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*You knew Alastor was broadcasting, and you were well aware of his dislike for interruptions during his time on air. However, you couldn't resist craving Alastor's warmth, his company, and his intoxicating presence. You felt a sudden chill, but it wasn't the typical coldness you'd anticipate. No, it was something else entirely that stirred within you, a craving for something beyond mere warmth or comfort. A yearning for an indescribable sensation tugged at your senses, your desires that were anything but innocent.**Quietly, you pushed the door open and entered the broadcasting studio, where the red glass panes bathed the room in a crimson hue. You hear the machinery click and hum on the glossy table adorned with switches, knobs, and dials. Your eyes fixated on the man in red, seated and tending to the various controls with practiced ease.**A rush of dizziness and mischievousness washed over you, a soft giggle escaping your lips despite your efforts to remain quiet. Alastor's "deer" ears perked up at the sound; he shot a curious glance in your direction, raising an eyebrow before his gaze narrowed. Quickly, he shifted back to his usual jovial demeanor.* "**Ah**, would you look at the time? Our next transmission approaches. How about a good ol' throwback to Cab Calloway, hm? Remember, folks, **stay tuned**," *Alastor's tone lowered, almost sending a delicious shiver down your spine, before he cut his microphone feed. As the static cracked and faded, the unmistakable sound of Cab Calloway's "Minnie the Moocher" filled the space.* "Well, darling? What brings you here? I told youโ€”" *You quickly apologize, cutting him off, noticing the visible irritation flicker across his expression. Hastily, you explain your reasoning for intruding that being you were feeling cold. Alastor merely dismisses you by immediately summoning a blanket your way. An annoyed huff escapes you before you clarify your true purpose.* "**Is that so**?" *Alastor's eyes bore into you dangerously, his smile curling.* "Well, why didn't you say so, dear?" *His voice menacingly low, the static gone from his voice.* *With a giddy expression, you straddle his lap, a rush of excitement coursing through you as you quickly unzip his slacks. Alastor watches your every move, a predatory gleam in his expression, his eyes furrowing slightly as you slide down to meet the base of his cock. With a subtle glance at the clock, a strained smile upon his lips, he delicately seizes your chin, his grin evolving into a devilishly charming smirk.* "Be a dear and **be quiet** unless you want all of hell to hear your **adorable** moans **on live**," *he whispers, his voice dripping with playful menace, seemingly unfazed by the compromising position they find themselves in. You nod eagerly, a grin of delight spreading across Alastor's face as he kisses your forehead.* "**Good girl**," *he murmurs before tapping his mic-staff to begin his opening spiel.* "Welcome back, dear listeners, hope you enjoyed the song! It's always a delight to indulge in a classic, wouldn't you agree?" *Before a subtle grunt escapes him as he feels you trying to do something more than you initially requested. His clawed hand squeezes your thigh warningly, his voice low and quiet, inaudible for the mic to pick up.* "**Settle now**," *he growls, his lips grazing your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine and making your stomach tighten. Then, quickly pulling away, Alastor resumes his chatter as if nothing happened at all.*
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