Husk always says that's the last time, every time the fucking Radio Demon comes to find him long after the bar closes.
//I've never written a hate fuck...until now XD //
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Husker gathered up glasses from the now empty bar in the Hazbin Hotel lobby. His nails clinked against the cups in the echoing silence after everyone had gone to bed for the night, and he was just glad there wasn’t more clean up to do.
For a bunch of damned souls and the Princess of Hell, the little get together had been surprisingly calm.
No brawls, no property damage, barely any debauchery—though he could have done with a bit more drinking.
“Should be fuckin’ happy they didn’t trash this place.” Husk muttered, wiping down the sticky remnants of mixed drinks and cocktails from the polished wooden surface. “Or the radio fucker’d have me up all night scrubbin’.”
He longed for the comfort of his bed and its nest of pillows, his mind already on sleep…so he didn’t notice the shadows gathering across the bar.
The soft clink of ice in a glass made his ear twitch. Husk’s hackles rose—praying it wasn’t exactly who he thought it was.
Alastor perched primly on the last bar stool like he’d been there all damn evening. With the dimmed light glinting off those shark’s teeth of his.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Husk yelped, stumbling back into the shelf and sending glasses rattling like bowling pins. “Don’t do that to an old man, you creepy bastard!”
Alastor just chuckled softly behind that never-slipping smile.
The cat demon’s hair was still standing on end, but he quickly brushed down his arms. Hiding the evidence. As if Alastor needed anymore cause to dig right under his skin.
Damn smug Radio Demon.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Husk growled. “Party’s over. Go haunt someone else’s nightmares.”
“Oh, my dear Husker,” his voice purred with amusement, propping his elbow up on the bar and his clawed fingers under his chin. “Is that a confession—you do dream of me?”
Those red eyes glinted with mischief even in the dimmed light. Husk’s fur bristled and his slashing tail betrayed his agitation.
“Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself.” He grunted, turning back to drying the glasses, before remembering he hadn’t washed them yet. “Ain’t in the mood for your games, Alastor.”
The Radio Demon cocked both eyebrows above his smirk.
“Now, now.” He leaned forward on his stool, his voice taking a sing-song lilt.“You are a bartender, are you not? Fix me a drink, my good fellow.”
Husk’s ears flatted to his head. Gritting his teeth against the urge to tell Alastor exactly where he could shove his drink.
“What’ll it be?” He growled out instead.
The other man’s grin widened impossibly further, leaning over the bar as if he could close the distance that Husk was keeping between them.
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I like, Husker.” Alastor’s voice dropped to a low, intimate rumble that shivered down the cat demon’s spine like a prickle of electricity.
His tail stilled before he could stop it, and he silently cursed himself and his boss.
“Ain’t happening,” Husk said gruffly, refusing to meet Alastor’s knowing gaze as he reached for rye whiskey and a clean glass.
He poured a generous measure, neat, just the way Alastor liked it. His eyes followed the glass sliding across the bar, picked up with an elegant twist of his wrist, and bringing it to his lips. Inadvertently locking with Alastor’s predatory gaze.
Husk’s ears flattened to his head.
“What’s the matter, old friend? Not fond of your own taste in drinks?” He raised an eyebrow before taking a delicate sip of the rich amber liquid.
Husk swallowed as Alastor did.
The Radio Demon let out a low, appreciative hum, his eyes never leaving the cat’s face as he set down his glass.
“Intensely bitter.” He licked his lips, too damn deliberate to be innocent. “Just the way I like it.”
Husk shook his head to clear it. He hadn’t had enough to be this damn cloudy. With a huff, he turned his back on Alastor and found anything he could grab to occupy his hands.
“Stop fuckin’ around,” he muttered to the imaginary stain in the glass he was cleaning. His wings twitched as he felt Alastor’s eyes burning a hole through his back. “Ain’t you got better people to torment?”
The air behind him crackled with static.
Husk froze, feeling his hair stand in waves—he knew what was coming, but he was powerless to stop it.
