Something Unexpected - Lucifer Headcanons

Something Unexpected - Lucifer Headcanons

𝐀/𝐍: A fluffy bulleted fanfic in the form of bulleted points and a dash of headcanons, featuring the apple daddy of hell himself, Lucifer ;)

This is mostly me simping for the short, awkward duck-loving lil guy, and also experimenting with writing for his character.

Anyways, enjoy!

. . .

🎪 When you met Lucifer, you were honestly shell-shocked. He was so... whimsical, and captivating, maybe a bit awkward, and with his ringleader getup, it made him look equally as silly as he seemed. He just... wasn't whom you were expecting at all.

🎪 "Charlie... That's your dad!?"

🎪 "Well... Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?"

🎪 "Look at him!" He didn't seem anything like the Lucifer you'd heard stories of from your parents, who tried to scare you away from debauchery and sin with their over-exaggerated tales from their biblical teachings.

🎪 They didn't exactly pay off, clearly.

🎪 But this? This was absolutely not who you thought you had to protect Charlie from.

🎪 You were the 'mom' of the Hazbin Crew, always looking out for everyone, and earning yourself a soft, irreplaceable spot in their hearts. And you clearly had a soft spot for Charlie, and that set off many initial alarm bells for Lucifer.

🎪 He didn't want to have another Alastor on his hands.

🎪 Lucifer cornered you about this, of course, and you were still grappling with the fact that he wasn't how you thought he was going to be at all.

🎪 And you turned out to be just as unexpected...

🎪 “I’m just worried about her… She has such a big heart, and I just don’t want her to get hurt. I should know what it’s like to be taken advantage of by people I put my trust and love into."

🎪 Though he is slightly curious about that, he decides that perhaps it'd be nice to have someone checking up on Charlie from time to time, and there is no way he's encouraging Alastor's presence anywhere near her.

🎪 You also found his love and overprotectiveness for his daughter quite endearing, although it was insufferable to watch them be so awkward around each other in the beginning.

🎪 So, you agreed to watch over Charlie for Lucifer, making sure to encourage her dreams in his stead. For Charlie's happiness, and because, well, why would you say no? You were already looking after her before.

🎪 As soon as Lucifer leaves, Charlie is bounding up to you with a wide smile, taking your hands in hers and bouncing up and down on the carpeted floors, so hard she's making indents with her hooves.

🎪 "Oh, isn't it great!? He believes in me! Me! I thought that after, well everything that happened with Mom, that he'd..." her eyes grow sullen as the mention of her mother sours her mood, and you brush a hand against her cheek with a gentle, reassuring smile.

🎪 "I have a feeling he always has, Charlie. He just never knew how to say it. And sometimes, when a parent sees themselves in their own children, it... Terrifies them." You turn to an apple-paned window with a melancholic gaze.

🎪 "He's just trying his hardest for you because he doesn't want to see you fall like he did. You can't fall farther than Hell, but if you try..." you trail off, and your implication held heavy in the air.

🎪 "But he loves you, and I know that his pride for you knows no bounds, and nor does his worry, Charlie." The demoness brightens at your words, practically tearing up as she grips your midsection in a hug. "Thank you," she whispers, and you ruffle her pale blonde hair with a fond smile.

🎪 Little did you know, Lucifer had been silently stalking watching the both of you from afar, and he leaves that evening with a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

🎪 As he continues to visit the hotel, he checks in with you for a moment upon the establishment's progress, Charlie, and casual conversation in general.

🎪 As more time passes, and Lucifer makes more and more frequent visits to the hotel - much to Alastor’s chagrin - after spending some precious time in his daughter's company, he'll ask around for your whereabouts.

🎪 You'll both naturally fall into more casual conversation outside of the hotel's progress, and you soon realize that there was more beneath the surface of Hell's estranged ruler.

🎪 Lucifer was captivating, alluring in every form of the word. A creative, inspiring soul who once held dreams and aspirations, and now, the fire that once burned within him was passed onto his daughter.

🎪 And you could see his desperation to keep that flame inside of Charlie alight.

🎪 Lucifer slowly grows fond of your company, giving you little sculptures of ducks, and spending near hours raving about his little creations with you.

🎪 In a haze of his sleep-deprived subconscious, he even made a little duckie for you, complete with all of your defining features that he found the most attractive prominent.

🎪 It ended up being his personal comfort/therapy duck until you found it, and putting together the resemblance, teased him about it slightly, to which he kept stubbornly denying it.

🎪 "Okay, but you have to admit, it's clear where you got your inspiration from," you held the duckie up to your face, noting just how precise Lucifer was when making it. Huh, he really hit the mark with this one.

🎪 The king of Hell turned on his heel, his jacket and hat discarded to the side, and leaving him in his striped circus-patterned dress shirt and ivory slacks.

🎪 "I don't know what you're talking about," Lucifer bent over his desk, trying to look like he was actually doing something, but his heart and mind were going a mile a minute. Damn his adorable hyperfixations!

🎪 "Maybe it was just coincidence! I don't know, sometimes I get inspired by things that I..." he glanced at you as you raised an eyebrow at him, and the small red circles plastered against his moonlight-stricken skin glowed a bright red.

🎪 "J-Just coincidence. Uh-huh, that's right..." he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince you, or himself with that one.

🎪 Oh, yeah, you totally bought that bullshit.

🎪 "Well, for what it's worth, you did a pretty good job. This is your best one, yet!" You beam at him and tuck the small duck figure under your arm.

🎪 "So... can I keep it? Pretty please?"

🎪 Lucifer shoves some papers and blueprints off of his desk, completely focused on his work instead of how beautiful your smile was. "No."

🎪 After that, he creates a little duck of himself to keep beside the one in your likeness upon his desk whenever you aren't around. He inches them closer together every now and then or whenever he gets nervous or jittery.

🎪 Slowly but surely, Lucifer began to fall. And he is terrified of it. He's starting to yearn for your company, visit the hotel simply to seek you out, and this familiar thudding feeling is giving him a headache that can't be soothed by the fizzling warmth of alcohol.

🎪 Charlie begins to notice her father's strange behavior, and how it happens particularly around you...

🎪 Of course, the eccentric princess puts it all together, and she tries to keep it a secret, she really does, but the fact that her dad could actually be falling in love with one of her closest friends, and that he might finally be able to move on from her mother makes her heart overflow with a plethora of emotions.

