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a11eya · 3 days

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TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

STATUS: Ongoing; 2 of ?

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

Okay, so you’re a liar.

You’re still—really attracted to Bakugou. You don’t think you ever stopped being attracted to him.

You’d told Rie a half truth; yes, at first, what’d drawn you to him was his face.

Even in your generation’s set of heroes—the likes of which include the so-beautiful-he’s-almost-unreal legacy hero, Pro Hero Shouto, and All Might’s successor, sweet, freckled, boy-next-door Pro Hero Deku—Bakugou stands out. Something about him makes you want to look at him.

When you were teenagers, he had the rough, unfinished kind of good looks he’d at best disregarded and at worst willfully skewed, often marring them with bared teeth, deep scowls, and constant yelling.

As an adult, he’s devastating.

Those good looks matured into a deeply attractive masculinity, a captivating mix of confidence and competence, his personality’s extremes tempered. His shoulders broadened; he’d shot up in height. The scars he’d collected during the war gave him a dangerous, alluring edge.

(Or so the web magazines and tabloids say. When you look at his scars, you remember that time of fear and uncertainty; you remember the relief you felt when it was over, the catch in your chest when you saw Sero’s, Mina’s, Kaminari’s faces. Bakugou’s face. Battered, hurt, but okay.)

You didn’t tell Rie that what you find even more attractive about Bakugou is what you’ve learned of him, from how the people who care about him talk about him. From what you’ve seen of him when you do cross paths.

A year or two ago, Deku nearly collapsed from overwork consulting on a difficult, international case while maintaining his regular workload. The only reason you know as much as you do about it (not much) is because their class is still so close, even after all these years, and it’d come up briefly during a get-together.

“Midoriya only listens to Bakugou,” Sero’d said over drinks one night, shaking his head. “That guy’s hard headed. But he’ll be okay. Bakugou’s got it.”

Bakugou knocked some sense into Deku, apparently, and had supported him to the end of that case.

You hear that another of their classmates, Jirou, has a pretty popular band. You were shocked to see a video circulating a couple months ago featuring Bakugou on the drums. He’d worn all black, a shirt with the sleeves cut off, and someone on Chirper had zoomed in on his face and confirmed he’d been wearing eyeliner.

Mina’d told you that Jirou’s drummer had broken his wrist right before a performance. Bakugou had subbed in. You didn’t save the eyeliner picture, but sometimes you think about how his eyes looked in it and shiver.

The last time you saw Bakugou was at that dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina. Kirishima’d gotten a little drunk, celebrating a completed case. As you all went your separate ways that night, you couldn’t help but notice the gruff way Bakugou’d lent Kirishima a shoulder, nagging him, but still supporting his weight as he hailed a cab and helped his friend home.

You like that he’s dependable. You like that he cares so much about his friends, despite appearing to the rest of the world as unapproachable and irritable, a bomb waiting to go off.

You’ve learned all these things about him secondhand; you know—you know that there’s a huge difference between that and knowing him yourself, directly. If you could have a do-over with him, you’d have played it cool, in high school. Maybe then you could’ve at least been friends, instead of friends of friends.

You don’t think that’s in the cards for you. And that’s okay. You’ve made your peace with it.

Yawning, you cover your mouth, then rub at your eyes, trying to wake up. It’s early enough that you’re really regretting trying to stick to your routine by going for a run, even while on vacation.

You’re already dressed, out here and ready, you tell yourself. Just go. You think of how good the massage you’ve got scheduled later today will feel after some exercise.

The hills surrounding the ryokan are green with the beginnings of spring, and here outside the city, closer to the mountains, the heat and the humidity have yet to reach their seasonal peaks. The air’s clear, and you inhale deeply.

You’d have to thank the staff member who’d suggested this forest trail to you. It’s conveniently close to the ryokan while still being far enough apart that you have yet to bump into any early bird tourists. And the scenery’s a perfect companion on your run.

With this thought to motivate you, you set to stretching.

You’re bent down, reaching to touch your toes, when the barest sound of footsteps comes from behind you.

You jump, swinging around.

Bakugou stands there in shorts and a form-fitting shirt, hands stuffed into his pockets. Your eyes snag on his shoulders, his biceps.

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re jumpy as fuck,” he tells you, and you make a face.

“Wear a bell,” you retort. Your heart’s still beating a little fast.

He snorts, then begins his own stretches.

You watch him for a few moments before your brain turns on.

“You’re not… going running with me, are you?” you ask. Wait. Maybe he’s just going running at the same time as you. Not necessarily with you.

