Allie

I ran out of link space (whatever tf that is) so I was forced to make a new one:) Stay safe and enjoy reading<3

DC COMICS

BNHA

MCR

QUACKITY

FNAF

HAZBIN HOTEL

TBHK

Synopsis: While the Vee’s are out at a boring Overlord Meeting, Y/N finds herself enthralled with a certain VHS tape that has no label on it. Wonder what’s on it?

TW: suggestive content (non explicit sex, mentions of p0rn/sex tapes, mentions of cum), use of Vox’s wires, mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of age gaps

A/N: Named this one after a Haute & Freddy song<3 have really been enjoying their music lately. Anyway, I’m headed out of town later this week so🫡 I will be back the following:)

TV, Sharks & Moths Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Thank you so much, Ethan!”

Y/N gave the eel sinner a bright, almost dazzling smile as he carefully rolled a large trolley through the entrance of her penthouse. The poor thing was practically buried beneath stacks upon stacks of VHS tapes.

There had to be at least hundreds of them.

Some were neatly hidden inside plastic cases, others were shoved into cardboard sleeves, and a few of them were left exposed with a simple handwritten label.

Ethan stopped the trolley in the middle of her living room before taking a step back and adjusting his glasses.

“Mr Vox informed me that some of these may be personal older tapes and to use your best judgement.”

Y/N beamed, looking over the treasure trove of tapes in front of her. “So one of them might contain porn. Noted.”

It had been years since she last held a tape or even acknowledged VHS tapes. Growing up, her family had plenty with movies, taped television shows, and home videos. But since arriving in Hell and finding herself associating with the Vee’s, this older technology was simply outdated.

“Oh!”

Y/N hurried over to her shark shaped handbag, which had been abandoned on her couch alongside her stuffed animals and blankets.

“Hold on,” she said, opening her bag. “I know I’ve got some money in here somewhere…”

Her hand disappeared into her bag.

There was a tube of lipgloss, a hairbrush, some candy wrappers, a receipt for something she didn’t remember buying, sunglasses, and a rubber duck that looked like her which had come from the Hazbin Hotel during her last visit.

“Here we go!” Y/N said, proudly holding up her wallet as she pulled out a plethora of different coins.

She then walked over and placed the coins down in Ethan’s hands.

“This should be enough for compensation, yeah?”

Ethan looked down at the coins in his hand before looking back up at her, muttering a small “thank you” before leaving.

As Ethan left and the Overlord was left alone to her own devices, she turned back to face the trolley.

“Movie night!” She declared as she immediately began to sort through the films.

She made three piles: the ones she wanted to watch, the ones she didn’t want to watch, and the ones that were most definitely pornos.

Tonight, the Vee’s were away at another Overlord Meeting, which left Y/N to be the only Overlord occupying V Tower for the evening.

Not that she minded.

“‘Good Girls Get Good Grades,’” Y/N read aloud before sticking her tongue out in disgust as she set the tape down with the other pornos.

Y/N continued to sort through the tapes, and every once in a while she’d stop and stare, either because she was unsure what the label said due to the horrible handwriting or because the title itself left a lot to the imagination.

She didn’t want to accidentally put a porno in the watch pile.

Eventually, the three stacks had been made, with the movies she wanted to watch now sitting on the coffee tables in neat stacks.

Moving back over to the trolley, she grabbed the dusty VCR from the bottom shelf. She then walked over to her television and hooked it up, nostalgia hitting her like a wave.

Once it was set up, she hummed happily to herself and spun around, only for her tail to hit one of the stacks of movies that didn’t interest her.

Groaning, Y/N dropped to her knees and began to gather up the discarded tapes, only to stumble upon one that stood out from the others.

“This one’s unlabeled.”

Y/N turned the tape over, examining it like it would suddenly come to life. There was no label, date written, plastic case or a cardboard sleeve.

This one was a total blank slate.

“Well, now I have to watch it.”

Getting up, she slid the tape into the VCR and settled onto her couch, pulling a fluffy blanket over herself. She then placed her large half eaten popcorn bowl into her lap as the screen fizzled with static.

She silently ate for a moment, anticipation keeping her interested in the film.

But for several minutes, static just continued to play.

“Watch this be a porno,” she said to herself. “God, I hope—.”

The static on the screen flickered to show a grainy image of a torso and two arms stretched out, as if whoever was standing in front of the camera was adjusting it.

“I think it’s recording..?”

Y/N tilted her head as the figure moved away to reveal—.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, pointing at the screen. “That’s Vox!”

Indeed it was Vox, however, this version of him was much younger looking. His sleek and modern tv head had been replaced with something boxier, and his slim frame and large chest had been replaced with something smaller.

He then cleared his throat, a hand over his mouth.

“I was told to use this for a week as Voxtek is testing out a new video camera,” younger Vox explained. “A prototype. The research and development department think video cameras are going to become a profitable consumer product. Which…they will.” He concluded, like an after thought.

“Just say this is supposed to encourage people to make homemade sex tapes,” a familiar voice said from a distance.

Vox’s screen flickered before readjusting.

“Must everything be sex with you, Valentino?”

As if on cue, a younger Valentino walked onto the screen. He still looked as tall as ever with his neck fluff and his wings folded around his body, but now he had smaller and circular glasses and notably, he still had both of his antennas.

