summary: you had retreated from the party charlie had thrown, seeking solace in your own company, though your lack of presence had been noticed by one sinner in particular...
pairing: alastor x gn!reader.
type: oneshot - fluff.
warnings: reader is a smoker, other than that none.
what originally started as a night of revelry and camaraderie within the hotel had soon dissolved into something far more bittersweet. the night was young, and yet there you were retreating from it all, leaving nothing but an empty spot in the lounge and a few questioning glances in your wake. the muffled speech of your friends slowly faded into nihility as you made your way further through the complex, walls soaking up their words like a sponge to protect you from the conversation that served as a catalyst for your impromptu departure.
the talk of life was somewhat of a sensitive subject for you. each thoughtful reflection, each nostalgic comment uttered amongst the group only served to stir something from within you that made your heart drop upon impact. maybe it was sadness, but such an explanation would be too simple. perhaps it was laced with something more potent like regret, even a tinge of awe as you listened to stories from those who lived decades apart from one another. it prompted you to wonder what the world was like back then, and what the world had become now that you had departed from it. it was a rabbit-hole of unruly emotions you found yourself diving headlong into without the consideration of a thought.
it was when you reached the roof of the hotel your cares melted away, the wind flushing it from your body in one graceful waft of its inviting arms. the late night breeze, cold yet welcoming, offered its silent company as it gently pricked at your nerves, plucking the remaining troubles from your body as you settled on the rooftop. you made your way to the edge, peering down below. the flashy neon of the hotel lights obstructed your view of the hotel's closer outskirts, yet the pentagram far off into the distance could be seen perfectly. settled and with the addition of a familiar view, you pulled out a half-used pack of cigarettes from your pocket, the outer layering of the pack slightly scuffed and worn. you plucked one of the sticks from the pack and settled it back into your pocket. the cigarette was the only thing that remained in your hands besides the lighter now, and so you rested it firmly between your lips and lit it with a few fumbled flicks.
a few drags in and you were already feeling the effects of the nicotine, relaxing into the embrace of quiet seclusion with a mind blanker than your expression as you watched on from your isolated spot on the roof. for a few minutes, it was peaceful. no memories were being elicted from your mind, no words were being spoken to think upon. your emotions had finally come to a standstill, you could finally breathe, until a familiar voice rang from behind, not too distant, though also not too far.
"i take it you ran off here to escape that dreadfully dull conversation? maybe even wallow, dare i say?"
alastor slowly approached you, his form detatching from the shadows he had travelled through to get there. his pace was akin to a predator approaching his prey; dress shoes click-clacked against the roof slowly, shooting cracks of sharp sound through the air. the sound of static he emitted, even while staying silent, hummed faintly around him with intrigue, becoming more discernible as he drew closer still. he finally came to a stop, lingering a few feet away, instantly noticing your look of unfiltered bewilderment at his arrival and comment simultaneously; his grin only grew sharper in response. the smoke of your cigarette ascended, curling around you protectively as though to keep you in your own bubble of serenity. alastor, meanwhile, had other ideas, humming to himself as though he wasn't fully aware he was interrupting your privacy.
"oh, come now! i was under the impression you had thicker skin than that!"
"i'm surprised you care given you weren't really a part of the conversation to begin with."
you recalled alastor not engaging with the nostalgic conversation at all, or anyone, really. he had spent the evening perched above the lounge on the mezzanine with a glass of whiskey in hand, watching on from above like a creepy, red-headed gargoyle. it was normal for alastor to be so detached from the group. you didn't bat an eye at his behaviour earlier, nor did you try to coax him down, and yet he had tailed you to the roof, insisting on shattering your seclusion with his presence that he gave so sparingly earlier on for motivations only known to him.
alastor's head tilted off to the side at your comment, his ears lopping over in tandem with the shift. your response wasn't snappy, you knew him well enough to differentiate his teasing from his mockery, yet it was defensive enough to pique his ever-searching interest - something you had a tendency to capture without even realising it. he coolly placed one foot in front of the other, stepping just a margin closer to you. his scrutinising gaze was enough to indicate that you had been seen through, and he knew clearly your motivations for leaving so soon.
"sentimentality is dangerous, my dear. a slippery slope. place your foot a tad too far off the edge and you'll tumble on down."
the usual fervent static in his voice had died down to a soft purr as he spoke, an audible change in approach, subduing his usual theatrics a notch. you raised your eyebrows at the unexpected word of advice, leaning back against the cooled railing of the rooftop and taking a slow drag of the long-neglected cigarette between your fingers. the long trail of ash that had garnered over time fluttered off of the edge the moment you moved it to your mouth, painting a small patch of the roof in a splatter of grey as it hit.
"it's funny how you of all people are telling me that."
"i beg your pardon?"
