4chan Hazbin Hotel story - Cold snap in a Heatwave

from /hhg/ - Hazbin Hotel #319 and #320.
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Victor time
>Victor is in his office being miserable while doing work
>Hell is going through a heat wave and the buildings AC broke
>It's so hot that his assistant has stopped being lewd
>And she's a succubus
>He sighs heavily and wipes the sweat off his brow
>He pushes the intercom button
"Attention employees, due to the current heat wave all workers may return home should they wish. You will not be receiving docked pay. That is all, have a good day."
>Even from his office he can bear the workers cheer and practically stamped out the building
>His phone rings
>He picks it up and looks at the caller ID
>It's Velvet
>He lets it go to voicemail
>The whole call is her mocking him and about how much she's enjoying her air conditioning
>Fucking bitch
-
>10 minutes later, Velvet call him again because somehow the air conditioner caught on fire and she wondering if Victor got any spare air conditioning.
>"H-hey Vic! Do ya got any spare AC?"
"Suffer."
>He hangs up
-
>Victor smirks to himself
>with the main offices shut down, he's now enjoying the cool shade and near-frigid atmosphere of the of Bratislav's near-windowless futurist-brutalist monstrosity of a "HQ", right across the street from his workplace
>as tempers rise with the average temperature, Bratva decided to call upon his "friend" for a favor - especially after "getting word" that he had shut his place down for the day
>so, here he was, helping to take care of the Russian's paperwork while he's out and about getting hands-on with his own business
>turns out, even the former apparatchik hates company "homework"
>as he flips trough some of the paperwork, he spots something interesting
>an order (or more like request) placed by Vox for some troops and a "container's worth" of AKs
>Victor furrows his brows - he vaguely recalls Bratislav sharing a movie with him about a gunrunner
>what was it...?
>all he can remember is that they used actual guns they got from a real (legal) gunrunner, because props would've been more expensive
>is Vox trying to do a remake?
>he knew the monitor-headed social butterfly was all about his "remixes" and parodies
>still, the order seemed strange

>then, it dawned upon him
>Val
>the cold-blooded cockroach who owns most of Hell's mass media
>the "public's voice", or so he claims...
>...with quite a chip on his shoulder regarding the Princess - something about a soul contract
>the point is: wherever those guns are, the Princess will be there
>...and where the Princess is...
>!!!

