• 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • Alastor x Reader

𝐓𝐰𝐨.

The icy chill of winter's new claws drew themselves along your spine; your thin, tattered coat doing little to nothing to keep you warm. People wandered by you and gave you strange looks, as if it were unusual to see such an unkempt woman walking down the streets. To be fair, everyone here did look like they made a decent pay, which only boosted your hopes further.

"Alright, (Y/n), you got this. Let's go get yourself a job!"

You did not, in fact, get a job. Instead, you had been rejected multiple times, whether it was because you seemed unqualified or just because they weren't in need of employees made no difference to you. You still had zero income and were jobless. And currently, you were sat on the sidewalk, munching on a small sandwich you had managed to buy down at a cozy café for a cheap price — which was a little too busy to stay inside.

Maybe you could try again tomorrow.

"Goodness, a lady such as yourself shouldn't be out here in the cold," a familiar voice trilled, making your head lift from your half-eaten meal. Embarrassment was the only thing you felt when you looked at him, his neck protected with a scarf while he wore a warm coat. You must really look pathetic, huh?

"O-oh! Hey, Alastor!" You fought back a shiver as a gust of wind blew across your nose, goosebumps rising on your skin beneath your worn jacket. "I didn't expect to be crossing you. If I did, I would have dressed a little nicer," you quietly admitted jokingly, hugging yourself tight while you took another bite of your sandwich. The man seeming a bit displeased by your state, though his smile stood. "Nevermind that," the radio host waved your words away as if they had been annoying flies.

"We need to get you somewhere warm," he grinned, holding his gloved hand to you, just like he had the day before. "I have a show in about an hour or so, you could warm up at my place while I go on air." You stopped halfway through taking a mouthful of your sandwich, looking up at the man with a bit of shock. He worked from home?

"I don't think that would be in your best interest, sir, it just wouldn't-"
"Alastor," he stopped you. "You call me Alastor, not 'sir'. That's what the ones below me should be referring to me as. Not you." Stunned by his words, you hesitantly set your hand in his waiting one and allowed him to help you to your feet, his hands moving to begin unbuttoning his coat before he draped it over your shoulders.

"Absolutely not," you growled, stepping away from him and whipping around, the brunette's head tilted in the slightest while he held the coat open. However inviting it may seem, you needed to refuse. You just met this man and you didn't want to seem needy. "I'll be fine. Please keep your warmth; getting sick would mean a poor voice for your show," you stated matter-of-factly, to which Alastor's amber eyes just lit up.

"So you tuned in, my dear!" He crowed happily, pulling his coat back on and beginning to walk down the sidewalk with you as you ate the remains of your sandwich. "Did you enjoy it? Oh, and that radio! Everything works well? If not, I can have it replaced! Or maybe if you'd like a different model..."

He talks a lot, you thought to yourself as you strode down the cold streets, breath beginning to cloud at your mouth as the sun made its journey behind the horizon.

"No, no! That's alright, Alastor! It's perfect," you cut him off before he could continue, his smile growing. "I'm glad to hear it, darling! I just wanted you to receive a warm welcome," he laughed, tossing his hands into the air. You had noticed he also enjoyed using his hands to express his speech, much like yourself, though he was much more exuberant about it. While you made simple wrist movements, he really moved his arms all over the place; it gave off a strange charm which made you laugh.

"Hm? Something funny?" He asked, turning to look at you with a raised brow. Shaking your head, you kept silent as the both of you continued to walk down the busy roads, young women (maybe just a little older than yourself) always running up to Alastor and asking him to sign something. One lady asked for her vinyl record to be signed, another asked for an image of him, another wanted his signature on her dress, and one had even asked for him to sign her breasts, leaving you feeling a little uncomfortable.