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lovelybunnigum · 2 months ago

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*cracks knuckles*

"This." | Alastor x Reader, First Kiss

Summary: You convince your new(ish) partner, Alastor, to give kissing a try.

Warnings: None apart from the tiniest mention of a bloody lip. Just fluff that gets a little steamy at the end.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Dedicated to @6esiree, her follower celebration challenge, and all the scrumptious stories she's crafted for us. x

It had taken a little convincing on your part. After all, the idea of kissing wasn't romantic or enticing to everyone. In fact, when you broke down the actual mechanics of the thing, you had to agree that it was a bit bizarre.

In the end though, he'd agreed to humor you. At least that's what he'd said. But you could see it in your partner's eyes—he was curious.

And now you were sitting cross-legged on the Radio Demon's bed—a bed he'd only procured after you'd started seeing each other and his lone option to (politely) cohabitate with you came in the form of your suite, which had several tenants in the form of void-staring Squishmallows. Especially considering he often preferred to stay up and read while you slept, it was the one scenario in which he preferred not to have an audience.

The Radio Demon, himself, sat across from you, subconsciously mirroring your body language and awaiting your next move.

You couldn't help but think, as you studied him both recreationally and to look for any indications of discomfort, that your journey to this point had been almost comical in its unlikelihood.

At the base level, it made very little sense. After all, you were more like Vox in a lot of ways than you were like Alastor—tech-savvy, excited about new gadgets and caught up on the latest memes, and absolutely rife with Gen. Z slang. Angel had been certain after you'd arrived at the hotel and stuck around long enough to make a few friends that the second Alastor realized he not only wouldn't get your soul from you, but he'd also have to deal with your shenanigans on top of everyone else's, he might decide you'd look better flambéd with a side of rice.

He hadn't thought that though, apparently. And you'd absolutely annoyed each other at first, mostly for a misfire in communication due to your highly conflicting eras and expectations, but he'd admitted to you much later—after a courting proposal he'd had planned to the letter had still gone sideways anyway, again because of you (allegedly)—that this wasn't completely true. He found you annoying, yes—which was fine because he annoyed you sometimes, too—but part of that annoyance came from how utterly fascinating he found you, too.

Alastor, at his core, didn't subscribe to the idea that vulnerability was worth a damn in the grand scheme of things. He liked it in others—subservience from the masses and warm pink blushes from you—but he expected more from himself. Vulnerability equated to weakness and that was something no overlord could afford in his mind. So his immediate response to feeling anything on the softer side for you had at first been met with utmost resistance.

He'd tried ignoring you. Not only was he miserable for the duration of that due to missing you—a realization the Doomsday District had subsequently suffered for—but you drove him up the walls when your initial hurt at being shunned turned to unbridled annoyance and an ever-increasing demand for an explanation.

He'd tried "friendzoning" you. That had initially worked and then royally pissed you off when he used the actual term he'd apparently learned from Rosie a long time ago. You'd informed him with bared fangs and gusto that your friendship was not and never would be a consolation prize and stormed off to your suite. Then you'd ignored him—for four days precisely. When you'd finally given him the time of day, he'd shown up with an armful of apology gifts and a wobbly smile he'd never admitted to wearing since.

And then he'd just spent the next leg of knowing you very confused about why nothing he'd tried had worked and why you being upset with him upended his world so completely. You'd caught him lurking at the edge of gatherings, fully honed in on you with an intensity that felt like he might be dissecting you with his eyes. You'd thought he'd found another reason to be angry at you until he'd approached you a week later and admitted the complete opposite.

That, loath as he was to admit it, he was drawn to you and it was doing neither of you any favors for him to keep lying to himself.

And you'd realized in that moment, too, that part of why his "rejections" had made you so angry were because…well, you liked him, too.

Because, for as haughty and selfish as he was, he also took great pains to go out of his way for you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room regardless of whether it was actually true. He was timeless in his strange, enigmatic way that was so very much, innately him. A way you'd come to like quite a lot. The bigger L-word was on the horizon, but you'd shelved that thought whenever it had arisen. Not only were you worried you'd scare him away, but you worried about spooking yourself, too.

