Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hector's eyes glazed over you're form, lust filling his gaze as his breath caught painfully in his lungs. Would you notice Him? Would you care? Either way, his mind was too cloudy to think, a sensation came from his lower region as he watched hungrily over your body. He wanted to touch you; he needed to touch you. His breath growing hotter and hotter, his hand glided down to his belt, slowly unbuckling it-

CLANK

You hit a broom against the vent, you decided to take a break from the glasses, but your house was heating up and you knew who to blame..

"Hector, it's hot in here, tone it down a bit, whatever you're doing!" you complained as you glare up at the vent like you can see him. You were wearing your normal glasses, oh how he loved how they looked on you. But you didn't know, he would never tell you.. Hector moved away from his writing to look at you. Your glare killed his writing spirit and made him feel horrible. He felt like he had hurt you, like everything bad in the world was now his fault, you were his world, and if his writing had made you upset, then it was his duty to remove it from his premises. he crawled back to the attic and hid his journal with a sigh.

"I'll promise to better my love," he promised himself, as he crawled back into his little hideaway he calmed the tempter to make you more comfortable, he watched you walk around, cook, clean, even just fold clothes, and Landry was hypnotizing to him. Everything you did was beautiful, and he would do anything to let you know that. Every bad thing you felt, he would whip away with a carefully pieced together poem he would carefully slip it onto your dresser. every worry, every moment of self-hatred he would remove, even if it put himself at risk. He needed to make sure you knew just how perfect you were in his undeserving eyes.

By midnight, you were looking around your kitchen for something to eat when you heard something scurrying behind you. You turned around to see a rat, great, just your luck. As you watched it scurry away, you grabbed your dateviators from your pocket, slipped them on, and headed to your office. You headed down the ladder in your water heater room and awoke Vaughn.

"What do ya want?" the rat-themed man spoke, eyeing you up and down

"i got a rat problem, go fix it" you said, following up on his question. Vaughn seemed extremely excited and quickly left to do his job. You sighed, getting out of the scrawl space, then your office, and while walking past the thermostat, you notice a quick chill. You turn to the thermostat to turn it down before Hector's voice appeared behind you.

"My love, i can handle that myself, you busy yourself with unnecessary work," Hector spoke hurriedly but you waved a hand.

"i have hands that work, Hector." Without another word, you changed the thermostat to your desired temperature. Hector's voice spiked as he disappeared into the vents. it was strange, very strange.

'Hector?" you call out

"Hecotorr," you call out again. No response again. you decided to sigh and walk off, but Hector.. Hector was flushed, the thermostat forcefully turned his temp dow,n which did wonders to him in ways he wished to not admit.

"Oh my love.." Hector muttered to himself, adjusting his pants, his eyes a glow of pure love, adoration, and lust.

"How I wish you would push my buttons.. how i wish you would pull my wires.. touch me in ways only i can dream of a scenario where i would be deserving.. oh my dear, please allow me to love you"

Chapter Text

Hector sat up in the dimly lit attic, surrounded by stacks of notebooks filled with his overflowing self-insert fanfictions and stories that had spilled forth from his imagination over the years. The musty scent of old paper wafted through the air as he flipped through the pages, reminiscing about the characters and plots he had crafted. Just as he was tucking away the last notebook, a sudden thump echoed from downstairs, disrupting his thoughts.

Curiosity piqued his interest as Hector slowly pushed the attic door open, bracing himself for what he might find. He expected to see the bar area bustling with activity, but the sight of no one left him puzzled. He furrowed his brow in confusion, pulling back into the attic for a moment to gather his thoughts. As he glanced around, he noticed Parker, a fellow resident, enthusiastically setting up his collection of board games, clearly about to head downstairs.

“Parker? What’s going on?” Hector asked, his voice filled with curiosity. Parker looked at him with a momentary blank stare, then his expression shifted to understanding.

“Oh, right, the others are throwing a party. The human is out of the house for a bit,” Parker explained, excitement clear in his tone. He grabbed his games and made his way toward the stairs. Hector’s stomach sank at the mention of a party. A flood of worries consumed him. What if they turned you're beautiful house into a mess? What if they broke something valuable? What if they stumbled upon something personal you wanted to keep hidden? The thought of a party without your permission angered him deeply. It was your house, after all.

Determined to assess the situation firsthand, Hector hurried into the vents, crawling his way toward the living room to spy on the gathering. As he peeked through the vent, the scene before him was chaotic yet vibrant. Ben-Hwa was deep in conversation with Betty, their laughter rising above the din. Eddie lay sprawled on the floor, clearly drunk, while the toilet and the shower were having a sing-off. The noise and chaos were overwhelming; it made Hector’s heart race with irritation. He had never attended a party, but seeing everyone having fun only fueled his annoyance. They hadn’t asked for his approval, and they were trashing the house in the process.

Dirk and Harper were bickering about the noise levels, while the Hanks jumped off the furniture, shouting “Go long!” as they threw pillows across the room. Dorian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing an expression that screamed, "I hate this."

Unable to contain his frustration, Hector gripped the edges of the vent and focused on a chilling sensation that began to swirl through the space. A sudden gust of cold air coursed through the living room, catching everyone's attention. The water lady, whose name Hector couldn't recall, let out a shriek as the temperature dropped. Annoyed glances were exchanged, and the laughter began to fade.

Parker, mid-game of Uno, turned to Hector, his expression shifting from surprise to annoyance. “What the hell, man!” he yelled, hurrying over to the vent. Hector's eyes widened in a mix of surprise and defiance.

“Look at this place! You’re all trashing their house! What do you think will happen when the human come back to a wreck? No offense, Cam…” Hector shot a glance at Cam, who was busy munching on a half-eaten apple, shrugging in indifference.

He turned back to the rest of the group, noticing Rod and Curt in a corner, engaged in gossip, while the remaining party-goers looked increasingly bummed out and cold from his outburst.

Gradually, the atmosphere shifted as complaints about the party began to sweep through the crowd. One by one, they retreated to their rooms, dissatisfied. Parker stomped back up to the attic, his shoulders tense with frustration. Hector knew he had ruined Parker's fun by enforcing order. They had finally been spending quality time with the other objects, and now that was gone. It felt unkind; he thought about the state of the attic as he sat down among the disarray.

After a short while, everyone had fallen asleep—everyone except Hector, who was wide awake. Taking a deep breath, he crawled out of the vents and down the stairs, determined to restore some kind of cleanliness to the living room before you returned home from your long day. He worked methodically, picking up stray cups and clearing away discarded snacks, ensuring that the space looked presentable. Once he was satisfied with his efforts, he made his way back upstairs, settling into the vents once more, awaiting your arrival home.