#hazbin vox x reader

[hazbin-writing-and-nonsense]

How Vox Handles Feelings for Someone

{Spoiler Alert: He doesn’t handle it well.} 

Vox likes to pretend like he’s aloof and isn’t easily swayed by emotions, but that’s a fucking lie. This man falls fast and hard even if he makes an effort not to show it. 

Once he takes an interest in you, he cyberstalks you, frankly. Though, he does take care to cover his tracks. But… He inadvertently blows his cover when talking to the other V’s. Velvet and Valentino were talking about their latest employees' looks. Vox hadn’t been paying attention (probably checking up on you) and when asked who he thought was the most attractive. He absentmindedly said your name before immediately realizing what he said when Velvet asked who he was talking about. 

While Val was teasing Vox about his slip up, Velvet looked you up and started poking fun at Vox though she admitted you were pretty. After this, Velvet and Valentino keep making up excuses for you to show up and even more excuses for you and Vox to be alone. 

Now, Vox is a smooth talker even under pressure, so you would likely have no idea that he’s internally screaming. Until, of course, Val decides to rib him by flirting with you and Vox flips his shit. Vox is yelling and glitching and you have to pull him out of the room while Valentino and Velvet laugh. 

Once alone with you, it only takes a minute or two of you soothing him for him to calm down and apologize to you for losing his temper. Realizing after this incident that Velvet and Valentino weren’t going to let him just stew in his feelings and pine from a distance, he finally decided to start courting you properly. 

{I’ll do what it’s like dating him later.}

[voxsremotec0ck]

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞.ᐟ

⋆｡ﾟYou, new to Hell and clueless about everything, pass them on the street and give them a polite smile and wave ﾟ｡⋆

— Lucifer, Alastor, Vox, Angel Dust

Lucifer watches as you shine your sharp teeth at him in a genuine smile with furrowed eyebrows. When he noticed you waving, he awkwardly waves back with his cane and watches you walk away. After his years of isolation, his name has definitely lost a lot of weight, but still sinners don’t just casually wave and smile at him. How odd.

Alastor meets your smile with his own, although it’s his default expression, it does grow at the sight of you. What was someone so cheery and naive doing in Hell? And smiling at him of all Demons, like he was just any other sinner? Oh you might just be a perfect asset for Charlie’s hotel.

Vox flashes you his signature showmanship smile, but pauses when you just walk past him. Normally when someone smiles and waves at him, they want something. Either information about VoxTec or the Vee’s plans, he was always selling something. Yet you waved and kept walking, like you didn’t even know who he was. It was interesting to say the least.

Angel Dust is used to attention, wanted or otherwise, so random Demons waving and smiling at him were normal. What wasn’t normal was the lack of malice behind your smile, and the fact that you kept walking instead of trying to buy him for the night. He watched you continue down the street and wondered just how soon Charlie would snatch you up.

First time writing for these characters so I hope it’s okay

[silkythewriter]

Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!

Warnings!:non!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)(｡•́︿•̀｡)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime

❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

“Each time I find myself

Flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race!”

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!

Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?

At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!

He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.

He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!

He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!

Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience

Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.

This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.

Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.

Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.

Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!

Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too

He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.

He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.

He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.

He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥

He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out

NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.

Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!

Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.

It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.

And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.

He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.

He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.

But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!

Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course

Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.

If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always

Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!

Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.

He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet

He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. （；へ：）but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… (￣▽￣💧

He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!

Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!

Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.

He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!

You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( �� )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.

Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!

Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’

[6esiree]

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 (𝐈𝐈)

Summary: You get dared to call Vox and Adam daddy.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly NSFW, angst, canon death. Beware of Adam’s part. Idk how I wrote all that out of a game of truth of dare, but I did and I don’t feel like rewriting it </3. Anywho, MDNI!!!

Vox:

You had a life outside of the Hazbin Hotel, working at the entertainment district in Pentagram City. The casino you were employed by wasn’t exclusive, per se, but it might as well have been as it was a hot spot for overlords and other high-profile individuals. That’s how you became acquainted with the Vees, even though your shifts didn’t coincide with their visits half of the time. Tonight was an exception, however, and Velvette was in a particularly good mood.

Well, it actually took a few cocktails to get her there, but you weren’t complaining. She took a seat at the bar and mindlessly scrolled on her phone, only opening up when the alcohol settled in—nothing unusual. You were mentally prepared to have her talk your ear off about shit you couldn’t care less about, but she proceeded to surprise you by asking if you’d like to play a game.

Truth or Dare, Velvette suggested, leaving you wondering if you’d heard her correctly. It was easy to forget that everyone in this damned afterlife was normal to some extent, even an overlord like her. When she quirked a brow at you, motioning ‘Well?’ with her hand, you shrugged and said yes, never anticipating that she’d take the game further than most people did.

Velvette asked you to go first, so you did, glad that she settled for truth. You sucked at this game, and the last thing you wanted to do was frustrate her as you pondered endlessly over a dare. Anyway, as you whipped up an old-fashioned cocktail for a patron, you hummed, asking her to tell you something interesting about Vox. The man was a mystery to you, only ever uttering pleasentries instead of engaging in an actual conversation with you.

Velvette sipped at her drink, rubbing her chin in contemplation before shrugging and ultimately telling you that he wasn’t who he appeared to be on the surface. Vox was charismatic, yeah, but he was also weak. Blinking, you slid the cocktail to the patron, taking your money and shooing them away. Everyone knew that Vox valued his image, Velvette continued, and that he’d do anything to preserve the persona he had meticulously crafted since he manifested in Hell, but there were some things that were simply out of his control.

“What? Look, I’m not trying to call you a liar, but that’s kinda hard to believe,” You responded honestly, “What do you mean, ‘Out of his control’?”

“Trust me, he’s absolutely pathetic,” Velvette said, leaning over the counter to whisper to you, “Regarding the rest, you can find out yourself—that’s if you aren’t a pussycat, of course.”

You peered down at Velvette, knowing damn well that if you chose truth, she’d never let you live it down. Her fingers tapped expectantly against the counter, waiting for your response as you bided your time by cleaning the dirty glasses you had neglected earlier. Truthfully, you were afraid of what she’d make you do, but you eventually sighed and muttered dare.

“I knew you had it in you!” Velvette praised you before adding the next part. “Go and call him daddy, I dare you. You’ll see how he’ll crumble like that,” She snapped her fingers, “When a babe like you calls him daddy.”

You dropped your head and carded your hand through your hair, immediately regretting your decision. How the Hell would you get around to calling one of the most influential and powerful overlords daddy, exactly? As you raised your head to look at Velvette, you hoped that she had your back if he reacted poorly.

“What if he—“ You started, but then you were interrupted by one of your coworkers.

Velvette sat back down, annoyed, but also too drunk to complain. Anyway, they asked you to whip up some cocktails for the other two Vees, practically begging you to deliver it to them, too. When you quirked a brow at them, asking them why you should do their job as a waiter, they started to ramble on about how they had accidentally pissed off Valentino. Ah, fuck. Not like you’d say no anyway, especially considering what Velvette dared you to do.

Instead of giving them a verbal response, you waved your hand in dismissal, letting your coworker know that you had them covered. They thanked you profusely before scurrying off to tend to another table nearby, leaving you scowling as you got to work. Velvette watched you work your magic, assuring you that everything would be ‘Fiiineee,’ giggling when you rolled your eyes.

“Look, if I’m wrong—which I’m not—I got you covered,” Velvette added, watching you step out from your post behind the bar, drinks in hand. “Oh, wow! I’ve never seen the other half of you,” She gasped, but you ignored her.

You were so fucked—that’s the only thought that circulated your mind as you leisurely made your way to the VIP section. The bouncer at the entrance, a friend of yours, regarded you with curiosity when you stopped in front of him. ‘What’re you doing here?’ He inquired as he stepped aside to allow you access into the area, but you told him that you’d tell him later, feeling slightly anxious upon spotting Vox and Valentino.

The two overlords were lounging around on opposite ends of their booth, Valentino characteristically flocked by attractive sinners as pink smoke wafted around them, while Vox sat entirely alone, an annoyed look on his face as one claw tapped incessantly at the empty glass in his hand. As you approached them, you made sure to straighten your back and put on a friendly face.

“Hey! Uh, I got a Sazerac and a Lemon Drop here—whose is what?” You announced, holding out the drinks as you tried not to dissolve under everyone’s stares.

“Ah, I didn’t know you waited!” Valentino tilted his head, practically undressing you with his eyes, “The Lemon Drop es mío, cariño.”

Typical Valentino, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel uncomfortable by him. Unfortunately, you got used to his advances, the only one who could instill some semblance of uneasiness within you being Vox. He interacted with you the least out of the Vees, after all, but you never bothered wondering why until now.

“Apparently someone pissed you off?” You said, huffing as he enveloped your hand in his while handing him his cocktail.

“Don’t even remind me,” Valentino scoffed theatrically, “This establishment is full of idiotas—aside from you, of course. Say, you should wait for us from now on.”

Goosebumps littered your skin as you turned around to hand Vox his drink, realizing that he had been watching you the entire time, his eyes unashamedly following your every move. He didn’t shy away when you met his stare, either, which made you doubt Velvette’s words even more. Fucking Hell, why did you agree to play such a stupid game?

“Well, you’d have to talk to my boss about that, you know,” You continued the conversation, trying to quell the anxiety in your stomach. “The last thing anyone wants to do is pay someone two salaries.”

“Oh, cariño, I can easily arrange that,” Valentino chuckled, taking a sip from his cocktail, “Mm, yeah. I’ll definitely be talking to your boss tonight.”

And that was the end of your conversation with the moth, especially as his attention was stolen by one of the sinner’s next to him. Now that you had to face Vox, you never wanted to cease to exist more than ever. In fact, you hoped the next extermination would take you if things went wrong as you handed the man his Sazerac, his signature smile consuming most of his screen as he accepted it.

“Is everything alright with you?” Vox asked as his claws brushed against your knuckles, savoring the way you jumped at his touch, “You seem nervous, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment, watching how he took a sip from his drink. You would have recovered quickly if he hadn’t thrown a pet name at you, the way he uttered sweetheart with that voice of his making you feel slightly pathetic. But you had to get over yourself, especially because you could feel Velvette watching you from afar, waiting for you to do something.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine!” You said, shaking your head with a smile. “What about you?”

Vox blinked, confused. It was now or never, you guessed, taking a seat on his thigh and draping your legs over him. His body tensed underneath you, never anticipating that you’d do something so bold, but he didn’t push you off.

“Uh, why wouldn’t I be alright?” Vox asked after a few seconds had passed by.

When he didn’t protest to you being on his lap, you placed your hand on his chest, but it was mostly just to steady yourself. However, you couldn’t help but notice how solid he felt under your palm.

“I don’t know—you look sort of pissed off, I guess?” You said, feeling how he tried to steady the rise and fall of his chest, the act fruitless as his heart rate gave him away. “Velvette’s at the bar, Val is…being Val, and you? Well,” You gestured to the free space around him, “Do I even have to say anything?”

Vox rolled his eyes, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he slithered one of his arms around your waist, holding you against him as he leaned forward to place his drink on the table in the center of the booth. A gasp escaped your throat—you couldn’t remember the last time someone held you against them like this. He was making it challenging to maintain your composure, especially as his hold remained on you as he sunk back into his seat.

“Look, I’m usually here outside of my own volition, alright?” Vox finally said, his free hand moving along with his mouth.

You hummed, making sure that he heard you. His response was total bullshit, you thought. There was nobody paying enough attention to him to ensure that he stayed.

“How? You can come and go as you please.” You said, speaking without thinking, “Everyone is too busy doing their own thing to even care that you’re still here.”

Vox’s eyes widened as you said that, and for a moment, you feared that you had overstepped. You were never so openly blunt, not even with Velvette, and you got along with her quite decently. On the other hand, this was your first real interaction with the man, so you dearly hoped you hadn’t upset him.

“I—shit—I’m sorry,” You quickly said, “I didn’t mean to overstep, it’s just—“

“Oh, sweetheart, if I’m upset, it’s only because you’re correct,” Vox interrupted you, his eyes relaxing as he gazed at you. “Now, it’s my turn to give you a hard pill to swallow—how can you apologize for being so blunt when you sat on my lap without my permission?”

You paled at his question.

“Hey, I asked you something first,” You quickly countered, which made Vox chuckle.

“You know, I’m starting to believe that we’re both here for the same reason,” Vox said, his free hand settling on your knee. “What do you think?”

If you had understood what Vox was implying, he was here for you. He tagged along with Velvette and Valentino to admire you from afar, and that baffled you, especially as he always appeared so confident, so eager to get what he wanted. Maybe that’s what Velvette meant when she told you that Vox wasn’t who he appeared to be on the surface, however, you still had yet to figure out how that made him weak.

Anyway, while Vox was correct, it was only to a certain extent. You had never thought about the man in any other way besides superficially, only sticking around him because of what Velvette dared you to do; but now that Vox had you in his embrace, his claws flexing against your hipbone, you decided that he was starting to grow on you.

“Hm, I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of admitting that you’re right,” You replied slyly, leaning in so you were chest to chest with him.

Vox stared at you with a large, toothy grin, pleased by your words. As you peered down at him, all you could think about was how perfect of an opportunity this was to turn the tables on him.

“But you’re correct…daddy,” You whispered, reaching up to trail your finger across his screen.

As soon as you called him daddy, you felt Vox’s screen warm up under your touch—so that’s what made him weak, you thought as you observed the way his face fell at such a simple word. Truthfully, it was satisfying to witness such a powerful man dissolve underneath you, but the feeling was short-lived. You blinked, noticing the way Vox sat insanely still. You snapped your fingers in front of him to see if he would respond, but he didn’t. Ah, fuck.

“Uh, Vox?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hi? Hey? Helloooo? Vox!”

Again, he didn’t respond. But you only started to grow concerned when the rest of his body began to warm up. Vox had a TV for a head, so maybe you had caused him to overheat? Your suspicions were confirmed when his screen suddenly turned blue, the phrase, ‘A problem has been detected and Vox has been shut down to prevent damage to his systems,’ on his screen, ‘The problem seems to be caused by the following file: Daddy.exe.’ Nothing could have prepared you for the way his length poked your leg, though.

And to make matters worse, the power went out. Great. Fucking great. Vox was hard and also temporarily out of order. At least Velvette was having fun, you thought as she howled in the background, somehow drowning out everyone else as they complained. You sighed, realizing that you couldn’t just get up off of his lap, not when you were shielding whatever dignity he had left.

So, you swiped the hat off of his head and fanned him to cool him down, even though your efforts were hardly making a difference. Meanwhile, you could hear your boss yelling in the background, ‘What the fuck happened to the power!?’ spotting her using the flashlight from the other end of the casino.

“The fuck is going on?” Valentino asked, standing up as he illuminated the area around you with his phone. “Vox, what the fuck? What’s wrong with you?”

“One moment he was normal,” You said, still trying to cool him down, “And the next he blue screened.”

Valentino took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke over his shoulder before leaning down to look at Vox. You’d heard through the grapevine that his vision was shit, and it was apparent in the way he took his time reading one simple sentence with narrowed eyes.

“The…problem…seems…to be…caused…by the…following…file…Daddy.exe,” Valentino slowly read aloud. 

You tried not to shrink under his gaze as he turned his attention to you.

“Well?” Valentino asked, quirking a brow at you as the power suddenly returned. 

“I didn’t know he’d…do all that when I called him daddy,” You muttered, hoping you hadn’t pissed off the moth. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done it—I swear.”

Instead, Valentino tossed his head back, a hand on his chest as he laughed. “I can’t be mad at una cosita linda like you,” He said, petting your head.

Thank God, you mentally sighed.

Suddenly, you heard a ‘zzt!’ your head snapping to Vox. As his body jolted upwards and his face replaced the blue screen, you stilled your ministrations. Blinking, he looked at you with an undecipherable expression, seemingly recalling what happened. You quickly put his hat back on his head, opening your mouth to apologize; but then Velvette ran up to the booth, showing all of you how she got everything on video.

