#charlie rouse

[newbuddylove]

[hezigler]

Tolerance Break ended just before noon LMT two weeks after it started.

Durban Poison: one standard Dugout bat, moderately packed, lit with Xikar butane in my 60+ year old Zippo lighter case with Zippo gas lighter insert.

Musick: The Thelonious Monk Quartet - MONK'S DREĀM - complete album.

Recorded near the end of 1962, Monk's Dream, his first album on Columbia, was released in March 1963. In February 1964, Monk made the cover of Time magazine. Monk had made it doing his music his way.

[chronivore]

Charlie Rouse , one of London’s last night watchman armed with rattle, tucked beneath his sash, truncheon, cutlass strapped to his waist, and carrying the traditional lantern, standing outside his post on the Brixton Road , London in 1850 .

[jazzandother-blog]

American saxophonist Charlie Rouse in Paris, on the Pont des Arts, 1964, while on tour with Thelonious Monk

ph by Jean-Pierre Leloir

[jazzplusplus]

1964 - Thelonious Monk Quartet - Théâtre de l'Alcazar - Marseille

Thelonious Monk (p), Charlie Rouse (ts), Butch Warren (b), Donald Riley (dr)

[jazzdailyblog]

Ben Riley: The Artistry of Time and Groove

Introduction: We shall explore renowned drummer Ben Riley’s enthralling musical path in this post. Riley’s career is a monument to his talent, adaptability, and steadfast devotion to his craft, from his early beginnings in the jazz scene to his collaborations with legendary performers. Join us as we examine the turning points, obstacles, and victories that have influenced Ben Riley’s impressive…

[sgurumiyaji]

今日のおはジャズ「Yeah !」Charlie Rouse '60

モンクのバンドのテナーで有名なラウズのリーダー作。モンクの一種異様な世界観の中で、ひたすら共通言語で、あたかも宇宙語を地球語に翻訳してる様なプレイをするラウズ。ここでは、普通の日常的なやり取りを聴ける「ホーム感」が有ります。なので、モンクの引き立て役とは違う、ラウズの真の姿をじっくり聴くのに丁度いい！

ゆったりした「ステラ」なんかは、ゴルソンを思い出すのですが、この二人を比較してみるのも面白いと思います。ゴルソンの「何考えてんの⁈」っていう面白くも謎な部分は無く、同じく渋い音でメロディーフェイクをしながら進めて行くアドリブは最高に美しいです。高速テンポではいつも通り一糸乱れぬ迷い皆無のプレイ。いやぁ、本当にこの人、楽器が上手いなぁ。

バンドのメンツも知らない人ばかりだったのですが、派手さは無くとも、堅実でブルージーです。丁度今聴きたいタイプのバンド。なんか、こういうバンドの中で自分のサックスがフィットしてなきゃインチキだよなぁ…なんて思うと、聴いててピリッと身が引き締まります。ピアノのガードナーはまだNYシティカレッジの学生でこれがレコード・デビューだとか。もう、ベテランの貫禄です。

ステレオ盤を買うつもりだったのに送られて来たのがモノラルでちょっと残念でしたが、録音やバランスは良かったです。国内盤。

[onryou-onryou]

Monk and Philly Joe - Nutty- Salle Pleyel, Paris, France - December 15, 1969.

[mickrouse]

Charli XCX is Too Real by Jeff Weiss

British GQ, Summer '24

[foldingfittedsheets]

You wouldn’t blame a crowbar for an act of destruction, you would blame the wielder. For this reason I can’t be held responsible for what happened to my friend Charlie’s bed. I was merely a tool that force was applied through.

It happened like this: Connor, Charlie, and I decided to have a late night movie viewing at Charlie’s house. We watched The Hogfather and Groundhogs day and we stayed up until 4am. Then we were all too tired to drive home and crashed. I got the bed and the boys took the floor.

Four hours later, Charlie’s parents woke up. They learned that Charlie had people over. They. Were. Furious. Because unbeknownst to us it turned out they had swine flu. Charlie should had been quarantining not bringing people to his plague house. They ordered Charlie to kick us out that very moment.

Charlie came to rouse us. I am… not at my best in the morning hours. Four hours of sleep did not leave my disposition gruntled. Charlie began trying to rouse me to pretty much no avail. He pulled the covers off, shook me, tried to take my pillow, but I was a tiny ball of sleepy vicious rage. When he shook me I’m pretty sure I bit him.

I should be clear, I wasn’t really awake. A baseline function was taking place but no real actual thought. I was piloting on pure instinct and the instinct was: need more sleep. Charlie tried everything while Connor watched in bemusement.

Finally Charlie got the idea that if he physically lifted me out of bed I’d go. He managed to get his hands under my arms and start dragging me off the bed.

Two things happened very quickly. My toes wrapped around the top of the railing to his bed frame, and I went limp everywhere else. Charlie staggered and almost dropped me, because holding a floppy corpse body is much harder than a tensed one, a fact I had learned from many roughhousing attacks by my brother.

He swore and then gamely started trying to drag me backward, thinking it would be easy to dislodge my toes from the bed frame. It was not. I’ve mentioned before that my toes are strong, but Charlie was flabbergasted that their grip on the bed was so strong that he couldn’t drag me away.

I was going on pure stubborn instinct. I did not want to leave the bed. Charlie was fully committed that a 90lb gremlin wasn’t going to beat him in a contest of strength with only her toes. So he pulled. And I held on.

