Being A Maid In The House Of Kokushibo And Yoriichi And Serve Them Nicely. (yk What I Meant 18+. Also

Being a maid in the house of kokushibo and yoriichi and serve them nicely. (yk what i meant 18+. Also female bodied reader)

Personal maid <3

GOD THIS PICTURE LMFAOOO also I'm using human kokushibo (michikatsu) for this if they have a maid to themselves

Part two: Here!!!

Warnings: Fem!reader, reader is a maid, human kokushibo (michikatsu), hard dom michikatsu, pleasure dom yoriichi, cum, humiliation kink(?), spanking, rough fucking, choking, mention of 3some

Michikatsu

Michikatsu, who takes joy in having you, the Tsugikuni twins personal maid to satisfy his needs after a long day of being a samurai.

Michikatsu who approached you directly on what to expect, being his and his brothers personal maid, even if their father informed you already. He's not as affectionate, but he makes sure to get to know you and what you're comfortable so you and him can do things smoothly without trouble.

Michikatsu who trained your throat so you know how to suck his cock right when he gets home from a hard day. When he comes out the shower and sits in front of you, man spreading, you already know what to do.

Michikatsu feels the most relived after cumming from oral. Your lips wrapped around his tip and sucking it, bobbing your head and your hand jerking him off is rhythm. "That's it" he groans letting his head fall back and grabbing a fist full of your hair "I'm going to cum, make sure to swallow it all. Don't let a single drop leak out to get me dirty after I use showerd, " he said and pushes your head down to take more of his cock.

Michikatsu, who gave you rules on what to do for him. One of them is not wear panties under your kimono, that way it makes easier for him to fuck you when he gets home. Whenever he walks by you around the house, he'll grab your ass to check, but if he grabs your ass and he feels you've got panties on, he'll punish you afterward.

Michikatsu, who bends you over lap, lifting your kimono to expose your ass and spanks you, making you count out loud. "I'm sorry master! I'm sorry, " you whine, hugging his musclar thigh, feeling the stings from each of his spanks. "Are you really? This is the 5th time you've disobeyed me." he said, moving your panties to the side and chuckles, "but you like being a brat just so I can punish you. Just look at this mess" he said as his fingers played with your leaking pussy. He wasnt wrong though, you did like it, almost love even.

Michikatsu who fucks you rough to relief him of stress. He fuck you in missionary to have the most control and having his hand always makes it up to your throat, squeezing it. "Is this too tight?" He'll always ask while fucking you hard, making his skin clap agiants your and all you could do is shake your head, holding onto his wrist while you let out breaking moans. "Too dumb on my cock to answer with words mm. But I like that face. I can't help but think you're always this excited for me to fuck you like a stupid whore"

Michikatsu, who's good with his pull out game. Just when he's about to cum hell pull out, cumming on your pussy, in your mouth or if he's in a good mood and you've cum on his cock like your told too then he'll cum inside you.

Michikatsu's aftercare is always a "thank you" or a "good job." He's not the best with comforting words, but he always asks if you're ok physically and mentally after sex. If you say you're fine to head to the bath by yourself after a rough fucking session he will carry you to the bath and he makes sure you've gotten to your room safely.

Yoriichi

Yoriichi is calm. More clam than his twin, but you underestimated his sex drive just because of how calm he is. After coming back home from God, he knows where he'll always come back, wanting to have you all to himself, even if it ment bumping heads with his twin with needing you more.

Yoriichi, who isn't afraid to play with you in public and eats your pussy for his own pleasure. He has you up against the wall. His head between your legs, licking and sucking on your clit with his fingers deep inside you. "M-master yoriichi, please," you whispered as your hand griped onto his hair. "A samurai could turn around this corner any minute- f-fuck" you cover your mouth to surpress your moans. He only moans in response on your clit while stroking his hard cock.

Yoriichi who likes to over stimulate your clit by trying to make you cum as many times as he can. When is he done making you cum from his tounge he'll rub his tip on your clit. "So pretty. You're leaking so much for me..." he said, slipping his tip between your wet folds, catching your slick, and pushing onto his tip inside your hole, in and completely out.

Yoriichi, who can't help but smile when you beg for him. "I'm sorry, I've been making you cum so much you've had nothing to clench on. Here you go" he whispers in your ear and moans once he's slides inside you slowly. "You're so tight. Don't hide your pretty moans from me. Let me hear you when you cum for me."

Yoriichi likes to fuck you in missionary but its different from how michikatsu would do. He always makes sure to put a pillow underneath your lower body to penetrate you deeper than normal and make it more pleasurable for you. "M-master, please~ oh gosh. I'm suppose to be taking care of you here" you moan out, yoriichi slamming into you roughly and him leaning forward to suck on your nipples "you're doing more then enough to help me, haa soo good for me. Seeing you like this and your pussy squeezing me from how good it feels is enough for me."

