight it anymore."

Another thrust-deeper, harder and your vision shatters. The orgasm rips through you, body arching, trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders. He watches every second of it, eyes locked on yours, thumb still circling until you're gasping and crying out.

"That's it," he groans, voice low and filthy. "That's my girl. My defiant little thing, breaking only for me."

Alastor doesn't pull out when your orgasm hits. If anything, it makes him more feral. He waits until the tremors start to fade, then pushes you back just enough so your spine rests against the console and your feet leave the floor.

"Up," he growls, voice a low rasp. Before you can protest, his hands hook behind your knees and fold you open, pushing your thighs tight to your chest. The position forces you wide, vulnerable, every inch of you exposed to him. His cock presses at your entrance again, still slick, still impossibly hard.

"This," he murmurs, eyes locked to yours, “is how deep I want to be when you come again."

He slams into you in one brutal stroke, so deep you swear you can feel him in your lungs. Your back arches off the console, a raw sound tearing from your throat. He doesn't let you hide, palms braced on your legs to keep you open, thumbs biting into your flesh as he begins to piston into you, hard and relentless.

"Look at me,” he snarls. “I want you to see exactly who's making you feel this. No one else has ever touched you like this. No one else ever will."

The rhythm is punishing-deep, sharp thrusts that make you gasp with every stroke. His chest brushes your knees as he bends over you, mouth at your ear, words filthier now:

"Feel how far inside I am? You're stretched so tight around me you're shaking. You're going to come again with me buried to the hilt, and you're going to feel me every time you walk for days."

His hips snap forward harder, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing against the walls. One hand leaves your thigh long enough to find your clit again, thumb circling it with brutal precision. “Come on, little pet," he hisses. "Come for me like this. Show me you're mine.”

You're already trembling, the tension coiling low in your belly, and his words push you over the edge. The orgasm hits harder than the first, your body arching into him, your nails clawing at the metal beneath you. You cry out, shuddering as the waves roll through you, and he keeps moving, drawing every last tremor from your body.

"That's it," he growls against your neck, still thrusting, his pace erratic now. “That's what I wanted. You breaking on my cock twice in a row."

He presses deeper, hips grinding into you, voice dropping to a dark promise: "I'm going to fill you so deep you'll be dripping with me for days. Every step you take, every time you move, you'll remember exactly what I did to you."

His teeth graze your jaw as he hammers into you, his control fraying. "Say it,” he growls. "Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to fill you until you can't hold another drop."

Your voice breaks into a gasp, but you manage to choke the words out between his thrusts. "I... I want it-" Another hard snap of his hips, your body jerking against the console. “Fill me... please, Alastor... fill me..."

The sound he makes at that hits somewhere between a growl and a laugh, low and dark. His thumb keeps circling your clit, his cock driving into you hard enough that the metal beneath you rattles.

He bends over you until his forehead touches yours, eyes burning red.

"That's my girl," he rasps. "Begging for me. Shaking for me. Mine."

His pace turns erratic, deeper and deeper until you're sure he's as far inside you as anyone could ever be. The words spill from him like a promise, like a curse: "You're never walking away from me. Not now, not ever. You're mine for the rest of our afterlives. Every inch of you. Every breath.

Every sound. Mine."

Another thrust—hard enough to make your knees slip from his shoulders, but he catches them, holding you wide open. "Say it," he demands, voice raw. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you gasp, eyes locked to his, body trembling. “All yours—”

That does it. He growls, the sound low and feral, and drives himself to the hilt one last time, hips grinding against you as his release hits. Hot, thick pulses fill you, and he doesn't stop moving, keeping himself buried deep as his cock throbs inside you. His thumb never leaves your clit, coaxing every aftershock from you until you're a shuddering mess under him.

"Take it," he hisses, teeth grazing your jaw. "Take all of it. Feel it dripping out of you for days and remember who put it there."

You whimper, body arching as another tremor rolls through you. He stays pressed to you, cock still deep inside, his breathing heavy but steady. His fingers loosen on your thighs, his eyes softening just enough to show satisfaction behind the hunger.

His voice drops to a murmur against your ear: "I'll never let you go. With everyone else, keep your fire, keep your fight. But here-" he thrusts shallowly once more, making sure you feel every inch still inside you "here you're mine. And no one will ever take this from you."

He stays there like that, your legs still folded open around him, your bodies locked together, the echo of his promise and the weight of him inside you making it impossible to think about anything but him.

He stays deep inside you, hips flush against yours, and the tower feels like it's stopped breathing. Only his heartbeat, heavy and deliberate, and yours, fast and wild. His palms slide up the backs of your thighs, kneading the flesh as if he's trying to memorize it.

"Do you feel that?” he murmurs, voice still dark but slower now, almost a purr. “You're stretched perfectly around me. Still pulsing, still holding me so tight. Fuck..." his thumb drifts lazily over your clit, making your body shudder again, "...you took every inch of me like you were made for it."

He leans in closer, forehead brushing yours, eyes locked to your face. "Look at you. Shaking, dripping, glowing. You don't even know how good you look when you're undone like this.” Another small roll of his hips inside you, slow but deep enough to make you gasp. “Perfect. Obedient. Mine."

Then, as his thumb leaves your clit and his hand moves up to cradle your jaw, his tone softens still low, still rough, but warmer, wrapping around you like static turning to a hum. "You did so well for me, little pet. Every tremor, every gasp, every time you gave me what I asked for... perfect."

His thumbs stroke your skin at your temples, grounding you, keeping your gaze on his. "Breathe,” he whispers, the command gentle. “Just breathe for me."

He stays inside you, unmoving now, as his fingers trace slow circles over your hips and thighs. "You're safe. Right here. With me. No one touches you like this. No one takes from you like this. And when you're with me..." he presses his lips to your temple, "...you get to stop fighting. You just feel."

A long moment passes, his breath steady against your skin. Then he begins to pull back slowly, sliding out of you inch by inch, his hands following the movement to steady you as you slump back onto the cool metal. He watches your face as he leaves you empty, a small sound escaping you at the loss, and he catches you, pulling you forward into his chest.

His voice is softer still, a rumble against your ear. "That's my girl. You're okay. You did so good."

He tucks you against him, his coat warm against your back. His fingers stroke your hair, smoothing it, then drift down to trace patterns across your spine. "Breathe. Drink some water. Let the world come back when you're ready. You're not alone in this."

He kisses the top of your head, still murmuring low praise between breaths-how perfect you felt, how proud he is, how good you did—until the static of the tower fades and the only thing left is his warmth, holding you there.

(I had credits for this photo somewhere and I cannot find the artists name or original photo anywhere anymore please if you know comment it so I can give proper credits to the artist!)

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Hi queen!

I got an idea for a fic and wanted to just put it out there so it stops bothering me.

So yk how theres different rings? Imagine reader being like the “queen” of limbo. Not rlly a ring, but is a ring? She’s not rlly a sin either. And theres constant misconception about her ring being absolutely nothing, eternal darkness, empty — when it’s anything BUT.

Her limbo is a kind of dreamland, her limbo is where forced religious souls went, where people who should’ve ended up in heaven but couldn’t quite make it, where the most heaven worthy and redeemable souls lie. All those ethereal pictures? The ones in the sky with multiple moons and clouds with waterfalls? And the ethereal gardens and forests? That’s all reader’s limbo.

Then blah blah blah: x alastor, blah blah blah

Hmmm I'm working on a few right now but I will definitely keep that in mind cause it sounds super cool! I could like do it based off Alastor stumbling accidentally into an ethereal forest and that's how he finds the reader for the first time

[toasteaa]

"Wow, you talk about that character a lot" I want to fuck him.

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Just yes💁🏻‍♀️

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Unfinished Business

This is pure smut, pretty much no

plot or intro

!!!! MDNI 18+ !!!!

Trigger warning ~ kinda CNC kinda not ~

Hope you guys enjoy sorry I've been inactive for a bit, been dealing with some personal issues but I have more spicy smut in the works! ❤️

Word count ~ 3,926

The hotel was quiet that night, too quiet. You padded barefoot down the hallway, tugging your oversized shirt lower on your thighs as you moved.

Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the way Alastor had been watching you all week - smiling that razor-edged smile like he already knew every dirty thought that crossed your mind.

You barely made it into your room before the lights flickered, the air thickened, and the door slammed shut behind you.

"Good evening, my dear..." Alastor's voice rolled through the shadows like a velvet knife. He stepped out of the darkness, tall frame blocking your only exit, eyes glowing like firelight. “I do believe you and I have... unfinished business."

Before you could gasp, his hand was on your throat, not tight enough to hurt but firm enough to make your pulse skyrocket. He shoved you back onto the mattress, the springs groaning under the sudden weight of him pressing down.

"You said you liked dirty talk," he purred, lips brushing your ear. His cock strained against his slacks, and he ground it hard against you, making your body betray you with every shiver. “I wonder just how filthy you're prepared for me to be..."

His free hand slid under your shirt, finding your clit with cruel precision. You tried to protest — half-whimper, half-moan but he only chuckled darkly, rubbing slow circles until your thighs trembled.

"That's it," he murmured, voice dropping into a growl. “Moan for me. You'll take every inch of my cock tonight. I'll split you open, stretch that pretty little hole until you're dripping down my length, until you can't even think about anything else but how deep I am inside you. You'll beg for it. And when I'm done? You'll remember exactly who owns this cunt."

His teeth grazed your jaw, nipping hard enough to make you gasp, then soothed it with a wet swipe of his tongue earning another moan from your lips. He laughed low, satisfied.

"Such sweet sounds already. I haven't even started breaking you yet."

Alastor shifted his weight, sliding down your body until his hips pinned you to the bed. His smile widened as he unfastened his belt slowly, the leather whispering through the loops. The sound alone made you clench.

"Eyes on me,” he ordered softly. “You're going to watch. You're going to see exactly what you begged so sweetly for."

"Yes sir," you whisper.

"Good girl." he tugged his zipper down and freed thicker and longer himself, and your breath caught. His cock was huge bigger than any you'd imagined the flushed head already slick with pre-cum. He let it drag across your stomach, leaving a wet, hot trail as he ground himself just below your navel.

"See that?” he murmured, red eyes burning into you. "This is what's going to split you open. You're going to feel every inch sliding into you until you're stuffed full, screaming, dripping. You'll fight, you'll squirm, you'll cry a little... and you'll still take it all because that's what you're made for."

He reached down, catching your chin in his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze straight on.

"Open your legs ma cherie. Wider."

Your body obeyed before your mind caught up. He smirked and pushed his palm back between your thighs, fingers sliding through your wetness before circling your clit with a wicked rhythm.

Alastor groaned and the way he sounded instantly added to your arousal. "That's it. Already soaked for me, and I haven't even given you half of what I plan to. I'm going to make you cum on my cock over and over until you don't know where you end and I begin."

He leaned down, breath hot against your ear.

"I'm going to make you choke on it after I've made you cum so you can taste how exquisite we taste together. Feel the head hit the back of your throat, feel it pulse there while you're drooling and gagging and looking up at me with those pretty doe eyes of yours. Then I'll shove it back in this tight little cunt until it swallows me to the base. Every thrust will bruise, every push will make you scream my name, and you'll love every second of it."

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing mercilessly until your hips jerked off the mattress. He chuckled darkly.

"See? Your body's already begging. I'll ruin you my pet. I'll mark you inside and out, and when I'm finished you'll never forget who made you break."

He guided the thick head of his cock to your entrance, teasing, dragging it against your soaked folds, smearing himself in your slick. He didn't push in yet.... He just kept on rubbing, circling, letting the sheer size of him scare and excite you both at once.

"Tell me," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "Do you want it? Do you want me to stuff this cock in you until you can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but take me?"

You could barely get the word out, but you nodded frantically, whispering a breathless "yes."

Alastor's grin turned feral. "That's my good girl.”

Without warning, he pressed forward, the swollen head forcing past your entrance. The stretch made you gasp, your nails clawing at the sheets as your body tried to adjust. He didn't let you. His hand clamped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your pulse hammer in your ears while he slammed into you mercilessly.