Both of us were shocked when there was a tortured shriek of wood and something in the bed frame cracked. It was loud enough that I actually woke up. The rest of my brain surfaced in confusion to join the lizard brain whose only goal had been not to leave the bed.

I released my toes and took my own weight and Charlie and I stared at the bed.

“You ripped the railing off!”

“Well, no, you ripped the railing off, I was just the tool. If you hadn’t been pulling on me-“

“If you had just let go! What is up with your feet?!”

We griped as I readied myself to leave his plague house, joining his parents in being mad that Charlie hadn’t told us they were sick. I drove home to sleep more.

Over the years of our friendship Charlie still maintained that I broke the bed. I disagreed and think I was only the tool by which he broke the bed. Only you can decide who bears the most sin, the dragger or the dragee.

[hazbn-oneshots]

Bathtime Headcanons

Just a few headcanons for sharing a bubble bath with the main characters. Enjoy!

Charlie:

oddly enough Charlie doesn’t partake in full baths as much as she favors showers.

She’s busy dealing with the hotel and along with ruling as the Princess of Hell so she much prefers a quick warm spray.

On the occasion, however, she finds herself tired enough that you might just be able to convince her to indulge with you. 

You make a point of dredging up any kind of bubble bath, bath bomb, lotion, anything you can find to ensure that you can provide the best bubble bath possible.

Music plays softly over a small speaker, but it’s drowned out the hushed whispers of words of love as you meticulously wash and condition her hair.

Conditioning is your favorite step. Charlie didn’t need it often as her hair somehow stayed so silky, so every now and then when you got to run a soft brush through her hair, twisting it gently to pin atop her head.

She tries to wash you in return but you always push her hand away, insisting on pampering her after a hard day.

Usually ends with you drying her off and carrying her to bed when she inevitably passes out.

Vaggie:

Vaggie loves baths but she’s hard pressed to admit it. Nothing feels better on sore muscles than a nice soak, ideally with lavender. She loves lavender.

The two of you had been dating for about 6 months before she even entertained the idea of going to you with such a request. 

She was too embarrassed to ask.

-in the end, how she broaches the subject is by surprising you one night when you return home. A few candles lined the edge of the bathtub that was filled nearly to the brim with bubbles.

”I just thought it would be nice, you’ve been gone all day” And you know better to react calmly should you risk spooking the flustered angel with the scarlet red face.

She’s the one that drags it out in the end. She’d wrap her arms just a little tighter around your waist and mutter about how the water would stay warm for just a little longer.

Vaggie gives sweet towel hugs.

Alastor:

Listen, Alastor takes pride in his hygiene. He takes the utmost care to keep himself and his dress in immaculate condition. 

He’ll invest in facial creams, hair creams, body creams, oils, lotions, you name it and he’s used it. 

But baths? No. Absolutely not.

You’ve only attempted to convince Alastor to take a bath with you and neither occasion ended particularly well. The radio demon wouldn’t speak to you for a week after the first failed attempt and had all but removed himself from your life with the second so you couldn’t say you were in any hurry for a third.

However, the two of you have come to a happy compromise. Whenever you found yourself in the mood to draw a bath you would sometimes find Alastor pulling a chair up next to the tub with a book tucked under his arm. So would begin a lovely tradition between the both of you.

More than once you’ve found yourself dozing to the soft static of the Alastor’s voice, and in response the demon would lightly tap his cane against the edge of the tub to rouse you.

Don’t fall asleep though, three strikes and he’ll leave you in the tub. No he doesn’t.

Husk:

Not. A. Fan. Considering his entire being consists of fur and feathers, Husk can and will do everything within his power to avoid bathing if he can. Look, it’s just not his idea of a fun night to sit down with a hairdryer and attempt to wring himself out as best he can.

Inevitably he’d miss a spot and end up with stale wet cat smell and no one likes that, especially not our resident grump.

He won’t make a fuss if you want to bathe with him though. What he will do is laugh while patting your shoulder. “I’ll wait for ya in the room”

The more comfortable he gets, however, you’ll start to see that eventually Husk begins to find reasons just to ‘wander’ into the bathroom with you. He misses you, you know it, but it’s still sweet to see him making the excuse of looking for his lucky pair of boxers.

”The water’s always warm darlin”

You better get the blow dryer ready, the only way you can convince him is if you’ll deal with it. You don’t mind though, the purrs are worth it

Angel Dust:

You and Angel take turns picking which bath bombs and bubble baths that you’ll throw into whichever potion you’ll be brewing up tonight.

Bathtime with Angel was always a favorite for you, you couldn’t think of anything better than getting to curl up with your cuddle bug in your arms. Although things never really stay that way for long.

It’s hard not to tease while washing each other. A slip of the hand here, just a little rough touch of loofah there, just a sweet little taste of what could be but the restraint comes easy in the relaxed atmosphere. Just in times like these Angel will be patient enough to wait until you can actually make it to the bed. 

Angel won’t let you wash his hair. You don’t know why he’s so particular about it but if you interrupt his routine of products then his entire night is ruined so you choose the peaceful route and leave the man be. That doesn’t mean he won’t wash your hair for you if you ask though, those four hands of his do wonders at massaging the scalp.

Angel will 10/10 let you towel dry him every single time and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t use it as an opportunity to make a show at bending this way and that, making sure to get every inch of him.

He looks like a fluffy mess afterwards but hey, he’s your fluffy mess.

Requests open!!

[gambleofstars]

Luficer HCs for Tall!Reader (gn)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ•̀)* NOTICE: part of this post is NSFW, so minors do not interact.

