Actions

Work Header

All Husk No Dinner

Summary:

Husk was the luckiest man in Hell with Angel Dust by his side. After seven years of marital bliss, the two of them were happier and healthier than ever.

Well, maybe not healthier. While Angel was several years clean, and glowing for his efforts, Husk had gained a not-insignificant amount of relationship weight over the years at the hands of his happy husband.

But as long as they were happy, what did it matter?

---

OR, Husk realizes he's fat, and vows to do something about it.

Notes:

One day I will write more than just fat Husk, but it is not this day!

A gift exchange for sapphicjasper! Thanks for the prompt, honeybun! Had a lot of fun with this one 🧡

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Husk was the luckiest man in Hell. He knew that. Ever since he’d died, he’d built his empire on luck, and business was booming. But Husk had never been luckier than the day he’d won Angel Dust’s soul from the porn overlord, Valentino, and every single day that followed was a stark reminder of that fact.

Gorgeous Angel, the jewel of Vee Tower. Husk had won a night with him in a poker game against the moth in the early days, when the Vees were just starting to make waves. He’d opened his door to the spider demon dripping in glitter and sinfully smooth fabrics, and from that moment on Husk had been Angel’s – heart, body, and soul.

The day Angel Dust belonged to him in turn was the day Husk tore up his soul contract. But Husk had always been Angel’s.

Seven years of bliss down the line, their love had never been stronger. Husk ruled his empire from his seat at the poker tables, with a drink in his hand, and Angel ruled beside him on his arm. With Husk’s support, the spider had developed his own brand outside the casinos, and produced a few wildly popular stage shows. The spider had come into his own now that he was free, and nothing made Husk happier than seeing Angel truly fulfilled in every aspect of his life.

Happier and healthier than ever, Angel was several years clean, and glowing for his efforts. Away from Valentino, he’d regained his confidence and stride, and he’d never looked more beautiful in Husk’s eyes.

And Husk was happier, too, although maybe not as healthy as he used to be. While his drinking was more manageable this side of marital bliss, no longer haunted as he used to be by lonely nights and the ghosts of his past, he’d gained a not-insignificant amount of relationship weight over the years at the hands of his happy husband.

Angel loved to cook. Every day since he’d moved in with Husk, the Gambling Overlord’s previously untouched kitchen had been bustling with six-armed activity as Angel stirred, kneaded, shaped, and sautéed. Husk adored everything he made, maybe a little too much. He’d sized up his suits more than once at this point. But it made Angel happy to see Husk eat up every bite of his hard work, and Husk was glad to do it.

Besides, as long as they were happy, what did it matter?

“Hey there, precious,” hummed a voice just behind Husk’s ears as four bejeweled hands slid their way over Husk’s shoulders. “You winnin’ the big bucks for me?”

“Always,” said Husk, holding two of Angel’s hands in each of his own, kissing every wrist. “You joining me tonight?”

Angel sighed, his cheek meeting Husk’s shoulder, his warm breath ruffling Husk’s whiskers. “Later. Got a meeting with the stage manager in a few. But I can get you a refill.”

One of the ringed fingers indicated Husk’s empty glass at the edge of the table.

“And maybe a snack,” he added in a low whisper at Husk’s ear.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” Husk kissed Angel’s rings again, sending him giggling as he extricated himself and carried Husk’s glass off to the bar.

Husk watched him go, eyes dropping to watch Angel’s pert ass shimmy away in his tight dress, a low purr rumbling in his chest.

Yes, Husk was a lucky, lucky bastard.

He also probably needed to empty the tank before downing another whiskey.

“I’m out this round,” he told the table, hefting himself to his feet with a low grunt. Shimmying around his chair, he headed towards the bathrooms.

He’d just squeezed past the narrow point between two table corners when he heard it. His cat ears flicked at the overly loud laughter, but he didn’t move out of earshot fast enough before…

“Jesus, would you look at that fat fuck? The Gambling Overlord really let himself go.”

Husk’s stomach plummeted. He mustered enough self awareness to keep his face blank, to keep walking, but the words hit him like a bowling ball to the gut. And worst of all, the hits kept coming.

“Well I guess we all know who tops. Angel must have to roll him to bed.”

“Poor Angel, man…how the fuck do you think he finds his dick under all that belly?”

“Bruh I dunno, but when they stand next to each other they look like the number 10.”

“Shame. He and Valentino always looked so good together, but this is just sad.”

Husk pushed his way into the restroom a little harder than he intended, the door ricocheting off of the tile wall with a loud crash. He caught himself against the wide marble sinks, hands shaking with rage. With mortification.

