Chapter Text
Multiple hands ran over your body, groping and touching you wherever they pleased. You weren't entirely sure whose hands they were. Your brain felt foggy still from whatever the fuck you took last night. Honestly you can't remember.. At one point you knew you had too much to drink, but you kept going anyway. Ordering drink after drink after drink. And you knew that those fucking sleazebags slipped something into one of them. You watched it happen, but you didn't really care.
Someone's fingers graze over your tits, groping you harshly. You wince as they squeeze too tightly, but quickly pass it off as if you're enjoying it. You mewl and arch your back into their touch.
It's an effort to keep the noises coming out of your throat. Nothing they do feels good. On occasion they'll hit a sweet spot that genuinely makes you feel something. But that feeling is fleeting and you've learned not to hold onto it. At this point your brain is just on autopilot. You've done this a million times. Performed and acted like you love how these men, who clearly have no clue how to please a woman, touch and fuck you.
Your mind wanders elsewhere, instead thinking about the fact that you need to go out and buy new sheets. Your nice velvet red ones are now ruined. They smell like smoke and a very overpowering cologne. They smell like Valentino.
You gave him hell for it. Not that he cares. If anything he finds your occasional outbursts hilarious. Free entertainment is what he once called it. He also loves to remind you that he can do as he pleases, seeing as you belong to him.
He's not wrong. Maybe that's what you get for making a deal with him.
You made the deal years ago, shortly after you first arrived in Hell. You were still young when you died. And naive when you arrived. Valentino was charming. He was nice to you at first, luring you into a false sense of security. Looking back you definitely can notice some redflags. Like how he used to wrap an arm around your waist, his hands slowly trailing down and testing how much he could get away with. He used to shower you with compliments and give you gifts.
Now of course you realize that that was his way of luring you in and making you his.
And now you're stuck. With no way out and on permanent display.
Your body jolts as something hits your chest. It makes you grimace, you hate the feeling of cum dripping down your chest. It makes you feel dirty. There's a grunt and then a second feeling of sticky liquid hitting your thighs. You have to fight the feeling to get up and flee. You know better than that. You wait for the camera crew to yell cut before you move even a muscle.
Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You walk off the set not caring who sees your body. Everyone here has seen your body more times than you. A shorter woman holds out your soft pink robe for you as you walk past. You snatch it from her and slip it on.
Everyone in the studio gives you a wide berth as you head to your dressing room. You can come off as a real bitch. That's sort of the intention so that they leave you the fuck alone. Maybe it's some sort of self punishment you like to inflict on yourself. You can't entirely say.
The dressing room door swings shut behind you. You cross the room to the vanity and sit down in the plush chair. You immediately rip open the robe and open a drawer, pulling out a pack of wipes you keep there. You angrily scrub at your chest with the wipes, avoiding looking at your own face in the reflection. Your skin turns red from how hard you scrub at your skin.
The smell of smoke hits your nostrils. You slowly lifts your eyes to the mirror, looking directly at the figure standing behind you.
"What do you want Valentino." Your voice is cold and flat.
Val laughs, his gold tooth glinting in the vanity light as he steps closer to you. He leans down, getting close to your face. He blows a large cloud of smoke directly in your face. You cough while waving your hand, trying to clear up the red smoke.
"Now now, is that any way to talk to me?" He chuckles again, "You know better than that Y/N." He purrs in your ear.
Leaning back slightly, you turn your face towards his. "What do you want." You repeat.
You've learned over the years when to push Val and when to stay silent. He has a quick temper, but he typically only gets physical when he's really pissed off. Sometimes you like to push him past that point. You let him smack you around because part of you thinks you deserve it.
"I need you to do me a favor babydoll." The way he words it makes it seem like he's asking, but the way he actually says it really means you have no choice at all. "Velvette needs another model. You're going to step in."
"And why exactly am I stepping in?"
Valentino frowns. "Because I said so. And because I promised Velvette I would find her a new model after I broke the last one."
You don't even want to know what he means by that because it could be a number of things.
"Fine..When am I supposed to be doing this?" You don't have the energy to fight with him on this right now. It's easier to just give in.
"Mm..Now." Valentino smiles at you as he tugs you up and out of the chair by your arm.
The front of your robe is still open as he drags you out of your dressing room. You stumble, struggling to keep up with him at first. However you quickly gain back your rhythm and keep pace with Val. You don't even bother trying to tie up your robe. It's not like everyone in Hell hasn't already seen your naked body at least once or twice. Most of them have gotten off to you more times than you like to think about.