↳ ❝ [a/n: i just really like this pathetic little man and i wanna take a lil bite outta him :3 anyway this is 100% self-service tbh, i'd love to be ridiculously tall and just twirl pretty boys around in my arms] ¡! ❞

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ No matter your stature, seniority and hierarchy are still a thing, so when Charlie introduces you to his (adorably tiny) dad, you bow your head and call him 'your majesty'

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ But over time, as you become his advisor and close confidant, you take great pleasure in using your height to your advantage; like sneakily peeking over his shoulder to see him doing his little arts-and-crafts projects.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ The one thing you loved doing and Lucifer found embarrassingly hot extremely annoying is lifting him up at random times. Oh he's reaching for something on high shelf? Up he goes on one of your shoulders. He's dragging his feet on an early morning meeting? Your arms are ready for a bridal carry. He's just lounging around? Now he's laying atop of you with his face in your chest.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And you know this man loves physical contact.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (He'll grumble about 'respecting royalty' but he'll wrap his arms around your shoulders and enjoy the warmth of your embrace and that lovely fragrance you always use.)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Mind you, all this is after many years of you both getting closer; so Lucifer trusts you completely. With his daughter's life, even.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ So it's not surprise he enjoys being pampered and worshipped for once especially since his last relationship didn't end well . He enjoys letting you drape his night robe over his shoulders when he wakes up, or fixing his hair as you circle over him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You'll mutter: "How cute" and he will blush like a delicate little maiden. It really is the cutest thing.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ You'd complain about having to crane your neck down all the time, but the sight of Lucifer's eyes looking up at you, all doe and round, make it worth it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And he obviously loves the height difference between the two of you (looking at the old family portrait, he clearly has a type and you'll definitely tease him about it).

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ One of the main reasons he loves your height is the fact that when he does get into that lonely, depressive, dark space in his mind, he can curl up into a ball and be held by your secure embrace.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Next morning, he'll rouse from his sleep, place a kiss on your cheek and ask if you want any coffee. You'll kiss him back and effortlessly lift him up to go to the kitchen together.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (The second best thing is that he's basically eye level with your chest which is a huge bonus.) NSFW. mdni.

NSFW. mdni.

𓆩♡𓆪 You already know this man has a size difference kink. Like, come on just look at him: all the forms you can choose in the world and you choose a pathetic pretty boy?

𓆩♡𓆪 He likes getting thrown around. Manhandling him in bed will get you cute little protesting whines, but he won't retaliate, he knows his tastes are obvious.

𓆩♡𓆪 Lifting him up with his thighs around your waist is a sure way of making him beet red from the tips of his ears, all the way down to his neck. It looks very pretty on his skin, in all honesty.

𓆩♡𓆪 Honestly, he loves all the marks you leave on him - be it teeth or nail (you always apply balm to it soon enough anyway).

𓆩♡𓆪 Even though he is million times stronger than you, he will let you pin him down with his little wrists and pretend to struggle as you kiss and lick at his neck.

𓆩♡𓆪 He also loves it when your shadow looms over him like a mountain when he's on his back; it's almost like you're keeping him secure from the world's eyes, it feels so, so intimate.

𓆩♡𓆪 Aftercare is also made easy with his small and your big statures.

i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man i love this man... :3

signing off, gambi

[hezigler]

Monk's Dream - Thelonious Monk Quartet

The Thelonious Monk Quartet, Brussels, 1963.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

maaan it'd be so EASY for chaggie to end up with an adopted cannibal kid after the battle with heaven, tho

with Vaggie's past (and that being a Thing she can Charlie can talk about now), her having her big WAIT THIS IS EVIL IM BEING EVIL moment over a cannibal child she couldn't bring herself to kill....

add to that Charlie, who is now the DIRECT reason quite a few cannibals are Extra Super Dead, thanks to her inspiring them into battle with her song-

"Have you ever felt like you're willing to die-"

very rousing, maybe less fun for her to remember after some of them DID die-

oh hush y'all eat ppl im sure dying isn't the most shocking outcome of a night out that you can imagine

Charlie legit pitched facing final death as a "chance to travel" and "see more of hell" and she did it with a jolly song and dance and GOOD ON HER for getting a fighting force to protect the dream of sinners someday being redeemed! ....but yeah. kinda heavy for her to remember later on, i'd think

and Cannibal Town residents are so tight knit with each other that it's a literal PLOT POINT Charlie has to face off against- no way they don't have families, no way there weren't families broken up by the battle at the Hazbin Hotel- at Charlie's hotel

No way Charlie wouldn't feel guilty about and responsible as FUCK for any little cannibal kid who ended up orphaned as a result....

ahem

(is that kid wearing like frisbee on their head?? whatever. it looks kinda like a halo don't it. kinda ironic. isn't it)

Rosie would even have to SUGGEST anything! She's got a good read on Charlie now and she's 100% on board with Alastor's plans to "guide" Charlie (cough manipulate and use cough cough)

and what would make a better leverage point than introducing a little cannibal kid for Charlie to worry and feel guilty over? an ORPHANED cannibal kid. Orphaned by the same fight Charlie led the cannibals into. Orphaned when the kid's parents DIED fighting for Charlie

(great way for Charlie to always keep Cannibal Town in mind anyway. Good way to make sure she's protective of it)

but oh the irony if Rosie didn't even MEAN for chaggie to end up with the kid!

if Rosie DIDN'T fully understand- just how much Charlie would want to give a loving family and childhood to someone, when she herself had one and is now dealing (trying to deal) with all that crumbling away as an adult-

ALSO THO. IF. Hypothetically. the orphan was the same kid Vaggie spared. Like how many sinner kids are there in hell. Not too many running around. If it was the same kid. if Vaggie saw that

....if the kid saw her- or, no, even better- if when she tried talking quietly with them, and when they heard her voice like that they looked up at her suddenly like

cannibal kid: "...Go."

