Don't mind me

Just rebloggin things I don't wanna lose on main. 30+ 🔞 Ask box Open

[queenofmorningstar]

Wedding

Lucilith x Reader

summary: will you make it to your own wedding?

cw: fluff, smut

Really, all problems started with Bee and Ozzie teasing Lucifer on how lovely you looked in your wedding gown, knowing he won't be able to resist.

Lucifer had been doing surprisingly well, all things considered. He hadn't sent Charlie to "accidentally" check on you, and had only checked the time seventeen times in the last ten minutes.

Lucifer had tugged on his bow tie several times already. The damn thing wasn't even crooked.

He knew that. Lilith knew that. Anyone with functioning eyesight would know that.

Yet somehow he kept finding reasons to adjust it.

A small pull to the left. A slight tightening. Then a complete undoing of the knot because perhaps the entire thing had been tied incorrectly from the start.

Five minutes later, he was staring at the finished result only to discover it looked exactly the same as before.

With a long sigh, he finally abandoned the battle and dropped into a chair.

This was bad.

He only had to wait another half hour. Perhaps less.

Thirty minutes was nothing. He had existed for millennia.

Thirty minutes should have been easy. So why did it feel impossible?

"What's wrong, love?"

Lucifer glanced sideways.

Lilith sat beside him, elegant as ever. Every detail of her appearance was perfect, from the drape of her clothing to the jewels adorning her neck. She looked every bit the Queen of Hell, poised and untouchable.

After all, this wasn't exactly their first wedding.

Over the centuries, Lucifer and Lilith had accumulated enough ceremonies to fill several history books. They had exchanged vows beneath marble temples during ancient Roman celebrations. They had walked around sacred fires in elaborate Indian ceremonies. They had participated in old Welsh traditions, handfasting rituals, forgotten customs that no longer existed anywhere but their memories.

He opened his mouth, already preparing a teasing remark.

The words never came. Because he noticed her hands.

At first, it was subtle.

Just a slight tremor. A tiny movement. But once he saw it, he couldn't unsee it.

Lucifer's smile softened as he looked at her. Without a word, he stepped behind Lilith's chair and reached around her, threading their fingers together.

Almost immediately, the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. The tremble in her hands disappeared.

A quiet chuckle escaped him as he rested his chin atop her head. "You're as nervous as I am?"

Lilith released a long sigh. "Of course I am."

There was no attempt to deny it.

Her fingers tightened around his. "We're marrying her."

The words alone were enough to make both of them smile.

Lilith shook her head softly. "I'm excited and nervous and—"

Lucifer leaned down and pressed a kiss against her cheek before she could finish. "I know how you feel, honey."

For a moment, he simply stayed there, his cheek brushing against her hair. "Not being able to see her all day has my brain overthinking everything."

Lilith let out a small laugh. "Yes, I've been hearing you whine about it the entire day."

Lucifer gasped dramatically. His hand flew to his chest as though she'd stabbed him. "Whine?"

"You heard me."

"I was expressing my completely valid emotional distress."

"You complained because Charlie wouldn't send you pictures. You asked her what - twelve times?"

"Thirteen."

She stared.

Lucifer shrugged. "I was committed."

The laugh that escaped her this time was brighter. The sound eased something inside his chest.

"You're no better, you know," he continued, "I distinctly remember you trying to bribe Vaggie."

Lilith immediately looked away. "I was not bribing her."

"You offered her an entire island."

"It was a small island."

"A small kingdom, more like."

Lilith's lips twitched. "Semantics."

Lucifer shook his head in disbelief. Then, after a moment, his expression softened.

The teasing faded away. His thumb brushed gently over the back of her hand. "Anyways...I'm sure she's as nervous as we are."

"Why would I be nervous?!" You laughed so hard that one of the maids nearly poked you in the eye with a makeup brush.

The room was bustling with activity. Several attendants moved around you, adjusting your veil, fixing your hair, and applying the final touches to your makeup. Another sat at your feet, carefully painting your nails while a third worked on your pedicure. Honestly, you felt less like a bride and more like royalty.

Actually, scratch that.

You were marrying the King and Queen of Hell.

You practically were royalty.

A content sigh escaped you as you sank deeper into the plush chair. This was amazing. People were bringing you snacks, helping you get dressed, and fussing over every tiny detail while you did absolutely nothing. If this was what being a royal bride felt like, you could get used to it very quickly.

Across the room, Bee and Ozzie exchanged amused glances.

There was a reason they liked you.

"You're seriously not nervous?" Bee asked, watching as a maid carefully adjusted one of the jewels woven into your hair.

You blinked at her. "No?"

The answer came so naturally that both she and Ozzie immediately started laughing.

You looked between them, confused by their reactions. "What?"

"It's your wedding," Ozzie pointed out.

"Exactly."

"You should be nervous."

"Why?"

Bee threw her hands into the air. "Because you're about to walk down an aisle and commit yourself to two incredibly powerful immortals for the rest of eternity!"

You considered that for a moment. Then shrugged. "Sounds pretty great to me."

That only made them laugh harder.

Honestly, you couldn't understand what was so strange about your reaction. This wasn't some arranged marriage. This wasn't a decision you'd been forced into. You loved Lucifer and Lilith more than words could describe.

You were getting married to the loves of your life!

The thought sent a rush of excitement through your chest.

Your smile widened as you glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The gown was beautiful. The veil was beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

And soon you'd finally get to see them.

God, you couldn't wait. You were so ready for this. Ready to walk down the aisle. Ready to promise forever.

And all you could think was that the ceremony wasn't starting nearly fast enough.

Eventually, Bee checked the time and let out a quiet groan. "We should probably make sure everything is actually ready."

Ozzie nodded in agreement. "We'll only be gone for a minute."

"I'll be fine." You reassured them.

Her eyes narrowed. That was exactly the sort of sentence people said before causing trouble.

"You promise?"

"Bee."

"I'm serious."

Finally, you sighed dramatically. "I promise I won't sneak out."

"I didn't say anything about sneaking out."

"Because that's obviously what you're worried about."

Ozzie snorted. "She's got you there."

Bee ignored him. "You are not leaving this room."

"I'm not leaving this room."

"You are not trying to find Lucifer."

You looked offended. "Why would I do that?"

Both of them stared at you.

"..."

"..."

"Okay, that's fair."

Ozzie barked out a laugh.

There had already been at least three intercepted attempts to obtain information about you.

Needless to say, nobody trusted him.

Or you, for that matter.

Because if Lucifer somehow managed to sneak into the bridal suite, there was a very real chance you'd simply shrug and let him stay. Nobody was concerned about Lilith, somehow the perfect angel in the Sins' eyes. If only you could tell them what she got up to...

You cleared your throat. "I'll survive, go."

Before leaving, Bee glanced back one last time. "If Lucifer appears, yell."

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Mom."

Bee gasped in outrage. Ozzie immediately started laughing as he dragged her into the hallway.

Finally. A few minutes of peace.

The maids had finished most of their work and were busy cleaning up brushes, powders, and various beauty products scattered around the room. Nobody paid much attention as you unlocked your screen.

Your notifications were a disaster.

The first messages were from Charlie and Vaggie. You smiled as you opened them.

Charlie: Everything is going great! Everyone's seated! Nobody's fighting! This is the best day ever!!!

Charlie: Okay, one person is fighting but we're handling it.

Charlie: Never mind, it's two people.

Vaggie: Everything is under control.

Charlie: IT'S THREE PEOPLE.

You laughed.

Poor Vaggie. She deserved a medal, or several.

Next came messages from Husk, Cherri, and Angel. The moment you opened the chat, you knew exactly what kind of nonsense awaited you.

Husk: Bar's stocked.

Angel: When I say stocked, I mean STOCKED💦

Cherri: If ya wanna get absolutely smashed tonight, we've got ya covered.

A picture followed. It appeared to be an alarming quantity of alcohol.

You didn't even want to know how much money had gone into that collection.

Angel: Also we got a getaway car ready if ya get cold feet.

Cherri: Fastest one we could steal.

Husk: Acquire.

Cherri: Same thing.

You snorted. Absolutely ridiculous. As if you were getting cold feet. You'd been counting down the days until this wedding.

If anything, you were more likely to kidnap your own fiancés and drag them to the altar yourself.

Shaking your head, you continued scrolling.

More messages. More congratulations. More well wishes.

Then your thumb paused.

A familiar group chat appeared on your screen - you, Lilith and Lucifer.

Immediately, your smile widened.

The chat was buried beneath a mountain of unread messages because Ozzie had blocked the group from receiving anything for the last several hours.

Apparently, after Lucifer's twelfth attempt, Ozzie had decided drastic measures were necessary.

You opened the chat anyway. The last message was from -

"Lily?!" you gasped as Lilith sneaked in your room, "How did you get in here?"

There was absolutely no way Bee and Ozzie had allowed this.

You were still trying to solve that mystery when a realization struck you. Lilith hadn't answered; hadn't even seemed to register your question.

She was simply staring. All you could feel was her gaze.

Your breath caught. You felt heat rush into your cheeks. "Lily?"

"You are..."

Her voice faltered. Which was perhaps the most shocking thing of all, because Lilith always knew what to say.

The smile on your face softened. "You okay?"

Lilith shook her head.

"I think," she said quietly, "that I had a speech prepared."

You blinked. "A speech?"

"I spent days thinking about what I would say when I saw you."

You took a step closer, "And now?"

"Now I've forgotten all of it."

The heat that flooded your cheeks was immediate and impossible to ignore.

Instinctively, you reached for your veil, fingers fumbling behind your head as though the delicate fabric could somehow shield you from the intensity of Lilith's gaze.

Resist.

Resist.

Resist.

The words repeated in your mind like a prayer. A completely useless prayer.

Because Lilith was standing in your bridal suite looking at you as though she'd discovered the most beautiful thing in existence.

You swallowed. "Umm..."

Smooth. Very smooth.

"I'm glad to see you, Lily, but Ozzie and Bee will be back soon."

Lilith looked amused. "That's alright."

There was a particular glint in her eyes that instantly made you suspicious. "I got them tangled up with their boyfriends."

You blinked. For a moment, you genuinely thought you'd misheard her. "What?"

Lilith's smile deepened. It was a dangerous smile. The kind she wore whenever she'd successfully outsmarted someone. "If I can't negotiate with them, their boyfriends are more than willing to keep them distracted."

"Oh my God." A laugh escaped you. You shook your head. "How cunning."

The compliment clearly pleased her.

A knowing smile touched her lips. "I think you like my cunning."

"I love everything about you."

The space between you disappeared. Later, neither of you would be able to remember who moved first.

The kiss stole the breath from your lungs. One of your hands found her shoulder while the other tangled lightly in her hair. Lilith's arm slipped around your waist, drawing you closer until there wasn't a sliver of space left between you.

Lilith’s tongue teased yours, drawing a low moan from your throat that she swallowed eagerly. Her hands never stopped moving, gripping your hips as she walked you backward across the room.

Your legs bumped the edge of an antique loveseat. "Lily."

"Yes, darling?"

"We are definitely going to get caught."

"Probably." The fact that she sounded completely unconcerned made you laugh again.

“Down you go, darling,” she purred. She gave you a gentle but firm push. You sank onto the cushions, heart racing.

She sank to her knees before you. Her hands gathered the voluminous layers of your elaborate wedding gown, lifting it with surprising ease—only the shifting fabric and the sudden warmth of her breath against your bare thighs betrayed her presence.

You gasped as her palms smoothed up your legs, pushing them further apart. Cool air hit your exposed core for only a second before Lilith’s hot mouth was on you.

Her tongue dragged slowly up your slit, savoring you, before circling your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes. A muffled, pleased hum vibrated against your pussy as she tasted you properly.

“Fuck— Lily…” you moaned, your head falling back against the loveseat.

The thick layers of the gown hid her completely, making the sensations even more intense. You couldn’t see her, only feel the wicked work of her tongue and lips as she devoured you. She licked and sucked with expert precision—long, slow drags followed by quick flicks over your swollen clit, then dipping lower to push her tongue inside you.

Your hands fisted the fabric of your gown, bunching it up as your hips rolled helplessly against her mouth. Lilith responded by gripping your thighs firmly, holding you open while she feasted.

She was relentless. Every time you whimpered or moaned her name, she doubled down—sucking your clit between her lips and flicking it rapidly with the tip of her tongue until your legs started to tremble.

The antique loveseat creaked beneath you as your body tensed, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

You were panting, biting your lip to try and stay quiet, but it was getting harder by the second.

Just as you felt yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, you managed to gasp out a weak protest. “Lilith… wait—” you breathed, voice strained. “We’ll be late to our own wedding if you keep this up… we have the wedding night to—”

Lilith didn’t falter for even a second. If anything, she pressed her mouth more firmly against your dripping pussy, sucking your clit harder as her tongue flicked rapidly. Her muffled reply came up from beneath the fabric, husky and dripping with wicked amusement. “I can have you twice then, hmm?”

“How greedy…” you gasped. The sheer confidence and hunger in her voice made you chuckle breathlessly, the sound quickly melting into a deep, needy moan as she pushed you right back toward the brink.

Your thighs clamped around her head beneath the gown, hips jerking uncontrollably against her mouth.

Lilith didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she slowed her movements, becoming gentler, more tender. Her tongue gave long, soothing strokes along your sensitive folds, easing you down from the high.

You slumped back against the loveseat, chest heaving as you tried desperately to catch your breath.

Then you heard footsteps approached the door, both you and Lilith froze.

"Oh, shit." The words had barely left your mouth before the handle began to turn.

You sat ramrod straight, trying your best to look normal.

The door swung fully open and there stood Lucifer. You sighed in relief.

The moment he saw you, his entire face lit up. It was almost unfair. "Oh." The word escaped him quietly.

You felt your cheeks warm.

Lucifer took a step inside.

His gaze never left you. "Love, you look..."

His hand pressed against his chest. "You look incredible."

Your heart immediately melted.

Lucifer shook his head. "No, incredible isn't right."

"Words have failed me."

"Lucifer—" Why wasn't Lilith getting out of there? This was about to get really awkward.

"I'm serious."

Lucifer let out a dramatic sigh. "Honestly, nothing compares."

"Lucifer."

"I'm apologizing in advance, by the way."

You blinked. "For what?"

"For entering without permission. But in my defense, it wasn't entirely my fault—" Then Lucifer stopped his ramblings suddenly and narrowed his eyes as he got a closer look at your face.

