Mad Dog - Husk x Reader (18+)

1. Alike in Dignity

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"Not that I don't appreciate the support, but . . . don't you think this is a bit much?"

"What? No! " Charlie hopped down from the stepstool on which she had been standing and approached the sinner. "Committing to the program is a big deal."

"Y'know, I gotta agree with her on this, toots," chimed Angel from his seat at the parlor. "It ain't no easy task puttin' up with her shenanigans—and shit, you've been doin' it sober."

Charlie's expressed flattened at his words, but she turned back to the newcomer and continued, "One week is still way longer than a lot of people have been willing to stay for." Her lips curled upward into a warm smile. "So, I just want to show how proud I am."

(Y/N) rubbed her arm sheepishly, giving her a half-smile. "Thanks, Charlie." She glanced at the large homemade sign that the princess had hung near the entrance to the foyer, noting the messy "HAPPY FIRST WEEK, (Y/N)!" scrawled across the cheap fabric. "Do you need help with anything?"

"Oh, no, I've got it," she replied. "Go on and have a seat somewhere. The BeeEats delivery driver should be here with your cake pretty soon."

"You bought me a cake?"

"Of course. I told you, one week is a big deal." She nudged the sinner out of the foyer and said, "Now go relax."

(Y/N) complied, but slowly wandered to the bar after noting that all the seats in the parlor were occupied, with Alastor sitting calmly in the armchair and Angel Dust sprawled out across the sofa, his eyes glued to his phone and his pet hellpig curled up in his lap. Entering the bar, she craned her neck to look at Husk hunched over a small contraption beside the counter. "What are you doing?"

Husk stood straight and glanced at her as she approached. "The princess got a popcorn machine to keep in the lobby," he explained. "I was just setting it up—figured it'd be nice to have around while you chug a few beers."

She hummed in understanding, keeping her eyes on the red metal machine. Husk continued his task, quietly assembling the popcorn maker until he saw (Y/N) slide onto one of the old barstools and pull a piece of paper out of her pocket.

"What's that?" he asked as he returned to his place behind the bar.

(Y/N) unfolded the paper in her hands and laid it flat on the countertop in front of her. "It's, uh, it's the questionnaire Charlie gave me when I came here."

"Still ain't finished it?" he quipped with a smirk.

She pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze. "Some of these questions are . . . a bit personal," she answered quietly. "I'm just not really sure what to put."

"Sounds about right," Husk remarked. "The princess doesn't seem to know how to read a room very well. I wouldn't expect the homework she gives out to be any different—to be honest, I'm a little surprised she's gone this long without just flat-out asking you."

She shook her head. "Yeah, I'd rather write down my answers than tell her to her face."

Husk examined the sinner near him, how she refused to make eye contact with him for more than a split-second. She didn't seem particularly sociable; she had mostly kept to herself for the first few days of her stay at the hotel. She shared very little, and she barely participated in group activities. Though he couldn't necessarily say he blamed her. Judging by the way she acted, she likely hadn't been in Hell very long. She was alone in a strange place teeming with countless strangers, any of which could be a threat to her safety. She didn't know who to trust—or if anyone could be trusted at all.