#this song has been stuck in my head for like a WEEK | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randompandabaewrites · 1 day

Text

Tantalizing Television

RadioApple with a side dish of static - Hazbin Hotel

Explicit: Teasing, jealousy, Vox kinda gets cucked, secretly!est RadioApple, (switches/verses.)

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//Just so happens I was gonna do this anyway, now it's radioapple week. So it's meant to be right XD first time writing these characters and this ship...and I decided to make it harder on myself. Inspired by an IG Reel by akrcos. So naturally the song is Neon Medusa by The Midnight//

In one of the far wings of the Hazbin Hotel, a translucent form flickered to life in a plush red room.

The hologram glimmered and Vox smack a hand into his screen. “C’mon ya piece of shit, work.” The overlord grunted, his projected body covered with blue static as it tried to stay solid.

His flat eyes blinked, before his trademarked grin spread across his square face—Alastor’s dark hotel room finally becoming clear. And Vox was finally inside it.

Technically.

“Let’s see what the pompous ass is hiding.”

Vox’s projection drifted forward, his half-corporal boots making no sound on the plush crimson carpet. His feet tangled in something on the floor—because he was still getting used to walking without feeling his footsteps—and because the place was a damn mess.

“So much for a fastidious freak.” Vox snickered to himself, only to hiss out more garbled curses as he reached out to a dresser drawer. His translucent cyan fingers passed through the handle once, twice, before he focused on solidifying just enough to grasp it.

Thinking he just might spare the projectionist demon who sold him this janky spell, Vox rummaged through the drawer. Looking for anything embarrassing—or juicy—to hold over Alastor’s head.

Instead, his hand closed around something small and rubbery.

Vox pulled out a bright yellow duck.

“What the hell…?” He muttered, in utter confusion, as he uncovered an entire collection of rubber duckies.

The TV demon let out a grunt of frustration, squeezing one of the blasted things in his fist, making his hologram flicker as the toy let out a shrill little squeak.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” A mocking lilt startled Vox, causing the duckie to go bouncing across the floor. It landed right at the high-heeled boots of the King of Hell himself.

Lucifer was leaning casually against the four-poster bedframe, arms folded, and a devilishly smug grin on his lips.

“Ah! Y-your Majesty!” Vox panicked, nearly backing into the dresser drawer he’d just opened. He’d been ready to kick some ass, now he had to prepare to kiss some.

Damn projectionist told him he was going to the room where Alastor spent the most time, not the archangel’s bedroom!

“An Overlord reduced to snooping through drawers?” Lucifer clicked his tongue, his smile nearly as sharp as Alastor’s. “My my hell really has gone downhill with you guys in charge.”

Vox felt his signal glitch with panic.

“Now, I know you’re not stupid enough to try to sabotage my daughter’s hotel with me in it, right?” Lucifer took a few steps forward, and Vox wished his hologram could just vanish into the wall, but he was stuck until the spell ended.

“No no no Your Highness, I’d never!” Vox said plaintiff, throwing a hands to play up his innocence. “I was just looking for Alastor, you know, old rivals. Messing with each other…ha ha.”

The truth sounded like a lame excuse when he was saying it to Lucifer.

“Trying to find him in my room is a little under the belt, don’t you think?”

“Below the belt…you mean?”

“What did I say?”

“You said this was your room, sire?” Vox demanded, his flat screen head snapping around. “Fucking projectionist piece of shit.”

The fallen angel’s yellow eyes narrowed on Vox’s form. “You’re using a projectionist, are ya?” Lucifer grinned. “Oh, that’s an old school trick—I with an old weakness.” The angel raised his hand, and snapped his fingers.

“Shit!”

Glowing golden ropes materialized, binding Vox’s projection from chest to ankles, before a flick of the blonde’s wrist sent him flying into the plush chair by the rumpled bed.

Vox thrashed against his restraints, his shape lagging and distorting where the binds held him. But even his real demonic body would be nothing against pure angelic power.

“Sir! I mean, I’m doing you a favor.” Vox protested, unable to help himself but trying to gab his way out. “The projectionist—he sent me where Alastor spends the most time in the hotel.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrows, his black lips suddenly pressed into a line—like a toddler with a secret. Vox was too busy pleading to notice. “You realize this means Alastor must have been spying on you, right? So so I’m letting you know! No need to get your feathers in a fluff!”

