81st Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill
Husk/Angel – Part 2/2 – gentle dom/sub; dom!Husk; sub!Angel; learning to let go/get into subspace – Angel actually experiencing a first? That's fun :o
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Husk is eating him out. Again. And somehow it is even better than last time.
This time, Angel is on his back – something he is very familiar with – and doesn’t have to do anything other than let Husk play with his body. Something that is also not uncommon. But the way he does it… the way he just keeps licking him, slow and self-indulgent and humming while he is doing it like Angel is such a fucking treat-
It is driving him insane.
He keeps licking at him until he’s somehow had his fill and then he lifts up and just stares at Angel until Angel looks back down. He feels like his eyes are huge and wild in his skull. Like he must look absolutely insane. His upper hands are pressed against his mouth, trying to muffle any sounds that keep wanting to spill out of him.
Husk is smiling crookedly. The fur on his chin is soaked and glittering with pearlescent fluid. Angel stares at it, his hands slowly falling away without him noticing. His mouth his hanging open and his tongue is rolling out onto his own chin.
Maybe Husk sees it as the invitation that it is – or he just knows what Angel needs without having to be told. But he crawls up Angel’s body and plunges him in darkness as his wings blot out the light.
A moment later, they are kissing. Slow and indulgent. Angel’s arms curl around the tomcat, holding on to him like a vice. His tongue wants to do all kinds of acrobatics, but Husk gentles him down until it’s just the painfully slow drag of them rubbing against each other.
Angel’s whole body throbs. His knees are around Husk’s hips, unwittingly hindering himself from rubbing his thighs together.
He’s getting absolutely useless. He can feel his last brain cells and how they slowly stop working just because Husk is taking everything at a glacially slow pace.
Husk is kneeling above him, his paws on Angel’s ribcage between his first and second set of arms, and slowly sliding up. Over his armpits and the underside of Angel’s upper arms. The sensation is so eerily intimate, it makes Angel gasp into the kiss, head falling back while his tongue is still out, obediently offering it up to Husk.
They stare at each other as Husk gently pushes his upper arms up to above his head.
“Are you feeling good?” Husk asks him in that low rumble.
Angel nods slowly, his head swimming – but this time it seems to not be enough for Husk. “Use your words,” he orders, his voice so gentle that it takes all the sting that the command might have carried.
Angel feels… odd. Like the bed is slowly opening up beneath him and starting to swallow him up. He is feeling both lighter and heavier than he ever has. A voice answers is a hushed little “Like it” and it takes him a while to realize that it’s been his own.
“Good boy,” Husk’s voice says in the slowly encroaching darkness.
Angel’s eyes are open and he is seeing, but he is not registering anything. He is both inside his body and outside. Feeling Husk carding claws through his chest fluff and lightly tugging on it, and also thinking that that is something that is happening to someone else.
Everything is warm and prickly and good. He is calm. He’s calmer than he’s ever been. As a demon. A human. A good-for-nothing whore.
“That’s it… you’re being so good for me,” Husk’s voice whispers. His claws are carding through the fur on Angel’s belly, following the pink line down to his abdomen. “You’re perfect like this. Looking like a million bucks.”
Does he? Does he really? Angel is staring up at the ceiling, his upper arms obediently still above his head without any need to hold him down. Husk is… somewhere. Everywhere. He’s started purring and it is almost too much for Angel to handle. It thrums through his body and vibrates behind his eyeballs until he has to close them. He’s drooling and his whole body is throbbing with the need to come.
“Do you know what good boys get?” Husk’s voice answers. It’s so deep and silky and perfect. It wraps Angel up like a damn blanket. He can’t wrap his head around how that is even possible. He opens his mouth a bit wider but all that comes out is a pathetic little whimper.
He feels so shy all of a sudden; all the bluster has been stripped away in just a few short moments, leaving him open and raw like a nerve.
Husk doesn’t say any more, though. His movements have stopped as well, hands framing Angel’s hips and thumbs gently stretching his posterior hole open without touching his rim. He is waiting for an answer.
Angel somehow unclenches one of his lower arms from the bedding and puts his hand up against his mouth. He doesn’t know… he doesn’t… “I don’t know,” he whispers.
“Hmmmn… good boys get all they’ve been gagging for for days,” Husk explains patiently. His breath is tickling Angel’s little spider cock. “They get the orgasm they’ve been fiending for. They get taken care of, like they’ve been desperate for the whole time.”
That rough tongue is back against Angel’s dick, curling around it, bathing it in warm saliva before it is enveloped by the warmth of Husk’s mouth.
He’s so careful with his sharp teeth… he’s so slow and indulgent, sucking the pre-cum out of Angel and opening his mouth to let the copious amount of fluid run down to his posterior hole.
Angel feels like he is dying again… but it feels good. Two claw like fingers slide into his hole while he is getting sucked off, and everything… everything is just so good. So warm and tight and wet and good.
He arches his back, sucking on his own fingers for comfort, limbs moving restlessly… and the most heartfelt little exclamation he’s spoken in… decades, dripping from his mouth: “Oh, daddy- please-”
Husk’s voice is back; all crooning and deep. Calling him a good boy. To let daddy take care of him. That he’ll get everything he ever wanted if he just stays nice and real like he is now.
If he just lets Husk flay him open and look at everything he has to offer.
Angel muscles seize tight as he comes so hard that his ears are filled with static. He is vaguely aware of the warm pulsating feeling of cum shooting out of him and splattering against his belly before Husk can push his muzzle over it and drink it all up-
but it takes a backseat to the feeling of weightlessness. To the delicious pain of his aching, trembling muscles. To the curious emptiness of his head that feels so much more profound than the one he gets from his drugs.
He doesn’t immediately come down from the curious high he’s on, but that’s alright. Husk is there to take care of him. Making him feel nice and cozy and… safe.
He says something about ‘subspace’ later, but that doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something Angel could achieve.
But fuck this feeling had been everything.
And… once again he got to get off with Husk without getting that goddamn cock inside him.
It’s going to drive him insane.