go on, fetch!

[ VOXTEK — TRUST US WITH YOUR IMAGE! ]

* like a sinner (before the gates of heaven) - VOX/READER

-> Dom Vox + hypnosis kink! (NSFW 18+)

* everything goes (according to plan) - VOX/READER

-> Sub Vox + face (screen) sitting! (NSFW 18+)

* we want it! (come and get it baby!) - VOX/READER

-> Whiny sub Vox + lazy mornings! (Mature themes)

* never they ponder (weather electric) - VOX/READER

-> Dom Vox + electro/shock kink! (NSFW 18+)

* last chance (to lose control) - VOX/READER

-> Switch Vox + wire play! (NSFW 18+)

* need you around (getting close now) - VOX/READER

-> Soft + slow riding with Vox! (NSFW 18+)

* video girl (in a digital world) - VINCENT WHITTMAN/READER

-> Sub Vincent + broadcast background (NSFW)

* good luck! (i’m hard to please) - VELVETTE/READER

-> Velvette teasing + outfit modeling! (NSFW 18+)

[ THANKS FOR TUNING IN, LISTENERS! ]

* no one (unless that someone is you) - ALASTOR/READER

-> Sex-neutral Ace Alastor + lazy mornings! (Mature themes)

[ A SONG SUNG BEFORE — CHARACTER SHIPS! ]

* chasing (a dream) - LUCILITH

-> Lilith is losing her humanity as the first Sinner in Hell. Can his love push through that? (ANGST)

———

CW: porn with veryyyy little plot, soft + top velvette, sub reader, established relationship. teasing, praise kink, oral sex (reader receiving), inappropriate use of two (2) measuring tapes, the WORKS! no y/n, gn!reader (no pronouns/genitals explicitly stated — since she is canonically a lesbian, this was written with a fem and/or nb!reader in mind!), fluffyyy

———

“Why am I here again?”

It’s like you’ve been standing here for hours, watching her snap item after item onto your body. The lights surrounding the platform are bright and overwhelming, showing off every angle of your body in harsh LEDs against racks of clothes.

Velvette turns from her tablet, piercing eyes back on you and, more importantly, the neon green nightmare she currently has you in. “Listen, I told you none of my other models would be up this late. Didn't you agree to help me?”

The fabric rustles as you shift your weight in the matching shoes she’s created. “I thought you meant looking through a line of clothes, Vel.” She pulls up a hologram as you talk, scrolling through patterns in a similar style to your outfit. You cross your arms, fabric creaking again, “I'm like your personal mannequin! Even though we both know this green is not my color.”

She smiles at you through the projection, giving you a once over as she pulls up a different screen, “You look hot to me. Like, good. But what do I know, right? Just the Fashion Overlord…”

Another tap of the hologram shows a color palette, and she swings the image towards you, moving a step backwards to examine your outfit. “What do you think about—“ Before you even have a chance to chime in, she snaps her fingers, “—Nope, got it! That sage is totally a hit right now. Basically a neutral with the way everyone’s working it into the shows.”

Your outfit changes with a flash of purple as the neon melts to a lighter, softer green. You look back in the mirrors, spinning away from her to admire the color, “Oh, I love this! I saw this the other day in that, uh, Equinox show, right?”

She beams in the reflection behind you before hiding her face with the palette again. “I know, I’m a genius. You don’t even have to tell me.” As you turn around again, her head comes back into view. Her eyes are narrowed, calculating and scanning your figure, as her eyebrows scrunch in thought. She looks back at a screen, then you, “Does that feel tight on you? I might've screwed with your measurements.”

You shift again, flustering a little under the close scrutiny around your chest, waist, thighs, hips— “Well, maybe a little? It’s a tighter fit, right? I thought that was intentional.”

Velvette moves back towards you, screen vanishing as her eyes land on your waist. “Not too tight though. You wanna look fit, but not like I forced you into anything.” You give her a look as she meets your eyes, and she waves a hand at you, scowling, “Oh, don’t you even start with that again! You love this as much as you love me.”

You grin as she looks away, skin deepening with a flush as you nod, shrugging. She claps, and two different measuring tapes unravel with a puff of smoke, quickly moving towards the platform you’re on. You tense up as they start to swirl around you, starting with your arm length.

Grabbing her physical tablet again, she starts to write down numbers as the tapes move on to your shoulders. With a huff, she summons a stool, stepping up to your height as she pushes your shoulders down, “Relax, yeah? They’ll be off if you stay like a statue.” Her hands rub small circles into your arms, drifting down the slope of your shoulders, and you melt under her smooth touch. The almost plastic feel of her skin is cool against yours, flushed from the heat of the lights and her attention on you.

She steps down, looking up at you from her notes as you try to stay relaxed under her stare. You can feel heat spreading across your face as the tapes work their way down across your chest, softly moving against you with a feather-light touch. She pauses as the measuring tape slows down, squeezing slightly. You break into a stuttering gasp as they flick, almost intentionally, against your nipples through the fabric, “Vel—“

She hums as she records the measurement, watching as you sigh against the roll sliding further down your chest. It tightens again against your ribs, and this time, she reaches up to pull it closer to your frame, “Just making sure it’s right. Gotta measure your underbust.” You shiver as she traces down to your stomach, then back up to the markings. With a tug, both tapes are circling your waist, pulling you towards her waiting hands. You wobble slightly, gasping as she hooks her hands underneath the rulers to pull you over her. She smooths over the numbers before looking up through her lashes, “Relax, babe.”

She lets go, watching you shift your weight back to your normal height as she returns to her notes. The tapes, which had stopped under her hands, resume their path down your body, winding down to your legs to measure length. You relax as they work methodically, measuring your outer leg, knee, calves, until— “Is this really supposed to measure that high on my thigh?”

The tapes are wrapped around both of your thighs at the widest part, slowly moving higher on your leg as you flex against them. She looks over them with a hand on her hip, “Sorry, who knows what they’re doing here? Exactly.” Her eyes land back on your thighs, catching between each one. “Be good for me.”

As she writes down these numbers, you can feel the slow creep of the plastic inching up your legs, squeezing as they slide against your inner thighs. You squirm against them, sighing, “Yeah, I’ll be good— Be whatever you want, Vel.”

In a flash, she’s against you with a separate measuring tape in hand. Her hands trace the line of your waist, your stomach, down to pull the line around your hips, settling in front of you. She stares down at the numbers for a second, then five, and you flush under her gaze, “Something… wrong?”

She looks back up at your face, snapping out of whatever daze she was trapped in, “With you? Never.” The tape slides lower and lower in her hands, and you gasp as she pulls it tighter against you. You can feel the flush traveling down your neck as you try to relax.

She drops the tape, and it disappears with a flash as her hands fall against your thighs, tracing where the other measuring tapes meet your inner thigh. You shiver as her hands move higher, gasping, “Didn’t you want to record that number?”

Velvette’s eyes brush over you before coming back down to your thighs, “I'll have to get these first. I can't even really read them, why don’t you—“ Your legs move without warning, rulers pulling your thighs apart as she grabs at your hips to balance you. “Stay there for me, won’t you?” You can’t help but whine as she grabs at your inner thighs, working her hands higher under the guise of checking measurements. She inches closer, closer, closer to where you need her, and you try your best to not buck against her palms.

Suddenly, her touch is gone, and her heels click against the floor as she walks back over to her tablet. You sway a bit in place and bite back a groan, fabric shuffling as you try to bring your legs back together. Writing down some numbers, she looks up at you and raises an eyebrow, “Oh, don’t bother, honey.” She grins as you stay in place, legs apart from the tension of the tapes. “I just don’t need you making a mess all over this piece for next week’s show.”

You can’t help the way you squirm against the tapes as your hands flex helplessly at your sides. “A mess, huh?”

She looks over your outfit, and the whole thing melts away with a snap of her fingers, transforming into a soft, dark, and sheer slip. Your legs relax finally as the tapes disappear as well, and you reach to feel the fabric that barely hits your mid-thigh. Your hands reach up further; your breath catches in your throat, “No underwear? What would your audience think?”

You meet her eyes, white irises glowing against her dilated pupils. Her gaze slides down to where your hands rest, and her smile grows sharp, “They’d probably think you’re a bit of a slag for putting on a show.” Your hands fall, dropping the fabric as you flush deeper, and she cackles as she makes her way back towards you. “Anyway, we won’t need the matching set now, right?”

Her hands come back to your thighs, and you whine at her cool touch on your burning skin, “Shit— Please, doll, Vel—“

“So good for me.” She moves to finally, finally, cup her hand against you. You melt into her instantly, panting as you chase her touch. Your eyes roll back as she continues to move, covered in more slick as she speeds up. Your groans fill the empty studio along with the sound of her panting and the wet slide of your skin.

You lose yourself in the feeling of her hand on you and her other hand reaches for yours, pulling it towards her. She kisses at your knuckles, your palm, your fingertips, leaving lipstick stains as you sigh, cradling her face. She brings your hand up to her hair, an intricate braided design with a heart motif on the scalp, and leans in towards your hips.