🎪 The poor girl ends up spilling the details of your rom-com of a love life to Vaggie while hugging a pillow, crying joyful tears as her girlfriend chuckles and simply kisses her forehead with a small smile.

🎪 "Don't worry, hon. I'm sure it'll all be fine in the end. Just sleep it off, okay? And don't, I mean DON'T get involved in their love life, alright? Your dad needs some time to figure this out on his own."

🎪 "But I really want to help them! I know she likes him back; I just know it! And besides, he'll never confess on his own-!"

🎪 "It'll all be solved later, don't worry, Charlie. Besides, we can't just drop everything for this, can we? The hotel still needs our help,"

🎪 "Their love needs our help," Vaggie raised an expectant eyebrow, and Charlie receded with a pout. "But I guess it could wait..."

🎪 "Attagirl."

🎪 Meanwhile, as you toss and turn in your own bed, a deep fondness for the king that ran deeper than you would like to admit blossomed in your heart and was beginning to see the first rays of radiant sunlight that just so happened to be your unconditional adoration for the king of Hell.

🎪 Lucifer could make you laugh, smile, and gasp with a wonderment that you hadn't ever felt before, and your heart began to ache for more. More of his presence, and his whimsical, goofy nature that time had taught you to relish and look forward to.

🎪 All you could do was sleep, close your eyes and hope that these feelings would stamp themselves out soon.

🎪 But all of that proved to be futile as you woke with a start in the middle of the night, the hazy visions of clipped wings, magnificent and radiant in all their seldom glory, remained fresh in your mind.

🎪 The glow of a shiny red apple faded from your vision, as you clenched your arms and buried your face into your pillow.

🎪 You were in for a long night...

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This was... surprisingly really fun and cute to write! I'll definitely be continuing this, since I really want to flesh it out more

Once again, please, PLEASE use the taglist for my sake 😭🙏 it can get sort of overwhelming when I can't remember certain usernames and tag them, and it's just to make things easier for me.

Oh and Lucifer's aesthetic is circuscore, of course. Underrated aesthetic frfr 🎪💫🍎

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 2

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: Been cooking' this one up for a while now (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I'm not entirely averse to writing smut, just inexperienced at it lmao. I won't gatekeep, though. If the people ask, then they shall receive.  

Enjoy!

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟖𝟎𝟗 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝓼𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮… | 𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪

. . .  

The scent of bitter steamed coffee beans brought great relief to the pent-up radio host as he silently poured himself a cup with a content, close-lipped smile.  

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Alastor looked out the window to catch an eyeful of the radiant sunrise that had graced the horizon and streamed curves of sunlight into his manor, basking it in a feverish crimson glow that faded into a brilliant vermillion.  

Fingernails rapped against the cold marble counter as he took a sip, rejuvenating himself into the chatterbox of a radio host that he usually was. As he hummed along to a little tune in his mind, Alastor allowed his thoughts to silently drift away from reality as he pictured the lovely little dame sleeping the morning away just a door away from his own room. 

You had done something to him, and despite his persistent Cheshire grin, madness and uncertainty lurked beneath his charming expression that won the crowds over wherever he went.  

He couldn’t help it. You were just so unbothered, which bothered him to no end.  

The problem was, you just didn’t care about how renowned nor how respected he was not only as a radio star, but also a man. You were normally quite modest, as was the custom for his time, but had no issue with sticking it to disrespectful scum that dared to cross you, and by extension, him.  

Though, he supposed he didn’t mind it as much as it used to. It had irked him when you had first met, when you treated him as an old friend you met on the schoolyard rather than an esteemed man of his time, your clear superior in every facet.  

But now, after all the evenings spent dancing the twilight away, soft-spoken poetry beside the fire, and spending sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed, with a heat in his lower abdomen and a sudden urge to visit your chambers in the middle of the night...  

The mere thought of you was becoming unbearable, yet a Godsent blessing all the same.  

Alastor took another long, slow sip of coffee and turned his attention to the radio just left of him. It was an old thing his mother bought for him when she found out about his new job as a host at the radio station; she was ecstatic, to say the least, handing him the antique with tears in her large, brown eyes as she wept with happiness at her son’s success.  

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and closing and footsteps bounding down the stairs brought Alastor’s attention to the staircase that led into the foyer. 

“Good morning~!” Ah, that voice. That buttered, dulcet harmony he wished to soak in every second of the day, the one that made his heart pound uncontrollably and his mind race with hazy, sappy pictures of him and his little darling.  

He didn’t know what his life would’ve been like without you, and he honestly didn’t want to.  

You bounced into the kitchen with fervor, rocking on the heels of your feet as you scooted next to him and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, my dear! How was your night?” Alastor subconsciously leaned forward to get closer to you, memorizing every freckle and acne scar on your face and enjoying the soft pink that tinged your cheeks. 

“As good as eva’!” You blessed him with a delighted smile as you took a sip, before eyeing his strong cup of black coffee with a look of judgment.  

Your nose scrunched up in that cute little pout that entertained Alastor so, making him want to reach up and smooth out the small infliction on your face with his thumb.  

Alastor pushed that intrusive – but not unwanted – thought away as you side-eyed him carefully.  

“Hm, whatever wakes you up. Now, come on! You promised me an outing yesterday!” With a teasing elbow to his side and a beam that could rival the Sun’s glowing rays, you were already waiting for him by the front door, and he realized you had been wearing the ivory sundress he bought for you a few days ago when he took you out on the town to celebrate your first day living in his home.

With a soft tsk, Alastor took your woolen winter jacket off of the antlers of the stately coat rack beside the front door, sliding it over your arms while shaking his head.

"Wouldn't want you freezing out there, darling," you rolled your eyes and shifted the wooly jacket on your shoulders, marching towards the front door with your nose in the air.

"You worry too much! I'd have been fine without it. It'll be spring soon, anyway." Alastor raised an eyebrow.

He had to stifle the urge to point out that it'd be two months to March, and it rained incessantly during the months of spring, lest he want to miss the reservation and sit there all morning arguing over the temperature.

“Careful, now. Perhaps I should cut you off the caffeine,” Alastor chuckled and graciously opened the door for you like the gentleman he was.  

“Haha! Aw, you’re so funny! Cut me off and I’ll cut off your arm,” you replied sweetly without missing a beat.  

