"SUCKING AT SEDUCTION"
for the foot...flirting...thing i envisioned that scene where that one girl rubs her foot against Will's ankle in stranger things lmao.
•••
You return to the hotel, looking around the parlor as you enter. Your eyes dart from side to side, taking note of your surroundings. Husker is tending the bar, Angel Dust is sleeping on the sofa, Charlie and Vaggie are out on a date night, according to the colorful note that's been left on the front door, and you can hear the pitter-patter of Niffty's rapid movements upstairs. That leaves only one mystery to be uncovered: where the hell is Alastor? You take a seat at the bar, crossing one leg over the other and putting one hand on the counter, meeting Husker's eyes. "A martini, if you'd be so kind. Gin, not vodka." You say, raising an eyebrow.
Husker grunts in acknowledgement, turning his back to you as he sifts through the vast array of glasses on the shelves. Glasses clink together as he does so, and you sigh under your breath. After a few painful minutes of Husker bumping things together and struggling to find the bottles he needed, he fills the shapely glass with ice, tossing a lemon peel garnish on top of that and filling the remaining space with gin and vermouth. With an irritated grumble, he slides it across the counter to you, and you bring the glass to your lips. "You ever fuckin' hear of the word please?"
"Doesn't ring a bell." You retort without missing a beat, locking eyes with him as you sip your martini, never averting your gaze. Husker is the first to break the prolonged eye contact, turning his head away with a scoff. You smirk and set the now empty glass down on the counter. "I like your bow-tie, you're like a sexier Charlie Chaplin."
Husker's eye twitches in annoyance and you lean further over the countertop, biting your lip playfully. He takes your empty glass, chucking the lonesome olive into the trash and wiping it out, avoiding eye contact as he does. Your gaze snaps to the front door as Alastor comes striding in, twirling his staff in his left hand. He hums a fun little tune to himself, but his eye-bags are notable deeper than they were when you left this morning.
"Rough day in the office?" You ask impishly, your grin widening further.
The radio demon laughs animatedly, cocking his head from side to side, punctuating each hearty chuckle. All the while, he strides toward you. "That's one way of putting it, my flirtatious friend! So goes the life of an Overlord, yes indeed-y!"
You look him up and down, hesitating for a moment before brushing your boot-clad foot against his ankle, pushing the cuff of his pants up slightly in the process. You don't dare take your eyes off his face, analyzing his body language and facial reaction. "You know, I'm very good at relieving tension." Your smirk, narrowing your eyes.
"Aha! Sorry to disappoint, but your sexual advances don't work on me, my friend!" Alastor shuts you down, taking a step back and letting your foot fall back to the floor. His grin stiffens, narrowing his eyes as well, glaring you down despite his charming smile.
Your tongue brushes against the inside of your cheek, a nervous tick of yours, before your lips turn upward again. "Right. It's a habit of mine, I hope you can forgive me."
The two of you stare each other down, the tension palpable. Alas, Alastor perks back up, cutting the staring contest early. "Of course! We've all got our habits! Water under the bridge, old pal!" He waves his hand nonchalantly and turns on his heel, taking off in a different direction.
You clear your throat and push your hair out of your face, returning your attention to Husker. It's best not to let your surprise and frustration at Alastor's rejection show. So, that fucking smile pulls back at your lips. "Something stronger, won't you?"
He sighs loudly, bending down and digging through the various bottles of alcohol under the bar before standing back upright. Husker pours some vodka into a small shot glass and slides it to you. You graciously accept it, tossing the shot back and swallowing it. "One hell of a rejection you just got." Husker comments, and you slide the empty shot glass back toward him.
"Not much of a rejection." You argue, watching him refill your glass. He passes it back to you and you down it in one swift gulp, slamming it back on the counter and passing it to him again. "Rejection implies that I wanted something. I didn't."
Husker raises a suspicious brow, refilling your glass and pushing it toward you. "Really? 'Cause it seemed like you wanted a cheap fuck."