Yoriichi who likes to press his hand down gently on your abdomen gently when you let him know you're close. "Squirt for me. I know you can do it, you're such a good girl" he said and kisses your jawline "your getting so wet for me" his free hand starts to rub at your clit "ill fill you up just how you like it if you squirt on my cock"

Yoriichi is very wholesome with the aftercare to you. After a bath, he gives you a massage in your room, making sure you're not tensed or hurt anywhere. Sometimes, yoriichi will sleep in your room since he does like the comfort you give him

Bonus

During a samurai meeting, the Tsugikuni twins would often sit in the far back request their personal maid to sit between them after you've brought them tea. Their father found it foolish how clingy they've become to you but always brushed it off.

Yoriichi is the frist to make a move by grabbing your thigh and slowly grabbing the inner part of your thigh. You keep your head straight along with the twist yet your body heating up once you feel Yoriichi fingers brush on your pussy and then michikatsu starting to grab at your ass.

Yoriichi gets his fingers to start rubbing your clit in circles through your panties making you bite down on your lip to not make a sound while the meeting is going on. You wiggle slightly making michikatsu chuckle lowly while he moves his hand from your ass.

Michikatsu puts two fingers in his mouth to lubricant them without anyone noticing and leans closer to your ear "don't a sound" he said parting your thighs open more to slide his fingers in making you gasp and quickly covering your mouth. "Shhh, not so loud now. We don't want to be found out" yoriichi whispered and moaned in your ear "I can feel your clit throbbing for us already" he said as his other hand cups your boob and playing with your hard nipple through your kimono with his fingers.

Michikatsu smirks and finger fucks you faster, hearing the sounds of your wet pussy and watches you cover your mouth desperately to hide your moans. "Be of service to us and stroke our cock" he said and your hands reach over, exposing your cocks and beginning to jerk them off.

Yoriichi's head falls onto your shoulder as he felt your warm hard wrapped around his cock and rubs your clit faster. Michikatsu bites your ear softly "fuck you're being so good" his voices became raspy trying to stay quiet himself. "If you cum for us you'll get two cocks stuffed I'm you as a reward. How dose that sound, y/n?"

"I-id love that," you whispered back. "I'll be a good girl, don't worry~"

Spring Cleaning

Alastor x Reader // word count 3.2k

In which Alastor goes through your closet, and offers a tasteful replacement for the unsavory things he’s destroyed

Tags/warnings: yandere, invasion of privacy, Alastor’s outfit-changing magic fuckery, mention of lingerie, slight suggestiveness

A/N: I’d like to thank Goodwill for providing the clothing item that inspired this fic

There’s someone in your room, and you know exactly who it is, because - well, it’s not like it’s a rare occurrence. It doesn’t happen every time, but often enough that you’ve gotten used to seeing Alastor when you open the door, pacing along your bedroom floor, casually perusing your belongings, or sitting at your desk chair like he’s been waiting for you all day. It’s been happening for so long, now, that you don’t remember exactly when it started. And you certainly don’t know why. You tried asking, once or twice, but you learned quickly that he has a shocking ability to dance around questions that he doesn’t want to answer. All you really know is that he’s taken an interest in you, and that it’s not likely to disappear anytime soon.

Some specific visits do stick out in your memory. On one particularly horrendous occasion, he’d stood directly beside the door when you’d swung it open, hiding himself from view, only for his presence to be revealed when you’d turned to shut it behind you. His head had been tilted to a truly bizarre angle, but he’d straightened himself out while you were still reeling from the shock.

No need to be frightened, my dear. Just a bit of fun…

You got the feeling that the look on your face was exactly the entertainment he was looking for. 

Today isn’t like that, thankfully. It’s usually not. You get the impression that he doesn’t want to scare you away (as if you could run away, even if you wanted to), and that that particular visit was a rare sort of indulgence. Your door is already cracked open, and you hear him long before you see him. He’s humming something, but like most of the songs he treasures, it’s far too old for you to recognize.

Not as if he accepts that as an excuse. You’ve started learning some of the titles, just to appease him. And the lyrics. And reading the books that he’s given you, and listening to his odd bits of old-fashioned advice, and accepting his various other gifts. The whiskey was nice, although of course he insisted upon drinking with you, and cut you off at one glass. Apparently, it would have been improper to indulge any further in mixed company. The coffee was better - at least he let you drink that by yourself.

