alastor 2/18/2024 marks my first broadcast under Peached TVs! Quite entertaining indeed :)
As per the crowd's request, a master list of all the Radio Demon's broadcasts is listed below
FULL STREAMS
TIL' DEATH DON’T WE PART ft. Yandere!Alastor
𖤐 SUMMARY: After fleeing from your fiancé, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it—on Earth or not.
THE GOLDEN NIGHT ft. Human!Alastor + Human!Rosie
✮ COMIC: Alastor locks eyes on his newest victim—Rosie. Tables turn and they end up having a pleasant...feast, together.
SHORT STREAMS
ALASTOR TENDING TO LICKING YOUR WOUNDS ft. Alastor
𖤐 SUMMARY: After an accidental paper cut, Alastor loses control momentarily and licks up your blood....more
I'm not taking requests from anon but …. I will….always accept inspiration in my inbox. Just don’t expect a direct response.
I’m alive. Boooooy has shit been difficult and every day I kinda panic but I think survival mode is finally shutting off. I could list all the shit but why? It's not like we arent all wading through varying piles of shit on a weekly basis lately.
Curiosity
Alastor doesn’t believe sex can feel all that great for the ones being fucked. You offer to educate him on the matter with a little hands on learning. Everyone wins.
「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x PussyHaving!Reader (has pussy and is called girl but I mean…I don’t know their business), casual virginity loss, non-sexually repulsed alastor, insulting but highly accurate bowling ball analogy, cervix smooches, creampie because dessert is a necessity, friends with questionable benefits, missionary position, science???, almost fingering, thumb (Singular), empty death threats, saliva as lube」
Minors I will yeet you back into the year of the dragon if you ignore the MDNI 🐉
Alastor’s hooves kicked playfully, slowly, in the air behind him as he rested on his belly. Two clawed fingers kept your lower lips pulled apart as he stared inquisitively at your self consciously twitching entrance.
“People’s things fit in here? I could see fingers, sure. A thumb, maybe…”, he mused, watching you clench around nothing. He learned from Angel more than he liked to admit and things seemed to fit the best for human and hellish anatomy alike.
A large digit prodded, his head lifting and eyes meeting yours from between your spread thighs. His look was waiting for your approval or dissent. You nodded, sighing out another educational tidbit, “It feels best if things are slick.”
Alastor paused before wrapping his tongue around his thumb and coating it with viscous black saliva. Thumbpad facing down, his curved claw slipped into you easily. The natural roundness of the edges kept you from any cuts, but you had a feeling it’d be easy enough to do harm if he wasnt mindful of how he moved it.
You could feel his other fingers pressing flat against the bottom of your ass. Instinctively you tightened around the digit.
“It's snug.” He sighed, vindicated. It was far too small a hole to fit anything more without tearing. Therefore: painful.
“Well, it stretches quite a bit. It can adapt to alot. You - ergh - people can use soda cans and twelve inch dildos even for pleasure.” You rested on your bed, naked from the waist down. Your conversations together were always very open and without shame, neither of you worried to offend the other with questions about sex and gender. So when Alastor mused he couldn’t understand what the pussy-possessors among society got out of sex (he could understand the pleasure of a good squeeze on a cock, even if he hadn’t ever experienced anything beyond a hot mouth and a tight fist) the conversation just naturally progressed to your own personal sex education class. He’d only ever seen such anatomy in medical texts.
He cackled, “You are naive if you think that is true.”
“Alastor, who's the expert here? I - can you remove your thumb? I feel like a bowling ball.”
Too quickly he took back his finger, your shoulders lifting slightly from the bed from the sudden loss. He paused a moment before adding, “You and a bowling ball have the same number of finger-able holes.”
Your glare went unnoticed, Alastor shifting onto his elbows again.
“Do you think people would willingly have sex if it was always uncomfortable?” You were lifted up on your elbows now too. Locked eye to eye with a very smug deer demon.
He hummed, humans were animals and all animals followed instinct. “Maaaaybeee.” He teased, eyes breaking contact to look again at the now closed lips. “Regardless,” a wicked grin, “I can’t imagine it fitting without damage and pain.”