Vaggie: (instantly standing up) "Right, sorry- I'll go get Charlie, or- would you rather Rosie-" (stops) (looks down)

Vaggie: "...?"

cannibal kid: (is holding onto the end of her hair ribbon)

cannibal kid: (whispering) "Run."

cannibal kid: (hopefully) "Now...?"

Vaggie: "...you, remember?"

cannibal kid: (nods)

Vaggie: (slowly sits back down)

Vaggie: "Yeah, hey. That was... that was a thing, wasn't it. It's, been a while. Three years... didn't think you'd recognize me."

cannibal kid: "Didn't. Look different."

Vaggie: "The long hair, missing eye and missing wings is a lot of change, huh?"

cannibal kid: (shrugs) "You're happy." (sniffles) "It's different."

Vaggie: ".....well, Charlie's the one who did all that. She's, pretty great at that stuff. And she'd like make things different for you too now. If you want."

cannibal kid: "........if I stay at the hotel... can I play with Razzle every day? Not, not just when princess Charlie brings him over?"

Vaggie: "Kinda looks like your stuck with him either way to me. Maybe check he's getting enough air, stuffed down into your coat front like that?"

cannibal kid: (unbuttoning an air hole for Razzle) "But he belongs at the hotel, where Dazzle's murmur- marble- um- murder dial-"

Vaggie: "Memorial..?"

cannibal kid: "Where Dazzle's memorial is."

Vaggie: "If you're okay leaving Cannibal Town, you can belong there too."

cannibal kid: "I'm okay leaving town."

cannibal kid: (beat)

cannibal kid: "It's boring."

Vaggie: "Yeah well, the hotel is definitely not gonna be boring."

cannibal kid: "Does it get blown up EVERY week, or just on special occasions?"

Vaggie: "It sure felt like every week but we're trying to cut back."

cannibal kid: "Dang."

please imagine tho, Charlie seeing this sad orphan kid who won't talk to anyone, maybe even "hasn't so much as had a nibble on anyone, the poor little biter" according to Rosie, since being orphaned-

and the next time Charlie visits she brings RAZZLE

and she introduce the two of them, then stands back and watches her childhood plushy turned demon win over this kid SO FAST, disappearing into their tiny but fierce little hugs, getting them to share a donut with him, showing them how to do a little song and dance routine (one him, Charlie, and Dazzle used to do) bringing a bit of normalcy back to a kid who's parents are dead because of her-

Charlie thinking to herself, that the least she can do, really, is give this kid as many of the best parts of HER own childhood as she can

[trashcanfanfics]

i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time

I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)

Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit

Angel Dust:

You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.

Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.

The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.

You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.

On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.

"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.

"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.

"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.

"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.

"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.

"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.

Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.

"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.

"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.

You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.

"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.

Blitz:

All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.

"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.

Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite

You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??

Blitz Baby <3: Asking

You: Then yes ;*

Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*

You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.

The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.

Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up

You: Aw what?? :( Okay...

Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short

You: Okay

Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.

Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.

A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.

"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.

"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.

"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.

"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.

The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.

"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."

"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.

"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!

"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.

"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.

"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.

Husk:

All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.

Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.

"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.

"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.

"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.

"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.

"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.

"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.

"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.

"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.

"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.

"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.

Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.

"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.

Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.

"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.

"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.

"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.

[t-tomuras]

† ─── •𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Alastor x F!reader

Warnings: Use of petnames ( dear, sweetheart, darling, dearheart ), reader has ears and a tail ( mhm ), religious themes / comparisons, mild biting, ( very slight ) injury, creampie, slight overstimulation

Wordcount: 5k

Notes: HA HA HA I've no excuse for this. canon is what I make of it.

“If you truly want a shot at redemption, my dear, you must actually make attempts at changing your behavior,” the muffled sound of Alastor’s voice seems far closer than the simple radio on your bedside table; the one that you continue to ignore with each morning’s wake up call. Reasoning that Sir Pentious must’ve turned the volume up on it when you caught him skulking around in your room or maybe it was one of his simpleminded minions mixing up the rooms they were allowed in.. again. 

Regardless, you shift further into the plush comforter, whining louder at the sound of radio static but you don’t open your eyes. Reaching blindly about hoping to wrap your hand around the infernal contraption to continue blissful sleep but to no avail.

“Five more minutes,” barely audible through the fabric of your comfortable pillowcase. Whines muffled by the material that you keep your face buried in. 

“You said that an hour ago, dearheart,” he speaks again, volume louder this time. It causes your ear to twitch wildly in an attempt to pinpoint where his noisy little box was without fully rousing from slumber. Groaning as you feel around blindly, m grasping at nothing but air for a spell until you think you’ve got it. A triumphant little smile spreading on your still hidden face when your clawed fingers brush over something cool. Closing your fist around it with a delighted hum before a proverbial bucket of cold water is dumped on you at the sound of Alastors voice once again. Closer this time, more clearly and obviously not emanating from anywhere but the source itself.

“I believe I’ve been lenient enough with you,” you gasp when cold fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting you up while you scramble to grip at your covers. Scrounging to maintain some decency and not reveal your bare chest to the hotelier himself. 

