Sins on the Page

by Hazbinstohell (longstorm), Nightmareficwriter

Summary:

In shadows deep, where whispers hide,
A tale unfolds of love denied.
Charlie, once bound to Vaggie's side,
Now treads a path where secrets bide.

In echoes soft, through corridors dark,
A heart untangles, leaving its mark.
Alastor's charm, a sinister spark,
Draws Charlie close, igniting a spark.

Yet in her journal, inked with care,
Charlie finds verses, a love affair.
Mysterious poems, they do declare,
The depths of her newfound dare.

A dance of emotions, tangled and free,
As Charlie's heart yearns, wild and free.
Betwixt the lines, for all to see,
The tale of love's sweet mystery.

Notes:

Hi friends! We have something new for you today! Nightmare, who writes up some wonderful songs and fics, have a story of loss, deception, romance, and poems!

We do hope you will leave us a comment and enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Journal

Charlie's head throbbed with an intensity that bordered on unbearable. Despite her deep affection for her crew, today had been particularly trying. She shuffled into the kitchen, massaging her temples in search of sustenance. Glancing at the table, she saw a package.

 

With a resigned sigh, she realized no one had bothered to tell her of its delivery. Picking it up, she noticed it lacked any postage markings, bearing only her name.

As the daughter of the King of Hell, Charlie understands the importance of addressing certain matters promptly and suspects one of her fellow hotel members might have been aware of it.

 

With the package in hand, she heads to the foyer, where Niffty is the first to inquire. 

"Whatcha got there, Charlie?"

 

At the sound of Niffty's voice, the rest of the crew turns their attention to her, prompting a weary sigh from Charlie. 

 

"Alright, alright. Who's trying to pull one over on me this time?"

 

She gazes at Angel Dust, who responds with a nonchalant shrug, "Meh, ya haven't even opened the package yet! It might provide some clues for ya."

 

Turning her attention to Vaggie, Charlie finds her shrugging as well, "I'm not sure, but Angel might have a point."

 

A furrow forms on Charlie's brow as Vaggie averts her gaze. 

 

"Fine, but everyone stays put. I'm not taking any chances with random packages from unknown sources."

 

Sir Pentious interjects with a nod of agreement, "Could be a bomb!"

All eyes shift towards him, prompting a collective step backward as Charlie lets out a sigh. Despite the tension, she begins to carefully unwrap the package.

 

With bated breath, she peeks inside as she tears away the paper. Her anticipation grows as she retrieves what appears to be a book. Yet, upon closer inspection, her eyes sparkle with delight. The intricate design of the hardcover leather binding, adorned with elaborate patterns and embossed with delicate vines and natural motifs, captivates her.

 

Opening it, she discovers blank pages within and realizes it's a journal.

 

Charlie cradles the journal gently in her hands, tracing her fingers over its surface until she spots a small message on the back. "To Charlotte Morningstar. May this aid your aspirations."

 

A smile tugs at Charlie's lips as she glances up at the puzzled expressions of her crew, "Well!? Oh, come on! I absolutely adore it! I'll treasure it forever! Vaggie, it's from you, right!?"

 

Vaggie, however, looks genuinely perplexed, "Sorry, Charlie. It wasn't me.”

 

Charlie's expression darkens slightly at the revelation. The supposed "break" in their relationship had sparked a glimmer of hope within her, but now disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders. With a resigned sigh, she turns her gaze to Angel Dust,  "Did you?"

 

"Pfft, Blondie, if I got ya a gift, ya know I'd bring the good stuff!" 

 

Angel Dust retorts with a smirk, eliciting a frown from Charlie. She knows all too well that his idea of "good stuff" typically revolves around either drugs or something sexual. She turns her attention to Pentious, who merely shrugs in response.

 

Charlie's gaze shifts to Niffty, who shakes her head, then to Husk, who offers her a perplexed expression, "Seriously? I'd sooner give you a bottle of that vodka you're fond of than a book." Husk remarks, earning a frustrated huff from Charlie.

 

Finally relenting, Charlie lets out a sigh, momentarily forgetting about the presence behind her. 

 

"Well, my dear, perhaps it's from an admirer." 

 

She muses, turning back to face Alastor, who chuckles in response, "However, I'm quite certain, darling, that whoever delivered it would have had to confront one of us. So dare I say, they've been deterred."

 

The crew's laughter echoes around her as Charlie huffs in annoyance, contemplating the possibility of some strange collective effort behind the mysterious gift. Unbeknownst to her, she misses the subtle gesture of one demon's hand pointing towards the book, nor does she notice the brief glow it emits when she thumbs through its pages.

 

With a resigned huff, Charlie relents. 

 

"Fine! I'll simply cherish it. After all, it is a gift-a beautiful one at that. Look, I've got a big headache so, good night everyone!"

 

Charlie gathers her hair into a braid, exhaling softly as she reflects on the tumultuous events of her day. Angel had stashed away new drugs, Husk nearly incited a brawl with Sir Pentious after breaking a bottle, Vaggie and Alastor engaged in their usual heated debates about the hotel's management, and Niffty wreaked havoc on half the mops while battling a pesky insect.

 

Her gaze drifts to her desk where the book rests. She runs her fingers over its finely crafted leather cover, pondering its origin. Could it be from her father? It would make sense, but the gift seems almost too lavish for his usual style.

 

With a determined resolve, Charlie reaches for a cute, pink pen and delicately opens the journal. Her mind races with possibilities as she ponders what to write first. Should she document her day, or perhaps delve into the broader canvas of her life? After several moments of contemplation, she settles on an opening statement:

 

"M y name is Charlotte Morningstar!  I’m  the Princess of Hell! I founded the Hazbin Hotel (originally Happy Hotel, until a  certain  crew member decided to change it)!

 

Anyway,  I'm  eager to chronicle all the exciting events that unfold. Today, I  have a strong suspicion  that one of my dear friends left me this journal! While  I'm  uncertain of the  giver's  identity,  I'm  determined to cherish it nonetheless !”

 

Charlie pauses, setting the pen down and stretching her tired muscles, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. With a sense of finality, she closes the journal, marking the beginning of her new nightly routine-one that no longer includes Vaggie. Her gaze drifts towards the bed, and she sighs deeply.

 

Meanwhile, in a room close to her own, an ominous figure reads Charlie's heartfelt words, closing the matching journal with a sense of satisfaction. The secrets that could be unearthed from a journal, especially one belonging to the heir to the throne, tantalize him. His laughter echoes through the room as he places the journal down on his desk, ready to delve into its contents further.

 

A day later, Charlie finds herself sitting with Vaggie, but the conversation seems to be going nowhere. Their relationship remains in a limbo-like state, with Vaggie appearing distant and dismissive. Charlie musters the courage to inquire if this means they're free to see other people, but Vaggie's sorrowful gaze is all the answer she needs. It's a painful realization, but one that feels inevitable.

 

Ironically, amidst the heartache, Charlie finds solace in the daily musings and antics of her hotelier. With Vaggie's absence becoming more frequent, he has taken a renewed interest in the hotel's affairs, even assisting Charlie with a financial report for her father. His support serves as a temporary balm for her broken heart, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil.

 

She had actually written about him that day:

Alastor, in my thoughts, he looms,

Beside my desk, amidst the rooms.

No coat adorned, sleeves rolled high,

A scent of pine and spices nigh.

 

His breath, a whisper, near my ear,

I shudder, fighting back the fear.

" H e's  just a partner, "  I chastise,

Suppressing thoughts, I must be wise.

 

Yet, in the chaos of my mind,

His presence lingers, unconfined.

Amidst the strife with  Vaggie's  plight,

I must regain my focus , right?

 

So, I remind myself, I plead,

To heed the path I choose to lead.

For in this turmoil, I must cope,

And find within  myself,  a hope.

 

Charlie's thoughts drift to Alastor. She recalls a moment while working on financial paperwork at her desk when he leaned over her shoulder to offer guidance. His usual coat was absent, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing a scent of pine and spices that she hadn't noticed before—perhaps remnants from the food he prepares. Despite her efforts to focus on the task at hand, she couldn't ignore the sensation of his breath on her ear, causing an involuntary shiver to run down her spine. "He's your business partner!" she scolds herself internally. "You can't entertain these thoughts!" With everything going on, particularly the problems with Vaggie, she resolves to get a grip on her emotions.

 

As the crew retired to their rooms for the evening, the Princess found herself enveloped in a profound sense of solitude within her expansive suite. With a heavy heart, she recalled a poignant poem, eager to inscribe it in the margins of her day.

 

In silent halls, seats empty, theaters dark,

Yet  still  we tread the boards, each scene stark.

Why do we keep  acting,  in this  void's  embrace?

To find meaning in shadows, to seek grace.

 

She exhales deeply, the book closing with a resolute thud. A tear escapes her eye, landing softly on the leather, tenderly wiped away by her thumb. In solitude, perhaps cloaked in melancholy, she places the book on her desk with a heavy heart. With another sigh, she retreats to her bed, sinking into the space once occupied by her ex-girlfriend. The weight of her sorrow overwhelms her, tears cascading as she succumbs to sleep's embrace.

 

Alastor meanders through his room, sinking into his armchair with a heavy sigh. Some days, he despises this place, while others it brims with captivating allure. Observing the exchange between the hotel owner and her ex, he discerns the palpable sorrow etched across their faces. Charlie, left alone, gazes at the vacant seat once occupied by Vaggie.

 

Reaching for a book identical to Charlie's, Alastor knows their pages share an intimate connection. The ink that adorns her pages mirrors his own, a silent testament to their intertwined souls. Whether she writes or he does, their words seamlessly merge, bound by an unspoken bond.

 

He disregards that aspect, preoccupied instead with her secrets, which he will keep in reserve for potential leverage. A chuckle escapes his mouth, as he thinks about yesterday's message about himself. She is displaying a rather charming romanticism. He stored the sentiment away, deeming such gestures as potentially valuable. Now, as he delves into today's page, he's pleasantly surprised by the four, neatly written lines adorning the margin. A brief hesitation ensues as he contemplates. This deviates from his initial plan, yet he finds himself drawn in by the unexpected allure of her poetic talent.

 

He picks up a pen and scribbles just under what she wrote: 

 

In the realm of shadows, where strength seems lost, 

The stage endures, a sanctuary daily crossed.

Amidst the players, in their varied role, 

The star shines bright, commanding the whole.

Acting, a solace when the world grows dark, 

Each scene a refuge, each line a spark. 

Let not the cast, with their doubts and fears, 

Dim the brilliance that the star reveres.

 

Content with his work, he sets the pen aside, eagerly anticipating the dawn of a new day, enchanted by her subtle wordplay.

 

The next day, Charlie carries on with her usual routine, lending a hand to Niffty and entering the office to find Alastor in high spirits. Together, they devise plans for upcoming activities that promise a hint of excitement. Yet, interactions with Vaggie remain brief and strained, casting a shadow over their otherwise jovial atmosphere.

 

At a certain juncture, Alastor and Charlie sought to locate her, only to stumble upon Vaggie in the supply closet, brandishing her weapon in a confrontation with Angel Dust and Husk.

 

Despite Charlie's attempts to defuse the situation, Vaggie's tension peaked, her spear poised perilously close to her neck. Yet, in a moment of clarity, she relents, allowing the weapon to clatter to the ground with a chilling thud, her voice trembling as she utters, 

 

"Charlie... I... I'm so sorry!"

 

Angel Dust's astonishment is palpable, "Damn, I get that you two split, but seriously? Threatening her?"

 

Alastor, sensing the tension, prepares to intervene, startled by Vaggie's uncharacteristic fury and feeling compelled to assert authority.

 

Desperation tinges Vaggie's voice, "No! That's not... I would never..."

 

Charlie's gaze falters momentarily, but then she steps forward, "Vaggie, can we please talk about this?"

 

With a heavy sigh, Vaggie shakes her head, "No. I... I have to go."

 

As Vaggie departs, even Alastor finds himself perplexed by her actions. Is she concealing something? And could Charlie be involved?

 

Charlie watches Vaggie's departure, her breathing ragged and uneven. With a heavy heart, she excuses herself, tears welling up, seeking solace away from prying eyes. Angel turns to Alastor, his expression questioning. 

 

"Do you think one of them cheated or something!?"

 

Alastor hums thoughtfully, "Something has transpired, but it appears Charlie remains unaware. Nevertheless, this situation isn't conducive to our establishment's reputation."

 

Husk scoffs, "More like they need to sort out their drama."

 

Angel Dust chimes in with a laugh, "Yeah, maybe they just need to get some action. The one best done on a bed!"

 

Charlie's presence at dinner is brief and distant. She avoids eye contact with Vaggie, who opts to sit with Nifty instead. Taking her plate, Charlie retreats to her room, tears welling up in her eyes. Setting the plate down on her desk, she crumbles, succumbing to the weight of her emotions as tears stream down her face.

 

For a fleeting moment, all she can manage is to push the plate aside and rest her head on her desk, lost in a whirlwind of emotions. After a few minutes, the rumble of her stomach breaks through her reverie, and the aroma of her dinner finally registers.

 

Looking up, she realizes it's Alastor's jambalaya. Despite her inner turmoil, she attempts to take a few bites. On any other day, it would be the highlight of her week, his culinary skills unmatched. Usually, she savors every bite, often going back for seconds. And Alastor, ever the enigmatic host, delights in her enjoyment, often preparing more just to witness her smile with each mouthful.

 

Today, she manages only a few half-hearted bites, the flavors failing to evoke their usual delight. With a heavy heart, she pushes the plate away once more, retreating to stare out the window, wrapping herself in a cocoon of introspection. Hot tears stream down her cheeks as she grapples with the unraveling of her relationship.

 

Gazing at the book through tear-filled eyes, she reaches for it, flipping to the last section. Taking up her pen, she pauses, wiping away her tears before pressing the pen to the page, only to stop abruptly, her emotions too raw to find the words.

 

The pink ink she usually writes with, contrasts starkly against the dark red, wider strokes now adorning the page. Perplexed, she scans her surroundings, searching for any other anomalies. Even her pink pen remains in its designated cup, undisturbed.

 

Placing her finger over the letters, she reads the passage repeatedly, blinking in confusion. She casts another glance around the room, hoping to make sense of the inexplicable change.

 

She picks up her pen and delicately writes:

 

Forgive me, for these words  aren't  mine,

In hues of red, a cryptic sign.

What sorcery is this I see?

A tale unraveling, mystery.

 

She halts, her gaze drifting to the wall. Is this diary possessed? Cursed? Enchanted? The thought leaves her unsettled. Should she continue pouring her thoughts onto its pages?

 

Opting to set it aside, she lets her mind wander, if only briefly, away from the troubling questions.

 

Meanwhile, Alastor carefully places his microphone back in its designated spot before making his way to his desk. As he reaches for the diary, he can't help but wonder what she's written within its pages.

 

He chuckles at her message, deciding not to dignify it with a response. No need to engage at this current time.

 

If there's a significant issue at hand, he'll address it then. For now, he'll let her stew in her thoughts a bit longer.

 

Over the next two days, she carries on her duties around the hotel, noticeably more subdued. Even Angel Dust takes notice, suggesting,

 

"Maybe we should get her a drink? I kinda wanna see her confront Vaggie."

 

Alastor observes Charlie lost in thought, but she insists she's simply deep in contemplation. After a moment of consideration, he suggests, "Darling, it seems this situation with your ex is encroaching on your focus. Why not take the day off? I'll manage things for a day."

 

Charlie regards him skeptically, asking, "Really?"

 

Approaching her, Alastor places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his smile almost genuine, his touch tender. As his thumb caresses her shoulder, he encourages her, "Let me handle things for a day. Take some time for yourself. Remember that journal from the other day? Write down your thoughts and set them aside. Start afresh, my dear. I do miss the old Charlie around here."

 

Charlie pauses, considering Alastor's suggestion. Perhaps a day off would indeed do her good. She places her hand atop his, acknowledging his offer, before exiting the room. As she closes the door behind her, Alastor's smirk sends a chill down her spine.

 

"I'll come check on you later." 

 

He remarks with a smirk, his words dripping with an unsettling charm, "Remember, my dear, a smile is a valuable tool."

 

Meeting his gaze for a moment, Charlie's expression softens before she looks away, a small smirk tugging at her lips. With a silent nod, she turns and walks away, leaving Alastor to revel in his small victory, knowing well that his influence over her may only grow stronger in the days to come.

 

Returning to her room, she discards her tailored jacket onto the bed, sinking into a moment of contemplation. If a smile was indeed such a valuable tool, why did it feel so painful to wear one?

 

The memory tugs at her consciousness, leading her to the journal. Though the scribbled lines beneath it remain a mystery, she feels compelled to express her emotions in tangible form:

 

In smiles, pain conceals its grip,

Tsunamis surge within my eyes , they sweep.

Earthquakes rumble in my voice's sound,

Drought parches my heart, no rain is found .

 

Yet in these depths, a resilience grows,

Beneath the surface, a strength that shows.

Through trials faced, a spirit refined,

In shadows dwells a light, destined to shine.

 

She tossed the pen aside, tears streaming down her face as she let the book slip from her grasp to the floor.

 

Later, Alastor, ever the gentleman, attempts to check in on the Princess. He knocks politely, but there's no response.

 

Yet, he’s a demon in Hell, being a gentleman is just a part of his persona.

 

Transforming into his shadow form, he stealthily slips into the girl's room. Charlie is nestled in her blankets, likely drifting off to sleep, her swollen eyes betraying traces of tears. He reflects for a moment on the fading of her once-radiant smile.

 

The girl harbored an abundance of love, didn't she?

 

He wandered aimlessly, his gaze catching on the journal discarded on the floor. Curiosity peaked, he retrieved it, perusing her latest entry. A smirk tugged at his lips as he closed it, returning it to its original spot.

Glancing back at her as she sighed in slumber, Alastor vanished into the shadows.

 

Ensuring the hotel was in pristine condition for the night, he turned his attention to the corresponding journal, pen in hand. What response to give?

She craved that romantic connection. He abhorred it.

 

That didn’t mean he didn’t know how to, though.

 

In the depths of sorrow, let me smile,

For both of us, let joy beguile.

In the tempest of tears, let me stand,

To calm the storm at your command.

 

Let my presence still your trembling voice,

In your darkest hour, let me be the choice.

Let me be the tempest that fiercely roars,

Yet in its fury, your heart restores.

 

His grin twists deviously as laughter escapes his lips. He anticipates the perplexity that will consume the little princess when she reads his words. She'll be consumed by curiosity, questioning the identity behind the ink. Perhaps she'll suspect Vaggie, but even he acknowledges the ex-exterminator lacks the emotional depth to pen such sentiments.

 

Yet, what he writes isn't driven by genuine feeling. It's merely a showcase of his undeniable talent. Or so he wants to believe.

 

With a decisive snap, he closes the book, eagerly anticipating the dawn's arrival. Ideas swirl in his mind, each one promising to upend her world completely.

 

He relishes the prospect of turning her reality upside down.

Chapter 2: Seeing Red

Chapter by Hazbinstohell (longstorm)

Summary:

Red and Wine

Notes:

My Goodness! Me and Nightmare are so happy that you guys are enjoying this little story! We hope you will keep enjoying!

 

Charlie stirs from her sleep, a foggy sensation enveloping her, a paradox of feeling both rejuvenated yet achy. She mechanically moves through her morning routine, disconnected from her own physical presence. As she slips on her jacket, her eyes catch sight of her abandoned journal on the floor.

 

She stoops to retrieve it, handling it delicately. Flipping it open, she gazes at her previous entry.

 

The ominous dark red ink stains the page once more.

 

Her heart skips a beat as she absorbs the words, a tightening in her chest. Fear creeps in momentarily. Who could have tampered with her private thoughts?

 

But as she revisits the words, she absentmindedly twirls a strand of her hair, a faint smirk gracing her lips.

 

Whoever was on the other end seemed, at the very least, amiable.

 

Descending the stairs, she scans the empty space, a sense of surprise washing over her.

 

“Hello?”

 

Her voice echoes through the silence.

 

“Aha! There you are, my demon belle! How was your slumber?” 

 

A familiar voice greets her as he appears at the foot of the staircase.

 

“Alastor, where is everyone?” 

 

She queries, her tone tinged with concern.

 

Alastor feigns ignorance, glancing around as if searching for the missing individuals, “Well, they must be out and about!”

 

“Alastor…”

 

“I've sent them on a little assignment today-a bit of reconnaissance around town! Thought you might appreciate some solitude. It'll give you a chance to unwind.” 

 

He explains, attempting to reassure her.

 

Charlie meets his gaze, a hint of gratitude in her expression. 

 

“Thanks. But truth be told, I wouldn't mind having something to occupy my mind.”

 

Alastor leads her to their shared office, his enthusiasm palpable, “Totally understandable, my dear! In fact, I've been thinking about something we could invest our time in for our future.”

 

Charlie's eyes fall to her desk, where blueprints lay scattered, “What is it?”

 

Alastor's smile widens, “Imagine this: a haven beyond these walls where residents can find solace. A vibrant garden adorned with exquisite blooms. A sanctuary to escape the rigors of everyday life.”

 

Charlie ponders the notion. A garden? It's been ages since she tended one back home. Despite the challenges of nurturing life in Hell's domain, she cherished the labor of caring for plants, even if only a handful thrived.

 

Her gaze meets Alastor's, who leans casually on her desk, his microphone held in both hands before him. Lost momentarily in her musings, she observes him occupying her space with a confidence that both annoys and intrigues her, a flush creeping onto her cheeks.

 

Lowering her eyes, she finally speaks, “Alastor, it's a wonderful idea, but financially…”

 

Alastor's smirk widens, his head tilting slightly, “If you recall, just a few days ago, I assisted you with that financial document…”

 

Oh, she remembered all too well. His proximity, his hands deftly maneuvering figures and crafting proposals.

 

She interrupts her thoughts, looking up as Alastor continues, “There's funding available to kick-start the project! And with dear old Dad's support, I'm confident we can make it happen, my dear! What do you say?”

 

Charlie examines the projected plans before turning back to Alastor, her disbelief evident, “Are you serious?”

 

Alastor leans in closer, encroaching upon her personal space, yet she remains rooted, unable to retreat, “My dear, I'm willing to contribute funds of my own! Anything to restore you to your lovely former self, darling.”

 

As he reclines back, he observes the hitch in her breath and the swallow she takes, a smirk playing on his lips.

 

Collecting herself, Charlie manages a bright smile, “Alastor...I'm speechless…”

 

Alastor settles comfortably, “No need for words, my dear! Just knowing I've brought that smile back to your face is reward enough.”

 

Once the group reconvenes, Charlie announces the news. Vaggie's gaze meets Charlie's in disbelief, “A garden?”

 

Charlie meets her gaze evenly, “Yes. It's something I've always wanted, and the budget permits it.”

 

Vaggie shakes her head, concern evident in her voice, “Did you consult with everyone before making this decision?”

 

Charlie tenses, “I…”

 

Vaggie interrupts gently, “You know, Charlie, sometimes you…”

 

She pauses, leaning back in her chair.

 

Charlie's expression hardens, “Sometimes I what ?”

 

Avoiding Charlie's eyes, Vaggie murmurs, 

“It's nothing…”

 

But Charlie presses, her frustration mounting, “What do I do or not do, Vaggie?”

 

“Charlie…”

 

“ No . Tell me. You seem to imply I'm neglecting something. Why not share with everyone?”

 

“Charlie, please…”

 

The rest of the crew watches the exchange intently. Niffty and Sir Pentious pretend disinterest, but their curiosity is evident. Angel Dust tugs on Husk's sleeve, trying to draw his attention. Meanwhile, Alastor observes the interaction with keen interest.

 

With a resigned sigh, Vaggie speaks up, “Charlie, you're supposed to be focused on redeeming sinners. They don't need gardens! they need therapy!”

 

Charlie meets Vaggie's gaze with frustration, “And I can't provide that outdoors?”

 

Vaggie throws her hands up in frustration, “They're not children, Charlie!”

 

“I never said they were!” Charlie retorts defensively.

 

Vaggie huffs and storms off to her new room.

 

Charlie stands there, fists clenched in frustration. Alastor approaches her calmly,

“Charlie…”

 

“I need to go…” 

 

She mutters, but Alastor follows her as she dashes up the stairs.

 

“Remember, it's your hotel.” He calls after her as she disappears. 

 

Angel Dust sidles up to him, concern etched on his face, “I'm starting to think Vaggie did something. What do you think, Smiles?”

 

Alastor remains silent, waiting.

 

Meanwhile, Charlie collapses onto her bed, a mixture of upset and anger coursing through her. She hurls a heart-shaped pillow against the wall, the echo of Vaggie's words ringing in her ears.

 

She ponders Vaggie's accusation. Did she smother her? Was she neglecting her? Perhaps she was the one pushing Vaggie away.

 

As her thoughts drift to the garden, a glimmer of excitement flickers within her. She could create something truly beautiful, a sanctuary for the residents to find solace in.

 

At least Alastor understood her vision. She groans, burying her face in her arm. Alastor, who had shown some willingness to see the hotel thrive. She reflects on his words about bringing a smile back to her face, his claim to being the one responsible for it.

 

She sighed deeply, willing herself to take slow, steady breaths until she regained composure. Pushing herself upright, she made her way to her desk, her eyes drawn to her journal resting there.

 

The stark contrast between the red and pink ink catches her attention, causing her thoughts to swirl. The words on the page, a clear response to her melancholy, hint at someone's desire to alleviate her sadness.

With determination, she reaches for the pink pen and begins to dictate:

 

In the midst of shattered dreams, loss entwined,

Do you not witness this heart, breaking, resigned?

Claim it, seize it, wretch me from this fray,

Consume me whole, let me wither away.

Beneath the cloak of darkness, bury my shrine,

Engulfed in flames, let my hopes decline.

Feast upon my sorrows, my shattered plight,

In this crimson haze, all fades from sight.

All I see is red, in the embers' glow,

A fiery dance, in the night's shadow.

The crimson tide, it ebbs and flows,

In its depths, my anguish grows.

Red like the blood that stains my hands,

A testament to broken plans.

In this scarlet symphony, I find my solace,

Amidst the ashes, where dreams deface.

Red like the heart that beats within,

A reminder of where it all begins.

In the silence of red, I find release,

In its depths, I find my peace.

 

She gazes at the page momentarily. The crimson hue jumps out, a manifestation of her anger. It mirrors the red from the adjacent poem, amplifying her emotions. Briefly, she finds herself adrift in a crimson sea. Closing her eyes, she sees the red of his eyes, his coat, his hair...Turning back to the paper, she resolves to press on.

 

In the silence of truth, I see red,

Not the anger, but an unspoken thread.

Words on paper, in crimson hue,

Whispering secrets, old and new.

Red blends seamlessly, revealing clues,

In a tapestry of tales, it imbues.

A rose blooms in a garden's embrace,

Stained red, a symbol of grace.

Each petal tells a story untold,

In the language of red, mysteries unfold.

A crimson path, both bold and true,

Guiding me forward to what I pursue.

 

Charlie gazes down at the poem, pondering. Does it possess the ability to respond? Must she close it first?

 

With a sigh, she shuts the book, pausing for a moment. Upon reopening it, she finds emptiness staring back at her.

 

A frustrated huff escapes Charlie's lips, her hopes for sage advice dashed by reality. Wishful thinking, she realizes.

 

Returning everything to its place, Charlie glides back out into the hall.

 

At the far end, she catches a glimpse of Vaggie. For a fleeting moment, Charlie anticipates words of conversation.

 

They don't come, and with her chin held high, Charlie strides past Vaggie. It's a symbolic gesture, a cleansing of her past in an effort to move forward. Or so she attempts.

 

Alastor observes as Vaggie ascends some time later. The intricacies of her relationship with Charlie hold little interest for him. Yet, a sense of something weightier looms, and Vaggie appears burdened with guilt.

 

"Poor Charlie," he muses silently, a flicker of empathy for her desire for love and reciprocation.

 

With a theatrical flourish, Alastor finally retires for the evening, settling into his room. The notion of jazz and tea strikes him as fitting, and he sets about procuring the necessary ingredients. However, his attention is diverted when he notices the journal resting on his desk.

 

Could she have written already? It feels early in the night, yet a surge of anticipation washes over him at the thought of her words gracing its pages.

 

Picking up the journal, he flips to the latest entry, greeted by the sight of her elegant pink script. As he reads the poem, laughter bubbles up from within him, rich and resonant.

 

"Well... perhaps it's time to add a touch more red to her world." He muses to himself.

 

Seizing the pen, he prepares to write his response, eager to play his part in the unfolding narrative.

 

Crimson, a languid stream of my yearnings,

Dripping from the petals of that rose unfurling.

Ruby hues, morphing into maroon's embrace,

Cardinal whispers of words left untraced.

Scarlet nights, adorned with fresh delights,

Tinged with Merlot and currants, sensual sights.

In sheets of crimson, our passions entwine.

 

He halts, puzzled by the unexpected intensity of the emotions stirred by the territory. Yet, a smirk tugs at his lips as he imagines her reaction—reading the words, her cheeks flushed with a delicate hue.

Another shade of red to join the collection.

With a sigh, he closes the journal, reclining and gazing at the ceiling. It's uncharted territory he's entering, one he hadn't anticipated traversing. But Charlie's wounded heart calls for something more than mere comfort. To kindle a flame within her would serve her well. To incite a hunger that burns deep.

 

He reminds himself, as he delves deeper into this unfamiliar realm, not to let the flames consume him in the process.

 

In the early morning light, Vaggie raps gently on Charlie's door. Startled, Charlie answers, greeted by Vaggie's searching gaze.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Sorry to bother you. I think I left something here."

 

Charlie's brow furrows, "I didn't notice anything."

Vaggie sighs, "It's... under the bed."

 

Curious, Charlie opens the door wider, gesturing for Vaggie to enter. Peering into the hallway, she spots a flash of red... Alastor. Their eyes meet, his grin widening. Charlie smirks. 

 

"Well, hello there.”

 

"Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?"  He inquired, though the sensation of nails tracing his back compelled him to stand tall, fully attentive as Vaggie's voice echoed from within.

 

Charlie glanced at Alastor, momentarily puzzled, then refocused on Vaggie's urgency.

"Charlie, I can't seem to find the box I had under here." 

 

Vaggie fretted, her search growing frantic.

 

Charlie turned, genuine confusion knitting her brows, "I didn't know there was a box under there."

 

Vaggie's irritation flared, her gaze sharp as she retorted, "Seriously? It's a black box! Surely, you've noticed it!"

 

Alastor strolled past Charlie, his voice tinged with amusement, "Perhaps it's simply been misplaced."

 

Vaggie's eyes darted between them, a mix of confusion and frustration evident, "Why... why is he here?"

 

Alastor's smirk widened. 

 

"Why are you? Rumor has it, you and Charlie are no longer on friendly terms."

 

Vaggie huffed, resuming her search, "Whatever. I just... I needed that box.”

 

Charlie moved past Alastor, approaching Vaggie by the bed, "Vaggie, I swear I don't have it. Can you please-”

 

"No. It's just a box. Maybe Niffty took it while cleaning." 

 

Vaggie interrupted, rising abruptly and angrily sweeping items off her desk. She glanced at the scattered mess, a hint of regret crossing her face before she hurried off, muttering about finding the box.

 

Charlie observed her for a moment, a pang of sympathy tugging at her. Alastor, meanwhile, speculated whether tears would fall, but instead, he found himself fixated on the sight of her biting her lip, pondering the sensation it might offer.

 

Shaking off those thoughts, Alastor joined Charlie in tidying up, his hand landing on the journal. She eyed him cautiously, half-expecting him to leaf through its pages. Instead, he simply placed it delicately on her desk, his demeanor nonchalant. With the mess cleared, Charlie and Alastor stepped back, restoring order to the room.

 

"Thanks, Al," Charlie expressed her gratitude.

 

Alastor shrugged, his tone tinged with disapproval. "My dear, it was rather impolite of your ex-girlfriend. I'm uncertain what's come over her lately."

