#vox writes

[a-still-small-vox]

When Mollymauk died, he suddenly understood a lot of things. Like first of all, the reason he had amnesia his whole life was probably because this kinda sorta wasn’t his body. Yup. Definitely stole it. And also, when he’d told everyone that he prayed over his swords every morning because his family taught him to, that weirdly kinda hadn’t been a lie? Because in fact, the Moonweaver was his parent. And now he had returned to her court, she didn't want him to go back to Exandria to continue his adventures with his friends. But if there was one thing Molly wanted more than anything else, it was to see the Mighty Nein again. Especially Caleb...

I haven't gotten all of the Widomauk fix-its out of my system yet, so have this Orpheus & Eurydice inspired story.

[READ HERE ON AO3]

[voxiferous]

Thank you to @mathclasswarfare for tagging me!

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

“Good evening, Madame,” Caleb said, inclining his head politely to a woman in a feathered blue mask as she took two mini quiches from his tray of hors d’oeuvres. (Masquerade Heist / Critical Role)

“I hate this place,” Prompto said, his voice muffled in Noctis’s shirt front. (Window of the Soul / FFXV)

“Take the ship around to the cove. If I don’t come back in three days, assume I either drowned or I decided to stay here for a while,” Shion said, neatly folding his last shirt and tucking it on top of his pack, then closing the bag. (The Siren / No. 6)

“Ooh, and the walk-in closet is big enough to turn into a dark room if you want to. Dave, you could work on your vampire portrait portfolio at home!” Jade said, squeezing the steering wheel a little too hard with her colourfully-banded fingers. (Welcome to the Polycule / Homestuck)

Once-mighty tanks were stacked up in the streets of Omashu like so much rubbish, and children played there once more. (Four Slices / A:tLA)

“We need a miracle,” Ignis muttered. (See Through / FFXV)

Muffled explosions and loud cheering filled the air. (grab your things, I've come to take you home / Critical Role)

When Mollymauk died, he suddenly understood a lot of things. (The Moonweaver's Child / Critical Role)

Caleb shivered himself awake as the warmth of Nott’s small body suddenly left his arms. (RE-ROLL / Critical Role)

Caleb knows he’s smart, but he would need a major in psychology with double minors in tiefling and carnie to figure out why Mollymauk pays him as much attention as he does. (Why Do You Like Me? / Critical Role)

Woof, I am almost a one-trick pony, and I didn't expect that XD The Vox opening line formula is apparently:

["Dialogue hook", establishing information.]

To be fair, though, three of the first four fics were all written within the span of a month. I probably was out of ideas at the time.

I've always felt that my last lines are a lot better than my first lines. I am confident in my ability to close something well. Never felt particularly good at opening.

I don't know anyone writing a lot of fic at the moment (except Rev, but yours are secret...), but if you want to do this go ahead and tag me! :)

[eatmyson]

this one's inspired by @cringefailvox's time has changed the metaphor!

It was such a good read and I couldn't stop thinking about these three ever since.

[hypnoticmoth]

Do you ever want to badly write a fic but you’re too self conscious about your writing so it stays a forever idea ?? Hahaha…

Anyway, i’ve had thought about Vox’s obsession with Alastor bringing the ruin of the Vees…. Many many ideas, and what happens and …. Augh

[voxiferous]

Image description, in poem form but accurate to the image:

A goat with its strange yellow eyes its four beige horns and four beige hooves its pink knees like bright patches and its black fur, wild, belying the many colours within speaks as it runs, and says, "YES, THE GRIEF IS NEVER-ENDING BUT SO IS THE WARMTH OF BREATH AND SO ARE THE STRANGE WAYS LOVE WILL FIND YOU AGAIN, AGAIN, AGAIN..."

follow my work on instagram / merch

[diabeticgirl4]

it's such a quick subtle moment, but I really appreciated the teamwork of grog having percy land on him in their fall (+supporting him w his fist!) so he wouldn't have to slow down in his chase for ripley

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

I agree, Vox. Seeing your enemy suffer is better than sex.

[dearaceofhearts]

you walk out after an argument

characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is

♡ husk

when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.

in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.

but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.

his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.

husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.

when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."

husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.

"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.

you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."

♡ alastor

"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.

when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"

he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.

alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.

so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?

he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.

...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.

one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.

"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.

upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.

"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.

"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.

♡ angel dust

his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.

despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.

while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.

he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.

one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.

but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?

after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.

he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.

he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"

the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.

it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.

