[fragileza]

──── ( 𝓥 )。twenty two ﾉ any pronouns.

𝒆𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒆... hazbin hotel centric blog⭑ sfw and (n)sfw content aswell as a dark content friendly space. you must be 18+ to interact. mdni, ( minors , spam likers , blank blogs will be blocked ) ❤︎ not a spoiler free zone & request are open however i cannot guarantee i'll write it + thoughts are encouraged.

© fragileza · do not feed my writing or art to ai, translate, repost, or modify them on any platform.

‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ . 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 ᵎᵎ

☆ ₊˚‧ SICK THOUGHTS :: multiple characters , gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ the parts of your body they're obsessed with.꒱

☆ ₊˚‧ FEMME FATALE :: multiple characters , gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ the parts of your body they're obsessed with, but girls version. ꒱

☆ ₊˚‧ DOWNTOWN VIEWS :: multiple characters 、𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. suggestive.

⤿ ꒰ how they react to your nipple piercing ꒱

☆ ₊˚‧ KISS ME FROM THE RUSH :: multiple characters , gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ little nasty things they do during sex. ꒱

☆ ₊˚‧ I KNOW WHAT YOU FANTASIZE ABOUT :: multiple characters , gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ or when they finally get to try their fantasies. ꒱

‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ . 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ᵎᵎ

✧ ₊˚‧ HOMEWRECKER :: vincent whittman, female reader 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. mildly dubious consent

⤿ ꒰ your husband is a liar, but at this point, you can't say you're that surprised ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ EAT ME ALIVE :: alastor, gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ you are having a bad day. alastor makes it better by making it worst. ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ IN MY MOUTH :: alastor, gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. mind break.

⤿ ꒰ you like to think that alastor loves you, enough to ruin you and put you back together ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ SHARPEN YOUR TEETH (AND BITE AS HARD AS YOU WANT) :: ex husband ! alastor, female reader 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ just two idiots who can't get over each other, even after all those years ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ BODYACHE :: vox, gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. dubious consent , coercion.

⤿ ꒰ being your boss favorite employee has it's perks, like him choosing what lingerie you must wear, for example ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ GLORY BOX :: lucifer, female reader 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. virginity loss.

⤿ ꒰ this part of sex always scares you, lucky you lucifer is good to you, maybe a little too much ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ DARK DOO WOP :: father's best friend ! alastor, vox's daughter ! reader 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. age gap.

⤿ ꒰ you should have know better than to mess with alastor, but you're selfish and greedy, and you don't want to stop ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ PRETTY PLEASE :: vox, gender neutral reader 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖.

⤿ ꒰ when sex with your boss is no different that putting a dog out of its misery ꒱

✧ ₊˚‧ AIN'T SHE SWEET :: alastor, gender neutral reader with afab anatomy 、𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ꗃ : cw. blood play + blood kink.

⤿ ꒰ alastor can't help himself when it comes to you, or your blood, for the same reason ꒱

‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ . 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ᵎᵎ

♡ ₊˚‧ I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME ﹙ multi , suggestive ﹚ 𑂾 or how they like to kiss you.

♡ ₊˚‧ HOLY GHOST ﹙ multi , sfw ﹚ 𑂾 or the things they do when they miss you

♡ ₊˚‧ CHERRY WINE ﹙ multi , sfw ﹚ 𑂾 or little things you do that make them fall in love again

♡ ₊˚‧ KISS ME FROM THE RUSH ﹙ multi , nsfw ﹚ 𑂾 or little nasty things they do during sex

♡ ₊˚‧ IN SICKNESS AND IN RUT ﹙ alastor , nsfw ﹚ 𑂾 or you get sick while alastor is in rut.

‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ . 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 ᵎᵎ

❥ alastor + edging ❥ cherry chaser ! vox ❥ alastor + masochist ! reader ❥ valentino + kidnapped ! reader

[fragileza]

HI. HI IT'S ME THE PERSON WHO ASKED FOR THE LUCI FIC

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say this but ASDKFHSKFJKSJDD *FERAL FOAMING AT THE MOUTH* actually?? That was literally one of the best Luci fics I've read??? I screamed when I saw my ask got answered and I screamed AGAIN when I read how good it was -

*cough* do it again *cough*

Literally, any time you want to write Dom! Lucifer I will be haunting the front doorstep of your blog SO READY to read it. You're my #1 tumblr writer right now and I wish you all the blessings from the writing gods 💓

Happy writing Miss Emma!!!

lucifer nonnie, i'm so happy to see you again!!! thank you so much for leaving such a lovely ask in my inbox and being so kind about my writing 😭💖

it has made me so happy to know that you’re enjoying my work so much!!! i especially had lots of fun with lucifer <3

thank you for being here!! i hope you will continue to enjoy my creations, you can bet i'll be writing more lucifer fics in the future. thank you again for taking the time to send this in 🥹🌸

[fragileza]

hi sweet and amazing writer Ꮚ꒰๑❛ ꈊ ❛๑꒱Ꮚ 🤍 hope that you're having a good day/evening and that you're staying hydrated !!

I've been pondering a lot if I should actually send this, I'm pretty shy when it comes to these things but I had this idea in mind that I feel like you would absolutely rock! I think that Alastor with blood play would do a good click 👀 he's got such sharp claws that I feel like it would be impossible for him to scratch the soft skin he grasps so viciously,, and to resist a taste of such tempting nectar? surely not on his watch. 🙂‍↕️

If it's not something that piques your interest, it's totally fine!

here's the fic !

hii my love!! i hope that you have been well and taking care 🌸✨️

i´m so sorry for taking this long, exams and presentations were killing me off :(( exams and presentations were absolutely killing me, so thank you so much for being so patient with me 😭💕

also, thank you so much for trusting me with your idea!! 💖 ++ i've always wanted to write something like this for alastor, it ended up being really fun to write, and i genuinely hope i did your idea justice 🫶

and always so happy whenever you stop by <33 i hope life has been treating you well, i hope you get to enjoy something tasty and get lots of wonderful rest these days MWAH!

[fragileza]

. 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ ♡ 𖥻 𝑨𝑰𝑵❜𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑻 : alastor can't help himself when it comes to you, or your blood, for the same reason. alastor x reader ﾉ masterlist

˖ ࣪૮₍ cw ᝰ.ᐟ✧ minors dni :: afab reader with no gendered pronouns used :: blood play + blood kink :: dacryphilia :: possessiveness :: marking :: scratching :: p in v :: pain play :: cunnilingus :: clit teasing :: fear play :: prone bone ა ࣪˖

based on this ask !

it must be sweet.

you, still aching and breaking, grow soft on him, like a fractured thing leaking honey sweet affection. there is so much love in you that does not know where to go— it overflows. it squeezes out of the cracks in your crumbling walls. it spills onto him and when he goes to clean it off it lingers in his mouth.

( he aches for more. he spits it out. it satiates. it makes him hunger in a way that hunger never used to describe )

alastor is enthusiastic. he's not hesitant at all, not at this, and your head falls back against the pillows as everything between your legs goes bright and warm with pleasure under alastor's tongue. alastor's tongue reaches up and up and into you. it's freakish, it's insane—but you feel the pressure of it inside of you. it keeps coming and coming and coming, until it curls around the nub of your cervix and dips inside.

"fuck—!," you whimper, "alastor, please, yes—"

you can't possibly begin to articulate what you're begging for, but alastor seems to take that as some kind of plea. he doesn't even break his rhythm as his hands finds the backs of your thighs and digs in so hard that alastor can pick up the sweet copper tang of blood from where his own claws are leaving scratches as he holds you open for him.

alastor just makes a sound of delight, casual and pleased, and keeps going.

your fingers wind into the sheets and you moan without fully realizing you're even bleeding because you, terrible pathetic masochist that you are, can't help but goad him into tasting it. his lips on yours like nails over fresh scar tissue. splitting you open to weep anew.

your voice cracks on a keen as alastor's tongue bullies at a part of you that nobody has ever touched quite like this. you're a little softer there, right now, a little more open—and alastor keeps at it just like that, lapping at you like he's fucking drinking you, each slick drag of heat making your hips twitch fruitlessly in alastor's tight grip as shocks of pleasure skitter, electric and irregular, up your spine.

it's not firm, there's no real friction, but it's—wet, and warm, and it's alastor—and he brushes against your clit, sometimes, mostly on accident, just the side of his nose, or the top of his lip, and it's so—it's so—

you make a confused sound when he pulls away.

