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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 3

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

𝐀/𝐍: Yup, we're getting into it now. Remember that this man is literally a cannibalistic serial killer who convenes with dark spirits and shit.

But I think that just makes him more attractive tbh.

Btw this man is like 6'1 in this story in his human form, so do with that information as you wish. ;)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟕𝟔𝟖 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖: Descriptive gore, sacrificial rituals, just Alastor-coded shenanigans and levels of down horrendous I'm embarrassed to share... 😭👍 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: - ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛꜱ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ - ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ

. . .

There was always a moment when Alastor had to take a small smoke before finishing off his prey, allowing the adrenaline of the hunt to wear off as he reveled in his latest kill.  

A gentle evening wind brushed against his ears, ruffling his cocoa-brown hair as he smiled up at the full moon with teeth as white as its luminous surface. Translucent curtains of gloom drifted past the celestial orb of night, just as the scent of a marshy swampland drifted up and enveloped Alastor in its nostalgic, wistful aroma of home.  

Though he relished the private, intimate moments he spent with you, times like these, where his mind could simply slip away from the drag of life and reflect upon the day, were as precious and rare as gold.  

Alastor simpered to himself as he fixated upon you being the star-struck little darling you were, mad with elation to finally be able to watch him host his radio show in the studio you both worked at. And he imagined you’d needed such a treat, after your delightful breakfast at that restaurant you’d wanted to try out for so long.  

It was too bad. Alastor quite liked that cozy little diner. Oh, well.  

Perhaps you could work there yourself, now that a fresh, new spot for a job had opened up at the restaurant, perfect for a lovely little doll like you. You wouldn’t have to deal with your rather overbearing supervisor anymore, who gave Alastor much more leeway than you.  

Ha! Who was he kidding? Like he’d ever let you take so much as six steps away from him, from the safety he could provide.  

He couldn't have you running around willy-nilly, gaining the attention of unworthy scumbags, after all! 

Then again, Alastor didn’t mind the image of you rushing around, serving him ever so politely in one of those form-flattering, tight waitress uniforms that had swept New Orleans recently.  

But that was an experience for him, and him alone. Besides, the reverie of having you as a pretty little assistant would do just fine, for now. Perhaps he could bring that idea to fruition, someday.  

Oh, one can only dream!  

With a last puff of smoke that condensed in the chilly night air, Alastor disposed of the cigarette and ground it into the dirt path with his heel. Maybe he could use an assistant around the studio; being the most charming, captivating voice in all of Louisiana wasn’t easy, after all! 

Plus, it meant more alone time with you, and your dazzling, melodic voice, and that divine smile that he could only wish to be blessed with. He drank it all up, your enthusiasm to be in his presence, your witty yet flustered company...

God, he could just eat you up–  

Muffled groans and wails broke him from his peaceful midnight musing, and he turned his attention towards the small shack he used. Normally, he’d relish in such helplessness from his latest kill, though his patience was wearing thin, tonight.  

But Alastor needed this one to be alive. The Loa didn’t favor cold, dead prey.  

Then again, it never complained of the condition its scraps were in. Only that Alastor could provide any. 

“Why, hello there!” The radio host’s air of exuberant showmanship rolled off him in waves as he stood above the crumpled form of the waiter who had insulted Alastor’s very being with his rotten presence.  

A throbbing pain at the front of his head where he had been knocked out with a bat ached painfully, and he cradled his wound with an anguished groan.  

“Ouch! That’s got to hurt, ha-ha!” Polished western-style shoes thumped against the wooden floor of the shack as Alastor made his way over to his victim, before bashing his head against the floor, reveling in his pained groan before he slumped in Alastor’s grip.  

“Hm, a bit meatier than I had expected... He’ll have quite a feast, tonight!” A dark chuckle, laced with venom and coated with mirth filled the small room, and Alastor hoisted the body over his head and dragged the unconscious prey out into the forest.  

Darkness enveloped the waiter’s mind, like a weighted blanket upon his consciousness as the pain worsened, before fading as his body gave out.  

. . .   

The sound of shoveling and short, exhausted huffing awakened him as he slowly came to, and the wintry night air brought him from slumber like the bony, thinned hands of Death itself.  

Shadows danced around his vision as his eyes fluttered open, and the light of Alastor’s lantern roused him fully awake. The quiet croaking of frogs, and the midnight lullaby of chirping crickets filled the otherwise eerie silence. A large, wilting tree hung over him, where moss and fungus sprouted from each branch as its hanging leaves reached down to him and the scent of dampened swampland baffled his senses. 

W-Where... Where the hell am I...?

Alastor watched with an amused smile as the pitiful lad tried to raise a hand to hoist himself up from the dirt, only to struggle for a few moments against his cursed restraints that bound him to the forest floor.  

Slim-fit gloves tightened against the handle of his shovel as Alastor leaned against it with a condescending grin, moonlight bouncing off his glasses as he looked down at the pitiful prey.  

“Oh, please don’t struggle too much. I did go to all that trouble of tying you up, after all,” Alastor cooed from his standing position above his victim, like he could possibly escape from the rune-encrusted stakes he had been bound to. 

“Now, be polite...  

And say hello to my old friend, for me.”  

A gust of wind howled around the pair, bringing Alastor’s attention towards the crooked trees standing tall against the swamp. The bushes rustled softly beneath its branches, when suddenly, a buck jumped out from behind the bramble, kicking at the dirt and eyeing Alastor’s little summoning circle with curiosity.  

It was a shame he hadn’t brought his hunting gun; those magnificent antlers would’ve been a dazzling addition to his collection. 

Also, the idea of impressing you with such a display had Alastor catching himself drifting off into his fantasies yet again. He really needed to stop doing that. You were turning the demented radio host into a moony-eyed sap, and in the middle of a sacrifice, no less!  

The deer slowly trotted towards Alastor with its head tilted in confusion as it eyed him, regarding the man with caution.  

Slowly, the radio host lowered himself into a respectful bow, and the buck reciprocated. It strayed a little closer, and a step too far proved to be its undoing.  

Crack.  

The busboy jolted with each snap of bone within the animal's body, the grotesque sounds echoing across the forest. The deer grew suddenly limp and collapsed upon the forest floor as the waiter’s eyes bulged out of his head. 

“W-What...? What the fuck is that!?” Alastor ignored his victim’s struggle behind him as he kicked at the chilled, marshy dirt with his bare, scabbed feet, hoping to create some distance between himself and the massive, horned beast that was forming rapidly.  

A futile effort, really... 

An animalistic screech of anguish would be the last sound that the deer ever made, as it finally fell completely under the control of whatever unholy beat had been foolishly summoned into existence. Shadows flooded the inside of the poor animal, hollowing it out at a rapid rate, and the unseen horror took its puppet upon a sleeve to speak to the mortal who summoned it. 

Whether it was utterly foolish or terribly sadistic was a true mystery. A gamble that made these little summonses the least bit entertaining, particularly if it was the latter. 

