fall in love

Your heart stumbled.

You forced yourself to look away.

Across the lobby, Vox straightened slightly, adjusting his coat as if nothing at all had passed between you. Somehow that made the corner of his mouth lift just a little.

Charlie kept talking, explaining something about the hotel, but Vox barely listened. His attention drifted again and again back to where you stood.

Never obvious. Never long enough for anyone to notice. But every stolen glance felt like a secret conversation.

A silent I see you.

Your fingers curled slightly at your side, resisting the urge to look again.

Because if you did, you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop. And Vox was looking at you like he already knew that.

As Charlie eagerly launched into yet another explanation about how Angel Dust could absolutely, definitely achieve redemption, the room’s attention shifted to the stage she’d improvised in the lobby.

Perfect distraction. From the corner of your eye, you saw movement.

Without making a show of it, Vox drifted closer, his steps slow and deliberate until he stood beside you like he’d always been there.

His eyes stayed forward, screen angled toward Charlie’s presentation.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

You huffed a small laugh. “Hi.”

Neither of you looked at each other.

Vox tilted his head slightly as Charlie excitedly flipped to another chart.

“I’ll never understand why you waste your time here,” he murmured.

You smiled faintly, arms loosely crossed. “It’s fun.”

A soft scoff crackled from his screen. He leaned just a fraction closer, voice dropping a notch. “You know we could be having much better fun back at V Tower.”

Your gaze stayed forward, though the corner of your mouth lifted. “I’ve grown attached.”

For a moment Vox didn’t respond. Then a quiet sigh slipped from him—dramatic, but not truly annoyed. “You always did have a habit of adopting strays.”

You bumped his arm lightly with yours.

The moment Charlie bursted into song, the entire lobby seemed to light up with theatrical enthusiasm.

You barely had time to process it before a familiar hand suddenly closed around yours.

Before you could even react, Vox was already pulling you backward through the lobby. “C’mon,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s bail before the princess hits the chorus.”

“Vox!” you protested, stumbling after him, laughter slipping into your voice despite yourself. “I can’t—she’s technically my employer!”

“Oh relax,” he scoffed, glancing over his shoulder with a crooked grin lighting up his screen. “Trust me, she’ll still be singing when we get back.”

He guided you swiftly down the hallway, past the lobby and out of sight of the others, his grip never loosening as he scanned the corridor like he was looking for something.

Then he found it. A narrow closet door. Without hesitation he tugged it open, pulled you inside with him, and shut it quietly behind you.

The small space plunged into dimness, broken only by the soft glow of his screen.

You were still half-laughing from being dragged down the hall.

“You are unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head. “Kidnapping me from work now?”

Vox leaned back against the door like he owned the place, one brow lifting on his screen. “Kidnapping?” he repeated. “Please. I’m rescuing you.”

You leaned back against the shelves with a sly grin.

“Hm,” you mused. “I wonder why you dragged me in here, Mr. CEO. What nefarious deeds are you planning?”

Vox tilted his head, a crooked smile stretching across his screen. “You and that smartass mouth,” he muttered fondly.

“Unfortunately,” he added, voice lowering just enough to send a warm shiver through your chest, “I’m not feeling very patient today.”

Before you could fire back another teasing remark, his hand slid to your waist and pulled you firmly toward him.

Then he kissed you. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t subtle.

His mouth was hot against yours, hungry in that way only Vox could be — like he’d been starving for you since the second he stepped into the hotel.

You melted into him instantly. Your hands fisted in the front of his expensive suit jacket, pulling him closer even though there was barely any space between you. The closet smelled faintly of cleaning supplies and old wood, but all you could focus on was him — the cool press of his claws at your waist, the way his thumb kept stroking your cheek like he couldn’t stop touching you.

He finally pulled back just enough to let you breathe, “Fuck, I missed that,” he growled, voice rough with static. “You have no idea how hard it is to walk in here and pretend.”

You let out a breathless laugh, “You’re terrible at hiding it. I saw you staring.”

“I wasn’t staring,” he lied smoothly, “I was… observing.”

“Observing me.”

“Exactly.” His hand slid lower, gripping your hip possessively as he pressed you back against the shelves. A bottle of something clattered softly behind you, but neither of you cared. “Can you blame me? You’re standing there looking like that while the princess is babbling about redemption. It’s criminal.”

You grinned, “You’re just jealous I spend more time here than at V Tower.”

Vox’s eyes narrowed, that signature smirk turning sharp and dangerous. “Jealous?” He leaned in, voice dropping that always made your knees weak. “Baby, I own half this fucking city. I don’t get jealous.”

But the way he said it — the way his claws dug in just a little harder — told you otherwise.

“Then why do you always try to steal me away?”

“Because you’re mine,” he murmured against your neck, “And I hate sharing.”

The words sent heat rushing through you. You tugged him back up into another kiss, this one messier, more impatient. His tongue slid against yours, and the low groan he let out nearly short-circuited your brain.

“Still attached to this place?” he teased, voice husky. “Or are you finally ready to admit you’d rather be bent over my desk instead of listening to group therapy sessions?”

You laughed softly, “Keep talking like that and we’re never making it back to the lobby.”

“Good.” Vox’s grin widened, sharp and wicked. He pressed his thigh between your legs, crowding you even more. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The next kiss was far more frenzied than the last — desperate, messy, and starving. A low, crackling growl rumbled from his screen as he crashed his mouth back into yours. His claws dug into your waist hard enough to make you gasp against him.

He tugged his bowtie loose with one sharp yank, letting the silk hang open around his neck while his other hand shoved your shirt up your torso. You didn’t hesitate — your fingers immediately attacked his vest buttons, popping them open with frantic urgency.

You shoved his suit jacket down his shoulders, barely getting it halfway off before dragging him back into another bruising kiss. His claws raked up your sides, cool and electric, sending sparks across your skin. You moaned softly into his mouth and he swallowed it greedily —

The closet door flew open.

Bright light flooded in.

Velvette stood there, one perfectly manicured hand still gripping the doorknob, her face twisted in pure annoyance.

“Vox, you absolute shithead,” she snapped, voice dripping with disgust. “Why the fuck can’t you keep it in your pants for one goddamn second?!”

Behind her, the entire lobby — Charlie and others, had gone dead silent. You felt your soul leave your body. This was going to be a very long day.

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

His tone remained completely stoic as he checked the glowing screen of his tablet. “They need you home in fifteen minutes.”

Your fingers curled slightly at your side.