 

Charlie shook her head, frustration evident. "If only she'd let me help her understand. I could make things better."

 

Alastor turned to her, his expression a mix of surprise and admonishment. "Charlie, you're giving her too much credit! Relationships require effort from both sides. Communication isn't solely your responsibility."

 

Charlie met his gaze, arms crossed defensively. "I just wish things could return to how they were."

 

Alastor approached her, his touch gentle as he brushed a few strands of hair behind her shoulder. "Darling, what even is 'normal' in Hell?"

 

Charlie leaned in, laughter bubbling up as she looked back at him, a sense of camaraderie shared. 

 

"Come on, let's get going, you delightful demon belle…"

 

Alastor remained by her side throughout the day, a silent guardian as Vaggie appeared preoccupied. Charlie delegated tasks to Husk, taking charge of cleaning the bar area herself.

She found solace in the monotony of routine tasks, like scrubbing the bar with determination, a sense of achievement washing over her akin to tending a garden.

 

Yet today, her heart wasn't in it.

 

Vaggie's enigmatic demeanor weighed heavily on her, as did the cryptic verses that seemed to materialize on the pages of her journal. But last night... it felt different. As if someone or something beckoned to her from the depths, a connection she couldn't quite grasp.

 

Those mysterious words responded to her own, intertwining in a dance of shared expression. But the identity of her silent correspondent remained elusive.

 

Charlie had concluded it couldn't possibly be a member of the crew. No one among them would dare speak with such... intimacy.

Sighing, she polished the bar once more, ensuring it gleamed for Husk's return the next day. Startled by the unexpected touch, she jumped, only to groan as Alastor revealed himself with a chuckle.

 

"Apologies, darling. I couldn't resist." 

 

He teased, his presence a familiar comfort amidst the uncertainty.

 

Charlie shot Alastor an irritated glance, "I'm sure you couldn't resist."

 

Leaning over the bar, Alastor's face hovered inches from hers, "And why, may I ask, is our esteemed hotel owner scrubbing the bar at this ungodly hour?"

 

Alastor couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment when he realized another poem hadn't surfaced in the journal. It had become a curious highlight of his days.

 

Charlie resumed her cleaning, trying to ignore his presence as she worked, "I simply enjoy the labor."

 

Alastor grinned, reclining slightly with his chin propped on his hand, "Surely a blue blood like yourself has never had to lift a finger?"

 

Charlie scoffed, tossing the rag aside and leaning forward, matching his proximity, "My blood is as sinful as any other, sir. There's no need for aristocratic airs."

 

Undeterred, Alastor's smile widened, "Indeed, you've proven that time and time again here at the hotel. The royals should be clamoring for your guidance."

 

Charlie met his gaze with a deadpan expression as he chuckled to himself. Then, she leaned in further, resting her elbows on the bar and propping her chin on her fists. 

"Perhaps that's my plan. To overthrow all of Hell and reshape it in my image?”

 

Alastor shot her a mock-annoyed look, and she couldn't help but giggle, "Oops. Forgot. That's your thing, isn't it?"

 

Her laughter filled the air, but she quickly averted her gaze. Alastor couldn't suppress a smirk at her playful remark. As he glanced around, his eyes settled on the wine rack nearby. Without hesitation, he retrieved a bottle, his coat shifting with his movement, revealing his shoulders beneath it. Charlie's attention momentarily flickered to him before returning to the floor.

 

With practiced ease, Alastor poured two glasses. Charlie hesitated, her resolve wavering, "Al, I really shouldn't."

 

"Just a sip, my dear. This Merlot is quite exquisite,” He urged, holding out a glass enticingly.

 

Charlie's eyes darted between the glass and Alastor, a fleeting memory of the poem surfacing in her mind. But the temptation proved too strong, and she reached for the glass, rationalizing it was barely a sip. She met Alastor's gaze, a mixture of reluctance and curiosity in her eyes.

 

"To new beginnings, my dear. To new relationships and prospects!" 

 

Alastor declared, his smile infectious.

 

Charlie smirked in response, nodding. 

"To new prospects."

 

They clinked their glasses together, sharing a moment of camaraderie before bidding each other good night.

 

Later, Charlie slipped into bed wearing her red pajamas, stifling a yawn. Despite the lingering heaviness in her heart, today had been marginally better. As she reached for her journal, she pondered what to write next.

For several moments, she hesitated, her cheeks tinged with a blush, before finally putting pen to paper.

 

In the hush of night, softly sip me,

Draw me close to your lips, let me slip free.

Drunk on whispers, our souls intertwined,

Lingering on the edge of love, undefined.

With each taste, a symphony of desire,

Lustful flames, leaping higher and higher.

Dangerously, you linger, lips aglow,

Savoring the essence, letting passions flow.

Intoxicated on words, on dreams untold,

In this dance of longing, our hearts enfold.

So drink deeply, from this cup divine,

For in each sip, our love does intertwine.

 

She chuckles softly at the quaint poem, relishing the anonymity of her journal's confessional pages. Thoughts of Alastor dance in her mind like swirling wine, a reminder that perhaps he's not as villainous as Vaggie insists. There's no harm in entertaining such musings; after all, guilt has no place in the sanctuary of her private thoughts.

 

Closing the book with a gentle thud, she places it on the nightstand before settling in for the night.

 

Meanwhile, Alastor savors the last drops of his wine, granting her solitude as he retreats to his own chambers. Glancing briefly at the journal, he chooses to focus instead on the intricacies of his latest proposal.

 

For an hour, he diligently works, periodically glancing up at the book resting on his desk, exactly where it belongs. Tapping his pen against the paper, he's determined to finish his task within the hour.

 

With a decisive motion, he reaches for the book and opens it, immersing himself in her poem once more.

 

Alastor, a formidable demonic presence known for his power and ability to vanquish demons with a mere snap of his fingers, finds himself unexpectedly drawn into the verses. As he reads, his mind drifts back to the moment he observed her sipping wine, the subtle gesture of her tongue grazing her lips lingering in his thoughts. What once seemed insignificant now sparks an imagined intimacy-a stolen kiss in the shadows.

 

Frustration mounts as he slams the book shut. How could a few words evoke such forbidden desires for this supposed Princess? Is she merely grasping for something lost, or could these feelings be a manifestation of something deeper, perhaps even latent affection for him?

 

He chuckles at the notion, shaking his head in amusement as he retrieves the journal once more, exhaling deeply.

 

Flipping it open, he carefully reads the passage once again before reaching for the crimson pen he reserved for moments like these, poised to make his mark.

 

In the dance of desires, we entwine,

A symphony of senses, yours and mine.

Your lips, a sweet indulgence, divine,

In the journey of passion, we intertwine.

With every kiss, your neck I trace,

Captivated by your every embrace.

Your breath, a melody, quickens its pace,

In the rhythm of love, we find our place.

You surrender to me, your trust profound,

In the depths of your soul, I am bound.

Guide me, your whispers, a gentle sound,

In the sanctuary of our love, we are crowned.

The taste of you, a delicious decree,

A banquet of pleasures, set us free.

To devour all of you, an ecstasy,

In the union of souls, we find eternity.

 

Alastor gazes at the poem, a sensation envelops him, vaguely familiar yet distinctly novel, stirring his curiosity.

 

Accustomed to the notion of conquest, he finds himself drawn to a new concept: merging with her, becoming intertwined. It's the intimacy she longs to share…

 

Closing the book gently, Alastor returns the pen to its place. Sensing a surge of lust-filled frustration and a perplexing yearning, he resolves to venture out.

 

For the moment, he allows the words to pirouette across the pages, entrusting her heart to cradle them

Notes:

Leave us a comment, if you'd like! It always gives us great delight!

Chapter 3: A Beautiful Flower

Chapter by Hazbinstohell (longstorm)

Summary:

Dad's got the proposal. Charlie tries to reason with Vaggie. Alastor is a tease.

As she awakens, her phone's cheerful ringtone pierces through the veil of her rather lustful dreams, the tone reminiscent of a lively circus overture...

 

And indeed they were vivid dreams. First, the enigmatic stranger's cryptic messages in her journal, followed by contemplations of her manager's proximity and his dedicated efforts to assist her hotel. His closeness at the bar felt dangerously intimate, a situation that would surely displease Husk if discovered.

 

Yet, it was merely harmless conversation, albeit tinged with an unspoken tension. Charlie recalls the moment he filled her glass, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that lingered.

 

Perhaps it was merely a distraction from something else she longed for?

 

Vaggie's aloofness only heightened Charlie's sense of unease, as if something were amiss.

 

Answering with a groggy, just-awoken voice, she murmured, "Hello?"

 

"Charlie, my delightful apple pie! Did I disturb your slumber?"

 

Lucifer Morningstar, ever the morning enthusiast, seemed unfazed by the early hour.

 

"Yeah, it's fine. What's on your mind?"

 

"Nothing dire, my dear! I simply wished to indulge in some casual conversation. Would that be acceptable?”

 

Charlie closes her eyes and reclines, her voice softening, "Sure, Dad."

 

"First... I heard you and Maggie had a falling out?" 

 

His tone carries genuine concern.

 

Charlie exhales sharply, ignoring how he mis said her name, "Yeah. Something happened. She moved to another room. I just... I don't want to delve into it right now."

 

Emotions well up inside her, prompting her to rise abruptly. On the other end of the line, her father offers a sympathetic nod. 

 

"Okay, Char Char. I'm sorry. Um..."

 

He falters, and Charlie, sensing his hesitation, rolls her eyes, her gaze landing on her journal resting on the nightstand.

 

Had there been a reply?

 

With eager anticipation, Charlie grabs the journal, hoping to find a response from her mysterious correspondent. Just as she begins flipping through its pages, Lucifer's voice suddenly breaks through the phone line, "So, about this proposal I received this morning?"

 

"Uh huh..." 

 

Charlie murmurs absentmindedly, her attention fully absorbed by the new poem she's reading. With delicate fingers, she traces the inked words, allowing the passage to envelop her.

 

A swell of emotion fills her, a delightful sensation bubbling up from within. She bites her lip, anticipation tingling through her veins in a way she struggles to articulate. The poem ignites a desire within her, a feeling she finds both exhilarating and indescribable.

 

However, her reverie is abruptly interrupted when Lucifer captures her attention, "Who sent this to me? Did you arrange for it to be delivered? It arrived at like... 4 in the morning? Who does that?”

 

Charlie narrows her eyes, "Oh. I didn't... But maybe Alastor?"

 

Lucifer's voice carries the sound of shuffling papers before he groans, "That bastard..."

 

"Dad..."

 

"I'm not entertaining a proposal from that guy!" Lucifer's laughter drips with disdain, "Probably some nonsense he cooked up."

 

Charlie's brow furrows, "Wait... the garden?"

 

Silence hangs on the line momentarily, broken only by the rustling of papers as Lucifer responds, "Uh... yeah."

 

"Wait! No, hold on! That's our proposal!" 

 

Charlie interjects, her frustration palpable. There's a pause before Lucifer repeats incredulously, "Your what? Proposal?"

 

"Ugh, yes, Dad! Alastor and I want to create a garden for the hotel.”

 

"He doesn't strike me as the flower lover type." 

 

Lucifer mumbles, but his daughter's firm voice pulls him back.

 

"Alastor was trying to lift my spirits about Vaggie. He proposed the garden idea. I miss the gardens back home..."

 

"They're still here! Haven't gone anywhere. You could always... visit?" 

 

Lucifer suggests half-heartedly.

 

"But having it here means I can share it with our guests! Plus, Alastor mentioned he'd assist with funding." Charlie explains eagerly.

 

"Why is he being so helpful all of a sudden?" Lucifer mutters.

 

"Are you seriously asking that? He knows I'm going through a rough patch, and for once, he's being kind." Charlie retorts, frustration evident in her tone. 

 

Lucifer sighs heavily on the other end of the line, "Listen, Charlie, the other friends you've made, they're fine. But him? I don't trust him."

 

"What do you think he wants, Dad? Just because he's... quirky?"

 

"Charlie, he's a serial killer and a cannibal. Why are you defending him?" 

 

Charlie exhales sharply in frustration, "Because he's still a part of my team! All you care about is whether he's interested in me romantically. You don't see that maybe, just maybe, he's supporting me through a difficult time!?"

 

"Okay, okay. You have a point. How about you introduce me to the idea in person later? Maybe over lunch?"

 

Charlie sighs and nods reluctantly, "Yeah. Okay."

 

After exchanging goodbyes, she hangs up the phone, throws her hands over her eyes, and collapses onto her bed, landing beside her journal.

 

She glances over at the journal and retrieves it, rereading the passage once more. The frustration with her father's narrow perspective boils within her.

 

Sitting up, she seizes the journal and, this time, grabs a red pen of her own. With determination fueling her, she begins to write…

 

In the shadows of a moonlit night,

Whispers of temptation dance around.

Does it feel good, to bask in the sight,

Of dreams shattered, on the ground?

 

It beckons me, with promises so grand,

To take away what's rightfully mine.

Yet, in the devil's wicked hand,

I see a glint, a sinister sign.

 

The tormentor, in dark attire,

Fears for my soul's fragile flame.

What irony, in his concerns dire,

As he fans the embers of my shame.

 

But what of the one I abhor,

Seeking to pull me back in his snare?

With temptations galore, knocking on my door, Offering sin as a burden to bear.

 

His hands in my hair, lips on my skin,

A master of seduction's art.

Wouldn't it bring a twisted grin,

To see me ensnared in his heart?

 

He worships me as a deity divine,

A daughter of defiance and fire.

His touch a prayer, a sacred line,

Etched upon my soul's desire.

 

And as he delves deep into my mind,

I see a glimmer of truth unfold.

In his touch, in the love I find,

A strength in my own story retold.

 

So let me embrace this dance of sin,

Let me revel in the darkness and light.

For in the chaos, a rebirth begins,

And in my defiance, I claim my might.

 

As she replaces the pen, a sigh escapes her lips, preparing herself for her father's impending arrival. There's a pressing need to alert her business partner.

 

Meanwhile, Alastor seamlessly transitions into his morning routine, swiftly dispatching a proposal with the hope that Lucifer won't stir up trouble for Charlie. 

 

His breakfast awaits in his chamber, a familiar scene as he pursues the morning paper, relying solely on print media and the radio for news updates. Yet, amidst his routine, thoughts of Charlie intrude. 

 

He knows he shouldn't entertain them, but they persist-her voice echoing in his mind, sometimes soft and reverent, other times desperate and anguished. The memory of her latest poem lingers, sparking forbidden ideas within him.

 

Deciding to refocus on the day ahead, he thought a quick glance at the poem wouldn't hurt.

 

To his astonishment, a new verse in bold red ink awaited him, revealing bolder sentiments in her script-a pleasant surprise tainted by what followed.

 

As he reads, two realizations strike him.

 

Firstly, Lucifer's early contact with his daughter triggers a sneer, noting the shift in her mood induced by her father. The inadequacy of Lucifer's nurturing rankles Alastor, who harbors a deep disdain for the man despite his omnipotence, believing him incapable of tending to his daughter's spirit.

 

Secondly, the mention of Charlie and Lucifer in conjunction with himself prompts speculation about their conversation, particularly concerning his relationship with the princess.

 

Not only that, but the words were dripping with her evident desire-passionate and undeniably sexual.

 

He was getting under her skin, especially considering whatever conversation she had with her father.

 

He chuckled at the sheer audacity of it all. This girl, the Princess of Hell, composing a letter to her father, the Devil himself, expressing her desire for Alastor himself in the throes of passion?

 

It was absolutely delightful, setting the tone for his entire morning. Nothing could dampen his spirits.

 

Until he strolled into the hall, only to be greeted by a frantic Charlie, "Hey, we need to talk."

 

"Well, you certainly look disheveled, darling! What's the matter?"

 

"My father is on his way here, today, to discuss matters.”

 

Alastor's countenance shifts abruptly from tranquility to a menacing sneer, a transformation not lost on Charlie. She approaches him, delicately taking his hand in hers. 

 

"Don't. He's here to discuss our plans for the garden. Despite... our disparities, let's collaborate to achieve this, shall we?"

 

Alastor meets her gaze, then glances down at her hand on his own. It's tender, meant to soothe, yet it ignites a searing ache within him. When she moves to withdraw her hand, he retains it in his grasp. 

 

"My dear, I am committed to working alongside you to earn your father's endorsement. Remember, I am prepared to go to any lengths to witness..."

 

Charlie's eyes flicker towards Vaggie's approach down the hall, but swiftly return to Alastor. His grip on her hand tightens. 

 

"...To witness your smile, my dearest.”

 

As Vaggie strides past them, Charlie leans in closer to Alastor than necessary. 

 

"Thanks, Al. You've been incredibly kind."

 

Charlie feels conflicted by their interaction, yet the firm hold of his hand on hers reminds her of the tantalizing poetry exchanged between her and the mysterious correspondent. The urge to touch, a temptation just within reach.

 

A deep blush spreads across her cheeks as she expresses her gratitude, fully aware of Vaggie's observation.

 

A mischievous smirk tugs at her lips at the thought, and Alastor quickly catches on. Leaning forward, he whispers in her ear, making sure that if Vaggie turns back, he’d look like he has embraced her.

 

Ofcourse, Vaggie does.

 

"She paused to eavesdrop. Turned back, but now she's departing."

 

Pulling back, he announces loudly. 

 

"My dear! Such a preposterous notion! I shall remain until this matter with your father is settled!”

 

Vaggie tenses before swiftly descending the stairs.

 

Alastor smirks, amused, while Charlie suppresses a giggle. Observing her, Alastor hears Charlie whisper.

 

"I shouldn't indulge in pettiness."

 

Alastor's grin widens. 

 

"Then allow me to indulge on behalf of us both!"

 

Charlie rolls her eyes and releases his hand, going to return to the common areas. However, Alastor gently pulls her back. 

 

"Today, I vow that your father will have no option but to endorse the garden."

 

His grip initially firm on her forearm, Alastor's touch softens as he caresses her skin with his thumb. 

 

"If he doesn't, rest assured I won't let that hinder me from securing what..." 

 

He pauses before saying  “I”, correcting himself 

 

"...you desire."

 

Charlie regards him for a moment before whispering, 

 

"Perhaps you secretly covet that garden."

 

Alastor tilts his head, a hint of amusement in his gaze. 

 

"I'm certain it's splendor will be worth it.”

 

Charlie's breath catches as Angel Dust calls out to her, releasing her from his grip. As she drifts away, he straightens himself, steeling for Lucifer's impending visit.

 

Lucifer finally arrives at the hotel just past lunchtime, grumbling about his unsatisfactory meal. He embraces his daughter tightly, momentarily stealing her breath.

 

"Hi, Dad!" 

 

Charlie manages to squeak out, exhaling when they part. Lucifer then acknowledges the others who have gathered around, addressing them as guests and patrons.

 

Rolling his eyes, Angel Dust announces his departure, prompting others to follow suit.

 

As Vaggie makes to leave, Lucifer calls out to her, mistakenly addressing her as "Maggie."

 

"It's... Vaggie, sir." 

 

She corrects him, prompting Charlie to discreetly signal for her father to stop.

 

Realizing his mistake, Lucifer redirects his attention to Charlie and Vaggie, sensing tension between them.

 

Alastor intervenes smoothly, offering to show Lucifer Charlie's vision for the garden. 

 

Lucifer scrutinizes the exchange before finally conceding, allowing Vaggie to depart with a sigh, leaving the others to enjoy their time together.

 

Charlie relaxes as she faces her father, who wears a disapproving frown. 

 

"I just wanted to try and reason with her. You can't simply let her go without reason! What if she's harboring a significant secret she can't share, and that's why she's avoiding you!?"

 

"Dad, you-"

 

Alastor steps in, grasping Charlie's hand in his own. 

 

"Charlie has an intriguing notion about aiding the sinners in the garden through therapy!"

 

Charlie gazes at Alastor, grateful for his support in this moment. She feels a surge of affection towards him, leaning subtly into his presence as he converses with her father.

 

Observing their interaction, Lucifer reaches for Charlie's hand. 

 

"Show me your ideas, Charlie! I'm eager to see them! I've heard the one at home is splendid!”

 

Alastor reluctantly follows them out, his expression contorted in disdain.

 

As Charlie discusses various ideas for the garden, Alastor remains steadfastly by her side, offering unwavering support.

 

"And perhaps some roses here?”

 

Charlie suggests.

 

Alastor's smirk grows. 

 

"Darling, roses would undoubtedly enhance any spot, but imagine the joy of opening your balcony to the delicate scent of lilies as you step out in the morning."

 

Charlie's gaze lifts to meet his. 

 

"I... they're my favorite!"

 

Alastor's smile widens. 

 

"I know, darling. They're exquisite, especially when they unfurl their pink blooms, so delicate and fragrant."

 

Lost in his words, Charlie finds herself captivated as their eyes lock, his description painting a vivid picture of the blooming flowers.

 

Lucifer interjects, rolling his eyes as he steps between them. 

 

"Lilies can be quite temperamental in the heat.”

 

Alastor's smirk deepens as his eyes lock with Charlie's.

 

"Nonsense. They only require the right caretaker."

 

Lucifer glances at his daughter, noticing her breath catching. Alastor continues to smirk as Charlie regains her focus, guiding her father to the area where she envisions a fountain.

 

As Charlie elaborates on her ideas for additional flowers, Lucifer's interest wanes. Alastor steps forward, interjecting, 

 

"Charlie believes that providing a neutral space for sinners to enjoy themselves is essential. She envisions a garden where she can share its beauty with others, while the most exquisite flower is already being tended to."

 

Lucifer furrows his brow. 

 

"You have flowers in the hotel?"

 

Alastor's smirk widens. 

 

"Indeed. It's exquisite, resilient, and decadent. A delightful attraction for all our patrons."

 

Lucifer's curiosity peaked, he asks. 

 

"Can I see it?"

 

Alastor smirks, looking towards Charlie, “I believe you already have.”

 

Charlie steals a moment to exchange glances with Alastor. Blushing, she averts her gaze as he continues to smirk. With a trembling hand, she brushes aside some stray hair, attempting to regain her composure.

 

She’s feeling a bit flustered by his praise for her beauty, comparing her to a flower. She assumes it’s directed at her, but Lucifer interrupts with a clearing of his throat.

 

"Char?" 

 

Looking at her father, she explains. 

 

"Dad, I have to head back soon, but what do you think?" 

 

Lucifer then shifts his gaze to both Charlie and Alastor, who meets his stare head-on. After a brief moment of silence, Lucifer questions.

 

"Why are you providing start-up funds?" 

 

Alastor calmly places his hands behind his back, replying. 

 

"As a gesture of gratitude to dear Charlie. She never wavers in her belief in us here at the hotel, always welcoming us despite the Hellscape you preside over. If I could, I would give her everything." 

 

Charlie looks away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and attraction. She tries to brush off her turn on, convincing herself that Alastor is simply putting on a show for her father's benefit.

 

Lucifer, however, chuckles. 

 

“Well, she doesn’t need your money. Dad’s doing just fine.”

 

Charlie gazes up, incredulous. 

 

“Dad... you can't foot the bill for everything!”

 

Lucifer nonchalantly shrugs.

 

“Why not? I'm more than capable.”

 

Charlie shakes her head firmly. 

 

“I won’t accept it as a handout. Initial startup funds are sufficient. Alastor and I will manage the rest.”

 

Lucifer studies them both with a narrowed gaze before relenting, 

 

“Fine. Fine. Let me review your finances again, and I'll reach out to some contacts for estimates.”

 

Charlie's face lights up. 

 

“Really? That's fantastic!”

 

Lucifer grins. 

 

“Why not join me for dinner tonight? I’m sure your patrons can fend for themselves. You can talk to me more about…this. And your uh, situationship.”

 

Charlie glances at Alastor, who inclines his head, his grin stretching in disdain.

 

He should be the one inviting her out.

 

Charlie returns a gentle smile, walking over to him, and he mirrors it, 

 

“Al, would it be alright if you handle things here? I need to discuss some with my father about Vaggie and me.”

 

Alastor pretends to look touched, guiding her back to Lucifer slowly with a reassuring hand on her lower back.

 

“My dear, cherish this time with your father. You deserve it.”

 

No, Lucifer didn't merit spending time with his daughter, but this charade had to be upheld. 

 

"I'll manage everything and everyone here! Let that clever mind of yours rest."

 

Charlie's smile brightens, and he beams proudly at her. 

 

"A flower couldn't hold a candle to you, darling."

 

Charlie lets out a snicker, cutting through the facade. 

 

"You don't need to keep covering for my Dad."

 

"Charlie, have I ever deceived you?"

 

Charlie overhears her father's voice, her expression turning to disbelief. Alastor bids her a good night.

 

As the day winds down, he reflects on her words, the desire in her voice for adoration, to be worshiped...

 

...Pressed down with hands and lips.

 

After dealing with Angel Dust and Nifty's antics, the atmosphere settles. The patrons and crew disperse, leaving Alastor alone in his room. He picks up the journal and begins his own entry.

 

Is that what you crave? 

To be worshiped and touched? 

To feel the gentle caress, the tender touch, 

To be stirred and awakened, then left to fall, 

Into the abyss where desires call.

 

To be taken, and in the taking, broken, 

To feel your body yield, every sense awoken, 

As your back arches in sweet surrender, 

Longing for release, in moments tender.

 

Needy and flushed, your heart's desire revealed, 

Love's letters imprinted, on souls congealed, 

Submitting willingly, begging for more, 

In this dance of passion, longing to explore

 

Alastor closed the book, his gaze lingering on its pages, thoughts drifting to her presence, her touch, and the words he had penned. 

 

Sensing a stirring within him, he suppressed a growl, redirecting his focus to other matters, determined to quell the distraction. 

 

Her intoxicating essence permeated his every thought, weaving its way through the fabric of his mind.

 

Later that night he ventures out, determined to keep his mind occupied, until he hears the front door open. Charlie steps into the foyer, a sigh and a look that she is tired. He stays in the shadows a moment, wondering if she’ll go straight to bed.

 

But instead he hears the Princess speak softly, “Vaggie?”

 

He didn’t even notice her, who seemed to have been waiting around.

 

Vaggie looks up at Charlie and is a bit shocked, “You were out late.”

 

Charlie looks at her thoughtfully, “Me and my Dad had dinner. We had a long conversation about the hotel and some things.”

 

“Or you just told them how I was terrible?”

 

She looks at Vaggie with a sad expression. She should be angry, but instead the Princess tries to speak, “No. I believe that maybe it was me.”

 

Vaggie narrows her eyes, “You?”

 

Charlie frowns, “Yeah. I think with the hotel I didn’t really focus on us. And I’m sorry.”

 

Alastor rolls his eyes, Charlie didn’t need to put herself so far down. She deserved praise, she deserved adoration. She was Princess of Hell! The ones below her should be falling to their knees.

 

Vaggie shifts her feet, “Listen…it’s not that.”

 

Charlie begs, “Then, just tell me?! I feel bad and…I just. I’m not asking for you back but I want to remain friends! I promise I won’t judge.”

 

Vaggie looks at her with a sad look, “Listen, I just…I’m still looking for that box.”

 

Alastor looks to the opposite end of the hall, his shadow on the wall. A nod, and the shadow is gone, a silent command to find said box.

 

Charlie huffs, “I just…with everything that has been between us. I just want to end it on honesty. When you are ready, I’m here.”

 

Vaggie sighs, “Night, Charlie.”

 

Charlie watches her walk away, when she notices the red glimmer of eyes on the balcony. She walks up to meet him.

 

He has his hands at his back when he greets her, “Do you always put yourself so low in your relationships, my dear?”

 

Charlie leans on the rail, “Just… never had one that wanted me for me, I’m beginning to notice.”

 

Alastor smirks, “I’m sure someone is out there that will find all the things the Princess of Hell does amusing.”

 

Charlie looks down, nodding slowly, tired and emotionally exhausted, “Yeah. I’m going to go to bed, It’s late.”

 

“Darling, you will find someone that puts your aspirations at the top of the list. This is just a hurdle you will have to work through.”

 

Charlie stands up, looking at Alastor, “Have you been in any relationships in this life or last?”

 

He looks at her for a moment, lost in a thought, and looks back forward, “No one has been the one that does it for me, darling.”

 

He’d never thought the devil’s daughter would evoke those kinds of emotions. But maybe what his soul was, wretched and awful, it would belong to someone like her.

 

Charlie sighs and stands, she boldly places her hand on the upper part of his arm, and he looks at her hand carefully, “Good night, Al.”

 

She just about lets go when he grabs it, bringing it back to his lips. His lips barely touch her knuckles, but it’s small and makes her feel hot…

 

“Good night, darling.”

 

He lets go, and she slides her hand right out of his.

 

He watches her go, her blush a delicious look on her as she retires.

 

He could have done much more, and the girl would have probably allowed it, but his shadow appears. A box in its hands, “Nifty?”

 

It nods.

 

“Good. Looks like tonight there will be some light reading.” Alastor’s smile is devious as he takes the box, walking back to his own suite.

 

Charlie goes to her room, and she bites her lip for a moment. Her hand tingles from where his lips ghosted over her hand. Deciding to do something, she decides a bath is in order.

 

Drawing a bath from her lavish bathroom, she grabs a robe, undressing and throwing it on as she waits. She goes to her desk, taking out her ties in her hair and looks down.

 

The journal calls to her almost self consciously, and she smirks, grabbing it and opening it to just see if there is anything new.

 

There is almost excitement as she reads the new passage.

 

Her face flushes at its words. She was angry this morning, but this was much different. She rubs at her neck, the thought that whoever is writing is talking about her submitting, touching, worshiping.

 

What would it be like for someone to want her so that they’d worship her?

 

Her mind wanders as she recalls the touch of her hand to Alastor’s. His gentle kiss to her knuckles. Would he even want to touch her like that? She imagined he’d be rough, making her beg and plead for mercy.

 

She swallows hard, running back to the bath to stop the tap. She stands back up and grabs a clip to hold her hair up. Standing there she can’t help but think about the writer of the poem, and how her thoughts of the poems intermingled with thoughts of Alastor.

 

She slowly undoes the robe, stepping into the warm water. She sits, allowing herself a quiet moment to think. She leans on the side, allowing herself to try to wash her troubles away.

 

She can’t help but to think however of soft caresses down her neck, the feeling of long fingers traveling south to touch her in places she wants to be touched and held.

 

Held and loved.

 

With a sigh she finishes her bath, again back in her robe as she begins her new routine. She dresses in her pajamas, she takes the journal and jumps onto her bed, lightly bouncing as she opens it and decides to write, 

 

Touch me, gently and masterfully,

Undress me, burn my skin with your fingers.

Take me to those dark places in your mind.

Tender holds, palms pressed on your chest,

Lips on the column of my neck, 

Breath tickling the collarbone,

Then tear me apart.

Take hard, and make me feel alive.

I want to be the cause of your sins.

Haunt me. Hunt me. Promise me.

 

She takes a shaky breath, closing it and putting it back. Climbing into bed, she dreams of hands and a man that is down the hall.

 

Alastor has been reading for at least an hour, the notes in the box giving him a picture of the downfall of the relationship of an ex exterminator and the princess. 

 

The notes are many, more than he thought. He sits and puts them back. He’s had his coat off for a time, and sits back in his desk chair. He leans on his elbow as it settles on the armrest, his hand holding up his head in deep thought.

 

Leverage is always good, but he could tell Charlie everything. Him being the one to dry her tears, she’d trust him over all.

 

He smirks as he thinks a bit deeper on that. He looks over at the journal and thinks that she probably went to sleep, being home so late from the dinner with her father, he peeks, not really opening it too much but raises an eyebrow at the pink lettering.

 

He grabs the whole journal, as if he was snatching it, and reads her poem, leaning back comfortably as he reads the poem, a smile wide on his face.

 

Oh this girl is quite a tease. The cause of his sins? Ha! She was playing at strings he didn’t know he had. The mention of hunting her makes him hum in lust, the thought of undressing her makes him grip the book harder.

