Vox X Reader - Tumblr Posts

That hc you made a while back about mirror sex with Vox has not left my brain. Can we get some top Vox fucking into reader in front of a mirror?

The Person In The Mirror : Vox x reader smut

A/N Any Naethen Apollo fans here? 🫡

Wav writing domtop Vox twice in a row 🤨 Likelier than you'd think (Next req is domtop Vox as well actually lmao)

Cw: NSFW/18+, gn!reader, mirror sex obv, domtop Vox/bottom reader, humiliation/degradation, light pain play, sadism

- There is not much that Vox would enjoy more than the filthiest mirror sex on the planet with his partner where he's in control.

- Vox's go-to position for mirror sex where he's top would undeniably be something where he could see everything.

- He'd be fucking into you while you're in his lap, facing you towards the mirror with both of his claws gripping hard into your thighs and spreading them wide open so he could see his dick pumping in and out of you again and again.

- You'd be second fiddle for being watched because it would just be this asshole watching himself more than you through everything, or at least most of it.

- Vox's eyes would be fixated on himself as if mesmerised.

- Dominating you roughly would drive him absolutely crazy on a normal day, but actually getting to watch himself as he does it does things to him.

- Just being some random sex friend or one night stand doing this would absolutely suck because the chances you actually get off in that situation are pretty low.

- He would be entirely self-focused and would be fucking you with absolute abandon as he chases his own release, rutting and panting as he stares into his own eyes with a drooling grin.

- If you are his S/O and he actually cares to look to you during it, he would focus on trying to get you there too however.

- As his S/O, I hope you're ready to receive an utterly dizzying mixture of possessive degradation and praise in that position.

- He'd take one hand off of your thigh, revealing brusies and indents from where his claws have been kissing your skin roughly, to scrape over your scalp before grabbing your hair hard to pull your head back and growl into your ear.

- Calling you his, telling you how filthy you are for taking him like this, praising you for how good you feel around him. Calling you his doll and meaning it.

- Whatever pulls humiliated whines from you, he would be saying it.

- He would be making you kiss him open-mouthed and messily, wrapping his tongue around yours as he urges your own to do the same with no form of shame at all.

- He'd force you to look ahead at yourself in the mirror while you came, telling you what a beautiful fucked out mess you were for him, running his tongue up your neck as he feels you clench down onto him with even more pleasurable tightness then you had been throughout.

- When he orgasms inside of you, he'd keep you in that same position for bit just so he can watch his come slowly drip out of you and onto the sheets below with a breathy laugh.

- Afterwards, you would be cared for, but you'll be feeling the aftermath of it that's for damn sure.

- He would love to see you struggling to walk properly afterwards too.

- He'd likely treat you like you're annoying for 'making him help you', but he would be going wild internally about it. He'd like to act like you're so dependant and needy for him that you're unable to be without him.

Him being the sadistic cunt he is 💀

Bro even if he was significantly changed for the better this situation would bring the absolute worst out of him imo.

Feeding the bottoms omfg

Masterlist

hrr okay so request! may you please write some vox x reader smut? maybe its readers first time and she's hella nervous and mr egotistical has no idea how to comfort her abt it since he's usually oh so rough but he tries being softer just for her?? i love vox so much im insane but TYYYY!!!!

»»------► 𝙰 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚎 (18+)

Pairing: 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Word Count: 𝟷.𝟿𝚔

Warnings: 𝙵/𝙼 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛

A/N: 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚎… 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚊𝚜𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾 𝚒'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍; 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚎

The last thing you were expecting after dying was being dragged down into the pits of a reddish hell. You were practically America’s sweetheart for crying out loud, you were the star of the late 1950s; always nice to your fans, and not to mention that you had raised and donated millions to charities across the world with your wealth.

Why the fuck were you in hell?

Storming down the street, you pushed over some slimy looking man as he walked a bit too close to you. “Move it, jackass.”

You really had no clue why you were brought here.

But you weren’t about to let that ruin what you had. Sure, you were dead; but you were still living. You would just build yourself up again.

And you did.

It took barely a month before you became the talk of hell, but it wasn't good enough for you. You craved for more power, craved to see yourself plastered over every building, poster and billboard.

So when an upcoming overload that had control over the majority of the media output in hell who called himself Vox came seeking you out; he offered you a deal that you couldn’t refuse. 

He would give you the fame you desired until the end of time, and in return, he wanted your absolute loyalty; your body, your love, and your life.

You signed instantly.

After your contract was set in stone, you found that Vox had enacted his side of the deal pretty much overnight. You remember the day vividly; your face on the cover of everything, letting all the vermin sinners bask in your lovely existence, and to know of your arrival in hell. From then on, you were back to your high celebrity status that you had attained whilst you were alive. 

At first, all Vox made you do was go on dates with him; which was an assortment of him taking you to restaurants, clubs, or his penthouse, which was something you found yourself enjoying more than you thought you would. But as time passed, he began growing more confident in asking for you to hug him, to kiss him.

One night, he had asked you to come to his penthouse, and as you sat in his lap, laughing whilst he took a shot from in between the junction of your breasts, he confessed that he had a thing for you whilst he was alive.

“Oh, so you no longer have feelings for me, Vox?” You whispered into his screen as he leaned back into the loveseat.

The light that emitted off his face only flooded itself with a hint of luscious pink as he huffed out, closing his eyes before opening his mouth. “You know I still have a thing for you. It’s why you’re currently sat in my lap.”

Giggling, you pushed yourself against him, walking the tips of your nails against his screen. “I know, but I want to hear you say it; properly.”

As he looked at you with his glowing eyes, he placed a hand around the fat of your hip. “I’ll tell you, on one condition.”

“Do tell?” You asked whilst leaning your cheek against him, stroking shapes into his chest.

You could feel his chest rumble before he spoke. “You let me fuck you.”

Instantly you stilled upwards, sitting back to look at him. He didn’t like how your body had left his; didn’t like how you looked almost disgusted as the words left his mouth.

“Look, Vox,” You began, your hands gesturing as you spoke. “I like you, don’t get me wrong, but I promised myself never to fuck someone who I worked with or for.” You confessed; but with the alcohol in your body, you said more than you had meant to. “I’m still a virgin for fuck sakes, I can’t-”

Freezing up, you realised what you had said. The alcohol in your body seemed to sober up as the shock of realisation settled in.

Why did you have to admit that to the man who practically owned you?

Vox could only look at you in disbelief. He had read and heard so many scandals about you fucking your way into stardom when you were both alive; but despite that, he knew you were telling the truth. Placing a hand on your thigh, his sharp tips caressed you. “You don’t work with or for me though, sweetheart.” His teeth showed with his growing smirk. “I own you.”

As you looked down at him, you couldn’t deny the connection you had built with him. You did like him; moreso, you liked what he could offer you, you liked the power he held, and despite his nonhuman face, you did find yourself finding him quite the looker.

Despite all the suitors you had attained in your living life, you had never found someone attractive enough to stand by your side. Leave it to you to find the fucker with a television for a head be the first guy you actually liked.

Ridiculous.

You were already dead, you may as well find out what the fuss about sex was.

You would give him your virginity.

“Fine. But you better fuck me how I tell you to fuck me.” You spat at him before you smashed your face into his, kissing his strange face that could weirdly produce a 3D touchable projection of a tongue that was so wet. Grabbing the sides of his screen, Vox could only groan as he found the entire interaction the hottest thing he had ever witnessed. 

He couldn’t believe he was about to fuck the woman who he had wanked off to throughout his years alive.

Despite his usual roughness during sex; craving control over his sexual partners, he would, for you only, allow you to dictate his pace. 

You pulled away from the heated kiss before standing up; Vox reaching for you as you stood, but halting once you began to slip the dress off of your body. As it dropped to your ankles, you stepped out of it confidently, basking in your own ego as Vox seemed absolutely starstruck as he gazed over every crevice of your body.

Looking up at you, his dead heart pumped all the blood from his body into his cock as he watched you place your hands on your knees, squeezing your breasts together as you leaned toward him. “You wanna fuck me, Vox?” For the first time in his life, Vox’s eyes blew out as he found himself lost for words.

How the fuck had you managed to make him so nervous? You were the virgin; not him.

As he nodded slowly, allowing red pixelated drool to seep from the rim of his screened lips, you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over him to make sure all he could see was you. “Then you better put me somewhere more appropriate; this is no place for a lady to lose her virginity after all, is it?” You whispered in his face.

With a newfound confidence, Vox stood up before pushing you back slightly, grabbing the thick of your thighs before you could actually fall; forcing you to jump up and wrap your legs around the small of his waist. As he carried you towards the bed across the room, he shoved his tongue down your throat, drinking up the wetness of your mouth as your sharp teeth prodded his tongue throughout the kiss.

You had expected Vox to be a tad rougher considering who he was, you knew he enjoyed being rough, so when he gently laid you down on the bed, you were surprised. Leaning over your figure, he began to undress himself, grinning cockily when he slapped the tip of his sex against your thigh. “This appropriate enough for you, sweetheart?” He mumbled as his fingers grazed over the slit of your heated core.

Hissing in pleasure, you glared at him. “You better be gentle, or I'll crack that stupidly handsome face of yours.” You cried out as he plunged a finger inside of you.

You were not expecting it to feel so good already.

His smile only covered almost the entirety of his screen as the red drool only became more prominent; you thought he was handsome?. “Sweetheart, you can threaten me all you want but we both know you’re at my mercy.” He added another finger into your wet sex, making you moan ever so slightly. “But because it’s you, I’ll do whatever you fucking want.”

You could only sigh as his fingers pulled away, only to be replaced by his cock as the tip teased your entrance. You closed your eyes as a slight stinging sensation began to flourish where he was slightly prodding into you. 

Gripping onto his arms to ground yourself, he kissed you with a softness you weren’t used to from him; he was always rough whenever he had kissed you before; this contrast was very welcome. 

It made you feel powerful as he executed your demand of gentleness.

Whining into the kiss, he slowly forced his way into you, scorching your core with a pain you weren’t expecting. “You need me to stop?” He whispered as he felt your face contort into discomfort. Looking into his glowing eyes, you felt your heart race as you felt his cock halfway inside of you. Shaking your head, you asked him to continue before you let him devour your mouth with his tongue once more.

As he slowly forced the rest of his cock inside of you, you felt drops of sweat begin to form on your forehead from the pain. But as he pulled back, fucking into you at a slow pace, the pain began subsiding for pleasure, and you naturally became more receptive to Vox’s kisses and thrusts; meeting him halfway as you began to lift your hips up to meet his.

You could only start babbling his name along with loud moans as the pain fully disappeared; only pleasure deriving from his cock pulsing and pushing inside your cunt. Gripping his screen, you gritted your teeth in strange pleasure as one of his corded wires began sending electrical shocks into your clit.

“You’re so beautiful, but you know that don’t you?” Vox moaned as his thrusts began to become more rough as he started to feel his balls tighten, indicating his orgasm was soon approaching. As you nodded your head, he watched your body move up and down on the bed as he fucked you. He was going to cum into your cunt. He could feel it edging slowly; so he made the electrical shocks more intense on your clit to force you into your own orgasm.

Screams of pleasure were all he could hear from your lips as he could feel the electrical pulse from his wires press into your clit. Gripping your hips, he rammed himself into you at a pace you weren’t expecting, your eyes rolled up as your thighs began to shake uncontrollably; your mouth stuck in a gasp as you felt yourself cum on Vox’s throbbing cock.

Letting out his own groan, Vox finally allowed the tightening of his balls to release as his orgasm shot into the walls of your slick heat, sinking his claws into your hips as his screen glitched through the ordeal.

As he came down from the high, he looked down into your after glowed face, basking in how you looked even more beautiful than you ever had before. 

He couldn’t deny that he felt something a bit more than just a crush in that moment.

“I have more than just a thing for you.” Was all he whispered.

ok hear me out...vox chastity cage.

Like.....idk just teasing him for days and he can't do ANYTHING about it, he can't even get hard correctly. It starts to get obvious just in everyday tasks that he's extremely frustrated and jumps when anyone touches him at all like on the shoulder because he is ACHING for some kind of touch. All he gets is ruined orgasms and he's got his face in his hands glitching tf out because he NEEDS to be inside you SO BAD he can hardly stand it. After it's unlocked he's full subby top vox all he can do is sloppy erratic thrusts thanking you and begging you to put your hands on him everywhere. He cums so hard he just gets knocked tf out you have to push him off you mans is SPENT.

Anyway. 🫠

GOOD MORNING TUMBLR!!

waking up to subby top Vox because that’s pretty swell if I do say so myself.

So this punishment would absolutely kill him because he would be so needy to entire week, and in attempt to cover this up at work he has to play his ‘respected CEO’ part, he would just be so aggressive to everyone. Like he would loose his shit so fast.

Oh my god, and maybe you see this and tell him to keep it on tomorrow too because he’s being bad. Like imagine extending this for like an entire fucking five day work week. He’s so whiny in everyday conversation with you because he just can’t stop thinking about the moment you actually touch him again and make him feel good.

He’d absolutely beg you, already glitching out and with tears in his eyes, by the end of the week to just touch him. And so finally, you unlock it and let him climb on top of you, burrying his screen in the crook of your neck (it’s very uncomfortable for you but you’ll live) and he just pathetically ruts into you. And he’s still whining “Touch me, please” “Tell me i’m doing good” “Thank you, oh god, thank you.” Hes basically just babbling your title and sloppily thrusting into you. Finally, you put your hands on his hips to steady his pace and call him your good boy for being so patient. He’s literally already super close, and you can tell because his body starts to shake on top of you. But you keep going, telling him “My perfect boy, taking your punishment so well.” and other sweet praises.

But finally, well actually very prematurely, he cums and just collapses on top of you, softly whining while still inside you, but his system ends up just shutting off. Like he’s completely out while you clean him up.

Anyways, good morning tumblr.

Was alone with my thoughts again so here we go bc yes; -•-

I feel like sometimes Vox gets too into his charming CEO facade and accidentally flirt with a few people. It’s not intentional! It’s just what he’s been used to slipping into when making deals—either for new souls or business deals. He thought he was careful when he entered into a relationship with reader but sometimes it just slips out, yknow?

Oh that won’t do at all. So as punishment reader jerks him off, keeping the personalized cock ring on him until he’s got tears spilling down is screen. The position is kinda awkward, him laying on readers chest while they sit behind him, reaching around him to jerk the subby man off. Great so not only can Vox not cum but he can’t even look at reader. Because of his head he can’t even turn around/angle his head to get a glimpse of reader. He just watches through little tears as a hand jerks his throbbing and aching erection.

He’d be whimpering out “sorry” and “mommy” in between his pleas for the ring to be removed.

Once it does get removed though—oh satan. Vox thinks readers forgiven him and starts whimpering “thank you mommy” but then as moments go by he realizes he’s not forgiven and this is just more punishment as he’s brought further and further into overstimulation.

He’s begging for a break, or for reader to stop hiding and using their hand. To please use their mouth on him or their body to keep his sore erection warm.

-•-

I could keep going but I don’t wanna go on for too long but yeah LMAOO Kay that’s what I got to share for now ✌️ just thought I’d offer some jealous reader punishing a flirty Vox

posting this because sometimes you people are absolutely genius. I have literally nothing to hide this is just so fujfjdjdjdjjdjd oh my fucking god. i’d give my soul to have asks like this in my inbox every night. I love this 😭🙏

Shut Up | V.

summary: You aren’t officially apart of the Vees, but dating Vox merely intensifies what the rest of the sinners, and his business partners, believe.

pairing: Vox x overlord!reader

includes: smut: exhibitionism, masochism, degradation, fluff, Valentino being weird, talks about death, talks about porn (that’s all, let me know if I missed any!)

a/n: this is my first time writing a one-shot like this which was really interesting to write 🤷‍♀️ we’ll see how this goes

You were never openly advertised to be a part of the Vees. You just happened to be there for almost all of their businesses and deals. Sure, you did live in the same building as them and work alongside them, but there was never an official declaration of you joining the Vees. There were two reasons you were protected against all the sinners who wondered why you were always in the public eye with them.

One, you were a quiet overlord. And two, you were dating the company’s forefront boss: Vox, the technological demon.

Though you kept all your soul deals hushed from the public, all the sinners knew what you were capable of, staying clear of your path. It just so happened that Vox was able to snag you for himself, being the only one to truly enjoy you as yourself, despite Velvette and Valentino also witnessing each interaction.

“What’s on your schedule today?” Vox sipped on his black coffee, adjusting you in his lap.