You glanced back at the crowd. A small demon girl was bouncing excitedly on her toes at the barricade, clutching a cheap notebook like it was treasure.

Your chest softened.

“Surely they wouldn’t mind if I’m late for a few minutes,” you said, half to yourself.

Your manager inhaled slowly. “I wouldn’t recommend—”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you walked toward the crowd. The moment you stepped closer the barricade shook with excitement.

“Oh my GOD—”

“She’s coming over!”

“Holy shit!”

A bright smile spread across your face naturally, warmth flooding through you at the sound of their voices.

“Hi,” you laughed softly, leaning over the barricade. “Wow, there are so many of you.”

“WE LOVE YOU!”

“Can you sign this?!”

“Please look at my camera—!”

You took the notebook first.

“Of course,” you said gently, signing your name in looping strokes.

A young demon boy was nearly vibrating with excitement as he handed you a pen. “Please sign my arm!”

You laughed. “Alright, but it better not be permanent.”

______________________

The ride back to the tower was silent. Oppressively silent.

The limousine glided through the neon-soaked streets of Pentagram City, its tinted windows reflecting the chaos of Hell outside—blaring billboards, flashing advertisements, and the massive screens.

You sat in the back seat, tapping your foot against the floor.

You had spent thirty minutes with the fans. At the time it hadn’t felt long at all. But now? Your stomach twisted.

Your manager sat across from you in the opposite seat like a silent statue, pretending not to notice the tension filling the air.

The limousine slowed and then stopped.

Outside the window rose the towering silhouette of the V Tower.

The door opened and you stepped out. The lobby swallowed you immediately in polished marble. The elevator ride up felt longer than usual.

You stared at your reflection in the mirrored walls, smoothing your clothes automatically while your mind raced.

You could handle this. You could probably sweet talk your way out of this. Right? You’d done it before.

You exhaled slowly as the elevator doors slid open onto the private floor. The hallway was dimly lit in soft purples and reds, leading toward the familiar lounge the Vees liked to occupy when they were all home.

It sat just beside your room.

Your steps slowed. You inhaled deeply.

Okay. You could do this.

You pushed open the lounge doors. And immediately walked into thick pink smoke.

Your stomach dropped.

The entire room was hazy with the sweet, heavy scent of cigarettes and something far more expensive.

Valentino’s smoke.

Shit.

Your eyes flicked through the haze as you stepped inside. Was Val the one waiting? If it was Valentino first… that complicated things.

That could go in any direction. Val was the most unpredictable of the three. Sometimes he laughed things off. Sometimes he turned the smallest mistake into a spectacle.

And the worst part? You could never use the same strategy with him twice.

You took another step inside carefully. But before you could speak—

A voice cut through the haze. “Late tonight, babe?”

Your shoulders instantly relaxed. Relief washed through you as you recognized it. Velvette.

You exhaled quietly. Vel was… manageable.

Out of the three, she was the most level-headed. With her, you could actually use logic.

You chuckled softly, slipping into the room as if nothing were wrong. “Yes,” you said casually, brushing invisible dust off your sleeve. “You know how it is.”

You stepped deeper into the lounge, the pink smoke curling around your ankles like lazy ribbons. The tension you’d carried up the elevator started to loosen.

Velvette didn’t look angry. If anything, she looked amused.

“Saw your videos online,” Velvette said casually. “People are posting about it like crazy.”

Your grin returned instantly.

You stepped closer and leaned over the back of the couch, sliding your arms loosely around her neck from behind. The gesture was easy—practiced. You rested your chin near her shoulder, voice softening as you spoke. “Sooo…” you hummed. “You’re not mad, right?”

Your tone tilted just a little playful. A little sweet. Maybe a little sensual too.

Velvette’s lips curled into a slow grin. “Oh, of course not, hon...”

Relief spread through your chest like warmth.

See? You could handle this.

She turned slightly toward you, leaning in as if to meet your lips. You leaned in too...

Velvette spoke again. “...But they are mad.”

Something cold slid around your torso. Before your brain could even register what was happening—

Wires snapped tight around you.

They coiled around your waist and arms like living things, yanking you backward with brutal precision.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Shit.

You’d let your guard down.

A solid mistake.

It felt like the moment in a horror film where the protagonist realizes the monster has already closed the door behind them.

The wires dragged you backward across the lounge floor before suddenly releasing.

Your body dropped. You hit the ground hard, your hands slamming down first to cushion the fall. The impact rattled through your arms and shoulders, your breath catching in your throat.

You barely made it halfway up before blue chains snapped into existence around your neck.

They manifested out of crackling electricity, glowing bright against the smoky room.

And then he yanked hard. Your head jerked forward sharply.

Across the lounge, seated comfortably like he had all the time in the world, was Vox. One hand rested lazily on the arm of his chair. “Do you have any last words to defend yourself?”

His voice was detached. Almost polite. If someone didn’t know better, they might even think he sounded… considerate.

But you knew him. That tone meant something else entirely. He was giving you a chance. A very small one.

Vox liked cleverness. Liked charm. Liked when you talked your way out of things with sharp little remarks that amused him.

It entertained him.

So this—This was the moment where you either impressed him…Or made things worse.

Your mind raced. You forced yourself to breathe and gather your thoughts before speaking. “I— um—”

Your voice came out tighter than you meant. “I realize we had a schedule…”

Vox tilted his head slightly.

“…but it was only delayed because— you know, to maintain the image of your company.”

A quiet hum escaped him. Not angry. Not approving either.

Encouraged, you kept going.

“So I only gave some time to the fans—”

The chain snapped tighter. You hissed as it dragged harshly against your throat.

“You can give those measly low sinners time of your day online,” he said coolly. “Live sessions. Signed posters. Fan interactions.”

He gestured vaguely around the tower with his free hand. “All doable from here.”

Before you could even form a reply, the chain around your neck vanished. The glowing links dissolved into blue static that flickered briefly in the air before disappearing entirely.

Across the room, Vox leaned back in his chair. His left eye glitched—expanding into black concentric circles.

Then he smiled. “R̷̨̓u̸͈̿ṅ̶͖,̴̹͆ ̵̭̚d̷̲̂ö̸̧́l̴̫̅l̶̗̃.”

Your body moved before your brain caught up. You scrambled to your feet and bolted. Your heels pounded against the polished floors of the lounge as you rushed out into the hallway, adrenaline surging through you.

But even as you ran, you knew it didn’t matter. This was V Tower. Every camera, every screen, every wire in the building belonged to them.