“Why, can’t keep up?” Bakugou asks, a hint of a smirk on his face. He maintains eye contact for a beat longer, long enough for your stupid brain to remember how attractive he is, for your heart to pick up the pace without your permission. With how much work your heart’s put in within just five minutes, maybe you don’t even need to work out this morning.

He straightens up, and without another word, he takes off.

You stand there for a moment, stupefied. Then, scowling, you run after him.

“You’ve got stamina,” Bakugou says, leaning against the table.

“...Thanks,” you say, the word coming out as more of a question than a statement, and he grunts but doesn’t say anything more. Shifting your weight, you sip your water, wondering how you got here.

You’d caught up with Bakugou pretty fast—you suspect he wasn’t going full speed. For a while, you’d stressed. Were you going too slow? Too fast? Did he really expect you to keep up with him, when fitness is a big part of his job as a pro hero, while you’re a normal office worker?

But minutes and distance passed, and thoughts faded into the background. Your exertion overrode your worries. You let yourself fall into the feeling of your feet striking dirt, the rhythmic inhale and exhale of air.

All the while, Bakugou kept pace with you. When you’d decided you were done after a couple loops of the trail, he’d accompanied you back to the ryokan, lingering with you here at the lobby’s refreshments area.

You’re really not sure what’s happening. It’s hard to believe that your leisurely run was up to his usual standards. You wonder if he’s bored, craving company, since he’d come out here alone and you’re conveniently around to sate that boredom.

“So do you usually run outdoors, or do you use your agency’s gym?” you ask, wrapping your hands around your water cup.

“Gym,” Bakugou says. His face grows pinched, annoyed. “Too many randos try to talk to me if I go running outdoors.”

“Oh, right. Pro Hero Dynamight.” You frown. “That sucks. But your agency’s gym’s pretty nice, I hear. Hanta’s said he wishes ours was as good.”

“It’s decent,” he says. His eyes move to your hands, fidgeting with your cup. Self-conscious, you stop.

Abruptly, he says, “Heard you got promoted recently. Congrats.”

“Oh!” Tilting your head slightly, you say, “Thanks, Bakugou. Though honestly, it feels like I just get more work dumped on me with the added responsibility of having to fix people’s problems when work drama happens. The pay bump’s nice, though.”

“You’ve always been good at your shit,” Bakugou says. “Don’t downplay it.”

You blink. Ridiculously, you feel your face begin to warm up.

“Thanks,” you say again, a little softer. You smile up at him.

He looks at you, and—it feels like he’s so close. Was he always standing this close?

Your phone chimes from within your pocket. You fish it out, eyes dropping to your phone screen as you avoid Bakugou’s eyes, feeling shy and off balance. Which is dumb, because it was just a compliment, jeez. Get it together. He’s just being nice.

It’s Rie, wondering where you are and asking you to get back to your room. Checking the time, you wince. You’d been out later than you intended.

“Hey, I gotta run,” you tell Bakugou. Glancing around, you look for somewhere to get rid of your cup.

“I got it,” Bakugou says, taking it from you. Your hands brush against each other, and you’re so annoyed at yourself for being so aware of him that juvenile gestures like this get your heart rate up.

“Thanks,” you say. “And thanks for the company! It was fun. Maybe I’ll see you around, but if I don’t, enjoy the rest of your vacation!”

You don’t wait for a reply, hurrying out of the lobby towards your room.

Rie’s packing when you use your key to let yourself into the room.

For a moment, you stare at her as she moves what few things she’d unpacked back into her luggage. You just want to be sure that she’s packing her things rather than unpacking them, as you’d finished doing just yesterday.

“Hello? What’re you doing?” you say. “Our reservation’s for the entire weekend, so why are you packing?”

Rie groans loudly. “Don’t remind me. I’m so mad. Stop standing there and come sit so I can explain.”

Bewildered, you toe off your shoes and sit on one of the lounge chairs, unwilling to sit on either of your beds in workout clothes.

Rie perches on the table in front of you and looks at you. “So don’t be mad. But I have to go because I got an emergency call from a client who has an event this evening. She’s paying me triple, and she’s going to reimburse me for my reservation here.”

Your jaw drops. “Triple? Must be a rich client.”

Rie laughs. “Very. Her wallet won’t even notice. And now I can use her reimbursement to book a future reservation with Hanta.”

“I mean, that’s great for you, but… Should I come back with you? So you’re not traveling back alone?”