You take the shot glass and gulp down its contents. You slam it back onto the counter, and Husker picks it up. "If I wanted a cheap fuck," You begin, leaning forward slightly, watching him refill your glass once again, the liquid splashing against and over the sides of the cup. Suddenly, your smile drops. "I'd have one in my bed already."
He scoffs and slides your glass back. You take it and toss it down your throat, finally feeling it burn your throat. You sigh and push the glass to the side. "Then what do you call that shit you just pulled?"
"I'd call it an offer." You shrug, leaning further over the counter. "Besides, I wasn't lying. I really am good at relieving tension."
"Hah. Yeah, I bet." Husker rolls his eyes, grabbing your empty shot glass and wiping it out with a rag. "You and Angel are two fuckin' sides of the same coin, aren't ya?"
Your lips twitch into a slight frown, furrowing your brows. "I'd consider myself to be the quarter to his penny, but, sure. Though, if you want, I could always show you firsthand why he pales in comparison." You smirk again, putting a hand under his chin.
"Hard fucking pass." Husker growls, his face flushing the slightest tint of red as he catches your wrist and pushes it away from him. Your smile falters slightly and your gaze latches into the grip he has on your wrist. "Like I said. Same coin. I see right through your fake bullshit, just like I see through his."
You laugh, tilting your head. "He is pretty fake isn't he?" You pull your hand away from him, standing from the barstool you've been seated on. "Perceptive, are we? Pray tell, what else have you gathered about me so far?"
"I know that you're a cocky motherfucker that hasn't been told "no" a day in their life." He sneers, and your grin grows wider. "That you're just as much of a bullshit version of yourself as Legs over there is."
"Fascinating!" You gasp sarcastically, putting your hands on your cheeks and smiling at him. "You're so observant...."
"Don't patronize me. I ain't gonna sleep with you, so knock that shit off."
Husker turns his back to you, done with the conversation. Once he's faced away from you, you roll your eyes and head upstairs.
———
You snort the line of powder off your dresser through a rolled up dollar bill.
'One fucking job.'
You gasp and huff, shaking your head to recover before diving back in again, sucking in the remainders.
'I have one fucking job.'
With an impatient, shaky breath, you fumble with the clear bag that's been waiting for you on your dresser as well. You tear it open, dumping the contents onto the wooden surface.
'It's fine! Don't forget where the fuck you come from, Y/N. Some weak ass rejection doesn't mean it's over. Sex isn't all your good for, you've got other skills. They underestimate you.'
You suck up the powder through the makeshift funnel, laughing giddily as it cakes the inside of your nostril. This is so much better than small bits at a time.
'So, he doesn't wanna have sex with me. I'll find another way. Befriend him. Threaten him. I'll figure it out, just like I always do.'
You grunt and collapse your upper body onto the dresser, letting your face fall into the comfort of your arms. You giggle uncontrollably to yourself. You're feeling fantastic.
'The bartender probably hasn't fucked anyone in, like, a century, he doesn't know a good lay when he sees one. Radio Demon is probably, what, asexual or something. That's the term, right? I'm so fucked up right now.'
You're snapped out of your hazy thoughts by a loud, deafening crash coming from outside. You feel your heart, or the equivalent of which, pounding in your chest as you run into the hallway, finding that the end wall has been completely destroyed, as well as it's first floor counterpart. You walk out to the end, leaning against the remnants of the wall and watching the chaos that's unfolding outside.
A giant war machine, driven by a ditzy serpent demon that's spouting nonsense. You grin, amused by the way he angrily points at Alastor, who's on the bottom floor, outside the front doors, facing the intruder.
"Face my wrath, Alastor! For it is I, Sir Pentious—" The serpent demon declares, hesitating as his eyes involuntarily flicker up to you, standing so casually on the second floor, staring down at him with a lazy smirk and lidded eyes. "Errr..."
You nod behind you, gesturing toward the plethora of bedrooms that wait there. Sir Pentious gulps and his face flushes an embarrassing crimson. What better way to gain trust than to single-handedly stop an attacker of the hotel?
"What was that about your wrath, pathetic serpent creature?" Alastor asks teasingly, his grin widening as Sir Pentious's body shrinks back. Alastor's gaze flickers behind him, trailing up to the exposed second floor. He hums curiously, narrowing his eyes as he watches you smile enticingly at the attacker.
