La Vie en Rouge || Alastor x Reader ONESHOTS

Uncovered.

Human!Alastor x Human!Reader
(Warnings: Fluff, Sexual mentions)
My own one shot

***

Nothing serious really kept you bound with Alastor. The only real reason you knew him was because you had accidentally stumbled upon him in the middle of the act — in the sense of killing another person. Why hadn't you turned him in? You were having a stressful day, week, month...year. And you simply couldn't be bothered. You had just...stood there. Waiting for him to turn around and lunge at you. To send your soul somewhere better. But instead, when his eyes had landed on your frozen form, the both of you just stared at each other, waiting for someone to do something first. If you moved first, he would chase you. If he moved first, you would let him kill you.

"Well?" the man's familiarly calm voice sounded from the darkness of the alley. "You gonna rat me out? Call the coppers?" His shiv was held tightly in his hand, a weak grin reflecting in the light. "Eh, what would I gain from that?" you retorted and crossed your arms. Your culprit shrugged, "Safety." You, too, shrugged, "If I run, you'll catch me."
"A clever girl, you are," he cooed, twirling the knife. "Plus, I would die either way, might as well make it easier for you, no?" A thoughtful hum sounded from the tall man. "What's your name, doll?"

You shrugged again. "Why should it matter? I'll be killed anyway." The man stepped into the light, grinning as he bent down at the waist to meet your height. "Fine. It's (Y/n)," you gave in, looking a tad unamused. "Well then, (Y/n)," your name rolled off his tongue wonderfully. "How about a small deal?"

So it began. He would regularly come over to your home just after midnight so you could make him a meal, tend to his wounds, allow him to clean himself up. And he would repay you with a long night of pleasurable relaxation to ease your pent up stress, your limbs tangling with his in the darkness of the room while the two of you became one, soft, breathy gasps melting together, as did your bodies. His slow, gentle thrusts never failing to calm your overwhelmed mind.

It was rare either of you drank beforehand, so you both knew exactly what you were doing. But nothing was ever shared. If you crossed him in the streets the next day, there were no words exchanged, no greetings, no waves, not even just a small nod of acknowledgment. It was as if the two of you were total strangers in the day. But at night, things completely turned around.

Currently, you were sat up in your bed with the covers pulled over your bare breasts as you watched Alastor dress himself. It was still three in the morning. "Leaving again?" you asked, though you already knew the answer to such a query. "Of course, dear" he sighed while fluffing out his disheveled auburn brown hair. "Can't you stay? Just this once?" you pleaded, wishing to no longer sleep in an empty bed, like you had every single night of your life. "You know I can't do that," the man answered, setting his round spectacles on the bridge of his nose before beginning to tie his black bowtie.

"But it's just one night," you mumbled, sighing softly to yourself. "My darling, you know the reputation I have," Alastor cooed with that charming smile of his as he straightened out his white dress shirt. "What would people think if they found out I was sleeping with some random woman I met off the streets? I could lose the name I've made for myself," the man chuckled lowly, pulling his leather, fingerless gloves over his caramel colored hands. Ouch. That hit a soft spot.

"You understand that, right?" his voice was gentle, though it didn't help the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes. His hands cupped your cheeks, a delicate kiss being planted upon your tender lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, my little doe." With that, his warmth left you and the door to your room was opened before it closed with a soft click, the waterfalls finally breaking through the dams that held them. It honestly wasn't the fact that he called you a "random woman". Well, sort of. But it was more the fact that he cared more about his reputation than your feelings. But suppose if the roles were reversed, you would have probably thought the same.