#husk fluff

[jamesdeanbby]

────۶ৎ kitty cat

or... a very drunk husk finding his way into your warm hands !!

warnings : poly radiohusk!!

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: ... YES I DO STILL SHIP RADIOHUSK IN THE BIG 2025, HATE ME IF YOU WANT (i also ship radiosilence/radiostatic tho)

( 🏷 @callme-holly , @johnnycadesslut , @cozm1xxx , , @nobleknightmonster )

The opulent suite, a study in delightful contradiction, was your sanctuary. One door led to a room of dark, art-deco elegance, all sharp angles, deep crimson, and the faint, metallic scent of ozone and old radio static—Alastor’s domain. The other opened into a space of soft, mid-century modern comfort, warm woods, plush fabrics, and the gentle aroma of your favorite perfume and old books—your own. They were bridged by a sprawling living area that somehow married both aesthetics into a chaotic, harmonious whole, a perfect reflection of the two powerful entities who called it home.

It was here, nestled on a velvet chesterfield sofa, that the world narrowed to a point of intense, quiet intimacy. A single glass of blood-dark wine was held between your hands, Alastor’s long, claw-tipped fingers resting just beside yours on the stem. You weren't drinking. This wasn't about the wine. It was about the proximity, the shared space, the silent conversation passing between you.

His head was tilted towards yours, your foreheads nearly touching. The ever-present, crackling hum of his static was a low, comforting thrum in the air, a private frequency only the two of you truly inhabited. His smile, that infamous, razor-sharp thing, was softer now, not a weapon of intimidation but a genuine, if crooked, curve of affection reserved solely for these moments. You were tracing the line of his jaw with your eyes, and he was watching you do it, his crimson gaze warm with a possessiveness that felt more like devotion. This was your version of sex, of prayer, of a binding ritual—this silent, all-consuming communion.

The moment was shattered, not violently, but comically, by a muffled thump and a low, grumbling curse from the hallway.

Both of you didn't startle. You simply… paused. Your gaze flickered towards the suite door, and Alastor’s smile widened a fraction, a spark of amusement lighting his eyes. The door creaked open to reveal a spectacularly inebriated Husk.

He was a magnificent disaster. His wings were slightly askew, one drooping lower than the other. His tie was loosened, his shirt rumpled, and he was swaying on his feet with the gentle, precarious rhythm of a metronome set to a jazz beat only he could hear. His feline eyes, usually sharp with cynicism, were glazed over, pupils blown wide. He was looking less like a formidable former Overlord and more like a ship lost in a typhoon. 

He blinked slowly, scanning the room before his gaze landed on the two of you on the couch.

A low, rumbling sound, something between a purr and a grunt of recognition, escaped him. He made a beeline for you, his trajectory less a straight line and more a series of determined, wobbly arcs.

"S'lright. 'M back." he slurred, coming to a teetering halt before the sofa. He looked from Alastor to you, his ears twitching, then back to you. There was no anger at the intimate scene he'd interrupted, only a drunken, single-minded focus. Alastor didn't look mad in the slightest. In fact, a low, staticky chuckle bubbled up from his chest.

"My, my, Husker," Alastor crooned, his voice a symphony of delight. "It appears you've attempted to drink an entire distillery dry. A successful evening at the tables, I take it?"

Husk bristled, but it was a passive, half-hearted thing. His ears flattened for a second before perking up again as you set the wine glass down on a side table. You looked him over, this proud, broken man reduced to a wobbly, intoxicated mess, and your heart swelled with an affection so profound it had to find an outlet.

Husk bristled, a passive, sluggish thing. His ears twitched, and he let out another incoherent mumble, shuffling further into the room. His trajectory was unmistakably, instinctively, towards you.

You leaned forward slightly, adopting that specific tone you used only for him—a syrupy, cooing cadence that was pure, undiluted affection. "Oh, my dear… look at you. Did you have a big night, my sweet boy?"

The effect was instantaneous and devastating. Husk’s head snapped towards you as if pulled by a string. His ears shot up, standing perfectly straight and alert, every hair on end. His pupils, already wide, dilated further until his golden irises were mere thin rings around vast, black saucers. His tail, which had been drooping, gave a tentative, hopeful swish.

Alastor threw his head back and laughed, a full, unfiltered sound of pure glee. He leaned into your side, his shoulder pressing against yours, his glee palpable. "Oh, bravo, my dear! You have him wrapped around your little finger! Look at him! A simple sound and he's putty in your hands!"

Husk ignored him, his entire world having narrowed to the sound of your voice and the open, welcoming expression on your face. He took a clumsy step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and did it—he gave you a slow, deliberate, trusting blink. A cat's kiss.

Alastor saw it and pounced. "Aww, was that a blink of affection? For us? How precious!" He simply couldn't resist. He reached out, his long, slender fingers gently tugging on one of Husk's sensitive whiskers. "Hello there, kitty cat. Did you have a fun little outing?"

Husk recoiled with a half-hearted hiss, swatting vaguely at Alastor's hand. "Piss off, Smiles..."

"Now, now, none of that. Alastor, be nice." you chided gently, your voice still holding that melodic, cooing quality. You didn't scold Alastor, merely opened your arms in a clear, inviting gesture. "Come here, sweetheart. You look like you're about to fall over."

Husk didn't hesitate for a microsecond. All pretense of grumpy independence evaporated. He practically fell into the space between you and Alastor, his body melting against yours with a heavy, boneless thud. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, a low, rumbling purr erupting from his chest so powerfully you could feel it vibrating through your own bones. The scent of expensive whiskey, old cards, and Husk filled your senses.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your other hand coming up to gently stroke the fur between his ears. "There now," you murmured, nuzzling the top of his head. "What got you into such a state, hmm? Did you have a good night at the tables?"

"Won... s' much," he slurred into your neck, his words muffled by your skin and fur. "Cleaned the whole damn place out. Buncha... fuckin' amateurs. Got a pile o' soul coins... bigger'n Niffty."

"Is that so?" you said, your voice laced with genuine pride. You continued to pet him, your fingers tracing soothing circles. "My clever boy. I knew you still had it in you."

Alastor hummed, a low, buzzing sound. "A most profitable evening indeed! I do hope you were... appropriately intimidating, my feline friend."

Alastor, thoroughly amused by this entire display, decided to escalate his own involvement. He reached across you, his long arm draping over the back of the couch behind Husk, and began to stroke one of Husk's twitching ears with a single, careful claw. It wasn't the gentle caress you would offer; it was possessive, teasing, a master petting a favored, if troublesome, creature.

"Such a talented kitty cat," Alastor purred, his voice dripping with mock-sweetness. "To bring such riches home to his owners."