“Not always.” He said, bending at the waist as he flashed a smile at the camera along with a wave. “Hi anyone watching~!”

Behind him, Vox sighed with annoyance before wires appeared and wrapped themselves around Valentino’s waist, dragging him backward.

“Hey—!”

“You’re not allowed anywhere near this camera,” Vox snapped. “Especially after you broke the last one.”

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t going to survive some cum?” Valentino huffed as Vox stepped in front of the camera again.

“For fucks sake—.”

The screen returned to static as Y/N blinked at it.

“Aw,” Y/N frowned. “It’s done.”

The screen then flickered back to another grainy picture.

The screen was dark aside from the Hell moonlight slipping in through the crack of the plum colored curtains. The footage shook for a moment as the camera zoomed in to show the silhouette of a younger Vox. It looked like he was laying on his back, and as the camera moved again, Y/N spotted a familiar set of moth wings resting over Vox’s lower torso.

“Can you even see him?” Valentino whispered behind the camera as the footage shook again.

The camera zoomed in again before zooming back out.

“Can’t see shit.”

As the video cut again, a pit threatened to appear in Y/N’s stomach. A pit that reminded her that no matter how many times she had seen this familiar scene with her own eyes, Valentino had been there since the beginning.

He had seen every version of Vox.

Every head.

Every body.

The screen cut to static again before it came back on with Vox and Valentino in the distance. They sat at a bar and based on the shimmering gold and velvet, Y/N assumed they were at the first club Valentino had opened in Hell.

“You should try out one of my bitches, Vox,” Valentino suggested. “They’re obedient, you know.”

Vox shook his head and grabbed his glass of whiskey. “Pass. I have standards.”

“But fucking a porn star is okay?” Valentino purred.

Vox didn’t react, but Y/N was sure his facial expression had changed even though she couldn’t see it.

“Who? You or Tiffany Titfucker?” Vox asked, drinking his whiskey.

“Me!” Valentino scoffed, crossing his lower arms. “What the fuck?”

Vox set his glass back down on the table. “You’re an Overlord now. Not some…well, maybe you still are a porn star.”

A frown appeared on Y/N’s lips.

This was when Valentino was still an up and coming Overlord.

And Vox had been there to mentor him.

They’ve had each other since the beginning…

And as if to add salt to the ever growing wound, the next scene showed a brief glimpse into their sex life.

“Look into the camera, amor~.”

Vox shoved the camera away, his screen flickering with dark cyan flush.

“Don’t g-get this shit on camera.”

The VHS then ejected.

Y/N stared at her reflection in the black screen of the television for a long moment before eventually removing the bowl of popcorn and blanket.

She shuffled over to the television and held the VHS tape in her hands.

Truthfully, she had expected the worst. She had expected to find some embarrassing recording, some scandalous secret, maybe even something she’d immediately wish she hadn’t seen.

And, well…she had gotten a glimpse of something like that toward the end.

But she certainly hadn’t expected to find home video footage of her two lovers, Vox and Valentino.

Those two men on the tape were unmistakably them. The voices were the same. The mannerisms were the same. Even the little habits she’d come to recognize were there.

But they were younger.

Less experienced.

Less powerful.

They were the versions of themselves that had existed when Y/N herself was only just being born.

The versions of themselves that had lived entire lives before she had ever entered Hell.

Of course, she’d seen photographs and heard the stories. She knew that Vox and Valentino had known each other for years. Decades, even.

She knew they had built an empire together. Fought together. Betrayed each other, forgiven each other, and somehow always found their way back to one another.

But knowing about a lifetime was different from seeing it.

Y/N wasn’t jealous.

Why would she be?

There was no point in being jealous of something that happened before she ever existed in their lives. She couldn’t be angry at them for having a history without her.

She knew that.

She understood that.

And yet…there was something strangely painful about watching it.

Something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Because for the first time, Y/N had been given a glimpse of what Vox and Valentino’s relationship looked like without her in it.

And it had looked complete, but not perfect.

She knew they were probably dysfunctional back then as they were now. They probably enabled each other’s worst habits and still hurt one another in ways neither of them would ever admit.

But they had survived everything together.

They had a history that stretched back decades.

Inside jokes Y/N would never understand.

Memories she hadn’t been there to make.

Stories she would never be a part of.

A lifetime that belonged entirely to the two of them.

Y/N lowered the tape slightly.

Who would have guessed that she would end up feeling like an outsider looking in on a relationship that had existed long before she ever arrived?

Synopsis: Today's another rainy day in New York and after finishing up a recording, Vincent decides to step outside for a cigarette break. Only for America's favorite sweetheart—Y/N—to appear behind him, asking for a cigarette lighter.

TW: cigarettes

A/N: I’ve been wanting to draw Alastor but I can’t bring myself to do it☹️

Masterlist

Rain had a way of changing the city. It softened New York’s constant noise into something quieter, muffling the already impatient car horns along with the steady hiss of tires that rolled through the waterlogged streets. 

The side walks glistened beneath rows of streetlamps, every puddle reflecting distorted streaks of neon from local diners, theaters, and department stores that refused to let the gloomy weather keep customers away. Umbrellas drifted through the afternoon like colorful flowers as individuals hurried past businessmen while mothers ushered their children out of the rain.

Inside, New York's favorite television station was alive. 