The warmth as her lips taste you contrasts the cool touch, and you buck into her waiting mouth with a broken moan, hand already woven through her braids. You move together as you chase your own high, slip shifting around you as she works her hand and mouth against you. The sound of her zipper coming undone is almost lost in the pleasure surrounding you, and you realize her other hand is snaking down to touch herself. Your hand flexes against her scalp as you pant, “Wanna touch you, make you— Fuck, wanna make you— make you feel good too—“

She hums against you, panting as she moves to kiss along your hips. Her other hand comes up to grab at your thigh, wet from her own touch as she looks up at you, “We’ve got time. I've got all sorts of other things I need to see you in…” Your protest turns into a sigh as her lips move back down towards you, hand still against her scalp. She laps against you, just once, to watch you shudder as she traces hearts into your thigh. “Let me do this first?”

Your hand moves without thinking to pull her back in, and she doubles her efforts, tongue and hand working as both of your moans build. You can hear her slick building up as she chases her high as well as yours, and you both lose yourselves to your own pleasure. You grab at her with both hands, pulling her closer and closer with every thrust of your hips as your eyes roll back, “Vel— V— Fuck, I’m— I—“

Velvette’s tongue is relentless as your orgasm crashes over you, leaving your knees weak as you nearly fall off of the platform you’re on. She pulls away slowly, grabbing at your hips to lead you to a sitting position on the floor in front of her. As you shake off the overstimulation, her grin grows wider and wider, smudged with lipstick and your slick, “So, thoughts about this lingerie line? I think it’ll be popular—“ She gasps, nearly vibrating as you stare at her in shock, “—A brighter purple would be fab! Babe, would you…?”

You can’t help the laugh that comes out of you in sheer bewilderment. You hold out your arms, sitting as tall as you can on the raised step, “Go ahead, doll. What color are you thinking?”

Her eyes light up, and with another snap, the slip is a gorgeous violet against your body. She grins as you look over the color, reaching for your waist, "I knew there was a reason I like you.”

You pull her towards your lap, watching her squirm as your hands land near her open zipper. You smile at her as she bucks her hips without thought, settling over one of your thighs with a sigh. You gently trace along the waistline of her panties, “Hopefully you can think of at least one other reason?” Her laugh breaks into a moan as you feel her slick through the fabric, and you grab at her waist with your other hand, “How good are your powers at getting stains out, Vel? In case we make a mess?”

———

hope you enjoyed!!! first time writing vel and getting used to her characterization… WE NEED MORE WLW/NBLW CONTENT IM DYING YALL </3

CW: dry humping, humiliation + begging (yay!), sub vincent, he’s a prettyyyyyyyy boyyyyy guys, fucking vincent while watching his broadcast WHO SAID THAT, making out, praise kink, fluffy!! cute!! established relationship!!, no y/n, GN reader (no genitals named!)

*heads up! some older actors/pop culture refs in here. scroll to bottom if you get lost along the way!*

———

Tonight is slow. In the warm summer heat, it’s hard for anything to get done, too muggy outside to even hang laundry. The humid air clings to your skin, even in the cool indoors, and coats the whole day in molasses.

This is not how he works. Everything is fast-paced, a neverending race against the tide of the up-and-coming. He claims that the race of technology forces him to work more and more, even though you know his workload is his own doing. Owning a broadcast station takes time, but not that much time. So you lay, barely dressed on your sofa, watching the six o’clock news – he still makes appearances often, though he’s not a newscaster anymore. Always, always doing something there.

You hear keys jingle in the door as the familiar news reel begins, and you turn to face him, sitting up against the arm of the couch. Vincent walks in like he stepped out of a magazine – hair gelled, suit pressed, briefcase in hand, smiling. He reaches for his glasses, tucked away in his coat pocket, before turning to look around. Shrugging off his shoes and jacket, you can see the tension melt out of him as he meets your eyes, “Hi, sweetheart. You miss me?”

You reach for him, and he circles the sofa without a second thought, practically falling into your hands with a sigh, “What’cha watchin’...” You both watch as his face pops up on the screen, thanking their sponsors and viewers for contributions to the station. He groans over his own voice, burying his face in your chest, “I just left there, and now you got it on here? Baby, you’re trying to kill me.”

You smile down at him and run your hands through his hair, ruffling the pomade out of the ends, “I do miss you, y’know? Thought I might see you on there tonight.” He hums into your shirt, hands coming up to wrap around you in return. You look back at the screen, wrapping up his brief prerecorded intermission, “Shame they can’t see how pretty you look in color, huh?”

He squirms, grabbing at your hands as he looks up at you, “Hey, I’m not– I’m–” His face flushes as you hold his hands in front of you both, running over his knuckles. He sits up, pulling his hands away to lean back on as he moves, “Not ‘pretty’, I’m like, handsome, right? Something manly. Not ‘pretty’ like–” He tries to smooth down the hair you’ve ruffled, straightening his glasses as you grin at him, barely holding back a laugh. “Why are you smiling?! You’re not funny!”

You lean towards him, watching the flush grow to his ears, “Yeah, sure. You’re a ‘Donna Reed’ type, Vinny.” He sputters as you laugh, crowding him against the other arm of the couch, looking over his rumpled clothes. You take his glasses in your hands, removing the frames from his face with a smile. You look into the green and blue, watching them dilate as you bring a hand to cup his cheek, “Maybe more of a ‘Gracie Allen’?”

He scoffs as you cackle, grabbing the glasses from your hands to put them on the coffee table next to you. “Quit messing with me, you know I’m like a ‘Clark Gable’, right?” His hands come up to cradle your head, pulling you into a mimicry of a classic movie poster. You crane your head up to look at him, arms pressed against his chest, “Does this make me ‘Vivian Leigh’? Is this your way of letting me down easy?” You both dissolve into laughter as he pushes you towards your original spot, hovering over you as your arms and legs tangle together.

The news rattles on in the background as he buries his face in your neck, kissing a path up to your jaw as your laughter settles. He plants a kiss behind your ear, softly sighing next to you, “I really don’t mean to stay so long. Let me make it up to you?”

His hand comes up to rest against your cheek, and you drag him in a bruising kiss, swallowing his groans as you grab at his tie. You gasp as he trails back down the curve of your neck, across your collarbones, against the collar of your shirt. One hand snakes up to rest behind your neck as the other comes up to follow his lips, tracing a path to your chest under the thin fabric of your shirt. He looks back up at you through dark eyelashes, eyes and stark hair caught in the glow of the television screen and evening sun, and smiles as you whine under him.

As he reaches for the bottom of your shirt, you fight to undo his button-down, dragging his tie to fall loosely from his collar. You get caught in a mess of clothes, both trying to help each other, until he finally presses into you again, boxing you into the cushions in just his A-shirt and slacks. The summer heat clings to your skin as you slide against each other, lost in gasps and moans as the time wears on, minutes passing between each other’s lips. A tug of his hair has him whining into your kiss, panting as you pull back to mouth at his neck, “Baby— Shit—“

Your hands move down to his pants, grabbing at belt loops to pull him flush against you with a whine, “Vinny, fuck— So pretty for me.” He arches with a groan, trying to move away from the praise, and bucks into you instead. You pull him closer, closer, closer still, caging him in with your legs as he cries out. His hair has fallen in his face, and one of your hands comes back up to push it out of his eyes. “You are, honey. You’re my pretty boy.”

He squirms, flushing down past the collar of his tank, “I can’t, I’m not— Please—“ Hiccuping against your skin, his hands move down across your hips, your thighs, your ass. He pulls you against him as you both gasp, lost in the friction through thin layers of clothing. You grab one of his hands, bringing it to brush against both of you with a sigh, “You know it, you know you are.”

You lean closer to him, an inch between your faces as he presses into you both, gasping as you brush the bridge of his nose, “Beautiful. Oh—!” You meet his lips, pleasure building as the news comes to a close in the background. Your hand finds his jaw, grabbing at his chin, pulling you apart as he cries in confusion. You turn his face towards the screen, pressing his cheek to yours as you continue to rock against him, “Y’know who knows he’s pretty, Vincent? Just watch.”

The fabric around your hips is slick with sweat and fluids as you both move faster, still watching as his own face pops up on the screen, the pre-recorded segment playing to close out this part of the programming. You hold his jaw firm as he watches himself talking, and turn to watch as his eyes glaze over.

On screen, he’s wearing a crisp, light suit with a clean-shaven jaw and no glasses. His hair is darker, his face is a little younger, a little smoother. His eyes are bright and full of appreciation, staring directly at the viewer as he speaks, voice tinny through the speakers, “As always, we’d like to thank you for supporting our local—“ He cries out over the sound of his own voice, eyes rolling back as he floods with embarrassment. You grab at his hair again, pulling him closer and closer as you whisper in his ear, “Keep watching.”

He opens his eyes again, and you watch the screen glow off his face, grayscale shining in bright blue and green. His hips stutter against yours, moving faster as your pleasure builds, moans echoing over fabric rustling. On screen, Vincent Whittman continues, “Remember, trust us with your—“, and is cut off with another whine as he falls apart on top of you, begging for release. “Please, sweetheart, I—“ His eyes stay locked on the screen as he grabs at your waist. “Need to—“

You let go of his jaw, and he immediately finds your lips, leaving a burning trail from your mouth to your chest where he mouths at your skin with punched out whimpers. You throw your head against the sofa’s cushions, turning to watch the screen as you get closer and closer to the edge. Your hands scrape his scalp again, tugging a little through the pomade as you hold him against you. “Y’know, sometimes when I really miss you—“ A whine leaves your mouth as he bites in the curve of your neck, “—all I can do is watch you on here.”

