summary: working for vox was not easy. especially after he had made it very clear that he wanted her. alastor was tired of the public displays, desperate to show her how a gentleman could treat her.
tags: Alastor X fem!reader, nonsexrepulsed!Alastor, working for Vox, SMUT, SMUTTY SMUT, long read, soft!alastor, semi-public, revenge sex, i love italics, MDNI
I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION!
Vox had sat in his chair, pulling his shoulders back and collecting himself as he awaited her arrival. He was over the moon with excitement, having anticipated this conversation for weeks. And when she entered the room, her clothes too professional, too puritan for his liking, he gestured for her to sit. She quickly complied, maintaining skillful composure as she did so.
âIâm impressed by you,â he had said, âyou really know how to take care of things; you know how the art of business runs. I admire that.â Heat rose to her cheeks at his complimentary words. âIâve been thinking, and, please, stop me if this is too much. But I think it would be beneficial to our brand to have you by my side. My personal assistant, so to speak.â Her lips parted, not entirely sure how to respond as he leaned back, fingertips pressing together.
âYouâd help call a lot of the shots, right alongside me. Iâve seen what you can do, and I just have this hunch, this feeling, that youâre the only person thatâs right for the job. Do you think you can handle that?â
A rush of excitement rose within her. She had worked so hard for this, had run herself ragged to earn a higher position; although being Voxâs personal assistant wasnât quite what she had in mind, the reality of being rewarded for her dedication was exhilarating.
âYes! Yes, I can. Iâd be delighted.â His screen tilted to the side as he smirked at her. Truthfully, he had absolutely no idea what her role at VoxTech was. All he knew was that she was a pretty little thing; an innocent thing, a thing he wanted all to himself. A perfectly crafted object to show off to all of Hell, tucked underneath his arm.
âYouâd have to spend a lot of your time with me, which I hope it isnât, but would that happen to be a problem?â His digital gaze became suggestive, though it almost flew over her head, too elated at the offer to notice.
âNo, not at all, sir.â His grin grew, delicious and intimidating all the same.
From then on, she was affixed to his side. Every affair that Vox had to attend, eyes of the gathering never had to look too far to find her, completing Voxâs every request; buoyant and steadfast.
The headlines quickly ran rampant; but she knew when she had accepted his offer that their relationship, professional or not, was bound to circulate like wildfire. Any time she appeared on the screen, a title ran underneath it, always something to the extent of âVOXâS HOTTEST NEW ITEM.â
It didnât bother her too muchâshe knew it came with the territory of being around an influential overlord. That was, until Vox himself began to try his hand at advancing their relationship, making bawdy comments and gestures that became more bold by the week. Flowers and expensive gifts habitually appeared on her desk, indecent notes along with it.
She tried her best to brush it aside, however, during their meetings, he would find a way to bring up the offerings, asking how she enjoyed them. To his dismay, she always remained professional, always thanked him with eager respect.
Their days together would then continue as usual, his eyes swallowing her whole as she unassumingly flipped through papers. And it always ended the same; with him, resisting taking her body atop his deskâ and her, innocently waving goodbye.
On the opposite side of the city, Alastor had, uncharacteristically, found himself tuning in to the news. He watched with animus as he surveyed the vision of her, dolled up and pampered while Vox greedily pulled her to his side, his hand dangerously low on her waist. It made his blood curdle, his muscles tighten.
Most frustrating of all, Alastor was completely unable to read her emotions over the screen, though it came so easy to him when they were face to face. He could never discern if her grins were for the camera, or if she was genuinely delighted to be aside the Media Overlord.
And she would enter the hotel every night, the smile he had grown obsessive over replaced with unfiltered exhaustion. Without fail, her demeanor produced a flare of rage to course through him. The sight of her next to Vox was unbearable enough, but even worse was the notion that he was running her dry; stealing her spirit.
Before her newfound responsibility, they had routinely sat at the bar for hours when everyone else had turned in for the night. Effortless conversation flourished, neither of them having cared too much for sleep. But nowadays, her body required slumber, all but begged her to succumb to it. And he was then left alone, sipping his whiskey and engulfed in his own thoughts.
Alastor's unrestrained imagination tortured him most nights, though it didnât take much of it to picture Vox cradling her, as he had seen it many times across the hotel's TV; too many times.
It seemed as though she was everywhere. News outlets, headlines, around Voxâs arm, anywhere but by his side. He couldnât pinpoint the moment that the frustration inside of him boiled over, all he knew was that it had.