"Too much already?" he taunted, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in so you felt every inch. “I've barely started. You're going to scream while I'm buried to the hilt. And I'll keep pounding until this pussy molds itself around my cock."

He thrust harder, the thick length dragging a cry from your lips. Tears pricked your eyes as he bottomed out with every thrust, his girth filling you completely.

"Fuck,” he groaned, voice low and vicious. "So goddamn tight. Like you were made to be split open by me. Do you feel that, baby? Every vein, every inch stretching you? This isn't a cock you forget. This is the one you'll crave when you're shaking in your bed at night, touching yourself, trying to pretend anyone else could compare."

He pulled back and slammed in again, the force rattling your bones. His pace was unforgiving, hips snapping against yours, his cock punching deep every time. The bed creaked under the violence of it, his grip on your throat keeping you pinned like prey.

"You're mine," he snarled against your ear. "This cunt—mine. This body-mine. I'll make you cum until you're sobbing for mercy, until you can't even say my name without shaking. And you're body will still beg me not to stop."

All you could do was moan loudly, you were sure everyone in the hotel could hear your wonton cries.

His free hand slid between your legs, thumb grinding your clit brutally as he fucked into you. Your body convulsed, pleasure and pain crashing together, dragging a scream out of your throat.

"That's it," he purred, thrusting harder. "Cum for me. Make a mess on my cock. I want to feel you clamp down, milk me, beg me for every drop I give you. Because I'm not stopping until this pussy is wrecked and dripping with me. I'll cum so much and so deep inside you I'll be dripping out of you for days”

He bit down on your jaw, teeth sharp enough to make your whole body jolt.

"Do you feel that?" he hissed. "You're breaking for me. Just like I promised you would. And I haven't even showed you all the filthy things I'm going to do to you."

Your whole body locked up around him, the overstimulation hitting like a live wire. You tried to cry out but only a choked whimper came out as your orgasm tore through you. Your hips jerked wildly, thighs trembling against his, and still he didn't let go of your throat.

"That's it," Alastor rasped, eyes glowing even brighter as he watched you come undone. “That's it, exactly what I wanted. That helpless little shudder when you realize you're gone, when you realize you are mine."

His thumb stayed on your clit, dragging rough, unrelenting circles even as you convulsed under him. He didn't give you the space to breathe or come down. Instead, he slammed into you harder, cock slick with your release, driving to the hilt again and again.

"Look at you,” he growled, voice almost a snarl. "Shaking, drooling, still trying to get air. And yet your cunt's still grabbing me, still pulling me deeper because it knows it belongs to me. It knows I'll give it exactly what it needs. You're going to cum again whether you want to or not because your body does."

He hooked a hand under your knee and shoved it higher, opening you even wider, changing the angle so you could feel him go past your cervix with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, wet and obscene mixed in with your screams and moans. Every nerve in your body was alive and screaming. You were begging for him to slow down or give you a break.

"I'm not stopping,” he hissed against your ear. "I'm going to fuck you through the first orgasm, the second, the third. I'll keep you pinned, keep you full, keep you crying and begging until you can't tell if it's pain or pleasure. That's how you're going to learn what it's like to be ruined properly."

You clawed at his arm, trying to push at his chest, but it only made him laugh low and dark.

"That's adorable,” he taunted. “Fighting me while your hips are already rolling back into my cock. You don't even realize how much you're asking for it."

"Alastor please, s'to much" you pleaded barely able to get the words out. He only responded with a laugh.

He drove into you harder, faster, thumb grinding down mercilessly. The pleasure spiked so hard it bordered on unbearable, a high-pitched noise escaping your throat as your second orgasm slammed into you, even more violent than the first.

"Yes,” he snarled, his voice cracking with lust. "That's what I want. Cum again. Shake for me. Break for me. You're not done until I say you're done."

He pressed his forehead to yours, panting, still moving inside you with brutal precision.

"I'm going to fill you,” he whispered. "Going to keep thrusting until you're dripping down your thighs, until you're marked everywhere, inside and out. And then I'll still have more for you."

He slowed just enough to grind deep, keeping every inch buried inside you while your second orgasm still rattled through your body. His grip on your throat tightened, tilting your head back so you couldn't look away from him.

“My pathetic little mess,” he growled, teeth bared in a sharp smile. “Two orgasms already and you're still clenching down on me because your body knows it belongs to my cock. And you know too, don't you? Every dripping inch of you-mine.”

He pulled out almost completely, the head of his cock dragging your swollen entrance before he slammed back in hard enough to make you cry out. The bedframe groaned with the impact.

"But this?" He shifted his hips, angling himself deeper, making you feel every vein drag against your walls. "This is only the beginning. I'm going to fuck you until your voice breaks, until you can't even form words beyond 'please' and 'more.' And then I'll keep going, because begging doesn't mean I stop. Begging only shows me I've taken you past what no other man could ever do."

His thumb flicked your clit again, drawing another loud moan and desperate shiver out of you. He chuckled darkly, leaning close so his lips brushed your ear.

"I'm going to use that pretty mouth next. Hold your jaw open, fuck your throat until tears run down your face and drool drips down your chest. You'll gag, you'll choke, and you'll love every second because it's me filling you. Then I'll flip you over, ass in the air, and spank you. I'll fuck you from behind so deep you'll swear I'm rearranging your insides."

He thrust hard, punctuating his words with sharp snaps of his hips.

"And if you can still handle more after that? I'll tie you up. Hands bound, legs spread, nowhere to run. I'll edge you until you're screaming, keep you right there, begging me to let you cum. I'm going to bring you right to your limit, not the limit in your mind but to what your body can physically take."

You whimpered under him, thighs shaking, body already strung tight with the promise of another climax. He laughed again, low and cruel, biting at your jaw.

"I'll mark you everywhere," he continued, voice thick with hunger. “Bite your neck until everyone knows you've been claimed. Leave bruises on your thighs, scratches down your back. And when you're so used, so raw you can't take another inch, I'll take care of you like the precious darling you are. You're mine to break, mine to put back together so the pieces form into my design."

He slammed into you deeper, harder, cock splitting you open again and again.

"And when I finally cum in you? You'll never be able to be satisfied with anything other than my cock filling this tight little cunt with my seed. You'll lie in this bed dripping with me, sore and ruined, and every ache tomorrow will remind you exactly who broke you."

His eyes glowed, his voice dropping to a rasp.

"You wanted dirty talk, pet. This is what it sounds like when a man actually means every word of the things he promises."

Alastor's grip on your throat loosened just long enough for him to shift you, flipping you onto your stomach with frightening ease. Your cheek hit the pillow, body still trembling from your last orgasm, but he didn't give you time to recover. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest down while he pulled your hips high.

"That's better,” he purred, dragging his cock against your soaked entrance. "Look at you—already dripping, already swollen, already marked. And I'm not even close to being done with you.”

The first thrust back into you was brutal, the kind that knocked the air from your lungs. He slammed in to the hilt, his pace savage from the start. The bedframe rocked, the sheets twisted around your wrists as you clutched them helplessly.

"Listen to the sound of it," he hissed. The wet slap of his hips against your ass echoed obscenely in the room. “That's the sound of ownership. That's the sound of a pussy being used the way it was meant to be by who it was meant to be."

A sharp crack followed as his hand came down hard on your ass, the sting making you cry out. He laughed, a cruel, delighted sound, and struck again, leaving a burning print.

"You'll wear my handprints tomorrow,” he growled. “Every time you sit, you'll feel the ache and remember who put it there. My mark. My claim.”

His hand slid up, tangling in your hair, yanking your head back so your spine arched and your cries filled the air. His thrusts never slowed, relentless, bruising.

"Say it,” he demanded, voice rough with lust. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, only yours Alastor." You gasped it out, the word spilling raw from your lips, and he rewarded you with another brutal spank, followed by his thumb circling your clit again.

"That's my girl," he crooned, though the sweetness in his tone only made the words filthier. “Now cum again. Cum while I'm still splitting you open. I want you screaming into the sheets."

The orgasm tore through you, violent and unstoppable, your body clamping down around him so tightly he groaned, driving even harder into your trembling form.

But he didn't stop. Not even as you shook, not even as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear, his voice low and brutal.

"You're not finished. Not even close. I'm going to drag every orgasm out of you until your throat's raw from screaming. Then I'll use that pretty mouth, fuck your throat until you're gagging on me, tears running down your face. You'll take it all, pet. Every inch. Every drop. You'll choke, you'll sob, and you'll thank me for it."

He yanked you upright against his chest, cock still pounding into you from behind, one hand wrapped tight around your throat while the other pinched your clit with cruel precision.

"You wanted dirty, you wanted to be fucked properly.” he growled against your ear. “I'm going to own you, ruin you, make sure no other cock will ever feel like enough, make sure you won't even get a fraction of the pleasure I give you. You'll wake up sore, dripping, wrecked... and begging me to do it all over again."

Alastor's grip on your hips finally loosened, but only so he could haul you upright. You were trembling against his chest, his cock still hard, slick, and pressed against your lower back. He twisted you by the shoulders, pushing you down until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed, hair falling in your face, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath.

He stood over you, towering, one hand curled around your jaw, forcing you to look up. His eyes fixated on your face, the tears going down your face along with your flushed complexion, his grin a sharp slash of white.

"Open,” he ordered softly.

Your lips parted. He slid his thumb inside first, pressing it against your tongue pushing back into your throat until you gagged lightly. He pulled it out and dragged it down your chin, smearing saliva.

"That's what I want. Drooling already and I haven't even started."

He guided the thick head of his cock to your mouth, dragging it across your lips, smearing pre-cum along your skin. Then he pushed, slow at first, filling your mouth inch by inch until your jaw ached.

"Breathe through your nose,” he murmured, voice low and dark. "You're going to take it all. You're going to gag, you're going to cry, and you're still going to open wider."

He thrust forward gently once, twice, then deeper, the head hitting the back of your throat. You choked around him, tears springing to your eyes as you tried to relax. His fingers threaded into your hair, holding you steady.

"That's it,” he groaned. “Feel it? All the way down your throat. This is how you serve me. Pretty mouth stretched wide, drool dripping onto your chest. Every gag, every sob mine."

He pulled back just enough for you to gasp a breath, then slid back in deeper, hips rolling with cruel precision. Saliva pooled at the corner of your mouth, spilling down your chin as you tried to swallow around him.

"Look at me,” he commanded, tightening his grip in your hair. “Look up while you choke on my cock. That's it. Eyes watering, mouth stuffed full. You're perfect like this. Perfect when you're serving me."

He began a steady rhythm, shallow thrusts that grew deeper, faster, his cock gliding in and out of your mouth until you were drooling and gagging, the obscene wet sounds filling the room.

"When I'm done,” he hissed, hips slamming forward until your nose brushed his pelvis, “I'm going to bend you over and finish inside that tight little cunt again. Fill you until it leaks out of you while you're still trembling. You'll be ruined from both ends, pet. Exactly the way I want you."

He eased back, giving you air, then thumbed away the spit trailing down your chin. His eyes stayed locked on yours, voice still a low growl.

"Do you want me to keep using your mouth? Or do you want me to flip you over right now and fuck you from behind while you're still drooling?"

"I want you to fuck me, please Alastor."

"Ask and you shall receive." He said in a low growl.

He yanked you up by the hair, spit and tears still wet on your face, and tossed you forward onto the bed like you weighed nothing. You hit the mattress with a muffled cry, chest pressed into the sheets, ass high.

Alastor's hand smacked down hard on your ass, the sting blooming across your skin as he lined himself up behind you. His cock, slick from your throat, dragged against your folds before he slammed into you in one brutal thrust.

You screamed into the sheets, body jolting as he bottomed out instantly, his hips grinding flush against yours. He groaned low, dark, and feral.

"Fuck,” he rasped, thrusting again, the sound of wet skin echoing. "This tight little cunt was made for me. Stretching so wide, clenching around me like it doesn't want to let my cock go."

He set a savage pace, hips snapping forward so hard the bedframe rattled against the wall. One hand dug into your hip, holding you in place, while the other pressed between your shoulder blades, forcing you down flat into the mattress.