His eyes snap up at that, batting your hands away as he slows his hips, raising his head, “Oh? You—“ He looks at the screen as you swivel your hips under him, trying to gain some of the lost friction back. His eyebrows furrow, then raise in shock as his face flushes a deep, deep red in embarrassment, “You watch me—? Watch this—? While you—“

He looks back at you as your hand cups his cheek, fingers brushing under his eyes. You grin as you meet his eyes, “I wish you ran that part in technicolor, honey. These eyes… they don’t know— Oh—“ Your moan is swallowed by him as he dives in for a kiss again, hips moving faster and faster as you both lose yourselves. It takes no time to reach your high again, building until you collapse in on each other, still partially dressed and spent through his slacks.

Shuddering, he lifts off of you, adjusting his weight and kissing your cheek. He leans in towards your ear as you catch your breath, still ragged from his orgasm, “…We need to reshoot that for you. At least once a year… Maybe once every six months?”

Laughter bubbles out of you then, clinging to him as you turn to catch his lips. “You’re so ridiculous, Vinny.”

He pulls out the kiss, leaving you chasing his touch as he goes to sit up, “I’m serious, baby! You need it, right? It’s for the good of the people. I’ve just gotta write it—“

You grab at his belt loops, grinding together in overstimulation to get his attention. Like a puppet with its strings cut, he falls against you as he cries out, grabbing at your hips. One hand runs through his hair as you pull him in, “Cool it, ‘Mr. Butler’. Don’t you dare get your head into work right now…”

He sighs against your lips, nodding, “Of course, f’course, anything for you—“

You arch into him, hands reaching for his belt buckle with a grin, “Come on, let’s get to the bed and see just how pretty you can be.”

———

references!:

- donna reed -> popular actress and TV show host from 1940s on, known for it’s a wonderful life when this story takes place.

- gracie allen -> popular comedian and tv show host with her husband from 1930s on. one of the more popular actresses with heterochromia (eyes).

- clark gable; vivian leigh; ‘mr. butler’ -> the stars of gone with the wind, a classic from the 1930s (that ends with gable’s character, rhett butler, leaving leigh’s character, scarlett o’hara, crying on a staircase with the iconic quote: “frankly, my dear, i don’t give a damn.”)

man i LOVE PRETTY GUYS UGH i keep thinking about him!!!! more to come for vincent (if the crowd so pleases OR i decide to write more lmao)

AS ALWAYS ILYILYILY’ALL!

CW: PWP, soft slow sex!, vox has two dicks, penetration, riding, orgasm delay, kissing that tv screen helllll yeahhhhhh, GN reader insert (no genitals named!), no y/n

enjoy!! love y’all :,)

———

The drag of a cock inside you is slick with lube as you grind down against him. Vox’s cries dissolve into static as he moves his hips up to meet you, whining in near overstimulation as you move slowly above him. With one cock inside you, his other cock bobs against his stomach, leaking and flushed, begging for release. He moves to touch himself, and you push his hand away gently, smiling down at him, “Do you remember what I said?”

He squirms as you sit fully on him, waiting for his reply in the crackling moans. His screen glitches as you raise your hips a fraction, “I’m so close, if you’d just— I can—“ He bucks his hips up into you, pressing against a sensitive spot, trying to get a rise out of you. You sigh as he smirks, smug as his display clears of any sign of his desperation, “See, baby? Could make you feel so good if you’d just— just touch me.”

You lower your hips, just to hear his breath catch. “I am touching you. Now, stop trying to rush me.” He groans as you start to move again, claws pressing into your hips as his screen flickers. Pixels erupt across his face in shades of blues and purples as he flushes, voltage running along the edge of his screen as his control starts to slip. Each time you meet his hips, you rock against his other cock, a slight friction that leaves him gasping, “Oh— Fuck, you know that’s not what I— Shit—“

Your bodies press against each other, a wet slide of sweat and lube as you both lose yourselves in pleasure, a soft dance in the dim evening light shining through the window along the opposite wall. You lean over him, face hovering over his screen as you press yourself against him completely, whimpering into his screen. A screech of feedback rises from his speaker as both of his cocks slide against you, one inside and one trapped between you, “Please— Pl(eazzz)— Fuck—“ Your mouth nuzzles his display as you gasp against his face, breathing heavy with exertion and the ache of your gentle indulgence burning through your chest.

His mouth opens, screen pressing openly against you as you meet him, shocks settling against your numbing tongue as you swallow each other’s sounds. His hands move against your skin, carving a path down your thighs, up your spine, cradling your head. Your orgasms building, the world moves slowly around you in a gentle wash of color and feeling, lost in the hum of his static and the warmth of your body against his.

His screen is searing brightness pooling along your skin, heat bleeding through you as you hold his screen in both hands, collapsing into him as you break. You hold each other, moans and gasps and cries lost in each other’s skin. Hell rages on outside the Tower, but feeling the grind of both cocks against you, his hands gentle as his hips moving with a bruising patience — you know that this moment is your own to keep.

———

i know it’s a lot shorter than my usual, i’m getting back into it 8,)

masterlist pinned on page!

CW: PWP, wireplay (stimulation AND the wires being used to move things), small electrocution/shock kink, voyeurism/exhibitionism, blowjobs, grinding, PATHETIC WHINY BITCH VOX SEND TWEET, SWITCH vox but def leans sub lmao, humiliation + begging (we know the drill by now), no y/n, GN reader (no genitals named!) — tell me if i missed anything!!!!

———

Deep under the glitz and glam of the Tower laid a separate broadcasting room, a personal office created from memories of an empire long dead.

A thin, ominous path leads to a wide platform, a lone island in the empty space lit in obnoxious company branding. At the far edge lies the room’s focus: a control panel filled with flashing buttons and speakers, and the screens above, wires overlapping in haphazard clutter. There’s a chair in front of the desk, angular and empty, but that’s not where you’re looking.

Your eyes adjust to the dim lighting as you move further into the room, delighted. “A present for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Dead center on the platform, Vox is kneeling in the bullseye of the logo, head slumped and panting. Most of his suit is gone, drawing your attention to his bare, heaving chest and crumpled slacks, arms tangled loosely behind his back with his own wires. Your shoes click softly against the metal bridge as you approach him, admiring him as you stop a few steps away.

His screen lights up, neck swiveling with a subtle click as he looks up at you. You hum in appreciation as the display fills with pixelated shades of blue, blushing across his screen in embarrassment. Moving closer, you bend so that your face is level with his, grinning, “Oh, honey, I am going to ruin you…”

Running a hand from the bottom edge of his screen down his neck, you miss the sharpening of his grin, the buzzing of building electricity. He leans in, face turned towards you, sighing as he inhales, rasping through mechanical speakers. As your hand comes up to circle the wires along the back of his head, he barks out a laugh in your ear, “Yeah, I don’t think so, baby. Not today.”

You gasp as he rises from his knees, knocking you off-balance at the sudden movement. Something grabs your waist and drags you upright, nearly leaning against him as he looms over you, cackling. The cyan flush has disappeared from his display, replaced by a shark-toothed smile and the glitch of a ruby spiral. You scowl as he leans in, still grinning from edge to edge of his screen, “Oh, that was too good— I think I deserve some sort of award for that performance! You really thought—“ Sparks flicker over his frame for a second as he backs up, glancing over you in unbridled glee. “Maybe a reward would be better, hm? Come on, I have the perfect place for you.”

You squirm as you’re lifted without moving a muscle, looking down to find a set of wires firmly around your waist, tightening as they move you with no effort. More wires come from the chaos surrounding the desk, wrapping around your forearms as he settles you in front of the screens, crouched before the empty chair fixed to the floor there. The sound of his belt buckle rings through the room, loud against the sounds of your breathing and the hum of machines. You turn to watch him pull it through the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them as he stalks towards you, confidence in every step.

Vox lowers himself into the seat, smirking down at you. His legs are open, inviting and relaxed, slacks tented in obvious arousal. You’re pulled forward as he moves your arms towards him, wires firm as they bring your hands against his thighs. One of his hands falls against the arm of the chair, claws tapping with a soft metal hum, “Don’t be shy now. Go on.” The swirl of the spiral is brief, but your head is still left swimming as it spurs you into action, reaching for his zipper.

He groans as your hand moves, teasing against his pants as you flex your hand, slipping just underneath to his boxers below. You trace the gap left by the zipper, moving further to grasp at him, feeling a shiver wrack through his body. You follow the waistband of his underwear, slipping just barely to touch the soft skin below before moving back across the damp patch appearing there. You feel a hand grip at your hair as he tries to cover up his reactions with a staticky growl, “Jesus— Would you just get to it? Some of us have places to b(zz)—“

You bring your lips to the bulge as he talks, lightly mouthing against the growing spot as he groans. His hips buck against you involuntarily as the claw in your hair scrapes against your scalp, “Shit, shit, shit— Oh—“ The wires pull your arms higher, pressing your hands against his stomach in an attempt to have you remove the clothing between you. You pull his cock free from his slacks and boxers, running your thumb over the soft skin at the tip just to hear his gasp.

