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

Picking Names

A few nights later, Alastor and I had opted to stay in, order some pizza, and attempt to read some baby books I had bought earlier that day. I was laying with my head in his lap, trying to pick a name out of book that was like a dictionary of every name ever. 

"What about Colin if it's a boy?" I asked, glancing up at him. 

Alastor peered around his own book, and chuckled, "We killed a Colin. Remember, my dear?" Oh yeah, I guess we had....

"Well," I thumbed through a couple pages, "What about Silver if it's a girl?"

"Up next, welcome to the stage...Silver!" Alastor announced then looked pointedly at me.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, sitting up.

"That's how they announce strippers to the stage." He said, then added hurriedly when I glared at him, "At least, that's what I assume." I rolled my eyes and laid back down. 

"What about Ester?" He mused, closing his book. 

"Yes, Alastor, let's make sure our child is a seventy five year old bingo enthusiast." I snorted. 

Alastor opened his mouth for a retort, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. He answered it, listened for a moment, told whoever it was that the problem would be resolved, then hung up.

"Mission time?" I asked.

"Two thieving mules." He replied, standing up and helping me to my feet. 

"What has the world come to when a dealer can't trust their mule?" I mused, then went to grab my gun. I wonder if our unborn child could hear me put bullets in scumbags' brains? Wait no...don't think about that.

Fifteen minutes later, we were standing in front of an apartment door, knocked and waited for the mules to answer. We heard footsteps, then a tall, heavy set demon with blonde hair and green eyes answered the door.

"Hel-" Alastor said, but was cut off by a door slamming back in his face. 

"Well that was rude." He huffed, then kicked in the door. I could hear the blonde demon yelling at his partner to get his gun. Shit! I drew mine, and pressed myself against the wall just in time. A bullet whizzed by, lodging itself in the frame of the door. A green haired demon appeared, brandishing a handgun. I took aimed and fired, catching him in the neck. The demon dropped like a sack of potatoes, hitting the floor with a thud. 

Alastor stepped over his body, muttering about wanting to teach the blonde demon a thing or two about manners. I followed closely behind. We made our way through the apartment, trying to ignore the stench of week old ramen noodles and frat boy socks. 

All of a sudden, there was a gunshot and Alastor snarled in pain. A bullet wound was seeping blood from his shoulder. 

"Alastor," I cried out, rushing to him. I pressed a hand to the wound, applying pressure. The demon snickered and inched closer, cocking the gun for another shot. I glared up at the jackass. And then it hit me.

That demon was the bastard who killed me.