Rie looks at you like you’ve said something ridiculous. “What? No. Stay here. Enjoy the rest of the weekend. It’s like… doubly free for you now, so there’s no way you can waste it.”

You frown. She’s right; it would be a waste to go. But it’s a little… lonely, thinking about the plans you’d made together and knowing you’d be doing them by yourself, now.

Ever perceptive, Rie reaches over and jostles your leg. “Hey. I really am sorry for leaving you for work. If you want, I can tell her I’m not available. I know we came all the way out here together, and you did it as a favor. She’s a regular client. She won’t drop me if I cancel on her once.”

You’re already shaking your head. “No way. The deal’s too good. If you do something dumb like that, I’ll kill you.”

Snorting, Rie leans back. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you say firmly. You smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

You see Rie off as she climbs into a shuttle provided by the ryokan. It’ll take her to the train station, and she should arrive back in the city by mid-afternoon.

You text Sero in case he doesn’t know Rie’s headed back. Maybe he could pick her up at the station. You’ve yet to receive a reply from him, but you know he’s probably busy with patrol right now.

After showering the sweat of your workout off, you sprawl across your bed and stare at the ceiling.

Originally, your plans had been to check out the town’s morning market, shop around a bit, then have lunch. After that, a visit to a temple nearby was on the agenda. The day would end with your scheduled massage and a dip in the onsen.

Now, the thought of such an activities-filled day tires you.

You close your eyes. Maybe you can just. Skip everything except for the massage today.

Your phone pings. Eyes still closed, you pat around next to you for it and then check the message you’d received.

Rie: If I find out you just stayed in the room for the next two days… 🔪🔪🔪

If you didn’t already know her quirk, you would’ve thought she’s telepathic.

Sighing, you force yourself up and off the bed and get dressed.

The market’s busy, with tourists and locals alike mingling through the crowded main street. Shops line either side of the street, some selling local handicrafts and souvenirs, others selling food and desserts.

The overlapping sounds create a pleasant background hum, and you happily peer into stores, hunting for things to bring back.

You find a bath and skincare set for Rie, who constantly complains about her dry skin but never does anything about it. A coin purse for Mina, who always carries her coins loose in her pockets, clinking around. Some local confections for Kaminari and Sato. Hanta gets a bag full of local fruits; he’s always been a little bit of a health nut.

Just as you’re about to enter a bakery, windows lined with delicious looking breads and desserts, you spot a familiar blond head of hair just outside.

“Bakugou?” you call out, and he turns.

Like you, he’s changed from workout clothes to casual clothes. Jeans, a shirt. He’s holding a coffee with the bakery’s branding.

“Is that any good?” you ask, pointing at his drink.

He shrugs. “S’okay.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a smile. “I’m starting to think that just okay to you is what regular people think is great.”

He gives you a look, and you grin.

Stepping back, you wave a little. “I’m gonna go inside and check things out. It was nice seeing you.”

Instead of continuing on his way, Bakugou follows you inside. Surprised that he’s stuck around, you glance back at him.

“What’re you gonna get?” he asks you.

In this little bakery, you can’t help but notice how tall he is. Especially with him right behind you, waiting for you to answer.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet, so… This bread looks pretty good.” You point at it. It’s savory looking, with cheese and some type of meat on it. “And I saw someone come out with this strawberry cream croissant! It’s the real reason I’m in here.”

You don’t hear what he says in response, as you’re next in line and quickly order. When you go to pay, you find yourself nudged aside as Bakugou takes care of it before you can protest.

“Bakugou, what?”

“Didn’t anybody teach you to just say thank you?” Bakugou says, herding you to the side with a hand on your back so that the person behind you can order. His touch is so warm; you wonder if it’s because of his quirk, if it works that way.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, then frown. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Go get your bread,” he just says.

You do, feeling off-kilter again. It’s what you’ve been feeling every single time you’ve seen Bakugou this weekend. You’ve gone from seeing him maybe two or three times a year since you graduated to two or three times a month this last year. And now, within the span of twenty-four hours, you’ve seen him three times.

And it hasn’t been purposeful, at least on your end. So has it been purposeful… on Bakugou’s end?

“What’re you thinking,” Bakugou says as the two of you rejoin the crowds of people walking the main street. You don’t have a particular destination in mind, and if Bakugou does, he doesn’t say anything.

You consider being straightforward and asking him what the deal is. He’s never shown any interest in interacting with you before.