Your focus pivoted as one of Alastor's ears flicked back, a silent subconscious display of his nerves. He was still watching you, measuring you with a look that managed to show his age and still look boyish simultaneously. His crimson eyes were open, flickering over your face with unease hidden behind a thin smile. When your pensive expression faltered into something affectionate, he huffed a little breath out that made his shoulders relax just the slightest bit.

"Well, dear?" Alastor wondered. His tone was just shy of a purr and you had a feeling he was trying to put up a bit more bravado than he currently felt in the face of something he wasn't as versed in. "You seemed quite intent earlier on getting me alone. Where's your moxie gone?"

"It's still around," you laughed. "Just a little nervous."

He blinked owlishly—these more vulnerable expressions were possibly the ones on him that you adored the most. The youth it smoothed over his sharp features almost made it possible to see what he'd looked like while alive. You would've never met him in life—decades on decades had ensured your separation—but it was a nice thought.

It would've had to have been in your time though. Even though he would've been miserable amidst all the swanky new tech (at least until you talked him into trying a podcast probably), you would've been more miserable trying to acclimate to the mold women were expected to fit in his era. You'd asked him once why he liked you, given just how different you were from what he'd likely grown up with, and after he'd finished laughing at your question, he'd just dropped a chaste kiss to your cheek and said he'd never been partial to dolls and found your spark far more entertaining.

"You are nervous?" Alastor asked, his smile wavering just slightly as he tilted his head. "What ever for?"

"Well, sweetheart, it's been a minute for me, too," you said with a helpless little shrug that made his features soften even as his frame seemed to tense again. "And, well, after asking you to humor me, I'd hate to mess it up."

Alastor scoffed a little and wordlessly turned one of his large, spidery hands palm-up to offer to you. Without hesitation, you took it in both of yours, running the pads of your fingertips over the ashen grooves and sharp points of his knuckles. You both watched your hands traverse his for a moment before he spoke again.

"…I must admit I wouldn't know if you did, cher."

It was your turn to look surprised. "If I did, what?" you asked, wondering if you'd been that distracted just by the opportunity to touch his hand or if there was something you'd yet to learn about him.

"If you…'messed up'," he said, borrowing your slang. The stiff, experimental way he said it made a bloom of warmth expand in your chest. How was such a feral, sadistic sort of demon so unbearably cute sometimes? You'd hardly wondered the question before his ears slowly swiveled to flatten against his hair, his smile wobbling again as he rolled his eyes away and sighed. "I expect, given our newfound partnership, I can anticipate a layer of confidentiality here tonight?"

You frowned. "If you're asking if you can trust me, the answer's yes," you murmured, mirroring his head's tilt with yours. "Is everything okay?"

Alastor smiled genuinely and gave your hand a light pat. "Just fine, darling," he said and you noticed his face looked a little flushed.

Had you ever seen him blush? God help you, now that you knew it was possible, you wanted to create that crimson hue on his cheeks as often as possible, he was precious!

"This is a first for me," Alastor finally said, sounding like he'd half-blurted it out just to get past his own pride or anxiety.

"Can you, uh, be a little more specific?" you asked, not wanting to embarrass him, but wanting to know what exactly he meant in case it changed your approach. You gently stroked his hand, hoping it came across as a soothing gesture. He could get grumpy in moments like this, taking comfort as coddling and acting all the more irritable for it after. "I'm just worried about overstepping, I'm not trying to wring anything out of you."

Alastor chuckled and shook his head. "No need to overexplain, dearest. I appreciate the attention to detail," he admitted, still choosing to stare down at your hands or the baseboard off to the side rather than meet your eyes. His ears hadn't yet lifted from their station against his head. "…Kissing. At least lips-to-lips. I never cared for the idea—I'm still not entirely sure I do now—and so I never entertained the practice."

You felt both blessed and terrified at once as you asked, "…You've never kissed anyone?"

Alastor's lip curled a little at your shock. "Please do refrain from making a scene over this," he requested with an exasperated huff.