If you weren’t fucked before, you certainly were now, the way Vox turned to you and grabbed your jaw after she left communicating that. “As soon as your shift is over, you’re leaving with me,” He said, leaving no room for you to refuse. “Understood, sweetheart?” You nodded your head obediently, unaware of how he was going to destroy your insides later that night, forcing you to chant the word daddy as he did so.

Adam:

Ah, Adam. The first man alive. You had the displeasure of meeting him your first Extermination Day, and God, was he full of himself. It was satisfying dodging and escaping him, hearing how he cried out in disappointment when you sought refuge in the darkest crevices of Hell’s infrastructure. “Yeah, run away you fucking coward!” You heard his voice bounce off the brick walls, your hand over your mouth as you stifled your laughter. What a loser.

You continued to fuck around with Adam, though, taking advantage of his reckless fighting style. He hated how slinky you were, the way you effortlessly slipped away from his grasp when he thought he finally had you frustrating him. By the third extermination, you started to tease him, relishing in his poorly disguised groans—a meager ‘Fuck you’—as you brushed against him or touched his wings.

Adam could have killed you a long time ago, the first time you escaped his clutches being sheer luck; but he kept searching for you, locating you with ease despite the fact that you never lingered in one specific area. You were well aware of this, so when you, Angel Dust, and Cherri Bomb were drunkenly playing Truth or Dare the night before the Exorcists attacked the Hazbin Hotel, you let them in on your history with Adam.

Big mistake on your part, especially as Angel took advantage of this information to dare you to do something insanely stupid. “Dare ya to call him daddy,” he slurred, Cherri smacking her chest as she choked on her beer. “Are you trying to get them killed?” She asked between coughs. Your friendship with her was relatively new, but she liked you too much to see you go so quickly.

“Let’s see if you’ll remember tomorrow,” You rolled your eyes, but Angel was adamant that he would. “Hey, maybe we might be able to take him down if ya distract him.”

Angel didn’t forget, and for the first time since you arrived in Hell, you were afraid of what might happen. You couldn’t care less about the dare—the people you grew to love and care for were being directly targeted, and you didn’t want to lose them. If anything, the idea of calling Adam daddy only served to spur you on, even if it would ensure your death. 

You stood alongside everybody else as the Exorcists poured into Hell from above, visibly gratified by the sight of so many sinners in one place. When Adam and Lute finally came into view, you made sure to wave at them with a smile. Lute was completely unaware of your past interactions, the scowl on her face a testament of that. Adam, on the other hand, looked oddly horrified. 

You would only face him after Alastor’s shield was broken, having slain several Exorcists by then, the evidence plain all over your clothes. Adam was strangely unfazed by this, however, seemingly too busy being pissed off by your presence when he found you behind the hotel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Adam said as he spun you around, his grip on you piercing.

You heard the moment Adam landed near you, but you gave him the satisfaction of believing he had caught you unaware. Huffing, you shook his hand off of you, pushing him back with your foot. That pissed him off. It was easy dodging his attacks, though—too easy, you realized. You quirked a brow at him as the two of you practically danced around each other, creating the illusion that you were fighting.

“Fucking hello? Are you deaf?” Adam asked, swinging at you but completely missing.

“You might as well fight with the air,” You said, but then he knocked your spear out of your grip. No big deal, your hands would do. “Seriously, what do they teach you up in Heaven?”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Adam said, lunging towards you in frustration. “Come over here, bitch—gotcha! Fucking finally!”

Never anticipating that he would pull such a stunt, Adam managed to tackle you to the ground. Fuck, he was heavy, but you’d find a way to escape his grasp. This is what you thought until he pinned your arms above your head, placing his legs on either side of you and caging your body underneath him. For the first time since he met you, you looked at him with fear. You were stuck.

“Shit, as hot as this is, it’s time for you to die, babe,” Adam said, but you knew he didn’t mean it—the second part, precisely.

“Why now?” You panted, your heart beating violently against your ribcage.

“What? What are you talking about?” Adam asked, his eyes widening as you bent your fingers to touch his hand, which were holding your wrists together. “Hey—what are you doing? Fucking stop that—“

“You could have killed me a long time ago, you know,” You interrupted him, forcing your body to relax in his grip in an attempt to appear genuine. 

Adam had a big mouth—everybody knew that. He would curse at every opportunity, the words, ‘Fuck,’ ‘Shit,’ and ‘Bitch,’ consisting of most of his vocabulary. But as he looked down at you, completely at his mercy, he had nothing to say. Not even a meager insult.

“I—“ Adam said, but that was all he had to offer.

You closed your eyes and exhaled, opening them after a few seconds. Angel’s dare echoed in the back of your mind, and you knew that you could weaponize it, but you needed to wear Adam down a bit more, his body too tense for your liking.

“Before I die, can I at least…see how you look like?” You asked, hoping it would work.

“You’re already looking at me right now, what?” Adam shook his head.

Of course he misunderstood you. 

“Behind the mask, I mean,” You specified, trying hard to be patient. 

“Oh.”

“Please?”

Adam looked over his shoulder, clearly hesitant. The fact that he was considering your request was a good sign, however, excitement blooming in your chest. After a minute or so, he turned back to you, sighing in defeat.

“I, uh—fuck, fine!” Adam stuttered, readjusting his grip on your wrists so he could remove his mask with one hand. “Don’t move, or I’ll, uh, kill you! Yeah.”

You nodded obediently, secretly curious as to how he looked like. As he held your wrists together with one hand now, Adam looked over his shoulder again, making sure that nobody was paying attention to you two. When he was satisfied, he tentatively reached up to grab his mask, his stare never leaving you.

You couldn’t help but notice how Adam’s fingers trembled. He looked so vulnerable, and that made your stomach feel a bit funny. You wanted to call him pathetic, but the way he slowly revealed himself to you squashed that urge. As much as he sucked, he was still a person, you realized, especially when his mask landed next to your head.

Your eyes darted across his face, taking in each and every one of his features. If anybody asked you to guess what Adam, the first man alive, looked like, you would have replied with ethereal. But as you took in the sight before you, he was…average, with pale skin, hazel eyes, ash brown hair, and stubble decorating his chin. Still, he somehow managed to mesmerize you.

“Are you done, uh, looking?” Adam stammered, turning away from you.

He was growing self-conscious under your gaze, and that made you feel…bad? Oh no, why did you feel bad? You noticed the funny feeling in your stomach was only growing stronger, making you nauseous. You had no idea what it was, but if you remained underneath Adam for a second longer, you feared that you’d discover what it was.

But before you could shut down whatever this was, you had to indulge yourself first, being the sinner you were. You also justified it by convincing yourself that he hadn’t been worn down enough yet.

“Kiss me,” You said.

“What?” Adam blinked, completely caught off guard.

“I said kiss me—are you deaf?” You said, throwing back his insult from earlier.

“Now why the fuck would I—I don’t want to—that’s crazy—“ Adam struggled to form a coherent sentence, nervously laughing in between his words.

“Kiss me, daddy.”

His grip on your wrists immediately loosened, shocked. You had him right where you wanted him, retracting your arms from above your head with a practiced speed, seizing his collar and bringing him in for a kiss. Adam gasped against your lips, but that was the only form of protest he gave you. Before you knew it, he had one hand buried in your hair, the other on the small of your back with the sole purpose of joining your bodies.

It was supposed to be a quick kiss, but you allowed it to progress, enjoying the feeling of Adam’s hands desperately clawing at you. Meanwhile, all he could think about was how he couldn’t kill you anymore. He was addicted to the way your lips wetly smacked against one another, your hands glued to his face and his face only.

Your body was starting to heat up, and so was Adam’s, you realized. “Fuck,” You whimpered, feeling his length poking at your thigh. When he took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, his hand cupping the space between your thighs, your mind instantly went ‘Nope.’ You were in the middle of a battle, for fuck’s sake.

“Adam, we need to—“ You said, separating from the kiss, but he just dived right back in.

You grabbed his face, forcefully pulling him away from you. Adam peered down at you with rosy cheeks and bruised lips, his mouth slightly agape as he struggled to catch his breath. He looked absolutely blissed out, even as his hand remained in between your thighs, your head falling back with a moan as he started to massage you through your pants.

“Stop!” You cried, grabbing his wrist and squeezing him harder than you should have.

“Ow—what the fuck!” Adam whined, retracting his arm. 

When he looked at you like a kicked puppy, you rolled your eyes and sat up. 

“We are not going to fuck in the middle of…this! It’s not right,” You said, trying to snap him back to reality. “Look around you, Adam!” You gestured wildly, regret immediately replacing the arousal you previously felt.

“Fuck, I’m so selfish. What if my friends are dead? And I could have saved them if I weren’t so busy—“ You stopped rambling when you noticed the expression on Adam’s face.

He looked everything but apologetic, and God, did that piss you off. You quickly collected your spear from the ground and moved behind him, holding the weapon against his neck.

“Woah! Hey, babe! You don’t gotta do all that!” Adam panicked, his hands landing over yours, albeit putting no effort in pulling the spear away from his neck. “I’m sorry—you’re right—this is wrong and you—“

“Get up,” You demanded, kicking at his feet when he didn’t listen. “I said get up!”

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it!” Adam said, but he had to stop halfway into his ascent.

The man was taller than you, so there was no way he could stand up at his full height without risking getting choked. 

“Hey, genius, I can’t get up without your fucking spear—“ He started, but then he felt the weapon abandon his throat.

“Get the fuck out of here,” You said, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

“What?” Adam asked, his brows furrowed as he processed your question. “No, I’m not gonna leave. Do you have any fucking idea what just happened?”

You turned away from Adam, feeling tears prick at your eyes. You really hated yourself for what you were about to do, but it was the only way to get him to understand.

“So? Who cares,” You said.

“The fuck? I do, you stupid—ah, sorry, I’m not good at this kinda stuff,” Adam shook his head, frustrated. “But I…care, about you and whatever just happened.”

“I was only trying to save myself,” You said, but Adam wasn’t having any of it.

“Well, shit, you have a funny way of doing it,” Adam said, rounding you as he gauged your reaction. “Do you make googly eyes at every fucker who’s about to kill you, huh? Let them kiss you and touch you the way I just did?”

Screams pierced the sky, a reminder of everyone fighting right around the corner. You didn’t have the time to argue, especially as you thought about your friends, who were out there risking their lives while you were fucking around with Adam.

“I don’t want you, Adam. Okay? Get it through your fucking skull,” You lied through your teeth, seizing his collar and forcing him to look at you. “Look at what you and your dumbass army are doing! You’re slaughtering innocent souls that are fighting for a chance at redemption.” 

Adam stuttered, a look of disbelief upon his face. While it pained you to see him that way, your words were exactly what he needed to hear. If you allowed anything else to happen between you two, you’d never be able to forgive yourself.

“But what right do you have when you’re here in Hell—“ Adam tried to counter, but you didn’t let him finish his sentence. 

“I’m sorry, but you spared me out of your own goddamn selfishness, mercilessly killing other sinners because they weren’t me. I’m not special, and honestly, neither are you!” You continued, trying not to acquiesce as you heard his breath hitch in his throat. “You’re the Adam—so fucking what? I could never be with you, and you should’ve known that when all of your wives have left you.”

You bit your cheek as you pushed Adam away, trying not to apologize as his heart shattered into a million pieces before you. He could have killed you, but he didn’t, instead opting to watch you as you turned your back on him—just like everybody else he had ever loved. Little did you know that that would be the last time you saw Adam alive. “Did ya do it?” Angel joked as you observed his lifeless body, his face falling when you didn’t laugh. “Cause ya didn’t have to, but if ya did, uh, good job?” You eventually offered him a half-hearted nod. Hell had won, and Extermination Day had been cancelled, but you felt hollow as everyone brought you in for a celebratory hug.

[redvexillum]

Chapter 1 - Crackling Silence

A/N: So, you guys voted for bittersweet/cucking Vox in my polls. I will say, I didn't get in as much cuckolding as I would like (wow, not a sentence I thought I would ever write) but, the story sort of took off without my consent. So...🤷‍♀️

SUMMARY: In a world of static and sin, who’s really tuning in? You cuck Vox, your husband, with Alastor.

TAGS/WARNING: f!reader, married to vox, vox does love reader, infidelity, non-sex repulsed alastor, alastor is in hell for a reason, soft alastor, jerk alastor, possessive, no use of y/n, vox tries, reader tries, alastor being alastor

Cold.

Not the kind that bites at your skin or makes you shiver beneath the covers, but the kind that creeps inward, quiet and invisible, until you're numb. Until you can't feel anything but the aching absence of warmth.

You didn’t let it in. You couldn’t. Because the moment you acknowledged that hollowness, you were certain it would swallow you whole. And you wouldn’t survive that. 

Not again.

“Vox…” you whispered, curling closer to him in bed, craving connection. Your hand slipped over his chest and drifted up, fingertips brushing the sharp edges of his collar. Slowly, they hovered near the top button, aching to undo it. 

But his attention was elsewhere.

Vox lay beside you, propped slightly against the pillows, the glow from his screen-face painting shifting colours across the sheets. His expression wasn’t really there—just a still image of static and a loading icon in the corner. His eyes flicked rapidly as he scrolled, absorbed in whatever latest disaster needed cleaning up.

He didn’t even look at you.

A hand came up lazily to still your fingers. Not harsh, not cold, but detached. 

Programmed.

“Not tonight, doll,” he muttered, voice glitching faintly at the edges from exhaustion. With a groan, the screen dimmed slightly as he flicked through the final updates. “Fucking Val turned the club scene into a bloodbath again. PR’s eating me alive.”

He tossed the phone toward the nightstand without care. The screen on his face shifted into a dimmer setting, now displaying the VoxTek logo with a sleep-cycle timer ticking in the corner.

You looked at him, watching the flickering pixels shift in gentle pulses across his face. Occasionally, he gave you that vintage smile—the one he wore when you first met, all charm and 1930s swagger—but not tonight.

Not in years.

It had been fifty years since you reunited here in Hell. A full lifetime, and then some. You’d stood beside him through fire and fame. You had been his before he was this.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked quietly, leaning in, desperate for purpose, for acknowledgment. For a role beyond ornamental.

He didn't respond right away. Just static. Then his screen blinked to a grainy old test card—the kind you used to see when the broadcast ended.

Finally, his voice came soft and practiced: “You just sit pretty, baby.” A chuckle—recorded, reused, hollow. “You’re already doing more than enough.”

Then he powered into standby.

No goodnight kiss. No shared moment. Just the gentle flicker of the logo bouncing across the wall like a ghost.

You lay there stiffly, your hands close to his chest but not quite touching. The synthetic hum from his body filled the silence.

He had work tomorrow. Meetings. Branding. Control.

You had… silence.

Loneliness wasn’t loud. It was this: a life of luxury with no meaning.

He’d given you everything money could touch. But not himself. Not really. And now, lying in bed next to a man with a screen for a face and a heart somewhere buried under circuits and ambition, you realized—

You had never truly left the mortal world.

You had just found a prettier kind of purgatory.

Still, you smiled, mechanically. 

You closed your eyes.

You were lucky. You were loved.

You were fine.

After everything, he loved you. He cared for you. That should have been enough. What more could you possibly want than a love like his, steady and unshaken through decades of sin and silence? The chrome wedding ring on your finger glinted under the warm lights of your home, a promise etched in silver. Proof of his devotion. Proof that you belonged to each other.

Your days bled into one another like paint smudged on canvas, soft and indistinguishable, a blur of sameness stretched out across eternity. 

And you told yourself it was alright. 

You told yourself this peace, this routine, was happiness. 

You told yourself you were content.

Until he arrived.

Until your calm was disturbed, your still waters rippled by a crimson figure whose grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. The moment he entered your home, your world turned on its axis, and you didn’t even realize what had shifted until it was too late. Until you found your heart slipping, quietly and traitorously, into someone else’s hands. Not your husband’s.

It all began like any other quiet afternoon. You sat perched on the velvet chaise, a tabloid in hand filled with celebrity gossip you barely skimmed. The headlines screamed scandals and drama from Hell’s elite, but you only half-read, half-cared. The TV murmured in the background as the latest anchors recited tragic news and manufactured outrage. You had your nails buffed to a shine, your hair pinned and curled, your outfit carefully chosen. Everything about you was polished, pristine, perfect. Just the way Vox liked it.