♡ vox

he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.

(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).

(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).

his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.

he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.

and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.

all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.

"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.

his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.

meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."

vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"

"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.

it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.

"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.

"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.

suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.

♡ lucifer

he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.

all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—

he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.

most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.

thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.

"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."

you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."

his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.

after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.

© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!

[ohproserpine]

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

[diurnalvl]

vees headcanon: when velvette is bored, she likes to read out thirst veets on vitter to see vox's reaction.

she would bother val, but he doomscrolls his thirst veets mornings and nights, so it isn't nearly as fun as vox's immediate shocking shock at the sheer gall of some of these sinners.

once vox stops glitching, he's usually gathered enough wits to immediately approve more merch.

they made vees body pillows once. he never wants to see one in real life.

[allastoredeer]

Vox Drawing Guides!

I think I'm going to do one more expression page for him because, despite having the simplest shaped head, I have such a hard time drawing him T.T

Link to Masterpost with my other drawing guides

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ " i'll never smile again "

The hazbin boys are visibly stressed

Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.

Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer

▢ vox ᯤ

- Offering sexual favours -

Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.

He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.

Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.

Whoopee fucking doo.

"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."

"Here, sir."

"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.

"You're a little creep, y'know that?"

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"

She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."

His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"

"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.

Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.

"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.

A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"

He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"

His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."

"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"

He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."

She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.

Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

▢ alastor ⍋

- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -

A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.

There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.

"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.

(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.

"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.

He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.

"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.

"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."

"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.

"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."

"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."

She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"

He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.

"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"

"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"

She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.

Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.

Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."

(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"

"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."

She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."

Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "

Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -

"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"

(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.

He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.

And make his cute rubber duckies.

But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.

She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.

So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.

He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."

She smiled," Hey."

"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"

"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."

He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"

"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.

"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."

(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."

He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.

"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"

"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."

"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."

"Don't I know it~!"

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Petname Headcanons

Headcanons for what terms of endearment Vox, Alastor, and Lucifer use in their relationships. I was going to do more characters, but this post got too long (AGAIN), so I just did my favs. If enough people want it, I can do a part 2? Maybe? MAYHAPS?

Valentino DLC post now available >>HERE<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; talks about what yall like to be called during sex; Daddy/Mommy kinks; Valentino mention; Lucifer really needs therapy you guys (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

(NOTE: Huge credit to @bindeds for the whole 'Vox does sappy petnames' headcanon. You should read their post with it >here<. Its lived rent free in my head since I read it.)

Honestly? Vox is a menace when it comes to terms of endearment.

Vox loves to get creative and call you super sappy stuff. Things like sugar bear, honey kisses, love dove, cuddle cake.... I pray you can at least tolerate this because I have no doubt that Vox has sent past partners running for the hills by doing this.

These silly names tend to come in waves. Vox will have one that he likes to call you, use it for a short bit, then switch it up for a different one. So if there is one you particularly don't like, at least you never have to deal with it for more then a few days.

Vox doesn't like to talk about you in front of the cameras (he has a deep fear that your going to end up stolen). But when he does, he avoids using your actual name. Instead Vox calls you more... conventionally sappy petnames. Like dearest, or starlight.

Not embarrassed at all about calling you these things in front of millions of viewers. He loves you so much and feels so lucky to have you. In a perfect world and if this wasn't, you know, Hell, Vox would just openly brag about you on air 24/7.

While Vox always seems to have something new to call you, the one name that sticks around and actually gets used consistently is sugar. A classic 50s petname. He thinks it particularly suits you because your, well, sweet as sugar. And you make everything in his life better.

What You Call Him

Vox could not care less what you call him. I don't mean that in a 'he doesn't care' way, no, its the opposite. I mean you could call him literally whatever you want and Vox will love it. He just wants to be called something special and to know he is special to you.

I'm not kidding here. Everything is on the table. Cutesy names, sappy ones, playful nicknames... Literally whatever you want as long as its not straight up demeaning or embarrassing.

Don't call him Voxy though. Yeah, its a cute name he will admit; and it sounds bittersweet coming from your lips. But that name is just far too associated with Valentino. It brings back so many painful memories and raw resentment that Vox would rather not experience in your presence. If he has to at all.

I've always pictured Vox being that guy who never wants to hear his real name come from your mouth once you two start dating. You all know the type of guy I'm talking about. Dude will have an actual breakdown.