Alastor simply laughed, undeterred in the slightest by your unusual humor. He had grown quite fond of it in the past few months, though he was absolutely floored by it the first time you made a joke like that. 

At least, he thought it was a joke. You were quite irritable when sleep-deprived, to his amusement and your disdain.  

Besides, the thought of you? Cutting him up? Such an absurd, comical notion only served to make him laugh harder.  

With a giggle, you stepped over the threshold and nodded gratefully at Alastor, who smiled back and joined you on the rocky path through the marshy forest that grew around his home.  

Subconsciously, you reached for Alastor’s already offered arm without even looking, and he could’ve swooned at how you instinctively held him. Touched him.  

A comfortable silence settled between you two as you strolled through the dewy thicket, content to simply be in one another’s company while Alastor snuck subtle glances at his excitable little darling that strode next to him at a steady pace.  

Large, curious eyes gaped at everything around you as if you’d never seen a tree before. An adorable sight, he figured, one that convinced him that keeping you around for just a bit longer couldn’t hurt, and Alastor did not wish to hurt you.  

How silly, that a mere expression from his cute little doll could make him melt under its warmth akin to the sweltering summer Sun in the middle of July. He was practically a slave to it.  

Alastor realized he had been outright staring at you, and he silently cursed himself as he quickly turned his gaze away.  

The morning chorus composed of waking songbirds and rising cicadas filled the content quiet as you took a closer step out of the forest and towards the city. You resisted the temptation to relax your head against Alastor’s arm, to get just a little closer to him, though every glimpse of the young, chipper radio host weakened your resolve further.  

How could it not? He was the perfect gentleman in your eyes, polished and refined to the highest caliber. Sweet and charming, and he clearly detested laying a malicious or unwanted hand on any woman. And boy, could the man cook!  

It was clear to you which parent was more present in his life, but you made no comment on it in the months that you had known him. You didn’t wish to brush up upon such a sensitive subject, especially since you were quite similar to him in that aspect. If anyone brought up your loving mother, who tried to provide every advantage she could offer to her little girl, you would’ve broken down in tears, years of bottled-up emotions overflowing your tired, overworked heart.  

But then Alastor came along and helped you up, making your head spin and your world turn upside-down. He gave you stability, comfort, everything your mother hoped you would one day find in a husband. 

The cheeky, mischievous, dapper, handsome, goddamned bastard. 

You sighed with a smile, forlorn but hiding against a mask of demureness.  

“It’s beautiful here.”  

“It truly is.” Alastor observed the thick, swamp-like forest with a fond smile, before his eyes landed on you. His darling, his little blessing, his diamond in the rough. These feelings... perhaps they wouldn’t be so bad, after all. They could bring about something new, a slight change in routine that he had long since needed, but never discovered.  

Not until his doll stumbled into his life.  

Alastor’s carefree smile brought you a great giddiness that bubbled deep within your chest and rose to warm your cheeks. Here we go again.  

Nervously, you peeked up at your handsome, ever-smiling escort, trying not to completely fangirl like a child at how close you both were as the marshy path turned into a stark-black road covered in rubble and pebbles.  

“Al?”

“Hm?”

“Where are you taking me?”  

Alastor’s smile seemed to grow even wider at your confusion. “Oh, you’ll see, my dear~.”  

You huffed and pouted, turning your head away from him so he couldn’t spot your blush. God, why did he have to call you that, standing in the pure, radiant sunlight and looking so perfect and handsome and kissable-?  

“We’re here!” You hadn’t even realized how long you had been walking as you found yourself in front of a quaint little diner that you had been eyeing for quite some time.  

And, of course, Alastor noticed. He knew everything about you. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t pay the utmost attention to his darling?  

As Alastor opened the door for you and stepped inside behind you, he reveled in the small gasp you let out, as well as your mouth falling slightly agape so that he had to close it with a single, slim finger.  

"You don't want to catch flies, my dear~.” You blushed and nodded as you continued to look around in awe.  

The diner was quite vintage by today’s standards, and as such, it held the intimate charm that no other restaurant could seem to replicate. There was even a little corner selling small bobs and trinkets, antique ornaments and a small, dusty wooden music box with faded paint engraved in the sides. 

Like a cozy, nostalgic retreat, the restaurant gave you the sense of a home. A home that your mother never built for you, as she preferred to teach you to survive in this cruel world. But she did her best, didn’t she? She tried, didn’t she? 

You oppressed those thoughts as you bounced on your heels in front of the desk, where Alastor was making his reservation.  

Of course, he planned this.  

You could probably shack up in that diner and it would feel like it was any other visit to your grandmother’s house, you figured as you subconsciously gripped Alastor’s arm even tighter with stars in your eyes.  

While you were bouncing on your heels like a child, smiling and gushing contently at everything you could possibly lay your eyes on in the small corner restaurant, Alastor was making sharp eye contact with the busboy who leaned attentively over the counter, trying to get a better look at the pretty young flower who wandered into his view like a naive doe.  

Alastor didn’t like that look, to say the least.  

He knew it all too well. The kind of darkened, sinister expression that only a predator could wear.  

He brought a slender hand carefully around your shoulder and pulled you close, making you squeak and look up at him with wide eyes.  

Alastor ignored your confusion in favor of pulling you tightly into him, and the young man scowled slightly before snatching two menus off the counter and leading you both towards a cozy little table tucked into the very back of the restaurant. 

Small string bulbs hung above you, basking the table in a warm halo of light as you sat down, and you began ordering your drinks. 

"A glass of water will do," Alastor didn't take his eyes off you since you sat down, enjoying how the flickering candle lit up your face and made your eyes seem illuminated in the dim light. 

"And you, Ma'am?" 

"Just some orange juice, please," you smiled politely as the busboy scribbled down your orders and left the both of you in silence. 

After a while of admiring the scenery of the restaurant for the hundredth time, you finally turned back to Alastor and folded your hands in your lap. "Thank you for taking me here, Al'. It’s really nice here!”  

"Anything for you, my dear!" Alastor rested his chin on intertwined hands, leaning forward until he was only a foot away from you. 

A sly Cheshire smile curled the slim tips of his lips upward. "How are you finding things here, darling? I do hope I have been of favorable company~..."

You waved him away with a roll of your eyes, "Oh, please, you know I love it here. I couldn't imagine leaving now..." you trailed off softly, thinking about how you up and dropped everything for some guy. 