"i mean, it's like you're averse to change, almost. anything from your time you favour over everything else."
alastor's ear flicked in mild irritation at your words, though quickly stilled as he caught himself. the only giveaway of his emotions now was the barely noticeable twitching there, an internal struggle to contain the involuntary movements. his annoyance quickly subsided however, replaced with something close to amusement. you. you had a habit of testing him in the most deliciously entertaining of ways; ways that allowed him to dangle the possibility of vulnerability over your head only to snatch it back. a cruel game he engaged in cautiously. sometimes he'd muse to himself, entertaining the idea of permitting you a glimpse of something deeper, more genuine, though he'd perish the thought as quickly as it formed. sentimentality really was dangerous.
"ah! but why favour anything else when the things from my day were optimal? it's a simple matter of fact over opinion, my dear!"
he deflected expertly, his usual unwavering poise overtaking his previous overt display of emotion. you shot him a skeptical look as your arm stretched over the edge of the rooftop, dropping the cigarette butt over the edge. he always spoke so passionately about the 30s - the boom of jazz and radio sweeping new orleans up into a frenzy, the speakeasies busting with life, dance, and music that reflected the culture. it was as personal as you had ever gotten with alastor, as close as you got to cracking his nonchalant, unfaltering exterior.
"so you don't get nostalgia? not even an ounce of sentimentality?"
"i could lie to you and say that i don't, however i indulge in it... sparingly. I don't allow it to have leverage."
your eyes lit up, feeling a small flutter of victory at his confession. it was ultimately a small gesture, yet the weight behind it was grandiose, even if his delivery was as guarded as ever, coated in his unique blend of reservation and cockiness. the fact he had emotional ties was easy to forget, and the admission humanised him in a way you wouldn't dare say to his face. you pushed your weight off of the railing and took a step towards him, the wind nipping at your skin with the movement as though it was as excited over his statement as you were. you wanted to know more, and for once, you opted to press further.
"do you miss the parties? the speakeasies, the jazz... you've talked about that before."
"is this your attempt at prying for more, my dear? if so, you're being awfully blatant about it."
"i'm just curious."
alastor cocked his head to the side once again, taking on an unnatural angle this time and causing a small snap to echo through the air - it didn't seem to affect him in the slightest. his gaze never left you, studying you, considering the appeal in his mind before finally relenting with a hum. he decided to take the bait, to bite down on the temptation of letting himself be that slightest bit more open - just for you. you coaxed that urge in him, something he both admired and shunned concurrently. he both revelled in and loathed the effect you had on him, and up until then he had done a fine job of treading the thinning line between detachment and yearning.
"i suppose i enjoyed them. i'd often grace the speakeasies with some pianism, and when i didn't? canaries would sing, jazz performances, swing bands, dance... much more agreeable than whatever the modern rabble has to offer."
he had stalked closer, speaking low, the static in his voice thinning to near non-existance once more. it was like an attempted shield from prying eyes, not that there were any. he was reserving this for you, for your knowledge only.
"'laissez les bons temps rouler' as we say in new orleans, sha. a popular phrase. one that you ought to adopt unless you'd rather brood alone on the rooftop. frowning can make one wrinkle surprisingly fast!"
"i'm not going to wrinkle! and i'm not brooding!"
"ah, well, i'm just pointing out that it'd be a shame if a youthful thing like you walked around hell looking like an old boo! if you'd like, i'd be happy to show you a touch of how we... ah, 'let the good times roll' in new orleans."
the offer left his lips before he even registered it, inwardly scorning himself for the slip up that betrayed his consistently schooled mannerisms. on the other hand, now that the offer lingered in the air, alastor found himself waiting with newfound interestedness, his stomach flipping with a foreign feeling of eagerness and anticipation that he wrestled with. he didn't retract the offer, nor did he rephrase it, he just... waited.
you on the other hand were taken aback by his description, stunned into momentary silence as you imagined the old-world atmosphere, the carefree dancing, the secretive thrill of residing in a speakeasy, all with the help of alastor's uncharacteristically fond commentary. the picture you had painted in your head soon faded, replaced by buzzing thoughts you hardly had the chance to process thanks to his offer. you stared up at him, a questioning look crossed your features as though mulling over the legitimacy of his offer.
"and if i did happen to want to save myself from these wrinkles and indulge you... how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
"rather simply, my dear, if i may?"
his hand was outstretched, silently beckoning you to take it in your own. the moment you conceded, your skin brushing against his own gently as the circumference of your hand filled the empty gap in his, alastor decided he'd be rolling with the punches for the duration of this little interaction, or rather the punches he kept throwing himself. you had a habit of throwing him off his guard without even knowing, encouraging feelings he never realised he was capable of and causing his typical bravado to falter, to chip and crack subtly. he decided to indulge in you for now, to tempt fate to throw him whatever curveball she had to offer. he had grown daring under your influence.
he pulled you in, closer than he would dare anyone to be to him. his personal space was now yours - a unity of conjoined, comfortable space. one of his hands rested on your waist while the other guided yours around his neck with ease. your free hand soon became interlaced with his, directing it to rest up and beside the two of you. a soft hum of static emitted from him, the kind you'd hear when adjusting the dials on an old radio, before a tune thrummed to life seemingly from himself. his red eyes and gold teeth began to glow in a subtle display, pointing to him as the sole cause for the music. he began guiding you along the rooftop in a slow, rhythmatic dance, something akin to a slow drag mingled with a traditional waltz.