You felt a bead of sweat form.

"Wait. I know that expression."

Your heart immediately began pounding. You forced out a nervous chuckle. "What expression?" You had no idea why you were acting like you had something to hide.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted over your flushed cheeks, your slightly parted lips, and the way your chest was still rising and falling a little too quickly. A slow, knowing grin began to spread across his face.

“That glow,” he murmured, almost reverently. “You think I wouldn't know? As if I haven't spent countless times putting that expression on your face.”

He took another step forward.

“Lucifer—” you started, voice cracking.

Before you could say anything else, you felt Lilith’s hands slowly slide up your thighs beneath the heavy layers of the gown. Your entire body jolted.

Her breath ghosted hot against your still-sensitive pussy. Then her tongue — slow, deliberate, and utterly shameless — dragged lazily through your folds again.

You bit down hard on your lip to stifle a moan, fingers digging into the velvet cushions.

Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up. “Darling? You okay?”

“Y-Yes! Perfectly fine!” you squeaked, a little too high-pitched.

Under the gown, Lilith chuckled silently against your skin, the vibration making your hips twitch. She gave your clit a soft, teasing suck, clearly enjoying your struggle to keep a straight face.

Lucifer tilted his head, that mischievous grin widening. “You know… you’re looking exceptionally radiant right now. Almost like someone already got a head start on the wedding night.” He tapped his chin.

He took one more step closer, eyes sparkling with amusement and growing heat. “Lily,” he called out lightly, voice laced with laughter, “you can come out now. I can see the dress moving. Haven't you teased our soon-to-be bride enough?"

A few moments later, Lilith emerged from under the skirts, lips glistening, cheeks flushed, and a very satisfied smirk on her face.

“Still breathing, darling?” she teased softly, “You look absolutely ravishing when you come for me.”

You huffed in mock-anger, though the effect was ruined by the way your voice still trembled and your cheeks burned. “You are both impossible,” you grumbled.

As you tried to catch your breath, still flushed and hazy from your orgasm, you noticed the way Lucifer’s gaze had darkened. The queen had taken part in the feast, so how could the king resist?

You knew exactly what your fiancé was thinking.

“Oh no you don’t—” you started, half-laughing, half-protesting as you tried to escape. You twisted on the loveseat, turning over, gripping the curved wooden arms for leverage as you attempted to crawl away.

It was a very half-hearted escape.

Lucifer’s hands were on your waist in an instant. He pulled you right back against him with a low, delighted chuckle, your back pressing flush to his chest.

“Going somewhere, my love?” he murmured against your ear, voice rich with amusement and heat. His fingers dug into your hips through the layers of silk and lace, holding you in place. “After Lily got to enjoy such a sweet appetizer? That hardly seems fair.”

You shivered as he kissed the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

Lucifer’s hands slid lower, gathering handfuls of your skirts and slowly dragging them up the back of your thighs. You felt the cool air hit your still-sensitive, bare skin again as he pressed his growing hardness against your ass, grinding slowly.

You let out a shaky moan, gripping the arms of the loveseat tighter. “We’re going to be so late…” you protested weakly, even as you instinctively arched back into him.

“Fashionably late,” Lucifer corrected smoothly, nipping at your earlobe. One of his hands slipped beneath the bunched fabric, fingers teasing along your soaked folds.

He freed himself with a low groan and pressed the head of his cock against your slick entrance. “Forgive me, darling,” he murmured, “but I can’t wait another second.”

He thrust into you in one smooth, deep stroke, filling you completely. You cried out, gripping the arms of the loveseat as your body stretched around him.

Lucifer didn’t hold back. He set a steady rhythm, hips snapping against your ass with every thrust, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with your desperate moans.

At the same time, Lilith moved in front of you. She cupped your face with both hands, her golden eyes gleaming with wicked delight.

“Look at you,” she purred, voice dripping with teasing affection.

She leaned in and captured your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, swallowing every moan Lucifer pulled from you. When she pulled back, she trailed her lips down your jaw and latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave dark hickeys blooming across your skin.

Her hands slid down to your chest, tugging the front of your gown low enough to free your breasts, squeezing and kneading them as her thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples

Lucifer growled, one hand tightening on your hip while the other reached around to rub your clit in tight circles.

“Fuck— you’re clenching around me so perfectly,” he groaned, pounding into you harder. “Taking me so well, our beautiful bride…”

You were lost in the overwhelming rhythm of Lucifer thrusting deep inside you when a sudden, hazy realization cut through the pleasure: Lilith had been devouring you earlier and teasing you relentlessly, but she hadn’t come yet.

That simply wouldn’t do.

With a needy, determined sound, you shifted forward on your hands and knees, reaching for her. You grabbed Lilith’s hips and pulled her closer. She didn’t resist at all — instead, she let out a pleased, surprised laugh and eagerly moved with you, spreading her thighs wider.

“Needy little bride,” she purred, voice husky with arousal.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you tugged her panties aside with impatient fingers and buried your face between her thighs, dragging your tongue hungrily up her soaked folds.

Lilith moaned beautifully, one hand sinking into your hair as she held you against her. She was dripping wet, sweet and addictive on your tongue. You licked and sucked at her clit with the same fervor she’d shown you earlier, sliding your tongue inside her before focusing back on that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck… yes, just like that,” she gasped, hips rolling against your mouth.

Behind you, Lucifer’s rhythm faltered for a moment as he watched the scene unfold. The sight of both of you made him groan deeply, the sound raw and filthy.

“Fucking hell…” he breathed, his grip on your hips tightened almost bruisingly as he started fucking you deeper, clearly losing some of his usual control. “That’s our perfect girl.”

Every powerful thrust from Lucifer pushed your mouth firmer against Lilith’s pussy, making her moan louder. She kept one hand tangled in your hair, guiding you.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Lilith praised breathlessly, her golden eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “You’re going to make me come all over that pretty face.”

You devoured Lilith with renewed hunger, sucking her clit between your lips and flicking your tongue rapidly while sliding two fingers deep inside her, curling them just the way you knew she loved. At the same time, Lucifer pounded into you harder, his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you with every stroke, his fingers rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit.

Lilith’s thighs began to tremble around your head, grinding against your mouth, her fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair.

Lucifer's hips snapped forward with sharp, deep thrusts, burying himself to the hilt again and again. “You feel too fucking good… both of you like this— I can’t hold back.”

You moaned loudly against Lilith’s clit, the vibrations pushing her right to the edge. Her back arched, eyes fluttering shut as she cried out.

Lilith came first with a beautiful, broken moan, her pussy clenching hard around your fingers as she flooded your tongue with her release. You kept licking her through it, greedy for every drop.

The sight and sound of Lilith coming on your face finally broke Lucifer. With a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into you one last time and came hard, pulsing deep inside you as his hips jerked with every thick spurt. His fingers dug into your waist, holding you flush against him while he filled you.

For a long moment, the only sounds were heavy breathing and soft, satisfied whimpers.

Lilith gently stroked your hair, still trembling slightly as she caught her breath. Lucifer leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your back, his cock still buried inside you as he placed lazy kisses along your spine.

“Seven Hells…” Lucifer murmured, voice hoarse. “You’re going to be the death of us.”

Lilith laughed breathlessly, cupping your flushed, glistening face. “And what a way to go.”

You were still shaking between them, thoroughly used and glowing with pleasure, your wedding gown a wrinkled, disheveled mess.

Eventually, Charlie discovered exactly what had happened, and neither Lucifer nor Lilith escaped the consequences. The two of them stood side by side while Charlie delivered a thoroughly deserved scolding, looking remarkably like children caught causing trouble rather than the rulers of Hell. Bee and Ozzie watched with undisguised amusement, clearly enjoying every second of their downfall. Meanwhile, you were utterly incapable of participating because you were unable to stand at all. Curled up on the couch, you could only watch as your future spouses endured their punishment, neither of them looking particularly apologetic. In fact, the occasional smug glance they exchanged suggested they considered the entire ordeal well worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you chose your own dress cuz imagine if you let the lucilith go overboard and let them choose the dress on the wedding:

Lilith: money is no issue, our fiancée needs the BEST

The boutique owner: then i know the PERFECT gown for the bride!

*shows this beautiful monstrosity*

Lucifer:

i would be tripping on this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dividers by @anitalenia @rmstitanics

[thatgirlmendo]

In Want of Absolution (#10)

Pairing: Alastor/Alastor’s Shadow/ Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Kiss Me, Radio Man!

Making your way down the corridor, you followed your shadow guide all the way to the stairs leading toward the broadcast room.

“Ugh, all the way up there?” you complained lightly, already eyeing the seemingly endless climb. “Mind giving me a little help?”

The shadow brightened immediately at the request.

In an instant smoky tendrils curled around your waist as it swept you up into its arms, carrying you effortlessly upward through the darkened stairwell. You laughed softly as the world blurred around you.

Of course Alastor would make his radio room annoyingly tedious to get to.

Who needed three separate flights of stairs just to reach one room? Not everyone could travel by shadow.

The shadow finally settled you carefully outside the door. Above it hung the glowing sign: OFF AIR.

You knocked softly.

At first there was nothing.

Then suddenly the sound of hurried rustling from inside. Papers shuffling. Drawers slamming.

“Alastor?” you called gently, fingers resting against the door handle. You did not want to intrude, but you also did not particularly want to stand awkwardly in the hallway forever either.

Pushing the door open slightly, you blinked at the sight waiting inside. The room was a disaster. Papers littered nearly every surface and covered portions of the floor in uneven piles. Half written broadcasts sat tangled between old notes, and scraps of parchment. It looked less like the carefully composed domain of The Radio Demon and more like the aftermath of some frantic spiral.

Still… perhaps he had a method to the madness?

Turning toward you abruptly, Alastor looked wild eyed. His arms were full of letters he was currently attempting and failing to shove into an already overflowing drawer.

“Sorry for… interrupting,” you murmured, your gaze trailing from his face to the piles and piles of envelopes around the room.

“I, ah… cher.”

The letters in his arms dissolved quickly into shadow as he straightened himself up, smoothing himself back into composure.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he said, smile returning just a touch too quickly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I…”

You stopped yourself suddenly. Why had you come up here? Was it the alcohol warming your chest? The conversations downstairs loosening old fears from your bones? Or had you simply wanted to see him after days of carefully dancing around one another?

“I was just…” You swallowed softly. “Missing you.”

Warmth immediately crept across your cheeks at the confession. But if you were apparently on some sort of honesty kick lately, then you supposed he deserved honesty during the softer moments too. You had missed him.

His sharp brow softened almost instantly, the tension in his face loosening into something so openly relieved that it made your heart ache a little.

Perhaps he had expected you to come here only to reprimand him again.

Smiling softly, you wandered further into the room while he attempted to regain some semblance of composure behind you. Your eyes drifted over the clutter scattered across every surface.

And then your gaze caught on something familiar. Your name. It peeked out from beneath a stack of letters nearly half a metre high. Your steps slowed.

“Alastor… what is this?”

You moved toward the pile instinctively, reaching for the top envelope just as he crossed the room far too quickly.

“Truly, it’s nothing, amour.”

In his haste to stop you, his claw caught awkwardly against the towering stack. The entire thing toppled over. Letters spilled everywhere. Across the desk. The floor. Falling around your feet like leaves in the fall.

Every single envelope bore your name. Your breath caught.

“Wha… what are these?”

For perhaps the first time since you had reunited with him, Alastor looked genuinely embarrassed. A faint flush dusted across his face as he glanced away from you, one clawed hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“I did tell you I was going rather insane, cher.”

Slowly, you bent down and picked one stack up. 1942. Another was dated 1965. Yet another, 1997.

Your stomach twisted. The letters had been haphazardly bundled together by year with worn rubber bands, stacked into uneven towers throughout the room. There had to be nearly a hundred of them. Maybe more.

A century’s worth of longing sitting quietly in front of you. Your chest tightened painfully. Years and years of them. Day after day. Decade after decade.

Hands almost trembling now, you carefully unfolded one of the older letters. The paper was worn soft with age. Inside were lines written in his unmistakable handwriting. His very real confessions of grief. Loneliness and desperation. It’s pages filled with apologies he could never give you and aching accounts of how violently he missed you.

Some seemed almost angry. Others seemed mournful. Some of the more heartbreaking ones were barely coherent with heartbreak, letters smudged with oceans of tears.

And all of them were addressed to you. Your eyes lifted slowly back toward him.

“Alastor…”

His smile faltered at the edges then, suddenly looking far smaller than the Radio Demon ever should.

“I had nowhere else to put it all,” he admitted quietly. “Can’t exactly broadcast such things over the airwaves. Not particularly beneficial for my image.”

Something in your chest cracked wide open at that. Before you could even think better of it, you were moving.

Letters scattered beneath your feet in a rush of paper and dust as you crossed the room, disrupting years worth of carefully bottled grief in your haste.

Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. For a moment Alastor went completely still beneath you, clearly startled by the sudden embrace.

But you barely noticed. Your own eyes had already begun to sting with tears.

Your supposedly heartless man had mourned you all this time. Holed up, hidden away in the privacy of his radio tower, sat a century’s worth of heartbreak addressed lovingly in your name.

So he did have a heart after all. Slowly, almost cautiously, his arms wound around your waist in return.

“Why could you never just show me this?” you whispered tearfully against his chest. “Why hide away all the parts of you that are afraid? Why bury them beneath all the things that scare me instead?”

Your fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his coat as another shaky breath left you.

“Why do you bury every good thing in you beneath all the bad, Alastor?”

For once, there was no clever answer waiting on his tongue. No grin sharp enough to deflect the question.

When you finally looked up at him, his expression had softened into something quietly sorrowful.

“I don’t know, cher,” he admitted softly.

And for some reason that hurt more than if he had tried to joke his way around it.

Settling your head back against his chest, you let yourself melt into the warmth of him. More than you had in the bayou. More than you had allowed yourself to since finding him again.

You became acutely aware of the way he held himself stiffly, like he still did not quite know what to do with this type of tenderness after all these years. Yet little by little his arms tightened around you anyway, carefully pulling you closer as though he could not help himself.

You inhaled softly, breathing him in.

“I don’t think you’re entirely broken, Alastor,” you whispered.

A quiet chuckle rumbled faintly in his chest beneath your cheek.

“I fear you’ve been spending far too much time with the princess, my dear.” His voice softened around the edges despite himself. “If you are planning to redeem me, I’m afraid that simply will not do.”