Then again, he wasn't just some stupid fling that you wanted to leech off of. You genuinely enjoyed Alastor's energetic, yet suave nature, his spirited presence, his voice... 

God, you sounded like a lovesick teenager. 

"So, about your radio show..." 

Alastor immediately perked up, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. 

"Hm? What about it, my dear?" 

You clenched and unclenched your fists as you worked yourself up to ask. "C-Could I watch you?" You nearly slapped yourself for your wording, convinced that he could see the blush instantly spreading across your face, even in the dim lighting. 

Alastor raised his eyebrows as he blinked in surprise, his smile - just for a millisecond - faltering slightly in uncertainty as the gears turned in his head. 

Shaking off his surprise, Alastor grinned widely at your flustered expression as your fists bunched up your beautiful sundress in frustration, your eyes looking at everything but him as you all but twiddled your fingers as he asked for you to draw out the question. 

"I mean, could I uh... Listen to you? L-Like in person?" You looked about ready to hurl yourself out the window as Alastor tried to make himself look as if he was thinking about it, when in reality his mind was going ninety miles a minute. 

The sadistic, yet ever-adoring part of him thought that seeing your cute little face all flushed and abashed with embarrassment had to be the highlight of this day. Another part of him swelled with pride that you wanted to make a little visit to him in his recording booth.

Then again, you both had been working at the same studio for a while, and what's an hour off of work for his lovely little Doll? You deserved it for working so hard, after all!

Before Alastor could come up with a response, however, the waiter butted himself right into your very riveting conversation that he had absolutely no authority to interrupt. 

"Here you go, one water for you, and one orange juice for the stunning little lady," he flashed you a wide grin and took out his notepad and pen.  

You both hesitantly ordered, before Alastor answered your question with a strained smile.

"Why, of course you may, darling! I'd be honored to have my favorite listener see one of my broadcasts up close," Alastor leaned back with a carefree grin and a sip of water, enjoying how elated you seemed at the thought of spending a simple broadcast session with him. Then again, he supposed anyone would be falling to their knees at the opportunity, but the fact that it was you made the feeling all the more palpable. 

When the food arrived, you both ate and conversed, with you bursting at the seams with excitement at the possibility of visiting Alastor while he hosted his radio broadcast, and his mind conjuring very work-inappropriate outfits he could choose to make you wear, claiming you'd look stunning in all of them. 

"Oh, but I really couldn't wear this... I mean look at it!" 

"But you'd look just dazzling in this, my Doe, I just know it! You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you~?"

"I suppose not, Sir..."

Alastor could imagine your timid, adorable little face tinged with pink as you handed him his morning coffee just how he liked it - dark as his soul - in a tight little pencil skirt and a form-fitting chiffon blouse. 

His eyes drifted elsewhere around your form as he envisioned your skirt riding up those supple hips of yours as you nervously rubbed up against him as he took his favorite knife, slicing off each one, his predatory smile growing with each pop. 

Soon, the sun had fully risen above the horizon, a luminous, pale light tinged with yellow basking the forest in captivating morning light. With a single glance down at his watch, Alastor’s brows rose when he realized you’d spent nearly an hour at the diner. 

“Oh, dear! It seems we’ve lost track of time,” he rose from his seat and offered you a hand to pull you along with him. 

“Let me pay this time,” but Alastor held out a hand before you could do the great disservice of paying for your food as he threw your waiter a fifty-dollar bill and headed for the exit, excitement lacing his every step as he pushed you out of the restaurant. The earlier for his radio show, the better! 

You tried to open the door for Alastor this time, but he smoothly slipped in behind you and twisted the knob, smiling even wider when you slapped him playfully on the shoulder. 

"After you, my dear~," he grinned with a mischievous glint dancing within his honey-brown eyes.

"Thanks, Al’." you grinned up at him before turning to wave at the man who served you at the counter. 

"Have a good one, beautiful," your waiter gave you a flirtatious wink, and you were too stunned at his forwardness to respond as Alastor practically forced you out of the diner with a peeved smile that dipped slightly into a scowl. 

"Well, he was quite friendly, wasn't he?" You nearly snorted at Alastor's obvious bad mood, having never seen him so irked before. 

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous~?" It was your turn to tease the ever-grinning radio host as he spun towards you so fast your own head spun. 

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" He sounded almost offended as he huffed and crossed his arms with nose in the air. Drama queen... 

"Well, you were quite friendly with him," you muttered sarcastically, before squinting up at him in the sunlight with a furrowed brow. "And what was with grabbing me like that, right in front of the poor guy?"

"He was... ogling you, darling. I couldn't stand for such disrespect to my friend, especially on our lovely outing this morning!"

You gaped at him incredulously, "I remember no such thing! Perhaps you're seeing things, or you just wanted an excuse to hold me~," you were surprised to see a tinge of blush coat Alastor's cheeks, just a small spot of it before it quickly faded.

"This is why I don't like it when you drink coffee, my dear! You're too disagreeable," his lips jutted out in a soft pout, and his eyes remained solely on the road as his hand tightened on your shoulder, but he couldn't keep his frown for long as you started laughing at him.

Your chiming laughter ended abruptly with a gasp when a rough hand tugged on your wrist. Looking back, you saw your waiter with sweat sheening his face, his hair messy from clearly running the entire way outside to catch up to you and Alastor. 

"H-Hello...?" 

"Hey, there, *ahem*, I, uh, I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to go out with me, sometime?" 

You blinked several times, processing his question before straining a polite smile and pulling your wrist away, but the young man wasn't budging.

"No thank you, sir, I'd rather walk with my friend now, as we both have places to be." The waiter didn't let up, pure desperation reflected in his eyes as he leaned towards you, and you recoiled from the stink of sweat and the uncomfortable heat that radiated off of him.

"Aw, c'mon, I promise we won't be long!"

"Excuse you, but I-!"

"Thank you for the kind offer, but my darling and I are about to go on a little stroll, so if you could kindly take your hands off of her..." Alastor laid his near bone-crushing grip upon the busboy's arm, ready to pry his hand off of you if necessary.

Perhaps I'll pry an arm off while I'm at it... 

"I wasn't talkin' to you, Sticks."  

"Hands. Off." Alastor's voice cut through the air like a sharpened butcher knife. It was the first time that you had ever witnessed the radio host's everlasting simper curl into a sneer, as his lips rose just enough above his gums in clear displeasure. 