"Take it,” he snarled. “Every inch. Every brutal thrust. You're mine to use, mine to ruin, and you'll thank me when you're sore and dripping with my seed tomorrow."

His cock slammed deeper, his angle hitting that sweet spot again and again until your vision blurred and you saw stars. He reached around, fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast and cruel, wringing another orgasm out of you before you even had a chance to recover.

Your scream was muffled against the sheets, your whole body convulsing as you clamped down around him. He growled, hips stuttering as your pussy milked him.

"That's it. Cum on my cock again. Squeeze me, break for me. Show me exactly how much you belong to me."

He didn't slow. Even as your orgasm ripped through you, he kept fucking you harder, chasing his own release. His teeth sank into your shoulder, sharp enough to sting, marking you as his while he thrust erratically.

"You're going to feel me for days," he groaned. “Every bruise, every ache mine. No other man is allowed to touch you. You belong to me." You'll lie here leaking my cum, ruined and dripping, knowing no one else will ever fuck you like this, only me."

His thrusts grew rougher, his growls breaking into ragged groans as he buried himself deep one final time. He came hard, hot ropes spilling inside you, filling you until you felt the wet heat spill past your folds. His hips jerked, grinding into you, trying to make sure every drop stayed inside. He came so his cum leaked down your thighs, your body limp and trembling under him. He grinned, sharp and satisfied, his hand stroking down your spine possessively.

"You're ruined now," he whispered, voice low and viciously sweet. “And you're mine just like I am yours."

He smacked your ass one more time, the sound sharp in the silence, before leaning close to your ear.

"Get used to this, pet. Because I'm not finished with you. Not tonight. Not ever."

Alastor stayed inside you for a moment, hips still pressed tight to yours, his breath hot against your neck. The room smelled like sweat and sex, the sound of both of you breathing hard filling the silence. Slowly, he pulled out, you could feel more of his release spilling down your thighs as he eased you onto your side.

"Shhh,” he murmured, the snarl gone from his voice, replaced with something darkly velvet. He stroked his fingers down your spine, tracing every trembling muscle until you stopped flinching. "You did so well for me."

He reached for a cloth on the nightstand he must have planned this and wiped between your thighs gently, cleaning away the mess he'd left there. The touch was careful, slow, almost reverent compared to the brutal way he'd just handled you.

"That's it,” he whispered. “Breathe. In and out. You're safe with me. I'll take care of you."

He helped you roll onto your back and slid in beside you, pulling you against his chest. His arm curled around your waist, fingers stroking lazy circles into your hip. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, threading through your hair with slow, soothing motions.

"Do you feel that?" he asked softly, the old radio hum sneaking into his voice.

"Your heartbeat is slowing down against mine, syncing together. That's what I like. I like you here, warm and breathing, still trembling from what I gave you but completely relaxed in my arms."

He pressed his lips to your forehead, a brief, uncharacteristically gentle kiss.

"No more for tonight,” he said. “Not until you've had water, until you've eaten, until you've rested. I won't take another inch from you until you're ready. When you want more, you'll tell me. And I'll give you everything again."

His thumb stroked across your cheekbone, wiping away the dried tears from earlier.

“You're mine when you choose to be, and that will always be your choice." he murmured, eyes glowing faintly but softer now. “You were perfect."

He pulled the blanket over both of you and held you tighter, his sharp smile curling back into something almost tender as you melted into him, sated and shaking but grounded in his hold.

"Alastor, I'll always choose you, I'll always be yours." You murmured before falling asleep. You didn't see Alastors smile soften as he watched you fall asleep tracing lazy circles on your hip.

"Et je te choisirai toujours, bonne nuit mon amour..."

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"Tell me your dirty secrets"

Alastor x reader

18+++ MINORS DNI this one is pure smut🙃

Trigger warning ⚠️ CNC mentioned

Word count ~ 5,973

I definitely went down a rabbit hole 😋 Enjoy it's pure smut no plot but oh so delicious

The lounge was dim and quiet, save for Angel Dust's laugh rattling through the smoke curling from his cigarette. He lounged across the couch, spindly legs kicked up, while you sat stiff beside him, tugging at your sleeve.

"I don't know, Ange," you muttered, cheeks hot. “It's embarrassing. My kinks aren't... normal. And every time I even think about telling a guy, I freeze. Last time I told a guy he got super weirded out and told me I had issues... What if the next time I tell a guy he ends up freaking out too? What if he thinks I'm disgusting?"

Angel barked a laugh and flicked ash into a tray. "Sweetheart, please.

Everyone in this dump's got kinks. Half of 'em are way nastier than anything you're sittin' on. You think you're dirty? I could introduce you to Vox's browser history."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "You don't get it. It's a lot especially after trying to open up and having that kind of reaction... And I didn't even say everything I liked... couldn't imagine the reaction if I said everything cause some of it's... intense."

Angel smirked, blowing a lazy plume of smoke. "So? Own it. Normal guys don't run from that-they get hard from it. Well at least the ones that are worth it. Trust me, doll. If you're not scarin' him, he's probably not worth your time anyway."

"That's easy for you to say," you mumbled. "You'd tell anyone."

"Damn right." He leaned closer, grin widening. “So tell me this anyone here you'd actually let loose with? Someone you'd trust to do every filthy little thing you're too shy to say out loud?"

Your face burned. “Angel-"

"C'mon. Don't tell me there ain't at least one guy makin' you ache. Who is he? Who's the poor bastard lucky enough to ruin you the way you want?"

Your throat tightened. Before you could stop yourself, your hand twitched, pointing just slightly toward the doorway towards the other room where Alastor was sitting in a chair that was visible the last time you looked.

Angel's eyes darted that way, then back to you just as a low chuckle spilled into the room.

"Well, well," Alastor's voice cut smoothly, “what an intriguing discussion to walk in on.” His cane clicked against the wood as he stepped closer, grin glinting like a knife. “Dirty fantasies, was it? Do go on."

Your heart plummeted. How long has he been listening? Did he see you point at him? Does he know that you just told Angel you wanted him to do all your kinky fantasies to you? You really hoped Alastor would lose interest quickly.

From Alastor's perspective:

Pathetic, how you thought no one noticed. That shy little flick of your hand toward him-oh, he noticed. He saw the heat on your cheeks, the guilty dart of your eyes, the way your body went rigid when Angel pressed.

And now? Now he knew those filthy things that you thought were unspeakable, things you were so afraid to mention aloud were meant for him.

Delicious.

He would savor every word you spilled.

He'd coax it out slowly, let you think you were baring yourself in shame, while inside he thrilled at each confession.

Because truth be told, there wasn't a single "shameful" kink you could whisper that he wouldn't delight in exploiting.

Did you want him dominant, sadistic, humiliating, cruel, praising, degrading, forcing? The possibilities were endless and he was so excited to hear what ones you were into.

This was going to be perfect.

He'd make you scream every last desire until you had no secrets left. And then he'd give them back to you-tenfold.

Yes. He'd wring it all out of you. And you'd beg him for more.

Back to your perspective:

"Welp," Angel said, springing to his feet with a smirk, “looks like I'm the third wheel here. Don't worry, doll, I'll leave ya to it. You can thank me later."

"Angel-" you started, but he just winked, flicking his cigarette away as he sauntered out.

"Play nice, kids," he sang, leaving you alone with Alastor's looming grin.

The silence was suffocating.

Alastor took a deliberate step closer, cane tapping against the floor. His eyes burned with amusement, pinning you in place. "So," he purred, "you've been hiding a trove of little secrets. How selfish of you, darling. I do believe you should share them with me."

Your throat was dry. “Alastor, I-I don't think."

"Oh, but I do." His grin widened. “And I insist. Tell me, my dear... what is it you crave?"

Your pulse hammered. You wanted to sink into the couch and disappear, but the weight of his voice dragged the words out of you and they all just tumbled out.

"I... I like being submissive," you admitted, barely above a whisper. "I like when a man's dominant, when he puts me in my place. I don't listen well, and it's... hot when someone makes me."

Alastor's chuckle was dark silk. "How charming. A stubborn little thing who secretly aches to be tamed. I'd relish the chance to watch you squirm while you learned obedience."

Your skin flushed hotter. You couldn't help but wonder what game he was playing with that comment. "I also... I have a pain kink. I'm a masochist. I can't really explain it. Trauma... gave me some kinks that don't make sense or that I don't really want to try and make sense of."

He tilted his head, smile sharpening. "Oh, but it makes perfect sense. Pain and pleasure, so beautifully tangled. I could make you beg for both until you forgot the difference."

Your throat was dry. “Alastor, I-I don't think-"

"Oh, but I do." His grin widened. “And I insist. Tell me, my dear... what is it you crave?"

Your pulse hammered. You wanted to sink into the couch and disappear, but the weight of his voice dragged the words out of you.

"I... I like being submissive," you admitted, barely above a whisper. "I like when a man's dominant, when he puts me in my place. I don't listen well, and it's... hot when someone makes me."

Alastor's chuckle was dark silk. "How charming. A stubborn little thing who secretly aches to be tamed. I'd relish the chance to watch you squirm while you learned obedience."

You swallowed hard clenching your thighs together. “I like being choked."

His eyes gleamed. “The sight of you gasping, desperate under my hand? Tempting indeed."

“And... I like degradation. But only if it's possessive. Not just being called names umm more like... being called his whore. His slut. I'm... sensitive."

Alastor leaned closer, grin curling. “Ah, so you want the cruelty laced with ownership. You don't want to be worthless-you want to be mine. How very sweet."

Your face burned with the realization that he definitely did see you point to him when Angel asked who you wanted. "I-I also... I have a praise kink. Probably from being ignored as a kid. I just... need it... Desperately."

His chuckle was low, intimate. "Oh, darling. The thought of you melting under every word of approval is irresistible. I'd lace every command with praise, just to watch you bloom."

Your hands twisted in your lap. “I've got a size kink. I like when a guy's bigger than me... Physically and also ah... Also when his... when it feels like too much."

Alastor's eyes flickered brighter. “To make you feel small and be able to cage you in effortlessly. To overwhelm you, to stretch you past what you can take? Mm. I do enjoy the idea of you straining to handle me, whining all the while."

You hesitated, then whispered, “I... really like when a guy talks dirty. Filthy actually. I don't know how to do it, but when he does... The kind of things that would make a whore blush.. It's... unbearable."

His grin darkened, voice dipping lower. "Now that,” he drawled, “is something I do excel at. I could fill your ears with filth until you couldn't look me in the eye without remembering every obscene thing I promised to do to you."

Your stomach twisted, heat pooling low with your gaze fixated on the floor. And then, trembling, you whispered the last one.

"My biggest kink... the one I'm most embarrassed about... is CNC. I want a man who won't take no for an answer. Someone who'll force me past my limits."

The silence stretched until you dared glance up. His smile was sharper than ever, eyes glowing like embers. “Oh, my dear. You have no idea how enticing that sounds."

Your lips parted, but before you could think about the words coming out of your mouth, the truth tumbled out:

"I've also never... uhmmmm... fuck... I've never had an orgasm. None of the men I've been with... well they didn't know what they were doing or they were too selfish to care if I was enjoying myself..."

For the first time, his grin faltered-surprise flashing in his eyes before twisting into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed your ear.

"Well," he murmured, voice a velvet blade, “I find that utterly unacceptable. You poor, neglected creature. You've been starved of what I could so easily give you. I could wring climax after climax from your trembling body until you forgot your own name. And I'd enjoy every second of watching you shatter under me."

Alastor lingered close, eyes burning into yours, his grin stretched sharp enough to cut. The air between you was thick, smothering, every one of your confessions hanging there like bait he'd already bitten into.

Then, with a sudden shift of posture, he straightened, tugging at his coat cuffs. His smile smoothed back into something almost casual. “Well,” he said cheerfully, cane tapping against the floor, "that was very enlightening. Thank you for your honesty, my dear. It has been... quite the treat.”

Your stomach dropped. “Wait-you're just-?"

