Alastor x Reader Imagines❤ ✓[COMPLETED]

Imagine 10: The Art Of Dance✨

pairing: Y/N x Alastor

*Summary: Y/N is performing a show at Mimzy's club, unknowingly, Y/N's show captures the eyes of the Radio Demon*

*Your POV*

You exhale a nervous breath, your eyes curiously peeking out the cracked doorway which you hide behind, watching the tall, slender female demon sing an enchanting song, to woo the men and women in the crowd.

Unlike most clubs in Hell, this club showed a little...more respect, towards female authority. After all, the owner of this club never wanted men performing for her, she wanted the best of the best demon women to perform, to captivate the owner's audience so that they would continue to come back...

The demon owner of this establishment was a short, stubby demoness, whose whitish blond hair was always up in a 1920s style bun under a hat that was decorated with flowers.

She wore a quite short dress, revealing the pale skin on her thighs, the fishnet stockings she wears only bringing out the pale skin of hers.
She was....obsessed with beauty. Wanting to appear beautiful, wanting her girls to look beautiful.

Though working for such a woman like her...there's a risk.
She...can't stand when she believes there to be someone prettier then her. Jealousy getting the best of her at all times. Yes...if she sensed someone more beautiful then her...

She would make damn sure that the beautiful woman's life was ruined completely.

A cold shudder runs up your spine, reminiscing the moments where you shyly stood in the owner's office, as her eyes stared in a judging manner, as she circled around you, taking in every angle of yours, looking for flaws.

Or...looking for something that is better then her.

You were shocked when the said owner, Mimzy her name is, agreed that you could perform at her club. Before she had died, Mimzy was a theater star. Beautiful, perfect, and charming.

The definition of perfection.
And down in Hell, she will only ever hire anyone who she sees is a woman of style and class, like her. Someone who will sing for the men and modestly dance for them.

You...hadn't really thought yourself as a woman of class, but hearing someone like Mimzy say that to you, you took it with a little pride.

When the demoness's singing is over and she walks off stage, she passes by you, a look of disgruntle and slight jealousy shaping her eyebrows into a frown.

You try your best to ignore the stare, inhaling a nervous breath, knowing that in less then five minutes, you will be on that stage, the light on you, and all eyes watching you. Watching, waiting to see if you are worthy of applause, or booing.

Another wave of nervousness ties your stomach into knots, forcing you to sit on your chair, raising your hands to your head.
All eyes will be on you soon...

And one pair of eyes...will stare unlike anyone else there.
One pair, of red glowing eyes, will fill with a desire, an obsessive infatuation...for you.

***

The tall, slender, grinning man sits at the bar, his posture straight as a pencil and the smile never faltering from his face. He's dressed in a nice, but slightly worn, red and black suit, with a red bow attached to his collarbone.