It wasn’t that bad. They were exaggerating. He wasn’t that out of shape. Right?

Slowly, cautiously, Husk looked up from the drain and met his own eyes, honey gold, staring back at him from a round, chubby face, made even rounder by the double chin that encompassed his neck above his bowtie. His meaty shoulders rounded out his figure, melting into fat arms that overflowed his elbows, so thick that even with his arms out, he still touched his sides. His chest was soft, two mounds of flesh thick and visible beneath his vest, and filling out his pants, his large double-belly hung so low and so thick that it eclipsed his thighs all the way to his wide, jiggling knees.

Husk swiveled to the side, grimacing at just how far his ass stuck out behind him in a high, thick shelf, perfectly shaped for sitting at a gambling table for hours on end, smoothly rounding into his wide hips.

He took a few steps back from the mirror, really taking himself in. His thighs swished against one another, bunching the fabric of his trousers, and his wings looked smaller than he’d ever seen them, as though they’d shrunk two sizes. He flapped them experimentally, bracing himself for liftoff, but only succeeded in pulling a muscle in his back.

For lack of a better idea of what the fuck he was supposed to do to fix this, Husk headed to the urinal to take care of business.

He unbuttoned his pants, tugged up to the crest of his belly. Then felt blindly for his dick beneath the hang of his thick rolls.

How long had it been since he’d seen his dick outside of his reflection? The thought made his mouth go dry. How had he made it this long without seeing  – without realizing?

He really had let himself go.



Husk returned to his table where his snack – a sliders plate – and drink were waiting. Wordlessly, he demolished them, and flagged a waitress for more.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of food and alcohol, until he had Angel pressed against him in the elevator, their lips intertwined and their hands on each other’s asses, rocketing 20 floors back up to the penthouse.

They staggered through the living room, Angel making quick work of his own clothes with one set of hands while his other set went to work on Husk’s vest buttons and suspenders.

Husk had almost forgotten his discovery until Angel pushed him back onto the bed, putting him face to face with the fat dome of his own belly as he craned his neck to see Angel just beyond.

“Let me be on top tonight,” Husk slurred, struggling to sit up.

Angel’s eyebrows raised. “Really, Husky? I don’t mind ridin’ ya–”

Husk finally managed to push himself into a seated position, belly surging almost to his knees, and he reached out a heavy arm to tug Angel down onto the bed with him.

“Lemme take care of you,” he said softly, smiling at the blush on Angel’s face. His entire world. He kissed him softly, then laid him out across the mattress, eyes raking every inch of him.

Husk leaned forward, but flinched as his belly instantly covered Angel’s entire pelvis. He forged ahead, despite it, carefully lifting one heavy leg up, then the other. Angel’s legs wrapped around his upper thighs, and his heart leapt at the spider’s contented sigh as he settled himself beneath him.

Husk leaned on one hand, reaching down around his belly to find his dick and guide it into Angel’s eager hole.

He felt a little better once they found a rhythm, Angel letting out those lovely little gasping moans beneath him as Husk bucked his hips. But the sheer amount of jiggling cascading between his hips, ass, and belly made it hard for Husk to keep steady, and soon his arms were screaming from the effort of keeping him stable.

“Why’d you stop?” asked Angel, as Husk slowed, panting.

“Just…gimme a sec,” said Husk. Angel propped himself up on his elbows, his lower hands playing with Husk’s belly.

“Been a long time since you were on top,” he hummed, smiling. “But I can see all that bod better when I ride you. Switch with me.”

Husk didn’t have the breath to argue.

He groaned as his back hit the pillows, relieved, but in his drunken dizzy fog he didn’t miss how Angel had to lift his belly out of the way to settle himself back onto his dick – how he kept holding it as he bounced.

When they were done, between the last few sleepy moments between afterglow and dreamland, with Angel snoring softly in his arms, Husk made a vow to himself. A promise for Angel.

He had to make a change.



Husk couldn’t remember the last time he’d worked out, but judging from the clothes he found at the back of his closet, it had been at least five years.

His old t-shirts and sweats looked like child’s clothes next to his body, now. He tossed them to Angel’s much more crowded side of the closet, where Angel liked to collect Husk’s old clothes to wear as pajamas.

Husk sent a text to his assistant for more clothes – he knew his size better than Husk at this point – and tugged on instead his comfy lounge sweats that he liked to wear around the house.