“Alastor,” sighed breathlessly while vibrant crimson hues scrutinize you, cheshire grin unwavering in his judgmental gaze before you’re dropped all together, “what are you doing here? You never come personally for a wake up call.” 

Usually it was one of the other staff members like Nifty, sweet Charlie or indifferent Husk; hell sometimes even Angeldust but it’s never once been the boss himself. 

“It’s your first day on the job sweetheart, I don’t approve of tardiness either,” you clamber to sit up with your covers clutched closely to your chest. Swinging your legs over the side of the plush mattress top after Alastor gives you his back. Glancing to the side for whatever you’d taken hold of to see his staff set against your nightstand. Gaze flickering from it to him as he crosses the room in confident strides to your wardrobe. Taking a moment to rummage through the hanging clothes until he procures an empty hanger from the rack before returning to your bedside.

Extending his arm out with the metal wire hooked on thin digits as his other hand gestures towards it in show. His lids fall shut, bowing gentlemanly as he presents you with a white dress shirt and sleek black pencil skirt to compliment as well as a blazer you’ll forgo despite how it’s meant to complete the ensemble. 

“I had it tailored specially for you,” Alastor bends at the waist, lifting his head for his gaze to rake over your form, enjoying the way you squirm under the scrutiny. “No more embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions over that tail of yours! This will be your uniform while you work as my assistant.”

“Assistant?” You blink owlishly, gingerly taking the outfit after Alastor holds it out to you. 

“Yes! My assistant,” his voice warbles like an old radio that wavers in signal before it stabilizes once again, “you see, your gracious host believes the best suited action plan for your soul's salvation is to actually put forth some effort towards your community.” 

You’re standing now, pout on your lips as you tilt your head. Fastening the buttons to the crisp dress shirt of your new uniform, “and my community would be?” 

Though you regret the question the moment the words leave your lips, ears flattening against your skull they almost blend in with your hair at the sight of the telltale twitch to the Radio Demons eye. He doesn’t falter for long, taking hold of his staff and resting both of his hands over top one another against the spit guard of his mic. Taking your silence as understanding before he continues, busying himself by pacing about your room nonchalantly as you finish dressing. 

“I agreed with her and as of late I have been in dire need,” his head makes a sickening snap as it spins fully around to face you before his body follows, “of an extra set of semi competent hands for my laundry list of duties to accomplish in a day!” 

With an ostentatious gesture of the pommel of his staff, Alastor signals the end of his spiel, “that is where you come in, my dear. Two birds with one stone and all that jazz.”

You heave a bereft sigh as you pull on the tight pin skirt, shimmying it over wide hips but for once you don’t encounter a lack of space for your bushy tail. Spinning around to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a tentative smile finding your lips as you smooth the fabric down the curve of your ass before you’re reminded you aren’t alone in the sanctity of your own room. 

“And don’t you look ready for the day?” Stifling your yelp when your new boss appears behind you, hands resting on your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes of your reflection. Nodding with a sheepish grin when he responds, “Marvelous.”

Hoping he didn’t take notice of the shiver that wracks down your spine before he turns on his heel. Spinning his staff around in his hand as Alastor takes his leave, projecting his voice as he makes no effort to wait for you, “come along now dear, we have much to do.” 

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t being hyperbolic either. Toting you all over town before shoving a list of remaining tasks to do while he attended another meeting with the overlords. Groaning over each item you move to after completing the previous one, snarling incredulously as you shift his dry cleaning from one hand to another. 

“Where the fuck am I supposed to find venison at this hour?” Where were you meant to find it at all, rather. Perhaps you’ll call for Angel’s aid with the promise of your top shelf absinthe that Husk selfishly hoards for himself. 

In moderation, of course! Lest Ms. Morningstar force you to write out the importance of considering others' journeys to recovery. Tossing the plastic bag protecting his tailored suit over your shoulder to rest against your back to reduce the chance of wrinkling. 

“Kinda fucked up that he eats deer though,” commenting offhandedly to yourself as you send the proposition to Angel before, for the third time today, Alastor startles you. 

“It’s an acquired taste sweetheart,” he coos as he materializes from the shadows, falling into step with you effortlessly, “however I have taken notice of your lingering gaze, perhaps you possess the peculiar taste yourself.” 

Your ear flicks wildly in minute agitation, chest warming with embarrassment. More than accustomed to how aware Alastor was to most things deemed important but you didn’t think that included you by any scope of the word. 

What purpose could he have for watching you? Alastor doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it nor explore the thought before he’s pinching the list he’d given you earlier to steal it from your grasp. Humming, what you think is, anyway, approvingly over all the marked off items. 

“Your last errand for me today is to help me set up for my broadcast. I've been so occupied with our little passion project that I fear leaving it to those little egg creatures has left my booth in a state!” 

Alastor glances back at you with his signature smug expression, your tired body slouching forward as you follow him down the street as sinners quickly dive out of his path. “Fine, fine, as long as I can catch a break after this.” 

“Of course my dear, I’m no slave driver.” 

But a state is an understatement for the utter disarray Alastor’s booth was in upon both of your arrivals. You almost think this is a form of torment on the Radio Demon’s part for dealing with your tardiness but that notion is quickly dismissed upon seeing his reaction. 

A tight lipped grin (more akin to a grimace) on his features telling of his agitation even without the twitch to his lid or the vice grip Alastor has on his staff. 

Trash strewn about, broken glass and spilled drinks over the soundboard and overturned furniture. You could only imagine what could have occurred with the moronic minions, but you’re certain this transgression against Alastor’s prized space will not go unpunished. 