“I decide when to fluff myself!” Lucifer snapped back, before making a face. “That sounded wrong, didn’t it?”

Vox opened his mouth, only to have it filled with static.

“Yes, darling, it did.” When a shadow stepped up from the half-lit room.

“Well now, Vox. You’ve gotten yourself into quite a conundrum, haven’t you?” The radio demon’s eyes burned with amusement and his sharp grin grew impossibly wider as he took in the scene. “Delightful to see you stooped so low as to rifle through my rival’s chambers.”

“Hold the fuck up.” Vox’s screen flashed red. “You’re calling him your rival now?”

Alastor and Lucifer glanced at each other, the angel’s face giving away more than the radio demon’s ever-present grin.

Vox was too outraged to notice. “We’ve been at each other’s throats for fucking decades and suddenly this guy waltzes in!” He thrashed against his binds again. “And you’re making enemy goo-goo eyes at each other?!”

Alastor’s glee was practically luminescent. “My my, I did take you for the jealous type. But this, my good man, is a new low.” He leaned forward, arms folded neatly behind his back as the light of Vox’s screen glinted off teeth—and he twisted the knife in. “Though I hardly need to look to the king of hell to find a more interesting company than your static-filled nuisance.”

“You smug son of a—” Vox leaned against his restraint, ready to bash his monitor into Alastor’s face—when the radio demon was suddenly a safe distance away.

Lucifer stepped in front of Alastor and stuck a sharp heel squarely into the captive demon’s chest. The hologram flickered, but somehow held, tied in place by the divine rope lashed around him.

“Watch your tone, buddy boy.” Lucifer gave a contemptuous sneer, about as much as his diminutive form could manage.

“Now, now. Where are your manners, my friend?” Alastor chided, practically gleaming with sanctimoniousness. He loomed just behind the angel, his red-tipped fingers curling over Lucifer’s shoulders in a way that was almost…no, it couldn’t be. This was Alastor. And Vox knew damn well the radio demon didn’t invite contact.

“I do adore it when you are ruthless, Your Majesty.” Alastor’s voice had gone smooth, almost purring.

Vox’s screen flashed, like his circuits couldn’t compute an obvious flirtation from Alastor.

Even if Lucifer’s answering chuckle and the tilt of his head towards the smiling demon brought their faces closer than Vox had ever seen a living being get to his old nemesis. If they were still alive.

“Well now, Alastor, you old dog,” Vox taunted, seeing Alastor’s ears flick with irritation. “If I didn’t know ya better, I’d say ya needed the King of Hell to fight your battles for you now.”

The radio demon straightened up, stiff as a rod, and Vox knew he’d dug under Alastor’s skin. Lucifer bore his heel further into Vox’s chest. If this projected body could bleed, he might be already.

“As ever, Vox, I am more than capable of handling you myself.” His smile twitched. “But why get my hands dirty when I can watch the master at work?”

“He’s your master now, huh? Is the untouchable Alastor cozying up to the big boss down stairs?” Vox snapped.

Radio static burst through the room. Alastor answered to no one. And no one would imply otherwise. But, before he could put the demon in his place, the angel in front of him had to go blustering and bleeding heart.

“Listen here, you big piece of shit!” Lucifer glowered, his red pupils disappearing in a terrifying radiance. “Say anything like that again, and I will personally ensure that you spend the rest of eternity in Hell’s deepest, darkest, shittiest sewer. Got it flat face?”

The angel yanked the captive demon forward, until his projected form was glitching all out of shape. Lucifer, the sweet fool he was, looked up at the smiling demon like a cat that had presented him with a half-dead mouse.

Unfortunately, Alastor loved cats. And dying things.

He had to regain control somehow. And that meant reigning in the devil himself.

“You say the sweetest things when you’re threatening my enemies.” Alastor’s slender fingers gripped Lucifer’s face, curling deftly around the angel’s chin, and pulling the blonde’s gaze back to him.

It worked like a charm, perhaps too well.