"wh-why?" you ask. when you look down, his eyes are lidded, molten red, magma glowing through a crack in the earth, blood in the water, rubies set in steel—a hand cups your knee gently, thumb pressing into the little divot in the side of it, and you feel faint.

he shifts, his obsidian claws digging into the soft skin of your thighs as he steadies himself, and you wince instinctively at the familiar, stinging sensation blooming and the flesh beneath follows his touch. it's a sharp, sudden heat. a pleasant ache.

you know the crimson beads of blood are forming where he holds you, but you don't pull away.

"still so fragile. you bruise like a ripe peach, yet you hold so still." alastor wears a mischievous grin, knowing damn well what you want and opting to see just how full you can get without bursting at the seams.

"alastor?" you ask, plaintive. everything is fuzzy with heat and alastor's mouth looks like a fucking weapon. you want—

"yes, dear?" his arm wraps around your thigh and pulls it up over until it rests heavily against his shoulder. you let out a squeak as you're bodily tugged up a little more.

"what-what are you—?"

"well then," he murmurs and presses his face to the site of the scratch. "none of this should go to waste, and you are ever so willing, if i'm the one asking, aren't you?"

the movement exposes the jagged puncture wounds near the insides of your thigh. the blood is dark and vibrant, tracing slow, lazy paths down your skin.

​alastor isn't looking at your face anymore, but at the evidence of his own mark. he hums a discordant, satisfied note in the back of his throat as he leans closer.

"o-oh." you might be shaking. when alastor speaks, you can feel the heat of his breath against your cunt, a gentle brush of temptation. you suddenly want nothing more than to shove a hand into alastor's hair and grind against his face. "oh, god."

"just me," alastor hums. "too late to pray, i'm afraid."

when his tongue finally traces upward the length of the fresh scratch, your entire body goes taut. the sensation is exquisite, a friction that feels like a burn being soothed and reopened all at once. when he reaches the deepest of the wounds, his mouth lingers over the broken skin as his tongue dips into the indentation.

you feel—hypersensitive, there, maybe even more than your cunt. you're throbbing, can feel the wetness pulsing out of you with no way to tell if it's blood or your own want, and alastor just—takes his time, like he's savoring it like he's sampling a fine wine. he trails up one of your thighs, nips at the sensitive place where thigh meets hip, and then trails down the other side to clean up there, too, paying no attention to the increasingly desperate hitching of your breath.

you stifle a gasp and immediately give yourself away, trying in vain to grind against his hand that rests over your mound.

"al-alastor, i need to... to..." your labored breaths tell the story for you, the heat dripping from your slit punctuating your request.

you can't wriggle your way onto his fingers, even if you're treated to the uncanny, horrifying sensation of alastor's claw, curling gently, tenderly, against one of your most intimate places; the emptiness hurts. the half-assed teasing isn't enough, and alastor knows it. "hm? you need to what, stop?" when he pulls back, there's a bit of red at the corner of alastor's lips. he leaves his face pressed against the curve of your leg, his nose grazing the heated skin near the wound. he leans down to press a firm, possessive kiss near the spot he just cleaned, his hand tightening once more, inviting the sting to return.

"no! no, no–fuck, i– can you touch me some more?" you whimper, swallowing.

admittedly, you can't really tell what he's doing at this point; everything's blurred by tears of ecstasy and pain. garbled nonsense torn into scraps of coherence as alastor swirls his thumb over your clit, as if it wouldn't be your own fault for trying to get a safe fingertip by lifting your hips to his hand.

"i believe i'm spending quite a lot of time doing just that, sweetheart." he says, his tone condescendingly sweet, dripping with the affection one might show a particularly insect pinned behind glass. in retaliation he bites the inside of your thigh until you squeal. sucks until your skin discolors and he knows, knows, those pathetic little cries are for him. if you're crying he wants it to be for him.

he reaches up with a clawed finger, tracing the damp trail his tongue left behind, pressing firmly enough to reopen the wounds, letting a fresh bead of red well up just to watch it bloom. he laps that, too.

"i'm not," you stutter, "i didn't—"

"there is no need for such bashfulness now," he chides softly against your thigh, the wet sound of his tongue echoing in the quiet room. alastor finally puts down your leg to lick off the heel of his palm after. "after all, you have always been quite generous with your secrets. why should this be any different?"

there's still blood at the corner of his mouth, and if you didn't know where it really came from, it would feel like a threat. it feels dangerous, and you shiver under the pressure of it for a new reason—though not entirely new.

"i want to come," you whine pathetically. your whole pelvis is throbbing despite the faint soreness of your body. you're been so close for what feels like hours.

you're being shy. it almost makes him laugh. he places a hand on your stomach and you shiver again.

"you wanted to come, yes? turn over. on your stomach,"

you shiver but listen with ease. alastor likes seeing your face—but this is a reward. you lay on your stomach underneath him, limp and focused on nothing but getting fucked and alastor still gets to be as close to you as possible, bodies pressed together and all.

it must be sweet.

alastor won't ever get over it. the sight of your spine covered in sweat, the slight raise of trembling hips, all the curves and scars he's lapped over and over again. cheek pressed to the the space where your neck meets the curve of your back, alastor rubs his nose amongst the baby hairs that sprinkle your nape.

"you are such a quiet, compliant thing," he feels at his wits when he finally bends himself over you to fuck you. you push yourself up against him as invitation as alastor lets his cock rest against the swell of your ass.

you spread your legs for him as alastor slowly, carefully finds the right angle until the tip of his cock catches.

your pussy stretches for him like it was made to do exactly this. the ruddy, leaking head of slides into you with ease. silken walls hugging him, enveloping him in an impossible warmth. he puts both hands on your hips—making sure to ease in slowly, even if there's new scratches blooming there as well.

you gasp. "w-wait, wai—nghh,"

"shh," alastor soothes with false sympathy—you don't know how to describe how it feels now. he holds steady anyways until he bottoms out, his pelvis flush to your ass. "just relax, my dear."

alastor drops his head onto your shoulders. he noses his way down to the junction of your shoulder and neck where the muscles settle. after a single chaste kiss, his teeth dig into your neck, piercing the skin with precise fury. the burn spreads through your face and chest like poison to a wound; gasping and whining every time alastor sucks at the fresh marks.

there's meaning in that, too; your dark blood runs thicker when you're gasping with pain, and that means it's heartier and richer, dribbling down his chin like molasses but earthy like a tree spewing maple syrup.

he pulls out and pushes back in all at once.

"c'est exquis," alastor murmurs against the back of your neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck, fraying every nerve and severing your connection to your body as he ruts himself into you again and again.

his grip is always tender, but there's a lethal firmness to it, and even he can't deny that he'll sometimes squeeze your jaw just enough to fill your head with the sounds of your neck snapping and your bones cracking. it never fails to make him laugh softly, playfully, almost, when you whimper abortively, when your blood starts to taste sweeter with fear.

it's not fast, but it's deep. in the way that's more brutal then him fucking into you hard. deep and calculated—measured thrusts that force you grind into the bed chasing the friction of your clit. your legs kicking up from the pleasure, just crushed by the weight of him. limp and spent from being strung out so far and simply taking what alastor is giving you. he likes being able to feel you pressed, pinned underneath him.

oh the ecstasy, the sweet relief of pressure relieved. of muscles tearing and tendons snapping. blood pooling and spilling, the most delicate of aged wines like ichor upon histongue. the orgasmic delight of hunger finally, finally, sated.

it must be sweet—he thinks—but no sweeter than this.  

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.

[fragileza]

Good morning to the best writer in this fandom! Might I interest you in my humble request? Your portrayal of Vox is so astonishing that canon Vox can only wish to be as corrupted as the Vox you're showing us, that's why I've been wondering about something regarding him in particular. Desperate, yearning Vox, the impatient, dry humping, coming in pants one, all because reader is somehow immune for his hypnosis abilities and he can barely handle it. For the plot, of course.

Whether you decide to write it or not, I wish you all the best!