He tipped his hat with a mocking bow. “I must be going. Business, as always. But rest assured..." his eyes glowed briefly, voice dipping lower, “...you've given me plenty to think about."

And then he turned, cane clicking as he strode out, leaving you flushed, heart hammering, and utterly confused.

From Alastor's perspective:

Enlightening indeed.

Every word you spilled had been a gift wrapped in shame, and he unwrapped them with delight. Submissive, masochistic, needy for praise, eager to be forced, how exquisite. And then, that little confession at the end, the raw admission that you'd never been truly satisfied. That was almost criminal.

His grin sharpened as he stepped into the hallway, cane tapping like a metronome to the rhythm of his thoughts.

You thought it was over. You thought he'd brushed off your filthy truths, tucked them away as nothing more than idle curiosity. How adorable.

He would come for you when you weren't expecting it. He'd catch you in your most unguarded moment, back you into a corner, and test just how much you really liked it when a man didn't take no for an answer.

Yes. He'd make you prove it—squirming, gasping, begging, until you broke beautifully under him.

And the best part? You wanted it.

That made the game all the sweeter.

Back to your perspective:

The hotel was quiet that night, shadows stretching long in the corridors. You'd padded back to your room after a long evening, stripped down to nothing but an oversized T-shirt, and curled beneath the covers. Sleep came heavy, dreamless.

Until the bed dipped beneath you.

You startled awake, eyes snapping open just as the darkness split with the gleam of crimson. Before you could speak, a gloved hand clamped over your mouth, another curling around your hip as the weight of a body pressed you deep into the mattress.

"Shhh," Alastor purred above you, his grin glowing faintly in the dark. "No need for alarm, my dear. I simply came to... test a theory."

Your muffled protest died in your throat as he yanked you down onto the bed with a force that left your body trembling, cock pressing impossibly hard through his pants against you before you could even catch your breath. One hand slid to your throat, tightening just enough to make your pulse spike, the other held your hip in a vice-like grip, pulling you flush against him.

You tried to push at his chest, words catching, but the betrayal of your body told the truth, your thighs quivered, your breath hitched, your nipples peaked under the thin cotton of your shirt.

“Ah, there it is,” he crooned, tilting his head as his grip at your throat flexed.

"Every shiver, every gasp... mine."

"Alastor-" you managed, voice breaking between half-protest, half-plea.

"Yes, yes, do try to resist,” he said, grin stretching wider as his hips pressed harder into yours. “But I see it—the way your body begs while your mouth denies. Such a delicious contradiction. Exactly as you confessed."

His hand dragged your shirt up slowly, deliberately, exposing bare skin to the cool air. His fingertips traced over your stomach, featherlight, cruel in how they teased without giving.

You gasped again, trembling under him.

“Mmm, darling,” he murmured, leaning close enough for his teeth to graze your ear, "you've been starving far too long. It's only fair I feed you until you're ruined."

The press of him was relentless, the choke of his hand a perfect reminder of your helplessness. Every protest you thought to muster melted into another gasp, another moan you couldn't hold back. And Alastor drank in every sound, savoring it like a melody.

"You're going to break for me," he whispered darkly, “and when you do, I'll make certain you remember exactly who finally gave you what no other man could."

The next sound was the deliberate drag of his zipper, the thick weight of his cock freeing into the air between you. Your eyes widened, panic sparking at just the sight of it-far too big, far too much.

"Alastor-" you gasped, pushing weakly at his chest. "It won't, it can't..."

His grin sharpened as he pressed his hand down against your hip, holding you still. "Oh, but it will," he purred. His other hand slid between your thighs, fingers stroking your clit with ruthless precision. Your protest splintered instantly into a broken moan, your hips bucking helplessly into his touch.

"That's it," he crooned, voice velvet and razor all at once. His fingers teasing your entrance dipping in slightly only to pull them out just as fast as he dipped them in. “Already trembling for me. So fucking tight, so wet, shaking for me already. You don't even know how much I'm going to make you cum, little pet. And you'll take it all. Every inch, every pulse, every gasp—you belong to me."

“I-I can't... it's too much-" you stammered, trembling violently.

He chuckled, sharp and low, tugging your hair back until your throat was bared. "Too much? Oh no, my darling. Not nearly enough.” His cock pushed forward, the thick head stretching you wide, forcing a broken cry from your lips. "You'll take it all. You were made for this. Made for me."

Your body writhed, every nerve lit up in equal parts ecstasy and desperation, trying to adjust around the impossible intrusion. His teeth scraped down your neck as he sank deeper, savoring every shudder.

"I can't.... It's too much... Al...."

"Yes, you can," he hissed, snapping his hips so he bottomed out instantly going impossibly deep, cock stretching you wide. The sharp stretch made you cry out, but he didn't pause. "You're too tight, too wet, too perfect. You feel it? Every inch of me forcing you open, marking you, owning you... and you love it, don't you? Mine to hurt, mine to breed, mine entirely. Every little twitch, every gasp..." he hissed into your ear, pulling himself out to the tip and slamming his hips forward until you were stuffed full again.

“...It tells me the truth-that your body knows exactly who it belongs to. Me... That you were made for me. My tiny, trembling pet, stuffed so full you can barely breathe, but still clenching around me like you'll never let go. Look at you - already dripping, greedy, begging without words."

Your body arched, thighs shaking, every sound tumbling from your lips nothing but proof of your surrender. He smirked, voice turning low and feral.

"You said you couldn't, but here you are, gripping me like you'll never let go. You were made to be ruined on my cock, darling. Made to be filled until you ache, until you forget everything but me." The filth he was speaking shot heat through your entire body until you felt a coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

“I'll teach you what it means to be mine. To take me when you think you can't. To break apart on me over and over until all you know is me and how it feels for you to be completely filled with my cock."

The first orgasm tore through you, sudden and violent, muscles clenching impossibly around him. You half screamed half moaned his name unable to form any other words your mind blurring only able to focus on the pleasure Alastor was giving you. He pressed deeper, snapping hips, teeth grazing your shoulder, lips smothering you in punishing kisses. "Such a filthy little thing, my own little slut trembling and quivering... screaming my name while I take you completely. Mine entirely, and you'll take it all, every filthy thrust."

"That's my girl," he growled against your lips, hips slamming mercilessly. "So greedy... so perfect... give me another. And another. I'll take every orgasm you have, I'll wring you dry, and I'll kiss you through every single one. Because you're mine, darling. My pet. My love. My good girl. My everything."

He pressed a kiss to your lips, then your throat, then your chest, as if worshiping you with his mouth even as he ruined you with his cock. His obsession poured out between every word, every bite, every kiss, every thrust.

He had you pinned, shaking, his cock pounding into you without mercy, but his mouth never left yours for long.

Every cry, every broken gasp, he stole with a kiss, his tongue forcing its way past your lips as if he couldn't stand the thought of a single sound escaping him.

His hips snapped cruelly, making you whimper, and he kissed you again, swallowing it down, groaning into your mouth as if your helplessness fed him.

He broke away only to trail wet, frantic kisses down your throat, biting hard enough to mark, then returning to your lips like he was addicted.

Another orgasm hit almost immediately. He smacked your ass sharply, cock impossibly full, forcing your body to ride every wave of pain and pleasure. "Fuck, look at you so fucking perfect, so soaked for me already. Begging with every gasp, every quiver... all mine. Only I could ever make you tremble like this. Only I could make you cum through pain, through every nerve. No one has ever fucked you like this, and no one ever will. You're perfect for me."

Quickly you felt that coil forming tightly but this time every nerve in your body was on fire. Every sense was heightened. It was too intense, you were beyond overstimulated.

“I-I can't, please. It's too intense... It's to much... I can't ..." you whimpered, nails digging into his back, trembling uncontrollably.

"Yes, you can," he growled, pressing impossibly deep, snapping hips faster, hand tightening at your throat. “I'm the only one who can make you cry, beg, shiver, and cum all at once. Only I can shove this much filth into you and make your body shake. Mine to ruin, mine to breed, mine to fuck... mine entirely."

Pulling out entirely to the tip and he slammed into you again, impossibly deep, his rhythm turned into sharp, punishing thrusts pushing you past every limit. Pain and pleasure merged every smack of your ass, every pinch of your thighs, every bite to your shoulder, every impossibly deep stroke of his cock forcing gasps, shivers, and moans out of you. Teeth grazed your collarbone, lips pressed into yours, tongue teasing roughly while filthy praise poured from him.

"Say it," he hissed, cock buried impossibly deep, hand clutching your throat. "Say I'm the only one who could ever make you cum like this. Say you're mine. Say you belong to me. Every gasp, every twitch, every trembling pulse... You're mine entirely. You can't handle me, but you will take every filthy inch, and you'll love every second."

"Yours..... Fuck.... Yours..." That's all you could get out before you felt that coil snap again.

Another orgasm ripped through you you've lost count of how many times you've came, it was violent, raw, unstoppable. He pressed deep, snapping faster, overstimulating every nerve. Smothering kisses, teeth grazing, sharp smacks, and cruel little bites made your muscles lock, body shivering uncontrollably.

“Fuck that's my good girl... You're mine to breed,” he growled, snapping hips, pressing impossibly deep. "Mine to fill. Mine to ruin. Mine to fuck. You're shaking, trembling, quivering... so wet, so perfect. Every gasp, every twitch, every broken moan - is mine. And I'll keep fucking, keep breeding, keep hurting, keep making you cum until there's nothing left."

Finally, he tilted his hips, groaning your name, filling you impossibly deep. You quaked violently, pussy clenching around him as repeated orgasms tore through you. Pain and pleasure entwined, sharp, punishing, filthy. Every smothering kiss, every bite, every punishing thrust, every filthy command forced you past your limits.

By the time you collapsed, ruined, shaking, sobbing his name, he was still buried as deep as he could go, hips snapping, teeth grazing your lips and jaw. “Mine,” he whispered, low, triumphant, dark. "Every gasp, every shiver, every climax... You're all mine, but darling I'm also all yours. You're mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Mine to punish. Mine to cherish. Mine completely. Mine to destroy. I'll be yours for eternity... If you promise to always love me and I'll promise to always love and protect you. I'll promise to fuck you how you deserve and worship your body every chance I get. Now cum on my cock again sweetheart."

Your orgasm shattered you, violent, uncontrolled, ripping through your trembling body as he held you down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. He followed, hot and relentless, filling you once again until it spilled down your thighs.

But he still didn't stop.

Even as you sobbed, shaking violently, his cock stayed hard inside you, thrusting again, slower now, deeper, cruelly purposeful. He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, voice low and drenched in obsession.

“All night, little pet. I'll use this body until you forget what it feels like not to have me inside you. Until every breath, every moan, every heartbeat screams that you belong to me. And when I'm done, you'll thank me for breaking you.”

And you knew he meant it-he wasn't going to stop, not until you were utterly, depravedly ruined.

OC @splattermutt (Side note, I wanna touch his tail)

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"Teaching you in the best"

"way to love yourself"

💋Some Alastor smut 💋

MDNI 18++

Word count ~ 1,799

Here's a song to listen to while

💞 u read I think it's fitting 💞

Me and my friend were talking about kinks and how I have a problem where I purposely act out to get punished and my friend ever so rudely told me she knew a punishment that would make me never act out on purpose again. And that would be having to make a list of things I liked about myself 🙃 I did not like being called out like that. But I decided to make it into a smut story with RadioDaddy so 🤷🏻‍♀️ hope you guys enjoy what would be my biggest fear 😋

You were trembling under him, slick and shivering from his relentless attention, hips pressing to his feral, towering frame. Alastor's sharp grin glinted in the dim light as he noticed you try to take his attention away from parts of your tiny body. How dare you try to hide what belongs to him. You noticed his change in demeanor and instantly thought "oh no, why'd I have to make him notice" instantly you tried to shrink away, eyes darting with hesitation.

"Hmm... what's this, my clever little pet?" he purred, voice low and predatory. "You look like you've forgotten something... oh... you don't think you're perfect for me?"

Your cheeks heated. “I... I just... I don't like how I look... and I'm worried about what you think" you whispered, barely audible.