Husk, whose inhibitions had been thoroughly drowned in whiskey, only purred louder, nuzzling deeper into your neck. The combined sensation of your gentle fingers in his fur and Alastor's deliberate, stimulating strokes on his sensitive ears was pushing him into a state of pure, drunken bliss. His guard was not just down; it was demolished.

"Gonna use it," Husk slurred, his voice a thick, happy murmur. "Gonna buy you… a real pretty ring. A big one. With a… a shiny stone.. one that matches your eyes or- or some shit.."

From behind him, Alastor went very still for a moment. The teasing strokes to Husk's ear paused as a low, approving hum resonated through his chest, vibrating through you. His crimson eyes flicked up to meet yours over Husk's head, a spark of surprise and deep, profound amusement glittering within them. Then, a wider, more approving smile graced his lips.

"Is that a fact?" Alastor's voice was a low, interested purr of its own. "Well, you'd best make it exceptionally pretty for this woman, Husker. Nothing less than the finest Hell has to offer would suffice."

The approval in Alastor's voice, the tacit permission, was like a drug to the drunken cat. Husk's purr intensified into a near-deafening roar. He was so drunk, so happy, so secure in this bizarre, coveted space between the two of you that his mouth ran away from him completely.

"Yeah... yeah! The prettiest. An'... an'..." He lifted his head slightly, his glazed eyes trying to focus on Alastor's face. "I'll get you one too, you smug bastard. For... for lettin' me."

The silence that followed was electric. Then, Alastor laughed—a loud, sharp, genuinely startled bark of laughter that echoed through the suite. It was so abrupt it made Husk flinch further into you, slightly.

You immediately shushed Alastor, but you did it with a fond smile, You reached up, cupping Alastor's cheek and turning his face towards you. "Hush, you'll hurt his feelings," you whispered, before leaning in and pressing a soft, lingering peck to the corner of his smiling mouth. You felt his static buzz against your lips, a sign of his contentment. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your own sparkling with mischief and love. "And I think you'd look terribly handsome with a ring, my love."

Alastor looked from your earnest, loving face to the back of Husk's purring head, then back to you. His booming laughter subsided into a soft, staticky chuckle. The resistance he might have offered anyone else, for any other reason, simply didn't exist for you. Your word was his law, your whims his command. He leaned his head against yours, his smile softening once more.

"Whatever you say, my dear," he conceded, his voice a whisper of static and surrender. "Whatever you say."

[writteninlunarlight-years]

How they show affection to you throughout the relationship TW: AFAB Reader, Sexual implications, Cringey men, MY SHITTY ASS WRITERS BLOCK

Lucifer

In the beginning, your story together was anything but perfect. He held unyeilding views about sinners, and in his eyes, you were nothing more than a psychopathic killer, a hopeless drug addict, or even, heaven forbid, a demonic radio host.

Yet somehow, you brought joy into his life. Your corny puns and lighthearted jokes became the new normal for his troubled soul. You consistently put him first, even when you didn’t have to, your calm, gentle smile illuminating the darkest corners of his small world.

It truly began with the small gestures—special nicknames that he lovingly crafted just for you. One fateful day, he became visibly upset when Charlie dared to use the same nickname. He sulked for days, unable to shake off the irritation that someone else had used his personal nickname he made just for you.

As your connection deepened, he began expressing his feelings through lingering touches. Afraid to voice the vastness of his emotions, he sought to convey his affection subtly. He would hold your hand a fraction too long during exchanges, his fingers brushing against yours with a hesitant familiarity. When he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingered against your skin just a moment longer. He would pull you close, his hand resting possessively around your waist, silently claiming you as his own.

Eventually, the weight of his unspoken feelings became too much to bear. He opted for indirect confessions, praising your beauty and grace instead of uttering the words "I love you," which once led to heartache. He swept you off your feet, whether in a playful dance or as you strolled through the infernal streets of Hell, reveling in the joy of simply being together.

The moment of true confession came unexpectedly while Kattie Killjoy was out on the road with her camera crew. She stopped you both, curious about the new sinner who had captured King Lucifer's attention. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled you into a passionate kiss, declaring to the Hell's rings that you were his.

That kiss sparked a meaningful conversation about the future of your relationship and the love that had been quietly brewing between you for so long. From that moment, Lucifer began guiding you, helping you find your footing as Hell's next queen, all the while cherishing the fact that you chose to stand by his side.

Alastor

He didn’t hate you; instead, he regarded you as a mere plaything—a soul eager to make a deal, much like countless others before you. To him, people were simply pawns in a grand game, assets he could exploit over time. Yet, he never anticipated the profound impact you would have on his life.

Your calm presence was soothing, like the perfect Jazz song on a long night. You found joy in learning about his past, willingly immersing yourself in the world of Jazz, and becoming an enthusiastic participant. It warmed his heart to know he had at least one dedicated listener who wasn’t bound to him by ownership.

He couldn’t help but notice the way your hands lingered near him, a delicate dance of respect and curiosity. Your decision to take up dancing lessons at Mimzy’s work didn’t go unnoticed either. He appreciated your efforts far more than he would ever admit, silently cherishing the way you sought to connect with him.

It quickly became apparent to everyone in Hell—save for the two of you—that something special was blossoming between you. Your every move was shadowed by a newfound intimacy, and Alastor always seemed prepared with an extra outfit for dancing, making it almost too easy for others to see the affection that was growing between you.

Alastor, recognizing your hesitation to risk hurting him, decided to take the plunge and make the first move. He whisked you away to Mimzy’s dance hall, where you spent the night twirling and swaying together. While dancing was not unusual for you two, it was during the slow songs that he drew you impossibly close, enveloping you in a warmth that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

The truth of your shared feelings came to light when Rosie danced by and playfully remarked on how cute and deadly the two of you appeared together. With a broad smile illuminating his face, Alastor looked down at you, and before you could process the moment, he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

This kiss ignited a whirlwind of chaos around you—a symphony of Mimzy’s complaints, Rosie’s laughter, and the distant hum of TV static as carnage erupted in the streets, instigated by an irate man who had glimpsed a glitchy, blurry photo of your exchange. Although the man who snapped the picture met a swift end, the image ultimately found its way into Vox’s hands, setting off a chain reaction of consequences.

Adam

He was the first man, the quintessential figure, the one and only Adam of the Garden of Eden. With an aura of irresistible charm, he dismissed the notion of singular love or romance, believing he needed a multitude of women to satisfy his desires. Sweet, innocent feelings had no place in his world—at least, that’s what he thought.