The sound of groaning wood echoed across the forest as two large, crooked antlers bent towards the sky. The creature’s hanging ribcage protruded from the gaping hole in its stomach, revealing bloody, mossy innards riddled with mold and buzzing flies that gluttonously fed upon the mangled buck's entrails. 

An ominous emerald glow shimmered within the buck’s maw, and two stark-black eyes fell into its open mouth, before sliding down its tongue

The deer's organs were promptly squeezed out of the corpse's slit belly and dropped onto the ground as the carcass thinned dramatically. A puddle of thick, glistening liquid that was much too dark to be considered regular animal blood had gathered beneath it.

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Squelch. 

Tarred, ashen-gray skin glimmered underneath the moonlight, as a guttural roar shook the forest, leaving the branches trembling with terror. Alastor stood before the beast with his hands crossed behind his back with an unbothered, almost bored expression.  

As the Loa stood before him in its complete, beastly form, Alastor brushed off an imaginary speck of dirt from his coat sleeve before opening his arms up to his old friend with a wide grin that nearly split his face in half. It had been a while since he’d borne witness to a proper summoning.  

“Quite a good show, my friend! Captivating as always,” Alastor called out cheerfully, clapping once or twice in emphasis.  

“Ɱվ ƒօɾʍ էąҟҽʂ էհҽ ìժҽղէìէվ օƒ ҽąçհ ʂօմӀ էհąէ çąӀӀʂ էօ ʍҽ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ,” the Loa's voice answered his old friend in a deep, gravely rasp from the mutilated buck's unhinged jaw. It stood proudly on its hind legs as it hunched over Alastor with a low rumble, and the stench of rotting flesh overpowered the natural, swampy scent of the forest, to the radio host’s distaste. 

“Then I do hope my soul has been quite the treat to replicate!” he clasped his hands together behind his back, folding his arms tightly behind him. 

“చհվ հąʂէ էհօմ çąӀӀҽժ ʍҽ հҽɾҽ, մքօղ էհìʂ ղìցհէ?” Its impatience wore thin as it looked upon the setting of the candlelit circle, and the pleasant aroma of fresh blood brought the Loa’s attention to the young man tied up behind Alastor.  

“Why, of course! How impolite of me to keep you waiting,” the excited glint in the radio host’s eye evolved into a look of complete madness as he gestured to the poor sap behind him, who gaped up at the Loa’s ghastly form in horror.  

“Presenting the main course for tonight, this pitiful little insect that I had the unfortunate displeasure of stumbling upon! Though it seems this chap appears to be faring far worse than I!” A cynical chuckle dripped from his thin-lipped grin as he bowed before the Loa like a true showman.  

Alastor hadn’t even noticed he had been rambling like a supervillain, monologuing about his latest victim as if it were a typical evening hosting his radio show. 

“įէ ʂҽҽʍʂ էհօմ հąէհ.. φҽɾʂօղąӀ հìʂէօɾվ աìէհ էհìʂ օղҽ,” the Loa rumbled thoughtfully, now circling the panicking prey as he thrashed in his roped constraints. 

“Ah, just a little disagreement, is all. Apparently, manners are no longer an important matter of discussion within one’s own household,” Alastor ‘tsked’, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “A shame, truly.”   

“įէ ʂʍҽӀӀʂ ƒɾҽʂհ,” the horned creature inhaled deeply, stinking putridly of decay as he bent over the trembling busboy, its skeletal back cracking and snapping as he further hunched over. Its victim blubbered pathetically, shaking his head as hopeless tears spilt from his eyes while he choked out helpless pleads. 

“Ꝉìҟҽ… Ͳҽɾɾօɾ…”   

In a flurry of shadows, the Loa pounced upon its feast, rumbling with fervor and gluttony as its fangs tore through flesh, ripping its prey apart as it aimed for the meatiest bits of its meal.  

The agonized moans of the damned that protruded from the Loa's maw conducted the symphony of terror, and the screams of the disrespectful runt carried the harmony as Alastor stood off to the side, relishing the gory display.  

When the Loa had finished, a long, blackened tongue licked its chops as it rumbled in satisfaction. It turned towards Alastor, who bowed before it, as was a respectful custom whenever the God finished its meal. 

"Ͳհìʂ աąʂ զմìէҽ ʂąէìʂƒąçէօɾվ. చհąէ çąӀӀʂ մքօղ էհվ ʂքօղէąղҽօմʂ օƒƒҽɾìղց, էօղìցհէ, ȺӀąʂէօɾ…?" 

"Oh, I was just taking out some trash. Honestly, you're doing me quite a favor, old friend! Think of it as a celebration for our friendship," Alastor grinned impudently, before bidding the Loa a silent farewell as he turned on his heel. 

"Now, I'm afraid that our time together must be cut short. I have a little darling to check up upon, and she is quite the feisty one, I'll have you know!" Oh, how perfectly this night had ended. Ridding himself, and you the trouble of ever dealing with such a pest ever again, and cuddling up to you while discussing your day over dinner, and ending it with a-

"చհօ ìʂ ʂհҽ?" 

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his smile beginning to strain and actually make his cheeks ache as he half-turned back to the Loa. Fuck.  

It seems that his utter enthusiasm for running his mouth about you has overridden his reasoning. 

"Whatever do you mean, my friend? Don't tell me you've taken a liking to my darling?" He pointed a teasing finger at it with a wide, knowing smirk that bordered upon a warning. 

The god eyed Alastor with pure contempt, before huffing impatiently and nodding towards Alastor's house in the distance. 

"Ƕҽɾ. Ͳհҽ βɾìցհէ ටղҽ. చհҽղ հąʂէ էհօմ ƒąӀӀҽղ ƒօɾ ʂմçհ ƒɾìѵօӀìէìҽʂ?" 

Alastor stubbornly clasped his hands together behind his back and stood tall as the ancient god bent down towards his level, empty sockets glowing an emerald green and practically blinding him as it asked again. 

"į աìʂհ էօ ҟղօա օƒ էհìʂ… ժìʂէɾąçէìօղ էհąէ հąʂէ էհҽҽ ìղ ą ҍìղժ ʂմçհ ąʂ էհìʂ," for the first time in thousands of years, the god's interest had been caught. Quite a peculiarity, considering that the Loa did not care for petty mortal matters that Alastor would rarely partake in himself, but the mention of a girl brought slight surprise to it. 

And judging by the glimpses the ancient being took within Alastor's mind, he could understand why the radio host had taken such a liking to you. 

Like the sway of wind, by the bloom of daffodils, you were akin to a wicked, unruly summer wind sweeping up sea salt and touching the hearts of those you met, everywhere you went. 

A rare commodity, in a corrupt world such as this. 

"Oh, well I suppose I must've slipped the word about her. Well!" Alastor placed his fingertips together as the memory of first meeting you surfaced in his mind.  

