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The Taste of You

Chapter 2: Angel Dust

Notes:

Checking in on Angel, he's having a TIME

Specific warning for this chapter:

Masturbation being used as a self harming behavior

Thank you to my dear friend Destabilize for beta-ing this chapter

Chapter Text

Angel runs the entire way home, climbs buildings and sticks to rooftops, all up in the air, away from Vox's street level cameras. The new VoxTek drones are a right pain in his ass to avoid when they're hovering around, but he manages to duck and and hide from most of them. It's easier now to climb, to perch on walls and ledges, and he's thankful for it as he finally makes his way back. 

Home for now is a club, the first place he'd ever danced, hollowed out and empty, well outside of the territory claimed by the Vees. It's small but entirely his, a wide space for entertaining any guest or prey that comes by but also full of rooms that no one else can go in but him. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed having that, privacy, no voyeuristic eyes watching him at all, until he'd claimed the space for his own. 

He ducks in, locks every door behind him, strips out of his torn clothes - thanks, Val - and stumbles into his most private and secured inner room, grabs for the little jewelry box he'd left on the vanity. He's so horny he's shaking, turned on and wet behind the stupid chastity belt he'd put on for the fucking Overlords meeting. Not stupid at all it turned out, he had been so close to giving in to Valentino, begging him for release and going back. 

The bites on his thighs sting, hot and pulsing, a match to the heat in his core - he finally gets the key out of the jewelry box, fumbles and almost drops it before he unlocks the belt. The metal grip of it around his waist and hips loosens, and Angel pulls at it, pushes it down his legs and off and finally, finally, he's free. His cock is hard, his pussy wet, clit throbbing, even his ass feels like it wants stimulation.

Angel takes a moment to just touch himself, near crying with relief, firm stimulation at last, nowhere near enough but finally more than a tease. That taste of Val's venom, his poison, is enough to get him wanting, he's riled up and hungry for it, his own fingers won't nearly be enough. 

Angel scrambles on hands and knees for his box of toys, pulls it out from the corner, wrests it open to grab for the specific dildo he knows is inside. He'd left all his old things in V Tower when he'd ran from there, hadn't wanted to be weighed down or accidentally trapped by anything he'd brought, so he'd had to hunt this toy down again, special made. All the Vees had branded sex toys, Valentino just had the most, replicas of his ass and pussy, casts of his dick. Angel needs it now, he wants Val so badly, it's like a mantra in his head, Val, Val, Val, please- he's not strong enough to ignore it. 

The toy gets suctioned to the floor, Angel kneels, braces above it, and then he sinks down. He's wet enough to make it not too rough, too impatient to grab the lube or really prepare anything else. The stretch of the toy inside, the simulated bumps of Val's pierced cock, the feel of it all - Angel moans, practically cries with it, he's needed this so much. 

He really rushes it, he's too eager, takes the pain of forcing the dildo in too fast like the punishment he feels he deserves. Even knowing better there's the guilt of denying Valentino, of keeping this from him, of hurting Val. Angel rises up on his knees, sinks back down quick and rough, really going for a stinging ride. 

He deserves this, doesn't he? A painful fuck, a proxy for Valentino really giving him what he craves. Some part of him wants to apologize, wants to go back, crawl into Val's arms and accept whatever he deigns to give. 

He'd signed that original contract willingly, had been in love, had felt thrilled and happy with the attention from a man like Valentino. Even when things turned sour and bad he knew how to handle Val, had had years of practice in trying to make it work, coasting through the rough times, the highs had been unlike anything else. 

Angel hadn't agreed to more than Valentino. Vox and then Velvette, one all consuming Overlord after another, and Angel only had so much he could give. Vox had watched him from every corner, no privacy at all, and Velvette never let him hide behind an act or performance. Torn three ways, poked and prodded at and played with, what else could Angel do but try and escape, get some relief? He hadn't even thought he could manage to stay away, all he'd wanted was a break

He'd still loved Val though, that weak part of him that might always love Valentino, he'd tried for a while to deal with it, to manage the expectations and desires of three people instead of just one. It wasn't until Angel had run out and spent a few nights alone and untouched, unwatched for the first time in decades that he'd fully realized what he'd made himself live with for so long.

The relief of being alone - he'd cried, missing Val's arms, but been so thankful to just let go. He'd been able to break down without an audience, with no one taking pleasure in his pain or recording him.

It's a memory he clings to, when he thinks of going back. That cage of surveillance, that never ending sense of being watched, every second of his life on film, no privacy ever, not even allowed to hide in his head. 

Angel comes embarrassingly quickly, shaking and crying, sinks down on the dildo just to keep it inside. It hurts to just sit like this, but it's also comforting, if he closes all his eyes he can almost pretend he's just riding Val, that he's being a tease, that things are just good and easy and simple between them again. The dildo isn't a perfect replica, not really, the bumps of stimulated piercings too soft, the placement not quite right, missing ridges and texture and that internal heat that Angel knew so intimately.

This fantasy is what he gets, this sex toy stand-in, memories and his own hands and nothing else. He's never going to have Valentino again, not if he wants his freedom. Seeing Val at that Overlord meeting, feeling that pull on their contract, that need for him that Valentino still has - if Angel gives in to that, Val is never going to let him go again. 

Fuck hell's politics, really, but he'll have to be smart about this, have to keep growing his power, he likely won't get away from Val the same way again. Angel will have to keep himself locked up and away, wear the chastity belt every time, deny Val even if it hurts both of them, because the alternative is an unending afterlife in a cage. 

