Archive of Our Own

The hotel was horrifically boring when Alastor was not around.

It was an odd thought. Since your arrival at the hotel you and Alastor had never gotten particularly close. You had seen him, sure, but only in passing when Charlie hosted activities. You attended all of them, curious about redemption but never fully committing to the belief that it was possible.

Charlie, you were used to being around. And as it seemed, Charlie grew accustomed to you.
The princess grew on you, just a little, and slowly but surely you began a sort of friendship with her and her little group of friends. The group had warmed up to you with time — all except Alastor.

Alastor was the hotel host. At least he was supposed to be. He had greeted you when you first joined the hotel, but that was mere pleasantries.

That was also the only direct interaction the two of you have actually had.

You never spoke after that.
The closest to conversation the two of you came was when Alastor was talking to Charlie. He countered nearly everything she said with a sarcastic remark. A jab, smoothly passed as a joke. Charlie found it funny, and Alastor seemed to tolerate the never-ending sunshine that was her personality.
You found their dynamic bizarre, but charming nonetheless.

You didn’t believe in redemption any more than Alastor did. But he lingered around the hotel because it was entertaining, and you didn’t have anywhere else to be—so you felt as though you and the radio demon had something in common.

You spent several months at the hotel before you found yourself wanting to gravitate toward Alastor. He was captivating in a morbidly fascinating way, and thus, your morbid curiosity about the hotel and redemption slowly evolved into a desire to get to know Alastor himself instead.

It was just a shame he made himself scarce.

Because the hotel was horrifically boring when Alastor was not around.
He had been absent for some time now -almost a week- and it was strange for the overlord to be missing. Charlie, it seemed, thought the same — being that the princess had tasked you to try to find him.

~~~

“Hey Husk.”

You greeted the cat while slipping into your seat at the bar. Your talks with Husk were never long either, but if anybody knew where Alastor might be, it would be him.

“Evening.”

You made small talk with him first, dancing around the question until you had enough liquid courage to ask; “So uh…have you seen Alastor recently?”

When the bartender paused shining the glass in his hand you felt the need to explain yourself bubble within your chest. “Charlie was worried, I told her I’d ask around. And seeing that you know him the most- or well… have been around him the longest, I should probably start with you.”

If Husk believed you, he didn’t show it.
And having heard yourself ramble, you didn’t believe yourself either.

“Charlie is asking huh?”

“She did!”

“And what does that have to do with you?”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered Husk having mentioned something about ‘seeing through other people’s bullshit’. Something about 'everybody talked to the bartender.'
You tried to think back to past nights spent at the bar. Nights you might have had too much to drink and let your curiosity about the hotel’s host slip.

“You know you wear all your emotions on your face.”
Husk was staring at you, eyes bored and lips turned into an unimpressed frown.

Ah. That was it then.

Because you were sure -positive even- you have never told another soul about your fascination with the radio demon.
Your lingering stares at him from across the room though, shared another story entirely. A story that Husk has clearly noticed.

You downed the rest of your drink. “Am I really that obvious?”
Husk seemed amused at least, which loosened the tightness in your chest slightly. You slid your empty glass back toward the cat.

“You two always fucking stare at each other. It’s no wonder nobody else talked to you about it.”

And really you didn’t know what to do with that information.
You elected to change the subject, “Charlie did ask me to look for the record, but I only agreed because I get bored when he’s not around.”

“If he wanted to be around he would be.”

“Come on Husk please! Do you know where he might be or not?”

~~~

And well… that’s how you found yourself exploring the -sort of off limits- wing of the hotel.

The hallway was silent while you explored. It was eerie in a way, the chatter from the lobby was unable to reach this hall and it left a suffocating sort of silence in its absence.
You really shouldn’t be here.
Husk had told you that Alastor gets moody around this time of year and shouldn’t be disturbed.
You tried to press for details but he was vague. Intentionally, or because he genuinely didn’t know, you weren’t sure.