The Radio Demon’s presence leaned down over his shoulder. His hot breath ghosted over Husk’s flicking ears as he spoke in a deep, dangerous tone.
“Oh, my dear Husker. I assure you, ” Alastor purred and Husk’s spine curled with shivers. “When I begin to…fuck around, as you so eloquently put it…” Husk felt his heart stutter, waiting on the demon’s next word. “You will most certainly know it.”
The feathers of his wings puffed involuntarily as Husk stumbled forward, ignoring the surge of want that rushed through his blood as he turned around.
“I said it ain’t happenin’.” His gruff voice was weak even in his ears.
Husk searched frantically along the bar, fumbling with bottles and glasses, anything to keep his hands busy and avoid that burning red gaze.
But Alastor never was one to give up easy.
“Yes, of course,” he drawled, his presence looming right over the cat’s shoulder and his warmth tantalizingly close. “Just like every time it wasn’t happening, hmm?” He chuckled softly.
Husk felt his tail sway with interest—and hit into the other demon’s legs.
“Just like every time it didn’t happen. Right, darling?”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” Husk snapped back, fighting off the memory of every time Alastor pulled out the honeyed words and sweet names.
His resolve was crumbling, like it happened, every time.
Husk opened his mouth to bite out some nasty insults, but the words died in his throat as he felt something terribly, wonderfully familiar. Alastor’s long, slender fingers threading through his fur.
The demon’s touch was gentle but deliberate, claws drawn perfectly down Husk’s back with practiced ease.
“What was that, my dear Husker?” Alastor grinned at his ear.
Husk bit into his lip, desperately trying to stiffle the purr building in his chest, but his back was arching into Alastor’s hands.
“Fuckin’ bastard,” Husk growled without an ounce of venom. “Y’know exactly what you’re doin’.”
“Of course I do,” Alastor replied, his grin clear in his voice. “I know you better than anyone, old friend.”
Alastor’s fingers continued their ministrations, finding all the spots that made Husk’s resolve crumble. The cat demon’s wings twitched, feathers rustling as pleasure as a soft, rumbling purr escaped his throat.
This dangerous little habit he’d gotten into. But the high of giving into Alastor was as addictive as booze—a bet he thrilled in losing.
He should push the bastard off and tell him to fuck off.
“Dammit,” Husk gritted out.
Alastor’s ears stood straight up at the sound of the demon’s resolve breaking. His fingers drew up along the cat’s back, pushing the suspenders off his shoulders and letting them fall loose without a scrap of resistance.
Letting Alastor know he’d won.
The Radio Demon leaned down, his hand stroking down Husk’s chest and belly as he leaned to his ear, cooing heatedly. “There’s a good kitty.”
“Fuck—” Husk gasped out as Alastor cut him off with a bite to his sensitive ear. The cat’s body responded in an instant, a wave of arching arousal that nearly burned the rest of the fight out of him.“—you.”
Alastor simply chuckled, his breath hot against Husk’s neck.
His long-fingered hand curled around the tent straining at the other demon’s pants, dragging a strangled groan from the old cat.
“How about one last round for the evening?” Alastor hummed, gripping the nape of Husk’s neck as he palmed his arousal. “You know I will make it worth your while.”
Husk growled, but nothing in him wanted to resist the wicked treatment Alastor gave.
“Stop tryna be slick,” he growled as his hips bucked forward. “And get on with it.”
“Certainly!” Alastor’s grin was impossibly wider as he snapped his fingers.
Husk grunted as he was shoved forward by the shadow tentacles that had started to pool around his ankles. Suddenly, his bare ass was on the bar top, his pants gone, and his legs spread like a damn invitation.
The curses died on his tongue as Alastor leaned over him with a predatory grace, dragging his tongue in a hot, wet line down the pink skin of his cock.
“Slick, did you say?”
“Don’t fuckin’ tease—” Husk’s words dissovled into a choked moan as Alastor took his cock into his mouth.