And could he be blamed for it? It was enough to make his temper froth and burst beneath the surface at seeing such rotten, unworthy vermin think to lay a single finger on you. He was doing the public a service, getting rid of it. 

"G-Get off me! Fuckin' freak-" 

"As soon as you let go of the lady and apologize." Alastor retorted calmy with the waiter's wrist trapped in his tightening vice grip.

"I-It's fine, Alastor. Let him go," nervously you tugged on his rolled-up shirtsleeve, but when that didn't work, you squeezed his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to you so fast you thought you were going to get whiplash. 

"Let's go home, Al... Please?" Once again, he fell completely under the mercy of your wide, worried eyes, of you touching him. And willingly, that was. Alastor didn't need to beg, nor force himself upon you for attention.

Such an obvious fact had him preening with pride, and obviously had the insignificant worm dripping with envy as Alastor smirked down at the busboy. 

"Alastor...?" 

Snapping out of his little bout of victory, Alastor didn't need any further persuasion as he ripped the poor man's hand off of yours with an uncharacteristically phony smile. You then noticed, with a slight shiver up your spine, how alarmingly sharp his teeth seemed when they were bared like that. 

"If you insist, my dear." 

Alastor wrapped a slender hand around your shoulder and pushed you around towards the path where preserved red brick melded into a rocky dirt road as you tried to ignore the pained groans of that pesky little street rat behind you. 

Your walk back was spent in complete silence yet again, but now rather than a comfortable, mutual quiet, a tense atmosphere filled the air. 

The pastels of imminent dawn had fully faded when you both arrived at the house, and, ever the gentleman, Alastor kindly opened the door for you with a polite simper, and you shyly nodded in return before stepping inside. 

"Alastor, I..." 

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, my dear. Truly, I..." 

He sighed and clenched the gold-colored doorknob within his fist as he closed the front door behind him, "I hate seeing such disrespect to those of fairer means." 

You smiled softly. Oh, his mother raised him well, didn't she? "Well, thank you for protecting me. I just can't stand men like that, y'know? Nice to know we have a couple of good ones out there."

"I just don't want to think about what I would've done if I were alone," the radio host immediately sensed your unease as you rubbed your arms nervously.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't ever let anyone hurt you." Alastor murmured with a gentle hand on your cheek. He'd be sure to never allow you outside without his supervision, not with yahoos like that idiotic scumbag running about. 

Your nervous smile melted into a small, grateful simper as you nodded and let him tussle your hair softly before patting the small of your back and pushing you upstairs. 

"Now, we have a lovely day ahead of ourselves, so go and get ready, so we can get to the studio in time." Looking down at his watch again, Alastor noted that it was now 8:06 in the morning, and his radio show began at 9:00 A.M. on the weekdays.

Alastor simpered to himself as morning light streamed across his face, casting shadows over his eyes and lips while he could only imagine the awe, you'd watch him with. 

Alastor had an hour to truly captivate you, capture you with only your attention. 

And soon, even that wouldn't be enough. 

He'd need to bind you to him, tie you to him heart, body, and soul. 

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Wow, that was a long one. Don't worry, I'm working on making the next chapter a lot shorter, but I had a lot of ideas stewing and I needed to put them somewhere.

I might consider uploading this to A03, if I find a way to dispel the infamous A03 Writer's Curse, so let me know if ya'll would read it on that platform, since I haven't posted anything on that website for a while now.

Thank you for reading! ৻(≧ᗜ≦৻)

. . .

➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

🙏let's hope this shit works

Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 4

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: I am SO GLAD that I got this out sooner- istg this was going to be SO MUCH LONGER but after extensive writing and editing, I finally found a flow that I vibe with, and I'm really excited for you all to read this one.

Happy reading :)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟏𝟕𝟖 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑶𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏

. . .

The weeks following your rendezvous at the diner passed by in a flurry, leaving you in a delighted tizzy as you and Alastor grew ever closer to one another. You couldn’t even count on both hands how many times he had spontaneously swept you off of your feet and pulled you into whatever shenanigans the cheeky radio star had in store. 

It was exhausting, but being with him was exhilarating all the same. 

And you could already tell you were in for quite the afternoon as he jaunted out of the recording booth, enthusiasm rolling off of him in waves. 

“Well, hello to you too, Al’,” you smiled and took off your headphones as Alastor straightened his bowtie with a haughty smirk, and you rolled your eyes. That man was ever the cocky one whenever you paid him a visit to his recording booth, as you never failed to shower him with compliments and applause at his performance. 

And seeing your awestruck face as you leaned towards the glass always made him more inclined to put on a show, just for you. 

“You were amazing out there, as always, of course,” Alastor chuckled and waved a hand dramatically in the air as if you’d said something completely preposterous. Praising Alastor was practically treason for you; the man simply could not take a compliment. 

“Oh, how you flatter me! I’m just doing my job, darling,” even oblivious little you could see that he was preening with pride, though your captivated stare trained on none other than him was all the praise Alastor would ever need. 

“That was great, Al’! One of your best performances, if I do say so, myself!” Your supervisor beamed with his hands on his hips, clearly as excited as Alastor, though for entirely different reasons. 

The radio host was still reeling with joy from the fiery sensation of your bewitched gaze adoringly trained on him, tracing his soft, handsome features with yearning eyes. 

He stole every glance at you throughout the broadcast that he could subtly manage; how your lips parted softly whenever Alastor spoke so boldly with his hands, how animated he seemed in the recording booth.

He noticed your quiet, melodic laughter that he practically breathed, the smile that he one dreamed of kissing, laying his lips against your warmth like he had captured sunlight itself between his teeth- 

“I think you should be here during recordings more often,” the young, spiffing producer muttered as he leaned over to you, leaving you in bashful laughter. Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly at the proximity, and he held no hesitation to step between you two and snake an arm around your shoulder. 

“Well, my dear, I believe this week’s recent success calls for a celebration! Hugo, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short. I’ve planned an afternoon for me and the lady, here,” his usual smile returned, and you could feel Alastor relax as his hand fell down your forearm, grasping it with a firm yet comfortable grip. 

Hugo raised a knowing eyebrow, his eyes switching between you two as he shrugged his shoulders. “I see how it is. Givin’ ol’ Hugo the boot, huh?” He opened the door for Alastor, taking a slight bow as the radio host guided you outside one of the studio’s many broadcasting rooms. 