Your first guess was maybe Alastor had died around this time of year. Lots of sinners were bothered when the anniversary of their death came around, maybe Alastor was no different. You asked Husk if he knew when Alastor died, but the cat shrugged his shoulders.
Husk did not try to stop you when you wandered away from the bar with the obvious intention to find Alastor.
“It’s your funeral if you go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Well… Maybe that was him trying to stop you, but you were a stubborn thing, and boredom was going to kill you anyway if Alastor didn’t. So onward you walked.
Toward the shadowy door at the end of the hall that you were sure belonged to him.

~~~

“Alastor? Are you in there?”

Silence was your only response. Loud and unnerving. And really that should have been your sign to turn around and run.

“Look, Charlie is worried about you, so can you just tell me you’re not sick -so I can tell her that you’re all good?”

Another beat of silence.
Maybe he wasn’t in there.
Maybe this wasn’t even his room.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob for a while, considering.
Maybe he was asleep.
Maybe he wasn’t in there at all.
Maybe it was none of your business and you should go.

Carefully you cracked the door open and peeked inside.

The room was buzzing with electricity.
Alastor sat perched atop his bed. Pillows and sheets were strewn about over the mattress and floor. His hair was unkept and skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His clothes were crumpled and when your eyes met-

“Get out.”

The sight of him looking so unkept startled you into stillness. “Are you sick?” The words came out before you could think.

Alastor opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strangled noise. His mouth clicked shut -lips in a thin line as if his ever present smile was fighting a desired frown- and his ears flattened against his head.

Something was wrong.
You entered the room and hurried to his bedside. Maybe Charlie had been right to worry.
“Alastor is very stubborn,” she had told you, “and if he needs help he won’t tell us. So we should show him that we’re here to help him no matter what!”

You did worry, that if you tried to press him he’d attack you. You weren’t stupid, the radio demon could flip you inside out with a snap of his fingers.
But Charlie had assured you that they were friends. That you were his friend by extension and he wouldn’t hurt you.
You weren’t so sure, but she seemed to believe it…

You hurried to Alastor’s bedside, ignoring the way your stomach clenched when he bristled.

He shifted, pulling his body away from you and toward the foot of his bed. His lips turned up and he bore his teeth in warning.
Instead, you rambled on, fussing over him and telling him about Charlie’s worries. Alastor looked as though he wanted to argue with you. Maybe he had been about to share a sarcastic comment about the princess’ constant worry about everybody at the hotel.
But the back of your hand pressed firmly against his forehead, and Alastor went still as death.

His hair felt damp with sweat. Skin hot to the touch and moist. He stared at you, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.
You however grimaced, “You’re burning up. Are you sure you don’t need-”

“Don’t. Touch me!”
His voice keened. An attempted bark of control, but you had heard it.
How his voice cracked at the end. It cracked into a plea. A beg, that sounded too erotic to pretend it was anything but.

You whipped your hand back as if it burned. Heat rushed to your face and neck.

The silence was deafening, save for Alastor’s uneven breaths. Ragged and desperate.

“Sorry.” You turned away from him. “I- sorry. I’ll tell her- nevermind… something- doesn’t matter. Forget I was-”
You rushed for the door. You needed to run. You needed to leave before the overlord pulled himself together and ripped you apart for seeing him in such a state.

Darkness bled over the door before you could flee. A blinking shadow formed, staring at you with a frown. You paused, and it floated back toward it’s host. You didn’t turn around.

You had seen the radio demon in a state of need and he was going to flay you alive.
Alastor was going to flay you alive and you had no interest in watching him do so.

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know.”
The silence that followed was heavy. You squeezed your eyes shut.

You knew how this would go. You, as well as most everyone in Hell.
It would begin with screaming. The tearing of flesh. A bright flash of green light and then your soul trapped in his broadcast to scream for eternity.
“I swear I won’t say anything.”

When the silence stretched you turned halfway toward him, glancing over your shoulder.
