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

Breakfast

The next day, instead of going to some sleazy apartment to shake down and possibly murder some scumbag, Alastor and I were headed to a snug little bistro a couple of blocks down from my apartment. The smell of pancakes hit us head on as soon as we opened the door, and my mouth began to water. Pancakes were definitely an upgrade from blowing someone's brains out. 

"Blueberry pancakes, side of bacon, and black coffee please." I ordered, stomach rumbling. 

"Same for me." Alastor said, giving a quick smile at the waitress before turning to me.

"So, (Y/N)," He crossed both arms and leaned against the table, "Tell me about yourself. All I seem to know about you is that you are a little too trigger happy and hate being mistaken for a hooker." 

I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment before replying, "Well, I like Disturbed, Paramore, and A Day to Remember. I'm a sucker for puppies and kittens. Just don't assume I'm a prostitute and I'm a very easy person to get along with. What more do you want to know?"

Alastor chuckled, "Fair enough. I won't make that mistake then. I've seen what you can do with a gun." I smiled, leave it to Alastor to turn homicide into a cute joke. 

At that moment, the waitress brought our coffee and let us know our food would come out soon. I sipped the hot, life giving liquid, enjoying it's flavor. 

"And what about yourself," I asked, setting my coffee down on the table, "All I know is that you run a murder for hire business and have a lot of shady friends." 

Alastor grinned his psychotic smile at me, "Are you sure you want to know?" On second thought, no I did not. But the waitress saved my ass by bringing over some amazing smelling blueberry pancakes and bacon. I stuffed my face with the delicious, buttery, sweet pancakes instead of admitting I was a little afraid of knowing this mysterious hot man more than I already did. He killed people and had an amazing body. What more did I need to know?

Three pancakes and a side of bacon later, we were sipping our coffee and making up stories about the other customers. One we imagined was a journalist who blackmailed people for extra cash on the side. Another we imagined was getting coffee for his purebred pug, Mr. Pringles. This went on for about an hour. And to be completely honest, it was the most fun I had since coming to Hell.