A stalemate.
“You have seen people have sex, right?” You asked.
An uncomfortable pause.
“Why on earth would I watch people have sex?”
Surprise, then confusion, but finally you settled on intrigue.
“Okay, do it. I’ll show you it feels good for me and you can wipe that smile off your face.”
He tutted, “Never.” Alastor saw your flash of insult, “to the smile. Delivering pain is a hobby of mine, no matter the vehicle!”
When he sat up on his knees you shot up and you blurted out, “Wait. Do you have like, hell syphilis or something? Are you clean?”
His hair bristled, “Do YOU have syphilis?!”
“No.” You said it plainly.
Head shaking imperceptibly, a subtle ‘no’ mixed with a silent ‘then why would I?!’ telegraphed via his glaring red eyes, “Me neither.”
A bad start. Speaking of…
“Do you know how to start?”
“Is it much different than my thumb?”
I hope so.
“Not really.”
He sighed away the remnants of agitation — was he clean?? Really? — and unbuttoned his pants. When his hands paused on the elastic of his underwear your head tilted curiously.
A step you’d both forgotten, cocks inherently had no bones like helpful fingers. Why was the prospect of handling himself mortifying but entering you wasn’t? Very rarely did he find you someone to have any concerns about and never had he felt an ounce of judgment when he admitted his blind spots and areas of naïveté.
But this was… a step beyond. Almost humiliating in a sense, the source of the feeling was buried deep and obscured by time and disinterest.
“I’ll help.” Sitting up further, your hands went forward before you yanked them back into your bubble, “If that’s alright.”
Perfect, if he wasn’t able to get it up it’d be your fault and not his, he thought.
Nodding, he let his hands come to rest at his sides as he sat back on his legs.
The newness was evident in how he didn’t consider the mechanics of the position. You struggled a little to get this black underwear down his hips enough to release his very unaware cock.
Lifting his hips again and allowing you to pull the briefs down as far as needed (which seemed too far, honestly), you finally had eyes on something you’d been passably curious about.
It wasn’t that he was unattractive but there was a guilt to lusting over Alastor. He’d made it painfully obvious he didn’t find anyone at the hotel sexually interesting. It just isn’t his bag, as Husk had explained. Perhaps liquor had your eyes lingering a little too long on the resident villain.
Nervous and sweaty palms seemed beneficial as you held his soft member. They always felt so silly like this. How useless. Floppy. Your amused smile wasn’t comforting him an ounce.
It twitched, Alastor’s hands fighting to not come to his face and let him disappear away.
“Cute.” You whispered as you wrapped a hand around the Newtonian fluid-esque cock. You didn’t see his horrified face, focused instead on the feel of his foreskin sliding beneath your fingers. Alastor’s attention, too, shifted. He needed to breathe normally and that required all hands on deck (no puns intended). He’d never let anyone in death touch —-
A soft glow of blue flickered somewhere deep in his mind, a sloppy memory of a drunken slip up
It’d been what felt like a lifetime since he’d let anyone put their hands on his body.
And due to that time his body reacted quickly and soon you had a handful. You both took a relieved breath then, the hurdle mounted. A little shock of pleasure to your core as you stroked his now firm cock made you shiver. It was hot in your hands, how much of that heat would you feel in your guts soon? Would he put it in and just—- pop it out like he had his thumb?
You’d shoo him away shortly after and finish things yourself in that case.
Alastor’s hands lost the battle and came to cover his lower face. That hidden grin showed teeth and he clenched his jaw to keep from letting a mewl slip. His cock was leaking so much it was embarrassing him.
“Now you’re just playing.” He hissed.
He wasn’t wrong.
Wordlessly you came to lie on your side, a roll to your stomach interrupted as you considered things. With a glance back at the virgin you decided basic was best and returned to your back. Nothing too exciting.
“Whenever you’re ready, then.” The smugness oozed through your tone. You knew he didn’t know enough to figure out what ready was.