If they wanted you caught, you’d already be caught. Which meant this was just playtime.

The hallways were already filling with thick pink smoke, curling from vents and doorways until the visibility dropped to almost nothing.

Your heart hammered as you turned corners blindly, the world around you reduced to dim neon lights and clouds of sweet, choking haze.

Left.

Right.

Another hallway—

You slammed directly into something solid. Strong hands caught your arms before you could fall. You looked up.

Valentino grinned down at you, sharp teeth flashing through the smoke. “Running away from Voxxy?” he purred. The amusement in his voice was obvious.

His glowing eyes scanned your face like he was savoring the panic written there. “Need some help?”

You didn’t know what the hell they were playing at. But you knew one thing. You had to play along.

Slowly, you nodded. Valentino’s grin widened.

Without another word he grabbed your wrist and pulled you through the smoke, guiding you down the hallway with confident ease—like he could see perfectly through the haze he’d created.

Before you could question it, Valentino tugged you inside and shut the door behind you.

You could hear distant footsteps somewhere in the hall. Or maybe that was just your heartbeat.

You could feel the heat of his body in front of you. There was nowhere else to go. You swallowed.

Valentino sighed dramatically, one of his hands bracing against the wall beside your head. “Y’know…” he drawled, “We really had a fun surprise planned for you tonight.”

His other hand lazily hooked under your chin, tilting your face upward. “But since you decided to be disobedient…look what you’ve done.”

Your lips pressed together. You forced your voice steady. “I— I’m sorry. This was just a one-time thing,” you added quickly. “I swear it won’t happen again.”

“Well,” he murmured, amusement dripping from every syllable, “I need more than words, conejito.”

Outside the closet, faint static crackled somewhere in the hall. You both heard it.

Valentino chuckled softly under his breath. “Sounds like Voxxy’s still looking. Are you ready to absolve for your crimes?”

His thumb brushed over your lower lip, pressing it down slightly. “You have to be quiet. Very, very quiet. If Vox hears that pretty voice of yours in here, he’ll ruin our fun.”

He leaned in until you could feel his warm breath against your ear, his voice dropping into a dangerous, silky whisper. “So let’s shut up that pretty mouth, hmm?”

Valentino didn’t wait for a reply.

In one smooth motion he stepped back just enough to give himself space, his free hand already working open the front of his pants. A moment later, you felt the heavy, flushed head of his cock brush against your lips, hot and insistent.

“Open,” he ordered sweetly, tapping the tip against your mouth. “That’s it… good girl.”

You parted your lips and he immediately pushed forward, sliding the first few inches into the wet heat of your mouth with a low, satisfied groan.

“Fuuuuck, just like that,” he sighed, his head tipping back. One of his hands slid into your hair, gripping tight but not forcing you further yet.

A soft, wet sound escaped you and Valentino immediately shushed you with a mocking little laugh. “Shhh, shhh… remember what I said, baby. Not a sound. Unless you want Vox to rip that door open and see you on your knees like a desperate whore.”

He started moving faster, shallow thrusts, his grip in your hair tightening. “That’s right. Just like that— mierda, your tongue feels so fucking good.”

The pink smoke in the air was thicker now, sweet and dizzying, making your head feel lighter as Valentino fucked your mouth. Every wet glide of his cock over your tongue was punctuated by his low, filthy praise. “You’re getting so sloppy already… drooling all over my cock like a good little cocksleeve. Does it turn you on knowing Vox is right outside while I use this throat?”

Valentino groaned deeply, his hips snapping forward. “Mmm, just like that, baby. Keep sucking— fuck, your mouth is so warm…”

Your eyes were watering, lips stretched tight around his thick length when—

BANG.

The door was ripped open violently.

Bright light flooded in. You gasped for air, strings of saliva dripping down your chin as you whipped your head toward the door, face burning with humiliation.

Velvette stood there, one perfectly arched brow raised, her glossy lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Aww, hiding in here?” She let out a mocking laugh. “How fucking pathetic.”

She stepped inside without hesitation. The door clicked shut behind her, plunging the space back into dimness.

Valentino chuckled lowly, “She was being such a good girl for me, Vel. So quiet. Until you scared her, anyway.”

Velvette rolled her eyes at him before turning her attention back to you. She crowded in closer, her smaller frame pressing against your side as her fingers slid under your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Bet you thought you were so clever, didn’t you?” she cooed mockingly.

Before you could answer, Velvette’s other hand slipped down your body with zero hesitation. Her fingers traced over your dress before sliding underneath the hem, pushing the fabric up your thighs. You shivered as her hand boldly cupped your pussy over your panties, two fingers pressing against your clothed slit.

“Ohhh?” Velvette’s smirk widened, eyes sparkling with delight. “You’re soaked, babe. Fucking dripping.”

She rubbed slow, teasing circles over your clit through the thin fabric, making your hips twitch involuntarily.

Velvette leaned in, lips brushing your ear as her fingers slipped under your panties, finally touching your wet folds.

“Keep that pretty mouth open for Val,” she whispered sweetly. “Because if you make too much noise while I play with this needy cunt… I’ll make sure Vox finds you with both of us using you like a cheap fucktoy.”

Valentino made you stand and dragged you futher in the room.

The room was pure Val — gaudy, luxurious. A massive heart-shaped bed dominated the center, covered in blood-red silk sheets that shimmered under the low pink lighting. The air smelled like expensive perfume.

Valentino walked backward toward the bed, pulling you with him. He dropped down onto the silk sheets. He leaned back against the mountain of pillows, looking far too pleased with himself.

You wrapped your lips around him obediently, taking him back into your warm, wet mouth. Valentino groaned loudly, hips rolling up to push deeper. “Fuuuuck, yes. Just like that.”

Velvette climbed onto the bed behind you, pushing your dress up over your ass. She yanked your soaked panties down to your knees in one rough tug.

She didn’t waste time.

Two fingers plunged back inside you without warning, curling instantly against that sweet spot. You moaned around Valentino’s cock, the sound muffled and wet.

Valentino laughed breathlessly, “Mmm, she’s sucking even better now.”

A low, distorted chuckle crackled through the room like static. “You two couldn’t help yourselves, could you?”

Your eyes widened in panic, but before you could pull off, Valentino’s hand tightened in your hair, forcing your head back down with a lazy thrust.

“Mmm, don’t stop now, querida,” he moaned, voice thick with pleasure. “Hey, chasing our amorcito is your kink, Voxxy~ Not ours.”