So you just let Val drag you through the tower and to Velvette's studio. As the two of you near the double doors you can hear shouting from inside. Val pushes the doors open and leads you inside.
Velvette is standing in front of a raised podium, looking over a very scared looking demon. The poor girl is practically trembling. Velvette looks over her shoulder at you and Valentino.
"Took you long enough. I told you I needed her yesterday." Her eyes narrow in on you, looking you up and down.
"I brought her didn't I? Quit your bitching." Val rolls his eyes as his two left hands shove you towards Velvette.
"I wouldn't have needed her if you hadn't torn my last model to shreds!"
Valentino scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Whatever."
During all of this you wisely keep your mouth shut. You blankly stare at the floor while Velvette fuses over what to do with you. She decides on dressing you in a deep purple silk dress. It's strapless and also backless. You have no idea how the fuck its staying up. On a hope and a prayer apparently. If you actually had to guess it's something to do with Velvette's ability.
Your hair is left down and curled. You just let her do whatever she wants. You're not about to argue with her. Just like Valentino, she has a short temper and can be extremely impulsive.
"Don't touch your hair. Don't touch your makeup. You ruin my work and I will skin you." Is all Velvette says before walking off to work on another model.
You let out a sigh as you turn to the large mirror behind you. It's a floor to ceiling mirror that takes up one wall of the room. It makes the studio appear even larger than it already is. Your eyes lazily graze over your reflection. You should feel pretty. You look pretty..but you don't feel it. The corners of your mouth tug down in a frown as you lightly run your hands over the silhouette of the dress. It's tight fitting, meant to show off every curve.
The only thing you can think about is how not even an hour ago there were strangers hands all over your body while a camera was rolling. You've never seen the final products of what you film. You've never wanted to. The thought of watching it back actually makes you a bit sick.
"Well don't you just look so cheerful."
Vox stands behind you with his hands held behind his back and a cocky smirk on his screen. The two of you haven't interacted much over the years. He typically ignores you all together and just lets Valentino deal with you. On a rare occurrence, like this one, the two of you will run into one another.
Vox gives you an off putting smile as he steps closer. "Have you seen our dear friend Valentino anywhere? I need to..have a word with him."
"He was just here not too long ago, but I have no idea where he fluttered off to."
His shoulders tense. Vox lets out a low hum before saying "How unfortunate.." He's still staring at you, mostly focusing in on your chest. "What are you doing here with Velvette? Aren't you meant to be downstairs filming."
The way he says filming sounds derogatory. He makes it seem like you have much of a choice in what content you get to film.
"Apparently Valentino tore up one of Velvette's models and promised her a replacement." You shrug your shoulders.
Vox laughs and starts circling around you. You watch him in the reflection as he slowly steps behind you, his sharp claws lightly trailing over your exposed skin. "Shame you don't get dressed up for Velv more often. You look good."
It's a simple compliment. Something you've heard countless times in countless different contexts. You've never really cared when others have said it in the past. Yet for some reason when it's coming from Vox your chest suddenly feels tight. You can feel the flush creeping up your neck and over your cheeks.
Vox notices almost right away. He enjoys how you tense up and avoid looking at him directly. It's like he knows he could get away with whatever he wanted without even really trying. He stands in front of you, making it difficult to avert your gaze.
"Well you have fun playing dress up for our dear Velvette. I need to handle things with Valentino." His clawed finger grazes your jaw, digging in just a bit harder right beneath your chin. Your head tilts up barely.
You grit your teeth and say nothing as you watch Vox saunter off. You feel something wet sliding down your chin. When you turn to look in the mirror you immediately see the little droplets of blood. Vox's claws must've dug in a little harder than you originally thought.
Fuck.
Velvette's going to be pissed if you can't get that cleaned up. You frantically look around for anything to wipe the blood. You snatch a makeup wipe from one of the vanities and dab at the small pinprick of a wound. You cringe because the products from the wipe sting in the open wound. It doesn't matter though as long as she doesn't notice. You rush to apply a bit more makeup, covering up the bits that you accidentally wiped away and hopefully hiding the red irritated spot.
You look at yourself in the mirror. It doesn't seem that noticeable..If you hadn't known about it to begin with you wouldn't be able to tell. But then again Velvette seems to have a fucking sixth sense when it comes to things like this.
You resist the urge to run your hand over your face, instead clutching onto either side of the vanity like it personally offended you.
Just another fucking day.