I TURN 21 NEXT WEEK SLAYYYYYYYUH

I love when people write Vox pathetic ❤️

Boomerang (part 4)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.

Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."

He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.

A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."

His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.

This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.

He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"

But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.

He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.

Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.

A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.

With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.

When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.

"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.

Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.

And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.

Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.

Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.

"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.

Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?

Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.

"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But—"

"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.

"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.

On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.

"Oh, come on."

****

The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.

He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.

Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?

"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"

Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"

Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.

"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.

Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.

Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.

He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.

The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.

He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.

A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"

The line went dark, cutting off the call.

Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.

Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.

****

After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.

He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.

Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.

You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.

That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.

For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—

"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.

"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"

"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.

"I—What?" His grin twitched.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.

Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.

"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."

You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."

"But?" You said quietly.

"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.

He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.

"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."

He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.

You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."

He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.

"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"

“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”

“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.

A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.

Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.

“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”

Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.

For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.

But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."

"Really?" You said incredulously.

"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"

****

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111 @lucasisstupid @lu-ferri12 @fandom-queen37 @ilunapb @skyeliteratures @shannoncosplay @da-disappointment @memospacexx @crazyforbarnes

YIPPEENCJKVFNNDND✨✨✨✨✨✨

YIPPEE

My first crushes ever TOGETHER!?

DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE dir. Shawn Levy (2024)

I’m gonna cry

red wine supernova photoshoot, chappell roan. 6/18/2023

I'm about to bust

Knight has to go in a trip, makes sure his beautiful lover is nice and satisfied before he leaves 🥰

BABE i was literally thinking of something spicy so i decided to merge it with this ask sksksk

CW: SMUT, different sex positions, breeding kink, marking

"Have you heard of the new book the king ordered?"

"No. Pray tell, what is it? Is it another bodice-ripper for the queen?"

The women around the table giggle in delight. You merely shake your head, continuing to peel potatoes.

"No, no, much more interesting. I heard it comes all the way from India." The women 'oo' and 'ah', sharing glances. "The wordsmith read it himself before the king paid. He said it was very interesting."

"Oh, please! Tell us! My heart can't take it."

"Alright, alright." She leans in to the group, the other women mimicking her action. "The wordsmith said that the book is about... sex." They explode with giggles as the first woman shushes them. "It is about pleasure for men and women, positions to try, how to make love—"

"Oh please, say no more, I feel as though a river is flowing from me!"

The women laugh as you finish peeling your last potato, taking the basket with you to the boiling water you started earlier. You ponder what the details of the book could say, but you have dinner to make.

There's a soft knock on your door that night. You know who it is before you answer.

"There is something I must tell you," he says as he begins unraveling your bodice.

"Go on."

He takes a breath, pulling down your underdress to kiss at your shoulder.

"I shall be leaving." You blink, your heart steadily sinking.

"For good?"

"No, no no, my sweet. I would never leave this castle permanently without you." Another kiss to your shoulder. "But I shall be gone for at least three nights."

You hum, pulling the garment over your head and tossing it to the floor, leaving you bare.

"Well, at least it is not a fortnight."

"It might as well be a fortnight," he groans, wrapping his arms around you to palm at your breasts. "I hate the thought of being from you so long."

"Tis only a few days, Adam."

"A few hours away from you is already torture, my lady." You roll your eyes, turning around to face him. He is already straining against his trousers. His eyes glaze over you, tongue licking his lip before he hurriedly reaches into his pocket. "If I may suggest something—"

"Suggest something?"

"Please, just listen." He pulls out a folded paper. "The king has come into possession of a book, and—"

"From India?" you inquire.

"Yes—how did you know?"

"The ladies were spreading rumors of it. I did not know they were true."

"They are," he breathes, unfolding the paper. "I was able to see it for myself and—"

"Oh, please do not tell me you stole a page?"

"Of course not, my lady. I would never do such a thing. But," he turns the page towards you, "I did try to recreate the drawings."

You take the paper, staring at the drawings he made.

"They are not art, I know, but I wanted to remember the different positions... so I could try them... with you."

You blink, looking up at him.

"You wanted to try these with me?" you ask. He nods, a bit enthusiastically. You look back at the drawings. They are crudely made, mere lines for limbs, circles for heads. He has given you circles for breasts, and he drew his member quite large. You stiffle a giggle.

"If you do not want to, I understand, I—"

"Adam," you look at him, taking his hand. "It's alright. I would like to do this with you."

His eyes light up. His cock visibly bounces.

"I-I am not so sure about this position."

"Why not, my sweet? You look ravishing from here."

You are straddling his waist, his manhood poking your ass, hands resting on his chest while he strokes your hips.

"I... I do not think I look good from there."

"My lady, you look like an angel sent from the heavens to bless me this evening."

"I feel like a boar—"

He shushes you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing you tenderly.

"I hate when you speak that way. You are starlight in my hands." He kisses each fingertip before pressing his lips to your palm breathing in slow. "You are my everything. I hate when you insult yourself."

"I... I apologize. I will not speak in such a way again."

"Good. Now," he grinds his hip against yours, making you sway, "shall we continue the evening?"

"Yes," you breathe, lifting your hips. You grab his member, lining it with your entrance, biting your lip when the head slips in with ease. You lower yourself slowly, sucking in a breath, mouth falling open when your hips finally meet.