Velvette snorted, still with her fingers buried in your dripping cunt. “I like getting straight to the point,” she said, smirking. “Unlike Mr. Dramatic over here.”

Valentino’s hips stuttered, “Fuck— take it all, baby—!”

He came with a long, filthy groan, thick ropes of cum flooding your mouth and sliding down your throat. You swallowed desperately around him, struggling to take every drop while your own orgasm hovered dangerously close. Valentino finally pulled his spent cock from your mouth with a satisfied sigh, patting your flushed cheek.

Just as the tension in your belly started to snap—

Velvette ripped her fingers out of you.

A broken, desperate moan tore from your throat as your aching pussy clenched around nothing. You were so close. So fucking close.

Your hand shot down instinctively, trying to reach your throbbing clit to finish yourself off, but blue wires exploded snapped tight and yanked your arms upward, pinning both hands above your head against the silk sheets.

Vox tsked loudly, “Uh-uh. You don’t get to cum until you’ve earned it, doll.”

You whimpered, hips twitching in the air, completely denied.

Velvette moved up the bed, swinging one leg over so she was straddling your face. She grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at her slick, glistening pussy hovering just above your lips.

“Eat up, princess,” she ordered sweetly, lowering herself onto your mouth. “And do it properly.”

You obeyed instantly, licking and sucking at her folds like a starving woman. Velvette moaned, grinding down against your face, her fingers tangling in your hair to keep you in place.

Behind you, the bed dipped as Vox climbed on. You felt the heat of his body, the cool metal of his claws gripping your hips, and then—

The thick head of his cock slid slowly up and down your soaked pussy, teasing your entrance, spreading your wetness, bumping deliberately against your swollen clit.

He pressed the head of his cock against your hole, just barely pushing in before pulling back again, torturing you.

“You want it?” he asked, static crackling through his tone. “Then beg nicely. Maybe then I’ll fuck this needy pussy like you deserve.”

You pulled your mouth away from Velvette just enough to gasp out a broken plea, voice hoarse and dripping with need. “Please, Vox… please fuck me,” you begged, breath hot against Velvette’s cunt. “I need it— I’ll be good, I swear. Please stop teasing… I can’t—”

Vox let out a low chuckle. The tip of his cock pressed against your dripping hole, stretching you open as he finally sank inside.

“Ohhh, fuck…” you moaned loudly as he filled you, the stretch delicious and overwhelming.

But the relief only lasted a second. Vox started thrusting — slow, deep, and deliberately cruel. He angled his hips so his cock dragged along your walls without ever hitting that perfect spot inside you. Every stroke left you aching, desperate, and frustrated.

Velvette yanked your head back down roughly, smothering your mouth against her pussy again. “Less talking, more eating,” she snapped, though her voice was breathy with pleasure. “Don’t stop until I cum all over your pretty face, got it?”

You whimpered into her cunt, licking and sucking desperately while Vox continued his maddening pace behind you. He gripped your hips tighter, claws digging into your skin as he fucked you with perfect control — never letting you have what you really needed.

Valentino laughed from his lounged position on the bed, lazily stroking his cock back to full hardness as he watched the show. “Aww, poor little muñeca,” he cooed. “Voxxy’s being so mean to you.”

You knew Vox too well.

He could tease and edge you for hours if he wanted, but when he was getting close to his own release, his pride wouldn’t let him cum while you were still unsatisfied. Not when he considered you his. It would be a blow to his ego.

And you were right.

Vox’s thrusts started losing their cruel rhythm. His hips snapped harder, faster, and finally — finally — the thick head of his cock started slamming directly into that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.

A broken, muffled moan vibrated against Velvette’s pussy as pleasure flooded your body.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl tonight…” Vox growled, his voice glitching with static, “I’ll let this slide. Just this once.”

Valentino chuckled lowly, shifting closer on the silk sheets. He grabbed your wrist, pulling one of your hands away from where it was pinned and wrapping your fingers around his hard, throbbing cock.

“Aww, isn’t he generous?” Val purred mockingly, guiding your hand to stroke him. “Now be a good little slut and make us all cum, amorcito.”

You worked your hand along Valentino’s length while your tongue moved faster between Velvette’s folds, flicking desperately over her swollen clit. Velvette’s thighs started trembling around your head, her fingers tightening in your hair. “Fuck— yes, right there—!” she gasped, grinding down hard against your mouth. “I’m gonna—!”

Velvette came first with a sharp cry, flooding your tongue with her release. You kept licking her through it, moaning as her pussy twitched against your face.

The overwhelming sensation of all three of them, combined with Vox’s relentless thrusts against your g-spot, finally snapped the coil inside you.

You came hard with a muffled scream, your whole body shaking violently between them. Your pussy clenched tight around Vox’s cock as waves of blinding pleasure crashed through you, soaking his length.

“Shit—!” Vox snarled, his claws digging into your hips as he buried himself deep. His cock pulsed hard inside you, filling you with hot, thick spurts while he kept slamming into that spot until your vision whited out.

Valentino groaned loudly, hips jerking into your fist as he came too, painting your fingers and the red silk sheets with ropes of cum.

The room was quiet except for the sound of heavy breathing slowly settling down.

You were completely spent — body limp and trembling on the ruined red silk sheets, thighs sticky, lips swollen, and mind blissfully fuzzy. For a long moment, none of them moved.

Then Velvette let out a satisfied little sigh and slid off the bed. She returned a minute later with a warm, damp cloth.

“Stay still, babe,” she murmured, surprisingly gentle as she wiped between your legs and cleaned the mess from your thighs and chin. “Such a fucking mess you made… look at you.”

Valentino chuckled softly, pulling you against his chest the second Velvette was done. His long arms wrapped around you like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

“You were so perfect, hermosa,” he purred, pressing lazy kisses along your shoulder and neck.

You hummed tiredly, nuzzling into his chest. One of his hands stroked up and down your back in slow, soothing motions while the other played with your hair.

Vox appeared on your other side, screen dimmed to a soft blue glow. He pulled your back flush against his chest, sandwiching you between him and Valentino. His claws traced light patterns on your hip, surprisingly careful not to scratch.

Velvette climbed back onto the bed and curled up against your front, facing you. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, her usual sharp smirk softened just a little.

“You’re lucky we like you so much,” she said, tapping your nose. “Any other bitch would’ve been crying and thrown out by now. But you…” She leaned in and kissed you slowly, almost sweetly. “You’re ours.”

You smiled weakly, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. “I’m sorry… won’t happen again.”