Little did he know, you were slowly weaving your way into the fabric of his heart. You were the epitome of a perfect angel, obedient and charmingly polite. Initially, he found your demeanor a tad annoying, but as night fell, his imagination transformed you into the devoted wife he never knew he craved.

Over time, his nicknames for you evolved from crude jests to tender pet names, each one reserved solely for you. If anyone dared to inquire about this softer side, he would scoff, brushing it off as if it never happened. The same went for the fleeting touches—his instinct to stand closely behind you, resting his head on yours or your shoulder—he would never confess to being utterly smitten.

His feelings became undeniable when even the mere mention of Eve or Lilith in your presence ignited a fierce jealousy within him. He yearned to shout from the rooftops that you were the one—the "it girl" who had captured his heart. You were his forever, the beginning and the end.

To solidify these feelings and coax you into his embrace, he made it his mission to cling to you, undeterred by gossip or judgment. He wanted you to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his devotion to you matched yours to him.

The pivotal moment that brought your lips together was orchestrated by Lute, who quite literally pushed you into Adam. Just as he was grappling with cold feet, he found himself frozen in place, your wide, sparkling eyes locked on his. In a whirlwind of surprise, Lute nudged you forward, and as he instinctively caught you, one hand on your lower back and the other tangling in your hair, he realized your hands were resting on his chest. In that electric moment, your lips met, sealing a connection neither of you anticipated.

From that day forward, Lute took immense pride in her matchmaking skills. Whenever Adam wasn’t around, she reveled in bragging about how she had transformed the notorious “massive asshole” into a devoted boyfriend, silencing his incessant boasts about his past conquests. This victory was a personal triumph for her and a welcome relief for the other exorcists, who were finally spared from his relentless chatter about your perfect form.

Husk

He had never been on the lookout for love—not even before his untimely demise. To him, it felt like a distant fantasy, something lost in the chaos of his life. As a gambling man with a penchant for risk, he often found that women were put off by his reckless ways and his struggle with alcohol.

But then you entered his life, and it took far too long for him to realize that his drinking had lessened, replaced by an increasing fascination with you. You became his unexpected remedy, igniting an obsession with your radiant smile and infectious laughter. Your genuine spirit shone brightly, even when the world felt heavy and overwhelming.

He transformed your drinks into special concoctions, always incorporating your favorites—whether they were alcoholic or not. Each glass was adorned with playful fruits and whimsical garnishes aimed at coaxing your smile.

One day, he casually suggested that you help him clean the bar, seizing the opportunity to brush his fingers against your lower back or hold your hands, delighting in the warmth of your presence.

He longed to take a step toward something more official, but with Charlie’s exuberance and Alastor’s unpredictable nature, commitment felt daunting. Yet, it was clear to everyone in the hotel how deeply he cherished you. Encouraged by their nudges, he finally gathered the courage to ask you out, only to stumble over his words and blurt out a clumsy, unrelated question that only made you smile wider.

Determined to make his intentions clear, he devised a plan to ask you out on his own terms. He orchestrated a lovely meal and implored everyone in the hotel to vacate for the afternoon. Once the scene was set, everything fell into place. Your laughter at his classy magic tricks and the sweet rhythm of your conversation made him realize—this was love blooming in its purest form.

When he finally confessed, he was beaming—a remarkable feat for someone who rarely wore a smile. Your genuine warmth and unwavering affection were all that mattered to him, melting away his grumpy exterior.

From that moment on, Husk transformed into a new man. He found purpose in his days, a reason to look forward to the end of his shifts. Yes, the looming presence of the radio demon still weighed on his mind, but you were there, ready to fill the void in his heart with everything he had always longed for.

Vox

You were nothing more than an assistant in his eyes—just a cog in the machine while he juggled the chaotic dynamics of his half-hearted relationship with Val and Vel. Love felt like a distraction; all he craved was power and the sweet satisfaction of seeing Alastor kneeling before him.

Yet, you were an infuriating thorn in his side, clad in alluring short skirts and stockings, flashing a smile that could light up the darkest corners of Hell. Each comment from Val or Vel about you ignited a possessive spark within him. He wanted you all to himself, and he was determined to keep it that way.

The nature of your interactions began to change, starting innocently with the passing of papers or showcasing new products on the tablet. But it quickly escalated to lingering touches—his hands resting possessively on your waist, gentle massages on your shoulders, and teasing breaths against your neck as he leaned in to whisper.

He was intent on making you want him, but pride held him back from crawling to you; that would be too undignified. Instead, he resolved to ensure you needed him just as much. One promise rang clear in his mind: he would never, ever use his hypnosis against you.

His feelings became undeniable the day Val cornered you, a tense moment exacerbated by his foul mood, thanks to Angel Dust’s antics and the fact that you had captured Vox's attention. What began as a heated conversation erupted into a full-blown brawl between the two men, both vying for your affection in one way or another.

When Vox emerged victorious, albeit with a few scrapes, he was seething. But the moment you approached him, your worried eyes searching his, everything shifted. In that instant, he realized you were the one—the only one he would ever need. Forget Alastor on his knees; it was you he craved at his side.

With one passionate kiss, he made his feelings clear, giving Val a defiant middle finger as you and Vox ignited headlines across Hell with your new love story. He would do anything for you—truly anything—and he meant every word.

[bigproblemsfunnylife]

Beneath the Fur: Husk in Love

“Angel Dust” ; “Alastor”

Title: Headcanons

Pairing: Husk x GN! Reader

CW: Mild drinking references, light mentions of possessiveness/territorial feelings.

—It starts slow. Husk doesn’t trust easy. You had to chip away at his walls with genuine kindness, never pushing.

—He never admits he likes you first. But you start noticing: he saves you the comfiest seat, pours your drink first, doesn’t snap when you talk too long.

—You two have a kind of quiet bond. Not loud or dramatic. Husk likes it that way.

—He acts annoyed when you sit behind the bar to keep him company, but never tells you to leave. Secretly? He looks forward to it.

—He grumbles when you call him cute nicknames like “Husky,” “Captain Grump,” or “Fluffbutt,” but never tells you to stop. (Sometimes he hides a smirk when you’re not looking.)

—You started putting aspirin in his coat pockets. He pretends not to notice, but one night you heard him mutter, “They’re too good for me…” under his breath.

—Husk rarely initiates touch, but the first time he leaned his head on your shoulder? You stopped breathing for five seconds. He mumbled, “Don’t make a thing out of it.”

—He’s not big on PDA, but when you’re alone? He melts. Nuzzles. Little headbutts. Tail curling around your ankle.

—He holds your hand like it’s fragile and rare. You once caught him tracing the lines of your palm with his claw.