When you swing the door open, he’s half-turned away from you, and doesn’t so much as look in your direction. But what you can see of his broadening smile makes it clear that he’s heard you enter. “Hello, my dear,” he murmurs. “I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

This is another thing you’ve gotten used to: being made to feel like you’re the guest, in your own bedroom. It drives you insane, but of course, you’ve never addressed it. And you’ve certainly never tried to drive him out before he was ready to leave. This little arrangement you have - truly, you’re not sure what to call it - can be unpleasant, at times, but it’s not unbearable. He never comes late at night, and never shows up when you have company (although how he always seems to know whether you have company, you’re not sure). He doesn’t seem to want anything more than your attention. 

It’s acceptable. Tolerable. And if you ever push back, you’re not sure what will happen, so you think it’s better to just leave things as they are. To let him come and go through your life as he pleases.

You’re coming closer than ever to saying something now, though, because this time he’s not just sitting at your desk, or standing idly somewhere in your room. He’s got your closet door open - and he’s rifling through the contents. Clearly, he’s been doing this for some time, because a large portion of your clothes are already lying in a heap on the floor behind him. As you watch, he tears another shirt off its hanger. A black camisole that you’d bought because it reminded you of something you’d worn often in life. A “going out top,” as your old friends had called it. He looks down with something like disgust, and drops it over his shoulder, where it flutters to the top of the pile.

“ Alastor…” You try to keep your tone even. Merely curious, instead of indignant. “What are you doing?” A bit of your anger slips through. It would be stupid to even hope that he didn’t notice.

“No need to be so hostile.” He slips another shirt from your closet and holds it up with both hands. “I’m doing you a favor.” He tugs on the sloped neckline of the delicate blouse in his hands, and a rip appears down the middle. “My mistake, dear.” 

Arguing, you think, would be a bad idea. But you really do need him to stop. “I liked that one.”

“ Hmm…well! I didn’t. I’m afraid it was a bit modern for my tastes.” He shakes his head, and turns around, dropping the shirt into the mess of other garments on the floor. He’s made it through a good chunk of your wardrobe - several pairs of pants and jeans, as well as a few accessories you’d grown fond of, are visible within the heap. “I mean no offense, of course. I only wish to help.”

You certainly do take offense, but there’s no point in addressing that directly. “They’re my clothes,” you say instead, very aware that you sound like an idiot. 

“Not anymore.” With a flourish of his hand, the pile disappears, leaving the floor bare. As well as your closet…as you carefully approach, you see that there’s almost nothing left inside. “You’ll thank me before long.”

It’s getting very hard to contain yourself now. “I bought those.”

“And I will be happy to provide some more… suitable replacements.” His image flickers in front of you - a moment later, he reappears by your side. It’s not the first time this has happened, either, but it makes you shudder every time. “To be entirely honest…” An odd twist of his neck brings his face directly in front of yours, nose nearly brushing your own. “I should have done this long ago.” He takes you by the shoulder, and guides you across the room to your dresser. “I’m nearly done already. Only a few drawers left to go.”

You stare up at him, hardening your gaze. Doing your best to sound confident, and not terrified of speaking up. “I want them back.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option. What’s done is done.” He turns, and reaches for the handle of a drawer. The small one, in the top corner.

Oh. Your stomach knots as you realize which drawer, exactly, he’s about to open. You can’t, under any circumstances, let him see what’s in there. But your protest is so frantic that it’s barely comprehensible. “That one - don’t… ”

He laughs shortly, as if you’ve said something only mildly amusing. “You’re getting hostile again, my dear. You know I don’t appreciate that.”

In a panic, you blurt out the question that rises to the top of your head. It will distract him for a moment, if nothing else. “Why are you doing this?”

You realize immediately that this was a mistake. Questioning him is always a mistake.

But then again - you would like to know.

He pauses, the corner of his grin twitching upward. Eyes narrowing as his head swivels in your direction. “I’ve taken a liking to you, my dear.” He certainly doesn’t sound as if he likes you at the moment. His voice drips with condescension. “So when you do things, or have things, that I don’t like, I find it rather jarring.” He takes a deep breath. After he exhales, his eyes flash, and he continues in his usual lighthearted tone. “Taking those things away is quite a comfort to me.” 

His smile seems a touch more genuine now. Somehow, that makes it more unsettling. So much so that you freeze up for just a second too long. 

“Back to business, then.” He lashes out a hand, and yanks the drawer open. 

As soon as he peers inside, he goes rigid. You stiffen, as well, but certainly not for the same reason. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the sharp static suddenly buzzing in your ears. “I told you…”

“No, you didn’t .” He dips a single finger into the drawer, and pulls out the garment on top by its strap, dangling it in midair and examining it. It’s black, like the shirt you’d walked in on him tossing earlier - but it’s certainly not designed for going out. Or for anywhere besides your bedroom. He stares at it for some time, until his silence becomes too much to bear. 