"I'd be happy to tell you how we met! It all began when I came across the darling little Doll in a charming diner. I'll tell you; the place couldn't have shined as much as it had without her presence, ha-ha!" 

The eldritch horror noted the complete adoration that swept the normally deranged man off his feet. Alastor’s animated announcer's voice and occasional jazz hands did all the talking for him as he spoke of you. 

The spirit never thought it'd see the day... 

"She was certainly efficient at her job, as well! Carried the entire restaurant on her back, in my humble opinion," of course, Alastor was completely biased in his reasoning. He'd take any excuse to sing your praises all night. 

"Why, she even gave me a shock when she rolled into the building with a pair of skates, one Thursday afternoon! Quite the compliment to that stunning dress pattern, I must say..." 

How curious, that the boy the Loa had met all those years ago, the one who seemed to have no such interest in pursuing relationships, who outwardly expressed disgust at the mere thought of being touched found someone like you to keep him company. 

"So, I decided to give the Doe a chance at my radio station, and we immediately hit it off!" The radio host's smile nearly cracked his face in half as he fondly recalled his first meeting with you, and the spirit tilted its head to the side. 

How strange, indeed... 

Well, now it just had to meet the girl who had captivated Alastor so and sprung upon this new sacrifice earlier than what was expected of him. 

Then, the Loa nodded towards the direction of Alastor's house in the twilight, softly hitting its hoof against the ground with an insistent thud. 

"į աìʂհ էօ ʍҽҽէ հҽɾ. į աąղէ էօ ҟղօա ահąէ ҟìղժ օƒ ʂօմӀ հąʂ çąքէìѵąէҽժ էհҽҽ ʂօ." 

Alastor slowly turned towards the beast, whose antlers seemed to grow even larger in return, sensing the human's challenge. 

"And what makes you believe that you have a right to meddle in my life, if it does not offend you to ask? Her soul is not yours, and her heart shall soon lie with me."  

The Loa huffed, before bowing its head towards the maddened, lovesick mortal. How foolish, the way such silly human matters have clouded the ever-articulate mind of one of his oldest acquaintances.  

Honestly, what did Alastor think it was going to do? Snatch you away from him? 

Like it'd ever get the chance. 

"βմէ ìէ ժօҽʂղ'է. ហօէ աìէհìղ çմɾɾҽղէ çìɾçմʍʂէąղçҽʂ. į çօմӀժ ƒì× էհąէ, հօաҽѵҽɾ," The Loa rumbled, knowing it was pricking at a soft spot as the young man shot him an unamused glare with a raised eyebrow.  

"į ʂհąӀӀ ҍҽ ժìʂçɾҽҽէ, օƒ çօմɾʂҽ. Ⱥ ʍҽɾҽ ìղէҽɾƒҽɾҽղçҽ ƒɾօʍ ąƒąɾ." Alastor scoffed and fully turned to the Loa with a sneer darkening his too-wide smile, his teeth seeming sharpened in the glint of the moonlight. 

To the Loa, Alastor appeared merely to be a puppy baring its pint-sized fangs. 

"Ha-ha! You seem to misunderstand me, my friend," he stepped boldly towards the beast, his hands folded behind his back with half-lidded eyes that dared it to cross the very clear line he had drawn.  

"I believe you have crossed a bit of a line, there, implying that I do not own her heart," the radio host sneered; a threatening grimace hidden behind a thin mask portraying a cheeky, unbothered smile. But the underlying threat was clear. You were not to be touched. 

Honestly, Alastor reminded the Loa of another, more ethereal being it had met long ago. Madly in love and willing to do anything, preform any atrocity, to protect his fleeting fancy. Looking back, he was rather short for someone of his status, and impossibly pale, having a sort of 'heavenly' hue to it. 

How ironic. 

The Loa looked upon the human with slight amusement dancing within its soulless, ominously glowing sockets. The mortal held such determination, such drive to keep you solely within his hold, a kind of devotion it hadn’t seen in centuries. 

Such a pitiful display of favor for his new toy had the Loa truly interested, now. It was sure that Alastor would do anything to keep you, anything to win your affections. 

Of course, good things came to those who waited. And so, with a soft nod, the Loa dropped the subject. 

“Ⱥʂ էհօմ աìʂհҽʂ. Ͳհօմցհ, ʍìղҽ օƒƒҽɾ ʂհąӀӀ ʂէìӀӀ ʂէąղժ." 

“Duly noted.” And with that, Alastor’s clipped tone snapped through the air, cutting off the conversation entirely. The distant hum of insects whispered against his ears as he waited for the Loa’s dismissal. 

"ƑąɾҽաҽӀӀ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ. į հąѵҽ ҍմʂìղҽʂʂ ҽӀʂҽահҽɾҽ.” Finally, the Loa turned away from the mortal, its shadows dropping the corpse of the deer and vanishing from the scene. Alastor paid no mind to it, however, as there typically wouldn’t be any human nor animal remains, come sunrise. 

The god fed gluttonously, after all. 

Alastor swiftly turned on his heel and started back upon the path. “Adieu, my good friend! I do hope we’ll see each other again,” as he strode further away from the ghastly terror, all mirth had evaporated from his voice, leaving a biting cold edging at his words and rivaling the winter chill as he neared the house. 

But every step closer to you thawed his heart as he strolled through the bramble, choosing to shove away the thoughts that mulled over the Loa's offer. That would be something for 'Tomorrow Alastor' to deal with.

It wasn't long before he had finally made it back to the house, confidently striding across the forest as if nothing had ever happened, and Alastor slipped through the front door, brief as the wind and quiet as a shadow.

He was quite disappointed to see you had left for a bed, and his heart panged with guilt at the thought of you solemnly retreating to your quarters when you realized Alastor was probably working late tonight.

It was far from the truth, but it'd suffice as a good cover.

I'll make it up to her tomorrow.

Carefully, Alastor crept up the stairs, avoiding each loose board and step that would creak under the pressure of his weight. 

Then, after seeming to have climbed a mountain simply to get upstairs, he slowly opened the door to your room, his hands clenching the doorknob to the point where it'd snap in half from his vice grip.

Alastor took steady, silent steps over to your bedframe, standing over your soundly sleeping form with a lovesick simper.

Since when had he grown so infatuated with little ol' you? Was it when you ran up to him with stars in your eyes and that beautiful, kissable smile plastered on your face after you listened to his podcast from start to finish? When you raved about how amazing it was, how captivating he sounded?  

Moonlight was cast over your form, painting a pale, sleek canvas of stardust over your skin as Alastor drank in the sight with trembling fervor. 

Leaning over, he took a hand and carefully twirled a lock of your hair around a slender finger as he stared down at you adoringly.

"Darling... what are you doing to me~?"

As Alastor bent down to nuzzle your loose hair, your scent hit him almost instantly, and he groaned softly as the room became so hot, so unbearably tight as he became ever aware of the throbbing bulge tightened against the confines of his trousers. 