—If you fall asleep next to him, he’ll cover you with his wings, curl protectively around you, and tell anyone who comes close to “Buzz off before I claw your face off.”

—He purrs. He denies he purrs. But rest your hand on his chest long enough and that soft rumble betrays him.

—He rarely talks about his past, but with you? He starts to share little pieces, old regrets, quiet fears, things he doesn’t understand about himself.

—You never pry. That’s why he trusts you. One night, when he was too drunk to hide behind sarcasm, he told you: “You make it all hurt less.”

—When he’s overwhelmed, you don’t talk, you just sit next to him and gently scratch behind his ears. He never asks. You just know.

—He once said, “I ain’t good for anyone, y’know.” You kissed the top of his head and whispered, “You’re good for me.” He didn’t speak for a full minute.

—You both drink together sometimes, not to get drunk, just to unwind. He likes when you lean on him and talk while the lights are low.

—He keeps little things you give him: a drawing, a note, even a broken trinket. They’re tucked away in a drawer he never lets anyone touch.

—You make him laugh, which is rare. It’s low, raspy, and caught off guard. He’ll shake his head like he’s annoyed but his eyes crinkle in the corners.

—He wakes you up with coffee. Doesn’t say anything—just sets it down and grumbles, “Don’t say I never do nothin’ nice.”

—Husk doesn’t brag, but if someone flirts with you, he’s suddenly very territorial. “Back off. They’re with me. Go flirt with a cactus.”

—Angel teases you two nonstop. Husk just glares until Angel backs off. (Or tries to.)

—Charlie and Vaggie are supportive. Husk pretends not to care but definitely blushes under the fur when they say, “You’re good together.”

—Alastor is far too curious. Husk keeps you close and growls anytime the Radio Demon shows interest in you.

[hazbinshusk]

husk x gn!reader. fluffy little ditty in which husk becomes more and more frustrated with the attention you give the hotel's other feline resident everyday. especially when said attention inadvertently activates his own cat-like tendencies. anonymous request. 1.4k.

You look up from your book at the sound of Husk’s annoyed little grunt, a small smile twitching across your lips as you watch him wave away KeeKee – who had wandered along the back of the sofa behind him and was now trying to step down over his wing and onto his shoulder. Warding her away while trying not to spill his coffee, he scowls, and you set your book aside, holding back a laugh. He is always so hostile towards the cyclopean feline, and while it’s easy to guess why, you still find it a little amusing.

Taking pity on him, you catch the smaller cat’s attention by clicking your fingers enticingly. It takes a lot of self-control to stop yourself from laughing again when both KeeKee and Husk’s ears perk up in identical flicks of curiosity at the sound and turn their attention to you.

“Hi, KeeKee,” you coo, holding your hand out to her. “Hi, baby!”

The cat lets out a little ‘prr?’ of interest, abandoning her attempt to climb Husk’s arm to jump down onto the coffee table between you and approach on dainty, silent feet.

Husk spares you a quick, grateful smile before settling back in his seat, eyes closing, coffee cup warming his thigh. KeeKee hesitates when she reaches the edge of the coffee table, her large eye focused on you and her ears pointed together so the little heart marking is complete. You click your fingers again, summoning her with the clichéd little ‘ps-ps-ps’ that always seems to work wonders on cats.

She hops across the gap and into your lap, and you grin, immediately reaching up between her ears to rub your fingers through silky fur. She purrs, pressing up into your hand in order to lead your fingers down her back. She curls up into your lap comfortably after a moment, eye closed.

“What?”

You look up, confused. “Huh?”

Husk is watching you with a raised eyebrow. “What d’you want?”

“…What’re you talking about?”

“Didn’t you jus’…” he frowns for a moment, and you’re surprised to see color appear in his cheeks. He clears his throat, busying himself by taking a sip of his coffee. He mumbles the next words into his cup. “Never mind. It’s nothin’.”

You watch him for a moment, bemused, until KeeKee presses her head up into your palm and steals your attention away. “Okay…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“D’you think starting a fire would maybe get us out of the group activity tomorrow?”

“A fire?”

“Just a small one,” you reason jokingly, smiling up at the bartender in front of you, chin resting in your palm. “My back is killing me.”

“Mm,” he hums in what could be sympathy, if it wasn’t for the amusement curving his lips. “Poor baby.”

“Hey, you’re not allowed to call me ‘baby’ when you’re making fun of me.” you tell him, sliding your glass back across the bar top when he tilts a bottle your way in a wordless offer for a refill. “It messes with my head if I’m insulted and horny.”

Husk coughs as he chokes on his drink, and you grin. Wiping his mouth with the back of his paw, he shakes his head at you. “Fuckin’ Christ, doll.”

You snicker, leaning forward on your elbows over the bar. Husk’s expression warms into one of affection, and he moves to meet your lips with his…

Only to stop short with a deafening sneeze as soft white fur feathers its way under his nose.

“Fuck!”

You laugh aloud as Husk sneezes again, scooping KeeKee up out of harm’s way, the toy she’d brought with her falling from her mouth and onto the bar. She rubs her face against your collarbone contentedly, the offending tail still waving back and forth in a lazy rhythm. You grimace sympathetically at Husk as he turns to glare at the little creature.

“Fuckin’ cat…”

“Hey, none of that,” you admonish teasingly, you hold KeeKee up to meet her eye. She bumps her nose against yours. Your tone turns childish and playful. “She didn’t mean it, did you, Keeks? Besides, she’s just the cutest little kitty in all of Hell, aren’t you?”

You lean to the side to look past her and meet Husk’s unimpressed stare. “Well… second cutest.”

“Funny.”

“Aw…” you set KeeKee back on the bar, reaching over and wrapping your fingers around one of his suspenders and tugging him towards you. His stomach meets the edge of the wood, and you lean up again, successfully meeting his mouth in a sweet kiss this time. You pull back ever-so-slightly, smirking. “Don’t be jealous, baby.”

He grumbles something under his breath but relents and kisses you again, more firmly this time. You feel his hand come up to whisper against your cheek before a sudden, loud squeak shatters the moment and he pulls away with an irritated sigh. A tiny, cattish complaint sounds underneath it as he watches KeeKee bite down on the toy again.

You pout sympathetically up at him, batting the plush little mouse back and forth between your hands for KeeKee to chase. She did just that, and you giggle as she tries to smack her paws down on top of it over and over again. You notice the twitching of Husk’s tail, back and forth behind him, out of the corner of your eye, but you think of it as nothing more than his continued irritation with KeeKee.