You were doing what he always asked of you. 

Sitting pretty.

Then came the sound of the front door unlocking. You stiffened in surprise. He was early. He never came home early. Your heart fluttered, the weight in your chest lifting with unexpected joy. Quickly, you stood, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from your dress and fixing strands of hair that were already in place. You felt a rush of warmth bloom in your chest.

“Honey?” you called, your voice lilting with anticipation, lips pulling into a bright, genuine smile.

Vox smiled in return, arms open in invitation. You stepped forward, eager, quickening your pace. But you stopped short.

There was someone else with him.

You straightened instinctively, composure settling over your frame like a mask. Just as you had been taught. You folded your hands neatly and lowered your lashes with practiced elegance.

“Hello,” you greeted softly, your tone carefully polite.

The stranger behind Vox stood tall in a striking outfit composed of deep reds and faded blacks. His coat had frayed edges, worn with time and travel, and in his gloved hands he held a microphone staff. His hair was a sharp bob, red as dried blood with black-tipped ends, and two small tufts rose from his crown, shaped almost like ears. Black bones curled slightly above his head like little antlers. His grin stretched wide, showing off yellowed teeth, and the single red lens of his monocle glimmered under the chandelier light.

“Why, hello there!” he greeted with a voice unlike anything you’d ever heard. It crackled and echoed, layered with static, like the old radio sets from the living world. His tone was cheerful, but there was something beneath it…something off, something familiar.

“Doll, this is Alastor,” Vox said, resting a hand gently on your shoulder before placing a formal kiss against your cheek. “He’s going to be my new business partner. You’ll be seeing him around more often.”

You nodded, lips curving politely. “I see.”

It didn’t really matter. You were never part of his business world anyway. Partners came and went, most of them names you only learned after they’d made themselves too familiar with your liquor cabinet or your living room furniture. Still, you had asked Vox once to introduce you, just so you wouldn't keep being startled by unannounced guests like Velvette or Valentino dropping in unexpectedly.

Better to know the devil at your door than mistake him for a stranger.

“Now, why don’t you rest up, doll, while I have a word with him,” Vox said with a practiced grin, his hand trailing lightly down your arm, the gesture as gentle as it was distant.

You would rather not rest. That’s all you ever did.

Rest. Wait. Watch.

You longed to stay just a little longer—to be near him, to catch whatever scrap of warmth he still offered. But before you could even open your mouth to protest, another voice interrupted.

“Oh, come now, old pal,” Alastor chimed in cheerfully, his tone dancing on the edge of mockery. “It’s not every day I get to see the Canary in the flesh, haha!”

You blinked—and somehow, he was standing right beside you, his grin wide and sharp. His eyes, red as dried blood, narrowed as the black slit of his pupils thinned and dilated like a predator sighting prey. He stared into you, and something cold and feral coiled deep in your stomach.

The name struck you like a slap.

Canary.

You hadn’t heard that name in decades. Not since…

“Y-you know my stage name?” you asked, your voice barely more than breath, cracking with surprise and disbelief.

“Why, but of course!” Alastor laughed, spinning his cane in a slow flourish. The smooth movement clashed against the creeping unease in the room. “You rose to fame quicker than a bullet in a speakeasy back in our day, didn’t you? A little starlet with lungs made of gold.” He turned to Vox, eyes gleaming. “Right, old chum?”

You saw it then. The flicker. The slight tightening of Vox’s smile, the ghost of irritation flashing behind the glass of his screen.

“Right,” Vox echoed, the word stiff and brittle as ice cracking underfoot.

Alastor tilted his head just slightly, his expression curious, taunting. “I must say, I’m surprised, Vox. I would’ve thought your lovely wife,” his voice purred on the word lovely, while his hand slid along the small of your back—subtle and hidden from your husband’s view, “would be part of your little entertainment empire by now.”

Vox laughed, short and sharp, a sound too pointed to be sincere. “No,” he snapped, his screen dimming for a moment, the glitch almost imperceptible. “She’s… frail.”

The word struck you in the gut.

“Oh?” Alastor cocked his head further, and you winced at the crack of vertebrae echoing like a gunshot. His hand, unnervingly steady, remained on your back. His grip wasn’t firm, yet it lingered—a reminder. A question. A threat.

You should have moved. Should have stepped away. But your legs refused to obey. The air felt too thick, as if you were sinking into tar. You weren’t sure what was happening anymore, only that something in the room had shifted.

The tension curled around you like smoke, choking and invisible.

“The Canary is dead,” Vox hissed, his tone venomous, as if even the name tasted sour on his tongue. He turned his head slowly toward you. “Right, doll?”

Your hands twisted together in your lap, knuckles paling. His meaning was all too clear.

You nodded, quickly, too quickly. “Th-that’s right.” The lie stung as it passed your lips. “I—I retired a long time ago. I wasn’t really that talented to begin with.”

Your smile cracked. It felt glued on. Plastic.

Because if you had been talented—truly talented—you wouldn’t have been an embarrassment. Vox wouldn’t have needed to shield you from the industry, from the spotlight. You wouldn’t have vanished from the headlines as quickly as you appeared.

If you had been more than a novelty… maybe Vox would still want you. Need you. See you.

But you weren’t.

You weren’t enough.

“What a shame,” Alastor murmured, and for a moment, his voice lost its playful lilt. There was something soft beneath it. Almost mournful.

Your shoulders tensed as you dared glance up at him. His red eyes were glowing faintly, pulsing like coals in low firelight.

“I still listen to your debut,” he said, almost in reverence. “The one where you blended jazz with that uptown swing. Haunting, really.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

No one had spoken of your music in years. No one remembered. Not even Vox.

But Alastor had.

There was a beat of silence… then warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading slowly like light through cracks in cold stone. You hadn’t felt it in so long. Not this flutter of being acknowledged. And that feeling? It mortified you.

Your cheeks flushed hot, and you quickly ducked your head, letting your hair fall forward in a curtain to hide your reaction. This wasn’t right. That warmth came from the wrong man’s words, spoken while your husband stood only steps away.

Vox snorted, the glow on his screen face flickering with humour. “Please,” he scoffed, “the future is now. Everyone knows EDM and trap music dominate the scene.”

Alastor tilted his head, unconcerned, and replied in a tone as light as air. “You do enjoy your little mechanical contraptions, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Vox said, puffing up with his usual showmanship. His voice grew louder, filled with that signature Vox-brand flair. “It’s the future! And now that you’re on my team, we’ll take over all of Hell, mark my words!”

You drifted out of the conversation like a balloon loosed from its string. You no longer felt present. That lingering hand on your back—Alastor’s—felt too intimate, too foreign. Quietly, you shifted away, the movement small, barely perceptible.

Your fingers wrung together as you searched for something, anything to say. “C-could I get you both something to drink? Tea, perhaps?”

“Coffee would be lovely, dear,” Alastor responded immediately, his tone syrupy and polite.

“Coffee for me too, baby,” Vox added, his screen flashing with a soft pink hue. “And those cookies you baked the other day? They were delicious.”

Your heart leapt. “Y-you tried them?” you asked, voice lifting with pure delight.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly. “Anything you make is the most delicious.”

A smile burst across your face, warm and genuine. “I’ll get them right away!”

You hurried to the kitchen, joy bubbling inside you. You were never a natural in the kitchen—Vox knew that—but you had worked so hard to learn. For him. You’d married him when you were alive, yet fate had robbed you of the chance to live as his perfect wife. So now, in this eternal second chance, you wanted to give him the life he deserved. To be his soft place to land. To make his burdens easier.

You poured the water into the kettle, the soft sound of it filling the silence. The scent of roasted beans hung in the air as you reached for the coffee grounds, heart still dancing with joy… until a soft crackle stopped you.

The unmistakable sound of static.

You turned around, instinctively clutching the edge of the counter. Alastor stood in the doorway, one foot already inside the kitchen.

A shiver crawled along your spine.

Still, you smiled—pleasant, practiced. “Hello… may I help you?”

Alastor strode inside like he owned the room. His fingers trailed lazily across the counter, collecting invisible dust. He glanced at his fingertip, then turned toward you, closing the space between you both until barely an inch remained.

“I thought I could lend a hand,” he said, his voice a murmur of mock innocence. “Old Voxy sounds a little… busy, doesn’t he?”

Even from the kitchen, you could hear Vox’s voice carrying from the other room, sharp and strained with frustration. Probably another call with Valentino. He always left Vox in a sour mood.

“There’s no need,” you said gently, your smile holding despite the unease growing in your stomach. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“I’m more than comfortable right here,” he said brightly. His tone was cheerful, but there was something off about it, like laughter hiding a snarl.

He stepped just a hair closer. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the subtle static in the air that followed him like smoke.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured. “It’s not every day I get to see the Canary in the flesh.”

His grin stretched wide. Wider than it should. The edges of his lips pulled far, slicing through his cheeks with that too-sharp smile.

Your breath hitched. Somewhere deep in your chest, something began to unravel.

“W-were you a fan?” you asked, voice hesitant and low, like a bird afraid to sing in the presence of something much larger. You hadn’t spoken to anyone new in what felt like an eternity. It was always just you and Vox. Always just the two of you, in this delicate little world he made.

Alastor’s smile didn’t falter. “Something like that.”

That was all he offered.

No elaboration. No smile lines around his eyes. Just that vague, open-ended nothing. The kind of answer that left too much space for your thoughts to wander. You turned away quickly, grateful for the small whistle of the kettle signalling it was done. You reached for the mugs, ready to distract yourself with the familiar motions of service.

But before your fingers could even brush the handle, there was a sharp snap.

In a blink, a full tray—coffee, cream, sugar, and your painstakingly baked cookies—appeared on the counter beside you as if it had been there the entire time.

“Oh,” you breathed, taken aback. “Thank you…”

You reached out instinctively, but your hand froze midair as Alastor smoothly took the tray for himself. His movement was graceful, almost too effortless, like this moment had been rehearsed a hundred times before.

Your hand lingered awkwardly in the air before you folded it tightly into the other and tucked them both in your lap, suddenly very aware of how small you felt.

Alastor looked at you with a strange, amused softness. “Now that I’m your husband’s business partner, it seems we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

His voice had changed—lighter, yet still somehow heavy, as though each word carried something hidden beneath its lilt. He tilted his head, red eyes gleaming.

“I look forward to getting to know you more…” he paused, the grin never fading, “intimately.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. You opened your mouth, but no words came. You weren’t sure if you were being teased, threatened, or merely played with like a cat flicking its paw over a dying insect.

“Oh—yes, likewise,” you managed to say, unsure if it even made sense.

Alastor’s gaze lingered on you, stretching the moment until the silence itself started to feel sharp.

“I do hope,” he said slowly, “that this time, our time together won’t be cut too short.”

Then he turned and walked away, tray in hand, whistling a haunting tune you couldn’t quite place.

The sound of it wrapped around you like smoke.

And just before he reached the doorway, he stopped.

His back still to you, he said with eerie calm, “You remember, don’t you?”

He didn’t wait for your answer.

He just left you standing in the kitchen, surrounded by the scent of coffee and a memory you had once long tucked away.

NEXT ->

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[am-i-interrupting]

Hello! couldI ask for a headcanon on Rosies, Alastors, Husk, Lucifers, Vaggies, Lutes, Vox's, and velvettes(all separate) reactions to Getting in an argument with the reader(whom they're in a relationship with)

Reader leaves to clear their head for a bit but doesn't return.

About a week later, they find they the reader, bleeding in an alley.

big fan of your work btw, sorry if my request was to complex but thank you for at least reading it.

have a lovely day!

Alastor

Alastor knows he can be an infuriating person to argue with.

He will just continue to smile and speak in a steady tone, as if he’s unaffected even if that’s anything but true.

You don’t get into fights often but when you do, it’s not unusual for you to leave to clear your head.

Normally you’re back the next day. By day two he was concerned. Day three he was worried.

He sent his shadows out to find you.

As soon as one of them saw someone who even resembled you in the slightest, he appeared there even if you weren’t.

When he found you wounded, he was furious.

Not at you, but the person who dared touch you.

His anger nearly consumed him but he pushed it to the side in order to tend to your wounds.

You appeared in his radio tower where he quickly patched you up.

His touches were quick, a bit painful, and precise.

But he got you patched quickly and efficiently.

The argument you had was quickly put aside in favor of the more pressing matter, finding his next guest for his show.

Husk

He’s a pretty reasonable guy most of the time. It takes something pretty big in order for either of you to yell much less storm out.

When Husk woke up with a hangover and you no where to be seen, he cursed himself as he remembered what he’d tried to forget.

He sent you a message, just asking if you were okay.

He followed it up the next day by calling and leaving you a voicemail. He explained that you could take as much time as you needed but please, just let him know you’re okay.

It was Charlie who found you, the princess far more willing to take action than he was. Too afraid of pushing your boundaries himself even if he was worried.

He immediately went into assistant mode as Niffty went into mini-nurse mode.

When you were stable, he took you up to your room and tucked you in bed.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the argument, baby. We can talk about it later.”

He kissed your forehead and laid beside you in bed, hand on your pulse.

Lucifer

He’s not a fighter. He’s an avoider.

He’s not even really conscious of the fact that he does it. He just isolates.

That’s probably what caused the disagreement in the first place.

When he found you, immediately in panic mode.

Just wants to make sure you’re okay.

Being the first Angel cast out of heaven, he knew how to tend to wounds and quickly attended to yours.

Stroking your hair the entire time, just begging you don’t leave him.

Lute

Lute can be stubbornly loyal and it was probably something to do with work or Adam that caused the fight.

Whatever, go ahead. Leave. It’s not like she cares.

She lies to herself so well she believes it until she finds you bleeding.

Which, what the fuck? You weren’t in Hell. These things didn’t happen.

She doesn’t know how to take care of wounds. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s never seen someone bleed.

She takes you to Emily. Reluctantly.

Emily doesn’t really know what she’s doing but she quickly gets in contact with people who do, being so well contacted to the winners.

She is by your side, fight entirely forgotten, the entire time.

Will actually punch Adam if he says something about her going soft.

Rosie

Rosie is a problem solver.

That’s what she does.

She actually takes off work to try to figure out how to solve your problems and brain storm.

It’s only when she’s figured out several solutions she thinks will work that she tries to find you.

When she does, oh is she absolutely pissed.

But first, she’s stitching you up.

Very gentle but very honest.

A lot of “this’ll hurt” might give you something to bite on.

Will go out and find the poor soul who did this to you and serve their bloody heart on a silver platter to you.

Vaggie

She immediately goes into work mode.

She just overworks herself. She doesn’t know what to so she just tries to be useful.

When she finds you she feels her stomach turn and heart drop. Immediately yells for Charlie to get help as she bursts through the Hotel doors carrying you.

She’s holding your hand the entire time muttering how sorry she is.

She’ll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair.

Her hand will end up resting atop your pulse as she gets sleep for the first time since you left.

If you so much as breathe wrong, she’s calling for someone more experienced to check on you.

Velvette

Velvette’s a ruthless person to get in an argument with.

It’s not surprising when you leave and don’t come back.

She’ll act like she’s not worried but secretly is.

When she finds you, she’s swearing up and down and she scoops you up.

She basically dumps you with Vox. Trusting him to get you to stop bleeding and you to pull yourself together in the end.

She’s going on a hunt.

She comes back bloodied and with a mania in her eyes that is rarely seen.

You don’t leave her side for a while.

Vox

Vox has eyes everywhere.

He’s keeping one on you at all times.

He doesn’t need to find you even when you storm out because he always knows where you are.

You need time away from him? That’s fine. He’s watching you the entire time though.

You don’t even get the chance to start bleeding anything severe because as soon as you get nicked, he’s there.

The soul who dared to hurt you is electrocuted and fried before you even realize it’s Vox who entered the scene.

“Hot as it is watching you fight, I do hate to see you hurt.”

He stroked right beneath the place where you were cut, smearing the blood.

[queenofmorningstar]

Caught Between the Vees

The Vees x f! Intern Reader

Summary: Will you be able to escape The Vees?

CW: MDNI, Foursome, Light Bondage. Oral sex (both f and m), double penetration, anal play. Overstimulation, strap-on. Kinda possessive behaviour? The Vees being Vees.