You tap away on your phone as you take a small drink from his cup. “Uh, I think I have a meeting with Diane about the money she owes me. Then Velvette needs to steal me to model some clothes for her new line.”

He hummed, eyes flickering across the different monitors in his room. “Is that all?”

Nodding, you shut your phone off and smiled prettily up at him, pearly whites on display. “Why? Want me all to yourself?” You shift in his lap, straddling him instead.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to such things.” He trailed a claw up your arm. “Sadly, I have meetings upon meetings today.”

“Boo.” You kiss the corner of his screen, feeling soft static on your lips. He squeezes your waist as you move off of him, “Text me if you need to reach me.”

“I always do.” He pressed a kiss to your hand. “Love you.”

“Love you more.” You snap your fingers, appearing in front of your favorite sinner’s house. “Diane, here I come.” You mutter as the dirt and blood from the ground accumulate on your heels.

The meeting with Diane was short and sweet, only taking twenty minutes to collect your money from her. In fact, you had more time to visit the rest of your souls before heading to the Vee tower. To be fair, most sinners you dealt with either died from exterminations or died from your own hands, not being able to pay their debt. It was nice to have a soul who was willing to commit to your every beck and call.

“Babes, focus.” Velvette snapped her fingers in front of you, changing your outfit. “What do you think about this one?”

Your hands come down to your waist, glancing in the mirror. “It’s alright. The puffy sleeves are a no-go though.” You watch as she jots down your notes, muttering to herself about stupid sleeves before snapping another pair of clothes on you. “How many outfits did you create for this new line?”

“About thirty or so, I can’t really keep track.” Velvette circled to your front, tilting her head at the color. “This color doesn’t necessarily represent me, no?”

You shake your head, “It’s more… more angelic than Velvette.”

“Right, thank you.” She flicks her wrist, changing the color to match her brand. “You know, Voxy wouldn’t stop groaning about you being busy all day.” You raise a brow at her words, letting her switch your outfit again. “He was all pissy when Val said he’d try to recruit you to be in one of his films again. Val almost lost a wing during that meeting, it was hilarious.”

“I’d rather work for you than Val.” You grimace at the thought. Since landing in Hell, the only person you had gotten intimate with was Vox. You would rather die with Carmine weapons than star in one of his adult films. “Do you know when Vox’s meetings are done?”

“Do I look like his fucking assistant?” She flicked her hair back as she looked at you with an unimpressed expression. “He’s your boy toy.”

“Fuck off.” You flip her off and pull your phone out, sending a quick message to Vox, to which he responds with a Facetime call.

“What’s wrong?” His eye twitched as if he were to murder a low-life sinner. “Who hurt you?”

“No one?” You furrow your brows but roll your eyes when Velvette snickers from behind you. “I was just going to ask when your last meeting is.”

“Just ended.” He let out a breath, squinting his eyes when you flip the camera to show the shorter overlord. “Velvette, don’t overwork her.”

“She’s standing here pretty, asshole.” She scoffed at him. “You’re free to visit while I finish up.”

“Let’s just do a movie night in our penthouse.” You toss up, earning groans from both overlords. “Fine, screw you too.”

“I love you, but I can’t do another movie night where we watch Val’s porn films starring him.” Velvette rubbed her forehead at the thought. The thought alone sends shivers down your spine. “Anyone but Val can pick the movie.”

“I’ll pick it since you all want to be babies about it.” You sigh as she snaps your original clothes back on. “Someone tell Valentino.”

“Already sent a message.” Vox locked eyes with you through the screen. “I’ll see you both in a bit.”

“Bye, handsome.” You sent kisses toward him. You hummed to yourself as you hopped off the platform Velvette placed you on.

“How? Why?” Velvette shook her head at you. “I don’t get it, not at all. You two are so fucking disgusting.”

That wasn’t the first time she said that either. Or Valentino. They eventually just learned to live with you two after they once walked in on you and Vox in his monitor room… Not a fun surprise. Especially when Valentino wanted to record. Velvette learned to knock for once but still found all your lovey-dovey couple shit disgusting. However, it did boost her business when you both went out with matching outfits made by her.

“Mm, Vox—!” You giggle against his lips as your hands find his shoulders to balance you. “They’ll be here any minute.”

“They both have enough common sense to knock.” He kicked your legs apart. “I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.”

You shift under him, holding in soft moans from his actions. “Vox…”

“Hm?” He shot a small shock through his finger, causing you to let out a moan. “You once hated those.”

“Shut up.” You grabbed his sweater vest and pulled him in. That was about how far you got until Valentino barged inside with Velvette trailing behind. “Oh, fuck me…”

“Maybe later.” Vox teased, pulling you up from the couch. He flattened out your bunched-up skirt and his vest, giving an agitated smile toward his business partners. “I thought you two learned to knock?”

“Why? Busy fucking?” Valentino maliciously grinned at you, making you shift uncomfortably. “I’m sure you two would—“

“Alright, what movie are we watching bitches?” Velvette plopped herself down on an armchair, letting her legs rest on the armpiece.

Vox muttered out words of murder toward Valentino, pulling you down to sit on his lap to hide his previous hard-on. You lock a hand with him, feeling him rub your palm as the movie starts. And the movie seemed to be more of a success than the last one as Valentino and Velvette’s eyes were immediately glued to the screen. But Vox kept all his attention on you, letting his hands wander across your body.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, grabbing his wrist as it starts trailing up your thigh. “Vox…”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “Yeah?”

“We can’t…”

“They’re not even paying attention to us, gorgeous.” His screen dimmed and red streaks appeared.

You roll your eyes but steal the blanket from behind you, draping it over the both of you. “Happy?”

“Very.” His voice was much lower, as he immediately attached himself to your shoulder.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that one of them noticed. Sadly, it was Velvette who noticed, meaning there was a much bigger scene being created than the one playing on the television.

“Are you guys seriously fucking right now?” She made a face of disgust, watching you being unable to respond to her.

“Shut up, don’t talk to us.” Vox let out a quiet grunt as you buried your head into his collarbone.

“Vox.” You mumble as a warning as the coil inside you tightens.

He held you closer as you gasped, “Fuck, I got you.”

“I’m out! I’m leaving, I’ll see you all tomorrow when you’re both decent.” Velvette left, dragging Valentino with her when he brought his phone out to record.

“Vox!” He flipped you to lay on the couch the second the elevator door shut, overstimulating your abused parts.

“Such a fucking slut for cock.” He pinched your waist as his hips stuttered. “Fuck, come with me.” You let out a guttural moan as your coil snapped for the third time, grabbing onto him as he finished, feeling him rest his head on your chest. “That was so fucking hot.”

Your chest heaved as you rubbed his back, “That’s because you wanted to get caught, handsome.”

“It worked, didn’t it? I got both of the things I wanted.” He leaned up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Can I move yet?”

You shake your head, shutting your eyes when he shifts a bit. “Vox.” You whine, tightening your hold on him. “Don’t move.”

“You’re fine, I have you.” He murmured as he pressed small kisses to your face. “We can stay here.” You hum in contentment. “Thank you for indulging in my thoughts.”

You chuckle at his words, “I wanted it too, Vox. But, I think we officially traumatized Velvette.”

“She can go cry about it.” He rubbed your hip before giving you a quick kiss on your sore lips. “I love you, gorgeous.”

“Mm, I love you too, Vox.” You whisper back, letting him tighten his hold on you as the movie ends, sighing in exhaustion.

You might not be publicly introduced to be associated with the Vees, but you were definitely associated with Vox whenever you were in the confines of the Vee Tower.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

sub top Vox rambles because I said so!!!

I don't think he actually has a preference between topping and bottoming, I think it really depends on the mood and the partner. If it's somebody he doesn't trust enough to sub for, he'll probably top just because he feels like he has more control.

With his dom, he's just as needy and clingy as a top as he is a bottom. He's just as handsy (unless you tell him not to be, then he has to fight to keep his hands off you, he wants to touch you so bad), he's going to grind against you through his clothes, he wants to bury his face in your neck (as uncomfortable as that may be for the both of you)

It doesn't take long for him to whine and beg you to let him fuck you. He's already so sensitive that his whole body jumps if you just graze your hand against his cock. Tease him a little bit, just make the tip circle around where he wants to be so desperately, and he's thrashing and kicking his legs out, he's begging, he NEEDS to be inside you so bad, please, he can't take it anymore.

Slowly riding and grinding on him is agonizing for him, in a good way. Of course he wants more, but the way you pin his hips down to keep him from moving, you reminding him that you're in charge, it makes him shudder and twitch and sends tingles all up and down his body. HOWEVER--

If you give him the go-ahead, tell him to fuck you like he means it, something in his brain snaps.

He really, REALLY likes the mating press position. He wants deep inside you, he wants your legs up or wrapped around him, to feel as much as you as he can.

He's thanking you and telling you how good you feel before he stops being coherent entirely. He wants to fuck you right, he wants you to be proud of him, tell him how good he's doing, his screen is glitching out, flashing between error messages and his face, biting his lip and eyes screwed shut trying to keep going as long as he can for you.

Does he have a breeding kink? Maybe. Maybe. He wants to cum inside you so bad he can hardly stand it. It makes him feel closer to you. But he'll only do it if you tell him he can. But he's not exactly thinking clearly, sometimes he severely misjudges the timing and doesn't manage to pull out. When that happens his eyes widen and he's apologizing, he's so sorry, he'll make it up to you with whatever your punishment will be. He's genuinely ashamed and his eyes start to water. It's up to you if you tell him it's alright or if you berate him for it. He'll cry either way.

look at this pathetic little manbaby!!!! i love him!!!!

i need him istg i need to cuddle up to him and be his sweet little housewife and take care of him. because let's be real he needs somebody like that.

nsfw

and just imagine riding him until all the can do is whine and repeat your name like a prayer, almost overheating, because god it's too much!! and after he cums countless times and begs you to stop he doesnt actually mean it, he just is so overwhelmed with pleasure he doesnt know what to do!! please don't listen to him, he needs it!!

strong believer that Vox ☝️☝️ would have such intense ‘i need my [girlfriend/boyfriend] 😕” moments. Like they would hit him like a brick literally whenever and he’d just be so pissy and angry to anyone that whole day until he got to see you.

any fics of fucking Vox so hard the power completely goes out in the making? i looove what you've written for him already, would be really cool if the glitches were visible in the writing too!!

warnings — Pegging, small use of ‘mommy’, Vox being a whiny bitch

summary — Vox takes it in the ass so hard Hell has a power shortage because he’s just a whore like that.

a/n — OMG I LITERALLY LOVE THIS !! god any excuse to write Vox getting absolutely wrecked is a YES.

“Fuck,” Vox’s back arched and his hands went to grip the top of his screen, “Fuck ju—zzs—st like that.”

His voice buffered as you pushed your strap deeper into him. He was on his back with his legs wrapped around your torso so your plastic dick would have easy access to his ass.

You had to hold your hands on his chest to keep him from squirming too much.

“Needy tonight, aren’t we, Vox?” you snickered  as you moved the strap inside him.

“God, fuu—ck you, bi—tcc—tch,” he hissed before you cut him off by aggressively forcing pushing deeper into him.

He yelped and moaned, throwing his head back on the pillow.

“You’re in no position to be saying that, sweetheart,” you start moving the strap faster and rougher.

He let out a glitched out whine and stared up at you with pure hatred, and desperate arousal.

Your hands that rested on his hips now dug into him hard enough to break skin.

“A—ah,” he whined, “What’s wr—oo—ong with you? S—slow down.” he whined at how rough you were being but then followed it up with a long drawn out moan.

“Aw baby,” you leaned down and caressed his screen, “Your going to have to learn to be nicer if you want me to slow down. For now you’ll just have to take my cock like the slut you are.” 

He surprised himself by whining at your harsh words. Your fingers glided down and brushed over his nipples. He then shocked himself even further with the fact that, despite this humiliating position, he arched into your touch, craving any and all attention he can get from you.

You noticed how desperate he was, and smirked. He looked pathetic, sweaty and panting, covered in markings from your teeth, and looking up at you with a dark clouded expression, waiting to see what you do next.

To his delight, you continued to roughly ram into him, going at a rapid pace, nails once again digging into his hips.

“ohmygodohmygodoh—tsk tsk,” he moaned loudly as his hands clung to the sheets. At this point he couldn’t get one sentence out before glitching.

“Wow, look at you” you remark, rolling your hips, “what a little attention whore you are.” 

He whined and threw his head back. At this point, there was a low static-y humming coming from him. 

“‘m not—bzz— ‘m not a whore,” his protests were weak at this point. If he wasn’t being interrupted by malfunctioning mid-sentence, he was being cut off by his own whimpers.

“Oh, but you are, sweetheart. Only a whore would be taking mommy’s cock so good,” you coo down at him.

The implication that he was doing good, especially because that meant approval from you, made his brain feel funny.

“See?” your hands move up from his hips and caress the sides of his screen, “your so pretty when you don’t argue with me, baby.” 

Oh, that did something to him. He wasn’t around a lot of positive people, so the idea that your attention could be shown with something as kind as praise, made his throat tighten.

His moans turned into choked out broken sobs and all the brattiness from earlier drained out of him. You were sure that if he had tear ducts, he would be crying right now.

You hammered into him harder than ever, leaning over him to occasionally pepper kisses on his neck and screen. 

“Nngh— mommy ‘m— bzz— ‘m sorry,” he moaned out, slinking his arms around your neck, trying desperately to bring you closer to him. To make sure he was the only thing catching your attention at the moment.

Your hips rolled fast and rough inside him, and he could feel his climax approaching. 

“Sorry for— wait, you’re sorry?” You were sure you knew what he was talking about, his attitude earlier. Still, for a moment you were thrown off by the idea that this cocky, power-hungry asshole was apologizing unprompted to you. 

After a moments consideration, you came to the conclusion that he must have been slowly easing into subspace. He was probably apologizing because he wanted you to, what, praise him?

All though it seemed slightly out of character for the usually pretentious, bratty man, his half lidded desperate eyes seemed to convince you. 

Your grip on his hips once again tightened as you drilled into him, rougher than before.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” you panted, earning a loud whimper. His arms tightened around your neck and his nails started to dig into the skin of your back.

“So good for me, taking mommy’s cock so well, looking so pretty for me too.”

He whined loudly and the frequency coming from his head started to get louder. You were ramming into him with such concentration that you didn’t notice the lights started to flicker around you.

“c—ccl—close—,” he tried to speak but only uttering a glitched out moan. Luckily, you picked up on what he was trying to say.

“Of course, sweetheart, whenever you want,” you said, rolling your hips once more to make his orgasm even more pleasurable.

“So good for me, Vox, apologizing for being a brat, telling me when your about to cum,” you speak softly into his ear, except you don’t think he comprehends a thing except for ‘so good for me.’

He let out a choked pathetic sob and whined for more. His audio was glitching out more than ever, making him almost unintelligible.

Now the flickering of the lights around you was undeniable, even producing a low buzzing sound reminiscent of the one Vox’s head was currently making.

“So perfect, my pretty baby, ‘m so lucky to have such a good boy.”

All of the praise sent him over the edge. With one loud moan, he came.

But in a moment, the buzzing light bulb beside you exploded, and all the illuminated buildings outside your window went dark, causing a full blackout all across the city.

Vox was still clinging to your neck, breathless, panting against you. 

“Shit. Was that, like, too much, Vox?” you ask, clearly concerned as you go to pull out of him.

He pulls back slightly from your neck but stops you from moving your strap out of him. 

“Please— tsk tsk,” he breathes, still buffering slightly, “Please more.”

a/n — I was too nice to him at the end of this fix but DONT WORRY GUYS I got another sub!Vox request that will literally destroy him

also, i saw someone say that since vox is around so many toxic people, an actual compliment would fuck with him super hard.

so as you can see i agree with them

DoubleTrouble No. 2 - Missionary Impossible

Yes, we did Team up again - the wonderful @macabr3-barbi3 and my humble self wrote another DoubleTrouble fic, based of a hilarious FranticFanfic game result (If you are a writer and have some friends who also indulge in fanfiction, check the game out: www.franaticfanfic.com - Your throat will hate you but the laughter makes it worth it!)

This time we give all of you Vox Lovers a real Treat! Mine is the Readers POV, while Barbie provided Vox's POV - get the TV's dirty version right here.

And now, without further ado:

Explicit Sexual content - Minors DNI - 18+ - 6.5k words

You had to admit: Breaking into Lucifer’s personal vault was your boldest and most impressive job yet. You had your concerns - normally you didn’t take jobs that seemed too shady or downright wrong to you - but you didn’t steal anything powerful, just a bottle of his vanished wife’s perfume. You shake your head at the memory. Most certainly one of her many, still very active superfans, kind of icky to be honest. But money talks, and boy did that client talk.