But he did not let you go when he said it.

“You don’t know that,” you murmured quietly against him. “It’s not like it’s all bad up there, is it?”

Alastor gave a soft huff at that, something almost weary slipping into his expression.

“I believe it would take an exceptionally long time to undo all that I have unraveled,” he admitted. “And at the moment, I am rather focused on atoning for the sins committed against my wife.”

“Stop calling me that,” you complained, though there was no real bite behind it. “You never actually married me. We just told everyone we did.”

That made him pause. The amusement faded from his face for only a moment, replaced with regret.

“I know,” he said softly.

And the sigh that followed felt strangely heavy between the two of you.

“I suppose I did a rather poor job keeping up my side of things, didn’t I?”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him properly, catching the vulnerable flicker in his eyes before he could bury it again beneath his smile.

“You always cared more about appearances than how you got there,” you teased gently, a small smirk tugging at your mouth. One of his brows lifted immediately.

“Are you truly choosing now to launch these attacks?” he asked dramatically. “I am already feeling sufficiently exposed as is. Between my nonsensical mourning letters and your newfound enthusiasm for emotional honesty, must I also be raked over the coals for my earthly shortcomings?”

Despite yourself, you laughed softly. Tugging him closer, suddenly overcome by a rush of raw aching want, you became sharply aware of the warmth of your own body pressed against his once more.

This… this felt the same as Earth. The same dizzy pull. The same magnetic ache that always seemed to draw you back toward him. And it made you wonder… What else felt the same?

Rising onto your tiptoes, you tried to tug him down toward you by the waist, seeking to grind him against you. Unfortunately, Hell had gifted him quite a bit of height since the last time you had done this and you found yourself barely reaching his lower chest.

A low grunt rumbled from him. And his eyes were wide as you ground softly against him.

“Was I a good wife Alastor?”

“Fuck…what are you playing at?” He moaned, obviously reacting the way you wanted him to at your touch.

“I asked you if I was a good wife.”

“You were-“ ah, he moans as you reach to palm him softly through his trousers. He’s already hard.

He hisses sharply when you do. And you smirk. Putty in your hands. Perfect!

You were only vaguely aware of the shadow at first, having remained mostly quiet and content in the corner while the two of you spoke.

But the moment you tried pulling Alastor closer, it suddenly perked up with startling interest.

Its eyes widened dramatically as it hopped upright, looking between the two of you with barely contained excitement. Smoky tendrils twitched rapidly behind it like an overexcited cat watching everything unfold. Little perv.

“You were, ah, perfect cher” he gasps between your palming him through his pants.

From what you could tell, height wasn’t the only thing that had…grown… in death and you were slightly worried about how to accommodate that… but where there is a will there would be a way!

Snaking your hand up into that horrendous undercut, you finally managed to tug him down into a kiss that was a century overdue.

And oh, how your bodies seemed to remember. Despite having never been with each other in this life. The heart remembered and the mind chased, trying to reconnect pieces separated by a century of grief and longing.

The kiss deepened helplessly, all warmth and breath and the quiet sounds the two of you pulled from one another.

“Would you prefer we relocate to the bedroom?” Alastor managed between kisses, his voice rougher now, strained at the edges in a way that made heat curl low in your stomach.

You actually considered it for a moment.

Between breathless kisses and soft gasps, your hands tangled tighter into his coat as his mouth wandered from your lips down toward your neck.

“Mmm… no,” you breathed softly, shivering as he nipped gently at your pulse point before soothing the spot with lingering kisses.

Your fingers curled against his chest.

“Let’s just…” You let out another shaky gasp as he kissed along your throat. “I want to take things slow.”

At that, he paused his assault immediately.

And despite the obvious want still burning behind his eyes, there was tenderness in the way his hands settled against your waist afterward.

“As you wish, cher.”

Leaning forward again, you nipped his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting go and pulling back just enough to smile against his mouth.

“Now, did I say to stop? Kiss me, radio man!”

“Oh, yes ma’am!” he murmured fondly before immediately tugging you back into another kiss.

[kill3ill]

little house in the woods | jason todd

cw: shy! reader, vigilante! jason, threats, angry jason, fingering, cum eating, smut, unprotected sex, corruption kink, pussy eating, feral jason.

synopsis: you're a sweet recluse who allows her home to be Jason's safe house. What happens when he starts to get too close to you?

The screen door creaks open late one evening. Jason Todd steps inside your little kitchen like it's a habit, almost as though he's lived here all his life. In truth, you'd only known Jason for about two months now since he came stumbling to your doorstep one stormy evening. Things seemed to pass in a blur since then.

Jason's shoulders are tense beneath the fabric of his jacket, bruised from the constant fights he participates in. His jaw is sore and his knuckles are split from punching again. He's already in one of his moods.

He kicks off his boots by the door without looking, the way he always does, listening to the familiar sound of dirty soles thunking against the wood floor. Then, he heads straight to the sink like he's on autopilot, having memorized the layout of your house like it's his own. He doesn't even need to look down to where the fluffy hand towels are as he dries his hands.

There's a plate of dinner waiting on the table that's still hot and steaming, and you're standing near the counter, looking at him like he didn't just come home covered in bruises and blood. You're smiling in the cutesy, innocent way you always do. The way that boils Jason's blood in both a bad, and really good way.

"Hi, Jay," you say, your voice smooth like honey as you look up at him with big, sparkly eyes, like he's just your husband coming home late from work.

Jason swears under his breath and marches through the kitchen, hovering around you for a moment, before muttering a gruff "Hello." in return, slumping down into his usual seat at the dinner table, looking down at tonight's meal.

The plate's got roast chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and a pile of vegetables on the side. It's very balanced. It looks like food you'd see in a magazine with a recipe underneath. You cooked. Again. Like you do every night.

"Thought you might be hungry," you say, cheeks all pink from the stove's heat, or maybe just from looking at him. You get so bashful when he stares. "You want me to get you a knife or anything else?"

"No. S' fine." he grumbles, picking up a fork to start stabbing at his vegetables. You nod, still smiling all cute as you take out a jug of lemonade for him and pour him a class without asking, setting it down beside his plate, right before leaning down to press the softest, most innocent kiss to his cheek. Right near the cut on his jaw, his sweet spot. "Glad you're home safe."

Jason goes still at the feeling, a little grunt leaving him involuntarily. The second your lips brush over him, it's as though every muscle in his body tenses. His eyes flick to you, but you're already walking away, humming to yourself like you didn't screw him over with that little gesture.

What the hell are you doing, letting a guy like him into your house? Letting him sleep in the extra bedroom you cleaned just for him and eat off your table without asking for compensation? What kind of sweet, naive girl lets a man with knives and guns in his duffel bag and scars up his back and shoulders stay in her house like he's not dangerous?

"You shouldn't do that," he grumbles as you have your back turned to him, a deep scowl on his face. You blink, turning back toward him, confusion soft in your eyes. "Do what?"

"You know what I mean. The kissin'. The..." his voice gets tight, jaw ticking, "...the 'Jay' with your little giggle. Don't."

"Don't act like we're friends?' you ask, so innocently, head tilted in a way that makes him want to pounce on you. "We are friends."

Jason clenches his jaw. His fingers curl around the fork, knuckles white. "You should be more wary, is all" he mutters, frowning as you respond with a little huff and a playful eye roll, going over to check on the pies you made for dessert that are cooling on a rack.

He stares at the curves of your body, gaze panning from your hips, down to your thighs, and back up to your ass, plump in the cute little nightgown you're wearing, with the hem riding up your thighs enough to show your panties if you bent over. He can't take his eyes off of you, not for a second. He's looking at you to figure out how someone like you could possibly be real, let alone a part of his life. You feed him. You made him a safe house with gingham curtains and a soft bed and dinner waiting on the table every night without fail.

He's coiled so tight it feels like his skin doesn't fit right, seeing you flutter around the kitchen like everything's fine, apron tied snugly around your waist. You turn and meet his gaze again as he continues.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" Jason mutters all gruff, pushing back his chair and standing. His eyes are all dark and stormy. "You let a guy like me in your house. You give me food, a bed, clothes. You let me walk around your kitchen like I belong here." He steps forward slowly. "You don't even lock your fucking door."

Your throat bobs as you swallow, but your expression doesn't change. That soft, quiet sweetness still on your face like you've never even heard a threat before.

"I don't have to lock it because the only person who comes around here is you, and I know you."

Jason's frown deepens, and he crowds your space, hissing at you coldly. "You don't know shit about me." He stares down at you, jaw clenched, breathing through his nose. He keeps coming closer and closer to you, all while you don't even realize what you're doing to him, standing there in your cozy little kitchen, smelling like a dessert.

His body pushes you back into the counter, his jaw is clenched and lips twisted in a snarl. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, his voice rising. "You let me in here. You open your house up to someone like me and think I'm not gonna hurt you? You think I'm just gonna be your lil' prince charming?"

He shoves his hand against the counter beside you, trapping you in place. His face is inches from yours, but this time, you don't see the same tired, frustrated guy you've been taking care of. This time, all you see is the threat, the dangerous man who doesn't think you should have trusted him at all.

"I could strangle you, you know," he says all soft. His hand shoots out, quick and brutal, grabbing your neck just below your chin. "You think I wouldn't do it? You think I wouldn't snap your neck like a twig if I wanted to?"

Your pulse spikes. His grip isn't tight enough to suffocate you, just enough to make your heart pound harder. "Or what if I wanted to cut you?" His thumb presses into the side of your neck. he's learned you can make someone pass out if you push there hard and long enough. wouldn't take long if he did it to you, though. another reminder of how fragile you really are. "What if I wanted to steal everything in your house and leave you with nothing?"

You look up at him, whimpering softly at the feeling of his huge hand wrapping around your throat. Your smaller one grabs at his wrist, staring up at him with big, glassy eyes. "J-jason..."

"What if I wanted to tear off one of those flimsy lil' dresses you wear around me and fuck you?" He lets out a low mumble, tipping your head up and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. "You think they're cute, huh? You think I don't notice the way you dress like 'm not gonna want to tear you apart?"

Your breath hitches, and for a second, you can't find your words. He's crowding you now, pinning you to the counter so you have no way out. His thumb pushes harder on your lower lip.

You stare at him, your face flushed. Your chest is rising fast now, like you're trying to keep calm, like your body's betraying you even if your voice hasn't cracked yet. You're not saying anything, but your fear's loud enough without words.

Jason's still holding onto your throat, the heel of his hand digging into your pressure point while his thumb smushes against your soft lips. His chest heaves with each breath, his face twisted up even though deep down, he's thoroughly enjoying himself. He relishes in the slight tremble your body gives and the way you look up at him like you're starting to realize he's not savable.

He leans down to your level. "You scared now, sweetheart?" he mutters. You try to speak, but it catches in your throat. He can feel it under his hand, that flutter in your pulse. "Yeah," he breathes. "That's what I thought."

He tilts his head, leaning down to slot his mouth over your cheek, mocking the little kisses you always give him when he's home. He moans against your skin, starting to press sloppy kisses down to your jaw. He's done holding back, finally indulging in the terrible, heinous thoughts he's had about you since you let him into your home.

His hands roam under your dress, hiking it up to squeeze the globes of your ass, all while you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut.

He kisses up the side of your throat and up to your ear, huffing low so you hear every bit of how hot he is for you. "Lemme show you what bad men do to pretty girls who play house with 'em."

his hands move again. they don't stay in place for long. he's very unpredictable. one moves back to grip on your throat, while the other hand drags up the back of your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your nightgown until his rough fingers find bare skin. his breathing is ragged now, lips pressed to the curve of your neck like he's trying to inhale you.

"You smell s'sweet," he growls, nose brushing the soft skin beneath your jaw. "Always smell so fuckin' sweet."

He's spreading you apart before your brain can comprehend it, lifting you up with his free hand to guide you up onto the counter, manhandling you like you weigh nothing. Slotting his body between your legs, he looks down at your pretty cotton panties. Just as adorable as you, all lacy and pastel like you didn't have a clue what they'd do to him.

Jason huffs a breath through his nose, low and unsteady, staring at the soaked little patch in the middle. "Fuck," he mutters, dragging his thumb over the wet spot slowly and teasingly. "Look at this. You want me like this." His hand grips your thigh to keep you open, his gaze locked on your panties as he takes two fingers and pushes them up against your panties so he can trace your plump little pussy through the fabric, firm enough to make you twitch.

You jolt, grabbing onto his shoulder while your tummy flips. "Mmh... i-its good... b-but 'm sensitive..." you warn softly, trying to fight against his grip ever so slightly, but he keeps you spread for him with his firm hand. Your breath catches when he starts tugging your panties to the side, baring the warm air of the kitchen onto your even warmer hole.

His hand grips your hip, anchoring you in place while he teases your entrance with the pads of his fingers, just barely pressing in. You let out a strangled little sound, back arching as he slowly presses a finger inside you with a low groan. Your body clenches around him and it makes him twitch, a guttural sound leaving his chest. "Fuck, you're tight," he mutters, nose nuzzling yours. "So fuckin' warm. This pussy's been waiting for me, hasn't she?" You nod helplessly, eyes wide, lips parted as he pumps his finger inside you slow and filthy. He watches you fall apart for him, cheeks flushed and pretty little moans leaving your mouth with every curl of his finger.

His thick digit curls just right inside you, slow and deep, while his thumb rubs circles around your clit, not too quick, just firm and steady like he's testing how fast he can get you to fall apart. You whimper again, your hips rolling into his hand without thinking.

He watches the little faces you make while you're in heat like this, as well as the way your body reacts to his touch. His eyes are locked on the place where his finger disappears inside you with that delicious squelch, and once you're relaxed, he slides in a second to fill you up even more. You jerk, nightgown bunching up more at your waist as he shoves his fingers deep inside you, wanting to see how tight you can squeeze around them.

"Damn," he mumbles, "You're squeezin' the fuck outta me." His free hand grabs your thigh harder when you flinch back, nails digging just a little into your flesh to keep you still and wide open for him. He leans in, breathing heavy against your cheek as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit while his fingers keep stroking inside you, that slow, steady rhythm that's driving you crazy because it's just enough to have you trembling, but not enough to tip you over.

You whine out a soft "Jay," all desperate and teary eyed, your grip on his shoulders tightening as your legs start to shake. You don't even realize you're grinding down onto his hand until he growls, "Yeah… that's it. Use your words. You need it that bad, don't you?"