There's a screech of metal as you lean in, tongue running along the length of him slowly. He’s warm, circuitry buzzing under the surface, and static clings to your skin as you move in closer. Shifting to mouth at the leaking head of his cock, you glance up and startle at the screen before you. Not just his screen — all of the screens.

Every monitor is lit, displaying dozens of angles, close-ups, and his face, glowing bright blue on a handful of screens throughout. One of your arms is dragged down his hips, and you take the hint, working him with slow strokes. Your eyes fall on one display to your left where you can see yourself from the side, kneeling before him panting, hand moving steadily as you look above you. Heat blooms across your face as you whine, looking back at his face, “I— How are you doing that?”

His hand slides from your hair to cup your jaw, metal claw digging into your skin, “I am the screens, baby. I control… everything here. Even you.” He releases your face, and you fall forward as cords run along your shoulders and hips, pushing your body closer to him. Cock pressed against your lips, he grins down at you. “Give us a good show, yeah?”

You groan at the weight of him on your tongue as he finally pushes into your mouth. Warm and heavy against you, the taste of him sends sparks down your throat, buzzing with a lingering shock as you start to move down his length. Hands return to your head, pushing with the slightest pressure as you exhale through your nose, eyes rolling back.

He thrusts shallowly into you, open and waiting, with staticky huffs and whines. Gasps try to escape your throat around the feel of his cock. Drool drips down your chin as wet noises echo through the open space. Wires slide across your skin, electricity trailing along them, sending sparks down to you, aching and wanting. It feels filthy. Your eyes catch a monitor just behind him, half obscured by the chair. It looks filthy.

You start to rock your hips, searching for friction, whines mixing with punched-out noises from him moving, hitting the back of your throat. He doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in his pleasure even as the screens watch you, panting as he leans back, “Oh, fuck— Yeah… Just like th(azzzz), you’re so—“ You watch yourself on a different screen with teary eyes, writhing against the wires, bobbing up and down from a bird’s eye angle this time. As you watch, you realize the wires are… slipping?

A fog lifts from your head as you notice the wires loosening on your arms, your waist, your hips. He’s so far gone that he doesn’t realize that he’s giving up his control. You focus fully back on him, looking up from under your lashes as you double your efforts, tongue swirling around his length as you move faster. He cries out, grabbing at the chair again with a loud squeal, metal on metal scraping, “Oh— Oh— Baby, doing so good for me, shit, made for this—“ You move your hands slowly off of him as he arches his hips, rocking into your mouth. Watching the camera behind him again, mouth still moving, you can see your own wrists bending — more importantly, you can see the wires. Perfect.

You move down, cock sitting fully in your mouth, jaw relaxed. He cries out as you swallow against him, a wet moan humming in your throat. With your nose pressed against his pubic bone, you shift your hips slightly and reach behind you, where you know the wires that were around your arms are lying. As he bucks against your mouth, you grab at both cords, bundles about as thick as his fingers, and pull.

The reaction is instant — screens glitching and beeping, static humming in the air, sparks flying across the console behind him. In the middle of it, Vox is electric, crackling ozone and fuzzy pixels, gasping for air he doesn’t need. You pull him out of your mouth as his display breaks into black-and-grey static, then colorful bars blinding you at full brightness. As you move away from him, you rest your weight on your hands, still grabbing at the wires underneath you.

A sound is ripped from his throat, half-squeal, half-whimper. The screens behind him pop on and off, until they all show his face, all with the exact same expression. His body glows as he locks eyes with you, voltage running across his skin, “Wh(zzzzz)— What the fuck are you— Oh—“ You pull one cord against you, stroking it the same way you were stroking his cock. He twitches again, crying out, “Fuck! Fu(czzz) you, fuck y(ozzz)— Just—“

You stand on shaky legs, clothes rumpled and ruined, and lean over him, “Can you…” You hold up the wires in your hands, grinning, “…feel that?” You run over the ridges in the plastic covering, and he jolts at each individual dip. His face bursts into red and blue pixels, fuzzy and soft as his hips rock against nothing, cock still hard in the empty air, drool drying on his slacks. He tries to stand, tries to put you back where you were before, but you crowd against him before he can, bringing a wire to your lips. He freezes below you as you run your tongue along the length of the cord, cold plastic warming under your touch, electricity numbing your mouth with a hum.

His display brightens, warping as tears start to drip from his screen, “Pl(eazzz)— It’s not, it’s not—“ You move the wire back down, wringing it between your palms. Leaning between his legs, you reach for his hands, claws gouged into the metal arms of the chair. Slowly, you wrap the cord around one palm, now hovering over his left hand. His skin burns with the hiss of electricity, and you can feel a static charge building between your skin and his. He’s gasping, squirming, “N(oztzzz) fair— I— I—“

You smile down at him, dripping faux sympathy, “I’m sorry, did you want a turn? Wanna feel like a big, strong man holding me down?” You press into him, leg brushing against his weeping cock. Your smile turns mean at his whimpering, “Better luck next time… Be a good boy for me now, yeah?”

Without waiting for his reply, your hand meets the surface of his, wires sweeping over his claws, and he comes alive under you. Voltage sparks across the entire platform, sparks flying from several monitors, some flashing with static in an attempt to stay on. The screech of feedback is deafening as he sobs, like a microphone being dropped off of a stage, echoing in the darkness of the room. You press harder, moving up the length of his bare arm as a path of blue lights up under your touch.

You look up at the screens, now showing angles of you against him, closeups on the electric touch of wires and the solid line of your thigh against his cock. Your hand continues higher, tracing the line of his shoulder, the curve of his neck, the dip of his collarbones. The length of cord drags behind your hand, hanging against his arm, constant friction for the machine behind the man. As you drag further up his neck, he tenses, screen buzzing and glitching, “Wait, wait, wait— That’s— Oh, fuck, that’s—“

Another tear drips off of the bottom edge of his screen as you reach for the wires at the back of his head. Your hand hovers for one second, then another, as he rocks against your leg, arching away from your hand. He whines, turning toward his with a display flushed in pixels, “Shit— Baby—“

The entire room is plunged in darkness as the wires touch, beeping and static cutting out as he cries out, warbling static coming from his speakers. You feel his cock twitch as he comes, spilling hot against your skin and his pants, still hanging low on his hips. He slumps over, completely still as your eyes try to adjust to the void in front of you.

After a few more seconds, a screen clicks on above you, the largest screen directly in the center of the console. His face loads in a flash of light, distorted and pixelated over one eye, bathing you and his body in shades of blue and red. You look at his head in the light — still off. You look back at the display above you, moving your hand back to your side sheepishly. The wire looks singed in your hand, metal peaking through the plastic molding, even though your skin is untouched. You drop it as his face glitches on the monitor before you, brightness flooding the platform.

Vox’s eyes move between his body and yours as his mouth wobbles on the screen, inhaling sharply, “…That might’ve been the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He glances over your body, catching on the fabric around your hips. “You— Uh— How should I—“ A flicker of electricity jolts around the edge of the screen, and he lets out a groan, “I don’t think I can get back in my body. At all. Fuck, how did you do that?”

Your hands come to your bottoms, moving them down your hips with your underwear, and you look up at him, then to his body, “I think I can manage. You’ll let me do that, right?” A soft gasp bleeds from below as you move closer to the console, circling the chair that he’s stuck in. His expression flickers, an indifferent mask covering his embarrassment, “What, you just want me to watch?”

You raise your arms, sliding your shirt off as he whines in the background, amplified through speakers surrounding the console. Reaching towards his head to run your fingers along the edge of the screen, you revel in the heat radiating off of him, “Oh, I know you can watch me, honey. It’s what you were made for.” His body twitches as you settle on his lap, and you sigh at the friction of his softening cock against you. The monitor bursts into static as several other screens come to life, a cicada hum of circuitry drowning out your moans. The room fills with white light as each screen flashes black and white, all reading ‘PLEASE STAND BY’ as they supposedly reconnect.

Bathed in the glow of white and blue light, you begin to move against him, earning a small twitch of overstimulation as his body rocks up into your hips. With a crackle, the screens flood with his face again, every single display a mess of cyan and ruby in varying degrees of desperation. Still, his head remains completely dim, illuminated only by the faces above.

Your hand moves to the ports along the back of his head again, and with a digital whine, his face distorts on the largest monitor, “I can’t— Too much—“ You move again, a steady rhythm against him as you feel him hardening for a second time. Friction building, you start to lose yourself in the feeling, his first orgasm sliding between your bodies. He watches, surrounding you through the monitors, fuzzy and distorted as they flash in and out, brightness out of control. His staticky whine rings through the entire console, “Fu(czzzzz)—“

Your hand shifts as you brush the wires behind his head again, chasing your own pleasure as you pull his screen closer, “Oh— Oh, Vox— I—“ As you drag your hands down the ports there, his display flashes to life with a sharp shriek of static. You shift back, slowing as he whines on the screens above, signal buffering, “I th(nzzzzzz)— I— Sh(hzzzzzz)—“ There’s a bright flash of light as his face finally turns back on. A series of beeps start, low and steady, as the display loads — black-and-white, the numbers of a vintage test card stuck at ‘10’.

