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highonakuweeds · 24 days

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FLFM (Part 5)

(A/N: will be continuing this on ao3 for the other parts :33)

Feign Lust to Fool the Masses

TAGS: fluff, reader is overworked and stressed, Vox is bad at feelings (and so is reader), denial is a river in Egypt

“This should be here.” You ordered, pointing at the newest product in the store before doing the same to an empty spot. Many sinners hurried to carry the things and place it where you told them to, not even a single peep in them.

“That shouldn’t be there.” You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance; do people not know how to organize their damn shit? You glared at the crooked placement of one of the cardboard cut-outs of Valentino and the new love potion he had concocted with Velvette, your arms crossed. That was enough to make one of the demons that worked at Voxtek straighten it, fixing their posture as they looked at you for approval.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “That’s okay. Oh, dear,” your lips curled into a grimace, disgust clear in your eyes as you stared at one of the broken computers on display. “Is this really how things are run here? Dear God, you’re lucky you have many supporters, otherwise this would not fly.”

Vox entered the shop with his usual grin, his eyebrows shooting up at your modifications of the place. “Hello, my dear (Name).” He called out, his smile slightly straining when you didn’t respond to him immediately.

“Uh huh yes hello, Vox, mi amor.” You acknowledged mindlessly, leaning forward to face a worker as they showed you a clipboard with loads of papers clipped on it. “Yes, that’ll do nicely; thank you.”

“I can see you’re busy.” He commented with a tight voice, looking around the bustling atmosphere of multiple sinners running around, trying to accommodate all of your commands. You replied to Vox with a sigh, muttering the demon you were talking to to leave you two alone. They nodded, and started walking towards one of the shelves, barking out the commands you fed them.

“What do you need, Vox?” You raised a brow as you crossed your arms, placing your weight on one hip. He studied your expression, and he found himself amused at your irritated demeanor today. Though, the more he read into it, it hadn't just been today; it had been the whole week.

“What,” he grinned, snaking an arm around your waist, making your eyes widen. “Am I not allowed to visit my so-called lover?”

You tried your best to not let your flusteredness show. Your facial expression was filled with skepticism as you responded to him. “...What’s the occasion?”

Vox’s smile dropped ever so slightly when you didn’t give into his flirting, whether it be fake or not. But just as he was about to sigh and complain about that like a baby, you slid your arm up from his chest to his shoulder, your eyes traveling around his vest. “Seriously, what’s the occasion?”

He seemingly froze at your fingers playing with the lapels of his coat, before clearing his throat. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around.”

You blinked at him, slightly shocked and in disbelief that he noticed your absence. “...I’ve been busy doing my job.” You narrowed your eyes faintly so that only Vox could see it. Your hand was a contradiction to your look, though, as it slid to rest against the junction between Vox’s shoulder and neck. You didn’t even have to do it; you just liked seeing Vox squirm.

His shoulders stiffened at your hand before he rolled his eyes. “I know that. But why are you so busy?”

You pouted your lips at him, edges of your lips curling into a small mocking smile. “Aw, does someone miss me?”

“Very funny, (Name); answer my question.”

Your smile faded quickly into a frown of annoyance; this man has no humor. “Ever since the new edition of headsets dropped, people have been buying it in bulk, and I have no idea why. And other than that, the people working here are so incompetent—” You cut yourself off with a deep sigh, regaining your composure. “Just some problems stacking up on each other, nothing I can’t handle.”

Vox believed you could handle everything given to you with no question. Your words were as smooth as his when convincing the masses, possibly even a bit better. You were always calm and professional; he liked that about you.

But just that. Definitely. Probably.

“Get a room!” Someone who had just stepped inside the store exclaimed, making their friend nudge them, and mutter, “it’d be better if they did it right here.”

“Oh, my fucking god you’re so right; that would be so hot.”

What the hell were they talking about? You wondered before you realized just how close you and Vox were, your bodies pressed against each other tightly. With slight heat on your cheeks, you quickly let go of him, and he hesitated to do the same. “Jesus.” You huffed out, an awkward smile adorning your face.

“Yeah.” Vox nodded, glancing around. He cleared his throat once more, the signature charismatic smile on his screen. “Well, I must get going now; I have to calm Val’s ass again.”

You let out a short cackle before nodding, shooing Vox away. “Go, then, and good luck.” He turned his head to look at you, scoffing at your words. “You’re going to need it.”

“Bye, babe.”

“See you later, darling.”

Those call signs rolled off your tongue so easily with how many times you’d had to call Vox that over the course of now 8 months. His little nicknames for you used to get you so flustered, but now you really couldn’t care less. It was a part of your daily life now; might as well normalize it.