With a heavy, forlorn heart, and an aching erection he'd soon have to tend to, he pulled away from your slumbering form, and brushed a stray lock out of your face.

A warmth crept up to his cheeks as you leaned towards his familiar touch, smiling softly at the mere touch of contact as you mumbled incoherently in your sleep.

"Mmmph... Alastor..."

With a tender, close-lipped simper, Alastor placed a chaste, tender peck to your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my Doe~."

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: So, I lowkey lied, saying it was gonna be a shorter chapter...

AND THIS ONE ENDED UP BEING EVEN LONGER LMAO 💀💀

I'm sorry, making these longer ones are so much fun, and I can't for the life of me shorten any paragraph or story I'm working on. Even the end notes are an essay long lmao.

Anyway, thanks for reading, as always (～￣▽￣)～

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠᴇxᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐀/𝐍: Whew! Ok, I'm taking a small break right now- I have one more request to do, and ofc as soon as I can I'll finish it, but I don't want to burn myself out or anything.

I'm just taking a quick writing rehab right now. Nonetheless, the banter was so fun to do, and I hope you all like it!

If I do write another chapter for the week, it'll probably be for What A Dish, What A Doll!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,903 ➺ Song Recommendation: 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼

. . .

The chill of February’s frosted breath graced the glass panes of the largest building in the Vee’s district, an imposing force that not-so-subtly hinted at how far their influence and power expanded across the Sinner’s Circle of Hell, as it stood right in the heart of the Pride Ring for all to flock to. No matter how depraved, sadistic, or perverted you were, the territory of the Vees surely had something in store for your insatiable appetite to feast upon. 

And since the first twenty-four hours of the infamously romantic month, chaos had erupted within the offices of the Vees. Other than Halloween, it was the greatest vice of Vox’s hellish existence, filling his calendar to the brim with meetings, product improvement, managing holiday events and sales, and not to mention Velvet’s stupid “Love Potion” gimmick- 

For Christ’s sake, the goddamn holiday started with a ‘V’! Their brand of perfection practically relied on that lovey-dovey nonsense. 

For the past week, the only thing filling up Vox’s schedule and keeping him from you was showcasing shitty rom coms with horribly conceived plots, Velvet rushing around like a mini-hurricane and destroying everything in her wake for her latest fashion show, and Valentino? 

Oh, don’t even get Vox fucking started. 

And now, after all of that overwhelming bullshit that kept him from warming your bed for the past few days, Vox desperately wanted – no, needed to escape and spend quality time with his darling. With you.  

He had the usual Valentine’s Day blueprint in mind: eat ice cream and binge-watch your favorite TV-shows, while you flustered the hell out of him with your affections and make hot chocolate, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms by the fire.

Mundane, cheesy shit like that was the highlight of his days after another exhausting workday keeping it all roped together and navigating Velvet and Valentino's nonsense. 

Their facade was of modern sophistication, perfection at its very finest that was produced for only those who could afford it, and it was all piled into Vox’s lap to regulate the chaotic, unpredictable behavior of his fellow Overlords, and keep their volatile nature in check. 

But the continuous hardship that came with his stressful job would fade with the wintry wind as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into your shared penthouse, and like a patch of sunlight to snow, you’d melt away all his worries with a smile and a rub of his head as you took care of him for the night. 

Almost there... 

The television demon groaned as he crossed the threshold over to your apartments, seeing no need to keep up his perfectly aligned posture. 

And, like a mercy served by Gods, Vox was met with the heavenly sight of you standing in your fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that you’d received on your birthday, courtesy of Val. Vox would’ve personally burned it to high hell, but you adored the design, and he couldn’t resist you when you pleaded with him. 

“Vox...” crossing your arms at the doorway, his light, his spark, his reason to maintain everything about his own reputation stood with a stern furrow in your brow as you strode over to him. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been overworking yourself again, love,” you grumbled as you took off his bowtie and removed his coat, and you smoothed out the front of his striped vest as Vox stumbled for an answer. 

“I-” *sigh* “I’m not pushing myself that much. You know how the job is, especially around this time,” seeing your face fall and your lips tighten into a straight line, Vox took your hand, squeezing it within his gloved palms as his sharp teeth pulled into a small half-smile. 

“But coming home to you makes it all worth it,” a tender hand dancing with waves of tingling sparks cupped your cheek, and with a heavy sigh, you looked to him with concern and affection swirling within your tender gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is those two bumbling excuses of Overlords should at least give you a couple of days off,” you scowled softly, but your frown melted into a flustered pout as Vox kissed it away, and a soft buzz of electricity lingered against your lips. 

“Now, now, enough of that, my dear. We still have the whole night to ourselves, don’t we?” You giggled, a long-awaited melody to his ears as Vox spun you around to press your back against his chest. How beautifully the sound replaced Velvet's usual grating, shrill voice that penetrated his ears. How agreeable you were, that you didn't fight him like Valentino, that you truly cared about him and his well-being.

Sometimes, you'd even force his workaholic ass to return to your apartment and get him ready for bed, practically hauling your grumbling, overworked hubby into bed, and forcing him to sleep in the next morning.

And it was the sappy, lovesick moments like these always reminded Vox that he'd never find anyone else like you.

All the more reason to keep you tightly within his grasp...

“Yeah, I guess, so. You dork,” you flicked the very center of your husband’s face, and he blinked a few times in surprise before chuckling and shaking his head. 

“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you for loving me~?” Vox swayed against you gently, his inner fans suddenly warming himself up more than usual as he poorly attempted to conceal his light blush at having you so close.

Your laughter chimed through the air like the first sunbeams breaking through stormy gray clouds upon the aftermath of a thunderstorm. 

“Well, I suppose that makes me your lover,” you simpered right back at him, turning your head slightly so you could stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

It felt almost like a dream when you were in Vox’s arms like this. Simply existing with each other, standing above the Pride Ring as if you ruled the entire Sinner’s Circle. Untouchable, ambitious, and madly in love. 

As if on cue, the sound of a gentle, reflective saxophone poured from the speakers installed within the penthouse as the lights dimmed, and you felt yourself drifting away as you swayed with your husband.  

The soft buzz of electricity bounced against your figure as Vox stared down at you, his dead, automated heart pounding erratically as his hands slid from yours down to your waist, digging into the fabric of your robe with sharpened claws. 

“Vox...?” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

With a deep breath, you lilted your voice as you spoke to him, in hopes that seeming more placating and docile could shake Vox’s stance upon his insistence to work himself to the bone. No more would you allow yourself to stand hopelessly to the side while you watched your husband work himself into such a distressed, sleep-deprived state. 

“I’m putting my foot down. You’re not going back to that horrible place for the next week, at least.” Vox stiffened at your tone of finality. 

“Excuse me?” He chuckled as if you were joking with him, but your resolute glare told him otherwise. “Check your phone.” 

