Staking His Claim

Summary: Set after the seaon one finale. Vox is finally alone...and it's exactly what Alastor has been waiting for

Warning(s): Spoilers for Hazbin Hotel seasons one and two; sexual content; some Daddy kink; nonconsensual spanking; extreme possessive behaviour; AU; power play; Dominant/submissive; some elements of BDSM

Pairing: Alastor/Vox

Author's Note: Well, it's been a while...I haven't done much writing at all, to be honest. Now a year into my new job and...well, I can't really say things are that settled for me, but I'm going to try and spend more time on my writing...both original and fan fiction. So I hope you enjoy this new fic and a venture into yet another new fandom for me!

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Vox glared out of his window at the streets down below. The broadcast still rang in his ears; Val, taking the credit for everything. It stung nearly as much as his two partners deciding to join Charlie Morningstar and her cursed song, which...if he was honest with himself, things had gone a lot further than he had ever intended them to.

Just like they did when you were alive... a little voice pointed out inside his head.

Scowling at his own reflection, Vox turned away from the window. How had things gone so wrong? Well. He knew why. Alastor had played him like a damned fool. The Radio Demon had known exactly what he was doing, biding his time and waiting. And Vox's victory over him? A temporary thing that was wavering as dangerously as his grip on the other Vs.

Vox stepped away from the window, turning away from the city and its lights below. The amount of sinners flocking to the hotel was...annoying. Irritating. Like an itch under his skin that he couldn't scratch.

He'd reattached his head, although he'd done so without help. He didn't need them. He didn't need any of them. If it wasn't for him, the Vees would be nothing. They wouldn't hold any power at all without him.

"I can hear you sulking all the way over here."

Vox stiffened at the sound of the all too familiar voice behind him. Those familiar mocking tones...the distorted voice.

Alastor.

Vox thought about ignoring the Radio Demon. He wasn't sure what Alastor was doing here, but he suspected that it might be to gloat. Or perhaps to fight. They couldn't kill each other without angel weapons, but they could definitely hurt each other.

It didn't really matter why Alastor was there, though. Vox wasn't going to show any weakness. And he certainly wasn't going to show any regret.

Forcing a smile to the screen that served as his face, Vox turned round, taking a step back before he forced himself to stand his ground. "Alastor." He allowed himself to smile; to put up the mask that hid his true feelings from everyone. "What a…pleasant surprise." He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see if you've given up on your futile endeavours." Alastor stepped nearer to Vox, tall frame looming over him.

"Futile?" Vox laughed, though the sound held very little humour. "Did Little Miss Morningstar send you here? I can't imagine you'd willingly step back here after I held your leash for so long."

Instead of getting angry, Alastor only laughed...a sound that grated on Vox's ears...even as he took a step forward, looking down at Vox with that same irritating smile. "Oh, my dear Vox. Charlie hasn't sent me here."

"Oh, so you're here to gloat, then?" Vox smirked. "I would have thought that was beneath you. Or are you just here to test yourself against the strongest sinner in Hell? Trademark courtesy of our resident Princess Morningstar."

Alastor's laugh grated on Vox's ears, though it quickly died away as he stepped in close, leaning down to touch the side of Vox's screen face, fingers digging in enough for Vox to feel the ice cold chill run through his body that suddenly felt all too human.

"I don't have any need to gloat, my dear Vox," Alastor murmured, fingers squeezing Vox's face just a bit too hard. "I always get what I want. Eventually." His eyes glittered.

"Oh? And what exactly do you want?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet, my dead Vox?" Alastor leaned down until their faces were nearly touching. "I want you, of course."

"Me?" Vox laughed and took a step back, away from Alastor's touch. "You can't believe I'd be foolish enough to sell my soul to you, of all demons."

"Oh, you misunderstand me, Vox." Alastor advanced a step closer, his movements menacing yet somehow graceful. "I'm not talking about your soul. Or rather, I'm not just talking about your soul." He reached out again and deliberately ran a finger down Vox's shirt, the fabric parting like water beneath his touch. "But first, we have the little matter of your attitude to take care of." Something dark and primal flashed in his eyes as his fingers scratched down bare skin.

