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seancekitsch · 2 days

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Can we have more Vox and Assistant! Reader? Maybe based on the headcanon you had involving Val?

i think im gonna make this a little series hehehe

warnings: rough smut, dom vox, aphrodisiacs, val getting cucked, sort of unethical power dynamics, bondage, etc

“More toys for us, Big Vee?” you ask, scooting further back from the edge of Vox’s bed as you make room for the box Val sets down, tucking your legs under you as you do.

Vox scowls in your direction as he slides his suspenders down his shoulders.

“Don’t call him that,” he tells you, only to be met by your smirk. Despite his clear annoyance, Vox still takes the time to scan his eyes up and down your body, already delightfully wrapped in blue and red lingerie he had Velvette design just for you. You meet his gaze in a challenge.

“Why not? He’s taller than you. Big Vee.”

You know you’re playing with fire here, between your teasing and the absolutely shit eating grin you can see on Valentino’s face from the corner of your vision. Valentino laughs as Vox’s screen twitches in anger. This is all part of your game, though. Push Vox too hard and… well, he’s gonna go ballistic on you. Your grin only grows as your boss seethes next to the box and his business partner.

“Careful, Princesa,” the taller Vee warns, picking through the box before he pulls out a set of what look like handcuffs on a leash and a bottle with no label, “Daddy doesn’t like brats.”

Vox snatches the handcuffs from Valentino, his free hand held out and waiting. Without protest, you offer both of your wrists to him while you smile up at him sweetly. He’s right, Vox doesn’t like brats; which is why you’re usually not this bold, but Vox worked you hard today and you like to play with him.

Vox works diligently in fastening the restraints around your wrists, careful not to have them too tight around you. He’s learned the hard way, with one of your first trysts ending with him rubbing cream into your torn up wrists in the bathroom through begging apologies. Vox likes his toys, Vox keeps extremely good care of them. H gives a testing tug, his eyes flickering to you for confirmation. It’s moments like this where you see a glimmer of hope in Vox, like maybe he has a heart, maybe he’s a good man. You let out a breathy laugh as you nod your confirmation to him. They’re just right, and you remind yourself that both you and he are in Hell for very serious reasons. You don’t get where you are currently without a reason.

“Okay, baby?” he whispers, too sweetly. Your smile widens, knowing that this is a ruse. He’s going to fucking wreck you, you just need to let him pretend he isn’t.

Roughly, Vox pushes you over by the shoulder, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the duvet. He throws the other end of the restraints at Valentino, now sat in the chair pulled up to the end of the bed.

“Yank on it if it looks like she’s having too much fun, yeah?” Vox instructs, a cool professional tone crackling in the static of his voice. Now that the restraint is more taut, it resembles a Y-shape, with one set of Val’s hands curling around the far loop. It would work well for being hung from the ceiling, or wrapped up around the bedpost. Vox could have you pinned to the wall in his office with this, bound and waiting for him, ready to be used and -

You’re literally pulled out of your thoughts by Val testing the waters, not enough to knock you off of your hands, but enough to make you wobble. Val’s grin turns hungry, vicious even.

You turn your head quickly from Val’s gaze, something clinical and nerve wracking under it. You’re testing product for him, but somehow any physical reaction of feedback feels embarrassing. Vox has settled behind you, his clothes shed and an unlabeled bottle in his hand.

“Whatcha got there, Sir?” you ask, even though you can guess.

“Topical version of Val’s little love potion,” he focuses on his hands, not meeting your gaze, “just apply where you want sensations to increase.”

He continues looking down as he tosses the bottle on his nightstand and rubs the lube between his fingers, mechanical movements as he then takes a claw to the gusset of your lingerie, ripping it away easily before rubbing it in against your sex. His fingers move between your folds, warm liquid mixing with your own wetness. He speeds up his movements, fingers sliding faster against you as your wetness builds, every once in a while his fingers graze your clit to make you twitch.