Angel had converted one of the extra rooms into an exercise room and dance studio when he’d first moved in. Husk had rarely been inside, deeming it "Angel’s space.” But they’d been living together for so long now that very few things remained exclusively “his” or “Angel’s” anymore.

So while Angel was out for his morning meetings, Husk let himself into the room and flipped on the lights. He immediately grimaced.

He’d forgotten Angel had set up the studio with a mirror wall. Shit.

Forcing his eyes away from his reflection, Husk crossed to the treadmill and heaved himself onto it.

The controls were simple. He turned it on and started it out on a low number, settling into a slow pace.

Almost embarrassingly slow.

He dialed it up a little more – a comfortable walking pace. There, that felt more natural.

The digital timer counted the seconds down from 30 minutes. That was fine, right? He didn’t have to jog. He could just get a healthy walk in, 30 minutes a day. That was doable.

He could do without the mirror, though, reflecting his own jiggling face back at him.

Husk fiddled with his phone, picking a video to distract himself, setting it up on the console to watch. By the time he got it set up, he was breathing heavily, already sweating.

He looked at the time – 2 minutes had passed.

Fuck…

The impact of every step sent his body jiggling, and he was increasingly aware of how sweaty he was, and the repetitive sound of his thighs swishing past each other. His feet were already starting to hurt. He needed better shoes for this. More ankle support…or arch support. One of those.

He looked at the clock again, but only 30 seconds had passed. Fucking fuck.

Husk dialed up the speed. If he did just a few minutes of a light jog he could call it a day. Sure, it would be hell within Hell, but he’d have it over with sooner.

As the belt moved faster beneath his feet, Husk forced his legs past each other. His steps hit harder and harder, the treadmill quiverring beneath his weight. Husk braced himself against the rails. His belly hurt, dropping painfully with every step, tugging at his skin. His thighs jiggled uncontrollably.

After only a few seconds he smashed the STOP button, absolutely gasping for air. He doubled over, gritting his teeth against the burn in his calves.

That was enough for one day.



It didn’t help that Angel had breakfast waiting for him when he’d pulled himself together enough to emerge.

“I thought you had meetings,” said Husk, surprised to see a fat stack of pancakes complete with bacon and eggs smiley face on top sitting in front of his seat.

Angel shrugged, washing the dishes with two hands and stacking them in the drying rack with his other two.“I cut out early. We–Husky, what happened?

Angel’s smile dropped when he saw Husk, red and sweating and limping to the table. He turned off the sink and rushed over immediately. Husk grimaced as he felt the spider’s hands all over him, exploring him for injury. He was so fucking sweaty, he didn’t want to get it all over Angel.

“Just…went for a walk,” he muttered, eyeing the pancakes. His stomach growled. “Do…do we have any fruit?”

“Sure, baby, let me put some berries on those cakes,” said Angel, kissing Husk’s cheek.

“No, I mean…just a bowl of fruit would be good. I’m not really that hungry,” Husk lied through his teeth.

It took him a moment to realize that Angel was looking at him. He hadn’t moved, frozen in place, his eyes wide, face stricken.

“What?” asked Husk, frowning.

“You’re…I’ve just never seen you turn down pancakes before, Husky,” said Angel, cupping Husk’s face with one hand. “Are you okay? Maybe you’re sick?”

Husk shrugged. “No, just…not feelin’ it today.” His stomach gurgled traitorously as he said it.

“Okay…I mean…if you’re sure…”

Angel let him go with one last look of concern and went to get a bowl. Husk gulped, and tried to ignore the pancakes before their sunny-side up smile made him feel even worse.



The berries were disappointing. Delicious, but Husk finished them in about five seconds and found himself about to cry when he reached the bottom of the bowl just as hungry as he’d begun.

The much-needed shower was disappointing. Husk hadn’t noticed what a hard time he had reaching himself anymore because he usually showered with Angel. But he’d insisted on showering alone, feeling self conscious of his body after his ill-fated exercise. Alone under the faucet, though, he missed six hands scrubbing at his back, careful around his wings. Instead he soaped himself up best he could and rinsed himself off, bumping into the shower door and nearly upsetting Angel’s shelf of soaps with his wide hips.

It felt like every hour he was realizing just how bad his body had become.

The arms of his desk chair bit into his hips as he sat, so that they bulged out of the gaps beneath them when he was fully seated. His belly kept him at arms length from the desk, so he had to lean forward to write. His belly sat between his knees, tugging on his back. No wonder Angel’s regular massages felt so much like heaven.

He was also beginning to realize how it had gotten this bad.