"'you might get better, but you'll never get well.' it's a personal favourite of mine."
he guided your movements with slow, deliberate accuracy, each turn and positioning of his legs having been practiced and perfected a million times before. you let him lead, conducting your body to the rhythm of the music alongside his. you merely followed his lead, soaking up the moment as you further eased against him, awestruck.
"typically, you'd dance to this with a bit more flair... however i don't think guests would appreciate us banging on their roof while they try to sleep, no?"
an excuse. one that he passed off perfectly. in truth, he wanted to savour the moment, to drag it out as long as he could in an attempt to satiate the greed for you that gnawed at him. he couldn't care less about being a disruption, and in any other case, he'd find being so bothersome humorous. but this was you, a moment alone that he rarely had the pleasure of cultivating, and for the first time, allowing himself to get lost in. he felt the instinctive tightening of your hold with every small stutter in your movements, clearly not being as fluent in dance as he was, but that was fine. it was an excuse to do it again, just maybe. he embraced your hold all the same, a man usually averse to touch finding solace in an exception to the case.
"maybe next time, hm? i could teach you the foxtrot, the lindy hop. you have so much to learn. you could count me as jealous, cher."
"you're jealous? i'm over here stumbling over thin air!"
"learning a new dance is an art form, my dear. the feeling of perfecting something you've worked hard to achieve is simply unmatched."
he had lured the dance closer to the edge of the roof, keeping you oblivious and solely focused on your footing. it wasn't until he dipped you over the edge that you were smacked back into reality, yelping helplessly in surprise. he relished in the control, how visible the dynamic became when he witnessed the fear flash through your eyes and felt your grip tense against his desperately. he found it endearing in his own twisted way, and he only laughed before continuing on and pulling you upright, his grin wolfish and tinged with a golden glow as the music flowed through him. you couldn't help but reciprocate his laughter, your safety now ensured and his energy as infectious as ever. he was a potent indulgence, one you couldn't stray from.
"the adrenaline afterwards is just so... ah, well, you can probably feel something similar to it right now."
"you could've dropped me!"
"and yet here you are with me... still able to finish the song."
@ljsometimes - all rights reserved. please do not copy or plagiarise my works.
summary: you were a simple sinner running a newspaper business in the entertainment district. you prided yourself on your integrity, even publishing the faults of the media overlord himself! so when he invited you to the vee tower under the guise of a business opportunity, you thought nothing of it, however vox had other ideas. fucking his rival into submission, broadcast for the entire district to see. reputation? tarnished.
pairing: vox x fem!reader
type: oneshot - smut [18+ only]
warnings: smut [obvi], p n v, non-consentual filming, bj.
for a business that prided itself on innovation and efficiency, the elevator ride up to vox's office was unhurried to say the least. but maybe that was just you; the nervous pit in your stomach weighed you down, slowing you to an agonising pace that only served to induce psychological torture as you ascended the building. you felt timorous, to put it mildly. the notion of accepting a meeting with the man who you so vehemently criticised in the past was almost laughable to you, though you clung to the hope of this venture being somewhat productive at a minimum. you valued integrity in your work, publishing a truthful narrative that contradicted the nature of hell itself, and you hoped that by striking a business deal with such an influential sinner, you'd be able to reach a broader audience. you hoped he would show reason, as a man working in a field similar to your own. maybe it was misguided optimism, a projection of your own morals onto a man that clearly lacked many, but your drive to make your mark and convey the truth outweighed any rationale in your mind.
"oh... how did that get like..."
you peered into the reflective doors of the elevator as you muttered to yourself in disapproval, noticing a small flaw amongst your meticulously put-together ensemble. your collar had been flicked upward on the left, for how long, you didn't want to dwell on it. your brow furrowed in concentration as a single hand, shaking with disquietude, reached up to adjust it, though the moment you moved to do so the elevator doors opened with a soft ping, like it was a cruel joke to reveal you in such a state of disarray and obvious tension.
the doors parted to display an expansive room, coated in deep blues as though to mimic the large aquarium that took up the entirety of the opposing wall. sharks, seemingly adorned with various degrees of cybernetics, circled around in the vast tank, disappearing into the blue depths only to reappear dangerously close to the glass. it was as though they were overseeing the room, and paired with the myriad of surveillance screens dotted around the space, it was difficult to shake the feeling of being observed from every angle. and in the centre of it all lay an expansive desk ladened with everything from paperwork to figurines. perhaps the most noticeable of all was the nameplate in the centre engraved with the name "vox," and if it weren't for the chair facing away from you swivelling back and forth, you would've thought he wasn't there at all.
the first step into the office felt the heaviest, echoing and shattering the silence in the room like a statement of its own. you took a deep breath as you forced your expression into one of neutrality, then took a further few strides inside, willingly walking into the lion's den with all the confidence you could muster. you were here to make a statement yourself, and you would be damned if you allowed your nerves to speak for you. the chair behind the desk stilled at the noise of your shoes clacking atop the polished floor, though you weren't acknowledged immediately. you came to a standstill a few feet away from his desk, the silence offering no clarity on the mood of the meeting, leaving you all the more unsettled amongst the uncertainty.