You two could be having a serious conversation or heated argument, but as soon as you say 'Vox' nothing else matters to him. Vox just gapes at you and is like "Since when am I VOX to you?! I'M YOUR CUDDLE BEAR." Or insert whatever name you use for him. He says it completely serious too.

NSFW Section

A little ironic considering he hates hearing his actual name come from your mouth normally; but when you two are in the bedroom, Vox wants you to say nothing but his name.

Vox loves nothing more then when he fucks you stupid on his cock or overstimulates you to where his name is the only word you know. When you start moaning his name like a prayer or chanting it as your voice cracks.

There is nothing more beautiful to him then those sounds. Vox could cum from those sounds alone; and he has many times. Times when one of you was away or you two were otherwise separated.

Vox would play back the sounds of your pleading during your last time together to himself. He had been away from you for too long. He desperately needed to hear your voice, his name from your lips. Its like a drug to him.

Vox tends to lean towards gentler, more classic names in the bedroom. He whispers how much he missed you, darling. While his lips greedily take yours again and again. He will kiss down your neck, mumbling against your skin how he cant wait to make his sweetheart feel good. Gorgeous, beautiful, and handsome also frequently leave his lips once more skin starts getting exposed.

I have always headcanoned Vox as a switch. When he veers towards that more dominant, possessive side, he will start using more sexually charged names like babe or kitten. But if you two have been together a long time or you end up tying the knot.... Now Vox just babbles about how perfect his wife or his husband is as he plows into you over and over.

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Poor deer man. Quite bluntly, he has no idea what to do when he gets actual feelings for someone. I mean, yeah, he know what to do; in theory. In practice however, its a whole different story. Things are always much easier in theory then actual reality.

Perfect example of this is when you two first become an item and Alastor tries to legitimately flirt with you. Alastor lays it on just a little bit too thick and goes straight to calling you baby.

The entire hotel gets thrown for a loop. Husk chokes on his drink, Angel Dust fucking yowls, and Vaggie is cringing into the next century.

Fun fact: 'baby' first started being used as a term of endearment in the 1920s and was all the rage during that time. So Alastor probably actually used it.

Poor boomer Alastor doesn't understand what happened until he vents to Rosie about it and she laughs at him too. Rosie has to explain to Alastor that the whole 'baby' thing has taken on a much more sexual connotation during the last, you know, hundred years.

Alastor is somehow even more embarrassed about the whole faux pas upon knowing the full context then he was before.

To avoid another, ahem... incident. Alastor just straight up asks what you would like him to call you. As long as its not something too weird or sappy he will oblige.

If you tell him to call you whatever he wants, Alastor is going to be like a deer in the headlights (pun intended) due to what happened last time. Will probably just stick to your name for awhile or test things out in private first.

Alastor is partial to calling you darling, my dear, or just love. Whichever seems to make your heart flutter most.

You can always tell when Alastor is in a particularly good/playful mood because he will call you my doe (if your female) or my buck (if your male). Alastor will also use this name if he is showing you off or you've done something to make him proud of you.

What You Call Him

If you were to ask him? Alastor would tell you to simply call him by his name or just Al. Says he isnt fond of petnames even though he uses them all the time. Guy is strange.

If you do start using petnames he wont stop you. Do keep it classy however. Don't call him anything super silly, or too sexual. He now has a vendetta against the name baby so don't call him that either.

Alastor will never directly say he likes the name, but you have noticed that when you call him love or my love his smile gets a bit wider and his eyes relax a bit.

You can get away with teasing names in private. Like princess for instance. When you first called Alastor that he gave you the dirtiest look. Not in a sexual way. I mean in a 'I dare you to call me that again, brat' way.

The second time you called him princess, Alastor's ears flattened against his head and he warned you to kindly refrain from that name. However, he couldn't hide how his tail was wagging playfully.

The third time you knew exactly what you were doing as you bolted in the opposite direction right after calling him a precious princess. Alastor, wide eyed and absolutely feral, immediately dropped everything in his hands, shattering several glasses, and gave chase.

Its become a weird game between the two of you. Alastor will never admit how much he loves to see that defiant spark in your eyes.

NSFW Section

Just like any other time, Alastor simply prefers to hear his name above all else when things get steamy. Although he does have a weak spot for being called master...

Likewise, Alastor tends to call you his pet. And like any good master with their pet, Alastor's ultimate goal is your safety and comfort. That doesn't mean he wont push you to your limits or make you perform for him however. The name is more of an unspoken promise that he will never actually hurt you.