You sigh against his screen as you speed up again, looking up at the display above. Pink and red pixels are blotchy against his screen, glitching as he meets your eyes. You grin, gasping as you grind against him, wet and hot and desperate. “Well, are you gonna start the countdown?”

———

have y’all noticed when i try to write dom vox, he actually just switches to sub……… i’m sorry he’s pathetic asf i can’t help it ;-;

fun fact: this is named “alastor battle room time” in my files because it’s in that room that ONLY APPEARS in stayed gone and then disappears again LMAO

CW: ANGST!!!!!, hurt no comfort, bittersweet ending, body dysmorphia, maybe some body horror elements?, lucifer LOVES HER GOOD GODDDD, ABUSE of italics (i’m sorry they’re my favorite)

ENJOY!

———

The horns start as bumps. Just barely there, tender to the touch, but covered by hair easily.

Lilith spends most days staring at her skin, watching the porcelain gleam off of the light above. Her skin didn’t used to shine — it was soft, and covered in hair and freckles and lines. Sometimes, she presses against her wrists until they bruise, feeling for a pulse that will never return.

The skin, the eyes, and now these horns. As they begin to protrude from the skin, they’re harder to ignore. They’re beautiful, she can admit that as she looks at her reflection; sleek grays and purples indented with ridges, sharp as a knife’s edge at the ends. She has to be careful brushing against his face, but she can’t find it in herself to care enough to try lately.

Every touch from Lucifer’s hands burns — literally. Gone is the cool touch of a heavenly hand across her face, replaced by burning embers to fit their punishment. His face has changed with hers, horns and eyes and tail shifting, but he can will them away.

Her horns grow past her singed hair, curving. She hates him for it.

He does try — he does still love her. He threw away his immortal life for this, all for her. She wants to love him, she wants, but her eyes are getting worse and her horns won’t stop growing. Every day she wakes up screaming and crying at the feeling of hair against her scalp, the burn of her punishment pulling her face apart.

She finds him one day in a puddle of ichor, groaning as he clutches his arm. She stands above him, too tired to bend down, too tired to feel his hellfire touch, “What happened?”

Lucifer looks at her like he’s still the Morning Star, like she has ascended with him instead of falling. He pulls his hand from the wound, gold stark against the charcoal of his palm, “Nothing, Lily, nothing to worry about! Just—“ He barks out an unconvincing laugh, “—those new sinners… Boy, they wasted no time coming down here, huh?” He stands while he starts to ramble, wiping his own blood off on his thigh as the wound closes on its own. “They just— um— they’re a little violent! And I— well—“

Lilith’s heart drops as she looks over him, alabaster and embers and gold, gold, gold, “And you can’t harm them, can you? These… sinners.” The word feels like ash on her tongue, solidifying their fate. Nothing feels real; not the brimstone air, or the fangs growing along her teeth, or the love in his eyes when he looks at her.

She wants, and wants, and wants.

He falters a bit as he meets her cold, distant eyes, “Yeah, but it’s okay! They can’t really hurt me, you know that.” His eyes flicker over her face, and she feels her expression souring without thinking. Her horns burn against her skull. He smiles softly, too softly for her, “Come on, Lily. Where’s that beautiful smile, huh?” He reaches for her, and she can’t contain her flinch.

His face falls again. She moves away from his outstretched hand, “Don’t say that to me. I know how I look. I look like—“

His hand drops, and she watches his eyes dim, “Like an angel? Like me?”

She grimaces; her fangs hurt. She is becoming some sort of creature, a sinner, a monster in front of him, and it hurts. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. You know—“

His skin glows in the light as he moves towards her, closing the gap she created. His eyes are still soft, like he still loves her, like he actually thinks that she is beautiful. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

The moment is shattered.

She thinks back to Eden, back to the breeze in her hair and sun on her skin. Back to warmth and light and sun on Earth; to the searing glow of Heaven’s court. Back to Lucifer’s begging to take the blame, the sound of his screams echoing as they ripped three sets of wings from his newly-human form. She can feel the burn of fire around them as they fell, his touch turning to magma against her, and then no warmth at all.

Hell is hot, humid, scorching — all she can feel right now is cold. “Are you… serious?”

The pain is clear as day on his face, and the cruel voice in her head hopes that he is remembering the same things as her. He blinks away tears as he moves a step closer, “Lily…”

Oh, that name. He loves her, he loves her, but it’s not enough.

She bares her teeth like the animal she can feel herself becoming, “Yes, Lucifer, it is. It’s— of course it’s bad! Do you not remember what they took from us? From me?” He starts to sputter, backing up as she looms over him, anger coating every rational thought like syrup. She can’t hold back a growl at the pity in his eyes, “They— I am— I was a human.” Her hands come up to her porcelain cheeks, her china doll hair, her horns. “I was.”

She blinks, and he’s still below her. The look in his eyes isn’t pity — it’s fear. That cruel voice rings through her again as she flinches back. Good — let him see what I’ve become.

His voice is hoarse as she retreats, curling in on herself. It sounds like he’s trying not to cry. “I’m sorry that I took that from you.” He straightens, trying to look into her eyes, “I tried— I tried to get them to listen, I tried to take any blame for you! I didn’t want you here — didn’t want you to become this with me!” His eyes flash with light, changing color as he moves closer, crowding against her, a step away. “You— Lilith, you deserve to be free! That’s why we did it all, right?”

She’s frozen, even as he reaches closer, hand cupping her cheek. It burns, but at least it’s not cold. She’s so tired of the cold; it could be enough. His hand relaxes, running along her cheekbone as she finally looks him in the eyes. His fire goes out in an instant, “I did it all for you. Please— I just— I need to know that I haven’t lost you. I can’t stand the thought of you alone in this red nightmare with those sinners—“

She can see her own face mirrored in his as her eyes widen, “…Red?” She pulls back from him, eyes catching on the realm around her. The sky, the ground, the glow of the pentacle above. Everything is a wash of gray, dull and empty shades of yellow bleeding through in spots. She looks back at him in horror, “What’s red?”

Her heart breaks again as he inhales, shaky and pitying. He looks at the sky, the ground, her horns, “Oh, Lily. Everything. Everything is red. You really can’t—“ He cuts himself off with a whine as he meets her eyes again, finally falling apart, “Your eyes— They’re—“

A sob is ripped from her throat as she turns her back to him. Everything burns, shame and rage coiling in her veins, “They’re goat eyes. You made goats, right?” She tries to stop another sound from clawing up her chest. “You told me that once. In Eden.” She turns back to him, eyes burning with tears she can’t shed. A hollow feeling settles, empty and cold in her as she looks into his eyes. “I miss the green. Don’t you?”

His lip trembles, another tear falling. He’s shaking, shining gold in the light from the sky — the red sky. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

She wants to love him. Her fangs grind against her other teeth. Her horns ache as their weight pulls her neck back at an unnatural angle. Her skin shines pale porcelain back at her, cool and pristine. Her eyes burn against the grey realm around her.

She wants to try.

———

here’s the tissues…. i’m sorry baby….. i love you……

TAKE A SHOT EVERY TIME I MAKE A REFERENCE TO ‘THE GREAT GATSBY’ (2024)! jeremy jordan has ONE ROLE and he nails it EVERY TIMEEEE

CW: PWP, blindfolded sex, electricity/shock kick, humiliation, DOM VOX FOR ONCE EYYYY, degradation, lil overstimulation, grinding, no y/n used, GN reader (no genitals named!), just a TINY bit of choking :3 — (let me know if i missed something!)

———

It’s dark, quiet, cold. A chill runs across your skin as you shift against the sheets. The hum of the tower is louder in your ears, and you listen for the crackling nearby. A tapping echoes to your right, and you swivel your head to meet it, feeling the hair on your arms rise from the static charge in the air.

A clicking noise breaks through the silence, followed by the tell-tale buzz of electricity. His monitor’s hum is closer now, a familiar whirring in front of you. You hear fabric rustle as he leans closer, static sticking to your face now. A hand comes up to cup your face, cool metal brushing against the edge of the blindfold over your eyes, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Shit. Can you see anything through there?”

You shake your head, leaning into the touch of Vox’s claws against your skin. He moves to cup your jaw, gripping tighter as he pulls you off of the pillows, “Not even when I do this?” There's a quiet hum, and your head remains in his grasp. He huffs a second later, and there’s another noise, supposedly him undoing whatever he had done. He shifts, moving one claw to rest on your lips, pushing further into your mouth. The metallic tang pulls a gasp from you as it settles on your tongue, a steady weight holding your mouth open for him.

You stay like that for five, ten, thirty seconds until you feel the prickle of a shock building, slowly pulling you out of the fog your mind had floated to. You whine as electric waves melt over your tongue, curling down your throat like a cold glass of water. The metal tip of his claw presses harder, teasing the threat of blood mixing with the iron taste of his hand.

You feel the static hum of his display moving closer as he rasps, a low rumble coming through his speakers, “You liked that, huh? So perfect for me…” His other hand traces the curve of your waist, the softness of your stomach, before sliding up your chest, settling in the slope of your neck. His hand rests right at your jugular, a gentle threat against your pulse as you inhale sharply. You can hear the grin in his voice as the edge of his screen brushes against your collarbone, screen fuzzy on your skin, “Careful… Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, right? Just relax.”