Telephones rang nonstop. 

Typewriters clacked in uneven rhythm, their metallic sound echoing across the newsroom as reporters hurried to meet impossible deadlines. 

Editors called across crowded desks with stacks of papers being exchanged, and nearby, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the smell of cigarette smoke that had settled into the walls over the years. 

Every department had its own orchestrated chaos.

Producers disappeared behind studio doors carrying clipboards with revisions. Camera operators rolled equipment through narrow halls, asking those in the way to politely step aside. Makeup artists rushed from dressing rooms while actors rehearsed their lines under their breaths.

Today was just like any other rainy Tuesday. 

Inside one of the studios stood Vincent Whittman, New York’s beloved weatherman. He stood in front of a weather map, using his decorative lightning bolt pointer to aid him, a professional smile written across his face. 

“And remember, trust us with your weather!”

He said it so effortlessly like it had been rehearsed. Which, after a year of working as the weatherman, it had been. 

Once the lights turned off and the cameras stopped recording, Vincent’s smile dropped as the world continued to ignore him as it always did. 

Not that he particularly minded because right now the only thing in his mind was the need for a cigarette. 

Passing his pointer to a nearby assistant, he headed toward the exit of the studio and pushed the heavy metal door open as the smell of rain greeted him. 

Immediately, his shoulders loosened.

It was amazing what thirty seconds away from cameras and bright studio lights could do for a person.

Fishing out a cigarette case from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he tapped one loose against his palm before placing it between his lips. His lighter followed shortly after—a simple silver thing that had accumulated a fair number of scratches over the years.

Click!

A small flame flickered to life as he cupped it against the breeze, shielding it with one hand until the end of the cigarette glowed a warm orange.

The first inhale settled deep in his lungs as he slowly exhaled it toward the sky.

For a few blissful moments, there was nothing demanding his attention.

No producers asking for last minute changes to the forecast.

No cameramen reminding him where to stand.

No frantic stagehands counting down the seconds until he was expected to smile for an audience of millions.

There was just rain.

Vincent’s eyes wandered across the city, idly watching raindrops ripple across the puddles collecting on the sidewalk.

Then, the studio door behind him creaked open and he glanced over his shoulder automatically, expecting another employee searching for a quiet smoke break.

Instead, his heartbeat forgot how to function.

Y/N stepped out, carefully pulling the heavy door shut behind her before absentmindedly brushing a few damp strands of hair away from her face.

Even dressed down between filming, she somehow looked effortlessly put together. A cream colored coat rested neatly over the costume she had worn on set, its collar turned up slightly against the damp air. She held a cigarette between two fingers, though it remained unlit as she took a moment to admire the rain falling over the city.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

Vincent, however, had noticed her immediately.

Of course he had.

How could he not?

Everyone in the building knew who Y/N was.

She was one of the network’s brightest stars—a leading actress whose face appeared on magazine covers nearly as often as it appeared on television screens. 

Viewers adored her. 

Critics adored her.

And Vincent…he had been hopelessly infatuated with her for nearly two years.

Not because of the magazine covers.

Not because of the television interviews.

Not even because half the country seemed convinced she was the most beautiful woman alive.

No. 

It had started on a rainy afternoon in the employee parking lot, when she had accidentally locked her keys inside her car.

Vincent had been the unfortunate soul to witness her trying—and failing—to pry the driver’s side window open with a ruler she had borrowed from a receptionist.

He had offered to help her, but neither of them had accomplished much besides laughing at how unqualified they were.

By the time maintenance had arrived with the proper tools, they had spent nearly half an hour talking.

She had laughed at one of his awful jokes.

He had made her smile.

Then she thanked him, waved goodbye and life continued.

Since then, their interactions had consisted almost entirely of polite smiles in passing, the occasional “good morning” in the hallway, and once sharing an elevator ride in complete silence because both of them had been too exhausted after filming to manage conversation.

Ridiculous.

Two adults working in the same building, and he had somehow managed to make absolutely no progress whatsoever.

Y/N finally turned, her eyes landing on him as recognition brightened her expression almost instantly.

“Oh! Vincent.”

He offered what he desperately hoped resembled a normal smile.

“Hello.”

It came out a touch higher than intended, but either Y/N didn’t notice or had graciously pretended not to.

“I was hoping someone else would be out here.” She lifted the unlit cigarette between her fingers with a small grin. “Smoking alone always feels a little depressing.”

Vincent let out a quiet chuckle.

“I suppose misery prefers company.”

“It certainly does.”

She wandered over beside him. "But you know, I've always loved rainy days because the world seems to slow down," Y/N confessed. "People stop pretending like they're in a hurry. They duck into cafes and linger under awnings...everyone seems a little more patient."

"I've never thought about it like that."

Y/N laughed. "Well, you get to be pretty observational when you're trying to convince audiences that you're someone else."

Vincent smiled despite himself.

"I spend my days observing the clouds."

"See?" She teased. "We're practically colleagues now!"

Vincent let out a quiet laugh.

"I suppose we are."

"Actually, I've caught your broadcasts a few times."

Vincent blinked, looking at her.

"You have?"

Y/N only smiled and looked away, patting the pockets of her coat before she huffed in annoyance.

"Oh, come on..."

"Did you lose something?" Vincent curiously asked.

"Honestly," she sighed, "I think someone in wardrobe is stealing my lighters."