Dear God, he better not be a part of your daily life forever. You would hate that. Despise it, even. Right?

—

“Uhm, Ms. (Name)?” Peppermint called out from outside your door after knocking, making you look up from paperwork. “Yes, Pep? You may come in.”

He did as he was allowed to do, holding a cup of iced coffee. You smiled warmly at him, confused as you tilted your head. “I didn’t order coffee.”

“Sir Vox ordered it for you.” He informed you, placing it on your desk, far away from the papers. “Vox?” You echoed, shock clear on your face. “Did he tell you why?”

Peppermint shook his head. “No, ma’am. He only told me to give it to you, and according to him, ‘under no circumstances can she refuse’.”

You glanced at the iced coffee, and scoffed; that sounded like Vox alright. “Thank you, Pep. And send Vox my gratitude.”

He nodded his head, and quickly left your room quietly. As soon as Peppermint closed the door, you whined, your forehead slamming onto the desk. What was Vox trying to do to your mind?

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t give you lavish gifts all the time. But this coffee felt different, somehow. It was from your favorite cafe in Hell (it was rare to find such a beautiful and cozy place in the underworld); you weren’t sure how Vox knew you liked the place, to be honest. It had been a while since you paid it a visit.

You gingerly held the cup, the condensation wetting your palms. He even knew your usual order there, too. You took a sip of it, immediately sighing in relief when you tasted that familiar feeling of comfort. It was quite funny to you, how expensive bracelets and dresses didn’t phase you but a singular coffee made your undead heart flutter.

Maybe you were experiencing palpitations from the coffee; it had been ages since you’ve drunk your last cup.

“Did she take it?” Vox asked, turning to look at Peppermint. His assistant glanced quickly at the cameras behind Vox; he was watching Alastor again. “She did, sir.”

“Good.” He turned back towards the mass array of cameras that showed the events of Hell in every angle, specifically towards the Hazbin Hotel (did they really think that would work? Fucking stupid.) After a couple of beats, Vox spoke again, his voice softer this time. “How is she?” “Still doing paperwork, sir.”

“It’s been 6 hours since she locked herself in her room.” Vox mumbled, using his hand to tell Peppermint to go away. He obliged and quickly left.

Vox had noticed the way you worked yourself to the bone, and it was beginning to concern him. Why the hell were you doing so much work? Fuck, why did you even have so much work? There are people in Voxtek for that reason! You didn’t have to do everything.

—

voxypoo

wear a comfortable dress later

go to the third floor in an hour

You heard a notification ping from your phone, making you rip your eyes away from the countless amount of paperwork you had on your desk. Jesus, even in Hell you can’t escape it.

You tapped on the screen to check who it was: Vox. He was telling you to basically dress up and meet up with him. You rolled your eyes, typing:

You

im busy

voxypoo

i dont care

see you babe

Your mouth went agape at his boldness; who the fuck does he think he is, bossing you around like this? And why were you actually going to follow him?

You stood up from your desk, wincing when your whole lower body pricked from you sitting down for too long. The paperwork can probably wait. Sure, you’d have to spend approximately another hour or two on it if you neglected it now, but you can sacrifice a bit of your time; you had all the time in the world.

Literally. You cannot die naturally since you’re already dead.

You slipped on the most comfortable dress you could find: a simple maxi dress with sleeves draped down and hugged your wrists.

You tied the bow that acted as a belt around your waist, its color the same as the dress as a whole: a deep teal. You had it even before your whole charade with Vox, and you figured it was the best fit for this surprise occasion.

You took the elevator to the third floor, your high-heeled foot tapping on the floor of it. You had to admit, you felt like you were about to vomit at the anxiety this stupid surprise was giving you.

With a ding, you reached your destination. The doors opened to a dimly lit room, the main focus of light being a candelabra situated in the middle of a relatively large dining table. Soft jazz played all across the room, making you feel so disgustingly fuzzy inside.

You almost laughed when you saw Vox not in his usual outfit. It was something a bit more formal, the red and black vest of his daily suit replaced by a deep blue waistcoat and a red and black tie. At least he still had his signature color palette.

“What’s all this?” You asked, skepticism thick in your voice as you walked slowly towards him, taking in the whole atmosphere. Vox rolled his eyes when he heard your doubt, putting his hand out in front of you for you to hold.

