La Vie en Rouge || Alastor x Reader ONESHOTS

Regret.

Cheater!Alastor x Reader
(Warnings: Angst, Violence, Non-consensual touching)
Suggested by @Lost_in__
(I sorta went off the tracks again, oops 😬)

***

You held the pregnancy test up to your gaze, a few small tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Two red lines were embedded upon the white surface within the test, a soft sigh leaving you. What luck. You thought he wore a condom... Maybe not. Or maybe it tore. Either way, you were going to need to tell your husband somehow. It had been decades since the both of you had gotten married and you were really happy with him! But you weren't exactly sure if he wanted a child or not...

Inhaling deeply, you pulled on your coat, put on some shoes, and grabbed your phone before slipping out of the house and locking it behind you. Alastor was at his radio station for work, but you were sure he wouldn't mind if you dropped by to give him the news. It was almost the end of the day, anyway. Walking quick and with purpose, numerous demons hissed and whistled in your direction, but you ignored them and just hurried to your location. The station really wasn't far, but with all eyes in Hell seeming to be on you, it felt farther than ever.

When the building's flashy, red lights finally came into view, you picked up your pace until you reached the front doors, pushing the glass barriers open to enter the lobby. The secretary glanced at you a second, giving you a quick nod as you strode past her. You often came around to drop things off or just to hang with some of the employees, so you were fairly known in the establishment.

The elevator seemed to go as slow as an imp who lost its legs, your foot tapping the ground impatiently as you waited for the lift's arrival. After a century of waiting, it finally reached ground floor and opened its doors to you, your body not wasting another moment to sitting around, doing nothing. Once you were in the metal box, you pressed on the uppermost button and waited. More waiting. God, why couldn't you just teleport like Alastor? You leaned against the back wall of the elevator, rubbing your eyes. How long did this need to take? It had never seemed to be so time consuming before. When the cheerful ding of the elevator sounded, you immediately jolted from where you felt as if you were dozing off, your legs carrying you out of the elevator and onto the office floors.

"Heya, (Y/n)," one of the employees called, to which you just waved to. If you weren't mistaken, his office should be just around this corner... "Hah! You're still married to that slut?" an unfamiliar voice cackled, causing you to freeze before you could turn the corner, keeping you concealed from the stranger. A hazy sigh sounded. Alastor. "Unfortunately," his gravelly voice answered, your heart immediately wrenching in your chest. What? "I have plans with the Princess to head out for the night. I discovered that she recently had a small mishap with her girlfriend," the stag continued, causing your fists to involuntarily clench. That's right, isn't it? He works a second job down at that hotel.

"Ooh! The Princess of Hell, eh? What is keeping you with that lower class, anyway?" the first one you had heard speaking said, followed by some slurping. They were probably drinking coffee. "Eh, she's good in bed, what can I say?" Alastor responded, a hole seeming to be driven into your chest. He didn't mean that. Did he? "Bah! There are plenty of sex workers just for that! Drop her, Al!" "Perhaps." A silence fell over the room, your heart thrumming so hard that you thought it would give your location away. "Oh, I have to go on air," Alastor soon spoke, breaking the anvil-heavy silence. "I'll see you after work." And then footsteps sounded in your direction, your fight or flight instinct kicking in and initiating you to instantly take off to the stairwell.

What the actual fuck? you thought grimly as you left the building, but not before telling the secretary to not mention your presence to anybody. For some reason, you felt no need to cry. As if you physically couldn't. Dragging yourself back into your shared home — well, now his home, you began packing your bags. You didn't want to burden a man who didn't love you. Once a duffel bag with all your important belongings were packed, you hurriedly wrote down a note and taped the pregnancy test to the back of the paper. Afterwards, you printed the divorce papers, signed your name, and set the note next to it on the kitchen table. That should be enough.