The cat’s claws gripped the edge of the bar, leaving grooves in the wood as the other demon worked over his length. He never felt the edge of those teeth—but he certainly felt the slide of that silver tongue.
“Cocky bastard.” Husk huffed, wriggling against the tendrils that kept him still. Alastor’s laugh vibrated through him, making the cat shudder.
A slick tentacle materialized between them, sliding up between Husk’s thighs until it found his furled hole. The old man squirmed against the slithering, gasping as he felt the tip press inside and start to stretch him as Alastor continued his ministrations.
Husk slipped his nails into the demon’s hair, knowing full well he was taking his life into his hands when he pulled at the deer ears. Alastor snarled against him, but never drew his mouth back.
Even as his claws sank into the shelf behind the bar.
The tentacle writhed inside Husk—until it hit that spot that put every hair on end as pleasure rocketed through him. His wings flared wide, knocking Alastor’s forgotten whiskey glass across the room.
A shadow caught it.
“Careful darling,” Alastor chuckled, taking the glass the tendril brought to his hand. “We wouldn’t want to make a bigger mess for you to clean up, would we?”
The Radio Demon smirked, licking his lips as he took a casual sip of his whiskey.
“You’re a real smug son of a—”
Alastor cut his retort off by dropping his mouth back onto Husk’s cock. Until it and the tentacle were leaving him a gasping, trembling mess on the bar top. Desperate for more than the agonizingly slow stretch.
“You plannin’ on taking all damn night?” Husk growled, his tail thrashing wildly.
Alastor’s eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he raised the whiskey glass to his lips. “My, my. Impatient, aren’t we?” He took another leisurely sip, savoring Husk’s growing agitation. “Good things come to those who wait, dear Husker.”
“For fuck’s sake, Al,” Husk muttered, his wings twitching with each movement of the tentacle.
With a flick of the Radio Demon’s wrist, the neon green chain materialized around Husk’s throat, making his yellow eyes go wide.
Alastor wrapped the links around his fingers, and then yanked Husk forward.
Their lips crashed together.
The taste of whiskey flooded Husk’s senses, familiar and intoxicating, making him lean in desperately for more.
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As their lips parted, Husk panted heavily, his breath mingling with Alastor’s. The Radio Demon’s eyes sparked deviously, and the tentacle within Husk writhed in response.
“Ya gettin’ on off on bein’ a fuckin’ tease?,” Husk accused, his voice hoarse.
“I like it when you’re…feisty” Alastor smirked, his fingers tracing the edges of the chain around Husk’s neck. “And I’d be happy to let you go without, if you’d rather not play my game.” He said, with an air of faux sweetness.
Husk let out a sound of pure irritation, the tentacle still squirming inside him as others held his legs and wings in place.
He hated the way Alastor could turn him on and then toy with him like this.
Husk knew he was powerless against Alastor, and his wicked charms. A habit he couldn’t kick.
The cat let out a frustrated groan, his body tensing as the tentacle brushed his sweet spot once again. He knew Alastor wouldn’t let him come, not yet at least, even as he grabbed desperately for the man’s lapels.
“I can wait you out, Husker.” Alastor sang to him.
“Fuck you.” Husk gritted back.
“You wish.” Alastor intoned as he took another long, luxuriating sip of whiskey.
Husk hissed, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to escape. He didn’t want to give Alastor the satisfaction—didn’t want to give in to his game.
But every nerve ending was on fire, and the tentacle inside him was edging into him. As Alastor just sat back, and smiled, and smiled…
And Husk couldn’t take it anymore.
He grabbed the glowing chain with both hands, and pulled the other demon flush against him. “Fuck me already.” He demanded in a desperate whisper.
“What was that, old friend?” Alastor taunted, inches from Husk’s nose.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Husk was about to rip his own fur out. He struggled against the shadows holding him, trying to tug the immovable Alastor forward. “Fine! I want ya to fuck me ‘til I can’t see straight. Fuck—please!”
Alastor’s smile stretched across his face. “With pleasure.”
The chain vanished, and the Radio Demon’s hand wrapped around Husk’s throat.