"You think there's a lighter thief?"

"There has to be," Y/N replied. "I've gone through four this month."

"That's rather impressive."

"I should really start putting my name on stuff," Y/N admitted.

Without thinking, Vincent placed his cigarette into his mouth with one hand and reached inside his pocket for his lighter. But before he could hold it out for Y/N to use, she was invading his personal space.

She was close enough that he could see the tiny rain droplets on her eyelashes.

She was close enough to where he could catch the floral scent of perfume.

She was close enough he could see the small freckles on her face.

The ends of their cigarettes met with ease, the orange ember brightened before Y/N's cigarette caught.

She then pulled away, exhaling a stream of smoke into the air.

"There we go."

Meanwhile, Vincent stood there a flustered mess as every coherent thought had abandoned him, being replaced with the realization that the Y/N L/N had been right there.

Instinctively, Vincent took a drag of his cigarette in the attempt to appear nonchalant, but unfortunately, the smoke caught in his throat and he erupted into a coughing fit.

"Oh my gosh!" Y/N exclaimed, worry written across her face. "Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine," Vincent assured between coughs.

"No, I'm sorry for startling you!" Y/N apologized. "I thought I would just do something silly! I didn't mean for you to choke!"

Vincent continued to cough, although now he was starting to calm down a little.

"I'm usually much more composed than this."

Y/N tilted her head.

"I don't know...I think I find this version much more charming."

Synopsis: Y/N’s got every reason to avoid Valentino, and while Vox and Velvette both understand why, Valentino seems blind to it. (Or in which Val rlly doesn’t think he’s ab*sive)

TW: nsfw/suggestive content (the p0rn industry, Val’s dick gets mentioned waaay to much, r*pe mentioned/alluded to, nonconsensual touching) Val is toxic and bipolar af, mentions of OD/alcohol/Val being physically ab*sive, events in “Weight Watchers,” Val putting Y/N down, Val degrading women, physically ab*se, panic attack

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for some months now and I’ve been patiently waiting to upload it😌 I’ve written a few Vox centric stories so I figured it was time for Val😌

Main Masterlist

TV, Sharks & Moths Masterlist

Valentino’s studio was chaotic as always with sultry lights beaming down, cameras rolling from every angle and assistants that hurried around with makeup kits and water bottles.

“Cut!” Valentino yelled as his stars paused mid fuck session, as if they had been caught red handed. “For fucks sake, if I wanted stiff performances I would have hired corpses.” He spat, “let’s try this again!”

His stars quickly hurried to reset their positions without complaint because nobody argued with a Vee, unless they were stupid or had a death wish.

Normally, this was the part of the day where he’d have another distraction that wasn’t just his cigarette burning. A very persistent and cheerful one named Y/N.

She’d always wander into his studio, sometimes while he was filming and other times when he wasn’t. Either way she’d wander over to his chair, curiously stand beside him and ask, “what are you filming today?”

Valentino would tell her and soon, she’d be seated in his lap like a cat would with its owner. Sometimes she’d play on her phone, other times she would mess with the fluff around his neck or even take a drag of his cigarette even though she hated smoking.

She’d always complain about the taste but then somehow would end up taking another drag.

If Valentino was watching one of the monitors, she’d lean too far into him and make a comment about what was being filmed. It was usually something silly, and somehow her lips would always find his.

Around them, many of his employees pretended not to notice because of how often she appeared in his studio. At some point, Y/N became apart of the scenery—the ditzy shark Overlord who showered a really nasty Overlord like he was innocent.

Today though, Valentino’s lap was empty.

There were no random comments. No nails running through his fur. No shark tail happily swiping through the air as someone tripped over it.

Her absence should have made filming easier, but it didn’t.

Where the hell was she?

She could have been with Vox, hell, she was dating him as well.

She could have been with Velvette, maybe out shopping for another set of cute lingerie.

Or maybe she was visiting her territory that resided on the outskirts of the Pentagram.

As the film wrapped up, Valentino’s attitude seemed to sour, which wasn’t totally unexpected.

He waved down one of his employees who nervously walked over.

“Do you know where Y/N is?” He asked.

“Y-Yes sir.” They nodded, “she was here—.”

“Why isn’t she here now?” Valentino snapped.

“Sh-She stopped by l-long enough to drop a g-gift off for Angel Dust, then she—.”

“Angel Dust?” He interrupted as he stood up, “where’s this little ‘gift’ at?”

The sinner quickly ran off and returned with a little box, and inside was a wind-up toy spider that was suspiciously painted in Angel Dust’s color scheme. Valentino frowned and demanded for the gift to be thrown away, and so, it was.

Valentino tried to keep his thoughts rational about the gift. Y/N was a sweetheart…maybe she just wanted to show Angel Dust she appreciated his ‘friendship.’

It didn’t take long for him to retreat to his office and send her a single text…then two…then five…then fifteen…then thirty…

Was she ignoring him?

As the thought settled in his mind, he remembered walking into Vox’s penthouse last night to find the two of them on the couch. Y/N was laughing and animatedly saying something to Vox, only to quiet down after Valentino walked in and then make some excuse as to why she had to leave.

Then there was the day before that—now that Valentino thought of it—where Y/N said she had somewhere to be after he had come to ask Velvette a question.

One time wasn’t anything.

