Radio Edit | An Alastor x Reader Lemon Series

Drinking With a Professional

Four bottles into our bet and the odds were looking like they were in my favor. Vision slightly unfocused, I grinned sardonically at the fantastically smashed demon across from me. Alastor looked like he would vomit at any moment.

"Ready to fold?" I asked in a slurred voice as I poured the next round. Alastor turned slightly green, watching the liquid slosh into the glasses.

"How the hell can you drink so much?" He said, taking his glass.

"My depressed, slightly manic ass copes with fantastic amounts of alcohol." I smirked, downing the liquor in one go. Alastor stared at me, the grin wiped off his face for once. 

"What? Scared to drink with a professional?" I taunted, the liquor drowning any hint of fear I had left in me, "Is this too much for you? Should I ask the waitress if they have any Bud Light? I'm sure they have that shitty excuse for a beer in Hell." Alastor's unfocused gaze would have been terrifying if I hadn't already drank enough to kill a horse. 

"Do I not scare you?" He slurred darkly. 

"You scare the shit out of me," I said truthfully, "But I've accepted that I'll die for good in this depressing afterlife. So do your worst." Alastor opened his mouth to reply, paused, then leaned over to puke in the potted plant next to our table. 

Realizing my triumph, I shakily got to my feet, throwing several bills on the table.

 "Here's something for the tab." I said in what was hopefully a smooth tone, "Don't fucking come near me or my station again." Then turning on my heel, I unsteadily made my way out the door and into the wet streets of Hell.