The hand cradling your face disappears, leaving a cold sting in your mouth as it joins the other hand, forming a loose ring across your neck. Trying to breathe as shallow as possible, you’re just able to stop yourself from squirming, “Vox—“

“I'm taking care of you, baby. That’s what you wanted.” After a gentle press to your pulse points that leaves you panting, his hands leave your throat in a trail of light scratches. Gently carving a path down your body, you feel the pulse of electricity lighting up under your skin, covering you in goosebumps as heat blossoms under his touch. Pressing his palms flat against you, he rests just under your ribs, metal claws digging in more and more as you arch into his touch.

His palms carry a whole new sensation, a lower thrum of energy that fills you with static, body deciding between pleasure and pain as it builds and builds. You hear his fans whirring as he shifts, hands flexing against you, “Fuck, baby, if you could see yourself—“ He cuts himself with a sigh as you start to whine, moving against nothing but air as his hands slide further down. “Look at you! Barely even touched you…”

You body moves without thought as he stops at the apex of your thighs, pulses radiating straight to your hips. Legs shifting together, you try to get any friction as the pressure builds, whining as you throw your head back. He pushes your thighs apart, and the electricity fizzles for a moment, spiking along your nerves as you cry out, moaning as a plea for more.

You hear him inhale sharply, and feel the fuzzy static of his screen move closer, resting against the line of your inner knee, “Is this all for me? Shit, who knew you would be such a slut for this?” You thrash against his hands, whining and gasping as he finally places a hand against you. It flexes, and your eyes roll back under the blindfold, “Oh— Oh— Please, just—“

He hums, sending a vibration down your inner thigh, “Don’t worry, baby. I know what you need, gonna give it to you— Fuck, oh, shit— Look at you—“ His hand slides against you, wet and loud as he start to move, working with steady, slow movements as you claw at the pillow above you. You get lost in the feeling of him, pleasure building as you moan louder and louder, until you feel it starting again.

The shock is sudden this time, a touch at the most sensitive spot, a jolt through you completely, and you shudder as you fall apart under him. You reach for him, grasping at air before he leans into you, cold skin and metal slipping under your hands. “Please— I need you, need you— Vinny—“

He stutters, glitching and catching on a crackle of static, “I got you, I got you. Gonna give you everything— Fu(czz), more— Just—“ He presses the line of his body against you, cock rutting against your hip as he groans, screen pressing into the front of your shoulder as he moves faster.

Your bodies rock in sync, the slide of sweat and slick mixing with the steady buzz of shocks in your veins, leaving your mouth humming and numb and raw. Everything blurs as you rock against him, stuck between his hand and his hips, panting and shaking as the currents grow against you. With a quiet squeal of feedback, you feel a spark, a true shock of electricity that sends you over the edge, sobbing as you let go. Your moan blends with his own as you hear more whirring, and feel the weight of the blindfold disappear from your eyes, singed from a burst of voltage. You blink at the brightness of his screen as tears fall from your eyes, orgasm flooding through your body, warm and heavy.

His display lights up, bathing you in blue light as he glitches, groaning against you, “So good— So good— Fuck, I’(mzzz)—“ You whine as he keeps moving, hips burning in overstimulation as his energy crackles around the room, smoking static and flashing jolts of light against your skin and his. With another thrust against you, he cries out, panting above your face as his screen glitches in shades of blue and red pixels. His hand stills as you twitch, and you both shake, holding each other as you come down from your highs.

He nuzzles the edge of his face against your chest, relaxing fully on top of you, “Fuck.”

You smile, brushing a hand down the gills along his ribcage, “That’s th’ idea.” He groans as you laugh, a short, gentle thing against the top edge of his screen. “You’re gonna kill your neck like that, y’know?”

He huffs into your skin, “Let me die here then.” You snort as you crane your neck towards him, leaning to brush your lips against the corner of his face. you hum in thought, “Well, if you double die, we can’t do this with you sometime…”

Vox shoots up at this, sitting with knees boxing in your hips now, screen bursting in pixelated cyan, “We what? We— Why would we— You—“ He sputters as your grin grows, fans whirring louder. “Whatever. Whatever! Jesus, baby, you can’t just—“

You laugh as he flops down next to you, finally lying supine, grumbling in embarrassment. You slot yourself next to him, shuddering in exhaustion as you pull the sheets over both of you. “Just a suggestion, honey, no need to get all worked up about it.” He starts to argue again, but you shush him with a hand on his chest, brushing over the bottom edge of his screen for a second. “Stop defending your honor and take a nap with me, would you?”

He sighs, all static and satisfaction, before reaching a hand up to your waist, tracing slow circles with the edge of one claw. The room is filled with a peaceful silence, the whirring of fans and hum of electricity the only sounds over your breathing.

“Just remember it was your idea if it ever happens, baby.” He snickers as you roll your eyes, relaxing against his chest as the lull of static pulls you under.

———

no bc like why did this actually get me hot on the collar WTF??? hope you guys enjoy it too!!!

Mature Themes!

CW: PATHETICCCC VOX UGH, sub vox, humping/grinding, lazy morning stuff!, no y/n used, GN reader (no genitals named!), humiliation + begging (my fav duo) — lmk if i missed anything!

———

There’s always a hum coming from somewhere in Vee Tower. The sleek architecture muffles most noises, as workers and machines alike keep the entertainment district running smoothly, but they can’t stop the buzz of something electric through the bedroom walls. Today, the faint whirring of fans pulls you out of a dreamless sleep, to a room glowing with soft blue light.

You’re curled against a cold body, duvet heavy against your prickling skin as you seek out more warmth. He's always cold before he wakes up; something about shutting down and circulation. You lift your head from his chest, noticing that his screen is still black, flat against the pillow as he lies supine. You curl a hand around his waist, feeling for gills on the other side, skin flooding with goosebumps as you meet ice cold metal.

Bringing the sheets higher, you lift the duvet to cover his torso as well, trying to warm both of you at once. You throw a leg over his hips out of instinct, shifting so that your body is flush with his side, and you hear a soft chime from above you.

The room echoes with soft whirring as Vox wakes up, face loading on-screen at the dimmest brightness as a claw reaches up to your waist. You shiver as the cold metal touches your exposed skin, melting into his touch, “Morning, honey.”

He hums, low and staticky, voice thick with sleep, “Why are you moving so much? Aren’t you comfortable?”

You shiver against him involuntarily, sinking into the duvet more. His gills and claws are starting to warm against your skin, but just barely. “It’s just so cold in here right now. Not that you’re that warm…”

He grumbles, fans kicking to a high setting as his chest floods with warmth, body coming alive under your hands, “All you have to do is ask, baby. I'll get you anything you need — want a warmer blanket?”

You shake your head, pressing against his chest as you sigh in satisfaction, “Just need you to warm me up.” There's a hiccup in his breathing, a sharp inhale, and you feel the claw on your waist tighten, metal digging into the soft skin there. You lean into his touch, stretching your leg further across his hips with the motion. Laying against him, you can hear his fans working as he tries to keep his breathing steady and unaffected.

As you push up on one arm, he starts to protest losing your warmth before you plant your knee next to his hip, swinging so that you’re fully seated on top of him. Knees caging in his hips, chest and stomach pressed in a line against him, arms tangling in his as he steadies you, grabbing at your waist again. You watch his screen brighten as his eyes widen, display buzzing as he buffers.

His claws move further down, squeezing at your hips as your face hovers over his screen. His voice is layered in poorly concealed static as he meets your eyes, “What did you have in mind, baby? We could… fuck around, we’ve got time.”

You shift, settling your hips back against him, smiling, "I don't know, I was kinda just thinking about this.”

He visibly falters, claws holding your hips still as your arms rest around his shoulders. “Wait— Wait, you’re serious? But—“ His voice trails off in a whine, and he bucks up against you in protest. “You— We never have days like this!”

You smile at him, teasing, prodding to see if you can get him to crack, “and I'm making the most of it. I'm cold, and I'm staying right here to warm us up.” You pause, watching as his screen bursts in pixelated blues as you move down to his chest, dragging your lips across his skin. He shudders against the light touch, and you press your weight fully on his hips, heat flooding through you as he gasps. “You can do whatever you have in mind while I'm up here, right?”

Vox groans, buzzing with tension as his screen tilts back against the pillow again, watching the ceiling, “Baby, you’re not seriously gonna make me…” You press another kiss against his chest, and he knows you’re not budging. “Fuck— I— I’m not gonna just hump you like a fucking dog or something!”

You hum against his collarbone, one hand moving to trace the edge of his screen. “Why not?” you laugh into his chest, sharp and cruel, pushing further even now, “Do you think you’re better than that? Seriously?”

Electricity burns across his skin in embarrassment, “I— Yes, I'm not your fu(czzzz)— I’m n(ozzz)—!” His claws slide up to your arms, grabbing your wrists as he tries to gain some sort of control. He arches against you, breaking into a crackling moan at the friction, and you strike, twisting out to grab at him instead.

