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meetmyothersouls · 1 year

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I’m your biggest fan & totally obsessed with the Halloween theme! Can I request 🔪Hotel of Horrors

You're so so kind! Thank you so much, never thought I'd have a fan :) This one's for you!

Hotel of Horrors

Warnings: creepy hotel, mentions of ghosts, curses and death, knives and lots of threatening

Timothee x first person reader

I'm pissed.

I slam my hand against the bell on a counter that no one sits behind. Not only is my room a mess, but it smells like a dead raccoons ass. I wish I was kidding, but it's pretty fucking bad.

"Hello?" I slam my palm once more on the bell, breaking it in the process. "Does anyone work in this shit hole?"

"I do," a shaky voice says as a body shoots up from behind the counter. He knocks over a vase behind him and barely saves it from shattering on the ground. He couldn't save the dying roses or the water from spilling out. "I do," he repeats.

His whole entrance startles me, and I step back a few inches. Did he not hear me torturing the bell sitting on his counter? And what the hell was he doing on the floor? A slew of other questions come to mind, but the timid man behind the counter starts talking again. He's tall, skinny and deathly pale. He reminds me a lot of a Tim Burton Claymation character. Dark circles surround his eyes rimmed in red and he licks his lips nervously. "S-so sorry, ma'am. I'm Tim Chalamet, a-a-and I run this establishment." His fist pounds on the counter and the action startles him even though he's the one who did it. "Wha-what can I do for you?"

"Well, you can start by chilling the hell out. You need a xanny or something? You're making me anxious as fuck, dude." Tim swallows hard as I speak. He looks around the lobby like a scared, tortured puppy, waiting to be attacked. By what? I'm not sure but he's gotta cut that shit out. "And second, have you or anyone else been in room 794? It's actually offensive."

"7-794?" Tim's shaky hands move to the keyboard of an old computer. He types what I assume to be my room number as his eyes bounce across the screen. "Oh," he says, his face draining of what color remained in it.

"Oh? What do you mean 'oh'?"

"N-nothing. Nothing. I'll gladly reimburse you and give you a new room for free. No one should be in room 394."

"And why is that?" I ask. He's peaked my curiosity.

Tim's hand shoots up and runs nervously through his hair, tousling it. He grabs a handful off it, but lets it go before he pulls any of it out. This dude is going through it. "Uhhh, died. Someone died in there. Multiple someone's actually."

"Multiple!?"

"Y-yes 34 to be exact. Rooms cursed. I'm so sorry."

I'm not sure if he's apologizing because of the mishap of me getting the room or the fact that there's a very grand possibility that I am now cursed myself.

Fuck.

"You're fuckin' kidding."

"No. No, sadly not." Tim shoots back down and pops back up with a new room key. 795. I can't help but roll my eyes. Like room 795 is any less cursed than its lovely neighbor 794. "Here's you're new k-key. Enjo-oy your stay." He drops the key on the counter and turns, making his way to a set of swinging doors, I assume lead to a break room of some sort. I've still got to get my stuff out of my old room, but at this point I'm too spooked to go by myself, but I'm writing a new book and need several of the things out of that room. Fuck, this place. I don't want to go alone. In my head I'm whining and stomping like a four year old. Tim has already disappeared behind the double swinging doors and I hear a TV flip on. I've got to convince Mr. Pantophobia to help me get my shit from the cursed room. I don't actually need help and I would usually never ask a man to help me lug my things around, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I pull my shirt down a little bit, exposing some cleavage.

"Tim? Hellooooo?" I knock on the wooden counter and he comes back out. Thank god. "Oh good you're still here. Okay, so...I'm probably going to need some help gathering my things." I see his pupils dilate as he assumes what I'm about to ask him. "Think you can help a girl out?"

His stutter gets worse as he reaches underneath the counter. He brings out a ring of keys and shakes vigorously. "S-s-s-s-sure. Yeah. Yeah sure." I know he doesn't want to, and he didn't even put up a fight when I asked. He didn't even look at my tits. We walk silently, to the elevator, and my curiosity gets the best of me.

"Sooo, you got any inside details on any of the 34 murders?"

Tim doesn't move his head but his eyes travel to the side until he's looking at me in what would seem like a painful manner.

"No."

Liar.

"Oh come on! You've own this place! You've got to know something about at least one of them!" I egg him on as he we arrive to the elevator. Tim uses a long bony finger to press the up arrow on the vintage elevator. It's definitely been upgraded since the hotel originally opened in the 50's, but they've kept the same old timey look to both the inside and the outside of the hotel. It would be really nice if the place wasn't so fucking creepy. Two sets of doors open and we step inside. They close slowly and Tim presses his finger against a round button with a number seven printed on it and we lurch upward.

"Th-this hotel has been in my family since it opened. We aren't sure wh-why it's plagued with misfortune, but we try not to dwell on it too much."

"Why not? History is history. It happened and it happened here, dude. You can't change that."

I'm actually shocked that this place doesn't get more business. I've not seen more than five people since I arrived here and that includes Tim. Usually haunted or cursed hotels bring in tons of business, especially when there's a possibility of catching a ghost on camera.

Tim is silent for a moment after my response, and it's probably because I'm fucking right and he doesn't want to admit it. But when he opens his mouth to speak, I'm not prepared for what comes out of his mouth or the chills that pepper my body.