Twice was just a coincidence.

“What the hell is her problem?”

His words lingered in the empty space. The same space where Y/N usually curled up in his lap and talked about whatever came to her mind.

And for the first time all week, Valentino realized that she wasn’t just making up excuses for the fun of it, she was purposefully avoiding him.

•••

The clacking of heels echoed throughout Velvette’s department.

Mannequins stood shoulder to shoulder in half finished outfits while fabrics were strewn about, ready for use. Assistants hurried from one side to the other as they carried armfuls of supplies ranging from fabrics to sequins to feathers.

Velvette stood in the middle of the organized chaos, screaming at another wannabe assistant who she was close to firing because of how much they had fucked up in the last hour.

“Did I ask for fucking leather? No. I said velvet.” She snapped, “how could you forget something like that? The fabric and I share a god damn name!” She then snapped her fingers, pointing off in another direction to emphasize her point. “Now go fix the problem!”

“Babydoll~. Are you busy?”

Velvette sighed and looked over to find Valentino standing in the doorway.

She turned to face him, a hand on her hip as he easily descended the small staircase the led down to her floor. “What do you think, twat? I have to get these prototypes done before Vox looses his shit again.”

“Mhm. Yeah, that’s nice.” Valentino hummed before stopping just in front of the shorter Overlord. “Do you have any idea why Y/N is fucking ignoring me?”

Velvette looked up at Valentino—who was still quite tall despite the fact he had bent down at the waist—with a look. One that said: “you’re kidding me, right?”

“You can’t be that stupid, Val.”

“That whore is fucking ignoring me!” Valentino snapped, “who the hell does she think she is? One minute she’s: ‘Oh Val, I love you and please fuck me into tomorrow,’” he said as he put on a voice, “and now she’s making bullshit up just to avoid me!”

Velvette cringed. “Ugh, okay. TMI on the sex stuff. But you’re literally answering your own question, Val.”

Valentino blinked, crossing his lower set of arms. “I don’t get it. Are you trying to tell me that I did something wrong?”

Velvette gave a long silence before nodding. “Yeah…that’s it.”

“What did I do wrong?” He asked her.

“Do I really need to list it out for you?” Velvette then sighed again, “alright. Fine. You made her have an overdose not once, but six times.”

“She wanted it.”

“She was drunk all six times.”

“She still wanted it.”

“You’ve laid your hands on her—.”

“I always put my hands on her.”

Velvette glared up at him. “You know I mean. Don’t try that word play bullshit with me.”

“When have I ever hit her?”

“You hit her two months ago because she was out at a party after she forgot it was your night with her.”

“I was just making sure she would remember for next time.”

“Not only that, but you are constantly putting her down.”

“Okay, see, now I know you’re lying because I would never do that.”

“Uh…she literally doesn’t have most if not all her organs in her body anymore because of you?”

“She should be thanking me.” Valentino admitted, “she was fat.”

Velvette stared up at him before looking away. “You’re in-fucking-credible, Val.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Valentino then paused before tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses. “Is she telling you lies behind my back?”

Velvette quickly looked back at him.

“Girl, wha—?”

“That fucking bitch!” He screamed, “I give her the best dick she’s ever had in her whole life, and she’s out her talking shit?!”

Velvette ran her hands over her face. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. If you want to believe that Y/N’s a lying piece of shit, have at it. Just leave me out of this.”

Valentino watched as Velvette turned away and returned to her work. The moth demon stood there for a few seconds before turning on his heel and making his way out of her department.

When had he—the Valentino—ever done any of that to his girlfriend?

The one he loved oh so very much?

Never.

•••

The elevator doors slid open.

Standing behind his desk, back turned to face the elevator, was Vox with his palms pressed against the cool glass of his pet shark’s tank. Shok.Wav was floating inside, his snout pressed to the glass as if he were begging to be closer to his father.

The smell of cherries filled Vox’s senses, causing a small electrical current between his two antennas before they quickly disappeared from sight.

Vox finally turned to find Valentino leaning against his desk, looking at him with a less than pleased look.

“Can I help you, Val?” Vox asked, using a hand to gesture to the massive tank behind him. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“You don’t look busy to me,” Valentino replied.

“Well I—.”

“Since I’m here, do you mind telling me why Y/N’s been a bitch to me recently?”

Vox blinked before dismissing Shok.Wav with a flick of his wrist. He then sat down in his chair and crossed his legs before giving his partner a blank look.

“What?”

“She’s been avoiding me. Velvette said it’s because I’ve been ‘abusive’,” he said using air quotes, “toward her. But I know that isn’t true. Okay, well, she didn’t use that word exactly, but I know that’s what she wanted to say.”

Vox stared at him for a long moment.

“And before you tell me that you don’t know, I know you do. She’s only been hanging out with you and Velvette, and every time I come around, she leaves. What? Is my dick not good enough for her or something anymore?”

“Val…I want you to think long and hard over why she may be avoiding you.”

“I have.” Valentino said, “and I don’t know why she is.”

Vox pulled up a hologram which played television static before focusing on a video—a security video of Y/N and Valentino. It was hard to pinpoint when exactly it was taken, but it clearly wasn’t being shown for proof of a date, more so for proof that something happened.