You see it as an opportunity for an owed favor, not that you couldn’t barter with Sir Pentious to do what you asked of him but this will leave you without haggle for certain. Thankful for his odd adoration of the incompetent creatures. 

Allowing them to see another day as you chirp quickly, “I’ll clean the mess if you repair the broken things.” 

Playful as if that’ll placate the man but he hums dryly, using his magic to mend the glass while you tidy up the old fashioned way. Sweeping up shards and crumpling up what you hope were unimportant scraps of paper the eggs used for ‘arts and crafts’. 

Though you do keep one that involves a crudely drawn Alastor with one of the eggs holding his hand, signed by name: Frank.. with a backwards R. 

Your sleeves are rolled up by the time you’re done, fanning yourself before finally taking down your hair to admire your work. The space near pristine save for the Radio Demons oh deer mug and a few scattered transcripts of requests that’ll never make it to the open air of his broadcasts. 

“Well done my little languorous lady!” You’re not sure if he’s being genuinely sarcastic or not, his tone frequently facetious sounding in nature but you choose not to take offense. Swiping your forearm over your brow as Alastor taps the reupholstered cushioned seat next to him, “that’s all for today. You may rest now.”  

“Gladly,” you all but groan as you flop into the seat next to him, slumping against its back as you glance over your shoulder through the window. Lidded gaze taking in the liveliness of the city below the hilltop of the hotel before you stretch out tired limbs. A yawn overtaking you as you allow yourself to relax. Uncaring that you’re still in the presence of a menacing overlord. 

You nod off with an ease that’s almost impressive. Slowly leaning against his shoulder until your limp body slumps further into Alastor, causing a stiffness in him as he looks over you. Scrutinizing for a moment as he contemplates if you’re feigning sleep for a brazen attempt at contact with him but the thought is quickly dismissed. 

You were a sleepy creature, after all. 

And for a long moment, his arms hover away from you in his surprise. Poised with the option to either shove you from his lap or hold you closer and in the absence of questioning eyes (not that any wretched soul dares to do so), Alastor chooses the former. 

His fingers come to pet along the curve of your skull. Combing through the bumps in your hair from the professional updo that you’d so proudly put effort into. 

With an almost bereft sigh despite his unwavering cheshire grin, he adjusts you carefully so you’ll curl with more ease in his lap, your nose pressed to his throat after he’d thoughtfully angled your head to his shoulder. Finally situating you in a way he could still reach his coffee and begin his broadcast. Alastor supposes you’ve earned this uninterrupted rest in his presence.

Just this once.

He supposes he shouldn’t be at all surprised with how your slumber remains wholly uninterrupted even while he talks or sings into his mic. Unmitigated volume but at least you remain quiet, not a peep from you not even a whine. 

He could almost praise you, but he’s already done so once today. And the notion is completely out the window whenever he shakes you in an attempt to rouse you at the end of his broadcast. 

Enough that you whine and shift in his hold but only further wrapping yourself around him. Arms coming to loop around his throat and link your fingers on the shoulder opposite of the one you rest on, shocking even him when you nuzzle into the juncture of his jaw. 

What a lucky thing you were, not to be punished for the over familiarity with him even while unconscious.

Alastor takes in a deep breath, chest expanding with the wide berth before he exhales long and slowly. Hooking his arms around your shoulders and the backs of your knees, for an ample amount of support of course, as he moves to stand. Sidestepping from his seat and descending the stairs that connect Alastor’s booth to the hotel. 

Features an impassive, muted smile as he treks quietly through the halls until he reaches the floor you stay on. Snapping his fingers to open your door and close it behind him upon his entrance, closing the distance to your messy bed with little effort. 

“Perhaps you’ll need to spend the day with Nifty soon,” said in jest when you seem to rouse ever so slightly. 

“Mmm, no,” playfully petulant with a smile gracing plump lips as you use your cutest sounding sleepy voice, “trying to send me away? Didn't I do good for you today?”

“You did, let’s try and make it a habit,” a little snide but you understand, even in your half asleep haze, it isn’t inherently directed at you. It’s like second nature to him now, the sarcasm and glib attitude. 

You giggle over it, humming in affirmation as you’re gently laid to rest but he's warm against your body. You cling to it, whine with furrowed brows as his fingers wrap around your biceps in a bid for you to loosen your hold. 

You tighten instead, flex the muscles in them defiantly even as he pulls away, “five more minutes Alastor.” 

“You always say that darling.” 

“And it usually works,” a childish rebuttal but you can tell when to take an inch or a mile depending on Alastors mood. Despite his unamused expression, you figure it couldn’t hurt to attempt the mile, “five minutes. You’re warm, I’ll fall asleep quickly.” 

To your surprise, but not without a defeated sigh more than telling of his annoyance, he agrees. Resting his knee on the edge of your mattress and you take it as your sign to let go of him so he can crawl in after you. Excitedly lifting the downy comforter in invitation before fluffing it over the both of you once he lies down. 

Rigidly and awkwardly, taking one side of your bed as if there was a physical diving line while staring up at the ceiling, but in your bed nonetheless; that doesn’t mean you won’t pout about it however. You’ve already taken one mile, what’s another few feet? 

“I took care of you aaallll day,” uttered as a sweet purr while you scoot closer, ignoring how pinstraight he lies beneath your covers. Alastor only hums sardonically, even in the dark you can see his smile. You prop up on your elbow, resting your cheek on the back of your hand as you petulantly furrow your brows over how he lies flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. 

Only sparing you cursory glances before his lids fall shut under your unwavering gaze, “five minutes isn’t a very long time, you know.”

