Hopeless Romantic (Alastor x Reader)

1: Alastor's Game

You've heard it all before.

"It's not you, it's me."

"You're not really my type."

"I'm not feeling it anymore."

"I think we should go our separate ways."

And of course, your favorite and by far the most dramatic excuse: "Fate is against us."

It was used by your most recent (and douche-iest) boyfriend, (Ex/n). The one that left you more traumatized than before. But he's long gone now so it's "okay. "

No relationship of yours has ever worked out. Every time you try to meet people in real life it always goes south ranging from them already being taken to just being flat-out rejected. Eventually, you turned to dating apps: Tinder, Match, Bumble- only to be matched with a very horny guy or a complete troll.

The few dates you did manage to snag were usually blind dates set up by your friends.

Maybe it's you.

Maybe you're just not meant to find love? You can't exactly blame them entirely for your incompatibility. Ever since you were a child you've always had trouble opening up to people and fitting in. Maybe all you need right now is a friend. Or someone to offer you comfort every now and then.

Or a deal with the devil himself.

Nah, just kidding. You're not that stupid. You know better than to fuck around with that demonic bullshit.

But your drunk self didn't quite get the memo.

"H-hey- hey guys," your dumbass friend slurred, "Let's choke on some demon dick."

By that, they meant 'let's use the Ouija Board and screw ourselves over.'

And you were all drunk in your house with no parents around to stop you- what else were you gonna do, say no? You kinda lost the ability to consent to anything the second you started getting tipsy.

Then it happened.

You blacked out. Duh. You were fucking wasted and probably a little high. The last thing you remember is your friends leaving in a hurry. Everything after that is a blur of red and laughs.

❥

"*Mumbling* Get your dildo off the counter..."

You rolled over in your sleep, reaching your arms out for the closest thing your lonely ass can grab.

Whatever you clung to stiffened at the touch but it felt warm so you held onto it, assuming it must be your pet cat, Onyx.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting the gaze of an extremely tall, lanky deer man.

You shrieked and fell off the bed, taking half the sheets with you.

Then you got to your feet and grabbed a hairbrush off the nightstand, hurling it at the smiling weirdo in your bed. You sped out the door and made it downstairs, only to see the freak himself blocking the exit.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?!"

Picking up the closest thing to you, an old unused house phone, you chucked it at the man as well, only for him to duck under the projectile and appear right in front of you.

"Bitch you better back off before I Bruce Lee your scrawny ass."

"Hah!" The man in red picked you up by the back of your shirt collar, lifting you to eye level with him as you kicked and squirmed in his grasp. "I'd like to see you try, little fawn."

Little fawn? What the hell kinda nickname is that?

Suddenly you started feeling nauseous.

"P-put me down!"

He threw his head back into a laugh, and it was now that you noticed his unnaturally sharp teeth and deathly skin. "Not until you apologize dear, and promise to-"

All the remnants of last night's drinking sesh came spilling out of your throat before he could finish his sentence. The man vanished into a shadow before it could touch him, leaving you to fall to your knees and clutch your stomach in a futile attempt to alleviate your puking sensation.

It took a minute, but eventually you finished spitting up and silence engulfed you. The deer man reappeared in front of you, a few more feet from where he once was. He was the first to say something:

"I can't decide whether you should live or die."

______________

A/n: Not gonna lie the last line felt so fcking goofy to write 'cause I keep imagining him singing it instead of saying it.
Anyway, I'm gonna try not to edit this book too much 'cause it's gonna be more freestyle than anything.