So when she trudged through the doors that night, he already had a glass of her favorite spirit poured for her, waiting for her.
She glanced his way, a smile trying to pull at her lips, a look so different than she portrayed to the media. But despite her fatigued manner, Alastor perked up at the sight of her; even disheveled, she was a marvel to behold.
âHow was your day, darling?â She sighed, her features sagging as she ran a hand down her face.
âAh.. it was fineâi-it was good! âS just so tiring sometimes, you know?â He nodded, standing to outstretch the glass to her, but she raised her palm in a polite refusal,âthank you, Al, really. Itâs just gonna be a long day tomorrow. I should probably head to bed.â
He shook his head playfully, placing his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the barstool. He pulled it out and she practically collapsed into it, not putting up a convincing fight as her purse fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
âIt wonât kill you to indulge in relaxation just this once.â She finally took the drink from his hands, quickly guzzling it before placing it back onto the counter with an exhale.
âI suppose not. Itâs justâach. I wonât bore you with the details.â Alastor collected her emptied glass, making his way around the island so he was opposite of her. He leaned forward onto his elbows, making sure to catch her weary eyes with his alleviating gaze.
âNonsense. Iâve longed to hear the sound of your voice, my dear. Please, do enlighten me.â She smiled, soft and genuine, uninfluenced by the need to performâand oh, how he had missed the view. He slipped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, eager to prepare her a new beverage.
âToday was just long, I think. Not that it was necessarily bad. Vox had three meetings this morning, all which I had to present for. Then, we spent the afternoon doing so much fucking paperwork. After that, we had to attend the Vee Gala for their employees. I had to go back to the office to change since Velvette wanted her dress back. She refused, but I begged her to let me keep it, it was gorgeous.â Alastor smiled, eyes gleaming.
âYes, I saw.â He had indeed seen her, dressed in a glimmering cobalt gown; a gown that hugged her figure as if it was made for her and her alone. He hadnât been able to look away from the screen when she appeared, perfectly and utterly breathtaking. Her head snapped up at his comment, eyes wide with glee .
âWait, you.. you saw? Like, you watched the TV? As in you, Alastor, watched the VoxTech channel?â He chuckled at her bewilderment as he slowly nodded, a sly smirk as he brought his drink to his lips,âI donât believe you for a fucking second.â
âIs it truly so hard to believe? Iâve quite missed your presence,âAlastor grabbed and raised her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles. A blush creeped across her cheeks as her eyelashes fluttered,âblue.. is your color, darling.â Their eyes locked, hers timid and his assertive. âPlease, continue.â
âO-oh, uh, well Vox was the one to drive me back to the office. And somehow while we were in the car, and maybe I was just too tired to think straight, but I agreed to go to dinner with him tomorrow. I mean, I had a feeling he was gonna ask tonight, so I had this whole speech prepared andâ Al?â
Alastor was still as a statue, his gaze that was so incredibly kind only moments ago now entirely blackened. She had never seen his grin so strained; she was afraid it would truly split his cheeks if it pulled any further.
âAl? Alastor? Are you okay?â She reached out to grab his hand, but he abruptly pulled away, his demonic expression suddenly disappearing. He grabbed his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder before turning back to her.
âIt appears Iâve grown quite tired. Have a lovely night.â He barely gave her a second glance before wandering off. Her eyebrows wrinkled together, directionless and alone.
Alastor paced the expanse of his room. If he hadnât known the bayou like the back of his hand, he would surely be lost in it. He felt an emotion that he supposed was panic; trembling hands, heavy breaths, reeling thoughts. Though he felt those effects when he was angered, it was the unfamiliar sense of dread that caused him to discern the difference of emotion.
He could see it; Vox leaned forward over a candlelit table, whispering compliments and sweet-nothings, promising her the world. And her, ever-so beautiful under the warm light, shy and politely smiling, perhaps even blushing. Perhaps even believing him, being charmed by him.
He abruptly stopped in his tracks, gears turning in his mind. Then, with a growing smile and a brilliant idea, he calmly made the trek back to his bed.
The next day, Vox had urged her to go home early to, in his words,âget pretty for him.â Her face nearly twisted with revulsion at the distasteful comment, but instead she forced a laugh and left him.
In her office, she was collecting papers to bring home, shutting down her computer before scanning the room to make sure she hadnât missed anything.
When she was sure everything was in place, she made her way to the door, but halted when the hairs on her neck stood straight as a familiar presence entered the room. She looked around once again to find that she was still alone. But she felt it, and she couldnât quite place why she knew it, but she did.