"We don't have to try this, Al," you hastened to tell him, your fingers tightening around his hand but still leaving him room to pull away if he wanted to. He seemed to notice and the snarl in his smile smoothed away with a silent bit of gratitude. "If you're not interested, it's totally fine."

He gave you a skeptical look. "And you would simply abide by never kissing your beloved?" he asked, not sounding like he believed it a bit. "By feeling as though your partner does not want you?"

You pursed your lips—well, it stung a little when he put it like that, but that wasn't where your mind had gone. "Quit putting someone else's words in my mouth," you mumbled and that put a dash of chagrin on the Radio Demon's pinched expression. "I come from a much more flexible time than you do when it comes to this stuff. I knew you were ace before any of this, even before we became friends—"

"What now?"

You couldn't help a fond, breathy laugh. "Ace. Asexual," you elaborated. "Generally uninterested in sexual stuff, or at least not interested in the way most people are. It's normal. There's nothing wrong with that."

Alastor's ears flicked uncertainly. "I'm afraid I've garnered a much different perspective all these years," he said. "Which was perfectly fine until…well."

"It's still fine as long as we're happy," you said. "That's all there is to it."

"It sounds much easier than society made it seem in my lifetime," Alastor sighed, giving your hand another couple of pats. A silent thanks. His eyes narrowed an increment as he, at last, met your eyes again. There was no mistaking the warmth their vermillion glow sent through you. He studied you, that curiosity lingering, as he murmured, "I would still like to try. For you, dear."

You smiled. "Thanks," you said softly. "Just…no pressure, okay? We never have to do it again if you hate it or for any longer than you want to. I promise, now that I know to prepare myself, I won't be offended or hurt if you decide you don't like it."

That seemed to be the root of his unease and it made your heart give a squeeze. Evil as he liked to think he was and, in fairness, was to most, he had a soft spot for you. One you relished curling up in. One that already felt like home.

"This…stays between us regardless, yes?" Alastor murmured. "Not that it particularly matters in the grand scheme of things, but I have a grave feeling that this is something that idiotic picture box would never let go if he caught wind of it. I loathe the idea of simply offering ammunition on a platter."

"It stays right here," you promised. "Just with us."

Alastor hummed his approval and adjusted his sitting position on the mattress. "Lovely. Now…how do we go about this?" he asked, businesslike in a way that was almost comical. It was all you could do not to laugh lest he take it the wrong way in this moment where he didn't have the upper hand.

And, to be honest, his question was valid even if it did seem a bit silly. You'd never done this with someone before. Teaching someone how to kiss felt like such a momentous occasion. What if you were a bad kisser and you'd just never known because what was the gold standard for kissing?! Of course there were do's and don't's and cardinal sins, but…what made a kiss good?

You weren't sure, but you wanted his first one to be good. Perfect even, if you could manage it.

"Well," you said thoughtfully, giving your lips a nervous lick. You blushed when you saw his eyes drop down and follow the pink tip of your tongue along the seam of your mouth. You had his attention at least. "You've kissed my cheek. You can kiss someone's lips that way too. So let's just start with that."

Alastor's ears finally perked back up. "Simple enough!" he declared, seeming pleased that he wasn't being offered the deep end before being sure he could swim. "Well then…shall we?"

You smirked and shuffled a little closer, giving his hand a squeeze before letting it go to cautiously cup his cheeks. "Remember…at any point, if you want to stop—"

"I will say something, my dear," Alastor said, his ears flicking back again as his confidence faltered anew. "Or tap your arm a few times perhaps if you've got me in too tight a chokehold."

You laughed. "I'm not going to stick my tongue down your throat, for fuck's sake," you griped through a series of giggles.

"Language," Alastor scolded you despite chuckling a bit, himself.

In part to shut him up now, you closed the gap between your lips—mindful and slow, you kept to your original suggestion and simply pressed a polite, succinct peck against his still-smiling mouth. Afterward, you drew back just a little to get a read on your partner, finding his cheeks a little redder than before. And his eyes, uh, a bit wide.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I am," Alastor said, seeming a little surprised at the fact. "Why, that was hardly unpleasant at all!"

You snorted. "Hardly unpleasant… I can work with that, I guess," you mused.