 

He reads it once, twice more, until he finally puts the journal down. He rubs at his face, laughter bubbling up in him as he loosens his collar, a hard breath coming from him.

 

His body is tense as he stirs, the pen he grabs almost snaps at his loss of control, before he begins to write another passage solely for her eyes to see,

 

Do forgive me

For my soul yearns to become one with yours.

To feel the sensation of your delights,

To hold and cradle you throughout our nights.

Your touch, fire that burns through me.

Our lips meeting in passionate embrace,

Your tongue, such an exquisite taste.

To be lost in the sea of your skin

Would be a pleasure, no guilt of sin.

 

He reaches down to his thigh, and he grips hard. No thoughts of that. He wants her wanton and begging for him. Not his intention of Charlie to be so eager to go all in.

 

He stands, getting a handle of himself as he takes the box and stakes out a hideaway for it.

 

He’s got all sorts of secrets.

 

And he cannot let them take over him.

 

 

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading everyone! We enjoy your comments!

Chapter 4: Garden Work

Chapter by Hazbinstohell (longstorm)

Summary:

It's time to get this garden together. And both characters indulge in fantasies.

She reads the poem repeatedly, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her. As she tries to steady her heavy breaths, she realizes she hadn't anticipated waking up to something so intoxicating.

 

Her mind wanders to who the sender might be, but only her hotelier comes to mind. She knows that if he were to discover her illicit thoughts, his charming smile would probably fade.

Despite her inner desires, she reminds herself that she simply can't indulge. Yet, she can't help but entertain the forbidden fantasies that ignite within her.

 

With trembling hands, she reaches for her pen, the seductive words of the poem igniting a fiery desire within her.

 

In your embrace, I find my place,

A fire ignites, consuming space.

Lost within your maze-like gaze,

Exploring valleys in your embrace.

Crashing waves of desire soar,

Burning passion, begging for more.

In your touch, I long to be,

The one who sets my spirit free.

Caress and tease, in ecstasy's call,

I surrender, willingly I fall.

In your arms, I find my all,

Boundless love, an eternal thrall.

 

Setting the pen aside, she exhales deeply, feeling a warm flush spreading across her skin. Temptation whispers to her, urging her to surrender to the desires building within her. Nevertheless, she knows today will be hectic; her father has already organized for others to handle most of the work. Despite this, she's eager to lend a hand. Descending the stairs, she interrupts Angel Dust, who's been shamelessly flirting with one of the workers.

 

Angel Dust rolls his eyes dramatically, "Oh, come on, Blondie! Just imagine them, muscles flexing, sweat glistening... It'll be quite the sight, Charlie. Join me in indulging in the spectacle!"

 

Charlie chuckles, shaking her head, "I'll be right there working alongside them, Angel. You're welcome to join me or do as you please."

 

Pointing to Charlie's attire–a pair of pants and a button-up shirt–Angel raises an eyebrow. 

"But in that? Charlie, for manual labor, you've got to dress the part! Remember how scorching hot it gets here during the day? I've seen you rocking athletic wear during your yoga sessions."

 

"Of course you have." She says in annoyance.

 

"And I know you've got something more suitable for this kind of activity.”

 

Charlie lets out an exasperated huff, conceding to Angel Dust's point. The Hellish heat demands more practical attire.

 

After changing into leggings, a sports bra, and a tank top, she styles her hair to keep it out of her face before heading outside. Angel Dust's whistle earns an eye roll as she navigates through the outdoor area. Spotting a demon who appears to be in charge, she approaches him.

"Hello! My father sent you?" She inquires.

 

"Yes, Princess. Lucifer has tasked us with this project." The foreman replies, casting a quick glance at her before smirking, "But, uh, I could use your help..."

 

Charlie raises an eyebrow, her tone firm. 

"No, thank you. I'd rather not give my father a reason to hear about that, would you? I'm here to assist with the work.”

 

As the foreman walks away, muttering under his breath, Charlie brushes off his comments, her excitement mounting as she searches for the plants.

 

Meanwhile, Alastor awakens and reaches for his copy of Charlie's journal, scanning its contents before setting it aside with a satisfied grin.

 

The thought of Charlie practically begging for his attention brings a smug smirk to his face. He anticipates the moment when she'll be consumed by desire, craving his presence. 

 

Eventually, Alastor casually strolls down the hallway, spotting Vaggie sharpening her spear. Though he considers saying something, he decides now isn't the appropriate time. However, Vaggie notices him and pauses her work, informing him.

"Charlie is outside.”

 

"Noted. Are you busy today? It seems like some people are occupied. Why, even I found myself engrossed in some reading earlier. Quite captivating material, I must say."

 

He notices the tension in her jaw as she mutters, "You know where the box is."

 

Alastor clicks his tongue disapprovingly. 

"If I knew the whereabouts of said box, I would have used it against you by now, wouldn't I? "

 

She observes as he briefly enters a demonic state before returning to normal. Blinking once, then twice, she concedes his point. Yet, another thought crosses her mind. 

"Perhaps your newfound friendship with my ex-girlfriend has your attention elsewhere?"

 

Alastor tilts his head, refusing to engage in her provocation. 

"I'm simply assisting the hotel owner with her ambitions. She can be quite persuasive when expressing her desires.”

 

Vaggie chuckles, her tone laced with amusement. 

"Sure you are, Alastor. But remember, I know her better than you do. Despite everything, I still care deeply for her."

 

Alastor laughs, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he looks away. 

"Of course, her well-being occupies the forefront of your thoughts, I'm sure."

 

Mocking laughter echoes from Vaggie, "At least I never saw her as mere entertainment. Or perhaps..." She smirks playfully. "Or perhaps you've developed a little crush. Convenient for you to swoop in and play the hero during her 'bad breakup' phase.”

 

Alastor sneers, "Perhaps I see her as a friend in need during this challenging time."

 

"By constructing an entire garden? You're reaching asshole."

 

Alastor suppresses the urge to lash out, opting for composure instead. Thoughts of Charlie's heartfelt poems remind him of her genuine emotions, contrasting sharply with Vaggie's apparent detachment from their relationship, evident from the letters in his room begging for his attention.

"When I befriend someone, I keep them close. I relish in their joy and laughter, their pleas and desires,” Alastor reflects, "Unlike yours."

 

Vaggie grabs her spear, smirking.

"Whatever. I know you have my belongings. And when I find evidence, she'll be furious."

 

Alastor's smile turns wicked, "I assume the contents of that box won't elicit the same reaction from her?"

 

Vaggie hesitates before retreating. 

"She won't see it."

 

Alastor raises an eyebrow. 

"Very well. We've reached a stalemate."

 

As Vaggie backs away, she wonders if Alastor hasn't already found what he was looking for, prompting her to leave before he begins searching. It's time to depart.

 

She storms off in frustration, leaving Alastor feeling a sense of accomplishment. He wanders towards the back of the hotel, where Angel greets him.

 

"Hey Smiles, make sure our esteemed Princess doesn't distract the other demons too much. She's bound to cause a few work accidents." 

 

Angel advises with a smirk.

 

Alastor gives him a quizzical look. 

"What are you on about, my effeminate fellow?"

 

Angel points out, "Well, she's wearing that hot outfit she wears for her yoga classes. Four of the guys have been ogling her every time she bends down to pick up a new plant. Yoga really does wonders for her figure... Al?"

 

But Alastor has already wandered off, observing the ongoing work until he spots Charlie.

 

He comes to a halt, taken aback by her appearance. He's seen her in her usual business attire, even in her pajamas, but this is a sight he never expected. The tight leggings and loose top leave little to the imagination, her hair tied up, exposing the graceful line of her neck, with beads of sweat already forming.

 

He can't help but lick his lips, the thought of his tongue tracing her skin sending a shiver down his spine…

 

If Alastor could express a frown, he certainly would have, but instead, he called out to her. She was bent over some plants, and he found his gaze drawn to her form.

 

Turning abruptly, she greeted him.

"Hey, Al! Ready to lend a hand?"

 

"My dear, you're proving to be quite the distraction." He admitted, his eyes involuntarily drifting to the alluring curve of her figure highlighted by the snug tank top she wore, leaving little to the imagination, "I suggest opting for something more suitable."

 

Charlie narrowed her eyes in response, "Al, really? First Angel, now you. I'm fine.” She insisted with a smirk, "Come on! Join me!"

 

He sighed inwardly, realizing she wouldn't budge. Annoyance tugged at him momentarily, but then he recalled one of the first poems she had penned in that journal…

 

Alastor removes his coat, finding a nearby bench to lay it down. With deliberate movements, he rolls up his sleeves, aware of Charlie's attentive gaze as she holds a pot close to herself. Finishing the task, he meets her eyes.

 

"Well, it's your garden, my dear. Where do you need me?" He asks, expecting a practical response.

 

Charlie blinks; her mind momentarily elsewhere. 

On that bench, between my legs…

 

She blinks again, shaking off her reverie. 

"Here! Take this! I have some ideas!"

 

Her mind was brimming with ideas, though most of them were nothing short of naughty and dirty, lingering remnants of the provocative poem. But she knew she needed to refocus.

 

As they set to work, Alastor couldn't help but be reminded of the days he spent helping his mother. It was peculiar how Charlie exhibited similar characteristics to the only other woman he truly cared for.

 

As they continued their work, Alastor couldn't shake the feeling that fate had brought them together for a reason, though he couldn't quite decipher what that reason might be.

 

“ Since when do I believe in fate ?” He thought, but it was clear to him that Charlie was different, making him change not only the game but himself. 

 

As Charlie watched Alastor tend to each flower with a delicate touch, she couldn't help but admire the care and attention he bestowed upon them. With each movement, he seemed to breathe life into the garden, his fingers caressing the petals with a gentleness that belied his rugged appearance.

 

Occasionally, Alastor would share stories of his mother, her love for gardening evident in the way he handled each plant. He spoke of her laughter, a sound that echoed in his memories and never failed to bring a smile to his lips. Charlie found herself captivated by these glimpses into his past, his vulnerability drawing her closer with each passing moment.

 

Meanwhile, Angel observed the scene with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, his eyebrow raised in silent inquiry. He couldn't quite decipher the nature of the connection between Charlie and Alastor, but he couldn't deny the subtle shifts in their interactions.

He left, figuring to allow them whatever was going on between them.

 

On the other hand, Niffty, ever the observant one, took notes diligently, her mind already spinning tales for her fanfiction. She imagined scenarios where Charlie and Alastor's shared moments in the garden blossomed into something more, weaving intricate plots that mirrored the subtle chemistry between them.

 

As Charlie watched Alastor's hands work their magic among the flowers, she couldn't shake the feeling of being privy to something special, something intimate. And as he regaled her with tales of his past, his smiles reserved solely for her, she couldn't help but wonder if their bond was blooming into something beautiful, just like the garden they tended together.

 

After a while, Charlie wiped her brow, surveying the garden with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. The lilies, their vibrant hues popping against the greenery, stood as a testament to her and Alastor's hard work. As she settled onto the nearby bench, relief flooded through her weary muscles.

 

Just as she began to relax, Alastor emerged, his shirt clinging to his damp skin, evidence of his own exertion. Despite his fatigue, a satisfied grin played on his lips as he joined her on the bench. Charlie couldn't ignore the pang of attraction that surged within her at the sight of him.

 

"Looks like we did it." 

Alastor remarked, his voice tinged with weariness.

 

Charlie nodded, stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She couldn't shake the intrusive thought of tasting the saltiness of his sweat, a sensation both foreign and enticing."Yeah, it turned out better than I imagined." She replied, her tone betraying a hint of distraction.

 

Alastor chuckled softly, oblivious to the turmoil raging within Charlie's mind. 

"You know, I couldn't have done it without you." He said, his gaze meeting hers with sincerity.

 

Heat crept into Charlie's cheeks as she averted her eyes, her heart pounding erratically. She tried to focus on anything but the tempting image of licking his sweat, but it lingered stubbornly in her thoughts."Thanks, Alastor.' She mumbled, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

 

As Charlie's mind wandered into more provocative territory, she found herself imagining Alastor stepping into the shower after a long day's work. The image of water cascading down his chest, droplets glistening against his skin, sent a shiver down her spine.

 

Her thoughts grew increasingly heated, consumed by the allure of the man sitting mere inches away from her.

 

Lost in her reverie, Charlie felt herself drifting off to sleep, her body gradually leaning towards Alastor's warmth. In her dreams their proximity blurred the lines between reality and fantasy, igniting a fire within her that she struggled to contain.

 

Suddenly, a gentle bump jolted Charlie awake, her eyes snapping open in alarm. She blinked rapidly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized how close she had come to Alastor. Hastily, she straightened up, avoiding his gaze as she mumbled an apology.

 

Alastor chuckled softly, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his eyes. 

"No harm done, Charlie." He reassured her, a hint of teasing lacing his tone.

 

As Alastor's hands enveloped her, pulling her closer, Charlie felt a rush of heat course through her veins. His touch, gentle yet possessive, sent shivers down her spine, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him, captivated by the intensity of his stare.

 

His fingers traced soothing patterns along her arm, calming her restless nerves with each tender caress. But as a chill swept through the air, betraying the onset of night's cold embrace, Alastor acted with swift determination. Without hesitation, he draped his coat over her shoulders, shielding her from the biting wind.

 

Charlie nestled into the warmth of the coat inhaling the faint scent of Alastor that lingered within its folds. A soft smile tugged at her lips as he brushed strands of her blonde hair away from her face, his touch sending sparks flying between them. She couldn't suppress a giggle as he teasingly wiped some leftover soil from her cheek, her blush deepening at the intimate gesture as he licked his finger provocatively. 

 

Her eyes locked onto his, tracing the contours of his face with an intensity that mirrored his own. At that moment, the world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the electric tension that crackled between them. Their lips hovered tantalizingly close, each breath mingling in the space between them; their desire palpable in the air.

 

They both knew the inevitable was drawing near, the magnetic pull of their attraction too strong to resist any longer. And as their lips finally met in a fervent kiss, igniting a blaze of passion that consumed them whole, they knew that this moment marked the beginning of something extraordinary.

 

Charlie's heart pounded in her chest as she melted into Alastor's kiss, her senses overwhelmed by the heady rush of desire coursing through her veins.

 

Alastor's hands cradled her face with a gentle urgency, his touch setting her soul ablaze with longing. She savored the taste of him, a heady mixture of sweat and soil, a tantalizing reminder of their shared toil in the garden. With each brush of their lips, the world around them faded into obscurity, leaving only the electric current that pulsed between their entwined bodies.

 

Their kiss deepened, a symphony of longing and yearning unfolding in the stillness of the night. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other, exploring the depths of their desires with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

 

In that fleeting moment, all their doubts and insecurities melted away, leaving only the raw, unbridled passion that bound them together. And as they finally broke apart, gasping for breath, they knew that this kiss marked the beginning of an unforgettable journey, filled with possibilities.

 

As Charlie and Alastor had lost themselves in their passionate embrace, they were oblivious to the presence of Niffty, who had appeared nearby, her eyes wide with curiosity. With nimble fingers, she scribbled furiously in her notebook, capturing every detail of their intimate moment with meticulous precision. But as Charlie caught sight of Niffty out of the corner of her eye, she squeaked in surprise, her cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment. 

 

Alastor, sensing her discomfort, gently urged Niffty to give them some privacy, and with a knowing smile, Niffty nodded and slipped away into the shadows.

 

With the distraction gone, Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, her heart still racing from the intensity of their kiss. She glanced up at Alastor, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips as she murmured something about needing to shower.

 

Alastor nodded in understanding, his gaze softening as he offered her his arm. Together, they made their way back to the house, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. Along the way, Alastor surprised Charlie by inviting her to dinner, a gesture that filled her with warmth.

 

She accepted with a smile, grateful for the chance to spend more time with him. She insisted that she try to make him something. As they reached the door, Alastor paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a pair of elegant black and dark red heels, explaining that they had once belonged to his mother.

 

Touched by the gesture, Charlie accepted the gift with gratitude, her heart swelling with emotion. She leaned in to press a soft kiss to Alastor's cheek, her lips lingering against his skin for a moment longer than necessary

 

"Thank you.” She whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

Alastor's eyes sparkled with warmth as he returned her kiss, his hand lingering on her cheek. 

"My pleasure.” He replied softly.

 

In the quiet sanctuary of her room, where shadows dance, Charlie sits, her heart aflutter. As she recalls the kiss, so sweet and so tender.

 

With trembling hands, she grasps her pen, seeking solace in the words therein. Each stroke was a testament to the fire ignited, in the depths of her soul.

 

The memory of his lips upon hers, a symphony of passion that stirs in her, her thoughts a whirlwind of desire, fanned by the flames of love's fire:

 

In the garden's hush, beneath the moon's soft glow,

Two souls entwined, our passions start to flow.

A tender touch, a longing gaze exchanged,

As lips meet, a symphony of love arranged.

His breath, a whisper upon my skin,

Ignites a fire that burns from deep within.

My heartbeat quickens, echoing his own,

In this moment, I'm no longer alone.

Our kiss, a dance of souls in perfect sync,

As if the universe itself would blink.

With every brush, a promise to fulfill,

A bond that time and fate cannot distill.

In that embrace, we find a timeless bliss,

Lost in the magic of our stolen kiss.

For in each other's arms, we're truly free,

Bound by love's eternal symphony.

 

Charlie set the pen aside, determined to get started with her shower. “ You smell horrible ,” she thought to herself. Yet, Alastor's aroma still surrounded her like a cloud, heavy with need. 

 

She slips the jacket near her robe and begins her routine. However, with every layer of clothing taken off, she feels more of that fire-like need pulsing within her.

 

As Charlie stepped into the shower, the steam enveloped her like a warm embrace, soothing her frazzled nerves. But as the water cascaded down her body, her mind wandered back to the kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume her whole.

 

With each drop that trickled down her skin, she imagined Alastor's touch, warm and needy, exploring every inch of her with a hunger that mirrored her own. Her hands trailed over her body, tracing the curves and contours that she longed for him to discover.

 

In her mind's eye, she could almost feel his fingers caressing her skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins. She bit her lip in anticipation, her breath hitching as she surrendered to the fantasy, lost in the intoxicating rush of sensation.

 

As the water continued to rain down upon her, she allowed herself to indulge in the forbidden thoughts that plagued her mind, knowing that soon she would be in his arms once more. As she surrendered to the waves of pleasure that washed over her, she couldn't help but yearn for the moment when their desires would finally be realized.

 

Charlie emerged from the shower, reaching for her robe, but grabbed the jacket she was just wearing. Alastor's coat enveloped her like a second skin. With each step, she felt the weight of his presence surrounding her, igniting a fierce longing within her soul. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, noticing that it was not in fact her robe, but Alastor’s coat, naked and flush under the red of something that belonged to him, her reflection sparked a flood of naughty thoughts that she didn't dare question for a second.

 

Her mind surrendered willingly to the intoxicating fantasies that danced behind her eyes. Images of Alastor's touch, his lips trailing kisses along her skin, consumed her thoughts entirely. With a soft sigh, she allowed herself to bask in the allure of the forbidden, relishing the sensation of his warmth against her bare flesh.

In that moment, doubts and inhibitions faded into insignificance, overshadowed by the primal need that pulsed through her veins. She was consumed by a hunger that could only be sated by him, by the man who had ignited a fire within her that burned hotter than any flame.

 

In the quiet solitude of her bedroom, Charlie looked at herself in the mirror, the way her breast peeked out of his jacket, one nipple exposing when she would turn slightly. The warmth of the fabric against her skin was intoxicating, and she couldn't help but let her mind wander to thoughts of the man himself.

 

Her fingers softly began to trace the soft material of the coat, and she closed her eyes, imagining Alastor's strong hands on her body. She felt a shiver of pleasure run down her spine as she began to touch herself, losing herself in the fantasy of being with him.

 

Alastor had gone to take a shower himself, coming out to get on another pair of pants and a shirt. He left the coat off, albeit he had another one than the one he let the Princess borrow for the night. Today was filled with quite the events. He widens his smile as he goes to the journal. Opening it to reveal her poem about their kiss. He laughs low until a small mew comes from behind him. Quickly glancing at his bed, Keekee tilts her head.

“Now, how did you get in here?”

 

For a moment he is just annoyed, it has to be a cat thing. But then he remembers that Keekee is literally the master key to the hotel.

“Now, that’s interesting.”… Alastor thinks as he grabs the cat deciding to bring it back to its owner.

 

He walked down the hall to her room, Keekee didn’t really care who had her, and just laid in his arms. That is until a noise had startled the cat, making it jump away from Alastor. Alastor, annoyed, heard the noise again, and looked toward Charlie’s door.

 

It sounds like a whimper, and he wonders if he should knock. 

 

It’s the moan that makes his ears twitch.

 

His smile slyly glides to a brighter smile. He wondered where the cat had run off too. Surely not far, he could use that key now.

 

Her moans and whimpers were a symphony, and he longed to become the conductor of her song.

 

It’s the footsteps that make his ears turn.

 

As Vaggie approached, Alastor quickly hid, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. But Vaggie was no fool, and she soon caught on to what was happening.

"Alastor, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice dripping with suspicion.

 

"None of your business," he replied with a sly smile, before walking down the hall, however he turned back, “Interesting enough, I found the cat in my room. I wonder if you knew how she got there?”

 

His voice is a whisper, and Vaggie looks at him oddly, but whispers back, “I don’t know why the cat was in your room.”

 

Alastor raises an eyebrow at the ex-exterminator. 

 

Vaggie huffs, about to say something else, when they both hear Charlie’s whine, this time, a name on her breath.

 

Vaggie's eyes widened as she heard Charlie moan out Alastor's name, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She turns on her heel, walking swiftly in the opposite direction.

 

Alastor, on the other hand, was thrilled by the turn of events. Hearing her moan his name was the ultimate turn-on. With a wide grin, he walked away, leaving Charlie to her desires. 

 

As the night went on, Charlie's fantasies only grew more intense. She imagined Alastor's lips on hers, his hands roaming her body, and his cock filling her up. She touched herself relentlessly, hands lost in the folds of her sex, surrendering herself to the feelings in written words.

 

Her moans grew louder and more urgent, and she couldn't help but call out Alastor's name. She knew he wasn't there, but the thought of him was enough to send her over the edge.

As she came hard, she felt a rush of pleasure like she had never experienced before. The coat she had been clutching was now soaked with her release, and she couldn't help but smile.

 

Despite the fact that Alastor had never even touched her, she felt like they had shared something intimate. And as she lay there, spent and satisfied, she couldn't wait to see him again.

 

Upon leaving Charlie to her moment of ecstasy, Alastor returned to his room, his thoughts consumed by the seductive scene he had just witnessed. His eyes fell upon a new poem she had written, its words dripping with innuendo and desire. The sight of it ignited a fire within him, and his cock stiffened in response.

 

He sits and picks up the pen, beginning to write a poem, his desires pouring onto the page: 

 

In your lips, a realm of bliss I find, 

So tender, they beguile my mind. 

To claim your love, to bask in your grace, 

To hold you close, in our embrace.

 

Upon that pew, our worlds did collide, 

Yearning for you, couldn't hide. 

Your gaze, a spell that melts my core, 

In this love's abyss, I am lost, and more.

 

Why choose me, amid the vast expanse? 

Your touch ignites a fervent dance. 

Do you too feel this burning fire? 

Together, we'll face every desire.

 

I'd set aflame the world, for you, my dear, 

And with you, rebuild without fear. 

Forever by your side, I'II stand, 

Offering all I have, hand in hand.

 

Yet in my mind, your essence dwells, 

In every verse, your story tells. 

Are you the rebel, the one to dare? 

Well, darling, I'lI meet you there .

 

Unable to resist, Alastor reached for his length, his grip firm as he began to stroke himself. His mind filled with images of Charlie, her body writhing beneath him, her moans of pleasure urging him on. He pictured her lips wrapped around his cock, her tongue swirling around the tip as she took him deeper into her mouth.

 

He attempts more of his poem, as his other hand works himself

 

In thoughts of you, I'm deeply ensnared, 

Lost in fantasies we've shared. 

On this page, my longing flows, 

A testament to love that grows.

 

Know this, my love, I'll give my all, In your arms, I will never fall. 

Just so you know, forever true, 

All the love you crave, l will give to you.

 

In those pages, a futile attempt I made, 

A charade of words, a masquerade. 

But behold me now, consumed by desire, 

Lost in the flames of passion's fire.

 

My dear, I surrendered the game's deceit, 

Submerged in longing, at your feet. 

Moaning in ecstasy, your image reigns, 

My hand's motion, a dance of chains.

 

Yearning for your lips, so divine, 

In this moment, your essence intertwine. 

Yet, for now, my hand must suffice, 

Tracing the contours of paradise .

 

The thought of Charlie's lips on his cock makes him groan, for a moment forgetting the poem to switch hands. He lies his head back but is determined to finish the poem.

 

However, he can’t help but speed up, hearing her earlier call out his name in the hall is the mantra that delivers him, and it sends him over the edge, some of his release spurting onto the paper of the poem. 

 

For a moment he sits, and gives a breathy laugh. He smears a little of his cum onto the page, a silent offering to the muse who had inspired such a passionate response, and writes even more:

 

The smudge on the page, a silent plea, 

A testament to your hold on me. 

Why linger in my thoughts, unbidden? 

Why crave you, as if I am smitten?

 

Tell me, why won't you release my mind? 

Why do I ache for you, so unrefined? 

In this devouring need, I find no peace, 

Just longing for your sweet release.

 

Tell me, beloved, what spell you weave,

That in my soul, you deeply cleave.

Your essence lingers, an intoxicating brew,

Leaving me yearning, lost in you.

 

As his breathing returned to normal, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had given in to his desires, and in doing so, had claimed a piece of Charlie for himself. He knew that their connection was undeniable, and he couldn't wait to explore it further:

 

Your lips, a temptation I can't resist,

In fantasies, they persist.

With every thought, my desire grows,

For in you, my heart surely knows.

 

Your invasion of my mind, relentless and bold,

Leaves me captive, in your hold.

Why do I crave you, with such intensity?

A mystery of love's vast density.

 

In the depths of night, your whispers call,

Leading me to surrender, to fall.

Oh, how I long to feast upon your grace,

To feel your presence, to embrace.

 

So tell me, dear, what magic you possess,

That in my longing, you do confess.

For in your arms, I find my home,

Lost in desire, never to roam .

 

But to feed more desires would have to wait. He was tired and knew for a fact she was too. He gave the journal one more glance, his eyes landing on his smeared cum. “Guess games are back in full swing, my dear…”

 

 

 

Notes:

We hope you are enjoying as much as we are writing! It's getting spicy from here on, folks!

Chapter 5: Tending the Garden

Chapter by Hazbinstohell (longstorm)

Summary:

Charlie indulges in her garden, but her secret garden isn't so secret...
Vaggie can't stand any of this.
Alastor confesses one thing to her...but not the other.

Charlie drifted into the deepest sleep she had ever known that night. She surrendered to exhaustion, cocooned in Alastor's jacket. Reluctantly slipping out of bed, she hung the jacket on a hook, noticing the remnants of her self-care from the night before had left a stain. 

 

She couldn't help but smirk and then giggle, as she dressed for an early morning stroll through the freshly blooming garden.

 

Before leaving, she examined the journal intently, then seized it, sinking into an armchair and flipping it open to a sprawling poem-far larger than she expected. 

 

With meticulous attention, she read each word, her eyes dancing across the pages until she reached a stanza, only to discover a smudge at the bottom of the page. The words she had to reread, realizing that it was far something more than just a drop of any liquid.

 

She inhales deeply, her thumb hesitating over the page for a brief moment before she continues reading. The words unravel a tapestry of emotions and experiences, mirroring her own but amplified.

 

Her fingertips graze the smudge on the paper, tracing it delicately. A moment of confusion passes before she brings it to her lips, pressing it gently against them and tasting a hint of faint saltiness.

 

Briefly transported to another realm, another moment with the jacket's owner, she sets the journal aside, focusing on steadying her breath and banishing the intrusive thoughts from her mind.

 

She seizes her pen, contemplating for a moment before beginning to write, 

 

In the depth of night, do you ever ponder, 

Desire stirring, hearts drawn asunder. 

Aching to meld in passions untold, 

In ecstasy's grip, our souls enfold.

 

Hold me close, with tender embrace, 

Yet ravish me fiercely, leave no trace. 

Complete me, in every way, 

In this dance of love, let's both sway.

 

Can't you see the fire within my eyes, 

Yearning for your touch, beneath the skies. 

Come find me, let your heart speak it, 

Mark me, stain me, in love's fierce spirit.

 

Whispers of lust, fueling our fire, 

As we surrender to passion, our souls conspire. 

Hold me close, as we lose control, 

In the depths of pleasure, we both enroll.

 

After closing her journal and gently returning it to the desk, she opted for a breezy outfit and tiptoed into the hallway, careful not to disturb anyone in the early hours.

---

 

She strolled through the garden, marveling at its unexpected beauty even in the depths of Hell. Pausing to inhale the fragrant blooms, she tended to the plants with care, nurturing each one as if they were a cherished memory.

 

Yet amidst the tranquility, her thoughts inevitably turned to him. Was this his subtle strategy? To intertwine himself with every flower, ensuring that each bloom would evoke memories of his thoughtful gestures and the love he bestowed upon her?

 

She paused by the tranquil fountain, mesmerized by the gentle flow of water cascading into the basin below. Turning away, she stealthily navigated past a dense thicket of bushes, revealing a hidden pathway marked by winding stones leading to a secluded alcove-a serene sanctuary concealed from prying eyes. Nestled within was a simple bench, offering a quiet refuge where she could bask in the soothing melody of the fountain. 

 

Here, she kicked off her shoes, reclined on the bench, and exhaled deeply, immersing herself in the blissful solitude, if only for a fleeting moment.

 

Yet, the tranquility was short-lived, as memories of yesterday's kiss and her night consumed by thoughts of him surged back, igniting a familiar desire that caused her to bite her lip in anticipation. She attempted to suppress it, diverting her thoughts to her father or Vaggie.

 

However, the mention of Vaggie only intensified her inner turmoil. The idea of Vaggie discovering her lost in the throes of passion akin to those of the night before sent a rush of heat through her veins. The thought of inadvertently calling out his name in such a moment and Vaggie overhearing filled her with a mix of apprehension and longing.

 

Why did that turn her on?

 

She straightened up, casting a cautious glance around her sanctuary. As long as she remained discreet, she could surrender to her desires without fear of interruption. With practiced ease, she shed the loose garments she had donned, her porcelain skin a stark contrast to the vibrant hues of her surroundings.

 

Reclining once more, her blonde locks cascading over the edge of the bench, she lifted one leg, resting her foot upon the seat, giving herself over to memories of the previous night- of enigmatic poetry and shadowy contemplations.

 

She decided to indulge her desires and slipped her hand in between her thighs, gently caressing her moistening folds.

---

 

Alastor had spent the majority of the night reliving the sensation of the girl's lips against his own. However, he redirected his attention to the letters penned for Vaggie—countless missives expressing care, longing, and love for her.

 

Though some letters remain unread, he deliberately avoided dwelling on thoughts of her in any capacity. Instead, his mind frequently wandered to his beloved Princess, pondering how her night had unfolded.

 

A smirk played across his lips as he recalled his actions, particularly the subtle mark he had left in her book—a gesture that may have been considered excessive by mortal standards, but in the realm of Hell, where demons were governed by different rules, it felt appropriate given the nature of desire.

 

Feeling restless in the early morning hours, he had grown bored and opted to revisit her poems, flipping through the pages until he reached the second-to-last entry- the space where he knew her verses awaited, nestled just after his own.

 

He lets out a low growl of frustration, irked by the blatant tease and yet simultaneously thrilled that she's awake and seemingly prepared for him. Hastily throwing on an extra coat, he descends the stairs with cautious steps, scanning the area for any sign of her presence. In his search, he inadvertently collides with Niffty.