You jump as Husk’s paw suddenly traps the toy beneath its claws, your eyes snapping up to his face in surprise. The bartender is staring down at his hand with wide eyes and dilated pupils, tail still twitching and what you can swear is the beginnings of a satisfied smile on his lips. There’s a second’s pause before he blinks, his brow furrowing. His gaze flashes up to meet yours, and he clears his throat, withdrawing his hand. “I, uh… jus’ not on the bar, okay?”

You try to hold back your amusement, giving him a serious nod. “Okay.”

He glares at you. “Shut up.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it,” he says, pointing a claw at you. “Not a word.”

You toss the toy aside, Keekee bounding away after it. You stand, leaning over the bar to bump your nose against his. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you murmur, “Never, baby.”

He grumbles quietly, but that doesn’t stop him from catching your cheek as you turn away and bringing you back in, finally, for a real kiss.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Stupid goddamned cat.” Husk groans into his half-gone whiskey glass before pressing it to his forehead in hopes that the ice-chilled glass will ease his headache.

“Hey,” you say softly, humor playing on your features. You open the door long enough to set the trashcan and the dustpan and brush outside before closing it with a quiet snap. “She’s not the one who got into my catnip stash.”

He frowns at you from beneath the glass. “She’s the reason you’ve got it.”

You’d come upstairs to find an incredibly stoned Husk laying on your carpet, the little plastic bag of catnip from your drawer spilled all over the floor. It had taken almost an hour to get him to sit upright, and another twenty minutes for him to sober up enough to stop trying to make out with your neck and actually tell you what happened.

“Who says that it wasn’t for you?”

He glares, and you chuckle, stepping across the scene of the crime and coming to join him on the bed. He was leaning back against the pillows, and he sets the glass aside as you crawl up beside him and curl into his side. He wraps his arm and a wing around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“From now on,” you promise him quietly, mindful of his nip-induced migraine. “This room is a cat-free zone, aside from those with bartending skills. Deal?”

He hums against your hair, lips still pressed there. “Deal.”

“And I also promise to not tell anyone that you greened out like a high-school kid after a pep rally.”

He chuckles despite himself, eyes closing as he tucks his chin up over the crown of your head. He exhales happily as he feels you press a kiss to his throat. “Much appreciated, doll.”

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I wanted to request something for Husk, if that's alright! Their rooms are next to each other, and Husk just so happens to hear her cry. Reader is not being loud, she just couldn't hold back a particularly strong sob and he heard her. He keeps listening and now that he is paying close attention, he can hear soft sobbing. He goes to check in on her and she apologizes for waking him up, but is too shy to admit she was crying right away. I would love to see some fluff/comfort! Thank you <3

This is adorable! I love love love writing fluff. Thanks for the request! This turned out a bit angstier than I planned, but I think it balances out nicely with the fluff. If you want one that's just purely fluff, please message me and I will be happy to rewrite/write another! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Husk x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Weapons, Drink Spiking, Alcohol

Word Count: 1809

“This Night has Opened my Eyes” - Husk x Reader

Today had been a long day. And that’s the understatement of the year. This was the day that you and the other residents of the hotel had been planning on for months… the war against the angels. You had prepped weapons, defense, and plans all of yesterday, but nothing could have stopped the inevitable bloodshed that accompanied war. Angels were cruel, fierce beings that didn't care about the lives of sinners so long as they increased their “kill count.” They hunt sinners for sport, and nothing, not even the princess of Hell, was going to stand in their way. 

This was evident when Adam and the angels mercilessly broke through the forcefield that Alastor had cast around the hotel. Fuck. That was you and your friends’ only shot at winning this battle. As you scan your environment to assess how many angels are coming at you, you also assess the casualties among your newly found “battalion”. So many of Rosie’s cannibals were surrounding you, dead. The sight was awful. Families, all with hopes and dreams, lay crushed beneath your feet. You look around for any signs of life from your friends, seeing Angel wielding 6 machine guns and… was that Sir Pentious and Cherri kissing? Never mind that, you had one person and one person only on your mind… your boyfriend Husk. Last night, you were expressing how worried you are about the possibility that one (or both) of you may not make it out of this war alive. He assured you that he could hold his own, particularly worried about you. You trusted your fighting abilities, but if something happened to Husk and you weren’t there to help him, you don't think you would ever be able to forgive yourself.

You find yourself facing your worst nightmare after fighting off two particularly feisty exterminators. You turn a corner of the horribly wrecked hotel to continue your search for Husk, only to be met with your boyfriend’s injured body laying on the ground, struggling to crawl to shelter. 

“HUSK!” you shout, running to him and helping him up. 

When your hands moved to his back to guide him to shelter, you noticed that something was missing. His - his wings. They were brutally ripped off of his back, leaving only grotesque stubs where they used to be. 

“Oh- Oh my Satan, we need to get you the fuck out of here. Why didn't you call for me? For anyone?!”

“I- I didn't want anyone-” he struggles to finish his sentence, fading in and out of consciousness. “I didn't want anyone to get hurt”

You managed to essentially drag him just out of sight of the exterminators, behind a particularly dull-looking building. You used any loose pieces of clothing that you could spare to put together a makeshift-bandage, only half-stopping the blood that was seeping from his back. 

“I’m sorry… you’ll be okay. Please be okay. I’ll make you okay.” you say as he winces from the pain. 

And for the first time in your life, you prayed.

To whom, it was unknown. I doubt the prayers of the damned are granted, but you needed more than anything for this to just be a bad dream. 

************************************************************************

As you wake up, your body is drenched in a cold sweat and tears are streaming down your face. You realize that this was all some fucked up dream, but the fact that it could become a reality very soon terrified you. You simply couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face, small sobs escaping from your lips. 

You reach your side table for your phone, only to see that it’s 3:42 AM. Damn, you really hoped you weren’t being too loud right now. Stifling tears, you notice several missed texts from Angel:

_____________________________________________________________

[12:00 AM]

💬Angel: I saw what he put in there, i dont think its deadly… might give you a wild trip tho. but i gave the guy a good beat down on ur behalf lmaooo ;) Left u in ur room to sleep it off, didnt want any idiots to seeya like that

[12:34 AM]

💬Angel: bitch whyd you lock ur door :(

[1:00 AM]

💬Angel: Y/N are you up yet?????

💬Angel: shitshitshitshit

💬Angel: Pls text me when you get up!!!!

____________________________________________________________

Reading these texts suddenly flooded you with memories of the night before (or, really, a couple hours ago.)