He keeps his face close to yours, eyes flicking between your mouth and your eyes, watching how dazed you look already, lips all swollen and wet from how much you've been panting. "Feels 's good! M-more..." You whine, your body starting to move on its own, hips rolling into his hand, trying to chase the pressure that's curling in your gut.

Jason doesn't let up. He just keeps fucking you with his fingers, deep and slow, his thumb pressed firm to your clit, working you in tight little circles until your legs are twitching and your mouth is open like you're gasping for air.

"You're already gonna cum, huh?" he murmurs, voice low and thick. "Already cryin' on my fingers like a needy little thing." You nod, head falling back against the cabinet behind you, your breath coming in short, desperate little bursts. " 'M gonna...Jay, I...I'm gonna..."

"Come, then," he orders, eyes locked on yours. "Cum on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how sweet this fuckin' pussy is."

You shatter around him body locking up tight before it all melts down at once, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you can't even stay upright without holding onto him. Your whole body trembles and he watches it all, jaw clenched, eyes dark and blown wide with how fucked he is for you.

He keeps his fingers inside you even after, not pulling out until you're twitching too much to take it, and even then, he pulls back slow, glancing down at the mess he made of you. He brings his fingers to his mouth without even thinking, licking them clean while he keeps his eyes on your face.

Then he leans in, mumbling in your ear. "You made a mess on my hand,"

Jason's gaze drops down to the tent in his jeans, thick and straining against the zipper, and he lets out a breath that sounds more like a growl.

"Take my cock out," he says roughly, eyes never leaving yours. Your fingers tremble a little as they reach for his belt, heart hammering in your chest while you work it loose, the clink of the buckle loud in the quiet kitchen. Jason's eyes are burning into your face the whole time, watching the way you fumble a little, the way your lips part and your breathing gets uneven while you tug his belt free, then pop open the button on his jeans.

You slide the zipper down slow, hands shaking just the tiniest bit, but you don't stop.

He helps you just enough to shove his jeans down his hips, groaning softly when you reach into his briefs and wrap your fingers around him. He's thick and hot and already leaking against your palm, and the second you touch him, his whole body stiffens.

"Jesus," he mumbles, chest rising and falling hard. You glance up at him through your lashes, a little dazed and shy, but your hand stays wrapped around him as you stroke him once, then twice, making his head fall forward, forehead bumping into yours while he groans.

He looks into your eyes, his voice all rough and shaking with how close he is to snapping. "You're gonna do it, alright? Not me." he says, jaw clenched. "You're gonna show me how dirty you are, and take me in your hand, and you're gonna line me up with that sweet little pussy like this was your fuckin' idea."

You nod even though you're buzzing and feel your body burning, and he watches you slowly wrap your hand snugly around his cock, his face close to yours as you guide him between your legs.

"Yeah," he mumbles, watching your face. "Just like that." You whimper when the head of his cock bumps against your entrance, slick and warm, and Jason moans low in his throat at the feel of you, the head of him just barely pushing inside.

Your fingers tremble as you line the head of him up with your entrance, glancing up at him as you press him against your folds. "It's so hard," you whisper, all breathless. "Your cock..."

"I know," He responds, watching you continue to guide him, soaked folds parting around the flushed head, barely nudging it in just enough for both of you to feel that first slide. " 's... fuck... c-cause I want you s'bad." He hunches over you a little, mouth hanging open as you finally line him up just right. His tip catches on your soaked entrance and he groans deeply, forehead pressing to yours again like he's trying to stay tethered to something.

He pants, grinding the head against you, not pushing in all the way yet, smearing your wetness all over the flared head of his cock while your thighs twitch around his hips. You make a tiny noise, all high and breathy, and he grins against your cheek. His nose brushes your temple while he shifts his hips just enough for his tip to nudge inside, slow and heavy. "Fuck... there we go, sweetness. 'S suckin me in now."

He grabs your thigh with his free hand, pushing it up until your knee's hooked over his forearm, giving him more room, more access, more of you. He doesn't push all the way in yet, just slides in a few inches, slow and aching, just enough to make your mouth drop open and your nails bite into his shoulders.

"Keep lookin' at me," he hisses. "Don't you dare look away. You let me in, shit... now you're gonna watch what I do to you."

Your eyes flutter open again, all teary and glassy and overwhelmed, and he groans and thrusts in deeper, hips jerking forward like he can't help it anymore, burying himself with a low, breathless curse. Both hands grab your thighs to hold you wide open while his cock sinks alllll the way inside, thick and throbbing inside you.

He sinks in all the way, slow but deliberate, forcing your body to stretch and take every thick inch, and the second he bottoms out, he stays there, buried deep inside you, breathing hard through his nose like he's trying to stay composed, but he's not even close. His hands grip your thighs so tight it makes your skin dimple, holding you still like he's afraid you'll run, like he knows you're not ready for how far he's about to take this.

"Fuck, it's good," he mutters, voice wrecked as he stares down at where you're joined. "Look at that. Fuckin' swallowed me whole, didn't you?" He gives a rough roll of his hips, just enough to make you jerk and gasp under him. "Tight little pussy- already squeezin' like she wants to keep me."

Your head tips back as a choked little moan slips out, your hands clinging to his shoulders now, nails dragging across his back without thinking. He groans, fucking into you harder now, faster. Your body jerks with the impact of his rough thrust, and he moans, loud and low against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bites down like an animal.

He keeps fucking into you with rapid, punishing thrusts, his body bracketed over yours, your legs forced wide apart so he can get deeper. You moan loudly, not bothering to hold back on being responsive. You're slicing into his back with your nails, mewling and panting his name harshly.

He growls at the pleasure pain you give him, rutting into you harder, like the sound of his name like that flipped some switch in him. "Say it again," he pants. "Say my fuckin' name."

You do, a little louder this time, all breathless and shaking. "Jason, mmh! please!"

"Fuck," he bites, his whole body shuddering as he pounds into you now, hips snapping forward again and again. "You're gonna let me ruin you, huh? That what you want, sweet girl? Gonna let me fuck the good right outta you?" You nod, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, not even sure if it's from how good it feels or how deep he's inside you, but it makes him groan, deep and ragged, like he's never seen anything more perfect.

His voice is nothing but a harsh whisper now. "I ever catch you lettin' another man in this house, I swear to god-"

You cut him off with a soft little moan, too blissed out to process the threat, and Jason grunts, cock pulsing inside of you as he scrapes against your gummy inner walls. You let out a loud, high whine, clenching tight around him, and he curses under his breath, leaning forward to kiss you rough and messy, dragging his tongue across your bottom lip.

The taste of you is too much for him, and he groans loudly, grabbing onto the back of your head so he can fully suck your tongue into his mouth and buck into you faster, like a dog in a rut. "Gonna cum f'you," He grunts, tearing out of you suddenly.

You whine at the loss of the full feeling inside your belly. and he grabs onto your plush thighs again, squeezing his throbbing, flushed cock and pumping it a few times before splurting all over your pussy. You pant, heart pounding in your chest.

He cums load after load on you, before dropping onto his knees and stuffing his face into your cunt, needing you to cum for him too. He doesn't want to wait for your sensitivity or that coil to fade away, and so he thrusts his tongue deep inside your sopping hole, eating out your cunt like it's the only dessert he needs.

You scream, ecstasy washing over you so suddenly that you can't even warn him when you cum into his hot mouth, watching him eagerly drink it all up and tongue fucking you through your orgasm.

He groans at your taste once again, unable to get over how sweet you taste. He stands and scoops some of the cum off his thighs and pushes his fingers lightly to your mouth. "Open." He mutters, watching you oblige with a dazed look in your eyes. He feels his cock twitch to life once more at the sight of you tasting him and looking into his eyes like he's just ruined you, which he has. Your hair is a mess and your lips are swollen, and your lower half is soaked with his cum.

"That's my sweet girl."

see more in my dc masterlist

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[scissorhvnds]

           𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

dick grayson x reader

summary: dick had to leave in the middle of your valentine's dinner, but don't worry, he always makes it up to you!

tags: mdni, kissing, munch!dick

check out the rest of my valentine cards!

wc: 933

hours had passed since dick had left mid meal. 

a meal you had worked hard to prepare for yourself and dick, with a special dessert and a movie to end of the night. valentine's night. 

yes, he had promised that this night would be blocked off for you. and he so desperately wished he could have kept that promise. but bludhaven needed nightwing, he jumped into action the second he knew there a commotion down at the ports. 

the second one this week. 

on valentine's day for crying out loud!

you didn't blame dick for having to leave. sure, it was frustrating, but he didn't do this to you on purpose. 

it was late now. 

you had finished your meal, cleaned the apartment, and kept yourself busy for the last couple of hours — waiting for dick to return safe and sound. 

you were tired, heavy and boneless on the couch. your lids were threatening to remain closed with every blink. your book was laid open across your chest, left on the page you were forcing yourself to finish. 

you didn't even remember falling asleep. a slumber so deep that you didn't stir when your window opened and dick slithered back into the apartment. 

dick softened immediately at the sight. guilt and adoration clawing at his chest as he saw you curled up against the cushions. he knew that being nightwing impeded on your relationship — all the post-poned or rushed date nights, the long nights of silence that ended with him returning home bruised and sore weighed on you. but you remained patient and strong for him — stronger than he could ever be. 

kneeling down beside you on the floor, his fingers came up and gently caressed your cheek. he had wanted to make this night perfect, give you what you had deserved. flowers, your favourite candies, a gift, and him. he knew it wasn't enough. nothing would be enough to make up for what you had to deal with while being his — but he could try, he would try. 

he cleaned himself up quickly, not wanting to be away from you for longer than he already had been. when he was clean — hair glistening and damp from his shower, and an old gotham university paired with some low-hanging plaid pants on his body — he made his way back to you. 

moving the book off your chest and setting it on the table with your bookmark slotted between the pages was easy. bringing himself to move you was not. 

he sat down on the edge of the couch cushion, hovering his top half over you so his lips could meet your forehead. then, the bridge of your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and then finally your lips. one peck, two, three, before pressing his lips fully and deeply against yours. 

your body was attuned to his, your lips responding before your brain was fully coherent. you smiled softly into the kiss, blinking sleepily up at him. 

"you're home," your voice was laced with sleep, and dick's heart fucking melted at the sound. he nodded with a smile that melted between you. he pressed another kiss to your chin before making his way down your chest and stomach. 

you perched yourself on your elbows, watching him tug your shirt up for more access to your skin. "wait, dickie, what are you—" 

"shh, let me have this," he murmured against your stomach, his fingers dug into the fabric of your pjs, slowly pulling them down your legs. "i'm starving, sweetheart, didn't even get to finish the beautiful valentine's dinner that my gorgeous girlfriend made for me." 

his words were murmured into the crease of your hips, and quietly whispered into your inner thigh. "and i'm starving,"

"i put your dinner in the fridge, we can still have it," you whispered back breathlessly, your thigh muscles jumping around his shoulders from where he was now nestled between your legs. 

"got something else in mind," his eyes were fixated on your cloth covered core, at the wet patch that was forming on your panties. his fingers dipped into the material and tearing the material away from you as if it had personally offended him. 

before you had time to react, his hands pushed your thighs open, placing you on display for him. his mouth suctioned over your pussy, tongue dragging between your folds. it was embarassing how fast you were ready to cum — how easy it was for him to ruin you with a suck of your clit. 

he branded his apology for leaving earlier into your folds, swirling the letters against your nub at a dizzying speed. 

all you could hear was his mouth slurping, and your own whimpers that you attempted to muffle against the couch cushion. 

"'m sorry, baby, 'm sorry for leaving earlier, please forgive me." dick lifted his head, lips glistening with your juices. his eyes were hazed, and his hair was mussed from where your fingers were gripping his head in place. 

you were barely given the chance to respond again before his mouth was back on you. 

"oh fuck, dick," you practically shrieked as your high exploded through your body with a violent jump. your muscles locked and your vision went white, barely registering his own groans that were muffled by your thighs locking around his head. 

your body fell limp against the couch as he lifted himself up and flopped down on top of you. his head nudged into the crook of your neck, gently pressing soothing kisses across the skin. 

"happy valentine's day, baby," 

an: I wanted him to be more pathetic

taglist: @mollymal , @redhooduwu , @girlmeetsolivia , @athenxt , @nightlights-and-twiklingstars , @silverjaysz , @l0singctrl , @drea18881 , @calicocat-ina-tuxedo , @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger , @mrbusinessman , @starr-jazz , @nxbodysangel , @hufflepuff-n-fluff , @aliciafreedom

[brinawing-deactivated20260404]

💭 date crasher

ex!dick grayson x reader, suggestive (almost smut but im scared of the real thing sooo yea), mugging, mentions of alcohol

The restaurant was lit with dim yellow lights making the warm glow from the candle the only source of light. It cast a beautiful glow over both you and your date’s face, making the ambiance that much more romantic.

You were currently on a second date –which wasn’t planned per se because you didn’t know if you even wanted a second date. But when the guy called you again and said ‘what the hell let’s celebrate valentine’s together’ and you agreed because you didn’t want to seem like a complete loser that you were.

Because you did ask him to spend it on the 13th instead of the 14th. You said you had a galentine’s evening planned as an excuse but nope. No matter how many times you tried telling yourself you didn’t miss the way Dick made you breakfast in bed every year with a cheesy card and a single red rose set nearly in a tray, you didn’t believe it.

You didn’t miss how he didn’t let you leave the bed until you had gone at least three rounds or until his mouth was swollen and red with how he refused to get his head up from between your thighs.

And you certainly didn’t miss how he took you to the most expensive restaurants –taking the day off patrol for once just so you could have the whole rooftop of the restaurant to yourselves while a musician played jazz in the dark background. How you two walked along the pier in your expensive dress and suit, eating gelato. And how Dick always picked you up in his arms bridal style just as he walked through the threshold of your house because he insisted he was practicing for the real thing.

You did NOT miss how he threw you on the bed (which had rose petals on it) and lit candles around the room while he took off your dress as languidly as he could. Because he was cheesy and he celebrated the day of love exactly the way you would expect someone like him to.

In conclusion: you did not miss Dick Grayson.

That’s why you were on a date with a perfectly nice guy. A bit on the safer side but honestly that’s what you needed, not someone who jumped off of rooftops at night.