Out of all the guys, Alastor is the one you would least expect to have a thing for calling you mommy in the bedroom (regardless of your gender). This usually happens when your overstimulated and/or Alastor is deep into a servicing mode, trying to make you feel as good as possible, and pulling as many orgasms from you as he physically can.

It also happens during his ruts. Alastor will vacillate between calling you mommy or his mate. He will growl into your neck how good of a mate you are as he fucks into you. How you are all his. Then after Alastor fills you to the brim with cum he will tell you how he, 'Cant wait for Mommy to have my fawns. Lets see how much more Mommy can take, hm?'

The whole mommy kink is a secret he will take with him to oblivion however. Alastor will make sure anyone who knows of it does too.

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Sorry; but I'm on the bandwagon that Lucifer uses duck based petnames for his partner. Duck or ducky are his go to names. Period. Especially when he is excited about something or gushing over how cute you are.

Lucifer genuinely thinks your as cute as a duck. Coming from him, thats quite a compliment. If you let him, Lucifer will 100% do the cutesy baby-talk voice at you when you do something particularly endearing and his cuteness meter is overloading.

When Lucifer is in front of people and trying to act normal (as in, masking hardcore), he will instead address you by a rather curt darling or my dear.

Although it may come across like Lucifer is distancing himself from you, he isn't actively trying to be less affectionate to you at all. Crowds/people in general are just super stressful for the guy and he is trying his absolute best to look like he has his shit together.

Once he relaxes a bit, you get some liquid courage in him, or if you two are with some friends, Lucifer moves to more intimate names.

When you go to sit, Lucifer will beckon you to come closer, doll, until your practically sitting on his lap. Then he will look at you with the most adoring eyes as he asks how are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart? He really does love you more then you can imagine.

What You Call Him

Lucifer tends to like the sweetest, sappiest terms of endearment. The ones that make your chest fill with butterflies and anyone within earshot nauseous. God bless the hotel for dealing with your shit because you two are actual diabetes.

Call him teddy bear, cuddle bug, or snuggs because of how physically affectionate he is. Also just because of how wonderful Lucifer's cuddles are and how you both could spend the rest of eternity in each other's arms.

Other good options are muffin, honey bun, or cupcake. Why the food names? Because Lucifer LOVES to cook for you of course! Its not just the pancakes either, this guy actually does know how to cook. One of his favorite things is to surprise you with a night in and a completely home made three course meal. (But thats for another post!)

If you want to compete with Lucifer's whole duck thing and give him a matching bird petname, you can call him lovebird. Lucifer might return the favor and start calling you his lovebird too. Because its exactly what you are. You both really are just a pair of lovebirds.

If you don't like ANY of those, buttercup or sweetpea are also good options. Two cute flower names that tie nicely into Lucifer's whole 'garden of Eden' thing.

You could also straight up call him cutie. Its a vicious cycle with this one. Because whenever you call him that, Lucifer gets the happiest, most adorable smile on his face. So you end up wanting to call him it more...

You got lots of great options with him. But if you want something more """serious"""; sweetie, sweetheart, honey, or shortening his name to Luci will still make his heart flutter without getting too crazy.

Another fun thing you can do, is call him my King or my Liege before kissing the back of his hand. Lucifer cant help but get flustered and start giggling like an idiot.

NSFW Section

Do I even need to say it? Do I even need to say what two words turn this man into an actual puddle on the spot?

Like seriously. Those words hold so much power that you have to be super careful with how you wield it. Lucifer could be so distracted, excitedly telling you about a new project he is working on. Then you just mutter how much of a good boy he is and every muscle in Lucifer's body instantly tenses. You giggle as you see a surprised shudder run up his spine. His cock already standing at full attention.

Lucifer has a weakness for the name pretty boy as well. Caress his soft skin, leaving a trail of hot kisses, before whispering how much of a pretty boy he is; and Lucifer will reward you with the most sinful moans.

Be careful with him though; Lucifer may be the sin of pride, king of hell, and the fucking devil, but the man wears his heart on his sleeve and can easily be hurt by your words if your not careful.

Don't degrade him. This actually really hurts him and can easily send Lucifer spiraling. Before punishments, tell him he has been a bad boy, a naughty boy. Tell him he has to make up for it and prove how good he really is.

Praise on both of your ends. Lucifer constantly tells you how beautiful, gorgeous, and/or handsome you are. When you return the praise, the devil melts.

Lucifer will call you angel or my angel, because to him, your beauty rivals all of heaven itself. You also came into his life and saved him as if you were an angel sent just for him. He knows that would never happen of course; but he likes to dream.