The only downside had been that for the first time, the 666 Evening News had a picture of you.

Granted, blurry, obstructed and absolutely not usable at all - but it still irked you to no end. They didn’t call you the ‘Traceless Thief’ for nothing.

But even though no one was more the wiser about your identity, even though Lucifer begrudgingly stopped looking for witnesses, even though the gossip on the streets about speculations who the Traceless Thief could’ve been died down - ever since that night, you felt like you were being watched.

The next jobs you take go without news coverage and media attention, and yet, you grow more and more paranoid. Hell has many eyes - figuratively and literally - and you feel them all on you. But there is work to be done and a living to be earned - and the tiny alibi antique bookshop you keep definitely doesn’t provide. No one sane wants old shit in hell - and the rare specimens that do and visit the dingy little space under your apartment come and go, disappointed in the stock you barely keep.

Which is fine by you - you only really need it for one thing. The PO Box.

The wonderfully boring, uninteresting PO Box of the ‘Dusty Pages’ bookshop was your portal to the real money. Hell had become a lot better the day you mastered the powers the underworld granted you: No physical barrier could contain you. Being intangible granted you freedom, and to return to the profession you were best in: Stealing Shit.

Of course, noble causes like overturning corrupt governments by breaking into officials homes and publishing their many crimes was still stealing, if you ask heaven that is, and it landed you in hell. You gave up being salty about it, and made the best out of the situation.

“Hey Frankie. How’s the wife?” The post office clerk, a grumpy looking crocodile in an ill-fitting checkered suit huffs.

“Still fucking annoying, as always. Each day I’m getting closer to bribing an exterminator to kill the bitch just to shut her up for good.”

You chuckled, leaning on the counter and tapping your fingers on the scratched wood.

“Aw, did you burn the meatloaf again? You know Alice hates that.” Frankie gives you an exasperated look, which you meet with a mocking grin.

“You want something? Except for getting on my nerves?”

You shrug, twirling a tiny key on a string around your finger. Frankie, and by proxy Alice too, were parts of your harmless, boring, inconspicuous appearance. Just a normal young sinner, just a normal errand to run, keeping normal small talk with the clerks.

“Just checking my PO Box. I’m waiting on a few rare books I ordered to restock.”

“Uh-huh. Tell someone who gives a shit.”

The crocodile turns away, adjusting his small, round reading glasses and eager to ignore you. Perfect.

“Always nice to chat with you, Frankie.” you say and saunter over to the little door with the number 13. The quiet click always sounds satisfyingly like a little exclamation of joy and like cashflow, and under the ‘Old Crap & Thingamajigs’ catalog you found what you were hoping for. A thick envelope and a letter - new jetstream-bathtub, here you come.

God, why were the VoxTech maintenance uniforms so fucking skimpy?

You grumble silently, cursing yourself that you haven’t grabbed the male one. But that would’ve been suspicious, and you couldn’t afford to be suspicious today. Not if you want to get the job done and live to tell the tale. 

The Vee Tower is full of cameras, hundreds of tiny, red blinking lights next to crystal clear lenses, and dead spots were hard to find and a rare occasion. So, when you couldn’t shift through the walls, you had to look like you belonged. And apparently, a fucking laced, black mini-skirt and a top with puffy sleeves that looked more like a fetish bralette was what it took to ‘belong’. The whole point was blending in, not being remembered - and all the female employees from cleanup and maintenance looked the exact same as you. So, unless one was walking around with a bag full of personnel files on hand, you looked like anyone else on this floor.

You stepped into the elevator, the keycard your client had sent you along with the money and initial job offer in hand. Wherever that person got those precious credentials, you were grateful for them because it gave you an easy way to bypass all the layers of security that VoxTech imposed. All that hassle for an incriminating photo.

You sighed when you pressed the button to floor 66, where the CEO of VoxTech enterprises had his private apartment. Vox.

The name was even more intimidating than Lucifer's to you. While the king of hell was aloof, inactive, disinterested in the ongoings of hell, Vox was the absolute opposite. He knew every little secret. VoxTech had millions of eyes and ears. It was a well known fact that he kept his all-seeing spycams on the whole pentagram and his pliant audience in his steely grasp. Always on top of the times, on top of the news, on top of the sales and on top of any business, shady or not, in hell. In the eyes of the citizens of the Pride Ring, Vox and his partners Valentino and Vevette owned practically everything. He had the largest audience in the history of hell, the sharpest wit and the keenest, calculating eye on the prize - a charming manipulator that was considered very much dangerous and not to be underestimated. Which is why you had to plan your gig for a time you were certain he wasn't around.

A shame really - you couldn’t deny, despite his ruthlessness and questionable business practices with which he had built his empire, you kind of admired the self-made TV-demon that rose to overlord status and made quite a big name for himself in stellar time. That, and he was nice to look at too, even with a flatscreen for a head. Oh well.

The ding of the elevator brought you back to the job at hand, and with confident steps, you glanced up and down the corridor. There were a few cameras pointed to the apartment door, but you found a dead spot not far off, and with a content smile, you walked over as if to inspect the carpet, just to shift as you were out of the camera's angle, your body transpiring through the wall, and with a quiet thud, you were inside.

That was the moment the lights went out.

A power outage was the last thing you had expected - in the Vee Tower of all places. The one place in hell that burst with electricity, and you would laugh at the irony if you weren't so tense. The timing is suspicious,and with a beating heart you shuffle forward, trying to phase through the nearest wall.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows and huff, irritated. The wall is - well, a wall, and while that was a normal state for others, for you? Unimaginable. Your hands are resting against the concrete and steel, normally easy peasy to walk through. But you feel the hardness under your fingertips, much more intense than it should and almost stinging.

Conventional route it is, then, you think begrudgingly and slowly make your way through the corridor, listening into the stillness of the apartment. The corridor led into a spacious living room - flat, modern couches that screamed money and luxury arranged in a half circle, surrounded by various screens, all turned off. In the middle you see the outlines of a metallic, lavish coffee table, empty and clean like in a catalog. It was the kind of space that wasn’t really meant to be lived in, but to show just how much you had that you didn’t really need. A show.

You scanned the room. There was an open arch leading into a kitchen - also polished and top notch empty, not the cluttered mess you had in your apartment - and a closed, narrow door, likely a storage room. But at the opposite end of it, you see a faint, blue stripe of light, teal blue, luring you towards it. A night light maybe, or some indirect mood lighting shit that was all the rage since LED’s hit the Pentagram a few years ago, shining through a cracked door. Intentionally inconspicuous, your brain whispers, but anything was better than the dim darkness you were stumbling in now. 

When you reach the glowing gap and peek cautiously into the adjacent room, one hand almost on the handle, a groan makes you freeze before you could register what you are looking at.

Oh satan.

Vox.

A LOT of Vox.

The overlord was fucking home, and not just that. In his bedroom - your target location - naked, an impressive and glowing cock in hand, working himself in a way he would definitely not appreciate anyone seeing him in. You felt your neck and cheeks flush with heat - another thing you did not expect nor calculate for. But you can’t look away - as surreal and absolutely dangerous this situation is - his deliciously large hands and the sheer sight of his luminous length glistening with precum as he strokes himself cuts your breath short with highly inappropriate lust. The screen in front of him was bright, and for a moment, you were so enraptured with him that you didn’t recognize the silhouette he was pumping himself to.

You.

It’s you.

In this ridiculous maid costume that was unconsciously riding up your ass, sneaking through the corridor, not even half a minute ago. With growing horror you watch yourself taking tentative steps through the living room, the you on the screen hesitating before deciding to move to the left, one arm reaching out to a cracked open door.

“Fuck, yes.”

The words were barely said when your brain kickstarts.

Fuck, no.

He knew. He knew you were here.

In a flight of panic, you bolted for the corridor, back to the door, back to the safety of not-fucking-here, but you couldn’t even make four steps before your wrists were bound by cables shooting out of the walls surrounding you. You ready yourself to slip through them, but again, your powers leave you high and dry again. Helpless, you back away into the nearest wall, and the door opens fully, with the TV demon standing in the frame. Tall, intimidating even butt-fucking-naked, and a cocky smile on his HD face.

“Hello, my dear,” he almost coos and takes a few steps towards you as you writhe in the restrictions, desperately trying to slip out and get the fuck away. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”

“Invitation?” That makes you still against the cables, your eyes darting over his face, confused. What the hell does that mean? You weren’t invited, you had a job to... Oh. Oh shit.

“You’re the client?”

His face was answer enough, and you would have slapped yourself for your stupidity if he hadn't had you in an iron grip. A loud game-show ding startles you back into the here and now, he was so much closer than before…

“Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?”

He traces his fingers down your cheek, his tips sparking with static electricity. How fucked up are you that this turns you on? Not being able to suppress the need to glance at his still shining and ripped cock again, you swallow hard. Where is your sense of self-preservation? Apparently left outside of this apartment, along with your usual foresight and dignity.

Cables wrap around your thighs and with a yelp you feel yourself getting lifted, legs parted by the wires. You almost topple over but are caught by his hands on your arms and faced with a smirk when you press your back into the wall, stabilizing yourself with a reddened face.

“Those didn’t come with the uniform,” He has the audacity to wink at you, nudging to the black lace panties you wear - excuse a girl for not wearing granny panties in the workplace - and you want to retort something snarky to him, when he looks at you that way. 

Within a moment, you realize two things.

Firstly, with the way he was roaming your body, his eyes lingering not only on your face, but your tits and the flimsy underwear concealing your very obvious wet arousal - you were fucked one way or the other. Which should’ve terrified you. Emphasis on ‘should’.

Because the other thing was, that even though he had bound you, even though you were at the mercy of this powerful sinner who tricked and trapped you here, rendering your power useless with whatever-the-fuck… he didn’t seem malicious, but rather… curious? Fascinated? Playful? You can’t really pinpoint it, but something tells you that - if you play your cards right - you might get more out of this make-pretend job than a jetstream-bathtub and hopefully all your limbs intact. And most importantly - you have nothing to lose.

“They're from my personal collection - lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform." It takes a lot to steady your voice as you talk, with the way his clawed hands run along the insides of your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He cocks his brow, as if he's pleasantly surprised, and licks his lips before he answers, his voice sultry and dripping of sexual tension.

"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say. Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."

You gasp as you feel the soft fabric being pushed aside and long fingers running lightly through your drenched folds. Fuck, you can already tell just how skilled those fingers must be. How great they'd feel deep inside you. Involuntarily, you buck your hips to guide them to where you wanted them most - onto your clit and burrowed to his knuckles - the desperation just dripping from you as he chuckles and lets his thumb glide over the throbbing pearl teasingly teasingly as he pushes one of his digits in. Your head rolls against the wall behind you with a needy moan escaping your lips and you have to bite them to stay focussed for what you were about to do.

"What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."

The rest of his sentence died in his throat, replaced by a low, long and stuttering moan. Half shocked, half aroused, he looked down to his throbbing cock, then his head snapped up to you, grinning down on him. You moved your hips again, grinding down on his unmoving fingers, frozen in place at his confusion, confirming your suspicion that he didn't know about your other power. Not as strong as your intangibility, sure, but strong enough for him to feel - and see - the ghostly hand you envisioned around his dick, continuing what he started, pumping him in leisurely, slow strokes. 

"Didn't know about that move, doll." His hand comes alive again, and even though his voice glitches a bit he adds another one, much more tenderly and almost softly, properly prepping you. And judging by the circumference of the cock you feel through your spectral hand, it was more than precaution, but nothing less than a mercy. Mercy you were ready to beg for, given his thumb would continue the delicious circles it drew, just the right pressure, just the right pace to push you near the edge without tipping you over it.

"You're just a whole mystery, huh?"

Now fairly certain your head wouldn't roll at the end of this encounter, you let your last reservations slide. It has been too long since you were in the hands of a skilled lover, one that didn't disappoint, that didn't come too soon or drilled amateurishly into you in search for the g-spot they never found. This one knew what he was doing, finally, and by satan you wouldn't waste this opportunity. Make it a night to remember, and who knows? If you fuck his brains out, maybe he'd be knocked out long enough after for you to make a quick and easy exit. You imagined the spectre hand to twist, its thumb mapping the soft ridges around the crown. That seems to do the trick for Vox, and the look he shoots you deeply satisfies. "Fuck me, that's good."

Playing into this sentiment, you didn’t stifle the moans his damn fingers stroke out of you, the way they glide in and out, pressure on all the right marks without fail is too good to hold back. Your skin felt on fire, even without him touching anything but your pussy, and you felt no energy left to care that your clothes - if you would call them that - seemed to fall apart on your body, skirt pushed up to your waist, top loose around your shoulders and almost down enough to let your boobs fall out. You must look a mess, but then again the overlord didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He looked outright hungry, eyes glitching occasionally with a particular squeeze of your hand or a poignant lustful moan from your lips.

“Do you have to concentrate to do that?”

“A little.”

His fingers hitting that one sweet spot inside you, cutting any other, more elaborate explanation short. Fucking hell, that you had to get tricked and trapped by an overlord to find a man that doesn’t think ‘foreplay’ is the interview before a soccer game was a fucking travesty. Grateful for that fact you withdraw from your own pleasure and decided to reward him, regaining your concentration enough to imagine a second hand to pay attention to the firm, very plump balls of his, rolling them in its palm and giving them a gentle, tentative squeeze.

“Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”

As if you challenged him, there’s a subtle change in his demeanor - his eyes more inquisitive, his fingers more eager and fervent, and a third one joined the others, stretching you oh-so-deliciously. For a moment you think you’d lose control, the ghost hands flickering before you got a grip on them again, determined to not tip the scales so soon. But you had to admit - it was tempting, to give into this implied command: Submit, let me take care of you, let me fuck you dumb.  

Little did he know, you were all about equality - or nothing at all. And if he was allowed to plow you with three fingers, surely he couldn’t protest against a third hand.

You weren’t sure how you’d manage it… the power was new, still waiting to be mastered, but you willed a third hand into reality, joining the one on his balls, softly working their way down and massaging his perineum. It strained you to no end, operating the conjured hands while Vox was adamant to make you cum on his fingers alone, but with how the cables shook and loosened around you, you were fairly certain it was enough to show him you meant business, your message clear: If anything, baby, we will fuck each other dumb. 

You watch with almost painful arousal how his screen flashes from the three-way-stimulation, his teeth slightly baring from the sensation but without losing his cocky smirk, as if to show his resilience.

"You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve."

With a wince from you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, empty and fucking whining at the loss, eyes sharp and with a dangerous glint in them. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."

He kneels down then, opens his mouth, and you can't believe your eyes as a thick, long, very analog blue tongue unfolds and licks his lips hungrily and almost impatiently. A hand around each thigh spreading you almost impossibly wide, the hot breath feels chilling against your slick opening, and a brush of the tip of his tongue on your swollen clit makes your toes curl and your muscles tense with expectation. Your gaze, locked with his, breaks only when your head throws back and you moan out his name as he truly begins to eat you out. 

No teasing or games, no building up the tension - it's unmerciful, frenetic, his tongue alternately flickering on your clit with its pointed tip and pushing deep into your core with an almost unbearable thickness until there was no space left to be filled, tasting every little centimeter inside. Instinctively, your real hands twitch in their restraints, wanting to reach out, grab his head, the frame of his screen, fucking anything really just to have something of him to hold onto and push. Your hips can't hold still, but he made sure not to lose an inch as his hands gripped your ass down and into him as if he heard your thoughts, drawing you deeper into his maw as he devours you. Your spirit hands fade in and out, your mind unable to keep them steadily corporeal - he was too good, his tongue was too good, not once did his rhythm falter nor the damn thing slow down, giving you no chance to collect yourself.

Finally - oh god finally - his cables loosened enough for you to dart your hands towards him, finding a saving anchor on his arms. You literally felt like you were drowning - wet and out of breath, senses fogged by that wonderfully violent tongue swiping and licking and prodding and fucking pulsing. When he hummed into your cunt, all dams broke, and you could only stutter “fuck, cumming - oh my God-” before you snapped and you fell into the depths of your orgasm.

Whatever prick, mouth or fingers you had on and in you before - this erased them all. Never before felt your head so light, your cunt so heavy and hell so divine.

His relentless licks make you mewl with every stroke as he rides you through your high, but he just doesn’t stop. Greedy, rawing your abused cunt to a point where moans turn into almost pained whimpers and your body twitches and squirms, begging for him to relent.