 

"Hey, boss! Up early, aren't you?"

 

"Have you happened to come across Charlie?" He queries, his impatience palpable.

 

"Hmm? Have you checked the garden? I haven't spotted her this morning, and I've been all over.” Niffty responds, nonchalantly picking up a needle. "Bugs won't exterminate themselves, you know. Well, not yet anyway…" 

 

She adds with a mischievous grin.

 

As she prances away, Alastor hums to himself, making his way out through the back entrance.

 

The garden evokes memories of his past life, its beauty and fragrance reminiscent of days gone by. Taking in the surroundings as he wanders, he mentally catalogs a few observations, until a sound is made from across the garden.

 

The faint sound catches his attention, barely registering to anyone else, but his keen ears hone in on it, guiding his steps toward its source. As he nears the fountain, he considers that the noise might have been nothing more than its gentle splashing, until he catches the unmistakable gasp of another.

 

Turning towards a sizable bush, he initially dismisses the idea of anything lurking beyond its foliage as absurd. However, curiosity gets the better of him, and he gingerly parts the branches with his hand. What he sees on the other side nearly prompts a groan to escape his lips.

 

His little poet reclines gracefully upon the stone bench, her naked form unabashedly on display. One hand delicately traces the curve of her ample breast, eliciting soft gasps and subtle squirms from her. Her breaths come in deep, rapid waves, punctuating the air with the rhythm of her arousal.

 

His gaze descends, fixating on her other hand, which is immersed in the depths of her dripping cunt, lost in the throes of her passionate reverie.

 

Alastor remains transfixed for another moment, captivated by her glistening arousal and irresistible allure. Emboldened, he takes a few more deliberate steps closer, openly admitting to himself that he lingers to indulge in the captivating sight before him.

 

His hand drifts down to his crotch, a fleeting moment of arousal stirring within him before he decides to take action.

 

Driven by an insatiable desire, he yearns to taste her essence, mesmerized by the sight of it trickling down onto the bench between her thighs. Unconsciously, he licks his lips, his body moving of its own accord, drawn inexorably towards her.

 

As he approached, he saw her fingers buried in her pussy, her eyes closed as she surrendered herself to the moment. Careful not to startle her, Alastor knelt down and gently pulled her fingers out, replacing them with his own.

 

“Charlotte…I know you enjoy manual labor. But you are royalty! Allow me...”

 

His finger plunges directly into her, eliciting a subtle arch of her back as she observes him bringing her fingers to his mouth. With hungry fervor, he sucks on them, savoring the taste of her essence, while his other hand continues its exploration, finding a rhythm that drives her to new heights of pleasure, all with just his finger and tongue alone.

 

Charlie's eyes shot open, meeting Alastor's gaze. Surprise quickly turned to pleasure as she felt his finger explore her slick folds. Moaning, she leaned back, giving him better access, her smile wide and inviting.

 

She gasps and instinctively arches her back, a fleeting sense of embarrassment and shame flickering through her mind. But at this moment, she's none of those things. Instead, she's consumed by a primal need, her body craving his touch in ways she never imagined. With each moan that escapes her lips, she whispers his name like a sweet caress, her desire for him palpable.

 

In response, he moans louder, his words a seductive symphony in the air. "You're so wet, Charlie." He murmurs, his voice thick with desire, "Naked and gorgeous in your secret garden. Beautiful and alluring among these flowers. The most exquisite bloom here, glistening with your delicious nectar.”

 

Charlie squirms beneath his touch, her fingers grasping onto his coat for support while the other clings desperately to the bench. 

 

"Al, please..." 

 

She pleads, her voice laden with a mixture of longing and urgency.

 

Alastor smirks. 

 

“My dear, do you want me to fill you ? Complete you ? Stain you ?”

 

She responds with a breathy "yes,"' her voice barely registering that the words had escaped her lips. At this moment, nothing else matters as he adds a third finger, while his other hand trails sensually over her clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

 

"Look at you," he whispers reverently, his voice laden with admiration. With a swift motion, he plucks a flower from the bush nearby, using its delicate petals to tease and caress her nipples while he continues his ministrations further south.

 

He observes as she lowers her other leg, struggling to maintain her composure under the intensity of his touch. Despite her efforts, she can't help but writhe against his hand, desperate for the ecstasy she craves, longing to be enveloped in his embrace once more.

 

He traces the flower delicately over her stomach, eliciting a whimper of desire from her lips. 

 

"Alastor, take me.." 

 

She pleads, her voice dripping with need.

 

"Darling, not without dinner first!” 

 

He responds with a playful smirk, his tone teasing. 

 

"Allow the man that pleasure…”

 

Charlie's frustration is palpable, evident in the tension coursing through her body. However, when he increases the pace, she stiffens momentarily before surrendering to the overwhelming sensation, her body convulsing in pleasure.

 

With each subtle movement, he savors every detail, relishing in the sight of her throwing herself toward him while silently screaming in ecstasy. He delights in the sensation of her muscles fluttering around his fingers, a testament to the intensity of her pleasure.

 

Despite his own arousal, he knows there's more to be done before giving in to his own desires. With a longing gaze, he observes his hand, drenched in her essence, and then offers it to her lips. For a moment, she hesitates, but then, with a tentative yet eager gesture, she licks her essence from his fingers, her actions stirring a smile of satisfaction on his lips.

 

He kisses her tenderly, his hand gently gripping her neck to keep her anchored to the bench. Then, with a regretful sigh, he releases her and steps back, moving away before she notices a massive bulge, the undeniable evidence of his arousal.

 

Charlie finds herself in a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, the experience was undeniably incredible, leaving her trembling with pleasure. On the other hand, she can't shake the feeling of shame at being caught in such a vulnerable moment. She shakily sits up, smoothing down her disheveled hair before hastily gathering her clothes.

 

Despite the conflicting emotions, she knows one thing for certain: she wants more of the electrifying experience she just had. Much more…

---

 

He is back in his room quickly, his back on the door as soon as it is closed. He breathes, taking breaths as he calms his nerves. He would have taken her right then; she had permitted him , but it didn’t matter when there was so much more to do.

 

Alastor sat alone in his room, the echo of Charlie's moans still lingering in his mind. The image of her in her garden, in throws of pleasure, invaded his thoughts with a force he couldn't resist. He could almost feel the warmth of her skin against his, the intoxicating scent of flowers mingling with her perfume. 

 

His heart raced as he surrendered to the allure of his forbidden desires. In the privacy of his sanctuary, he allowed himself to indulge in fantasies that bordered on the edge of sin. The lines between reality and imagination blurred as he envisioned her, every curve of her body a masterpiece painted by the divine.

 

With trembling hands, Alastor reached for his quill and parchment, his soul aflame with passion. 

 

Words flowed from his mind to paper, weaving a tapestry of longing and lust. The ink became his confidant, capturing the depths of his desires in verse.

 

Under the golden sun's embrace, 

Charlie, fair and bright, 

On the bench, a masterpiece, a flawless sight. 

Your hand buried deep, a tempting allure, 

I couldn't resist, your essence pure.

 

Easily ensnared, in our own private dance, 

No longer a game, but a shared romance. 

Moments of joy, infinite and free, 

With your sweet moans, a symphony to me.

 

Together we lingered, lost in our bliss, In the warmth of the sun, sealed with a kiss.

Charlie, so beautiful, my heart's delight,

Forever entwined, in love's sweet flight.

 

Caught on the bench, in a clandestine affair, 

Whispers of passion, filling the air. 

Your fingers tracing secrets, a tantalizing tease, 

In the embrace of desire, we find our release.

 

Naughty and bold, beneath the red sky, 

Underneath the sun's watchful eye. 

Each stolen moment, a treasure to keep, 

As we delve deeper into passion's deep.

 

Charlie, enchanting, with mischief in your gaze, 

In this hidden haven, where fantasies blaze. 

With every touch, igniting the flame, 

On this bench, we etch our name.

 

So let the world pass, as we linger here, 

In the realm of ecstasy, free from fear. 

Caught in the rapture, of our own design, 

On this bench of bliss, forever entwined.

 

The bench… his thoughts raced. Revealing this could be disastrous. What options did he have? With a swift motion, he tore the page from the journal, leaving only a fragment, On that ben.  

 

But it doesn’t bother him. Instead pen back on paper, trying again, this time, not giving those dangerous clues away:

 

Oh, to see you laid before me,

Like a nymph, bathed in glory.

Your hair silk, your skin ablaze

I’d find you in a secret maze.

Loss in my desire…

Let's see what I can transpire .

 

He closes it, not looking back.

 

He sets out to the market to find the ingredients needed for dinner and hopes the girl is ready for tonight.

---

 

The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board echoed through the kitchen, punctuated by Charlie's focused breaths. She meticulously diced each vegetable, her mind wandering to the evening ahead with Alastor. The anticipation of sharing a meal together filled her with excitement, adding an extra layer of care to her culinary creations. Yet, she struggled with the proper cutting of the potatoes. Embarrassing, she thought to herself, but she simply couldn't cut the right proportions.

 

As Charlie continued her task, she heard the familiar sound of the door opening, signaling Alastor's arrival. A smile spread across her face as he entered the kitchen, his presence immediately electrifying the air. Without a word, he approached her, his eyes filled with affection, and gently took her hands in his. Together, they resumed the chopping, their movements synchronized as if they had been cooking together for years. At that moment, the simple act of preparing dinner became a shared expression of love and connection.

 

She could feel his presence behind her, his growing arousal pressing against her back. He took her hands in his, guiding her in the task, and she found herself instinctively letting him have control as she felt him grind into her.

 

Charlie couldn't help but grind her ass against Alastor's hard cock, feeling it throb through the fabric of his pants. She leaned back, letting out a soft moan, as he wrapped an arm around her midsection.

 

He took the knife from her hand and placed it on the counter, before wrapping both of his arms around her waist. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. 

 

"You're mine, Charlie." 

 

She shivered with anticipation, her heart beating faster.

 

He trailed his lips down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. Then, he took the knife back, and just at that point, he made a small cut on her neck, just enough to draw a drop of blood. She gasped at the sensation but didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her body begging for more.

 

He placed back down the knife and licked the blood from her neck, his tongue hot and wet against her skin. She moaned with pleasure, her hands reaching behind her to grip his ass. He ground his cock against her, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body.

 

"Charlie?"  Vaggie's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. "What are you doing?"

 

Charlie pulled away from Alastor, her eyes flashing, "I'm cooking dinner for Alastor, what does it look like?"

 

Vaggie's eyes narrowed, "You're practically dry-humping him in the kitchen! What is wrong with you!"

 

Charlie's eyes blazed with anger as she turned her attention solely to Vaggie. 

 

"You know what, Vaggie? I'm tired of your constant judgment and interference. This is my life, and I'll handle it how I see fit. If you can't support me, then maybe you should find somewhere else to be." 

 

Charlie folded her arms, daring Vaggie to respond.

 

Vaggie crossed her arms defiantly, her eyes narrowing. 

 

"Well, maybe if you didn't throw yourself at every charming demon who walks through the door, I wouldn't have to worry so much!" Her voice rose with frustration. "You're too trusting, Charlie. You don't see the danger until it's too late." 

 

Vaggie took a step closer, her expression pleading, "I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

 

Vaggie's fiery gaze softened slightly as she noticed the faint trail of blood on Charlie's neck. Concern crept into her voice as she reached out to touch the wound, Charlie's hand stopping her. "Charlie, you're bleeding..." 

 

Her anger momentarily eclipsed by worry, she turned her gaze towards Alastor, suspicion lingering in her eyes. "What happened?"

 

Vaggie demanded her tone a mix of protective instinct and accusatory defiance. The couple in front of her just looked at each other, a desire in their eyes.

 

Vaggie's concern quickly morphed into renewed anger as she examined the cut on Charlie's neck, her eyes narrowing with fury. 

 

"Dammit, Charlie! How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from him?" Her voice rose with frustration, her fists clenching at her sides. "He's dangerous, Charlie, and you're too blind to see it!" 

 

Her words were laced with desperation as she struggled to make Charlie understand the danger she was in. "I won't let him continue to hurt you like this!"

 

Charlie's eyes flashed with defiance, her patience wearing thin. "Enough, Vaggie! You have no right to speak to me like this, especially when you don't even know the full story." She squared her shoulders, her voice dripping with scorn. 

 

"Alastor may have his faults, but at least he's honest about who he is. Unlike some people who pretend to be holier-than-thou while they're busy tearing others down. You have no idea how much you've hurt me. Damaged me..." 

 

Charlie’s words stung with the truth, and Vaggie's expression faltered for a moment, wounded by Charlie's blunt accusation. 

 

Charlie took it to sting Vaggie a little more, "So, before you go throwing around accusations, maybe take a good, hard look in the mirror." 

 

Vaggie's eyes blazed with indignation, her words sharp as daggers, "You know what, Charlie? Maybe you're right. Maybe I am the reason for our breakup. But you're no saint either. You're so blinded by your infatuation with Alastor that you can't even see how much you've changed." 

 

Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion as she fought to maintain her composure.

 

Before Charlie could respond, Alastor stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. 

 

"Now, now, ladies, let's not forget the real reason behind all this turmoil." 

 

His tone was eerily calm, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air.

 

Vaggie's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she turned to face him. "And what would that be, Alastor? More of your twisted games?"

 

Alastor's grin widened, sending shivers down Vaggie's spine. "Oh, nothing quite so sinister, my dear. Just a little box hidden away by you, filled with secrets that would make your head spin."

 

Vaggie's breath caught in her throat, her anger giving way to shock. 

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

Vaggie's voice trembled with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort as she questioned the mysterious box. Charlie's heart raced with the intensity of their exchange, her body growing warm and needy under Alastor's gaze and Vaggie's sudden defeat.

 

In a sudden move to assert her independence and quench the fire burning within her Charlie seized the moment when Alastor mockingly pulled her close, his lips grazing her cheek. With a surge of passion, she turned the tables, capturing Alastor's lips in a fiery, passionate kiss.

 

The heat between them intensified, igniting a primal desire that sent shivers down Charlie's spine. As their lips met in a fierce embrace, Charlie's senses were overwhelmed with the taste of Alastor's forbidden allure.

 

But as the kiss deepened, Charlie couldn't ignore the sense of Vaggie's presence, her eye widening in horrified disbelief at the shocking display of passion before her. Charlie's heart raced with a heady mix of guilt and excitement as she reluctantly pulled away, the tension between them thick with unspoken desires.

 

As Vaggie tried to voice her disbelief and disapproval, Charlie felt a surge of power coursing through her veins, her demon instincts taking control. With a fierce growl, her form shifted into her demon mode, her tail snaking around Alastor's leg like a possessive claim.

 

Vaggie's eyes widened in shock as she watched Charlie transform before her, her words catching in her throat. Before she could utter another word of protest, Charlie's voice, now tinged with a menacing edge, cut through the air like a blade.

 

"You think you have the right to judge me, Vaggie?" 

 

Charlie's voice echoed with a dark intensity, her eyes glowing with power.

 

"You made me cry, time and time again. You never treated me right, always ignoring my feelings, always making me feel small and insignificant."

 

Her tail tightened its grip around Alastor's leg, a silent warning to stay out of their confrontation. Charlie's gaze bore into Vaggie's; her words dripping with pent-up resentment and hurt. 

 

"You were never happy with who I am, always trying to change me, to mold me into someone I'm not. Well, I've had enough of it."

 

Vaggie recoiled, her shock giving way to a pang of guilt as she realized the depth of Charlie's pain. But before she could respond, Charlie turned from her, her demon form pulsating with raw emotion, leaving Vaggie to grapple with the weight of her words.

 

With a flicker of sadness in her demonic eyes, Charlie turned back once more to face Vaggie, her voice softened but still tinged with bitterness. 

 

"You know what, Vaggie? Alastor was the one who listened to me. He wanted to help me with the garden, something I'd been dreaming of for ages. But you?" 

 

She paused, her gaze piercing, 

 

"You were always against it, even though you knew how much it meant to me."

 

Her tail loosened its grip on Alastor's leg, but the tension between them remained palpable. 

 

"You never bothered to understand what I truly wanted. You were too caught up in your agenda, too blinded by your insecurities to see beyond yourself."

 

Charlie's words hung heavy in the air, the silence between them suffocating. With a heavy heart, she turned away this time leaving the room completely. Alastor watched as her demon form faded as she disappeared into the darkness, leaving Vaggie to confront the harsh truth of her actions.

 

"Before I leave, Vagatha, I have a confession to make. I have the box."

 

Alastor's chilling words sent a shiver down Vaggie's spine as he leaned in close, his presence suffocating in its intensity. The sinister grin that played on his lips only heightened the sense of unease that washed over her.

 

Vaggie met his gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to let her fear show. 

 

"You may have the box, Alastor." She replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her."But you don't have power over me. I'll find it, and I'll expose the truth, no matter what it takes."

 

With a final, lingering gaze, Alastor straightened up, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and malice. "We'll see about that, Vagatha." 

 

He purred, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the darkness, leaving Vaggie alone with her thoughts and the ominous promise of what lay hidden within the box.

---

 

Charlie had run back to her room, thinking that she had closed her door. She landed with a heavy thud onto her bed, and sobbed into her pillow, her heart heavy with Vaggie's words echoing in her mind. "No one will love me for me," she whispered, feeling the weight of loneliness crush her spirit.

 

Meanwhile, in his room, Alastor couldn't shake off a gut feeling that he should check with his beloved Charlie. Concern gnawed at his insides, driving him to his feet. With a furrowed brow and a racing heart, he decided to check on her, ignoring the oddity of his worry for someone else.

 

Alastor had noticed the door was slightly opened and stepped into Charlie's room, his keen senses leading him to the source of her distress. He found her lying on the bed, her shoulders shaking with sobs. With gentle concern, he took a seat beside her, his expression a mix of worry and warmth.

 

"What has gotten my sweet princess so out of sorts? Dearest, please don't cry..." Alastor's voice was soft, filled with genuine care as he looked at her with the most sincere smile, silently urging her to share her burdens.

 

"Al... I... “ She hiccups a sob, but then sits up, “How did you know I was here?" Charlie asked through her tears, her surprise evident as she struggled to compose herself.

 

Alastor gestured to the door, left slightly ajar, a silent explanation for his presence.

 

"Oh," Charlie murmured in realization, as Alastor settled beside her on the bed, his attention fully on her.

 

"What may be the reason for your tears? Vaggie?" 

 

Alastor inquired gently, his eyes searching hers for answers as he moved closer to her.

 

Charlie looked around nervously before positioning herself closer to him on the bed, seeking solace in his presence.

 

"Has Vaggie gotten your delightfulness within her grasp?" Alastor asked, referencing the encounter in the kitchen earlier.

 

"Vaggie... she's telling me I shouldn't... want you. To be with you..." 

 

Charlie confessed, her voice trembling with emotion as she recounted the hurtful words Vaggie had spoken.

 

Alastor observed Charlie's expression, his heart sinking at the weight of her disappointment. With tender care, he reached for her hand, guiding it to rest on his knee, a silent gesture of reassurance.

 

"But you do? You want to be with me?" Alastor's voice trembled with vulnerability, his fears lay bare as he awaited her response, almost afraid of what it might be.

 

Charlie nodded, her tears flowing more freely now, her anguish palpable.

 

"Alastor, what is wrong with me? Why can't no one love me for who I am?" she lamented, her voice breaking with despair as she grappled with her insecurities.

 

Alastor's eyes widened in genuine pain at her words, his own heart aching at her anguish. Gently, he pulled her closer, his gaze locking with hers as he sought to offer her solace.

 

"Look at me," he whispered, his voice tender yet firm. 

 

“Why?” Charlie questioned, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

 

"I want your eyes to look at mine when I say this," Alastor replied softly, his gaze unwavering as he prepared to share his heartfelt words with her.

 

He inched ever so slightly closer, feeling her instinctively draw nearer as well. With gentle care, he reached for his handkerchief, tenderly wiping away her tears as he spoke.

 

"In my opinion, the girl in front of me is very beautiful. If she cried less about her ex and smiled more for her hotelier, I'd say she'd be rather charming," Alastor remarked, his smile genuine as he held her gaze, his words filled with sincerity.

 

He smiled at her, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the truth of his feelings, though she had yet to grasp their depth. She assumed he was merely being kind, unaware of the depths of his affection.

 

"Al, thank you. But I'm not looking for complime-"

 

He cut her off sharply, his tone firm yet gentle, his words holding a weight she couldn't quite comprehend yet, “I’m not done.”Alastor paused, his heart pounding with emotion as he gathered the courage to speak the words he had long kept hidden within his heart,

 

"Charlie, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice soft yet resolute. "I know I may not have shown it as clearly as I should have, but... I care for you deeply. More than I've cared for anyone else in a long time. You are not just a passing fancy or a fleeting interest. You... you mean everything to me."

 

As he spoke, Alastor's gaze never wavered, his eyes filled with a sincerity that could not be mistaken. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, his touch tender and filled with affection.

 

"I love you, Charlie," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with the weight of his emotions. "I love you more than words can express, and I would do anything to make you happy."

 

Charlie's breath caught in her throat as Alastor's heartfelt confession washed over her, his words enveloping her in a warmth she had never known. Tears welled in her eyes, but this time they were tears of overwhelming emotion, of joy and disbelief at the depth of his love for her.

 

"Alastor..." she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her own emotions.

 

But he wasn't finished. With a tender smile, he continued his voice a gentle melody that echoed in her heart, "You are the light in my darkness, the melody in my silence. Every moment spent with you is a treasure, and every smile you grace me with is a gift beyond measure. I cherish you, Charlie, in ways I never thought possible."

 

As he spoke, Alastor's eyes shone with an intensity that mirrored the depth of his love, his words a testament to the adoration he held for her.

 

"I promise to stand by your side, to support you, to lift you up when you're feeling down, and to love you with every fiber of my being, for as long as I live," he vowed, his voice filled with a sincerity that left no room for doubt.

 

At that moment, Charlie felt her heart overflow with love for this demon who had captured her soul with his kindness and devotion. And as she gazed into his eyes, she knew that she had found her home in the warmth of his embrace, forever and always.

 

As Charlie pulled Alastor in, their lips met in a fervent kiss fueled by longing and desire. He was taken aback at first, but his surprise quickly gave way to a sweet surrender as he melted into her touch. But when she pulled away, a wave of sadness washed over him, her fear palpable in the air.

 

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I..." Charlie began, but he silenced her with a deep kiss, his passion igniting a fire between them as they fell into each other's arms. With a shared urgency, they shed their outer layers, their hands moving with a fevered determination.

 

In a blur of desire and tenderness, Alastor's jacket was discarded while Charlie's shirt was torn away, leaving her in nothing but her bra. With a mutual understanding, they kicked off their shoes, their movements guided by an unspoken need.

 

Gently, Alastor guided Charlie onto the bed, her landing marked by a soft giggle that echoed in the room. As he looked into her eyes, he spoke words that echoed in her heart his confession a revelation that left her breathless.

"I love you, Charlie. I... always did."

 

Her eyes widened in disbelief, the weight of his words hitting her with a force she couldn't ignore. Suddenly, all the subtle hints, the tender gestures, the moments shared between them, became clear, like pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place.

 

Was he the one who penned the poems? 

 

Her dreams had become reality, and in Alastor's arms, she felt loved, cherished, and understood like never before. But her reverie was interrupted by a playful lick from Alastor, eliciting a surprised giggle from her lips.

 

"Ahh! Al! That's so slimy!" she exclaimed, her laughter filling the room as he pulled her close, his kisses tender and loving as they embraced in the warmth of their newfound love, their hearts beating as one.

 

Their laughter dissolved into breathless anticipation as Alastor's lips trailed down Charlie's neck, igniting a trail of fiery desire along her skin. With each kiss, each caress, they surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of their passion, their bodies becoming one in a dance of ecstasy.

 

Their hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of each other's bodies with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Alastor's touch was electric, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through Charlie's veins as he teased and tantalized her with his skilled fingers.

 

Charlie moaned with pleasure, her body arching into his touch as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations that washed over her. She clawed at his back, her nails leaving faint marks on his skin as she urged him closer, craving more of his touch, more of his love.

 

With a primal urgency, they shed their inhibitions, their bodies intertwining in a frenzy of desire and need. In the heat of the moment, there was no room for hesitation, no room for restraint, only the insatiable hunger that consumed them both.

 

Their lovemaking was raw, uninhibited, a celebration of their deepest desires and wildest fantasies. In each other's arms, they found release, they found fulfillment, they found a love that transcended all boundaries.

 

And as they surrendered to the ecstasy of their union, they knew that they had found something truly special in each other, something that would ignite their passion for eternity.

 

As the waves of passion finally ebbed away, Charlie found herself wrapped in Alastor's embrace, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of their lovemaking. With a contented sigh, she nestled closer to him, her heart overflowing with love and satisfaction.

 

In the soft light of dawn, she awoke to find Alastor still by her side, his eyes filled with tenderness as he gently caressed her hair. The golden rays of the sun danced across his skin, casting a warm glow over his features, and in that moment, he looked more beautiful than she had ever seen him.

 

Charlie couldn't help but smile as she gazed at him, her heart swelling with love and adoration for the demon who had captured her heart. In his arms, she felt safe, she felt cherished, she felt truly alive.

 

As he looked at her with eyes full of love, she knew that she had found her soulmate, her

partner, her everything. As they lay together in the quiet embrace of morning, she whispered those three little words that meant everything to him.

 

"I love you, Alastor," she murmured, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

 

And as he returned her gaze with a smile that lit up his entire being, she knew that she was exactly where she belonged, in the arms of the demon she loved more than life itself.

Notes:

Hello! We hope you are enjoying our story and loving it! We have lots more to come! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 6: Dinner and Picnics

Summary:

They get their dinner, and Charlie suggests a picnic.

After untangling themselves from each other's embrace, Alastor, feeling remorseful, apologizes for any inconvenience and asks if he can handle dinner instead. Charlie graciously accepts, noting she won't forget the stylish heels he gifted her recently. With a bright smile, she happily agreed to let him take charge of the evening meal.

 

Closing the door to his room, Alastor settles at his desk, grappling with the weight of his recent confession. Everything spilled out, except for the poetry; perhaps he should reveal that too, or let it remain a tantalizing mystery.

 

Turning his attention to the box, he retrieves each letter, carefully stashing them away in a new hiding spot. With that task completed, he prepares himself for dinner, ready to face whatever lies ahead.

---

Charlie reveled in her newfound sense of liberation, particularly after such a memorable night. Filled with elation and contentment, she decided to indulge in a light snack before preparing for dinner.

 

As Charlie headed towards her destination, Niffty intercepted her, urgently discussing a littering problem plaguing the hotel. Upon reaching the designated room, they were surprised to find Vaggie waiting inside.

 

"What is she doing here?" Charlie inquired, puzzled by Vaggie's presence.

 

Niffty hesitated before responding, "Oh, well, Alastor was occupied and assured me he's aware of the issue, so I thought to call Vaggie for... assistance?”

 

"I actually called this meeting. In our last... encounter, you left quite a few vegetables out. That's not nice, Charlie," Vaggie said mockingly, though Charlie's temper flared quickly.

 

"What is wrong with you? I'm literally going for the second time to enjoy dinner with him, and you try to stop us, AGAIN?" Charlie's voice rose in frustration.

 

Niffty, sensing tension, cautiously interjected, "Is this about the thing I saw in the garden?"

 

Vaggie glanced at Niffty, then turned back to Charlie, feigning ignorance. "What are you talking about?" She asked, anger slipping through.

 

"It's none of your business. Niffty, please leave us," Charlie instructed, and Niffty, sensing the tension, casually exited the room.

 

Once alone, Charlie and Vaggie engaged in a heated argument. "Why can't you just let me be happy with Alastor?" Charlie's frustration boiled over. "You always have to interfere and ruin everything!"

 

Vaggie countered, her tone sharp. "I'm not trying to ruin anything, Charlie. I just don't trust him, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

 

"Well, I trust him, and that should be enough for you!" Charlie shot back, her anger evident. "You need to stop meddling in my personal life and let me make my own decisions!”

 

"...Fine," Charlie declared, her voice firm. "Leave. And don't bother me again tonight. Come back tomorrow when you can accept that I'm capable of having dinner in peace without your interference."

 

Vaggie hesitated, her expression torn between concern and frustration. "Charlie, I just want what's best for you..."

 

"I know what's best for me," Charlie interrupted, her tone final. "And right now, what's best for me is to have dinner without you breathing down my neck. Goodbye, Vaggie."

 

With a heavy sigh, Vaggie reluctantly turned and left the room, leaving Charlie to stew in her frustration and determination.

 

As Charlie retreated to her room, she reached for her makeup, intending to freshen up before dinner. As she rummaged through her belongings, her hand brushed against her journal, a source of solace and reflection.

 

Opening it gently, she sought comfort in its pages, reminding herself of her own worth and the love she was beginning to embrace. Immersed in the familiar poems, her surprise grew as she stumbled upon a new entry. 

 

Reading the heartfelt words brought a small, genuine smile to her face, filling her with a sense of warmth and reassurance amidst the turmoil of the evening.

 

Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement as she noticed a torn piece of paper nestled in the corner, reading “ On that ben ” Delicately, she picked it up, pondering over its significance. "...Bench." She whispered, a flood of memories engulfing her mind-the shared laughter, stolen glances, and whispered promises exchanged with Alastor on that very bench.

 

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as an exciting possibility began to form in her mind.

 

Could it be possible? Was Alastor the enigmatic poet, crafting their shared moments into beautiful verses? The idea thrilled her, sparking a fresh wave of curiosity and strengthening her bond with him. With each passing moment, her heart fluttered with anticipation, longing to uncover the enchanting mystery that intertwined their lives.

 

She scrutinizes the book intently, flipping through its pages and pausing at the inscription once more. Reverting it, she pores over the poems, searching for any hint or clue. Each word seems filled with meaning, but recent memories flood her mind, distracting her.

 

With a surge of anticipation, she seizes her pen, thoughts swirling with possibilities, and begins to write eagerly.

 

In the depths of your night's dark embrace,

Do I wander, haunting your dreams, leaving no trace?

As you weave your cruel symphony, do you see?

My tortured form, dancing to your melody.

I am the instrument, in your grasp I writhe,

A puppet to your whims, compelled to survive.

You pluck at my strings, coaxing forth a song,

Yet within me, a chorus of anguish longs.

Feel my pulse quicken under your command,

Aching for release, yearning for your hand.

Oh, composer of my sorrow, grant me respite,

Or in this torment, forever shall I abide.

 

She goes to move her hand, and accidentally gives herself a paper cut, and a bead of blood falls to the page. For a moment she curses, taking her finger to her lips…

 

But if it's Alastor who's been writing the poems...?" Charlie ponders with a smirk, considering the possibility that perhaps that's all he needs to express his feelings.

 

Glancing at the time, she realizes she needs to prepare for dinner. With newfound determination, she selects her outfit: a slip of a dress that leaves little to the imagination, sleeveless and short, paired with the shoes he had delivered, fitting her perfectly. She opts to wear her hair down and applies minimal makeup, wanting to exude effortless elegance for the evening ahead.

 

By seven, Charlie descended to the foyer, making her way to the softly lit dining area. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, casting a romantic ambiance. As she entered, she observed Alastor lighting the final candle, his attention turning to her.

 

She had always been stunning in red, but tonight, seeing her in this moment stirred something deep within him, something he struggled to articulate. Pausing, he poured her a glass of champagne, and she accepted it with a delicate touch, her demeanor nervous and shy.

 

Alastor couldn't help but smirk at her, his tone teasing. "I didn't see you nervous and shy earlier, my dear.”

 

She blushes deeply, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she whispers, "I shouldn't have..."

 

Alastor tuts his tongue gently, halting her self-reproach. "Darling, your desires are always valid. Know that I take pleasure in fulfilling them for you."

 

Charlie manages a smirk, attempting to hide behind her hair, but Alastor closes the distance between them, gently pushing her hair back. "Never hide from me, Charlie," he insists softly, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.