As Vox’s fingers move, you’re met with a rising feeling of heat, heat everywhere, and every spot he hits, every graze of his claws sends electric shocks through your veins. Exactly like when Vox shocks you, but without him having to actually do it.

Vox has barely done anything, and yet you’re already a gasping mess in front of him.

Finally he meets your gaze, a smug smirk across his screen as his free hand starts to work the lube onto his cock, the edges of his screen twitching and emitting static as he works himself. You can feel how ready you are for him, practically dripping already. You bet he’ll slide right into you, and tell you what a good slut you are for him.

You throw your head back, ready for him; to fuck you, to grab at you, to manhandle you like the prized possession you are.

Except the familiar stretch of his cock never comes. You shiver with anticipation, body clenching around nothing, wetness growing cold in the space between your bodies.

“Do you think you deserve his cock?” Valentino asks, teasing you again with that smile. Valentino has unlaced his shorts, palming his member through the loosened leather with one of the hands not holding your restraint. Of course, he’s going to get something out of this too.

“Uh huh,” you respond with a dazed nod, mind already hazy and chasing a high.

“Look at her, the brat’s already fucked stupid and she hasn’t even been fucked,” Vox teases, but his voice sounds strained as well. He’s one to talk, you think.

His hands return to you, this time to spread your ass cheeks, baring you to him fully. You’re sure he can see how pathetic you probably look, wet and clenching for him and fully on display.

And then your arms buckle, threatening to collapse you, as the heightened but familiar feeling of that long tongue of his makes contact with your clit. Vox shoves his entire screen against you, tongue teasing and weakening you.

“You don’t deserve my cock until you can prove you’re my good little assistant, until you’re obeying me,” Vox growls between hungry licks to your folds.

“You’re gonna come on what he gives you,” Val taunts, and you really wish you could fuck up his last good antenna. It’s not that you hate your boss’ business partner, but he’s being a real dickhead right now.

Vox’s tongue assaults your cunt, sliding across your folds, right along the edges, prodding against your clit, but never plunging within you. Its torture. Each time the tip of his tongue makes contact with your clit is like a live wire, jolting you and pulling loud whining gasps from your lips. Vox moans against your cunt, openmouthed and unashamed.

His tongue oscillates, moving from side to side over the bundle of nerves without letting up, without mercy. He switches from left to right to up to down, every time you think you’re getting used to it, or hitting a rhythm, he changes it. It’s almost edging, the way Vox is keeping you teetering along the edge, keeping you right on the finish line without crossing it. Vox’s claws dig into your thigh, another loud moan fanning out against you.

And then suddenly the sam breaks, and a high pitched whine tears from your throat, and Vox pulls away to admire his handiwork. You’re sure you can picture his face, you think between shuddering moans, all smug and confident. Vox at his hottest. Shakes rock your frame, as if Vox had actually electrocuted you.

But instead of the soothing motions of his palms along your back, none of that comfort comes.

Pain radiates through your ass, a harsh spank to it rocking you out of your orgasm stupor.

Another spank follows it.

And another.

Another.

You’re sure it’s going to bruise, though you don’t care. Soon, it’ll be just another mark Vox has left on you.

So you close your eyes and take it.

Five.

Six.

Switch ass cheeks.

Seven.

Your eyes are drawn open from the onslaught of the spanks by a weaker slap against your cheek. Opening your eyes you see Val, one hand on your restraint, one hand reached out to slap you again, and a third on his cock, now out and fully hard.

Vox stops.

“Hey,” he snaps at Valentino, “Don’t touch what’s mine.”

Valentino scoffs, and rolls his eyes. Vox presses his palms against the spots where he’s spanked you.

“Well can she at least help me out?” he asks, clearly annoyed.

“If she wants to,” Vox’s voice is cool and collected, rare for Vox’s usual temper.

Valentino holds out his gloved hand, and you graciously spit into it, before watching him wrap that hand around his cock and begin to stroke it slow and lazy.

You turn to look behind you again, Vox’s screen aglow with your wetness glistening across it, his own spit trailing from the corner of his mouth. He looks as fucked up as you’re certain you do, needy and wild.