Word Count: 5.6K

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5

Chapter Five: Winner Takes It All

You laid sprawled across his bed, hair a mess, and small marks of his teeth still remained. The plush mattress beneath you was warm, soft, expensive—like everything Vox touched. You snuggled deeper, never wanting to leave this haven.

Your body ached in a way that made you smile lazily. Vox had been… thorough. You stretched, letting out a low hum of satisfaction as the sheets slid over your bare skin..

But then there was a knock.

Sharp, twice. Then a pause, and a third, almost hesitant one. You sighed, rolling over and tugging Vox’s oversized shirt off the floor.

The door creaked open before you could speak. An imp with wide eyes stepped in. “Miss? You’re needed in the lounge. All three Vees are waiting for you.”

The way he said all three was too careful. Like he knew it would rattle you. And it did. Your pulse kicked up, sitting up straighter.

Velvette, Valentino… and Vox, but this time with eyes that might not look at you like a lover…What did they want? What did they know? And why did it suddenly feel like your perfect morning was turning into a performance you hadn't rehearsed for?

“Did they say why?” you asked, voice cool despite the tightness starting in your chest.

The imp shook his head too fast. “No, ma’am. Just said to make sure you were dressed nice.” Of course they did.

A curl of unease twisted in your stomach. This smelled like a trap. You stood slowly, already calculating. You already had the info you wanted to give Charlie. Should you text her? No, it would be better if you told her in person, and explained more thoroughly.

You took your time. There was a mini fridge there as well. You made some coffee and he had…shark-shaped cookies? You shrugged and ate it as well. While you were gone bathing, the imp had also brought a tray full of different breakfast options. You picked at the lavish spread—hellfruit, spiced eggs and toasted bread charred just right.Vox didn’t seem to skimp on hospitality…

Your fingers twitched around the last sip of your coffee. You didn’t know which version of the Vees would be waiting, and you hated that uncertainty.

By the time you reached the hallway leading to the Vees' private lounge, the imp had scurried off somewhere, sensing it was safer not to stick around. You stopped in front of the tall doors. They were cracked open, just slightly, voices floating through. Your stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the game you were about to walk into.

You took a breath and pushed the door open with the other. Three sets of eyes turned to you. Vel was draped over the arm of a chaise, sipping from a crystal glass with a wicked grin. Val was slouched like royalty in a leather armchair, smoke curling from his cigarette. Vox stood near the massive screen wall.

You stepped in. Valentino’s eyes dragged over your frame. “Well, well. Looks like someone had a good night.”

Velvette laughed. “You look comfy, babe. Breakfast good?”

You tilted your head. “Delicious.”

Vox’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

Oh, you were spiraling.

Not from guilt. No, never guilt. Just… logistics.

Because technically, you hadn't made any promises. Not to Vox. Not to Val. Not to Vel. There were no labels. And anyway—the Vees were poly. Open. That’s what the entire hell knew about them. They shared toys. Broke them together. Sometimes they passed them around like cocktails. Sometimes they fought over them just to spice things up.

So really, what were you guilty of? Nothing. Right? Still, your brain wouldn’t shut up.

Velvette was the first to move, her heels clicked across the room, each step was measured, languid. Her amused gaze never left yours, like a cat playing with a mouse before the kill. “You know, sweetheart,” Vel purred, breaking the stillness like a glass shattering on marble, “we could’ve kept this all light. Had fun. But you had to make it personal.”

You startled. “I don’t understand—”

Behind her, Valentino’s chuckle was low, burning with something darker than amusement. “You know what I hate, doll?” he asked, his voice smooth but with an edge that made your skin prickle. “I hate when someone plays me.”

Your chest tightened, and you couldn’t find your footing. “Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “What the fuck is going on—?”

And then, Vox stepped forward. His presence was like a heavy shadow falling over you. His eyes locked onto yours, glowing faintly, unreadable. “You lied to us,” he said, his voice a slow, smooth drawl.

Your stomach dropped. It felt like the floor had disappeared beneath your feet, leaving you to hang in midair. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

“What?” Your voice was raw, sharp—denial, a reflex.

Vox didn’t blink. His gaze never wavered. Velvette’s laugh was soft but dark. “Thought you could slide in all pretty, ride us, and sneak back to her with all the juicy little secrets, huh?”

The words hit you like a slap to the face, sharp and stinging. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Vox was still staring at you, still calm but cold. “Little Princess Morningstar must be very proud of your performance.”

Your mind spun, scrambling for answers, for something to hold onto, but you couldn’t make sense of anything. But the truth was already in the room, hanging heavy and damning, no matter how hard you fought against it.

Vox didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he raised his hand, just a small gesture. The lights cut out. The room plunged into darkness, and behind you, the screen flickered to life. The images were sharp and clear, the footage showed you hugging Charlie, talking very clearly what you intended for the Vees. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You were frozen. “How long,” Vel’s voice sliced through the quiet, “were you fucking us while working for her?”

“I wasn’t—!” Your voice cracked, but it was already too late.

And then, Vox whispered softly almost affectionate. “I adored you.”

You staggered back a step, breath caught in your throat. The words were a confession, an accusation, a punch in the gut. Valentino turned his head away, his jaw tight, but it was there—the flicker of betrayal in his eyes. Velvette didn’t smile anymore, she didn’t even look at you.

You stepped back. “No,” your voice barely a whisper. “No, you don’t understand, it wasn’t like—”

Another step. Then another.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean… I wasn’t—” Your voice cracked as panic clawed its way up your spine. Your chest constricted, and vision blurred. Your body took over before your mind could stop it. You turned and ran.

_____________________________

Thoughts jumbled in a million different directions, but one thing remained crystal clear in your mind: You had to get out.

Your legs carried you automatically like instinct. Down another hall. A sharp left. The V Tower’s labyrinthine design was no mystery to you; you’d studied it for weeks.

Only Charlie could get you out of here. You ripped your phone out, fumbling with the screen as you flew down the stairs. Your thumb hovered over the screen, shaking from the adrenaline. The call connected."Charlie," you gasped, voice tight with panic, barely able to keep it together. “Charlie, I need your help. I’m in trouble—I'm—”

Awful glitching filled your ears. You yelped, tearing it away from your ear and staring as Vox’s face appeared. “Darling, we didn’t finish our talk.”

Your fingers shook as you threw the phone down and it shattered.

You’re on your own. The thought settled coldly in your chest, a weight of finality sinking deep into your bones. You kept eyes trained on the stairs below, forcing your legs to keep moving, one foot after another.

You were almost there. Just a few more turns. A few more goddamn steps.

Then—BOOM.

The wall to your left exploded in a cascade of flame and stone. You shrieked, flinging yourself to the ground as debris rained over like ash from a funeral pyre. Dust clouded the air in a suffocating wave.

Valentino stepped through first, adjusting his pristine fur jacket, brushing rubble from his shoulder with deliberate flair. Right beside him, Velvette huffed and said to Val. “That was my wall you blew up, jackass.”

But Val ignored that and looked at you. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?” he drawled, voice rough and venomous.

“Aw,” Velvet pouted, her eyes glowing like twin pink stars in the smoky dark. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Your heart nearly stopped. You turned on your heel, every muscle screaming as you sprinted back—Only to find him.

Vox, standing in the middle of the corridor like a vision summoned from your worst nightmare. No emotion in his face. He didn’t move. He didn’t need to.

You were trapped. Fuck.

You looked left…nothing but stone. Right…just the broken wall and the flaming rubble. Forward, Vox. Behind, Val and Vel.

Nowhere to run.

“You don’t get to walk out,” Vox said, his voice distorted. “After all that you did.”

You clenched your fists, swallowing down the terror, forcing yourself to breathe. Think. THINK. But there were no secret doors here. No windows. No distractions.

The game was over.

______________________________

The world tilted sideways as you kicked and writhed, fists pounding against Valentino’s back to absolutely no effect.“Put me down, you son of a—!”

“Now why would I do that, dollface?” He purred. He had hoisted you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You twisted, elbowed, clawed—nothing. His grip was iron, steady even as you thrashed like a wildcat. Vel skipped beside them, unbothered, humming while Vox trailed behind in complete silence.

You couldn’t get a read on them. Not when your blood was roaring in your ears and the taste of dread coated the back of your throat like smoke.

Val's laughter rumbled through his chest, jolting her. “You really thought you could play us, huh?” he said, casually, like this was a flirty conversation at a bar and not a kidnapping. “Spy on us, lie to us, take our cocks and our secrets, then waltz out like you were never ours?”

“I wasn’t yours,” you hissed, struggling harder. “I never said I was—”

He smacked your ass. “You acted like it,” he said, sharp and low now, all venom under the charm. “And that counts, sweetheart.”

You grind your teeth. You hated the weight of not knowing what came next. You wanted control back. Just something. You opened your mouth to speak, to argue, to distract—

“Don’t waste your breath,” Vox said flatly from behind them. “We’re not doing this for information.”

For a moment, your brain stalled—caught between panic and disbelief.

This was about them. Their bruised pride. Their ego.

God, the bed. It was ridiculous. Huge, overstuffed and drenched in red silk sheets and many pillows. With a slow, deliberate motion, Val tossed her down onto the oversized bed in the center of the room. You bounced once on the mattress, then settled, wrists pulled gently up as Val clipped the cuffs to the headboard with a quiet click. "Comfortable?" Vox drawled. His screen held a crooked smile, cold at first glance but something else flickered beneath it. Amusement and affection. And maybe... a little bit of hurt.

You were restrained, yes, arms stretched above your head, wrists snug in those cuffs but still trying to stare him down like you were in control. It’s cute… it’s infuriating. It makes his circuits hum with something just shy of hunger.

That fire in your eyes dared Vel to get closer. Her eyes roamed from the rise of your chest to the curve of your thighs. Still trying to hold your pride, even now.

Val reaches out, brushing the back of his knuckles over her collarbone. You shiver, not from the cold, from him.

The shame of being caught should’ve made you shrink. But instead, it made your thighs clench. You knew you could break out of these flimsy cuffs…but you didn’t want to. You wanted to see this through.

Valentino shrugged out of his shirt first. He gave you a dangerous grin, letting you take in the view before unbuckling his belt, his pants sliding down his hips. Vox discarded his jacket carelessly, revealing the sharp lines of his chest, his eyes never leaving yours, daring you to look away. And Velvette, always the tease, unzipped the back of her dress with languid grace, letting it slip down her body, leaving her in nothing but delicate lace lingerie that hugged every curve.

Vox leaned in close, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers, eyes glittering with amusement and something darker. “Let’s play a little game, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “If we can make you cum first… every round, no breaks, no begging out — then you stay. You’re ours. Forever.”

Valentino was already grinning like he couldn’t wait to win, Velvette practically purring with excitement.

“And if you don’t?” you rasped.

He smirked. “If we cum first…then you get to walk. Back to your precious little hotel and your redemption arc.” He traced a slow circle over your thigh. “No hard feelings.”

_______________________________

The silk cuffs dug into your wrists, not painfully — just enough to remind you weren't going anywhere for a while.

Vox moved between your thighs. His sharp, elegant claws pushed your knees wider apart, dragging it along the soft skin of your inner thighs. Your body arched at the first teasing brush of his tongue, every lick purposeful and smooth. He pinned your hips down with strong hands, not letting you squirm away, breathy whimpers falling from your lips almost as if he had mapped every nerve.

“Already moaning, baby?” Valentino climbed onto the bed, his cock heavy and throbbing in his hand as he moved above your chest. He brushed his cock against your lips. “You know what to do, muñeca,” he purred, dragging the head across her bottom lip, smearing precum. “Open up and take it like a good girl.”

Your eyes flicked up at him, defiant even as your lips parted and took him in. Your tongue curled around the head of his cock. Vox’s tongue flattening against your clit, his fingers spreading your folds wide as he devoured you like a man starved. Every flick of his tongue was deliberate, every suck timed to the slow rock of Valentino’s hips. They moved in sync, overwhelming you from both ends and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Velvette had curled up beside you like a contented kitten, her pretty lace panties already pushed to the side for her slender fingers to slip into her slick heat without hesitation. Two fingers teased her folds, slow at first, tracing lazy circles against her clit while she watched everything—the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth stretched around Valentino, the twitch of your thighs under Vox’s tongue.

Vel groaned softly but edged with something darker. “God, watching you like this…” She gasped as her fingers picked up speed, rubbing tight, practiced circles that made her thighs tense. “You’re so fucking hot like this.”

Her eyes fluttered half-shut as her hand moved faster, slick sounds mixing with the obscene rhythm of the bed creaking beneath them. She was so wet—fingers gliding over her clit, then dipping inside herself, only to drag that arousal back up and rub it in harder.

Vel moaned softly as she rubbed her clit faster, but it wasn’t enough anymore. She needed to taste you, to touch more. Her lips hovered over your chest, those pretty nipples already stiff from the cold air and stimulation.

“That's it, baby…Look how good you're taking it.” Velvette whispered, then closed her mouth around one nipple, sucking hard. She moaned, her hand between her legs growing frantic as she ground into her own palm. She sucked again, wet and noisy, leaving red marks around the delicate peak before kissing it softer, almost sweet.

Valentino’s hips rolled in slow, deep thrusts, filling your mouth with every stroke, keeping a steady rhythm. One of his hands tangled in your hair, not harsh, but insistent, like he was guiding you where he wanted you. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, low and drawn out. “Mmm, that's it, take it all.”

The soft wet sounds echoed off the plush walls of the room, mixing with Velvette’s whines and Vox’s low growl from between your thighs.

Val looked down at you—tears pricking the corners of your eyes, spit glistening on your lips, your lashes fluttering as your throat flexed to take him. You gasped, hips twitching involuntarily and that made Vox grin. He latched onto your clit then and sucked hard. You whimpered, mouth still full of Val’s cock, and Vox moaned darkly in response, tongue circling tighter and faster, a perfect spiral of pressure. His fingers slipped between your folds, sliding in effortlessly, curling with calculated cruelty as he found that perfect spot. The spot that made your thighs jerk, made you cry around Val’s cock, made Vel whimper in giddy delight beside you.

“Doll, you aren’t even fighting that hard.” Vox whispered, voice glitching with pleasure as he fucked you with his fingers. “You want to be ours, don’t you?”

He sucked again, relentless as his tongue flicked with maddening speed, fingers curled deep, pumping in as you moaned around Val’s cock. Your thighs started to shake.

Vel moaned with you, grinding her fingers faster. “She’s close,” she whimpered. “I can feel it—"

Val’s thrusts stuttered,“F-Fuck—baby, I’m—” he growled, voice breaking, and with a deep groan, he spilled down your throat. He held your jaw gently, thumbs rubbing your cheeks as he watched you try to swallow around him. At the same time, your thighs spasmed around Vox’s head.

Velvette bit gently down on your nipple as her body twitched as she came against her own hand. She moaned, voice cracking with release. “That's it, baby, that's it...Give in to us... fuck, you’re so perfect when you come."

“That's my girl... Just like that. Fuckin’ perfect for me.” Vox murmured, finally lifting his mouth from you, chin wet with slick.

Valentino pulled out slowly, panting, then leaned down and kissed you hard. Your body was floating… barely noticing Val pulling away, murmuring something low and filthy in your ear as he stroked your cheek. Your lips tingled from the stretch of him, saliva still dripping down your chin.

Before you could try to come back to senses, Velvette was straddling your chest, knees digging into the sheets on either side. Vel spread her folds with two fingers, slow and teasing. “Eat up, sweetheart,” she said, voice high and playful.

And then she lowered herself, grinding down onto your mouth with a breathless gasp. You moved your tongue, your hazy mind obeying on its own. Velvette let out a high-pitched moan, her hands flying to the headboard to steady herself. “F-fuck, yes—just like that,” she gasped, her voice already cracking. “Smart girl, such a pretty mouth…”

She was dizzy, but then Vel cried out above you, thighs trembling against your cheeks, clit sensitive to every stroke. And that’s when your brain, calculating even under pressure…Velvette's already cum before, so she’s sensitive, you thought, eyes glinting beneath lashes. If you can make her come first, you win this round.