"mr vox. you requested to-"
"did i say you could speak?"
his voice rang out from behind the chair, smooth, authoritive, and unbothered at your arrival, the interception of your greeting causing the pit in your stomach to curl tautly. from his voice alone you could perceive the arrogant air that he carried with him, and you found yourself momentarily questioning how much worth this meeting had. you shook yourself from that train of thought however, choosing to push on and dissect the positive outcomes from this otherwise less than promising venture. with a kick of his leg, the chair spun around lazily, revealing the azure glow of his face that had you fleetingly stunned.
"ha! i'm just messing with you! i mean, seriously, the look on your face is just... oh, you wouldn't get it, would you? c'mon, just take a seat, already. i don't like people wasting too much of my time."
he ushered you over with a swipe of his wrist, a gesture that pulled you in like a trained dog. tentatively, you slowly seated yourself on the empty chair across from him, one that lacked the grandiose design and comfort of its already occupied counterpart. you could see the mood shifting on his face by the second; one moment thrilled by your discombobulation, the next stern and calculated, eyeballing every stutter in your movement as though each millisecond was precious time lost. it was by design, and you pieced that together quite quickly. it was to keep you on your toes, to keep you guessing, and to ensure his dominance and superiority reigned over the interaction. despite knowing this, you couldn't shake yourself out of your own timidity. it was justified, you thought. he was an overlord, after all.
you fished a small notepad from the pocket of your pants, flipping it open with your thumb as you began to skim through the pages. they were basic notes, points you intended to make throughout the business deal, propositions you wanted to lay on the table, and you prayed that the notes would be able to ground you enough to hold your own against a man clearly so egocentric. you tapped the pad against his desk to neaten the pages, a daring move to touch his property so casually. you wanted to convey that you were unworried, even if your nervous tells were bolstering over your attempts to overcompensate.
"so... i was hoping i'd be able to discuss a few things with you! i'm really optimistic that we can come to some sort of-"
"hold on, hold on. care for a drink first? i can call up and get you anything you want... and then some."
"...agreement."
you could feel vox's scrutinising gaze intensify as you followed through with ending your sentence, disregarding a second obtrusion of his with thinly-veiled annoyance. it was clear that wasting time was alright, as long as it was set on his terms. you squirmed slightly under his stare, unblinking, unrelenting, before finally forcing down your irritation with a deep breath that threatened to rupture your lungs. you allowed the tension to dissipate before responding with a deceptively polite smile, one that withheld the chaos of emotions that screamed beneath the surface.
"oh, uh... no. thank you. i'm fine, really."
"shame. my business, my rules... and we can drink on the job. well, i can, anyway. i was just... extending you the same courtesy. but fine, go on."
it was this sort of behaviour that would have had you scrawling at your notepad by now, pointing out every character flaw and preparing the next story that scandalised the vees, but you refrained. for once, you put your integrity on the backburner in favour of the prospect of a future advantage, to play the long game for your own personal benefits. you were a walking contradiction amongst hell when it came to your publishings, and yet the drama you stirred up with your blatant, unbiased narratives were what the sinners gorged upon greedily and brought them back for more. you spurred on downfalls in your exposés, ignited fueds with the simple act of printing ink onto paper. you had caused trouble for the vees before, which is why you were so bewildered by the offer to converse with the head of the business himself. you were admittedly out of your element, right where he wanted you.
"so, i was hoping we could come to an agreement! ideally, i'd like a broader audience, which i know is something you can provide. but i also understand that what i've published hasn't always... aligned with your business, let's say. i was hoping we could come to a compromise, name a few prices, and walk away from this satisfied."
you watched vox's expression alter into something unreadable as you spoke. whether he approved or wanted to laugh you out of the door for taking the initiative in the proposition was unknown to you, though you could've swore his screen brightened when you offered him the opportunity to name his price. you set your notepad down onto the desk slowly, waiting with baited breath for his next play. all you received at first was a hum, neutral and reserved, with an eyebrow cocked upward. you chewed the inside of your cheek with a mix of anticipation and dread, awaiting his reply.