. 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ ♡ 𖥻 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 : when sex with your boss is no different that putting a dog out of its misery. vox x reader ﾉ masterlist

˖ ࣪૮₍ cw ᝰ.ᐟ✧ minors dni࣪ :: gender neutral reader :: dry humping / grinding :: coming in pants :: power dynamics :: mild choking :: under-negotiated kink :: semi-public sex / office sex :: humiliation kink :: yearning :: vox being somewhat pathetic & desesperated :: reader is a little mean ა ࣪˖

notes : oh nonnie, this request was such a little treat— you’re so kind! thank you for thinking so, you got me giggling and kicking my feet; this also was the perfect excuse to finish an old draft after months of side-tracking my requests, hopefully is what you expected!

vox thinks of kissing you often.

after you put some report over his desk as he sits down, and you're hovering just a little too close. almost face to face. it would be simple to close the gap, just a matter of a few, bare inches. hardly any space at all. he thinks of kissing you as you step away, brush some imaginary dirt from his sleeve with a laugh. he thinks of kissing you as you wave him goodbye with a barely-there smile.

sometimes, vox really hates you. it's just the way you make him want you. that's all—

"sir?"

the glow across his screen stutters in a brief wash of static before settling again, and only then does he realize you've been standing there talking while he's done nothing except stare at your mouth for the past thirty seconds like a fucking idiot.

( he feels like he's going to do something he regrets. )

you blink at him, brows pinching a little but otherwise even, like this is a totally normal thursday. "velvette sent the quarterly reports?"

"hm," vox hums, not sounding like he really cares either way. he glances at the stack sitting directly in front of him, then waves a hand dismissively. "yeah, yeah, leave 'em there."

"and then?"

"and then what?" vox says flatly, trying so hard to just focus on the folders and not the the way your lips draw south. it makes him feel so—bad and out of control. like the rupturing of rules has unmoored something in his body that primarily registers as waves of burning heat between his legs. he really hates it. he really hates you. "you want a medal for delivering paperwork?"

"i want you to stop asking for things you don’t care about, sir." you walk closer to set your own tablet down on his desk and vox has to physically stop himself from following the movement.

"don't get hysterical on me, now," vox leans back in his chair, grin stretching sharp across his face. "you got a lotta confidence for someone working under me."

"i'm trying to understand why you dragged me up here just to waste my time." you realese a big, laborious sigh.

"waste your—" vox laughs once, loud and humorless, mood seemingly lightened somewhat by the breezy tone of your voice. "you think your time's that valuable?"

"you keep requesting me specifically, so apparently someone does."

"oh, fuck you."

it should feel like winning, getting under your skin, but instead there's something brutal and desperate budding in his chest. he feels like a cornered animal. he feels like he's about to do something he'll regret.

"what is your problem lately?"

"my problem?" the sound of vox's chair creaking as he gets up is enough to make you jump. the realization freeze you for a moment, gasping. "you wanna know what my problem is?"

"sir—"

before you can step back, vox reaches across the desk and grabs your jaw with one hand, long fingers pressing into your cheeks as he tilts your face toward him, the hypnotic rings flare violently across his eye, yanking you closer over the desk.

"just—" vox growls, frustrated enough to sound breathless and distorted. "for once, just fucking—"

vox panics all over again and you must see it in his eyes, because your frown shifts from anified annoyance to something soft, warm, pitying. vox fucking hates you.

he's an open wound on the floor, you could crawl inside it, you could become adhered to him as he coagulates. instead, you wrench your face sideways in his grip.

"vox," is all you say. no honorific, no jokes. you can't even muster the thickness of warning. it's like you're just saying his name, because you like the way it feels on your tongue. "i thought we already established this doesn't work on me," you add, a concession like death.

his face doesn't light up or anything, its not what he wants. not really. you know this. his grip loosens, fingers falling away from your face while embarrassment burns hot under his skin so fast it almost feels like anger instead. fuck. fucking hell.

"whatever. forget it." he mutters and he drops back into his chair with upturned eyes like miserable puddles of topaz, rainwater warmed with a street lamp. "you can go."

he's so used to knowing everything, to be able to control everyone around him at a glance. you want to be kind to him– he doesn't know what to do with that. he doesn't know what to do with any of it, only that if he makes any decision at all, you may shrink away from him, from this.

he can't even deal with that horror right now because you start rounding his desk, the sound of your footsteps against the floor seems absurdly loud in the sudden quiet. he snaps with a feeling like his insides have just gotten caught on a fisherman's hook.

"what exactly do you need from me so badly that you keep trying that?"

"what," his shoulder tense, predatory instinct kicks in automatically. "what the hell are you doing?"

"i won't do anything." you stop directly in front of him, close enough that he has to tilt his head back slightly from his chair. vox suddenly feels very aware of how large you seem standing over him like this. "i just asked you a question, sir."

you say that— i won't do anything. it's cute because he doesn't get it— that you're not worried about him doing something to you. not like you're worried you might do something to him.

"i don't need—" he starts, scoffing. "what kind of—"

"you do," you say, reaching out and putting your hand on the side of his casing, stomach lurching at the slip of softness of your palm. his eyes widen and flash. "you've been acting insane for months now, so explain it to me."

a spill of teal across his screen. he blushes so easily it's going to keep him up at night. "you think you're real funny right now?"

"no." your voice softens. "i think you are pathetic."

vox sputters immediately, offended. "excuse me? watch your fuckin'—"

your hand closes around the front of his throat at the same time your thigh slides between his legs like a knife through butter, forcing them apart as you wedge yourself closer, nearly seated in his lap now. the position pins him effortlessly against the chair, and he can feel the heat of you through the expensive fabric of his slacks.

"holy fuck. shit. christ." vox swallows, watching you with wide, excited eyes. you raise trace a finger over the exposed arch of his throat, feeling the throb of his pulse underneath.

"now," you murmur, letting your eyes go lidded. "try again."

"wh—" vox's throat clicks underneath your hand, dry. "what?"

talking is challenging because he's still so hard, it's depriving his brain of blood. you're so warm against him and you smell so fucking good and there's just never been a moment in all the time he's known you when he didn't want you in his mouth. under his skin.

and maybe he should assert some dominance if he wasn’t more focused on pressing his hot clothed length against your thigh.

"what would hypnotizing me even accomplish?" you press, and so does your hand. "you want me quieter? more obedient? nicer to you?"

velvette's love potion has never work on him before but he imagines this is what it's like to be drugged. he's dizzy, swaying on the spot but he doesn't care because all he can think about is your hands around his throat and the way your knee bumps his growing erection whether you mean for it to or not and how easy it would be to tilt his head forward and—

"i just—" his voice cracks into static. he feels so hot he's surprised the building hasn't lost power yet. his hands grip the arms of the chair hard enough to crack. "you never— fuck—"

vox doesn't whimper, though it's a close thing. his vision flickers, fragmenting, and he doesn't know if his eyelids fluttered or if his entire display just glitched. either way, he can't help but buck upwards, chasing that delicious friction like his life depends on it.

"i what?" you insist.

vox swallows, hips shuddering at each lascivious, harsh roll of his hips, as though he aimed to have his cock inside your cunt regardless of the fabric that separated the pair of you. the commotion is but a mute, irrelevant thing as vox rock back and forth shamelessly, trying to rub the head of his cock against your knee even as he feels the ache of his own erection, where an honest-to-god wet spot is forming.

he can feel how smeary-wet he is, and vox feels like a fucking teenager all over again. everything slick, messy. this is so foul and should be nothing compare to all the things he does on a daily basis, but it already feels like too much, like the pleasure is building towards some unhinged, explosive ending.

it almost hurt, how much he wants you.

"you have any idea," his thighs are so tense he's scared he's going to cramp. "you keep— nobody ignores me like this."

you tilt your head slightly. you lighten your grip, just slightly—enough that vox doesn't have to force his himself to speak. "so this is about your ego?"

"no— yes— maybe—" vox doesn't know what he's babbling. he might agree to anything you say, actually. his brain is clouded, his body tilting forward towards the flame like a moth drawn to its own demise. his cock throbs, and he doesn't want to touch it, but he wants you to touch it, that's for sure. he wants to be sitting against you right now, head lolling back against your shoulder, legs spread so you can jack him off, all careful and tender.

he shouldn't think of you like this. all soft and round, all warm under his touch. he gets flashbulb images— the column of your throat, the curve of your thighs, the dips between your knuckles.

your hands.

( your hands your hands your hands. how they would feel against him, everywhere, anywhere. he imagines begging— you'd be too nice to press, grip, pull as hard as he needs. )

"it's always been this way, hasn't it?," you hum. vox does whimper this time—the sound of a prey animal ready to throw itself into your maw and thank you for the honor.

"n-not like— not in a weird way," vox manages, panting. he's staring up at you, dizzying static playing through his eyes as he struggles to focus. "i mean, obviously in a weird way, but not—"

you tighten your hand around vox's throat, and the words cut off. it's mostly a testament to vox's willingness to humor you, or else he's just very horny to care. it's not like he needs to breathe.