You focused. Your tongue darted, circling tight and fast around her clit with expert precision. You flattened it, then flicked it just right, small repeated strokes that made Vel’s whole body jolt. Vel gasped, head thrown back, fingers white-knuckled around the headboard. “W-wait—,” Her voice was high and breathless, hips twitching. “Oh fuck—”

But you didn’t stop. You angled your head just slightly, lips sealing around Velvette’s clit now, and sucked hard. Meanwhile, Val had slumped back against the pillows, one hand resting on his thigh while the other wrapped around his cock, lazily pumping. Because the sight before him? Fucking art. “She’s too fuckin’ clever for her own good,” Val purred, voice thick.

But below them, Vox had gone still. “Still scheming?” he murmured as he leaned forward, palms pressing into the mattress on either side of your hips. You didn’t answer, mouth still on Vel. But your thighs tensed around him.

“You’re so clever,” Vox said, voice dripping with affection. He reached down, brushing the swollen, soaked lips of her pussy with the head of his cock, teasing. “Go ahead, beautiful. Outsmart me. Outsmart all of us. I’ll just have to fuck the fight outta you.”

Without warning, he sank in. One smooth, devastating thrust. You jerked, a muffled cry vibrating against Vel’s pussy as your back arched off the bed, every muscle going taut with the sudden fullness. It stopped your movements around her clit, which gave Vel some reprieve. Scheming bastard.

Vox let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. You clenched around him, involuntarily. “Oh,” he chuckled, voice glitching. “Sensitive already? Sweetheart, I haven’t even started yet.”

He pulled back halfway, savoring the friction then drove in again, harder this time. Not sloppy or rushed, but precise, like everything he does. Each thrust made you moan into her pussy, sending vibrations up through Velvette’s sensitive core. Vel’s thighs tighten around your head. “Sh-she’s still licking—!” She cried out, her hands scrambling for the headboard again. “She’s still going, Vox!”

“Of course she is,” Vox moaned darkly, leaning down to kiss the inside of your knee as he kept thrusting. “She knows what’s at stake.”

He set a brutal, perfect pace, each stroke driving deeper, angled to hit every sensitive spot inside you. Your slick coated his cock, every thrust more obscene than the last. 

“I told you,” he said, his thrusts never faltering. “You don’t come cum first, you walk. But if we make you come first… you stay.” His grin widened. “And I’m going to make sure you fucking do.”

You gasped against Vel, your tongue faltering. No, no. You had a point to make. You knew you could make Vel come first. He reached between them now, fingers finding your clit, throbbing from before. He rubbed tight, sharp circles, perfectly synced with each brutal thrust. But you didn’t give up either.

And then Velvette came, hard and fast and messy, grinding helplessly against your face as her whole body convulsed. Vox’s rhythm faltered, and he pulled out.

The cuffs rattled as you tried to lift your head, smug satisfaction glowing under the flushed exhaustion in your eyes. You licked your lips. “Don’t pout, you’ll get another chance to lose to me later." The Vees definitely didn't like that. You won this one.

Vox was done playing nice. He didn’t yell, just spoke, cold and crisp. “Turn her over.”

Val’s hands slid under your thighs, and Vel laughed, her hands already slipping beneath the cuffs to help. Your hips were lifted and your body turned. Face down, ass up, chest pressed into the soft pillows.  

Velvette was in front of you again. She pulled out a strap-on, the harness hugged her hips tight. It jutted upward, inches from your face. Her fingers slid into your hair, tilting your chin up until their gazes locked. “You’ve got such a smart fuckin’ mouth,” Vel said sweetly, “Let’s see if it’s good for anything useful.”

The first push was gentle. She let the tip slip between your lips. She held eye contact like a challenge, even as your cheeks flushed deeper. You opened wider. Vel’s breath hitched, watching your tongue swirl around the base, lips stretching to take the length. Your throat bobbed. You gagged once, eyes fluttering, but didn’t stop. Vel was content after the last orgasm, and now wanted you to fall apart completely.

Valentino groaned low behind you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, dragging a golden claw up the back of your thigh, slow and deliberate. “All mouthy until we put somethin’ in it.”

Vox, off to the side, chuckled with static hum. “She is a fast learner,” he said lazily, stroking himself as he watched. 

Vel’s hands were on your hair, guiding her movements. The dildo slid in and out with maddeningly slow precision. And that was when you felt the shift.

Vox moved beneath you, the faint scrape of his fingers against your hipbones. His cock, hard and heavy, pressed against your entrance. Vox’s cock pushed forward as he sank deep inside you, filling you in a way that made your body shudder and pulse with need. “Fuck…” Vox groaned, eyes dark as he took his time, letting you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re so good, baby. Taking me like the perfect little thing you are.”

Vel added more pressure, her thrusts growing harder, more demanding as she hit the back of your throat. You let out a loud moan, swallowed by Vel’s movements.

Vox smirked at the sound, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as he pushed deeper. “That’s it,” he murmured. “You can’t hide what you want forever, sweetheart. You like this, don’t you?”

Vox’s hands gripped your hip as he drove into your soaked pussy. His voice glitching between low moans and dark laughter. “Oh, baby, I know you're sharp, but you can’t think your way out of this, can you?"

Behind you, Valentino’s lubed fingers circled your rim, pushing inside inch by slow inch while you moaned around Velvet's strap-on. Vox thrust up harder, fucking you onto his cock and making your whole body jolt. 

With one hand Val gripped your hip, holding you steady as his fingers pressed inside you. He stretched you open gradually. His palm smoothed up your back, tracing the shape like he was learning it by memory. “Y’know,” he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to your shoulder, “I’ve had a lotta whores. But you? You’re the one I think about when I jerk off. You’re the one I want moanin’ my name ‘til your voice breaks.”

Then, with one smooth roll of his hips, he lined himself up and pushed inside. Deep, stretching, burning in the most exquisite way. He didn’t rush. Valentino sank into you, taking you like he owned your soul. You cried out, back arching but he groaned, a rich, filthy sound. “Fuck... tight as ever.”

Then Valentino drove into you, slow but relentless, stretching you open until you cried out. Sandwiched between Vox, Valentino and Velvette, your mind reeled. Every thrust from below shoved you onto Val’s cock, every lazy rock of his hips pushed you deeper onto Vox, and both their movements shoved you forward, taking more of the dildo harnessed to Vel.

Vox’s hand slid to your clit. "Come for us," he ordered, voice ragged. "Show us how fucking good you have it."

You shattered with a strangled sob, body clenching down so hard on both of them that Vox cursed loud and spilled inside you, twitching as he filled your pussy. Valentino groaned against your back, grinding deep inside he came too.

Vel kissed your forehead sweetly, cooing, "Good girl... That’s our girl."

_______________________________

You sat slouched in a giant cushioned chair, wrapped in a fluffy pink robe (Velvette’s), your thighs still sore, hair a disaster, and sanity hanging by a very frayed thread. You’d barely survived a three-way sex marathon, and now Valentino was doing your nails. “Babe, hold still or I’ll smudge the glitter,” he muttered around his cigarette, squinting with terrifying concentration as he painted your pinky the exact shade of blood red. “I swear, you fidget more than Vox when the WiFi’s down.”

You gave him a dead-eyed stare.

“I’m an artist with exquisite taste and access to 5K worth of OPI demon polish.” Val said without looking up. 

Vel plopped onto the armrest beside them, shoving her phone in Valentino’s face. “OHHH oh oh—do this next! Look at the little rhinestone skulls!! They’d look so cute on her middle fingers when she flips off Vox!”

“I feel like I’m gonna die,” you muttered.

“Nope!” Velvet chirped. “You’re ours now, darling.”

Before you could protest, Vox strolled in like he owned the place (he did), shirtless and content, a steaming mug that said “Fuck Alastor” in one hand. “I’ve already handled the paperwork,” he announced cheerfully.

Everyone blinked.

“What paperwork?” you asked, already regretting it.

“For the future marriage, obviously,” Vox said, sipping his coffee. “Three-way binding. You, me, Val, and Vel. I had the property deeds transferred this morning. Congrats darling, you now own a penthouse here.”

You looked into the metaphorical camera like you were on the Office.

Valentino gently blew on your nails to dry them, surprisingly delicate for an overlord. “Maybe I’ll get your name tattooed over my heart. Or ass. Same thing.”

The door to the room swung open with a sudden force, and Charlie stepped in, her hair flowing, red eyes glowing, partial demon form showing. “WHERE–”

She stilled, her expression going from anger to shock as she took in the sight of you sitting in the chair, surrounded by the three Vees who were clearly treating you…not torture-y?

“Charlie!” You smiled wide, getting up and hugging her close. Charlie hugged back tightly, glad you were okay. The Vees frowned.

“What the hell is going on here?” Charlie stepped back a little to get a good look at you. “Are you alright?”

Your lips curled into a smile, “Oh, don’t mind them. They’re just... being themselves.” 

Charlie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. You knew she would ask as soon as you got back at the hotel. Charlie smiled at you, looping her arm around yours.“Come on. Let’s go home.”

Before you could take a single step, the Vees exploded into action. Velvette’s smile held a dangerous edge. “She belongs here with us, princess.”  

Vox was pushed off the wall with a sudden growl, his voice dipping into a deeper, more menacing tone as his left eye spiraled. “You really think you can come in here and walk out with her? Think again.”  

Val already had his gun out, his moth wings flaring wide.

Oh god, do they really think they can win against the princess of hell? You thought they were smarter than this. And you hadn’t gotten a chance to clarify shit.

You rolled your eyes and gave them a pointed look. “You guys can’t just calm the fuck down for once?” Charlie, still somewhat stunned but equally protective, tugged you behind her, giving the Vees a stern look. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Vox said, wagging a finger lazily. “Not so fast, sweetheart. You lost the game.”

You blinked and slowly turned to him, arms crossed. “Excuse me?”

“You know the rules,” Vox continued, setting his mug down with theatrical care. “We win the game, you stay with us. Forever. And, well... baby, round three? You didn’t stand a chance.”

Velvette chuckled behind him, lounging on the couch like a smug panther. “Mmm. Sweetheart was screaming our names.”

Charlie looked like she realised it all now and didn’t like this one bit.

“Then let’s talk about the results, shall we?” you said, holding up one finger. “Round one? You all came embarrassingly fast.”

Valentino actually gasped, like someone has offended his entire family. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.” You arched a brow. “We all came together. So I’m calling that round a tie.”

Vox's smirk faltered slightly. “Fine. Round one: tie. And round two?”

You held up another finger. “Round two? I won. Easily. Valentino was still recovering, Vel forgot her name, and you,” You pointed at Vox, “were close to a reboot. I could tell.”

“I was distracted!” Vox snapped.

“Point proven.”

Valentino whistled low. “Damn. She’s got receipts.”

“And round three,” You went on, “I’ll admit, yeah, you guys won. Barely. Because I was exhausted by that point and couldn’t feel my damn legs.”

Charlie looked increasingly like she wanted to be anywhere else right now.

“So!” You declared brightly. “One round tie, one round me, one round you. That makes it a... what, kids?” There was a long, tense pause.

“Tie,” Velvette muttered.

You beamed. “Correct! So technically, no one wins. Meaning you can’t hold me to the ‘stay with us forever’ clause. But I am feeling generous today…I give you six months a year.” The Vees all blinked.

“In the V-tower?” Vel asked cautiously.

You nodded. “With you maniacs. But the other six months? I stay at the Hazbin Hotel with Charlie. My sanity needs time to regenerate.”

Charlie hummed. “That sounds familiar.”

“Exactly.” You smiled sweetly. “Persephone-style. Half the year in V tower with you guys, the other half with Charlie and the slightly-less-insane people.”

“I am so done with all of you,” Charlie mumbled under her breath.

Valentino leaned forward, intrigued. “Do we at least get conjugal visits during the off-season?”

“No,” You replied instantly.

“Phone sex?”

“No.”

“E-projections?”

“Valentino.”

He sat back with a mock pout. “Fine.”

Vox rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then gave a slow, wicked grin. “You know what? I’ll allow it. Six months on, six months off.”

Charlie threw her arms in the air. “I am officially declaring this entire situation cursed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next>>>

Notes: Wow! Can't believe this fic has come to an end. Omg this was SO fun, you guys!! I hope you had just as much fun as I did! Thank you — every like, every comment, it seriously means the world and keeps me writing more.

For my next piece...stay tuned!

*******************

Some bonus crack for your guys(◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

[bindeds]

𓍼 ． ݁ ⊹ (+18.) VOX is overworked and needs relief … sorry guys this idea has been bugging me for a while and i’m going to turn it into a full fic soon but i wanna get to my requests before doing that so, have this imagine for now <3 (lmk if you want a top!vox version of this <3)

mlist. request something <3

“O-Oh, fuck babe, I—” Vox was biting his lip before he could even finish his sentence. “This is … fuck—such a bad idea.”

As Vox’s best friend you were the only person who knew about his monthly ritual of getting laid by going to a bar or a club. he didn’t really like hiring prostitutes and preferred to utilize his strengths—but that didn’t do him much good in the last month or so. And all he’d done since then was bitch and whine.

So naturally, you stepped up.

His cock disappeared into you as quickly as it had left you when you bounced on it, his chair creaking in time with your motions. your hands draped loose on his shoulders, eyes drunk on the sight of Vox trying not to groan at just how tight your pussy was around his cock.

“Yeah?” You moaned lewdly. Vox seemed to be snapped out of his trance at the sound you made. His hands moved from squeezing your thighs to grabbing your waist instead. “Want me to stop?”

Funny thing about the whole situation was that he usually topped. At least, that’s what he told you whenever he talked about the tales of his trysts. But now …

“Fuck! Fuck no, you’re so fucking good please don’t stop,” he pleaded, his words blending together as he slurred. “O-Oh, god, you make me feel too good, shit …”

“Are we still … just friends, Vox?” You held your breath every time a moan threatened to surface. You couldn’t risk yourself like that again.

You don’t know what possessed you to ask it.

“Oh, sweetie,” Vox cooed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re riding me like you’re my lover.”

[hellvcifer]

you disappear for a long time and they continue to message you

ଘ smau ft :: lucifer, vox, adam, angel dust, valentino // gn!reader note :: anyone ask for a side of angst ?? no ? just me? first post back after my mini break hehe also val is a non-relationship scenario ** — thank you to @helluvagyal for helping with angel’s <3 warnings :: uh angst, allusion to something bad happening, suggestive (adam), death, pet names used instead of y/n, valentino, toxic dynamics (val), MDNI !!

Lucifer

Vox

Adam

Angel Dust┆ Valentino (non-relationship, TOXIC)

[hyperfixatedbastard]

sweet, sweet silence

Vox x Autistic!GN!Reader

Dating the CEO of VoxTek Enterprises has its perks. You always get brand new devices before they even hit the shelves, and occasionally, Vox makes things specifically for you - like noise-cancelling headphones.

Word Count: 1.3k

WARNINGS: none!

A/N: this is for the autistic homies but it works for anyone with sensory issues! 'tis based off of my own experiences so apologies if it feels inaccurate to anyone, i'm projecting so hard rn. this is also my first time writing x reader/2nd person POV so I hope I did alright! also, i do requests if anyone would like to see more of this kind of thing :)

Dividers

"Doll, c'mere for a second, would ya?" Vox calls out to you, gesturing for you to come to his desk with a 'come hither' motion. 

You raise a brow in interest as you approach your boyfriend where he's sitting in his rather eccentric chair, tinkering with...something. You hop up onto the desk, careful to sit in a spot that you know has no important screens or buttons (you learned the hard way). You don't say anything, instead just tilting your head and waiting for Vox to show off whatever he's been working on this time.

He finally lets you see what's in his clawed hands: a pair of headphones. They're clearly a VoxTek product—the blue and red color scheme gives it away—though you're certain you've never seen these on sale before. It's not uncommon for Vox to show off new products to you before they're released, though, so you don't question it.

He smirks as he holds the headphones out to you. It's not that sly, devious smile he so often has on his screen, though; it's that grin you have when you're about to surprise someone and you just know they're going to love it. "These are for you, darling."

On one hand, you get a little excited (free shit, fuck yeah!). But on the other, you're a little worried—you're not good at receiving gifts. It always ends up awkward because you don't really know how to express gratitude in an expected, neurotypical way. But Vox is well aware of that, and he can tell when you're grateful, so you push those worries to the side and take the headphones from him.