Valentino laughed softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “We know you won’t, babe. Because if you do, we’ll chain you to this bed for a week and fuck that rebellious streak right out of you.”

Despite the threat, he cuddled you closer, one of his wings draping over you and Velvette like a warm blanket.

Vox’s arm tightened around your waist possessively. “You belong here. With us. Not out there wasting time on worthless sinners who don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

You nodded, eyes already half-closed as the three of them surrounded you completely.

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

<<<Main Masterpost

The entire room was spinning, and even when you closed your eyes you could feel the bed underneath you start to swirl in the opposite direction. You immediately moved to lie back down onto the bed slowly, grabbing onto the fabric underneath you for some grounding perch. 

You, quite frankly, couldn’t fully recall all the details and events of last night. The major events flashed by in your memory like photographs, but the specific details fell into the recesses of being forgotten. 

Your head drummed like the reverb of a gong, loud and intense, as you recalled the few snippets you do clearly remember. The bitter, burnt taste of cigarettes still lingered on your tongue, and the back of your throat ached with strain from yelling and singing along to music. 

You remembered most of the start of the night, spending your time with your friends and grossly relaying the pitted secret you’d be harboring for the past few days. 

In your sobering hour, you really debated if that was ultimately a good decision or a bad one. Either way, it already happened. Nothing can change that. 

Flickering remnants of dancing in the maelstrom of bodies, being graced by pretty and handsome varieties of sinners. In the depth of your memory, you vaguely recalled shimmering gold on dark skin and bright eyes. Aside from that, you couldn’t quite remember the details of their faces. If anything, the heat of their touch was cemented onto your skin.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” a voice you’ve gotten quite used to hearing recently rang in your eyes. He had a cheery lilt to his voice. You only softly groaned out in response, burying your face into the silk pillow. 

Your heart sank to your stomach. Of all fucking people you could’ve gone home with last night, it was your boss. This was embarrassing. Now that you pieced coming home with Vox, the faded memories of ogling him trickled in. 

Really, you could only remember speaking to him at a close distance, chests flushed against each other — conversation topics forgotten about. But just knowing you two were … entangled in such a compromising state was enough for you to know that your ancestors were rolling in the graves, or wherever they ended up.

“Fuck noooooo,” you complained, voice muffled out against the fabric. The mattress dipped lower when a new weight came to join you on the bed. Large claws caressed your head, patting you softly as you continued to cry against the pillow. 

“I’m so sorry if I gave you any trouble last night,” you immediately spat out, fighting the urge to punch yourself in the dome for being so reckless and getting yourself wrapped up in this situation. 

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” You murmured into the sheets, hands reaching up to clutch at your own hair in frustration. Vox’s hands slid over yours, gently prying your claws off of your locks. 

“I’ll pretend it didn’t happen,” he sighed, smoothening out the tangles in your hair. “But obviously you owe me.” Naturally, he had to remind you. 

You half-heartedly swatted his hand away from your head, a few “yeah, yeah, yeahs,” spilling from your lips. Your hands drew to your face, burying your shame deep into the cusp of your palms. 

“Thanks for getting me back safely,” you begrudgingly sighed through your hands. “I probably was a fuckin’ mess.” 

“You were,” he paused, “fine.” The vague intonation of his voice made you immediately suspicious and furiously embarrassed. 

“Fine?” You choked out, lips curling downward into a deep frown. You bit down on your tongue, eager to know how you actually were last night. 

“You were a bitch to put to bed, but that’s it,” Vox begrudgingly confessed, poking at you with a sharp claw. Behind his tight smile, you knew there was another story lying just underneath the surface. But, behind your stubbornness laid a man equally, if not more, stubborn than you were. 

You glanced over toward the clock in the room, the hands on its face blurring and swirling together like a wormhole. You could barely see the metal prongs move along the ticks of the clock, squinting your eyes hard to guess the time. 

Vox’s eyes trailed over to what you were glancing at, smiling in amusement at your struggle to orient yourself.  Vox murmured out the time for you before making his snarky comment, “I’m surprised you woke up at all, let alone this early.” 

Shockingly, it had only been 9am — much sooner than your personally predicated 1pm wake-up time. Honestly, it was a relief that you were stirred alive this early; it gave you much more time to reorient yourself and feel like a proper demon again. 

You feebly groaned in response, squeezing your eyes shut once again as the room continued to spin. You really hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years. Nausea crept up from your stomach and toward your throat, threatening to send you over the edge of embarrassing moments with Vox.

If this is how you were feeling, you weren’t exactly confident that you could tug on the reins of your own stability. Every glance around the room, every burdening inch of movement, and even the dim shine of soft light made you want to hurl. 

“Let me take care of you,” Vox softly insisted after taking quick notice of the contortion of your face as you attempted to keep everything down. He traced small circles on your back, the gentle and sharp angles of his claws drawing faint lines along your spine. 

“Nu-uh, you’re gonna expect more ‘I owe you’s from me,” you croaked out with a slight gag, pushing the TV demon away from you. You collapsed against the mattress, leaning your head over the edge of the bed — blankly staring at the dark wooden boards. 

The floor was spinning too, but you’d rather throw-up on the floor than on the freshly done bed. Save yourself the more difficult clean-up and perhaps a slightly more embarrassing situation. 

“At least drink this,” his voice chimed from above you. A bright and glittery flash of bright purple cut into your view, his claws curled around the small glass. The iridescent bottle shimmered against the contracting dark floors, and an all-too-familiar logo was affixed to the neck of the bottle via a small tag. Another Velvette potion. 

In a quick act of desperation, you snatched the vial from his fingers and choked down the entirety of the mysterious liquid. Almost immediately, a cooling air wrapped around your nauseated senses and eased you back into comfort. There was a newfound clarity among the static noise of your brain. It was almost like you were reborn. Again. 

Normally, you’d be more cautious with the substances being ingested in your body that aren’t your usual indulgences. But to Hell with it, you were feeling like shit and you’d drown yourself in whatever hangover cure if it got you feeling right as rain. 

The buzz from the liquid lingered on your tongue — a faint flavor of pomegranate, delicious and intense. You hummed to yourself, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Honestly, you liked this one better than the energy potion. Maybe you should cash in some favors with Velvette from time-to-time if she could make an energy drink taste like this. 

“Good,” Vox mused quietly, plucking the vial back from you and swiftly capping the empty glass. You lolled your head to the side to look Vox in the eye, still drowsy and tired but stable enough. To Vox, you looked damn-near like a sickly Victorian — all the color drained from your face and the generalized weakness shown in the languid way you moved. Perfectly pathetic. 