Alastor parted your legs further with his own widening thighs as he lowered his center to line up with you. He recalled you telling him the hole was very close to the bottom and it hadn’t dawned on him how low that was until the muscles of his thighs burned with the split. How was he going to move like this, he wondered.
Another recollection — wetter is better.
And though he could see a glistening wetness readying to drop down between your cheeks, he wasn’t experienced enough to know just how much your body could self lubricate. So for good measure and out of a sweet ignorance he spit into his palm and rubbed it down his cock from head to root.
The sound made you clench again. Why was that so hot? You’d never kissed, nor held hands. But now his sweat and cum would be fucked into you.
Another clench as that lightning lit up your core, back bowing slightly with the sensation.
Could overlords sense blood pressure or hear heartbeats? You werent sure, but suddenly you worried about it. You had to close your eyes and focus only on your breathing, unaware it was your turn to hide your true reactions. If you started panting now he’d laugh so hard he’d go soft.
But the truth was, you could begin beatboxing and he wouldnt notice it. He was scooting closer, lowering and then raising his hips again to find a position that he could hold.
Thank Lucifer he never wasted time with this before.
Finally he lined up and let his held breath go. His cockhead was slick and slipped up between your lips and headbutted your clit when he tried to press in.
Your shocked scream was stifled into a gritted cry, bringing the back of your hand up to silence yourself. It hurt a little at first but that faded quickly. You whispered a single, “fuck.”
If he wasn’t already cock out Alastor would have just left. But, that would mean saying he was wrong and failed. Which wasn’t going to happen so he slid his cock back down the way he went and pressed into you with false confidence he knew it would go in.
He gasped when he breached your lips. You were so hot. And that snugness was back, head and just an inch of shaft sheathed but his brain felt like most of his body was being tightly embraced.
You felt him twitching, and tried to fight back the instinct to tighten around him to feel that little bit of movement even better. It didn’t work.
He hissed a “don’t” when you clenched around him, but you barely heard it over your own little moan. Alastor leaned forward and let his hands rest on either side of your ribs. Head hidden behind long and hanging bangs you couldnt see how his face twisted in concentration. He could cum like this, just one little movement and he was sure he’d finish. Not a normal problem for him, but it's easy to have a 100% win rate for a game you played just a few times before.
Alastor’s body was stick straight above you.
His body wasn’t touching you except for the cock in you. It was odd, like he was hovering. Would he fuck you without touching you? That seemed so like him.
“Well, color me surprised.” He finally spoke, words breathy. He didn’t smell an ounce of blood so he knew you hadn’t torn. Your body was relaxed beneath him, your upper chest flush. When he looked up you were peering down over your cheeks with parted lips. He’d seen such expressions before in paintings deemed too salacious for museums in his time.
“It feels even better when you’re moving.” You offered. He didn’t have to continue now that you’d proven your point but you really wanted him to. You’d not been fucked in ages and this was a situation that wouldn’t happen again. “But if this is enough proof…” you trailed off.
He could imagine it. The feeling of that tender and somehow gripping flesh hugging him tightly as he moved forward more…. And pulled out. His glands would catch, wouldn’t it hurt you then? Wouldn’t he be scraping your delicate insides?
Alastor began pressing further in. Your hands gripped the sheets slightly, your walls were pushed open by his now steel hard member and you could feel a pool of heat low in your womb. You needed him to hit it, to thrust forward and rut against your cervix. But you had to take it slow, this was about him answering his questions first and foremost.
“It won’t go any further…” he leaned back and inspected the situation. Two inches or so remained out in the cold.
You shifted your hips and could feel the resistance. “If you start,” you needed a second to gather yourself before saying the rest, “thrusting properly now you’ll be able to get the rest in soon.”
His brow cocked.
He’d have to trust you on that one and simply keep going. There were still more ways to move within you, to see if the piercing friction really could make you feel good. A moan broke through his defenses when he pulled out until the glands of his cock felt caught on your entrance.
Alastor’s body crumpled, the pleasure made his muscles go weak. It was as if he couldn’t control them at all. Dangerous.