"we can certainly arrange... something that suits us both. i have the reach, the audience you want, but you? oh... but what can you give me in return? you need the proper bait to catch the right fish, after all."
one particular shark behind him, the largest, the most domineering you had seen in the aquarium, had come to a stop at the glass. it peered down at you expectantly with its vermilion-eyed gaze, head-on as though to emphasise its menacing nature through silent confrontation. your stare had wandered up to it, which only served to pin you to the chair in a state of submission, as if vox's scrutinising watch wasn't imposing enough. upon eyeing him for a moment, you noticed how his sharpened claws drummed almost impatiently against the desk like a ticking time bomb, like you were expected to know exactly what he wanted. it took a moment for a suggestion to come to mind, one which you hated, but one that you could just about bring yourself to temporarily submit to the idea of if it meant long-term success.
"i'm guessing you'd want something like an erasure of my previous criticisms? you'd want the slate wiped clean. that would benefit you."
"'atta girl! now we're getting somewhere! but how about we really sweeten the deal, hm? no use bringing you all the way up here without making it worth your while, right doll?"
he surveyed you up and down in one slow, agonising sweep as he spoke, his boundless confidence only bolstering more so as he took over the stakes of the deal. with a fluid push of his taloned hands against the desk, he smoothly rose from his seat, looking down at you perched on your inappreciable seat below, the perspective fundamentally screaming "power imbalance." seeing you so small before him, so subservient over the possibility of getting something out if this scratched a long overdue itch in his brain he couldn't help but audibly sigh over. he appeared to be, for a moment, contented with the mere sight, but vox knew he could toy with a few more of your strings before snapping them. it was far too tempting, far too deserved. you were a pretty, sweet thing, determined and hopeful, which made his belated revenge all the more appealing to his twisted mind.
the pet name threw you even more off balance than you already felt, instantly alerting you to the underlying suggestion that had been gradually seeping into his tone, to his gaze that raked over your form pruriently, growing less subtle with each sweep of his eyes down your body. you swallowed thickly as you came to the revelation, taking a deep breath to better anchor yourself before the overlord. surely you were overthinking. despite the scandals you had extensively covered about him in your work prior to this, you were almost certain that he wouldn't go that far. almost. though could you ever truly be certain of something if you felt the need to convince yourself so vehemently? his advances at this point were becoming harder to deny. his confidence now served more to posture and appeal rather than to intimidate, though you felt unquestionably beneath him regardless.
"i was thinking... i give you exposure, support, and to top it off, i'll even get my supporters off your back! but in return, you retract everything, and i... cash in a small favour. just to balance it out, you understand."
"a small favour?"
"yeah. you heard. really, i think you'll like it."
he leisurely began to circle around the desk towards you, his pointed shoes clacking across the floor and ringing through your ears. the quietness in-between was deafening, enough to drive you mad under the taut pressure of his presence. his hand lazily dragged along the wood, landing on his nameplate and tapping it once, twice with a clink of his nails, as though to remind you of his position here. vox hunched his posture downward and leaned in, purposefully closing the distance to your face with a smug grin that only seemed to stretch as he noticed your breath hitch, batting against his screen before disappearing into nihility. you could smell the strong fumes of his cologne within the proximity, musky, thick, and overcompensating like he had doused himself in it. it consumed your senses, ensuring that you were utterly, undeniably aware of his company in your space.
"admittedly, the favour is less than professional. but you look like you can handle it. you..."
his eyes once again raked down your form, far less shamelessly now, making his intent clear. the corners of his grin tugged up sharply, pleased with the sight before him.
"...look like you were made for this. we can keep it under the board. your pretty little head won't have to worry about any of that."
your eyes widened as you picked up on what he was implying. your mouth dried at the notion and you stared up at him in disbelief, rendered helpless from the idea he had yet to even put into words. he wanted to extort sex from you, to use your body however he saw fit to compensate for the imbalance of the deal - a small favour. he had really downplayed it, defining the act of sex with him as something almost meaningless in a deal like this, a miniscule price to fork over in exchange for the benefits you wanted in your grasp. it was a perverted form of currency. he watched you with a predatory gaze as you worked to determine your next move. you noticed a barely perceptible hum emitting from him, caused by something more machine than sinner, calm and unhurried in frequency.
"i don't... personally think this is the best idea, mr vox, uh, sir. you're saying it like it's so simple..."
"ha! but it really is, isn't it? c'mon, i mean, i doubt a girl like you who's invested her afterlife in something so... outdated ever gets some action! really, i'm doing you a favour here. your benefits still outweigh mine, and yet here i am demonstrating generosity."
you didn't get a second to respond before vox closed the minute gap between you both, kissing you with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from the infamous overlord. the tenderness lulled you in. you caught your reservations slipping away from your grasp no matter how much you grappled to keep them there, and it frustrated you. you huffed into the kiss with resignation and irritation, more over your own weakness than the feeling of his lips against yours. the feeling was something you began warming to, welcoming, even, with reluctant arms. his tongue swiped once against your lower lip before taking it into his mouth, biting down like a subtle command for entry. you obeyed pliantly, your lips parting to invite him in, and he followed immediately. the kiss, deeper now, sent jolts of static that danced along your tongue and burned, hazing the boundary between pleasure and pain in a way that drove you over the edge. it contrasted the tempting softness of the kiss that he led, demonstrating the two sides that he could orchestrate into the intimacy if you desired. he wanted you amenable. it was designed to entice. he ensured one last curl of his tongue around yours before he pulled away, letting the shock of the static linger like a thread that you had the option of pulling back for more, if you wished. your eyes were blown open, lips agape wanting more, inviting opportunity.