You press his wrists into the bed as he whines, screen glitching, “What was that? What were you saying?” You watch as the shame rolls through his body, heat flooding across the metal and flesh frame, fans whirring even faster as he squirms. You roll your hips once against him, and he falls apart, gasping and glitching, “Fu(czzzzz)— Baby, please—“

You lay your head back down, bodies pressed against each other again as he begs, thumbs rubbing circles into his wrists, “Go ahead. No one’s stopping you, Vox.” You relax your full weight into him, sighing as he moans, starting to tentatively rock his hips against you.

Panting below you, he starts to chase the friction, grinding up against you. He whines as his face brightens and dim without his control, painting the ceiling in cyan light, “Ple(azzz)— I’m being good, right? I’ll be s(ozzz), so good—“

You smile against his collarbone, “I know, so good, honey. Just…” You push at his wrists again in warning, humming at the whimper it pulls from him. You let go, reaching back and pulling the duvet over you again with a sigh, “…Go slow, yeah? We got time.”

———

and you got TIMEEEE to fuck him UP, i believe in you baby!

hope y’all enjoyed!! as always, crossposted on ao3 anonymously here. i have MANY more vox ideas (help get him OUT) and maybe… even… a lucifer idea🤭 NO ONE FREAK OUT NOW!

alastor’s asexuality is kinda ambiguous in this, because i myself am not ace! i’m sick of people just saying “oh he’s non-sex averse so i can write smut!” and rolling with it… so i tried to give a little bit of a buildup and a tease that all they’re doing, if anything, is grinding basically LOL :3 (i would LOVE any feedback at all on that!)

CW: humping, slow morning stuff, whiny alastor, radio interference when he gets worked up (ikyk!!), no explicit sex, no y/n used, GN reader insert (no genitals named!), sub alastor? (— tell me if i missed anything!)

———

You wake up to the sound of chirping, crickets in an eternal dusk echoing through the air. Early-morning warmth envelops you, from the soft duvet weighing across your shoulders, to the rough feel of a hand against your hip. A soft melody crescendos behind you as he rustles, shifting slightly with a crackling hum.

The sheets rustle, sliding down to your waist as he pulls your hip closer, slotting against the thin line of his body. You turn slightly, held in place by his hand, "Have you been awake long?”

Alastor hums, a harmony to match the music in the air around you. You can feel his hair brush against your nape as he moves closer, “Not as long as you may think, mon ange.” You feel a soft nuzzle against your neck, and lean back a bit more into him, sighing.

Slow mornings are rare, but he can create anything you wish for here. The warmth from the bayou sweeps over you both in a gentle breeze, and you curl closer to him, back pressed against his chest fully. Reaching a hand back, you find the bottom of his ear, where hair shifts to dense fur that curls in the humidity. The song skips in the air, as if knocked off-track, before his hand tightens along your hip, shifting closer to your stomach.

Sharp claws trace the softness of your belly as you stroke his ear, “How do we feel about this today, hm?”

His ear twitches as you apply more pressure, ruffling the fur and hair together. His lips meet your neck with a staticky gasp, barely there, just below your ear, "I'm letting you touch me, aren't I?” His face moves lower, but his hand stays at your navel, tracing patterns, taking note. He nuzzles against your shoulder as you move your hand away from his ears, carving a path over skin and bone and fur to his leg underneath the duvet.

Your hand rests on the outside of his knee, pulling him closer in a question, as he shifts to move his leg over yours. Head curled into your neck, legs curled into yours — he’s caged you in, willingly lounging in a predator’s nest, finding only prey. Your thumb is gentle as you press against his thigh, tracing the length of his leg around yours.

Alastor shudders against your neck, a crack in his indifference, and you pause, slowing your hand. His breath is barely faster, a practiced façade that you can see through by now; you push your thumb a little further into the tender muscle of his thigh. A small whine escapes him, lost in the crackle of building radio interference, and you feel his hips shift minutely against the curve of your ass.

You bite back a smile as the taste of victory fills you with heat, “Anything you were looking forward to today, or just… lying around?” You shift back against him slowly, and his breath catches as a reply.

You wait as he seems to cycle through stations, trying to hide behind what scraps of his façade he can. “Today, we bring you a report on the s(czz)— Try out our new b(czz)— Best-selling author Ka(czz)—“ He moves again, testing the waters before relaxing against your back, hands resting at your pubic bone.

He sighs against your shoulder, teeth scraping the edge as he moves back up towards your ear. Your skin buzzes with static as he pants, still trying to mask his desperation with the filter, "I was hoping, well— If you’d be obliged, mon—“

Your ear is left ringing with a squeal of feedback as you roll firmly against him, smiling and tipping your head back ever so slightly. He stops and shudders as he lets out a soft whine in place of the static, “Could we just— Shit, m’n ange, please.”

You move your hand up to his hip, holding him in place for a second, “We can do whatever you’re looking for, darling. We do have a whole morning to spend together, right?” His grip tightens along your hips, shifting from the apex of your thighs back to your stomach, gasping. You smile, letting yourself fall back against him, hand moving back along his thigh. As his breath catches in your ear, your eyes flutter closed. “Go ahead, dear.”

———

hope you enjoyed!!!! as always, crossposted on ao3 here.

NSFW!! 18+

CW: PWP, degradation, SUB VOX MY BELOVED!!!, pathetic vox, humiliation, edging, face (screen?) sitting, humping, dacryphilia (?), no y/n used, GN insert (no genitals named!), wireplay, glitching out, ABUUUUUSE of the italics i’m so sorry (— tell me if i missed anything!)

———

“Fuck, I don’t care, I don’t care! Just use me— I need you to use me— I need—“

The screen goes fuzzy as tears start to fall from his eyes, causing pixels to blur across his face in different shades of blue and red. The cicada buzz of static gets louder as you grab the back of his head, using the thick wires and ports as leverage to guide him closer. You swipe your hands under one eye, stopping the track before the tear can drip off the edge of his screen. “I didn’t know you could cry. Cute.”

His screen warps and glitches as he whines again, arching towards your touch, “Not cute— I’m not fucking cute! Baby, please, I need—“ You see the swirl of ruby glowing off your hand, and wrench one of the wires in your hand nearly out of the port. The staticky screech of feedback that follows is nothing short of desperation, melting into static once more as you box in either end of the screen with your thighs.

Twisting the wire again, you smile as his eyes grow on their display, the red spiral gone. “You don’t need anything right now.” You raise your hips near the edge of his face, watching as the pixels glitch and transform to shades of pink. “You’ll lay here and take exactly what I want from you, right, Vinny?”

Vox’s screen erupts in a burst of color at that, flashing to full brightness with a whimper as he fights to keep some sort of control. As you grab both sides of his screen, his display shakes and glitches every few seconds, humming with anticipation.

Lowering yourself against the pointed edge of his face, your thighs quiver as the first prickles of electricity kiss your skin, barely contained under his screen. The relief is instant, and soon you’re rocking against the surface as your pleasure builds, little bursts of whines and moans escaping out of instinct. As you grasp the top edge for a more stable grip, he swivels slightly to give you better leverage. The new angle bumps against you, causing more slick against his screen, and another whine is torn from his throat, “Fuck, baby you’re so hot up there. Use me— Fucking use me, yes, oh—“

His babbling is relentless and aggressive, grasping for straws in a situation where he has nothing but your pleasure in his hands. Sometimes, he can twist this around to suit him, get you to ride him instead, but not today. Today, you’ll take and take.

You reach back around to the ports that the back of his head, and wring around the thickest one, moving a similar way you would while stroking his cock. Predictably, he goes slack, shrieking a staticky moan and rocking his head up towards your hips. Moving in closer, you’ve maneuvered yourself against the short edge of his screen entirely, knee narrowly avoiding his neck, hips rocking to the middle of the screen with the new leverage.

Once he realizes what you’ve done, there’s no stopping the fuzzy whines coming from him, “Oh— how— ba(bzzz)— fuck, pl(eazzzzz), oh—“ His left eye has completely disappeared from the display, and the tears are back in the other eye, streaming down towards his mouth, open with puffs and moans and cries for more.

You wipe his tears again, gripping the other edge of his screen as your hips rock faster, chasing your own high. You press harder into his face, warping the screen slightly under your touch, “So messy, huh? You’re starting to look like a whore, honey.”

Electric feedback sparks across his screen, an unintentional tease caused by his shortage as he physically buffers and thrashes against your hips. Systems crashing left and right, warning after warning dinging on his display, and the sudden heat coming off his screen — you’re breaking him. And in the middle of this, he’s still making noise, begging you to keep going.

He whines against you, feedback cutting through, “Not a wh(orzzzz)— Fuck, oh fuck, I ca(nzzz)!” You move faster still, slick across his entire screen, muffling his cries. so close to the edge, but—

“You are, Vinny. My whore, my bitch.” You reach one hand to his throat as the other grasps the edge of the screen. “Say it, Vox. Say it.”

His breath comes in hiccups as he squirms, arching into you, “Can’t, can’t s(azzzz) it! I'm not some du(mzzzz) bitch, I'm fu(uczzzz)— ing— oh—“ He ruts at the air as you slow, lifting slightly off of the screen, “No! Whe(rzzzz) are you— please, baby!”

You hold yourself right on the edge, waiting for him to crack, “Well, if you won’t be good…” Hook.