“Add that potion to my laundry list of shit I owe you,” you meekly comment. “And Velvette for that matter.” A hum left your lips as you gently lifted yourself up from the bed. 

You wanted to sink yourself into the soft bed and rot there for the rest of the day, but alas, a demon’s work is never done. Even without the hangover cure, you were holding yourself to the standard of clocking into work today. And without the excuse of feeling nauseated, you definitely needed to go to work. 

You and Velvette didn’t cross paths last night, but you had assumed she had some inkling of what you may have been up to last night — given the potion. It was likely that she was also just as hung over as you, but if she went to work and you didn’t? She’d kill you. You had zero excuse to not show up today. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said earnestly. Vox looked over at you with softened eyes. He absolutely adored seeing you in such a state of gratitude. It only boosted his ego more, especially when it came from such a sight for sore eyes. 

“Can’t let my best employee end up in some shady back alley," he jested. Vox slowly stood up from the bed, dusting off the front of his slacks. He extended a hand out to you, waiting for you to gingerly take it.

“I guesssss,” you accentuated, raising your brows at Vox. You gently laid your hand in his, letting him pull you up out of the bed. “You’re just blowing smoke up my ass after the other day.” As soon as the words left you, you began to feel your insides curl into a tight, cringing sensation. 

Way to bring up your mouthiness so casually. He literally threatened you over it.   

But your worry immediately washed away as soon as he spoke again, and without an ounce of malice or pettiness lacing his tone. 

“I’m honest enough,” Vox insisted with a charming grin. “But if you won’t take my word for it-” he trailed off and drew out his phone from his pocket. Vox opened up whatever himself-branded social media app he was on, quickly searching for the 666 News account. 

He held his phone up in front of you, scrolling through a series of comments underneath one of the media posts from the broadcast channel that highlighted the big reports from the evening. Every comment below spilled with girlish appraisal and love for the team. 

omg katie looks soooo good!!!

guys … hear me out …. tom is kinda-

oh my this is GAGGG worthy

their wardrobe team is EATING rn

vox could step on me and i’d say thank you

idk what they’re cooking up in vee tower but they are looking extra GOOD

i’m gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure

tbh these outfits are so flattering on them. i like it better than whatever slop they wore before

HOT HOT HOT !!!!!

A warmth crept onto your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the wide-stretched, proud smile joining your flushed face. Honestly, the crew of broadcasters were already generally an attractive collection of sinners, most of the praise automatically locked themselves onto the pretty faces. But you noticed the occasional comments about who made them look so good. And your pride from that could not be diminished at this moment. 

You look up from the phone to stare back at Vox, a bright twinkle in your eyes. The entire time you read through the comments, Vox had been admiring you — from your tousled bedhead and droopy eyes scanning over the body of text, and the most infectious smile he’s seen outstretched on your face. 

“Told ‘ya,” he laughed, curling a large hand around your shoulder. “You make me look good.” 

“I make all of you look good, apparently,” you sassily correct. 

You slipped Vox’s phone back into his hand and ran your fingers through your tangled mess of hair. You felt so disgusting and fucked up, you couldn’t even imagine how badly you looked either. And all of that was embarrassingly laid out before your boss and potential person of fuck-interest. 

“I should head out,” you sheepishly insist, glancing around the room for any proof of your bag and all of its contents. “I’ve got five hours until I need to see Velvette and I’m in no shape to see anyone right now.” You explained, scrambling to swipe your bag off the night stand. 

“I’m honored to be the only one to get to see the sight,” Vox teased, walking over toward the room door to open it for you. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get to have a say—“

“Mhm, you technically did,” He shot right back, the most smarmy look on his face. “You were practically begging me to take you home.” 

Obviously, based on his tone he was either exaggerating or flat-out lying. Either way, you took his comment with a grain of salt despite your apprehensions about why you ended up at Vox’s in the first place. 

“Shut up,” you groaned with a half-hearted laugh. You fished through your bag, counting along all of your items — phone, cigarettes, pre-rolls, lighter, wallet, keys — everything had safely returned with you. 

Your eyes met Vox’s once again before you murmured another gratitude to him. Your shoulders slumped with exhaust, deeply grateful for him getting you home safely and in a nice, comfy bed. And he went out of his way to get you a little cure-all for work today. 

Honestly, it was sweet. 

“You can thank me properly when you fulfill your end of the bargain,” Vox sharply beamed. 

Okay, not sweet anymore. 

While you did not actively understand the inner workings behind that screen, you could tell he already had something in mind. Your lips tighten into a fine line, unwilling to prod further into what was in store for you. You didn’t even want to know the flurry of bad thoughts that barraded his head. 

You had some inkling, but you didn’t dare to ask further regarding the matter. 

“Fine,” was all you had to say before scurrying out of the room. You kept the conclusion short and curt — desperate to get out of there in your current state. The sooner you left to make your walk of shame, the sooner you could freshen up and feel more or less normal. 

You gave a quick goodbye to Vox and left him in the dust of his own apartment, practically scrambling out of being within eye and ear-shot. 

As you stood in the elevator to make your way to your apartment, your mind was teeming with elicit thoughts that were far from the norm. 

Your mind replayed the small snippets that you vaguely remembered from the night before. The warm, intimate lingering of your hands over each others’ bodies. The slurry of alcohol that nestled itself in your stomach and the butterflies that started to flutter up to your chest as you both inched closer. 

Fuck.

You buried your face into the cusp of your hands, mentally berating yourself and your own intrusive recollecting. Last night you had planned to go out and catch some tail, and yet you came home with the one person you were trying to get your mind off from — and you didn’t even get laid by the end of it. 

Maybe it was for the better. 

Your mindless slip-up a mere hours ago led you to be even more buried in all the conflicting feelings you had for the TV demon. And reminiscing on his purring voice and fiery touch did not help ease any of your turmoil. You scolded yourself for letting you be so unfettered. 

You should’ve known better. And you couldn’t blame anything on the alcohol or the soft-drugs. Your drunken subconscious plotted to ruin your life in the hopes of — in an ideal world — letting your body feel gratified for the evening and get all of that pent-up sexual energy released. 

Either way, you would’ve gotten fucked.

The most you could do now is try to keep diligently working for Velvette again until your feelings for Vox dissipated. You could guarantee the next two days Velvette had you all to herself, but then you’d have to go crawling back to Vox for a meeting concerning the business gala set next month. 