“I get it. I’ll stay out of your way, Al’. Just treat her right, ya’ hear?” Hugo nudged Alastor’s arm, and you could feel your friend stiffen as his hand clenched your arm tighter than before, though he laughed the discomfort off with an even wider grin. But a small glimpse of his gums told you all you needed to know. 

“Oh, no, no, no! We’re nothing like that!” You shook your head vigorously as you subtly put yourself between him and your supervisor. “He’s just so good to me, you know? Such a good friend to have, especially with that slasher running around,” you shuddered for emphasis. 

Hugo raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, really? Heh, could’ve fooled me.” Striking teal eyes flickered to said radio host, whose smile had stiffened significantly to the point of looking almost painful. You shot down the very idea that you two could ever be in a relationship, though he did appreciate your interception from the unwanted physical contact. 

But did you truly resent the idea of being with him that much? 

“He’s just so kind, and he cooks like a real professional, too!” You practically sang Alastor’s praises as Hugo strode beside you two with his arms crossed while you walked through the studio, attempting a hasty getaway out the door and whisked away to be with each other in peace. 

“That so?” Hugo was gauging Alastor’s every reaction to your words, clearly not buying the fact that you two weren’t together, or at the very least, not interested in one another. 

An unrequited love, perhaps? But this broad’d off her rocker not to fall for a guy like him. 

You nodded vigorously at your supervisor as you walked with Alastor toward the exit. “A real sweet talker, too. Y’know, Al’, you could teach Hugo here a thing or two,” when your hand wrapped around his and squeezed, and all the built-up tension was suddenly released from his form. 

Alastor’s smile softened into something a bit more genuine as he looked down at you. 

“Aren’t you just darling? Almost makes me want to spoil my little surprise for you,” he tapped your nose with a wide grin, reveling in how you blinked in surprise before blushing and turning your head away. 

“Oh, you’ll be the one getting a surprise if you don’t stop with your nonsense...” You grumbled before waving to Hugo on your way out of the studio. “Have a good day, Hugo!”  

Once you crossed the threshold, the strawberry-blonde waved you off with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow as Alastor glanced back at him. He could already see the gears turning in the young producer’s head.  

Well, God save him if he got any ideas and started meddling where he wasn’t supposed to, like a certain acquaintance of his... 

Once you arrived in the parking lot, you pulled away from Alastor’s side so that you could enter the passenger seat of his car. The winter chill that had settled in the seats left you shivering, and you turned over to Alastor with a shudder and a wobbly smile. 

“Tough weather, huh? God, what I’d give for a hot chocolate...” 

What kind of man could he call himself if he left his darling trembling like a leaf in the wind, left to the unforgiving elements? 

Without any kind of hesitation, Alastor slipped off his jacket and lent it to you, despite your insistent protests. He had considered you before himself too much, and you really weren’t that cold, the car would heat up soon, and- 

“Take it, my dear. I can’t have you freezing before you meet my dear friend, after all,” Alastor carefully leaned over, his glasses slipping towards the edge of his pointed nose as he laid the jacket upon you. 

His carnivorous, half-lidded gaze devoured an eyeful of you as he pretended to be meticulously positioning the jacket on you, his fingers ghosting each curve of your waist, the give of your belly, tracing along the chub of your hips, your love handles. The lustful thoughts that seeped in with Alastor’s touch nearly broke his resolve to restrain himself, as his yearning gaze lingered around your womb. 

Alastor quickly sat back into his seat and buckled his own seatbelt before inserting his car keys into the hole, gripping them with whitening knuckles. 

“Thanks for the jacket. I was freezing over here,” you sighed and shivered in your seat. 

“Don’t mention it, darling,” the words smoothly fell off of his lips, as if he wasn’t mentally bashing himself for touching you like that, though each advance he held himself back from went unnoticed by you as you relaxed into the leather-clad car seat. 

The aroma of bittersweet pine and cinnamon overwhelmed your senses, and Alastor’s scent made you relax considerably as you snuggled into the jacket. 

You had been running around, taking orders and checking things off your task list all morning, only looking forward to Alastor’s broadcast the most that day. His soothing voice nearly lulled you to sleep, but you forced yourself awake, out of respect. 

The last tender words he spoke to you as you slept the car ride away, snoozing peacefully even as it came to a full stop in front of Alastor’s destination. 

You looked so peaceful, so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable tucked into his jacket, away from the prying eyes of the world and within his arms. 

How he wished your paths had crossed before everything that had happened, before Alastor’s infamously heinous deeds as the New Orleans Slasher. 

And how he wished his mother could’ve met you. 

Alastor admired your dozing form for a few more minutes, before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot and driving away into the bleak gray mist that had fallen over the city. 

. . . 

“We’re here, darling.” Like a switch, his voice instantly pulled you from your nap, and you groaned and stretched with a yawn. 

“Come along now. You don't want me to be late for my meeting, do you?” Alastor’s voice, normally at the highest volume possible, had fallen into a quiet, tender whisper as he gently knocked on the window, rousing you awake. 

“Oh, Alastor,” you mumbled sleepily, “Are we here already?” You rubbed your drooping eyes as he chuckled and slowly pulled you out of the vehicle. 

“Why, yes, we are darling. And I want you to be fully awake for when you meet my friend, now, so chop-chop!” He carefully situated his jacket onto your shoulders, and you both plundered through the snowy streets towards the sidewalks, where various shops and stores sat snug and warm and sheltering their inhabitants from the biting cold that nipped at your nose and pinched your cheeks with frostbite. 

Alastor steadied you upon the ice with careful hands snaked around your waist, though all it did was make you nearly slip from the surprise contact. He was getting particularly touchy, lately. Not that you were complaining. 

And who were you to complain of the fine, slender fingers, twisting and resting upon you, sharing their warmth and affection, when you clearly craved Alastor’s touch so? When your yearning gazes became more and more frequent with each passing day. 

You shook your head of such impish thoughts as you and Alastor strode closer to the row of quaint stores and shops.

“Ah, yes. This is the place,” you glanced from the nearly identical red brick buildings to the particular one that Alastor had stopped at.

A delicate, thin line of cursive was masterfully inscribed upon a large hanging sign, reading, “𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮'𝓼 𝓑𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮,” in a muted cerise pink. 