With a hesitant glance towards his pocket, Vox slowly pulled out his phone, only to find that, in fact, every work-related app had been temporarily blocked from the device. 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at you and tapped your nose with a haughty smirk. “Nice try, but it’s going to take more than that for me to fall for your wiles, my dear,”  

When you only grinned up at him with no hint of malice nor any trace of exasperation tugging at your usual, beautiful smile, his triumphant grin fell. “Why are you looking at me like that? What...” 

 A slow realization turned in Vox's mind as he recollected the last few days, when you were poking and prodding at him and his programming for “no apparent reason,” and he wrote it off as curiosity born from your boredom while being locked up at the penthouse apartment. 

But by fuck, he was really regretting indulging you right now, for once. 

With a surge of panic, Vox immediately blue-screened, as he mentally checked for any of his work-related tabs and files, only to find them completely, and suspiciously empty. 

No notes. No texts. No documents. 

Nothing. 

You... You fucking hacked into his mainframe!? 

His interface returned to normal to find you slumped against him, only perking up when you saw your husband had returned from his frenzied search of the crime that had been committed; the heinous act of keeping Vox from working.

And here the culprit was standing, swooning and relaxing in his hold, nuzzling against him as if she wasn’t to blame for his entire workspace vanishing off the face of the Earth for the next seven days.

“Well...?” 

“...How long have you been planning this?” Vox was absolutely aghast. He knew you could be impulsive, perhaps even irrational, compared to your cool, collected husband, but this was... 

You grinned triumphantly as you tapped his nose right back. 

“I just thought you could use a few days off, spending some time in your wife's company for Valentine's Day~..."

“But when did you- No, how the hell-?” 

“It seems that you’ve fallen victim to my wiles yet again,” 

“Oho, you sneaky little-!” Vox practically tackled you into a hug as he discharged a small bout of electricity, tickling you with an electrifying warmth, just by holding you against him. 

“C’mon, I’ve got another surprise for you,” with a soft giggle and a gentle tug of his antenna, you pulled Vox from the floor as his free hand shot up to his hat with a small, bashful frown. 

“I told you to stop that!” He outwardly groaned, but you could hear the flustered electrical buzz that Vox emitted whenever you did something to him that he really liked.  

“You know I don’t like it,” he muttered, but as always, you saw right through him. 

“And we both know that’s one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told me,” you grinned back at him cheekily as you pulled him into the living area, where you had spent most of your afternoon setting up when Vox was occupied with his work. 

In the living room, you had set up a small, cozy gaming area. It then hit Vox just how long you had been setting this up, waiting for him to drop his guard and into your scheming hands.

That little criminal...

Two controllers, one for you, and one for Vox, sat upon a pile of fluffy blankets. A few pillows draped in silk cloth surrounded the area on the couch, and before it upon the coffee table, there sat a freshly made bowl of popcorn, and various other chocolate candies and snacks.

“Hm... Seems like someone’s been itching for a rematch.” A challenge glinted in his sensors, and you leaned into him with an equally blazing ire.

"You wanna bet...?"

. . .

“GODDAMN FUCKING BLUE SHELL! I’LL DESTROY YOU, YOU SPIKED SON OF A BITCH!”  

“HA-HA! GUESS WHO’S IN THE LEAD, NOW!?”  

Your fingers pressed the controller furiously as the TV blared in front of you, and as you crossed the finish line, you let out a whoop of victory, nearly falling out of Vox’s lap in your bout of triumph. 

“Yes!” “No!! Fuck!”  

You and Vox shouted simultaneously, making you burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as he groaned and slumped defeatedly behind you. 

“Are you serious!? That’s the fifth time in a row!” Vox nearly crushed his controller in his vice grip as he threw a slew of curses at the TV.  

The two of you had been playing Mario Kart for the past hour, blissfully unaware of how your gaming match had whisked the both of you into a heated competition of bumper cars and tallying points for each round someone won, and the winner would be picking the movie you watched.

You stuck your tongue out at him with a victorious beam. “It seems the Nintendo wants us to watch the Kissing Booth tonight,” you giggled madly when Vox’s face scrunched up in disgust.  

“Yeah, babe, there is no way I’m watching that.” 

“Aw, come on, I won fair and square!" you leaned into your husband, who sighed with exasperation but softened at the sight of your pout. 

“Please...? I promise we’ll watch whatever you want tomorrow!” 

“It’s my first day off the job, and you want to watch the goddamn Kissing Booth!?” 

"Pretty please, Sparks?" Vox’s aura buzzed softly at the nickname, and he narrowed his eyes down at you as you begged him with your puppy eyes.

“Playing dirty, huh? Fine. Let’s watch your dumbass movie,” Vox pouted with crossed arms as he slumped into the couch in defeat and his antenna buzzed softly in annoyance. It sparked abruptly when you clapped excitedly and pulled him by his collar to lay a tender kiss on his cheek.  

“Thank you! I promise, you’ll love it,” you grinned mischievously and grabbed the remote. 

Vox, in fact, did not love it. In fact, it was so bad that you both started watching it ironically and threw jabs at it occasionally.   

“So, who do you think she should pick? Her psycho-controlling best friend, or the pretty boy with anger issues~,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as you shoveled a handful of popcorn into your mouth, your eyes glued to the screen. 

Vox sighed and rubbed his forehead, equally as invested as you were despite your shared frustration with the film.  

“Honestly? She should dump both of them and run for the goddamn hills.”  

You snorted. “Yeah? Well, I would’ve chosen her boyfriend. He gets better over the next couple of movies.” Vox raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?”  

Popping a few M&Ms into your mouth, you nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m serious! He gets some serious character development,” you mutter sarcastically, before licking your lips with a shit-eating grin. “He seems really cold and angry on the outside, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” 

Nudging his shoulder, you glance not-so-subtly up at him, and Vox took the hint, tickling your sides softly with a smirk. 

“And I’m a dork?” 

“Yeah, and you’re a contagious one, too!” Your hands grabbed at his arms as he crushed you into a hug, pulling you even closer as he rested his head upon yours. 

“Well, then I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it my dear~?”  

“No! Stop! Please, I can't breathe!” You attempted to flail around dramatically, but within Vox's vice grip, that was next to impossible. 

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m afraid you’re trapped within my wiles, darling!” 

“Curse you! How dare you use my own spells against me!” You giggled as he continued his bombardment of tickles and small, feathered kissing against your nape and the small back of your neck. 

Soon, your laughter died down and you both fell silent as you finished the rest of the movie.

While you slowly began to drift off into sleep in Vox's arms, spent from the day of preparing your apartment for your husband's arrival, he looked down at you with a tender half-smile.

I can't believe someone like you would even look at someone like me...

"Hey, babe-?" He whispered out into the dark, before huffing out a chuckle when he realized you were still asleep.