"you're really very pathetic, love box."

eventually vox finds a particularly maddening back-and-forth thrust that rips the pitchiest, most frenzied cries out of his throat. all the while you do nothing. regardless, he's gasping in a rather overwhelmed sort of way as you adjust your thigh, hitching his hips against you with every movement.

"ah—" vox gasps, his vocals are fritzing out on occasion. there’s a trail of red trickling from the corner of his mouth. "oh, fuck—i wanna—"

sparks are flickering up his spine. vox is sure your thigh is getting damp with his wetness, the grind growing more slick, making him squirm and grind down harder, suddenly desperate and oversensitive. you slide your leg forward, pressing his length against you, and moans out loud as the sudden stimulation makes his hips jump.

"—touch you," vox finally says. "just let me—"

"no," you hiss, low and pitying, and slap his hand away like he's an annoying fly where they hover against your waist. "you don't deserved it after all you put me through"

"c'mon," vox says, the words practically dragged out of his throat loud. to no one. to the you that lives inside him. "you're so—oh fuck—i've had fantasies about this—i hate you, you don't know what it's like, you don't know what you look like—"

"beggars can't be choosers, vox."

"fu-uck," vox cries, trying and failing to grind his hips into the motion when you press your knee harsher into his crotch for a firmer grind. "at least touch my dick! oh, god, touch my dick—it hurts but i'm so fuckin' hard—"

"at some point," you muse absentmindedly, drawing back in a slow glide that sends vox scrabbling, "you're going to realize what the only answer i'm going to give you is."

it doesn't even makes sense, in the context of him listening to you of all people. it should be the other way around, it should be vox making you beg and cry and making you want this. he'd felt you beneath him, once. moving together, pushing toward something fast and hot. would you like touching him the way he likes touching you? yould you want more and more and more like him?

and just like that, vox's hands snaps to the armrests again, clawing and gripping for dear life as his face flush, fizzing over with static.

he buries it in your chest, and he's so grateful you don't shove him off. he feels so good here, like this. god, he wants to smother himself in it. in you. he imagines burying his face against every part of your body, he imagines the weight of you on top of him, your thighs squeezing him, your hands holding on.

your hands your hands your hands.

"aw, sweetheart," a hand lands on his head, petting over the hard casing, and tickles up one of his antennae. it's condescending; it's the firts time you call him that, "i will give it to you, though, you're pretty proficient at humping—it's gonna make me think you're a bit of a slut for me, sir."

( vox knows you're making fun of him, but he also can't help the way it turns him on. fucking condescending. he wants you to call him sweetheart forever. he wants to drown in it. )

"fuck you," vox pants againts your clothed chest. it's not as good, but he's so close that it doesn't matter, hips kicking into the air blatantly and shamelessly. he can't let this go, he can't, he can't— "fuck you, asshole, fuck, fuck, oh, please—fuck—doll—"

"no?" you ask. "you are not?" your voice is quiet, raspy as your dainty hand roughly rubs at his dick print, back and forth, back and forth. you might really kill him. he might die here with you smiling up at him every time he twitches to life underneath your fingertips and he'd die happy.

vox keens, tilting and shaking his head back against the chair frantically. palming him harder and faster, you smooth a finger over the outline of your his leaky tip and watch as precum seeps through material– and earning yourself petulant moans and whines from vox. pretty sounds that just barely escape through gritted teeth. your face is so close—so close, vox wants it—he needs it—

he wants you to be looking at him with more than an unreadable expression but with the same pathetic, maddening hunger he feels for you.

like a hibernating beast waking up ravenous to storm and devouring everything in sight, a mandate lurches to attention inside of vox, beyond logic, beyond self preservation. to make you really look at him. he braces himself with a single hand on your thigh and reaches for the bow tie with the other one, ripping open his shirt. he must look like an animal but there's sweat beaded on his sternum and he wants—

"or are you going to prove me right?"

and vox comes just like that, damp with sweat and gasping with frustration and humping your thigh as you stare down at him, imagining you're straddling his thigh with your arms thrown round his neck. it's not the thought of you spread wide over his slacks that sends him over the edge, but the thought of you looking down at him there to see it. staring, wanting, unable to resist.

it's not a screaming orgasm—not like the one he most certainly would have had on any other circunstances—but it's certainly up there with his best ones.

"fuck," he says, very quietly, so maybe he doesn't say it at all. vox doesn't know because his eyes are closed and his head is thrown back and the blood is pounding in his ears and so it feels like he's drowning.

vox's claws are digging into your thigh like he couldn't stay upright otherwise— his hips won't stop twitching, working back and forth in tiny, minute motions, like he's trying to shake more out or just hump your leg like a dog. there's nothing left—but the phantom of the pressure is still there.

you slide your fingers along his neck before cupping the side of his screen. then, before he can recover enough to start talking again, you lean forward and press a brief kiss against the corner of his screen.

"you're such a fucking tease," he makes a gutted sound, though there's no real venom behind it. vox squirms and writhes in place, squint his eyes halfway open and meet your gaze as he finally shudders to completion.

you pull back before he can chase it.

one smooth movement and you're off his lap, straightening to your full height. your clothes are mostly intact save for the shallow scratches dragged across your trousers where his claws had caught. beneath them, a darker patch stains the fabric slightly from his own fluids, which makes vox's stomach lurch so powerfully he whites out for a second, vision nothing but static.

"velvette wants the reports finalized tonight," you say calmly, reaching for your tablet atop the desk. vox is still trying to process the fact that you're talking about work.

"what—" vox coughs once, voice rough and wrecked. "you're just gonna—"

"hm."

"after that?"

"you finished, didn't you?" vox groans dramatically, throwing his head back against the chair as you step around the desk, "i'll tell ethan to bring you a change of clothes," you add.

vox hates how quickly panic sparks in his chest at the sight of you leaving. after months of wanting and wanting and wanting, now that he's finally had a taste of your attention, the thought of losing it again feels unbearable.

"you're seriously leaving?" he blurts before he can stop himself.

you pause by the door. you look at him properly then, and vox doesn't dwell in the way his entire body immediately perks up under the attention like a dog.

"yes, vox." that small smile appears again. vox swears his nonexistent heart stutters. "and next time you want my attention, try asking normally first."

the door slides shut behind you.

and vox stays there alone in the silence, slumped in his chair with your warmth still lingering against him and that stupid little forehead kiss looping through his mind like corrupted footage.

next time he will make sure to get revenge

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.

[fragileza]

any thoughts on val with reader who's into being kidnapped? with the way you write for all the other characters i c r a v e to see what masterpiece can you make for him <3

hii sweet nonnie ♡!! thank you for your kind words, hopefully i didn’t misinterpret your request! ❥ cw. nsfw. female reader :: kidnapping :: insolation :: manipulation :: corruption :: toxic relationship.

on paper, you hit a gold mine: the man everyone wants, a life of luxury at your fingertips, no need for effort, no need for a single thought in that empty head of yours. the jackpot—that's what everyone says, what valentino says, so it's not hard for you to convince yourself it's true, and how could you ever disagree with him?

it's not like you particularly care, and maybe there's something wrong with you, but valentino takes care of you, and he does it far better than anyone else could— if you don't think too hard about it. it's the absolute truth. he keeps you safe, buys you pretty outfits, and fixes that hot feeling between your legs. you don't have any comparison but both of you are certain that no one could make your needy cunt feel as good as valentino.

"you gonna be good for me, baby?" valentino's hand taps under your chin until you finally meet his red gaze. "gonna be a good girl while i'm gone, yeah?"

"yes, valentino." your shaky voice undercuts any confidence in the two words but it's enough for valentino. in fact, this is how he likes you best.

valentino can admit it. he likes dumb, submissive girls, dependent girls. he likes a girl who clings to his arm and asks his opinion, a girl who can't seem to do anything on her own. he loves to find a woman with promise and potential, loves to snag her right at her start, loves to break her down until she's a clingy, stammery, stupid mess.

for a night. or a week. maybe a month if they're lucky. valentino doesn't want to utterly ruin someone, just carve his name shallow and hidden in the recesses of her brain.

( "please," you gasp. "please touch me."

the kiss at the crease of your hip only feeds your need. you're beautiful like this: teased to near-insanity as valentino licks and bites and sucks at the skin of your thighs, never going where you need it most. it doesn't matter, you'll get what you deserve when he deems you worthy. and not a second sooner.