He chuckled, low and feral, tugging your hair to make you look at him. “That is... absolutely unacceptable. Darling. How could you dare doubt the thing I find endlessly fascinating, endlessly enchanting, endlessly mine? You'll fix this, or you won't get the reward I've been teasing you with so nicely."

His hands gripped your hips, pressing impossibly deep inside you with one swift thrust. “Here's what we're going to do, you will list eight things you like about yourself. Eight. I will not accept any less. One by one. And for each... I will tell you exactly why I love it. Fail, falter, or stall... and there is no release for you. Understand?"

"Yes... I... I understand,” you gasped, hips twitching around him.

"Good girl. Let's begin."

He started thrusting into you at a delicious pace, hitting your sweet spot every time making you tremble almost instantly.

"Darling, I said begin. Are you stalling?"

"No, sorry... Uhm.... I like... my eyes?" you whispered.

"Ah, yes," he murmured, teeth grazing your shoulder as he drove impossibly deep. "Those wide, desperate little eyes... they look at me like you already know you're mine. So clever... so perfectly submissive... so utterly mine. And I love that look every single time."

"I... like my... hands?"

“Your tiny, trembling hands?” he hissed, tugging them sharply behind your back so you arched the shift in position hitting even deeper, making you gasp. "So small... so delicate... and yet, so skilled at taking me... gripping, begging, trembling... everything I could ever want... mine entirely."

"I... like my......." You trail off.

"Keep going darling, you're doing so well for me." Alastor coos into your ear

"I... like my lips...."

"Those lips," he growled, pressing his teeth along your neck briefly, making you shiver. "So soft, perfect for kissing. Perfect for moaning my name... For wrapping around my cock while you take me so greedily... for tasting every drop... endlessly mine. Clever little pet, so beautifully obedient."

Your hips bucked, breath hitching. “I... like my... neck?"

"Perfect," he hissed, tugging at your hair, pressing impossibly deep. "So delicate... so responsive... perfect for bites, nips, and whispered praises... It wears my marks beautifully..... my obsession... my treasure... mine entirely."

"I... like... my... thighs?"

"Ah... yes," he growled, gripping them tightly. "So small, so tight, trembling around me... perfect for me to hold... perfect for me to fuck... perfect wrapped around my face drowning me in your scent, it's intoxicating, your thighs are perfect for me to mark as mine... utterly mine, clever little pet."

You were shaking, slick, and on the edge of spilling. "I... like my... ass?"

"Yes... your perfect ass," he hissed, smacking sharply, making you gasp. “Every spank, every bite, every mark I leave... just for me... mine entirely. Clever, obedient, greedy... and I love it all."

Your body was trembling uncontrollably, dripping. Your hips bucked. You were about to cum. "I... like... my... I can't I'm gonna....."

He smirked ferally and pressed harder, stopping your movement sharply. "Tsk tsk, not yet, little pet... You're not allowed until you finish the list, and you will finish the list. Every word, every confession... mine entirely. Now, move on. I said eight. Not six"

You whimpered, trembling, struggling to speak clearly as he alternated punishing thrusts, hair pulls, and gentle touches, making it hard to get any words out... but each praise he gave you, each mark placed perfectly, him showing his obsession for you made it impossible not to submit completely. Your body was trembling uncontrollably you were dripping as you continued trying to come up with things you liked about yourself.

“I... like... my... voice?"

"Yes... that soft, trembling little voice," he purred, pressing impossibly deep, stopping you from moving as he whispered ferally. “Every gasp, every moan... every whispered plea... perfect for me to hear... Oh that scream only I get to hear from you absolutely divine... Your voice is like a symphony conducted only for me by me... endlessly mine... my clever little pet."

You were quivering on the edge, hips pressing desperately into him. “I... like... my... eyes... no, fuck, I like my... smile?"

He growled, pressing his forehead to yours, voice thick with obsession. "Yes... that smile... the shy one you grace me with when I whisper praises into your ear or the smile that curls when you're desperate, when you're trembling for me... every little flash... endlessly mine. My clever, greedy little pet... mine entirely."

Your trembling body was slick with sweat and dripping with arousal, barely able to hold your release back. His impossibly thick cock pressed impossibly deep, filling you, stretching you in ways that made your breath hitch uncontrollably. Teeth grazed your shoulder as he held you tight, fingers gripping your thighs, tugging them up closer to his face.

"You see?" he murmured, voice low, feral, thick with obsession. "Every part of you... every little thing you thought was flawed... endlessly perfect for me. Clever, greedy little pet... utterly mine."

He nipped at the soft skin of your neck, tugged your hair sharply, and pressed his forehead to yours, making your chest rise and fall in frantic gasps. “Your trembling body... slick, greedy... dripping just for me... I could drown in your scent forever, my clever little pet. Every moan, every shiver... mine entirely."

Hips bucking, body writhing, you tried to escape the relentless overstimulation, but he pressed deeper, every thrust an assertion of possession, every motion feral, claiming you completely. "You're mine," he hissed, voice rough with obsession. "Every gasp, every arch, every desperate little twitch... all for me... all of it... mine."

Your legs trembled, thighs clamping involuntarily, and he smirked, whispering, “Take it all, my clever little pet. Every inch... every drop... every shiver... You were made to take me, to be greedy for me... and I love it. I love every desperate, trembling piece of you."

A strangled cry escaped you as the coil in your stomach snapped, and he pressed impossibly deep, teeth sinking into your shoulder again, marking your surrender, making your release all that more intense.

"Yes... that's it little doe... you're mine entirely... mine to claim... every gasp, every moan, every little shiver... all of it... My greedy little pet... All mine."

Even as your body trembled and shook uncontrollably, he held you there, pressing his body against yours, murmuring praise and obsession between each feral thrust drawing out your orgasm. Your release cascaded, overwhelming, and he whispered low, “You see? Every little thing about you... every tiny imperfection you thought you had... endlessly perfect for me... endlessly mine..."

And there, slick, trembling, dripping, completely consumed, you knew it: you belonged to him, utterly, irrevocably, beyond all doubt.

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"A reminder you're mine"

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Alastor:

"Say it: I am yours. Say it again until you believe it."

You:

"Alastor I belong to you, I'm yours and only yours I don't have to repeat it to believe it. I am fully yours."

Alastor:

"You belong to me. Every part of you, you will hide nothing from me. Every thought. Every breath. Every secret. Your body is mine. Your mind is mine. Your soul is mine. You are nothing but my pet. You exist to serve me. Is that understood?"

You:

"Yes sir, all of my mind, every single beat of my heart, every inch of my body and my soul belong to you.... Only you Alastor. I will have no secrets from you. Ever. Every breath I take, every thought that crosses my mind, will be yours.... I live to serve you, to please you to do whatever it is that you need or want from me. I'm completely yours."

Alastor:

"You crave me. You need me. You obey me. There is no you without me. Only you being mine. You are my whore, my toy, my possession. Always. Repeat it: I am owned. I am taken. I am his."

You:

"I am owned. I am taken. I am his. I am Alastors."

Alastor:

"Good girl, You wake for me. You ache for me. You break for me. Every need you have is answered by me. Only me. Is that understood?"

You:

"Yes sir. I understand."

Alastor:

"Your purpose is simple: to please me, to suffer for me, to belong to me. Your pleasure is mine. Your pain is mine. You will remember: you are mine, you were always mine, you will always be mine."

You:

"Yes sir, I am yours, for eternity."

Alastor:

"That's my good girl, now let me mark you for everyone to see."

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Alastor Possessive Degradation, Ownership, Commands and Praises

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Since you guys liked the last post I made like this I thought to do another one☺️ this one will be much, much longer I went a little overboard 😜

I've put my favorites in bold❤️

I really hope you guys enjoy💋

Word count ~ 2210 (I got chatgpt to count the words for me because it was long and it pointed out my mismatched quotation marks and said "classic case of "too horny to proofread" 😂 and also called it a full length smut manifesto 😂)

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I was told by my friend who read all these first and she suggested I put a little note in that some do get a little more intense/harsh as you go down the list for each one especially in the degradation one. I didn't think so but everyone has their own opinion and I respect all of them❤️

Alastors Praises

"That's my clever little darling-always so eager to please."

"My sweet pet, you wear obedience so beautifully."

"What a good girl... perfectly mine in every way."

"Such a charming little creature-you take everything I give you so well."

"My darling, you beg so prettily it's almost an art."

"Good girl. You make devotion look exquisite."

"My lovely little treasure-no one could shine the way you do for me."

"You're perfect when you're on your knees... perfect when you're mine."

"Such a radiant little pet—you make serving me look divine."

"That smile is mine, and it's more dazzling than anything else in this wretched world."

"My obedient darling... you're flawless when you surrender."

"Good girl, such a good girl-every word from me is a crown on your head."

"You are such a delightful little masterpiece—ruined and remade by me."

"Look at you, my sweet pet, glowing just because I approve of you."

"You make me proud every time you remember exactly who you belong to."

"What a perfect little darling-so desperate, so eager, so utterly mine."

"My beautiful little pet... even your beauty belongs to me."

"What a perfect little slut-perfect because you're mine."

"My darling, you take everything so well... no one else could ever have you like this."

"Good girl-such a shameless little thing, and all that shamelessness is for me."

"My obedient treasure, every moan you make is music composed for my ears alone."

"You're exquisite when you break-because you're breaking for me."

"Such a lovely little pet... you're living proof of my ownership."

"My darling, even your ruin looks radiant when it's mine."

"My sweet little doe-your devotion makes you glow brighter than anyone else."

"Every mark on you is beautiful... because they're from me."

“You're perfect, pet, all because you are what I've made you."

"What a darling little whore-glorious, because you whore yourself for me alone."

"My precious thing... every ounce of you is perfect because every ounce is mine."

"Good girl. Stay mine, and you'll always be flawless."

"My darling mess... ruined and radiant, just the way I like you."

"Good girl. You've learned so well that your only purpose is me."

"Such a desperate little darling-so low, yet so perfect at serving me."

"My broken toy... shattered, trembling, yet dazzling because you're mine.”

"Good girl, my needy whore-you make degradation look divine."

"My shameless little angel-you fall from grace so beautifully, just for me."

Alastors Possessive Degradation

"You're my filthy little toy, and I'll break you however I please."

"My sweet little ruin... every mark on you belongs to me."

"You're my obedient little slut, and I won't let anyone else have you."

"My greedy little thing, always begging for what only I can give."

"You're my shameless little mess... all for my amusement."

"My pretty little whore-made to be used by me, owned by me."

"You're mine to devour, mine to disgrace, mine to keep."

"My pathetic little darling... desperate only for my attention."

"You're my spoiled little pet-trained to kneel, trained to serve, trained to stay."

"My delicious little plaything, trembling because I make you."

"You're my dirty secret... and I'll never let you forget it."

"My reckless little slut... ruined for anyone but me."

"My shameless little darling-starving for my praise, aching for my punishment.”

"You're my helpless little pet, and I'll remind you ever me you forget."

"My pathetic little pet, begging so prettily because I trained you to."

"You're my desperate little slut, crying for the attention only I'll ever be able to give you."

"My filthy little darling, ruined just the way I like you."

"You're mine to humiliate, mine to mark, mine to destroy... and you'll thank me for it."

"My broken little toy, trembling because I made you this way."

"You're my needy little mess, dripping and ruined because I won't let you stop."

"My shameless little pet, so addicted to me you can't even think straight."

"You're mine to keep on your knees, where you belong."

"My dirty little slut, crying for mercy you don't even want."

"You're mine to twist, mine to break, mine to rebuild... and you'll never escape it."

"My helpless little darling, nothing more than a vessel for my amusement."

"You're mine to disgrace over and over, and you'll beg me to do it again."

"My greedy little whore, ruined for anyone but me—just how I planned it."

"You're my pathetic little addict, hooked on the very torment you pretend to resist."

"My darling pet, you don't even want freedom. You'd be lost without my leash."

"You're mine because you chose to be ruined by me... and now you can't live without it."

"My sweet little slave to my affection, pathetic enough to need even my cruelty."

"You're my helpless little doll, smiling through tears because you love how I break you."

