Chapter Text
“I want to continue my fun!”
Said the prettiest human alive, prettily. Far and away the prettiest human dead, too.
Vox usually had a grand entrance shtick to intimidate the humans who summoned him, all smoke and fire and brimstone, but he got one twirl in before stopping and staring. He might’ve been drooling.
Strongest sinner in hell, huh? Could he do that? He could probably do that. He was the strongest sinner right now, and it wasn’t like Mister Beautiful gave him a timeline. What a shitty negotiator. Training Montage: Vox Style was a-go. If he turned out to suck, he’d just make a wand with a direct line to his power and hand that over. Vox plus anything would still be the strongest sinner. Occasionally killing people who annoyed Mister Beautiful wasn’t exactly a tall order.
“Sure thing, babe, and until you fulfil a certain task for me, I own you. Body and soul.”
And next he’d ask what the task was, and Vox would jokingly say marriage and use the time to come up with something bett-
“Deal.”
Holy shit.
Hooolyyy shit.
He got him. The pretty little human was all his!
A bright flash and a tiny hand looking comical in his big palm and it was done. No rules no conditions no holds barred no lube no protection-
Vox chuckled darkly.
“Alright then, let’s get started.”
The human - Alastor, his name was, according to the contract - didn’t notice his wires until they’d seized his wrists. He tugged with all his pitiful mortal might and found himself stuck fast. His brows pulled together adorably.
Vox could watch the dawning realization that his victims had made a mistake all day long.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Asked the supple human. Other wires freed him of his vest, went for the buttons on his shirt, his shoes, his belt. He tried to take a step back and discovered the ones restraining his ankles.
Vox stepped forward, grinning wide and tugging his bow tie loose.
“Didn’t you hear me say body and soul? It was one of literally two conditions. The first thing I’m gonna do to keep you strong in hell is teach you how to make a deal.”
Understanding was instantaneous with that hint. Gorgeous and quick. That wouldn’t be fair if the human wasn’t already his. Alastor’s gaze turned incredulous, bargaining, nervous.
“Surely a powerful demon like you has plenty of better options-”
“Hoho, than you?” He captured the human’s delicate jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forced his chin up and leaned in to admire his face. “No, you’re one of a kind.”
It was a good face. It was a great face. Fine like a doll, but one built in Japan by someone who had a boner the entire time and no Christian guilt to temper it. As feminine as masculine could get and still be firm, he had a profile that would’ve launched him into courtesan fame a few hundred years ago if it’d been on a woman (or still on a man, in more open societies), his high, wide cheekbones tapered into a slender chin with a dangerously sharp point. His forehead hidden by touchable curls, his eyes alluring as their default state, his lips an open invitation - at least for Vox. The exciting bite of sour candy flavoring his soul told Vox that getting so close to his teeth was a hazard to anything less durable.
“I’m flattered,” said the human, flashing those sharp points in a humorless smile, “but surely you’ve noticed there are some hopeless compatibility issues.”
He’d noticed, alright. Tripped against Vox between his grip and the wires holding his ankles, it was intoxicating how small he was. The human’s hair barely reached his chest, and he was rail thin, stretched out like taffy begging to be bent up on his tongue. Vox’s hand would wrap around his waist twice. Drool glitched onto his screen.
“You let me worry about that.”
His tongue slithered out, coiled under the human’s lovely chin and dragged up his cheek. A fist thumped on his ribs, bone-china jaw clenching tight until Vox let go and he could jerk away, his gaze flashing with disgust.
Oh yeah, he was gonna enjoy this.
He pushed his toy upright again, memorized every fresh inch of new exposure. Smooth, unblemished skin made to be kissed, bitten, bruised, whatever made him moan loudest, dark nipples he could think of lots of fun activities for, a respectable and sensitive cock and an ass rounder than he let his clothes show - all of it was his to play with.
The human thudded to the floor, suckable fingers bunched awkwardly into too-delicate fists, firelight glittering in his angry eyes. Vox held his knees apart and his shy cock and pillowing balls did their level best to hide the tight hole behind them.
“Look at you. Satisfaction guaranteed!”
Vox hopped with giddy delight, let his wires strip off his blazer, belt, and vest. He dropped to his knees between restrained ankles and if looks could fucking kill, damn.
“Come on, don’t look so miserable!” He cheered, catching up slim thighs in his comparatively massive hands. “Think of me as the Genie, big, blue, and baby,” he spread Alastor’s legs wide and lowered his face between them, “you ain’t never had a man like me.”
“Aha-!?”
The pretty human was already acquainted with his tongue, so the yelp of shock as it rolled over his puckered hole was flattering. Inexperienced, maybe? How sweet. Not for long.
The human’s back snapped into an arch as he sank it deep, hot and pulsing and thick and dexterous enough to-
“Ah!”
hit all the right spots. Curls tossing and toes curling, the human’s legs jerked inward, his soft, delicate thighs pressing hard against Vox’s thumbs. He squirmed, recovering enough to glare as Vox drew back to speak.