"My attitude?" Vox couldn't help but tense at the feel of fingers on his bare skin, hating the goosebumps that rose in response to the touch.

"Oh, yes." Alastor's hand abruptly moved to Vox's shoulder, gripping so hard it was almost painful. "You've been causing quite the stir, my dear Vox. Acting like a naughty child throwing a tantrum just to get Daddy's attention."

"I'm not..."

Alastor cut him off by deliberately closing his fingers around Vox's neck and tutting softly. "Now, now. You've only just had your head reattached, I see. I'm sure you don't want to lose it again." His fingers flexed, though his grip remained terrifyingly gentle.

"I'm not going to give you my soul," Vox ground out.

"Not yet, perhaps," Alastor agreed. "But I'll settle for giving you the punishment you deserve. Then we'll discuss the terms of your surrender."

Vox tried to take a step back, but Alastor tightened his hold in warning. "Careful," he whispered. "I didn't give you permission to step away."

"I won't let you..." Vox cut himself off, realising that, for all Alastor's talk of punishment...he really had no idea what the other demon planned 

"I'm not giving you a choice." Alastor's hand shifted to Vox's shoulder, gripping it tightly...almost painfully. Then he took a step back, hand falling away from Vox's shoulder. "Strip. Now."

Vox's mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Alastor waved a hand airily. "Do it. Now."

"Or what?"

"Or you'll find out just how much worse I can make your punishment." Alastor leaned in close once more. "Don't test me, Vox." His voice dropped to a low warning tone. "You'll find I won't bend...and the only one who will break is you."

Vox lifted his head and glared defiantly at Alastor. "No."

Alastor's smile grew as he stepped closer to Vox until their chests were pressed flush together, looking down at him. "Struggle all you want." One finger ran down the side of his face. "It will just make your surrender all the sweeter."

"I am not going to surrender," Vox ground out. "And especially not to you."

"Now that's where you're wrong." Alastor's voice took on a more threatening tone; steel below velvet. "You will surrender. The only choice I will give you is how much pain I inflict before you do." A thick leather strap appeared in his hand with a burst of crimson light, and he smirked, running his fingers over its surface. "Now. Shall we negotiate how many stripes you will receive?"

Something twisted inside Vox at the sight of the strap, held so casually in the other demon's hands. A flash of memory hit him. Words, shouted in anger. The feel of leather against his back, hard enough to break the skin.

"No?" Alastor breathed, watching Vox closely. "Perhaps this, then." He gestured sharply, and the strap morphed into a cane, thin and supple. "Six of the best...or shall we make it an even dozen?"

"I'm not going to let you cane me."

"Let?" Alastor shook his head, a trace of amusement showing on his face, his eyes glinting, as he took a step back, sitting in a plush armchair that seemed to have appeared for this very purpose. "Position yourself across my lap, then, and we'll begin."

Vox shook his head, stepping back until he felt the solid weight of the wall against his spine.

"Be very careful refusing me, Vox," Alastor whispered. "After everything you've done, you no longer have the protection of the city behind you. You don't even have the other Vees to fight your battles for you."

Vox narrowed his eyes. "I don't need their help to fight you. After all, I'm the strongest sinner in Hell."

Alastor's dark chuckle vibrated through the room. "Words spoken under duress don't change the facts, my dear Vox, even if those words were spoken by the Princess of Hell herself." He patted his lap. "Come here. Now. Let's get this over with, and then we can move onto other, more...pleasurable activities."

"I'm not going to let you spank me like a child."

Alastor leaned forward, locking eyes with Vox, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "Then you'll be pleased to know I won't be spanking you like a child. I'll be spanking you like an adult who knows full well what he did wrong and why he's being punished."

The words hung in the air between them. Vox stared at Alastor...at the perpetual smile that now seemed more serious...and stated, "I'm not going to let you spank me as an adult either."

"Do you know what I hear every time you protest?" Alastor stood and glided closer to Vox, his movements that of a graceful predator. "That you need the choice taken away from you. Very well. You have no choice in how I punish you. Only in how you react to it." Without waiting for a response, he reached out with one hand, fingers closing around Vox's wrist in a tight, painful grip.