Then suddenly, she saw it out of her peripheral; an inky mass that swiftly crawled across the floor. She swiveled, following it to the corner where it creeped up the wall and took the shape of the Radio Demon.
âAlastor?â The shadow nodded, lifting a finger to beckon her before moving again, slinking underneath the door. Whether she was enthralled or aghast was unclear, but she found herself promptly following its trail anyways. When she opened the door, her eyes narrowed, trying to find the shadow once again.
The lights to her left began to flicker one by one down the hallway, discreetly leading her to the stairwell. With trepidation in her gait, she descended the steps, exiting the back door to find a car waiting in the darkened alleyway. The shadow opened the doorâeven in apparitions, Alastor stayed a gentlemanâand she slid into the backseat, quickly noticing that the driverâs seat was vacant. Her head whipped to the side to see the grinning shadow beside her. When the locks clicked and the car began moving, her eyes widened in horror.
âAlastor, what the hell?â But of course, she was met with devilish silence. That was, until jazz music began to play over the radio, muffled and staticked. The smooth tones had her body relaxing, had her sinking into her seat.
The drive was quite rapid, though somehow the smoothest ride she had ever taken. It nearly felt as though they were floating through the city's streets, streetlights and neon signs rushing past as she essentially handed her life over to Alastorâs will.
Minutes later, the vehicle slowed to a stop and the shadow that had been her quiet companion caressed her skin as it moved over her lap, opening the door for her once again. She stepped out, taking in the familiar view of her favorite restaurant before approaching the entrance.
When she set foot in the building, she was instantly struck by the stark silence, a silence that was so dramatically different from the countless times she had been here before. As per usual, there was a host there to greet her. He appeared to be shaking with apprehension, taking no time to greet her.
âR-right this way!â He led her through the venue and while they walked, she took notice of how every table they passed was emptyâagain, ever-so different from the bustling crowd she was used to.
The host guided her around a corner and there he was, sipping his whiskey and looking directly at her. His shadow shot out from under her feet to pull the chair out, the host sweeping his trembling hand in a motion for her to sit. Alastor set his glass down, addressing the sinner without taking his gaze off of her.
âThatâll be all, thank you.â The man couldnât have left any quicker, briskly fleeing the company of the Radio Demon. She, however, was mesmerized to see him, smirking as she sat, a glass of wine already awaiting her at the table.
âAlastor, what is this?â He returned her spirited expression, delightfully surprised that she wasnât seething at the detour.
âItâs my apology! For leaving you so unexpectedly last night.â He lifted his glass in a toast of sorts, his stare evolving, akin to looks reserved for intimacy,âForgive me, mon cher.â She took a moment to process before lifting her own glass, a high-pitched ringing cutting the heavy silence as they clinked together.
âYouâre forgiven.â They sipped their drinks, their eyes silently securing a bridge of unspoken desire.
As playful and sultry banter poured forth, they became blind to the passage of time. A laugh, a skimming of hands, a blush; it all enveloped the atmosphere. And slowly; gently, the space between them grew smaller.
A few drinks later, their minds fuzzy and thoughts unrestricted, her chair was now on the left side of the table instead of across from him. She leaned forward on her elbow as he talked, the movement of his lips becoming hypnotic.
In her not-so-secret survey of his features, she had taken special notice of his ruby-colored eyes, watching as they flitted to the space above her head every so often. When it started to become more frequent, she found herself wondering if there was something in her hair, if it had fallen out of place. And when it happened again, his eternal smile devilishly growing and pride surfacing, she turned to see what had taken his attention away from her.
âWhat are youâŠoh my god. Oh fuck.â With alarms blaring in her head, she set her eyes on the clock against the wall, sitting directly behind her.
Vox had been waiting for almost thirty minutes.
âOh, fuck. Fuck.â She scrambled for her things, all but falling off of her chair. As she fumbled her purse in her hands, she spun around to see Alastor, still tranquil. If anything, he looked pleased with himself as he stood, straightening his jacket. âI am so sorry, Al. I have to go. I had thatââ
âIâm aware.â She looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. The disturbing thought of Vox sitting alone any longer was enough for her to not question his statement. So she put a hand on his chest, a genuine gesture of appreciation as she slowed herself down, taking in the last of her moments with him.
âThis was.. truly lovely. Thank you, Alastor. I needed this.â She flashed a small smile, one that seemed pained,âIâll see you tomorrow.â
She began to turn away from him, but his cool hand wrapped around her wrist, catching and flipping her back around. He pulled her in closer, their breaths mingling in the space between them. His scarlet eyes became intent and demanding, though they conveyed no sense of force. Her lips parted as he began to speak.