You look at them curiously, inspecting the foldable hinges, the ear cushions, and the small assortment of buttons on the speakers. You can tell that the three buttons on the right speaker are for adjusting the volume—increase, mute, and decrease—but you have no damn clue what the button on the left speaker is for.

"Well? Put 'em on," Vox encourages you, still with that expectant grin as he anticipates your reaction.

You do as he says and place the headphones over your ears. They're certainly comfortable, but you don't see what the big deal is. You already have headphones—they’re not great, as it’s damn near impossible to drown out the unbearably overstimulating sounds of Hell, but you manage. Kinda.

Just as you’re about to ask what’s so special about these headphones, Vox presses that mystery button on the left speaker, and everything goes blissfully quiet.

Your eyes widen as you get the first moment of true silence for the first time since you arrived in Hell. The sudden difference is initially jarring, but the relief is downright euphoric. 

During the entirety of your afterlife in Hell, it's been ceaselessly loud and often unbearable. The screams, the explosions, the gunshots—it's incessant, and you never get a moment of peace. The V Tower is not nearly as bad as the rest of the Pride Ring, thanks to a lot of soundproofing, but there's always something. Moans and other lewd noises fill the halls of anywhere within five floors of Valentino's studios. You can hear the screeching and yelling beneath the thrum of music emitting from Velvette’s section of the tower. 666 Studios isn't much better, with the constant chattering of the crew and bickering between newscasters.

Vox's lair office is by far the quietest place in the entirety of Hell, at least in your experience. The soundproofing here is much more effective than anywhere else in V Tower, and Vox is the only person ever here. He does talk and maniacally laugh to himself fairly often, but you don’t usually don’t mind that (and he’ll typically quite down if he can tell you’re having a rough day). But it’s far from perfect—there’s still the intermittent click-clacking of a keyboard, the constant whirring of the computer fans, the low humming of all the tech, and the audio from whatever security camera Vox is spying on. You can tune it out most of the time, but it all overwhelms you so, so easily.

And you aren't very good at hiding it (at least not with Vox, who’s too observant for his own damn good when it comes to you).

Which is why your dear boyfriend has just spent the past several days making you the best noise-canceling headphones Hell has ever seen. He knows what the constant overstimulation does to you, and he sees it far more often than he'd like to. You get irritated and snippy, and sometimes it gets so bad you have a meltdown. It's gotten less common over time, but it still happens way too frequently for either of your likings. 

“So, who’s the best boyfriend ever?” he hints, clearly fishing for a compliment. His voice is surprisingly clear despite the headphones practically deafening you—his words are muffled, but just loud enough for you to understand what’s being said. He's grinning at you like he's the one that just got the excruciatingly heartfelt present. 

Usually, you’d have a witty comeback to Vox’s attempts at getting you to stroke his ego (always followed by an actual, genuine compliment to ease his insecurities hiding behind that ego), but you’re drawing a blank right now. 

The gift is so thoughtful that you don’t even know where to start on expressing your gratitude. Noise-canceling headphones seem so obvious now, but this is Hell! Both you and Vox had died before this technology became commonplace, and not many people in Hell care that much about the noise. Vox made these headphones specifically for you. He doesn’t need them (he can quite literally just turn off his audio input) and he probably won’t make much of a profit with them as a VoxTek product. He’s a busy man, being a CEO and an Overlord, yet he took the time to make this for you himself, not even passing the project off to one of the poor souls that works for him. 

“Babe?” Vox calls out gently, waving a hand in front of your face. Oh, shit—you’re overthinking your response so much that you forgot to actually fucking respond.

You blink a few times, meeting your boyfriend’s gaze. His brows are slightly furrowed, in what you think is a mix of concern and amusement. He’s a little worried he’s fucked up somehow, but he knows you well enough by now to recognize when you’re thinking too hard about something. He actually finds it quite adorable, at least when you’re not about to have a panic attack from it. 

As he looks at you expectantly, you decide to just go with your gut (at least, that’s what you think you’re doing—you’ve never entirely understood what the fuck that phrase means).

You don’t give yourself time to second-guess your actions before you’re practically jumping into Vox’s lap—though it’s more like falling since you were just sitting on the desk. He lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise before he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist, holding you steady while being careful of his claws. He smirks as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, jostling the headphones a little but not enough to fuck with the noise cancellation.

“So…you like them, then?” Vox prompts, just wanting the confirmation even though the answer is already clear. You can tell by his tone that he’s still grinning proudly.

You just gently nod, inadvertently rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt (fortunately, Vox is a fancy bastard with high standards when it comes to clothing, and he’d long ago thrown out any garment made with fabric that triggered your sensory issues).

“Thank you,” you murmur against his neck. 

His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and his response is so soft you can barely hear it through the headphones. “Anything for you, doll.”

[kelpcloud]

Can you imagine the scandal?

The TV demon's partner, defiled, by his worse nemesis at that. The sinner who swore that they were virgin until marriage, waiting for their husband, only to be taken by his charming rival, right before their wedding day too.

Even during your vows, you couldn't help but imagine Alastor in place of Vox in that venue, that it was Alastor smiling at you as you said those three litle words, that it was Alastor who kissed you after being permitted.

But maybe you were being too harsh? I mean, Vox loved you too! Well... he tried, hopefully..

Nothing seemed to fill the void that specific Overlord had left in you, he'd ruined you for anyone else. Nothing was stimulating enough, especially with your husband so busy and particularly neglectful due to his company and tight schedule.

So you ran back.

You snuck out with the help of the excuse of 'spying on that dingy hotel', and you ran back to him, and he took you in with welcoming arms, tending to your every need with such care that you couldn't dream of your husband doing. All behind his oblivious, egotistical back.

You weren't sure if your husband was even trying anymore, but you didn't really care about it at this point. You were in a monogamous relationship, but not with Vox.

Your husband may be obsessed with the Radio Demon, but you were too, and only one of those obsessions were reciprocated.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Bed Of Electric Flowers (18+ Vox x Reader)

Vox x Reader Rated: Adult Content: Established long term relationship, Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral, cowgirl, vox blue screens, missionary.

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

AN- Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum (I could cry it looks so good- that’s a lie, I *am* crying) 

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

The ringing of your doorbell startled you out of the tv trance you had been in for the last few hours. Vox was working late, as was typical, and you deserved to have a couch potato night with popcorn, trash tv and, comfortable pajamas that you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend’s drawer. 

“Delivery,” A voice called from the intercom at the door. 

As was building policy, the delivery person left the item on the table by the door as soon as you acknowledged them and left. You were not expecting any deliveries at the moment but it wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for you boyfriend to send gifts and trinkets on a whim. 

At times it felt like he was trying to buy your affections. You knew that simply was just how Vox was. It didn’t help that in the past he had had partners who had to be bought to forgive his long work hours and dedication to maintaining his position, both in life and in death. 

You didn’t need gifts and jewelry but that didn’t stop him from getting them for you. 

What you needed was his time and fortunately, that was more often than not what he had in short supply. Vox worked hard and he worked a lot. That left you alone a lot of the time. You loved him though and because of that love, you were committed to making it work. 

Opening the door, you found a vase full of the most beautiful blue and purple flowers you had ever seen. The arrangement contained some you knew from life, some you had only seen in death and some you’d never seen before at all. It was clearly an expensive arrangement, flowers from up top came with price tags few in the Pride ring could afford. 

The simple gesture warmed your heart and made you smile, though it wasn’t needed. No matter how many times you told him though, the gestures would never stop.

You had always loved flowers and while Vox thought it was silly since they would just wilt and die, it wasn’t uncommon for him to indulge you when he’s realized he had been away for longer than you liked. 

You hummed as you carried them inside, setting the vase on your nightstand after clicking the TV off. It was getting late and it was clear Vox wasn’t going to come by again tonight if he sent flowers. May as well get your beauty sleep, right?

You ran your hand along the back of your neck as you brushed your teeth, wiping the sweat away. The weather in Hell was predictably hot and sometimes the AC couldn’t keep up, even in Vox tower. It seemed like tonight was going to be one of those nights. 

After a look to the comfortable embrace of your bed, you turned on the shower. The cooling sheets would help but lowering your body temperature first would help you get off to sleep even more. 

Slipping out of the old fashioned button down shirt and loose shorts, you stepped into the shower. The water was warm but not hot as it ran down your back and soaked through your hair. It felt nice. Really nice. 

If you closed your eyes, it almost felt like Vox’s hands running over your body instead of the water. Your mind ran away with that thought. Soon you were standing in the water, imagining the feeling of his firm hands running along your curves. If you tried hard enough, you could feel the way his screen would warm the back of your neck. 

The shower wasn’t helping cool you don’t in the slightest. 

With a sight, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. There was no one in your apartment to hand it to you, to make some thirsty comment about how good you looked wet. 

You decided you were just lonely. 

That was why you were restless. That was why you were hot all over. It had been two weeks since you had seen Vox and even longer since the two of you had last had sex. It wasn’t for the lack of attraction or desire, you were just at that comfortable stage of a relationship where when you’re tired and busy, quality time was more important. 

You were just tired, lonely and horny. That’s all. 

You wiggled your until your slightly damp arms made their way into into Vox’s button up sleep shirt. Every time you slipped into one of his shirts, it made you smile. It always reminded you of the way he would complain about how he missed the ease of a pull over shirt. All his tshirts had wide necks, comically so to accommodate his head.

It smelled clean, laundry fresh and not like his cologne. The only thing in your apartment that smelled like him was his pillow on your bed. The smell was fading on that too. He had been gone far too long, once again. But that wasn’t new. It was the same old routine, just getting longer each time he was away.

He was gone more often than he was there even though he had claimed to have all but moved in. You told yourself that you were okay with it. He worked a lot, often sleeping in his office for a little bit here or there instead of coming home. 

Self pleasure wasn’t something you had particularly enjoyed but desperate times called for desperate measures. You were restless and heat settled into your core that simply wasn’t disappearing. Falling face first onto your bed, you let out a sigh. 

“Vox,” You whined as you rolled onto your back, “I miss you.” 

Silence answered your confession. He didn’t zap into the space with a loud, “Hey, hey, hey!” He didn’t didn’t even walk through the front door. He didn’t come home. Not that you expected him too.

Alone, again. 

Your hand snaked down your body, slipping into the pair of Vox’s shorts you wore. May as well indulge, you decided. You were so horny and it’s not like Vox was there to take care of you. 

As you caressed your clit, you thought about texting Vox. If you called him, would he come? Or was he in a meeting? With a sigh you decided it didn’t matter. You were so horny but you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t worth interrupting his work. 

Your flinger ran lower, gathering slick from your opening to pull up to your clit. You were far more sensitive than you expected, gasping at each teasing pass of your fingers over the bundle of nerves. Normally you wouldn’t be so wet, so sensitive without something or someone to get you going. 

Your finger slipped inside you easily. You were so wet and though you knew what you liked and how you liked it, you struggled to bring yourself close to your orgasm. Each caress left you gasping for breath and yet all it did was make you want more. 

A second finger slipped inside as you palmed your clit, trying to find that place inside you that Vox was so good at hitting. It was no use. 

Minutes ticked by as you were left panting and writhing under your own touch as nothing seemed to be good enough.

With a groan, you pulled your fingers out from your core, smearing slick up your mound as your hand went to rest on your lower abdomen. You were so horny, it wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t be so horny. 

In the back of your mind, you knew something was wrong.

Reaching into your nightstand you grabbed the small box inside. Within the box was the long smooth vibrator and the perfectly average dildo you’d had for longer than you cared to admit. It didn’t get much use and wasn’t worth upgrading. 

The reality was, you hadn’t had much need for them after you had fell into a relationship with Vox. Before Vox, you simply had your old trusty tools to get yourself off quickly and move on with your nights. 

As the vibrator came to life with the press of a button, you slipped the length easily into your sopping hole. The vibrations had your back arching as they moved through your insides. You moaned as you thrust it in and out slowly, ensuring it was coated with your slick before letting it run up to your clit. 

Again you tried to bring yourself to orgasm and yet all you managed to accomplish was working yourself up even more, making yourself more desperate as you clenched around nothing. You rarely had to go through this much effort to satisfy yourself and yet you still couldn’t get there. 

“Fuck,” you whined, grabbing the dildo and running the soft plastic along your slit to coat it with your slick. 

You were so wet and so sensitive and yet nothing was enough. The dildo filled you, slipping inside with the ease of a good fit. It didn’t stretch you or fill you the way Vox did but it felt good enough to have something to clench around. 

Working it in and out, you moaned. It wasn’t enough. You added the vibrator to your clit, holding it in place as you worked yourself over with the dildo. It still wasn’t enough. 

Rolling onto your stomach, you pulled your knees under your chest as you tried to fuck the dildo into you the way Vox would when he took you from behind. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend it was Vox fucking you but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. 

“Vox,” You whimpered, imagining his hands on your hips. When you couldn’t will the dildo inside you into being Vox’s, you tried to imagine it was his hands holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit. You tried to tell yourself it was his hands working the dildo in and out of your weeping hole. 

It didn’t stretch you the way Vox did. It didn’t fill you the way vox did. It didn’t call your name the way Vox did. 