He wasn’t as tall as Dick and had blond hair with green eyes but that was perfect for you. He brought you tulips which were perfectly fine even though your favourite flowers were red roses. It was okay, he would learn in time.

“So that’s when my boss offered me to take over the game of golf in front of our new client and I stood there stunned!” He rambled.

So he was a bit on the boring finance guy side but it’s fine. At least he made his own money and isn’t the son of Bruce Wayne.

You gave him a clipped smile and took a bite of your spaghetti.

“Excuse me,” the waiter suddenly appeared. “This is for you,” he smiled and offered you a bottle of expensive wine.

“We didn’t order wine,” you smiled politely, glancing at your date who looked just as confused as you did.

“It’s from that gentleman over there,” the waiter replied and pointed behind him to a seat where two men clad in suits sat.

One of them had his back turned towards you and the other was holding up the menu to cover his face but the second he lowered it a bit, you saw the familiar black waves of Tim fucking Drake.

Your ex boyfriend’s brother, meaning the other man most likely was the said ex boyfriend.

The waiter put the wine down and disappeared again, leaving you two alone. You clenched your jaw and tried to ignore the elephants in the room, literally.

“Do you know them?” Your date asked.

“Yeah,” you curtly replied and eyed the wine bottle. It was your favourite.

“Okay then,” your date said and began rambling about something again but your eyes didn’t leave the wine bottle.

It had been weeks of this. It had been exactly eight weeks since you and Dick broke up and he hadn’t stopped contacting you. He moved back into the manor –he refused to leave your shared apartment so you told him you would leave but since he knew you didn’t have another place, he relented. He had been tailing you, you knew he had, while he was out on patrol.

Each morning you woke up and found scrambled eggs just the way you liked, still warm sitting on your kitchen island with a glass of orange juice and your vitamin capsules. Once, you found your place perfectly vacuumed and laundry done and folded when you came home from work. He had left you flowers on your doorstep –always red roses.

He sent you memes like nothing had happened even though you never replied, he still called you constantly. Sometimes late at night after patrols –the only time you would pick up in case something bad happened and it usually did. He talked about how hard he’s been working and how everything has taken a toll on him, he said how much he missed you. And he always ended his calls with a quiet “i love you” and you never said it back. Not until he hung up and you whispered it into the darkness of the room.

Because he didn’t know that you still left space on the right side of the bed for him, that you still clung to his pillow at night. He didn’t know that you broke down once in the bathroom in case he was on a rooftop and was looking at you through the windows. You still took your coffee the way he taught you. That you still couldn’t sleep unless you were wearing his old and tattered t-shirt from when he was at Gotham Academy.

“I’ll be right back,” you said suddenly, cutting your date’s another story off before grabbing the wine bottle and advancing towards his table.

Tim put down the menu and straightened up as you approached with sharp steps like you were on a mission.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, putting the bottle in front of Dick.

“Hello to you too baby,” Dick grinned, leaning back on his chair.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” You sighed.

“Having dinner and enjoying the view,” Dick shrugged.

“And you’re encouraging him?” You huffed, turning towards Tim with your hands on your waist.

“It’s been slow,” Tim shrugged.

“What the hell are you so smug about?” You quipped at Dick who still had a shit eating grin on his face.

“You’re talking to me,” he replied.

“I’m literally cursing you.”

“You know sweetheart that’s just foreplay for us,” Dick tutted.

“Dick, please. I’m on a date. Don’t ruin this for me,” you pleaded, emphasising on every word.

“You don’t need a date, you already have a boyfriend,” Dick mentioned with a smirk.

“Can you leave, please?”

“We haven’t even ordered yet,” Tim chimed in.

“Fine, I’ll leave and he and I will go home and have sex in the bed you and I shared,” you challenged and turned around on your heels but Dick was quick to grasp your wrist.

“I’m leaving okay?” He said, all the traces of earlier amusement gone from his face.

“But I’m starving!” Tim protested.

“We’ll get a hot dog, come on,” Dick urged.

One point for you and zero for Dick.

“Sorry about that,” you apologised, sliding back into your seat.

“Was that an ex I should be worried about?” Your date inquired with a low chuckle.

“No, he is an ex for a reason. You don’t need to worry about him,” you replied curtly.

“He looks familiar,” your date muttered.

“Yeah,” you said under your breath and continued eating your pasta.

“Wait, is he one of Bruce Wayne’s sons? I’ve read about it! It was published in our magazine you should check it out, I have front pa–”

Your date was once again interrupted with your phone buzzing on the table which you were thankful for. But one glance was enough to drain your short lived joy.

It was Dick.

You ignored it and turned the phone down but it kept buzzing meaning Dick kept calling. And he wouldn’t stop until you picked up.

“What!” You muttered harshly, leaning down a bit to get some privacy.

“Hey honey,” he cheerfully greeted from the other side. “I’m getting a hot dog with Tim from that place you and I went to when you were on your period and were craving hot dogs at one in the morning.”

“Dick I swear to fucking god-”

“Keep going I’m close,” he cut you off with an exaggerated hiss.

“I will cut your balls off and feed them to birds, you complete asshole!”

“If you wanna play with my balls baby you just have to ask,” he chuckled.

“Dick Grayson!” You said louder than you anticipated when people around you started giving you glances. “Don’t call me again,” you hushed and hung up, straightening to your full height.

“Sorry I’m sorry,” you repeated your earlier words.

“Hey look,” your date began, “I don’t wanna get in between something complicated. I don’t have it in me to deal with all that, and compete with the golden boy over here so I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again,” he finished and wiped his mouth before getting up from the seat.

“Wait!” You called out, following after him.

“You’re fun and I enjoyed your company but he’s clearly still in love with you just like you are so I’m not gonna be your middle man,” he shrugged before getting into his car and driving away.

When you went back to your table, you realised the asshole didn’t even pay nor did he offer you a ride when he was the one who picked you up meaning you had to walk home because all you had in your purse was a lip gloss and your card.

“Excuse me,” you beckoned the waiter to bring the cheque.

“Your bill has already been paid, Miss,” the waiter smiled at you.

“What? When?” You asked with confusion etched on your face.

“By a Mr. Grayson?” He replied with a glance at his notepad.

“Of course it is,” you rolled your eyes and thanked the waiter before grabbing your wrap from the seat.

You didn’t even bring a coat, just this flimsy wrap which might as well have not been there.

With a light groan, you began walking home. Which was a pain in your heels but you couldn’t really pay for a cab with lip gloss.

You turned a corner to a dark alleyway where barely anyone came around because it smelled like piss and crime and Dick always told you to avoid it at all costs but you were currently freezing and wanted to be home as soon as possible.

“Hey princess,” you heard a male voice slur from behind you.

Great.

You began walking faster but it came to be futile when a hand grabbed your bare shoulder, causing you to gasp and run as fast as you could in your heels which wasn’t that far at all because the man soon caught up to you and pulled a knife out.

“I don’t want any trouble!” You declared loudly, hand going over your phone so you could speed dial Dick.

“I see what you’re doing, drop your phone princess,” the man ordered with a wicked grin.

“I don’t have any money!” You protested as you clutched your purse when you realised your hands had begun shaking.

“That’s okay, you can pay me in another way,” he grinned wider as he stepped closer, causing you to step back as your feet shook beneath you.

“Leave me alone!” You grunted as your back hit the wall.

“We will have fun,” the man laughed but it soon turned into a grunt as he fell on the ground.

Nightwing soon emerged from the shadows and stood over the man who was now quivering but he didn’t get a chance to escape as Dick began landing punches to his face.

The man soon passed out but Dick didn’t stop even after you called out his name repeatedly. He kept punching the man and you were beginning to get scared because you had never ever seen Dick like that.

You stepped forward and put your hand over his shoulder which finally made him stop as he stood up and cupped your face in his gloved hands, checking for injuries.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him as he looked you up and down.

“Are you actually kidding me?” Dick roared, louder and angrier than you’d ever seen him. “How many times have I told you not to come into this alley!”

“I was cold and I just wanted to get home!” You huffed in defence.

“And where is your date? He’s supposed to be walking you home!” Dick yelled again.

“Well thanks to you, he’s never seeing me again,” you scoffed.

“What?” Dick echoed, suddenly much calmer now. “Fuck’s sake come here,” he grumbled once he saw you shaking like a leaf.

You didn’t protest as you stepped closer and let him wrap his warm arms around your body. Dick always ran hot, the complete opposite of you who always managed to stay cold. Your lips and nails often turned blue if you were out in the cold and Dick always had to give you his jacket or envelope you in his arms while he rubbed his palms up and down your body to warm you up. Much like he was doing right now.

“He said he didn’t want to come in between something complicated,” you managed to speak against Dick’s chest.

“He might be a douche but he backed off. I respect that,” Dick chuckled.

“Dick,” you murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he replied.

“Whatever,” you sighed and straightened up, looking into the whites of his domino mask.

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured quietly with a swallow.

You two walked side by side without saying a word other than Dick occasionally straightening you up with his hand cupping your elbow each time you stumbled in your heels. Your apartment building soon came into view as Dick waved you goodbye but went behind the building to climb up the fire escape in case anyone was following him. Nightwing.

You knew he would be waiting for you when you opened the door and he was. His domino mask was off his face and sitting on the kitchen counter while he folded his arms over his chest and looked at you.

The look on his face was indecipherable but you were tired of it. Tired of him acting like nothing even happened, tired of him cooking you breakfast and leaving just minutes before you woke up, tired of him ruining your dates, tired of him still telling you that he loved you but most of all you were tired of pretending you didn’t care.

Of pretending you didn’t want him back or that he was right there with you whenever you tried to bring yourself close to an orgasm pretending it was him doing it instead.

So you put your purse down and walked towards Dick, staring into his blue eyes with purpose while the confusion on his face grew with each step you took in his direction.

You grabbed the collar of his suit and led him towards the bedroom you two shared once.

“Baby-” Dick began but you cut him off with a quick ‘shh.’

You pushed him onto the bed with his collar and he fell backwards with his back hitting the plush mattress as he looked up at you in confusion with parted lips and big eyes.

“You think you can just do anything?” You began, venom dripping from your voice with how mad you were.

“What-” he said again but you were quick to grab his face in your hand to shut him up.

“I don’t want a word out of you okay?” You murmured as your eyes landed on his parted lips now pouted due to your hold on his chin.

“Hmm,” Dick hummed in response. His pupils completely dilated with need.

“Good,” you breathed out, leaning closer to him until you were straddling him and your forehead was against his. “Because you’ve said enough these past few weeks. Don’t you think it’s time for you to shut up?” you asked and when Dick didn’t respond, you tightened your grip on his face. “That was a question Dick, I expect an answer.”

“Y-yeah,” he managed as you felt him stiffening underneath you.

“Good,” you smiled and pecked his lips before pushing him on the bed so he could lie down completely while you got off the bed and began stripping your dress off.

Once you were out of your clothes and only in bra and panties, you straddled Dick again, your thighs on either side of his hips as you leaned down to press kisses on his neck.

Dick’s hand came up and pulled out the stick from your head that was holding your messy bun up and you immediately frowned, grabbing his hands and pinning them over his head.

“I didn’t say you could touch me,” you said, eyeing him.

“You’re killing me,” Dick murmured and moved his hips underneath you, causing his erection to rub against you.

You let out a shaky breath at that but quickly recovered, pressing your weight down on him more.

“Do that again and I’ll leave you here like this,” you challenged and saw Dick close his eyes for a second. “Will you listen to me now for once in your damn life?”

Dick nodded his head but that wasn’t good enough for you. You ground your hips against his which caused him to let out a small whimper.

“Words,” you ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” Dick whispered.

“Cute,” you smiled and leaned down to give Dick a full kiss against his mouth but when his hands came down again to hold your hips, you pulled away. “You just can’t ever listen to me can you?” You huffed and got off him, walking away from the bed.

“Baby no. Come back! I’m sorry,” Dick pleaded from behind you. “I’ll behave I promise.”

“Yeah you will,” you returned with one of his old ties from the closet and straddled him again.

You grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head again while holding the black tie in your mouth as Dick watched you with hazy eyes without blinking. He was so painfully hard in his suit it was a chore for him to breathe. And yet he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

You neatly tied the tie around his wrist –which let’s be honest, he could easily get out of.

“Nice,” you grinned and looked at Dick who was now glaring at you with flared nostrils.

He was getting mad. Exactly what you wanted.

“Do something,” Dick ordered.

“Do you want me to gag you too? I don’t want to hear your voice right now Dick,” you clicked your tongue and tapped your finger against his lips.

“You’ll regret this,” he warned against your finger. “Have your fun while you can baby because once I’m out of this, you’ll be sorry.”

“Shut up!” you grumbled, putting your palm over his mouth. “The only reason my panties aren't in your mouth right now is because you’re good with your mouth when you’re putting it to good use.”

“Come up here then baby, let me show you how good I am,” he smirked against your palm.

“Not today Nightwing,” you smirked, hands sliding down to the opening of his suit.

You slowly peeled the spandex off him, carefully putting the gadgets aside before you took his comms –that he already disabled– out. He was left in only a pair of black boxer briefs. He was sprawled out in the middle of the bed with his hands tied over his head as he looked at you with hungry eyes, waiting for your next move.

You sat back on his hips, eyeing his sculpted body that you desperately missed over the last few weeks. You ran your hand over every hard ridge and muscle on his body as if relearning it.

Goosebumps slowly rose over Dick’s body as you kept tracing the veins with your nails, causing him to squirm and breathe out shakily.

You ground your hips against his again before leaning down to plant kisses on his throat, trailing a path down to the middle of his chest.

With a giggle, you hopped off him and grabbed a lipstick from your dresser before straddling him again.

“You wanted to ruin my valentine’s day didn’t you?” you asked with a sweet smile as you unscrewed the cap of the red lipstick.

When Dick didn’t respond, you harshly circled your hips over his erection again, making him let out a whimper.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Wanted… wanted you all to myself, in my bed.”

“I’m gonna mark you up,” you stated. “Make you pretty for my gift,” you smiled and applied lipstick on your lips before leaning down to plant your lips against Dick’s chest, transferring the mark on his skin.

You carried on with your lipstick kisses until his whole chest and neck were covered in kiss marks, making the muscles look that much defined and him just that much sexier. You quickly grabbed your phone and put your red painted nails under his chin and snapped a photo.

Gosh he was pretty.