With a soft smile, and a tender patter of his heart, Vox scooped you up and whisked you away to your bedroom, where he silently dresses you up in a pair of pajamas, and tucked you into bed.

Ever so gently, Vox laid a few of the blankets over your form, dragging them and the silk pillows back from the couch to make his little sleeping beauty ever the more comfortable.

He looked upon you as you dozed the minutes away, blissfully oblivious to the war that raged inside of him. 

While Vox was impressed that you had managed to somehow hack into his mainframe and alter his actual mental programming, it really would take more than basic understanding – plus, you pulled it off unguarded. Now, of course, this spawned a new problem for him, but he’d deal with it in due time. Besides, it’d give him a proper excuse to slack off a little bit, with you. 

God, what was he thinking? The old Vox would’ve seen such a desire to goof around with some girl while the other two Vees went around wreaking havoc and partaking in whatever idiocy without Vox to keep them in check. 

But you weren’t just ‘some girl’ to him. 

And frankly, those two clowns could go fuck themselves. 

A part of Vox wanted to remain in your bed, for your sake, but there was work to be done, and Velvet no doubt was positively livid at the fact that he wasn’t answering any of her calls. 

So, with a newfound confidence in his advances, your husband bent over you, softly pinching your chin within his finely sharpened claws, and laying a few tender kisses trailing from your lips down to your nape. 

I wish I could do this to you when you’re awake... But that smile, fuck, I can’t even form sentences without fumbling when you look at me like all you want is to give me the world. 

You groaned and turned over within the sheets, scooching towards him with a soft furrow in your brow.

Vox kissed it away, before reluctantly pulling away from your side, standing at the door with a small, yearning smile.

“Til morning, my dear.” 

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Valentine's Day from our favorite crazy-ass TV demon!

I'm sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but I was feeling so unmotivated by the end of it, and I decided to rewrite most of this fluff fic, just to give you all a quality post.

I don't half-ass things, especially when it comes to writing, that's just why my fics take a while to post.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and comments are always appreciated!

. . . 

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @matrixbearer2024

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!

just saw ur fic ideas post .......... how bout semi public stuff with gojo @ some high end jujutsu event and he just is SOOOO enamoured with how you look and takes you to the bathroom and ..... 😙

GOT A FETISH FOR YOUR LOVE !

ෆ note. sobs dies ressurects… im so weak… i had to write a full on fic… everyone thank T for this cuz i went crazy on this one and it’s super detailed for no reason. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. (perv)dom!satoru x female reader. semi public, p in v — unprotected, bits of manhandling, corruption kink, breast play, premature ejaculation, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, teasing, cum play, creampies, spanking, pussy slapping, mentions of masturbation, perv panty stealer satoru, implied cunnilingus, fucked against a wall, lots of dirty talk, satoru calls you ‘slutty’ once, satoru with the famous ‘just the tip’ beg, satoru sometimes turns whiny and subby so you get the best of both worlds (hes pathetic), he has a big dick ehem, pussy drunk satoru.

satoru couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you climb up the stairs near the torii gates of the high school he teaches at; your appearance only increasing in beauty due to the candle lights placed all around the environment.

your face and body were glistening under the moon light as you made your way up. you were silently cursing yourself for wearing heels while knowing that jujutsu tech was situated on top of a literal mountain.

unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had been waiting your arrival near the entrance since the first guests started pouring in.

with a sigh, you finally lift your head up as you notice the entrance to the main building come into view. there were lots of known sorcerers gathered around, chitchatting about recent business and changes in the jujutsu society.

you were too enamoured by the elegant decorations that hung around the school and the people who were dressed accordingly to the theme to even notice the white-haired man walking up to you.

which was unusual, since satoru’s tall physique could be easily spotted in any crowd.

“baby, you should’ve told me you had arrived!” satoru exclaims almost embarrassingly loud, waving at you without a care in the world of all the other guests that were giving him stares. his gaze was only on you, “i would’ve come picked you up.”

you wave back at him, eyes lingering on the tailored dark blue suit he was wearing, the waistcoat and dress shirt underneath being undeniably attractive. a bonus being that he was wearing his glasses and not his blindfold.

“it’s okay, love.” you reassure satoru as you walk a few steps towards him as well.

“ya sure? you didn’t hurt yourself or anything, right?” satoru pouts, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight, “my poor, poor girl.”

you roll your eyes at satoru’s antics. his one and only desire in life is to give you the princess treatment you deserve and it shows at moments like these.

“it’s fine,” you murmur, voice muffled as you bury your face into the crook of his neck; getting drowned in his familiar scent, “you look handsome by the way.”

satoru chuckles, feeling a bit giddy on the inside from your compliment. he almost responded with a ‘i know i do’, yet he held himself back. today was an exception and he decided to save you from any more cheeky remarks.

“thank you, pretty.” satoru hums, “you look ethereal.”

you could feel the way your boyfriend hugged you even tighter after his comment, pressing your body against his. you normally wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, however you could notice a few people glancing over at you two.

satoru couldn’t give a single damn about it; the only thing his senses were hyper focused on were your breasts that were squished against his chest—the curves of your body being easily accessible to the sorcerer.

“god..” his breath was shaky a little. satoru was really trying hard to repress his urges, the event hadn’t even started yet and even so, he was way too lost in his perverted thoughts.

he couldn’t help himself. you were just too addictive; your perfume, your warmth, your body, your face, your glossy lips… your breasts, your ass—

satoru clears his throat and pulls back after a bit, “shall we, m’lady?”

he bowed a little to you, putting his hand out for you to hold on while a subtle smirk played on his lips.

with a giggle, you grab onto his hand and satoru wastes no time interlocking your fingers as he guides you to the entrance of the main hall.

the building was scattered with even more sorcerers from all kinds of clans; some admiring the scenery, some sitting and eating various delicacies.

like before, you were too caught up in the scale of the event to realise that satoru was ogling you. it was a great thing that his pitch black lenses were blocking most of his eyes from the outside;

his gaze lingered on your side profile, your lips that were slightly parted in amazement, your hips which swayed from side to side with each step and your ass which he tried not to grope in public.

satoru hadn’t even noticed that he started to ball his hands into fists out of pure self control. his hand that was holding onto yours tightening its grip as well.

“something wrong?” you ask your boyfriend once you noticed, tilting your head to look up at him.

“nothin’, baby.” satoru lies and flashes you a reassuring smile, “c’mon. let’s enjoy some food.”

without waiting on your answer, satoru guides you towards a free cocktail table and stands near it, serving you an appetiser that was set on the table cloth.

you gladly accepted it and took a small bite, looking around the place some more and taking in the details, “it’s really pretty. the decor and stuff.”

satoru hums in agreement even though he hadn’t taken a single proper look at the environment when you were the main event in his eyes, “yeah. i think so too.”

everything about you somehow drove him crazy today. on most normal days, he could wait until you were at home to show you how much he adores you. that was not the case at the moment since he was fighting with his own self on the inside.

he was absolutely whipped for your elegant look.