Lucifer leaned into the touch, his cheeks impossibly redder, and his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opened them again, they were filled with an emotion that even Alastor could not be prepared for.

Leaving him unguarded for what happened next.

Lucifer, the sweet fool that he was, surged forward to kiss Alastor. Right in front of a gaping Vox.

The radio demon should be livid. He made it clear their personal lives were not for public consumption—in any form.

Only for the petite archangel to hold nothing back in his gaze every time their eyes met.

So, why was Alastor melting into the press of lips, regardless of who was watching?

A shiver ran down Alastor’s spine, taken in by the fierce protectiveness in that kiss. Misguided, clumsy, foolhardy, and vowed to shield him from harm with everything he had.

Which would be just lovely, if Alastor didn’t have to consider the crumbling reputation he’d just glued back together.

But, when his red eyes found Vox, already wearing a brilliant smile like he meant to expose this level of affection all along—he saw something he should have expected.

The television demon’s eyes widened in shock, circuits buzzing with disbelief. His screen went blank like he’d overload, until the color blocked test pattern displayed the words ‘please stand by.’ Like his entire system had to reboot.

He’d stunned the picture box—and that, the radio demon could work with.

“What the fuck, Alastor?” Vox crackled, outrage written over his features. “You don’t like being touched! Isn’t that your whole damn shtick?”

Crimson eyes slid to Vox with barely concealed loathing. Alastor tutted, lips curling in a mocking sneer. Soaking in that glorious, irrational, jealousy.

“Oh, I don’t.” Alastor said simply, turning a softer smile to Lucifer, knowing the Overlord was watching with wrapt attention. “Not by just anyone, and particularly not by you, Vox.”

Vox’s screen fritzed again, eyes flashing with fury.

“Oh-ho, I know that green-eyed monster when I see it~” Lucifer taunted in a sing-song voice. His hand tightened around Alastor’s waist.

“This all started with your silly little obsession, did it not?” Alastor mused with a dark chuckle. And the radio demon, utterly amused with this revelation from his rival, leaned in to the assumption. “When did you realize your propositions to have me on your team turned into utterly pathetic advances?”

“Cocky fucking bastard!” Vox’s voice distorted and crackled. “Don’t act so high and mighty! You just found a higher power to whore yourself out to!” The Vox hologram rocked violently against its bindings, wild with jealous rage, somehow even more deranged and unhinged without a corporeal form to ground it.

Static burst throughout the room, lights flickering and shadows distorting. As Alastor’s smile stayed perfectly in place.

The radio demon leaned forward, teeth glinting with pure malice as he tapped his microphone against Vox’s screen, making the cyan distortion appear again.

“If you think it wise to spread gossip about me, by way of blackmailing Our King…on your head, be it.” He said in a sadistic purr. “No one will believe a thing you saw here.”

Over his shoulder, he felt his shadows banished. Lucifer had his back with a flash of divine light and power.

And nothing felt better than rubbing salt into Vox’s wounded ego.

Alastor reached out a clawed hand, pressing the tip of a nail into the hologram’s chest. The projection wavered and warped under his touch, but still provided a just hint of resistance.

“Then again, this isn’t really you, is it?”

He felt Lucifer’s hand tighten at his waist. “It’s a hell projection dear, “ he explained, his voice amused. “Meant to torture sinners by allowing them to touch, but never be touched in return.”

“Oh.” Alastor’s ears perked up. “How inspiringly cruel.”

He straightened up, shooting Lucifer a wicked smile, before he grabbed the shorter man by the lapels, and shoved the angel back into Vox’s lap.

Both men appeared completely taken aback.

Vox’s screen glitched between showing his two-dimensional eyes wide with excitement and indignation.

“Al, you sure about this?” Lucifer’s face was painted with the same shock, but with a bit of delight curling his lips. Wondering if the radio demon was serious.

Alastor caught his eye with a smirk. His long nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons, revealing the scarlet dress shirt and black suspenders underneath—shedding his coat entirely and tossing it onto the bed.

Vox had never seen Alastor in a scrap less of clothing before, and those slim shoulders and narrow waist made something hot and hungry twist in his gut.

Lucifer was already reaching for the demon, knowing this was the signal that his partner wanted to be handled.