But—no, it’s a little too embarrassing. It could really just be coincidence. The ryokan is big, but not that big. It’d be easy to bump into the same person there. And there’re a bunch of touristy things to do in the area, but only to an extent. He could just be interested in doing the same things you’re interested in checking out.

Asking him if he’s been bumping into you on purpose… no way.

“There’s a famous dango place nearby,” you end up saying, then take a quick bite of the strawberry croissant. You nearly moan. It’s so good. The strawberries are fresh, and the croissant is flaky and light. The cream isn’t too sweet. It’s perfect.

Swallowing hastily, you continue, “They have seasonal flavors, but their mitarashi is really good too, I hear.”

“Fucking messy,” Bakugou says. You make a questioning sound, turning your head to look at him. He looks at you for a long moment, then snorts. He grabs your arm to halt you, tugs you out of the way of people walking.

Taking a napkin from his pocket, he tilts your chin up and wipes your mouth. You can only stand there, eyes wide.

“You had a lotta something there,” he says. His eyes tell you he’s laughing at you. Looking around, he finds a trash can to toss the napkin and his empty coffee cup.

“Have you been hit by a quirk?” you demand once he’s back by your side.

“What?” he asks. His brow furrows. He scowls.

“Nevermind,” you say quickly. “Anyway, I’m going to grab some dango.”

With narrowed eyes, you point at him. “And you can only come if you promise not to pay for anything, okay?”

He lifts a brow at you, and you take that as a yes. The two of you resume walking.

“Where’s Rie?” Bakugou asks suddenly, and you tilt your head at him.

“I’m surprised you know her name, with how much you call her Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend,” you say, smiling. It fades a little as you continue, “She had to leave because of work. So I’m vacationing solo for the rest of the weekend.”

Bakugou’s expression is unreadable. You’re not sure what to make of it.

“It’s cool. Since I’m on my own, I get to decide where I’m going,” you say. “Instead of checking out the temple, I want to do a hike at the national park nearby. Supposedly, the views are amazing.”

“Y’gonna do that today?” Bakugou asks.

You shake your head. “No, I figure I’ll take it easy today. Enjoy the onsen. I’ll do the hike tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s silent for a moment, and then, “You shouldn’t hike an unfamiliar trail alone. If you want someone to do that shit with, take me.”

You blink, startled. “Oh, I… I don’t want to impose. Don’t you have stuff you want to do here, too? I don’t wanna ruin your plans.”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Not really.”

Stranger and stranger. Who comes to a vacation destination without anything to do in mind?

If you were smart, you’d tell him thanks but no thanks. That you could handle it by yourself.

Because spending all this time with Bakugou is making you delusional. You’re starting to read into his little touches, the things he’s saying, when he’s just being nice to his friend’s friend. His friend’s friend who got ditched on vacation.

But you like him too much to say no.

“Okay,” you tell him. “If you’re really cool with it, I wouldn’t mind the company. We should exchange numbers to make planning where to meet and at what time easier.”

Bakugou grunts, pulling out his phone. He takes a moment to tap at his phone, then offers it to you. You do the same.

As you resume walking, your hand brushes against his. The part of you that’s foolish, romantic, pretends that this moment is something more.

Notes: Hello again, darlings! Thank you so much for all the love you gave part one of this fic. 🥺 You guys are the best fr. 💖

As you can tell from this part's ending... I, like reader, am a liar lmao. A week ago, I thought this fic would end in just two parts, but I kept writing, and writing, and I realized I need at least another chapter, maybe two, to fully flesh out what I have planned. I hope you can forgive me. 🙏

Some notes for this chapter... Rie's a celebrity makeup and hair artist! The morning market is based off of shopping you can do in Arashiyama. I have had strawberry cream croissants from a Japanese-French bakery where I live, and they are delicious. Dango are little balls of rice flour that're on skewers. A popular flavor is mitarashi, or a sweet soy sauce flavor.

Anyway, I'll see you next weekend with another update! Hugs and kisses! ✨💞

Tag List: @blairbellerose @yeehawgiddyup13 @reads-stuff-quietly @surprisemodafakas @scarlett-witchh @queenpiranhadon @sleepyyhabii @j-pendragonx @bakunianadecorazon @dreamingoftomorrow @nonamebbsblog @gina239 @seabass17 @dynakats @I-bozo-I @humblechumbble @universal-s1ut @sweetblueworm @kukikoooo @liluvtojineteyam

#i feel like this chapter is just. bkg bkg bkg and reader is like !!!#but tbh that's just a glimpse into my brain #read this fic and think about how pretty bkg looked in the bnha season 7 thing #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #fic: dystam?#jess scribbles

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 20 days

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A Dance in Death

Title: A Dance in Death

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Word Count: ~3,927

In which Alastor takes the reader out to Mimzy’s club. Things go sideways much too soon, but the Radio Demon is quick to make amends.