Y/N was seen standing in Valentino’s bedroom with a bottle lying on the floor with some pearlescent pink liquid pooling out of it. Her shark tail was wrapped around her leg as she nervously fidgeted.

“Do you have any idea what that was worth?!” Valentino screamed as he stood just in front of her.

“I-I said I was—.”

“It’s always ‘sorry’ with you, isn’t it?” He interrupted, “you’re always breaking shit and then apologizing for it. Fuck, Y/N, this perfume isn’t even being made anymore!”

“I-I can f-find you a similar one—.”

“I don’t want a similar one!”

The rest of the feed continued to show the two of them in the bedroom, with Y/N getting progressively more upset as Valentino screamed at her.

After Vox paused the video and he looked at Valentino.

“She’s just sensitive,” Valentino said.

“Yes, at times she can be.” Vox agreed, “but this was completely unnecessary behavior, Val.”

“But it’s okay if you yell at her when she breaks your stuff?”

“We’re not talking about me,” Vox said as he pulled up another security video.

The next feed had Y/N and Valentino at one of his many clubs. She was off somewhere—god knows where—and eventually, she came into frame with a girl by her side. They were both clearly intoxicated and the lipstick marks left on both girls told another story.

“Val, this is Maddie!” Y/N drunkenly said, “she fell into Hell recently and—.”

“Amor, what did we say about kissing other people who I don’t approve of?” Valentino hummed, his tone light and airy but there was underlying heat to it.

“That I can only kiss pretty people. B-But I think she’s—.”

“Ugly? Yeah. She is.” Valentino nodded as he reached for her wrist. “Besides, you’re happily taken by me! Why do you need this ugly whore?”

Y/N stumbled forward and into Valentino’s lap.

“Val, she isn’t—.”

He then roughly kissed her to shut her up as Vox stopped the video and looked at Valentino again.

“What’s wrong with this one?” He asked. “She was ugly. Do you really think I’m gonna let our girl be seen with some ugly fuck? Ugh. Of course not.”

“We all agreed that our relationship would be open.” Vox admits, “if she wants to kiss someone, she’s allowed to do it. This seems…controlling.”

“But you’re not?”

“Again, we are not—.”

“You know what?” Valentino huffed as he stood up, “I’ll go ask her myself what her deal is.”

“I know what her deal is.”

Valentino tilted his head, his eyes narrowing behind his shades. “Then why aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t have to tell you, Val.” Vox reminded. “Not everything is your business.”

Valentino turned and made his way toward the elevator to leave.

“Says the guy who knows everything about everyone.”

And like that, Valentino left and he had decided that tomorrow, he was going to get to the bottom of this.

•••

V Tower felt like a cage as of late, which meant Y/N was some bird who couldn’t quite get free no matter what she did.

Recently, she had been avoiding Valentino like he had the plague. Strolling around the halls of the tower felt like a nightmare. Where she used to skip down these halls and happily hum to herself while employees from all three departments tried to avoid her, she now felt like the one who was trying to avoid other people.

Y/N kept her head down and her tail wrapped tight around her leg as she walked down these familiar halls. In her hand was a shopping bag full of accessories that Velvette had asked for earlier that day, and so, she was just bringing them to her.

Simple as that.

Y/N approached the end of the hallway and clicked the elevator button. She nervously bounced on her heels, looking down both hallways for a certain pimp. So far, she hadn’t seen him, but it seemed like her luck had run out when the doors to the elevator opened.

“Y/N~. I’ve been looking everywhere for you, amor~.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes wide with fear as she took in Valentino’s towering appearance in the elevator. She tried to take a step back and make a run for it, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside.

Her back slammed against the back wall as she tried to slip out of his grasp and reach for the elevator doors…but they shut.

“Y/N, I have a small question to ask you~,” Valentino purred as he tilted his head. “Have you been avoiding me recently?”

Y/N’s eyes flickered from the shut elevator doors and then up to Valentino. “N-No.”

“Hm.” He hummed as his smile widened, “really? Because I think that’s bullshit.”

“It isn’t—.”

“You see, Vox and Velvette told me that you’ve been telling them shit behind my back,” he said. “You know I don’t take kindly to gossip about me.”

“I didn’t t-tell them—.”

“Sweetheart, stop making this harder than it needs to be.” He innocently interrupted. “I just need you to be honest with me.”

Valentino’s grip on her wrist tightened. It wasn’t enough to bruise—of course not, it took a lot for her too—but enough that she could register the pain.

“Tell me, tiburón, why have I barely seen my pretty girl all week?”

“I-I’ve been…busy.”

“Busy?” He laughed. “Busy avoiding me?”

Y/N shook her head quickly. “N-No, of course not!”

Valentino then dramatically sighed and shook his head. “You know what really pisses me off about all of this? It’s that I’ve been nothing but good to you.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted into a tight knot as she stared up at him. She prayed to whatever Gods were above in Heaven that this whole interaction would come to end, but she knew that her prayers were futile.

“I let you hang around my studio and clubs. I let you fuck me whenever you want. I let you drink all my god damn alcohol—I practically spoil you rotten.” He said, his voice lowering into something dangerous, “so why am I suddenly the bad guy?”

“I-I never said that you were—.”

“But Vox and Velvette seem to think that you have a lot to say.”

“V-Val, I swear that I-I didn’t tell them anything,” Y/N stuttered out.