Angel has managed to gather a few souls of his own, accidental at first as those few had been, and then more once he knew what he was doing. Men wanted him, wanted his body, the fantasy and pleasure they thought they could take - Angel had used that in his deal making, be more than I can handle and I'll be yours - and now he had a collection of suckers, enough for an invite to an Overlord meeting.

He had felt sick at that first soul deal, he hadn't even meant to make a real binding contract - it was an offer he'd made because he was lonely and wanted a no strings fuck, nothing serious in his mind at all. Angel has since refined it, enough to make a proper binding agreement, has started recording it too, just the sex, his own way of advertising. 

Exhaust me, overwhelm me for a night and I'll be yours, but if you fail you're mine.

He doesn't keep the bodies around, he likes his hard won privacy, and Angel had done snuff films before, he knew how to end a man and make him beg for the experience. It's an ugly thing, his monstrous demon form, Val had never liked it. It feels appropriate that this is what Angel uses to keep himself safe. It's easier to eat when he's so many times larger than his preferred pretty face. 

A deal made, a night of pleasure recorded in the only room Angel allows a camera - and then the inevitable win of a soul, a body consumed, the added boost to his power. He'd had to hunt down an old camcorder for it, off-brand, nothing VoxTek made could be allowed near him - but his first tape was already being circulated on the black market. 

An enterprise all his own, no Vees involved or needed, an Angel Dust original production. He's as sick as he is thrilled by it, his own source of power - all he'd wanted was to be kept and loved by a man, by Valentino. But Val was the one to ruin that, so Angel has to deal. 

He rocks down onto the dildo, just gentle rolls of his hips, feeling the stretch and the weight of it inside. It's not really enough to sate him, no proper replacement for the real thing, mostly just a pleasurable reminder. Val had always made him feel good. Even when Angel didn't want it, maybe even especially then, Val had liked making him come, had loved how wet Angel got, the mess. 

Angel tries to think back to where exactly it all went so wrong - was it the contract? Before then? Valentino had always had such a powerful overwhelming presence and that had been thrilling - what signs had Angel missed? What didn't he see that could have prevented this?

Maybe this was always the way they were going to end. 

He's crying again, silent like the way he'd learned to do it, those lessons from being alive that had served him well once he'd died. If he was quiet about his breakdowns there was less of a chance of anyone taking notice of them. 

It feels so stupid to miss Val, to miss what they'd had together, the beginning even all the way to bitter end of it, Angel running and staying away. It feels like heartbreak, a deep wound in his soul, that eternal tie to Valentino that he'd given so willingly. 

He'd thought he was making the right choice at the time, choosing commitment, choosing love. Angel hadn't wanted power really, but he could tell Val did, and he'd wanted to help in what way he could. He'd known Val would be something, could see his ambition, even from the start. 

"I'm so fucking stupid," Angel says softly, quiet as a whisper even though there's no one to hear. 

So stupid to even think about giving in to what Valentino had promised at that meeting, even knowing what it would end up as. Stupid Angel to consider it at all. Stupid. Brainless whore. Mindless slut.

He's rising up off the dildo before he even really thinks about it, shoves a few fingers in his pussy to get them wet before he's slicking up and fingering his own ass. Hard pressure, not nearly enough lubrication, it stings and Angel quickly adds another finger, going for quick and sloppy prep. The dildo is still slick, it's going to hurt no matter what, he's intentionally not grabbing lube, this is a punishment for him. A reminder of what will happen if he goes back. 

Val's dick is always a little too much, the replica dildo just the same intimidating size, and with the half assed fingering Angel's given himself it really isn't going to be pleasant. The breach of it makes him whimper - but Val had forced him through that before, all just relax baby, you're making it worse for yourself, so Angel just goes through with it, sinks down. 

This is better than what you deserve. Even doing this to himself isn't as bad as V Tower, only Angel himself here, no Vox to watch him through the cameras and jerk off to his pain, no Velvette to mock or make fun of him during it. No Valentino at all. 

Angel keeps a firm hand on his cock, just holding it through the painful ride he's giving himself. He can orgasm like this if he tries, pain another form of pleasure he's learned to use. It's a form of control over his body, he's doing this to himself, he can end it any time he wants. No safe word needed, no partner or director to consult or control his movements, just him.

Alone. 

He digs his fingers into the bite marks Val left on his thighs and they throb with hot pain. The bites are crusted with dried blood, a stain on his fur, a mark to wear from Valentino. Val liked leaving his signs of ownership, had always said Angel looked best when he was a little fucked up and fucked out, messy. 

Angel wants more, has always been greedy, Val used to tell him that, you're sucking me dry, laughing at it. He wants Valentino, not this toy, he wants Val to overwhelm and over power him, blind him with pleasure, make his brain go quiet and empty. He wants to hurt, that special way that only Val could hurt him, how he could make Angel beg for it, feel like he deserved the pain. He presses hard into those bite marks again, deepening the bruises, forces the dildo as deep as he can get it, ruthless stimulation. 

The orgasm Angel has is shuddering and painful, a weak little dribble of fluid from his cock and pussy, no showstopper squirting like his pornos have. He's ugly crying, he can feel it, face wet and disgusting. A long crying session, a few orgasms - he feels better after this than the previous one, calmer, more centered, more focused. A good and hard endorphins reset of the brain, everything flushed clean. 

He can't go back. He has to keep collecting souls and growing power, keep hold of this private sanctuary he's made for himself. Angel can harbor a weakness for Valentino if he has to, can allow himself to miss Val, in the privacy of his own head, but nothing more. If he has to stay locked up forever in that stupid chastity belt then he'll do it. 

He'll make this work.

He has to.

 

Notes:

Chastity device for reference: https://neosteel.de/en/neosteel/unsere-produkte/

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