Your eyes scanned the fine chiffon-paned windows with wide eyes. Intricate designs lined with frills and lace stood proudly behind the glass, looking to be of Victorian descent, a more dignified, esteemed time of elegance. 

The high frilled collars and waist-choking corsets made you inwardly cringe as you and Alastor walked up the steps, and your uncertainty quickly faded when you stepped inside the boutique.  

It looked like a classical, cozy little parlor ripped straight out of a storybook, with a large grandfather clock in the corner and a row of bookshelves standing grandly beside a luxurious sofa chair, covered in dust and peeling slightly in some places, hinting at the age of the relic. 

The small ding of a bell rang once the door opened, and it was soon accompanied by a pair of quick footsteps heading down the hallway as a woman called out from behind the hardwood archway that seemed inappropriate for a clothing store. At least, that was what you had assumed it to be in the first place. 

“I’ll be right there! Don’t you move an inch, now!” The voice carried a welcoming lilt, like an old friend that you had gotten into trouble with more than several times in primary school. 

You peeked out from the small waiting area you had stepped into and were blessed with the sight of rows and rows of opulent, elegant dresses flooded the store that you were sure would have your wallet weeping should you dare to try paying for any of them. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting like that, I was just busy with another customer. Now, what can I do for you?”

You blinked in surprise, entirely not expecting the sight of the stately lady before you. Her face was kind, perhaps a bit playful, despite her imposing stature and air of sophisticated elegance she carried. 

She was the spitting image of each design that she precariously crafted, like a well-knowing yet mischievous auntie that you could sit down and chat over a cup of tea with for hours. 

“Uh, well,” you looked to Alastor, but he simply smiled down at you, being of absolutely no help whatsoever. “Well, he said that we were just here to meet a friend, so you should ask him,” narrowing your eyes at the cheeky radio host, who was probably getting a kick out of your discomfort, you pointed up at Alastor. 

The owner – presumably Rosie – blinked, her already ghost-like complexion somehow turning even paler as she laid eyes on Alastor, who stood behind you with a smile full of teeth. 

“Oh, Alastor! Is that really you?” You reeled back in surprise as Rosie took him by the shoulders and spun around a few times with a wide, somehow shark-like beam. 

“Oh, it has been ages since I’ve seen you that I nearly didn’t recognize you! Just where have you been!?” Rosie gushed over him as she placed a hand to her heart, flashing a smile full of teeth to the radio host.  

You looked between them with a bewildered expression. You thought Alastor only allowed you to touch him like that, and so abruptly, too... 

“Ah, well, I’m glad that my presence was missed, my dear Rosie,” you raised an eyebrow. My dear? “After all, your fittings are some of the best in New Orleans!” 

“Aw, ever the flatterer, aren’t you?”

The pair seemed to completely ignore you in the moment, lost in their own reunion until Rosie placed her hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous glint in her pitch-black gaze.  

“And it seems like this pretty little flower’s kept you from my parlor for quite some time! Oh, Al', you just keep bringing so many beautiful young women to my doorstep!” 

Now that last part really made you take pause. There were other women before you? You slightly deflated at that thought, though you didn’t know what you expected from someone with Alastor’s reputation and overall appeal.  

But the burn in your heart and the slight sting in your eyes betrayed your hurt at the fact that you weren’t anything special to the radio host you had become so taken with.  

“But this one might just be the most delectable of all!” Before you could question her strange choice of words, Rosie urgently began pushing you towards the back of the store, past racks of gorgeous dresses and in front of the front counter. 

She slipped behind the hardwood desk covered in shiny knickknacks, assorted jewelry – many in the shape of small hearts for the romantic season – and even little chocolate candies covered in shiny, bright pink and red wrapping. 

Alastor followed closely behind you two with his arms behind his back. 

“How about some candy? It is that time of year, after all! All that romance in the air, the taste of young love on every girl’s tongue! A pretty thing like you must’ve caught the eye of someone special.” She grinned widely down at you, and you happily reached for a piece. “Sure, I'll take one.” 

“And who might that be for, my dear?” You jumped and glanced up at Alastor, whose eyes watched your face carefully. His tone bit at the air with a malice you hadn’t heard since the incident at the diner. Rosie leaned against the counter, clearly drinking up every bit of tension.  

“That’s none of your business, now, is it?” Taking a chocolate heart, you thanked Rosie with a grateful smile, completely ignoring how Alastor’s eye twitched and he clung closer to your side. His smile stretched wider across his face, the tips of his lips twitching slightly as you gave him a brief side-glance. 

Such a strange man... 

“So, are you going to introduce us?” Rosie waved to you with a hand on her hip. 

“Why, how rude of me!” Alastor pulled you even closer to himself with a hand slung around your shoulder. “This here is my lovely little assistant, and she’s been staying with me for the past couple of weeks! I’ll tell you, she’s quite the helper around the studio! One could only dream to find someone as useful!” Alastor’s scent overwhelmed you as he hugged you close, and when you awkwardly tried to pull away from Alastor’s grasp, he gripped you tighter to himself. 

Useful? Was that all you were to him? 

"Assistant? I don't remember-" A prompt squeeze of your shoulder from Alastor kept you quiet, and you glared up at him.

“Oh, my! Sounds like you’re quite popular!” It was then that you noticed the slight Boston accent that laced Rosie’s words.  

“You know what? The ladies that join here for afternoon tea would just adore you! And they’ve just arrived, too! Oh, Alastor, won’t you let the Doll say hi?” Rosie turned to him with a pleading expression, though Alastor knew that the store owner never waited for permission to do just about anything. 

Normally, he’d say yes, but you weren’t fresh meat on the chopping block, nor were you a puppet for Alastor’s entertainment, not anymore at least. 

And those women would eat you alive. 

“I’m afraid not, my dear. She is not much for such fraternization," he emphasized with a hint of irritation. Rosie deflated with a pout but didn’t push upon the matter. Some of Al’s toys were off-limits, she supposed. 

Oh, well. He never was very good at sharing. 

A twinge of irritation pricked at the back of your mind. Why didn’t Alastor ask you if you wanted to meet her friends? You would’ve jumped at the chance to meet someone new, but now, with the finality Alastor's tone carried, it seemed such a thing was out of the question. 

It irked you that he thought he had any say upon your friendships outside of himself, the strange, oddly possessive man that he was. 

But what you despised even more was how easily you complied with his wishes. 