âThis? Was not for nothing, darling. Iâve seen how he parades you around like a body to objectify. And your beauty is to be revered, not exploited. My intention tonight was to ensure that you didnât further entangle yourself with a pitiful excuse of a man.â She slightly shook her head, a yearning ache burning through her at his words.
âAlastor..â His hand cupped her face, gently grazing her lip with his thumb.
âYou deserve the stars, my dear. I believe you know that. And I believe you know who can provide them for you.â His expression was soft, his eyes that were usually indecipherable becoming windows she had longed to peer through, vulnerable and convincing.
But regardless of his sincerity, she couldn't help but feel that she was succumbing to something ill-considered, remembering what she had promised to the TV demon.
âItâs.. itâs my job, Al. Heâs my boss.â His pupils sharpened, the energy that radiated from him becoming hungry; becoming furious at the mention of Voxâs authority over her. The words that left her lips stung his ears, but they didnât seem to completely register as he continued on, ignoring her statements.
âI have a proposition. One that you have every right to decline, if you so wish. If it is unappealing to you, I will take you to Vox myself and explain that I was the reason for your absence.â She looked back to the clock, unease settling within her as time was moving so quickly now, where moments ago it was only a fictitious concept.
Despite her better judgement, she couldnât help but be intrigued by his words and curiously hardened aura; by the way he could make his threatening presence so alluring.
âI know you are exhausted; tired of being treated like a piece of meat instead of an equal. While you try to hide it, I know it angers you. It angers me the same.â He paused, waiting for her consent to continue.
âPerhaps.. there is a way. To show you what it should feel like to be truly appreciated.. all while showing him that you do not belong to him. That you are not his pet.â His eyes became dark now, enveloped in the hunger she had only seen a glimpse of earlier. His smile creeped across his face, promising sinful ideas of revenge and bliss.
As he continued, carefully telling her of his design, her expression conveyed many clashing emotions. Bewilderment, shyness, apprehension, lust, and lastly; approval. When he finishedâ their chests now flush against each other, his hands affectionately digging into her hipsâhe observed her. The air between them was intense, heavy with wicked words and greedy thoughts.
âRemember, this is your decision. It will not be⊠gratifying if it is not something that you want.â She closed her eyes, seeing as his words came to life in her mind, basking in what was to come. Her gaze lifted to him, swimming with determination.
âYes.â She could tell he was trying not to give himself away, trying not to seem too pleased. But she felt his chest underneath her hand as he released a shaky breath; a breath filled with relief and satisfaction before he spoke again.
âI need you to be sure.â She nodded, not needing to consider it again before reassuring him.
âI am. And my answer is yes.â
He grinned, her sense of reality melting inside darkened clouds before they emerged into an unfamiliar room. It took her a moment to gain awareness of her surroundings, but when her vision focused, she realized they were in his broadcasting studio; a room she had previously been prohibited from entering.
His claw lazily trailed down the front of her torso, tugging at the hem of her shirt, traveling lower to tap the button of her slacks with a pointed claw.
âTake those off for me, sweetheart.â She hastily followed his instruction, crossing her arms and swiftly pulling her shirt above her head, exposing her bare chest. He licked his lips at the sight, the static around him buzzing in assent before turning away from her.
He approached the panel that overlooked Pentagram City as she slipped off the remainder of her garments. She watched as the prominent veins underneath his hands shifted with his dragging movements, flipping switches and pressing buttons. The lights of the panel illuminated his face, his pleasant voice humming a tune as he turned the final dialâ then, the crimson luminescence of a flashing light penetrated the dark space.
âAnd weâre live!â His eyes bore into hers, his voice drastically different from the indications behind his gaze. Her skin felt as if it could catch fire at the anticipation, the space between her thighs dampening with need.
âI have quite the special broadcast for you this evening, sinners! I implore you to wait patiently as we prepareâthis is a show you wonât want to miss!â
With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a table into the middle of the room. When he turned back around, he almost felt lightheaded at the view of her naked body, presenting herself as if she was all for him. He gripped her hips and lifted her onto the tabletop with ease, devouring her with his gaze.
âAre you ready?â She nodded ardently and he smirked, bending his head down to lay soft kisses near the nape of her neck. A gasp left her lips as his teeth began nipping further down her body, his movements becoming more impassioned. âDonât hold back your words, darling. Let him hear you moan for me.â
His nimble digits caressed her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth and twisting his tongue around the hardened bud. He bit down, just shy of being painful, but perfectly enough to be oh, so arousing. Her chest was quickly rising and falling underneath his mouth, releasing sinful whimpers.
