A Match Made In Hell | An Alastor x Reader Lemon Series

What Brings You To Hell?

My first memory of Hell was of the red sky. It looked like someone had spilled a bucket of blood across the sky and not bothered to clean it up. Blood...something triggered in my memory.

I looked at my hands. No blood. I checked my head, no bullet hole. But I did feel my ears lay flat against my head. Wait...ears? I jolted to my feet. Looking around frantically, I found a shop window still intact in this shit hole of a town where I had woken up. 

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. I looked the same, with (H/L) (H/C) hair and features...but now my eyes were blood red and I had wolf-like black ears. Shaking, I took a step back. Noooo...no...no...I couldn't be a demon. I killed those men out of self defense. I didn't deserve to be here. 

"I never even kicked a puppy." I growled out in frustration, throwing my hands in the air. 

"Hey darlin', looking for a date?" A sinister voice hissed. Some thug looking demon sidled up to me, looking me over like a piece of meat.

"Fuck off." I snapped at him, not in the mood to be confused with a hooker.  In reply, he grabbed my arm.

"Let me rephrase that." He said, grinning like a psychotic asshole, "How much to fuck that pretty mouth of yours?" 

I snapped, using my free to grab him by the throat. I felt my nails elongate on their own, piercing my victim's skin. He gurgled, blood sputtering between his lips. The red liquid seeped down his chin and onto his shirt and my arm. I squeezed harder, enjoying the feeling. My eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling deep in my chest. I kept squeezing until he became a dead weight. My nails retracted and I stood over my victim. 

"I warned you." I whispered, staring down at him with no remorse. We were in Hell after all.

"Well I haven't been that entertained in a very long time." A voice from the alleyway said. A tall, red demon in a suit and carrying what appeared to be a old time microphone in one hand stepped from the shadows. 

I shot him a demonic grin in warning, "Don't try it, shit lord." I held up my bloody hand for maximum effect. This only made the newcomer smile a truly psychotic grin that stretched from ear to ear. 

"A woman after my own heart." He said, "But I have no intention of making the same mistake your...ahem...friend there did."

Then he held out a hand for me to shake, "Alastor, at your service, my dear." I shook his hand with my bloody one. He didn't seem to mind. If anything, his smile got wider. 

"(Y/N), pleased to meet you." I replied. 

"May I buy you a drink?" My new friend asked, nodding across the street at what looked like a speak easy. I nodded, a stiff drink did sound good right now. 

Alastor took my arm, still unabashed about the blood covering me, and led me into the bar. He led me over to an empty table in a dark corner. We took our seats across from each other and a tired looking waitress came to take our order.

"A glass of your top shelf wine." Alastor said, barely looking at the woman.

"Whiskey, neat." I said, doing the same. 

Once she was gone, Alastor turned his attention back to me, "So what brings you to Hell?" 

I leaned back in my chair, "How much time you got?"

Alastor leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table, "For someone as interesting as you, all eternity."