>one quick phonecall later, the Lincoln Continental sedan sped down the road, closely followed by a GAZ-24 Volga (and a beat-up looking Lada Niva) - both heading towards the Hotel
-
>their arrival could've not been more timely - Vox's gold-plated Lambo Countach (à la "Rumble in the Bronx") was parked to the side, as he himself sat in an elevated chair, looking down upon the prepared "scene"
>the men were all dressed up in garish parodies of Cold War-era Spetsnaz uniforms, but armed with very real AK-74s, and were currently listening to the manic ramblings of an overenthused Vox,, as men with "VALCOM" marked overalls set up cameras and lights
>drifting into the premises, they skidded to a halt, narrowly missing the parked blue-black 8th-gen Eldorado and the rouge-red and chrome '59 Electra
>Bratislav immediately jumped out and began shouting orders to the disinterested men, who quickly snapped into a tidy line, and had their weapons holstered
>behind him, И.M.П. exited the Niva, and began a snap search on the "VALCOM" vans parked nearby, silencing any protesting staff or figurant with the barrels of a KS-23, Vepr, Saiga or Bekas
>a bemused Vox continued to bark orders and hurl curses towards the men and the busy imps and Hellhound, but slunk back (literally, as his seat lowered) at the sight of the businessman marching over to him
>"Oh... Hello, Victor." he muttered, now at ground level, as the hulking devils stopped in front of him, arms woven
"Vox."
>he began, eerily calm
"What are you doing here?"
>"...shooting a movie?" the monitor-headed demon asked, with a nervous smile. But he quickly regained his enthusiasm "I was planning on this big action scene with the boys entering the building, and--!"
"And."
>said Victor, cutting him off with a finger raised, which silenced him immediately
"Have you checked if said building is empty?"
>Vox blinked
>"W-Well, I kind of assumed that--..."
"Assumed, yes. But you should've made sure that you KNOW it, Vox. After all..."
>and he reached down, lifting the tall demon by the collar with one arm, while he lifted his shades with the other, revealing the blazing red fires within them
-
"...It can cost you quite dearly if you "overrun your budged" over such a small hiccup."
>sweating bullets, Vox tried to adjust his pinched collar
>"Uhhh... It's in use, then?" he asked
>Victor merely pointed at the glowing "Hazbin Hotel" sign atop the building
>"Oh..."
>and with that, Vox was lowered back into his seat
>Blitzo and the others returned empty handed from the vans, and began to organize the men into two rows, as two small, armored Ikarus buses showed up for them
>quickly turning his back on the devilish CEO, the Web Demon began to usher the staff into packing up
>Victor turned around as well, ready to check in on the Hotel, when a cold hand fell upon his shoulder
>"Quite a bit of money wasted, preparing that shot..." said an even colder voice
>frowning, the devil turned around, finding himself face-to-face with Valentino
>towering over 12 feet, the pinstripe-suit wearing cockroach was one of the few demons Victor actually had to look up to look in the face
>seemingly grinning over the fact, Val merely tilted his head down, his triangular shades reflecting Victor's aviators
"Valentino..."
>Victor began, his voice measured. Meticulate
"To what do I owe your presence?"
>Val pulled his mouth
>"I had quite a bit invested in Vox's latest movie project. We had the boys out here and ready to shoot..."
>he paused, as if to emphasize the work
>"And your good friend Bratislav was kind enough to provide us with authentic soldiers as well..." he added, shooting a smirk at the indifferent Russian
"Oh?"
>Victor began
"If you had so much riding on this production, how come you didn't check if the building was abandoned?"
>Val's grin became broader, revealing his jagged teeth - less of a moth's, and more of a shark's
>"Victor, you know how "we" roll..." he began, with mock softness, sounding like he was explaining something to a small child
"Clearly, I don't."
>came the curt reply
>"We don't "check", or "ask", or "wait"..."
-
>Val leaned in close, the cold emanating from his body causing Victor's shades to fog up
>"We take what we want." he finished
"Hmph."
>with a blink of his eye, the fogging cleared up, as flames licked around the edges of the metal frame
>still, he took them off, and began cleaning them, not bothering to look at the insect before him
"Still... Considering your... Influence, and... Experience, you should've at least checked if there wasn't anyone important inside that building."
>"Oh, I have!" Val replied, lightly, before his cold sneer returned "And it just so happens that there WAS someone important."
"Two."
>Val blinked
>"Two?"
>Victor looked up, the redness of his eyes breaking trough the darkness of Val's glasses, revealing two, pinprick sized pupils, as the cockroach recoiled from the heat rising from the red demon
"My daughters were in there, Val."
>he said, calmly, before he readjusted his shades
"I suggest you don't make the same mistake again, Princess or not."
>mortified, Val said nothing, as Victor turned on his heels, and began to walk toward Bratislav, once again, but then stopped
"Oh, and Val?"
>he asked, looking over his shoulder
"If your bitch of a colleague is in heat, tell her she's always welcome to try out one of my cold, seraphic steel lances - perfect for this sort of weather!"
>he added, with a smirk, which caused Val to shudder delicately, and pull his own coat tighter
>he'll have to have a word with Velvet over her choice of "vendettas"
----
"If your bitch of a colleague is in heat, tell her she's always welcome to try out one of my cold, seraphic steel lances - perfect for this sort of weather!"
>he added, with a smirk, which caused Val to shudder delicately, and pull his own coat tighter
>he'll have to have a word with Velvet over her choice of "vendettas"
I said i wanted them to hate fuck and my tism is mixing with my horniness so heres another prompt. A lewd one. And i have no idea on how to write smut so here we go
>Velvet is in her (insert high class housing here)
>More specifically in her bedroom
"Fuck..."
>She's practically swimming in her own sweat
>Partially from the heat and partially from a certain "stress relief"
>Velvet bites her lip as she pushes her new favorite toy in and out of her with one hand
>In the other is a picture of the current bane of her existence
>Victor
>The big red fuck has costed her so much porn revenue AND took away her biggest star
>She glares at the photo and mutters out a frustrated "Bastard"
>She increases her pumping and lets out a small moan
>No other of her toys was like this
>Probably because she had paid that succubus slut assistant of his to "measure" him
>The things that whore does to him in his sleep
>How she got the plaster mold without waking him is a mystery
>She puts the photo down and uses her hand to reach her climax faster
>Soon enough she's screaming Victors name alongside insults for the man
>After her happy ending she takes a look at her body
"Uh... Gross."
>She needs to shower
Gnight /hhg/