For a moment, Vox just stared at Alastor's hand on his wrist. He gave a light tug at his wrist...not surprised to find that it was held fast. He opened his mouth.

Alastor covered his lips with his hand. "Not a word. Not unless it's begging for mercy, or for more. I will listen either way...even though mercy is not something I am known for." His voice dropped to a low, almost intimate whisper as he added, "Don't make me gag you."

Vox narrowed his eyes, but couldn't quite muster up a defence. He did give his trapped wrist a stronger tug...but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Alastor was right, as loath as Vox was to admit it. Right now, he had no allies...and his powerbase was crumbling. Still, as Alastor took a seat in the large plush armchair, he couldn't help but pull back slightly.

Alastor simply tightened his hold on Vox's wrist and tugged him forward, lifting him easily off his feet and draping him over his lap.

Vox's breath escaped him in a gasp he hadn't made since he was human. He squirmed over Alastor's lap...only to still when the other demon's hand came to rest on his backside, or what amounted to it in Vox's demonic form.

"Be still," Alastor murmured. "Or the belt will truly come into play."

Vox didn't want to admit it...certainly not out loud...but his body responded. His squirming eased.

Alastor's chuckle was low and dark as his hand rubbed slowly...possessively...over Vox's bottom. "There you are," he said, voice a low, sensual whisper. "Just a naughty boy waiting for Daddy's hand."

Vox would have pushed himself up...would have protested...but Alastor's fingers gripped his right buttock firmly, as if in warning, and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "Careful, Vox. You don't want me to strike anything more...tender."

A low whine escaped him, turning into a hitched breath as he felt Alastor's hand lift slightly.

The first smack was comparatively light, compared to what Vox had expected. It barely stung but caused a wave of heat to go through him. The second smack landed more firmly...hard enough to sting; not strong enough to break him. Two more just below the first, and Vox threw his hand back to protect himself...not from the sting, but from the emotions the spanking was rousing inside him.

Alastor tutted softly as he took Vox's hand, moving it out of the way and holding it against his back, keeping it trapped. "I enjoy seeing the effect my hand has on you, but do not try to block or escape," he warned. "Or I will make it worse for you."

In spite of himself...in spite of the vulnerability and the position he was in...Vox couldn't help but laugh. "How can you possibly make this worse?"

"I can make you feel even more like a naughty boy under Daddy's control." Alastor's fingers ghosted along the waistband of Vox's pants, nails scratching lightly along the skin under his shirt.

Vox shivered. His body felt all too human as Alastor's fingers eased his pants down, and Vox found his free hand reaching down...scrabbling for purchase as he lost one layer of protection.

The other demon was right. It did make him feel small...helpless. And he couldn't help squirming again.

The next smack that landed was harder...stung more with one less layer. Vox drew in his breath sharply, one leg jerking as he voiced a protest. "I didn't agree to this."

Alastor's chuckle, warm and dark, filled the room and slid inside Vox's soul like smoke. "Your body tells a different story, my dear Vox." He rubbed the spot he'd swatted, the touch possessive, and then delivered another, harder smack.

Vox grit his teeth as Alastor settled into a pattern of swats, interspersing rubs and squeezes to Vox's rapidly warming backside. After a particularly firm strike to the top of Vox's thigh, Alastor stroked the stinging spot, murmuring softly, "Now that you're not hiding behind that mask, you're more honest than you've ever been."

Vox's breath caught and he closed his eyes, shame causing his cheeks to heat. Alastor was right...in more ways than one. With each smack that fell, each time Alastor's hand landed on increasingly sensitive skin, Vox felt another piece of armour fall away. Another piece of his demonic form shattered, leaving him human...draped over Alastor's lap, small and vulnerable like the little boy Alastor had called him.

For a few moments, there was silence in the room...only broken by the sound of Alastor's hand landing against skin only covered with a thin layer of fabric as protection, and Vox's barely held back gasps and moans as the other demon heated him up...both inside and outside. The spanking stung. Of course it did. But his body couldn't help but react to Alastor's close proximity...to the other demon's dominance and control, in spite of Vox's best efforts to pretend he was unaffected.