"you can ensure nothing gets out about this, right?"
"obviously. you should know my power by now. you've been hooked on writing about me for months, after all. think, doll."
he leaned back against the desk, not before weaving his fingers between your locks to guide your face along with the movement. you almost stumbled out of your chair, grasping the arm rests for support as he pulled you closer. the chair rolled along the floor as you practically crawled forward; you could only imagine just how pathetic you looked from his view, so docile and willing under the overlord in comparison to the scathing reports you published about his name. you didn't want to think about how diminished your moral compass was right now, you only wanted the long-term results of this deal. or so you told yourself. you weren't ready to admit that you found being so pliant for him enjoyable to any degree, you weren't willing to acknowledge that your mouth wetted at the sight of the obvious strain in his pants that he had brought your face to.
vox hummed approvingly as you pressed your palm against his thigh, fingers hooking into the cologne-doused clothing lightly for stability. his body didn't ease under your touch, not that he was tense, but rather exhilarated, and it only became more apparent the moment you grappled yourself against him. his leg warmed against your touch and kicked out slightly to give you ample room, the other bounced slowly against the floor with anticipation. you excited him. the state of your submission only served to egg on his arousal and boost his fathomless ego. eagerly he urged your face towards him, your lips and chin briefly skimming the bulge of his cock restrained painfully by his suit. it was a subtle motion, one that teased him, torturously so.
"you gonna do something about that, babe?"
he pressed your mouth harder against his clothed cock, so much to the point you could feel the throbbing pulse of its need through the fabric. your mouth hinged open with a small, muffled gasp, tongue dragging across the cloth of his pants, marking a wet trail that darkened in its wake. you pressed a kiss against the concealed length, then another, tracing a sinful path towards his belt which clinked against your teeth upon impact. vox found himself indulging in the torturously slow provocation of your mouth for a few fleeting moments, only to quickly grow impatient of your teasing and rip your head back by your hair. you gasped at the painful sting as he lolled your head to face him. his brow knitted in frustration as he fumbled with the belt with his free hand, the heaviness of his breathing intensifying with every slip of his fingers against his arousal in the process. he finally tugged the leather free from its metal confines, not caring that the edge whipped at your cheek punishingly as it unbuckled. with a satisfied sigh, he flicked open the button of his pants and tugged down his fly, the fabric bagging around the tighter points of his thigh.
"i said i don't like people wasting too much of my time. i'm doing you a favour, but i'm still a busy man."
you reached a hand up that hooked around his waistband, shaky and tentative, only for vox to grip your wrist and forcefully guide your movements with one swift pull. his cock sprung free, hitting the shirt over his stomach and staining it with a blotch of precum. your palate wetted as you salivated at the length with wicked greed, uncaring about the morals that would've vehemently objected at the sight. your mind was in a haze of lust too potent to reign in. he had successfully managed to break you down to your most debauched instincts, and you were unsure whether to loathe him or take him whole.
you decided upon the latter, licking a long stripe from the base to the tip. his cock twitched eagerly at the moistened warmth of your tongue, speaking more for him than his words cared to do. a soft groan was elicted from his mouth as his hips bucked softly in response to your touch, the friction growing eager and less restrained with your tongue nearing the throbbing tip of his length. you enveloped your lips around the tip slowly, sucking it with a pornographic smack, spit pooling around his cock and dribbling down to the hilt. dampened breath fanned his arousal teasingly when you pulled back, taking a moment to observe the heaving of his chest and drooped eyes before going back for more. you took him further now, inch by agonising inch until he hit the back of your throat with a burn, and even then, that wasn't enough to satiate vox's greed. his hips slammed desperately into your face, lips pressed mercilessly against the smooth skin of his public bone as he rutted into the depths of your throat. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, coating your lashes in a thin layer of salty water that threatened to trickle down. you choked out moan after muffled moan, mouth stuffed with his hardened length. desperately, you tried to keep up with the brutality of his pace, hollowing your cheeks to suck him only to falter after one particular mean thrust. your hips ground down wantingly against the chair you perched upon, straining to relieve yourself with the friction. it only made vox laugh in response, breathy and sadistic as he fucked your mouth with a pace that translated the secret animosity he held for your meddling in his affairs.