“very pretty.” satoru mumbles under his breath. he most definitely wasn’t talking about the interior or exterior of the place.

it was getting harder by the minute to not give in to his primal needs. the more you talked to him, flashed him your innocent smile and let him hear your voice, the more he was struggling to keep his (now hard) dick in his pants.

you continued rambling about something that you noticed around you and satoru took the chance to place his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. it wasn’t anything unusual, thus you kept on talking.

it started off by him rubbing the area around your hips to his fingers subtly sliding downwards, eventually reaching the hem of your dress. his index finger dipped under the fabric, caressing your upper thigh. that small skin to skin action made satoru’s breath hitch and his cock twitch in its restraints.

“fuck.”

“what was that?” you abruptly stop yourself as you heard your lover curse under his breath. you weren’t aware of all the lewd thoughts going on in satoru’s mind and that made it even better. your innocent confusion wasn’t going to last long, however.

satoru lowered his head a bit until his lips were right next to your ear. the warmth of his breath made you shiver.

“i said,” he starts off in a low tone; one which he knows would make you weak for him, “i want you.”

it was as if time froze for you for a split second. you knew what satoru meant with that. you could’ve easily guessed the hidden meaning behind those three words just by his tone. the light but daring touches on your legs were your second hint.

“love, we’re in public.” you whisper back. satoru has a reputation to uphold as the strongest sorcerer in this entire building, yet there he was; implying that he wanted to take you right there and now.

a sigh left satoru’s lips, the air hitting your ear once again, “please, baby? for me?”

satoru was running out of patience. he could act out in the midst of the hall and disregard his image for all he cares. he just needed you. badly.

“promise i’ll be quick, yeah?” he adds, tone pleading but also a tad dominant.

you gulp and wanted to give in. you stood no chance to your whiny boyfriend, who always knew the right buttons to push to get you to comply to his requests.

satoru saw the hesitation in your eyes and he decided to plead more, “just the tip. i promise, sweets—tha’s all i need.”

a intrusive mental image of satoru fucking your brains out made him grip your thigh a bit harder; his voice suddenly growing deep and dominant, his expression filled with only lust.

“shit—please. have to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me or i’ll lose it.”

his words were growing explicit and it was only a matter of time before he actually touches you improperly in front of everyone. you could tell by the way his long fingers inched closer to your clothed cunt.

“..fine. just the tip, like you said.” you breathe out shakily out of pure desire. though, both of you knew that it was going to be more than ‘just the tip’.

satoru grinned and immediately put down the appetiser he was holding onto, grabbing your hand and almost rushing out of the hall.

there were a few sorcerers trying to greet him on the way, yet he didn’t even glance at them once. his eyes were dazed with hunger as he swiftly made his way through the crowd—his thoughts being filled with the ways he’ll have you moan and beg.

satoru opens up the door to the nearest bathroom, pushing you against the wall the moment the door closed behind you.

his glossy lips crash against yours, the lipstick you’re wearing smearing on your lover due to the aggressive and almost sloppy way he kissed you. his tongue prodded against your lips before entering your mouth—strings of saliva and heavy breaths being exchanged between you two for what felt like minutes.

“ah, fuck. i wanted this so bad,” satoru moans against your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “..since the moment i saw you in that dress.”

his big hands were all over your body; groping and grabbing onto your flesh, from your ass and thighs to your tits.

“mhhh— ‘toru, god,” you sigh, feeling yourself get wet from just his confessions, “you can have me, all of me.”

your lover grunts at your words. they were exactly what he needed to hear. he roughly pulls the hem of your dress up, revealing your white panties. his all time favourite. a small, lustful grin instantly appears on his face. he always thought that you looked extra innocent in those; and that by ripping those off, that he’ll corrupt that ‘pure’ image.

and don’t let him start on how many times he’s used that specific pair of panties to jerk off. he vividly remembers how his sticky cum covered the cloth afterwards.

“haah—fuckfuckfuck,” satoru curses repeatedly as his fingertips tremble out of pure desire, “can’t wait any longer. you’re gonna walk around the avenue with no panties later on, ‘kay?”

“sato-” your eyes widened and before you could even protest, you hear the fabric of your underwear tearing. the ripped off cloth falling down onto the cold floor.

“there we go,” he mutters in delight, his eyes gazed at your exposed pussy. his fingers rubbed over the skin, grazing the wet folds. a deep, breathy chuckle echoes throughout the bathroom, “this pussy’s just ready to be filled, don’tcha think?”

you nod feverishly and nibble on your lower lip at the way satoru was teasing your clit. his hand slowly cupped your slippery cunt, his palm covering the area entirely before slapping the velvety flesh. three small smacks, each making your limbs tremble.

“ya hear that?” satoru hums, completely overtaken by his desire for you as the squelchy sounds ring in his ears, “so ready to be stretched out and fucked.”

“hnnnh, ah, baby—please just, just fuck me.” you whimper; feeling the pressure of his hand’s thenar against your clit while his fingertips traveled across your vulva.

“oh, i definitely will.” satoru responds with a grunt as he undoes his belt and zipper with his free hand. his trousers and underwear fall down to his ankles, revealing his cock to you.

your mouth watered at the sight as it slightly slapped against his lower abdomen due to the speed at which satoru took his boxers off. the moist drops of thick pre-cum coating his pink tip, the slight curve of his big shaft and the veins covering it—you needed to have him in you.

when satoru thinks that he prepped you enough to take his cock, he removes his hand from between your legs. of course, he isn’t going to waste a chance of tasting your slick that gathered on his skin.

“turn around,” he orders after licking off his fingers and you do as said, “ass back towards me, pretty.”

one of satoru’s hands was on one side of your hips to hold you steady against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, the other occupied with stroking his cock. satoru was already contemplating on where to cum; in or on you. he’s obsessed with spurting his sticky cum on your plump ass, however he also loved stuffing you full of it.

“deep breaths,” your boyfriend reminds you as he prods the swollen tip of his cock at your entrance—despite the prep, it was always almost impossible to avoid a slight discomforting sensation in the beginning. that man’s length was no joke.

“ahhhh, fuuuck! satoru!” you hiss and your fingernails try to dig into the wall you were pressed against. you felt your folds being forced apart to fit his cock inside of your small cunt.

“shiiit.. you’re fuckin’ tight.” satoru grits his teeth. no matter how many times he breaks your pussy in, you still feel as tight as ever, “..mmh—relax, princess.”

satoru pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out and you both took a deep breath. a sloppy kiss was placed against the back of your neck as reward for taking him in. it was his habit of doing so every time the two of you get intimate.

“‘m gonna start moving. that alright?”

a simple nod coming from you was plenty to let satoru begin with slow, soft thrusts which soon enough turned into deep and firm thrusts—the pounding sounds echoing in the bathroom, “there we go—ahh, yeah— fuck!”