“My pretty baby,” you said with a sweet smile. “Wish you could see yourself right now Dick, you’re so pretty all marked up like this just for me,” you whispered against his lips as your hand travelled down to the waistband of his boxers.

“Say it,” you urged. “Say you’re my pretty baby.”

“I’m your pretty baby,” he managed with a shaky breath as you gripped him before pulling your hand out.

“I don’t think you deserve to get off just yet after weeks and weeks of torturing me,” you decided, leaning back again.

“I’ve seen you with your hands between your thighs while you moaned my name baby, you know you want me,” Dick chuckled.

“That’s not very nice is it Mr. Grayson?” You let out a loud gasp as your hand travelled behind you to unclasp your bra.

As soon as the material slid off your body, Dick let out a loud groan. He harshly moved his hips underneath you as he raised his pinned hands, trying to get them out.

“Untie me lovely,” he coaxed.

“Hmmmm,” you pretended to think as you threw your bra behind you. “No.”

“I’m not joking,” Dick said your name with a finality in his voice as his eyes turned darker.

“I’m not either. You’ve been annoying me for weeks, you can take it.”

“Fine,” Dick clenched his jaw before you heard a harsh rip sound, causing you to widen your eyes as you saw the tie that bound his wrists was now torn in half.

You quickly got off Dick and walked backwards as he approached you with hunger in his eyes.

“Dick…” you began. “I’m sorry! I was going-” you defended yourself as you turned around to open the bedroom door but Dick’s palm came down on it, slamming it shut again as he pinned you against it with his chest against your back and his lips against your ears.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart,” Dick muttered in your ear, grinding his hips on your ass causing a moan to leave your mouth.

“You know what to say if you wanna stop right?” Dick checked and you nodded in reply. “Good,” he chuckled and picked you up, walking you backwards and throwing you on the bed.

Your body collided with the plush mattress, causing your hair to fall over your face but you didn’t get the chance to tame it before Dick got on top of you, making you lie back down.

“Because I need to remind you who owns the game, yeah?” Dick said, ripping your underwear off.

pls be nice i cant write smut also this might be the only valentines day fic you’ll get from me because uni is being ASS but yeah happy valentines day everyone!

sorry if this felt rushed i wrote it today and barely had the time to edit it but i wanted it to be out today because im busy on actual valentines day :p

likes reblogs and comments appreciated hope you enjoy <3

[epicderpface]

\( ᐖ)/ Gojo “We Don’t Need A Condom” Satoru.

“Do you want blue-eyed babies running rampant across Tokyo Tech for the next five years or do you have even a sliver of control?”

Gojo outwardly smirks at your miffed state, massive hands splayed over your supple thighs on the counter of the staff kitchen, the flushed tip of his pale cock brushing through your silky folds teasingly. It seems that your body is giving away just how much you need him, too. “Impeccable timing, sweetheart, because today’s our lucky day. I’ve got the perfect solution for us,” he purrs, and you aren’t all that thrilled knowing the sort of mischief he tangos with.

But you give in anyway. Because he’s Gojo Satoru.

His lips latch onto the column of your throat, and it isn’t long until you feel him pressing into your pulsing entrance, slathered in your leaking arousal.

But something’s off.

“G-Gojo…? What is that?” You quiz with a whine, head tossed back as he laps at your jawline, right where he knows you’re sensitive after years of working by his side and fucking you in his apartment to watch you come undone time after time.

“Little trick I came up w-with, jerking off to those sexy little pictures you sent when I was on that mission in Hokkaido,” he grunts out, thumbs digging bruises into the plush of your thighs as he buries himself to the hilt. “You know how much I can’t work through a quickie with a rubber.” The pout that hangs off his lower lip is all theatrics—the man just likes going at it raw.

You squirm, legs trembling, walls fluttering around his massive size. And then it clicks, because you know Gojo Satoru, and his pullout game is tragically weak.

“There’s no way…”

“Yes way.”

He cups a hand over your mouth as he starts rutting into you, your whines muffled lest some poor employee makes their way into the room, your skull knocking into the cabinet behind your head.

Your eyes are rolling back into their sockets as you piece together that Gojo is using his Infinity around his dick.

A makeshift condom of sorts.

The prominent lines bulging down his length drag against your gummy walls, his technique rounded out so thin and so precise that in a cockdrunk state, you probably wouldn’t have even noticed he had it activated.

But right now, you feel him everywhere.

“C’mon,” he bites down on your collarbone, the low timbre of his tone sending sparks darting up your spine. “Beg me to fill you up raw.”

His vulgar words punch a whimper from you, your legs ensnaring his tapered waist while you clench around him involuntarily. You can’t get a sound out, muffled whines sounding against his soft palm.

Moments later, when the lights above you fade and flicker as his orgasm careens into him and stars bloom behind your eyelids, does he spill inside of you.

But not really inside of you. Just inside of the infinite barrier he managed to keep up after he came.

Once he catches his breath, he pulls out, a thick layer of seed around his cock and held tight against it with his technique.

You hold back a snicker as he fumbles around with his shaft.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he muttered, mostly to himself as he waddles around the room.

And of course, when your situation couldn’t get any weirder, does Ijichi push his way into the staff lounge—spluttering apologies with flushed cheeks, trying to avert his gaze from your hiked up pencil skirt and Gojo’s dick on the verge of leaking onto the linoleum floors.

© this work is a repost, not stolen. do not plagiarize, translate, or feed my writing to ai. all writing belongs to me, and all characters belong to gege akutami.

[spicey-sweet]

So.... I caught pneumonia

And recovering has been hell 🤪

Probably won't update until I can sit without feeling exhausted

[spicey-sweet]

Little bit of writers block

I have an ending for the story planned already

I'm just having an issue deciding what I want the next few parts to be so the ending makes more sense

[art-corner-rowans]

oh deer

i drew some alastors because i can 📻

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines

The evening secretary at the radio station is interested in the new late night radio host, but is it safe for them?

~*~*~*~*~

TW:knives, blood, murder

Prev Next

Dorathy’s heart was pounding so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if Alastor could hear it.

---------------(skip here)

They both became distracted as they heard people stumbling out of the speakeasy and flowing out onto the street. Alastor reacted before Dorathy could and stabbed Lu through the throat. The man let out one last gurgle. They held their breath as they listened to the people laugh as they passed the alleyway. The crowd passed, and they let their breath out. 

----------------(read after here)

“We can’t stay here.” Dorathy breathed. 

“We can’t leave the bodies.” Alastor countered.

He was right of course.

She started patting the pockets of the man in front of them down. The greasy one claimed he was rich so they had to have a car. She doubted the man drove himself with the way he acted, so one of his men had to have the keys. It seemed the man in front of them didn’t have them so she moved over to the other body. Patting around she found what she was looking for in his left pants pocket. Triumphantly she pulled out car keys. 

“They gotta be parked ‘round here somewhere.” She said, dangling the keys from her finger. 

Alastor came over and took the keys from her hand, smiling amused. 

“You are full of surprises today.” He mused. 

“You’d be surprised all the things you don’t know ‘bout me.” Dorathy chuckled. 

He smirked as he leaned down before saying, “And the more I find out the more I want to know.”

He straightened up and looked over his shoulder before he took off, hiding in the shadows as he went. Dorathy looked down at herself. She supposed they both were covered in a fair amount of blood, but Alastor did know the area better so he was likely better suited to retrieve the car. She got up and started to drag the bodies away from the light at the end of the alley. It wouldn’t do any good if someone walking by saw the murder scene while they were trying to clean up. 

She grabbed the greasy man first since he was the lightest. She crouched down and hooked her elbows under his armpits and dragged him without any issue. Out of curiosity she searched his pockets and found his wallet. She was surprised to find fifty dollars in the man’s wallet. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet as she checked the wallet for anything else but found nothing else of value.

“Idiot wasn’t lyin’ ‘bout havin’ money.” She muttered to herself and stuffed the bills and his ID in her bra.

She bounced back up and walked over to the other two bodies. She looked between the two men. She sighed and grabbed the shorter man’s feet and grunted as she started pulling.  While he was shorter than the other man he weighed significantly more than the greasy man. He easily had 100 pounds on the other man, and she had not moved bodies around since her mother passed. It took her more effort and time but she got him over to the other body in the shadow.

She froze as she heard a car engine getting close.

Was it Alastor returning with the car, or was it someone else driving by whose headlights might illuminate the crimes they were trying to hide? She pressed herself further into the shadows against the wall. The car rumbled closer. She did her best to peek down the alley to see if she could catch sight of the car. She felt her breath catch as she saw the silhouette of a car at the end of the alley. Then the engine cut and she saw someone get out of the car and start coming farther into the alley.

“My, my, Mo chè moving the bodies on your own?” She heard Alastor say and she felt the tension leave her a little.

“You didn’t expect me to do nothin’ while you were off gettin’ the car did’ja?” Dorathy laughed as she pushed away from the wall. 

They both grinned at each other and started to help each other move the bodies into the car. They moved as quickly as they could while staying quiet. Moving the greasy man didn’t take much time at all with how light he was. The other two took a little more work as they both were 100 to 150 pounds heavier than the other man. Alastor got into the driver's seat once they finished putting the bodies in the trunk. 

“You got somewhere in mind for these?” Dorathy asked as she climbed into the car.

“Why of course, Mo chè.” He said with a wicked grin, “It is a bit out of the way so I hope you don’t mind the drive.” 

“Let’s get goin’.”

The drive to Alastor’s hideout took some time. It was a shack in the middle of the bayou, and Dorathy was surprised that the car was able to make it all the way. She had a feeling that if anyone else had driven that they might not have been able to navigate all the way there. She could feel the humidity cling to her skin as she stepped out of the car, and the damp smell of the earth filled her lungs. Alastor led her in and she saw that while the outside looked run down the inside was much better cared for.

“I have spent many nights here.”Alastor said as he moved towards a wardrobe pulling out clothes and facing her before he spoke again, “We can spend the night and clean ourselves up. I can also whip us up something to eat if you would like.”

Dorath laughed accepting the offered clothing and asked, “You keep food here to cook with?”

“I keep some ingredients here, but…” Alastor said, his eyes flicking towards the door, “I prefer to make things a bit more avant-garde.”

She felt her eyebrow raise at his words. 

“Now what do you mean by that?” She asked.

She saw some apprehension in his eye before he spoke but he continued his voice confident, “Well… It would be a waste to not use the meat we hunted.”

Dorathy stepped back from him, surprised. Eating people? She couldn’t tell how she felt. Her mama had always said to use every part of an animal you hunted, but this felt different. She saw his face fall for just a moment before the disappointment was replaced with a tight smile. She felt a slight panic in her chest at the idea that she disappointed Alastor. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out.

She saw confusion flicker in his eyes before he asked,“What?”

“I-I didn’t mean to make you feel- I just never thought about it like that and it caught me off guard.” She rambled, “It’s not somethin’ I’ve ever thought about but try anythin’ once.”

Alastor put his hands on her shoulders and she stopped her rambling. She looked up at him and the tight smile was replaced with a soft one. He led her over to a chair and sat her down. She blinked at him and he smiled wider.

“It has been quiet the night. How about we start by getting ourselves cleaned up then we will talk about everything else.” He offered. 

She nodded.

His smile softened again and he turned and walked to the other side of the room. She noticed the large basin as he came up to it. He reached over and removed the lid from the basin then grabbed a pot and dipped it in, filling the pot up with water. She watched as he grabbed a rag then started to rinse the blood off his hands with the water from the pot. He paused once his hands were free of blood and she couldn’t tell what he was doing. After a moment she realized that he was removing his blood stained clothes and her face flushed. She looked away as his shirt came off her face burning as she did. She heard him chuckle and she knew he was looking back at her. 

“I know you often stare at me when you think I’m not looking.” He teased, “Why not let me see you looking?”

Dorathy took a shaky breath and looked at Alastor. 

His shirt and vest were fully off. She could see his chest which looked toned. There were a few scars littered here and there that she assumed must have been from some of his other hunts. She let her eyes roam as he picked up the rag and started to wipe the blood off his neck. She bit her lip and looked away as water droplets rolled down his chest. 

“Problem, Mo chè?” Alastor teased once again. 

“You know what you are doin’.” She replied with her voice low. 

“You’re enjoying the show aren’t you?” He asked, amused. 

She looked back at him with a coy smile and said, “You always do put on the best shows.”

[spicey-sweet]

Period kicking my ass next part might be a little bit

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines

The evening secretary at the radio station is interested in the new late night radio host, but is it safe for them?

~*~*~*~*~

TW: Racism, implies slurs, implied SA, mentions of SA, murder, mentions of blood, knives.

Prev Next

The station fell back into a normal rhythm. 

Mr.Jones and Mr.Willson didn’t seem as concerned with finding a new host for the afternoon segment now that it was split between Robert and Alastor. Dorathy was fairly certain at this point they would only hire someone if they met all of their qualifications, or if they were a star host like Alastor was. Mr.Willson would never pass up the opportunity to get better talent for the station. Mr.Jones will do whatever brings the station more money.

It was the dead heat of the summer now and Dorathy couldn’t be happier that the studio was always cold. The screaming of the cicadas promised that the heat wouldn’t be leaving even into the night, so she wouldn’t get a reprieve even when she went home late in the evening. The bell over the front door went off and Dorathy had to stop herself from falling off her chair. Alastor had his top two buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a light sheen of sweat on his brow. He smiled as he entered the building.

“Ah.”He sighed, pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away some sweat from his neck, “It is so pleasant that our work has air conditioning.” 

Dorathy swallowed hard and tried to smile naturally.

“It does feel so much better than bein’ out there in that swelterin’ heat.” She replied doing her best not to stare at his throat.

She could feel her face getting flush as she fought not to gape at the man in front of her. The fact that he hadn’t caught on to her feelings yet was a miracle. The fact that no one had caught on now that he had started coming in while the others were still here was also a miracle. She had never been good about hiding her crushes. It was something that her Mama had poked fun at her for when she was younger.

She had never felt happier to hear the request light.

“Well I’ll let you cool off. I’m gonna go get that.” She said as she quickly left the room.

She paused before getting to Robert to fan herself so her face calmed down. She felt her face cool off and she walked over to the viewing window and put on the guest headset. He complained about the heat in the booth and demanded an iced drink. Dorathy was honestly surprised that he managed to wait this long to ask. Complaints about the booth being hot during the summer were not a new thing. She sighed and went to go get him a cold drink.