Mercifully he understands, and when he stands up, you only passingly realize with a pang of bad conscience that your spectre limbs have dissipated somewhere along the line, leaving him high and dry - only metaphorically, because his cock was soaked in leaking cum.

He hooks your legs over his arm, his other snaking around your waist to lift you from the wall, and you made no motion to resist it, being that the prospect of his soft sheets on his bed were much more preferable than color-coated concrete on your back. The short walk over feels like the eye of the storm - a short illusion of a safe space, and you use it to assess the damage.

For one - the ‘clothes’ you wore were useless now, they did nothing clothes were supposed to do - The sleeves were half-ripped from the bralette, hanging by a thread, and the top itself so far down your tits were fully out, nipples dark and flushed, while the skirt was nothing more than a drape at this point, hiding the mess on your thighs and reddened, puffed lips.

Then you look up through your lashes, up to the best lay you ever had, down below as well as up above. You should plan your escape, should use the time you had now to calculate what to do to get the fuck out while you could - Instead your horny little fucked-up brain was busy imagining how you could draw this out, make him so pussydrunk he’d send another decoy job weekly, just so you could return to that magic tongue again and again.

You were right. The sheets felt soft and obscenely expensive. You spread your fingers, the only real motion you were still able to make for now, taking his roaming gaze and the appreciative expression on his screen as a badge of honor. Your senses tingled, and you blinked one, two times, listening into your powers. The walls of his apartment were prepped by him to prevent you from leaving - electricity most likely, something intangible itself - but the ceiling and floors weren’t.

“Got another round in you, baby?”

You look up to him as he wraps your legs around his waist,lining himself up to you, tip ready and loaded. But he doesn’t push in. He waits, and you could cry as he does so.

Fucking hell, the ruthless media overlord half of hell fears to the point they piss themselves is waiting for your consent.

It’s this unexpected, contradictory duality that draws your lips into a smile. Trapping you in his territory, able to kill you with his goddamn pinkie, and yet the only thing he does is make you cum on his mouth and wait for a ‘yes’ to fuck you mindless - how could you not fall for that? Even more, how could you not test your luck with that?

With regained strength you reach for his dick, fingers wrapping firmly around his girthy base. His body follows your gentle guidance, and he lets himself glide into your ready heat with a groan that sends a shiver down your spine - such an earnest sound it makes you want to return the favor tenfold. And you just knew the way you could.

“You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” Voice like honey, you refocus your mind, visualizing the wicked idea that had entered your mind.

A soft hand. Long, flexible fingers, slick and smooth and ready. It formed as you thought it, stroking the cleft of his ass, halting at the tight ring of muscle it found, testing his reaction with a teasing, light press against his opening.

The reaction was priceless. Face glitching, hips jerking violently forward into you as its fingers pass his entrance and slide into him, coming to a halt at that one, very sensitive spot. His breath is ragged and eyes fucking wild, but the way he bends down, gripping your hands to entangle them with yours and pressing as much midnight-blue skin against yours tells you that he doesn’t exactly hate it.

“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, grinning at the way he shudders at the sultry tone of your voice and the challenging eyes of yours, hilted in your pussy still, taking the ghostly fingers like a good boy.

“Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls - the floor is fair game - ah fuck-”

He found some of his senses back, his thrust surprising your nerves with a sudden jolt of electricity - added by him or imagined by you, you can’t tell. He fills you so perfectly, as if molded just for you, big and hard and absolutely sublime, and when he brings his knees up more and bends you at the waist he manages to push in even deeper, pounding almost at your cervix with increasingly feverish, tough thrusts. Again, he wanted to break your concentration, but this time, you were prepared. You let your body do what you trained it to do - it goes hazy, misty, almost translucent in a blue-ish hue, revealing the vision of his buried prick deep inside you, teal glow in navy mist, before you solidify again and find the strength to grin up at him.

“If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.”

There was a wicked glint on that screen of his, and he upped the pace of his snapping hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

"Guess you'll have to move in then, baby." His voice sounds almost distorted, his body starts to spark with fizzing bolts of electric energy, and when he grips the headboard with one hand to gain more momentum to fuck even faster and stronger into you, you almost want to take him up on that quip, convinced his apartment was equipped with more than just a boring jetstream hot tub.

Your spirit fingers stroke in a come-hither motion over his prostate, over and over, varying in pressure, intensity and speed, and each swipe makes him moan a little louder, driving his dick a little deeper into you. It's becoming a race towards a finish line none of you wanted to get to in the first place, a fight of wills and bodies, pushing you to your limits judging by the way your oversensitive pussy clenches, begging for release once more. But by Satan himself you did not intend to lose without a good fight, your fingers raking over his lithe back and the sharp edges of his body, lingering, scraping, writing wordless praises into his skin in red streaks.

“In fact, sweetheart,” he says as he pounds you and your pants become out even louder, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave - you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”

Vox, too, is close, you can see it, hear it, most importantly feel it. One hand remaining on the headboard, the other scoops you up by your neck, pulling you onto his face in a kiss so breathtaking and fierce you almost pass out. It's sloppy and lustful, it's lips against lips and tongue on tongue, and your ability to use either becomes redundant when you and him both simultaneously cry out, orgasms overlap and intertwine, you cunt clenching tightly around his pulsating length, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum into you as your own release drips onto the soaked sheets below. Your eyes roll back, the fingers buried inside his tightened ass vanish and your muscles relax. With his hand still on your neck, claws digging into your skin, he slowly brings you back onto the mattress to let you fall together with him.

Silence settles for a second. A brief moment of stillness and clarity, sweat cooling your skin, hearts slowing down and breathing returning to normalcy. You feel the aftermath of his touches everywhere. His marks litter you from top to bottom: Your wrists and thighs are covered in red streaks from the tightness of his cable bondage. Your whole skin tingles from the waves of his inherent electric current. But most telling of all was the pooling mess inside of you, already leaking.

You let yourself feel the weight of his body on yours - it's an intoxicating feeling, the heat radiating off his dark blue skin, and the subtle charge beneath, a hidden hum underneath your fingertips, telling of the immense power of an Overlord you just let fuck you senseless. Now would be the time to run - his screen was completely blue, turned off while he recovered his breath - if you wanted, you could disappear, and he wouldn't be able to stop you or track you down. But when you searched the depths of your mind and body for regret and the sense of danger it brought - there was none. Only satiated warmth, an afterglow you could bathe in, like a warm, healing balm, easing your aching bones and bruised skin.

And just in that moment of resolve, Vox’s screen returned to show his face, and he lifted his head slightly to look at you with eyes as bright and vivid as the neon signs lighting up the streets of the entertainment district outside his windows.

One Month Later

“Thanks babes, I was about to lose my shit when Velma and Kelly fucking quit on me. Bunch of pussies, those two, seriously.”

You shoot Velvette a smile over your shoulder, adjusting the last couple of details on six of her girls, ghostly blue hands hovering around them - clipping a collar here, buckling a shoe there. You pity the two foolish girls - the runway show had Velvette occupied tonight, but tomorrow - well, you were sure Vel was about to annihilate their sorry stylist asses for blowing her off last minute… and not just with a snarky post on Sinstagram.

“No problem, Vel, that’s what I’m here for.”

The small woman laughs sarcastically, but not in the usual mean way, but a playful one, a friendly one. That was one of the things you could pride yourself on - That Velvette, social media queen and judge of what’s hot and not, fell in love with you almost as fast and hard as Vox did.

“Darling, we both know that no one really knows what exactly Vox hired you for. What was the job description he pulled out of his flat ass again?” she raises a cocky brow, sipping obnoxiously on her iced coffee to go in her hands, holding out another, identical one for you. “Ah, yes, ‘ASS’.”

You take the drink from her, smiling mischievously back at her. When Vox came up with that title, he didn’t even notice the ambiguity of its abbreviation, and you let him stew over it for almost a day before you told him, silently convinced your fingers left a memorable impression. “It’s ‘Administrative Services Specialist', and what can I say? My resumee was very convincing.”

Velvette snorts into her vanilla foam. “Funny name for your cunt love, but you do you. Now shoo. Didn’t you and flatface have a date tonight?”

You wave her a quick goodbye, sipping up the cold drink in one gulp and throwing it into the trash as you bypass it, hurrying down the hall and plucking the private keycard from your back pocket. You scan it at the elevators, noticing the other employees backing away from you, and you couldn’t hide the grin that flashed your face. No one dared to ride in that elevator with you, a very badly kept secret that it sent you one way straight to Vox’s apartment, and every one of them would rather chew glass than be caught by whatever awaited the opening elevator doors.

And Vel was right - you had a date with Vox, a special one at that.

Barely three weeks ago you actually did move in - call it a whim of insanity, call it fate - and since that, your days were filled with a job in the Vee Tower that you actually liked (no one shed a tear at the ‘Dusty Pages’ closure notice) and the nights were spent naked, sweaty and blissfully explicit under, on top and any other possible way with Vox in his bed. You learned something new about yourself - with the right partner, you were almost insatiable. Another thing you learned was that Vox seemed to feel just the same. Lucky coincidences indeed.

But date night was something special. Giving up the alibi bookshop was easy enough - but you were adamant that you still wanted to do your other jobs.

Not because of the money - Vox provided generously, and wouldn’t take a cent from you (although you managed to convince him to let you buy him at least snacks and small gifts, an exception you abused to the absolute limit). No, you actually liked to sneak through the night, liked the thrill of moving in the shadows and shifting through secured buildings. Liked the excited arousal you felt after a completed heist.

To preserve your secret, you and Vox decided that you wouldn’t reveal your main power to the others at Vee Tower, the only other people who knew were Velvette and Valentino.

The latter wasn’t your biggest fan, and who could blame him, giving that you were living with  and fucking his ex-lover, but he had his own flings and things to take care of, and after a few occasions where you stepped in to help him out at shoots and with his scripts, he at least became cordial towards you.

But date night was where you went out to do a job, secured through Vox for one of his many business partners, and the pool of people the TV demon had on hands that needed or wanted something of value was a bottomless pit from which you could choose the ones you liked the best. And your digital lover not only organized your gigs - he became your eyes and ears, your literal partner in crime.

The doors open, and Vox stands waiting, leaning, in the doorway, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

“You’re late, doll.”

“I know I know, but Vel needed some helping hands - you know I can’t leave her hanging.”

“Oh, I saw.”, he chuckles, his screen switching from his face to images of you from the security cameras on Velvettes floor, close ups of your face, your tits and ass sprinkled in between. ”You know I can never see enough of you, gotta keep those cameras on.”

You scoffed, but did so with a smile before you kissed him and ran off into the closet, undressing quickly while he followed you, letting himself fall down on his bed and watching you intensely as you peeled your clothes from your body and slipped into your signature skintight suit. By the time you were changed his cock was hard, straining his pants which you acknowledged with an appreciative smile.

You both exchange longing looks, but time is ticking. You put the newest addition to your equipment in your ear - a tiny, wireless headset, directly connected to Vox, bend over the bed, your tongue running over the warm line of his lower lip and sigh as he groans with want.

“I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”

You can’t seem to tear yourself from him with those big hands on your ass squeezing tightly and that goddamn tongue in your mouth, your mind half decided to tell your client to fuck off and fuck the demon in front of you senseless. But he gently pulls away, his eyes burning not only with need, but also with pride. A look you loved to see on him.

“And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.”

He slaps your ass as you pass him, and you shift through the wall, now almost as eager to steal that stupid looking red duck from some dingy, rundown hotel as you were to return to his waiting cock to cash in your salary.

DoubleTrouble No. 2- Missionary Impossible

I had the pleasure of teaming up once again with my beautiful friend @fraugwinska and we have another DoubleTrouble fic for you all, this one based off a final result while playing Frantic Fanfic: if you haven't played before, please- do it do it do it I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life

I handled the POV of everyone's favorite flat faced prince, and Frau got into the mind of the reader (which you can check out here)

Explicit Sexual Content- MDNI 18+

When Vox sees the blurry image of the sinner that had somehow managed to break into the personal vault of the King of Hell, he knows that he has to have you.

It starts initially as a desire to get some standing with Lucifer- he could roll up all smiles and charm with you in tow, “look who I managed to catch for you, your Majesty! While I’m here, let’s discuss some ways that we could benefit each other- better security cameras in your palace, to start…”

But when he starts trying to track you- the key word there being try- he finds that you’re one slippery little shit. He can’t keep you on a security camera for more than a few seconds at any time before you seem to just vanish into thin fucking air, always something of value in your hands, always gone before the authorities arrive. He laments to one of his business buddies about the struggle he’s having, and they hand him a business card- and wouldn’t you fucking know it, there’s your pretty face looking up at him from the paper with a PO box address on it. “Just send her a letter or something,” the guy tells him, “and once her payment is sorted out she’s the best you’ll find around.”

He tracks you a little bit longer though, and over time his focus… shifts. Vox starts thinking less about how he can leverage you with Lucifer (even though that’s still on the agenda) and starts thinking more about the skintight clothing you wear as you slip between his cameras undetected, sneak through half open doors without anyone seeing you, and the burning determination in your eyes when he sees you fully phase through a wall like Alastor with his goddamn shadows. You’re a marvel, and hotter than he would care to admit, and he thinks that maybe he can get you alone first before turning you right over to the King- at least for a few minutes.

A lot can be accomplished in a few minutes. And with that reasoning he creates his own PO box- because this wouldn't work if you knew it was him sending the mission your way- and sends the letter and the money.

And then he waits.

Everything is in place now- you have the money and the keycard and the totally bullshit letter stating that he was a well known sinner that had had ‘private moment’ with the CEO and needed back an incriminating photo that Vox had taken. And he was fucking ready- he was hooked up to his bedroom screen, sitting at the end of the bed naked and eager for his plan to start unfolding.

And there you were- he made sure security was a little more lax than it normally would be so that you could slip into the building and get into the uniform closet in the basement. He didn’t have any cameras in the dressing rooms- something that Valentino complained about constantly, but Satan, Vox might have been an overlord but he wasn’t a goddamn monster- but it was worth it to see you leave the area with the short skirt that hardly covered the plush skin of your thighs as you walked and tried fruitlessly to pull it down, a motion that gave him an excellent view of your cleavage when you bent down a little.

You were almost like Alastor; fuzzy on camera but not completely glitching it out. He didn’t think it was a magic thing, probably more something to do with your ability to phase through solid matter, but he had accounted for that for when you finally made your way up to the penthouse bedroom. 

He had been very specific in his letter- “being of a ‘private nature’ the photo would be in the bedroom, naturally, and the CEO would be out all evening doing ‘field work’ for a riveting scoop on the morning news.” It was only a matter of time before you would be here, and as he watched you try to side step all of the cameras- mostly turned off for the evening, and it wasn’t like there were many people around anyway since he had given a lot of the staff a rare night off for his plan- he found that just watching you, reveling in the anticipation of your arrival, was turning him the fuck on. 

He groans under his breath as he fists his cock, thumb swiping over the tip to spread the dampness that’s already gathered there. You were sneaky, and fuck if that didn’t do something for him, watching you try to outsmart a security system that he had designed and executed himself. It was almost cute; maybe would have been cute if it wasn't so goddamn arousing to know that you would be in his territory soon, ripe for the taking and none the wiser. 

Vox’s hand is slow as he pumps himself, trying not to bring himself to the edge before you got there- the moment was fast approaching as you stepped off the elevator and noticed the dead spot that he had purposely left for you, to allow you to slip ‘unnoticed’ into his apartment. 

As soon as his sensors indicated another person in the vicinity, he cut the power to the floor- all of it is redirected to the perimeters of his apartment and his bedroom, a crisscross of electricity between the walls that would make it impossible for you to shift through- if his theory is correct anyway. He hears your sharp intake of breath from the living room, and he can see the glow of his wide, dangerous smile reflected on the screen before him.

Vox hears the huff of irritation when you find that you can’t phase through the wall, and that you have to use the door- he gives himself a mental high five at being correct about not being able to pass through the electrical field that he’s created, and he converts some of his own power to turn the screen in the bedroom back on to see you again- creeping slowly through the apartment, no longer minding that your skirt is riding up in the back since you think you won’t run into anyone. He bites his tongue to hold back a moan when he sees you approach his bedroom door, an unbidden groan pulled from him when your delicate hand reaches out. And fuck, he wishes that he had left some of the lights on so he could see the cute blush taking over your face a little better when you realize what’s going on, a sharp inhale that he can hear through the crack he ‘accidentally’ left for you to peek through.