“Please, Vox.” You whimpered, eyes closed as you tried so hard to bring yourself to the peak that still eluded you. Tears gathered in your eyes as you worked the dildo in and out, your arm sore from the repeated movements. “Miss you. Need you. Want you, Vox.” 

~~~~~<3

Vox walked into the dark apartment and glanced around, the dim red light of the windows filtered in through the privacy screens combined with the light from his screen to allow him to see his way. 

You hadn’t waited up for him but that was alright. It was late and you deserved your rest. He was mildly disappointed though, having wanted to spend some time with you. There wasn’t anyone he could blame for it though. He made his bed, may as well lay in it. 

He had been working too much lately, he knew that. The fact that you were so accommodating, so gracious about his work schedule was something he never wanted to take for granted. He had been, though. He knew that and he knew he needed to make it up to you. 

Dimming his screen, he tossed his jacket on the barstool next to the kitchen island and made his way through the space. It had been your apartment but in his heart, it felt more like home than his own penthouse did. That was why he never pressured you to move up into it with him or to find a better place. 

This was a space where Vox could just be Vox, not the King of the Tower. 

A sound caught his ear, one that he didn’t expect to hear. Turning toward her bedroom, he followed the sounds of soft sighing and squelching. It was the sounds of sex. 

His heart pounded in his chest, blood pumping hard through his audio processers. He had spent too much time away and if what he feared was happening was actually happening, he couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t blame you. 

Would he kill the man? Without a doubt. Would he be hurt? Sure. But he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to blame you. You wouldn’t have been the first to get tired of waiting for him and go on to find another to fill the place he so often left vacant. 

Opening the door, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. 

You were on the bed, on your knees and head down. Your ass was up, legs spread as you worked a pale pink dildo into your sopping cunt. Each weak thrust squelched as you gasped softly. A vibrator was held weakly in your hand, pressed against your clit from below. 

Your eyes were hardly more than slits, distracted by what you were doing. His presence wasn’t noticed as you softly called out his name again and again. 

There was no one else. There was no other man. You hadn’t replaced him, at least not with anything with a heartbeat. The attempt to replace him artificially was clearly unsuccessful. 

He knew you were not one that often took pleasure into your own hands. That wasn’t to say he had thought it never happened, just that he knew what was in the boxes in your nightstand just as much as he knew they had a lot of dust over their lids that had begun to build up. 

Never did he expect to walk into the bedroom and see this. The sight made his knees weak as he stumbled to the bed. The emotional whiplash of the last few minutes had his mind fuzzy and heart pounding. 

He wished he could smell the room. Did it smell like sex? Did it smell of your juices? 

You didn’t notice he was in the room even as he fell to his knees at the foot of the bed. Reaching out with trembling hands, he longed for the feeling of your skin under his touch. He was too entranced by the way you worked the dildo in and out of your wet cunt. 

When his hands made contact with the back of your thighs, you jumped. The dildo slipped from your hand and the vibrator fell to the bed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him. Vox couldn’t help but reach out, steading the dildo that was slowly was slipping from your hole. 

“Vox?” you whimpered as he pushed the dildo deeper. 

“What have you been up to?” Vox slipped the dildo out before pushing it back in again, fucking you with it again and again. “You seem needy. Been thinking about me?” 

“Please,” you whined, rocking your hips back into the dildo, “Please Vox. Need you.” 

“Alright,” Vox slipped the dildo from you, watching intently as your hole twitched, seeking the feeling of being filled. Rising from his knees, Vox set himself on the edge of the bed to toe off his shoes. “Let me-”

“Need you,” you whined, crawling across the bed to join him. 

You ran your hands along his back, moaning at the strong muscles under your hands. Pressing your naked front to him, you reached around to caress his chest and abdomen. You ran your hands across him, feeling the way he leaned into your touch. 

“You’re making this hard, dollface.” 

“I’ll make this harder,” you said, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. 

He was already hard, straining against the fabric prison he was in but you were determined to make him even harder. Breasts pressed tightly against his back, you worked his pants open and pulled him free before he had a chance to protest. 

The slight glow to his erect member was always one of the most beautiful sights. You loved that you could always find your way to him in the dark. His hips twitched, jumping under your hand as you caressed his length. 

“You gonna let me get undressed?” Vox’s voice glitched out for a moment, bright blue light flashing to bathe the room for a short moment. “I’m a bit overdressed still and you’re being distracting.”

“I need you,” if asked, Vox would say you poured around his side as if you had become liquid. 

“Be patient,” Vox ordered as you all but curled around him, mouth drawing close to his glowing cock while he worked his tie free from around his neck. 

You licked at the head of his cock, tongue greedy for the taste of him. His hands trembled as you wasted no time pulling his cock into your mouth, working to take him as deep as you could. 

“Fuck,” Vox’s fingers curled, claws slipping into your hair as he fought the urge to push your head down on his cock. 

Your pace was slow and greedy as Vox leaned back. He could see the curve of your breast , the soft lines of your body and feel your overwhelming warmth as you bobbed up his shaft until he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

His palm pressed against the back of your head, forcing your head down his length until the head of his cock pressed tightly against the back of your throat. You gagged on him, throat spasming around his length as you fought for breath. He let your head up so that you could gasp a breath, sputtering and coughing before he shoved your head back down again. 

As soon as he let you up again, you started crawling around him. Before he had a chance to think more about getting his clothes off, you were in his lap. With knees on either side of his hips, you kissed at where his neck peeked out from his open collar. 

“What are you-?” Vox’s voice was choked off as you sank down on his cock, sighing at the way his larger size stretched you in a way your little dildo didn’t.

You shifted your hips as you sank lower and lower, all but purring into him as your weight settled into his lap. Your hips rocked, rising and falling ever so slightly as you let your body adjust to the significant increase in size from your little dildo, letting him stroke every spot deep inside you. 

“Please,” your lips moved against the soft column of his neck, tongue tracing the line between his dark blue skin and the collar of his shirt. “Need you, Vox. Need you so bad.” 

“You have me, doll.” Vox’s hands grip your hips as his voice distorts, static snow covering his screen for a moment. “Fuck, you have me.” 

You rose up off his cock until only his head was kissing your entrance. After a moment, you sank again, slowly. You bounced as his hips and thighs made contact with you again. Each time you repeated this process, you did it a little faster.

You were fucking yourself with him just as you had fucked yourself with the little pink dildo. Each time his cock filled you, it was so much more satisfying than anything you had been able to achieve yourself. 

Bouncing on him, you panted and gasped. Vox’s screen bathed your face and chest in a soft blue light as he sat, gripping your hips and watching you. His attention was divided, split between watching your cunt swallow his cock, staining his pants with your slick and the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. 

His audio input was flooded with the sound of your sopping core squelching around his cock and your panting breath, cries of his name on your tongue. He struggled to focus on you as the fans in the back of his screen kicked on. 

“Hold on,” his voice was garbled and his screen flashed bars and blue, “Babydoll-” 

Vox’s screen went blue, too bright as was his default setting. The message “Error 34.420 virus found: Came too fast, damn Babygirl” was written in bright white on the screen as his torso fell back, hitting the bed with a soft thud. 

You kept riding, working yourself on him as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls with the seed that was so unique to him. In the dim light of your bedroom, if someone had been looking in on their private moment, they would see the slight glow from his cum around your opening, coating his shaft as you lifted yourself off of him and smearing it onto his pants as you let yourself slip back over his length. 

“Error 404 message not found cowgirl position too good,” Displayed on the screen. 

Hiding your face from the bright light in his shoulder, you whined as you continued to ride him. Vox was nothing if not able to please, remaining hard inside you even as his systems came back online. 

It wasn’t enough, nothing felt like it was enough. 

Grinding against him, you fucked yourself with him as his systems processed. Tears pricked at your eyes and as you struggled to find the right way to stimulate yourself on his cock to make the fire burning in you lessen and bring the orgasm you so badly wanted to surface. 

Something was wrong with you and you knew you needed Vox to fix it. He was the only man in all of Hell that could fix it. 

His face went dark for a moment before coming to life again with a bright spark that grew and extended across the screen. It pulsed with his heartbeat for a moment before fading to reveal his bright eyes blinking to life with a deep moan. 

His fingers twitched against your hips as he finished booting up and returning to life. Strong hands and hard claws gripped you, running up and down your back as you fucked yourself onto him. 

“Doll,” His voice was thick as his nails lightly scratched down your back. “You good?”

“I need-” 

“What do you need, Baby?” As more systems came online again, he began trusting up into your lazily. “Tell me what I can do for you?”

“I want to come.” You whimpered as his arms tightened around you. “I get so close but I can’t. Please. Please make me come.” 

He leaned up, shifting your weight back into his lap as he pulled your face from his shoulder with a fist in your hair. You bumped your head on the corner of his screen but you hardly noticed the pain. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time you too a blow from his sharp edges. 

Vox kissed you deeply, static lips parting yours as he drank up your moans. He maneuvered you as if you weighed nothing, lifting you and placing your back on the bed. Your hand traveled down your body, fingers caressing your clit as you watched him lean back to admire the view. Arching, you writhed under his eyes, gasping as you fingered your sloppy hole, not giving a thought to the slightly glowing cum spreading on your fingers.

“Please, Vox. It’s so much- so much better with you inside me. It hurts less. Please, I need you back inside. Vox.” 

Clumsily, he kicked out of his pants. He shrugged his shirt off next as he covered your body with his. He wrapped your legs around his waist, mouth leaving electric kisses along your breasts as he lined himself up again.

“I’m right here, Doll. I’ve got you.”

He slipped in easily, spreading your walls around him. He groaned as he sank until his balls were flush with you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him. Nails dug into his thick blue skin. 

He wasted no time, beginning to thrust into you immediately, slowly at first but becoming quicker as you urged him on. You begged, pleaded as his pubic bone brushed against your clit with each thrust. 

Vox grabbed your hip with a hand, grip so strong his claws indented your skin. You only whined, ignoring the very real risk that his sharp claws would puncture your skin, placing all your trust in him to not hurt you. 

He hiked your hips up, snaking his hand under your lower back to do so, changing the angle of your body. This new angle forced the head of his cock to push and drag harshly against the front of your walls, bulging slightly against your abdomen. Harshly, be bullied the spot inside you that he knew would reliably have you seeing stars. 

He was not disappointed in the slightest with your reaction. Your mewls and gasps only encouraged him to continue, hitting that spot faster, harder. 

Leaning back, he pulled your hips up higher. You were spread out on the bed, hands gripping his strong forearms at times only to flop down to the bed when he would hit your core just right. 

“Vox,” his name was a prayer you couldn’t stop saying, “Please. So good, you make me feel so good. Want to cum so bad. Want to- need to.” 

“I’ve got you.” 

Vox’s claws dug into your skin, holding your hips tightly, allowing him to hold your hips and core suspended in the air as he rose on his knees, thrusting into you harshly. Your upper back and shoulders rested comfortably on the bed as you looked up at him through lust glazed eyes. 

Parted lips gasped his name as he gave you what you wanted. Your breasts shifted with every violent thrust into you. Your toes curled and fingers twisted into the blankets. The dim blue light of his screen reflected off your skin, highlighting every curve, including the ever so slight bulge as his cock continued to push out against you with each thrust. 

Vox’s hands were one of your favorite features. They were strong and powerful, yet capable of such sweet and gentle touches. There was another thing they were capable of. His claw rubbed against your clit, your lower back supported by his hand splayed under you. 

“Want to feel you cum, Babydoll.” Vox panted, fans whirling as he maintained his body temperature. 

Warmth spread over his fingertip before it shifted, static tingling over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Every thrust into you was paired with a rise in the static tingling against your clit. 

“Please,” tears rand own the sides of your face as you felt the way your slick dripped down your body, running up your back. Never had you been so wet. Never had you been so needy. Never had Vox gone more than one round with you but if you could think straight, you’d be thankful to know he could.

“Going to make you come undone,” Vox promised, smile and eyes both wide as he took in the fucked out state you were in. He didn’t know what had you so worked up or why, but he knew it was just for him. You were just for him. 

“Going to make you see stars. Going to make you- fffuck.” He groaned as your walls began to flutter and tighten around him. You were so close now. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. Fucking made for me. So needy, so fucking hot just for me. Just for me.”

You grabbed at your breast with a hand, pinching your nipple as he pulled your hips higher. He loomed over you, filthy words falling from his lips even as he looked down at you with love clear in his eyes. 

Reaching out for him, you ran your other hand along his chest as he folded closer to you. His heart thrummed under your fingers until your arm was too weak to support itself. Your hand flopped to the mattress above your head, spreading yourself across the bed just a little more as Vox watched you say his name as if it was the most important thing in the world. 

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Come on Babygirl. Want to feel you cum on my cock. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking cum like only I can make you.”

The static spread from your clit as he spike, dancing over your body in powerful little blue arcs of power, leaving the most pleasant zaps in their path. Each little zap stole your breath. Soon they concentrated on every place Vox knew you loved most. 

They tingled and zapped your nipples. Electric power danced over your throat, making muscles twitch as you failed to control your breathing. 

So close now.

The electricity ran over her legs and across her abdomen, tightening every muscle against her control. Blue sparks lit up the space between your bodies in little blue flashes as it played over your clit, Vox’s hand no longer needing to make contact with it to keep it stimulated. 

“Fffffuck,” His screen was glitching now, bars shooting across the surface and distorting his face as you clenched tightly down on his cock. 

Your back arched and twitched, fingers gripping whatever they could reach as your body convulsed around him. Each contraction of your cunt had him moaning, voice glitching as much as his screen as he fought to stay present and ride out your much sought after orgasm.

You screamed his name as the twisting pressure crested and white hot pleasure burned every nerve ending in your body as it snapped. Vox fell forward, holding your hips tightly as he fucked you through it. 

“So good,” He praised in that garbled voice that told you how close he really was again, “Such a good fucking doll. Fucking came so hard for me. Feel so good. Squeezing me so good. So good.”

He fell to his side, pulling you onto your side as your body continued to flinch and clench with every ounce of stimulation he gave you. His screen was glitching more as your begging shifted into words of praise and thanks, basking in the sweet relief and aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Babygirl,” Vox said, “Doll, I’m- I’m going to- going to cum agai-” 

His screen went blue as you felt his cock twitch with the force of his second orgasm. More cum painted your insides as fans ran at high speeds. Fingers gripped you, holding you close enough to feel his thundering heart under his dark skin while his hips rocked against you. 

“Error Code 34 Message not found. Please reboot.” Displayed on his too bright screen when you glanced up at your lover as he stilled, finally feeling spent and at peace. “Orgasm over ride. System Vox.exe has stopped working due to overuse. Vox.exe Unresponsive. Please reboot.” 

You fell asleep to the soft sounds of your boyfriend, the powerful tech overlord rebooting slowly with you tucked into his arms and under the hard edge of his screen.

~~~~~<3

Vox blinked the sleep from his eyes as he leaned over the coffee machine, willing the pot to fill faster. He was tired, his muscles were sore and he didn’t get nearly enough sleep but it was worth it. 

Whatever the hell had gotten you in that mood last night, he needed to figure it out and repeat it. He had woken after just four hours of sleep and sacrificed his early morning work in favor of scrolling through your history. 

Was it invasive? Probably. He wasn’t known for respecting privacy. It couldn’t have been something he did, he hadn’t been around. While he clutched the first cup of coffee from the second pot, he again went over what you’d been watching and found nothing that would have made you so desperate for him. 

He found nothing in your message history either, with him or anyone else. There was nothing in your reading history, your internet tabs. Nothing. 

There was equally no trace of whoever had sent you the flowers he was currently fondling. He found no record of you purchasing the flowers for yourself so someone had to have sent them. 

He was just getting ready to dig into finding out who when the buzzer on the door rang. 

Opening the door, he almost dropped his mug at who was on the other side of the door. “Val?” 

“Vox?” 

“What are you doing here?” They asked in unison, both demons not really used to interacting with the other in the early morning hours. Wide eyes blinked nakedly, both sets exhausted. 

Vox hadn’t seen Valentino awake before noon unless he just hadn’t gone to sleep yet and even that was a rarity after five.

Valentino hadn’t expected to find Vox casually dressed on one of the lower, cheaper floors of the tower. 

Vox crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe and drinking casually from the black mug in his hand. He crossed his ankles as he narrowed his eyes, “It’s my girlfriend’s unit. Why are you here?”

Val’s big bug eyes blinked at Vox, processing the information slowly. “My… My flowers were delivered to the wrong floor.” 

Vox relaxed instantly, easy smile returning to his face as he disappeared inside. He reappeared with the flowers in hand. “I wondered where they came from.” 

“Right,” Valentino looked from the flowers Vox deposited in one of his sets of hands and back to his partner. “And you’re… feeling okay?” 

“Sore,” Vox laughed, “Been a long night if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” Valentino blinked again, “Right.” 

“Been busy,” Vox nodded, “She was feeling a bit extra needy.” 

“I’m sure she was.” Valentino said, looking down at the flowers again. “Was there a cover for the blooms?” 

“Not that I saw,” Vox shrugged. 

“Vox?” You called from in the room, his too big button down draped over your frame as you made your way over to him, sleepily wrapping your arms around his chest as you pressed your front against his back. “Is everything alright?” 

“Just some business,” He answered before looking back at Valentino. “This stays under wraps.”

“Right,” Valentino said again as Vox shut he door in his face, leaving Valentino alone to figure out how to get through the tower and back to his studio with uncovered sex flowers. He had to find a way without having half the employees dropping their pants and starting an orgy before the cafeteria had even ended breakfast service. 

Valentino looked down at the flowers, enjoying the way their pollen made his spine tingle. His power mingled with them to keep him under his own control but he hadn’t expected to find Vox unaffected but it sounded like his girl was. 

For a moment, Valentino lingered at the door, considering telling Vox before changing his mind. It wasn’t his business. 

[voxsremotec0ck]

Multi prompt! How does everyone deal with having a celebrity crush on a celebrity!reader? And how does it go when they're finally able to meet celebrity!reader?

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭.ᐟ

⋆｡ﾟYou’re a big time celebrity and they’re your biggest fan ﾟ｡⋆

— Velvette, Adam, Vox, Blitzø

Velvette loved how fashionable and trendy you were. She honestly took a lot of inspiration from you and really wanted to work with you but never got the balls to reach out. It was rare for her to be so star struck by someone but when it was you who reached out to collaborate she nearly screamed.

Adam would never admit to being in awe of someone. Being the first man and all it was stupid for him to be impressed by anyone other than God. Yet when the two of you met for the first time, he finally had to admit that he understood all the love you got.

Vox is up to date on all the latest celebrities and when you popped up seemingly overnight, you caught his attention. He kept track of you after that, trying to figure out a way for you to partner with Voxtec. When he finally got an idea on how to bring you into the company, he had his assistant book a meeting.

Blitzø has posters of you plastered on his walls and he’s constantly looking to see if anyone had leaked nudes of you. It was the best day of his life when you came into his office asking for bodyguard service, which they DEFINITELY provided fuck off Moxie. He made his interest in you very obvious and depending on how you respond, the night would end in both of you in bed together.