He tsked at you and rested his hands against yours, which were still cradling his face. "You know very well that isn't how I meant it," he chided you. "It was pleasant. Unexpectedly so."

"Well, good!" you said, pleased he'd found it nice. "I'm glad. Did you want to keep it just at that?"

Alastor contemplated you for a moment or so and then contemplated your lips specifically—your face heated as he subconsciously wet his own.

"I could perhaps be a bit adventurous… If you're up for the task," he suggested, that curiosity lingering and shifting into something a little darker, it appeared. Wishful thinking maybe, on your part.

"I could be," you flirted back, pondering your options before suggesting, "I'll…well, I guess I'll just go until we stop—either because you tell me to or…whatever. Okay?"

Alastor shifted a little as he said, "Very well. On this particular dancefloor, darling, I follow your lead."

You couldn't help but tease him a little.

"You're a very cute old man, you know," you informed him. And, right as he was about to fire back, you slotted your lips against his, effectively finding the one way you'd encountered thus far to silence the Radio Demon.

You couldn't help a slight giggle when you heard the vinyl screech of a stalled record erupt from the air around you or possibly from his microphone propped up against the bedpost. Keeping to your word, you went slow, starting with a gentle brushing motion before offering a touch more guidance as you increased the pressure and friction by a hair.

Alastor was following, clumsily, but seemed to get his bearings little by little as you took the two of you through this ritual the way he'd once guided you both through your first waltz. You demonstrated the little nuances you'd learned in life as you went—the interval opportunities for breathing, the different sensations of brushing vs. sliding through a liplock, and where hands could rest unobtrusively when kissing was the sole activity in the cards for the evening.

Yours had remained cupping Alastor's cheeks and his had slid down from covering your fingers to loosely encircling your wrists. You'd assumed he'd left them there to free himself once he'd had enough—the way his quiet, ambient static had climbed to white noise around you had made you think he was nearing his limit—but he had yet to pull away or signal that he was done.

In fact, unless you were mistaking his body language through the hazy, dopamine-riddled fog you existed in now, he seemed ever more interested in continuing rather than stopping.

Alastor, more confident with the cadence of the kisses you shared and the way he could best move his mouth to match yours, nosed in closer when you started to lean back, thinking you were doing him a favor by allowing him some room. A disgruntled sound rumbled in the base of his throat when his nose bumped into yours, something you thought was cute but he was currently viewing as either a failure or an obstacle to what he wanted.

You smiled against his lips and used the cradle of your fingers against his cheekbones to gently angle his head—you tilted yours in kind to afford him the closeness he was after. Alastor gave a soft hum of approval as he nuzzled in again, successfully this time, and ran his hands down your forearms as the pads of his thumbs—with claws carefully angled away—skimmed the soft, delicate skin of your wrists all the way down.

Experimentally, you chanced a gentle suck against his lower lip and the cross between a low groan and a bleat that he allowed you to swallow between kisses made you shiver with delight.

It caused a reaction in him, too, apparently. In seconds, your world had tilted a full 90 degrees and you were on your back, soft scarlet quilts beneath you and enamored, lovedrunk Radio Demon on top of you.

There was no slow-and-steady now, not now that he had the idea of what he was meant to do and found himself comfortably, securely lost in your mouth, your softness, your scent. For Alastor, kissing someone on the lips had always been an alien, strange, unwelcome sort of act—no longer. Now he could only wonder how else he could get even closer to you, how completely he could be engulfed in the feelings you stirred in him when you were alone together and the Hells outside his door—your door now, too—ceased to exist until morning.

He couldn't even find it in himself to be embarrassed about the little cervine sound that had bubbled up from his throat when you'd so innocently yet salaciously tugged at his lower lip. That was filed away for another time, for now all that mattered was you.

You'd since lost your composure under the heat of his full attention. Your fingertips had traversed past the sharp lines of his cheeks toward his hair, gently tangling in the crimson and black-tipped locks that hung in short curtains around his face as he bowed over you, consuming you more surely and more thoroughly all the time.