You and Angel Dust had decided that, fuck it, if the extermination was coming in a few days, you might as well party like there’s no tomorrow. Heading to the nearest club, you guzzled beelzejuice like it was the last thing in Hell and maybeee fucked around and flirted with a couple guys. As one of the guys you were talking to brought you a drink while Angel was on the dance floor, you downed it and started dancing with him. It wasn’t until your vision started fading that you realized that this asshole spiked your drink. Luckily, Angel was able to spot the signs from across the way and immediately scooped you up and brought you back to the hotel, screaming at the guy as you left. According to his text, I guess Angel went back to the club and fucked the guy up a bit, which made you feel a bit better. Sometimes experiences like these remind you that, yeah, you’re still in Hell. 

Remembering this only made you cry more. The tears flowed for a multitude of reasons: you were so angry that someone had the balls to spike your drink - to spike ANYONE’S drink! You were also so mad at yourself for allowing some rando to buy you a drink without you looking. You were also so grateful that Angel had such a watchful eye and cared for you so much. You guessed that the hallucinogen the man spiked you with was the cause of your terrifyingly hyper-realistic dream. 

You then remember what time it is, realizing that you had let a particularly loud sob escape your mouth. Shit. You really hoped that nobody woke up because of your crying. That would be embarrassing… to say the least. This thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Damnit. 

“Who is it?” you ask.

“It’s me,” Husk replies. 

Husk had heard your quiet sobs from the next room over and was listening by your door. As he heard that the cries weren’t dissipating, he decided to check on you. You quickly tried to hide any evidence that you were crying, wiping your tears on your sleeve and trying to eliminate any signs of redness on your face.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Can I come in?” Husk replies.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” you say, waiting for him to enter.

“Hello?” you ask.

“It’s locked.” he replies.

You remember Angel’s text with a small laugh and get up to open your door, taking one more precaution to wipe your face before doing so. You open the door to see Husk’s tired yet worried face.

“You ok?” you ask him.

“I think I should be asking you that.” he says while entering your room, leaving you standing at the doorway. 

“Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I heard you crying from my room.” he says, looking at you worriedly.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, it’s, like, 4AM.” you reply, trying to seem nonchalant and like he was the one interrupting your sleep.

“Okay, I may be tired, but I’m not dumb.” he says, matter-of-factly. 

“I wasn’t crying! I was probably just snoring or something.” You take his hand into yours. “But, I appreciate you checking up on me. Okaygoodnightseeyouinthemorningbyeeeeee!” you say while trying to lead him to the door.

“Sure.” he says, clearly calling your bluff. “You do know you can always talk to me, right? That’s what I’m here for, hon.” he says, genuinely looking into your eyes while holding both of your hands. His pure care for you overpowers any urge to hide your emotions from him, and you exhale.

“Fine. I was crying.” you confess.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess.” you lead him back to sit on your bed. 

“I- I went out with Angel last night. I think, if i can remember, some guy spiked my drink with what I assume is a hallucinogen.” You could see Husk becoming visibly angry. “Anyways, Angel got me out of there before anything bad could happen. I guess I came back up here and passed out, but I had a horrible dream.”

“You better have a description of the guy so I can beat his ass to a bloody pulp-”

“No. It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“The nightmare… it was-”

“That’s what this is all about? It couldn’t have been that bad-” he asks.

“No, you don't get it. It was extermination day… the angels were ruthless. I looked around and I… I couldn't find you anywhere. I fought angels and searched relentlessly for you, only to find you left for dead with your-” you shift in your seat, the mere thought of the nightmare making you upset. “-With your wings torn off. I tried saving you, but I just knew… I just knew you wouldn't make it.” 

As you stare into the distance, clearly bothered, Husk realizes just how much this scared you. When he first heard that all of this commotion was about a nightmare, he was surprised. You weren’t exactly one to get too emotional at the slightest of things, so this was new for you. But Husk realized why this was different. This nightmare was a very, very real possibility and a decently rational fear. There really was no telling what would happen come extermination day.

“How about this,” he says, placing one of his hands on your shoulder.

“Tonight, we forget about all of this. Extermination, angels, all of it. I’ll sleep in here and we can cuddle, you can talk to me or just fall asleep. We can sleep in as late as you want and just be here, in this room, right now. Just in this moment, you and I. How does that sound?” He asks.

This tenderness from Husk, though he is your boyfriend, was refreshing. He truly knew how to calm you down when you needed it most. 

Nodding your head, you both get under the warm covers of your bed. You rest your head on Husk’s chest, savoring the slow movements of his breaths. As he moves his hand to stroke your hair, you slowly start to fall into a deep and peaceful slumber. As you both basked in each other’s warmth, Husk’s soothing purring made its way into your ears, the music of your dreams. No amount of money in Hell could get you to gamble away the pure jackpot you held in your arms on this night.

[cannibalbuffe]

You have a preference for fluff? Hey, me too!!

I hope that in such case you'd be willing to write some fluffy headcanons for Husk; what would he be like, with a reader that loves cuddling with him?

Because I would totally be like that, always looking for hugs and stuff justtt to hear him purring ^_^

Fluff gang! 🤜

And you are so right, cuddling with Husk must be very nice... Fluffy guy. (Unless you are severely allergic to cats, like me. Still would be worth it though.)

This could be a bit ooc, I've never written for these characters, so sorry about that. Hope you enjoy!

Fluffy Husk headcannons w/ very cuddly reader!

(gn reader, can be read as either romantic or platonic.)

› First of all, I feel like Husk isn't really one to seek out cuddles himself. At least not initially.

› If you two aren't close and you ask for it, you'll just get a no (or variations of no.)

› (Although I can see him reluctantly agreeing to it if you're very drunk and very sad and hug him all "ohhh, Husk, my life is terrible waaaa" and he just sighs, rolls his eyes and gives you a few taps on the back, like "there, there... Now get off of me.")

› BUT! If you're already close and you've been respectful of his boundaries, that changed things.

› Even if he's still just as grumpy as usual, he would find it endearing that you like cuddling with him so much.

› Might even be surprised that you would want to do that with him, I don't think anyone has ever asked that.

› The first time it happened he would go silent for a bit, but, still reluctantly, agree.

› "You want to cuddle with me?... Fine. But only for a little bit."

› The difference is that he just doesn't ask you to stop. Unless he has to do something that he can't do while you're cuddling.

› Or if Alastor enters the room.

› If anyone questions this, hell just respond with "that's none of your business."

› Since you're his dear friend, or more than that, he even finds it comforting.

› In comes... the purring.

› Purrrrrrrrrr...

› "Enjoying yourself, Husk?"

› "Well, I supposed it's... It's nice. I could get used to this."

› If you mention him being fluffy he's just gonna chuckle.

› If you mention the purring, though, he might get a bit flustered.

› If you do it oftenly enough he gets worried when you don't ask to cuddle him.