She paused as she reached the back office. 

Alastor was leaning against the counter by the sink sipping on a glass of ice water. His sleeves were still rolled up and his buttons were still undone, but he didn’t look as bothered by the heat. Dorathy cursed internally as she felt her face get hot again. She forced herself to try and appear calm and walk into the room. He turned and looked at her as she came towards him.

“Mo chè, you look as if the heat is getting to you as well.” He said with a sly smile.

Maybe miracles could only last so long.

“I-I think the heat is getting to us all.” She tried lying as she grabbed a glass. He hummed and she wasn’t sure he believed her. 

“You know,” He said, his voice low, “When the heat is sweltering like this I have a favored pastime and I think you should join me.”

“Oh?” She couldn’t help her curiosity.

“We can go out after work tonight and you’ll see.” He offered with a grin.

“Alastor!” Mr.Willson barked from his office door, scowling at how close Alastor was to Dorathy. Alastor’s smile tightened as he straightened up, and walked over to one of the tables without a word. “Dora come here.”

Dorathy felt horrible shame of being called out by her boss crawling up her back as she put down the water she was making for Robert and went into Mr.Willson’s office. The man closed the door behind her as soon as she entered. She sat down without being told too. She watched as he languidly walked around the edge of the room until he was behind his desk and sat down.

“Dora, do you feel safe working alone with Alastor?”

She blinked at the question.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Dora,” He said, condescension slipping into his voice, “Those kinds of men can't control themselves, especially around beautiful young women like yourself.”

Dorathy felt anger flare in her chest at the implication. 

“Alastor has been a perfect gentleman.” She said indignantly.

Mr.Willson tilted his head and smiled at her like she was a child. She felt disgust as he looked at her. Then horror slowly started to trickle down her spine. He thought she couldn't possibly know better than him and that he needed to teach her the correct way. Men like him never thought they were wrong. He wouldn't give up until he had won. 

“Now, now,” He said leaning back in his chair, smirking as he did, “You and I know that someone like him chatting up someone like you is a problem for him. We both also know that you care far too much about this studio to let our most popular host take any hits for this.”

She could feel the color leaving her face as he spoke.

“But this can't go unpunished.” She heard his belt buckle come undone as he said unpunished.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Dread fully settled in. 

“Well,”He asked grinning, “What’ll it be?”

Dorathy had been off since Willson had called her into his office and it was driving Alastor mad. She was acting distant. She didn't meet his eyes when he called a request after Jones and Willson left. He felt frustrated. Willson had clearly done something to her. Why punish her if he was mad at him?

He needed to let off steam.

He was relieved when David showed up. He needed to talk to Dorathy and once David was in the booth they would be alone. He packed up his equipment and didn't bother to wait for David to set up. The equipment didn't need a cleaning so he would simply put it in his locker. As he walked to the front he looked around and Dorathy wasn't there. She must be in the back. That was fine with him.

Walking into the back office he saw her sitting at one of the tables staring down at a cup of coffee. She didn’t react as he opened his locker. He turned to face her.

“Mo chè,” He said carefully as put his equipment back down in his locker, “Are you… okay?”

She looked up from the coffee without blinking and stared at Alastor. 

After a moment she finally blinked as if she was coming back to herself.

“It’s… been a long day.”she said slowly.

He sighed, carding his hand through his curls. 

“You mentioned somethin’ after work earlier?” She asked and took a sip of her coffee.

He perked up.

“Are you still interested, Mo chè?”

“Lettin’ my day end on a bad note just ain't in my nature.” She smiled. It didn't reach her eyes but it was better than earlier.

Alastor grinned back at her. He stood up and offered her his hand. She giggled at the gesture, and took his hand. He pulled her up and spun her away from the table. Her surprised gasp and breathless laugh made him feel a deep satisfaction. Whatever those idiots had done he was able to pull her out of it.

“Well, Mo ti zwazo, let me help make the rest of your day better.” 

It didn’t take long for Alastor to lead Dorathy to the hidden entrance of the speakeasy he frequented. Even though it was late the speakeasy was still in full swing. The music was vivacious, and the people were joyous. He could see people crowding the bar, and libations were plenty to go around. 

“Oh goodness I feel a bit under dressed now.” Dorathy said from beside him. 

“Nonsense.” He denied before saying, “You look wonderful. Now would you like a drink first or would care to join me for a dance?”

She laughed and took his hand before saying, “I’m not much one for drinkin’ myself but I would love to dance.”

Alastor pulled her to the dance floor with a wicked grin. 

Dancing was always easy to lose one's self to and Alastor always found dancing with a good partner made it even better. 

The two danced, twirling, jumping, spinning until someone interrupted them.

A thin pale man with greasy hair grabbed Dorathy by the waist as she was spun away from Alastor. The shock and barely hidden disgust on her face was evident to Alastor. The man grinned lazily at Alastor. He watched as two other men came up behind the man and glared at him. Anger rose in his chest. The speakeasy wasn’t somewhere he could stand up for himself, and horribly he realized he could not stand up for Dorathy either. 

“You don’t mind if I cut in do ya’?” The thin man asked with a drawl.

He watched as Dorathy tried to pull away from the man as she spoke, “Actually, I do.”  

Her hands pushed at the man’s, but the man grabbed her right wrist and yanked her close to his side as he spoke, “You don’t know what you’re sayin’ doll. I can offer you so much more than something like that ever could. ‘Sides My friends here can take care of this for you.”

Alastor tensed as he was ready for an altercation with the man’s friends, but he saw panic flash in Dorathy’s eyes. Suddenly she turned in the man’s grip and smiled at him sweetly. The man looked down at her with a sleazy smile. He held up his hands and his goons stopped. She wrapped her free arm around the man's neck and whispered something in his ear. The thin man laughed boisterously.

“You are a bold little minx aren’t you.”

“Just let me get a drink at the bar first.”

“You don’t come in five minutes, my boys will come and find you.” He agreed with a smirk before slapping her behind.

Alastor felt so much rage as he watched the interaction. Dorathy was clearly trying to protect him.  He watched as the three men strode away confidently disappearing into the crowd. Dorathy didn’t even look at him as they left; she made a b-line for the bar. He chased after her and grabbed her arm as she was leaning over the counter.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. She continued to lean over the counter and riffled through something behind the bar.

“I can’t go in unprepared.” She said as she slipped back over the counter before the bartender saw her.

“That doesn’t explain anything.” He growled. She looked at him pained, and he felt more irritated.

“I know, but I’m runnin’ short on time.”She sighed, “Just come out to the alley.”

A jolt shot through him at those words.

Was she setting these morons up?

Suddenly she was gone in the crowd.

Alastor couldn’t tell if his heart was hammering in his chest at the thrill of being set up for a hunt, or because of something else. There was a feeling in his stomach that he ignored for the time being. He waited thirty seconds after Dorathy had left to follow after. He moved easily through the crowd and made his way out the speakeasy. The humid summer air greeted him but he didn’t have time to take it in. He moved to hide in the shadows and slinked into the alleyway. Dorathy was standing there by herself, looking around nervously. He stayed hidden in the shadows and moved closer. The alleyway was twenty-five feet long and ten feet wide at most and Dorathy had placed herself at the end and towards the middle. Suddenly the side door to the butcher shop that was above the speakeasy opened up behind her and three men stepped out.

“Well, well,”One of the men laughed, one of the men hadn’t spoken before, “Lookie boss the little tramp kept to ‘er word.”

“Of course she did,” The thin man chuckled, “We wouldn’t have let ‘er do anythin’ otherwise.”

Dorathy backed away from the men without saying anything.

“Now, now that ain’t what we agreed to, is it sweet cheeks?” The thin man taunted, “Lu how bouts’ you get ‘er.”

The bigger of the three men started stalking towards Dorathy.

“Be my pleasure, boss.”

--------------------(skip here)

The man moved quickly for his size. Alastor was barely a foot out of the shadows when the man started screaming. All the men froze for a moment as Lu stumbled away from Dorathy and fell to the ground clutching his face. There was a corkscrew sticking out of his eye, and it was buried fairly deep in. Alastor felt a thrill at the sight. He looked up and she had one of the bartender's knives in her hand as well. That had been what she was doing at the bar. 

Excitement thrummed in his veins. He dashed the rest of the way across the alleyway and stabbed his knife into the back of the thin man close to his kidneys. He relished in the startled cry the man let out. The man’s other goon turned as he heard his boss cry out, ignoring the woman with a knife behind him. A mistake. Dorathy darted at him as soon as his back was to her and sliced through the man’s achilles tendon on his right leg. The man cried in pain as his leg gave out and he slammed into the ground. Alastor sliced through the man’s throat, blood spraying out as he did. His blood sang at how well the two of them worked together. 

He turned to the thin man on the ground bleeding out with a manic grin and flipped him over.

“You don’t mind if we share this dance do you?”

“P-Please! Please let me g-g-go! I- I can get you-you anythin’!” The man begged.

He saw Dorathy’s shadow stretch over the man before she leaned over him and spoke.

“Darlin’ what makes you think he needs anythin’ from the likes of you?”

“I-Is th-this a-about the-the tramp?” The man asked foolishly.

Alastor stabbed him harshly on the left side of his abdomen just as Dorathy kicked him in the head. He looked up at her amused. She shrugged at him.

“I would think very carefully about how you speak here.” Alastor advised him as he moved his knife to the man’s throat, “This can get much much worse for you.”

The man’s eyes widened in terror, but then Alastor saw him look between himself and the entrance to the alleyway. He felt irritation flash as he realized the man was not going to let him have his fun. The man opened his mouth to scream, but before Alastor could stab him, and before the man could make a sound Dorathy’s knife sliced across the man’s throat. For a moment Alastor felt aghast that she had stolen his kill before he realized that the man was still alive.

“Mama always said it was better when they can’t scream anyways.” Dorathy chirped.

“I must meet you mother.” Alastor enthused.

“You two would have gotten along, but Mama ain’t with us no more.” Dorathy sighed.

The man’s gurgling brought Alastor’s attention back to him. 

“Ah yes. Our captive audience.” He grinned wickedly, “A shame really, I do love when they scream.”

The man weakly tried to push him off of his body. He laughed at the thin man's feeble attempt. He watched amused as Dorathy walked over to the body of Lu. His heart jumped into his throat as she put her foot on his chest then leaned down and yanked the corkscrew out of his eye socket causing the man to scream out. She twirled the corkscrew in her hand for a moment before she jammed it into the man’s left thigh and twisted. He sat captivated. She made an annoyed noise and pulled the man’s tie off and shoved it in his mouth. His screams were muffled with the tie but Alastor could still hear them. She flipped the knife in her other hand and stabbed it into the man’s other thigh. The man’s muffled screams were music to Alastor’s ears. He remembered the man he had in front of him and looked down to see he had bled out already. He scowled and tossed the man’s body aside. He got up and moved over to Dorathy’s side.

-------------------------(read after here)

“Mo chè, you are captivating.” He murmured in her ear, “I had no clue you could be so ruthless.”

He grinned as he felt her shiver.

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines: Question

Do yall prefer when I describe Alastor killing his victims or when I cut away?

Describing Alastor's murders

Describe it for us!

Cut away please!

Voting ended onDec 31, 2025

[spicey-sweet]

Alright so the votes are in!

Y'all want the details!

For those of you who don't I will section off the murders like so:

--------(skip ahead)

Murder

---------(read after here)

So you can still avoid the gory detail

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines

The evening secretary at the radio station is interested in the new late night radio host, but is it safe for them?

~*~*~*~*~

Prev Next

Alastor received a call the next day to come in early when Nelson, as his name turned out to be, didn’t show up for work. While he was tired from disposing of the body the night before, Alastor was more than happy to pick up the extra hours. He came into the studio and everything seemed to be in a bit of a mess. He could hear both managers arguing over who approved hiring the ‘moron’. Dorathy was rushing around the studio with several papers in her hand looking a little haggard. Margaret was surprisingly still there and hovering just outside Jones' door looking pathetic. 

He ignored the arguing and walked into the back office. His eyes scanned the kitchen and dining area. Nothing looked out of place. He and Dorathy had put everything back in place the night before, but he felt the need to double check now that he was back at the scene. Alastor stayed still as Willson stormed past him into his office slamming the door as he did.

“Mr.Willson!” He heard Dorathy call out as she ran from the front after the man. 

Alastor felt an irritation rise in his chest as she called out to the other man. He shook himself free of the feeling. He had no reason to feel irritated that Dorathy was trying to get the manager's attention. After all, if she didn’t say something the two men would likely run the place to ruins. And yet irritation rose in his chest as she went into the man’s office alone.

He ignored the feeling and went back to the front of the studio to replace Robert in the booth. He ignored Robert’s jabs about tardiness, and went about plugging in his equipment. While mildly annoying to replace every shift, he did have to admit it was nice not to have to share all his equipment with Robert. The equipment that the other host used clearly was not well kept. Dorathy had mentioned to him in passing once that the host were supposed to clean it themselves to keep liability to a minimum. He had yet to see their equipment leave the studio for cleaning. He watched Robert leave, having only put the equipment in the corner once again. 

He put on his headset, checked the broadcast settings, and smiled as he settled in for the night.

It was some few hours later when he noticed Dorathy standing at the window waiting patiently. He nodded at her to let her know he had seen her. She smiled back nodding in return. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that she put on the guest headset that let her listen in the booth from outside. 

“Well my friend, it certainly does sound like you have made quite the misstep! Chocolate cake and red wine is just asking for trouble. The chocolate will dominate the wine and your head! Do make better choices next time!” Alastor laughed into the microphone making sure to include a laughing sound effect as he did, “Well that’s all we have time for that listeners. Next we shall be listening to ‘In The Mood’ by Glenn Miller.”

He set the station to the music break, made sure his microphone was off and spun to face the view window. 

“Dorathy what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked with a smile.

He saw her laugh then reach out and press the speaker button. It crackled to life and her voice came through. “I just wanted to let you know that Mr.Willson has decided that while the afternoon shift is empty it is goin’ to be evenly split between you and Robert. Startin’ tomorrow you will be takin’ the latter three hours of the afternoon shift.” His eyebrow raised at the information.

“Mr.Willson decided that, did he?” He asked, doubting that the man suddenly came to such a clean solution after five months of mess.

“Mr.Willson agreed to it.” Dorathy acquiesced as she tried to fight off a smile. 