His screen visibly falters, “Good? I can b(zzz)—“

You slip a hand down to yourself, hovering just out of reach above him. “A good boy would accept that he’s a slut, don’t you think, Vinny?” Line.

He starts to move up to meet you, but your other hand grabs at the bottom edge, pushing him back down. His screen glitches into pinks and red again, “But, baby, I'm not— I’m— I—“ His eye fills with tears again as he stares at you, dripping and close to the edge, right out of reach. His voice wavers, breaking into a sob, “Please— ju(szzzz) wanna be a good b(ozzz)— Just for y(zz)— y-“

You pull a little further back, and his voice cracks again. You trace around his ports on the back, feeling his electric pulse through the wiring. “You know what you have to say, honey.” You twist one of the wires again, the thickest one.

His chest heaves as he stutters in a whine, shorting out halfway through with a gasp. Sinker.

He squirms as he begs, trying to pull you closer, “Fuck, please, I’ll be your wh(orzzz)… wh(zzz)… your whore, just use me— treat me like the bit(czzzz) I fucking am! Just come on me, I need—“ He sobs as you finally lower your hips again, sending sparks across his screen and melting your moans with his own.

In no time, you’re back to the edge, grabbing at his wires, his screen, his neck as you get closer and closer. Your slick is loud against the fuzziness of his staticky screen, mixing with his hysterical sobs and your gasps. You pull him even closer, thighs locking, “Oh, oh— Vox, Vox, Vinny— fuck!”

The lights go out as you come, flooding the room with red light from overhead. You slowly sink back from your orgasm, and glance down at his screen — dark as expected, and dripping with you. As his systems reboot, his brightness blasts fully and his face appears back on-screen, blinding you as you catch your breath.

In a second, he has you pulled underneath him, eyes glassy and watery in the display, screen still pink and pixelated. You try to gasp, but it’s drowned out by the whine wretched out of him. He’s shaking in your arms, “Baby, you— I— So good, baby, please let me come, please—“

He buries his screen in your chest, rutting against your hip. Hard and wet against you, you press back along the line of his cock with your body, “Go ahead then. you deserve it— You were so good.”

Another whine, and his hips start moving as a sob tears its way through him, “Thank you— fuck, was so good for you, your little bi(czz), your wh— Oh— f—“

You stroke along his ports as he comes across your thigh, trembling and finally relaxing.

The lights slowly turn on one by one in the room as Vox slumps over you, exhausted. Bodies pressed against each other in a line, you drift off to the sound of his fans cooling down behind his gills.

———

as always, crossposted on ao3 here! this now links to the series — YUP. i hate (love) y’all. PORN SERIES??? HAZBIN PORN SERIES?????????

If the ending sucks……… i’m sorry. it’s 3:17AM NOW LMAO

NSFW! 18+ CW: PWP, hypnosis, overstimulation, dumbification (?), forced orgasm, (mildly) dubious consent (ITS HYPNO OVERSTIM PORN. YALL.), no use of y/n, GN insert (no genitals named!)

———

“Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes flutter, focus snapping back from the ceiling above. The sheets rustle, and the glow of Vox’s screen paints your face in blue, moving closer. His eye pulses in a steady red spiral, and as you stare at him, your body grows heavy again. There's a sharp prick along your skin as cold claws trace a path from collarbone to hip.

The screen brightens slowly, and his grin sharpens, “So pretty for me. So dumb…” Another prick as he grabs your jaw, tipping your head slightly forward. The spiral spins lazily, “You love being dumb for me, don’t you?”

“Yes.” It’s punched out of you, like your body can’t hold back at the feel of metal against your skin. You can feel the static humming off of him as you lean closer, gasping, “Yes, yeah, love it, love you.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, cruel and short, as his grip tightens, one finger slipping into your mouth. The tip of his claw scrapes against your tongue, teasing a piercing wound with the edge of his claws. “Of course you do. and you love how I'm holding you, love how I’m breaking you, don’t you?”

You squirm, whining, but he doesn’t let you answer, turning your head directly into his eyes again. “Yeah, you can try to hide, but I can see it. You let me in your head, baby. And now…” The spiral pulses red again, moving faster, “…you’re going to beg me for more. Aren't you?”

Heat floods your body, equal parts shame and arousal building quickly under your skin. His hand falls to your hip, and your mouth starts to move on its own, “Please, please, V-Vox, I need—“ 

His claws drag down to your thighs, and you cry out, back arching. A staticky cackle cuts you off as he moves lower, pulling your legs apart. He pauses, looking at you again, screen lowered near your hips, “What was that? You should speak up.”

The command rips through you, and you throw your head back, grabbing the edge of his screen in desperation. “Vox, Vox, fuck, I can’t! I need— I need you to touch me, please!”

Your hair is tugged sharply as he grabs you, pulling your head back to face him. His screen brightens again, and all you can see is that ruby spiral. It spins, spins, spins. “Look at me. You can’t— you won’t look away.” 

The burn in your scalp and neck disappears. All you can see is his eyes, his spiral, and his smile growing to fill his face. His screen warps slightly where you’re gripping the edge, and you pull him closer, hips now inches away from his grin. 

His hands push your hips even further apart, “That’s right, eyes on me.” His eyes shift towards you, and his screen blooms in different shades of blue pixels. You try to move closer to him, but his grip is firm as he watches you. 

“So wet, huh? So worked up just for me. I—" he stops, and you can feel his breath against you as he says hovering above you. His eye dilates, and the spiral seems to skip a cycle, glitching for a second. Only a second, but it’s enough for the fuzzy feeling to lift from your head. 

You blink slowly at him, “What’s wrong? Are you—“

You gasp, face flooded in blue again as Vox grabs your wrists, holding you against the sheets. His eye catches yours, and you lose focus again. 

“…That’s right, just slip back in.” His voice floats back through the fog as his screen brightens, “Sorry about that, baby. Wanna touch you now, yeah?”

A moan rises out of you as one of his hands travels down your chest and stomach again. As he moves, you start again, “Oh, please, I'll be good— so good, I just need you to touch me—“

His hand stops just above your hips, and you can feel a slight shock of static. His grin fills his screen again as you grow more impatient, squirming again. His face moves back, screen dimming, “Y’know what? I don't think I even have to, huh?”

Keeping a hand near your hips, his other hand moves towards your jaw again. Tipping your head towards him, he moves inches away from your face. All you can see is the spiral, spinning and spinning. Before you have time to think, the air grows heavy with ozone and his voice comes out, barely a crackle of static against your skin, “Come for me. I know you can, right now. You're desperate enough, aren’t you? Come.”

Your body lights up in sparks as you let go, a moan ripping itself from your chest as your release covers his hand, still hovering above your hips. Back arching, your head stays still as your eyes lock with his, trying to close in ecstasy. Heat blooms across your chest, your hips, your face, as your body follows his commands without hesitation.

You come back to what little awareness you have as his screen glows, brightness climbing and voice glitching, “Oh, oh, it worked. Oh, you’re so good for me, holy shit—“ His hand finally rests on you, and you twitch from overstimulation as he begins to move. You whine, hips moving against him while your mind catches up with your pleasure, “V-Vox— Oh— I—“

He looks at your hips, highlighted in a cyan glow, and moves his hand again, “Hear how wet you are? All for me…” He glances back up at you, releasing your jaw to move down across your collarbone. His grin sharpens, “Go on, baby. Come again.”

You scream as his hand moves faster, sending your next orgasm into overdrive. Twitching against him, your voice cracks, “Fuck! I can’t— Oh, God, fuck— I’m—“ 

The squelch of his hand moving is loud and messy as his laughter buzzes against your face, nuzzling his screen into your cheek now. He continues to move at a steady pace despite your orgasms, “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Oh fuck, again, again—“

Your body locks up, and you writhe against his hand, “Vox— I can’t, I can't, please— oh—“ A sob is ripped from your throat as you come again, throat raw as you scream against his screen, eyes locking with his. Your tears hum against the staticky surface, and the display starts to glitch again as your slick coats his hand.

At some point, you realize that you’re babbling, begging him for something, anything, and your eyes roll back as his screen goes black, buzzing. Free from the hypnosis, your head lies slack against the sheets, body slumped in exhaustion. You shake in his arms as his hands slow, screen gradually brightening once more, erupting into a blue light that blinds your pleasure-addled brain for a moment. 

His face loads on-screen, eyes refocusing on you, sliding down your flushed body. His hand moves from between your thighs with a loud squelch, and you twitch, hips shifting up in protest. His gaze moves up to your open mouth, panting and drooling, before the taste of metal fills your mouth.

You whine as he pushes your release into your mouth, claws scraping against your tongue. Tears start to cloud over your eyes once more as he moves faster, grabbing your jaw with his other hand to hold you still. Moans get caught in your throat as his hand gets covered in drool. As your eyes start to roll back once more, he abandons your mouth to grasp at your neck, claws slipping against your skin in desperation. 

He moves down to nuzzle his screen against your chest, goosebumps dotting your arms. Your heart skips a beat as he looks up with a shark-toothed grin, “You think you can give me one more, baby?”

A whine rises from your throat as you look at him, and his laughter crackles against your skin. The spiral starts to spin again, slowly but surely, ruby red. “Okay, be good. Look at me.”

———

how y’all doing….. LOL.