"My needy little slut, you crave my cruelty more than anyone else's kindness."

"You're mine because you want to be, you would be nothing without me."

"My darling whore, you blush when I degrade you because deep down you adore being owned."

"You're mine forever, because you're happiest when you're humiliated by me."

"My shameless little pet, you'd rather crawl at my feet than stand tall anywhere else."

"You're mine, and the cruelest part is you wouldn't have it any other way."

"You're not even you anymore-you're mine, through and through."

Alastors Ownership

"My little pet, you breathe because I let you. Every gasp is mine."

"You're mine in body, in mind, in soul... there's nothing left untouched by me."

"My sweet puppet, every thought you have belongs to me, and I'll pull the strings."

"You're mine so completely, you wouldn't even know how to exist without me."

"My darling, you were made for me, shaped for me, broken for me. There's nothing else for you."

"You're mine to the marrow, mine to the core-there's no version of you that isn't owned."

"My perfect little toy, you think what I want you to think, you feel what I want you to feel."

"You're mine, down to the last filthy impulse... even your shame obeys me."

"My helpless darling, the person you were is gone—there's only what I've molded."

"You're mine, not just now, not just here. Always. Eternally. Even your future is mine."

"My devoted pet, you don't have a self anymore. You're just an extension of me."

"You're mine, and the word 'mine' is the only name you'll ever need."

"You are my darling possession-an ornament of flesh and devotion, and I will never let you go."

"Every inch of you is branded by me, whether the world can see it or not."

"You are my delightful little property, body and soul signed over the moment you knelt."

"Every sound you make is mine to conduct, every breath a note in my symphony."

"You don't have a choice anymore, pet. You are owned, and your owner is me."

"You're not free-you're mine, and you wear that bondage like the finest jewels."

"Every bruise, every mark on you is proof of my claim. You are my canvas."

"You belong in my hands, my voice in your head, my leash around your throat."

"Even your thoughts aren't yours anymore-they circle back to me like moths to a flame."

"You're my darling pet, and pets don't run away. They stay, they serve, they belong."

"You are mine in ways you'll never escape: written in your body, carved into your mind."

"Your pleasure is mine to permit, your pain mine to deliver. Nothing about you belongs to you."

"I am not sharing. I am not lending. You are mine—singular, absolute, irrevocable."

"Your devotion is not requested, it is required, because you are my possession."

"You're not a person, pet, you're my possession, my plaything, my prize."

"Every mark on your body is my signature. You are my artwork, and I am the artist."

"Your mouth is mine to speak through, your body mine to play with, your mind mine to rewrite."

"You're my doll-beautiful when posed, perfect when broken, always mine on the shelf."

"You are my trophy of devotion, and I'll polish you in degradation and affection until you shine."

"Everything you are—every thought, every breath, every shiver... belongs to me."

"You're my instrument, darling, and I'll make you scream or sing depending on my mood."

"You're my property to use, to ruin, to keep, to cherish. No one else gets to touch what I own."

"You're mine like a collar claims a dog, like a brand claims cattle, undeniable and permanent."

"Even your shame belongs to me, pet. Especially your shame."

"You are not free, you are not whole without me-you are mine, and that is your only truth."

"My sweet, you'll never be alone again. Every thought, every breath, I'll be there to claim it."

"What a blessing you are—my pet, my treasure, my forever. How lucky you are to be owned, and how lucky I am to own."

"You'll never be lost, because I hold you. You'll never be free, because I keep you."

"My love, doesn't it feel beautiful to know your body and soul are spoken for?"

"You'll never be discarded, never forgotten you're too precious, too owned by me."

"What devotion you show, darling. You shine brightest in my grasp, where you belong."

"Isn't it sweet? Every bruise, every mark, every cry—it all binds you closer to me."

"My precious thing, you'll never have to wonder who you are again. You are mine, and that's enough."

"You are forever mine, darling, and forever cherished... because I keep what I own."

"You'll never escape me, but why would you want to? You're adored, you're treasured, you're mine."

"You're safe in my keeping, pet. You can't run, you can't hide—but you'll always be adored."

"How lovely you are, knowing the world could never take you from me."

Alastors Commands

"On your knees, darling. That's where pretty little pets belong."

"Hands behind your back-don't move unless I allow it."

"Chin up, eyes on me. I want to see that lovely obedience shining through."

"Open wide. Don't make me ask twice."

"Hold still, pet. Squirming only makes me want to tie you tighter.”

"Beg for it properly, or you'll get nothing at all."

"Spread yourself open-show me what's mine."

"Crawl to me. Nice and slow. Make yourself look desperate."

"Count every strike aloud. If you lose count, we start again."

"Keep your hands behind your head. Don't even think about touching."

"Say it: 'I belong to you.' Say it until you believe it."

"Look at me while you fall apart. Don't you dare close your eyes."

"Keep your mouth shut unless it's begging for me."

"Run if you like, little prey... but you know I'll catch you."

"Stay exactly where I put you-my pet doesn't wander."

"Present yourself. I want you ready before I even touch you."

"Thank me for owning you."

"Be still and take it. Every sound you make is mine to savor."

"Say it louder—let the whole room hear you admit you're my dirty little pet."

"Hold yourself open for me. Don't you dare close your legs unless I say so."

"Beg pathetically. Make it embarrassing. I want to hear how shameless you'll get for me."

"Thank me for using you. Every time. Every way."

"Stay on your knees until they ache—l like the reminder you've been waiting."

"Count every slap, and with each number tell me who owns you."

"Touch yourself only while looking me in the eyes. Stop the moment I tell you."

"Moan louder-I want to hear how ruined you are for only me."

"Tell me what a disgrace you've become for me. Say it with pride."

"Show me that shameless little body -make it obvious you're mine to use how I see fit."

"Whine for me, beg for me. Make it pathetic. Make it desperate."

"Admit it-you love being my slut. Say it until you believe it. Make me believe it."

"Stay still while I ruin you. Don't move an inch unless I command it."

"Tell me you'd rather be owned than free."

"Obey me, even if it humiliates you-especially if it humiliates you. Show me how willing you are to break for me."

"Take off your clothes slowly. No hiding, no shame-you're mine to stare at."

"Hold your tongue out until I decide what to do with it."

"Spread yourself with your hands and beg me to claim what I already own."

"Count every bruise I give you and thank me for each one."

"Repeat it: I am your dirty whore. Again. Again. Louder."

"Beg me to ruin you in the filthiest words you can think of, impress me."

"Show me how quickly you'll drop to your knees the moment I say so."

"Look at yourself and say out loud: I belong to Alastor. Nothing else. No one else."

Thanks for reading❤️

Please let me know your thoughts and feedback❤️

Also if you have any requests on what you'd want me to do next (not sure if I should call them subjects or like categories but you know what I mean right?) don't hesitate to ask and I'll do my best to get to it asap💋

Not sure who oc is for this fanart if it's yours let me know and I'll tag you☺️ just love this pic of RadioDaddy♥️

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"Showing you how good it can feel to be mine"

Just a warning this one is a looot more smutty than my others and a lot more explicit just wanted to test the waters let me know if you guys want more like this.... Comment things you'd want me to add or change in my next one❤️ this ones about Alastor making the night all about readers pleasure 😛 after a bit of spanking, basically turning a punishment into a very big reward.

Word count ~ 1,482

18++++ minors, do not read

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The moon hung low over the trees, casting silver light across the tangled forest floor. Mist curled between the trunks like it was afraid to touch the ground. Somewhere behind you, the crunch of leaves broke the silence slow, deliberate, unhurried.

Alastor's voice floated through the night, warm and wicked.

"Run, little one. Give me a reason to chase."

Your pulse hammered. You didn't wait for him to count. Bare feet tearing over the moss, you bolted, breath sharp in your lungs. The woods seemed endless, but the sound of his steps — steady, inevitable always found you.

Branches clawed at your arms, and the air felt electric, heavy with the certainty that he was close. You tried to weave between thicker brush, ducking under low limbs, but then... silence.

Nothing.

Your heart slammed in your chest, every nerve screaming. Then, right at your ear

"Got you."

A strong arm snaked around your waist, yanking you back against him. His chest pressed hard into your spine, his breath warm and deliberate at the side of your neck. The low, rumbling chuckle that followed made your knees weaken.

"You've been a very disobedient little rabbit," he murmured, his words sinking deep. "And I think you want your punishment. I think you want it desperately. ”

Your hands caught at his, but he only laughed, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him. That smile -sharp, dangerous, utterly certain left no doubt that you weren't going anywhere.

"You're mine, and I need to remind you of that" he said, almost conversationally, before dragging you deeper into the shadows. Every step was controlled, his grip firm enough to make your pulse trip over itself. He didn't rush. He didn't have to.

When you caught sight of the small clearing ahead, you saw the glint of moonlight on glass - mirrors, tall and warped, arranged in a crooked circle with a bed in the middle like a stage set for something you weren't ready to name.

Alastor's smile widened.

"Oh, this will be fun,” he purred, pushing you forward so you could see yourself in the mirrors surrounding you, in every angle you could see yourself completely flushed, wide-eyed and nervous. "You're going to watch just how thoroughly I ruin you tonight. I do love to see how beautiful you look while I do"

Your protest barely made it past your lips before his hand curled around your jaw, tilting your face back toward his.

“Ah-ah-ah... I haven't even started with you yet. Don't worry this will be less of a punishment more like a reward. Like I said I need to remind you of the fact you are mine”

Staring at alastor seeing his sinister smile paired with hooded eyelids, you could see the lust in his eyes as he started to rip your nightgown off not caring as he left scratches all over your body.

Once you were completely naked Alastor stood behind you and grabbed you by your hair against your scalp and made you look forward into one of the mirrors. In that moment you truly realized how much smaller you were compared to him.

"Look at you, so small and fragile... But still ready to let me take you and ruin you.... You. Belong. To. Me." He breathes into your ear as his hands roam your curves. "Tonight I'll show you how good that can feel."

In that moment he turned you and himself and bent you over his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed and he laid a hard smack on your ass. "Can't forget this is technically a punishment sweetheart, don't worry I have a feeling you'll like this one." he chuckled. "Start counting, you know the rules.... If you lose count or miss one we will have to start from the beginning"

He only smacked the same side and with every smack he increased his force, you were sure you had bruises shaped like his hand. Once you got to 15 he praised you and said "Oh darling, you've done so well, see how easy it is for you to be a good girl for me? Now we have to do the other side, mmm... We'll make it even and then I can show you why tonight will be considered a reward. Count again."

After Alastor finished he stood you up and turned you to admire his work. He got up and stood in front of you to push you gently onto the bed so you were laying down with him standing between where your legs went off the bed. Grabbing your feet and bending your legs at the knee he spread your legs so you were able to lay like that comfortably.

"Tonight is going to be all about you, I'm going to worship your body starting by tasting your delicious pussy and I'll feast on you until you've cum over and over again not stopping until you're trembling." Alastor runs a finger through your slick folds "So wet for me already, your pussy is practically begging for my mouth right now.... Tell me love, was it the punishment or my words that has you so excited?"

Shyly you breathe out the words barely a whisper "The punishment...."

"Such a good girl, being so honest. So you do like when I'm rough with you? When I take control and remind you who's in charge?" You can hear the amusement in Alastors tone. Hes always known your secret kinks, he just wants to hear you admit them out loud.

"Yes...." You quickly add "Sir...."

Hearing you call him sir fills him with need. He hooks his hand under your jaw and tilts your face so you're looking into a mirror placed perfectly where you can see him slide his fingers into your pussy "That's all I needed to hear. I want you to watch this mirror, watch everything I do and when I add my mouth I want you to look down at me between your legs. I want to see every reaction. Understood?"

"Yes sir"

He starts pumping his fingers into your pussy fast curling them perfectly to hit that sweet spot, all you can hear is your shaky moans and wet, rhythmic, obscene squelches that underline every motion of Alastors fingers. The second he suctions his mouth to your clit you hear him groan, the vibrations only heightening your pleasure. What started as soft, trembling breaths and soft moans rose into ragged, shameless cries, each one louder than the last unable to control yourself until the air itself seemed to vibrate with your pleasure.