"They don't like when we talk about what happened."

"Th-they who?" Great. Now I'm stuttering. The elevator dings and we come to a stop. Tim steps off and I trail behind him. He's giving me the creeps now and it doesn't help that the lights flicker as we walk through the hall of floor seven. "Tim, what does that even mean? 'They don't like when we talk about what happened.'"

We're in front of room 794 in no time, and I suddenly have the urge to just take my shit and leave all together. Tim's freaking me out and so is this creepy fucking hotel. I feel like there are eyes on me even though no one is here. Tim brings the ring of keys up to the knob and I notice he's less jittery, less nervous and for some reason that makes me more nervous. The fuck is going on? The key Tim separates from the rest is old, rusty and much longer than the others. It goes in with ease and twists only once until the door opens.

Suddenly this room is a whole hell of a lot more unwelcoming knowing it's cursed. Tim holds his hand out into the room as if to say after you and follows it up with a jerk of his head into the darkness. Why didn't I leave the lights on before I came downstairs to complain. I suddenly feel stupid that I requested his help to move my shit one door over.

"You know what? I think I got it from here. Thanks...for the escort."

"Nonsense," Tim replies, kicking the door shut behind him. "I'd be happy to help." He's no longer stuttering and his movements look confident and lethal.

I'm scared.

I'm shaking as I haphazardly throw my clothes back into my suitcase, not caring whether or not they're dirty or clean. I want to get out of this room and more importantly, away from Tim. Why'd he have to shut the door? The room seems stuffy now, and I'm sweating even though all I'm doing is throwing my shit back into my suitcase. I add my laptop and pocket my cell phone before I zip up my suitcase.

"Okay. Done. Let's go."

Tim has a half smirk on his face and one foot against the door behind him. He looks absolutely dangerous and I really, really miss it when he was afraid of his own shadow. "You want to know the real reason this room is cursed?" He asks, stutter long gone.

"N-no, I just want to get to my new room." I muster up the courage to walk toward him. He's skinny as fuck, I probably have more muscle than he does and can easily shove him aside, but when I come within a few inches of him, he stands up straight and towers over me.

Was he this tall before?

He's got a hand behind his back and when he pulls it out from behind him he reveals a knife. I mentally kick myself in the ass, knowing that's what he went behind those double doors for before we came up here. Damn it. He points the tip of the blade at me and I begin to walk backwards.

"I'll ask again, y/n. Do you want to know the real reason this room is cursed." He grits out the last word and pushes the blade into my stomach ever so slightly. I gasp at the contact, but play along. I have to play along if I want to get out of this.

"Y-yes. Yes I do. Tell me."

Tim pulls the knife away, but only so that the tip is no longer piercing the flesh of my abdomen. He cracks his neck and the sound of bones popping is overwhelming in this quiet room.

"Guess."

A tear slips from my left eye as my back hits the wall. No where else to go.

"I don't like guessing games, Tim. Just tell me."

"TOO FUCKING BAD," he screams, slicing into my jeans, making a clean cut into my thigh. It's deep enough to inflict pain but not deep enough to cause me to bleed out. He's got experience. "I do. Now, take a fucking guess or I'll push this knife so deep into your stomach, your organs will come with it on the way out."

A sob escapes my mouth and it takes me a minute to catch my breath.

I'm going to fucking die in here.

"You're taking to long, y/n." Tim raises his knife, the blade gleams in what little light shines from the heavily curtained window. "And I don't like to be kept waiting." He moves quickly, plunging it toward my stomach. I'm lucky enough to catch his wrist, and from sheer adrenaline alone, I'm able to hold him back and give him an answer.

"BECAUSE," I scream. "Because your family is batshit fucking crazy and you are the ones that kill here."

He smirks at me and I curse myself for even thinking that he looks the least bit attractive in this moment.

"Very good, y/n," Tim praises. "You know, I feel bad about this." The confusion must be evident on my face. He yanks his hand from my grip and uses the knife to scrape away the hair that's fallen into my face. "Don't be dumb. I mean the killing you part."

"Let me go then, you asshole." I'd love to knee him in the dick right now, but I don't. I want to leave this with as few stab wounds as possible.

"No. No, can't do that. Not when you know the family secret."

"Oh, geez. I won't tell anyone," I lie. He lets me go and I'm spilling my fucking guts.

"Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before. You're very pretty, y/n, but lying makes even the prettiest faces ugly."

I roll my eyes. This is taking too long. "Just kill me or let me go, you fucking psycho."

Tim taps the knife on his chin, contemplatively. "I don't think I'll do either."

My heart sinks as I think of the torture he has planned for me. This has taken a sick turn and I'm feeling more and more hopeless the longer this goes on. Why did I have to go downstairs and complain. Why? "Then what the fuck are you going to do?"

"Marry me."

"What?" He doesn't like the tone in my voice and by the look on his face, he's feeling a bit stabby. "I-I'm sorry. I'm confused."

"You seem to think you have an option in this. You marry me and you join me in carrying on my family business. I put a few kids in you so they take over. Or I kill you. Make a choice and do it quick. I'm missing my show."

A million thoughts cross my mind. The main one being the fact that he thinks I'll let him close enough to stick his dick in me and get me pregnant. The next one being that either way, I never get to leave this hotel of horrors.

"You're taking to LONG, y/n."

Tim raises his knife again and I have no choice but to join him.

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp

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