“Ready, Doll?” Vox asks, as sweet as he could possibly be. Any pretense about your brattiness forgotten, any game you were playing dropped.

You wiggle your ass at him, and he chuckles, soft.

“I cannot wait to be fucking buried in you,” he thrusts against you, tip bumping you and making your composure falter.

“Then fuck me,” you bit back, winking at him.

“Careful what you wish for,” he warns, and pushes himself in until his hips connect with your ass. He relaxes there for a moment, giving you a second to adjust before pulling almost entirely out, his tip catching on your folds.

He slams back in, no mercy for your well spanked ass cheeks, his hips rutting into them recklessly. Your fingers dig into the duvet, struggling to ground yourself. That electrocuted feeling is back, rising embarrassingly quick. Each time hips meet ass a squeak of a moan escapes your lips. Any fight you had in yourself is gone, as long as this feeling between you and Vox stays. You arch your back further into him, contorting yourself for pleasure and chasing your own desire.

But then the feeling of the lush duvet meets your face, and disoriented, you lose your high momentarily. Vox however, groans, loving every second of this. You look up, one set of Valentino’s hands pulling the restraint taut, the other vigorously working his shaft and balls. There’s a sinister grin on his face, obviously getting pleasure in your disorientation. Your hands stretch out in front of you, balling up more of the covers, a better grip than before.

“Fuck you feel amazing,” Vox sighs, “I’m gonna fuckin fill you up, Doll.”

Vox moves faster, starts babbling. You can’t even imagine how this feels for him, if it feels so euphoric for you. The new angle pushes you further, if that was even possible, moaning wantonly into the duvet as you clench around him, gripping at sanity.

“Gonna give you everything,gonna fuckin give you it all,” he rambles, speeding up his thrusting.

Each thrust pushes you up and up and up, the precipice of your high coming closer.

Vox sinks his claws into the top of your ass, anchoring you into place for him as he pistons in and out of you.

The shocking feeling grows more frequent, each time he bottoms out is a total reset of your system.

You come without warning, a harsh whine of a moan and your entire body clamps down on him, harsh and sudden.

You shake in the patterns of an earthquake,one after another after another. Vox holds you through it all, his thrusts slowing as your cunt becomes a vice grip on his cock, coming himself with a shuddering moan, collapsing upon you and savoring the feeling your bodies and fluids connected.

He keeps thrusting, working you both through the high and the comedown with ease, his hips snapping in time and spending all of his energy within you.

Vox only slows when your shaking stops, when your moans stutter out, when you go limp. He holds himself there in you, savoring the moment and the feeling. Euphoric warmth floods you, endorphins rushing below the skin. His hands run up and down your back, hot flat palms to soothe any aftershocks in your muscles.

Vox pulls out slowly, gentle and careful. You can already feel it, mixed spend spilling from you in his absence. He’s made a mess of you, and more than usual. You miss the warmth his body brings, the cool air of the room discomforting.

“Val you gotta look at this,” Vox’s voice is dripping with enthusiasm behind you despite the fact you know he’s as exhausted as you are. He runs the backs of his claws from your ass to your thigh, not a reassuring caress of aftercare, but the way one would admire a trophy. And in your case, a sweaty, messy, bound trophy. You meet eyes with Val, who tucks his now softening member back into his pants, and rises from his chair. The moth demon rounds the corner of the bed, and you can hear the dull thud of his leather glove against Vox’s bare shoulder.

“Oh, espléndida,” Valentino coos, the same tired lustful tone in his voice as Vox carries. Leather of Val’s glove makes contact with the small of your back, and your arch into his touch, but he moves no further. How is it that you still react to this kind of touch even after all of your body feels boneless and not your own?

“I know,” Vox practically moans, and you feel yourself once again constricting, this time around nothing. Fuck, the effect this man has on you. Vox indulges where Val doesn’t, his hand leaving your thigh to cup you between them. You moan, burying your face into the duvet below you as he runs the tip of his clawed finger between your oversensitive folds.