Overzealous, he briefly and only once caught your lip with the edge of one of his lethal teeth—he'd lapped the bead of blood away, mumbled an apology, and proceeded to kiss you through the clotting, enjoying his taste of your essence without causing you any extra, undue discomfort.

When finally you had to break for air, you filled your lungs and looked up at Alastor, admiring the sparkle in his eyes and the disheveled state of his usually pristine appearance. Again you thought you were glimpsing not just the buck you'd fallen for, but the man he'd been long before you'd ever existed. You smiled—who would've thought you could feel lucky to be dead?

"Safe to say it's not so bad?" you asked, smirking a little when you heard how breathless your own voice sounded.

Alastor chuckled and straightened, plucking you up from the bed and bringing you with him. "Yes, indeedy, darling," he admitted, kissing your cheek as he admired your plush, kiss-bruised lips. He tutted a little at the tiny split he'd caused but seemed to take it in stride. "Was it… Was I alright for you as well?"

Your expression softened. "You always are," you murmured, tilting your head back to kiss the tip of his nose. "But yes. You're a very quick study."

You felt his chest puff with pride. "Why, of course!" he boasted with a haughty chuckle, back to the Radio Demon you knew (and loved). "Certainly couldn't be too hard a thing to learn, after all—the rabble and then some have seemed to figure it out just fine."

Expecting him to humble-brag you into oblivion, you simply let him marinate in his success—at least until he surprised you yet again. It seemed to be something he was inclined to do often and you couldn't complain. Especially when his surprises tended to, for you, border on a saccharine sort of sweet. Not that he'd ever admit to it.

Alastor smiled warmly down at you and bravely leaned in to press another, shorter kiss to your lips. "Thank you, ma cher."

You blinked. "What for?"

He hummed in consideration before murmuring simply, "This."

A look into his eyes told you that "this," wasn't simply a kiss or a conversation or any particular moment in isolation. It was all of those things though, all at once. The smile you shared was part of it, too.

And the countless tender moments that hadn't happened yet would be part of it as well.

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lovelybunnigum · 2 months ago

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Radioapple Angst Request! - Part 2:

“Why is it that I always seem to find you on the roof?”

“That’s a secret.” Turning to Alastor with an amused smile, he patted the spot next to him. “Gonna come sit with me this time or call me an idiot and tell me to get to bed again?”

“I suppose I can humor you tonight. But only tonight.”

That one night had turned into many more. They were by far some of the best nights of Alastor’s afterlife.

Evenings after dinner on the roof, sleepless nights spent together in Lucifer’s ridiculously large bed talking about whatever popped into their heads, late nights drinking in Alastor's radio tower…

He was not going to lose those moments just because the little king was being a coward. Now if only Alastor could figure out why. Why did he run away like that?

Perhaps their dear Charlie knows. He’ll have to go and ask her before he goes over to the palace. It was always best to be prepared.

“No, no, no. Why is it flaring up now? Roo… why won't you just leave me in peace?” He could feel it creeping up his neck. The darkness. It was wrapping around his throat and covering his eyes-

“Lucifer!”

“Alastor maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Nonsense. Isolation isn’t good for the mind. Especially one that is spiraling. Much like your father’s.”

Charlie? Alastor? What in the unholy hell were they doing here?! It wasn't safe! He had to leave. Had to get away and keep them safe-

"There you are sire!"

Shit! "S-Stay back! Don't come near me, either of you!"

"Dad? What's going on- what is that blood goop?!"

Time was running out. He couldn't stop it from happening this time. "Alastor. I swear I will tell you everything if you get Charlie out of here. It isn't safe."

"...Very well."

"What? No! Let me stay and help!"

This was it. As soon as Charlie was out of those doors Lucifer would tell him everything. After that, he would leave, and this darkness would most likely swallow him whole forever. Lilith wasn't here to use her song to keep it at bay anymore.

"Alright. I was promised an explanation." Taking a look quickly around the room, Alastor only now noticed what a mess it was.

Not just from dust or clutter like he had expected to find. Furniture was upturned and looked like it had been thrown, and some looked to be smashed into pieces. The walls and floors had claw marks across them. Then, there was Lucifer himself.