A/N: This is a part 2 of sorts to my previous Alastor x reader fic, Doubt, but it can also be read as its own individual fic! Hope you enjoy :)

Mimzy’s speakeasy was most known for three things.

One, it was known for its captivating acts and performances. Demons and sinners from all around Pentagram City had heard stories and whispers about what could be experienced there. Two, it was known for being one of the most lively and entertaining places on this side of Hell. And three, it was known for being on the wrong side of town, making it the perfect place for no-good demons to spend their time and even do discrete business, so long as they paid their dues to Mimzy, of course.

That last point probably should have kept you away from this place. But you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing that you had come on the arm of the Radio Demon himself. After all, who would dare approach you with Alastor around?

Nobody, as it turned out. You and Alastor had been sitting in a corner booth for almost an hour now, and nobody had dared to come within ten feet of you, save for one unfortunate server who had graciously provided you both with your drinks before scurrying off and hiding, not coming back even once.

And although you enjoyed any time that you got to spend alone with Alastor, you couldn’t help but notice that the two of you were both on edge that night.

You, on one hand, simply wanted to dance. It wasn’t often that you were able to go to bars or speakeasies, and you would have loved nothing more than to lead the demon across from you on to the dancefloor. But you knew better than that. Alastor’s interest in you came with limits that you hadn’t yet discovered, but you’d be double-damned if you were going to find them out tonight.

Although you had to admit, as you gazed out longingly at the dancing demons on the floor, that you wouldn’t mind at least trying to share a drink and a conversation with your partner. But that wouldn’t happen until Mimzy finally decided to saunter over to your table.

Which led you to the reason for Alastor’s impatience.

The whole reason that he had invited you out tonight was because Mimzy had requested an audience with him at her place of business. To discuss what, you weren’t sure, but you knew that the Radio Demon hated to be kept waiting.

His impatience was starting to become evident, though it was likely that nobody around you noticed anything amiss. You, however, had become well versed in reading Alastor’s silent cues.

He had yet to touch his drink, though his clawed hand was firmly wrapped around the glass. He was surveying the building with apparent disinterest, but you could see the way that his sharp gaze roamed over each and every other demon and sinner present. You could see tension in the corners of his ever present smile, even though his eyes were hooded in an expression of mild boredom.

As you downed the last drops of your drink, you risked a glance over to Alastor once again. You had wanted to strike up a conversation since you had stepped foot through the door, but hadn’t wanted to distract him from his thoughts. But when his grip around the glass tightened once again, your internal war finally ended. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have him suddenly lose his composure and bring the whole place to the ground.

You cleared your throat lightly as you placed your glass back down on the table. You received Alastor’s attention immediately, his eyes darting over to yours. “Yes, my dear?”

You smiled back at him. “Mimzy has a lot of nerve hyping this place up when it has such terrible customer service, doesn’t she?”

With no small amount of satisfaction, you noticed Alastor’s smile ease into something that almost resembled kind amusement. “Indeed,” Alastor hummed. “Though I must say, her choice in song is quite enjoyable.”

You shrugged, looking back at the dance floor. “It’s fine to dance to, I suppose. Not so much fun when you’re stuck sitting and waiting for someone to show up.”

There was no response. You returned your gaze to Alastor to see him looking at you almost curiously. “I wasn’t aware that you were one for dancing, my dear.”

A laugh bubbled up and pushed its way through your lips before you could stop it. You pressed your fingers to your lips to try and conceal it as Alastor tilted his head at you in confused interest.

At the sound of your laughter, his shadow suddenly perked up, quickly making its way over and sitting beside you.

When your giggle had finally subsided, you opened your mouth to respond to Alastor’s comment. It wasn’t completely his fault that he knew so little about your past life, after all, but you hadn’t expected that he, of all people, would make such blatant assumptions.

Before you could get a word out, though, the shadow placed a clawed hand under your chin, tilting your head to face it. Its fingers wandered until they reached the base of your throat before gently clawing their way back up, almost as if trying to coax another laugh out of you through touch alone.

It was so much more intimate than you had thought Alastor was capable of.

But then Alastor waved a hand in the air, summoning his shadow back to his side. It obeyed almost immediately, caressing your throat once more before melting back into the floor and returning to its rightful place.