“You shouldn’t have”-

“My dear.” He laughs softly, more to himself than to you. “I’d really prefer you not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, so fake that it’s painful to your ears, its conceit betrayed by the telltale twitch in his eye. “Now. Do tell me. What could have possessed you, to spend your hard-earned money on something like this ?” He tilts his head, and stares, clearly waiting for a response.

This question has no good answer, but some are worse than others, so you choose your words carefully. “It…I like how it looks?”

“Hm.” If he wasn’t grinning, as always, you’re sure he’d be grimacing instead. “I can’t say I understand.” He sets it down in the drawer for a moment, and carefully tugs off his glove. “Nor do I wish to.”

You watch in a mixture of mortification and horror as he takes hold of your lingerie once again, and snags his nails across the fabric, easily rending it to pieces. He drops the torn fabric carelessly to the floor, kicks it under your dresser, and pointedly wipes his hand on his sleeve before replacing his glove.

“Ah, well. No need to say anything more about it now.” His eyes trail to the remaining contents of the drawer. “I do hope that you’re not quite as fond of the rest.” He drops his hand over the pile, and a moment later, a soft green flame envelops it. For a moment, you panic, sure that your entire dresser is about to burn, but the flame disappears with the last of your lingerie, leaving not so much as a pile of ashes behind. 

You peer into the empty drawer, mouth ajar. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.” You’re probably getting into risky territory, but this mixture of embarrassment and irritation is becoming too much to bear. 

“Hm?” His eyes are gleaming. There’s something dangerous there, you think, something that you have to tread carefully around. “You didn’t get so worked up over the rest of your closet. Is this different to you?”

“You said you’d replace the rest,” you mutter, judging it to be the safest possible answer. The least likely to cause further embarrassment. “I doubt you’re going to make the same offer with…those.”

“Oh? Who says?” His eyes gleam, in that way they do when he gets an idea that no one around him is going to enjoy. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t planning on it…but those things clearly meant a lot to you. And I enjoy your company far too much to let something so small come between us.”

You think that you’d certainly like something to come between you and him. A wall, perhaps. Or a large metal gate. 

“So! If it’s a replacement you want, a replacement you shall have.” He sharply closes the drawer, and kicks at a strip of shredded black fabric that still protrudes from beneath your dresser. “It should be something that can be worn in bed, I suppose. But I prefer to interpret that in a more traditional sense. Something to be worn to sleep.” His head tilts dramatically, and somewhere far above your head, you think you hear a few notes of a slow, lilting song, piped in from many decades ago. “And I believe I have just the thing.” That intractable smile pulls back, just a fraction. “Let’s see what it looks like on you, shall we?”

You open your mouth to protest. But of course, you don’t manage to get a word out before he flicks his hand in your direction. 

When you look down, your previous outfit is gone. And in its place…well. Like Alastor said, there’s nothing lurid about it. It’s a slip of sorts, made of thin, silky off-white fabric that falls almost to your knees. Delicate enough that you wouldn’t wear it outside, but modest enough that you don’t feel entirely exposed. It’s something to be worn to bed, indeed. But not by you. There’s nothing you about it. The fabric itself appears brand new, but like all the things Alastor seems to appreciate most, the design clearly comes from long before your time.

You find, suddenly, that you don’t know how to hold yourself. How to act. Your arms hang awkwardly at your sides, feeling heavy as your fingertips skim the silk that surround your thighs.

You realize, after the moment of disorientation had passed, that Alastor is not acting like himself, either. He’s quiet. You were expecting mockery, some ridiculous comment that would make you melt into the ground - but it appears that the results of your transformation have caught him off guard.

There’s a creak on the floorboards to your right. A faint sigh. “I must say, my dear…” Alastor’s voice is softer than you expected, and almost devoid of the static filter that usually coats his words. “It suits you better than I could have imagined.”

You think that you’d prefer taunting to whatever this is. 

“I’d go so far as to say you look quite lovely.”

You keep your eyes downcast, not wanting to see his face just yet, and examine the finer details of the garment he’s cast upon you. It has narrow straps, and lace at the neckline, which is high enough to give nothing away. The hem is also lacy, and the cut is straight, not so much defining your curves as endeavoring to erase them as much as possible. Objectively speaking, it is quite pretty. But you’re left with the impression that you’ve strode into someone else’s closet, and departed wearing their clothes. 

“Don’t you agree?”

Slowly, hesitantly, you look up. Alastor’s eyes are fixed on you, shining a brighter red than you’ve ever seen. There’s nothing vulgar about the way he’s staring - but he’s not merely amused, either. Instead, he’s looking at you with rapt fascination, in much the way that one would contemplate a particularly exquisite piece of art in a gallery. 