He was staring at you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His bowtie was hanging loosely over his shoulders, shirt collar half sticking up on his right side and his waistcoat was nowhere to be found. And really, it seemed obvious now, that the overlord was not sick.

It was painfully obvious in fact, that the great radio demon was fighting a losing battle against carnal desires.

The silence was killing you. You whirled around to face him.
“Say something!”

“It’s hot.”
His voice was strangled. Static crackled within the words and you stared at him. The words meant nothing to you, not really.

“Do you want me to turn on the fan?”

… “no.”

“Well then I’ll be leaving-”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Death.
Second death was coming for you.
You crossed your arms. If you were dying regardless it didn’t really matter what happened now did it? “What do you want?”

Alastor’s mouth opened and closed again. Once, twice.
The uncertainty looked unnatural on his face. His eyes looked… tired and desperate all at once. His pupils were blown with desire that-

“It’s hot.”
Wait.

You took a stiff step backward, “what are you asking me?”

Alastor’s gaze ripped from you at last. He shifted on the bed, and a muffled sound floated through the quiet. A whimper straining to escape from being locked behind tightly closed lips. Static flared around him in an attempt to hide it, but you had heard.

The sound made you dizzy.

“I’m asking… for you to help me.”
His words were slow, careful. And it made you feel hot. The intention was clear. The desire was obvious, and you, well… your body was certainly not making your denial convincing.

But this felt wrong.
Alastor has not ever showed an interest in sex. Angel Dust has made countless comments and told stories of the like, and Alastor had always seemed disinterested if not disgusted.

And here now—Alastor looking the way he did—unkept and needy and asking you for help. And if he had been like this the whole time he’s been absent…
You tried to steady your breathing.

“You’re not thinking straight.”

The tension snapped like a string. Alastor snarled, his claws ripped at the pillow under him sending feathers floating through the air. “It hurts! Everything feels hot! I can’t think straight because this damned body won’t cooperate, and if you’re going to be here anyway you may as well help me!”

“This is a trick. If I walk over there you will kill me.”

“If I wanted you dead I’d have done it already!”

Your voice was dark, a warning. “Alastor.”

The overlord’s throat bobbed. “Do it.”

Your hands flew to your shirt buttons, removing the garment and abandoning it somewhere on the floor. You hurried toward the bedside again, crowding his space this time on the bed. “Lay down.”

Alastor’s eyes widened, he tilted his weight until his back met the baseboard of his bed.
He watched you, breathing hard with a wobbly smile across his face. Red eyes blown with desire and a blush painted over his features.

You fumbled with your belt. “What sort of thing do you need when you get like this? I cannot believe this is happening…”
When your belt hit the floor you looked back up at him. His eyes were unreadable, mouth stretched in that ever present smile but his ears-
His ears were pinned down. He looked like a cornered animal. You leaned back immediately. “Alastor?”

“I don’t know.”

Your brows knit in confusion. “What?”

He didn’t move. Body frozen and hot to the touch. He was breathing heavily, face flushed red. “I. Don’t. Know.” He bit out through grit teeth.

You studied his face, the frustration that bloomed in his desperate expression. His ears twitched again.
The realization dawned on you. You swallowed, nervous, “how much experience do you have?”

Alastor merely shook his head. A small motion, before glancing back down. Static crackled, a blip of some music came from his radio before fizzling out again. You wondered if he might have been frowning again with the way his smile was pulled so thin.
You didn’t think before you spoke, “Not even when you were alive?”

Alastor bristled. “If you plan to mock me-”

“No. No, no, not mocking,” you rush, “surprised is all. I assumed you… well. It was a wrong assumption.”

It was the wrong thing to say, judging by how violently Alastor cringed, and you tried not to kick yourself for it. “Forget it, never mind that. We’ll find out together.”

The overlord’s gaze met yours again. “What?”

You took a steadying breath and slipped back into character—letting your own desire fuel your words. You leaned back into his space. “We’re going to figure out what you need together, and I’m going to fill your every desire.”

His breath hitched, and his body shuddered minutely. The corner of your lips turned up, and your hands found the hem of your boxers to edge them down.