“Definitely good for business, right?” he asks, and you can feel the mixed spend of your releases dripping out of you, “Fuck, baby, you’re something else.”

He says that last part like Valentino isn’t here, like it’s the two of you, special and private. He smears it up between your ass cheeks, before removing his hand from you all together. You try to bury yourself into the blanket even further when you hear the sound of him sucking his own fingers clean. Normally you’d be opening your mouth for a greedy taste yourself, but something about Valentino being here keeps you meek.

“Can we keep this?” he asks his business partner, turning his attention away from you now.

“Of course!” Val booms excitedly, “And I can go ahead on production now that this trial has been a success!”

You slide down, your knees untucking from under you as you nestle further into the warmth of Vox’s navy blue duvet. It’s soft and doused in the same cologne he uses and oh so comforting. Conversation between the two men turns to Val’s business, nothing you actually have to pay attention to as it doesn’t apply to Vox’s schedule.

And then soon enough you feel Vox climb off the bed, hear the closing of a door, the click of a lock, and Vox’s hands return to your back, this time massaging and gentle.

He climbs back onto the bed, his body covering yours as he undoes the clasps of the restraints, pressing his chest against your back. He bends your arms at the elbow, bringing each wrist up against his screen to kiss them, his thumb massaging circles into them. His hands move back up your arms, over your shoulders, and down your back. Vox pushes you over, onto your side to lay on the bed, before laying down himself. You reach out for him in the dimly lit room, running your fingers along the bottom edge of his screen. He glows brighter, his little way of letting you know you have his attention even when he cannot turn to look at you.

“I’m messy,” you whine, but make no move to get up. You’re so spent your limbs feel like they’re made of stone.

“You want me to run a bath?” he asks, already getting up from his spot. He’s still naked, still your vulnerable Vox, something more than your boss.

You nod, jutting out your bottom lip at him. He chuckles as he gathers you up easily in his arms, making a beeline for his bathroom.

“Jacuzzi jets,” you tell him, and he nods vigorously. Of course, he was always going to turn on the jacuzzi jets; They’re your favorite.

Vox crosses the room easily as you wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling into him. He kicks the door to the bathroom open and sets you down on the cool tile of the counter. It soothes your ass, calms the handprint shaped bruises.

“Can I convince you to sleep over tonight, Doll?”

“No need,” you shake your head, a playful smile as he starts the bath, “I doubt I can fuckin’ walk after the number you did on me.”

Vox’s screen flashes, his smile huge.

#vox x reader #vox x reader x val #hazbin vox x reader

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seancekitsch · 18 days

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How about something with Vox and an assistant reader? I'm so excited your writing for Hazbin!

hehehe you have received: smut with fem reader

“I mean, do I have to hypnotize anyone if the marketing team is good? Darling, fire them all. Especially the ones I own. Make them squirm,” Vox talks, at you, not to you while you plug in the information on your V-Pad.

“Just squirm or flounder too?” you ask, not looking up at him either.

“Is that a fucking fish pun?” he turns on you, pushing his chair back from his desk.

“A synonym, Sir.”

You tap the screen a few times, filling his request and adding a bit of your own to it.

“Done. No severance package.”

You meet his gaze, smile toothy and wide.

“Devious bitch,” he muses, smiling just as wide, “Come to Daddy.”

You set the tablet down at the table near the door, smoothing out your skirt as you start to strut across the office, essentially modeling the outfit Vox had gotten designed for you. But before you can make it even a quarter of the way, Vox stops you with a look.

Right, how could you forget? You kick off your stilettos, a flash of the red bottoms against the navy carpet and you sink to your hands and knees; slowly, seductively crawling towards the overlord at his desk.

His screen glitches briefly, electrical current sparkling along the edges of him. He watches you fixated like a predator stalking his prey, yet you flourish under his scrutiny, proud and confident as your nails dig into the carpet and you make your way to the spot at his feet. Vox pats his lap, a silent invitation. There is no seat for you in this office, and thats on purpose. Vox always wants you on his lap, draped over him, straddling him, perched like a shiny trophy. Today you choose to straddle him, hiking up your skirt as you settle in facing him.