After rejecting Angel’s breakfast that morning, Husk’s assistant offered him snacks no fewer than five times before lunch, when he wheeled in an entire cart of Husk’s “usual” order. The assistant did a doubletake when Husk asked him to return it for a salad, uncertain. He had Husk confirm it at least three times before wheeling the cart back out. By the time he returned with a salad, Husk was already regretting his decision. But he ate the damn thing anyway, eyes on the heart-shaped photo on the edge of his desk. His favorite photo of Angel, windswept and laughing.

This was all for him. Angel deserved a man worthy of him. And Husk would do anything to be that man.

Which was part of the problem.

When Husk returned to the penthouse that evening, he was met with a veritable feast of takeout laid across the dining table. And behind it all, Angel, laying out plates.

“Heya, stud.” He winked, crossing the room in a few strides of his long long legs, stilletos clicking against the floor. He kissed Husk softly, one hand circling his thick waist while another settled atop his ass. “You’re just in time for dinner. I got us a few options this time from that new place we’ve been wanting to try.”

Husk stared at the table. A few options. There were nearly ten containers.

His stomach yawned, empty and wanting. Husk wanted to sit in his comfortable chair while Angel fed him every last bit of food on that table. But he couldn’t give in. He had to stay strong.

“I’m real tired, hon,” he said, kissing the corner of Angel’s jaw apologetically. “Think I might just go up to bed.”

Angel’s eyebrows knit together, a worried wrinkle forming between them as he looked at Husk with wide, sad eyes. “You…you don’t even want just a taste while it’s hot? I could bring a plate up to ya.”

Husk shook his head, his heart breaking at Angel’s face. “Thank you for doin’ all this, baby, but I’m just…”

“Not hungry. Yeah.” Angel sighed, but rubbed the spot between Husk’s wings that always made him purr. “S’okay.”

Husk lay awake in bed for hours, stomach aching so badly that he couldn’t sleep. It was how he was still awake when Angel slipped into bed a long time later, facing away from him. Husk wanted to reach out, but it was better if Angel thought he was already asleep. He didn’t want to disappoint him twice in one night.



By the fifth day of this, Husk wondered if the effort of dieting might actually kill him.

He was tired all the time, exhausted from hauling his body around, and miserable from hunger. He’d tried the treadmill again once or twice, but settled instead for setting a timer on his phone that made him get up every twenty minutes and haul his ass in lazy circles around his office.

The worst of it though was dodging Angel’s attempts to feed him. He set his alarm early and headed out before Angel left the bed these days to avoid another breakfast conundrum like the first day, and he’d agreed to sit down for dinner, but asked his assistant to call him every night at the same time so that he’d have an excuse to go back down to the office before he could eat too much. Then he’d wait for Angel to go to bed before heading back upstairs, where he’d stare sadly into the fridge at the packed up leftovers until he found the willpower to go to bed.

He missed his husband, though. It broke his heart not to see him every day, and a few times when Angel looked particularly sad he thought about throwing the entire plan out the window and giving in. But then he’d catch sight of himself in the mirror, and remember what that patron had said about him.

Angel had never had to deal with this shit from Valentino. The moth was a disgusting person, but he’d always looked…well, perfect. Better than Husk ever had.

Husk had to do better. It was what Angel deserved.

After another day of disappointingly small meals, Husk lugged himself to the elevator, leaning heavily against the wall as it took him back to the penthouse. It was late. With any luck Angel would be asleep by now.

Husk hadn’t been feeling like such a lucky man lately, though.

The door opened and Husk’s jaw dropped.

The table was completely smothered in food. Homecooked food. Pasta, pastina, antipasto, the most beautiful focaccia Husk had ever seen in his life, lasagna, an entire pizza, and chicken parm, the list went on and on…

Angel had gone all out. And judging from the half-melted candles, he’d been waiting quite a while to show off his hard work.

Husk looked around, spotting the spider curled up on the couch, asleep. He was in his sparkling gold dress – Husk’s favorite. A wineglass sat empty on the table beside him.

Husk let out a broken sigh, running a hand through his hair as his eyes swiveled back to the food. It was all his favorite. Angel’s specialties were always his favorite. He must have been cooking all day.

Husk didn’t know how he was going to get out of this one.

He waddled over to the couch and rested a paw on Angel’s shoulder, shaking him softly.

“Angel…baby…”

“Nnghnn?” Angel’s eyelids fluttered. He looked around, seeing Husk. “Time is it?”

“It’s late,” said Husk. “You made all this?”