› And if you're feeling bad he will offer cuddles to cheer you up, since you like it so much.

› If you're extremely close and he's feeling particularly terrible, like, really, really terrible, he might even ask YOU for cuddles.

› He will be embarrassed about it, of course. But he trusts you.

› Basically, if you're in this situation you're very lucky. Enjoy the fluff! Literally and figuratively, haha.

[heartfeltcherie]

hi!!! can i start off by saying your writing is absolutely delicious. call me Ursula the way im finna steal your talent 😭

if this isn’t much of a bother, can i request husk x dog! reader? you can absolutely ignore this if it isn’t your cup of tea I won’t be offended 💥 💥

catch ya later!!!! (yes im a splatoon fan 😁)

CAT & DOG ᡣ𐭩

❀ summary; what it would be like to date husk as a sinner who is a dog !

❀ what to lookout for; use of petnames, lovey dovey stuff, slight suggestiveness at the end.

❀ extra notes; i'm so excited to post my first ever husk performance ! i hope you all enjoy !

- to start things off, you have floppy ears. like lady from lady and the tramp, just because i think she’s so cute.

- and husk absolutely LOVES playing with them because he loves how shy and flustered you tend to get.

- because he just stands there, behind the bar, with a smirk on his face as he fidgets with them between his fingers.

“husk, everyone is gonna stare at us”

“let ‘em, doll. can’t help that they’re so fuckin’ soft” husk continues fidgeting with your ears, leaning closer over the bar until your noses are almost touching. “‘sides, i know you like when i do this”

you let out a content hum. “can’t disagree with that”

- at first, everyone thought it was odd that a cat and dog sinner were together. except for charlie, she was the most supportive of you both and would not stop gushing to your faces about how cute she thought you both were. and to everyone else, for that matter.

- but then everyone realized that it was literally hell and stranger things have happened.

- you’re most definitely the only one husk lets touch his wings or fur.

- you know how sensitive his wings are so you’re always super careful.

- when he’s done working the bar for the day/night and he comes to lay in bed, you immediately start combing your fingers through his fur and you feel honoured to be the only one to hear him purr.

“right there, baby… mm, yeah… that’s the spot” husk is laying on his tummy as your fingers gently comb through his fur. you chuckle softly at him.

“y’know, for a grouchy bartender, you’re acting pretty soft and cute right now” you playfully joke at him. he hums, chuckling with you.

“maybe it’s because of the cute pup sitting next to me in my bed” and he looks up at you with a smirk on his face because he KNOWS that nickname makes you blush.

- oh yeah, husk calls you “pup”

- mainly when you’re alone. when you’re in public it’s the regular pet names.

- “baby,” “doll,” “sweetheart” etc.

- much like alastor, you tend to keep your tail hidden because you find it quite annoying.

- but when you and husk are alone, you let him play with it all he wants. tugging on it (gently), squeezing it.

- on the occasion, he’ll squeeze your tail in secret when you’re in the lobby, just because he loves seeing you get all riled up.

- he thinks it’s cute. and a little hot. okay, maybe, a lot hot.

- you definitely tell him that if he needs a dog, you can bark.

“this is the millionth time you’ve said this, babe…” husk grumbles and you laugh loudly.

“what can i say, i’ve got that dog in me” husk rolls his eyes at your silly statement.

“technically, wouldn’t you have that cat in you, doll face?” angel dust pipes up from his spot on the couch, a smirk on his face as you turn pink. husk looks at you with the same smirk as angel.

“now that’s more like it…”

❀ word count; 529

reblogs/hearts/comments and all that good stuff are appreciated !

audience; @crystalrayn @drxgonspine @alastorthirsty @speedycoffeedelight @alaskathestereodemoness

© heartfeltcherie

[mitch-the-silly]

Heyyyy! Could you do a oneshot with Husk and fem!reader where she and Angel are best friends and he's trying to be wingman and get them together??

Yesss!!! I love the Husk suggestions! I srsly love that old man... Anyway, I just KNOW Angie would be THE BEST wingman!!!

This is set before Angel and Husk bond, so passive-aggressive Husk and Angel ahead!

Husk x fem!reader

"Three's a Hangout, Minus One is a Date!"

From the couch of the lobby, you looked down at your phone. Thinking of getting a drink perhaps, since you didn't have anything to do on that particular day. But you could go without one, you were sure. 

However, your best friend who was sitting next to you thought otherwise. Angel Dust got up with a sigh and looked at the bar then at you. “Alright girl, let’s get some drinks. You know you wanna.” He chuckled.

“Ain’t it kind of early for drinks? It’s 3 pm.” You sighed, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. You’d told him you didn’t need him to do it, but it was sweet of him to try anyway.

He chuckled leaning down towards you, “With a bartender like yours, hon? It’s drinking hour every hour.” He whispered at you. “Alright get up bitch.” He added, grabbing your arm and lifting you up.

“Ugh, I swear…” You sighed, walking with him as he led you towards the bar. You looked up at the man behind it. Husk… he made you sigh, but you couldn’t tell him yourself. Not in a million years. He kept to himself and even Angel’s flirting disgusted him. You liked talking to him; it made your heart flutter.

“Hi, Huskie~” Angel waved at him, giggling coquettishly. Of course, it was just playful, he knew very well you liked him. His goal today was to get them to go out on a date.

“Don’t call me that.” Husk huffed.

“Whatever, my girly and I wanted to get some drinks. Just trynna have a good time here. She says you give good conversation, but in my experience you always reject me, so you better prove her right.” Angel spoke jokingly, sitting on one of the stools. You sat next to him, smiling at Husk and waving at him shyly. 

“Yeah, it’s 'cause she’s alright, unlike you, she ain’t full of shit.” Husk chuckled, shooting a friendly smile at you. You let out a small laugh at his comment.

“You’re lucky I’m here for a drink and not in the mood to argue.” Angel huffed, making himself comfortable. 

“Forgive him, you know how he is.” You chuckled, “Could I get a… uhh… I’m feeling mimosas, how about you Angie?”

“Whatever you’re havin’ toots. I trust ya.” He chuckled, checking his phone. But he was in fact not checking his phone. He was texting you.

You felt your phone buzz and you checked what the notification was for. Upon seeing a text from Angel, you opened it. 

Girl, talk to him. You’re just sitting there.

You sighed, readying yourself to listen to Angel’s suggestion. You looked at the way he was making your cocktail and admired it for a second. You didn't stop zoning out until Angel nudged you. 

“So, I know you’re technically forced to stay here, but do you like bartending? You seem to put a lot of effort into the drinks.” You asked him curiously.