His hips bucked from the sensitivity, thrusting forward. Alastor’s head fell back with a sharp gasp. Before he could worry over how he looked his hips were starting a shaky and mistimed pace. Head falling forward again so he could look down at where you were joined, he groaned. His cock was disappearing, girth holding your cunt open as it clamped down against him.
Alastor felt dizzy from the physical rapture and a helpful redirection of blood. His body was light; bright and weightless.
What a treacherous sensation. He could almost understand rakes* now.
Your first real moan reminded him why he was doing what he was. Face shooting up from the shadow of his hair he watched yours. Your brow was furrowed slightly, but apart from how hard you were biting your bottom lip he didnt see anything pained in your expression. Your sounds definitely did not say you were being harmed in any way.
As his cock pulled against your entrance again and rammed back in, he gained new ground just like you’d assured. Another hungry thrust and he was flush with your body. You choked out a noise and gripped the sheets hard.
“Painful?,” he opted for a single word to avoid his voice cracking with uncontrolled radio static. Alastor slowed his pace out of caution, he enjoyed pain but not like this. He’d only been trying to shock you earlier with his comments when he said otherwise.
Your hips rolled, pressing him deeper and rolling your eyes back. It earned you a flipping of radio stations softly in the air around you. A babbled, “No, no,” before you could find the sense to look at him, “You’re doing so well. It feels so good. Don’t stop.” Another roll of your body to feel his leaking slit digging into your cervix. That white hot pleasure was fading now to something less mind numbing but still worth chasing. He had you split open down the center and you needed to feel him moving deep within.
‘Well, Fuck,’ Alastor thought. The mechanics didn’t make much sense but he was seeing undeniable proof. He shifted his hips until his lower stomach was pressing down onto you and let his own normally unwanted instincts take over. You asked him to not stop, after all.
Fluidly now he could fuck you, lower back activated and driving himself home deeper. Soon he was grunting softly each time he bottomed out. Animalistic auto-pilot kept his pace even and punishing.
A slurred ‘feels s’good’ tumbled from your still parted lips.
He watched your neck muscles strain and face redden, you were holding your breath and he couldnt understand why.
Eyes slipping closed he focused on your warmth, and he could hear the sound of his skin sticking and popping free from your core. A faint wetness to his thighs came into focus from the fuzzy edges of his mind. He felt like he was melting from the center outward.
Alastor failed to say anything when his climax mounted because it blindsided him. He leaned back for leverage and held your thighs for grip. A few harsh slaps of his skin into yours, your body rocking up slightly with the force before you felt his own warm wetness filling you. A sensation that came in waves with each twitch of his cock. When his body stuttered and a few more thrusts chased his semen deeper into you, your feet kicked out in an uncontrollable spasm of pleasure.
You took in a deep breath and pulled him closer with your legs as soon as you regained control. Alastor’s turn to fist the sheets, you working your thighs and core to ride him from your place on your back. A few more sharp inhales, pressure mounting to a daunting peak before you could make that string snap. It took a frenzied self fucking with Alastor’s now oversensitive cock but you managed to find some relief with a small orgasm.
Alastor didn’t need you to announce it for him to understand. A modest wave of embarrassment hit, not only was he woefully incorrect but the pleasure was apparently so great you’d chase more friction to reach your orgasm on a cock before just taking your own hand. Was it impolite to not have offered to help?
Your body went slack, muscles disengaging as your sweaty thighs and ass slid from his lap and down his legs. He was still bent over you and cock buried half in you, catching his breath.
“I suppose I should eat crow now. Your little flower is far more accommodating than I gave you credit for!” He pulled out in one go and you felt the rush of his seed spilling out after him. “Though you must admit there was a little discomfort.”
With a heavy sigh you nodded, “Sometimes a little bit makes it feel even better…” a swoosh and a twinkle was heard just past your knees but you didn't move to open your eyes.
A clawed finger booped your nose, “If you value your afterlife…”
A sharp stare to the fully dressed and unsticky radio demon knelt between your legs, you rolled your eyes at the empty threat he always gave you after your unfettered talks, “I won't tell a soul.”
“Good girl!”
*a rake is a rakehell (hell raiser), considered loose with morals for chasing women and drink.
