C'mon Voxxy,SAY IT! (Not my artwork)

First time writing smut lol hope its ok

Thinking he had just awoken from a restful night's sleep, Vox felt a strong urge to stretch, only to feel restrained by something hard that pressed into his skin and emanated coldness. Vox opened his eyes, and they widened once he realised that he was bound to his chair by chains. Vox blinked and registered their green glow that overpowered the usual blue light his screen radiated.

Vox tried to struggle free, but to his dismay, the chains locked his arms by his sides in a vice-like grip.

“What—” Vox muttered, “what the fuck?”

His heart dropped after realising that he was sitting before his many screens, all of which displayed him, restrained by chains with confusion in his eyes.

Suddenly, Vox heard crackling radio static that cut through the heavy silence.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

That voice.

Adrenaline coursed through Vox's veins. He ached with the desperation to break free from the chains that held him captive.

His stomach churned as Alastor’s voice sounded dangerously close, making his skin prickle with goosebumps. Vox took a shaky breath after seeing Alastor on the screen, standing behind Vox’s chair with his perpetual smile.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep?”

“Why the hell are you in my surveillance room?”

“Oh, I’m just dreadfully bored.” Alastor examined his nails, and Vox remained silent, his fear, anger and confusion mixing like an odious cocktail. Alastor continued as if he were mentioning something as trivial as the weather or his day. It was as if he didn’t have one of hell’s overlords tied up at his mercy, ready to be shamed and have their reputation forever stained.

“I never knew you had a power button. Finding out was very convenient for this—I wish I had discovered earlier, so it’d be easier to make you shut your trap.”

“Why am I tied up?” Vox seethed. His eyes lingered on the screens before him, and dread tore into his chest.

“Are we on the air?”

Alastor’s smile grew, and Vox immediately knew the answer.

“Smile for the camera, Vox.”

Vox felt lightheaded, and he trembled under Alastor’s steely gaze. Alastor noticed this and chuckled.

“You look like a rabbit caught in the headlights,” Alastor crooned, “don’t worry, I’m only going to ruin your reputation.”

Vox struggled against the chains with increasing desperation, and his voice quavered with rage.

“Let me go, you depraved eldritch Bambi.”

Alastor had his elbow on Vox’s headrest, propping up his chin. “How poetic.”

“Speaking of poetry,” Alastor continued, “remember when you confessed your feelings for me?”

If Vox hadn’t been sitting, his knees would have buckled.

“Shut up, shut up!” Vox exclaimed, failing to maintain his composure as his screen began to flicker.

“Why, I thought your little sonnet was quite endearing. Do you want me to read it out loud so all of hell knows how talented you are?”

Vox’s heart pounded in his ears, and his shoulders tensed.

“No, you asshole!”

“Ah, I just remembered.” Alastor mused. “I disposed of it during spring cleaning ages ago. It was getting a little cluttered in my radio tower. I'm sure you understand.”