“mhhhg, s’good! ngh!” you slur your words a bit as satoru started to speed up the tempo, feeling his heavy balls slap against the skin near your clit every time he drove his thick cock into you, “mmph! more, wan’ more!”

neither you nor satoru could care anymore if your desperate mewls or the harsh skin-to-skin sounds were heard outside of the dimly lit bathroom.

satoru was slowly losing his mind as he gazed down at your ass and the way you moved your hips back to meet his rough thrusts—he never got enough of you in that position. his hands held onto your hips before moving to your lower back to deepen your arch a little. his eyes were in a trance; he needed to see more of that chubby ass and the recoil of it.

“i swear—you’re gonna make me,haah, cum already,” satoru moans as he tried to find a way to distract himself from the pleasure building up to a breaking point. he decides to gently bite onto your shoulder, running his tongue over the slight mark he left and then continues to suck on the flesh.

“hmmmh, haah, yes! need- need your cum in me, please- please, ‘toru!” you beg in such an erotic tone that satoru can’t help but bite down harder on your shoulder.

“princess—y-you can’t say that-” he swallows a lump in his throat as he forces his cock so deep that you felt it hit your cervix repeatedly, “please- don’t say that.. don’t, oh god—“

satoru was the one begging this time; his voice sounding more whiny than it had ever been during your little session. he can’t help it when it comes to you. he had desired to fuck you since he saw you and now that he was finally doing it, his senses were utterly overwhelmed.

“nonono,” you hear your boyfriend curse as the strokes inside your tight cunt turned harsh and quick, like he was on the verge of his climax, which he didn’t want. he didn’t want to cum in under two minutes, but he’s just so weak when it comes to you. so damn weak.

“ahhh, fuck— s-sorry, baby— can i cum? can i cum in you? please?” he bites his lips, shutting his eyes so tight that he could see colors.

“please, please, let me. mnghhh, please let me cum in you. wanna fill you up.” satoru repeats his words like a chant in your ear. you were as lost in the feeling of ecstasy as your lover was and just nodded at his whiny pleas.

“mhmm, yes, do it—cum in me!”

your permission was all satoru needed and not a second later, you felt ropes and ropes of hot cum flood your cunt and some drops gush out of your pulsating hole.

satoru was quivering slightly as he kept moving his hips in slow pumps, fucking the cum deeper into you. you were full of surprises; he didn’t know he could cum in under two minutes until right that instant. you really had him wrapped around your finger.

and the best thing? he was already starting to get hard once again.

satoru slowly pulled his dick out of you and only let the tip stay a few centimetres in you. one hand went to grab onto the base of his length and he started to tap and move the tip in tiny circular motions in your cum-filled pussy—making sure every single drop is dumped where it belonged.

“fucking greedy, ain’t ya?” satoru hisses as he feels you clench onto his tip like you were doing to his cock earlier, “your pussy just wants to milk me dry.”

you whine and push your hips back a little in attempt to push his cock further into your needy cunt again, “wan’ more.. please, ‘toru?”

gojo satoru was a weakling.

he slammed his cock fully inside of you again and didn’t care if you expected it or not; he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow. his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass, spanking it every now and then to feel you tighten up more around him while his hips were working full time.

“yeah? gonna take another load in your slutty cunt again?” satoru groans as he feels your pussy gripping onto his throbbing cock like it was pleading to be stuffed, “haaah—you’re incredible, nhh, never had anyone make me cum this quick and hard before.”

your body squirmed and shivered each time you felt satoru spank you, ending up in a repeated cycle of you tightening up around him and him smacking the fat of your ass, “yes, yes, yes! want it, please!”

it was incredibly difficult to hold back your own orgasm when satoru was whispering filthy things in your ear, pounding into your creamy pussy while also stimulating your clit.

satoru instantly caught onto the fact that you were nearing your climax. you always started to get more noisy whenever you were close, “aah, mhm—cum on my cock while i dump another load inside of you. c’mon, you can do it.”

satoru’s words made your stomach fill with butterflies, the coil inside of you threatening to finally snap.

“‘m gonna.. gonna cum! gonna cum!” you cry out between ragged breaths, eyes rolling into the back of your head once you reached your long-awaited climax.

the sight of you arching your back even more while you came was the hottest thing satoru’s seen. he rushed his thrusts, becoming more precise to hit your cervix over and over again.

“mhm, jus’ like that—tighten up more.” your lover hisses and his nails dug into the flesh of your hips while he felt your pussy throbbing from overstimulation, “milk me dry, pretty—fuck!”

your mind was foggy with that euphoric feeling after reaching your orgasm. but also due to satoru continuing to bully his thick cock all the way in you, seemingly needing to drain his balls inside your cunt.

“mhhhhnn, ‘m gonna fill ya up again,” he whimpers a bit into your ear from behind while sweat drips from his forehead, “take it all like a good girl, yeah? don’t—haah— waste a drop.”

and with that he spurts and squirts strings of cum into your womb once more. it felt like there was no ending to it as his semen just continued to pump out of the tip.

“fuckkk! got more for you,” satoru almost sobs out, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips as his muscles tense up. he came so much into you that even more of the liquid drizzled down on the floor beneath you, “take it—yeah—jus’ like that.”

a few more deep and chaste strokes and satoru was done. he exhaustedly rests his chin on your shoulder, white locks clinging onto his forehead and his cheeks colouring a reddish hue.

“haahh.. that was amazing.” satoru sighs deeply, trying to catch his breath while wrapping his arms around your waist. he buried his face into your neck, leaving small pecks there while mumbling about how good you were for him.

your eyes were closed as you rest against the wall, enjoying the affection from your lover while you feel his dick go limp inside you. satoru slowly pulls out afterwards, biting his lip as his gaze lingered on all the fluids leaking down your trembling thighs.

“hold on,” satoru murmurs gently, “gonna clean you up, princess.”

his own legs were shaking slightly as he quickly put his boxers and pants back on. your boyfriend grabs a few tissues from a nearby dispenser, kneeling behind you afterwards.

your eyes followed his fingers as they held onto the wipes and started to clean you up slowly. the comfortable silence—excluding the muffled sounds of chatter and music from outside the bathroom—was perfect for you to catch your breath.

satoru was diligently sliding the tissues over your skin, making sure to not be too rough.

as much as he tried telling himself not to get turned on again from the sight of your ass and sopping cunt in front of his face, he just couldn’t.

your lover was breathing heavily and stopped cleaning you up for a second. he really tried his best to stop himself over and over, though the title of being the strongest didn’t apply to his self control.

his large hands came up to hold onto your ass, spreading the cheeks apart which made your lips part in shock. you looked over your shoulder at him and sensed the resurfacing lust in the air. not only that: his warm breath hit your sensitive pussy as he panted in a hungry way.

satoru lifted his head up to meet your eyes, flashing you a (not so) apologetic grin;

“sorry, pretty. i need to get my dessert.”