“I’m…not sure.” You instinctively cross your arms, almost wishing that you saw a more crude impulse behind his eyes. That, at least, would be easier to understand. Instead, it’s something like appreciation - or pride. More of the latter. If you were merely a piece of art, you’d imagine that this would be how your creator would look at you, upon seeing you on display for the first time. 

“No need to hide.” He reaches forward, and touches you lightly on the wrist. It’s enough to send both of your arms falling to your sides. “You couldn’t even if you tried.” 

His smile, again, seems entirely too real. There’s nothing threatening about his tone. It’s even, charming. And yet…

He slips behind you, and his hand moves to your waist - a test, you think, to see if you’ll slap it away. “But I don’t think you’re planning on trying, are you?”

“No.” You’re surprised by how quickly the word comes out of your mouth, how breathless. It was an odd question, one that hinted at more than the subject in front of it, and seemed to demand an answer. 

His other hand joins the first on your waist, and he turns you around, so quickly that you almost stumble, his palms dancing lightly over your barely covered skin. When you’re facing him, one hand slides up, curling around your jaw and holding tight, keeping your gaze turned up towards his face. And it is a long way up - it’s almost embarrassing how small you are compared to him. He stares down, staying silent for much longer than you’re used to, his breathing just a touch heavier than usual. 

His fingers tighten over the silk at your waist, pressing into your skin, a small twitch of his hand pulling the fabric very slightly upwards. It barely moves the hem at all - less than an inch - but somehow leaves you feeling infinitely more exposed. You almost flinch away, but after just a moment, he lets go, all at once. In fact, he practically jerks his hands back, as if he’s only just become aware of what he’s doing, and doesn’t approve. His smile, all of a sudden, appears incredibly fragile. 

“Oh…” He laughs softly - it feels forced. “Forgive me, darling. I truly don’t know what came over me.”

You’re not quite sure, either. And as usual, you neither expect nor want an answer.

He steps to your side, leans slightly over you, both hands clasped behind his back. With what seems like some effort, he forces the usual lighthearted tone back into his voice. “You do want to keep it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You’d prefer not to, you think, if this is the sort of reaction it draws out of him. But you can’t very well get rid of it, if he doesn’t want you to. And, you reassure yourself, just because you have it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.

“Good.” Again, overhead - but not so far overhead as last time - that lilting old melody falls into your ears. You have the odd impulse to cover them, but you force yourself to keep your hands at your sides. “It is getting late…I think you might as well keep it on, and get yourself all ready for bed.”

You’d like to push back. But all you can manage is a mute nod.

“Lovely.” He starts to raise his hand, as if to reach out and touch you again, but seems to think better of it. The hand falls, and disappears behind his back once more. “Sleep well, my dear.” Quickly, he turns on his heel, only calling out one final line before slipping out through your door. “You’ll see me again soon.”

You have no doubt that you will.

Alone in your room, you slowly approach the mirror that stands in the corner. Your reflection does not change your initial impression. You don’t look like yourself. You don’t like it. And it’s not like he’ll know if you take it off, change into something more comfortable…

Your eyes fall upon your nearly empty closet, and you remember that you don’t have anything more comfortable. Not anymore.

This is alright, you try to tell yourself. It’s just a piece of clothing.

Just a piece of clothing that you can’t imagine wearing for any other reason, or for anyone else. 

Your eyes fall upon the empty drawer in the top corner of your dresser, and trail over to your bed. Quickly, you drop your gaze to the floor. You realize, with a sigh, that it will be a long time before you have any company besides him in this room. In fact, it’s possible that you’ll never open your door for anyone again.

At the moment, doing so would feel far too much like allowing a guest into someone else’s home. 

Prey | Chapter One

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Warning: This fanfic contains disturbing themes such as: Cannibalism, Murder, Gore, Sexual Assault, Death, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, and Abuse.

Chapters with these themes will have a warning at the start and in the tags below.

Enjoy~

It was a little ironic. How a vicious predator such as himself, took on the form of prey.

But he was never prey. He had always been the hunter, never the hunted.

Even in death, he could never be prey to someone else.

But she was. However, It would not last long, soon, she would know what it was like being predator...

Warning: Slight Sexual Harassment In Workplace Environment

A loud ringing shook you from your slumber, you groan as you rose from your bed and lazily rubbed your tired eyes. Seven a.m. sharp, time for work. You got out of bed, immediately missing it's warmth as cold air brushed against your skin. With a long yawn, you walked to your closet and pulled out your work dress.