Vox had set everything up perfectly- when you look through the crack you first see him, large hand wrapped around his large cock, silhouetted by the images on the screen that play as he works himself. And he hears the cute stumble backwards that you take when you see that it’s you on the screen, live footage of you having snuck across the living room and then catching up with when you entered his bedroom, the skimpy maid outfit leaving nothing to his imagination.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, ready for the real fucking fun to start, and at his words you try to bolt- he slips some cables out of the walls to wrap around your wrists, and the face you make when you realize that you can’t get through those either is delicious. Even without the gentle guiding of the cables you back against the wall like a cornered animal, caught by a big, bad predator.

“Hello, my dear,” he says, inflecting some of his TV persona into the words to try and calm you down a little; he wasn’t trying to terrify you, not really, just get some adrenaline flowing through that sexy body of yours. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”

“Invitation?” And fuck, yes, your voice was just as alluring as he had been imagining it, soft and sweet and perfect for screaming his name. “You’re the client?”

He lets a game show sound loose, loud bells dinging as he approaches you. “Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?” He trails a finger down the side of your face, and he doesn’t miss the way your breath catches at the motion, how your eyes dart down to his still hard and leaking prick. Vox braces his hands under your arms so you have something to hang onto when his wires start lifting your legs up, spreading them for him to see.

He raises an eyebrow at the black, lacy panties that he finds there, his stomach tightening with a rush of arousal. “Those didn’t come with the uniform,” he says with a wink, and you flush under his gaze.

You seem to fight with yourself for a moment, a whole series of emotions flitting across your face before you seem to settle on a sort of resigned confidence. “They're from my personal collection,” you say, your voice admirably steady and without a trace of waver to it, despite how he knows you must be at least a little nervous. “Lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform.”

He tests his luck a little, running his hands over the insides of your thighs. Soft, supple skin meets his fingertips, tiny goosebumps raising in the wakes of his fingers, and he wants to trace them with his tongue- maybe get some more cables out from the wall to hold you steady and drop to his knees, really show you what he could do for you.

"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say.” That’s when he looks a little closer at the panties you wore, and fuck, he hadn’t noticed at first because of the dark color but they were damp, and Satan, if his mouth had the capacity to fill with saliva it absolutely would. “Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."

The gasp you let out when he uses a clawed finger to push your panties aside is going to stay in his memory drive forever, paired with the soft shudder of your entire body when he pushes a single finger into the wet heat of your cunt, hips bucking to get him where you want him. He takes mercy and rests his thumb on your clit, using his nail to gently flick at it. Your head drops against the wall behind it, a sinful moan accompanying the thunk when you make contact, and your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure.

He can’t keep his fucking mouth closed. "What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."

He chokes on the sudden grunt that escapes him before he realizes what, exactly, he’s feeling. He looks down and sure as shit, somehow, there’s the faint impression of a hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, slowly pumping him in time with your short thrusts down onto his hand. When he brings his eyes back up to your face there’s a cocky grin there, like you’ve pulled one over on him- and you fucking had. He had no idea about this other power of yours, the hand of a ghost held firmly around his prick and stroking with a maddening pace.

“Didn’t know about that move, doll,” he says, and he works another finger into you, gentle and slow to prepare you for the real show. He keeps the steady, insistent pressure on your clit, and the way that your walls flutter around his fingers is fucking intoxicating, even without the exciting new development of the phantom hand on his dick- how the hell does a person even realize they can do that? “You’re just a whole mystery, huh?”

The hand twists at its imaginary wrist, a soft thumb ghosting over the tip, and his hips stutter in the air, fucking into the fist that he can’t see. “Fuck me, that’s good,” he curses under his breath, and your smile is pure evil- this wasn’t going exactly how he had planned but he was enjoying the fuck out if it, out of you. Your skin was flushed and sweaty, the skimpy top of your maid uniform having shifted down enough that your tits were almost spilling out of it, the poofy short skirt rucked up around your waist so that he had a perfect view of your sweet pussy swallowing his fingers. “Do you have to concentrate to do that?”

“A little,” you admit breathlessly, the words breaking into a groan when he brushes his fingers against that soft bundle of nerves inside. Your eyes are still clenched shut, brow furrowed, and another hand brushes his thigh, coming up to cup his balls, rolling them softly in an imaginary palm. “Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”

Vox decides, then and there, that his personal mission for the night- besides stuff you full of his cock- is to break that concentration you’re clinging to so hard right now. The whisper of hands on him is lovely but he wants you mindless with pleasure, enough that you can’t concentrate enough to manifest them. He wants your whole attention on him, on the ecstasy he’ll bring you with his fingers and tongue and prick inside of you; he wants you drooling into his mattress while he fucks you so well you forget your own name.

Another finger, and you clench down on him so sweetly, the hands on his dick seeming to flicker but staying right where they are. 

Your head raises from the door and there’s a certain determined glint in your eyes, something mischievous in your smile while you look at him.- and then there’s another fucking hand, joining the one fondling his balls and reaching back. And fuck, that’s quite the interesting sensation, one of your delicate fingers rubbing at the soft skin of his perineum, but it feels fucking good. This hand isn’t as solid as the others so he can tell that your concentration is wavering, but so is his resolve; he can feel the grip of his cable loosening on you, he knows he’ll have to redirect the two of you if he wants to keep you both upright.

He bares his teeth in a snarl when the finger of the phantom hand presses a little more forcefully, pleasure jolting through his body- he would be damned if he lost to you though, no matter how skillfully you matched him at his own game. "You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve." He pulls his fingers from the sweet clench of your cunt, watching your entrance twitch with nothing to clamp down on now- he doesn’t allow himself to get distracted though. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."

He drops to his knees, mouth already open on the way down, and the way that your eyes widen at the sight of his tongue spilling out of his mouth almost has him spending himself over the faint, noncorporeal fingers that still jerk lightly at his cock. He licks his lips (his screen, really) as he gets his hands on your thighs, spreading you open for him again. You twitch when he ghosts a hot breath over your drenched folds, a suppressed cry gracing his ears when he lets the tip of his tongue just brush your swollen clit and your entire body tenses under his hands. He meets your eyes, and even knowing that you’re no blushing damsel here, that you had a manner of fighting back already at his groin and you were choosing not to use it, he also know that you aren’t prepared for what he’s about to do-

After all, Vox was very good at running his mouth, and those skills translated well to the task at hand.

He doesn’t see you throw your head back, but he hears the crack of your skull against the wall when he wastes no time, his tongue bullying its way into your slick cunt, coating itself in your arousal before retreating to flick and tease at your clit, your hands still bound by the cables at your wrist but reaching like you want to hold onto his screen, his shoulders, something- he almost wishes he had hair again for you to tug at.

He’s been in Hell long enough to know that the tongue on this demon body of his is a force to be reckoned with- its thick and long in ways that a cock seldom were, flexible and almost prehensile with the way that he could make it move. Vox switches back and forth between sucking and teasing your clit and getting his tongue as far into your core as he could, unrelenting pressure against that sweet spot that he was almost positive that no one had ever done as well as he was now- and never would again. He would fucking ruin you for anyone else’s tongue and fingers and cock, he wanted you to never be satisfied with an average sinner again, he wanted you to crave him the way that he had craved you since he saw that spotty little photo.

His hands move from your thighs to grip your ass, dragging your body impossibly closer, letting his tongue reach impossibly deeper as he fucking devours you like his life depends on it- maybe if he did a good enough job you would let him keep you here- fuck getting in good with Lucifer, he wanted you for himself.

He must have not been paying close enough attention to his cables, because your hands are free and grasping at his arms- he doesn’t need the warning with the way that your walls are fluttering around his fucking tongue, but his chest still swells with some primitive pride when you gasp out, “fuck, cumming- oh my God-”

And finally, fucking finally the phantom hands vanish- a blessing and a curse, since it means that he’s accomplished his mission but he had also been a hair trigger away from cumming himself, and now the tension sits uncomfortably in his balls, aching for release. He sucks and licks and cleans you up after your orgasm, dripping down your thighs and his screen, until you’re twitchy and sensitive with it and almost trying to push him away. Only then does he stand, hard cock still leaking and heavy with need, and you offer no kind of resistance when he slips his arm up under your knees to lift you from the wall, crossing the room to deposit your body on the bed.

In this moment Vox fully understands why Val insists on the maid uniforms for the building staff- you look positively delectable spread out across his sheets, the fluffy black skirt hardly covering where you’re slick with his spit and your release, your chest heaving so hard that your tits have escaped the miniscule top. You’re stunning, a vision laid out on silk, and he can’t imagine any other clothing making the moment any better- in fact, the only thing that would be better was if you were naked. He wants to see your whole body flushed and sweaty and dripping from your cunt with his cum and yours.

He wants to make a quip at you, say something clever, but watching you breathe with your lashes fluttering while you look up at him has his tongue twisted in ways it hadn’t been while buried inside of you. He kneels at the edge of the bed, running his hands over your thighs again, slicking his fingers through the wetness that still coats you. “Got another round in you, baby?” He hikes your thighs over his legs to wrap around his waist, his cock hard and pressing gently at your soaked entrance- not insistent, just there, available should you decide to take him up on the offer- and fuck, does he hope you will.

You smile all soft and pretty at him, bringing a hand down to guide him into you, and he can’t hold back the groan that tears from his chest at the feeling of your cunt clamping down on his prick, all wet warmth and pressure right where he fucking needs it. “You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” you say sweetly, eyebrows creased like you were concentrating on something-

Something presses past the tight ring of muscle of his ass, and his hips jerk at the sensation, a choked off groan that accompanies him bucking hard into your pussy. The phantom hand is back, somehow fucking slick and insistent as a finger is worked in slowly, pressure light and teasing and grazing against his prostate, and fuck that had no reason to feel so fucking good.

“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, and when he looks down he has the fleeting, hysterical thought that you would make a great overlord, because the expression you’re giving him is pure evil. “Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls- the floor is fair game- ah fuck-” You’re distracted a bit as he thrusts harder, bringing his kness up close so he can fuck his cock into you more forecully, try to break your concentration again as he catches your drift. Your entire body goes misty and near translucent like you’re proving a point, and he can see the glow of his cock through the haze before you fully solidify again. “If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.” 

Vox has never been one to back down from a challenge- especially not one from a gorgeous woman spread across his sheets like Hell’s most perfect buffet, ready to be devoured even as you work some kind of fucking magic finger into his ass. He’s pretty sure something is just shorting out in his brain, the pressure on his cock and his prostate melding into something so good he can fucking taste it behind his teeth, his screen glitching, eyes narrowed as he stares down at you and intensifies his efforts.

He’d be damned if he lost this wager you’ve presented to him. “Guess you’ll have to move in, baby,” he says, and he can hear the corruption of his vocals as he speaks, his antennae sparking with static that jolts through his whole body and makes everything that much more intense- he grips the headboard with one hand for leverage, bending further over you to snap his hips harder, faster, more focused against that spot inside that made your cunt pulse around him.

He should have guessed that you would rise to the occasion as another finger is added inside him, brushing in firm swipes against his prostate, easing off before coming back with a vengeance, and it's taking everything in him not to give in to that feeling, just let the instinctive jerk of his hips into you from the feeling be all that he focuses on. The sharp stab of pleasure every time the fingers move has him moaning unrestrained, and he can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed about it- whichever one of you came first, this was easily the best fuck he’s ever had, something about the way that you refused to just let him do as he pleased, the way you asserted yourself right alongside him, making everything that much more rewarding and fucking amazing.

Your nails drag harsh lines down his back, and the sting of it allows him to focus less on the electric ecstasy coming from your fingers in his ass and more on fucking you into the mattress, angling your hips up so he’s hitting that sweet spot dead on with every thrust, and fuck, fuck, he’s too fucking close, right back on the edge of orgasm like he had been earlier, skin slick with sweat from his effort and ready to lose himself. He could tell that you were close again too though, your entire body overtaken with a tremble that had your muscles tense, the soft walls of your pussy twitching around his cock and trying to milk his release from him too soon. And there goes his fucking mouth again, running before he can stop it, words of filthy praise falling from his screen and making you clench, your phantom fingers also jerking inside of him, unrelenting pressure that’s so fucking close to being too much.

“In fact, sweetheart,” he says, driving himself into her harder, faster, rewarding with her crescendoing cries, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave- you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”

He tangles his hands in your hair and drags you up to devour your mouth, long tongue licking into you and stealing your breath, your moans lost behind his teeth and his screen fogging with the heat of the air in the scant space between you.

There’s sudden harsh pressure against his prostate, his muscles clenching involuntarily as he stumbles headfirst into his orgasm- but maybe Hell isn’t all bad, because you whine right alongside him as you cum as well, your cunt clamping down on the hard length of his cock and fluttering with the waves of it as he spills his hot release inside of your perfect body, long pulses as he continue to fuck into you, the combined mess of it dripping down your thighs, his balls, onto his nice silk sheets. It’s better than perfect- it’s the best orgasm he’s ever fucking had, and considering his on-and-off relationship with a literal porn star, that was something majorly in your favor. His screen is going black around the edges as the force of it overheats something inside, his fans kicking up while he rides it out with you.

The fingers inside of him disappear, the sudden lack of pressure only mildly disappointing when he sees the way your eyes roll back into your skull, mouth dropped open and drooling, cockdrunk and exhausted as the tensing of your muscles finally subsides, and only then does he press a soft kiss to your lips before releasing you back onto the mattress. 

Sweet silence for a few beats of time, and he lets his screen power all the way off while he catches his breath. Vox is a little worried, honestly, that you might just decide to fuck off now- “thanks for the orgasms, see you never,” and shift through the floor, leaving him with only the security footage from the Tower and his bedroom and that first shitty blurred image of you. It wasn’t like he could do much to stop you, if that was what you decided. He can almost hear you thinking about it, a certain stiffness to your frame beneath him as you deliberate and decide.

He feels it when you do- you relax under him but don’t fade through the mattress, and Vox is taking that as a fucking win and a point to his ego, that you were staying, comfortable enough in the same space as him even after fucking to not flee despite his less than virtuous method of getting you here. He lifts his head from the mattress and powers back on, the light from the brightness of his screen illuminating your features, showing him an expression on your face that could be interpreted as… accepting? Welcoming? Whatever it was, Vox liked it, since it meant that- at least for the time being- you would stay here with him.

One Month Later

Vox had figured when Velvette’s two main assistants quit that she would text you asking for help- it irritated him to no end that the two of you had become such fast friends, because whenever you weren’t holed up in his bedroom so he could entertain you with his fingers and his cock- or even just a shitty movie or TV show playing on his screen while you painted your nails or some shit- you were over at Vel’s.

She wasn’t even talking shit to you about him. She just enjoyed your company; thought you were funny and smart as a whip and more capable than most of her staff, hence why she was always fucking borrowing you for things after he got you on the payroll so you could get rid of that crusty antique store you used as a front for your other ‘business.’ He had hired you so that he could see you more. Not fucking Velvette. The position he had given you- Administrative Services Specialist- was supposed to be a vague title that didn’t say anything really specific about what you did for him, and Vel took that to mean that she could use you whenever she wanted as well, for less scandalous things and ‘actual work,’ she liked to say.

He hadn’t even realized the acronym for the position when he gave it to you- you had educated him though, bent over his control desk and fucking you while your phantom fingers worked inside of him mercilessly until he got the message.

You had slipped out of the apartment while he was checking his email earlier to answer Velvette’s call to action, and if it wasn’t one of the biggest shows of the season he would have stopped the elevator as soon as he realized you were gone to bring you back, coaxed you into staying in bed with him. He figured it was date night though- even helping Velvette you wouldn’t miss that, and he knew he’d get to have his way with you soon enough. He settled for pulling up the feed of Velvette’s studio and watching you while you worked on finishing up some of the designs, phantom hands doing the work of the assistants that had left his partner high and dry.

It was always a wonder to watch your powers at work, whether it was actual work or new ways you discovered to get him off. You’d done a lot of practice since essentially moving into his place, and it was fascinating to see what you could do now; you currently had six pairs of hands hovering around Vel’s models, barely visible on the cameras if not for the items that they held, and he was pleased to see that the woman he worked with looked adequately impressed by it. He didn’t have audio in the studio- too many microphones had been broken by her shrill screeching when things didn’t go perfectly according to her plans- but he could see you conversing about something, your eyes swinging to the camera like you knew he was watching.

Just because he can, Vox manipulates the camera to zoom in on different parts of your body- your shapely ass and plush thighs, the curve of your breasts in the low cut top you wore, the fine details of your actual hands as they take a glass that Vel pushes into them. There was no part of you that he didn’t find to be flawless, no expanse of skin that he didn’t constantly want under his mouth or around his cock or inside of him in return. It should have been frightening, the intensity of the feelings he had regarding you, but it wasn’t- and you seemed to share the same sentiment from what he could tell.