 

She meets his gaze, finding comfort in his warm eyes, and accepts his offered arm. "I do hope you will enjoy the dinner. The main dish is almost done. But, I figured maybe you’d like an appetizer? There are a few with honey, just like you like them," he offers with a charming smile.

 

Charlie's eyes light up as he uncovers a dish, revealing an assortment of delectable treats prepared just for her, featuring her favorite honey cookies. Remembering she hadn't eaten much for lunch, she eagerly tries a few different appetizers, savoring each bite. Alastor watches her intently, captivated by her graceful movements and the way she enjoys the food he prepared with such care.

 

Feeling a bit apprehensive under his watchful gaze, Charlie decides to offer him something from the appetizer selection. His smirk widens as he leans in, playfully accepting the treat from her hand. As he does, his eyes catch sight of a small band on her finger, and he instinctively captures her wrist.

 

"This wasn't there this morning?" Alastor observes, curiosity tinged with a hint of concern in his voice.

 

Charlie meets his gaze for a moment before casually shrugging. "Papercut. I was writing in my journal earlier," she explains, hoping to dismiss any suspicions he might have.

 

She watches him carefully, searching for any hints of his eyes shifting, but there were none. Instead, he excuses himself, and as soon as he enters the kitchen, his shadow swiftly delivers the journal. She wrote in it after all, didn't she?

 

Sure enough, there it was, another lovely poem... with a drop of blood. 

 

His eyes flare with a mixture of annoyance and intrigue as he instructs his shadow to put back the journal. Quickly grabbing her meal, he returns to the table, presenting it with flair and finesse.

 

Charlie takes a moment to admire the presentation and aroma of the dish, always pleasantly surprised by the culinary mastery of Alastor. As she savors each bite, she notices his lingering gaze upon her.

 

"How is it, darling?" he inquires, a hint of anticipation in his voice.

 

"It's delicious! Really delicious!" Charlie responds with genuine enthusiasm. "Where did you learn to cook?"

 

Alastor indulges her with a smile. "In my years on Earth, my dear! Can't live in New Orleans without picking up a culinary skill or two! I'd actually love to teach you sometime," he adds, his tone inviting and eager.

 

Charlie beams with delight as she takes another satisfying bite of her meal. She notices Alastor's empty plate and inquires about it, but he assures her he will eat it in just a moment. A comfortable silence settles between them, but Charlie eventually breaks it by admitting, "I write poetry in the journal."

 

Alastor looks up at her thoughtfully, a hint of surprise in his expression. "Do you? You didn't strike me as the type to enjoy poetry."

 

Charlie fidgets with the napkin in her lap, feeling a bit nervous about revealing this part of herself to him. However, she meets his gaze and nods. "Yes, I do," she confesses. "Do you?”

 

Alastor gives her a thoughtful look, his curiosity piqued, but then shrugs casually. "No, my dear. Haven't done so. But I'd be delighted to hear one of yours! If you care to share."

 

Charlie smirks at his response, but then leans away slightly. However, he gently tips her chin back towards him, his touch firm yet tender. Locking eyes with her, he reassures her with a soft gaze, "It's just me and you, Charlie.”

 

She licks her lips nervously as Alastor's fingers begin tracing delicate lines down her cheek and neck. Feeling a shiver run down her spine, she swallows hard, her heart racing with anticipation. With a deep breath, she gathers her courage and begins to recite one of his poems, her voice trembling slightly with emotion.

 

“Why choose me, amid the vast expanse? 

Your touch ignites, a fervent dance. 

Do you too feel this burning fire? 

Together, we'll face every desire.”

 

Alastor watches Charlie's face intently, his gaze lingering as she whispers the words of her poem to him. He senses her suspicion, her realization dawning upon her. Briefly hesitating, he decides to continue tracing the curves of her features with his fingers, his touch gentle yet deliberate.

 

"Beautiful words, just as is the poet," he murmurs softly, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

 

Charlie smirks in response, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can you come up with one?" she challenges, her tone teasing.

 

Alastor chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on Charlie's radiant face illuminated by the flickering candlelight. "How am I supposed to do that? You've stolen all my words in one sentence!" he jests, his tone laced with playful admiration.

 

Charlie leans in closer, her expression teasing and alluring. "Come on! I bet you have the most amazing words?" she urges, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

 

Her proximity, coupled with the enticing display of her cleavage and the desire evident in her gaze, tempts Alastor to savor the moment. However, he decides to indulge her request, albeit in his own way. Clearing his throat, he meets her gaze and begins to conjure his response.

 

Charlie listens intently as Alastor begins to recite, her curiosity piqued by his choice of words. However, as he continues, she can't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over her. The poem takes an unexpected turn, painting her in a light she hadn't quite anticipated.

 

"Oh, Charlie, such delight, In darkness, you shine like a light. A pretty little thing, yes she is, Yet a... leader for us all! Her hotel, for redemption build, Stand tall, it will, With Alastor here, hand to give!"

 

Her eyes narrow in suspicion as Alastor sits up straight, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. "No one is perfect, darling!" he declares with a hint of mischief in his voice, attempting to diffuse the tension that has settled between them.

 

She gives him a small smirk, her suspicions momentarily set aside as she shakes her head in amusement. Alastor's laughter fills the air, and he finally meets her gaze as she finishes speaking.

"Ready for dessert, my dear?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

 

Charlie smiles, her own mischief evident. "You know, I made apple tarts the other day."

Alastor hums thoughtfully, his expression contemplative. "Yes, you did! While those are an absolute treat, I was thinking of a different dessert. But first, I'll need a favor from this little princess," he adds, his tone teasing yet tinged with anticipation.

 

He looks at her with an intensity that makes it seem like he's asking for something special, and Charlie nods, her trust in him unwavering "Anything for you, Alastor," she replies without hesitation.

 

"You are such a good girl, Charlie," Alastor whispers, his voice low and commanding. The flickering firelight casts eerie shadows across his face, adding to the intensity of the moment "I need you, naked, and then come to me," he instructs, his words sending a shiver down her spine. Despite the atmosphere, Charlie nods in agreement, her resolve unbroken.

 

She's a bit apprehensive, but she begins to undress nonetheless, the fabric of her dress slipping off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. Her underwear falls as well, but as she reaches for her heels, Alastor's gesture stops her in her tracks. With a wave of his hand, he signals for her to halt, then beckons her over with a subtle gesture of his fingers.

 

She approaches him tentatively, her heart pounding in her chest. Alastor shifts his chair back slightly, creating space between them. "My dear, meals should be savored on tables. Don't you agree?" he murmurs, his voice smooth yet authoritative.

 

Charlie's body trembles with anticipation as she perches herself on the edge of the table, facing Alastor. His smile only adds to the electricity in the air as she settles with her ass resting against the smooth surface. In an attempt to compose herself, she instinctively moves to cross her legs.

 

However, Alastor gently tuts his tongue in disapproval. "Oh, my dear," he chides softly, his tone both commanding and enticing. "I would prefer to enjoy my feast spread out before me.”

 

Charlie inhales deeply, her heart racing as she obeys Alastor's command, reclining back on the table. With a sensual grace, she extends her legs, her heeled feet delicately resting on the smooth surface, and spreads them slightly, offering herself up for his gaze. Each breath she takes feels charged with anticipation and desire.

 

Alastor pours himself a glass of wine, his eyes roaming over her form with a hunger that sends shivers down her spine "Look at you, Charlie," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Not only a beautiful soul, but so delicious physically. How could an angel even understand the beauty of the Princess of Hell? You are the most delectable star, shining every day. Such a pretty treat for the eyes..." His words, filled with admiration and lust wash over her like a caress, igniting a fierce longing within her.

 

He takes a leisurely sip of the wine, savoring its flavor, while Charlie bites her lip in anticipation, her desire palpable in the air. "I can think of something that tastes much better," she murmurs seductively, her voice dripping with desire.

 

Alastor hums in agreement, setting the wine glass down with deliberate care. His gaze lingers on the curls near her swollen southern lips, a hunger burning in his eyes. Closing the distance between them, he admires her with a predatory intensity.

 

As he draws nearer Charlie tenses with anticipation, longing for his touch. But instead of fulfilling her expectations, he simply breathes her in, relishing her scent. Then, with tantalizing slowness, he nips at her thigh, teasing her with the promise of pleasure. 

 

Charlie sighs in response, squirming with anticipation, desperate for more.

 

"Darling, I want to enjoy this meal," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as he savors the anticipation of what's to come. He takes a bottle in hand, its contents cool and sticky as he begins to drizzle it over her flesh, tracing delicate patterns on her thighs. Charlie's breath catches in her throat as the sensation sends shivers of anticipation through her body. She meets his smirk with a coy smile, her eyes alight with desire as his tongue follows the path of the honey, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

 

"Honey, Charlie," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "Now, do be a dear and let me savor.”

 

She leans back, surrendering to the pleasure of his skilled ministrations as he skillfully licks the honey from her skin. Each touch sends waves of ecstasy coursing through her veins, igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume her entirely. However, as he ventures higher, she can't help but squirm under his touch, craving more of his intoxicating attention.

 

Frustration bubbles within her as she realizes that every time she moves, he withdraws, leaving her yearning for more. She huffs in annoyance, her desire mounting with each passing moment. It's a tantalizing game of give and take, leaving her craving the ultimate release that only he can provide.

 

She fights against every instinct urging her to squirm as he draws near, determined to remain still under his tantalizing gaze. Charlie can practically feel the smirk playing on his lips as she resists the urge to move, his words sending a thrill down her spine.

 

"Such a good little treat, darling," he purrs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Wanting to properly indulge in my dessert."

 

A soft moan escapes her lips as she finally feels his tongue on her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. Alastor doesn't hold back, his tongue dancing skillfully over her sensitive flesh, sending her spiraling into ecstasy. She squirms beneath him, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she softly pleads for more.

 

Unable to resist her begging, he tightens his grip on her thighs, pulling her closer as he continues to lavish attention on her most intimate of places. Each lick and suck sends waves of pleasure crashing over her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

 

She bucks against him, aching for release, but he maintains control, his pace deliberate and tantalizing. Frustration gnaws at her as he continues to take his time, pushing her to the brink of desperation. Determined not to let him see her agitation she reaches over to her plate, grabbing another bite and feeding herself. If she can't have what she wants, then she'll at least enjoy her meal.

 

Alastor notices the subtle shift in her movements, and he leans up to watch her, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he observes her eating. Charlie smirks at his reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Al..." she teases, her voice laced with playful defiance.

 

"Minx.." he whispers, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Charlie bites her lip as she watches his antlers grow, a familiar sign of his transformation into his demon form. But she forgets about the other changes that come with it until it's too late.

 

His tongue, now longer and almost snake-like, sends a thrill of apprehension through her as he leans down, his tongue fully engulfing her, plunging her into a world of overwhelming pleasure. She stiffens at first, but soon surrenders to the intense sensations coursing through her body.

 

She reaches the peak of ecstasy quickly under the skilled ministrations of his demon tongue, her release washing over her in a tidal wave of pleasure. Alastor doesn't waste a single drop of her essence, his smile widening as he watches her bask in the afterglow of her climax.

 

"Goodness, my dear," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration. "I could become addicted to you." His words linger in the air, hanging between them like a promise of pleasures yet to come.

 

With a breathy laugh, Charlie meets his gaze as he helps her back up, a warmth spreading through her as their lips meet in a passionate kiss. The taste of her lingers on his tongue, igniting a fiery desire between them that cannot be extinguished.

---

Afterwards, Alastor guides Charlie to her room, his touch gentle yet possessive as he leads her inside. With tender care, he helps her slip into her pajamas, his fingers lingering on her curves as he caresses her softly, his touch igniting a fire within her that refuses to be tamed. Despite the late hour, the air crackles with anticipation, a silent promise of the passion that simmers just beneath the surface.

 

Charlie expresses her gratitude, thanking him for his kindness and care. With a weary sigh, she admits to feeling tired, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Alastor nods understandingly, a fond smile gracing his lips as he picks up a hairbrush nearby.

 

Gently guiding her to rest her head on his lap, he begins to brush her blonde hair with tender strokes, his touch soothing and comforting. As he works through the tangles, he offers words of praise and admiration, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet of the room. Charlie listens, feeling the tension melt away with each stroke of the brush, basking in the warmth of his affection and the comforting rhythm of his ministrations.

 

"Your hair is like spun gold, my dear," Alastor murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "So soft and radiant, like the rays of the morning sun." He brushes through her locks with care, marveling at their silky texture. "And your beauty... it knows no bounds. You are a vision of elegance and grace, a beacon of light in the darkness."

 

His words wash over Charlie like a soothing melody, warming her heart and easing her weary soul. She closes her eyes, allowing herself to bask in his praise, feeling cherished and loved in his presence. As he continues to brush her hair, she drifts into a peaceful slumber, content in the knowledge that she is cherished by the one she holds dear.

 

Alastor leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Charlie's forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he tucks her into bed with tender care. He watches her for a moment, admiring the peaceful expression on her face as she drifts off to sleep. 

 

For a fleeting moment, he considers joining her in bed, drawn to her warmth and the comforting presence she provides. But ultimately, he decides against it, knowing that he has other duties to attend to. With a soft sigh, he quietly slips out of her room, his thoughts filled with the desire to write in the journal before retiring for the night himself.

As he settles into his own room, he takes out the journal and a pen, his mind filled with thoughts of Charlie and the events of the evening. With a sense of purpose, he begins to write, pouring his thoughts and feelings onto the pages, knowing that each word brings him closer to understanding the enigmatic woman who has captured his heart.

 

In the quiet of his room, Alastor's pen glides across the pages of the journal, the ink flowing effortlessly as he captures the essence of the evening's events with each word, he delves deeper into his thoughts and feelings, his mind swirling with memories of Charlie and the intoxicating allure she exudes.

 

As he reflects on their time together, a poem begins to take shape in his mind, inspired by the passion and desire that had consumed them both. With a sense of urgency, he sets the pen to paper, his words flowing like a river of emotion.

 

In the darkness of the night, his thoughts turn to her, to the taste of honey on her skin and the way her body quivered beneath his touch. He recalls the way she moaned his name, her voice a melody of pleasure as he devoured her with fervent hunger.

 

In the hush of night, underneath candle's glow, 

Where passion's flame doth brightly show, 

Two souls entwined, in lover's dance, 

Lost in the throes of sweet romance.

A taste of honey, upon her skin,

A sinful delight, a tempting sin, 

As lips caress with fervent desire, 

Igniting flames that burn like fire.

Her moans, a melody of pure delight, 

As I drink deep of her sweet respite, 

With each tender kiss, each whispered plea, 

Her essence, a symphony, setting me free.

In the softness of her embrace, 

I find solace, a sacred space, 

Where time stands still, and all is right, 

In the warmth of her loving light.

But as the night begins to wane, 

And dawn breaks forth, with golden mane, 

I hold her close, in sweet embrace, 

Knowing this love, I'Il never replace.

 

Satisfied with the poem penned in the journal, Alastor makes his way back to Charlie's room. With a soft smile, he slips under the covers beside her, his heart overflowing with love and contentment. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulls her close, relishing in the warmth of her presence.

---

Charlie woke up feeling refreshed, wrapped in the warmth of Alastor's embrace. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against hers was like a soothing lullaby, calming her restless thoughts from the night before. She shifted slightly, nestling closer to him, her heart swelling with love as she gazed at his peaceful sleeping face.

 

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room as Charlie traced the lines of Alastor's face with her fingertips. His features were etched with a quiet strength, and she couldn't help but marvel at the depth of his love for her. She leaned in to press a tender kiss against his lips, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

Alastor stirred awake, his eyes fluttering open to meet Charlie's gaze with a drowsy smile. He murmured her name like a prayer, his voice husky with sleep, and pulled her closer to him. They lingered in each other's arms, basking in the intimacy of the morning, before finally summoning the willpower to leave the comfort of their bed.

 

As they sat up, Charlie's mind buzzed with the possibilities of the day ahead. She yearned for adventure, a break from the routine of their daily lives, and a chance to create new memories together. Turning to Alastor, she asked him what he thought about going on a picnic date, a hint of excitement dancing in her eyes.

 

Alastor's face lit up with enthusiasm at the suggestion, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He loved nothing more than spending time with Charlie, exploring the world and making every moment count. With a grin, he eagerly agreed to her idea, already envisioning the perfect spot for their outdoor rendezvous.

 

He suggested a nearby park that he had visited before, boasting of its picturesque scenery and tranquil atmosphere.

As they discussed their plans, Alastor's excitement grew contagious, and Charlie found herself eagerly anticipating the adventure they were about to embark on together.

 

With a newfound spring in their step, Charlie and Alastor made their way back to the hotel's kitchen, their minds buzzing with anticipation for the day ahead. They raided the kitchen for delicious treats, carefully selecting an assortment of sandwiches, fruits, and sweets to pack into their picnic basket. Charlie couldn't help but giggle as Alastor insisted on bringing along a bottle of wine, just to add a touch of elegance to their outing.

 

As they gathered their supplies, the air in their space was filled with laughter and playful banter, the excitement of the moment heightening their senses. Charlie felt a rush of gratitude for the simple pleasures of life, for the opportunity to spend quality time with the person she loved most in the world.

 

With their picnic basket packed to the brim and their hearts full of anticipation, Charlie and Alastor set off hand in hand, ready to make the most of the day ahead. They walked through the bustling city streets, the sounds of traffic and chatter fading into the background as they focused on each other.

 

With their picnic basket in hand, Charlie and Alastor entered the park, the vibrant colors of nature enveloping them in a blanket of tranquility. The scent of fresh flowers hung in the air, mingling with the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves as they wandered deeper into the heart of the park.

 

As they walked hand in hand along the winding paths, Charlie couldn't shake the feeling of excitement coursing through her veins. The world seemed to come alive around them, every tree and flower whispering secrets of adventure and possibility.

 

Suddenly, an idea sparked in Charlie's mind, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. She turned to Alastor with a playful smile, suggesting they explore some of the park's more secluded areas, away from prying eyes. Alastor's grin mirrored hers as he eagerly agreed, his pulse quickening with anticipation.

With a shared sense of adventure, they veered off the main path and into a secluded grove, the dense foliage providing a veil of privacy. Here, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the thrill of their secret escapade, Charlie and Alastor let their inhibitions run wild.

 

Their laughter echoed through the trees as they chased each other playfully, their touches growing bolder with each passing moment. They found a secluded clearing and spread out their picnic blanket, the soft grass beneath them serving as their private sanctuary.

 

With their picnic feast spread out before them, Charlie and Alastor settled onto the soft blanket, their bodies entwined in a cocoon of warmth and affection. They savored each bite of food, the flavors exploding on their tongues as they laughed and talked, lost in the blissful simplicity of the moment.

 

As they ate, Charlie couldn't help but steal glances at Alastor, marveling at the way the light danced across his features, casting a halo of golden light around him. She reached out to gently caress his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

Alastor responded with a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he felt for her. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

 

Lost in the warmth of each other's embrace, Charlie and Alastor nuzzled against one another, their hearts beating in perfect harmony. They reveled in the simple pleasure of being together, their worries and cares melting away in the presence of their love.

As they lay entwined beneath the shade of the oak tree, Charlie felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over her. In this moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Alastor's love, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

 

With a contented sigh she nestled closer to Alastor, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. In the peaceful serenity of the park, they shared a quiet moment of intimacy, their souls entwined in a bond that transcended time and space.

 

As Charlie and Alastor lay wrapped in each other's arms, their love igniting like a flame in the heart of the park, they shared tender kisses that spoke volumes of their affection. Each touch was electric, sending shivers down their spines as they surrendered to the intoxicating rush of desire.

 

But as their passion reached its peak, a soft patter of raindrops began to fall from the sky, sprinkling their skin with cool droplets. At first, they paid no mind to the gentle rain, too lost in each other to notice the world around them.

 

Charlie let out a squeal as the rain came down, but Alastor just laughed and pulled her closer. "Come on, let's make the most of it," he said, pulling her down onto the blanket with him.

 

They lay there for a moment, laughing and kissing in the rain. Alastor's hands began to wander, and he soon found himself playing with Charlie's firm, round breasts. She moaned softly as he tweaked her nipples through the fabric of her shirt, and he could feel her body responding to his touch.

 

Without a word, Alastor pulled Charlie's shirt up over her head, revealing her perky, pink nipples. He leaned down and took one in his mouth, sucking and licking until Charlie was squirming with pleasure.

 

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, their tongues dancing together as the rain continued to fall around them. Alastor's hands roamed Charlie's body, feeling the curves of her hips and the softness of her breasts. Charlie moaned into the kiss, her hands reaching up to tangle in Alastor's hair. She could feel his growing arousal pressing against her, and she rubbed against him, feeling a surge of desire.

 

Alastor broke the kiss and trailed his lips down Charlie's neck, eliciting a soft moan from her. He nibbled on her earlobe, whispering, "You're so beautiful, Charlie."

Charlie arched her back as Alastor's hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts and nipples. He tweaked her nipples gently, causing her to gasp. Alastor took this opportunity to kiss her again, their tongues intertwining in a passionate dance.

 

He whispers into her ear, "My dear, you are already soaked. What's a little more water?” Alastor trailed his kisses down Charlie's body, reaching her jeans. He undid the button and zipper, sliding his hand inside. Alastor's hand found its way to Charlie's wet panties, and he could feel how damp she was. Charlie moaned as Alastor's fingers found her clit, already swollen with desire. He rubbed slow circles around her clit, causing Charlie to moan louder.

 

As they continued to explore each other's bodies, the rain came down harder and harder. But neither of them cared. They were too lost in their own world, consumed by their desire for each other.

 

He slipped a finger inside her, and she gasped at the intrusion. He started to move his finger in and out, and Charlie's hips began to rock in time with his movements. Charlie's hips bucked as Alastor slipped another finger inside her pussy. He added a second finger, thrusting them in and out of her. Charlie's moans grew louder as Alastor quickened his pace, bringing her closer to orgasm.

 

Charlie's pussy clenched around Alastor's fingers as she came, her moans echoing through the park. Alastor withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and tasting her wetness.

 

The rain poured down around them, soaking the picnic blanket and the grass beneath it. Alastor and Charlie didn't mind, they were too caught up in each other. Charlie, with her soaking wet blonde hair, straddled Alastor, her knees sinking into the damp earth.

 

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Charlie's hands roamed over Alastor's chest, feeling the muscles beneath his wet shirt. Alastor's hands gripped Charlie's hips, pulling her closer against him.

 

Charlie's kisses trailed down Alastor's neck, nibbling and licking at the sensitive skin. Alastor let out a low moan as Charlie's fingers began to undo his pants. He lifted his hips, allowing Charlie to pull them down, freeing his hard cock.

 

Charlie positioned herself above Alastor, slowly lowering herself onto his cock. Alastor's head fell back as he felt himself being enveloped by Charlie's wet heat. Charlie let out a low moan as she began to move her hips, grinding against Alastor.

 

The rain provided a natural lubricant, making the movement of Charlie's hips against Alastor's cock smooth and easy. Charlie leaned forward, her blonde hair falling in a curtain around them, shielding them from the rain.

 

Alastor's hands gripped Charlie's hips, helping her move against him. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, but he held back, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible.

 

Charlie increased her pace, her moans growing louder. Alastor's fingers dug into her hips as he felt himself being pushed towards the brink. With one final thrust, he came hard inside of Charlie, his moans mixing with hers.

 

Charlie collapsed on top of Alastor, her hair still shielding them from the rain. Breathless, Charlie layed beside Alastor, lying down beside her. They lay there, their bodies entwined, as the rain continued to fall around them.

 

But soon, the rain grew stronger, the droplets turning into a steady downpour that drenched them to the bone. With a laugh, Charlie and Alastor scrambled to gather their belongings, their picnic blanket quickly becoming sodden beneath them.

 

As they huddled together beneath the shelter of the oak tree, their laughter mingled with the sound of raindrops drumming against the leaves above. Despite the sudden change in weather, they found themselves unable to wipe the smiles from their faces, their spirits buoyed by the magic of the moment.

 

With a playful twinkle in her eye, Charlie leaned in to steal a kiss from Alastor, the raindrops mingling with their lips in a sweet symphony of love. In that instant, nothing else mattered but the warmth of their embrace and the fierce devotion they shared for one another.

 

As the rain continued to fall around them, Charlie and Alastor held each other close, finding solace in the comfort of their love. And as they stood together beneath the stormy sky, they knew that no matter what challenges life may bring, as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm.

---

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, the storm casts shadows on long corridors, as Vaggie has Keekee in her arms. Alastor and Charlie had left sometime earlier, and now was her chance to find the box that she had.

 

Vaggie realizes that the damning evidence truthfully should be told to Charlie. Charlie had moved on, fairly quicker than Vaggie would have liked, but it wasn’t that she had moved on, it’s that Alastor was the one she had moved on with.

 

She lifts Keekee, the cat becoming the master key of the hotel and opens the door to Alastor’s bedroom, the key turning back to a cat once she’s done. 

 

Vaggie narrows her eye in the dark room, walking around to try to understand what she’s working with, she notices a set of drawers and looks underneath it, but no box. She moves over to a wardrobe where she opens it, revealing just two more red coats of his. She shuts them quietly.

 

She walks over towards his desk, and in doing so finds the said box. A relief comes over her as she goes to grab it. But before she does, she notices a journal. One eerily similar to Charlie’s. Did Alastor have her journal? Why? What would he even need it for!?

 

She opens it, and begins to look over the poems, each one more and more loving and erotic, of sinful pleasures but also of love and sadness mixed in. She notices the poems of Charlie’s in her pink pens script. It’s the ones in red she doesn’t get, until she notices the pen that sits beside it, she opens it and scribbles in one corner of the journal, and sure enough, there is the same ink.

 

She still doesn’t fully get it. Are they passing it back and forth? She flips it over, noticing that the message Charlie had read that first night was gone. Even more confused, she had what she needed, and took the box, racing out of the room and straight to hers.

 

Vaggie places the box down, but hears people yelling out in the main areas. She quickly goes down, as Niffty is having a moment.

 

“You two are soaked to the bone!” Niffty says, as Charlie and Alastor look towards her. Alastor looks at Charlie, who smirks.

 

“Ah, yes, Niffty. I apologize for us getting the carpet all wet. We got all caught up in the storm before our picnic!”

 

Angel Dust comes over, “Really? You guys couldn’t see those clouds? They were as dark and menacing as you are Al. Speaking of, since when did the two of you go on picnics?”

 

Niffty delights in an idea, “Oh! This is great material for my fanfic! I have to go write this down!” She scampers off before Charlie could speak. Angel Dust follows her.

 

“Listen if it’s smutty I want to hear it! I’ll be the beta reader too!”

 

Charlie looks at Alastor with a knowing smirk on her face, “I’m going to go change.”

 

Alastor smirks at her, and notices the eye watching the two of them from the upper level of the hotel, “Delightful idea. Meet me in my room in twenty minutes, my dear. I’ll light a fire, and we can finish the wine.”

 

Charlie smirks, as she races upstairs. Vaggie comes into view, Alastor looking up at her, “Find what you were looking for?”

 

Vaggie folds her arms, “Wasn’t like you were really hiding it. I expected more from you.”

 

Alastor beams, “Ah, you’d be surprised by all the tricks I have learned in my years. Quite a problem when those who try to undermine me make horrible mistakes.”

 

Vaggie sneers, “Why do you have Charlie’s journal, Alastor?”

 

Alastor, soaked and doesn’t care for it any longer, trots up the stairs, “Why, I remember my journal. Tsk, tsk, Vagatha. You shouldn’t be looking through things that are meant for their eyes only. ” 

 

He is quite upset that Vaggie had seen the words poured out to her ex. Vaggie grimaces but stands tall, “Yeah, that’s shit. You looked through my stuff I’m sure.”

 

Alastor finally makes it to the floor and walks up to her, “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. Who knows, either way. The truth will set you free. If I were you, I’d make sure you have everything you need, Vaggie.”

 

He trails off, leaving her as he walks back to his room, “Now, I’m to go change. I have company.”

 

Vaggie doesn’t understand what he’s on about and goes back to her room. She grabs the box with a slight sigh, and takes a breath.

 

Her growl of frustration is heard down the hall, as nothing is in the box except one note from Alastor, telling her that she is still steps behind him, and always will be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Thank you guys for reading!! Please leave us a comment if you like!

Chapter 7: Your Secrets and Lies

Summary:

Lucifer visits and secrets are revealed!

In the dimly lit room, the only source of light was the gentle flicker of a small fire. Alastor had arranged for it to be set up in his private quarters, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere that was far removed from the chaos outside. The flames danced in the fireplace, casting warm, shifting shadows across the room.

 

Charlie nestled against him, her golden hair catching the firelight, creating a halo-like glow around her. She sighed contentedly, her head resting on his shoulder. Alastor, ever the gentleman despite his demonic nature, wrapped his arm around her, drawing her closer. The fire crackled softly, adding to the serene ambiance.

 

With deliberate gentleness, Alastor’s hand began to trace the curves of her body. His fingers moved slowly, caressing the small of her back and then gliding up to her waist. Charlie shivered slightly at his touch, a pleasant sensation tingling down her spine. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and curiosity.

 

"Do you know," Alastor murmured, his voice low and velvety, "how much light you bring to this place? To me?"

 

Charlie’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the slight stubble that lined his jaw. "You have a funny way of showing it sometimes," she teased, her voice soft and playful.

 

A rare, genuine smile curved Alastor’s lips. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But in moments like this, I can show it properly." His hand continued its tender exploration, moving up to her shoulder and then down her arm, his touch feather-light.

 

Charlie leaned into him, her heart beating a steady, content rhythm. "I’m glad we have this time together," she whispered. "It feels... peaceful."

 

Alastor nodded, his eyes reflecting the firelight, giving them an almost otherworldly gleam. "Peace is a precious commodity here," he said. "But with you, it feels attainable."

 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the warmth of the fire and each other’s presence. Alastor’s hand never ceased its gentle caress, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled Charlie into a state of serene bliss. She felt safe in his embrace, a rare and cherished feeling in their tumultuous world.

 

The fire continued to crackle softly, filling the room with a gentle warmth that contrasted with the cold world outside. Alastor watched as Charlie's breathing slowed, her body melting into his embrace. The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around them like a protective cocoon.

 

He shifted slightly, adjusting their position so she could be more comfortable. Charlie's head now rested against his chest, her ear pressed close enough to hear the steady beat of his heart. Alastor's hand moved from her shoulder, tracing the elegant curve of her neck before settling on the small of her back once more, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her skin.

 

"You have no idea how much I cherish these moments," Alastor whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "It's in these quiet times that I find a part of myself I thought was long lost."

 

Charlie opened her eyes slightly, her gaze meeting his. There was a tenderness in her eyes that made Alastor's heartache in the most pleasant way. She reached up, her hand resting on his cheek, her thumb gently stroking the sharp lines of his face.

 

"I feel the same," she replied softly. "It's like the world outside doesn't exist when I'm with you."

 

Alastor's smile was soft, almost reverent. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. It was slow and sweet, a testament to the depth of his feelings. Charlie responded in kind, her hand moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

 

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing slightly heavier. The connection between them was palpable, a silent promise of love and devotion.

 

Charlie shifted in his arms, turning slightly so she could look at the fire. Alastor wrapped both arms around her, holding her close against him. She nestled into his embrace, her back pressed against his chest, his chin resting atop her head. They watched the flames dance together, the firelight reflecting in their eyes.

 

"This is perfect," Charlie murmured. "Just you, me, and the fire."

 

Alastor nodded, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly. "Indeed," he agreed. "I wish for many more nights like this, where we can just be together without any worries or interruptions."

 

Charlie smiled, tilting her head back to look up at him. "We'll have them," she said with quiet determination. "I believe we will."

 

Alastor kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there as he took in her scent, the feel of her in his arms. "You give me hope, Charlie," he whispered. "More than you know."