“Rude,” scoffing indignantly, flopping next to him, close enough Alastor can feel your breath fan against his cheek. It bothers you how it seems like he’s ready to leave, the nonchalant, indifferent air about him palpable at your side as a silence falls between you. Causing a ringing in your ears before you disturb the peace once more. 

“I kinda liked it yknow,” you start slowly. Turning over until you’re half on your stomach, half on your side. Testing the waters by placing your palm on his chest, continuing when Alastor only gives you a sideways glance, “bein of some use to you.” 

Drumming your fingers against the fabric of his blazer, fingering a button as you wait for any response, good or bad, from Alastor. Touching him brazenly, however slight and innocent it may be, but it’s encouraging how he doesn’t recoil from the contact. It emboldens you, even under the intense gaze of glowing crimson; it goads you into testing further. Hooking your leg over his hips, waiting with bated breath to see if you’re pushing your luck but your self preservation skills were always in a severe deficit.

“Two minutes left, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at his warning, sitting up as you pull yourself to straddle his hips, “maybe I could do a little more for you.”  

He glances downward, brow quirked upwards as he watches you hover above his pelvis. Careful not to rest your weight against him, just in case.You’ve piqued his interest and curiosity in tandem. 

“What more do I need of you, then, dearest?” Dare you think there’s a coyness to his tone? 

Finally, you lower yourself against him, skirt hiking further up to the point it’s bunched at your hips. Leaning towards him until your chest is pressed to his and your elbows rest on either side of his face. Close, as if to share a secret as you whisper, “you need me sir.” 

The moment breaks the second the statement leaves your lips, Alastors pupils now morphed into the radio dials as his sclera darken to deep voids and irises glow brilliantly. 

You’re on your back in a flash, positions flipped with your boss for the day caging you in beneath him. Imposing his weight against you as he invades your personal space now, “and who are you to tell me what I need?” 

Though you’re far from dissuaded with this reaction. If he wanted to kill you he would have, “can I call it a suggestion instead? Or is my desire merely projection?” 

A beat of silence passes between you, then another. The blood coursing in your veins, roaring in your ears does little to drown out the sound of radio static emanating from Alastor. You worry your lip between your teeth, making the already plump flesh swell from the gentle abuse. 

All the while under the microscope of Alastors piercing glare until all at once, he relaxes above you. Shoulders slacking and, with a blink, you’re met with the familiar dual tones of crimson and vermillion, “I enjoy your company, sweetheart, I won’t lie to you there.” 

You relax in turn, tilting your head into your pillow as you bring your hands up to your chest. Testing over your sternum as if to manually slow your rapidly beating heart before steadily undoing the buttons of your blouse. Heat rising from your throat to your cheeks despite how he definitely saw your naked chest earlier in the day. 

It’s different now though, having him watch you undress compared accidentally and innocently seeing you in the nude earlier. You exhale your trepidation though, tossing away your shirt and arching up without touching Alastor who makes no move to aid nor assist you to unclasp your bra to shed away as well. Settling back down the pillow top, resisting the urge to cover yourself despite the inadvertence to one sided vulnerability; you’ve come this far, you’ve no desire to turn back. 

Meeting his unwavering eye contact with your own, stone faced while Alastor grins as you shimmy your skirt and panties down your hips until they slip down your calves to pool at your ankles. Lifting your legs ever so slightly to kick them away, spreading your thighs thoughtfully to frame his hips. 

Now laid completely bare beneath a still clothed Alastor but you’ve steeled your resolve, tucking your chin down to achieve a sultry look. Bringing your fingers between your thighs to swipe slow circles against your clit. Dull throbs of pleasure gradually flooding your system the louder the slick clicks grow from your ministrations.  

Lips parting around a breathy sigh as your hips twitch into your touch, all while the Radio Demon watches you with muted intrigue. 

It excites you, warms your chest as your arch with a soft moan. Batting your lashes up at him, “your turn..” 

Alastors grin grows impossibly wider, watchful eyes dragging down your naked body then back up again, “you’re still mine to command for the day.” 

A whine leaves your lips next, knees falling inward and resting against either side of Alastors tapered waist. Shoulders creeping higher as he leans down to husk in your ear, the usually threatening electronic warble of his voice makes your puffy throb with need at commanding, “undress me yourself.” 

A coy smile splits your features, pointed canines digging into your lips darkened by the rush of blood as you raise your arms. Resting your hands on Alastors chest before pushing into the sleeves of his blazer, away from his shoulders and he’s gracious enough to lean slightly on his haunches to shed it while you work at the buttons of his shirt. Unfastening each one with a fervor, eager to see and feel his skin against yours. 

Growing more bold as you lean up with him, dragging your palms along Alastors triceps as his shirt follows his blazer. Stalling minutely when your nose brushes against his, focus darting between his eyes to his lips and back again before you close the gap. A tentative brush at first but your grow confident easily, one hand cupping the nape of his neck just below the curve of his skull while the other ventures between you. 

Fingertips grazing his abdomen while you work at his trousers, laughing breathlessly into the kiss in a subtle bid for air when you feel a firmness at his crotch. Palming it testingly after you’ve undone his button and zipper, humming a pleased noise before you push at the pooling waist of the garment as you fall back against your pillows. 

“That isn’t your staff this time, is it, Alastor?” 

Alastor scoffs as he tosses away his bottoms, ridding himself of his final article in the meantime so you can appreciatively drink in the sight of him.

“Playing coy isn’t your strong suit dearest,” you shiver at the hint of agitation in his tone, but with delight this time. 