Has a lowkey daddy kink as well but is ashamed of it since he is an actual dad. But you can easily get him riled up by playing into it and calling yourself baby or mommy. Ooohh boy will this devil then be ready to actually make you a mommy~

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AN: If you want a part 2, please say what characters you want. I started an Adam one, and I wanted to do an Angel Dust one. But Im open to whatever?

[6esiree]

They Find Out Your Nipples Are Pierced After Going Braless

Imagine you’re in a new relationship with Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, and Adam, and they find out that your nipples are pierced when you decide to go braless? This is NSFW, but no smut <3

Alastor:

Actual ear piercings were uncommon in Alastor’s time, the memory of Mimzy readjusting her clip-on earrings after a rather intense performance at the club still fresh in his mind; even then, it usually took a lot more than body modifications to pique the overlord’s interest. Usually.

“May I?” Alastor asked as you stood in the kitchen, alone, a clawed-hand hovering right above the hem of your shirt. “Okay, just…” You nervously started, “…be careful, alright?”

He’d been in Hell for almost a century, having passed by plenty of sinners donned in all sorts of interesting fashions, for lack of a better word, without sparing them a second glance. But he found himself unable to do that when you, his darling, came downstairs without a bra on.

“Is it because of this?” Alastor asked you, his thumb grazing a hardened bud before landing on one of the beads of your barbell piercing. “And what, pray tell, is this supposed to be, darling?”

You braced yourself on the kitchen countertop, your knuckles turning white as his other clawed-hand lifted up your shirt and exposed your bare chest to his curious gaze. It was all too much for you, having the man you’d only fleetingly kissed pushing and prodding at your pierced nipples.

“They’re simply cosmetic,” You managed to say, your face flushed in what he assumed was embarrassment. “Did it hurt?” He hummed, and you would have answered if he hadn’t tugged.

A moan involuntarily slipped from your throat, making Alastor still in his ministrations. The moment his ears fell back against his head, however, you pulled down your shirt and darted out of the kitchen, leaving him to figure out the foreign feeling stirring in his stomach, alone.

Lucifer:

As the King of Hell, Lucifer was no stranger to body modifications, especially piercings. He didn’t have any, but he had encountered many sinners throughout the centuries with jewelry decorating their ears, their nose, their lips, and anywhere else they could stick a needle through their flesh.

“Oh, hey there, honey! You’re looking a little bit cold, why don’t I…” Lucifer started, the confidence in his voice waning as he stared at your chest, “…lend you my coat?”

Nipple piercings were no exception—but something about finding out that you, the first sinner he decided to open up to after an eternity of being with the same person, had his knees buckling and his already rosy cheeks flushing in what you could only assume was embarrassment.

“Yeah, uhh, sure!” You nervously chuckled, the way you tugged at the hem of your shirt making him snap out of his little trance. “I’d appreciate that very much, thank you.”

Your relationship was still new, the hugs and kisses you’ve exchanged thus far fleetingly innocent. But as he shrugged off his coat, Lucifer couldn’t help but imagine your first time together, and how he’d pull up your shirt with the intention of exploring your pierced nipples with his tongue.

“Here ya go, honey!” Lucifer quickly said, shoving his coat in your arms before you could notice the tent in his pants, shuffling towards the staircase. “Wait, where are you going?” You asked.

The bathroom, he said, but there was one right down the hallway to your left. He was gone by the time you could point that out, however, your ears catching the distant sound of a door slamming shut as you stood there in the parlor with a general idea of what he actually left to do.

Husk:

Oh, Husk knew plenty of sinners with all sorts of body modifications—piercings, tattoos, you name it—even in the most uncommon of places. So, something like having pierced nipples was less of a shock and more of a welcome surprise to the old bartender with a sleazy past.

“Ya lookin’ a bit cold there, dollface,” Husk chuckled to himself, his eyes teasingly darting between your flushed face and your hardened nipples, but only for a moment. “Need a drink?”

While you’d only been together for a few months, Husk took the time to get to know you as a friend beforehand, so the two of you were rather comfortable with each other. And that was evident in the way you flipped him off before eventually succumbing to a bout of laughter.

“Yes, please! I need something to warm me up since you’ve got nothing else to offer me,” You leaned on the counter, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

With a huff, Husk handed you something that always soothed him on a chilly day, a good old fashioned cocktail. Bourbon whiskey, a dash of sugar and bitters, and an orange peel—everything you did not like, cursing him out before placing a teasing kiss over his cold nose.