He leaned closer, the smell of his cologne and the faint smell of cherries mixed together to create something intoxicatingly dangerous.

“Then tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

The elevator suddenly felt smaller than it had before and the lights seemed brighter than they had been too. Were the walls closing in?

Y/N tried to form a sentence, or at least a word to help her out of this situation. She kept trying to steady her heart and will herself to say something, literally anything, but her mind was a blur of static.

She couldn’t come up with some excuse, not that an excuse to leave would help her out any.

Actually, why was she in the elevator to begin with? She couldn’t quite remember at the moment. All she could think about was the ten foot Overlord towering over her.

Was this how his employees felt?

The shopping bag slipped from her fingers and collided with the floor. The accessories that Velvette had asked for spilled out, decorating the elevator—oh right, Velvette…she had asked for some stuff and she was going to deliver it to her.

“I’m s-s-sorry Val, but I need to—.”

“No.” He sternly said, “we’re talking. Don’t you know that it’s rude to leave a conversation?”

Y/N swallowed as she muttered out a shaky apology, but that only seemed to make Valentino that more upset.

“That’s all you ever say, isn’t it? It’s always ‘sorry’ with you.”

Suddenly, Valentino’s voice became a blur. She knew he was talking to her, although he was probably just insulting her now, but she couldn’t hear him. It was like she was submerged underwater.

Her breathing had become shallow somewhere in between and she used her free hand to claw at the front of her shirt, as though loosening the fabric would somehow allow her to get more oxygen in.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Y/N gasped for air as she tried to communicate that she couldn’t breathe, but she couldn’t. And somehow her gasps for air made Valentino frown as he continued to insult her.

“Oh, don’t start crying now. I haven’t even done anything to make you cry yet.”

But Y/N wasn’t crying, at least not yet.

Her body began to tremble as her knees dared to buckle under her. She desperately tried to focus on something—the number of elevator buttons, the non moving elevator floor number that was permanently stuck at ‘2’, or even just her reflection in the glass window.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, puta.”

Y/N stared at her shaky reflection in the mirror, her eyes flickering over to the reflection that stood in front of her own in red.

She couldn’t bare to look at Valentino.

Her name echoed in her head as Valentino called out to her, but she barely registered it.

A warmth landed on her shoulder.

Valentino’s hand.

Y/N whipped her head around to look at her shoulder. She saw his hand resting on her, but instead of registering it as belonging to her partner, all she saw was a threat.

Before she could rationally think about it, she lunged at him and sunk her teeth into his forearm.

Quickly, Valentino jerked away and stumbled backwards, instinctively ripping his arm away from her mouth.

“¡Aye!” He yelped. “What the fuck?!”

Y/N bolted for the elevator doors, pressing one of the buttons as the doors slipped open. She had abandoned the bag of accessories Velvette had asked for, leaving them behind with Valentino as she ran down the many halls of V Tower.

She couldn’t do this.

Not right now.

She couldn’t breathe.

Coming across an empty hallway, she slowed her pace when she realized she was surrounded by Shok.Wav’s tank. A tank which Vox had designed to travel around V Tower so that Shok.Wav could move freely…a tank system in which she was fixing to take advantage—.

“Motherfucker!” Valentino screamed as he slammed her against the tank. “You whore!”

“Let me go!” Y/N yelled as she tried to wiggle out of Valentino’s hold, but this time, he had used all four of his hands to pin her down.

“Do you really think I’m gonna let you go?” He snapped. “After you just bit the shit out of me?”

“Val—!” Y/N cried out.

“All you have to do is be a good girl and listen.” Valentino explained. “Simple as that and I’ll let you go.”

Tears finally filled up in Y/N’s eyes, and with one blink, the tears streamed down her face like a waterfall.

“Are you gonna tell me or not?” He asked. “I don’t have all fucking day.”

“Th-The other night,” she slowly confessed, “when we were…we were at your place and…and we…”

Y/N swallowed, trying her best to get the words out, but it proved to be much harder when your brain was trapped in that memory…in that moment.

“We were drinking and you…you asked me for…for sex and I-I didn’t want it but…but you kept touching me and—.”

“What?” Valentino interrupted, “did you think I wasn’t going to stop?” He asked, “that I was going to rape you?”

Y/N frowned, her bottom lip quivering as she replayed the memory in her head.

She remembered being drunk…really drunk and cuddling beside Valentino on his couch while watching some shitty tv show. Kitty strolled over with drink refills every time a glass emptied before she wandered off again.

Y/N remembered Valentino flirting with her like he always did. She remembered him putting his hand on her thigh like he always did.

Then she remembered his hand moving inward as he continued to flirt with her. She remembered pushing his hand off, drunkenly expressing that she wasn’t in the mood for anything…but his hand crept back to her thigh and he nudged her thighs apart.

That was all she remembered.

She woke up the next morning in Valentino’s bed.

She assumed that he hadn’t done anything to her. She assumed that she had passed out on the couch and he had been nice enough to bring her to bed…but this wasn’t Vox. Vox wasn’t the type to take advantage of her while she unconscious, no matter how fucked in the head he was.

Valentino was…and that sliver of doubt had been enough to make her avoid him.

Valentino stared at her for a long moment before laughing. “Tiburón, this is what you’ve been hiding from me?” His expression then shifted to something almost pitiful. “You really think I would force you to?” He laughed again, “why would I force you to when I could just take it?”