"so needy... hah-ah... you really needed a good fuck to loosen you up, huh? i'll- hah... tend to that..."
his pace quickened over time, evolving into something far more brutilising and desperate than before. you noticed the stutter in his pace, how he opted to grind into your mouth like he was in heat, straining to keep up with his own libido as he got closer. your eyes were near reflective at this point, glossy like petite mirrors that fluttered with need and bore open your depravity clear for him to see. he revelled in your servility beneath him, loving how you so willingly allowed him to use your face like his own personal fuck toy. a satisfied groan escaped him as he watched your face contort with each slam of his cock in your throat, savouring your expressions as you gagged and struggled to take him with every burning stroke. the salty tang of precum flooded your taste buds as he neared his peak, brushing across your tongue and jamming the flavour down your throat. you were so beneficial when he was the one pulling your strings, it was almost a shame he had to cut them off. it was a tragedy you chose the path that you did, truly.
"fuck... c'mon babe- ahh... you know how to swallow, don't you? your mouth is... fuck... so good, you can... you can do it for me, right?"
and you obeyed as a soft, uncharacteristic moan signalled his peak, lapping up every last drop of his cum as it gushed down your throat with a vicious intensity. faint traces of electricity sparked in your mouth and shocked you with each swallow of his seed, a painful form of torturous pleasure that served as a reward for your compliance. but he was far from done. his cock still remained stubbornly hard even while being pulled from your mouth; he guided your head back with renewed tenderness, the grip in your hair loosened and gentle. the contrast was enough to bring upon mental whiplash, and he revelled in seeing you so lost. he didn't want you thinking, not when he could fuck the words he wanted out of you, instead. the tangled hand in your hair freed itself from the restraints of your locks and glided down to hook under your chin. his thumb pressed into your skin as he urged you off the chair, directing you up and beside him before he pulled you in for a kiss. you could still taste the lingering flavour of his cum, now mixing with the sweet mint and static of his tongue. he derived a secret pleasure from tasting himself, and he ensured the exploration of your mouth was thorough before ushering you onto the desk with a firm push.
"you're really pushing my morals, mr vox."
"i'll take that as praise. i trust you have more in you now that your mouth ain't so choked up?"
he murmured as he lay you flat atop the desk, diving back in to devour your mouth with his own in a more feverish display. he wanted you exposed, and so he dragged a pointed finger down across your blouse, popping off the buttons with little resistance and subjecting your flushed skin to the cool air of the office. you would've cared about the impracticality of the action earlier, just how you had worked to smoothen out your collar, but his touch was enough to relent your cares entirely. you had become as greedy as him, consumed by the fixation of getting off, of being used, of being pleasured. he tugged the cloth down past your shoulders and you could hear the small tears of the fabric pulling apart from the pressure. your bra was next to follow, being tugged down below your ribs and mercifully being left in-tact. vox parted from the kiss and delved his head downward, licking a long stripe down your sternum that tingled in his wake and caused your back to arch into him shamelessly.
"oh... you don't just want this, you need this, huh. glad i took pity on the poor paper girl. i've got you..."
he cooed tauntingly against your skin, a hand slinking down towards the waistband of your pants and snapping it against your skin with a harsh thwack of the elastic. the other reached for your tits, kneading them between his fingers one after the other, pinching the hardened buds in a way that elicted the most delicious moans from you. they were perfect, and he hoped the public would share the same opinion.
the button on your pants unclasped with a swift swipe of his claws, your clothes submitting to him as much as you were. he dragged down your fly with excruciating slowness, just to build up the anticipation, no matter how much self-restraint it took from him. with a fluid tug he yanked them down, pulling your panties with them that were drenched in your own slick. his thumb brushed once over the dampened fabric as his face grew infintesimally more smug, pleased with the clear reaction he had gotten from you. he positioned himself over you with a content sigh, his fingers delving to your heat, barely dipping his fingers in your soppy cunt before circling your clit in slow, agonising drags. the view was magnificent - ideal. he loomed over you, his touch purposeful yet scarce, smirk self-assured and sinister as he orchestrated the reactions he needed from you.
"v-vox... oh, fuck... please, please..."
"dropping the honorifics now? i suppose i can forgive it."
his hand briefly abandoned your aching core, much to your vocalised dismay, reaching for his cock to give it a few selfish pumps of his attention before settling it at your entrance. you gasped at the warm feeling of his length, barely pressing into you and yet undeniably present. his free hand gently positioned your face to look directly into his, a silent command, before retreating to your quivering hips to push them down, to keep you from squirming away. in one sharp thrust he buried himself to the hilt, opting to ignore the seering pain you felt as he stretched you out without mercy. you choked out a moan that only seemed to break apart as the tip hit that sweet spot inside, and at that moment, vox just laughed. a laugh of mockery, a laugh of victory. he had you right where he wanted you. he gave you little time to adjust to his size, his hips slowly beginning to rock into a steady rhythm.