"First, you can tell me about those shadows that seem to be trying to devour you."

Lucifer was silent for a moment, compilating the request. He didn't have time for this. But what choice did he have? He said he would explain everything. So, with what time he had left, he would hold up his end of the agreement.

"It's... the darkness. It's Roo. After what I did... letting evil into the world, I went and spoke with Roo. She made a deal with me. The very first demonic deal... she wanted to always be with me and in exchange she would keep the balance between the light and dark in the world. In people's hearts and souls."

What? Did Alastor hear that correctly? Lucifer, who has always hated his demonic form and everything that came with it, especially in the very beginning, made the very first demonic deal in creation to once again save humans? To right what he and Heaven deemed a mistake?

"But... fuck! I can't even do that right!" Pushing his hair out of his face, Lucifer let a bitter, self-loathing laugh slip out. Along with the tears he had so desperately been trying to hide.

"What do you mean?"

"When I'm stressed, or my emotions become too much to handle, I slip. My control wavers! She takes over my body and senses! Roo is able to upset the balance! Lilith... her song helped. Her singing can hypnotize people. It only worked on me for a couple of seconds, but that was enough time for me to regain control."

It felt... good... to talk to someone about this. He could feel the darkness recede. Just a little, but that just meant he had more time. More time with Alastor.

"It's one of the reasons I would isolate myself. Especially... Especially after I had hurt Charlie- Oh god! Lilith was right to take her when she left! I almost killed my little girl!"

"Lucifer! You're spiraling again!" Reaching out to try and get him to stop pulling at his hair, Alastor was surprised and a little hurt when he recoiled. He had never rejected his touch before.

"You can't touch me! She'll infect you or I-I'll hurt you! Please..."

Taking a few deep breaths to try and steady himself, Lucifer continued. As much as he was worried that he would hurt him, it helped to have him here.

"I didn't want to reject your confession. I was just- I'm scared. I can't take another heartbreak. I gave up everything for someone who left. Who got tired of all my baggage. Honestly, I can't blame her. I knew it might happen one day. I just hoped that she wouldn't have kept me from my own daughter, who I carried and gave birth to since she couldn't. And to just pretend I don't exist!"

"Alastor what is going on?!"

It had all happened so fast. Lucifer had transformed right in front of his eyes into a giant Eldrige being, destroying the palace in the process. It was glorious. However, the circumstances were not. Alastor had to fix this. So, he returned to the hotel quickly with a plan.

"Your father is trapped in Roo's darkness. Do not worry, I know what to do."

"And what would that be?"

"That, my dears, is to reassure that foolish king that I have no intentions of leaving. He is forever stuck with me whether he likes it or not."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged worried glances before looking back at Alastor. "How can we help?"

Lucifer hated this part the most. Floating in a void of darkness. At least he was starting to lose himself enough that the screams of his people were beginning to muffle. If only he had some light...

"Salutations! Dear Sinners, worry no longer. For I am here to tame the beast that is our very own King of Hell."

Huh? Alastor? How could he hear his voice so clearly? Wait. Was that... light? A light was just ahead! If only he could reach it! But... he was tired...

"Once he comes to his senses, Hell can enjoy a royal wedding. Between whom you may ask. Why, dear listeners, Lucifer Morningstar and myself."

A wedding? For him and Alastor? He wanted to... no. He could just be saying that. There was no way. Right?

"Including a soul deal forever binding us together. You will not get rid of me Lucifer. Even if I have to hunt you down and drag you back kicking and screaming."

He couldn't believe it. He had to get free, go to him and apologize. The light was shining brighter as he swam to it. Fighting against the shadows and self-doubt for the first time in a long time that tried to pull him back, Lucifer finally reached it! Reaching out the last little bit of distance to grab it and let it envelop him.

In an instance, the darkness exploded off his body and rushed back inside of him, leaving him to fall from the sky. He was too weak to use his wings to catch himself. He barely registered it, but he could feel warm and sturdy arms catch him. Looking up, Lucifer saw that he was back in the care of Alastor. He was really going to have to make it up to him.

Part 1

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