Alastor moved to straddle the King of Hell with his long legs, caging his rival overlord as well, while he captured the angel’s mouth in a searing kiss.

Lucifer groaned against his lips.

“I can still fucking see you sick perverts!” Vox snarled, face burning with humiliated fury.

Vox was having a conniption. Since when did Alastor let anyone touch him, let alone paw at him and his immaculate clothes? But here the radio demon was, sitting astride Lucifer’s lap, and kissing him like he wanted to devour him.

Alastor tsked, wagging a chiding finger as he nuzzled against Lucifer’s cheek with a rumbling purr.

Vox watched Lucifer’s hand slide down the demon’s waist, gripping his hips to pull him in even closer.

Alastor’s low chuckle met the gesture, that clawed hand grabbing the chair behind the other demon’s head. As he lifted his hips and rolled them against Lucifer’s.

Through his eyelids, Alastor could see Vox’s screen flashing and flickering, a sound of disgust—and abject envy hitting the deer demon’s ears.

Though his delight at Vox’s outrage was shriveling in comparison to the familiar delight of Lucifer’s hands on him. He’d never wanted for touch, never felt so starved without it, until the first time he’d felt the angel’s lips on his own. Now, he was always famished.

“Get off me, you sick fucks!” Vox snarled, struggling against his bonds as he tried to buck them off.

With a sharp intake of breath, Lucifer pulled away from the kiss. A sly grin played on his lips as he cast a fleeting glance at the flat screen mounted behind him. “Voxy might not really be here.” he purred, his hands sliding up along Alastor’s torso, hooking into the black suspenders he wore, and the demon let himself be pulled forward. Just to see the TV glitch. “But I can feel him getting hard.”

The television behind Lucifer flashed a brilliant, blushing red and Alastor laughed at this tantalizing little tidbit.

He leaned in, his forehead pressed to the angel’s as he murmured. “What a shame I cannot be recorded…” he taunted, his lips drawn over the angels with pure want and sweetness that he gave to no one else. “I suppose you shall have to commit it to memory.”

“Fuck you both,” Vox growled, his projection flickering with impotent rage. Practically frothing at the mouth. Because beneath the anger and the jealousy—was the shameful desire. The longing to be touched and wanted by Alastor the way Lucifer was.

“Oh, you wish chatter box.” The angel snorted, only to have the radio demon’s claws pull his attention back.

“No, I—” Vox couldn’t even get the protest out of his mouth. It was…he couldn’t be jealous of Lucifer? Or Alastor…Or…both.

He didn’t know anymore, and that was the greatest torture of all.

The two seemed too lost in each other to give much of a damn about him.

“Darling~” Alastor purred, moving to stand with as much grace as he could manage in this state. Causing two breaths to hitch. “I think…we need some privacy. Don’t you?”

“Mm, couldn’t agree more.” Lucifer’s eyes sparkled as he stood and ran his hands up Alastor’s chest, finding his tie and undoing it with deft fingers. Before pulling his collar to bring him back nose to nose. “I want you all to myself.”

A full-body shudder rippled through the lean demon at the intimate words and touch. They’d been playing a game of teasing, hardly doing anything more heavy than petting—but it seemed Lucifer was ready for more than just a little light handling.

The angel’s fingers slipped into Alastor’s hair, tilting his head back and leaving a searing trail down his neck, popping open the collar of his shirt in his wake.

Exposing more of his skin than Alastor intended.

“P-Perhaps we shouldn’t give our...captive audience too much of a peep show,” Alastor managed, static crackling around the words.

Lucifer pulled back, reading something through Alastor’s stiff smile. “Oh, Al—!”

The demon pressed his pointed fingers to the angel’s lips, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Clumsy as ever, but affectionately honest. And Alastor wanted to kiss the apology off of his lips.

“You can’t just leave me here!” Vox’s screen flickered and glitched, his useless hands clenching at his side. “While you go off and—”

Vox couldn’t even finish the thought, his mind rebelling at the images that flashed before his eyes. Alastor and Lucifer, tangled together in the sheets, their bodies moving as one. Alastor’s head thrown back in ecstasy, Lucifer’s name falling from his lips like a prayer.