Your cock bobbed in its new freedom. You kicked the clothes off, now completely naked over him. “Take your pants off.”

But he wasn’t looking at you. Not anymore. Now his gaze was trained down, between your legs at your hardened length. “Wait-”

“I can’t help you with your pants on.” Your hands took to his pants. Working at the buttons on his mostly unmoving body. Alastor’s claws found your wrists and yanked your hands away.

His hands were shaking. His eyes once so full of lust now blown wide with panic sounded alarms in your head. He looked so vulnerable… Your tone softened, “What’s wrong?”

Alastor didn’t answer, just panted heavily. It worried you more.
You leaned back slightly and shook your wrists free from his grip. His hands moved to his shirt and scrunched the fabric under his claws. You watched him for a moment, feeling rather self conscious the longer you knelt fully nude over him while he was fully clothed.
Were you moving too fast?

Your eyes lingered on him—how tense his shoulders were. How tightly he was scrunching his shirt. Your gaze continued down, down to his pants when you paused.
The fabric between his legs held a noticeable lack of interest. But not just a lack of interest, there was a lack of bulge entirely. As if-

As if…

Your gaze found his again, and he must have realized you knew, because his face twisted into a panicked snarl. There was a glassy look to his eyes now, one you were sure wasn’t there from moments ago. A sort of animalistic terror that made his antlers twist and grow.

“Alastor.” You said slowly, disarmingly, “Let me undress you. Please.”

The overlord didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away either. You slowly began to unbutton his pants, keeping your movement careful and slow to give him ample time to pull away. He stayed still all the while.
With the buttons free and zipper undone, you began to work the pants off his hips. You looped your fingers into the band of his underwear, and earned a warning hiss. Your gaze found his again. Your voice came out in a hushed tone, “Stop me.”

The room was quiet. Alastor glared at you but didn’t move, didn’t argue. You carefully edged the fabric down, down his v-line and-
Whatever momentary rage he had felt was gone. His body returned to normal and the threatening green glow ebbed away back into his skin.

Alastor turned his gaze to the floor. “Don’t look at me.”


Between his legs sat two folds, glossy with slick. It was, unexpected, to say the least. You had never once considered Alastor’s anatomy —you haven’t considered anyone at the hotel’s anatomy, as a matter of fact— but even still it was a surprise. It had never occurred to you to think about.
Yet here he was, lying on his bed -with you- clearly embarrassed that Alastor, in life, had been born female.

But anatomy of any kind has never bothered you. So you having the gift of seeing Alastor like this and helping him in such a deeply personal way- Your words slipped out like a prayer. “You are gorgeous.”

Alastor’s head snapped back to look at you, eyes glaring and a warning twisted onto his expression. Your hand twitched, “May I?”

Alastor’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let out an uncomfortable noise then nodded minutely.

You finished undressing his lower half, carefully stripping him of his pants and underwear then discarded them onto the floor. Alastor huffed a shaky breath, but again, didn’t argue.
“Breathe.” You instructed, and he did. A strangled breath came out when his body shifted, bare from the hips down. “It’s just us. Nobody needs to know about this.”

You weren’t sure if your words reassured him or not. His ears twitched, then loosened slightly from where they had been pressed into his head.
“Get on with it.” He grit out, and you cringed.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re going to hate it.” You leaned back slightly.

The overlord let out a snort. Something like a frustrated laugh. “Hot.” He argued again.

“Alastor-” you started, but he growled. Animalistic. So you clicked your mouth shut.
Your hands ghosted up to the buttons on his shirt. “Would you like this to come off?”

Alastor nodded, and you began to pluck the buttons undone. As his shirt opened you couldn’t help but admire him.

He was lean—not overly muscular but not skinny either. His chest was littered with old scars.
You scanned his chest curiously for signs of top surgery scars. The skin around his breasts were mostly bare, save for the odd nicked scar in a few places. He must have gotten lucky, ending up with a naturally small chest either in life or when he arrived in hell. You wondered if his chest would be sensitive…

“Stop staring.”

You shook yourself from your thoughts, cock throbbing, and helped him out of his shirt the rest of the way.