He watches you the rest of the time that you’re helping Velvette, a nervous eye on the clock as it gets closer and closer to when date night was supposed to begin- to his disappointment, by the time you tossed the empty glass your friend handed you away, it was looking like you’d be getting a late start on the job you had agreed to for one of his business buddies. It was something that you did together now- he took over cameras and security measures to keep an eye on you while you worked on the off chance that something went wrong, and in return he was treated to the absolutely insatiable succubus that you became when you successfully completed a heist. You were usually raring to go beforehand as well, a quickie against the apartment door or letting him eat you out spread across the kitchen counter before you left giving you an extra boost of adrenaline that make you faster and more efficient.

It’s not about the money anymore- Vox provides everything that you could possibly need and more, and his pride prevents him from letting you give anything back besides the occasional trinket or snack. Its some drive inside of you that he can’t fathom and doesn’t have the heart or desire to try to subdue- it’s what brought you to his attention, what brought you to his apartment that night so many days ago, just part of who you are. He wouldn’t change that for anything.

He watches you sidestep Valentino by phasing through a wall and he grins- the moth had given up his personal vendetta against you a few weeks ago when he realized that you weren’t entirely useless to the Vees in terms of efficiency, even if he was disappointed that you wouldn’t let him make a video featuring your ghost hands. You had a sharp wit and a kinky mind that helped his scripts a bit, so the moth accepted your presence with a vaguely offended air and left it at that.

He doesn’t bother turning off the security footage he had recorded, the bits of video that featured your tits and ass and your smiling face as you laughed at something Vel had said, and he meets you at the door with his arms crossed and the grin he knows you love taking over his screen. “You’re late, doll,” he says, and you wave your hands at him as you hurry into the apartment.

“I know, I know,” you say, “but Vel needed some helping hands- you know I can’t leave her hanging.”

He lets his screen show what he has pulled up on his main monitor- the security footage of you in the studio. “Oh, I saw,” he leers, and he doesn’t miss the faint blush that takes over your cheeks. “You know I can never see enough of you- gotta keep those cameras on.”

You make a dismissive noise at his words but still give him a smile and a sweet little kiss before you rush off to the closet, stripping as you go. He falls onto the bed and watches you with hungry eyes as your skin is bared, his mouth filling with whatever his screen produced instead of saliva, and by the time you’ve wiggled into the skintight suit you wore for these jobs his cock is aching, begging to be sunk inside your tight heat even if he knows there’s no time for that.

The look you give him as you put your new earpiece in- the one hooked directly to him, bluetooth signal centered on his mainframe- makes him groan internally, escaping the confines of his thoughts and out into the air when you lean across the bed to tease him by licking across his screen where his lower lip would be. His hands come up to touch you, greedily cupping your ass with eager hands and slipping his tongue into your mouth for a proper kiss. He pulls away too soon to mumble against your lips; “I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”

He can see in the way that you pout that you want to protest, say ‘fuck it’ to the job and the client that hired you for it. Your eyes are dilated and half lidded, hot breath fogging his screen as he pulls back properly, putting some much needed distance between the two of you if you plan to get the job done tonight- and he knows you want to do that just as much as you want to fuck him, which makes stopping (and his cock) even harder. “And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.” 

You roll your eyes when he delivers a slap to your ass as you concede his point and step away from the bed to shift through the wall- he brings up his surveillance situated through Pentagram City to keep an eye on your journey, knowing that when you return with the stupid red duck from the Princess’s shitshack his reward was going to be a lot sweeter than whatever money you made from the client.

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

Reacting to You Hurt

For @aliceneedsphalis

Alastor

Hell is an awful place and you’re used to it at this point. It didn’t bother you when someone tried to jump you and managed to stab you while you got away. What did bother you was the fact that now you were late.

Every week you and Alastor met up sometimes at your place, other times his radio station, occasionally on his bedroom balcony, and every so often you’d venture out to a restaurant.

You met up to catch each other up on the going ons in Overlord business (in his case) and general populace activity (in your case)

You were grumbling to yourself as today you went to his radio tower.

They’d ripped one of your favorite tops because of course they did and now it would be stained!

You were not looking forward to the patching up process and cleaning but hey, it is what it is, right?

You knocked on the door and were let in by a shadow.

Alastor had beginning to get worried. It was unlike you to be late but he felt his worry fade when the knock sounded.

He stood and spun around. Arms extended in welcome. They immediately fell.

His eyes went to dials instantly.

He patches you up quickly and efficiently but his touch is unintentionally harsh before he gets ahold of his anger.

He begins to interrogate you for a description of the person who hurt you and a name of you have it as well as where it happened.

When you insist it’s nothing, his head turns, neck popping at an unnatural angle.

“Nothing? My dear, you’re injured. This is not a mere scratch at that. You’ve been stabbed and contracted or not, you are a soul under my protection. No one messes with what is the radio demon’s.”

Alastor is not above using intimidation tactics to try to get this information.

If he gets it, God can’t save the person who hurt you.

A special broadcast for a sinner who never stood a chance.

He will torture this person for hours on end.

Rosie

You blamed yourself, honestly. This was Hell. The extermination was not that long ago. Turf wars were rampant. You should have stayed home.

The molotov that went off nearby was not at all your fault but you felt like you should have known better than to go out on the streets the day after the extermination ended.

You stayed home until the turf wars died down but you did go home and stay home until they did right after.

For the most part, yeah, it hurt like a bitch but it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle.

The skin would regenerate. The main thing was making sure you didn’t need to regenerate completely.

A couple days later, you managed to work up the energy to go to Cannibal Town.

You opened the doors to Rosie’s Emporium.

“Oh my lord! Sweetheart, what happened?!” “I went out after the extermination, got hit in some crossfire. I was wondering if these clothes were salvageable or am I going to have to plan an order for something new?” “Sit down!” “Yes, ma’am.”

She would redo all your bandages properly, put some top notch cream and ointments on you and send you with some to go home with.

Rosie may want to know who did this so she can go have a very stern chat with them but she cares about you being well more.

She does bring goodie baskets and restocks your entire wardrobe while she temporarily has you on bed rest.

She will fuss over you and you won’t have to lift a single finger because if she’s not there, one of her most trusted cannibals are and they are trusted because they will report back if you’re being stubborn and refusing their help.

She will check up on you every day until you’ve completely regenerated all your skin and you’re good as new.

Vox

When you got caught in the middle of a drug deal gone wrong and your eye got damaged, you did not want the annoyance.

You see, people would think that having your eye merely damaged would be better than having it gone but. . .

Your vision was iffy at best. You would get constant headaches due to the imbalance of vision. (I am not projecting with my imbalanced as hell prescription, fuck off.)

It just was not worth it so you went to a friend and got the entire eye removed.

So instead of a week’s worth of headaches and pain while going about your day to day, you got off with two weeks without an eye until it regenerated. May be twice the time, yes, but a well off trade.

At least, you thought so until you explained this to Vox when you brought him lunch the next day.

“You did what?!”

He was looking at you like you’d done something completely irrational. Claws digging into his desk, eyes wide and spiraling, a snarl curled on his face.

“Okay, okay, okay, let’s start off small? Who did this to you?” “I don’t know, some stranger on the street.” “Some stranger on the—“ *cue maniacal laughing—“okay. Where did this happen?”

You don’t go to work for the next month. Vox makes sure of it.

You are being pampered and holed up in the V Tower. You can’t leave by yourself ever again. He’s getting you a bodyguard.

“No, doll face, I’m not budging on this. You don’t have to talk to them. Hell, you don’t have to interact with them at all but you are not leaving alone.” “You think I don’t know you stalk me?” “Clearly I don’t do it well enough with my attention divided!”—his eyes would spiral before he takes a deep breath and places his hands gently on your shoulders—“I’m not budging so look over the resumes and choose one or I’ll do it for you.”

Yeah, say bye-bye to your privacy, not that you had much anyway but you did use to have the illusion of it. If you’re with the Vs or in one of their buildings, the bodyguard does not have to be with you but somehow they always know when you try to sneak somewhere yourself.

At least you have someone to carry your bags for you when your shopping now.

Vox absolutely checks all of his security footage and finds the people who hurt you.

Let’s just say they don’t regenerate for. . . a long while.

some random poly yandere staticradio soulmate stuff because it literally will not leave my head

- just picture you've been dead for a small handful of months and you're at home in your apartment just absolutely exhausted when suddenly not one but two soulmate strings appear on your hand and within like 2 minutes you've got someone knocking on your front door. It turns out the two of them were about to have some sort of spar or fight or competition that put both of them in the area at the exact same time and they both meet you for the first time together

- I like the idea that since they just show up at your apartment, it becomes a trend of you coming home and they've already let themselves in, and it's always both of them. They're very open about not trusting leaving the other alone with you so you're just constantly getting double exposure from two super insecure looney tunes dudes who are constantly competing with each other

- i keep gravitating towards a Reader who is, not quite hostile to them but is immediately overwhelmed and turned off by their presence because you're still very overwhelmed about being dead and being stuck working in Hell's rat race and meanwhile these two grown men are coming on to you VERY strong and it's just a lot of pressure very suddenly, so, you're basically very up-front about telling both of them you don't want any sort of relationship right now, and they just. Are convinced it's simply a matter of warming up your heart and letting you get comfortable with them, so they're just CONSTANTLY showing up unannounced trying to get you to go out and do things with them. They're always trying to sneak behind each other's backs and see you in private but for some suspicious reason you're never alone with one of them for very long before the other seems to catch wind, almost as if they're also spying on each other--

- given that in this scenario, the boys are being extremely pushy and Reader is kind of actively telling them to fuck off, I keep thinking of Reader deciding the only way to get rid of them is to make them hate you or think you're annoying and you start deliberately playing favorites back and forth to make them fight. You're just so overwhelmed with... everything, your life, your death, your trauma, that part of you just says "let them kill each other in a rage, rhen you won't have to deal with either"

... but like you'll go to mock and insult and tease them and they think it's cute??? They think you're funny??? You could literally look Alastor directly in the eyes as you verbally unload an entire magazine of psychological ammunition against him as you tell him exactly what he comes off as to you, how he's clearly playing a character, how it's so obvious he has some deep trauma eating away inside of him, a deep hole that can never be filled, and you could say some things that could CUT deep for anyone else, and he'd, bark out laughing in your face. "Aren't YOU quite the spitfire!! I see you've got a silver-tongue!" and he's almost PRAISING your attempts to get under his skin???

You say things to these two that would make other people either cry or viciously beat your ass and they'll just, all but coo at you. Aren't you so smart for being able to pinpoint their deep insecurities and dig into them in the most hurtful ways :) you could rant at Alastor about how "if his mom gave half a damn about raising him, he wouldn't be in Hell" and he'll somehow mansplain manipulate malewife you into traumadumping about your own mom

-when you want to make them argue or pit them against each other, you rub in one of their faces all the things you have in common and like to do with the other one. Alastor could be absolutely verbally tearing Vox into pieces and have him almost reduced to tears and you'll stroll through the room looking for your hair brush, "at least I'll be having sex with him" and then casually strolling back out while Alastor is SCANDALIZED. Drunk Reader calling out to Alastor, "noooo, don't bully my dorky little TV, he's got that dick I need 😋"

Vox is annoying you? You make direct eye contact with him as you sit yourself down next to Alastor and turn to him, "you know, beau, I was hoping you and I could go out to a jazz club and I could learn a little about dancing! Does that sound like it could be fun?" and of course Alastor now gets the delicious opportunity to spend time with you and know he's engaging his rival to no ends

-Just, it eventually just getting really petty and cute tbh. You're cooking and Alastor takes a taste and makes some comment you don't like and you just holler over your shoulder, "Vox honey, my FAVORITE soulmate, do you want me to fix you a plate to eat?" and he's all but racing into the kitchen to see you (and watch Alastor fume). Everyone is constantly pissing each other off but the second like, Vox is showing up at your front door alone and Alastor is running suspiciously late, it's not just one of you that starts getting concerned. It's like. A lil family almost. Of nasty people annoying the shit out of each other and then getting drunk and making out

- ok... ok... this is a very specific scenario but i keep thinking about it and I just.... imagine if after being kind of cold and distant or like reluctantly affectionate with them for a prolonged period of time you eventually are a direct witness to like.... you basically happen to be out in public at the right place at the right time to see Valentino putting his hands on Vox. And you just kind. Explode. And have some sort of powers of your own where you're just basically pummeling Valentino and helping Vox to his feet, and his face is all busted up so maybe he can't even see or hear properly but he knows you're there and it's you helping him up and, you wind up either helping him all the way back home or you run into a random radio somewhere while Alastor is on the air and you just start bawling and begging for his help. He just immediately ends his broadcast and comes to find you totally sobbing over Vox as you try to keep all the falling pieces of his screen in place, cutting your fingers on them, not knowing how to fix him, IF he can be fixed, you just don't know--

Vox holding your hand even though he can't talk while Alastor helps take charge and calm you down. He takes the both of you somewhere else, somewhere safe, and after leaving you waiting alone for a while, they both reappear. Alastor has helped repair Vox, but with an older model of television, either the same kind if not the exact same one that Vox used to have. He can repair this guy, but he refuses to touch modern tech. Besides, maybe he thinks this suits Vox better anyways, and, you're just so relieved he can talk and see again, and there wasn't much you could have done to help on your end, so, you're just, crying with relief that he's all better, basically bear hugging the both of them as you apologize for how mean you've been and, you'll give them a chance, it's just really a lot right now, and maybe if they gave you some more space--

but they'll refuse, because for one, why would they spend any time away from you, that's stupid 🥺 like deadass them just giving you the most genuine smiles and just "give you space? why would we ever do that? You're our soulmate" in just like, the most heinously loving way possible 😭❤️ you're gonna constantly wake up with one or both of them standing over you and you're going to LIKE IT--

Vox asks you to come up with an UNsafe word. Something he can say when he wants you to go crazy

Killer | Vox x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, dead bodies, established relationship (married), HUMAN VOX, NSFW (18+), p in v, slight breeding kink but otherwise vanilla for my first 'smutty' Vox writing, reader is heavily implied to be female, Valentino existing

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Your husband came home from work to find a rather interesting sight in his living room. . . Made him wanna do a thing or two. . . Idk 💀✨

A/N — I couldn't not use this gif — I love it. I don't mention him by name until the end because we don't know what his name was while he was alive. . . It could've been Vox in both, but I'm not taking chances, so I used sweet little names instead. . . He also has dark hair and blue eyes in my mind. HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS ONE 💕 (I drew/made the MDNI banner myself — tell me you're proud of me. . . I'm gonna pretend I didn't write this when I wake up tomorrow 😭, but hopefully someone does like it)

Blood dripped from the hand of the body that was carelessly draped across the coffee table, the metallic smelling crimson staining the white rug below.

You stood firmly, hands on your hips as you stared at your husband, who, in turn, stared at the body as if it would suddenly disappear if he looked away.

"You killed her." He stated rather plainly, a glint in his eyes as he turned to look at you in all of your glory — bloodied hands, stained apron tied around your waist, hair tousled, and ripped pantyhose. . . It was odd for him to see you so unkempt. Had he not been your childhood friend turned lover and husband, you might have had something snarky to say in response to his obvious comment.

You hummed, assessing the expanding puddle on the new rug that nearly costed a fortune. "Yes, it seems I have."

"Did she deserve it?"

"They always do." You replied nonchalantly, removing your hands from your hips as you walked towards your husband — silently thanking whatever higher power that the blood on your hands had dried. You pulled him down by his tie and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Welcome home, my love. . . Dinner will be done shortly. It's your favorite."

"I'll handle the mess while you finish up." Came his response.

You smiled as a thank you before going off into the kitchen to wash up the last couple dishes and stir the pot of stew that had been cooking low and slow all afternoon.

Your beloved husband entered the kitchen a bit later, hands coated in dirt and blood with the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He stood there for a moment watching you as if you were an animal of prey and he was an apex predator. Your breath hitched when that glint of something familiar returned to his electric blue gaze.

Within a moment, his hands drenched in sticky blood found your face, gently caressing it and leaving trails of the viscoelastic fluid behind as he brought you into a rough yet passionate kiss.

His hands trailed down your clothed body until they reached your thighs. . . With his fingers grasping the plush flesh, he hoisted you onto the counter top.

"Are you certain you want to do this before dinner, Honey?" You asked breathlessly just as his hands fell to his belt buckle, hastily undoing it with the metallic clicks of the silver colored mechanism, the leather falling from the silvery confines.