“Guess it’s something I’ve had a knack for. I’d rather not be here, but it’s not as bad as I make it sound like.” He shrugged, giving you your mimosa and beginning to make Angel’s.

“If you weren’t here, where would you be? …Just out of curiosity.” You asked, hoping you weren’t overstepping.

“Hmm…” Husk hummed, pensive.

Angel continued to pretend he was on his phone, texting you in actuality.

You’re doing great, girly! <3

Go get him!

Don’t bombard him with questions tho

You know how he is

You kept his advice in mind, as you waited for Husk’s reply.

“Honestly, gamblin’ somewhere. Old habits die hard. But, as I said, it ain’t that bad being here. The princess’ got a bleeding heart, her girlfriend cares about her, Pentious looks like he’s doing better…  and you look happier than when you first walked in here.” He smiled, placing Angel’s drink before him.

“You think so?” You asked, feeling a slight blush scatter across your face.

“Sure, I mean, you didn’t talk much when ya’ got here. Now look at you.” He chuckled.

Angel, chuckled to himself, “You two should hang out more often. You guys seem like you would be good for each other.” 

“Angie-”

“Look! A new food joint opened up near the center of the Pentagram. We should go, all three of us. Charlie did say we had to fraternize more.” Angel suggested, stopping you from speaking anymore.

Husk huffed as if the idea was funny to him, “Even if I were to say yes, Alastor’s not gonna let me out of his sight.”

“Nuh-uh! I’ll just tell Charlie to talk to him. Come on! You should go with us! If not for me, do it for her!” He pleaded.

“If you can get him off my back, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He answered, cleaning some shot glasses.

“Oh, that’s awesome!” You smiled, squeezing your palms together, receiving a subtle wink from Angel and a nod from Husk.

Angel had followed through and begged and pleaded Charlie to talk to Alastor. Of course, upon hearing that it was to arrange a date between you and Husk, she immediately tried her best to convince Alastor. And due to Charlie’s words, he obliged.

So when the day came around, you were ecstatic but nervous. But Angel was gonna be there with the two of you, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. So you got ready with a cute outfit, prepared to go downstairs to the lobby and wait for Husk to get ready.

Angel said he had some errands to run for Val, so he’d meet the both of you there. Nothing to panic about, right?

You waited patiently, scrolling through your phone. Then you saw him at the top of the stairs. Fur slicked back and bow tie steamed out of any wrinkle. He wore something similar to what he always wore, but somewhat fancier (he already wore mostly formal wear). You felt a bit of red creep onto your cheeks.

“H-hey Husk!” You smiled, waving at him, “Angel said he had some errands to run for his boss, so he’d meet us there.” You informed him. He nodded at you and you got up to walk out of the Hotel with him. 

You two had some conversation on your way to the restaurant, and you were about to call Angel to see if he was on his way when you suddenly got a text from him 

I’ll be a little late, toots

You two pick a table for us 

Love ya <333

You sighed, but shrugged it off. Valentino was overbearing, and he’d been sort of mad at Angel lately and had given him more work. So you didn’t complain.

“Angel said he’s gonna be a bit late. He wants us to pick a table.” You spoke, seeing the restaurant’s sign a few blocks away.

“I figured, he’s busy isn’t he?” Husk responded.

“Yeah, but I don’t blame him. Valentino is kind of an asshole to his workers. Didn’t think he’d have work today, though.” You added, thinking about your friend’s situation.

“Guess when you put it that way, he doesn’t sound as fake as he is. But he’s always gotta hide behind that persona of his. You ought to tell him it’s not gonna get him anywhere.” Husk said, giving his two-sense on the topic.

“I try my best to, but I guess his persona is his escape. I’d rather not take that from him. It’s all he has left of confidence in himself.” You sighed, turning to him, showing him with your expression that you felt the need to look out for Angel.

“You’re a sweet soul, you know? I don’t know what it was you did to end up in this shithole, but I know why Charlie chose you out of the bunch for this redemption thing. You’ve got good in ya’.” He smiled, giving her a sympathetic smile. 

You blushed, turning away in embarrassment, “Oh… you don’t have to say all of that…” 

“I’m not lying, I can read people like a book and yours is very pleasant.” He joked, chuckling at your red face.

You two entered the restaurant, and come to find, it was not only a restaurant but a Jazz club. Husk found a table for the both of you. And right when you were about to suggest waiting for Angel to order, you got another text.

Hiii girly!! 

Val’s being an ass today :/

You guys can order without me!

Great… “Hey… I don’t think Angel’s gonna make it... He just texted me telling me we should order without him.” 

“I see… well, guess we’ll get this date started. Since he’s not joinin’ us.” He spoke.

You paused, a bit taken aback by his choice of words. “D-date?” You stuttered in surprise.

“Well, haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Three’s a hangout, minus one's a date?’ Or am I just that old?” He chuckled.

“No no! I just… I was a bit surprised, that’s all.” You chuckled softly, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Either way, I wouldn’t mind a date with ya. You’re not half bad.” Husk admitted with a soft smile.

You thanked him after which the waitress came by to take your order. Your small hangout, now updated to date status, was going great! So much so, that when the Jazz band present began to play, you debated if you should ask him to dance. He seemed like he liked Jazz, but you didn’t want to assume. So you simply continued eating and chatting with him, but your wish would be granted anyway

“You know how to dance Jazz?” He asked you after wiping his mouth with his napkin. 

“As much as the next girl, yeah.” You chuckled. You didn’t know much, but you had rhythm and that was a start.

“They used to have a jazz band at the casino I gambled at back in the 40s, back when I was young and alive and all that. Oh, I used to down bottles and dance all night. I can’t do that now, but I still know how to dance.” Husk added, reminiscing on the fast life that had landed him here. He’d had fun, that was something he was sure of.

“That sounds like it was fun…” You smiled softly.

“You wanna dance? I could teach ya’ a move or two.” He offered, extending his hand for you to take it.

You nodded, giving him your hand, letting him lead you to the dancefloor. He held you, moving you to the sound of the smooth Jazz. Spinning you gently and swaying with you. It all felt like a dream. The dim lights and the gentle strums of the acoustic bass resounding in sync with your heart. Until eventually, after enough dancing, he brought you in for a kiss. A kiss just as deep and smooth as his voice. The slight taste of liquor on his lips and the smell of the herbs on the food he’d eaten, enchanted you.

He parted the kiss and continued to sway you around. The two of you danced the night away, arriving at the hotel very very late. You had like 50 unread messages and 4 missed calls from Angel, but you didn’t care. And the second Angel saw you walk in through the main entrance with your arm around Husk’s forearm, he couldn’t even be mad! His job had been done.