Maybe now that your first assignment with him was done (and you had all the important information you needed to keep making suits for him and his team), you wouldn’t need to see him as frequently. You could only hope. 

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but for you it should give yourself enough time to steel off your feelings of fear and arousal. The need for professionalism had to outweigh your own personal desires. 

There was a pleasant solemn silence in your home, uninhabited and peaceful. It was just you and the quiet for the next few hours. While it was perfectly serene and a distinct difference from the boisterous evening you had, it left you alone with your own brain and the detailed fantasies that prickled in the back of your head.  

You found yourself looking at your own reflection in the bathroom — met with the personification of disaster. 

Surprisingly, your hair wasn’t as destructive as you thought it would’ve been, but your face still showed evidence of the drunken slumber you had. Sleep lines cut across your face and the make up Beau did for you last night was either long gone or smudged along your tear lines and down the apples of your cheeks. 

And, most notably, you were still wearing Vox’s shirt. It was pretty wrinkled, but otherwise devoid of any other marks or smudges. As you began to unbutton your blouse, you realized that your clothes from the night before were still laid underneath the sea of white fabric. 

You hummed to yourself as you slowly removed the article of the clothing, letting the shirt spill around the floor of your bathroom around your feet. While you were barely giving Vox any points for this, you did appreciate that he didn’t outright try to take any advantage of your inebriation. 

But that was the bare minimum. He shouldn’t get any points for being a half-decent guy. 

And still, your mind lingered on the idea of Vox being otherwise ungentlemanly. There was a part of you that mused over the thought of Vox slowly stripping you down before laying you to bed. His eyes wander over your exposed body, daring to let his hands trace over your curves and linger across your cold skin. 

Vox’s head dips down in-between your legs, the buzz from his screen sending jolts up and down your body. His lips don’t even get close to kissing down your calves, but he gently takes your shoes off and tosses them to some corner of the room. 

You don’t know what it would feel like to kiss him, but you imagine it’s electric, fuzzy like a carbonated drink and tickling along your skin. Enveloped in his warm glow, hands caressing down the curve of your spine. You arch closer to him, chests flush against each other.

You inch closer to him, warm breath glazing over and fogging up the part of his screen where his carnivorous grin had been outstretched. You want to feel his teeth graze against your pulse, a daring bite clamping down on the crook of your neck. You want to devour him just as badly as he wants to ravish you. 

Vox pulls back away from you, teasing you into desperation. His claws lightly dig into your hips as he tugs you closer to the edge of the bed. Vox’s hands loop underneath the waistband of your bottoms and pull them off — tantalizing and slow like he’s toying with you. 

He doesn’t dare to touch you further than he already has. The dark room is illuminated only by his glowing screen as he ogles every part of you, relishing in how exposed you were. Just for him. 

At this point steadily on your way to drowsy town, the high quickly catches up to your exhaustion, but you keep your eyes locked onto him through fluttered lashes and half-lidded eyes. Vox’s claw draws a line down the middle of your torso, daring to drift all the way down. 

You whisper his name out, softly urging him to get closer to you — to touch you, to feel you, to hold you, to fuck you. Your breathing feels uneven and labored, desperate to have him closer to you. Vox’s hands slowly drag over the buckle of his belt, undoing the leather from its confines before unbuttoning his own pants. 

You immediately stopped yourself from thinking about it further. Your face was engulfed in red and your hands were gripping the edge of your sink. You turned on the cold water and splashed yourself in the face with it. You groaned into your hands, unfortunately frustrated and horny. If you could drown yourself in the small puddle of water in your hands you would. 

Get a hold of yourself.

You need to get ready for work and get yourself in a decently presentable state. And right now with all your intrusive thoughts about Vox, you may need an extra hour to yourself. Hopefully, after then, you can banish yesterday's events into the ignored crevices of your memory — along all the things that are better off forgotten. 

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

With a startled gasp you jolted awake through your bedroom door creaking open and a loud person stumbling in. Scarcely looking around you could see the TV screen of Vox glimmering in the doorframe, your pulse calmed down but your mood did not.

He held himself up, wobbly at that. Even from afar, wrapped in blankets and safety you could smell him, reeking of alcohol. If it weren't for your tired state, you would've snapped at him instead of trying to ignore his presence.

For that Vox didn't care, he stripped himself of his clothes and almost fell to the ground while slipping out of his pants. “Baby? I'm missed you,” he muttered, grammatically incorrect, mismatching his words with a cracking voice. The night out with Val leaving its traces.

Still half dressed he flung himself against you, wanting to fall asleep in your soft embrace. Vox mumbled incoherent words, if you catched one that sounded similar, it was debunked the next second with something that didn’t fit your logic. It sounded like sweet words directed to you, then complained about Valentino and Angel Dust until you reached Alastor.

You wanted to push him out of bed, badly. Despite his body having fans to keep him cool, he was as hot as a heater and it radiated off on you. Add to that his smell, cheap perfume and whisky mixed with all the stereotypes this man could fulfil.

Feeling his limps wrap around you, you tried to even out your breathing and not scrunch up your nose in disgust. The demon nuzzled his head – as good as possible – into your neck, inhaling your scent as his screen dimmed and eyes closed, drifting into deep slumber while you stayed awake with tired eyes and slowly realised what time it was, what he had done and that tomorrow he would have no recollection of this incident.

Carefully you slipped from his grasp, replacing your upper body with a pillow and even that he didn't notice. Taking your blanket and another pillow, you decided on sleeping on the couch as with Vox's extreme odor you would have a migraine in no time. It cut you deep, heart beating a little faster at the thought of leaving him to wake up alone but it wasn't like you had a choice.

You waited all night for him, telling yourself he was held up at work and would be there any minute, but he never came. Instead the evening dragged on and on, like a bad dream you wish to wake up from. It all came crashing down when Velvette sent you a video of Vox and Valentino drinking each other under the table, you wanted to scream or throw something.

In your good nature you decided against it, telling yourself he wasn’t worth your tears and anger. You chose yourself over him and made your dinner alone, ate alone and enjoyed your time alone.

If it weren’t for the state he had arrived in, you would’ve held him accountable but tomorrow seemed like a better choice.

Morning came with eerie light flooding Vox penthouse and with a pained groan he awoke, clutching his head in agony. “Who would’ve a hangover was this bad for a TV,” he muttered to himself as he stretched his limps out, a satisfying pop of his bones echoing along the walls.

