Alastor x Reader Oneshots

Vanilla Bean, Pretty Please

Art Credit: AcceCakes

NOTE: Hi again!

I still won't be updating this frequently, but I'll update when I have the time and when I have the urge, hehe. I can't stay away from this strawberry man apparently.

Short and sweet. :)

(cafe au but demons)

The warmth in hell was never something to be described as pleasant.

But over at the Happy Cafe, things could be said otherwise.

Whether it was the daily whiff of freshly ground coffee beans, the sound of barista's and their gentle chatter as they worked, or even the soft music always playing in the background, when (Y/N) entered there, she always felt warmth that reminded her of a time when she was alive.

One of those sources of warmth was Alastor, the co-owner of the cafe, a devilishly charming demon, who always made an effort to pay attention to each customer exiting and entering his store.

There was James, a young demon who recently became an inhabitant of hell. It was clear to anyone, no less an observant man like Alastor, to know this particular young demon was struggling with his new revelations and surroundings. Unlike James, Alastor knew of the sins that had sent him to hell, accepted them, and has lived his afterlife understanding his predicaments.

A young couple of imps came in from time to time too, Millie and Moxie, to get coffee on their way to work, or sometimes running in for their fellow coworkers and boss. They were sweet, and Millie always smiled and was always sure to thank the workers who made their drinks and food.

Alastor enjoyed that.

Along with the regulars, there of course were passing imps and demons, coming in as they would on their daily tasks as they would have in the living world. Even the staff and guests from the Happy Hotel nearby would drop in.

Though, out of all the guests coming in and out of the cafe, (Y/N) most definitely had to be Alastor's favorite.

While she would have her occasional surprise order, the demoness usually always stayed loyal to her most favorite order: a tall vanilla bean frap with extra whip.

What a sweet tooth.

It was about what was considered the middle of the day on Earth when (Y/N) walked into the store.

The small bell jingled against the door as it moved, making Alastor's ears perk up. His almost glowing red eyes seemed to brighten at first at the sight of his favorite patron, he had nearly called out a greeting, until he caught wind of the frown overtaking the woman's soft features.

The sight was so shocking to him, as (Y/N) never came into the store upset, and he knew, that he almost forgot he was taking care of a customer right in front of him. His own smile, wide and proud, felt weaker as he watched her find a seat and sit. He noticed that she wasn't even sitting at her favorite spot, the one right against the window facing the city.

She merely set her bag down on the table, plopped herself into her chair and continued to stare off into space.

What was wrong?

(Y/N) hated the strain she felt in the middle of her forehead, but she couldn't help it as it felt like her face could only stay in its permanently troubled expression.

Earth as of late seemed to be getting a taste of how hell is, with so much disaster, disease, and heartbreak, she ached for her still-living family and friends who were going through it all. Despite knowing that no one else would sympathize with her and her qualms, as a sinner, she couldn't stop her lifeless heart from still feeling for those she had left behind.

She hadn't even realized she had been tearing up, until she felt the touch of someone's finger on the corner of her eye to wipe the wetness away. Her (e/c) refocused as she looked up blinking, seeing Alastor, her favorite barista standing over her. His ever-present smile was the softest she'd ever seen on him as he gently pulled his hand away. In his other hand he held a tray with a single drink, and without a word he set it down before her.

"May I take a seat?" he asked her as he glanced at the empty seat across the small circle table she sat at, the radio static in his voice at a very low hum, almost sounding like a vibration in the back of his throat. It was comforting.

"Please." (Y/N) replied feebly as she finished wiping away the remnants of tears from her face. Already she could feel a warmth coursing through her from merely seeing and speaking to him. She was also a bit embarrassed for having been caught off guard and crying in front of a man like Alastor, who she was reluctant to admit had been the source of her growing affections as of late.

When Alastor took a seat, the woman finally glanced down to fully analyze the drink he had gotten her. It was her favorite drink, a vanilla bean with extra whip. She nearly laughed out loud at how comical it looked with the ridiculous amount of whip cream Alastor had put on top this time around, as it was piled on so high it was spilling over the cup and onto the tray.

The woman let out a soft snort.

"I believe you may have overdone it with the whip cream, Alastor." she commented cooly, pulling the tray closer to her as the man in front of her chuckled softly. By then he had untied the apron around his waist and set it on the side of him, relaxing into his seat with his elbows resting on the table.

"I thought it would make you smile...and I think it worked." he replied, a charming smile gracing his lips that made her stomach flutter.

She couldn't find a reply, still smiling, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times after he fell silent.

When she finally made a noise, she found Alastor speaking again.

"Don't even say a word about payment by the way. This is on me, as well as a sweet from the bakery. I'm not taking no for an answer on this I'm afraid, my dear." he explained, fighting another chuckle as the woman in front of him lightly slapped the table with a shocked look on her face.

"Alastor!" she exclaimed, very cutely, he would be sure to add.

"It's necessary." he insisted, and in his eyes (Y/N) could see concern in them. It was a soft glint that she knew was only for her, and it made her feel special, and it made her wonder more of the mysterious barista who was much more than what met the eye and what tabloids said about him.

"Now please if you're inclined, tell me what's troubling you, (Y/N). I hate seeing you unhappy."

When his own hand reached out to grasp hers on the table, she knew in her damned soul that Alastor was willingly volunteering to be her confidant. His hand was surprisingly soft and strong at the same time, if she hadn't known of his reputation before, she never guessed that these hands could do so much damage.

But here and now, in a nearly empty cafe, there were no cheats, no deals, no lies, and no hurt.

The big, bad Radio Demon wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be, and he made one hell of a vanilla bean frappuccino.

Extra whip, of course.