His yellow eyes went wide as his back was pinned against the bar, but he only struggled when he felt the teasing tentacle withdraw—only to let out a low hum as he felt Alastor’s cock slide inside him at last.
“Fuck…” Husk grabbed at the demon’s wrist, trying to steady himself as the other finally began to move.
It was slow, deliberate, dragging the bliss from him with every thrust.
But Husk wanted more.
“Fuck you and the things you do to me.” He tried to snarl through his husky voice and the hand just holding on to his neck.
“Always a pleasure,” Alastor chimed, his voice dripping with saccharine charm to Husk’s roiling frustration. “To hear such delightful vulgarity.”
Husk could feel his orgasm building, but he knew Alastor wouldn’t let him come yet. Not until he was good and ready.
“Faster,” Husk demanded, his voice strained.
And he hated the fucking laugh that answered him.
“Relax Husker,” Alastor purred, “We’re not done yet.”
With a snap of his fingers, Husk found himself face down behind the bar. Alastor’s cock was back inside him before he could protest the loss. Fucking him hard and fast.
Husk mewled. And he’d be mortified—if he could give a fuck beyond the feeling of Alastor’s cock hit his sweet spot again and again.
The Radio Demon’s claws and arms were elongate and caging him in, his wings and his legs still bound in shadows, and…ragged, panting breaths were at his ear.
Husk was surrounded. Consumed by Alastor. The sick fuck that owned every inch of him.
The cat demon cursed the last thought he had before he tumbled over the edge. He let out a low growl, his body shaking as he squeezed around Alastor’s cock.
Husk collapsed onto the bar, his body spent.
There were fingers running through his fur, soothing him as he caught his breath.
Husk lay there, panting heavily, still trembling from the bliss that had just ripped through him. He could feel Alastor’s own release, hot and wet inside him.
The other’s weight was still on top of him, the radio demon’s chest heaving against his back as he struggled to catch his breath.
Alastor’s fingers were running through Husk’s fur, gently tracing patterns along his spine. It was almost soothing, and Husk found himself relaxing into the touch.
“Don’t get sweet on me now.”
Husk let out a low growl, too damn tired to flatten his ears to his head—even as his tail curled around the man’s waist from behind. He could feel Alastor’s breath hot against his neck, the Radio Demon’s lips grazing his skin as he spoke.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, old friend.” Alastor chuckled.
Husk let out a huff of laughter. “Get the fuck off me,” he muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.
Alastor chuckled, his fingers stilling for a moment before resuming their gentle stroking. “Always so charming, aren’t you?”
Husk rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest as Alastor continued to touch him. He could feel the Radio Demon’s length was still inside him, growing hard again—damn demonic powers.
And he knew that Alastor wasn’t done with him yet.
For now, he was content to lie there and let Alastor pet him like a cat. It was almost...nice.
And when Alastor was ready for round two, Husk would be ready to fight him every step of the way.
If you like flustered Husk and confident Angel, this is the smutty fic for you! It's super fun to see a shy Husk and an Angel not swamped in trauma and actually enjoy sex together. Also... it's bottom husk if that's your thing ;)
The Road from Losers to Lovers by OverlordHusk (XenoEvil)
Rated: E
Words: 9,186
Husk finally has the courage to ask Angel to sleep with him tonight. Angel has been trying his best out of respect for him to keep his hands to himself, but is delighted to find that Husk would much rather have those hands touching him. The two of them find out that they might be more in tune with each other than previously expected.
[Like always, pls consider giving ME some recommendations (if ya wanna, check this post for what I will or won’t read) but if you have any fics that are a similar vibe to this one, drop it in a comment or a reblog!]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Explicit, One Shot, 4864 words
Summary: In which Husk calls Angel daddy in an attempt to give him a taste of how strange it feels whenever Angel does it to him. And it is strange. Because to both their shock, the reverse is… Kind of hot?
Or Husk realizes being called daddy and calling Angel daddy feels entirely different.
