Overlooking Overlords

•꧁ IX. - Audio Smut ꧂•

Cw: cringey book smut mention
Nothing explicit

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Chapter Nine —Audio Smut
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•꧁ {  start  } ꧂•
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Another week had passed like nothing at all. Angel's relapse seemed to have never happen. Amongst the three of you — Husk, Angel, and yourself, nothing had happened. Angel just had a rough night and talked through it with you two at the bar. That was brilliantly crafted story you fed Charlie.

She was pleased. Angel's recovery seemed to be in full swing, according to her. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. Sure, he was trying. But everything brought him back to his addiction.

It was another tedious work day for Angel. You were called in, too. Angel didn't know whether to be thankful about it or not. He was glad to have a sort of crutch to fall back on, but that also meant putting you at risk. Usually, he'd been willing to sacrifice anything to get what he wanted: fame and money.

But you were special in some strange way. He didn't understand it.

"Angel!" You called from the lobby's entrance. A black leather bag hung from your arm. It had a few essentials. A change of clothes, makeup, perfume, and some other odd assortment of necessities.

He strolled down the stairs, a bored look on his face and phone in hand. He stopped short when he saw you. Damn. You were dolled up all pretty. No where near porn star material, but hotter than hell itself. It was a cute look. More the type that would attract lost souls rather than ones who craved sexual attention.

He wondered just what you had been hired for.

"C'mon, Angel," you grabbed his arm and hurried out the door. Valentino's heart covered limo sat waiting outside the hotel. Angel couldn't see into it, but that horrible stench of moth wasn't near by, so he had hope.

The two of you hurried into the limo and the driver took off. It appeared inside had been cleaned. Not a spec of dust lingered on the shelves in front of the seats.

After the short ride, you and Angel headed to his dressing room to get ready. He got into his costume and read over the overly cliche script he had gotten a few days ago. It was always the same stuff. And he couldn't even say most of it while getting fucked.

Then he noticed you had a script too. That's when he got scared. He hoped Valentino wasn't going to break you and sell your body to get money. There were so many great aspects about you. Though he didn't really want to admit it, your body was one of them.

But there were things he noticed about you that held a more captivating presence over that. Your mind; it was a strange thing that often flickered between times. Your eyes: a brilliant shade and always so full of life and mystery. Your voice; it always found the right things to say to comfort, confuse, or confront.

He loved all those things about you. It made you special in his mind. You had cared for him while he was sick, which happened a few times after coke. You didn't think Angel had been conscious enough to tell who it was, but you were wrong.

"What's with the script, toots?" He asked, peering over your shoulder.

"Val wants me on the tamer side of his business to start. I have no clue why," sarcasm seemed to intertwine in your tone. "I'm doing a simple book reading. It's not written the best." You grimaced.