Alastor enjoyed the fact that no matter where he looked he could see every angle of the pleasure written all over your face, in the way your body arched or in the way your toes curled. His favorite view was definitely looking up into your eyes but he couldn't stop looking at all the mirrors set up around you both.

Alastor attacked your clit suctioning it in his mouth while his tongue worked what felt like magic you felt your orgasm coming on fast "Fuck Alastor...... I'm so close... You feel so good...." You whimpered in between moans, it felt impossible to get the words out. Your vision started to go black all you could see were stars dancing around as your first orgasm hit. You screamed Alastors name as he eagerly lapped up everything he could moaning at your taste.

"You taste divine darling, the sweetest of meals. We're going to be here all night until I've had my fill for the night" he coos at you while his fingers were still pumping inside you refusing to let your body come down even the slightest.

Your body quivered from the force of release as you said "Alastor wait, please it's too much"

You heard him chuckle when your sight focused you could see that his grin widened, while his crimson eyes were glittering with wicked delight. He didn't slow, didn't falter, as if your cries were a melody meant only for him. “Ah, but we're hardly finished, my dear, we've only just begun" he purred, savoring your trembling state. "Didn't I promise? Tonight belongs to you...and I won't stop until every last ounce of you is singing for me."

The night stretched on, your voice breaking, body yielding again and again, until pleasure blurred into delirium and you were left trembling in his arms-just as he said you would be. He kissed your forehead as he picked you up and carried you back home. You fell asleep in his arms listening to him hum a soft tune. He noticed you fast asleep and chuckled to himself ever so pleased that the night had played out exactly as he planned. Next time he would see how many times you'd cum on his cock.

[chxrryb0mbxo]

You're using my drawing as your header.

I feel so honoured! Thank you! 🥺

Omg I love your drawing!!! Thanks for drawing it 🥺😍

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"SLEEPYHEAD"

In this one alastor wakes you up and punishes you for not following his very simple instruction.....

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Trigger warning- knife play

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You woke to the sound of humming. Low, melodic, and far too close.

Your eyes blinked open, disoriented for a moment, only to find crimson eyes already fixed on you alight with amusement.

"Well, well, sleepyhead..." Alastor's voice was honey over steel. “...about time you joined us in the waking world."

It took you a second to realize why you couldn't move quite the way you wanted. His hands were already on you - one splayed firmly against your hip, the other resting high on your ribs, fingers spread as if claiming territory.

You started to speak, but he cut in with a quiet tsk.

“No, no, no. Don't ruin the moment with chatter. I've been very patient, princess... and patience is not one of my favorite games.”

He leaned over you, bracing one arm beside your head so his shadow fell across your face. “Do you know what's wonderful about waking you like this?” His grin sharpened. "You're too drowsy to remember that prey should run.”

Your pulse quickened, but his touch didn't falter. He trailed his fingers with slow precision, watching the way you reacted to each inch.

"There's my good girl... still soft, still warm, still mine.” The last word lingered like a brand.

When you shifted under him, his grin only grew. "Ah-ah... don't wriggle unless I tell you to. You're here to be obedient, not to think."

He lowered his voice until it was almost a growl. “And right now, I'm going to remind you exactly who owns you before you're even fully awake.”

His thumb brushed along your jaw, tilting your face toward his. “Say it, princess."

Your voice came out weak from sleep, but it didn't matter he heard it. "You... Own me..."

The satisfaction in his expression was unmistakable. He pressed his forehead briefly to yours, almost tender if not for the possessive grip still holding you still.

“Good girl...” he murmured, his tone dropping to something dark and full of promise. "...now let me wake you properly."

His grin never faded as he adjusted his grip, sliding you further beneath him so you were pinned from shoulder to hip. The cane wasn't in sight he didn't need it. His hands alone were enough to keep you exactly where he wanted.

"You know, princess...” His voice was light, conversational, but the pressure of his hold was anything but. “...I did give you a very simple instruction last night.”

Your brows knit in confusion, and he chuckled. "Be up before me."

The grin widened, sharp and full of teeth. "And yet... here you are. Sleeping. Defenseless. Practically inviting trouble."

Before you could answer, the cool kiss of steel ghosted against your skin flat edge of a blade, teasing but unyielding. He traced it slowly, letting you feel the weight of the threat without a single cut.

“Mmm... perhaps you've forgotten how serious I am about rules. Shall I remind you?"

You swallowed hard, and his chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “Oh, I do love that look, darling... the mix of fear and anticipation. Suits you beautifully."

His hand at your hip tightened, anchoring you, while the knife skimmed up to rest just beneath your chin, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"You're going to stay right here while I make you pay for sleeping in. You'll take every second of it, you'll thank me, and by the end...” his eyes glinted, “...you'll beg me to do it again."

He lowered his mouth to your ear, voice a velvet growl. “And don't think for a second that I'll stop when you ask nicely. You'll get your mercy only when I decide you've earned it. Until then..." The knife traced a slow path back down, “...you're mine to wake as I see fit."

Your breath caught, and he hummed approvingly. “Good girl... already learning."

Alastor traced the blade around your body until he found the perfect spot for his work, right over your heart. "Mmmm, I think my name would look beautiful carved right ..... here ..." He exclaimed happily.... The second the blade bit into your skin you yelped... Alastor only chuckled darkly and continued carving his name in a beautiful script, only stopping to lick away the blood as he went.

Once he was finished Alastor admired his work. It was exquisite really. "Beautiful." he sighed. "You wear my mark so well darling. Beautiful everytime."

The blade slipped away, set aside with a deliberate click against the floor a sound meant to remind you it was still close. His hands replaced it instantly, one braced on your chest to keep you down, the other locking around your hip like a vice.

"You've made such a mess of my morning, princess," he said, his voice almost lazy despite the unyielding weight of him above you. “Although I don't mind a messy morning.. I am going to make quite a mess of yours in return.”

You flinched when his grip shifted between your legs, and that only made his grin sharpen. “Ah... sensitive already? That won't do. We're just beginning."

His movements were calculated, every touch designed to push you further than the last never giving you time to catch your breath, never letting you ground yourself. Each time you thought you'd reached your limit, he found a new way to drag another gasp, another shiver, another orgasm out of you.

“That's it... good girl. Take it. Take all of it for me."

Your head turned instinctively, but he caught your chin, forcing your gaze back to his. “No hiding, my little prey. I want you to look at me while I ruin you."

When you whimpered, he laughed low and delighted. “Oh, that's adorable. You think I'm going to stop just because you're starting to come apart? No, no... I'll stop when you can't even remember what 'stop' means."

He shifted his weight just enough to free one hand, which came down the sting sharply against your thigh making you jolt. "Mine,” he growled, leaving his palm pressed there to feel the way you trembled.

You tried to speak, but the words tangled in your throat. He tilted his head, grin wicked. “Go on... tell me. Who owns you? Whose mark do you wear?"

Your answer was breathless, barely audible. "You do... Sir. I wear yours..."

The approval in his gaze was immediate, molten and fierce. “Good girl." His voice dripped with satisfaction. “Now let's see how many times I can hear you say that before your voice gives out."

And he didn't let up, he filled you in one sharp thrust not giving you time to adjust to his length and girth — every move building on the last, pace unrelenting, thrusts merciless until you were clinging to him out of instinct, your mind reduced to nothing but the sound of his voice, the press of his hands, and the way he pulsed inside of you while stretching and filling you completely.

By the time he finally slowed and filled you with his seed, you were trembling so hard you could barely keep your eyes open you lost count of how many times you came long ago. He gathered you up against him with possessive ease, letting you feel the steady hum of his chest under your cheek.

"That's my girl,” he murmured, the words half praise, half claim.

"Completely undone... and still mine, you'll always be mine. I'm never going to let you go my dear. I'll ensure you'll never want to be anything but mine”

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"CAUGHT AND PUNISHED"

The forest was alive with sound, but the loudest thing in your ears was your own breathing. Each inhale came ragged, each exhale sharp in the cool night air. Branches clawed at your arms as you pushed through the underbrush, heart pounding. You didn't dare look back-because you knew he was there.

A low, amused chuckle floated through the darkness. “Run, little darling... oh, you're making this so very fun for me...”

You quickened your pace, boots slipping slightly in the damp earth, but every sound you made seemed to echo back to you, betraying your position.

Then came the growl-low, rumbling, predatory. It wasn't far behind.

You ducked between two trees, forcing yourself deeper into the shadows, trying to mask your breath. For a moment, there was silence...

...and then he was simply there, leaning lazily against a trunk, that wide grin cutting through the dark like a blade.

Before you could bolt, a hand shot out, catching you by the wrist, spinning you into his chest. His other hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up toward his.

"Tsk, tsk... did you really think you could get away from me, princess?"

You felt the press of his fingers, firm and unyielding, his voice velvet-wrapped steel. “Mine,” he purred, eyes glittering with hunger. "Say it."

When you hesitated, his grin only widened, teeth flashing. "Say it... or I'll make you." His tone promised both punishment and praise, a heady mixture that made your pulse race.

"I'm yours, all yours"

His thumb stroked over your lower lip, gaze darkening. "Good girl," he murmured as you finally whispered the words. "Now... I think you know what happens to prey when the predator catches them."

Breathless you whisper "Yes, sir"

Alastor's grip didn't loosen when you said the words - if anything, it tightened. His fingers curled around your jaw, tilting your head just enough that his grin was the only thing you could focus on.

"That's better, little prey," he crooned, voice a silken trap. "So polite when you remember who you belong to."

You barely had time to gasp before he pushed you back against the rough bark of a tree. The impact stole your breath, his tall frame caging you in. His cane clattered to the ground beside you, leaving both hands free one pinning your wrists high above your head, the other roaming, possessive, as though memorizing the shape of you.

The low sound he made a deep, satisfied hum vibrated through you. "Look at you... flushed, trembling, breathing like a cornered rabbit." His grin widened, eyes locked on yours. "Delicious."

You tried to turn your head away, but he caught your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Don't hide from me, princess." His tone sharpened, the dangerous edge of command threading through it. "I want to see every flicker of fear... and every spark of want."

The hand holding your wrists shifted, fingers splaying so his palm pressed hard against your skin possessive, unyielding. "You've been very bold tonight," he drawled, head tilting as if deciding your fate. "And bold little things earn... consequences."

His breath ghosted your ear, his words slow and deliberate. "I'm going to leave my mark on you... and you'll carry it until I decide otherwise. Understand?"

When you nodded too quickly, he chuckled low and warm. "Oh no, no, no... I want to hear it."

Your voice wavered. "Yes... Sir."

The satisfaction in his answering hum was palpable. "Good girl..."

Your wrists stayed trapped above your head, his grip like iron. Alastor leaned in so close you could see the flicker of red in his eyes, feel the slow curve of his smile against your cheek.

"Mmm... such a pretty little thing when you're caught," he purred. "But you've been far too reckless tonight. Running. Hiding. Testing me."

His free hand trailed down your side not gentle, but deliberate, as if mapping out exactly where to break you down. His nails scraped lightly along your skin, drawing a startled gasp. He laughed low in his throat, clearly savoring the sound.

"That's right, make noise for me... let me hear how easy it is to get under your skin."

You shifted against the tree, and his grin sharpened. "Oh no, princess. You don't get to move unless I tell you to. You don't get to breathe without my say so." His voice dipped into a dangerous hum. "Tonight, you're not just mine... you're my example."

With a swift tug, he yanked you forward only to spin you and press you hard into the bark again, his chest flush against your back. His breath was hot at your ear, his tone a delicious threat.

"You want to be a good girl? You'll take everything I give you. Every mark. Every bruise. Every single reminder that you're owned."

Your protest caught halfway in your throat, but he heard it and it made him chuckle. "Ah, ah, ah... I'm not done with you. You'll stand there, you'll let me ruin you, and you'll thank me for the privilege."

He let your wrists go for only a heartbeat before catching them again and slamming them back into place above your head, the sharp sting of his palm following immediately after in a crack against your hip.