You cleared your throat again, this time in an attempt to fight the red spots on your cheeks. Not that their presence had escaped Alastor’s notice. His smile had widened dramatically, though thankfully, he chose not to comment on the interaction, instead waiting for a response to his earlier comment.

“I do dance,” you finally replied, looking back up at the Overlord. “I used to dance plenty before…well, you know,” you said with a small grin. “I died.”

Alastor waved away your comment with a flourish. “Ah, yes, I do see how such a thing could impede on your abilities for a moment. Though, if I’m not mistaken, you now have two perfectly functioning legs.”

“But I haven’t been to a club since before I died. And there’s not much opportunity to show off my moves at the hotel,” you replied with a shrug. You tilted your head at the demon. “And you? Do you dance?”

The Overlord smiled wistfully. “Oh yes, I was quite known for my dancing abilities back in the land of the living.”

“I thought you were known for being a mass murdering radio host.”

Alastor shrugged, giving you a devious grin. “I’ve always been multitalented, my dear.”

You laughed again, this time trying to ignore the eager look you received from both Alastor and his shadow.

“You know,” you said slyly once you had calmed yourself, looking down at your empty glass. “I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my skills tonight after your meeting.” You looked up innocently, meeting Alastor’s eyes. “If you haven’t lost your impeccable skills, that is.”

The demon’s eyes flashed. “Careful, mon chere. I-”

“Alastor! How’re you doing, doll?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of the new voice. You stared as a short, blonde woman made her way across the floor, arms raised in welcome and a broad smile on her face.

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered as he greeted the woman. “Mimzy, dear,” he drawled, turning away from you. His smile stretched unnaturally. “You are extraordinarily late.”

The woman- Mimzy- waved her hand in indifference. “I’m busy running a business, Al, you know how it is. Can’t eva get anyone to do what you want without a bit of prodding.”

Her gaze slid over to you, eyes widening as her smile grew. “Say, Alastor, did you bring me a new toy?” Her eyes roamed over you slowly. “She’s a little dull, but I can spruce her right up.”

You suddenly felt very exposed.

You recoiled slightly, attempting to keep your movements unnoticeable as you pressed yourself further into the booth to get away from the Mimzy’s prying eyes.

You tried not to notice the way that other demons and sinners had begun to glance over at the sudden appearance of the bar’s owner. They aren’t looking at you, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help but take in Mimzy’s confident appearance and attitude, coupled with Alastor’s calm poise. You could see how the Mimzy could have mistaken you for one of Alastor’s wayward souls.

Almost as if it could sense your discomfort, Alastor’s shadow suddenly reared up and placed itself directly in front of you, blocking you from Mimzy’s line of sight.

“Unfortunately, Mimzy dear,” Alastor said from opposite you, though he avoided looking in your direction. “Charlie has grown quite attached to her little friend, and I doubt she would be thrilled to discover that I had allowed her to become a part of your…”

“Productions,” you piped up. Alastor’s shadow looked back at you in delight before shifting through the air to sit beside you once again.

“Precisely,” Alastor said.

Mimzy only shrugged, giving you a wink. “Well, I’m here if you change your mind, hun.”

She turned back to Alastor. “Let’s you and me talk for a bit, huh? I know this sorta thing ain’t really your cup of tea. I’ve got a room in the back that we can use. Your little doll will be alright on her own for a while, won’t she?”

At her words, Alastor finally turned to face you once again, his eyes roaming over your face for only a moment before he stood. “Of course. I never would have brought her otherwise.”

With that, he made to follow Mimzy without so much as a glance back in your direction. A move that he had made on purpose, you were sure. After all, it simply wouldn’t do to have others believe that the Radio Demon actually cared for someone.

Even so, you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as the two sinners walked away. From beside you, in the dim light that the club so generously provided, Alastor’s shadow placed its hand on yours comfortingly. You turned to face it with a smile. “At least I still have you.”

The shadow grinned, using its other hand to gently cradle your cheek, pulling you closer until your foreheads met. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as your heart grew light. The shadow might not have been Alastor himself, but you had learned enough to know that it was heavily influenced by Alastor’s own thoughts, feelings, and commands. This was as close to affectionate that he would ever be with you.

Suddenly, the shadow’s touch left you.

You opened your eyes to see that it was nowhere to be seen.

“My, my,” a voice said from behind you. You jerked forward in surprise, spinning around to see a tall, winged imp casually leaning against the booth. He definitely hadn’t been in the building a few minutes ago, you noted.