“Thank you for making me something I absolutely despise…” You hummed, and he would have let you get away with your attitude if you hadn’t used that dreaded name, “…Husker.”

Husk leaned over the counter and tugged at your nipple through your shirt, a wicked smile overtaking his features as a surprised yelp seeped past your lips. You glared at him, but it was hard to maintain your composure as his thumb teasingly flicked your hardened bud. The bastard.

Vox:

Piercings, notably nipple piercings, started to gain popularity around the time Vox died; so, he never really thought much about them until he manifested in Hell and saw how many sinners modified their bodies. You were one of them, but he only found out when you decided to go braless.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” You murmured as you laid back on the couch, your legs draped over his lap. “Even with my eyes closed, I know that you’re staring—I can feel it, actually.”

An amused chuckle reverberated through Vox’s chest at your words, a clawed-hand affectionately wandering up your leg, gradually ascending on the hem of your shirt. While you sounded annoyed, the pleased sigh that seeped past your lips at his ministrations said otherwise.

“Why take a picture when I can have a look for myself?” Vox hummed, the fine hairs on your belly rising as his claws slowly traveled underneath your shirt. “That’s if my sweetheart is okay with it, of course,” He added, stopping at your navel.

Your eyes fluttered open, your hand coming up to tap at your chin in mock-contemplation. Vox rolled his eyes before resuming his ministrations, any fake protests you had dying on your tongue as his clawed-hand found your breast, giving it a tentative squeeze before touching your nipple.

“Careful! They’re a bit sensitive,” You huffed as he gently rolled your hardened bud between his thumb and his forefinger, tapping one of the beads of your barbell piercing next.

Sensitive, indeed, Vox thought as he felt your legs shift on his lap. He glanced down to see you subtly clenching your thighs together, clearly affected by his curious prodding and pushing. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to have your first time after months of being together.

Adam:

The only reason why you hadn’t had sex with Adam was because you wanted to take things slow—and he managed to keep his hands to himself, until you decided to go braless the first night you stayed over at his place, your breasts clinging to the thin cotton material of your shirt.

“Adam? Hellooo? What movie do you want to watch?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of his little trance. “Oh! Shit, uhh, anything you wanna watch, babe.”

You arched a curious brow at him before eventually turning away to search for a movie. He tried to keep his eyes trained on the screen, but it was hard to do so when your nipples peeked through your shirt, the unmistakable shape of your barbell piercing making him stir.

“You can touch them if you want to,” You mumbled, and because he was too tempted by the sight, he instantly took you up on your offer. “Fuck yeah—thanks, babe, you’re the best!”

Adam had had plenty of partners in the past with body modifications such as tattoos and piercings of all kinds, but nipple piercings? Only a few, and that was evident in the way he lifted up your shirt and marveled at your breasts before dipping his head and capturing a nipple in his mouth.

“Hey! I said touch, not taste you—ah—dumbass!” You huffed as his tongue flicked at your nipple, his other hand fondling your neglected breast, toying with the beads. “Mm’sorry, I got…confused.”

So much for waiting, but you supposed that two months of being together with only hugs and innocent kisses was good enough for you, especially as he pushed you down on the couch, the living room filled with the sound of his eager suckles and your breathy moans.

Taglist:

@cosmiiwrites @pumppkinlynn @gxstiess @polyo-nym-y @vvzhyxx @shinynewboots @freakyfrye @leonotlara @angelicribbons @mutifandomkid @megumibbg

Notes:

• I do not have nipple piercings but I did a little bit of research on them + on when they became popular to help me with each character’s reactions! I did not decide to make you, the reader, get them recently done because apparently they can take up to a year to heal ❤️‍🩹

[short-wooloo]

Vox: ALASTORYOUPIECEOFSHITIFUCKINGHATEYOUNOTICEMEGODDAMIT!!!

Alastor: not now Vox, Lucifer dissed me so now I've got to go be a better father to his daughter

[flangore]

❥ she loves me like a dog

feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader

summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion

Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.

There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.

And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.

Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.

Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.

“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”

Your throat felt tight.

“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”

The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.

“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”

There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.

Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”

“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”

Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.

“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”

“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”

You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”

“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”

“Already on it, babe.”

With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.

In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.

A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”

“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.

Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”

You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.

Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.

“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”

Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.

Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.

Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.

“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”

At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.

You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.

You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.

At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.

Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.

“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”