“Careful now,” he warned, smirking. “These claws are sharp.”
Alastor keened at the second plunge and hell yeah, this human was his new favorite thing. Every playful curl of his tongue had him writhing, his nails scraping through his own blood on the wood floor, and gasping, choked-off cries torn from his throat. Vox shoved his legs up further, forced his way deeper, earned a quivering wail of displeased pleasure. The better it felt the more he scrabbled to get away, tried to close up like a clam, signaled exactly where Vox should focus his energy to make those high cries higher and shakier. He had half a mind to spend the whole night with his human’s asshole fluttering around the base of his tongue, drive him higher and higher until he begged for release. But they had time for that later.
Alastor wet and dripping with his spit, his cock leaking against his stomach, Vox reluctantly withdrew, reaching for his mostly undone pants. There was just something satisfying about pulling his cock out with his hand instead of his wires, especially since it made him sit back and that meant he got to watch the pretty human’s dazed eyes go wide like that at the sight.
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“No! Ah-”
The hot blue head caught on his loosened rim. The human wrenched in his bindings like a worm about to be hooked. Vox bit his lip. This was gonna feel so good.
“It won’t fit!”
“Oh it’ll fit.” Vox slid his hands around the human’s tiny hips, lifted them for a better angle. “Nothing a little demon magic can’t take care of.”
The human’s mouth fell open almost as wide as Vox forced his ass to spread as he speared in, nice and slow. Graceful limbs spasmed, every muscle tense, the wires holding him pulled taut. His body clung sweet and tight around Vox’s thick cock as it pushed in, pressed up against his narrow belly, light blue visible through his skin in the dim cabin, the human’s natural limits giving way to the extra space Vox made for himself to nestle deliciously deep inside him.
“Oho yeah!” Vox shouted triumphantly when he bottomed out. “Fuck yes! Who needs heaven when I’ve got you? How’s it feel? Got my cockhead between your lungs and I’m crushing your prostate like a walnut in a nutcracker - I’m fucking amazing, right?”
Gasping wetly, the pretty human whined. His eyes rolled, formerly glittering anger clinging to his eyelashes as tears. Vox chuckled, swiping at one dark crescent gently.
“Left in a little sting and a little ache to give you the authentic experience.”
He settled more comfortably with his knees tucked on either side of the human’s torso, caught him up with one hand around his waist and, just for fun, tucked the other behind his head to feel the softness of his hair.
“You’re so thin you’re like a fleshlight,” Vox quipped merrily, and set about jerking the human over his cock.
Alastor’s cry was less of a cry and more of a squeal until his hands flew up to cover his mouth, muffling it into a high moan as he clenched and twitched noticeably around Vox’s quick thrusts.
“No covering your mouth. Squeal for me, beautiful.” He shortened the wires holding his wrists, got back the tail end of the piercing sound. “My fat cock’ll make you come your freaky occult-loving brains out.”
The little human’s chest heaved for air, his face contorted in the nicest mixture of ecstasy and anguish, and Vox was blinded by an overpowering urge to touch him as if he wasn’t already balls-deep in his gut. Every pore, every strand of hair, every taste bud and cell, he’d touch it all, mark it as his-
Alastor bowed with a yell Vox could only think to describe as tormented, a second harsh tremor shaking him like a vibrator.
“Another one? You really are a freak, aren’t you?”
His jaw slack, he panted short, crushed moans until Vox shifted and drove in harder.
“No more!”
Strips of wood came up under his nails and Vox laughed cruelly.
“This body belongs to me now,” he growled. “I can use it as long as I want for whatever I want.”
The human twisted, keening again through clenched teeth, sweat dripping down his willowy frame. Worn out, he collapsed on a sob, trembling and moaning at each punishing thrust, panting heavily, his cheeks wet.
“That’s it, just relax and give in.”
He changed his grip, curled his fingers around the human’s hips again, this time gathering his thighs in his palms to pin them up with the same hold. He stretched the thumb of each hand over the opposite leg to lock them in place, keep him positioned just right for use.
“And let me at that tight little hole.”
He ground in deeper than he’d managed yet and the human jolted, shooting come onto his own chin.
The plea was in his whimpers this time, uncomfortable and desperate.
“Oh no, you're not done.”
A sprinkle of demonic pixie dust had him squirming on a vexed cry, his dick throbbing back to life. Vox held a thread of power on it, kept him from coming untouched again even though fuck that was sexy. Maybe it was a ploy to get him to come faster, but fucking hell it’d worked. He picked up the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip and pounding in savagely as he chased the edge.
“Take it, take all of my fat cock you gorgeous slut!” He babbled, grinding over every sensitive spot he’d found and feeling the human yank at the intangible chain of power throttling his cock. “How do you like that, huh? How's it feel being a cocksleeve for the biggest dick you've ever tasted? Maybe I'll shove it down your throat sometime, watch you choke on it.”