~~~

Now with both of you fully nude the silence felt thicker. Your eyes mapped his body while Alastor seemed to just stare ahead—seemingly unsure if he should look at you or somewhere else.
You broke the tension first. “I need you to tell me if I do something that you don’t like.”

Alastor grimaced then bore his teeth, “I can handle it.”

It made you frown. “I’m serious. Your first time can hurt, and I need you to tell me if it does.”
The silence was loud between you both.
“Okay?”

Alastor nodded begrudgingly, and with a blushed face, spread his legs.

Heat coiled in your gut at the sight.
Slowly you tipped forward, closing the distance between your bodies. Your knee slotted between his legs and the sinner emit a small gasp when you dipped your head toward his chest.

Your lips wrapped around one of his nipples, experimentally sucking on the bud to lick at it. At once you were rewarded with a strangled noise. A whimper, barely concealed behind his teeth.
“I’d like to hear you,” your voice rumbled out, giving his sensitive chest a moment’s break before you lapped at it again. “I like to know when I’m doing a good job.”

You could feel the wet dripping onto your knee. The slick that spread when you adjusted your weight slightly to press harder into the need between his legs.

Alastor’s body shuddered again, tight like he was trying to hide it. You nibbled on his bud then, sucking the nipple and squeezing it with your teeth. His hips bucked, a startled noise fled his lips, and his hands whipped up to cover his mouth.
You barely concealed a laugh, “relax. Let yourself enjoy it.”

His nipple was puffy and wet when you finally parted from his chest. Your gaze met his wide eyes blown with desire and shame. You had the impulse to kiss him. To lean down and kiss away all his concern until neither of you could breathe.
“You’re allowed to enjoy this.”

Static flared from the near by radio again. It hissed, as if offended by your words.
A sound that quickly died off behind a whine from the overlord when your lips gave much needed attention to his other nipple.

Alastor’s hands moved, and suddenly you felt fingers buried in your hair. His hips bucked and ground against your knee which earned another desperate sound.
“Hot-”

“I know.” You give him another lick. “But I want to take my time with you.”

If he was angry, his desire drowned it out.

You grinned, finding his gaze again. “I can feel you throbbing.”

Alastor’s thighs tightened around your knee and he growled, “don’t mock me.”

“I’d never,” you moved your knee back and -much to your delight- watched a strand of slick connect your knee to his folds. “I’m teasing you.”
Your hand moved to draw gentle lines down his abdomen and stopped right above his now swollen lips. “May I touch you?”

His hands squeezed your hair before releasing it.
Slowly -as if he didn’t know what to do with them- his claws found your shoulders.
His eyes squeezed shut as he nodded. You tilted your head. “Look at me.”

Surprisingly, there was no argument. His expression twisted, then eyes cracked open. You smiled and two fingers dipped between his folds.

He was warm. Not warm. Hot.
Hot and wet as you rubbed your fingers back and forth between his lips.
The motion came with a strangled noise, a whimper, a shaky breath- and then-

“Relax Alastor.”
Your thumb pulled up on his clitoral hood. With the nerve now exposed you rolled it between your index and middle finger.

The tension in his body snapped.

Alastor’s hips bucked, his claws scratched at your skin and his eyes rolled back. A moan was ripped from his throat. You grinned at the sight, fingers rolling in a circular motion around his clit and squeezed every so often.

He shivered. Hips twitched and bucked while you worked. And the sounds- “mm..ah.. hah-” panting and breathy.

His sounds were intoxicating.

You continued to play with him until he was all but squirming. Your fingers moved again, dipping down to circle his wet hole.
“This might feel uncomfortable at first.”

“Mmph.”

It was the only acknowledgement you were going to get surely.
Without another word, you pushed your index finger into his heat. It slid in easily, hot and wet until your palm pressed against his folds.
Alastor gasped, walls clenched around you, “ah-!”