The imp leaned forward. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You flushed, glancing around to see if you could catch a glimpse of Alastor’s shadow. But it was as if it had never been beside you in the first place. Which would explain why the imp had decided to approach you at all. Nobody would have dared spoken to you if they knew that you were here with an Overlord.

You opened your mouth to tell him as much before you caught yourself, clamping your mouth shut. No matter how well Alastor’s conversation went with Mimzy, it was likely that he never would have danced with you anyway. There were too many eyes and ears here for him to let his guard down.

“You here alone?” the imp asked, trying his luck once more.

You fixed a smile on your face. If this was your only chance to dance, you were sure as Hell going to take it.

You stood, extending your hand in greeting. “Would you like to dance?”

The imp’s flirtatious smile changed to one of intrigue. “Straight to the point. I like it.”

You wiggled your fingers. “Are we going to dance, or what?”

The imp grinned, taking your hand and leading you on to the dance floor.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for when you and Alastor had come to Mimzy’s club, but you figured that it would at least be a decent substitute for something that you would never be able to have.

You felt your smile slipping as the pair of you began to move to the music.

You hated moments like these, when you realized that no matter what you did or how you felt, you would never be able to show your feelings for Alastor in public. It wasn’t just the fact that he disliked physical touch, which you had never faulted him for. It was the fact that as one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords, he felt the overwhelming need to keep up an appearance. One that did not, unfortunately, include you.

A gentle touch snapped you back to reality. “You alright?” the imp asked.

No, you weren’t. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from dancing.