But even still, as you lose yourself to the overwhelming desire for him, your confidence wavers with his lack of enthusiasm over physical engagement. Peering up at him with a pathetic look about you, knit brows and a slight pout to your lips.

“Whatever the matter, are you losing your nerve?” Alastor teases as he lowers himself to you, hard cock sliding against slick lips, a gasp ripping from your lungs at the contact as you shake your head emphatically. Looping your arm beneath his to drape along his shoulder blades, ever so slightly pressing him more firmly against you. His head dips lower, allowing you to tuck your head into his throat and with his lips by your ear he growls out a simple, “lovely.”

Your hips twitch reflexively into his at the sound, delighted thrill dancing down each vertebra of your spine only to race back up when his mushroomed tip nudges against your clit. Sighing a soft sound as you chase the feeling, feet flat on the mattress top as you grind up into Alastor who chuckles bemusedly at how so little elicits so much from you. 

But he can admit to himself that you feel a kind of sinful he hasn’t partaken in for quite some time— if at all. He doesn’t remember, it’s never been a priority to him but it never hurts to indulge yourself every now and again. 

His arm slips beneath you, fingertips pressing into your back to force you to arch further into him as he reaches to firmly grasp the back of your thigh. Pressing his thumb into the flesh while his hips roll into yours, coating himself in your wetness and filling the room with sticky clicks until his cockhead catches on your entrance. You inhale sharply at the initial stretch, eyes rolling back behind closed lids causing them to flutter and Alastor to chuckle until he’s fully sheathed in you. 

“Sweetheart you are divine,” ironic, given where you’ve ended up for eternity but the praise adds to the pleasure Alastor causes. Falling into an easy rhythm with the pace that he’s set. 

Even and calculated, satisfying with each rut of his hips into your warmth. Your legs raise until your ankles hook at the base of his spine, heels resting gently at the small of his back and the position cants your hips just so, allowing Alastor to drive into that patch within you that you swear has you seeing Heaven's light. 

Singing his praises with saccharine sighs and pitched moans that break the syllables of his name that punctuate each thrust he delivers. 

Like music to his ears, and Alastor grits it out in so many sounds rather than sentences, a first for the Radio Demon for certain; a loss for words. If not for the choked grunts when your tight walls pulse in time with your heavily beating heart, you’d think he was enjoying himself far less than you were as the telltale coil tightened in your lower belly. Assured of his pleasure as he hastens in pace ever so slightly, rut of his hips hurried almost imperceptibly— or perhaps you were just too lost in the throngs of pleasure on the precipice of euphoria to notice. 

“Where would you like me dear,” the sound of his voice barely grounds you, blinking a few times before he repeats his question as your hands cup either side of his jaw. 

“You’re pretty old fashioned, h-huh? How about th— ah, good ol pull n’pray?” You giggle over your own joke while your fingers thread into the crop of his bob. Tugging gently before pointed claws scrape softly, soothingly, at his scalp while Alastors grin grows tight quickly. Hips stuttering out of rhythm while you’re wholly unaware of how your laughter forced you to grip him tighter so deliciously that it was the final nail in his proverbial coffin. Velvet walls constricting around his sensitive cock so sinfully and it ultimately leads to his demise. The lights of your room flickering and his eyes glow brighter with the warble of his voice contorting his groan. 

His nails dig into your skin as his body seizes while spilling into you, giving you surface level puncture wounds. The combination of pain and pleasure occurring simultaneously while Alastor fills you full has you following him into sweet rapture. Cells alright causing you to arch into him, emitting a throaty moan that drags out the final letter of his name. 

All while Alastor continues to work you both through the experience. Each of his movements deliberate in order to prolong the feeling but it does well to overstimulate you in the best of ways. Body twitching as his hips drag backwards only to push in with a salaciously lewd squelch, his spend dribbling from you as he fills you full. 

Too full, overwhelmed in the best way that you can’t stop yours from splaying your palms out over his back. Digging your heels with a little more pressure in incistance for closeness as your teeth sink into the soft tissues where his throat curves into his shoulder. 

Drawing a surprised snarl from him and biting out “careful now darling. Don’t get too carried away.” Breathless post ecstasy as his hips slow and you utter muted apologies, dotting tentative kisses to the marks blossoming in your wake but you’re more than glad to have left some tangible evidence of your coupling. 

Even if not a soul besides yourself will ever see them, it’s enough to know they’re there and this isn’t some very vivid perverse dream. 

A calm falls over the room as Alastor detangles you both from one another, his lids fluttering shut when you stretch before settling down. Turning over on the stomach and he’s certain you’ll slip into unconsciousness within a few minutes— figuring then is the time to take his leave.

He recovered first, anyway, sitting up while his fingers smooth down any unruliness your activities might’ve caused before he shifts. The motion draws your attention and, despite how badly you want to remain on cloud nine now that you’ve achieved it with a blissful shortcut, you crash from the high. Alert now as a bit of worry spikes in your bloodstream.

You reach out, just like you have a multitude of times today alone but Charlie did say the road to your redemption was seizing opportunities whenever they present themselves. Fingers encircling his thin wrist, the touch earning a questioning sound from him. 

Squirming under his gaze, suddenly the slightest bit self conscious as you ask the same thing that always tumbles from your lips with ease, “five more minutes?”

And for the second time today, Alastor complies. Turning on his side as you brighten and beam at him before closing the distance with a swiftness. Nose to his chest while your arms weave around his torso, humming contentedly when you both settle between the sheets. 

“You always say that.”