“Any panties?” He asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No point when I work for you,” you tease, settling yourself flush against him, bare against his lap. He’s already hard, because of course he is. When is Vox not hard if you’re in the room? It strokes your ego, the power you have over the overlord, the control you have over a powerful man.

“Seriously, where would I be without you?” he purrs, leaning in close and grabbing fistfuls of your ass.

“Hmm, probably struggling to keep your schedule?” you muse, nails raking down the front of his suit jacket.

Without warning, he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his hips like second nature at this point before he throws you unceremoniously down onto his desk, muscle memory stopping the back of your head from connecting to his keyboard. You’d learned that the hard way when this all started.

“Certainly wouldn’t be making a mess of my office,” he muses, his claws tracing down your front, teasing your cleavage and down your navel.

You reach for his belt buckle, making quick work of it.

“For the third time this week,” you say, always teasing him. Always pushing your boss’ buttons.

Vox hastily pushes your hands away, tugging his dress shirt out of his pants and undoing them enough to slide them down, his boxers coming with them. You gaze down at his cock, while fucking has become routine you’re always somewhat in awe of the size of him.

He’s quick to push your skirt up, bunching it around your waist without any care for the fabric. He’ll probably just buy you another one, so arch your back into his movements, letting him pull you into position while slots himself right where he needs to be. His eyes meet yours, screen bright and blinding. Sharp teeth in two identical smiles, and he pushes in.

You struggle to keep your eyes on his as you moan around the stretch, no matter how many times this happens it always catches your breath in your throat.

“Fffffuck yes,” Vox practically growls, voice modulator losing control as he bottoms out with your bodies fully connecting. He wastes no time setting a pace, hips snapping against yours, slightly upwards, hitting a truly amazing spot within you. You see stars, disoriented and already high on him him him.

Vox runs his claws along your hips, electrical currents running along your skin just strong enough to make your body twitch beneath him. His hands trail under your legs, hoisting them up against his chest to control you that much more as he leans over you.

“All mine, fuck, all mine,” Vox pants, speeding up his thrusts, rocking you further into the desk as his claws dig into your thighs to keep you flush against him. He grinds his pelvis into yours each time he bottoms out, sweet friction punctuated by featherlight sparks of electricity radiating from skin on skin. You nod eagerly, gritting your teeth, but that isn’t good enough for the CEO above you.

“Fuckin— say it! Say you’re mine,” he begs, his voice urgent and desperate.

“I’m— I’m—“

A moan cuts off anything you have to say, electrical pulses going straight to your cunt and frying your brain in the process.

“Gonna short circuit for me?” he teases now, and fuck he’s so confident. You’d like for once to have him writhing the way he does you. But your brain does indeed short circuit before you can dwell on that too much, your orgasm having snuck up on you, white hot intensity behind your eyes. You wail underneath him, your hands reaching out for his and prying his claws from your thighs. Instantly, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving you stability as he fucks you through your orgasm. Vox groans as he spills into you only moments later, practically collapsing on top of you.

He stays there, with you folded in half, his length softening inside you, your fingers still tangled together.

“Can you say it now?” he asks, the edge of his screen resting against your shirt as it dims.

“I’m yours,” you confirm, “you needy prick.”

Vox laughs, loud and barking, and finally pushes himself off you. He’s incredibly gentle to pull out, to slowly unfold limbs and help you to sit up, letting you lean onto him.

“You know, I should really report you to HR for name calling,” Vox finally says, winking as he does.

It’s your turn to laugh, scoffing as you weakly slap at his chest.

“Right, and if you get me demoted I promise you that Peppermint couldn’t give you pussy half as good as this.”

Vox kisses you hard on the mouth, static crackling as screen touches lips.

Voxtech doesn’t even have an HR department.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox smut

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