"There has been a change of plansss!" Sir Pentious announces abruptly, pulling confused expressions from the audience he's gained from the other hotel residents. His eyes linger on you, watching you wave your hand, encouraging him to join you. "I choose sex! I-I mean peace!"
———
You sigh softly, slowly blinking your eyes open. You're met with Sir Pentious's sleeping face, less than an inch away from yours. You sit up, tossing your head back and rubbing your forehead before gathering the courage to climb out of bed. The shift in the mattress makes Sir Pentious's eyes flutter open, squinting as he adjusts to the red hue being cast in through the windows.
"Ah!" Sir Pentious gasps, sitting upright and tugging the blankets up to cover his bare chest. His eyes latch onto your every movement, watching you move rapidly through the room as you gather your things and pull on your clothes. "Good morning, uhm, Y/N! That isss correct, yesss?"
You look over your shoulder at him as you tug on your bottoms, fumbling with your belt buckle. "That's the one. Sleep well?"
"Yesss! I had the most wonderful time lassst night!" He nods, clearing his throat nervously. "I... I hope it was satisfactory for you as well...!"
It wasn't. Not really. He was clumsy and inexperienced, never knew where to put his hands, nor where to touch you. The night mostly, if not entirely, consisted of him laying back and whimpering while you did all the work. Not unusual or unexpected, but not necessarily pleasurable for you, yourself. Then again, is it ever? "It was," You nod at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
"Well, per... perhapsss we could go get breakfassst!"
"As tempting as it is, I have work." You explain, analyzing his face and body. His eyes, big, wide and hopeful, paired with his anxious little smile. There's an unfamiliar feeling in your gut, a sort of sinking, but it's gone as soon as it arrived. "Sorry." You add on, averting your gaze.
It's always so awkward when a hookup doesn't quite recognize that they were a hookup. When they foolishly think that they actually want to further get to know you.
They don't know what they want.
"O-oh, that'sss alright..."
———
"It's obviously a slight setback." You explain, leaning against the wall as Vox and Valentino keep their eyes on you. "The Radio Demon has zero interest in my advances, so I'll have to find an in another way. Which is fine, I'll handle it, it's just unexpected. That method usually works." You look at your fingernails, checking them out carefully. You could stand to clip them.
"That fucker is a big old-timey mystery." Vox sneers, shoving his hands in his pockets and glaring down at you. "Which is why I didn't want one of Val's whores to even bother."
"Degradation turns me on. Tread carefully." You retort without missing a beat, smirking teasingly. Vox growls in frustration.
"My point is..." He continues, grabbing at his head to calm himself down. "Alastor isn't one to be seduced. That's what I tried to tell you! You can't just waltz in and expect to fuck your way to victory with that asshole!"
"Yeah? That's what you tried to tell me?" You quirk an eyebrow, leaning forward and looking up at him. "Because you gave in to my offer damn near immediately, and all you told me was to report back as often as possible. Maybe next time, start with the fact that he's asexual so that I don't fucking embarrass myself." You smile condescendingly, patting his arm. "Some friendly advice."
Vox's eye twitches and his screen glitches out, ripping his arm away from you. "Who the FUCK—"
"Would you relax?" You interrupt, putting a finger to his virtual lips. "I have a plan, so do you want the info on Alastor or not? Unless you'd rather let him continuously embarrass you in front of all of Pentagram City or strike a deal with Lucifer's daughter, in which case, be my guest."
Valentino smirks, gazing at you through hooded eyes. "Mmm, you're so sexy when you talk all intimidating."
Vox huffs and crosses his arms. "Fine. You'd better deliver for how big you talk."
"My talents go beyond railing horny sinners into mattresses, you know." You smile proudly, patting Vox's flatscreen version of a cheek. "When I have a goal, I don't fuck it up."
Vox plasters a fake grin onto his lips, patting your cheek back, hoping to give back some of the condescension you've been sending his way. "Good! Because if you do—"
"I won't." You snap.