"yeah? touch you?" warm hands run from your hips to your knees and back the way they came. "where do you want me, baby? use your words."

you still have trouble begging for valentino's cock but you always cave, if only for the ecstasy he provides. he thinks it's cute. you let him use you while he scrolled on his phone, not paying any attention to your trembling body, save for a single hand between your legs. the day before, you warmed his cock, sat on him for hours while you clenched mindlessly and drooled on his neck. only because he said so.

you allow him to commit depraved acts against you, on you, inside you, but you stumble over a one-syllable word. it's the only part of yourself you can't seem to drop.

"that's alright, baby. i'll give you what you want," he chuckles against your thigh. he likes to take his time when he ruins you, running kisses up her body with no inch of skin untouched. even as he lines himself with your entrance, he goes slow, pushing in bit by bit so you can revel in the stretch.

"val—feels, feels good," you gasp. don't worry, he knows. but he still asks.

"aw, princesa, look at you. can you say anything right now? can you even think?" valentino drives the rest of his length into you in one harsh thrust. and, like every time, you fall apart. you're too cute for words, just a complete idiot the second he sinks his cock into your aching heat. and he makes sure to remind you everytime."fuck, only good for taking me. don't need anything or anyone else. just this."

and, like with everything valentino says, all you can do is agree. )

"that's what I like to hear." he presses a quick peck to your lips, smiles when he feels the tightness of your mouth. "i'll be back soon, babe. don't get into any trouble while i'm gone."

no job, no friends. that's how you started and that's how you ended. but at least you have valentino.

sometimes you wonder what you'd be like if he hadn't shown up. probably working a desk job with your panties in a twist at a 2% raise. this is better. you're safe and finally able to be who you were always meant to be. anyone could see that you're better like this.

maybe you were always meant to be like this. valentino certainly thinks so.

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised ﾉ masterlist

[fragileza]

Not the Radiostatic theme/j 😭

love these idiots so much

[fragileza]

miss emma you're my number 1 smut writer. the way you depict and describe the feelings it's just amazing xoxo. 🫶🏻

oh you are adorable your fAVOURITE?? 🥹🥹🫵 ENOUGH. THANK YOU SO MUCH NONNIE IM SO SO HONOURED TO BE UR FAV ++ thank you for being here!! <333✨💕

[fragileza]

. 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ ♡ 𖥻 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑫𝑶𝑶 𝑾𝑶𝑷 : you should have know better than to mess with alastor, but you're selfish and greedy, and you don't want to stop. alastor x vox's daugther ! reader ﾉ masterlist

˖ ࣪૮₍ cw ᝰ.ᐟ✧ minors dni :: female bodied reader :: pre-canon / pre-alastor & vox fallout :: father's best friend ! alastor :: uneven power dynamics :: non-specific age gap :: sub / dom undertones :: marking :: orgasm denial :: semi-public sex :: humiliation kink :: fingering :: p in v :: reader is downbad :: some plot if you really squint ა ࣪˖

you have this gut-wrenching feeling that your dad is going to kill you if he ever found out.

"are you mad at me?"

too much of a good thing. now you stand between alastor's body and the private bathroom door. it's really a single-person occupancy and it makes you feel more uneasy, off-center. up close, you think of kissing his smile into something softer if you let yourself give him what he wants, rather than what he needs.

"well," he says, the static crackling beneath his voice crawls pleasantly under your skin. "that depends. should i be?"

you try to think of a way to explain yourself but the words come up empty. too much of a good thing—it's supposed to be a gathering for overlords in carmilla's own halls, you shouldn't be there in the first place. not like it matters, now.

chewing your lip, you go doe-eyed. try to suck up to him to see if he'll yield.

"i wasn't trying to annoy you," you mutter, albeit quietly.

"no?" alastor's brows lift. "could've fooled me."

there is something unbearable about the way alastor looks at you sometimes.—focused entirely on you, instead of the meeting, instead of the other overlords, instead of your father. like he sees every humiliating thought crossing your mind and chooses to indulge on each one.

( you wonder if that's what your dad likes about him too )

"you were being troublesome tonight. distracting me during business? in front of your father, no less," he says. his eyes narrow with amusement. "one would think you wanted attention."

alastor leans down until his nose nudges against your jaw, inhaling the scent of your skin and perfume. his teeth nip at your pulse point, sucking a hickey into it hard. you lean back against the door, tilting your chin up to give him room.

"i mean," you swallow the blood pooling in your mouth and try not to keen like an animal, "it worked, didn't it?"

he sighs like he's exasperated as he kisses down the column of your throat. you hate how much you enjoy getting under alastor's skin. more accurately—you hate how much you enjoy the moments where it seems like you actually can.

he's slow even though he doesn't bother in removing your top completely, just enogh to show skin— you know by now that he doesn't touch you more than he has to, so instead alastor takes one bud between his incisors and tugs gently, flicking against the sensitive skin over the fabric until you gasp.

"honestly," alastor whispers against your skin. you feel your legs almost give out. a trail of arousal drips down between your thighs, reaches past even the edge of the dress. "you and vox are remarkably alike,"

you frown immediately. "i'm not like my dad."

alastor hums, like he's entertaining a child trying to lie badly. "both of you desperately crave attention and become insufferable when ignored. the resemblance is rather striking."

"that's not—"

alastor decides to print another hickey onto you in that moment. a few on your breasts, on your sternum, on your navel. in places they don't need to be. you feel a bite mark on your tits that makes your jaw fall open. alastor makes sure to lap at your wounds each time he leaves them.

"and neither of you knows when to quit."

shaky legs, shame slanting your neck. you can't argue with alastor even if you wanted to. he always sounds composed, perfectly entertained, while you feel every reaction written plainly across your face for him to inspect. you are so in love with him that you notice all of this, take a snapshot in your head, lock it up behind your ribs to study later.

"maybe i like the attention."

"and here i thought that picturebox spoiled you." his smile softens by a fraction at whatever expression crosses your face.

you whimper. "he barely notices when i'm there."

alastor laughs outright as he puts a hand between your thighs after a while of biting, your dress riding up until it's bunched at your waist. his fingers press against the soaked lace of your panties, middle finger padding against your clit over the material. you inhale soft, breaking off into a gasp when you feel him push against you harder. you hold on his arm.

"oh, that explains everything." the patronizing warmth in his tone makes your chest ache. he taps your cheek twice with his other hand, condescendingly affectionate. "you poor thing."

you glare at him, ashamed by how gentle that sounds coming from him of all people. you can never tell what's real with him. whether he likes this because it entertains him, because it flatters his ego, or simply because he enjoys seeing you unravel so easily beneath his attention.

you hold onto alastors forearms, legs trembling as your calves brace— the minimal space making it hard to stand. you feel alastors fingers at your entrance. his middle finger slips inside of your pussy with ease, and you press your face into his shoulder, leaning into him for support while he stretches you open.

he works himself inside of you slowly but still impatiently. eagerly searching for your sweet spot and finding it easily. his fingers are thinner, but long— reach deeper than you could on your own. he fucks himself into you down to the knuckle, humming as you clench down around the digit in arousal.

"goodness, you truly did inherit his worst habits, didn't you?" his voice makes the room feel hot. a chill crawls up your spine. "neediness runs in the family, apparently."

"no, no. i'm not—"

"mm." he cuts you off gently, in that awful, honeyed way of his. "don't fib to me, darling. it's unbecoming."

alastor curls fingers into your gspot, touching you deeply before he adds another finger and stretches you out as he scissors them. he gives you little time to adjust, not as much as he would on another day. thinking of the slight ache only arouses you further.

"i said i'm not—needy," you know you are, right now especially, it feels like the only thing that'll calm you down. your core is throbbing, hips rutting into the air and chasing friction.

alastor works you open until your pussy grows wetter, stickier from arousal—the sound filthy as he pumps them in and out of you with no intent other then working you up. his name passes your lips as a whine this time, a plea as your body tenses up, and then he suddenly stops.

"then why are you here?"

because he looked at you once. because he keeps looking at you. because every time he praises you it feels like sunlight, and every time he cuts you down you spend days thinking about it afterward. you say none of that.

you bite down on your lip trying to hold it in. you feel so fucking empty. it's awful. you're so wet and slick and needy, but you're so, so empty. something deep in your core is burning molten, your legs trembling. you want more then this. your body is begging for it.

you mutter weakly, "please,"

alastor's smile grows knowingly anyway. "thought so."

you look at him, lips drawn into a pout. you imagine him in long, sticky afternoons that belong to some universe where making alastor feel good is the same as being good to him. too bad you're stuck in this universe—the one where it would be nicest to walk out on him. never see him again.