Angel sat up with a sleepy moan, nodding. “Did you try it?”

Husk’s heart sank a little. “No, baby, I just got back from work.”

Angel sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Shoulda called you to ask…it’s probably cold, now.”

“Yeah…” Husk looked away as Angel’s eyes searched him. He knew what he was looking for. The old Husk would have eaten anything Angel made for him, no matter the time, place, or temperature. But he wasn’t the old Husk anymore. “Let me help you put it away.”

The sound of Angel’s hands slapping the couch cushions made him jump, and a split-second later eight feet of glorious, glittering, furious Angel towered over him, seething.

“Don’t bother. I’ll just throw it all away.”

What? No! Angel!” Husk hurried after him, flinching as Angel picked up the waiting plates and dumped them in the sink so hard they shattered.

“Why not, Husk? There’s no room in the fridge, anyway,” cried Angel, heading back to the table. But instead of picking up another dish he braced himself against the edge, voice racking in a sob that broke Husk’s heart cleanly in two. “What’s the fucking point anymore? It’s all just fucking waste...”

“Angel…baby–”

Angel’s head shot up at that, his burning, rageful eyes piercing Husk’s. “No, don’t baby me, Husk. It’s over.”

Husk’s entire body went numb. “Over?

“I’m done pretending. I wanna hear you say it.” Angel rounded the table, squaring up to Husk, poking him sharply in his round upper arm. “If you don’t love me anymore I want to hear you fucking say it to my face.”

“You think I don’t love you anymore?” Husk balked.

“You’ve been avoiding me all week, Husk, I ain’t a fuckin’ idiot. I know the signs.” Angel curled in on himself, arms crossed just below his fluff, wincing in anticipation. “So say it. Get it over with. Just…tell me what I did to make you fall outta love with me.”

“Angel…” Husk reached for Angel’s second pair of arms, prying them away from him, holding each hand firmly in his own. “I will never, ever stop loving you. Ever.”

Angel didn’t look at him. Husk stepped closer, looking up into Angel’s downcast face, forcing himself into his view.

“I love everything about you, and everything you do for me. Sometimes I can’t believe how much I love you – it’s overwhelming. I’m grateful every day I wake up beside you and wonder how I got so fucking lucky. And that ain’t never gonna change.”

Angel sniffled, still not meeting Husk’s eyes, but he stepped a little closer, leaning into him. His fingers intertwined with Husk’s, holding him tightly as though fearful that he would let go.

Husk sighed miserably. “I…I’ve been avoiding you ‘cause I got it in my head that I might not be enough for you. That you deserve someone more…diligent.”

Angel finally looked at him, his anger all but dissipated, confusion in its place. “Whaddaya mean ‘more diligent’? You’re plenty diligent.”

“I just…I’m not as fit as I used to be.” Husk shifted on his feet, looking down at himself. “I know I’ve let myself go since we got married, but I didn’t think it was this bad, and when I realized how far gone I was I just…I’ve been tryna get back on track. But it’s hard.” Fuck, his voice was breaking. “It’s hard as shit, and I hate it, but I promise, I’ll do better. I wanna be a man you can be proud to stand next to, not some fat sack of shit who drags you down.”

“Husk

“I’m just so sorry I let it get this bad–”

Husk…look at me.”

Husk looked up at Angel, feeling his eyes gloss over with tears, his lip trembling.

Angel’s hands were at his cheeks in seconds, his lips at his lips, kissing him long and hard. When he broke away, Angel held his gaze.

“Baby, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I ain’t ashamed of you.”

“It’s unbecomin’ of an overlord,” said Husk, his voice wobbly from trying to hold back his tears.

Angel clicked his tongue loudly. “Oh, big fucking deal, that’s what we all need, right? Another fuckin’ overlord. I know thats not what I need. I need my husband who loves me.”

Husk tried to speak, but only succeeded in whining softly. Angel kept his upper hands on his face, his lower hands in his hands, and broke out his third pair of arms to wrap around him and pull him in close.

“Husky I love you. You’re perfect the way you are, you don’t have to go changin’ yourself because you think it’s what I want. I don’t want that. Whatever made you think I did?

Husk breathed past a sob, attempting to catch his breath through the wave of emotion surging over him. “Some asshole in the casino…said you looked better with…with Val–”

Angel’s eyes hardened to chips of ice in seconds.

“He said what?

“Said standin’ side by side we look like the number 10,” Husk sobbed.

