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

Secrets

I had managed to keep my secret from Alastor for two whole days, faking food poisoning from some Chinese we had ordered. However, we had a mission come in one after noon, when my food poisoning bit was dangerously close to coming to a close. This time we were after some bastard with major gambling debt. I wondered just how many more of these missions I would be able do.

"How are you feeling?" Alastor asked while we were in the car on the way to the apartment complex where our unsuspecting victim was hiding. 

"A little better." I lied, staring absently out the window, "I guess I'm just still a little tired." Alastor raised an eyebrow, not quite believing me. Feeling his gaze on me, I slumped down in my seat, wondering long I could keep this secret from him. 

We pulled up to what was a surprisingly nice apartment complex. I let Alastor take the lead, trailing behind. After going up several flights of stairs, we came to a pristine white door with the number thirty four in swirling black letters painted on it. 

Alastor knocked on the door, but before he had a chance to say anything, a voice called out, "It's open!" We looked at each other, surprised, before opening the unlocked door and going in. A pale demon with lanky black hair was lounging on the couch, playing video games. 

"Just put the food on the counter," He said, not looking away from his game, "I already paid with the credit card." Did this douche think we were some delivery service? Just when I was thinking how to kill him quickly so I wouldn't have to look at his stupid face, he snapped his fingers at us. Ask anyone who is or ever was a waiter or waitress how this feels. Only instead of have to smile at a rude customer, I had a license to do whatever the hell I wanted. 

My hormonal ass walked over in front of his TV and unplugged his gaming console. The douche yelled some very sexist names at me, throwing his controller on the ground. I ignored his slurs and snapped my fingers in his face.

"How does that feel?" I spat at him, "Huh? How does that feel? I'm not a fucking dog, you asinine tool!" I punched him in the face. The little wimp fell over, instantly crying.

"Well, Tyler, meet my partner." Alastor said, looking at me like I had absolutely lost it. To be fair, I kinda had. I grabbed the little asshole by the collar of his shirt and drug him over to a set of double glass doors. I flung them open and stepped out onto the balcony, where we could hear the sounds of traffic below. 

"Where is the money?" I hissed, pointedly glancing at Tyler, the edge of the balcony, and back. 

"Un-under the b-b-bed." Tyler blubbered, "Pl-please don't k-kill me."

I rolled my eyes and looked at Alastor, "Kill this sad sack of shit, I'm going to get the money." With that, I threw the pathetic excuse for a demon back into the apartment and stalked past him. I went into the messy bedroom and pulled out a shoe box. Inside was stacks and stacks of hundred dollar bills. As I was counting the money, I heard the bang of a gun. Alastor must have taken care of Tyler. 

I carried the box out of the room, where Alastor was tucking the gun back into his suit jacket. I handed him the box and went into the kitchen, stepping over Tyler's body in the process. The corpse didn't even phase me. This was old hat by now.

Opening the fridge, I grabbed an expensive looking beer and started to open it, but stopped. I couldn't drink a beer, or any sort of alcohol for the next nine months. Sighing in frustration, I put the beer back in the fridge and slammed the door shut. 

"(Y/N)," Alastor put his hand on my shoulder, "My dear, please tell me what is wrong." I hung my head. There was no way I could keep this a secret from him. He was bound to catch on at some point. Besides, I couldn't keep faking food poisoning forever. 

"Alastor," I turned and looked up into his concerned red gaze, "I'm pregnant."