âThat feels so good.â He groaned, her hallowed acclaims only encouraging his hunger to spiral into starvation. He pulled away from her chest, pushing her thighs up until they were aside her head. His stare met her own, her eyebrows turned up in a silent plea for him to continue, desperate and deprived.
âWhere do you need me?â Her figure wriggled underneath his grasp and he bent down to swipe his tongue along her arousal, causing a buck of her hips and a reverberant moan to leave her. He savored the taste before standing again, repeating his question,âwhere do you need me? Say it for everyone to hear like a good girl.â
âI-I need you inside of me, Alastor.â He chuckled, low and sultry, having yearned to hear the words fall from her tongue for longer than he was willing to admit.
âHold yourself open for me.â He purred and she gripped the flesh behind her knees, happily doing as she was told. Alastor stepped back, undoing his belt and pushing down the fabric just enough to release his stiff erection, not letting his attention from her deviate.
Her soft moans transformed into pitiful cries when his large length was exposed; the sensation of her walls narrowing around nothing now becoming unbearable.
âI know, love. Just a moment longer.â Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fingers to his mouth and spat on them, coating them with his saliva. He smirked as he drew near her, lowering his hand to tease her entrance. Her grip on her knees faltered, watching while his lubricated fingers slowly disappeared inside of her.
Her hopeless whines filled the air, sounding through the microphone for all of Hell to hear while she began bouncing onto his hand, now slick enough for him to enter a third finger.
His free hand frantically explored her body, unable to find a single place to settle onto; he wanted all of her, wanted to feel every inch of her underneath his fingertips while she squirmed against his motions. Her pelvis continued to grind against him and he pistoned his fingers deeper into her, ensuring that she would be able to take his cock.
Alastor had nearly forgotten himself and his throbbing erection until he brushed the depths of her, delightfully watching her heavenly features contort with rhapsody. And suddenly, he could not wait any longer than he already had.
He pulled his hand out of her, causing her to whimper at the abrupt emptiness. But it was not long before he aligned himself with her opening, burying his cock within her soft walls. Her publicized cries were instantaneous, becoming a harmonic symphony. Her eyelashes fluttered, mouth agape as bliss oscillated between them with each thrust of his hips.
âOh⊠oh my god.â His eyes were wide and unblinking, unwilling to deny himself the fulfillment of watching as her visage skewed with pleasure. Her lips attempted to form sentences of praise, though any existence of words died on arrival, too consumed by unbridled ecstasy.
Alastorâs hand wrapped around her throat, a choked moan at last escaping her at the action. His thrusts into her were devout, the movements of her body, her pussy around him becoming a newfound religion as he ran his hands along her curves.
âFucking immaculate.â At his words, her walls squeezed around his cock, tugging a groan from his lips. Her stare was now glassy and dazed, her mind unable to think of anything but the rapture rippling through every nerve in her body.
The hand around her neck moved to her jaw, securely gripping, lifting, then forcing her eyes to meet his own. She whined as she saw him firmly scowling while he continued to move into her, his stare exacting.
âAlastorââ Her reverent call was cut short as his pace quickened, his palm now resting on the space just below her stomach while his thumb inscribed adoring vows around her clit. Her back arched as she whined, her breaths becoming quicker, more desperate. A coil began to tighten in her stomach, her orgasm preparing to wash over her.
âIâmâIâm gonna,â He nodded, sweat beading at his forehead as his own release approached. He then spoke, his words sounding closer to a growl as his sable antlers lengthened.
âScream my name, darling.â
And as her pleasure peaked, he slammed himself into her, continuing to circle her bundle of nerves. With a wail tearing from her throat, she came, bellowing his name as if it was her last dying wish.
Vox had recognized her voice the second it came across the speaker. His blood ran cold at the sound of her pleasure, the sound he thought he would be invoking from her at the end of the night. But even more mortifying was the voice that resided alongside hers. He heard her, heard her whines, heard the Radio Demonâs name grace her pretty lips.
He was seething. The intense electricity of his emotion caused an outage within the building.
The patrons of the gaudy restaurant turned their eyes to him, reveling in his embarrassment as he sat alone, forced to hear his precious arm candy at the mercy of another.
Without a word, Vox stood and aggressively stormed out of the building, slamming the door behind him.
theartofmadeline
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