His words did nothing to help the pit in Y/N’s stomach.

“But I didn’t because you said no.”

“But I…I don’t remember anything after that, Val.”

“You were hella drunk, tiburón.” Valentino smiled, “of course you don’t remember. But I do. You passed out on me and I took you to bed, that’s all.”

Y/N sniffled. “That’s…all?”

“Mhm.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t.

She didn’t know why though. Maybe it was because she knew Valentino’s true nature underneath all the charm.

But…she nodded along.

It was best to believe him.

And while the two made up and Valentino reassured her, he was the only one knew the truth.

And that truth was exactly what Y/N had feared.

Synopsis: Y/N has been one of Vox's assistance for a while now. During this time, they’re become a total hopeless romantic toward him. And after he compliments their work, it must mean he reciprocates, right?

TW: Y/N is delusional, slightly suggestive content

A/N: Hoping to get back into oneshot writing! I haven't been too inspired as of late.

Masterlist

Everyone said that working for one of the Vee's—regardless of which one—would ultimately be the worst decision of your life.

However, for a sinner named Y/N, it had proven to be both the worst decision and yet somehow the best decision they had ever made.

It was the best because Voxtek Entertainment was the most technological advanced company in Hell. The pay was...alright, the benefits were...well, there weren't any, but at least the coffee in the breakroom was good.

The worst part of it was that Y/N had accidentally, catastrophically and irreversibly fallen in love with their boss, Vox.

The crush hadn't started intentionally. It started rather innocently with Y/N finding themselves in Hell rather unexpectedly. Being a corporate slave to a simple 9-5 in their human life, they found that being in Hell wasn't much different. This meant that if you wanted to survive, you had to make a living.

The first thing Y/N admired about Vox was his confidence.

He carried himself with an effortless authority that commanded every room he entered. Employees straightened when he was nearby. Daily conversations between coworkers seemed to revolve around him.

Plus, watching him run Voxtek was impressive.

He always seemed to know exactly what to do. Like if a server went down, it would be fixed within the hour. If an investor threatened to pull funding, he'd have them signing a better contract by the end of the meeting.

Next, they had fallen for his intelligence.

Y/N had lost count how many meetings they had sat through where executives twice their age walked in believing they knew better, only for Vox to dismantle every argument with a smug efficiency that left them speechless.

Then, they found themselves getting turned on by his stupidly hot, stupidly attractive voice.

Somewhere along the way, admiration turned into a crush and Y/N found themselves wanting to be more than just his secondary assistant.

That realization had been...less than ideal.

At first, Y/N convinced themself that it was only a temporary office crush.

Everyone had one at some point and if they gave it some time, it was sure to go away.

Except it didn't.

So, when Vox complimented their work with a simple "good job," it felt like they had won the lottery.

It was pathetic.

They knew it was pathetic.

And they had accepted that it was pathetic.

But at least they had Ethan to snap them back into reality.

"I'll need those reports done by noon." Vox said, his eyes flickering from Ethan to Y/N. "And good work on those investor files."

"Thank you, sir," Y/N had calmly replied. But once Vox had walked away from their desks, all cards were off the table.

"Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"All he said was 'good work on those investor files.'"

"He noticed."

"He just approved a document."

"He specifically complimented me."

"He acknowledged that you successfully performed the job he is paying you to do."

"He remembered that he gave it to me."

Ethan sighed. "If our boss told the printer it did a 'good job,' would you think he was in love with it?"

Y/N shook their head. "That's totally different because a printer can't handle his emotional vulnerability."

"There was none."

"He was yearning."

"You're delusional."

"You never support my dreams."

"That it because your dreams lack common sense."

But before Y/N could reply, Ethan beat them to it.

"And don't even start with another fantasy of yours. Our boss would never have a work place relationship with anyone other than Valentino."

"That just means I have to be better than Valentino!"

Ethan took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Please just have a normal work crush...for once."

But Y/N wasn't exactly normal, were they?

How could they be when the hottest man in Hell was literally their boss?

Later that afternoon, Vox had called Y/N up to his office. It was a bit odd considering most of the staff at Voxtek had already begun retiring for the day as shift change was currently happening.

The ride up to Vox's office was nerve wracking.

Y/N wasn't nervous because they were at risk of being fired or fed to his pet shark. No, they were nervous because their crush (their boss) had asked to speak with them privately.

Fixing their hair in the elevator doors reflection, it finally opened to reveal the minimalistic office that belonged to their boss.

"You wanted to speak to me, sir?" Y/N asked, walking over and stepping in front of his desk.

The desk that they wanted him to bend them over on and—.

"I need you to handle something."

He's nervous!

"I know this is a bit personal."

Personal?!

"And I've been thinking about this for a while now."

Could this finally be it?!

Had the good Lord in Heaven heard their prayers all the way from in Hell?!

Was their sexy ass boss about to declare his undying love, bend them over and—?!

"So, I need you to head over to Valentino's studio."

Y/N blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"He killed a few of his employees," Vox explained, pulling up a holographic feed out of thin air. "I need someone to supervise the cleanup crew. I'd send Eelthan down there, but he's busy with financial reports."

"Oh."

Dismissing the holographic screen, Vox leaned back in his chair.

"Be a doll and take care of that for me, yeah?"