It was a simple waitress outfit, all white with a matching apron tied around the waist. You make your way to the bathroom and took a shower before getting tidied up and got dressed. The dress your wore went right below your knees, and showed off your arms. Though, it was a little tight around the bust and hips. At first you feared you told your boss the wrong size, but it turns out, he's just another one of those types...

You would have quit just for that reason alone, but, you weren't in a position to pick and choose what job you wanted. Times were tough for you at the moment, rent isn't cheap, as tiny as your apartment is, and you can barely afford to keep yourself fed. You were lucky to find this job when you did. Speaking of, it was time you got a move on.

You hurried out the door and made your way to work. The diner was some distance away, thankfully you learned the shortest routs on your way since you started. Everyday, you'd make it into work with just a minute to spare.

You huffed out a breath as you walked inside. There was no time to make chitchat with anyone, work starts as soon as you arrive. So you give a smile and a wave to the costumers and fellow employees before starting your shift. A typical work day for you would go as followed:

Take orders, rush plates of food and drinks to the costumers, clean up the tables and the floors, and make friendly conversation when you got the chance. And always greet costumers with a smile.

You enjoyed your job for the most part. Nice folk would come in and some would even tip you graciously. You were appreciative of any amount of money you'd get of course, but there were some people who just really make your day, by adding a bit more than needed.

"Morning! Is my favorite gal in yet?"

Ah, and there was one of those people right now.

You put down the rag you were using to clean a table and rush to the front entrance, greeting the man before you with a friendly smile. "Hiya, Al. When am I ever not in?"

"Hm, that's true. Silly me for asking."

Alastor Thompson. Quite the man he was, well known around these parts for his popular radio show that broadcasts every week. There wasn't anyone in town who didn't know who Alastor was.

"Hi Al!"

"Morning Alastor!"

"How have you been, Al?"

Especially the ladies...

"Morning ladies, I've been fine." He nods his head to a small group of women, siting at a near by table. It was no question as to just why every woman in town swooned over Alastor. He was quite the looker. He always dressed neatly, never a hair out of place or a speck of dust to be seen. He was tall, and while not muscular, he was fairly toned. Including his face, soft, but had that sharp jawline that drove women wild.

His smooth tawny skin was flawless. Even had a few beauty marks speckled here and there. One right below his left eye and one on the bottom of the right side of his jaw. His chocolate colored hair, perfectly curled. And when the sun hit it just right, it seemed to shine. He sports pearly whites, straight and even when he smiled. And his voice, what's not to like there? So full of life, it'd get anyone inspired. And at times, so smooth and soothing, to lull you right to sleep.

Alastor turns his attention back to you. "You just clock in?" He asked. "I did. You know I try not to be late if I can help it." You tell him. "You here for your usual?" You ask stepping behind the counter. "You know it!" Alastor takes a seat in front of me.

You start up the coffee maker and wait for it to heat up, as you waited I walked back to the counter. "You have a show to do today right?" You asked. Alastor nods. "Sure do. I hope you'll tune in." He says as he rests his head on his hand. "I always do." You say before grabbing the fresh brewed cup of coffee.

"Black coffee, just how you like it." You say setting the mug down in front of him. "I don't see how you can drink that." You joke. Alastor chuckles and takes the cup. "We can't all like our coffee with more than half the bag of sugar added to it." He teases. You roll your eyes. "I just don't like bitter coffee."

"I just don't like sugar water." Alastor smirks. You can't help but crack a smile. "Now listen here-"

"Y/n! We got three more orders!" Called one of the chefs. "Oops." You mutter before calling back. "Be right there!" You look to Alastor with a apologetic look. "Sorry."

"No, go on. I don't want to keep you from your work." He tells me. "I wish you could." You mutter before hurrying off. You rush the orders out as fast as you could before returning to Alastor. "Sorry about that." You pant slightly.

"No need to apologize." Alastor says after taking another sip of his coffee. "I'm afraid I have to run too. The broadcast is gonna start a little early today." He reaches into his pocket as he talks. "Oh, so soon?" You sigh. "It's such a drag without you here, Al." You say under your breath. Alastor chuckles and takes some money out of his pockets before handing it to me.

"Keep the change, dear."

You look at the money with wide eyes. "Al! This is way too much, you only ordered one coffee." Alastor holds his hand up. "I want you to have it." He insists. "Alastor..."

"Y/n." Alastor says, his tone teetering with firmness. You sigh and take the money. "Alright. But Alastor, you really shouldn't do this. That's your money that you earned."