"I've never felt so full," you sigh, rolling your hips with a whine. His hand finds your hip, gripping tight, keeping you still.

"Please, don't. Not yet."

"Is... Are you alright?"

He glances at you, sighing and squeezing his eyes tight.

"No. I am not." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I feel as though I may fall apart any moment."

"Oh..." You glance over his face. "Is... Does it feel good?"

"Very much so."

"Why is it so hard to contain yourself?"

He scoffs, opening his eyes to smirk at you.

"Are you joshing me?" You shake your head and he scoffs again. "The love of my life is sitting upon my cock like it's a throne. How am I supposed to feel?"

You blink.

"I'm the love of your life?" you ask. He nods.

"Yes. This life, and all that follows after."

Your cunt clenches, causing him to groan, rolling his head back into your pillow.

"You torture me, my love."

"I do not mean to."

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slow.

"Alright. You may move, if you wish."

You are unfamiliar with this position, but Adam described it as riding a horse. You lift your hips, bringing them back down, gasping when his member presses deep into you. You do it again, sighing every time your hips meet.

"Faster, my love, please."

You brace your hands on his chest, steadying your legs before bouncing yourself faster, trying your hardest not to let out your moans. He does not seem to care about his volume, moaning low, eyes hooded as they gaze at you.

"You bounce so prettily for me, my princess." The nickname has you clenching hard, making his eyes roll back. "Lord in heaven, thank you for bringing this goddess to me."

Your legs are cramping, as if you have stood on them for days and nights. You whine, slowing to a halt. He furrows his brow.

"What is wrong, my sweet?"

"I-I'm sorry, Adam. My... my legs, they... oh, they hurt so."

"Oh, my sweet thing," he coos propping himself on his elbows. "Was it too much for you? Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I am merely exhausted." You sigh, hanging your head. "I feel as if I could not walk if I tried."

"Well, if you cannot walk anywhere, I shall simply carry you."

You shake your head.

"This is not the time for teasing—"

He suddenly sits up, almost throwing you off of him. He catches you, bringing your chest to his, nose to nose.

"Shall we try this position instead?"

You breathe shakily, cupping his face in your hands. You grunt as you reposition your legs to wrap around him instead.

"Better?"

"Better." You squirm in his hold, gasping. "Sir... you are so deep."

"I know." His lips ghost against yours. "This is where I belong, don't you think?"

He helps you grind your hips into his, the two of you breathing hard into each others' faces. There is a place deep inside that he has never touched before, but he is touching it now, kissing that spot with every jolt of your hips. You have to swallow your squeals.

"Kiss me, my love."

And you do. You kiss him so fervently that the heat between you is incinerating. Your tongues dance wildly, breathy moans swallowed by the other. Your nails scratch along his shoulders and he groans, pulling away.

"Yes, mark me, my love. I want the world to know I am yours."

You claw at him like a rabid animal, your cunt twitching with each growl he releases. He squeezes your ass, digging his blunt fingertips into your ample flesh.

Before you realize it, you are being lifted.

"A-Adam!" you whisper harshly, grappling onto him. "I-I will fall!"

"I will not let you, my lady."

He rests your upper back against the cot, but he keeps an arm wrapped around your hips, keeping them in the air. When he readjusts, he is holding your hips up by your ass with both hands.

He pulls back and thrusts forward. Hard.

His pace is brutal, deadly, you fear you will shatter if he continues fucking you so. Your hands scramble from his forearms to your breasts to the sheets. You can feel the coil inside you tightening far too quickly.

"I shall show them all that you are mine," he growls, giving a few slow strokes before speeding up again. "I shall let them know that you are spoken for by planting my seed and watching you grow with my child. Then no one can take you from me."

"A-Adam!" you whisper, feeling tears prick on your eyes.

"Does that burn you, my princess? Thinking about carrying my child and finally being mine?" His grip becomes tighter and, somehow, he goes faster. "I shall give you the fine things you deserve. I shall get you a farm, and a horse, all the jewelry and dresses you could ever want. Give me a child and I shall give you the world."

Your hand flies to your cunt, fingers working your clit swiftly, but he stops you, replacing them with his thumb.

"Only I may unravel you, my sweet."

And unravel you do. You fall apart around him, your hand clamped over your mouth to silence you, your cunt fluttering with desire. It must feel delightful, for only a few thrusts later, he stills and you feel a slurry of warmth inside you.

You are panting, limp, wet. You kneed at his forearms and he lowers you to the bed, staying inside you. He kisses over your temple, your cheek, down to your neck.

"Did you mean what you said?" you ask a few moments later.

"Which part?" he asks.

"The part about making me yours." He smiles into your collarbone, nibbling the flesh there.

"I mean every word I say to you."

You can't remember falling asleep. You vaguely remember being twisted into other positions later in the night, but the exact memory escapes you.

You rise before the sun. He is not beside you when you wake up.

You feel empty in more ways than one.

He looks so deranged I love it 🥰

What's in the trunk, Al?

I have a craving for pathetic piss-boy Vox x Mr steal-your-girl Valentino x reader that nobody is filling rn 💔

MY HUSBAND IS BACK

Mammon 🤡

Oh my 😩😩😩😩

Updated my Sinner Adam’s design for the new year! How y’all like him?

All I did was tweak his color palette and make him a little scruffier if that counts as anything 😅