The Hazbin Hotel Project

Whiskey, Sex, and Writer's Block [Husk x Fem!Reader]

"I'd like to have a drink, Husk."

A certain winged cat demon almost dropped the glass he had been polishing. It was a rare night for the hotel bar; no fights, no grumbling drunkards, not even a breath of flirtation from Angel Dust. The only patron who had been here for the last couple of hours was [First Name] [Surname], an author and seemingly the single sinner in the Happy Hotel who didn't drink a single drop of alcohol. Yet here she was, hunched over a laptop with an exhausted expression and asking for a beverage that wasn't her usual Shirley Temple. The former magician didn't think she had it in her but it looked like today must have been pretty shitty to push her to the edge like this.

Husk finished cleaning the glasses and, without looking at her, asked, "Alright. What do you want?" His ears twitched at the sounds of fingers tapping rapidly against the keyboard. [First Name] must not be looking her laptop either as she spoke. Or at least that's what he assumed. There weren't any eyes on the back of his fucking head.

"A shot of whiskey with cola, please." Her request was a weak drink, since the alcohol would be diluted by the ten ounces of cola. Plus it gave drinkers that kick without the overwhelming side effect of the whiskey. It's still pretty popular down here in Hell as it had been when he was alive. "Comin' right up." Husk said, pulling an opaque bottle from the shelf, a shot glass, a can of Coke-Cola, and a rose-colored glass. Once the ice had been added, the barkeep proceed with adding the whiskey and then the soda.

Once it was finished, Husk placed the glass right by [First Name]. "Here ya go." The one-eyed owl demon looked up from her workspace and then at the drink. "Thank you."

Husk simply nodded and went right back to work. The minutes on the clock behind him ticked by slowly, and [First Name] was still here. The grumpy barkeep was beginning to think she was planning on living here but he kept quiet and didn't bother asking. Plus she hasn't guzzled down her drink like some of the idiots here; she was savoring it, and in a weird way expressed appreciation for his 'labor'.

Still...he'd like to have some conversation with the demon. It wasn't every day he got the chance to talk to a dame who seemed too good to be rotting in this shithole. Clearing his throat, Husk cautiously addressed [First Name]. He earned a low hum of acknowledge from her.

"It's rare for ya to be working this much, tonight. That editor of yours being demanding or something?"

"Not really," [First Name] shrugged, correcting some errors on her laptop, "There just hasn't been much else to do lately. I might as well use my work to fill in the gap." She took another sip of her drink. Once it was placed back on the polished table, the demon raised her arms up in the air, stretching. "My editor wants me to try writing in the erotica genre for a change of pace instead of another autobiography on a serial killer. And after all the work I put in for a proposal on writing about H.H. Holmes!" [First Name] pouted. Husk raised an eyebrow.

"A what?"

"A book proposal. That's when you have an idea and believe it'll be a marketable product. You can say it's like...a business contract or even a plan for the editor to make an investment." The owl demon explained.

"So you don't just submit some paper to the editor and it's published?" Husk asked. [First Name] shook her head. "Not at all. My editor may help me with feedback and proofreading, but in the end he's the one who decides if the book is 'sold' or an automatic rejection and he wants something else by the beginning of next week," The demon ran a hand through her [Hair Color] tresses. "Problem is, I don't see how I can write any erotica when I've never had sex before. Just typing up random sex scenes and other kinky shit expecting the readers to enjoy it doesn't mean the story itself will make a positive impact on them."