“You need to relax,” was all he told you, practically forcing you to sit down on the seat across his. Vox nodded at someone you couldn’t see, and in a snap, multiple waiters swarmed your table, one filling your glass with red wine, another placing a napkin on your lap, and one more laying down a plate of steak in front of you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in alarm and shock at the sudden actions, your eyes darting to Vox. He had such a cocky grin on his face; what would happen if you grabbed the fork that was to your left and stabbed his screen? You’ve always wanted to do so.

Vox had probably noticed the way your fingers itched towards the fork, and he showed you his hands as a way of telling you to calm down. “Relax.”

You let out a short laugh at his words, sighing in relief when the waiters left you two alone. You leaned against your chair’s backrest, tilting your head. “Why do you want me to do so so suddenly?”

Vox seemed to be at a loss of words, his brows twitching as he tried to formulate a sentence where it didn’t sound like he was in love with you. He wasn’t, and there was no reason for him to act when it was just the two of you. He only arranged this “date” to help you destress, and to not possibly blow up on random people.

“You just looked like you needed it. Now,” Vox started to slide into his steak, looking down at it before glancing at you. “Tell me about your day.”

What the fuck?? “Uhm,” you’ve never really done this before. Talked to someone about your day. You always deemed it to be just a boring way of small talk. “I had to restock the shelves again, so that was a good thing. What wasn’t a good thing, though, was the fact that one of the newer interns literally fucking made a whole shelf fall down on themselves! I made them pay for it before immediately killing them; what I did was mercy, really. They would not survive outside. And…”

Vox nodded along as you passionately talked about your day like it was word vomit. He liked hearing your voice, how sometimes when your emotions were at a high, it would do the same; it was cute— entertaining. It was entertaining.

The minutes turned into hours, and your rants turned into conversations, Vox having to gasp for breath at how hard he was laughing. Without even knowing, the two of you had finished a bottle or two of wine in a snap.

As you spoke, you slurred your words, giggling without any real reason. Vox noticed how your eyelids drooped every now and then before they snapped open, your mouth saying some nonsense.

“(Name), dear.” Vox called your attention, his voice soft and low. You blinked quickly, tilting your head a bit too much. “Hmmm? Yessss?”

Fucking hell. “I think you should go to bed now.” He grinned, standing up and walking towards you to help you. You groaned loudly, your breath smelling of wine. “I’m not tired, though!”

Vox rolled his eyes playfully, a soft smile on his lips. “Sure. And you didn’t just go through a bottle and a half of wine.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did. Now, let’s get you to your room.”

You smirked at him, pressing your body against his. “Oh, and what are you gonna do t’ me?”

Vox stared at you, not even stunned by your comment. The elevator dinged and he practically dragged your ass inside. “I’m going to help you to your bedroom,”

“Yes…”

“I’ll lay you down on your bed,”

Your eyes gleamed in excitement. “Uh huh?”

“And then I’ll tuck you in; you need sleep. I haven’t seen you go inside of your room in a week.” Vox watched the numbers go up as the elevator did the same thing. He grinned when he saw you pout and whine, slightly stomping your feet.

“Don’t raise my hopes up like that!” You gripped onto his arm for dear life. The last amount of control you had over your mind was screaming at you to not let go, otherwise you would fall down.

Vox scoffed, his vision following the opening doors. “I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re drunk.” Not without your previous consent.

“Why not!?” You whined, yawning afterwards.

He just laughed, shaking his head. “You are in desperate need of some rest. Did you know you haven’t stepped foot in your bedroom for around a week now? I’m concerned for you. I’ve…” Vox sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist before averting your gaze, glancing around your bedroom. “I’ve missed you.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds before laughing, using your pointer fingers to poke his waist. Fuck, how did you still remember the fact that he was ticklish there? “Ooooh, you missed me!” After a few bubbled laughter from you and a couple of “stop it”s from Vox, you sighed, staring into nothing that particular. “I missed you, too.”

Vox’s smile faltered. You were just drunk; you didn’t mean that. He laughed softly, sweeping you off your feet. You yelped at his action, huffing when he threw you on the bed.

“Rest, my dear (Name).” He told you, and you suddenly felt the need to do so. Or maybe it was just because he reminded you of your sleep-deprived schedule.

You sighed into the pillow, nodding. “Okay…”

You closed your eyes, only realizing now just how heavy your eyelids were. Vox’s chuckle echoed in your mind as he pulled your covers over your shoulder. His hand hesitated every so slightly as you felt its warmth hovering your cheek before he cupped it, his pinky grazing over your jaw. “Good night, (Name).”

You could’ve sworn you said it back, but at that point in time your consciousness was already slipping away from you. Oh, well; it’s the thought that counts.

#vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #fluff #literally how tf do I tag

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