The mental image had him twitching: those pretty open lips leaking spit, tears running hot down his face like they were now, his throat instead of his tiny belly distended around his cock. Vox traced a claw over his cheek, down his silent throat.
“Can’t even scream anymore, can you? Got too wound up with me holding that orgasm in check.”
God he was so pretty. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he sold beauty for a living. This beauty was wild, though, strange and untamed and addictive. He leaned back, his hips losing their rhythm.
“FFFuck I'm so close... gonna fill you up like a cream horn, make you earn that twink title! C'mon baby, c'mon, just a little more…” he let go of the thread, let his little diamond crack. “Give me a good squeeze,” he moaned, and he barely felt it before the look of rapture on Alastor’s face had him whiting out.
Come leaked out of the human’s hole where he’d collapsed to the floor. Didn’t make the cabin all that messier, now that Vox looked around. He smoothed his blazer with a happy sigh.
“That was a blast, gorgeous. I gotta get back to work, but I’ll make sure to pencil in a longer appointment next time.”
There was a short, tense silence. The human painstakingly propped himself up on his elbow, incredulous horror in his gaze.
“What the hell do you mean next time?”
“What do you mean what do I mean? I mean next time I come to fuck you, duh.”
“Wh…” Dark eyes blazed above a shaky, grimacing smile. Vox smirked.
“Did you forget the terms again?” Swooping over, he thunked down by the human’s feet, crawled up his naked form to leer into his face. “You're my pretty plaything now.”
The human shook. Prettily, like he did everything. Vox grinned.
“'Tll next time.”
Alastor looked up.
The gun fired.
The bullet pinged and suddenly there was no hunter or dog, only Vox shaking and blowing on his gunpowder-smudged fingers.
“Wh-hoa, that was close! You’re lucky I was watching!”
He spun around, preening and awaiting his praise. The pretty human narrowed his eyes.
“Shouldn’t you have let me die so my soul would be under your control sooner?”
“Ohhh… right.” His shoulders drooped. “Shit.”
A beat of silence in the woods. He crossed his arms and straightened, smiling magnanimously.
“Oh well, I guess I can be patient. Who knows if you’ll still be this pretty in hell anyway.”
He stepped up to the lovely little creature struggling with his burdensome, bland-looking victim. It felt like looking at a chipmunk attempting to make off with a whole picnic basket.
“Seems like you had a hard day. Let me give you a hand,” he snapped his fingers and did away with the unsightly dead guy ruining the mood. The human looked at his empty hands, then around the glade in confusion. “And maybe a little more.”
He caught artisan-delicate wrists and pinned Alastor against the tree that had almost gotten him killed, earning a grunt of agitation right before the rub of his knee between Alastor’s thighs got him a moan.
“Like that?”
“Fuck you,” the human snapped, glaring, but it was weak with his eyebrows trembling to stay out of a twist of pleasure and his hips twitching against his leg.
“Quick to respond today. Does killing turn you on? It always did give me a little chub.”
He had already been thick, maybe he’d been hard before the whole near-death business. It was a struggle to figure out how he’d maintained it while scrawny little arms tried to clean up that hideous lump, but everybody had their kinks-
Vox! We’re gonna be late!
“Fuck,” with a reluctant sigh, he let his human go. He stumbled gratifyingly at his first attempt to regain his footing. “Sorry doll, duty calls. I was kinda in the middle of something and just thought I’d take a gander at that face before I had to deal with Maestro, ugh. Think about me,” he nodded to the wet patch in the human’s pants, winked, and zapped himself back to hell.
“What is with you and that human?” Valentino groused as he strode by half-naked. “Can you even make him the strongest sinner in hell?”
“Have you ever known me to fail at anything?”
“Spanish.”
“I’m not trying with Spanish. Anyway, why’d you call me back if you’re still not dressed!?”
“Because if I hadn’t, you would’ve been fucking that twink again and we really would have been late!”
Alright, fair.
“Ugh, fine, just hurry up.”
On screen, the human cursed. He shoved his hand into his pants and Vox slammed the virtual record button.
He was doing it all wrong. Fine technique, but no enjoyment. No playing around, no fun. He tacked sitting the human on his lap and toying with his cock until he cried onto his list of plans for this relationship. Assuming the idiot managed to survive long enough and not get hunted as game. He’d have to keep an eye on him. A real close eye.
He spilled on the ground, cursing again, a grimace on his lips. Yeah, loser, try not treating it like a race, Vox huffed to himself.
“Alright, I’m ready! Let’s go!”
“Coming, coming…”
Alastor had a cigarette in his mouth. Was patting his clothes. Patted them again. Thunked his head back against the tree in frustration. Either he forgot the lighter or lost it in his lugging.
Smirking as he exited the room, Vox snapped his fingers and delivered the spark up along their exciting new link.
On screen, unwatched, Alastor jerked back from the blue crackle that could only belong to one creature.
“Go away!” he shouted at the air, flinging his cigarette into the grass. He shoved his hands into his hair, tucked himself into the base of the tree.
“What’s wrong with me…?”