“It's alright. Just take your time.”
You remained like that, unmoving with your finger inside him—palm pressed almost lovingly between his legs.
He was panting, body hot to the touch. You couldn’t help but throb at the thought of being inside him. Feeling his heat like fire all around you.

A few moments pass before his walls began to relax. Only then did he speak between attempted steadying breaths, “strange…”

“Feels weird?”

He nodded.

“It’ll feel good, I promise. We just have to be patient.”

Alastor didn’t respond, but he did seem to listen at least.


Like that, you waited, attempting to fill the silence with chit-chat that he did not respond to. You rambled away regardless, talking about nothing until his walls weren’t squeezing you so tightly.
When his body seemed relaxed, you slipped a second finger inside.

“Ah~!”
His moan rang in your ears. A bead of precum dribbled out from your tip at the sound.
Patience. You remind yourself desperately.

Experimentally, you pulled your fingers back to ease them back in. You began a rhythmic motion, one that earned a caught breath before Alastor’s body twisted. His claws raked down your back to cling to your hips, earning a pained moan from you.

His chest began to heave again, taking staggering breaths while he began to attempt to suffocate pleasured sounds.
“Let it out.” You crooked your fingers just so, and a warm gush of liquid coated your fingers.

Alastor keened. His back arched and he whimpered. He whimpered out your name like a plea to the heavens. “Please~”

You forgot how to breath.

Alastor bucked. “Need you inside~”

“Gorgeous-” The word slipped out again. If Alastor heard you he was too far into his pleasure to care.

The desire coiled tighter in your gut like a snake and you hurried to pull your fingers out. They were coated in slick and glistened when you pulled them apart. A string of gloss connected them before it broke. It was mesmerizing, it was alluring-

It was almost enough for you to not have seen Alastor staring—wide eyed and embarrassed before his head snapped to the side.

“Look at me.”

He turned. Peeking out embarrassed at you while you lowered your hand down to coat your shaft with his slick.

You stroked your cock carefully—putting on a show for him while you readied yourself.
You dipped your fingers into his hole again to gather more liquid, earning a mortified moan from the overlord.

You tilted your hips then and repositioned yourself on the bed. One hand anchored beside his head while the other guided your shaft to press your tip against his hole. Alastor froze, bit his lip, then waited.

Despite the desire to take him there and then- your voice came out soft, “Are you ready?”

He hummed, voice crackled with static.

“It might burn at first,” you warned, “I’ll go nice and slow okay?”
Alastor twitched, another strangled noise tried to break free while he shut his eyes. It was as close to verbal consent you were going to get.

Slowly, you began to sink into him.
He was as hot as you had hoped. His walls squeezed your length while they stretched around your size. Alastor hissed.

“Do you need me to stop?”

There was a beat. A strangled breath. Then a shake of his head. “No,” and his voice sounded divinely husky, “No, need it…”
You throbbed from inside him, and you could have sworn he squeaked in response.

Your hands held onto his hips now with a firm grasp. Your hips met his skin and you took a shaky breath. Your vision swam, lustful desire screamed to begin moving inside him but you stayed put. You took a breath. “We’re all the way inside. You took it so well.”

Alastor’s walls tightened. His pupils dilated just so and you choked on a moan. His eyes lit up at the sound so you continued. “..gonna make me cum before I even move.”

“Move-” his voice was a plea. A prayer. “I need you to move~”

“Patience-”

He moaned your name again, voice broken and desperate. “Please!”

You pulled back, hissing as the tightness massaged your crown and eased back inside. It was torture, painfully slow, but Alastor’s eyes rolled back.
His head fell into the pillows and his claws clung to the sheets. The noise he made was soft, a whining sort of noise and really, your pace no longer mattered.
Because Alastor —the radio demon— was underneath you in bed. Crying out and taking your cock having never experienced being in a bed with another.
Because you were the fortunate soul in hell who happened to be the one Alastor had chosen to take his virginity instead of striking you dead where you stood when you found him.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“No,” His eyes were glossy and unfocused. He tried to hold your gaze, only to blush and close his eyes again. “Good… feels~ full.”