I can’t FUCKING sleep so here

[silkythewriter]

Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version

Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!

Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!

(￣▽￣)💧

Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ﾉ ≧∀≦)ﾉ

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️

★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★

“In the morning, you would gone

I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To

the memory of your lips God,

I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“

★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

Devastated, like actually in greif

After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)

He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!

The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!

Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…

Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!

He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”

Yea expect those a lot…

He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.

And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.

Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.

He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.

He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.

And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.

It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و

Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?

In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?

Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care

How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?

We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.

It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!

He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)

To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.

At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)

Now you can decide weather you accept or not!

But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything

Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)

Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”

You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.

I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn

He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.

Yea he is one complicated man….

But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope

NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.

I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”

News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that

I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)

Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩

★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★

WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH

ヘ（。□°）ヘ

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiii! Can I request headcanons on what vox would be like as a father of a teen daughter? I feel like he'd be great to gossip with and would tell her to slap any boy that hits on her

Vox absolutely fucking would do this, and he is that type of girl dad to loudly brag that his Princess is cuter than every other father’s! Vox be like: ‘You wish your daughter was as cute as mine’

Vox- Baby Laptop

Vox is extremely doting and loving but extremely protective. Like, he has cameras and drones following you, his fifteen-sixteen year old human life AND demon life daughter, around all the time. You can’t leave the tower without him knowing and he won’t condone you walking around Hell without ALL his bodyguards escorting you

Vox is a bragger. He brags and he flexes what he has so when it comes to you, he is one-upping every known mother and father in the Pride Ring and flaunting his precious babygirl with no hesitation. You’re beautiful and Hell deserves to bask in your presence… according to Vox

Remember, your dad is the technology Overlord. The one in charge of every device in this city, so of course, he is kept to date with every trend or phrase or online concept and he always gives you the latest model his slaves team manufacture. He spoils you since it’s the main sign of his love

Vox is basically your best gossip buddy and no matter how busy he is, he’ll make time to talk to you. Call him, he’ll answer and whilst he works, he’ll listen to you and he remembers it. He has a good open ear and a good sense of ‘fuck you all’ so he’ll get rather into your gossip pieces and consider asking Velvette to spread them through her social media influence

Vox is more than capable of getting sweet, soft and emotive with you. He always proclaims to you, with his whole heart, that he puts you out because he’s proud of you and adores you and he wants you to have everything when back on Earth, he could barely give you anything

Yes. Vox loves you MORE than he likes messing with Valentino so if Valentino dares to hit you, your father is bolting across the room at mach speeds to make his on-and-off boyfriend regret putting his hands on you. You’re his spoiled little princess and nobody touches you! You’re too valuable!

Vox has a picture of you in his wallet and in his suit pocket. So, whilst he is working tirelessly throughout the days and hasn’t seen you in a while. He’ll pick either photograph out and admire it. Both are direct recreations of photographs he owned when both of you were humans

Like Carmilla Carmine with her two daughters, Vox likes to have you occasionally work for him and occasionally means occasionally. Vox only cares that you’re happy so if you want to spend all day everyday in your big fancy room in his tower free of stress, he lets it!

However. Vox, of course, teaches you important life skills. He didn’t get a chance to when both of you were humans on Earth so he is now. Every night, he teaches you to cook recipes, he teaches you to do basic chores, he teaches you how to balance any money you earn

Vox almost views you as the cute babygirl he had back on Earth. The little five year old that was so happy to see him come home after so long of working so hard as a TV salesman in the late 1940s. The little girl who needed him to go to sleep at night, the precious darling who claimed she’d grow up and become a saleswoman too!

Vox does baby you and he doesn’t regret it. He coodles, he snuggles, he baby talks, he coos. He does all of it because he loves you dearly, you’re the single thing that drove him to become a Overlord, you’re the single thing that motivated him to become one of the strongest Overlords in Hell, you’re the single thing that even brought him to work with technology

Vox had always taught you; ‘if a boy or a girl hits on you, slap them’ and that became your norm. You come home, Vox asks what happened and you tell him. He is always happy to hear that you don’t let anybody bother you

The only criticism or advice Vox will take for his products is you so when you say something doesn’t work or needs improvement. He takes it and throws it at his workers so they can fix the issue. He doesn’t care what his clients think, he cares what his own flesh and blood thinks

Vox loves how you have his TV head and even gets you to wear a matching outfit with him as a cute father-daughter joke. He likes it, it’s adorable. You look like such a badass business lady! He is that type of dad that will embarrass you with how much he loves you

Talking about a father-daughter situation, Vox has the weekends booked all for you. Two father-daughter days out so you two go to the shops, get drinks, gossip more, talk shit about Alastor, go egg the Hazbin Hotel, then go to visit the Vees to chat or maybe have finner, then pick up a movie suggestion to go watch a movie together whilst cuddling! Vox loves these days since he is truly himself when he’s with you

Vox legit has you in his contacts as; ‘My precious darling princess’

“Darling, Princess. It’s time to wake up, we’re going out together! Yes. To the movies and to the shops. I heard that old timey prick is in a Hotel so let’s go egg it once we’re done, ‘kay? Great, I’ll be waiting for you, pumpkin”

[redvexillum]

Chapter 2 - Unclean Signal

A/N: Oh my, what will reader do now with Vox's new business partner?

TAGS/WARNING: f!reader, married to vox, vox does love reader, infidelity, non-sex repulsed alastor, alastor is in hell for a reason, soft alastor, jerk alastor, possessive, no use of y/n, vox tries, reader tries, alastor being alastor, alastor is a control freak, power imbalance, attempted handy

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Unlike Valentino and Velvette, Vox’s other business partners, Alastor was the only one who appeared in your home every day without Vox. You would find him lounging on the balcony with a steaming cup of coffee, always the same red mug with a ridiculous print that read Oh Deer!—a pun you didn’t understand and never dared to ask about.

At first, his presence unsettled you. He wasn’t loud, not invasive in the obvious sense, but his silent occupation of your space felt like a violation of the fragile routine you clung to. Your smiles were tight and your greetings even tighter, whispered softly before you disappeared into the safety of your room. He never followed. He never demanded your attention. He would only look up, grin with an unreadable glint in his crimson eyes, raise a brow, and nod.

This pattern continued for weeks. You grew used to it. Not comfortable, but accustomed. Eventually, you stopped trying to pretend it was temporary. It became part of your new normal, the one where you spent most of your hours confined behind your bedroom door, your life shrinking smaller with each passing day.

That was why your heart nearly burst when Vox came home early.

For once, he walked through the bedroom door before you had fallen asleep. Sitting up in bed, heartbeat quickening, you chewed your lips in equal parts anticipation and anxiety. The silk of your nightgown clung to your skin, a deep royal blue that shimmered in the low light. The lace trim traced the curve of your breasts like a whispered invitation, and beneath, the sheer lingerie barely clung to your body at all. You had chosen it carefully, hoping tonight might be different, special. 

You waited, twisting your fingers in your lap, watching as Vox stepped inside the bedroom with a long yawn. He wore baby blue pinstriped pajamas, looking soft and cozy and entirely unaware of the effort you had poured into tonight.

“Hey,” you murmured, your voice dipped low and warm. “Long day?”

He groaned as he climbed into bed, his head tilting back against the pillow. “Fuck, yeah. Long as hell.”

You leaned toward him, letting your leg slide up to press against his, the hem of your nightgown slipping higher, revealing the smooth skin of your thigh. 

His hands remained still. He didn’t touch you, but he didn’t pull away either. It was like touching a statue—present, but distant.

You let your hand drift down the centre of his torso, fingers gliding with feather-light teasing over the waistband of his pajama pants, until you grazed the base of his cock. It was soft. Waiting. Like him.

“Let me help you relax,” you offered, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with longing.

Vox opened one eye, giving you a lazy, crooked smile. “Yeah? Been a while, doll, hasn’t it?”

Your heart fluttered with delicate joy. He was receptive. Finally, finally, something. “Yeah… it has,” you whispered, so softly the words nearly dissolved in the air between you. “So let me make you feel good, love.” Your lips pressed tenderly to the cool surface of his monitor-shaped head, a gesture that felt like both worship and plea.

Vox hummed in reply, his groan low and content, and his glowing eyes slowly dimmed as his lids drifted closed. Encouraged, you slid your hand beneath his waistband, your fingers gliding over his soft skin. You began to stroke him gently, slow and rhythmic, the way you remembered he liked. Up and down, your thumb brushing the sensitive slit, coaxing him with the kind of familiarity that once made his breath hitch and his hips buck into your palm.

“'S good,” he mumbled, the sound barely audible, more like a sigh as he relaxed into your touch.

But something was wrong.

You could feel it—he wasn’t hardening like he used to. In fact, he was softening. Your heart skipped, then sank. You paused, looking up at his face. The glowing screen was dim now, the logo bouncing in silence.

He was asleep.

He had fallen asleep.

Your hand froze against his body, the stillness between you so loud it rang in your ears. Slowly, carefully, you withdrew your touch. The warmth you had tried so desperately to build between you cooled like dying embers in a fireplace. You sat back on your knees, staring down at yourself. The silk of your nightgown clung to the curve of your breasts, the lace now looking cheap and desperate, your body aching with need that had nowhere to go.

Your vision blurred as hot tears welled and spilled down your cheeks unexpectedly. You couldn’t stop them. You didn’t even try. Your hands folded together in your lap, squeezing tightly, like if you held yourself hard enough you could stop your heart from shattering.

But the damage had already been done.

Insecurity flooded you. A quiet, creeping monster. It slithered beneath your skin, into your bones, whispering cruel things you had tried so hard to forget.

You were no one. You had always been no one.

Back then, before everything, you were just a small-town girl in Louisiana. You sang in smoky bars and roadside diners, your voice your only gift, and even that felt fragile. You had nothing. Just the will to be heard. The locals called you Canary, a sweet nickname for a voice that tried to brighten the lives of the tired, the drunk, the lonely.

And you had been content.

Your dreams had been small. A radio debut, maybe. Singing on air for your hometown. That would have been enough. But then he came.

Vox. The man in the tailored suit, visiting on a business trip, with a jaw that could cut glass and a smile that made your heart flutter even before he spoke. He had charm, poise, and promises that sounded like fairy tales. He told you he loved you the moment he heard your voice, and you believed him. He swept you into his world with glittering hands and gave you everything you thought you ever wanted.

Fame. Fortune. Adoration.

But more than anything, you wanted love. You had fallen in love with him. 

You still were.

You told yourself you still were.

You had to be.

It began like any other day. Vox had already left before your eyes even fluttered open, leaving behind nothing but the cool imprint of his absence on the sheets. The silence of the penthouse pressed in around you like it always did. You followed your usual routine, getting ready with deliberate care, trying to craft some semblance of perfection. A picture-perfect wife, even if no one was watching.

When you stepped into the living room, there he was—Alastor. Just as he always was, seated in his usual spot on the balcony with a steaming cup of coffee, that strange red mug cradled between his long fingers. You offered him a shy smile, the kind born out of polite habit more than warmth. Your head dipped slightly, and your eyes avoided his gaze, ready to slip back to your room like a ghost.

But something changed.

He didn’t offer his usual curt nod. There was no polite distance today. Instead, he was suddenly there, in front of you, as though he had been carved out of the shadows themselves. One moment he was seated, and the next, he was blocking your path, his presence cold and looming despite the warmth of his smile.

You startled, instinctively stepping back. “Oh, h-hello,” you stammered, your voice small. Your hands quickly folded together, fingers twisting nervously. You bowed your head without thinking, the motion ingrained in you after Vox's many quiet warnings. Alastor was an overlord, a powerful one, and not all were merciful.

“My,” Alastor’s voice rang out, high and bright, touched with that ever-present mockery. It wasn’t what he said but the way he said it, like every word was a performance, like you were too pitiful not to be amusing.

You flinched when you felt his fingers—two warm, gloved fingertips—under your chin, urging your face upward. They were surprisingly gentle, coaxing rather than forcing. You resisted the instinct to look away, your lashes fluttering before your eyes finally met his.

“What made you cry, my sweet little Canary?”

The air stilled. You went cold.

That name. You hadn’t heard that name from anyone in years. He had said it when you first met, but you hadn’t linger on it for too long at the time. You had let it pass. Now, it crashed into you like a forgotten wave, pulling you back into memory.

You blinked at him, throat tightening. “I’m sorry?” you asked, dazed. Your hands flew to your cheeks as if they could hide the truth. You thought you had concealed the evidence. You powdered your face. You smiled in the mirror. You pressed your lips into that perfect shape Vox once said made you look “marketable.” But still, somehow, Alastor had seen through it all.

He knew.

You had cried that morning. You cried because the bed was cold again. Because Vox had not held you. Because the night before, you had tried to reach him, and he had drifted into sleep without even noticing your touch.

And you were so tired of pretending.

“Come,” Alastor said softly. His hand settled on your back with disarming care. You should have stepped away, but instead, your body moved as if bewitched. He led you to the love seat, and you sat without protest, your knees brushing his as he sat beside you.

He folded his hands neatly and tilted his head, still smiling, though his crimson eyes never left your face. “Considering I am your husband’s business partner, I believe it’s only right I look after his… wife.”

The way he said it—husband, wife—something about it crackled with static, like the word didn’t quite sit right in his mouth. Like he didn’t believe it.

You shook your head, flustered. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“No,” he interrupted brightly, his voice melodic, almost theatrical. “I insist.”

His words reminded you of old radio shows you used to listen to as a child, the ones where the announcer’s voice was clipped and fast, full of flair. Always delivering the news with a grin you could hear even through the static. There was a strange comfort to it, and a strange dread.

Because this voice was close. Too close.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen.

You never set out to betray anyone. But isolation was a cruel and silent killer, and you had been suffocating in it for far too long. Every day spent locked in that golden cage, every night curled beneath cold sheets that once smelled of love, every moment spent tiptoeing around Hell with lips sealed tight fearing smearing your husband's name. It had worn you thin.

You were tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of smiling. Tired of breaking behind closed doors with no one to see you shatter.

So when warmth finally came—real, tangible warmth—it undid you.

You tried to hold back. You tried to measure your words, choosing only the ones that painted you as foolish, and never Vox as cruel. You swallowed your pain like poison and smiled through it. You insisted it was your fault.

You were the silly one.

You were the one who wasn’t beautiful enough.

You were the one who just… wasn’t enough.

But as the minutes dragged on and your chest cracked wider, your words came faster, flooding out from some desperate, aching place you didn’t even realize was starving. And Alastor? He just listened. Fully, completely, as if he had all the time in the world. As if your voice weren’t noise, but something worthwhile.

His eyes never wandered. His expression never mocked. There was something reverent in the way he looked at you.

Then he said it.

He said you were beautiful.

That your voice was lovely. That the first time he heard you sing, he couldn’t breathe.

You blinked, stunned, lips parting in disbelief. “When did you hear me sing?”

He tilted his head, smile never fading. “Does it matter?” he said softly, voice dipped in honey and static. “The moment I heard you, I was… absolutely smitten.”

And… that did something to you.

To be wanted.

Truly, completely wanted.

Maybe that was your sin. The hunger for love. For warmth. For a hand reaching out when yours had been shaking in the dark for so long.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, your body leaned forward.

Your lips found his.

The contact was warm and trembling. Your wedding ring caught the light like a cruel reminder, a single tear frozen in metal. It pressed coldly against his chest, as if to mock you.

Then came the silence.

He didn’t kiss you back.

Realization hit you like a blow to the chest. Your breath stuttered as you jerked away, shame rising hot and choking up your throat. Your lips trembled. The sting of embarrassment burned at your eyes.

“I—I…” Your voice cracked, barely audible beneath the chaos in your mind. 

Whore. Slut. Hussy.

You could already hear the screams. You could already see Vox’s face.

You should beg. You should plead. Apologize a thousand times and fall to your knees if that’s what it took.

But then…

Alastor’s hand slid behind your head, slow and certain, cradling you like something delicate. Like something precious.

And he kissed you.

Deeply.

Firmly.

Hungrily.

Like he had been waiting.

And just as your breath caught in your throat, just as your heart lunged into turmoil of guilt and longing, he whispered—

“Let me show you what it feels like… to be adored.”

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