"hah... fuck, baby, that's it. takin' me so goddamn well, just look at you..."
the first few minutes were filled with vox forcing you to devote your sights onto him, slamming his cock into you so fiercely it didn't leave room for protest. he thrived on the attention, relished in every moan of his name and contortion of your face, but most importantly, he didn't want your head to roll back enough to spot the screens behind you. he wanted this to prolong, not just for his own lustful desire, but for the satisfaction of broadcasting more than enough of you beneath him to prove he had made his biggest critic into his biggest slut. he didn't want you to spot yourself splayed out on every screen, coincidentally from vox's exact point of view, not yet. he wanted to drag it out.
each thrust was punctuated by a desperate plea from yourself; a sobbing moan as he drove himself into you, a shameless whimper as he circled your clit coated in thick arousal, which to him, was the cherry on top of it all. the softer sounds were the true telltale signs of need, he thought, and he wanted everyone in the district to know you had resigned yourself to his mercy. though, not a single sign of vox was shown on the broadcast, save for two devilish fingers that had pushed down on your tongue and gagged you, forcing your sounds to ring all the more pathetically through what would've been the speakers, if they weren't conveniently muted in his office. god forbid he'd expose himself so intimately, but you? the screens perfectly displayed the bounce of your tits that matched the rhythm of the pornographic sounds of skin-on-skin. each detailed pixel made sure to seamlessly capture the pitiful expressions that he coaxed from you. val would've been proud of the work if he could've witnessed it for himself, and if he was lucky enough to be near a tv screen, maybe he already was.
"tell me... who's making you feel this good. who's fucking this pussy? hah... who does it belong to?"
"v... vox... vox! oh my god, you-"
your words latched themselves in your throat, refusing to leave your mouth as you noticed something. an echo of your own voice. behind you. vox stilled his movements, cock pulsing with unadulterated need inside you, deciding to take in your moment of horror and realisation in every detail. your head angled back as much as it could only for the blood to drain from your face as you spotted none other than yourself, pathetically splayed out and broadcast live. your jaw jutted in an attempt to speak, to protest, to defend yourself as though this was the most scrutinising interview of your career, only to be met with silence. before you could even attempt further, vox snapped his hips back into you with renewed force, laughing breathily, the satisfaction of watching you crumble setting a fire in him he didn't know he had. he smacked the side of your cheek in a display of mock praise, his victorious smirk and the pleasure that chased you despite everything rendering you silent upon impact.
"that's my girl! i don't think anyone could doubt that... especially when you sound so sincere."
your hands reached up in a desperate attempt to claw him off of you, to save yourself from further ridicule, though it only served to be futile. your arms instantly limpened and flopped back against the desk with a harsh thud, fingers twitching with any residual energy to protest that you had. his hand had dived down to your core, circling and pinching your clit with unmatched speed which subdued you perfectly. a familiar pressure began to build up inside of you, your moans growing to be more unapologetic in their nature as he ploughed into you with a pace designed to lull you back into submission. you hated how your walls clenched around him still, how you remained pliant under his touch despite the humiliation. and most of all, you hated that some repressed, deep-rooted part of you enjoyed it, how it coaxed your body into submission beneath the sadistic overlord.
"v-vox..."
you whimpered, calling his name with a deadly blend of reservation and pure lust. you were close, stupidly close, yet you didn't want to admit it outright, to put it into words for all of the district to hear. the emphasised sound of skin-on-skin and the shrill of your own moans echoing throughout the room only enforced that further. you hated how you still wanted to get off. you hated how your body betrayed you, caving to your urges, to him. the telltale signal of his pace stuttering in its frequency didn't get past you, nor did the twitching of his length that pulsed rught where you needed it most. he was close as well, getting off on your humiliation and dread shamelessly.
"aw... fuck... you close, doll? shameless. fucking- ah... whore for me, aren't you? go on, then. show the district who fucks you this good..."
his words were undeniably cruel, yet somehow they only spurred on your release more. his thrusts were erratic, deep, hips slamming and pressing his fingers harsher against your throbbing core as you came utterly undone around him. a moan ripped from your throat upon your release, creaming around his cock with an intensity you had never felt until that moment. the sound of squelching filled the room, as though to taunt you for your actions, and vox rode you through your high and chased his own with a satisfied smile. he came soon after with a suppressed groan, your walls still pulsing around him and milking him of all he was worth as he filled your cunt to the brim.
shared heavy breathing was the only noise that rang through the speakers for a moment before the screens were cut off, leaving you both in a deafening silence that allowed you to process what had just happened. vox pushed himself off of the desk as he reluctantly pulled out of you, causing your shared juices to leak from your hole and dribble out in a pathetic display before his eyes. you felt the faint zapping of his cum inside of you, painfully reminding you with each stinging jolt of the events that had just transpired. he had ruined your reputation, but arguably more so your body, feeling the ache between your thighs that needily clamped down on thin air. vox could be seen adjusting himself by the time you had pushed yourself upright, buckling his belt and smoothing out the seams in his clothing as though unperturbed by what had happened, like he hadn't just filled you and put your entire career to shame. he took one more lingering glance at the screens behind you, already reminiscing on his victory, before landing on you. his expression had altered into something neutral, stern, business-like once again.
"if you ever need a career change... you can trust me with that. now get the fuck out of my building."
@ljsometimes - all rights reserved. please do not copy or plagiarise my works.