( you're selfish, though, so you don't disappear. you remain, but only at a distance, even though it's his least favorite place to keep you. )

alastor wordlessly pulls away from you, spinning you around effortlessly until you're facing the door and pressing your weight against it. it doesn't take long before you hear the sound of a zipper, followed by something hard heavy pressed against your ass. alastor puts his hand on top of yours, interlocking your fingers. his other hand holds onto your hips, pulling you.

"i had hoped you possessed at least a shred of shame." he tsks quietly. "what am i going to do with you, hm?"

your head feels hazy at his tone of voice. half-way between amusement and mocking. "w-wait—"

“none of that. you took me so well last time, i'm sure you can do it again.”

alastor eases his cock into you without any warning. you find your waist going weak— only being held up by him as he stretches your cunt, tight hole yielding to him easily, familiar with the shape and taste of it. you whine as you push yourself onto him further, itching to take him completely— aching from somewhere deep.

a moan is punched out of your lungs. satisfaction and pleasure makes a mess of your nerves, your thighs trembling from effort as you lean on the door for support. he's not even all the way in, but you're sensitive - so worked up youhave to make effort to breathe around the pleasure.

"you ought to be more careful, darling. someone might take advantage of all this attention-seeking behavior," he says softly. he fucks into you deeper in one hard thrust, nearly dropping you to your knees. his name comes out like a cry, "but you wouldn't mind that much, would you?"

you moan his name feeling especially helpless to it. your mind feels completely blank, you're barely able to respond to his taunting. all you can feel is white-hot pleasure, heart pounding. the euphoric drag of the head through silken walls, the sticky warmth and skin on skin. how close he is, how deep. your voice no longer something you can control.

"you're being so loud now. do you suppose dear vox would think if he hears his little girl like this?" alastor presses. you feel your pussy tighten at the thought. anyone could walk by and hear exactly how you sound sheathed on his cock. the desperation in your voice. "embarrassed? oh, perhaps heartbroken."

that's the terrible part, isn't it. your father laughs with him. invites him into your home. talks about him with that sharp-edged admiration. you've caught the lingering looks before, the strange tension. and meanwhile you're here.

( something borrowed. something stolen. )

you feel incoherent. "he'd be furious,"

"mm. likely homicidal," his hand comes around your throat, the other around your waist as fingers brush against your clit. "i'll make up for it, you are much prettier when you stop trying so hard to misbehave, after all," he punctuates, bottoming out completely. your mind feels like it's on the precipice of breaking, hung over the knifes edge of pleasure.

your body jolts at the touch. loud moans echoing in your room as alastor voice brushes your ear, breath tickling your skin.

"allie, close, getting close, gonna cum—"

"where the hell did she go?"

your entire body tenses. from down the hall, muffled voices drone on—you believe zestial is talking, and of course, the occasional buzz of vox's irritated voice bleeding through the walls. close enough to hear if either of you raised your voice. but not enough to stop the awful little flutter in your stomach.

"oh dear," he murmurs, and he sounds delighted by it. "sounds as though daddy's looking for you."

but alastor doesn't stop. the hand on your throat remains steady as his fingers rub your clit. his teeth are sunk into your shoulder, leaving a bite deep enough to sting as your vision starts to blur out. bleary and needy.

alastor sounds wrecked despite himself. his breath tickles your shoulder blade, mouth pressing hot kisses up the side of your neck.

"shall i let you go?" alastor iterates, so aggravating.

asshole. "no."

following him is easy. you know how to wether the terrible mechanism, how to endure the tug of the fishhook he has in your guts without ever tripping over the line and swallowing him whole. you and alastor exist somewhere between these two categories: side by side, but not together. not quite.

you bite your tongue as alastor thrusts his hips again. you rock with the gesture, pure euphoria causing you to tremble. the knot in your belly unwinds as you repeat yourself frantically. getting closer and closer, your whole body broken out into tremors. your shoulders are shaking.

it feels impossibly good. he focuses all of his energy into fucking you hard. deep and fast, tip kissing your cervix on each pass with a perfect curve. you choke a little on your moans, warmth flushing down your chest as you hold on.

he's not slow but not fast, just perfect - the head of his cock rubbing against the spot inside of you that makes you see heaven. it feels like you can't stop cumming, not sure where he ends and you start.

"mm," he hums. "you truly are vox's daughter."

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised ﾉ masterlist

[fragileza]

Girllll your writing is something else and has me feeling all sorts. Do you have anything for Alastor with a masochist reader?? I remember reading something similar and If you have anything about it??💕

do you think he'll be the exact opposite? like, of course he knows you want to hurt and to be hurt, but what's the fun in giving you what you want if you're going to get off on the pain anyway? that won't do.

just thinking. all you want is to make him tick. to you the threat of punishment is not a fear but a thrill. you want him to push you until you break but alastor just won't. instead he lays gentle hands on you and coax you out of your attitude, even if you're insatiable, disobeying him, but he just doesn't get angry.

look at him; you think he's got the energy to tame you? no. he sets you on his lap and watches you get yourself off. won't even move, won't help you. "perhaps you should control yourself better, then" he cups his hand around the back of your neck, watches you shudder in his grasp. “you only have yourself to blame for behaving like an animal.”

“‘m sorry,” you whine, demanding even as you squirms helplessly. you don't achieve anything except straining against alastor’s arms. “please make it better...”

“i’m afraid there’s nothing i can do!” alastor just laughs. “do you want to make it better or to make it hurt?”

you want more—maybe that's the real problem. you want him to bite and scratch you raw. you want him to fit himself in you, mould you to his shape and split you open, put you out of this fucking misery. but he won’t.

“both—” you gasp. you try to roll your hips with a moan and an arch of your back, failing to please yourself without further aid.

“my dear, i can’t do everything for you. pick one.” he says, and you know he is being a jerk.

he laughs again, this time definitely at you, moving his head with certain disappointment. alastor snaps his hips, forcing his erection to settle amidst your folds, the wetness that enveloped the sensitive flesh of his tip causing you to cry with sheer desire.

fuck. you're so fucked and he’s so fucking soft. alastor smiles through your poison spit, talks you off your bitter attitude. tells you how to move, gently moves your hands to leverage on his chest. he gives you everything and nothing at the same time, filling your ears with such sickly sweet condescension while not budging an inch. 

you are no better than a untrained mutt, just begging for attention, for scraps."see? i knew you could be good for me." oh my god it’s humiliating, the way he coos and croons at you, on the verge of tears just wanting to fucked so hard you break.

the anger in your chest fizzles into not wanting to disappoint him. you start to cling on to his every word, gasping into his mouth. “i hate you,” you’re begging and you don’t know what for.

“you don’t mean that,” he says, soft against the nape of your neck, the shell of your ear. he grips your hips to guide the grinding of his cock. “do you, sweetheart?”  

you think you do, when he's like this. it makes you so fucking mad. you’d whine so hard for him to just break you but all he does is give you kindness. he's cruel, crueller than mean alastor because at least when he's being mean he gives you what you want, but like this alastor makes sure to break the brat in you forever.

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised ﾉ masterlist

[fragileza]

bro you are the best alastor writer of all time you are the new era shakespeare holy shit this is peak oh my god thanks for existing bro made my week good lord peak content right here never die

hello!!!!!! stop this is such a high praise </3 thank you very much for stopping by to tell me this, i am so glad to hear it 🥹💕 i’m so pleased to hear that you’re enjoying my page so much 🌸✨️

[fragileza]

Hi the soft dom lucifer content is makin me short circuit. Unrelated, but may i suggest virgin reader with vox? 👀 I love your scummy vox and I just know this man is a cherry chaser who would get off on a poor virgin reader who doesn't know a damn thing so someone takes advantage of that and corrupts her <3 

idk just tit for tat…. (i’m not sure if any of this made sense but i just had to share with you) >_<

oh, thank you nonnie ♡ similar post here !

cherry chaser vox who gives you so much more attention when you tell him you've never really been with anyone—never been properly kissed, never let anyone close in that way. and that man goes wild.

he wants to break you, needs to be the first one to make you feel that way. so when he gets tired of waiting he brings it up, surrounded by empty glasses of wine and you, a little tipsy but still in good enough shape to stay awake. he invited you for dinner that night, some excuse to get you into his penthouse, and you lap it up like a dog.

you don't think he's making a move until his claws are on your lower back, circling mindlessly as he pulls you closer to him. and you're kinda smiley and dopey, whispering, "w-what're you doin', vox?" and he looks at you with a predatory smile, like a vulture and his prey. he kisses you and you gasp, but you can't pull away by the sheer force of his hand on your back. so you melt into it.

