Kintober Day Nine: Tentacles
Summary: Alastor found you laughable. A sinner trying to be redeemed, what a silly thought. Only, maybe your saint-like nature could rub off on him. Or maybe, he could drag you back down to the depths of sin by his hands. Warnings: Tentacle use, teasing, suspension, slight mention of breeding and animal instincts, cunnilingus, PLOT WITH YOUR PORN (honestly, I give up on trying to not write plot anymore. Have some story with your smut), degradation sub/dom dynamics, possessiveness, etc. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Kinktober Masterlist
You were the most recent addition to the regulars of the Hazbin Hotel, and by recent, I mean you were the first person in maybe a full year to grace the doors and decide to stay for a shot at redemption. Actively participating in Charlie’s exercises, helping Nifty with cleaning, listening to Angel Dust about whatever new development occurred in his life, and helping Husk with his addiction. You were practically an angel, at least by Hell’s standards.
All of which, Alastor found absolutely laughable. Such a poor, sweet, soul trying to get into Heaven? Don’t make him giggle. The notion that anyone could redeem themselves from their present condition was never something that appealed to Alastor, and it appealed to him even less when it came to you. Innocent, naive, you. Following his coat tails, trying to be his friend. Ugh. You had barely been there for a few months and you were already “making vast improvements” according to the princess. So Alastor did what he did best when it came to things he deplored, he degraded you with thinly veiled compliments.
He’d grin that too-wide grin when you spoke about hope or redemption, that radio static laugh crackling in the air, as if your words were the punchline to some great cosmic joke. He’d tease you endlessly, calling you “little saint” or “our precious charity case” whenever you’d help someone or refuse to curse. You’d roll your eyes, sometimes even throw a towel at him when you caught him loitering in the kitchen just to watch you work; which, of course, only made him laugh harder. Even your push back to his insults was positively adorable! Could you be more amusing?
But you didn’t back down. Not once. You didn’t snap at him, didn’t retreat like most did under that ever-cheerful cruelty of his. You’d simply smile that maddeningly patient smile and keep going. It confused him. Infuriated him, even.
“You can mock me all you want, Alastor, but I think even you can change if you tried.”
“I was a serial killer, my dear!”
He told himself he only stuck around you to see when you’d break. When that hope would shrivel and die like it always did down here. He was waiting for it. Waiting for you to crumple and give up and go back to your sad afterlife. But weeks turned to months, and it never happened.
So, somewhere along the line, he’d find himself hanging near the lounge just to hear your laugh at his corny jokes. The only one who would oblige his macabre sense of humor. He started offering to “help” with your little projects, though it was more interfering with flair. Fixing a broken lamp, helping Husk shuffle the deck properly, cleaning a mess he likely caused in the first place. It was all an elaborate game, of course, to make you trust him so he could break you… or so he told himself.
You’d thank him. Sincerely. And that, for reasons he couldn’t quite name, felt… strange. Unsettling. Because no one ever thanked Alastor like you did. One evening, you brought him tea, black, unsweetened, just as he liked it.
“You’ve been working hard lately, Alastor. Take a break!”
“My dear, you are truly too kind to me.”
And he meant it. You were really too kind. Bound to get manipulated by some bloke who would use you to his advantage (he, obviously, was not one of those aforementioned blokes). After that, he found himself standing a bit too close when you were near. Conversations lingered. Jokes turned softer. Compliments slipped through the cracks in his banter.
“You’re rather clever, dear,”
“What a radiant smile you have my dear! Truly, Hollywood material!”
Angel Dust teased him mercilessly for it, of course.
“Didn’t know the Radio Demon had a soft spot!”
Alastor denied it with that signature grin, but his voice would come out just a bit too sharp, eyes flaring with green and black if anyone dared to insinuate he was anything but what his reputation had garnered him. But it became harder to maintain the illusion of indifference. When someone snapped at you, he’d appear out of nowhere, smile sharp as a blade, voice dripping with honey and threat until they backed down.
“Let’s not be rude to our dear guest, shall we?”
You’d scold him afterward for scaring people, but he never apologized. Not really. Just that little chuckle of his.
“Can’t have anyone disrespecting such a shining example of virtue, can we?”
Slowly, he realized he’d stopped waiting for you to fail. Now he was waiting for you to come into the room, to speak, to laugh. The quiet moments without you started to feel… empty. And though he would never admit it, he’d begun to care. Ugh, such a disgusting notion that made bile rise in his throat. The Radio Demon with feelings? Laughable. Almost as laughable as he had found you at the start. The thought terrified him more than he’d ever admit. Because caring made things unpredictable. Caring made things human. And Alastor… hadn’t been human for a very, very long time.