Alastor paused, his hand resting on Vox's stinging backside, giving a low, satisfied hum. His hand rubbed in slow circles...not soothing the burn but instead rubbing it deeper...until the burn sank through Vox's skin and into his very core. Heat curled in his stomach, and a tiny sound escaped him...something close to a whimper.

When Alastor swept his underwear down, removing that last bit of protection, Vox's soul seemed to plummet with the descent of that layer. He squeezed his eyes shut, face heating as Alastor chuckled, low and dark, before the first smack was delivered to his bare bottom, slow and hard 

Vox's fingers flexed and, before he could help himself, he wrapped his hand around Alastor's ankle. He held his breath, expecting the other demon to ridicule him, or make a comment of some kind. Instead, he was rewarded with another, harder smack to his bare bottom, this one low down.

When he flinched, Alastor paused to rub e stinging bare flesh for a moment, his touch possessive. He squeezed low down on Vox's thigh before he spoke in a low voice, laced with amusement. "How does it feel, Vox? To finally be stripped of your pride and power? To be nothing more than a naughty boy draped across Daddy's lap?"

"I'm not..." The protest sounded weak, even to Vox's own ears. Alastor was right, after all. He was completely powerless. And the worst part? The only reason he was in this position was entirely his own fault. If he hadn't lost to Charlie Morningstar and her damned friendship circle....

Alastor delivered a full circuit of hard, fast smacks, causing Vox to gasp and squirm. By the time the other demon paused, hand resting lightly on his backside, Vox was panting slightly for breath.

"Try again." Alastor's voice was a low, warning rumble.

Vox's hips shifted slightly in protest, only for another slow, stinging smack to land on the curve of his backside. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't make himself say the words...even as he was draped over Alastor's lap, hovering right on the edge of surrender.

The low hum that Alastor gave was a sound of disapproval that made Vox's stomach churn. His arm wrapped tightly around Vox's waist, as if to hold him steady, and his fingers dug into Vox's bare skin possessively. "Such a shame to mark you, but that kind of defiance won't go unpunished," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous velvet that made Vox shiver.

The flurry of smacks that landed on Vox's bare bottom were hard and fast, and didn't leave him any room to breathe. He lost count of the amount of strikes that fell on his bare skin. They merged into one sensation...of burning, stinging pain; of Alastor's displeasure...of his claim...burned deeply into Vox's skin.

By the time Alastor paused once more, hand resting on heated, sore flesh, Vox was barely able to hold back his cries, his fingers digging into Alastor's ankle tight enough that the other demon had to feel them.

"Now," Alastor whispered, squeezing low down on Vox's thigh, "Would you like to try again?"

Vox squeezed his eyes shut, unable to halt the trembling that had overtaken his body. What was the question? He couldn't even remember it now. All he knew was Alastor's presence surrounding him...the other demon's hands on him, possessive and claiming. The whole world outside...Heaven and Hell and everything in between...seemed to fade when faced with Alastor's possessiveness.

"I'm sorry."

The words hung in the air between them, torn from Vox's lips in a moment of weakness and surrender. He pressed his trembling face against Alastor's thigh, his body slumped in a position of weary submission.

The sound that came from Alastor's lips could only be called satisfied. Somewhere between a growl and a purr. He squeezed low down on Vox's thigh, deep and possessive, and then stood him up, hands shifting from Vox's back to the back of his neck...fingers gripping the nape possessively.

The perpetual smile Alastor wore seemed...softer, somehow. Vox forced himself to look up into the other demon, blinking away tears that had started to fall. His own demonic form settled around him once more, but it was less like armour now. After all, Alastor had seen everything that was underneath.

"Now that that's settled...let's move this somewhere more private," Alastor whispered, his fingers moving to Vox's shoulder...digging in just enough to stake his claim. Then power, raw and visceral, surged around them...taking them both to Alastor's own room back in the Hazbin Hotel.

The End