 

They fell silent again, content to simply be in each other's presence. The fire continued to burn, its warmth enveloping them in a comforting embrace. Alastor's hands roamed gently over Charlie's body, memorizing every curve, every line. His touch was reverent as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.

 

Charlie sighed happily, snuggling deeper into his arms. "I love you, Alastor," she whispered, the words filled with a sincerity that made his heart swell.

 

"And I love you, my dear Charlie," he replied, his voice filled with emotion. "More than words can express."

 

As the night wore on and the fire slowly died down, they remained entwined, holding each other close. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The world outside could wait, for they had found their sanctuary in each other’s arms, a love that burned as brightly as the fire before them.

 

The fire had dimmed to a gentle glow, casting a soft, amber light over the room. Charlie and Alastor remained entwined, savoring the tranquility of their moment together. The serenity was palpable, an oasis in the chaos of their world.

 

Suddenly, a shrill ring pierced the quiet. Charlie startled slightly, her peaceful expression giving way to concern. Alastor’s brows furrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face as he reached for the source of the disruption. 

 

"It's late for calls," he muttered, picking up the phone.

 

Charlie straightened, her eyes widening as she recognized the number. "It's my father," she whispered, her voice tinged with unease.

 

Alastor’s gaze softened with understanding. He handed her the phone, his fingers brushing hers in a silent gesture of support. Charlie took a deep breath before answering.

 

"Hi, Dad," she greeted, trying to keep her voice steady while Alastor was doing little circles around her legs.

 

"Hello, Char Char!" Lucifer’s voice came through, smooth and commanding. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything important."

 

Charlie forced a smile, though her father couldn’t see it. "No, just relaxing. What’s up?" She was trying to concentrate on the conversation at hand, which proved a hard task as Alastor's hands roamed higher and higher throughout her legs.

 

"I wanted to inform you that I’ll be visiting tomorrow," Lucifer announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. Charlie's stomach tightened. "Tomorrow? Is everything ok-ahhhy?!" Charlie squeaked as Alastor squeezed her inner thigh, his chuckle was thankfully only heard by her.

 

"Nothing to worry about," Lucifer replied. "Just a father wanting to visit his daughter.” The line went dead before Charlie could respond. She lowered the phone slowly, her mind racing. Alastor watched her intently, his hand resting reassuringly on her thigh.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

 

Charlie sighed, leaning into his touch. "My father is coming over tomorrow."

 

Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Lucifer making casual visits? When did that happen?” 

Charlie nodded, her worry evident. "I just hope it’s not bad news."

 

Alastor pulled her close again, his arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. "Whatever it is, we’ll face it together," he assured her, his voice firm and comforting.

 

Charlie looked up at him, her anxiety easing slightly at his words. "Thank you, Alastor. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

 

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You’ll never have to find out," he promised.

 

They settled back down, the fire's warmth providing a semblance of comfort. Charlie nestled into Alastor's embrace once more, her worries momentarily soothed by his presence. The crackling of the fire filled the silence, a reminder that despite the impending visit, they still had this moment of peace.

 

Early morning was met with tangled up limbs and whispers. Charlie nuzzled into Alastor, who wrapped an arm around her, “Darling, we do need to get up.”

 

Charlie sighs, and looks over at him, “Fine.”

 

Alastor hums, “I have no problem with staying in bed. But I remember someone’s father telling her she was visiting this morning.”

 

Charlie’s eyes widen as she jumps, “Shit! He didn’t say what time he could be here already!”

 

She untangles from him and jumps out of the bed, grabbing her silky pajamas and robe she came in from the night before and throwing it on. Alastor watches her, leaning back and admiring her from his place in the bed. Watching her jump at the mere thought of her father coming makes him annoyed, as she pulls back on the lingerie, he grabs her back to bed, “Darling, by all means, calm down. It’s just your father.”

 

Charlie frowns, “If he’s popping in, he’s making sure his ‘investment’ in the garden is exactly what it is.”

 

Charlie huffs as he gently kisses her bare shoulders, and his hands become mischievous, “Fine. Do as you need to, my dear.”

 

She reaches to kiss him and then leaves, running to her room to change. She decides on a sun dress, to show off the garden, and proceeds to put up her hair, looking at the journal on her desk.

 

Ok, she had been with him all night, there was no time for anything to happen.

 

But as she reads the poem, her eyes light up. Honey? It had to be!

 

She remembers yesterday fondly and grabs her pen, eager to pen something, she had to! This had to be Alastor!? 

 

She takes several moments to write, too many wonton moments that she feels, and writes it out:

 

In twilight's tender, dusky veil, 

Where whispered winds softly exhale, 

Alastor's touch, a silken trail, 

Licking honey from my frame, frail.

 

Raindrops dance in liquid grace, 

A symphony of sweet embrace, 

Our bodies merge in sacred space, 

Beneath the sky's celestial lace.

 

Warmth of fire, fierce desire, 

Kindles flames that never tire, 

In the rain, our hearts conspire, 

To burn with love's eternal pyre.

 

Lightning's flash, a fleeting spark, 

Illuminates the night's dark, 

As passion's whispers leave their mark, 

In the shadowed, hidden park.

 

Alastor's lips, like honey, sweet, 

Trace the rhythm of my heartbeat, 

In this dance, where souls meet, 

Our love, a tempest, fierce and fleet.

 

The rain and fire, they intertwine, 

In moments sacred, pure, divine, 

With every kiss, our spirits shine, 

In the glow of love's design.

 

The rain intensifies, a lover's song,

Each drop a note where we belong,

Beneath the heavens, wild and strong,

Our bodies blend, where dreams prolong.

 

Alastor's eyes, dark pools of night,

Reflect the storm, the fiery light,

In his gaze, the world feels right,

A canvas painted in sheer delight.

 

The earth beneath, a softened bed,

Where love's secrets are gently spread,

In the warmth, our fears have fled,

To the symphony above our head.

 

The fire within, a ceaseless blaze,

Guides us through the night's thick haze,

In this world of rain-soaked praise,

Our love's a torch, an endless maze.

 

His hands, like whispers, traverse my skin,

Mapping the landscapes deep within,

Each touch, a plea, a silent hymn,

To the night where passions brim.

 

Thunder rumbles, a primal roar,

Matching the rhythm of our core,

In the rain, we both explore,

The depths where love can soar.

 

As dawn approaches, skies will clear,

But this night, forever dear,

Will linger on, always near,

A memory etched in fire and tear.

 

Alastor, sweet with honey's trace,

In rain and fire, our sacred place,

In every storm, in every grace,

Our love endures, a timeless space.

 

In the rain, my skin glistens bright, 

Alastor's touch, a lover's delight, 

His tongue traces paths through the night,

Licking honey with hunger and might.

 

Drops of nectar on my skin, 

He savors slowly, then dives in, 

Each taste a journey to begin, 

Desire's dance, the sweetest sin.

 

His lips trail, soft and warm, 

In every kiss, a brewing storm, 

My body arching to his form, 

In the rain, where passions swarm.

 

Honey drips, a golden stream, 

A luscious part of our shared dream, 

Each touch, each taste, a lover's scheme, 

In the night where desires gleam.

 

Alastor's mouth, with honey sweet, 

Explores my curves, the passion's heat, 

My moans rise up, a symphony complete, just for him,

In this embrace where worlds meet.

 

His hands find honeyed trails to trace, 

In every curve, in every place, 

Licking sweetness, setting pace, 

For the fire's wild embrace.

 

A fusion of pleasure, a hint of pain, 

His tongue, his touch, drive me insane, 

In this storm where love's unchained.

 

Each drop of honey, each caress, 

Builds a heat I can't suppress, 

In the rain, love's raw finesse, 

A moment of pure, wild excess.

 

What comes as just a few words takes up a page or two. She smirks but then when she hears voices she slams it shut and runs, as Vaggie and Angel Dust come popping into the hall, “Hey, Blondie. Dad’s here.”

 

Angel Dust leaves the two girls in the hall, and Vaggie crosses her arms, “We have to talk.”

 

Charlie looks at her like she has gotten back her other eye, “Vaggie! My Dad is downstairs! I can’t keep him waiting!”

 

“Oh, so, are you going to tell him about this relationship with Alastor?”

 

Charlie stops. She turns. She looks at her ex-girlfriend with a hard expression, “I don’t…”

 

“Alastor and you can’t keep apart for an hour, let alone the man loathes your dad. He’ll figure it out.” Vaggie says, but sighs, “Listen I found…”

 

Charlie interrupts, “So, I’ll make do! I have to go!”

 

Charlie running down past her makes Vaggie growl in frustration. 

 

Charlie runs down the steps and lands on the last step to see Alastor looking at Lucifer with a wide grin. Lucifer finally turns, “There you are Charlie! What were you doing?”

 

Charlie laughs nervously, “I’m sorry. Just…writing in my journal. Well! What brings you to the hotel?”

 

Alastor raises an eyebrow at that. The clue to keep for later is to check the counterpart to his.

 

Lucifer holds out his hands, “Well, the garden of course! But first I want to go over some of the documents and such. You’ve got the time, correct?”

 

Of course she does, she has no choice. She points to the dining room where she follows her father. Alastor follows the two of them and glides to the front, eager to have Lucifer sit down…

 

At the very same spot, he had Charlie at dinner. 

 

Charlie makes a face of shock and turns toward Alastor in embarrassment but Alastor shrugs, pulling a chair to Lucifer’s right for Charlie. She thanks him, and Lucifer rolls his eyes at Alastor, “Your uh…business partner doesn’t have to be here.”

 

“While I know it seems a bit unorthodox…” Alastor pulls the other chair right next to Charlie, who just sits with a nervous smile, being in between the two men she does love but also knows that they despise the other, makes her slightly nervous, “I did help with all the financial pieces of the proposal.”

 

Charlie listens as Alastor talks about her plans. She’s actually thrilled he remembered a lot of them, and can’t help but smile eagerly at him. She feels like he has been trying to understand her ideas, and feels like she has been heard for the last few days. Unlike her ex.

 

She watches her Dad get heated about something Alastor has said, and can’t help but feel embarrassed as Lucifer puts his elbow right where she was fully displayed to Alastor just the day before. Memories of his eager tongue and sensual words, she squeezes her thighs. Alastor glances at her a moment, but sneers at a remark from her father.

 

Charlie puts her hand on his thigh to calm him, and he settles slightly. She tries to listen to the conversation and nods and questions when needed, but her mind has other ideas.

 

As her father laughs at Alastor and his “stupid idea”, Charlie begins to trace her hand upwards, gliding softly towards her destination. She wonders if Alastor will even stop her. But when Alastor leans back in his chair, she smirks.

 

Lucifer looks at her, “What’s got you smiling, Char?”

 

Charlie scrambles for words, “Just how…delighted I am that you were able to help out, Dad! Without you, the garden wouldn’t have been a success!”

 

She inhales deeply, however, when she feels his hand on hers, lifting it slightly to cup the growing bulge in his pants. For a moment as Lucifer preens himself on such an “excellent job”, Charlie gently rubs his hard cock through the fabric of his pants.

 

It’s when Alastor speaks a bit louder, that she realizes his other hand has already undone the button of his pants, and pulled down the zipper, as he talks about some of the “great things” they have planned for the garden.

 

Charlie doesn’t know where her boldness comes from. In a way, Alastor makes her feel good and confident about herself, but this was literally her touching him under the table with the King of Hell right at her other side. She hesitates, until his hand not on the table comes down, and as if he knows her hesitation, adjusts to have his hard member out of his pants for her to explore.

 

Charlie bites her lip, trying to look normal and not like she’s jerking off the Radio Demon as her father goes on and on about how “work wasn’t like it used to be.” And “sinners used to actually ‘sin’” or something along those lines.

 

She starts at a slow pace, being careful not to make too much movement to allow for them to be caught. Alastor moves both hands now to the front of him, where Lucifer can see them, and not to give anything away. Charlie nods along to Lucifer’s tirade, but can’t help as she can feel Alastor trying hard to not buck into her hand. She smirks, to have that sort of control over the radio demon makes her quite hot, and she jerks just a bit faster.

 

Alastor, for his part in all of this, loves every bit of it . The sheer fact that Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell, is sitting in the very spot that his only daughter laid just the other night, bare, save for a pair of heels as he had his tongue all over her, enjoying every taste and sound as he devoured her. But now, that wicked daughter had his cock freely out under the table, jerking him off as he sat there listening to Lucifer going off about how “Hell” wasn’t what it once was or something along those lines. At some point, Charlie had taken just a small amount of pre cum and teased the head of his cock, swirling it and then gliding it back down. 

 

Alastor, usually so composed, did finally put his hand to his mouth, using it to hide a bit of his smile as it fades slightly, underneath the ministrations of Charlie’s adept hands. His other hand grips the table firmly, and he ponders if he should take her hand off of him, but when the feeling begins to build, and he has trouble starting to hold back another idea comes to mind, and he side glances Charlie, gliding his hand to stop hers just a moment.

 

“Darling! We haven’t offered your father any refreshments! Didn’t you make those tarts…”

 

Lucifer jumps up, “The apple tarts!? Oh Charlie, why didn’t you say anything!”

 

Alastor takes her hand, gripping it and squeezing his cock, as she takes a breath, “Yes, Dad. Why don’t we…uh…”

 

Alastor calls for Niffty, who comes in quickly, “Hi Boss! Ohh, it’s the biggest bad boy in all of Hell!”

 

“Niffty!” He growls, and she turns. Her eye drifts from him to her, and back to Alastor, “Take the king to go get those tarts Charlie made!”

 

Niffty nods and beckons him over. Lucifer follows, as she tells him about her apple pancakes, which he delights at.

 

Alastor turns, pushing against the table, and Charlie watches him, “Al…”

 

“Take care of it, my dear, before daddy comes back with his treats…”

 

Charlie nods, licking her lips until she gets to her knees. Her hands she places on his thighs, but then takes him in one of her hands and brings her lips down to his member. She takes him eagerly, swirling her tongue on his head and delighted in his groan.

 

She sets a rapid pace, her hair in his grip as she moves up and down his shaft. He throws his head back, whispering praises as she takes him deep into her throat. Her hums grow more intense, matching his urgency, and she feels his grip tighten, signaling his climax. When he releases, she takes most of him, but some spills onto her face, adding to the intensity of the moment. 

 

Niffty and Lucifer return, and Niffty immediately notices the white substance on her face. "What's that white stuff on your face?" she asks. Alastor and Charlie exchange a quick glance and hastily come up with an excuse, but Niffty just shrugs. "It'll be great material for my fanfic," she says, unfazed. Meanwhile, Lucifer continues to eat tart after tart, entirely oblivious to the conversation.

 

Lucifer finally looks up at them as Niffty leaves, “Char these are just as good as ever! Did the little sinner there help you perfect them? It has to be cinnamon in it right? They are to die for!”

 

Alastor’s smile is wide as Charlie's grin, “Yes! It’s the…umm…cinnamon!”

 

She licks her lips and wipes her finger, glancing back at Alastor, who smirks knowingly. "She does go all in on anything she does, doesn't she?" he remarks.

 

Lucifer, enjoying a mouthful of dessert nods in agreement "Yeah! Charlie's always had a knack for the best of tastes!”

 

Charlie's eyes widen as she feels Alastor's hand gently rest on the small of her back. "That she does," he adds with a sly smile.

 

Alastor exchanges a knowing glance with Lucifer before excusing himself. “If you’ll pardon me, there’s a… job I’ve been meaning to do,” he says, his voice smooth and composed.

 

Lucifer waves him off, still savoring his dessert. “Take your time, Alastor. Charlie and I will be right here. Right Char Char?”

 

Alastor makes his way to his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He retrieves the leather-bound journal from its secret location and settles into an armchair by the window. The daylight casts a yellow glow across the pages as he begins to read. The poem is intoxicating, each line dripping with passion and intensity, stirring something deep within him.

 

As he reads, his thoughts inevitably drift back to Charlie. Her smile, her laugh, the way she carries herself with a mixture of grace and determination-all of it lingers in his mind, making it difficult to focus on the words before him. The poem, once a refuge, now only serves to remind him of the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

 

Alastor closes the book with a decisive snap, his pulse quickening. The feelings he’s been trying to suppress are too strong to ignore. He can still feel the warmth of her skin beneath his hand, the spark in her eyes when she looks at him. It’s undeniable: he’s madly in love with Charlie, and the intensity of his longing is almost unbearable.

 

Determined to confront his emotions, Alastor leaves his room and heads back to the main hall. As he approaches, he can hear the faint sounds of conversation and laughter. Charlie’s laughter. It tugs at his heart, drawing him in like a magnet. He enters the room to find Charlie and Lucifer still engaged in lighthearted banter. Charlie looks up as he approaches, her eyes locking onto his. There’s a moment of silent understanding between them, a shared recognition of the unspoken desire that has been building.

 

Lucifer, still oblivious to the undercurrents between them, is focused on his dessert. Alastor takes his place beside Charlie, his hand once again finding the small of her back. This time, there’s no hiding the hunger in his eyes. He leans in close, his voice a low, seductive murmur. “Charlie, there’s something I need to tell you…”

 

Her breath catches, and she turns to face him fully, her eyes searching his. “What is it, Alastor?”

 

Alastor asked Charlie to come into his office to discuss some work-related issues. Charlie couldn't help but feel a little nervous as she excused herself from the table. Alastor instructed Niffty to keep him busy, promising fanfic material in return. The woman beamed up and began to talk about Lucifer's issues as king. 

 

Alastor couldn't resist any longer and decided to make his move as soon as they entered the office. He walked over to Charlie and gently placed his hand on her lower back, pulling her closer to him.

 

She felt a rush of excitement as Alastor pulled her closer. She couldn't resist and leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was intense and passionate, and Charlie could feel herself getting wet.

 

As he kissed Charlie, he felt himself harden by her. Lifting her effortlessly, he placed her on his desk. His lips trailed down Charlie's neck, inching closer towards her chest.

 

She felt a growing heat as Alastor kissed her neck and moved up to her breasts. Unable to resist, she began to unbutton the buttons at the top of her dress, revealing a lacy bra beneath.

 

Alastor got even harder still at the sight of her bra, and he began to kiss her breasts, gradually switching up to light bites and nibbles on and around her sensitive nipples. His gentle yet confident sucking caused her to moan in pleasure, perhaps a bit too loudly. 

 

He dragged her down and bent her over his desk, her perfect ass on full display. Charlie looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide and questioning. Alastor grinned, his teeth gleaming in the office lights, He pushed her skirt up around her waist, revealing black laced panties. Charlie gasped as he trailed his fingers down her spine, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

 

Alastor wasted no time, pulling Charlie's panties to the side and plunging his fingers into her wet pussy. Charlie moaned, throwing her head back as Alastor worked her clit with his thumb. She was soaking wet, her pussy eager for his cock. Alastor didn't disappoint, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his hard member.

 

In his blinded-by-desire state, Alastor didn't fully close the door to their shared office, making it very easy for a passing Vaggie to hear Charlie's light moans. At first startled, Vaggie decided to investigate, to take a little peek. The sight both made her gag in disgust and created unforeseen anger within her. 

 

Charlie was bent over the desk, her panties pooling at her feet as Alastor was thrusting inside her. Charlie moaned as Alastor entered her from behind, filling her up with his cock. She gripped the edge of the desk, her nails digging into the wood as he thrusts into her again and again. He thrust into her hard causing Charlie to cry out in pleasure. He fucked her roughly, his balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. Charlie could feel an orgasm building inside her, her pussy clenching around Alastor's dick.

 

Vaggie's eye widened in shock and anger. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She wanted to go inside the room, to let them know of her wraith… wraith… Lucifer! He's still in the hotel, Vaggie thought. Maybe she could tell him of this grant circus act they were performing. With a single glance at Charlie's pleasured face by another, she went on to search for Charlie's father.

 

Alastor and Charlie were lost in their world. They were both moaning and panting, their bodies slick with sweat. Alastor reached around and started playing with Charlie's clit, causing her to moan louder. "Oh, fuck, Alastor, I'm gonna cum,'' Charlie said, her voice breathless. Alastor picked up the pace, fucking her harder and faster. He could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, and he knew she was close. "Cum for me, Charlie. Cum all over my cock,' Alastor said, his voice low and commanding.

 

Charlie couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a loud moan as she came, her pussy pulsing around Alastor's cock. He couldn't hold back any longer either, and he came inside her with a loud grunt, “You feel that, Charlie? You take all of me so good.”

 

They both collapsed onto the desk, panting and trying to catch their breath. Alastor pulled out of her and turned her around, kissing her deeply. "That was amazing, Charlie," Alastor said, his voice filled with satisfaction. Charlie smiled, still trying to catch her breath. "Yeah, it was," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Charlie went to pick her panties from the floor, but Alastor quickly snatched them. 

 

“Now, now my dear. I believe you need no such item on you…” Although his voice was seductive, Charlie giggled at him, 

 

“I don't think they'd fit on you, Al… but I'd love to see you wear them…” Alastor was rarely, if at all, beaten at his own game. But Charlie proves to be a serious player, time and time again. He chuckled, saying he'd wear them for her if she was a good girl. They fixed each other and went out of the room. Alastor noticed some cum dripping down her leg, and he smirks, satisfied that he is the one that gets to fill her whenever he wants. 

 

As Lucifer continues to savor his dessert, Vaggie storms into the room, her eyes blazing with anger. "Lucifer, we need to talk," she demands, her voice trembling with fury. Lucifer looks up, slightly annoyed at the interruption. "What is it, Maggie? Can’t you see I’m enjoying my tarts?”

 

Vaggie’s face hardens. "It’s about Alastor. He's being a manipulative bastard, like always. I caught him with Charlie’s diary! He stole it, Lucifer. He’s using her!”

 

Lucifer's expression darkens, his hand pausing mid-air. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, his tone suddenly serious.

 

"Positive," Vaggie replies, her eyes never leaving his. "You need to do something before it’s too late. Lucifer sighs heavily, pushing his plate aside. "Very well. Let’s go find them.”

 

Together, they make their way through the winding corridors of the grand estate. As they approach Alastor’s office, they see the door open and Alastor and Charlie step out, their expressions a mix of tension and determination. Lucifer moves quickly, grabbing Charlie’s arm. "Charlie, we need to talk. Now," he says, his voice a mix of concern and authority.

 

Charlie looks startled, glancing at Alastor for support. "What’s going on, Dad?" she asks, trying to pull her arm free.

 

Lucifer tightens his grip slightly, guiding her away from Alastor. "It’s about your relationship with him. We need to have a serious discussion.”

 

Alastor sighs and leaves Charlie to her father. He whispers he will be in his room, and she looks at him with a sad expression.

 

As they move to a more private area, Lucifer turns to face Charlie, his eyes softening. "Charlie, I’m only looking out for you. You’re my daughter, and I care about your well-being." 

 

Charlie frowns, sensing the underlying tension. "What’s this really about, Dad?”

 

Lucifer sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You’re the heir to the throne, Charlie. You have responsibilities, and you can’t afford to be distracted by someone like Alastor. He’s dangerous, manipulative."

 

Charlie’s eyes widen in shock. "What are you talking about? Alastor isn’t like that. Not to me!”

 

Vaggie stormed up the stairs to Alastor's room, determined to find the diary. She knew it was the key to unraveling the tangled web of secrets that Alastor held over her. As she reached his door, she pushed it open without knocking, startling Alastor, who was lounging in a chair, reading a book.

 

"What are you doing here, Vagatha?" Alastor asked, his tone icy.

 

"I'm here for the diary, Alastor. Where is it?" she demanded, her eyes scanning the room.

 

Alastor's expression darkened. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, standing up and walking over to a nearby shelf. "But if you're looking for something to incriminate me, you won't find it here."

 

"Don't play dumb with me," Vaggie snapped. "I know we both have one. Where is it?"

 

Alastor chuckled a sinister sound that sent chills down Vaggie's spine. "Oh, you mean this?" he said, pulling out a small, neatly clean book from behind a stack of papers. "You shouldn't have come snooping around, Vaggie. It could get you into a lot of trouble."

 

"Give it to me," Vaggie demanded, stepping forward.

 

"Not so fast," Alastor said, holding the diary out of her reach. "You see, I have something else here that might interest you." He walked over to a wooden box and opened it, revealing a stack of neatly folded letters. "Your secret love messages. It would be a shame if these were to... accidentally find their way into the wrong hands."

 

Vaggie's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't dare."

 

"Try me," Alastor said with a smirk.

 

Meanwhile, downstairs, Charlie was having a heated argument with her father, Lucifer.

 

"Dad, I'm old enough to date whoever I want," she shouted, her hands clenched into fists. "You can't control my life!"

 

Lucifer's eyes blazed with anger. "You don't understand, Charlie. Alastor is dangerous. He's not someone you can trust."

 

"I don't care!" Charlie retorted. "I can make my own decisions." Lucifer looks her over, and Charlie, with determination, tells him that he has overstayed his welcome. With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, heading straight for Alastor's quarters.

 

Back in Alastor's room, Vaggie was growing desperate. "Give me the diary, Alastor. Now."

 

Alastor's grin widened. "Or what?"

 

Just then, the door burst open, and Charlie rushed in, her face flushed with anger. "What's going on here?"

 

Alastor and Vaggie both turned to look at her, surprise and shock written on their faces.

 

"Charlie, stay out of this," Vaggie said, her voice tense.

 

But Charlie's eyes were fixed on the diary in Alastor's hand. "What's that?"

 

Before Alastor could react, Vaggie lunged forward and snatched the diary from his grasp. She ran to the fireplace and, without hesitation, threw the diary into the flames. The pages caught fire instantly, the flames consuming the book in seconds.

 

"No!" Alastor shouted, moving to retrieve it, but it was too late. The diary was gone, reduced to ashes.

 

Charlie stood there, stunned. "Vaggie, what have you done?"

 

Vaggie turned to face them both, her expression defiant. "I did what I had to do."

 

Alastor's eyes burned with rage as he looked at Vaggie. "You'll pay for this, Vaggie. Mark my words."

 

Vaggie flinched, but remained strong, "I'm not afraid of you, Alastor."

 

“You should be.” 

 

Charlie looked between them, her mind racing. The diary was gone, but the secrets it held were still out there, and now, more than ever, she needed to know what was going on.

 

Charlie stared at the smoldering remains of the diary in the fireplace, her shock quickly turning to unbridled fury. Her eyes glowed with an intense, fiery light as she turned to Vaggie, her voice trembling with rage. "Was that my journal?" she demanded, her voice echoing with a demonic undertone.

 

Vaggie took a step back, startled by Charlie's sudden shift. "Charlie, you need to understand-"

 

"Understand?" Charlie cut her off, her voice rising. "You burned my diary! Do you have any idea what that meant to me?"

 

Vaggie tried to explain, desperation in her voice. "Charlie, Alastor has been the one writing the poems in your journal. He's been manipulating you!"

 

Charlie's eyes blazed even brighter, her anger transforming her features into a demonic visage. "I know Alastor is the one writing them! He's not manipulating me; we write those… love poems because he loves me!"

 

Alastor moved to intervene, but Charlie's fierce glare stopped him in his tracks. "Keep quiet, Alastor!" she hissed, her voice laced with venom.

 

Alastor closed his mouth, stepping back and watching in silence.

 

Vaggie, still trying to reason with Charlie, pressed on. "Charlie, you're not seeing the whole picture. Alastor isn't who you think he is. He's dangerous, and he's using those poems to get close to you, to control you."

 

Charlie's fury only grew. Flames began to lick at her fingertips, and her wings unfurled, casting a menacing shadow across the room. "No, Vaggie. You're wrong! Alastor loves me, and I love him. You had no right to destroy my diary!"

 

Vaggie, sensing the danger, took another step back. "Charlie, please. Just listen to me. Alastor has a history of manipulating people, torturing them, of using them for his gain. You can't trust him."

 

Charlie snarled, her demonic form fully manifesting. "I said, enough! I make my own decisions, and I trust Alastor with my life. How dare you destroy something so precious to me?"

 

Vaggie, her voice shaking, tried one last time. "Charlie, I'm only trying to protect you."

 

Charlie's tail whipped at the ground, and the temperature in the room spiked as her anger reached its peak. "Get out, Vaggie. Now. Before I do something we'll both regret."

 

Vaggie turned to leave but Alastor stopped her at the door. “Forgot something?” he asked, as he began to speak, the contents of secrets that spilled made Vaggie stop dead in her tracks, “In the inconspicuous letters in that box, it would seem you and your mystery person had quite a night the day that Charlie had asked you to stay when she was trying to stage that dance to gather patrons. I believe, and I quote, “Does she know about the night? How you came over and we stayed in bed while she tried to keep giving in to her “redemption” ordeal? The way you gave all of yourself to me while she fought with the outsiders to join her little project?”

 

Charlie looks to Alastor with shock, as Vaggie turns, “Alastor…”

 

Alastor laughs, “Or what about the other one, the one where she paints a quite wild night with you while Charlie was here trying to help Angel Dust after an ordeal with Valentino.”

 

Charlie turns, “Are you serious!? I thought you were handling things with Valentino. Or trying to?”

 

Vaggie stammers, “I…I was! I did! Just after I…”

 

Charlie can’t believe what she is hearing, “Alastor, where is the box?”

 

Alastor turns, and with a snap of his fingers presents them to Charlie. Vaggie reaches out but hesitates as Charlie starts grabbing letters at random and reading them. Alastor watches with intrigue, but as Charlie’s face falls, he realizes that this is not how he wanted her to hear any of this. 

Vaggie whispers to Charlie, “I…Charlie…”

 

Charlie yells, “You know, I should throw these all in the fire too! But…But I can’t!” She takes several more, reading through the letters as her heartaches.

Vaggie tries to say something, “I…Charlie. I wanted to tell you.”

 

Charlie shakes her head. After a few more, she closes the box and shoves it back into Vaggie’s arms. Vaggie stumbles out into the hall, “Charlie! I…I was going to tell you. But, then you got with him!”

 

Alastor huffs, “You had every opportunity to tell her. She tried to talk to you the night you officially let her go. The first time her father had come regarding approving the garden. You had chances.”

 

Charlie is the one who intervenes, grabbing Alastor’s shoulder, “Enough.”

 

Alastor turns annoyed but one look at Charlie says everything. Charlie’s heartache and both Vaggie and himself have done along with the lies. Alastor turns away from Vaggie and reaches out to Charlie, “Darling…”

 

Vaggie looks at the two of them, “We all have secrets.”

 

She leaves and Alastor sneers at Vaggie, but then watches as Charlie looks at him with sadness and retreats out the door as well.

 

As Charlie walked down the hallway, still fuming and overwhelmed by the events that had just transpired, Alastor quickly caught up with her. Gently but firmly, he took her hand, his touch both comforting and steady.

 

"Charlie," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Please, let me help you calm down."

 

Charlie glanced at him, her anger still simmering but less intense. She nodded reluctantly, allowing him to lead her back to his room. Alastor picked her up effortlessly, carrying her with a care that belied his usual sinister demeanor. He pushed open the door to his room and stepped inside, closing it softly behind them.

 

He carried her over to the bed and gently laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. Sitting beside her, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Charlie, I'm truly sorry for everything that's happened," he said, his voice sincere. "I never wanted things to escalate like this."

 

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes still reflecting the turmoil she felt. "Alastor, my diary... it meant so much to me."

 

"I know," he replied, his voice softening even more. "I know how much those words meant to you. And I'm sorry that Vaggie destroyed it. If there's anything I can do to make it right, please tell me."

 

She sighed deeply, the tension slowly leaving her body as she looked into his eyes. "It's not your fault, Alastor. I just... I felt so violated, so hurt."

 

Alastor leaned closer, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "I understand. And I promise you, Charlie, I will do everything in my power to protect you and make sure nothing like this happens again."

 

Charlie's eyes softened as she looked up at him, seeing the genuine care and love in his expression. She reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "Thank you, Alastor. I know you will."

 

In a tender moment, she leaned in and kissed him softly. Alastor responded with equal tenderness, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace. When they finally pulled back, Charlie rested her forehead against his. "It's okay," she whispered. "Everything will be okay."