You nodded, taking the imp’s hand in yours as you began to move to the music once again. “I’m fine.” You smirked. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”

~~~

If you were to later ask anyone at Mimzy’s speakeasy what had happened that night, you would probably receive a whole mix of stories.

Some would say that the Radio Demon had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his antlers growing and his bones cracking as he laid waste to the bar, presumably for fun or out of an unjust anger.

Others would say that he had come to seek some sort of revenge on a winged imp that had been spotted dancing before he suddenly disappeared, not to be seen again.

One specific witness, who shall remain nameless, would say that she had been speaking to an old friend about a business opportunity that he had foolishly taken no interest in. As she was speaking, a shadow had entered the room, whispering in its owner's ear. Her old friend had walked away from her, re-entering her bar, where he was met with the view of an imp dancing with the very woman that he had brought here in the first place.

The witness hadn’t even had time to blink before her friend had taken on his true demon form, batting people aside as if they were only flies before promptly picking up the imp dancing with the woman and melting into the shadows with him.

When her friend returned, he refused to say what he had done with the poor imp, though the witness had no trouble making a few assumptions. He had walked over to the women, gently taken her hand, and gave the witness a clipped farewell before vanishing with the women into the shadows.

It was a brutal display, even for the Radio Demon. If the witness had to guess, she would assume that perhaps the woman had something to do with the whole debacle.

Not that she would ever say so to anyone else, of course. She knew better.

You, however, had no trouble saying straight to Alastor’s face what you believed had happened.

“We were dancing, Al. It was harmless. If I’d needed your help, you would have known.”

“You would never have summoned me if he was threatening you, my dear.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. The two of you had been going back and forth like this ever since he had so graciously brought you back to the hotel from Mimzy’s bar.

You lifted your head and took a breath before continuing. “If he was threatening me, we probably wouldn’t have been just dancing.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, his shadow rearing up and scowling in disgust.

You whirled around and pointed at the shadow. “And you. You went and told him that something bad was happening, didn’t you? You are a liar and a rat, my friend.”

At your words, the shadow suddenly shrank down in size and hid behind its owner, almost as if trying to avoid your accusatory glare.

Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t break eye contact. “He only meant to protect you, my dear, the way he was instructed to.”

“What did you think I would need protecting from, exactly? I can’t exactly die again, can I?”

“There are things far worse than a second death, my dear,” Alastor said with false sweetness.

He was right, you knew. You had almost been subjected to such a thing after your death, when you had sold your soul to the Vees. You still weren’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Alastor himself had found out about you and somehow saved you from a life of imprisonment and torture.

Not everyone was as lucky as you were.

But that wasn’t why you were upset.

As soon as Alastor had saved you from the Vees, you had been determined to help him even a fraction of the way that he had helped you. You owed him so much more than that, you knew, but it was the only thing that you could give. And so, from that moment forward, you had tried your very best to become a solid and stable presence for Alastor, unmoving in your trust in him and, hopefully, eventually something like a friend.

But tonight, you had done the exact opposite. To see the Radio Demon defend you was to know that he felt things like affection, or even something more than indifference. That wouldn’t do for his reputation at all, you knew, and you hated yourself for being the cause of it.

You sighed in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest in defense. “I know that,” you said, holding your position and glaring daggers at the Overlord. “But I also know that you risked a lot today by protecting me. I’m not worth losing your power over-”

You gasped as Alastor appeared directly in front of you, glaring intensely. He didn’t lift a finger, but you swore you could feel the heat of his gaze.

“I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear.”

“Never,” you promised, searching his gaze.

The Overlord stepped back, his stretched out smile immediately concealing his true feelings. “Wonderful,” he said. “Then we both understand that my power and status will forever remain.”

You nodded once before finally breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at the floor.

You could feel the anger seeping out of you slowly, replaced by embarrassment. Of course Alastor would never give up his power for you. Even if someone had truly seen the incident, it was unlikely that anyone would ever be able to use it to their advantage. You were talking about the Radio Demon himself, after all.

“You’re right,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I made a foolish assumption.” You smiled to yourself. “I seem to be full of those today. I’m sorry.”

You were met with silence.

But before you could look up, you suddenly felt the cool touch of a shadow. It rested its hands against your cheeks, tilting your head up to make eye contact. It moved its thumbs in slow circles, leaning down until your foreheads were touching. It didn’t move any closer than that, but you knew that this was more than anyone else had ever received.

It was lovely.

But oh, how you wished it were really him.

The shadow stepped back, returning to its place beside its owner.

Alastor himself acted as though he hadn’t noticed the interaction at all, instead looking around your room as if seeing it for the first time.

“I do plan to maintain my powers, my dear,” Alastor repeated.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, he pushed forward. “Although,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t mind losing a few souls to keep what is most certainly mine.”

He looked towards you then, his gaze hard, as if daring you to argue.

And you should have. You should have told him that you weren’t worth losing souls for. You should have told him that you only wanted to help him, never hinder him.

You should have done lots of things.

What you did do, however, was smile and duck your head to hide your rising blush.

You looked back up and extended your hand wordlessly.

Alastor looked down at it before glancing back up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question as his shadow looked on eagerly from behind him.

Your smile only widened. “I believe, good sir, that you owe me a dance.”

The shadow nearly leapt with excitement, rushing forward and taking your hand.

You laughed at its enthusiasm before Alastor stepped forward and waved his hand, whisking the shadow away and taking its place.

He placed his hand under yours, bringing your hand up to place a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles before releasing you and straightening. Slowly, he brought his claws to the base of your throat before gently dragging them back up until he reached your chin. He tilted your face up further to meet his gaze before dropping his hand down to yours once more.

With his other hand, he waved his staff, summoning a slow dance tune that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and looked up curiously. “Didn’t you used to dance to songs that were a bit more lively?”

Alastor smiled gently down at you before summoning his shadow and surrendering his staff to it. “I did indeed, mon chere. But we aren’t exactly alive now, are we?”

You smiled back in agreement. “No, I suppose we’re not.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his hand on your waist. He lowered his head down until your foreheads were touching and began swaying, taking you with him on his slow trek around your bedroom floor.

You couldn’t have asked for anything more.

~~~

If you asked anyone at the hotel what had happened in your room that night, you would receive a few different stories.

Angel Dust would have told you that the Radio Demon had suckered a poor woman into going out with him that night, and you were most likely getting it on.

Charlie would have told you that she hadn’t seen either Alastor or the hotel’s newest resident all evening, though she doubted that the two of you had gone off somewhere together. Right?

Husk would have told you that he felt sorry for the woman who had gotten caught in the Radio Demon’s line of sight. You were such a sweet thing, and you deserved so much better.

You would have simply smiled and shrugged, giving nothing away.

Nobody would have dared ask the Radio Demon, of course.

But if anyone had bothered to ask the shadows, they would have received a rather lovely story about two sinners who had found their peace, only for a moment, dancing in each other’s arms that night.

An Overlord and a sinner.

A woman and a man.

Two damned souls, finding home at last.

A/N 2: I didn’t get to proofread, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! If you read the first fic (or even if you haven’t), I’m thinking of making another part where it’s platonic Angel Dust x reader and he finally gets to give her a makeover. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Also, I want to write more Alastor x reader (maybe a continuation of sorts, maybe not) so let me know if you guys want to be tagged in those!

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx-blog @maybememoriesx

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