"think you're so pretty," he murmurs, hands roughly grabbing at your clothes. "too pretty to be a virgin. you're tellin' me, you go 'round lookin' like that 'nd no one's fucked you brainless?"

you flush at his words, your stuttering reply fizzling on your tongue as he shoves your shirt down. you keen into him, whining, "no, i- i've never- i don't—" but he ignores it until you take him by the shoulders and push him away, telling him, "i don't know—"

but he looks at you with the softest eyes his screen can convey. "just wanna make you feel good," he slowly presses himself against you, tongue by your ear. "wanna give it to you, make it feel real nice your first time. gonna let me?" and your composure wavers at his voice, and you let him.

he has you pressed into the mattress, plush and silky and so soft, but it's all lost to you when he pushes into you for the first time. he hooks his arm under your knee, angling himself deep into your cunt, stretching and stretching. your mouth is agape with pain, eyes squeezed shut as your fists curl into the sheets, into his back. "vox, vox fuck," you're gasping, and he's kissing you, swallowing your cries.

"doin' so well f'me, dollface," he muses, glancing down where you two are connected. "fuck- so fuckin' tight—" he looks at you, the pleasure washed over your face as you adjust to his size, the thrill of seeing your eyes flash in fear and adoration. your sweet whines that melt in his system, make his screen shutter. "wanted this for so long, you know? thought i was nev'r— fuck— never gonna get it, but god, you're a dream, baby," he babbles, fucking in and out of you at a pace that has you reeling. "jus' gotta lie there and take it, yes?"

and you just take it, let him slide in and out of you, brushing your cervix with every bruising thrust, but you like it. his attention and touch.

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised ﾉ masterlist

[aaltruistor]

I just couldn't stop thinking about this specific request written by fragileza ( I LOOVE their writings, follow them!! ) and I had to, somehow, draw what I had in mind. Let's say that I did another watermelon challenge but with zero censorship this time— I went over my limits with this. ૮꒰ྀིᴗ͈ ˕ ᴗ͈ ྀི꒱ა 🖤

!! SPICE UNDER THE CUT !!

Censoring the goodies because I'm scared of tumblr bonking me @/////@ ,,,, You can find the uncensored version over my Bluesky 🖤

[fragileza]

^^^ real footage of me seeing this ✨️✨️ OU MY GOSHHHHHH T_____T NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME FOR OPENING THE DASH SOBSOB !!!!!!!! 💕💖💕✨💖✨💖💕💖✨💖💕 TYSM FOR BLESSING MY EYEBALLS WITH THIS CUTIEFUL ART !!!

[fragileza]

thank you 4 blessing the lucifer fans 💓 rare to see him written so GOOD jfhshdjabsja

im begging you write more dark! lucifer (if you want)...it does things the way you write him afshdhshd (pretty pretty please)

(also i've like never requested anything b4 sorry if it's awkward 😭 lots of love for u!)

hello dear nonnie!! ✨ there's nothing to apologize for, i'm happy to have you here🤍

thank you so much for such kind words!! i’m always pleased to hear that for people who love the little ficlets i post for luci sobsob 😭🌸

as for your request, i don't recall writing anything about dark! lucifer, unless you meant dominant lucifer? which i'll totally do more in the future!🫶🏻

i hope you have an incredible day/night nonnie!! thank you, again <3💕

[fragileza]

Hello!!! Just wanted to pop in and say that YOUR WRITING IS INCREDIBLE and your characterizations are terrifyingly accurate...I'm hooked grr arggg nomnomnom eating your writing for educational purposes/silly

If you are open for requests, I absolutely adore the way you write our boy Luci as a bit more dominant. I would platonically kill for a fic where he helps a very innocent, terrified reader through her first time (but then gets a bit more devilish towards the end 😈)...spiced with whatever seasonings you think would fit 😏

Wishing you the best of blessings from the writing gods 💓

. 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ ♡ 𖥻 𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑩𝑶𝑿 : this part of sex always scares you, lucky you lucifer is good to you, maybe a little too much. lucifer x female reader.

˖ ࣪૮₍ cw ᝰ.ᐟ✧ minors dni :: female bodied reader :: soft dom ! lucifer :: reader is inexperienced & shy-ish :: virginity loss :: cunnilingus :: fingering :: dumbification :: praise :: multiple orgasm :: p in v :: a little bit of spit ა ࣪˖

notes : as someone who struggles a lot with getting their personalities right (esp lucifer), this means a lot to me :(( ♡ thank you for the request and your kind words!! hopefully it meets your expectations anon 🌸✨️

there’s something about your expression and how you’ve folded over yourself that makes lucifer want to ruin you completely.   he knows he can. he knows you’d look good like that. he has many useless, unending thoughts such as these until something in him boils over.

lucifer draws his knuckle over the seam of your cunt, and you gasp, thighs closing around his hand. he is quickly to hush your worry, your shyness, and kisses the base of your throat, then your jaw bone.

"i know, honey, i know." he hums, a lacing of sweetness in his voice that you can feel on the sides of your tongue. "i'll take good care of you."

you whole body wracks with a shudder, nodding your head. yes, you know he will, you know— it doesn’t stop your stomach to tie itself in knots when lucifer pulls his lips down further and further.

his fingers are delicate as they push your shirt over your tits, squeezing them with appreciative hands. kissing at your collarbones, your sternum, the dips and underneath side of your breasts as your breathing so heavily they rise and fall in front of him, and lucifer fondles them too for good measure.

"lucifer," you whine, and he laughs.  

"shh, leave the thinking to me, 'kai?" 

you make a garbled sound that makes lucifer laugh again.

he trails down from base of your chest down the expanse of your tummy. he kisses your navel reverently until lucifer parts your legs with a gentle hand.

lucifer takes a beat to admire you. he uses his thumb to draw you open, spreading your pussy open wide until everything is visible. your clit twtiches from the sudden attention, the admiration. the genuine love in his gaze as he stares down gives you grief like no other.  

"a pretty pussy from a pretty girl, hm?"

you crinkle your nose and resist the urge to close your legs. his hands sink into your hips, fingers gripping onto your skin as he sinks his face down between your legs. you tense, half out of your mind already.

"wait, ‘s embarrassing, don’t wanna..." trying to paw it off with whatever braincells you can string together but lucifer breath is hot against your sensitive pussy— and then you feel it: lucifer's split-tongue pressing against your clit.

your whole body breaks down, like one white hot flash of heat, every inch of your skin lights up. you moan so loud it makes your throat hurt from strain, bordering on a scream.

lucifer's mouth feels so fucking hot. his tongue moves through you, eager to taste. before he focuses his attention, he flattens his tongue to taste all of you, pushing it into your hole, over and over until there’s nothing else. the tip of his tongue traces around the outside of your clit, precise and angular as his free hand tries to hold your hips down, but he finds it hard to fight against the way you're bucking up against his mouth so vigorously.

lucifer thinks he could die like this, savoring the stretch. your wet hole learning to accept the warm length of his tongue as it slides into you, soft enough not to send your pelvic floor clenching shut. he sucks on your clit gently, causing your knees to push together, squeezing his head between the fat of your thighs, and he swears his cock is twitching harder than it has all night.

"lu-luci, w-wait, feels funny—!" but he doesn't stop, and you don’t know what it is, but—fuck, you want it so bad you can’t help yourself. you curl your fingers into his hair and push his head into your clit, desperately searching for whatever will fix the feeling.

"it's gonna feel good, i promise," lucifer moans in reply. the sound comes deep from his chest like he’s purring, so pleased with how you lean on him. ask for him to kiss it better. "let go, sweetheart, do it for me."

your whole body jolts when lucifer’s finds the right spot. he laps at your cunt eagerly, fingers pressed into the fat of your hips. lucifer holds you horribly still as he eats you out until you are hardly able to catch your breath as the tight coil in your lower stomach snaps viciously before you can wrap your head around it. your fingers clutch aimlessly at the bedsheets, body going slack as the first weak wave of pleasure falls over you.  

when he emerges from your thighs, he looks absolutely demolished. his hair is a mess of golden strands, some sticking up from the way you've pulled and tugged on his hair, and some plastered to his face. lucifer is quick to pull away and rests his forehead against you.