"Y/n, I wouldn't say no to a little extra cash coming my way, if I were in your shoes." Alastor says quietly. "And I know how your boss is..." You sigh again and shrug. "I'm grateful for your help Al, but-"

"You haven't fully accepted my help, Y/n." Alastor cuts me off. He stands up from his chair and tucks his wallet back into his pant's pocket. "Please, meet me at Mimzy's alright? I want to discuss that offer I made with you again." Before you could protest, Alastor was making his way out. "I'll see you around!"

"Bye..." You mutter before begrudgingly getting back to work.

For as long as you've worked in that diner, you should be use to having sore feet by the end of the day. But of course, you never were. You pop your back and head for the door, before you could leave, you were stopped by the sound of your boss' voice.

"Y/n, a word please."

You held back the urge to groan before turning to face him. Your boss was a tall man, with a scruffy patch of hair on his chin and neck, and sported a round pot belly. He constantly smelled of cigar smoke, as he would take smoke breaks quite often. You walk towards him and speak with the respect you've always had for him, as false as it was.

"Yes sir?"

"You weren't at the top of your game today. I have a feeling it's cause of that radio host who's always coming in here." He said with a slight scowl. "I don't need one of my best waitresses distracted by someone like that. I'll loose money like that."

"But I managed to get everyone's orders out to them. I was only a little behind with a few." You explain. "A little? That's a little too much, if you ask me. Keep that slack up, and consider your pay cut." Your boss crosses his arms

"Cut? But I-"

"Y/n." My boss eyed you, warning you to keep quiet. You did as he wanted and let him speak. "I wouldn't prefer to do that to you. You are one the good ones, a real hard worker. Now, I want no more chitchat with that man during work hours, you hear me?"

You nod. "Yes sir."

"Good. I know he's your friend, but if you want to talk, do it on your own time. But, if you're really in need of a friend...you always know where to find me." His grin made your skin crawl.

"M-Mhm." You nod again. "Goodnight sir..." You say before quickly making for the exit. You didn't stop my pace until you were good and far from the diner.

You finally slow down to a walk and make your way back home. Remembering that you needed to meet Alastor later, you took a shower and got dressed in something more casual and head back out.

You go to Mimzy's. A popular lounge joint where lots of live performances take place. Mimzy was the woman who owned the place. She was a good friend of Alastor's, you knew her fairly well. You could hear the jazz from outside of the building before you went inside.

You took a moment to enjoy the band up on stage, and the pretty women who sang along to the music. Then you make your way towards the back, where Alastor would be waiting. In the back, was one of the private rooms, only available for special guests and of course, those who could afford it.

There was a buff man outside of the door, who stopped you. Once you told him who you were and what you were here for, he allowed you in.

Inside, was Alastor, he sits up a little straighter upon noticing you. "Y/n! Im glad you made it." You smile and approach him. "Well, I can't say I came to hear out your offer. But I did want to see you." You say, taking a seat next to him.

"Y/n, I don't like that you're living check to check." Alastor starts. "And I don't care for your boss either." 

"Yes, you've made that clear." You nod. "But I can't accept your offer Alastor. I wouldn't feel right, doing that to you." Alastor scoffed. "The only thing you'd be doing to me, is giving me peace of mind. Please, Y/n."

What he was offering, was to find you a new place to stay, as well as get you a new job. All he would have to do, is flash a smile and a stack of cash to make it happen. Until that happens, he wanted me to live with him, rent free.

You couldn't ask him to do all that. You would feel so selfish, you wouldn't be able to do that without repaying him in some way. Though he tells you he would not allow you to do that. You  appreciated he wanted to do that out of the kindness of his heart, but you just couldn't let yourself accept that kind of offer.

You were fine, sure you were on the poorer side, but you were  fine. You still had a roof over your head, I manage to feed yourself and keep yourself warm at night. As tempting as that offer was, You just couldn't accept it.

Stubborn, is what most would call you for that. Or just downright stupid. Alastor was such a sweethear, but you can take care of yourself. 

"Alastor, I can't. Now, if that's all you wanted to talk to me about then..." You began to stand up from the couch, but Alastor took your hand, you paused. "Alright, we don't have to talk about that anymore tonight. But you're here now, stay a while." Said Alastor, with that same charming smile he always wore.

And how could you resist? You couldn't, that's how. You decided to stay and talk with Alastor a little longer, even had a drink or two. But, as the night went on, your exhaustion grew. Work really does take it out of you. Alastor offered to walk you home.

You two continued to talk as we went on your way.

"I never did ask, how have you been getting along Al?" You ask him. Alastor hums. "Well, I suppose. The same old, same old. I fear I am beginning to loose inspiration." 

"That's not good. Why do you think that is?" You look up at him, Alastor kept his gaze forwards. "Perhaps I need fresh topics, the radio show will go stale if I don't find something to catch everyone's attention soon." He answers. "I was thinking of maybe covering something I've never touched on before."