Angel tugged Husk back to the couch, sitting him down and straddling him so they were the same height. He pulled him into a tight six-armed hug, and for the first time that week Husk just let it all go. He cried into Angel’s shoulder all the tears of misery he’d tried to suck up being strong so long. He was sad for Angel, sad for himself, and so, so fucking hungry.

Finally when he’d recovered a bit, and Angel had gotten him a glass of water, Angel took his face in his hands.

“Let me make one thing very clear right now, love of my afterlife,” he said sharply. “I am more than happy to cook healthier and help you lose some weight if that is what you want. However, that offer does not reflect a single thing about how I feel about your body. I happen to love your bigger bod, and if I haven’t made that clear from seven years of fucking your brains out, I am more than happy to try even fucking harder to make it clear.”

He caressed the sides of Husk’s huge belly, gripping his love handles possessively.

“I love knowin’ my cooking has been makin’ you bigger all this time. That the food I make with all the love in my heart stays with you all the time. I thought havin’ a belly was a reminder of how much I love you, and that you’d see that when you look in the mirror. But I guess I could’ve communicated that better…”

Husk blinked blearily, about to cry all over again. “I never thought of it like that. That’s real nice.”

Angel bopped his forehead with his own. “Lemme put it this way. Would you stop lovin’ me if I gained weight from all your cooking?”

Husk snorted. “I don’t cook.”

“You could learn,” said Angel, raising an eyebrow. “I know I’d like it if my gorgeous husband cooked for me sometimes. But that ain’t the point I’m tryin’ to emphasize, here.”

Husk chuckled, bringing his huge hands up to Angel’s waist, smoothing down the sparkles of his dress. “No, Angel, I’d never stop lovin’ you. No matter your size.”

“Fuckin’ right.” Angel sighed, leaning down and kissing the top of Husk’s head, right between his ears. “Now, do you want me to put away the food and make you a salad or somethin’ instead?”

Husk looked past Angel at the table full of all of his favorite things. Cold or not, it looked like heaven on a plate.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he said, and Angel smiled widely.

“You just stay here, then, Husky. Let me heat it up again.”

“Fuck that, just bring it over,” said Husk, settling against the cushions with a sigh and propping his sore feet up on the ottoman. “I’m so hungry I’m about to eat this damn couch if I have to wait any longer.”

Angel’s smile, if possible, widened even further.



Husk adjusted himself in his usual chair. He was about to need a new usual chair if his hips grew any wider, which…yeah, they really fucking would.

He’d eaten nearly everything Angel had cooked for him in one sitting the other night, fully relieved to be feeling stuffed again. He purred through Angel’s belly rubs afterward, and felt no qualms about letting Angel ride him after. He dozed off nearly the minute they finished, but not before tugging the spider to his chest and wrapping him in his arms, muttering praises of love until he passed the fuck out.

The next day he’d eaten all of the leftovers from the takeout Angel had ordered that week. And even more for lunch, and dinner. He’d commanded his assistant to fuck off when he called him in the evening, and had him reinstate his normal lunch specials when he returned to work two days later.

Now, back in his throne as the Gambling Overlord, Husk noticed the changes to his body with a comfortable distance, remembering the way Angel had covered his massive belly in kisses, and clutched at his ass like a starving man. So what if he had to get a new chair? And new clothes? They were happy. Really happy.

“Holy shit, is that the Gambling Overlord? He looks more and more like Mammon every day.”

“You think he eats the souls he wins?”

“Surprised he hasn’t crushed Angel Dust yet under all that–”

BANG

Husk looked around in time to see the demon hit the floor, blood splattered everywhere from a bullet wound in the center of his forehead.

By the bar stood Angel, draped in shocking pink strappy silk and holding a tommy gun at hip level, still smoking from the barrel.

“Anyone else got something they wanna fuckin’ say?” he asked the table at large. Ten pairs of wide, horrified eyes shook their heads no. Angel shouldered the gun, satisfied. “Good. Carry on.”

Husk chuckled, holding out an arm as the spider sauntered his way, stowing his gun back in his liminal space. He slid onto Husk’s knee, one arm around his shoulders, fingers playing with the soft tip of Husk’s ear. Husk tugged him in with a hand around his waist, trailing his fingers up the slit at his thigh.

“That might’ve been overkill, but I appreciate you defending my honor,” Husk hummed low, just for Angel to hear.

The spider caressed his face, kissing him softly.

“No one talks about my man like that and lives,” he said decisively.

“How did I get so damn lucky?” Husk wondered aloud, and Angel kissed him again, long and slow and deep.

He didn’t think he’d ever find out.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Comments appreciated!