So imagine his surprise when you suddenly told him you had feelings for him! Coming up to his radio tower late at night, a privilege only you had been bestowed. All shaky and sheepish as you fiddled with the hem of your cute little shirt.
“Alastor?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“I…I think I have a crush on you…”
Oh, now that was certainly interesting! There is a pause. That eerie kind of silence that you hated started to settle. He doesn’t respond right away, of course he doesn’t, and you think for a moment that maybe you’ve just signed your own death warrant. His grin doesn’t fade, but it changes. It becomes something smaller.
“My, my, aren’t you a bold one, my dear. But don’t worry your little head, your affections are returned.”
It’s strange at first, learning how to date someone like him. Alastor didn’t do…“normal.” He doesn’t hold hands the way others do, doesn’t understand why you might want to spend quiet moments just being. But he tries. You see it in the way he forces himself to slow down, to let silence exist without needing to fill it with chatter or music. Be a gentleman just like his Mama taught him to be. He takes an odd pride in introducing you to others, too.
“This delightful creature is mine!”
Oh, but when you got a few months into dating? When he touches you, it’s always deliberate. The brush of fingers at your wrist. The lightest touch at your shoulder. A quick hovering over your shoulder, his breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. It always made you shudder, which Alastor found so damn addicting. The little gasp you would let out was just so…delicous. Of course Alastor knew that sexual desires were a thing, he was human once afterall. But in death, he simply had no need to relieve himself in that fashion or indulge in the sin of lust. That was, until he met you.
He could practically smell you sometimes, the way slick would rush between your thighs when he would come up behind you and put a possessive hand on your waist. And when you were ovulating, he practically sent him into overdrive. His animalistic, deer instincts commandeering control of his senses, wanting to do nothing more than bend you over and breed you. Such thoughts shocked him at first, all of it would be undignified. But the more it happened? The more he was inclined to give in. He was a sinner after all.
And that’s how you ended up where you are now. Naked and writhing beneath him, his tongue lapping up every spill of your juices that flood their way onto his face. His more cannibalistic desires came out in full force as he practically made a meal of your sloppy pussy. He was still clothed above you, albeit more bare in his white undershirt and boxers.
“You taste absolutely divine, mon cher. Why have you kept such sweet tastes from me for so long, mhm?”
“D-didn’t mean too—”
“Oh well, I shall make up for lost time then.”
You tentatively brought your hand up to tangle in his red locks, but were quickly outdone. A long, inky black tentacle coming to pin your wrist to the mattress, another making quick work of your other hand as well.
“Alastor!”
“Stop moving so much, cher. Don’t interrupt a man’s meal.”
Alastor soon added a finger to his assault. Starting to slowly trust, he was taking his time to draw out every noise. He relished in the sight below him. All tied up and pretty, tasting so delightful. It was truly a sight to behold. Maybe he should keep you here, play with you whenever he wants. The thought was certainly appealing and had his trousers becoming unnecessarily uncomfortable.
Without warning, Alastor allowed a new tentacle to sheath its heavy member into your cunt with one stroke. You gasped at the stretch, gripping the sheets with each strong stroke, choking out a cry of his name. Oh, how you sounded so sweet like this. His innocent partner, all undone before him. The saint was absolutely ruined by the sinner. Maybe he did get what he wanted after all, you falling deeper into the depths of Hell with him. The velvet of your walls squeezing the tentacle so tight that with every exit and entry of the member into your cunt, caused slick to pour past your thighs onto the sheets; leaving Alastor to lap up the mess.
“Al—please, oh God!”
“I do believe the man upstairs is not present. But I shall oblige your request in his unfortunate absence.”
Alastor knows your body like it’s his and it is. Where to curl the tentacle, the right spot to hit every time that had the pressure building and building till you felt the coil in your stomach snap as you cry your lover’s name. But your whines were quickly muffled by another tentacle coming and shoving itself in your mouth, the slimy appendage fucking your awaiting throat with ease.
Allowing you to calm down from your intense high, Alastor removed his inky bonding tentacles, watching you plop back onto his bed with no short lack of grace. Coming to caress your cheek with his hands, the gesture is surprisingly tender.
“Now, I do believe I have found you quite addicting, my dear. Rest now, but understand that I do intend to sate my desires to their fullest tonight.”
Oh, you were never making it out of this alive.