 

Alastor held her close, his own heart swelling with a mixture of relief and affection. "Yes, Charlie. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through this together. You and me."

 

For a while, they stayed like that, holding each other and finding solace in their shared warmth. The turmoil of the past hour began to fade, replaced by a calm certainty that, together, they could face anything.

 

Alastor gently stroked Charlie's hair, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Charlie," he said softly, "I have a surprise for you."

 

Curiosity sparked in her eyes as she looked up at him. "A surprise?"

 

He nodded, standing up and extending a hand to help her to her feet. "Come with me."

 

Intrigued, Charlie took his hand and allowed him to lead her down the hallway to her room. When they reached the door, Alastor paused, his smile widening. "Close your eyes," he instructed gently.

 

Charlie obeyed, her excitement building. She felt the door open and Alastor's hand guiding her inside. "Alright, you can open them now," he said.

 

Charlie opened her eyes and gasped. There, on her desk, was her diary, looking completely untouched by flames. She rushed over, picking it up with reverent hands. "Alastor, how...?"

 

He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I didn't steal your diary, Charlie. I had one of my own that was connected with yours. They mirrored each other. Whatever you wrote in yours appeared in mine, and vice versa."

 

Charlie's eyes widened with delight. "Really? That's amazing!"

 

Alastor nodded, a tender smile on his face. "I wanted to make sure you always had my thoughts and feelings with you, even when we were apart."

 

Overwhelmed with happiness, Charlie turned and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Alastor. Did you plan this from the start?"

 

He smirks, “I wasn’t expecting poems. Feelings, thoughts, plans? Yes.”

 

She pushes his shoulder as she comes back to nuzzling his chest, “Well, I’m glad the poems began. It got a lot of feelings out in the open.”

 

He chuckled softly, returning her embrace. "I'm glad you like it. Now, how about we write something together?"

 

Her face lit up with excitement. "Yes, I'd love that!"

 

Alastor led her over to the bed and sat down, guiding her to sit on his lap. She settled comfortably, feeling the warmth of his presence around her. He handed her a red pen, keeping a pink one for himself.

 

"Let's write a poem together," he suggested, his voice soft and intimate. "You with my red pen, and me with your pink. Our words will blend, just like our hearts."

 

Charlie nodded, her eyes shining with happiness. "That sounds perfect."

 

They opened the diary to a fresh page and began to write, their hands moving in harmony. Alastor started, his pen gliding smoothly across the paper.

 

In shadows deep where sorrows tread,

My heart was wrapped in threads of dread.

The world seemed cold, the night so long,

I lost my way, forgot my song.

 

But then she came, a light so bright,

Her love transformed my darkest night.

With tender words and gentle touch,

She healed my soul, it meant so much.

 

His smile, a beacon, warm and true,

Hid laughter, like the morning dew.

In his embrace, I found my peace,

His love brought forth a sweet release.

 

She saw the pain I tried to hide,

And stood unwavering by my side.

Her strength, a fortress in the storm,

Her kindness, tender, soft, and warm.

 

Through every trial, he held my hand,

And helped me find the strength to stand.

His love, a constant, guiding star,

Showed me the Princess I truly are.

 

No longer lost, no longer scared,

For in her heart, my soul is bared.

She saved me with her boundless grace,

In her, my home, my sacred place.

 

So now I walk with hope anew,

For I was saved because he knew,

That love can heal, and love can mend,

And through his love, my heart will send.

 

A message clear, a truth profound,

In love's embrace, I am unbound.

With every dawn, a brighter hue,

The world reborn, and dreams renew.

 

Her eyes, a mirror to my soul,

Reflect the love that makes me whole.

In her I found a sacred part,

A piece that mends my fractured heart.

 

She smiles, and proceeds:

 

His whispered vows, a melody,

That sings of hope and sets me free.

Through darkest days and longest nights,

His love, a fire that ignites.

 

In every touch, a promise kept,

A solace found, where once I wept.

Her love, a river, deep and wide,

That carries me on gentle tides.

 

Together now, we face the skies,

With love that never fades or dies.

Her courage teaches me to be,

The person she believed in me.

 

They paused, their eyes meeting, and in that moment, they felt an unbreakable connection. Their pens moved in unison for the final lines:

 

So here I stand, forever changed,

By love's pure light, no longer estranged.

He saved me with his tender grace,

In him, my heart has found its place.

 

And as we journey, hand in hand,

Through life's vast sea, upon its sand,

Her love remains my guiding light,

My constant day, my endless night.

 

For in his love, I am reborn,

A spirit freed, no longer torn.

 

Her love, a gift that set me free,

She saved my soul, and now I'm me.

 

Charlie turned slightly, looking up at Alastor with love and gratitude. "This is beautiful," she whispered.

 

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It is, Charlie. Just like us."

 

They stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the newly written poem a testament to their eternal bond. Despite the challenges and turmoil, they knew their love would guide them through, stronger than ever.

 

Alastor and Charlie stayed close, the warmth of their connection filling the room. Charlie looked down at their poem, a smile playing on her lips. "This really is beautiful, Alastor. It feels like we're writing our story together."

Alastor gently squeezed her hand, his eyes soft with affection. "That's exactly what we've been doing, my dear. Our story, written in ink and love.”

 

Charlie shifted slightly on his lap, turning to face him more directly. She traced a finger along his jawline, her touch tender. "I'm so glad I have you, Alastor. Even when things get difficult, you make everything feel right.” He leaned into her touch, his hand resting on her waist. "And I'm endlessly grateful to have you, Charlie. You've brought light into my life in a way I never thought possible." 

 

She giggled softly, her eyes sparkling with joy. "You have a way with words, you know that?” Alastor grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. "I suppose it's one of my many charms.” Charlie laughed, a sound that made Alastor's heart swell with happiness. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "One of many, indeed.” 

 

They stayed like that, exchanging kisses and soft whispers, basking in the warmth of their shared affection. Alastor's fingers gently brushed through her hair, while Charlie's hands traced delicate patterns on his chest. Every touch, every glance, spoke of the deep bond they shared.

 

"Remember when we first met?" Charlie asked, her voice filled with nostalgia. Alastor chuckled. "How could I forget? You were so determined to change Hell, and I was intrigued by your unwavering optimism."

 

She smiled, her eyes softening. "And you were this mysterious, powerful figure who seemed so untouchable. But you saw something in me that no one else did.” 

 

Alastor's expression turned serious, his gaze locking onto hers. "I saw the heart of someone who truly cares, who believes in the goodness of others. You inspired me, Charlie." Charlie blushed slightly, her heart swelling with affection. "And you inspired me to be brave, to believe that change is possible.”

 

They shared another tender kiss, the world around them fading away. For a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in each other's warmth and love.

Notes:

There is more that will be happening on this wild ride! We hope you enjoy it and leave us a comment! We love them!

Chapter 8: Mine

Summary:

Charlie can't get enough of Alastor, who spells out his possessions on her thighs. A lunch date may head to a collision.

Notes:

Woo! Another chapter! In celebration of NIghtmare finally using his voice, lol! Enjoy!

Charlie deepened the kiss, her hands tangling in Alastor's hair as she moved to wrap herself around him. The intensity of their embrace grew, and they stumbled back onto the bed, Alastor lying beneath her. Charlie straddled him, her lips trailing from his mouth to his neck, each kiss filled with passion and tenderness.

 

Alastor's hands moved to her waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he savored each sensation. "Charlie,"' he murmured, his voice husky with emotion, "you are… incredible.”

 

Charlie's breath hitched at his words, her heart racing as she felt the sincerity in his tone. "Alastor, I-" she began but words failed her, replaced by the raw connection between them.

 

Their surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the moment. Alastor's hands roamed up her back, drawing her closer, as Charlie continued to explore his neck with her lips. The world outside their intimate cocoon ceased to exist, their worries and fears melting away in the heat of their embrace.

 

For a long while, they remained entwined, the intensity of their shared passion creating a bubble of warmth and love around them. Eventually, they pulled back slightly, their breaths mingling as they gazed into each other's eyes, their bond stronger than ever.

 

Charlie smiled softly, her fingers gently caressing Alastor's cheek. "No matter what happens, we'll face it together," she whispered, her voice filled with determination and love. Alastor nodded, his eyes reflecting the same resolve. "Together," he echoed, sealing his promise with another tender kiss.

 

Alastor, feeling the depth of their connection, gently rolled Charlie onto her back, his eyes never leaving hers. The love and care in his gaze made her heart flutter. He moved slowly, wanting to savor every moment and ensure she felt cherished.

 

With a tender touch, he began to remove her top, his fingers grazing her skin and sending shivers down her spine. Once her top was off, he took a moment to admire her, his expression of awe and adoration. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

 

Charlie blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her at his words. Alastor's touch was soft as he traced his lips and tongue along her collarbone, planting delicate kisses that made her sigh with pleasure. His journey continued downward, each kiss and lick a testament to his love and devotion.

 

When he reached her breasts, he paused, looking up at her to ensure she was comfortable. Seeing her nod, he continued, his kisses becoming more passionate. He gently teased her with his tongue, eliciting soft moans that only spurred him on. Alastor's hands cradled her, his touch both reassuring and exhilarating.

 

Charlie felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of love, desire, and profound trust. Alastor was giving her all the tender love and care she needed, making her feel like the center of his world. Each caress, each kiss, was a promise that he would always be there for her, ready to face any challenge together.

 

As their passionate moments began to ease, Alastor gently gathered Charlie into his arms, and they helped each other to dress in their pajamas. His embrace is tender and protective as they nestled close, the intensity of their earlier intimacy giving way to a serene, loving warmth. Alastor softly kissed her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, "I love you, Charlie.”

 

Charlie snuggled closer, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I love you too, Alastor,” she replied, her voice a gentle murmur filled with contentment. They shared soft lingering kisses, each one a sweet affirmation of their bond. Alastor's fingers traced gentle patterns along her back, his touch light and soothing. Charlie sighed happily, feeling completely safe and cherished in his arms. 

 

Alastor nuzzled her hair, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings. "You are my everything," he said, his voice tender. "Every moment with you feels like a gift.” Charlie smiled, her heart swelling with love. She pressed a soft kiss to his chest, her fingers gently caressing his skin, "You've given me so much hope," she whispered back, her eyes shining with gratitude. "With you, I feel like I can do anything.”

 

They continued to cuddle, their bodies entwined in a cocoon of warmth and affection. Alastor's hands moved to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing softly over her cheeks as he kissed her lips with the utmost gentleness. Charlie responded in kind, her kisses light and loving, each one a silent promise of her devotion. 

 

For a long time, they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, exchanging sweet kisses and soft caresses. The world outside their haven seemed distant and unimportant, overshadowed by the depth of their love. Every touch, every nuzzle, every whispered word only strengthened their connection, filling them with a profound sense of peace and happiness.

 

Eventually, Alastor gently broke the silence. "I have something I need to attend to, love" he murmured, his voice tinged with reluctance.

 

Charlie pouted playfully, tightening her embrace. "Do you really have to go?"

 

He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Just for a little while, my dear. I'll be back before you know it."

 

She sighed but didn't let go. "Fine, but I'm coming with you to the door."

 

Hand in hand, they made their way to the hallway. As they shared one last tender kiss before parting, Husk rounded the corner. His eyes widened in shock, his mouth dropping open.

 

"Why are you two fuckin’ kissing in the hallway?" Husk blurted out, his voice filled with bewilderment.

 

Charlie giggled, pressing closer to Alastor. "Because it's romantic?"

 

Alastor smirked. "And we enjoy the spontaneity, Husk."

 

Husk raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the answer. "Since when do you two even go around in public? Let alone kiss?"

 

Charlie shrugged. "Since now, I guess."

 

Husk sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, but seriously, what's going on here? And why are you still in your pajamas? What the hell is wrong with you people?"

 

Alastor chuckled. "Comfort is key, Husk. We believe in being cozy."

 

Charlie nodded enthusiastically. "Plus, it adds to the charm, don't you think?"

 

Husk groaned, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, well, the hallway isn't exactly the place for that kind of charm. What if someone else walked by?"

 

Charlie grinned mischievously. "Then they'd get a free show."

 

Husk's eyes narrowed. "So, is this like a new thing? Hallway make-outs in pajamas? Should we expect this every morning?"

 

Alastor feigned serious contemplation. "Hmm, perhaps we'll make it a weekly event. Fridays sound good to you, darling?”

 

Charlie laughed. "Absolutely, but maybe we should start a sign-up sheet for hallway PDA slots. Don't want to hog all the fun.”

 

Husk rolled his eyes. "Great. That's exactly what we need around here. Pajama-clad lovebirds making out in the goddamn hallways."

 

"Would you prefer we wore something more formal?" Alastor teased, his tone mock-serious. "I could fetch my tuxedo."

 

"Please fucking don't," Husk retorted. "Just... why can't you guys do this in a room like normal people?"

 

Charlie leaned in closer to Alastor, whispering loudly enough for Husk to hear. "But where's the fun in that?"

 

Husk threw his hands up in defeat. "You know what, never fucking mind. I get it. I didn't need to fucking see that."

 

As he turned on his heel and walked away, muttering to himself, Charlie and Alastor exchanged amused glances, unable to stifle their laughter. 

 

Charlie tugged him back towards her room. "Come on, whatever you need to do, you can do later."

 

Alastor chuckled, allowing himself to be led back. "Very well, my dear. Lead the way.”

 

When the night was once again theirs, they finally settled into a comfortable silence, their bodies entwined. Alastor pressed one last tender kiss to Charlie's forehead, his arms securely around her. "Goodnight, my love," he whispered. 

 

"Goodnight, Alastor," Charlie replied, her voice a soft murmur as she drifted into a contented sleep, knowing that with Alastor by her side, their future was bright and filled with endless possibilities.

 

Alastor waited until Charlie's breathing became slow and steady, a sign that she was deeply asleep. Silently, he slipped out of bed and made his way to his room, the floorboards making no sound even under his weight.

 

In his room, hidden beneath a loose floorboard, were Vaggie's letters to her secret lover. Alastor retrieved them and sat by the dim light of a single candle, his eyes scanning the words. “Amateurs…” As he read more, he had come to… almost recognize the letters of the other. They were modern, using popular slang he wished to never see. Much less hear… hear… he had heard them before… but from where? 

 

Charlie stirred, reaching out for Alastor in her sleep. Not finding him beside her, she slowly awoke, a sense of emptiness and curiosity washing over her. She sat up, her thoughts wandering to Alastor, his touch, his presence. The memory of his closeness stirred something deep within her, and a flush of desire warmed her cheeks.

 

Restlessness consumed Charlie as she felt the burning ache between her legs, thoughts of him driving her to the brink of madness.

 

Contemplating whether he was still awake, she rose from her bed with a lazy grace, shedding her pajamas for a towel and slipping into panties, maintaining a semblance of decency. 

 

"This might come in handy later." She mused.

 

Meanwhile, Alastor sifted through Vaggie's letters, detecting a recurring theme. She lamented about Charlie or himself, then waxed poetic about her unwavering protection of Charlie, her sole mission.

 

Chuckling at what he deemed were naive beliefs, Alastor was about to retire for the night when a knock interrupted his thoughts.

 

Opening the door, he was met with a questioning expression as Charlie, topless, barged in, guiding him to a chair. With a provocative flourish, she discarded her damp panties, teasingly presenting them to him.

 

"Why not compose a poem for me? It's rather impolite to keep a lady waiting, don't you think?" she purred.

 

Before he could respond, she straddled him, tantalizingly gyrating her hips against his, the fabric of his pants igniting her desires. As he attempted to touch her, firm hands restrained his.

 

Charlie had a determination he couldn’t grasp but also wanted more of it, “Tsk tsk, not yet, my dear . No touching. I will have my way with you while you conjure up that delightful poem. Understood?"

 

Alastor groans as she gyrates her hips once more, his mind racing with the possibilities of his beautiful Princess of Hell grinding against him in his lap. He reaches around her, his desk in front of him as he grabs his red pen and paper from his desk, and begins to scribble a poem, again, just for her:

 

In the realm where shadows dance with light, 

Where day surrenders to the velvet night, 

There blooms a rose, a beauty rare, 

Whose essence fills the midnight air.

 

Her eyes, twin orbs of endless grace, 

Reflect the moon's soft, silver embrace. 

With each breath, she whispers secrets untold, 

In her presence, all mysteries unfold.

 

Her laughter, like a melody divine, 

Echoes through the corridors of time. 

A siren's song, a symphony of desire, 

Igniting flames that are ever higher.

 

Oh, Charlie fair, enchantress of my soul, 

In your embrace, I find my whole. 

With every touch, you set me free, 

To roam the realms of ecstasy.

 

So let me pen these words, my dear, 

In homage to the one I hold so near. 

For in your presence, 

I find my truth, 

In your love, I find my youth .

 

With each seductive move, Charlie's teasing became an irresistible force, rendering Alastor powerless against her advances. Despite his attempts to resist, her persistence and allure gradually wore down his resolve.

 

She dry-humped him with a playful grin, his breath hitched, and his mind clouded with a mixture of desire and frustration. Her teasing whispers and the tantalizing sight of her panties held him captive, his attempts to maintain control slipping through his fingers like sand.

 

Struggling to focus on the task she had given him, Alastor found himself increasingly at the mercy of Charlie's advances. Her laughter echoed in the room, mingling with his labored breaths as she toyed with him, pushing him closer to the edge with each passing moment.

 

Despite his efforts to resist, her touch ignited a primal hunger within him, her every movement driving him over the edge, and as she continued to tease and taunt him with effortless grace, he knew that resistance was futile in the face of her irresistible charm.

 

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Charlie retrieved the poem Alastor had just penned, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she read his words aloud. Each line seemed to fan the flames of desire burning between them, igniting a hunger that she could no longer contain.

 

As she reached the end of the poem, she looked up at Alastor with a playful smirk, before swiftly snatching the red pen he had in his hand. "This is lovely, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. "But I think I have another inspiration in mind." 

 

As she finished speaking, she stood up gracefully, her movements deliberate and slow. Turning so her back faced Alastor, she allowed her soft skin to brush against him. With a subtle arch of her back she gave him the perfect opportunity to reach forward and start unbuttoning his pants, the anticipation between them crackling like static electricity. She didn't need to look back to know he was watching her every move, his breath catching as his fingers fumbled with the buttons.

 

He’s released before she can sit back, and she has to admit, she wouldn’t mind having him seated in her. He’ll just have to be good about it. She whispers for him to not move, as she adjusts to have his cock at her entrance, slipping in and they both moan eagerly.

 

Alastor should know that his Princess prides herself when she has a task set before him and leans slightly to grab her to rock against him, but she shifts, “No. I’m writing a poem. Be patient, Al.”

 

His groan is frustration mixed with want.

 

Without waiting for a response, she began to write, her movements swift and purposeful as she crafted another poem, each word a testament to the passion that simmered between them. As she wrote, she could feel him twitch within her, but she refused to do anything else but write her little poem.

 

Alastor's head spun with a heady mix of desire and anticipation, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating presence of the woman before him. He wanted nothing more than to push her onto his desk and fuck her against it, but he did love that determination of hers.

 

Feeling the need to assert his desire, Alastor reached for another pen nearby, a dark red. With swift movements, he traced a series of "Mine" along Charlie's thigh, each letter etched with purposeful intent. If someone had told him months ago that he’d have Charlie warming his cock while she was writing poems to him, he’d have thought they were more insane than himself.

 

Lost in the heat of the moment, Charlie remained oblivious to the markings on her skin as she continued to write with fervor. Her focus solely on the poetry she was crafting, she reveled in the sensations coursing through her body. The power she held in the moment. His cock twitching in her with almost every stroke of her pen nearly sends her over.

 

Meanwhile, Alastor watched with a mixture of amusement and desire as his words adorned her skin, a silent declaration of his claim. Each stroke of the pen served as a reminder of the passion that burned between them, fueling the intensity of their connection. He also silently wished they would become permanent, but at the very least, they’d last, what with the permanent pen.

 

As Charlie completed her poem, she looked up at Alastor with a satisfied smile, unaware of the words that adorned her thigh. With a sense of satisfaction, she dropped the pen with a thud, her attention already drifting to the next moment of pleasure they would share. She leaned back, arching her back just slightly; his groan at the movement made her giggle and hold up the poem. He leans forward, subtly kissing her collarbone as he begins to read it, enjoying having his complete attention, all for her:

 

Let me be the one,

That you can show yourself too.

Let me be the one,

That knows the real you.

Let me be the mind you explore,

Instead of tearing down.

Let me be the body you crave,

Instead of letting it go.

Let me be the one you can speak to,

Your sensual words for me to hear.

Let me be the one you kiss,

My lips upon yours in sweet caress.

Let me be the one you fill,

Taking it all and fulfilling every whim.

Let me be the one you call yours,

Just like you are all mine.

 

As soon as it ends, she gets up, his groan of her absence replaced swiftly as she twists her body, yet again facing him. This time, he felt her legs more as they brushed against his cock, her softness making him giggle. With a playful glint in her eyes, Charlie leaned in close to Alastor, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "You're such a good boy, Alastor."

 

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, a mixture of excitement and anticipation coursing through him. As she kissed him deeply, he melted into her embrace, his hands instinctively finding their way to her naked curves.

 

With a sigh of contentment, Charlie pressed herself against him, her body fitting perfectly against his as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment. Her skin felt like silk beneath his touch, every curve and contour a testament to her beauty.

 

As their kisses deepened, Alastor felt a sense of euphoria wash over him, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection. With each touch, each caress, they surrendered themselves to the passion that burned between them their desires merging into one.

 

With a gasp, Alastor felt the exquisite pleasure of her wetness enveloping him, his cock buried deep within her dripping pussy. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy crashing over them, their moans mingling in the air as they moved in perfect harmony.

 

Lost in the throes of passion, they abandoned themselves to the rhythm of their desires, each movement driving them closer to the edge of oblivion. With every touch, every kiss, they surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of their union, their bodies becoming one in the heat of the moment.

 

Their union became a symphony of raw desire, each thrust pushing them to new heights of ecstasy. Charlie's nails dug into Alastor's back as she rode him with reckless abandon, her moans of pleasure mingling with his own.

 

Their bodies moved in perfect sync, a primal dance of lust and longing that echoed through the room. With each plunge, Alastor felt himself losing control, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being inside her.

 

Charlie's breath came in ragged gasps as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her veins. Her hips moved with a frantic urgency, driving him deeper and deeper inside her until they were both on the brink of release.

 

And then, with a final, desperate cry, they both succumbed to the ecstasy that consumed them, their bodies shuddering in unison as they reached the pinnacle of their passion.

 

As they lay tangled together in the aftermath, their hearts still racing, they knew that this moment would be etched in their memories forever. In each other's arms, they had found a love that transcended time and space, a love that would burn brightly for eternity.

 

Alastor cuddled her close, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they caught their breath. After a moment, he gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms. With careful steps, he carried Charlie to their room. Once there, he gently laid her on the bed and then laid down beside her. They nestled together, holding each other tenderly, finding comfort in each other's embrace.

 

As they lay together, the warmth of their bodies mingling, Alastor stroked her hair gently, his touch soothing and tender. She nuzzled closer into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of their breathing and the occasional murmur of sweet nothings. 

 

Alastor's voice broke the silence, a low, comforting whisper. "You're safe with me," he said quietly, his lips brushing against her forehead.

 

She smiled, her eyes heavy with contentment and exhaustion. "I know," she replied softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.

 

As the night wore on, they drifted into a peaceful slumber, still wrapped in each other's arms, the worries of the world outside forgotten for a while. At that moment, nothing else mattered but the solace they found in each other.

 

The night deepened, the world outside growing quieter as they slept. At some point, Alastor awoke briefly, tightening his hold around her protectively. He watched her sleep, her face serene and beautiful in the moonlight filtering through the window.

 

With a soft sigh, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. His thoughts wandered to how much she had come to mean to him, a feeling that both terrified and exhilarated him.

 

As the first light of dawn began to peek over the horizon, Alastor felt a warmth spread through him, a contentment he hadn't known he was capable of. He closed his eyes again, surrendering to the embrace of sleep, knowing that with her beside him, the future seemed just a bit brighter.

Morning came slowly, the gentle rays of the sun casting a golden glow over them. She stirred first, blinking awake to find Alastor still holding her, his expression soft and unguarded in sleep. She couldn't help but smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

 

She brushed a soft kiss against his lips, causing him to wake. He smiled back at her, his eyes filled with a warmth that melted her heart.

 

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

 

"Good morning," she replied, her voice just above a whisper. 

 

They lay there for a while, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence, knowing that whatever the day might bring, they would face it together. 

---

 

Vaggie, however, wakes up in a persistent funk. This has been her routine for weeks now, exacerbated by the antics of her ex-girlfriend and the hotelier, who seem intent on stirring up trouble within the hotel. After getting ready, Vaggie steps out, eager to tackle her day's errands.

 

And a lunch date.

 

Turning a corner, she collides with Husk, who sighs, "Seems like everyone's in a foul mood today, huh?”

 

Vaggie eyes Husk with a perplexed expression. "What do you mean?"

 

Husk sighs deeply. "Let's just say after what I witnessed yesterday, I won't be sleeping for days."

 

Vaggie bites her cheek, studying him intently. "What exactly are you talking about?"

 

Husk meets her gaze cautiously. "You... know about the princess and her new... relationship, right?"

 

Vaggie nods knowingly, her disdain evident. She glances down the hall and then back at Husk. "Yes.”

 

"Great," Husk mutters, walking away from her. "Then you'd understand why I won't be able to sleep for a fucking week, seeing Alastor, the Radio Demon with his tongue halfway down Lucifer's daughter's throat."

 

Vaggie huffs in frustration. This situation is spiraling out of control. Charlie never engaged in displays like that before. What was Alastor up to with her? There's no way he could genuinely care for Charlie. He's a heartless demon who doesn't love anyone.

 

Deciding she needs to talk to a friend, Vaggie hopes she can meet without being interrupted by anyone else beforehand.

 

Security and supplies are her specialties at the hotel. As Vaggie wanders the streets of Pentagram, she stops to place an order before arriving at Vees Towers. Following the directions she's been given, she navigates carefully until she finds the door she's looking for. Inside, she steps into a neatly organized room filled with mannequins adorned with fashionable outfits. Closing the door behind her, she notices the person she came to see engrossed in a phone call.

 

"Oh really, you idiot? Do you think you can do whatever the fuck you want and expect me to handle all the side work? If you dump me into that same hellhole for my upcoming show, you'll be nothing but minced meat for Cannibal Town!" She taps a button on her phone forcefully and presses her hand to her temple.

 

Velvette barely acknowledges Vaggie until she steps closer.

 

"There you are! I was wondering when you'd show up."

 

"Sorry. It's... it's been hectic at the hotel."

 

Vaggie observes as Velvette sighs, slipping her phone into her shirt, likely tucking it into her bra. Vaggie blushes at the thought but quickly looks away. Velvette smirks, "Really? Does that excite you?"

 

Vaggie shakes her head. "No, it's just... it's been a rough week.”

 

Velvette crosses her arms. "Uh-huh? I'm surprised you haven't sent a letter."

 

Vaggie looks down briefly, then meets Velvette's gaze with frustration. “¡Este maldito demonio me cogió las letras! Charlie vio la mayoría…”

 

Velvette raises her hands defensively. "So what? What's the big deal, Vaggie? Aren't we supposed to be seeing each other?"

 

Vaggie sighs heavily but maintains eye contact. "Listen, I told you... Charlie—"

 

Her companion dismissively waves her hand. "I know, you still want to protect her, blah blah. So what? You swept her away. You knew what you were getting into, sweetheart." Velvette strides closer. "And I know what you want .”

 

Vaggie smiles as Velvette kisses her cheek. She grins, "Why don't you and I get out of here? I'd rather not have the others seeing us and making a fuss. It's nice to have something just for myself, for once.”

 

Charlie and Alastor begin their day by meeting with the crew. Alastor's eyes track her every movement, never letting her out of his sight for long throughout the morning. However, he notices the absence of a particular member, which irritates him despite his attempts to focus. Thoughts of the letters with snippets from Overlord meetings continue to nag at him, raising suspicions about what she might be up to.

 

Charlie notices his unusual expression. His smile seems strained, and he appears preoccupied. She gently places her hand on his and asks, "Is everything okay, Al?”

 

Alastor's smile softens as he looks at her. "Of course, my dear! However, I think you and I should... take a break?"

 

Charlie smiles back but sighs gently. "Alastor, I do need to get some things done today."

 

Alastor chuckles at her blush and playfully insists, "No, my dear. How about we have a lunch date today? I know a wonderful place nearby.” His smile is wide and inviting.

 

Charlie looks at him, surprised. "You want to go out? With me?!"

 

Alastor smirks at her reaction. Despite her obvious affection for him, he knows she understands his aversion to public displays of affection. Yet, he also recognizes that Charlie belongs to him, and he intends to assert his claim. He guides her gently towards the window.

 

"It's just a simple lunch," he reassures her. "Nothing overly glamorous. Just a casual break in the middle of the day. You deserve it after all your hard work around here.”

 

Charlie smiled up at him as he escorted her out into the city.

 

There comes a moment in an angel's life when she must make peculiar decisions. As they entered the restaurant together, Vaggie couldn't help but anticipate judgment from those around them due to their unusual pairing. Surprisingly, however, the small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant seemed to escape any immediate scrutiny. Even Vaggie, who had her reservations about the "Vees," found herself silently appraising one of them.

 

"Velvette, I... wasn't expecting..." Vaggie starts, giving the fashion designer a curious look, but Velvette dismisses her concern with a wave of her hand.

 

"They don't know a thing about this place. Good food, a quiet atmosphere. We won't be bothered here,"Velvette assures her, stowing her phone away. Vaggie can't help but smile at the gesture. "You have my full attention now. So, how's life been at your... princess's hotel?”

 

As Vaggie recounts her days of annoyance, they order drinks and Velvette interjects with her thoughts here and there, but overall, they enjoy each other's company.

 

However, their pleasant conversation is interrupted when two new guests enter the establishment.

 

For a few moments, nobody pays them any mind. Minutes pass until Vaggie notices a couple of patrons leaving more hastily than she'd like. She tries not to let it bother her as she listens to Velvette talk about something Valentino did. Then, she catches sight of the back of one of those patrons' heads—and his god-awful haircut makes her inhale sharply.

 

"Fuck.”

 

Velvette raises an eyebrow at Vaggie, just as Charlie glances over at her. Their eyes meet briefly, but neither says a word until Alastor says something to Charlie, causing her to look away. For something so simple, something that should feel normal—like going out to lunch with her girlfriend, something Vaggie had hoped to do with Charlie for years—she watches as Alastor smiles and relaxes while speaking to Charlie, their eyes meeting briefly before she turns her attention elsewhere.

 

All hell breaks loose as Charlie finally processes everything. The lonely nights, always feeling second best and struggling to understand where Vaggie had been and what she had been doing. Yet, here she was, facing the love of her life and the remnants of her feelings for the girl at the other table.

 

Charlie stands abruptly, and Vaggie does the same.

 

"You're here with her?!" Charlie shouts.

 

"You're here with him?!" Vaggie shouts back.

 

Velvette turns towards Alastor, who meets her gaze knowingly. He had been aware all along of who Vaggie was meeting. He turns back to her with a smirk.

 

"Well, this lunch date just got interesting," he remarks. "I must say, it's quite intriguing how this little Vee ended up with, well… another Vee.”

Chapter 9: Trust

Summary:

A double date and Alastor shows Charlie exactly who she belongs to.

Velvette smirks as, behind her, Charlie and Vaggie argue loudly.

"I'm sure you've been three steps ahead," Alastor remarks casually. "But is it... true? About those letters?" He watches intently as Charlie points accusingly at Vaggie.