The real men in front of them were leaning into each other again, like they couldn’t surface from each other long enough to care that Vox was here.

Alastor nipped at Lucifer’s ear, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur only they could hear. A thrilled laugh spilled from the fallen angel at whatever filthy suggestion was offered.

“You’re a singularly wicked thing,” he praised, squeezing Alastor’s hip meaningfully. “Wouldn’t dream of denying you.”

With a casual flick of one hand, the glowing angelic bindings holding Vox constricted suddenly, forcing his projection into an awkward, hunched position on the chair.

Alastor smirked at the muffled noise of frustration.

Alastor sauntered over to where Vox’s bound projection fought against its ethereal bonds. He tsked in mock disappointment, crouching down to meet those twinkling electronic eyes, seeing how they darted to the open collar of his shirt.

And how the rope criss-crossed his screen, gagging Vox at last.

“Such unbecoming behavior from an esteemed colleague,” he chided, all velvet and menace. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised—you were always dreadfully uncouth.”

Vox’s screen flashed furiously, the test pattern barely holding. Alastor watched the frantic display with undisguised relish.

“No witty comebacks? No desperate pleas?” He feigned a pout. “Disappointing. Then again, you always are.”

Straightening, Alastor’s microphone staff materialized in one hand with a crackle of static. He gave it an experimental twirl, grinning madly.

“It’s just a shame you won’t be able to feel yourself burning in the lake of fire.” With an oddly graceful sweep of the staff, a swirling vortex sparked to life at their feet—a hellish portal yawning open. Searing brimstone fumes billowed forth, carrying the roar of raging flames.

“Do enjoy the sight of your flesh melting though, ta-ta!” Alastor gave a teasing wave as Vox’s projection was lashed with his shadow tentacles, and dragged into the fiery pit itself.

Lucifer watched the whole display with rapt amusement from the bed, crimson eyes glittering. As Alastor turned back towards him, snapping away the vortex with a casual flick, the fallen angel reclined with unabashed hunger written across his handsome features.

“I do love it when you do you evil, Al.” The angel grinned, popping onto his boots. “It’s hot as hell.”

Alastor rolled his eyes at the terrible pun, but couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him. The man wore his heart on his sleeve to an embarrassing extent.

What made Alastor find it so inexplicably pleasing?

“Then you must be perpetually hot and bothered. Sounds like a terrible state of affairs to be in.”

“Not one you can relate to, huh?” Lucifer grinned, wrapping his arms around Alastor’s tapered waist.

The taller demon ducked, smirking only broader when he stayed just out of the reach of the Lucifer’s lips, to the King’s visible frustration.

“I may relate, as of late.”

That was all the shorter man needed to reach up and grab Alastor in for another kiss.

“I can help with that.” Lucifer offered sweetly, pointed fingers curling into the radio demon’s hair to demand a deeper kiss.

Lucifer, with a level of gracelessness that was miraculous for an angel, pushed Alastor back onto his rumpled bed.

The slender radio demon's body relaxed into the mattress, his long legs splayed indignantly—so he thought. Though there was no hint of mirth in his lover’s yellow eyes.

Lucifer was already on top of him, forked tongue sliding past his lips with desperate need.

Alastor felt Lucifer's sharp teeth glided along his jaw, marking a trail of small kisses down his length of neck.“Impatient, are we?” Alastor attempted a tease, but his ever-practiced voice faulter under the angel’s undaunted enthusiasm.

“Oh, honey. I know how getting one over on someone gets you going.” He lifted his head, only to waggle those damn eyebrows. “Do you want me to slow down?”

Lesiurely, Lucifer made a scorching path down the demon’s chest and torso, pushing apart his blood red shirt inch by inch.

“Fuck you.” Alastor gripped at his golden blonde hair, trying to shove his head down further.

Lucifer resisted the force like a tiger swatted by a house cat—sending another thrill down the demon’s spine.

The angel was pausing to swirl his tongue into the grooved indents of lean muscle and hipbones. Lucifer’s clever mouth worked lower still—until finally he freed Alastor’s hard cock and enveloped him in the welcoming heat of the angel’s mouth.