"That would be a good start." You say before turning my attention back ahead. We soon arrived at your apartment building. You didn't miss the slight grimace in Alastor's expression. "I'll never get use to looking at this old place." He mutters. 

"I have." You chuckle before turning to him. "Thank you for walking me home." 

"Anytime, darling. You know I'd never let you walk home alone this late if I can help it. Much too dangerous." Alastor tells me. You smile softly. "Goodnight, Al." You stand on my tip-toes and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. 

His smile widens. "Goodnight, Y/n." 

You walk up the stairs and enter the building, then make your way up to your room, ready to finally end the night.

A/N: And, there is the first chapter of a new series! I hope you all enjoy it so far!

And just a reminder, this new series, will be posted along side Fallen. Maybe not at the same time of publishing each chapter, but still, together. Expect the second chapter soon~

Alastor is so gender goals you guys I just

I COULD HOPE TO EVER BE SO STYLISH (and zesty tbh)

Also he sounds so fucking cool like I wanna sound like that wtf

— ex-husband! gojo x reader

read part 2 here

cw: angst. just pure angst. co-parenting, brief mentions of miscommunication, fluff if you squint…

a/n: repost!! this post somehow got taken down last time. first ever ‘fic’ on here so i really appreciate any form of constructive criticism.

ex-husband! gojo who you are forced to see every fortnight due to the co-parenting arrangement set in place for your beloved 5-year-old daughter, sayuri.

ex-husband! gojo who would linger at your doorstep during drop-offs, almost as if searching for an unspoken invitation back into your life.

ex-husband! gojo who would intentionally leave a bunch of his belongings at your place, even if it was something minor like chewing gum, just to find a reason to pop by again.

ex-husband! gojo who would occasionally call you ‘princess’ or ‘baby’ out of habit, catching himself mid-sentence and playing it off casually.

ex-husband! gojo who would gently hold the hand of your precious daughter sayuri during his pickup, leading her to his car for the two weeks they’ll spend together. he would cast a glance back at you at least once, his heart beating rapidly when he caught your gaze. oh, how he wishes you could be a complete family.

ex-husband! gojo who would try to conceal the sadness in his eyes when sayuri innocently asks why mommy and daddy can’t live together. he struggles to find the right words that won’t break her little heart or reveal the depths of his own.

ex-husband! gojo who would still keep a family picture of you, him and sayuri as his wallpaper. a bittersweet reminder of what he once had before he threw it all away.

ex-husband! gojo who, during some of sayuri’s school events, finds himself involuntarily stealing glances at you.

ex-husband! gojo who clings onto the hope that one day you’ll look at him the way you used to, even if it was just for a fleeting moment, even though deep inside, he knew that the shattered fragments of your heart could never be mended

ex-husband! gojo who, on sayuri’s birthdays, buys her two gifts — one for her and one for you, unable to break the tradition of making you feel special, even if it’s just a little.

ex-husband! gojo who, on a particularly lonely night, contemplates sending you late-night text messages, only to delete them before hitting send. some bridges were just never meant to be rebuilt.

ex-husband! gojo who would endure restless hours, plagued by the thoughts of whether you would eventually move on and perhaps find a person that wasn’t him to claim as your lover. part of him yearned for you to choose him, and him only. that your heart will only have room for him and no one else. yet, despite the pain having a hold on his heart, he suppressed his selfish desires, opting for your happiness even if it lies beyond him. he hoped that, even if you decide to move on from him, that chosen person will bring you unparalleled happiness. whoever you decide to move onto would be the luckiest man, or woman ever — for satoru never judges. he hopes that he or she would hold you tenderly as you drifted to slumber, and shower your face with affectionate kisses the time the morning commenced. he wished for your heart to mend, even if it meant it would beat to a different rhythm. maybe, this was fate’s way of biting back at him.

ex-husband! gojo who wishes he would’ve treated you better during your marriage with him. he wished he would’ve listened to you more — the subtle nuances in your voice and the silent cries for understanding that went unnoticed till it was too late. he wanted to make you smile again, even if it was the last time he’d ever get the privilege to see your toothy grin.

ex-husband! gojo who dreams of a parallel universe where he had never let go. where he never signed those damned divorce papers in the first place. where the family portrait on the wall of his bedroom room tells a different story — one of enduring love.

ex-husband! gojo who is soon learns to be grateful that you two are civil towards each other, even if it was majorly due to the co-parenting arrangement. a life like this was better than a life without you at all.

and yet ex-husband! gojo would wish to restart everything if he could.

ex-husband! gojo who promises to love you properly in his next life. and the next. and the next.

© MISSUKIYO | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

Cat with no trust issues