The urge to kiss him returned. To slam your lips over his and push your tongue into his mouth to explore every inch of him.
How could somebody so proper, so powerful, be so small underneath you? Begging for you in this way- falling apart under you of all sinners and become so submissive.

How did you become so lucky?

“You’re~ hah- staring.”

Your lips turn up guilty. “Sorry.” He was going to question you.
You didn’t want to answer his questions.

You quickened your pace.

And questions in Alastor’s eyes were abandoned.
Goosebumps rose across his skin under your grasp and his back bowed in an arch. Legs suddenly wrapped around your waist and he squeezed his eyes shut, cutting off your gaze to that gloriously hungry look in his eye. “Harder~”

“What-”

“Harder.” He demanded. Voice desperate. He was shaking, legs trembling while wrapped around you tightly. “Need it harder.”
You could feel yourself leaking inside him. Your body was crying to hurry while he begged.
And yet, “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt-”

His eyes met yours. “The heat- it hurts. Please! Please just make me yours!”

Fire burst in your veins.
With newfound adrenaline you lifted his hips and yanked him onto you. Your shaft thrusted down with the new angle and struck his sweet spot.

Alastor broke.

His mouth fell open to let out a cry of pleasure. Back arched off the mattress while his claws tore at the sheets under him. You held his hips steady, pulling his body along your shaft with a brutal pace. The head of your cock struck the spongy tissue within him repeatedly.

Again. And Again.
And again.
Harder.

And Harder.


Alastor thrashed.
His hands abandoned the sheet to grab blindly at your wrists, desperately trying to pry your hands from his hips. He squeezed and fought without strength, whimpering and unable to hide his moans.

“Feels good?”

“Ha~ah!”

“Use your words.”

“Yes!”

“Good boy.”

The sinner merely whined, ears flat and eyes clenched shut. You changed the angle again, just slightly. When fully mounted you felt your tip squeezed, kissed by his cervix and Alastor’s eyes flew open. “Wait!”

His walls squeezed. They pulled tighter and tighter. His claws dug into your arms, pulling for release.

You growled. “Let go.”

“I’m- I can’t-”

“Does it hurt?”

“No!”

“Then let go Alastor.”

He was panting. Hair disheveled and eyes glossy and frantic. His face burned red, embarrassed and desperate. You leaned in, pounding him steadily so the skin on skin echoed in the room furiously.

“I- I feel- please- w~ait-”

Your lips were a hair apart from his. You could feel his breath against your face. “Cum for me.”

Alastor let out a sob, and his walls contracted furiously around you. You choked on air and snapped your hips into him. Hot ropes of cum poured from you, filling him while he convulsed. Your thrusts became sloppy, rutting unevenly against him while you both rode out your highs.

As his pulses died down, he gasped for air. His body collapsed under you, boneless and panting. A pleased, exhausted smile written over his face. At last you pulled out, and stole a glance between his legs.

His folds were puffy and reddened. Glossy with slick while your cum began to drip out and down to the sheet.

The room was silent, aside from heavy breathing.

At last you stood, and excused yourself to retrieve a small bowl of warm water and a washcloth.

~~~

Alastor flinched and squirmed while you attempted to clean him. You chuckled when you rubbed the warm cloth over his folds and he whined. “Sensitive.”

“I’m sure you are.”
You cleaned yourself quickly then set the bowl aside when you finished.

The room was silent. Alastor’s body was curled around a pillow, face hidden in the fabric.
You wondered if it was the pillow he had torn up earlier.

“Alastor?”

His ear twitched, though he didn’t respond beyond a muffled ‘hmmph.”
You smiled, shook your head, then climbed over him. Alastor turned his head slightly and cracked an eye open to look at you.
You flopped unceremoniously into the sheets behind him.

“I’m going to sleep here.” You told him, half expecting him to argue.

Alastor shut his eyes again.

“I’m going to put my arm around you.”

There was no answer.

Slowly you moved to curl your arm around his waist. The overlord was stiff for a beat, then tucked himself into your chest and went to sleep.