“And what did Robert have to say about this?” Alastor asked, amused. He crossed his legs and propped his elbow on his knee as he did waiting on her reply. 

She looked away for some reason before replying, “Robert did not answer his phone, and so will find out when he checks his answerin’ machine. Which means he may not find out till he comes in tomorrow.”

Leaning forwards he could see that Dorathy’s face was flushed. Was something wrong with her? Had she worked herself sick?

“Is something wrong, mo chè?” He asked, placing his feet back on the floor, “You look flush.”

“I-I’m fine I jus-just need to cool off! It’s, uhh, it’s hotter back here and I don’t spend this much time back here!” She stuttered as she quickly pulled the headset off and rushed off.

His brows furrowed as she left. He knew she was lying, because they both had spent much longer in the booth when Spencer had ruined one of the panels and they had tried to salvage it so he could still have his show that night. He couldn’t leave to get an answer from her though. He shook his head annoyed at how this woman confounded him.

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines: Question

Do yall prefer when I describe Alastor killing his victims or when I cut away?

Describing Alastor's murders

Describe it for us!

Cut away please!

Voting ended onDec 31, 2025

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines

The evening secretary at the radio station is interested in the new late night radio host, but is it safe for them?

~*~*~*~*~

TW: Racism, slurs, implies slurs, implied SA, mentions of SA, murder, mentions of blood, mentions of bone, knives.

Prev Next

Management finally made a choice on an afternoon host after five months of back and forth. 

Dorathy wasn’t sure if she should have high expectations of him or not. Alastor was so massively different from all the other host that she wasn’t sure that comparing him to any of them was fair. His show had quickly become the studio’s most popular show even though he had the least desirable spot. Everything about him was charming and drew you in, while some of the other host could just barely keep their show on the channel. 

She was just glad that she didn’t have to deal with Robert anymore. He had been making the beginning of her shifts terrible for the last few months, and David was always a grouch when he first came in in the morning until he got coffee in him. Alastor had even been getting grumpy having to deal with Robert so much. 

She sighed as she walked up to the station. 

Hopefully the new guy wasn’t anything like Robert.

She grabbed the door to the studio and pulled it open. She was met by the cool air of the studio. She sighed in relief as she escaped the humid heat that the spring air had brought with it. Marggie sat behind the desk chatting with Mr.Jones, who was looking at her like she was something he could eat. Dorathy kept her disgust to herself as she politely called a greeting to the two, as she moved towards the back office. 

“Oh Dora,” Mr.Jones said as she passed. She stopped at his words.

“Yes sir?” She asked, biting back her usual response at being called Dora. 

“Would you keep an eye on the new host? He’s still on his probational period and we aren’t sure if we want to keep him or not.” He said. 

She knew this of course. 

“Yes sir.” She replied and paused for a moment before asking, “Is… Alastor still on his probationary period?”

Mr.Jones scoffed. “Of course that boy is still on his probationary period. Their kind has to prove themselves as really worth it. If he wasn’t so damn popular he wouldn’t still be here.”

“Of course sir…”

“Go on and get ready for your shift, Marggie’s got something to do after work.”

“Yes sir.”

Dorathy felt annoyed as she made her way to the back and reached her locker. Mr.Jones clearly wanted her to clock in early so he could take Marggie to whatever plans he had for her. She wasn’t supposed to be on the clock for another 25 minutes but it wasn’t like she could say no to management. She put her purse in her locker and made her way back to the front. She heard a peal of giggles as she walked into the front.

“Stop!” Marggie gasped. 

Dorathy ignored that Mr.Jones was biting the other woman’s neck.

“You had something to do?” She questioned flatly. Marggie had the decency to act embarrassed while Mr.Jones just chuckled and pulled her away from the desk.

“Yes. Have a good shift Dora. George already left so it will just be you and the new host after we leave.” Mr.Jones said not even pretending that he wasn’t leaving with Marggie.

“Thank you for telling me that Mr.Willson is gone. I hope you both have a nice day.”

She waited until the two left the station before she rolled her eyes. She may as well see what the new guy was made of. She reached over and turned the radio speakers on to hear how the show was going. Static filled the room before the station came through clearly.

“-ckie of course didn’t listen to what I told ‘em, so I taught ‘em a nice lesson.”

Dorathy scowled as she heard what she could only assume was a personal story from the host and quickly turned the speakers back off. If that was the kind of show he planned on running she didn’t care to listen in. She might just tell Mr.Jones that he was doing poorly to get him off the air as quickly as possible. Skewing a few numbers here or there depending on how well he was actually received wouldn’t be that hard. She would just move the numbers over to Alastor or Robert depending on what time they were in the day. It wouldn’t be the first time she removed such a blatantly racist host from the air. She reached into her side of the desk and grabbed the folder where she kept record of the night shift numbers and started calculating how much she could skew the numbers before Mr.Willson would become suspicious. 

Dorathy was so concentrated on her calculations she didn’t notice the front door bell ring, or Alastor leaning over the desk looking over her shoulder at her work until he spoke. 

“What, my dear, are you doing that has so fully captured your attention?”

She couldn’t help but jump, and close the folder quickly. None of the host were supposed to see their numbers until management went over them with them. She felt her face flush as she realized how suspicious her actions looked. She coughed to try and regain her composure. 

“The night shift numbers. You aren’t supposed to see your’s until management talks with you about ‘em.“

Alastor raised an eyebrow at her explanation. 

“I’ve never seen you work on those before.”

“I usually work on ‘em while host are in the booth.” Dorathy explained easily, “I lost track of time working on ‘em this time.”

“So you are personally responsible for deciding who succeeds and who fails at the station?” Alastor asked.

“Wh-What? I-I just report the numbers as we get ‘em!” Dorathy sputtered. 

She felt a slight panic that Alastor may have seen her skewing the numbers. While normally she would report the numbers as they came in, she just couldn’t abide by the station hiring someone like that. Terrible people made for terrible coworkers and if she could avoid working with them she would. If that meant lying every now and again, then maybe she would lie every now and again. 

Alastor wasn’t sure what the new host had done to get on Dorathy’s bad side but he had certainly seen her moving numbers away from the new host and onto his show. Now she was lying to his face about moving those numbers around. He wondered if she would admit to it if he told her that he had seen what she had been doing. His thought was interrupted by the request light going off. He expected Dorathy to be annoyed but go see what the new host needed. He was surprised to see disgust on her face, and for her to reach over and hit a switch he didn’t even know the front desk had turned the light off. 

“What was that?” He asked surprised. 

She blinked and the look disappeared from her face as she looked at him. He was oddly comforted by the fact that she didn’t look at him like that. Everyone else here looked at him with varying levels of disgust, but she never had. He couldn’t explain it but he was sure that it would feel like a betrayal if she did.

“Oh. I… don’t think he’s going to last long. He’s a bit too… extreme… in his ideologies. It won’t mesh well with our studio’s culture.” Dorathy said carefully. He noticed her fidgeting with her pencil as she spoke. 

“What does that mean?” He asked even though he had a feeling he knew.

“Well… Mr.Jones and Mr. Willson will usually trust me to… keep an eye on the new host to assess if they are good for the company.” Dorathy spoke as if she was worried.

“Do they always take your recommendation?”

“No…” She hesitated before adding, “But oftentimes they do.”

He stared at her. He felt revolution rolling in his stomach as realization came over him. She could have ended his career after he threatened her, and he would have been none the wiser. There is no way that Jones and Willson wouldn’t have blacklisted him from the industry. 

And yet. Here they both were. 

“What did he do, Dorathy.”  

She looked uncomfortable at the question. 

“You… don’t listen to the station do you?” 

He felt his brows furrow at the question. 

“Our station isn’t exactly to my taste.”

She nodded as if that answered something for her.

“Well… the new host is…” Her face scrunched up as she seemed to rethink how to word her sentence, “The new host’s taste in theatrics is more towards, mmm, lets say confederate in taste.”

Alastor understood. He wasn’t sure how he felt about how she was handling the situation. It felt underhanded. He worked hard and charmed his way to where he was. He had to be the best at what he did or else no one would give him a second glance. Looking at Dorathy he realized that while society may not look down on her for the color of her skin she still had to deal with the stigma of being a woman and clearly her tactics were different from his own when getting where she wanted in life. 

“Robert?” He asked. She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Robert’s not technically on my shift.” She huffed, “So his probation period wasn’t left up to me. He’s also past his probation an’ management don’t typically fire a host unless they have a replacement lined up or the host did something management really didn’t like.”

“So you evaluate afternoon and late night?” He asked.

“I should only do those two.” She said irritably.

“Should?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well they also have me evaluate early mornin’ as well.”

He felt his eyebrow twitch. He already didn’t like Margaret. She was rude and condescending to him when he took on the afternoon shifts. Now it sounded like management gave her as little to do as possible while Dorathy picked up everyone else’s slack. 

“So the one shift they don’t make you evaluate at this point is Robert’s.” He said flatly. Dorathy sighed, and looked away. He jolted slightly when she sat straight up suddenly.

“Bitch you ain’t answer my calls from the booth to talk to one of them?” an unfamiliar voice spat with venom in his voice. Alastor turned slowly and saw the new host standing in the doorway looking furious. 

Dorathy got up quickly standing between Alastor and the new host. Alastor reached out to pull her from in front of him, but the new host moved towards the two of them and they both took a step back. Alastor felt an itch to reach for his knife, but he was certain that he wouldn’t be able to get this man to leave willingly like he had with Spencer. He was taller and younger than Spencer had been. Spencer was in his early 50’s this man looked to be early 30’s. He looked like he could put up a somewhat decent fight and while Alastor relished in a good fight  with his hunts every now and again this was not the time nor place for such a thing. 

“You aren’t supposed to leave the booth before your shift ends.” She said evenly.

“You’re supposed to come when I call.” The man sneered.

“I was busy.”

“Talkin’ to a damn monkey?!” 

Alastor knew this wasn’t going to end well. This man was clearly too blinded by his hatred of others to try and talk down. Was this management's way of trying to sabotage him? Were they sabotaging Dorathy? Or were they just recklessly stupid with who they hire? It didn’t matter at this point, all that mattered was making it out of this alive. 

He looked around quickly.

The front door was out of the question. If someone saw a white man chasing a black man out into the street no one would do anything, and there was no way for Alastor to fight back out in the open. The back door was preferable, but far. No one would see them in the back ally ways, and Alastor would be able to take the man down. Plus if the forecast was to be trusted any extra evidence would be washed away by the storm.  The problem was Dorathy. While he was sure he could make it to the back before the man in front of them could catch them he wasn’t so sure about her. He also wasn’t so sure what would happen if she ran out the front and the maniac chased her instead of himself.  He realized that the only way he could ensure the outcome, and sighed as he resolved himself to it.

Swiftly, Alastor swept Dorathy’s feet out from under her and pulled her up into his arms. Her startled scream did nothing to stop him as he turned and ran as fast as he could into the back office, throwing her office chair in the other man's way as he did. The other man bellowed out a yell as he followed after them. Alastor was glad that Dorathy had wrapped her arms around his neck to make carrying her easier as well as throwing as many chairs in the way of the other man as he could as he ran for the back door. His heart was pounding in his chest as they got close to the door. He could hear the other man throwing the discarded chairs out of his way to get to them. He turned and slammed his back into the door to ram it open as they reached it, and with a spike of adrenalin he realized the other man was faster than he thought as he was only six feet away.

As soon as the door to the alleyway closed behind them Alastor looked quickly and saw a pile of garbage and threw Dorathy towards it. He ignored her scream and quickly pulled his knife out and ducked behind the door. He turned as he heard the idiot slam his shoulder into the door, so that his back would take the brunt of the force. The door bounced off his back and he heard the man stumble into the alleyway, but he couldn’t see Alastor in the shadows. 

The brute saw Dorathy sitting on the ground under the light looking terrified, and started stalking towards her. 

“Oh that monkey leave you all alone to save his skin now did he?” He laughed menacingly, “Well I’ll just have to have fun with you won’t I?”

Alastor came up behind the man and stabbed down into his neck and pulled back viciously. The brute’s hands flew up to his neck as he stumbled back from the harshness with which Alastor yanked his knife back with. It hadn’t come free since the clavicle was in the way, but he was sure that the motion had hurt just like he meant it to. He yanked his knife free of the man’s neck and smiled at the spray of blood that came with it. The man still bleeding out looked horrified as he slumped to the ground. Alastor grabbed his collar and dragged him farther into the shadows ready to make the man suffer more. Then he remembered that he wasn’t alone.

“No. No. NO. NO!” Dorathy gasped as she started skittering backwards away from the man.

---------(Skip if you don't like blood and such)

He back at Dorathy. She wasn’t looking at him. He could see her shaking like a leaf. She was staring at the ground while hugging her knees.

“I apologize that you were bait in that moment, but I had to be sure he would follow us back here.” He apologized. He truly wished he hadn’t had to use her in that way.

She didn’t say anything.

His brows furrowed.

“ ‘M not gonna hurt you, zwazo chante.” He said softly, his natural accent accidentally slipping out. He flinched internally since he hadn’t let anyone he worked with hear his natural accent. 

He let go of the man’s collar and wiped his hands off on the other man’s pants. He walked cautiously over to her. She didn’t seem to react to him as he crouched next to. She finally reacted when he reached out to touch her by flinching harshly. He pulled his hand back and put his hands up in mock surrender as she finally looked at him.

-----------------(safe past this point)

She blinked up at him, and he felt embarrassed. He had let her see too much. She looked down and he noticed she was pulling at the threads on the hem of her skirt.

“He was gonna rape me.” She had said it so quietly Alastor almost missed it.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

He was surprised by the bitter laugh that came from her.

“I‘ve heard that before.”

He felt a cold anger settle in the pit of his stomach as he asked, “What?”

She shook her head. Her eyes still didn’t meet his. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” She insisted. He reached over grabbing her chin and made her look him in the eye. He could feel her fingers grazing the bottom of his wrist, but she made no move to remove his hand. 

“That didn’t sound like nothin’.” He pressed.

“Y-You won’t find ‘em anyways.” 

“I’m very good at findin’ those who’ve angered me, mo chè.” He pressed closer to make himself clear.

“Mama was thorough.”

He leaned back at those words, and looked at Dorathy in stunned shock before laughing. 

Would this woman ever cease to stop catching him off guard?

[spicey-sweet]

Coal Mines

If anyone is interested here is the Station and everyone's schedules currently