As he became aware of his surroundings, he noticed your absence – were you already in the kitchen? You made it a habit to wake up with him, why would you break it now. Slowly he rose from his bed, noticed his worn dress pants covered in wrinkles then stripped them without hesitation.

Truthfully he didn’t need to look for you as he noticed you on his couch, sleeping soundly and wrapped into a fluffy blue blanket. With confusion written over his screen, processors almost overheating in thought he nudged your shoulder, successfully waking you up. “Yes, Vox?” you grumbled, shielding your eyes from the brightness with your fingers.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” He questioned dumbfounded, did you flee from him? “Because you came home with drunk as fuck,” you stated the obvious, looking up him, trying to hide your growing annoyance.

“And? Like did that disturb you so much or what?” he continued asking, observing you intensely even as you stood up and threw the blanket away. “Yes, it did, otherwise I wouldn’t have left,” you told him clipped, moving towards the bathroom but having no luck and Vox following you like a lost puppy.

“You always wake up with me,” he argued, but it didn’t have any foundation because it was factually incorrect. He woke up at dawn, before anyone else even thought about waking up and he was loud enough to wake you up too. If you could decide, you would continue sleeping for another hour or two, maybe longer, well and if he was shit faced? You would definitely not wake up earlier just to please him.

Instead of indulging into his fight, you told him; “there is a first time for everything.” He didn’t like that either, but who were you to care? You turned on the shower, testing the temperature of the water and freeing yourself of your bra and panties.

Vox watched you before his brain sprung into action, clumsily putting his boxer shorts off to join you but you held up a hand just before he could enter. “You come home drunk and don’t even apologize for forgetting?” “I forgot to tell you I was going out? Sorry my phone wasn't charged!” Your eyes must’ve been comically wide as you heard those words from him, you knew he was serious and sometimes you wished you didn’t.

“Is your brain even there?” you tapped the glass of his face. If he was able to communicate with Shok.wav then he was able to tell you he was running late, however if he forgot and was embarrassed about it then it wasn't a wonder he claimed his phone was dead.

Speechless Vox took a step back, scowling slightly at you. He would never forget anything, he was the smartest overlord in hell. Meaning it was a prosperous assumption to say he had no brain, let alone have something slip his mind. “Well, you try running an empire! Then you'd forget some stuff too,” he exclaimed, gesturing widely at all of your surroundings as if they helped his case.

You shook your head, reminding yourself you were above his petty bullshit even though he made it hard not to get provoked. Because after all he still hadn't remembered what exactly he forgot and just like a fish swimming in a circle his mind went blank when thinking about the previous evening.

Annoyed, he stomped out of the bathroom, muttering curses along the way as if they would fix his mistake. Oh, you would have a field trip telling Velvette about this. Despite your lack of motivation you showered and dressed yourself nice enough to leave Vox behind – at least in his home.

As you stepped out, you noticed he had cleaned himself up and sat on the couch with spread thighs nursing another drink. He was swiping through holograms, updating himself on any work he had missed or scandals he could use to his gain.

Fuck, why was that sexy? You asked yourself, watching him closely. He had no intention of moving even though he heard you, keeping his eyes trained on the sight before him, “gonna stand there all day?” He teased, a light smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and you knew he knew how attractive you found him just now. Only Lucifer himself could make you admit that to him now.

“No, I'm meeting Velvette. She has new clothes she wanted me to try on,” you explained, keeping your voice monotone. Vox raised an eyebrow, “I thought you hated playing dress up with her?” For a moment you considered throwing a vase at him, you loved trying on Vel's clothes and furthermore make fun of her models with her.

“I always liked it,” you snapped, stepping closer to him. It wouldn't be the first time he forgot one of your interests. One time you told him about a book you would love to read and the next day he brought you a completely different one, a genre you hated.

Just last week you talked about picking up an old hobby you had on earth and as you bought he asked what you were doing, acting as if you had never told him about this. You told him three times. As he swore on not knowing, you pondered if it was actually you who forgot – until Val of all people mentioned how interested he was in seeing what you came up with. Even fucking Valentino knew of your hobby.

“Sure you did,” he huffed, ignoring your fiery gaze as he sipped his whiskey. Banging the door loudly close, you left the penthouse, having the intention of calming down though it was nearly impossible with Vox.

———

In your pure hate – not that's too strong, madness? Too crazy…stubbornness, yes that's it – stubbornness, you decided on sleeping in your own flat for a while. It wasn't like you could actually stay away from Vox, because you didn't know why he always chose you instead of letting you be.

You did know though that he had been blowing up your phone for days, wishing you would come back and saying how much he missed you. Funny, how you never told him he couldn't come to yours but he also didn't use that brain of his often. All you did was put on pajamas and dance around your bedroom as one thing was sure, that TV would not taint your good mood.

“And I like my men all incompetent, and I swear they choose me,” you sang along into your hairbrush used as an imaginary microphone. Jumping to the beat of the music, you didn't hear the door opening and only a faint shadow.

Once you turned around you screamed, startled at the sight of Vox leaning against your wall, bow tie undone, no jacket and dress shirt half unbuttoned. He looked distraught and pathetic, what had he done to himself? It was like a train ran him over multiple times and then asked him to apologize, Satan you enjoyed this way too much.

“I'm sorry baby, I didn't want to scare you…I just missed you,” he whined, stepping closer to you and holding out his arms, a desperate ask to wrap himself around you. Rolling your eyes, you backined him to get on the bed with you and like the touch starved man he was, he wrapped his arms around you like an octopus.

“I didn't even see you yesterday, or the day before and I didn’t even know what happened!” he complained against your chest, but you knew exactly he was capable enough to remember but too incompetent to do it on his own, “of course you Manchild,” you whispered. Pressing him tighter against you, admittedly you enjoyed him like it.

He was a huge idiot, whining when something didn't go his way and complaining if you forgot about his favourite shark movie but then couldn't remember your favourite flowers and how important date night to you was.

But he was yours, despite his relations to the other Vee's you were the only one he came back to, even if it was like this and that was something you really didn't want to trade – no matter how red those flags were waving in front of you, you ignored them knowing it was your own fault for choosing a manchild.

taglist / please be kind to reblog or comment as it keeps your fav writers motivated!

vox; @thegirlnextdoorssister @yybrzzs1 @sugarydollita @madamedesalaunier @nak0me1usine @scootlerdoodler @writersblocker9 @justgiulia @eis1kitsune @ghostpix1 @yofshiw @voxs-bow-tie @deadgirl-walking1989 @sallymoon135 @ashtomicdumbness