any fics of fucking Vox so hard the power completely goes out in the making? i looove what you've written for him already, would be really cool if the glitches were visible in the writing too!!
A Little Bit Harder Now ⋆˚࿔
1.1k words | Vox x reader
⋆˚࿔ a/n REUPLOAD OF MY OLDEST GEM!!!! I redid the layout of the original post because it was ugly as hell. Also i’m getting festive for season 2
⋆˚࿔ warnings pegging, small use of ‘mommy’, Vox being a whiny bitch
⋆˚࿔ summary Vox takes it in the ass so hard Hell has a power shortage because he’s just a whore like that.
“Fuck,” Vox’s back arched and his hands went to grip the top of his screen, “Fuck ju—zzs—st like that.”
His voice buffered as you pushed your strap deeper into him. He was on his back with his legs wrapped around your torso so your plastic dick would have easy access to his ass.
You had to hold your hands on his chest to keep him from squirming too much.
“Needy tonight, aren’t we, Vox?” you snickered as you moved the strap inside him.
“God, fuu—ck you, bi—tcc—tch,” he hissed before you cut him off by aggressively forcing pushing deeper into him.
He yelped and moaned, throwing his head back on the pillow.
“You’re in no position to be saying that, sweetheart,” you start moving the strap faster and rougher.
He let out a glitched out whine and stared up at you with pure hatred, and desperate arousal.
Your hands that rested on his hips now dug into him hard enough to break skin.
“A—ah,” he whined, “What’s wr—oo—ong with you? S—slow down.” he whined at how rough you were being but then followed it up with a long drawn out moan.
“Aw baby,” you leaned down and caressed his screen, “Your going to have to learn to be nicer if you want me to slow down. For now you’ll just have to take my cock like the slut you are.”
He surprised himself by whining at your harsh words. Your fingers glided down and brushed over his nipples. He then shocked himself even further with the fact that, despite this humiliating position, he arched into your touch, craving any and all attention he can get from you.
You noticed how desperate he was, and smirked. He looked pathetic, sweaty and panting, covered in markings from your teeth, and looking up at you with a dark clouded expression, waiting to see what you do next.
To his delight, you continued to roughly ram into him, going at a rapid pace, nails once again digging into his hips.
“ohmygodohmygodoh—tsk tsk,” he moaned loudly as his hands clung to the sheets. At this point he couldn’t get one sentence out before glitching.
“Wow, look at you” you remark, rolling your hips, “what a little attention whore you are.”
He whined and threw his head back. At this point, there was a low static-y humming coming from him.
“‘m not—bzz— ‘m not a whore,” his protests were weak at this point. If he wasn’t being interrupted by malfunctioning mid-sentence, he was being cut off by his own whimpers.
“Oh, but you are, sweetheart. Only a whore would be taking mommy’s cock so good,” you coo down at him.
The implication that he was doing good, especially because that meant approval from you, made his brain feel funny.
“See?” your hands move up from his hips and caress the sides of his screen, “your so pretty when you don’t argue with me, baby.”
Oh, that did something to him. He wasn’t around a lot of positive people, so the idea that your attention could be shown with something as kind as praise, made his throat tighten.
His moans turned into choked out broken sobs and all the brattiness from earlier drained out of him. You were sure that if he had tear ducts, he would be crying right now.
You hammered into him harder than ever, leaning over him to occasionally pepper kisses on his neck and screen.
“Nngh— mommy ‘m— bzz— ‘m sorry,” he moaned out, slinking his arms around your neck, trying desperately to bring you closer to him. To make sure he was the only thing catching your attention at the moment.
Your hips rolled fast and rough inside him, and he could feel his climax approaching.
“Sorry for— wait, you’re sorry?” You were sure you knew what he was talking about, his attitude earlier. Still, for a moment you were thrown off by the idea that this cocky, power-hungry asshole was apologizing unprompted to you.
After a moments consideration, you came to the conclusion that he must have been slowly easing into subspace. He was probably apologizing because he wanted you to, what, praise him?
All though it seemed slightly out of character for the usually pretentious, bratty man, his half lidded desperate eyes seemed to convince you.
Your grip on his hips once again tightened as you drilled into him, rougher than before.
“You’re so perfect, baby,” you panted, earning a loud whimper. His arms tightened around your neck and his nails started to dig into the skin of your back.
“So good for me, taking mommy’s cock so well, looking so pretty for me too.”
He whined loudly and the frequency coming from his head started to get louder. You were ramming into him with such concentration that you didn’t notice the lights started to flicker around you.
“c—ccl—close—,” he tried to speak but only uttering a glitched out moan. Luckily, you picked up on what he was trying to say.
“Of course, sweetheart, whenever you want,” you said, rolling your hips once more to make his orgasm even more pleasurable.
“So good for me, Vox, apologizing for being a brat, telling me when your about to cum,” you speak softly into his ear, except you don’t think he comprehends a thing except for ‘so good for me.’
He let out a choked pathetic sob and whined for more. His audio was glitching out more than ever, making him almost unintelligible. Now the flickering of the lights around you was undeniable, even producing a low buzzing sound reminiscent of the one Vox’s head was currently making.
“So perfect, my pretty baby, ‘m so lucky to have such a good boy.”
All of the praise sent him over the edge. With one loud moan, he came.
But in a moment, the buzzing light bulb beside you exploded, and all the illuminated buildings outside your window went dark, causing a full blackout all across the city.
Vox was still clinging to your neck, breathless, panting against you.
“Shit. Was that, like, too much, Vox?” you ask, clearly concerned as you go to pull out of him.
He pulls back slightly from your neck but stops you from moving your strap out of him.
“Please— tsk tsk,” he breathes, still buffering slightly, “Please more.”
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