The radio demon arched up from the bed with a strangled cry of static, clawing at the crimson sheets as Lucifer’s mischievous skills swiftly robbed him of breath and higher cognition. Alastor’s legs fell open wider as debauched sounds hissed from between his teeth.

Lucifer hummed his approval around his mouthful, that damned tongue of his flicking ceaslessly as he sucked Alastor down.

The demon was already trembling under him. Too damn easily.

Only when Alastor’s sounds reached a true crescendo of desperation did Lucifer finally pull back with a filthy pop.

“My, my...it seems the great Alastor turns quite tame with just a little bit of attention,” Lucifer purred, sinuously licking his lips clean.

“Consider yourself fortunate that pride flatters you, darling.” Alastor snarled hoarsely, eyes burning crimson and fangs bared as radio noise crackled around him.

With a snap of Alastor fingers, their clothes vanished, only to appear folded neatly on the nearby chair.

Lucifer quirked a brow as Alastor reached down to hastily prep himself. The radio demon’s long fingers deftly worked, slicking himself with conjured lubricant.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Alastor growled out the demand.

Lucifer’s grin stretched wider, all too eager to oblige.

He surged up to capture that snarling mouth in a hungry, devouring kiss. Pinning Alastor’s wiry body back against the bed, careful to align perfectly with the demon’s entrance—before snapping forward in a brutal thrust.

Alastor threw his head back with a guttural groan of blissful torment.

Static discharged in a blistering wave, scattering signals and causing lights to flicker in their room. The radio demon’s slender fingers scrabbled for purchase, digging into Lucifer’s back as his legs wrapped vice-tight around the angel’s powerful body.

Lucifer leaned in close, to the constant rumble coming from the demon’s stretched lips.

“Growl for me all you like, my dear,” he purred darkly. “I know exactly what you need.”

Lucifer set a punishing pace—plunging into Alastor’s willing warmth over and over.

The demon keened brazenly beneath him. Clinging with a desperation that belied centuries of scheming and solitude, finally crumbling to primal need.

Their power swirled and clashed in wild waves.

Alastor’s shadows swirled and snarled, his eyes burning bright in the room's dark as he fought to keep them open, his teeth gnashed together.

Lucifer’s vast angelic grace responded—six resplendent wings unfurling in stark juxtaposition—keeping Alastor’s demonic power in eclipsed beneath him.

The angel groaned deep in his chest at that exquisite sight his tightly buttoned partner made when he finaly let go. He drank it in with reverence.

And that undeniable dominant power shattered the last strand of Alastor’s restraint.

He came with a harsh cry, clenching to the angel’s cock as he came. Making a mess of them both, knowing that was exactly what Lucifer wanted before he was spent inside Alastor.

Lucifer panted harshly, sweat beading his brow as the pleasure rolled through him.

For long moments, they simply clung together, chests heaving and hearts pounding violently.

Lucifer nuzzled into the crook of Alastor’s neck, relishing their closeness, the scent and taste of his lover’s bliss. He felt utterly sated, lethargic in the most delicious way.

Alastor panted still, almost silently, arm thrown over his face as he attempted to compose himself. Hiding his mouth as he drew ragged breaths.

But when at last Lucifer made to pull away, shadowy tendrils lashed around his waist, refusing to let him go.

Alastor whimpered faintly as he drew the fallen angel back down atop him, long limbs winding around Lucifer to keep him nestled close.

The blonde chuckled, the sound warm with fond amusement as he happily settled in the circle of Alastor’s embrace.

Trailing reverent touches along those deceptively delicate features, he murmured, “My sweet little deer demon...”

A ragged growl vibrated low in Alastor’s chest at the endearment. But there was no real threat behind it as he clung to Lucifer—soaking up every caress, every brush of affection in still, sated bliss.

When Lucifer’s fingers carded through his disheveled hair, he even leaned subtly into the intimate touch like a cat being stroked.

“Hush now,” Lucifer purred, placing a soft kiss to Alastor’s brow. “Let me take care of you...”

Alastor’s only response was a halfhearted grumble as he tucked his face into the curve of Lucifer’s neck, content to let the former archangel dote on him.

Just for now.