Velvette glances over at Alastor. "Is there any truth to what you have with her?" She observes Vaggie's exasperated gesture. Alastor smiles, and Velvette joins him, their silent understanding saying a lot.

Velvette's eyes sparkled with mischief as she suggested, "How about a double date? Charlie and Alastor, Vaggie and me. It could be fun."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged quick, horrified glances before both vehemently replied, "No way!"

Alastor, however, merely chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Why don't we talk about this in private, darling?" he suggested smoothly. Despite her confusion, Charlie nodded and allowed him to lead her away.

In the bathroom, Alastor's demeanor shifted. He pressed her against the sink, capturing her lips in a sudden, passionate kiss. Charlie's initial shock gave way to a reluctant surrender, her mind swirling with the intensity of the moment.

"Just play along," Alastor murmured against her lips, his voice a silky command. "Trust me."

Meanwhile, back in the main room, Velvette sidled up to Vaggie with a playful smirk. "You know, Charlie deserves some good old fun," she teased, nudging Vaggie with her elbow. "Lighten up, won't you?"

Vaggie folded her arms, glaring at Velvette. "This is ridiculous," she snapped, but her resolve was wavering under Velvette's persistent teasing.

Velvette's laughter was light, almost musical. "Oh, come on, Vaggie. It'll be entertaining, at the very least. Who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

Alastor's kisses became more insistent, and Charlie found herself melting into him, a soft giggle escaping her lips. She gently pushed him back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Okay, I'll play along," she agreed, catching her breath. "But if I get uncomfortable, we leave. Promise?"

Alastor's smile was devilishly charming as he nodded. "Of course, darling. Your comfort is my priority."

Hand in hand, they returned to the main room. As they approached, Velvette's eyes immediately zeroed in on Alastor. "Oh, Alastor, it looks like you've got some lipstick on your face," she noted with a knowing grin.

Without missing a beat, Alastor replied, "I'm well aware," his voice dripping with amusement. Charlie blushed furiously, the memory of their recent encounter making her cheeks burn.

Vaggie huffed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, though her eye betrayed a hint of concern for Charlie.

Velvette, on the other hand, seemed delighted. "This is going to be so much fun," she chimed, winking at Charlie, who gave a nervous smile in return. The atmosphere was charged with an odd mix of tension and excitement, setting the stage for an evening none of them would forget.

As they settled into their seats at the restaurant, the waiter came by to take their orders. Charlie glanced at the menu, trying to focus despite the lingering embarrassment from earlier.

"I'll have the grilled salmon with roasted vegetables," Charlie said, her voice steady.

Velvette immediately followed, "I'll have the grilled salmon with roasted vegetables as well."

A soft chuckle escaped Alastor, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Vaggie, on the other hand, shot Velvette a look of utter bewilderment, as if she were an alien who had just landed at their table.

Feeling the awkwardness settle in, Charlie quickly added, "Actually, I think I'll change mine to the chicken alfredo instead."

But before she could fully change her order, Velvette cut in smoothly, "No, she'll have the grilled salmon with roasted vegetables. Trust me, it's her favorite."

The waiter hesitated, glancing between them, but ultimately nodded and jotted down the order. Charlie looked flustered but didn't argue further, while Alastor's smile widened, clearly enjoying the dynamic at play.

"Excellent choice," Alastor commented, his tone playful. "This evening is already proving to be quite... entertaining."

Charlie blushed again, focusing on the tablecloth while Vaggie continued to stare at Velvette, her exasperation palpable.

"Why do I feel like I'm the only sane one here?" Vaggie muttered under her breath, though Velvette only grinned wider, seeming to revel in the chaos.

As their orders were taken and the waiter walked away, the table fell into a tentative silence, each of them waiting to see what would happen next.

As they waited for their food to be prepared, the atmosphere around the table eased into casual conversation. Velvette, ever the curious one, leaned towards Alastor with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"So, Alastor," she began, her tone light but probing, "what is it that you like about Charlie?"

Alastor turned to Charlie, his gaze thoughtful as he studied her with a soft smile playing on his lips. Charlie blushed under his gaze but met his eyes with a shy smile of her own, curiosity twinkling in her expression.

"Well," Alastor started, his voice low and measured, "it's not something easily put into words, but if you insist..."

He took a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before his expression turned earnest and he began to speak:

In her eyes, I find a universe,

Where every glance is a whispered verse.

Her laughter, like a gentle breeze,

Brings warmth to even the coldest seas.

In her smile, I see the morning sun,

A promise of a new day begun.

Her touch, a soft and tender grace,

Leaves my heart in a tranquil place.

In her presence, I find my peace,

A refuge where my soul finds release.

Her love, a beacon in the darkest night,

Guides me home, where everything feels right.

For in her, I've found my heart's desire,

A love that sets my spirit on fire.

In every moment, she's my guiding star,

Forever and always, my love, my Charlie.

The table fell silent, the air heavy with the weight of Alastor's words. Charlie's eyes glistened with unshed tears, deeply touched by his heartfelt declaration. Velvette, normally so playful and teasing, watched in awe, her expression softened by the sincerity in Alastor's voice.

Vaggie, who had been quietly observing, glanced between them with a mixture of surprise and begrudging admiration. She cleared her throat, breaking the spell that had settled over them.

"Well," Vaggie said gruffly, "that was... unexpected."

Alastor smiled warmly at Charlie, his gaze never leaving hers. "Some things are worth expressing in poetry," he replied softly, reaching across the table to gently take her hand.

Charlie squeezed his hand back, her heart overflowing with emotion. In that moment, amidst the bustling restaurant and the curious gazes of other customers, they shared a connection that transcended words—a love that spoke volumes in its quiet intensity.

"Wow, Alastor," Velvette chimed in after a moment of stunned silence, her voice tinged with genuine admiration. "That was beautiful." She playfully nudged Vaggie with her elbow, teasingly adding, "See? Even Alastor can be a romantic."

Vaggie rolled her eye but couldn't hide a small smile, conceding silently to the unexpected charm of the moment.

As if on cue, the waiter returned with their meals, carefully balancing plates on his arm. However, in the flurry of movement, a glass of sweet tea slipped from his grasp, splashing across Vaggie's lap.

"Oops! I'm so sorry," the waiter exclaimed apologetically, reaching for napkins to help clean up the spill.

Velvette smirked knowingly, swiftly removing her jacket and draping it over Vaggie's lap before she could protest. Vaggie's cheeks flushed pink at the gesture, caught off guard by Velvette's uncharacteristic kindness.

"Here, this should help," Velvette said casually, ignoring Vaggie's protests.

Meanwhile, Alastor, watching the scene unfold with amusement, leaned back in his chair. The waiter, flustered and clearly embarrassed by the accident, approached Alastor to apologize again.

Alastor waved a hand dismissively but caught the waiter's eye with a subtle nod. In a swift, almost imperceptible motion, he slipped a generous tip into the waiter's hand, along with a quiet instruction.

"It's quite all right," Alastor said smoothly, his smile widening. "Accidents happen."

The waiter blinked in surprise but nodded gratefully, pocketing the tip with a conspiratorial wink at Alastor before hurrying away to attend to other tables.

Alastor turned back to the group, his gaze playful yet mysterious. "Consider it a twist of fate," he remarked cryptically, his tone hinting at a game only he seemed to understand.

As they settled into their meals, the initial tension from earlier moments eased into a more relaxed atmosphere. Plates of delicious food were passed around, and soon the conversation turned lighter, filled with anecdotes and occasional bursts of laughter.

Alastor, ever the playful one, leaned in towards Charlie with a mischievous glint in his eye, intending to grab a small bite from her plate. However, before he could reach for her fork, Velvette intercepted smoothly.

"Ah ah ah," Velvette teased, holding up her own fork with a smirk. "Why don't you try mine instead? It's the same as Charlie's."

Alastor chuckled, unable to resist Velvette's playful challenge. He accepted the fork and took a bite, his gaze never leaving Charlie's. The intensity of his stare made Charlie blush deeply, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue.

Vaggie, noticing the exchange, bristled with annoyance. She narrowed her eye at Alastor, who seemed oblivious to her silent disapproval. She gripped her fork tightly, ready to launch a verbal attack, but Velvette nudged her gently with her elbow, a silent warning to keep the peace.

"Relax, Vaggie," Velvette murmured under her breath, her voice laced with amusement. "Let them have their moment."

Vaggie huffed quietly, shooting a glare at Alastor before reluctantly turning her attention back to her own meal. 

As the group continued to enjoy their meal, the conversation shifted to various topics-funny stories from the past, peculiar experiences, and light-hearted banter. Laughter filled the air, making the ambiance warm and pleasant.

Alastor, emboldened by his own earlier affectionate words and the playful atmosphere, decided to take a more daring step. He slowly moved his hand under the table towards Charlie's leg, his fingers brushing against her inner thigh. Charlie's eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her composure, her gaze still focused on the lively discussion around them.

As Alastor's hand traveled lower and gently rubbed her clit through her pants, Charlie couldn't suppress a low, involuntary groan. The sound was soft, but in the relative quiet that had fallen over the table, it was noticeable.

Alastor, with a mischievous glint in his eye, looked at Charlie and said playfully, "Sorry, dear, what was that?”

Charlie, struggling to keep her composure under Alastor's touch, cleared her throat, her voice slightly strained. "Oh, nothing important!" She replied smoothly, although her eyes betrayed the intensity of what she was feeling.

Velvette raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but choosing to let the moment pass without comment. Vaggie, ever perceptive, glanced suspiciously between Alastor and Charlie, but said nothing, deciding not to address the sudden tension she sensed.

Alastor's hand remained where it was, his playful expression never faltering. The subtle exchange passed unnoticed by Velvette and Vaggie, but for Alastor and Charlie, it added a thrilling, private layer to the evening.

As the conversation at the table continued, Alastor grew bolder. He discreetly unzipped Charlie's pants under the table, his movements slow and deliberate to avoid drawing attention. Charlie's grip on the edge of the table tightened as Alastor's hand found her wet pussy through her panties, his fingers beginning to rub against her with teasing pressure.

Charlie's breath hitched slightly, but she managed to keep a relatively calm exterior, her eyes still locked on Alastor with a mixture of amusement and desire. She struggled to maintain her composure, the tension evident in the way her fingers dug into the table.

Across the table, Velvette's eyes darted between Alastor and Charlie, her curiosity piqued by their subtle exchange. Realizing what was happening, a mischievous smirk spread across her face. Inspired by the daring display, Velvette decided to engage in a bit of mischief herself. Slowly, she let her hand drift under the table towards Vaggie's legs.

Vaggie stiffened slightly as Velvette's fingers made contact with her thigh. She shot Velvette a sharp look, her eyes a mix of confusion and surprise. Velvette's smirk widened, her fingers tracing light patterns on Vaggie's thigh, moving higher with each pass.

Meanwhile, Alastor continued his ministrations on Charlie, feeling the heat and wetness of her through the thin fabric of her panties. Charlie's jaw clenched, a soft groan escaping her lips despite her best efforts to remain composed "Charlie," Alastor whispered, his voice low and teasing, "Are you alright?”

Charlie's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and desire. "Quite alright! Yep!" She managed to say, though her voice was thick with arousal.

Velvette, now fully aware of the charged atmosphere, leaned in closer to Vaggie, her fingers slipping higher up Vaggie's thigh. "Relax," she murmured, her voice soft and coaxing. “Let's enjoy the evening.”

The group continued their meal, with both Alastor and Velvette subtly playing with their respective partners under the table. The charged atmosphere was palpable, with each touch and glance adding to the night's intrigue.

As the last bites of food were taken and the plates began to empty, Vaggie looked ready to ask for the check. However, before she could speak, the restaurant's music shifted. The volume increased, and the tempo slowed, creating a romantic ambiance that filled the room.

Sensing an opportunity, Charlie discreetly adjusted her pants, a sly smile tugging at her lips. She stood up and, with an excited flourish, extended her hand to Alastor. "May I have this dance?" She asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. Velvette laughed at her asking him, but she thought it's just their charm.

Alastor, still playful from their earlier exchange, took her hand with a wide smile. "I'd love to," he replied softly.

As Alastor led Charlie to the dance floor, Velvette chuckled, watching the couple with an amused expression. She turned to Vaggie, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's sit this one out," she suggested, her tone light but teasing. "It's more fun to watch them, don't you think?"

Vaggie, still slightly flustered from Velvette's earlier touch, gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, her eyes following Charlie and Alastor.

On the dance floor, Alastor pulled Charlie close, his hands resting lightly on her waist. The music guided their movements as they swayed together, the world around them fading into the background. Alastor's gaze was intense, his earlier playful demeanor replaced by something deeper.

"You did well backthere," Alastor murmured, his voice low and filled with admiration. "You surprised me.”

Charlie giggled softly, her arms wrapped around his neck. "You weren't the only one surprised," she replied, her cheeks still flushed. "But I trust you.”

Alastor's smile softened and he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "And I you," he whispered, his voice a promise. 

Back at the table, Velvette and Vaggie watched the dancing couple. Velvette leaned in close to Vaggie, her voice playful yet sincere "You know, they make a cute pair," she said, her eyes never leaving Alastor and Charlie.

Vaggie sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her earlier annoyance. "Yeah, they do, don't they?" she admitted quietly. 

As the song continued, Alastor and Charlie moved in perfect harmony, their connection evident in every step. It was a dance that spoke volumes, a silent communication of trust, affection, and the promise of more to come.

As Charlie and Alastor continued to dance, Vaggie found herself lost in thought. Her initial skepticism about Alastor began to waver as she watched Charlie's radiant smile and the genuine happiness that shone in her eyes. Despite her reluctance to admit it, Vaggie couldn't deny that she had never seen Charlie quite this happy.

Maybe he's actually... good for her? Vaggie pondered, feeling a mix of confusion and reluctant acceptance. She didn't want to believe it, considering her long-standing mistrust of Alastor, but Charlie's joy was undeniable, speaking volumes about the connection they shared.

Beside her, Velvette noticed Vaggie's thoughtful expression and smirked knowingly. Leaning in, she whispered, "You know, sometimes it's best to let the past be the past." Then, without waiting for a response, she pressed a soft kiss to Vaggie's lips.

The unexpected kiss made Vaggie blush, but she found herself nodding in agreement. "Yeah," she murmured, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over her. "Maybe you're right."

On the dance floor, Charlie and Alastor's movements grew more intimate, their gazes locked in a heated exchange. As the music swelled, Alastor pulled Charlie even closer, and they kissed, a kiss full of passion and promises whispered between their hearts.

Watching them, Vaggie felt a new sense of acceptance wash over her. For the first time, she allowed herself to truly see the love between Charlie and Alastor, and it softened her heart. She smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.

Velvette, noticing the change, gave Vaggie's hand a gentle squeeze. "See? Things are changing for the better," she said softly, her eyes warm with understanding.

Vaggie nodded, her eye still on the dancing couple. "Yeah," she agreed, a sense of hope filling her chest. "Maybe they are."

As Charlie and Alastor continued to dance, lost in their own world, Vaggie allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a new beginning, one where love and happiness could coexist, even with Alastor in the picture. And for the first time, she felt at peace with that idea.

The waiter came back and asked what the table would like for dessert. Velvette's smile widened as she looked over the dessert menu. "I think I'll have the chocolate lava cake," she decided, placing her order with a hint of excitement. As she did, Charlie and Alastor rejoined the table, laughter lingering in their expressions.

Charlie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she saw the desserts arriving. "Ooh, everything looks delicious!" she exclaimed, grabbing a spoon and diving into her own choice of strawberry shortcake. She savored each bite, her joy evident.

Alastor, seated beside her, chuckled. "Enjoying yourself, Charlie?"

She nodded enthusiastically, then suddenly had an idea. "Here, Alastor, try this!" Charlie scooped up a generous spoonful of her dessert and offered it to him.

Alastor accepted the bite with a grin, his eyes lighting up. "Delightful, my dear," he said, savoring the flavor. In return, he offered her a spoonful of his own crème brûlée. Charlie eagerly accepted, her eyes closing in contentment.

Meanwhile, Velvette had settled comfortably, laying her head on Vaggie's shoulder. She sighed happily, feeling a rare sense of contentment wash over her. Glancing up, she noticed Vaggie's relaxed demeanor and gave her a playful wink.

Vaggie watched them, her initial apprehensions fading as she observed Alastor's genuine efforts to bring joy to Charlie. For the first time, she allowed herself to consider that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the threat she had once perceived him to be.

Velvette, still resting on Vaggie's shoulder, let out a contented sigh. "This is nice," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with sincerity.

Vaggie nodded, her hand gently brushing Velvette's hair. "Yeah, it really is."

As the evening drew to a close, the group found themselves reluctant to part ways. Alastor, ever the gentleman, stood and offered his hand to Charlie. "Shall we take one last turn around the dance floor?"

Charlie's eyes sparkled with delight. "I'd love that," she replied, placing her hand in his.

They moved gracefully to the center of the room, the soft music wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Charlie rested her head on Alastor's shoulder, feeling a sense of peace and belonging she hadn't known she needed.

Velvette glanced at Vaggie with a knowing smirk. "I can tell you still miss her.”

Vaggie tried to play it off with a casual shrug, but the flicker of sadness in her eye betrayed her. Velvette laughed softly, "Hey, friendships are still a thing, you know."

Vaggie looked at Velvette, her expression softening. "You're right," she agreed, a spark of determination igniting within her. She stood up abruptly. "I can still be her friend, dammit!"

Without another word, she marched towards the dance floor, her heart pounding with resolve. Charlie, caught up in the moment, rested her head on Alastor's shoulder, feeling a rare sense of peace. But when Vaggie gently tapped Alastor on the shoulder, he frowned, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly, but he stepped back with a forced grin, muttering under his breath, "Well, don't let me spoil the reunion."

Charlie looked up, surprised but then smiled warmly. Vaggie extended her hand, and with a playful twirl, she led Charlie into a spin. They moved gracefully to the center of the room, the soft music wrapping around them like a warm embrace. 

Alastor watched them from the sidelines, his annoyance simmering beneath his outwardly calm demeanor.

Alastor retreated to the table where Velvette was sitting, his expression darkened by irritation. He flopped down into his chair, crossing his arms with a huff.

Velvette couldn't help but laugh at his annoyance. "Aw, did someone steal your dance partner?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Alastor shot her a withering look. "It's not about the dance," he grumbled. "It's the principle of it."

Velvette chuckled even harder. "Oh, come on, Alastor. Lighten up. Friendships are important too, you know."

Alastor's gaze shifted back to the dance floor, where Charlie and Vaggie moved together, their expressions a mix of awkwardness and unresolved tension. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't deny there was something between them that needed mending. With a reluctant sigh, he leaned back in his chair, trying to let go of his irritation.

"Maybe," he conceded, "but it doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Velvette smirked, patting him on the shoulder. "There you go. See? It's not so bad to share once in a while."

Alastor just rolled his eyes, watching as Vaggie and Charlie exchanged a few words, their movements stiff but gradually becoming more synchronized. The air between them was thick with unspoken feelings and a sense of something unresolved, but at least it was a start.

"You know, Alastor," Velvette said with a grin, "love really does find a way, doesn't it?"

Alastor chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Indeed it does, Velvette. It's quite remarkable how it can weave its way through the most unexpected places. Charlie and I, for instance, we're like poetry."

Velvette raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Poetry, huh? How so?"

Alastor leaned back, his smile growing. "Our relationship is a tapestry of verses and stanzas, each moment a line in our own epic. There's a rhythm to us, a cadence that just... fits."

Velvette laughed, a hint of admiration in her eyes. "That's a beautiful way to put it, Alastor. But let's be real, the life of an Overlord is tough. And look at you, with the princess wrapped around your finger."

Alastor's expression softened, a rare vulnerability showing through his usually confident demeanor. "You have it wrong, Velvette. She has me by the strings," he confessed, leaning closer. "I'd let her manipulate me all day."

Velvette's eyes widened in surprise, and then she burst into laughter. "I never thought I'd hear that from you, Alastor. The Radio Demon, willing to be led around by a princess!"

Alastor joined in her laughter, the sound rich and genuine. "What can I say? She's... different. She brings out something in me I didn't know existed."

Velvette nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "It's rare to find someone who can do that. Hold onto her, Alastor."

He smiled, a mixture of warmth and determination in his eyes. "I intend to."

As the song ended, Charlie and Vaggie shared a brief, awkward laugh. They exchanged a few more words, their earlier tension easing just a bit. They made their way back to the table, smiling slightly.

Alastor and Velvette immediately placed their hands on the thighs of their respective partners as they sat down, their eyes locking in a shared, knowing smile. Alastor leaned in close to Charlie, his breath warm against her ear.

"Looks like you forgot who you belong to," he whispered, his voice low and suggestive. He followed it with a wink.

Charlie blushed, a shy smile spreading across her face. She glanced at Alastor, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Velvette, catching the exchange, chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the unfolding dynamics.

Vaggie, noticing the shift in the atmosphere, raised an eyebrow but decided to keep her thoughts to herself for now. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and as everyone settled back at the table, a sense of curiosity and unspoken promises lingered in the air.

Alastor signaled the waiter and asked for the check, paying promptly and leaving a generous tip. Rising from his seat, he turned to Charlie and extended his hand with a gentlemanly flourish. "Shall we?"

Charlie smiled, placing her hand in his. As they started to leave, Velvette shook Alastor's hand, "You know, you're not that bad," she said with a playful smirk.

Alastor raised an eyebrow but returned the gesture with a polite nod. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Vaggie stepped forward, giving Charlie a quick hug. "Goodbye for now, Charlie. Take care."

"You too, Vaggie," Charlie replied warmly, a hint of lingering emotion in her voice.

As they parted ways, Alastor and Charlie began their walk back to the Hazbin Hotel. The night air was cool and crisp, and the city was alive with its usual chaotic energy. Alastor walked beside Charlie, his presence both comforting and slightly intimidating.

After a few moments of silence, Alastor glanced at Charlie with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Charlie, I have a rather unusual request."

Charlie looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

Alastor's smile widened. "I'd like you to give me your panties."

Charlie's face turned a deep shade of red. "Say what now?!"

Without missing a beat, Alastor snapped his fingers, summoning a vintage British telephone booth beside them. He opened the door with a flourish. "Be a good girl and do as you're told," he said, his tone both commanding and teasing.

Charlie hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. The mix of surprise and excitement made her pulse quicken. She looked at Alastor, seeing the blend of confidence and anticipation in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the booth, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Charlie stepped inside the telephone booth, her heart racing. She glanced around nervously before taking a deep breath and unbuttoning her pants. As she slid them down, she couldn't help but notice the dampness of her panties- probably from the teasing occurrence earlier during their dinner double date. Blushing furiously and biting her lip, she slipped off her panties and, on an impulse, lightly rubbed her clit for a few seconds, feeling a rush of sensation. She doesn’t know how she has more lust for this man than any other partner she has had, but she’ll take it any day.

She quickly pulled her pants back up, taking another deep breath to steady herself. Opening the door, she stepped out and handed her panties to Alastor, her cheeks flushed.

Alastor took the panties with a wicked grin, bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply. His eyes closed in pleasure as he savored the scent. "Delightful," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Without breaking eye contact, he traps her back into the booth and unzipped his pants, wrapping her panties around his cock, his movements deliberate and confident. "You won't be needing them anytime soon, dear,"' he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Charlie's blush deepened, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through her. The boldness of Alastor's actions left her both stunned and intrigued, as they continued their walk to the hotel, the night holding promises of further adventures.

As they entered the Hazbin Hotel, Husk looked up from his spot at the bar, raising an eyebrow. "How'd it go—" he started to ask, but Alastor cut him off sharply.

"Not now," Alastor said curtly, his grip on Charlie's hand firm as he led her down the hallway. They moved quickly, Alastor's urgency palpable. Once they were out of sight, he pushed Charlie against the wall, his body pressing into hers. His lips crashed onto hers in a deep, fervent kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with an almost desperate need.

As he bit her lower lip, Charlie gasped in surprise, feeling a slight sting as a drop of blood was drawn. Alastor immediately sucked on her lip, the pressure soothing and intense, leaving it swollen and throbbing. 

Without a word, he opened the door to her room and practically threw her onto the bed. His eyes dark with desire, he began tearing away his clothes with a primal intensity. Buttons flew, fabric ripped, and within moments he stood before her, breathing heavily, his predatory gaze locked onto her.

Charlie lay on the bed, her heart pounding, watching him with a mix of anticipation and excitement. The raw hunger in his eyes made her shiver, knowing that the night was far from over. He leans to kiss her as Alastor's tentacles begin to emerge from his body. They moved slowly, caressing Charlie's skin as they undressed her. However, unlike Alastor himself, they took their time to explore every inch of her body. Once she was in just her lacy bra, the tentacles gripped her wrists and ankles, holding her in place.

"Alastor," Charlie breathed, her eyes wide with surprise. She cannot move, her breathing gasping at the touch of the tentacles and his wandering hands.

Alastor smirked, his eyes never leaving hers. He trailed his fingers over the soft skin of her stomach, causing Charlie to gulp a breath.

"You're so beautiful," Alastor murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Charlie blushed, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt his lips brush against her skin. She arched her back as she felt his teeth graze her nipple through the fabric of her bra. Alastor chuckled, his hands moving to undo the clasp of her bra. Once he had removed it, he tossed it to the side, his eyes taking in the sight of her bare breasts.

"Fuck, Charlie," Alastor breathed, his eyes darkening with desire.

Charlie bit her lip, her eyes meeting his as she felt his hand move between her legs. She gasped as she felt his fingers brush against her pussy, causing her to moan. Alastor smirked, his fingers continuing to explore her slowly as he leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

Charlie arched her back as she felt his teeth graze her nipple, wanting her fingers to tangle in his hair and wrap her arms around her lover. Instead, she’s trapped. She cannot move, and Alastor continues to tease her nipple as he slid a finger inside her pussy, causing her to moan. He curled his finger, hitting her g-spot as he continued to tease her nipple.

Alastor pulled back, his eyes darkening with desire as he let his cock rub against her pussy. It doesn’t penetrate her, just rubs on her folds. He smirks wider as he feels her wetness coat his cock, causing it to twitch with desire. 

“This, my dear, is a reminder that you are all mine," Alastor murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Alastor's eyes were filled with a sinister delight as he looked down upon Charlie who was bound on her bed. Her arms and legs were spread wide apart with his tentacles, and her chest heaved in excitement and anticipation. She was panting and moaning, her eyes pleading with him to touch her and fill her with his hard, thick cock.

Alastor chuckled and reached back down to grab the panties, and begins stroking his cock with the lacy red fabric, his eyes never leaving Charlie's face. He teased her, whispering dirty words and moaning loudly, making her pussy drip with desire. She writhed and struggled, her body begging for his touch, but he only tightened his grip on her, denying her what she wanted.

"Please, Alastor," Charlie whispered, "Please, I need you inside me. I need to feel you." Alastor chuckled again and continued to jerk off, his eyes dark with desire. He loved teasing her like this, making her beg for him. He knew she was feeling the desperation of wanting to orgasm, and he wanted to deny her that too.

"Beg for it, Charlie," Alastor said, his voice husky with lust. "Beg for my cock, and maybe I'll give it to you."

Charlie's eyes widened with hearing him say such a thing to her, and she licked her lips, her body writhing in anticipation. Alastor smirked and leaned over her, his cock just inches away from her pussy. He teased her, rubbing the tip of his cock against her clit, making her moan and groan with pleasure.

"Please, Alastor," Charlie begged, her voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need you inside me. I need to feel you."

Alastor chuckled and pulled away, denying her once again. He stood up and began pacing around the room, his eyes still locked on Charlie's face. His hand stroked his cock as she watched him, her body trembling with desire and frustration. 

"Please, Alastor," Charlie begged again, her voice breaking with desperation. "Please, I can't take it anymore. I need you inside me...don’t you want your princess?”

Alastor continued to pleasure himself in front of her, yet it lacked the significance he desired. He needed something truly magnificent to make this night unforgettable. Then, mid-stroke, inspiration struck him: a poem, the very thing that had initially brought them together. And so, he began:

In this crimson haze, all fades from sight,

All I see is red, in the embers' glow,

A fiery dance, in the night's shadow,

Whispers of warmth in the depth of night.

In the hush of night, softly sip me,

Draw me close to your lips, let me slip free,

Where silence and touch entwine,

Lost in the fervor of a moment divine.

Charlie’s eyes widen in realization. These are parts of her poems. He memorized bits and pieces of the poems that she had written. She didn’t think she could fall in love any more with him.

He worships me as a deity divine,

A daughter of defiance and fire,

His touch a prayer, a sacred line,

Etched upon my soul's desire.

Take hard, and make me feel alive,

I want to be the cause of your sins,

Haunt me. Hunt me. Promise me,

In the red's embrace, where it all begins.

In that embrace, we find a timeless bliss,

Lost in the magic of our stolen kiss.

Alastor couldn't contain himself as he spoke. With a final, shuddering breath, he released, his cum spilling over her stomach and clit. The sheer intensity of the moment caused one of his tentacles to slip from her wrist. He sighs, as he leans over her to look at her face: 

Can't you see the fire within my eyes,

Yearning for your touch, beneath the skies?

Come find me, let your heart speak it,

Mark me, stain me, in love's fierce spirit.

I am the instrument, in your grasp I writhe,

A puppet to your whims, compelled to survive.

Lost in the fervor, where passion collides,

In your hands, my soul and desire thrives.

Seizing the opportunity, she reached down, spreading her pussy and taking his cum that is smeared on her stomach, and swiping her hand right in it. He watches in awe as she takes it, and begins to touch herself, rubbing her clit. 

Oh, now that’s a sight for Alastor. 

Alastor smirked and finally gave in, climbing onto the bed and positioning himself above her. He teased her some more, rubbing his cock against her clit and making her moan and groan with pleasure.

"Please, Alastor," Charlie begged one last time, her voice hoarse with desire. "Please, fuck me."

Alastor finally gave in, thrusting himself inside her, filling her completely. Charlie's eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a loud moan escaping her lips as he began to move. He was rough and dominant, each thrust asserting his control and desire. Their bodies moved in a primal rhythm, the room filled with the sounds of them fucking like animals. Charlie's nails dug into his back, her breaths coming in sharp gasps as he took what he wanted from her, each motion a testament to their unrestrained passion. The intensity of the moment built with every thrust, pushing them both closer to the edge of release.

With every powerful thrust, Alastor drove them both deeper into a frenzy of raw desire. The heat between them was palpable, their bodies slick with sweat. Charlie's moans grew louder, more urgent, as she clung to him, her nails raking his back, leaving marks in their wake.

"Yes, just like that, fuck me hard baby…" she panted, her voice filled with need and pleasure. Alastor's grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her hips as he quickened his pace, each movement more powerful than the last. The room echoed with the sound of their fervent coupling, a symphony of passion and intensity.

Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them as they neared the brink. Alastor's thrusts became erratic, driven by the overwhelming sensation building within him Charlie's body tensed, her back arching as she teetered on the edge of climax.

With a final, deep thrust Alastor pushed them both over the edge and Charlie cried out, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing over her. Alastor followed seconds later, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he spilled inside her, his cum mingling with hers, filling her with his hot, sticky cum. 

They collapsed together breathless and spent, their bodies still intertwined. For a moment, they lay there in the aftermath, the intensity of their connection lingering in the air around them

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and desire. "I love you, Alastor," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Alastor smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "I love you too, Charlie," he whispered back.

They lay there for a few moments, their bodies entwined and their hearts beating as one. Alastor slowly pulled out of her, and Charlie winced as he did.

"Sorry, love," Alastor said, kissing her forehead. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Charlie smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "You didn't," she whispered.

Alastor smiled and leaned down to kiss her again. They lay there for a few more moments, their bodies entwined and their hearts beating as one. It was a perfect moment, one that they would remember for the rest of their lives. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen, and she wanted more.

Alastor leaned down and kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth. "Rest, my dear. You deserve sleep," he whispered.

Charlie smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "You're too good for me, Al," she whispered back.