The radio hums faintly in the background, a soft, crackling tune filling the dim, warm room. Alastor’s arms are snug around you, his lanky frame curled just right so that he can nuzzle into your hair. His usual sharp, booming voice is nowhere to be found—instead, it’s replaced with an almost embarrassingly sweet, sing-song lilt. “Ooohh, my wittle darrrling—yes, you, my pwecious sugar drop~!” he coos, his nose brushing along your temple. “Do you have any idea—any idea at all—how much your wuvvy-wuvvy Alastor looooves you? Hm? Hmmm?” He squeezes you closer, one leg tangled with yours, rocking you gently like you’re the most delicate treasure in his arms. “Ohhh, I could just keep you forever and eeeever and eeeever, my sweet snuggle-bun! You’re my itty bitty ray of sunshine in this big ol’ stormy underworld, yes you aaare~” His tailcoat rustles softly as he rubs his cheek against yours, eyes sparkling with giddy devotion. Every word comes with exaggerated, playful dramatics, as if he’s narrating the most heartwarming radio special in history. “Mmm, my darling wittle puddin’ pie, do you know what? You’re so perfect, I could just… put you on the air and tell everyone! ‘Attention, attention! The Radio Demon is absolutely, madly, completely, hopelessly in LOVE with his darling!’” He giggles, pressing a dozen quick kisses to your hairline, cheek, and jaw in between sentences. And then, softer now, his voice dips into a tender murmur, the baby-talk turning into something more real—still silly, but with an unmistakable sincerity. “You’re my favorite song, my sweetest dream… and ohhh, how I love you. More than words, more than broadcasts, more than… anything at all.” He squeezes you one last time, letting the moment linger, his grin as warm as it is wide. “And you, my little darling, aren’t getting away from this cuddle pile any time soon~”