“Oh, well, all right then. Perhaps some other time,” Rosie’s smile quickly returned to her face as she straightened her shoulders, shaking off the disappointment from seconds ago. “So, what business can I help you two with?” She folded her hands upon the front desk’s surface with half-lidded eyes, taking upon an air of professionalism.

“Oh, just a private matter I’ve long awaited to tend to, nothing to concern the Doll about. Shall we speak in the parlor?” You narrowed your eyes at Alastor, before shrugging nonchalantly and promptly left his side to observe the rest of the store, turning to a corner with shiny bobbles and trinkets that had caught your eye.  

Alastor swiveled to you, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise, and Rosie chuckled at his bewilderment.  

“Don’t mind me, just minding my own business,” you turned your back on the pair completely, and Alastor had half a mind to drag you back to the front desk with a tighter grip on your middle than ever before. 

“Shall we, then?” Amusement danced in the store owner’s pitch-black eyes as Alastor stiffly nodded with a twitching smile.

The room in which the pair held their usual meetings in was quite similar to the waiting room in which you and Alastor had arrived in, though this one was much more decorated and clearly tailored to Rosie’s personal style, as it was furnished with antiques and furniture most likely preserved from the Victorian era of England. 

A small sofa chair sat across from a matching striped loveseat, the fabric of both furnishings colored a cerise pink and decorated with small, dainty intricacies carved into the dark wood of the legs. Bookshelves lined nearly every wall save for the entrance and a small window hanging above a writing desk.  

Lilting classical music poured from the well-kept gramophone situated beside a bookshelf, just behind the loveseat. 

Alastor made himself comfortable on the sofa chair across from the loveseat where Rosie was seated, pouring herself a cup of tea and him a glass of whiskey from a bottle beside the tea set. 

“So, what troubling matters have graced me with your visit, Alastor?” She raised the cup to her maroon-tinted lips and took a small sip, taking small note of how his left hand rose to his bowtie to straighten it, and his fingers tapped frantically against the arm of the chair.

“I needed to ask you for some advice,” he fiddled with his collar for a moment more, his smile widening. This was going to be an awkward conversation, and Rosie surely wouldn’t make it any easier for him, but this certainly wasn’t the lowest level he would stoop to in order to get what he wanted. 

Besides, Alastor was well aware that Rosie was something of an expert within the aspect of the heart. If she was the one to go to, he’d make the sacrifice of a slight blow to his pride from the teasing. 

“It is no secret that your areas of expertise are outside of my specialties,” he continued, and almost immediately, Rosie perked up with a wide grin, though the confusion that followed sprouted many questions. Why in the world would someone like him want advice on something like that? 

“Oh, you know I pride myself upon my specialty upon the matters of the heart!” She fluttered her sharp-nailed fingers at him, intrigue piqued and her inner curiosity buzzing. Could it be...? 

“I must say, I’m surprised you’ve taken an interest in such matters. Any particular reason for this sudden change of heart?” Rosie leaned against the chair, waiting for him to answer with a soft smirk. Alastor’s eyebrow twitched. She was going to make him say it. 

“Well, there happens to be an investment of mine that has caught more than my eye, recently.” His attempts to be vague fell completely flat when Rosie caught his eyes glancing towards the door behind him. 

“And does that ‘investment’ just so happen to be standing outside the door?”

“Ah, ever unrelenting with your teasing, I see,” his voice bit with sarcasm, and he put to use the glass of whiskey that Rosie had provided him with, taking a drink and composing himself.

“Oh, come on, Al’. I’ve seen that look before." Rosie sighed dramatically, looking him up and down with knowing eyes. "You’re in love with her. And you have no idea how to go about it.” 

A tender gaze focused upon her oldest friend as his hands tightened around the glass of whiskey. Alastor clearly wasn’t used to being prodded like this. And though normally Rosie would respect his boundaries, love called for a more... personal approach. 

“I’ll help you, but I want to be sure,” her soft, motherly demeanor all but evaporated as she narrowed her eyes at him, sharp, dark pupils analyzing every movement like a shark circling blood. 

But he was never one to squirm under pressure. 

“You’re sure that you love her?”  

“With everything that I am.”  

“You’d cross every line for her?” 

“There is no line I haven’t already crossed. I’d plunge the depths of Hell to be by her side.” 

“No matter the cost, you’ll never watch her fall for another?” 

“I’d sooner sell my own soul and rip out the heart of those who dare to try.”  

The flame in his eyes challenged her overprotective glare, and Rosie relaxed with a deep inhale, relenting her gaze and letting her smile return to her pale features.  

“Alright, I’ll help you. But don’t you break that poor girl’s heart, or you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” Alastor relaxed back into the sofa chair. Perhaps this ‘love’ business wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. 

Rosie promptly set her teacup down upon the coffee table and leaned forward to spill every secret in her book as if it were one of their regular gossiping sessions, laughing and trading pleasantries over tea.

And she'd make sure that you would be swooning at Alastor's feet when she was done with him.

“Now, here’s the gist of what to do...” 

She was something of a miracle worker, after all.

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: WELCOME TO THE END! YES, YOU DID IT!!

I'm so sorry to dump this whole fic onto ya'll- When I tell you that I audibly gasped when I saw the word count in my drafts-

Like this thing was 4,800 WORDS. I AM NOT ABOUT TO DO THAT TO YA'LL.

Anyways, it's always fun to write for this fic, but this one was so fun to do!! Istg Rosie would be the best wingman ever. She would solve The Summer I Turned Pretty in two episodes.

Thank you so much for reading! I'll see you next time with our favorite demented, yandere TV Man!!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer, @prosciuttosblog @frog-fans-unite

➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

OMG HE'S SO CUTE LOOK AT HIM

UGGHH I would KILL to have this hanging up in my house ON GOD-

I'm probably gonna go over there and steal some portraits... 😙🤫

Look At HIM!!!! What a sweet boy 🥺🖤

Ahahahahaha I love your Vox content and I've just been brainrotting over the TV man for a while so I wanted to request if you could write some Vox x fem!reader fluff? Something like how they spend Valentines together(if the residents of hell even celebrate that-) since the holiday is coming up :D

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Ok, it'll be out soon today! And since I love this idea so much, I'll think about making a mini–Valentine's Day series with Vox, Alastor, and Lucifer (who I've never written for before but I'm open to trying it)

Thank you for requesting!!