"No time like the present, Doll." He replied, practically ripping the button from the hole of his perfectly tailored suit pants.

"Carry on, Darling." You hummed.

He bunched up the skirt of your dress before reaching just below and ripping a large hole in the already destroyed pantyhose, all to gain access to the already soaked cotton fabric beneath.

The singular piece of fabric that separated your pussy from the warmed air of the kitchen.

"All mine. . ." He muttered in awe, rubbing the pad of his thumb up and down the large spot of arousal that had formed since he arrived home. You couldn't help it. Your husband was a fine specimen.

You whined at the need for something more; your darling husband only smirked before completely ripping the beloved pair of panties away, tossing them to the floor — he always said he'd get you more, and he always did. His thumb returned, slipping through your glistening folds before gravitating towards the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Need you, Honey, please. . ." Your sweet voice cut through the silence with a whimper at the end — that was all it took for your husband's restraint to fly out the window.

He freed his bulging cock from the confines of his pants and boxers, immediately lining it up with the entrance. With your silent nod of approval, he slowly slid it into your sopping wet pussy.

He grunted as he bottomed out, paired almost perfectly with your moan as you adjusted to his sheer length and girth — it didn't matter how many times the two of you fucked, it was always like the first time.

After a moment he began thrusting and your sweet noises filled the room along with the sound of skin on skin. One of his hands held on to your waist so you wouldn't slip, and the other held on tightly to the counter.

"Taking me so well just like you always do, Doll." He grunted in your ear, his pace picking up as you moaned his name like a prayer on the lips of an angel, your fingers laced in his soft, dark hair.

It wasn't very long before the coil within began to build with pressure until it finally snapped, bringing you to a much needed orgasm that caused you to release your hold on his hair and clench around him, unintentionally milking your husband's cock. He came, painting your insides white, yet his thrusts didn't cease until he felt the very last drop enter you.

He then pulled out slowly, using his thumb to push his seed back inside of you as it tried to escape. "Gonna be a good mother one day, Doll."

"I'll try to be," you replied breathlessly before plastering a smile on your face, as if you didn't get railed in the kitchen by your husband, where your neighbor could've seen. "Dinner?"

"That sounds good, Doll. . . Let's get you cleaned up."

Sixty or so years later. . .

"Remember that time we fucked in the kitchen with a dead body two rooms over because the ground was frozen, so we couldn't dispose of it properly?" You questioned casually at dinner.

Vox looked up from his plate, a smirk falling onto his face. "Which time?"

"Well, this just got interesting." Valentino muttered into his drink, looking between you and Vox.

"When I killed Dorothy, of course."

"Can you not talk about your serial killer sex shit at the table!? I'd like to eat without the imagery." Velvette groaned, sliding her plate back slightly.

"Would you rather listen to Val talk about all the positions he's had his new favorite toy in?" Vox questioned.

"Hey!" Valentino whined.

Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fiancé Edition

Fiancé!Vox x gn!Reader

A/N: MY BRAINROT IS BRAINROTTING OKAY I JUST NEEDED TO DUMP THIS STUFF SOMEWHERE AFTER SEEING ALL THE WIFEY ALASTOR AND LUCIFER STUFF- LIKE I LOVE THOSE TWO BUT LEMME YEET IN MY BELOVED SAMSUNG TV NOW YALL- THIS COULD MOST LIKELY BE OOC COMPARED TO CANON BUT LIKE- LET ME DREAM I WANT THIS FLATSCREEN SO BAD P L E A A A S E-

A/N: This little thingy would have both an SFW and NSFW portion, mostly because I'm a depraved little shit and I am downbad for a 7ft bipedal television with issues-

SFW HEADCANONS:

Now first off, y'all probably would've been dating a long long while before this mans would pop the question.

I feel like he'd know that he wants to marry you, but he's so unsure of it plus he's concerned about how that would affect you in all of it.

Like, oh great if this gets out suddenly you've got one of the biggest targets on your back because you're the technology overlord's fiance and soon to be wife/husband.

As if you hadn't already when you both started dating-

Vox is a perfectionist so I'd imagine he would try so so hard to get everything completely flawless for his proposal.

But nothing goes his way that day, none, nada, zilch-

That's just his luck, totally not because it got screwed over by a certain radio demon for shits and giggles.

But he ends up asking you anyway, though a bit indirectly because it slips during his irritated rant.

"I can't believe they managed to spill wine all over me back there! All over one of my best suits as well!"

"Hun, we could always send your suit to the professional cleaners. It's okay! We can always just go someplace else next time too-"

"No! That- ugh! I had all these plans today and they were just ruined! I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for when I was going to propose to you-"

"You were gonna what-"

Vox immediately shut up once he realized his screwup then.

So much for keeping it a surprise!

That's kind of how you ended up with a diamond ring on your finger that night.

And that's how Vox ended that really stressful day with an extremely satisfying night.

He ditched work the next day and just spent it being all over you.

Yes he admires the ring on your hand from time to time, this man just stares.

You can betcho ass that ring is expensive as fuck too.

Like as if this man didn't kiss your hands enough, that new accessory marking a new chapter of your afterlives just makes him do it more.

He's actually kinda housewife material if you squint-

This man can cook and clean, and as a bonus he's filthy stinkin RICH.

Bro I need me one of these holy shit-

If he wasn't clingy enough before, oh boy get ready for this.

He will always have an appendage on you at all times, a hand on your lower back, your hip, in your hand-

Or he'd just have you in his lap while he worked on stuff in his office.

Also, Vox being possessive as all hell if someone so much as just stared at you too long-

Please that goes straight up to 1000% when you agreed to wear that ring.

You guys planning to get hitched doesn't stay secret for too long though.

With Valentino and Velvette sticking their noses in Vox's business as a daily pastime anyhow-

Hence why a lot of sinners started shipping you two.

And oh goodness the ship wars.

Sometimes Vox wishes the internet wasn't really connected to his brain-

The magazines went wild with that one too-

Cuz imagine, the richest and the pride ring's probably most esteemed bachelor-

Aside from Lucifer probably, Vox's marketing and PR team are insanely good at their jobs-

Was now off the market and due to get hitched with you.

I'd imagine even if Vox doesn't post anything on social media, you or Vel would-

Literally like those married couples on TikTok or something with a whole bunch of cute shit.

You can best believe the most cracked out shit happens while you're both engaged though.

"Oh this is Vox, he's my ex-boyfriend."

"... You have got to stop saying that. I'm their fiancé."

You did not stop saying that.

Actually you wouldn't stop saying that even when his title upgraded to husband.

Not that Vox cares, your shenanigans were what caused him to gravitate towards you in the first place.

And until now they're what keep your relationship fun and interesting.

"Hey hubby, ooooh~ you're looking like the hottest thing in all of the pride ring despite having just rolled out of bed."

"Hahaha, good morning to you too doll."

It doesn't register what you called him at first until he's had his coffee and then it clicks.

You play it off attempting to be coy until he replays the video of you greeting and calling him that on his face.

His. Face.

Sneaky little shit that's what-

He doesn't really respond to any other petname now, you've dug your grave.

"Vox."

"Vox."

"Vooooooxxxx-"

"What? What?? What do you want???"

"Can you peel this orange for me?"

"Really? That's it? Why don't you peel it yourself?"

"Because it tastes better when you do it?"

He does it eventually, hell if he's in a particularly good mood he'll even feed you.

That's always kind of how it goes when you ask him for things.

If it's something you want/can buy though?

You're already in possession of his credit card, just get whatever tf you want HAHAHAHA-

He's still a busy bastard though so it's not really much different from how it's like when you guys were dating-

But he genuinely tries to balance his work a little better to spend more time with you.

This man is such a workaholic though you end up having to drag his ass out of his office to rest anyway.

Again, nothing new from when you were just dating.

You guys jokingly throw around your soon to be marital titles in private.

Vox kind of feels like a kid in a candy store when you do, just giddy and excited for what's to come.

Not to mention he now has a partner in crime when he riffs on Alastor!

He'd be over the MOON if you just joined his chaos.

The radio demon probably wouldn't give a shit, he's just built different like that-

You both get so comfortable that you almost forget that you have a wedding to plan and set a date for.

Until Velvette asks about it and you're both just: "Oh. Right."

Your fiancé's schedule is so fucking packed though it was nearly impossible to.

This guy was going to work himself to death before you could tie the knot lmao-

But eventually you both got a date and venue settled, so that was one step closer.

NSFW HEADCANONS:

Okay so like, I know sinners can't actually copulate unless you're Lucifer but that's besides the point-

And Vox isn't really a family man at all-

But boy oh boy if he didn't have it before-

This man would have an insane breeding kink after you both got engaged.

This man wants to see you stuffed.

Literally doesn't matter if you're riding him or he's just impaling you on his cock-

This guy just wants to fill you up so bad.

I'd also think that you guys would be screwing around a lot more often after he popped the question-

Something about emotions constantly running high and dopamine being one hell of a drug.

I think Vox is a switch, so I'd also imagine he'd be more inclined to let you dom him every now and then.

Or when he just wants to be a bratty little shit please go ahead and tame him, he likes it.

You can kind of get away with more stuff when you're both engaged.

Like tease him a whole ton and he just bites hook, line and sinker.

It's already gotten to the point where the power in the tower would die often enough that Velvette herself has gone through some crazy lengths to cockblock her colleague.

Speaking of, Vox would probably use you as a stress reliever after work if you let him-

Like he will just fuck you stupid until all you say is his name because this guy is addicted to hearing it.

Or he'd let you fuck him stupid until he's so far into sub space he forgets about his shitty day.

Cuz if it's rough, it's rough with you two.

But on the gentler side-

It's just as addicting and if not probably a little worse.

Though you would probably be the one taking initiative/domming whenever you both have gentle rounds.

I'm all for Vox being able to switch some of his parts cuz he wanted to/can.

So y'all have fucking choices when it comes to wrecking this idiot.

Like a multiple choice exam, literally shotgun the fuck outta those answers like you deteriorate his mental.

And consequently the entire city's power grid.

"GODDAMNIT! VOX! (Y/N)! NOT AGAIN!!"

hey! 🤭 i'd like to request an 18+ vox x fem reader please

reader is super flirty and just keeps fucking with vox all day until he can't take it anymore and drags her back to his room

The Temptation Tango

Vox x fem!Reader

NSFW WARNING HERE! MINORS DNI!

A/N: I am both terrified and insanely happy that you requested something from me ahdjsbdjksbs- like I love reading the fics you put out so seeing you in my inbox almost had me yeeting my phone hahahahaha! I hope I did this one justice, not quite used to writing smut yet but I think this turned out okay? I think this could be considered my practice before I actually write the smut interlude I have planned for my series? It's also WAAAAAY LONGER THAN I HAD ORIGINALLY PLANNED- but more content I guess HAHAHAHAHA-

A/N: Anyways, I hope you readers enjoy what I wrote- and as always, happy reading!

The fact Vox could even focus at all on his work right now was no short of a miracle.

Especially when you've made it so difficult for him to think of anything else aside from you.

Since the morning, you've provoked and teased the man relentlessly.

Fleeting kisses, dirty whispers, even some discreet groping-

But you never let it escalate, playing this game of push and pull where the scales only threatened to tip over.

A teasing glance here and there, a provocative message when you knew he was looking at his phone-

You were dancing so close to the fire but not quite enough to get burned.

And Vox was almost at his wits end dealing with your teasing.

But when you came sauntering back into his office, the paper work he had currently been dealing with quickly became an afterthought.

After all, you were always on the forefront of his mind.

"Hey Vox, you busy~?"

You tone was honeyed, like an intoxicating drug that had him addicted.

The overlord you were dating had already gone through his fair share of lovers and relationships.

Still, none were quite like you.

At least not in the conventional sense.

Nobody had ever been able to have him locked in just like you have.

Hook, line and sinker this man fell for your charms.

And you didn't intend to let him go.

Vox put his pen down and looked up towards you, crossing his arms and leaning back against his chair.

"I was busy working, but it seems like you won't really let that be."

His gaze on you was no short of intense, causing a heated charge to almost trade between the two of you.

It was kind of expected when you had been absolutely toying with the man all day.

But that didn't mean you were willing to stop playing and give in.

You just smiled, walking up to his side and placing a kiss on the corner of his screen.

"Not really, just wanted to make sure you weren't overworking."

"Well, with you around it's like I can barely work at all my dear."

"You make it sound like I'm an unwelcome distraction."

"Not in the slightest, you're just twisting my words."

You quickly dodged when Vox tried to grab you, giggling when you heard him growl and his fans kick to life.

It was always the game you played, tempting and taunting your lover at multiple intervals in the day-

Never once allowing him to do anything but just return your kisses.

You tutted at his impatience, moving behind his chair while teasingly stroking the side of his screen.

His grip on the armrests of his chair were surely going to leave marks, not that you cared.

"Nope~! you're going to have to wait until tonight remember~?"

"At this rate, you're going to be in for one hell of a night sweetheart."

A shiver ran down your spine at Vox's low tone, whenever he said something like that you knew he meant it.

You swung around to face the overlord, your hands playing with his tie while you soaked up his lustful gaze.

That just made you all the more eager for later.

With a smirk on your face, you leaned down close enough to his screen that you were nearly kissing.

"I'm counting on it~"

You whispered in a sultry manner, exchanging a chaste kiss with your boo and again quickly exiting the room before he could actually do anything.

Vox was really overheating in his office chair, a hand raised to cover his face in an attempt to just calm down.

He really wouldn't be able to just go back to work like this.

The next time you decided to bother him was when he was in his monitor room, except-

He wasn't there?

Well, he was- you just didn't see him.

You looked up at some of the large screens curiously, ads, statistics, surveillance, there was just so much all around.

How Vox even began to manage everything was beyond you.

"Looking for me doll~?"

As soon as you spun around, his arms were on the desk at your sides, effectively caging you in place.

Your faces oh so temptingly close to each other.

Still, instead of being surprised-

You merely smiled and giggled.

"Yeah~ I was getting a little bored so I came to see you~"

"So you came to mess with me again? That's a little mean dollface~"

"Mhm, I don't think it is when you like it~"

A shiver ran down your spine when Vox growled, his hands moving to their rightful place on your hips.

His office and rooms were often set at frigid temperatures to stop anything from overheating, and still you could feel the warmth just emanating from your lover.

It was cute how worked up he got whenever you both had this push and pull.

Made things interesting, electrifying even.

All the more when he suddenly snatched your lips up in a kiss.

You softly moaned and threw your arms around the overlord's neck to pull him closer.

He was just so hot, so rough, so hungry for you-

It was almost greedy how much you loved and treasured his attention.

Both in the wholesome sense and this...

More addictingly carnal kind.

You gasped when one of his hands started not so gently groping your ass, indulging in any more of this would probably have your clothes torn and on the floor in seconds-

You knew how Vox worked, and how his claws were both a turn-on and a straight up atrocity when it came to your wardrobe.

Not that it mattered when he would eventually buy you the same thing he ruined anyway-

You broke away from the kiss to catch your breath, biting back a whine your lover started leaving kisses elsewhere all over you.

"Hun, we're not fucking in your office."

You gently moved Vox's face away from marking up your skin to actually look at you.

Taking note that his hands stopped their wandering and grabbing when you did.

He looked a little annoyed for being interrupted, but the flame of desire still ran rampant in his gaze.

Only just barely controlled.

"The room is soundproof and the door is locked, I don't care."

"I care. Either bedroom now or you wait until tonight."

It probably took less than a minute for Vox to fight himself on which was a bigger priority at the moment.

You getting a taste of your own medicine or his work.

Fuck it-

He didn't want to go to that meeting anyway.

You yelped when Vox suddenly picked you up from where you had been propped up against his desk.

Your arms instinctively looping around his neck again caused a smug grin to appear on his screen.

"Aww, clingy much? Don't worry dear, I won't drop you."

You just rolled your eyes at his comment, bracing yourself when Vox predictably zapped you both through some cameras to his designated floor in the tower.

His ability was... something to get used to, that's for sure.

Especially rematerializing, that was just a doozy.

But you didn't have time to continue fussing over about it when his lips were once again locked on yours.

If there was one thing you really couldn't fathom before you started dating-

It was how a man with a flatscreen TV for a face could be such a damn good kisser.

So much so that you'd always feel loopy or high after or during one of your make out sessions.

The overlord maneuvered you both to his bedroom with rehearsed ease, soon pinning you against the soft mattress.

You let out a whine when his hips pressed against yours, the tension was palpable but the friction was nowhere near enough.

Not to mention the heat between you two just continued to grow.