"what a good girl, i knew you could do it for me," his palm cups your face, thumb brushing away some of your tears. he coos at you sympathetically, leans down to kiss all over your face. it relaxes you, a brief respite of tenderness amidst feeling like you’re falling apart completely.

he’s grinning, delighted. you look back at him as your arms go around his neck, urging him to lean in some more.

you can feel him throb against the apex of your thigh, but even then, he doesn’t seem to pay any mind, more focused in pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss— and then you jolt when you feel his hand over your sensitive and swollen clit.

"so sensitive," he drawls, voice warm with mirth alongside your dulcet cries. "can we do one, dove? just one again?"

"uh-uhu," you don't even know if you're speaking, if your mouth is falling open and language is spilling out or if you're just panting and mewling beneath his touch. "yes, yes, want you—"

( lucifer loves that about you to. loves being wrapped around your finger or tugged by your leash— loves that you demand things of him. he finds it a privilege to give it to you. )

he hums with approval, the thrum of it filling your chest, as he delicately slots his middle finger into you. it's thicker than you expected and stretches you just a little more- but that extra millimeter makes a notable difference in your panic as you feel the muscles in your thighs begin to tense.

"shh, shh, it's okay," he consoles, as if feeling your anxiety. which, considering how you're beginning to clench around his finger, he just might. he kisses your temple  and then your cheekbone. "just breathe, sweetheart. like this."

you try and each breath flutters through you, raising your hairs to a point of overstimulation. you clench around him again, but sweetly this time. beckoningly. it's— a lot. all of it is. you like that it is.

he can tell you're ready for more when you start to wiggle your hips. when you spread you legs wider and tilt your pelvis up- presenting yourself to him like an animal in heat, so he starts moving the finger inside you gently, rocking in minute movements until you're soft and keening in his arms.

lucifer circles your clit with this thumb before pressing down on it sharply- meanly. it fills your body with electricity and you squeal as he moans and pants alongside you.

"you're being too good for me," he praises. "how about one more, hm? think you can do that for me?"

you whimper and nod your head. unfortunately, in the moment it takes him to line up his third finger your body seems to have second thoughts. the very tip of his pointer presses into you and the tiniest pinch causes all sensation in you to go cold and sharp.

lucifer notices immediately and changes course. he curls his forefinger and rests it flat on the swollen nub of your clit and presses down. despite your body's attempt to shut down, pleasure zings through you. 

"such a skittish thing," he teases, lighthearted in a way that soothes any sense of embarrassment or self consciousness from you. "don't worry, you can take all the time you need."

lucifer smiles, somewhere between sweet, adoring, and incredibly arrogant. he bends down quickly, presses a kiss to your mouth that you chase. coos at you before kissing you once more, twice more for good measure. you’re so high this feels unbelievable.  

your back arches as lucifer pushes himself deeper, middle fingers down the knuckle. it feels intrusive, in a good way. he doesn't bother with thrusting and instead gives you time to savor the stretch of him.

fuck—fuck, how much bigger would his cock feel than this? is that why he's taking his time preparing you? you try to picture it; the way he dribbles with precum, always so leaky and spilling as it presses against your hole just begging to slide inside-

"what are you thinking about, honey?" he asks, his tone teasing. he rotates his wrist just so his thumb can press against your clit. pinching it gently and making you mewl. "me? my hands? my mouth?"

he kisses your ear and licks along the curve.

"my cock?"

lucifer lets out a breathless little laugh as you squeeze around him.

"think about it as much as you want," he says and gently, so gently, crooks his fingers inside of you against a place that makes it impossible for you to think straight. "it's all yours, you know that?."

then, at the same time, lucifer tongue lolls out of his mouth just enough that one dollop of drool trickles out over the tip of it—rolls down the length—and falls down onto you until the heat of it engulfs your clit.

you spasm. it happens so quickly, so rapidly. lucifer barely has to move his fingers now. a few strokes of them against your gspot, his tongue sucking softly on your clit  - and you’re gone. your vision blurs out as an orgasm wracks through your body all at once, every muscle taut like a bowstring. you cum hard, and intense.

lucifer moves his pace steadily, unhurried, constant. Gives it to you exactly how you need without hurrying you forward. Steady and calm, but relentless. over and over, lucifer continues to fingerfuck you open. mouth and tongue in tandem wringing orgasms from you like it’s easy.

you gasp. "oh, w-wait, wai—, please, please—"

lucifer stops when you can’t find anymore words. you whine at the loss of contact, but in the same breath - you’re relieved, not sure how much more of it you could possibly handle. lucifer moves his face away from your cunt so he can reach your fumbling hand and lace fingers together, squeezing it gently.

"i’ve got you. you’re doing so well. i’m here." he says, a tinge cruel. taking satisfaction in the way you cant your hips back into him and spread your legs wider. "what do you want, sweetheart?"

"you, inside me," you babble, out of your mind. tears spring, already damp from sweat, fat tears form at your lashes before spilling down your cheeks. you need him.

"ooh, greedy girl," he murmurs. he grinds the hard shape of his cock against your thigh. you tremble, lust making your mind go blank. "you want to feel me right here?"

a desperate and whimpering sigh fills the air as lucifer goes to adjust your thigh around his hip. a warm, gooey pressure burns against your entrance, his hips jutting forward to run his cock through the length of your slit – the sensations is overwhelming and you can faintly hear him encouraging you atop it all.

"y-yeah," you whine, looking up at lucifer through tear clumped lashes. 

his tip sneakily slide in without fuss during the sharp twang of sensation, gradually filling you inch by inch until you physically feel swole just from the tip. you whine as the realization that he's pressing his girth against your ridges causes a low current of anxiety to peak.

"it doesn't hurt," he croons, and kisses your jawline again "fuck— you didn't even feel it, dove. see? it's nice isn't it— feeling a little more full inside?"

at his words, the tightness in you eases. lucifer's right. you hadn't noticed. and the stretch, it doesn't pinch even if you experience the kind of fullness that is hard to ignore, a sight to behold. you wiggle your hips to adjust to the sensation.

lucifer fucks you half way down his length all whilst caging you in– he doesn’t bottom out yet, only thrusts shallowly, letting the sweltersome head of his cock nudge your ribbed walls. he doesn't bother with thrusting either and instead gives you time to savor the stretch of him.

"you've been so brave for me, let me handle the rest, dove." he kisses your temple and go completely limp against him as you let out a heavy breath.

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.

[fragileza]

umm..... thoughts on mean Alastor edging you until you cry and then ruining your orgasm?

already did something similar here and kinda here ! but i'm always happy to deliver more <3

alastor it's always so fucking mean about it. keeping you pent up for days at a time. giving you the most chaste touches and fleeting kisses, no matter how much you cry. even if he does go anywhere near your cunt, he’d probably just give your thighs a slap for goods measure. 

after all, he’s not here to satisfy someone’s horny fantasies. if you aren’t going to give a good showing—if you're not going to make alastor want this—then alastor has no reason to bother engaging in this farce of an act, does he. he knows what he wants, so perhaps you would benefit from an example.

this only gives him the opportunity to just be meaner, naturally.

curls his fingers in you just right, nips at your inner thighs without giving you a hint of completion. if you beg really pretty and sweet for him, he’ll spit on your clit, maybe. he’ll call you a filthy and desperate while he does, but you’re already so out of it that you hardly care. the chill of the drool is enough stimulation to have your pussy fluttering around his fingers. 

he’ll keep up this dance for as long as he can stand, barely giving you anything at all until you start to crack, then just another morsel to keep you going. when you start hiccuping sobs between pleads, he just gets meaner.

and when you’re just at your peak, just getting over the edge, he’s pulling away, laying a few quick slaps to your beared cunt because why the fuck not! it’s not like you deserve to come, not with what a glutton you’ve been.

you arch, shrieking and on the edges of panic. alastor is kind enough to pin your hips down as they rut against the air, against nothing, because he sure as hell isn’t giving you any more than he already has. 

“oh dear, seems like it wasn’t enough for you” alastor laughs, patting your hip with some false sympathy. “that’s quite fine. we’ll try again. you can wait that long, can’t you?”

© fragileza. no plagiarism or ai training authorised ﾉ masterlist

[fragileza]

I love love love how you write alastor omg you’re amazing 😭❤️

HI NONNIE !! I AM SO PLEASED YOU LIKE MY ALASTOR CHARACTERISATION 🤍 he is so interesting to write, i hope i will get to provide even more for you in the future <3 sending lots of love! ✨