alastor x wife!reader who acts like the hotel resident’s ma? 😭😭 i feel like that’d be so cute while al is like “yeah i’m not your fuckin dad”
HELLOOO this was a very cute idea thank you!!!!!!
Wait, We're Adopted?
Alastor x Wife!Reader
TW: none. not proofread
masterlist
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As much as Charlie was the owner of the hotel and the literal Princess of Hell, it was plain to see most of the residents of the hotel looked towards you for guidance.
Maybe it was your soothing presence, maybe it was your uncommon-for-Hell level headed approach to problems, or perhaps it was simply due to the fact you had been at the hotel since its conception alongside Alastor.
It wasn’t inherently obvious for the first few weeks of being seen in public with Alastor, but you were his wife in life (and, now, death). He did make a remark about it during his first visit to the hotel; an over the top expression of gratitude for his “darling wife” and “the woman who he wouldn’t be who he is without,” which… you weren’t sure whether or not to take it as an actual compliment. His overall mannerisms at the time, though, lead most to believe he was just messing around for the sake of it.
It wasn’t until a particularly drink-filled Angel Dust, in an afternoon shortly after Charlie finished trying one of her group bonding activities, that the spider rested his head on the bar top on crossed upper arms and pointed one free hand at Alastor and you who were still lounging on the nearby couch — not incredibly close, but still close enough to make someone raise an eyebrow at the Radio Demon.
“So, like, what’s up with that,” he asked with a light slur, cheek smooshed against his arms. One hand drug a lazy finger around the rim of a half empty whiskey glass. “I mean, who would actually sit that close to that creep?”
You frowned lightly at the description, but quickly shifted into a soft smile. Before you could say anything, though, you could almost physically feel the glee in Alastor’s expression as he let out a dramatic “ahh,” in response to the question.
“Well, I would hope my own wife could tolerate being even a foot away from me,” He said with a chuckle, tossing a leg up over another and leaning back into the couch. He laid an arm across the back of the couch, letting his hand graze the back of your shoulder.
His comment, along with the uncharacteristically affectionate gesture, caused the interest of a few other residents in the vicinity to turn towards the two of you. Angel Dust’s mouth opened in speechless surprise.
“Wife?” Charlie asked with a tilt of her head. She had been busy picking up the pieces of a board game. Angel Dust nodded in support of her question.
“Yes, don’t you remember? I did tell you all this on my first day, unless… you thought I was lying? Do demons get Alzheimer's? Was nobody listening to me..? How rude…” Alastor mused over his ideas with a parodied hand played on his chin, eyes cast to the ceiling in mock thought.
“Like anybody would believe that shit,” Husk muttered from his spot behind the bar. He, of course, did know, as he knew a lot of the more classified details of Alastor’s life that he was bound by contract — and by threat — to never speak about.
Alastor shrugged with a flick of an ear and a “hm,” but otherwise ignored Husk’s comment.
“Damn, toots,” Angel’s eyes turned towards you. He picked himself up off of the bar top and stretched his upper body. “How d’ya put up with that shit? No wonder you can tolerate being so nice to us.”
You waved a playful hand at him. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Plus, he was rather sweeter in life, otherwise I would totally agree with you.”
“Oh, how you wound me,” Alastor sighed.
“You might as well be our mom with how much shit you put up with around here,” Angel remarked. A handful of other sinners in the room nodded in agreement, Charlie especially was giddy to support the idea. A warm smile broke across your face at the comment, and you clasped your hands together and held them to your chest and let an “aw” escape your lips. You had always wanted children, but never could have any. You would always work or volunteer at local kindergartens, daycares, and take up babysitting gigs in an effort to fill that gap in your life, so the idea that the residents in the hotel that you grew to love so much would see you as a motherly figure… Oh, you could cry so easily right now if you weren’t careful.
Charlie playfully clapped her hands together. She always witnessed first hand how much you helped in the hotel, sometimes even with just your presence, which seemed to almost force calm upon the otherwise rowdy members of her hotel. You had helped her so often, too, especially with the more “girly” side of advice that she was sometimes too embarrassed to go to her dad for. With her own mother gone, she frankly did see you as a mother figure.
“Oh my god! Yes,” She said, then gasped dramatically as if just realizing something. “And, since you’re married, that would make Alastor, like, the hotel dad!” (Lucifer cover your ears)
“Hah!” Alastor laughed, a loud staccato sound, head briefly tossed back. “No, thank you.”
Charlie frowned, posture slumping and bottom lip pushed slightly out.
“I’m actually on his side this time,” Angel muttered, eyes turning towards his drink. He picked it up for another sip.
“Yes, rather unfortunately I think you will have to play as a single mother here,” Alastor’s red gaze shifted to you. He was being playful, but you could tell by the softness at the edges of his mouth that there was a certain compassion. He always knew how much you craved a child in your life, and he sometimes felt guilt for never providing that for you, so he held himself back from fully ruining the moment with his zealous teasing.
“Fine,” You said with an unserious huff and a cross of your arms. “You’re no help anyway, I can tell these kids are far too scared to ever dream of asking you for guidance.”
“I’m not really a role model, anyway,” Alastor said with a widening grin. “I mean, unless you want to raise a couple more murderers.”
“No! Nope!” Charlie quickly cut in. “No murderers here, please! We have enough of those already.”
You fondly watched the group of sinners in the room as the conversation slowly shifted into a more general, laid back assortment of chatter, leaning back on the couch and against the arm that Alastor still hadn’t moved. Instead of pulling away, which you almost expected, you felt his clawed hand turn and lightly wrap around your shoulder in a gentle squeeze before relaxing again.
Be a mom? To these guys? You pondered to yourself as you heard a loud, random “FUCK” from a conversation.