"Teasing me all day, pushing all my buttons, you've really been naughty haven't you doll~?"

His low tone only made the wet feeling between your legs more pronounced.

You squirmed against your lover in mock defiance, knowing that it would only add to his rampaging arousal at the moment.

Vox immediately swooped in to attack your lips once more, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his claws ran up and down your body.

So you should've expected it when you suddenly heard the slicing and tearing of fabric.

Not that you had any time to voice your surprise or displeasure when your mouth was totally preoccupied.

The overlord couldn't help but rut his hips against yours impatiently, the needy sounds you made only served to spur him on.

After a whole day not being able to do anything to you?

Oh he was going to cash that in now.

After a small while, Vox pulled back to marvel at his handiwork.

Your outfit was mostly torn at the crotch and the sides because of his clawing, your face flushed and lips swollen from the rough treatment.

Not to mention the messy state of your underwear.

The overlord merely chuckled, deftly untying his bow then undoing his belt.

One of his hands always remained on you however, groping and rubbing as if he couldn't get enough.

You softly moaned when you felt the tent in his boxers press against your most sensitive spot.

"S-stop teasing already!"

"Mhm~ don't you know dollface~? Patience is a virtue."

He grinned and peppered kisses up your shoulder and chest, using one hand to shove his boxers down and align himself with your entrance.

"Ah- Vox please!!"

"Please what my dear? Use your words~"

"Oh please- please fuck me!! I need you so bad~! Vox~!!"

Your tone caused something to snap in the man.

Because before you knew it, he'd torn your panties off and was thrusting into you with wild abandon.

Seems like even his self-control had finally run out.

You could only helplessly grab his shoulders and hold on for the ride, moaning and babbling incoherently as your lover went to town on you.

"NgGh, so tight a-zZzST -and good for me~"

The overlord wasn't actually in a much better state himself.

All the sensations and stimuli running through his systems were already bordering overload.

But you were both so engrossed into your lovely tryst that neither of you noticed the lights started flickering.

Your nails were digging into the fabric of his coat while your back arched towards him.

The sight of you like this was absolutely intoxicating, like a drug he didn't ever want to stop taking.

His name fell from your lips like a symphony, accompanied by your whines and moans from his rough treatment.

God you were amazing.

"Vox~! Mmph~! Vox I'm close~!! I- ah!"

He didn't relent his pace, instead angling his hips to repeatedly hit a place that he knew would make you see stars.

After all, you were already making him feel a little too good.

But he'd be damned if he finished before you would.

You gasped and cried out from the onslaught of pleasure, your mind clouded from it all as your lover continued his ministrations.

"That's it love~ that's it, go on~ come for me."

Just like that, the boiling knot in your gut had suddenly snapped.

Your vision going spotty as you screamed out his name, your inner walls suddenly clamping down as well at the crux of your climax.

The sudden spike of pleasure to his systems caused Vox's screen to glitch and buffer slightly before he abruptly finished inside you as well, his claws digging into the sheets by your hips hard enough that they've torn.

The overlord soon collapsed on top of you not long after, the two of you an entangled mess of limbs that were too spent to move.

You lazily wrapped your arms around his back, taking deep breaths to try and steady your racing heart.

Likewise, Vox gently just drew random patterns on your skin while his fans were whirring obnoxiously loud trying to cool his overheated systems.

"Hehehe~ if I'd known you'd do something like that, I would've started playing with you sooner."

"I wouldn't be against it, but you're biting off more than you can chew here love."

"Hm? I don't know about that. How about a round two then?"

You giggled when you saw the same mischievously competitive gleam in the overlord's eyes.

This had always been a fun little push and pull between you both, and it probably always will be.

"Oh my dear, you didn't even have to ask."

HEYYYYYY i LOVE how you write vox! could i request vox x a reader who gets really flustered, like for example their after their first kiss theyre jumping and yelling “YESS” (if you havent done this before!) ignore this if you dont wanna write this, have a good day!! <3

Flustered Fanatics

Vox x Easily Flustered!Reader

A/N: This is so cute ajdoskdjalsb it reminds me of that one post I saw about Vox accidentally letting a soundboard audio play because he got caught off guard or was extremely flustered- I'll be patterning this similarly to that hahaha- sorry if it's got heavy shitpost energy.

A/N: Also, I just wanted to write a simpy/soft Vox for once- he and reader can both be flustered sweethearts ahdksjdkskshdks- Hope you enjoy this anon! Happy Reading!

It was just another busy day in the office for Vox.

Broadcasts, meetings, advertisements and promotions-

Just a regular cycle in a day of his life.

Though one look at his internal clock had him cringing.

It was just noon and he already felt done with the day.

His large signature grin easily slipped off his face at the realization.

Not that he cared enough to maintain it as he set foot into his monitor room.

Letting out a sigh, Vox sat down in his chair while glancing around the multitude of flashing screens.

Some of them were for surveillance, others were just broadcasting statistics.

He felt a genuinely fond smile work it's way onto his face seeing the remaining idle screens.

It was a picture of you and him during your valentines outing.

He didn't even have time to properly pose for the camera before you snapped the image.

Vox chuckled at the memory, his bewildered expression frozen in time with your lovely eager smile.

How it became his monitor idling background was probably your doing, but he had no complaints.

Seeing you at any point in the day made it immensely better, no matter how monotonous or stressful it was.

While he could probably always just pull up a camera or something to look for you, it was a sensitive topic you both bickered on from time to time.

You liked having some privacy, and pretty much hammered it into your lover's head that he really really shouldn't spy on you.

Even if it was for noble reasons-

Which you doubted-

You forced Vox to relent and only check up on you using his monitors after a quick text or memo.

He really only gave in because he couldn't say no to your puppy eyes.

You did placate him by wearing a watch he could track at all times.

Your vitals, your location, just the basic things to make sure you were safe and nothing more.

It actually reminded you of a pet collar but you brushed it off since was just a precaution.

Aside from that little issue, Vox couldn't help but miss you as he sat alone in his monitor room.

The overlord found you unabashedly cute, from all your mannerisms to your personality.

It was downright adorable in his eyes and he often found himself wanting to protect you.

With just the way your entire face lit up when he came into the room-

How your smile could immediately improve his mood-

Even the fact your hugs could recharge him better than any amount of coffee or energy drinks ever could.

Vox was absolutely enamored by you, and it often showed with his sweet gestures as well.

It also didn't really help that you were also just so easy to tease.

The overlord often found himself doing nearly anything just to get a reaction from you.

Sometimes a brief kiss to your knuckles-

Other times a surprise gift or cuddles-

Just anything from his end could leave you looking like a tomato.

Not that he minded of course, it just added more to the list of things he loved about you.

Your relationship together was just so... different compared to what Vox was used to.

No yelling, no fighting, and he definitely didn't need to be tense all the time.

Then again, the way you treated him was always so nice compared to everyone else.

He still couldn't believe you had fallen for someone with the likes of him.

Hell, he still couldn't really believe you were down here with him.

Actually no he could, he'd seen you kill before to protect Velvette and it was really freaking sexy.

You were so flustered to have been caught all bloody and disheveled though.

Vox once again just laughed at the memory, he was stuck buffering from the image you locked into his head for days.

To be fair, that happened only a week after you both started officially dating-

And it was pretty much going at a snail's pace the more Vox looked at it.

Not that he minded, whatever kept you happy.

Though... had he even been able to properly kiss you at all?

No, kisses on the cheek or forehead don't count.

Neither do the ones on your knuckles...

Vox immediately went through his memory banks trying to fish out any possible time he'd actually kissed you on the lips.

As the number of files dwindled and he kept drawing blanks, the overlord grew worried.

How could he have overlooked something so important?!

Before he could do anything about it though, he was immediately called to deal with another one of Valentino's tantrums.

Ugh... he'd definitely have to make it up to you somehow.

Fortunately though, he didn't need to go far, finding you waiting by the elevator doors like you were just about to go up.

Masking his pleasant surprise, he made his way over to you.

"(Y/N)? I thought you were going be busy today, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly... busy? I really just wanted to make you something so I spent all morning making lunch for you!"

Vox genuinely wanted to melt on the spot.

You proudly showed him a neatly packed blue lunchbox decorated with the VoxTech logo and some heart stickers.

The happy smile on your face was so contagious even the TV overlord nearly returned it on reflex.

He couldn't be so publicly soft though, so he just kept up his signature telecaster grin despite the fact he was not to secretly overheating.

"You didn't have to dollface, really."

"Well I wanted to, I can and will dote on you as much as you dote on me!"

Vox couldn't help himself at that point but grab you by the waist and pull you into a kiss.

Yes, a proper on-the-lips kiss.

Your eyes widened and your face burned from the embarrassment but you eagerly returned your beloved's affection.

After the initial shock subsided of course-

Vox then took the lunchbox from your hands with a pleased smile before walking off.

Despite the fact he wanted your first kiss to be more special-

He really couldn't stop himself at the time when you were just being so adorably domestic.

It was way too soon to wife you up- hoooooh no-

His fans whirred loudly as he walked off, screen overheating and glitching ever so slightly from his overbearing embarrassment.

Meanwhile, you kind of just stood there with a rosy face processing everything that just happened.

But when it finally clicked, a shit-eating grin just erupted on your face.

"YESSSS!!!"

You excitedly jumped around and giddily swung your arms.

It earned you a bunch of odd looks from the other personnel and staff but you couldn't care less.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest from happiness and excitement.

Really, if making him food was all it took for him to kiss you like that-

You would gladly do it all over again!

Vox had hid behind a nearby corner in the hallway to compose himself before he heard your scream of delight.

It had confused him at first, then he peeked out to check and nearly crashed his systems.

You were just engrossed in your own little celebration because he properly kissed you and it was the most adorable thing Vox had seen all day.

He really couldn't stop the dopey grin on his face from forming anymore.

You were really just too adorkable.

A/N: Lololol I probably enjoyed writing this more than I should've but it was just so cute hahahaha, I don't know if I'll write a pt. 2 for it or not but feel free to continue requesting or just dropping in ideas! Hope you guys enjoyed!

HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANONS (if u want :3)

I don’t request anything most of the time from anyone so I sincerely hope I’m doing this right lol

Anyways! I was wondering if I could get a Vox x (s/o) reader where Vox yells at his (s/o) in a heated fight and he ends up scaring (s/o). Like maybe she doesn’t like confrontation or has this thing about being yelled at and usually ends up crying and avoiding whoever yelled at her for quite some time? Idk. Lowkey just in the mood for angst 😩

Thank you!

Synopsis: vox and you argue 😔 he’s not very demure

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Breaking Point

The apartment was unnervingly quiet. You sat on the edge of the couch, knees drawn to your chest, fingers gripping the fabric of your sweater as if it could anchor you to the present moment. The TV flickered in front of you, but the show had long since faded into background noise, overshadowed by the tension between you and Vox. Tonight was supposed to be a peaceful evening, a chance for you both to unwind after the long, stressful week. But the calm had shattered, replaced by a storm you hadn’t seen coming.

It had started with something small—an offhand comment about how little time you’d been spending together lately. Vox had been busy with work, his streaming schedule packed to the brim, and it had left you feeling more alone than usual. You didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but the words slipped out, and the conversation took a turn you weren’t prepared for.

“You know it’s not like I’m avoiding you, [Y/N],” Vox had said, his tone strained as he tried to keep his frustration in check. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. It’s not fair to guilt-trip me for that.”

“I’m not guilt-tripping you,” you replied, your voice softer than you intended. “I just… I miss you. It feels like we’re drifting apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Vox sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of exasperation. “What do you want me to do, huh? Just drop everything? You know how important this is to me.”

“I’m not asking you to drop everything,” you said, feeling your own frustration rising. “I just want to feel like I matter, like I’m not just another obligation on your to-do list.”

And that’s when things started to spiral.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Vox snapped, his voice suddenly sharp, his eyes narrowing as he glared at you. “Do you think I don’t care about you? Everything I’m doing, I’m doing for us—for our future. But it’s like you don’t see that. You just see the time I’m not spending with you.”

You flinched at the harshness in his tone, the words stinging more than you expected. “I never said you didn’t care,” you muttered, looking down at your hands, trying to steady your racing heart. “I just wish you’d talk to me, let me in instead of shutting me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” Vox shot back, his voice rising as his frustration boiled over. “But I can’t be everything all the time. I’m exhausted, [Y/N]. And it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

His words echoed in your mind, each one like a slap to the face. You felt a lump forming in your throat, the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought them back, refusing to cry. Not now, not in the middle of this.

“I never said you weren’t enough,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the effort to hold it together. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Vox. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Fix what?!” Vox threw his hands up in exasperation, his voice loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the walls. “There’s nothing to fix, [Y/N]! I’m doing the best I can, but it’s like you don’t even see that! You keep pushing, and pushing, and I’m at my limit!”

His voice boomed through the apartment, the anger and frustration spilling over in a way you hadn’t seen before. You’d had disagreements in the past, sure, but nothing like this. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking at you—it brought back memories you’d tried so hard to bury, memories of being yelled at, of feeling small and helpless.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath quickening as you tried to stay calm, but it was no use. The fear was too overwhelming. Your hands began to shake, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, as if that could protect you from the storm raging before you.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your ears. You wanted to explain yourself, to make him understand, but the words got stuck in your throat, your mind clouded by panic. You felt the tears building again, but you blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay.

Vox took a step back, running both hands through his hair in a gesture of helpless frustration. His shoulders were tense, his entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap. “You don’t get it, do you?” he muttered, his voice still tinged with anger, though quieter now. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have everyone depending on you, to have the weight of all this on your shoulders.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that you did understand, that you saw how hard he was working. But the fear kept you frozen in place, your voice locked in your throat. You could feel the tears start to spill over, running down your cheeks in silent streams. You quickly wiped them away, but the action was too late—Vox had already seen them.

“[Y/N]…” His voice softened immediately, the anger evaporating as he saw the fear and hurt in your eyes. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to comfort you, but you flinched, pulling back instinctively. The movement was small, but it was enough to make him freeze, his hand hovering in the air between you.

“I—I need to go,” you choked out, the words tumbling from your lips before you even fully realized what you were saying. The walls of the apartment felt like they were closing in, the air too thick to breathe. You needed to get out, to put distance between you and the confrontation that was ripping you apart.

Vox’s eyes widened in panic as he saw you begin to retreat. “Wait—[Y/N], please,” he pleaded, taking another step toward you, but you backed away, shaking your head.

“I can’t… I just… I need some space,” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you turned and fled down the hallway. You could hear Vox calling after you, the desperation in his voice breaking your heart even more, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t face him—not now.

You stumbled into the bedroom and shut the door behind you, pressing your back against it as if that could keep the world out. Your legs gave out, and you slid down to the floor, burying your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body. The fear, the pain, the overwhelming sense of helplessness—it all came crashing down on you at once, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Vox’s footsteps, slow and hesitant as they approached. He paused outside the door, and for a moment, the only sound was the quiet hum of the apartment, punctuated by your ragged breathing.

“[Y/N]…” Vox’s voice was soft now, filled with regret and sorrow. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Please, let me in… let’s talk about this.”

You pressed your hands harder against your ears, trying to block out the sound of his voice. You wanted to respond, to tell him that you understood, that you didn’t blame him, but the words wouldn’t come. The fear of confrontation, the fear of being hurt again—it was too much.

When you didn’t answer, Vox let out a heavy sigh, the sound filled with so much pain that it made your heart ache. “I’ll give you space,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. “But please… don’t shut me out forever. I love you, [Y/N]. I’m sorry.”

You heard him turn and walk away, his footsteps growing fainter until the apartment was silent once more. You stayed there on the floor for what felt like hours, your body numb, your mind replaying the events over and over again. Eventually, the tears stopped, leaving you feeling hollow and exhausted.

When you finally found the strength to stand, the apartment was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the TV still playing in the living room. You slowly opened the door and stepped out, your eyes scanning the empty space for any sign of Vox.

On the kitchen counter, you found a note written in his familiar handwriting. You picked it up with trembling hands, your heart clenching as you read the words:

“I’m sorry. I’ll give you space. Please, just… come back to me when you’re ready. I love you.”

You clutched the note to your chest, the tears threatening to return as you took a shaky breath. You knew Vox didn’t mean to hurt you, that he was just as lost and overwhelmed as you were. But it didn’t change the fact that he had, and it didn’t make the fear go away.

It would take time—time to heal, time to rebuild the trust that had been shaken. But you hoped that, with that time, the love you shared would be enough to mend the wounds left behind. For now, all you could do was take it one day at a time, holding onto the hope that you and Vox could find your way back to each other.