"One..." His voice was sing-song, almost mocking. "Oh, darling, we're going to be counting quite high tonight."

When you shivered, his mouth brushed your ear, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Good girl... that's the spirit.

Now-" he tilted his head, grinning wide enough for you to hear it in his words, “—scream for me, little prey. Let the whole forest know you've been caught.”

The first strike had barely settled into your skin before the next landed sharper, deliberate, the echo of his palm ringing through the stillness of the forest.

"Two..." he drawled, almost lazily. “My, my, you do mark up beautifully."

Your fingers curled instinctively, and he noticed oh, he always noticed. His laugh was low, full of satisfaction. "Oh, is that a little squirm I feel? Careful, darling... you might make me think you're enjoying this."

Another strike harder this time. The sting flared, and you let out a moan that you couldn't quite stifle. His grin deepened against your ear.

“Ah... there's my good girl. Music to my ears."

Without warning, he spun you back to face him, pinning you once again with that unblinking crimson gaze. His hands were everywhere at once gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your head exactly where he wanted it.

"Eyes on me," he ordered, voice dropping into something dangerous. “I want you to watch exactly how I take you apart."

You tried to hide your face instinctively, but his grip only tightened, his smile sharpening. “No, no, no... prey doesn't get to hide from the predator.” His tone softened just enough to make your heart flutter. "Besides... you're so beautiful when you break."

He pushed you back into the tree again, his movements calculated, relentless not giving you space to think, only react. His voice wrapped around you like a vice.

"We'll keep going until you can't tell the difference between pain and pleasure. Until you're mine in more than just words."

Your breath hitched, but before you could speak, he interrupted his grin almost cruel in its delight. “What's wrong, little prey? Already overwhelmed? We've barely started."

He caught your chin again, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You're not done. Not until I say so. And I'll keep pushing until the only thing in your head is me."

A hand slid back to your hip, fingers digging into tender skin as he leaned close enough for his next words to vibrate against your lips.

“Good girls take it all. And you... are going to be my very best."

You didn't even know how much time had passed, you were breathless and you could feel every part of your body like it was on fire. You didn't even realize you'd been trembling until he finally stilled. His hands stayed on you - not loosening, but shifting their grip, keeping you upright when your legs wavered.

That grin was still there, sharp as ever, but the way his thumb brushed your cheek was almost... gentle. Almost.

"Well...” he purred, tilting his head to take you in, “...look at you, my darling. Marked. Breathless. Perfectly ruined."

You tried to catch your breath, but he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low hum. “And still standing. You've done so well for me tonight."

The praise warmed and ached all at once. He seemed to drink in your reaction, his smile softening by a fraction. "Good girl... my good girl."

One hand trailed down your side, fingertips brushing over the fresh sting of his marks. He lingered there, almost protective over the heat and tenderness he'd left behind. "You'll feel this tomorrow... every step you take, every move you make, you'll remember who you belong to."

Your eyes fluttered shut, and he chuckled quietly. "Tired already? Mm, no, no stay with me, little prey."

His arms came around you then, drawing you in against him, not out of softness exactly, but possession the kind that made it clear you weren't going anywhere. His voice was velvet again, wrapping you up in its rhythm.

"You are mine. Every gasp. Every sound. Every inch of you. And I will protect what's mine... even from yourself."

For a fleeting moment, he let you rest your head against his chest, the steady hum in his throat resonating through you. But even then, there was no mistaking the way his fingers still held you - like a leash, invisible but unbreakable.

"Now breathe, princess,” he murmured, his lips grazing your temple. "We'll walk out of here together... and when the forest hears you next, it'll know exactly who you belong to."

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Alastor's praises

"Good girl... such a perfect little thing for me."

"My obedient pet... you make it so easy to adore you."

"Ahh, my darling, you take every bit of me so beautifully."

"Mmm, such an exquisite creature mine to keep."

"What a precious little morsel you are."

"You please me so well, sweetheart."

"My perfect prize... always worth the chase."

"My little darling... you did so well for me."

"You're mine, always... my perfect little girl."

"Such a delightful little creature, and I won't let anyone else have you."

"Good girl... my property, my prize, my darling."

"Delightful... my little toy, trembling for me so nicely."

"My, my... taking me so well, my perfect little girl."

"Good girl... my greedy little minx, all mine."

"Now, now... my perfect little toy, taking all my focus so nicely!"

"My, my... what a naughty little darling you are."

"Such a greedy little thing... taking me so eagerly!"

"Well, well... what a delightful little creature we have here."

"You're mine... such a good little girl."

"Only I get to have someone as perfect as you."

"You take my attention so nicely... my charming little minx."

Alastor's possessive degradation

"You're my slut, and don't you forget it."

"Mine to ruin... mine to fix... mine always."

"Such a needy little pet — desperate for your master's attention.”

"Oh, my greedy little darling... always hungry for more of me."

"My delicious little prey... made just for my amusement."

"You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Because you're mine."

"Such a shameless little thing for me and only me."

Alastor's Commands

"Be a good girl... and take what I give you."

"On your knees, pet. Don't keep me waiting."

"Stay still, my dear I'm not finished."

"Hands behind your back... chin up. Let me look at you."

"Run. Make me work for it... I like the hunt."

"Tell me who you belong to."

"Don't speak unless I tell you to. I want silence... and obedience."

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"ALASTOR SHORT KINK IMAGINES"

Kink 1 - Predator/Prey (Primal Play) & Praise

The forest is silent except for the faint, ghostly hum of static.

Somewhere behind you, a deep, sing-song voice echoes:

"Ohhh my, what a delightful little morsel you make."

You run, breathless, but Alastor's laugh is closer now impossibly close.

In a blink, he's in front of you, grinning wide.

"Caught you, my dear... and you know what that means."

His hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing your lips.

"Such a good girl for letting me hunt you."

Kink 2 - Choking & Praise

You're backed against the wall, Alastor's tall frame looming.

One hand pins your wrists above your head, the other rests lightly at your throat.

"Well, well... look at my good little darling, all breathless for me."

His grip tightens just enough to make your pulse race.

"Only I get to have you like this. Only me."

He leans in close, his grin wicked.

"You take it so well... such a perfect little thing."

Kink 3 - Primal Play and Possession

You're on the floor, Alastor's shadow falling over you.

In one swift motion, he's straddling your hips, holding your wrists down with inhuman strength.

"My, my... how eagerly you get caught, pet."

He leans in until you can feel his breath, his voice crackling like a radio signal.

"You're mine keep." to chase, to catch, to own

His grin widens.

"And such a good girl for not fighting me too hard."

Kink 4 - Possession & Spanking

You're bent over his desk, the faint scent of old paper and dust filling the air.

"Such a greedy little thing..." SMACK his hand lands hard, leaving a sharp sting.

"You'll remember exactly who you belong to."

Another sharp swat, then his hand smoothing over the spot.

"Good girl... take it for me."

His voice drops lower, darker.

"You're mine to mark however I please."

Kink 5 - Biting, Growls & Praise

You're pinned beneath him on the couch, his grin stretched impossibly wide.

Without warning, his teeth sink into your shoulder you gasp. sharp enough to make

"Mmm... delicious,” he hums, almost purring.

"You wear my marks so well."

He tilts his head, eyes glowing faintly.

"My perfect little prey... always so willing to be caught."

[chxrryb0mbxo]

Alastor imagines

1 - The Hunt (Primal Play + Predator/Prey)

The static hum follows you through the dark woods.

"Ohhh, this is my favorite game,"

Alastor's voice sings somewhere behind you.

Branches snap and then he's there, grinning from ear to ear, blocking your path.

“Run, run, little prey,” he chuckles. “Make it fun for me."

You dart to the side, but his shadow flickers, and suddenly his hand is around your throat.

"Caught you,” he purrs. “And you know what happens now, my good girl."

2 - Wall Pin (Choking + Praise Kink + Possession)

You barely have time to gasp before he's pressed you to the wall, wrists pinned above your head.

"My, my... look at you,” his fingers tighten at your throat, enough to make your knees weaken.

"You're my good little girl, aren't you? Say it."

When you whisper it, he grins wider.

“Mmm, music to my ears. Only I get to touch you like this. Only me."

3 - Desk Discipline (Spanking + Marks)

He bends you over the desk, his palm smoothing over your skin before SMACK - the sting blooms across you.

"Such a naughty thing... but still my perfect little pet."

Another sharp swat leaves a handprint, and he chuckles.

"Oh, you'll be wearing me for days, darling. What a good girl for taking it so well."

4 — The Bite (Biting + Growls)

You're trapped beneath him, his weight pinning you in place.

His grin sharpens before his teeth sink into your shoulder, pulling a gasp from your throat.

"Mmm... delicious," he growls low, almost a rumble.

"You wear my marks so well, sweetheart. My prey... my possession."

5 - The Game of Restraints (Dom/Sub + Sir Dynamic)

Alastor circles you slowly, cane tapping the floor.

"Hands behind your back, pet. Chin up." When you obey instantly, his smile turns feral.

"Such obedience... such a perfect little submissive. You make it so easy for me to take control."

6 - The Kiss & Command (Kissing + Praise)

His mouth meets yours in a sudden, consuming kiss.

When you're breathless, he pulls back just enough to murmur, “Good girl... you taste exquisite."

His hand cups your jaw, tilting your head.

"Now... do that again. For me."

7 - Breeding Talk (Possessive)

Alastor's voice drops to a dangerously low purr, his eyes glowing faintly. “You know what I'd love, my dear? To fill you until you remember who you belong to every time you move." He chuckles darkly at your shiver. "Such a good girl for wanting it... all mine."

8 - The Public Risk (Exhibitionism)

He's close - far too close — in a place where anyone could walk by.

"My, my... such a bold little darling," he says, brushing his fingers along your neck.

"Do you think they'd notice how flustered you are? Or how much you love the danger?"

His grin widens. "What a delicious little risk we're taking."

9 - Static Command (Dirty Talk + Growls)

The radio hum in his voice deepens, wrapping around you.

"Look at you... my perfect little pet, all worked up for me. So desperate to please."

A low growl rumbles in his chest.

"Say you're mine... and maybe I'll reward you."

10 - The Final Catch (All-In Scene)

You're running — breathless, laughing, heart pounding — but the static is always behind you.

Then arms snatch you from behind, spinning you into his chest.

"Got you," Alastor says, eyes bright.

His grip at your throat is firm, his body crowding yours, and you can feel the faint sting of his teeth on your neck.

"Mmm... you're mine now, good girl. And I'm not letting you go until I've had every bit of you."

[chxrryb0mbxo]

"AFTERCARE"

Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/chxrryb0mbxo/791834711504879616/the-wake-up-call?source=share

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/chxrryb0mbxo/791835539176357888/a-punishment-taken-perfectly?source=share

This is part 3

The room smells faintly of sweat and static, the radio still murmuring in the background. Your body is heavy, muscles trembling with every small movement.

Alastor doesn't move away right away he hovers over you, watching the way your chest rises and falls. His grin is softer now, but no less possessive. "Oh, my little pet looks absolutely spent..." he purrs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "You've done so well for me."

He pulls you upright without asking, settling you in his lap like you weigh nothing. You can feel his arm locked firm around your waist, keeping you exactly where he wants you. His other hand cups the back of your neck, fingers pressing just enough to remind you he could hold you there forever if he wished, you wished he did.

"Such a good girl,” he murmurs against your temple, his voice warm but with that consistent underlying control. “All marked up, shaking, and still here in my arms where you belong."

He tilts your head to the side, inspecting the bruises along your neck and collarbone his handiwork from earlier. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest. “Mmm... beautiful. Every mark is a promise. Anyone who sees them will know you're mine."

When you shift slightly, he tightens his hold, his lips brushing your ear. "Ah-ah... none of that. You stay right here until I say otherwise. I'm not done enjoying my view."

One gloved hand slides slowly down your back, pressing firmly, possessively.

"You're not leaving this bed without my permission, princess. You're mine in the act... and you're mine after. Every second. Every breath."

He leans in, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head not tender in the usual sense, but sealing the claim. "Good girl. Rest now... You'll need to for when we play again."