Phan One Shots

The Bar in Hell

My name is Philip Michael Lester and I am a bartender at the one and only bar in hell. Yes, I said hell. I live and work in hell alongside many other demons and "lucky" humans, who somehow managed to get themselves jobs instead of being tortured. I am one of those lucky few and managed to bag myself a job as a bartender, as they were lacking a decent mixologist. Weirdly, I love my job in hell; I get to meet all types of demons and hear about their days and what they got up to on earth. There are four types of demons that I have so far discovered: the torture demons who all have their own specialities, the tormentors who create havoc on earth, the death bringing demons who transport those who die to hell and then there are the deceptors.

The deceptors are my favourite so far due to their cheeky personalities and their ability to transform their appearance in the blink of an eye. I do have one favourite demon though and his name is Daniel Howell, but he hates being called by his full name, as it's not demon like.

"Hey there, Philip!" Dan chirps, as he and his friends enter the bar making their way up to me.

"Hey, Dan," I reply with joy in my tone. I seriously need to chill when he's around otherwise he's going to realise I like him. "You know I hate being called Philip."

"I know, that's why I do it," he chuckles. "I'll have a Phil's speciality." He winks and takes a seat in front of me, away from his friends.

Dan never sits with his friends anymore, just sits at the bar eyeing me suspiciously. I hate how he does that; it's like he can see right through me. I also hate how he changes himself to look exactly what my type would be: tall, brown floppy hair, handsome and a cheeky smirk. Before he walks into the bar, his hair is a blonde quiff, his eyes are blue and his smirk is a kind, deceiving smile.

"Who did you mess with today then?" I ask, whilst shaking his drink together.

Dan rolled his eyes and sighed, "This girl called Rebecca."

"You don't seem too happy. Did it not go well?" I frown slightly, placing his drink down in front of him and lean on the bar with my head on my hand.

"Nah it went too well, we're moving in together next week," he groans and practically downs the entire glass, not flinching once.

I raise my brows and begin to whisk up another, "What's wrong with that? Surely that'll make it easier."

"Yeah but she's not my type, so it's hard to act lovey dovey," he says, eyeing me carefully.

"What is your type then?" I ask with a crooked brow.

He smirks, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Well considering who you are, you're correct, but try me," I smile.

"Well they have to be tall, have dark hair, blue eyes to die for and a sweet nature, oh and a guy," he bites his lip and hides his face behind his glass.

I stop shaking his next drink for a moment, thinking over who he just described in my head and slowly start to re-shake his drink before pouring it into a new glass. My eyes drift to his brown orbs and my heart melts, but I can't let him do this to me. He's a deceptor! This is what he does for a living.

"Well it'll be over soon, right?" I smile comfortingly.

"I don't know, Hugo said I have to keep her busy whilst he designs the plan for her death," he sighs and takes his drink. "I wish I could just work here, with you."

I laugh, "Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious," he frowns.

"And I'm Harry Potter," I laugh again, turning around to clean some dishes.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he practically whines.

I spin on my heels and reply, "Because you're a deceptor and I'm a human. This is what you do. Deceive humans."

"I wouldn't ever deceive you," he huffs and looks off to the side.

I roll my eyes and sigh, "How am I meant to trust someone who changes their appearance into my exact type as soon as they step through the door!"

"I'm your type?" he gapes.

"What?"

He laughs, "No fucking way! So we're each others type."

"W-woah, hold your horses," I stutter. "Don't mess with me. I know you change yourself purposely."

"You think I know what your type is? How would I know that?" he frowns.

"I don't know," I snap. "I thought demons could tell, well especially deceptors, that's how they deceive perfectly."

"Yeah by reading their mind and thoughts, but I've never read yours. Well I can't because there's a spell on the bar," he says, taking a calm sip from his green drink.

"So this is the real you?" I ask, slightly confused.

"Yep!" he grins, holding his arms out, as though presenting himself to me. "I'd ask if you like what you see, but I already know you do." He winks.

I roll my eyes and lean back on the counter opposite him, "Why don't you sit with your friends anymore?"

"I prefer talking to you," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"We barely talk," I reply.

"You always ask how my day has been. No one else does," he mutters.

I frown, "Not even your parents?"

"Do you think the King of Hell has time to ask me how my day went?" he crooks an eyebrow and laughs.

I gulp and my eyes widen, "T-the King of H-Hell?"

"Yeah," he says. "Didn't you know?"

"No!" I gape. 'Why didn't you say? I feel so foolish."

"Why?" he frowns.

"Because I would treat you differently," I reply, whilst cleaning more glasses ferociously. I feel my cheeks redden. How could I have been so stupid? Of course he is the King's son!

"I don't want you to treat me differently though!" he snaps, slamming his glass onto the counter. "Everyone does and you're the only one who doesn't. It's why I like talking to you so much."

I stare down at the glass in my hand, my mind racing with thoughts. Why do you have to fall for the Prince of Hell?

"Say something, Philip," he says, his tone serious now.

"Don't call me Philip, my Prince," I smirk. 

He smiles and bites his lip, "I weirdly like how you say that."

I laugh, "You're so weird."

"Dan!" Hugo yells across the room.

"What?" Dan shouts back.

"Stop talking to the weirdo and come talk to us!"

Dan's fist tenses around his glass and his nostrils flair. He seems to really hate Hugo, his superior.

I stand up off of the counter and smile, "You go, I've got to go and do some, uhm, cleaning out back."

His head snaps up and he frowns, "You don't have to leave because of them."

"I'm not," I lie.

He stands from his seat and sighs, "Well I'll see you around I guess."

"Well you know where to find me," I laugh halfheartedly. "I'm always here. Same place. All the time."

He smiles sadly and salutes me before joining his friends at their table.

Am I really falling for a deceptor? Actually, am I really falling for the Prince of Hell?

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A/N: I feel like there could be a couple parts to this. What do you think?

Thank you so much reading and voting! It means a lot!