tfln overflow

[harderdaddy]

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[harderdaddy]

[There's a soft hum as that kiss slows things down a little, but Angel follows suit. His main eyes close, but the smaller ones catch a blurry look of their locked lips, fingertips tracing delicately over the spines at the back of Blitzø's head.]

Up or off? [He manages to pant, half lifting his hips to help with whichever way Blitzø wants to deal with getting the skirt out of the way.]

[shitzo]

[ blitzø licks into angel's mouth like he might be able to catch and taste that low, hummed note if he just tries hard enough, tongue curling over angel's with an uneven sigh. like his tail, his spines can be somewhat sensitive too, and angel's gentle, teasing fingers at the back of his head make the ones on his back raise and bristle a little.

he breaks away to speak, but stays close enough that angel's face is still blurred. ]

You wearin' anything underneath? [ he counters, laughing a little bit breathlessly to himself, but he doesn't really wait for an answer either way. his hands dip, claws sliding under the hem of angel's tight little skirt and making quick work of pushing it up when he raises his hips, material bunching over his wrists as he skims his hands along angel's thighs. ]

[harderdaddy]

[Imps' tongues feel distinctly different, or maybe Angel's just familiar with far too many different tongues. Either way, the fork does something for him much the same way Val's absurdly long one does.]

Uh uh. [Angel shakes his head, laughing as Blitzø can see that well enough for himself by now, dick sliding free like his third set of arms now that he doesn't have to worry about running the line of his skirt.]

[absolutest]

[Lute's lips curl downwards as she considers this. It seems such an obvious fact to her, common knowledge, but most residents of Heaven aren't like her. They never visit Hell, they have no reason to know what anyone down there is doing. Asking about friends or relatives among the damned isn't exactly encouraged.

But she's come this far. She's done this much for him.]

She might know already.

[There's always the possibility.]

If she doesn't, I won't mention it. To avoid upsetting her. What do I say if she asks?

[harderdaddy]

[He nods, and it's probably the first time Angel's let himself look...ashamed about the topic of his work.]

If she don' know and she asks...just say I'm an actor like I always wanted.

[He thinks she'd like believing that.]

[shitzo]

Shit. That's hot.

[ and less work for him, honestly, which is always a plus, especially when on limited time. blitzø laughs a little to himself, the sound a bit rough, and grins impishly, as is in his nature to do. he finishes pushing up angel's skirt, just high enough to be mostly out of the way, and lets his claws drag from angel's hips down over his thighs, thumbs skimming along the inside as his hands drift back up.

he's going to have to get a new couch. normally, the thought might be enough to stop him, but honestly, it's probably about time they throw this one out and find a (cheap) replacement anyway, and blitzø's too invested in making angel come as quickly as possible to think about anything outside of that right now. he kisses him again, tongue seeking and tangling with angel's, and pets one of his hands down angel's stomach until the inside of his wrist bumps the tip of angel's dick. from there, he lets his fingers tease too, and then closes them in a loose fist around him, dragging down slowly. ]

[harderdaddy]

I'd say I did it just for you, but- heh- Next time. Something so pretty you won't even wanna take it offa me.

[He deserves that, and not just for today. He's quieted (mostly) with that talented tongue, and easily distracted by the kiss. Their bet almost slips his mind all together, though not the limited timeline, so he doesn't hold himself back from bucking up into that teasing touch, his groan swallowed up into their locked mouths.

The hands that aren't busy fondling those spines fumble to try and work Bliztø's pants open, another muffled moan sounding curiously close to his film persona. Maybe he's a little concerned about winning.]

[papichulo]

[ would it make things any better? probably not. would it mean none of them would ever have a chance to come back and fuck with him or his things again? certainly. but valentino knows there's no point in arguing this even though he wants to. what's done is done, and no amount of angelic bullets will reverse the damage.

but it would have felt good. it'd felt fucking great ripping out one of their throats with his bare hands, even better sinking a fancy little bullet into two skulls. violence in the face of blatant disrespect always manages to settle something feral within him.

angel's right, though. as pissed as valentino is, those assholes don't really deserve any more of his time or his energy. they're not worth wasting the bullets he already has very few of left, and if he nailed the fucker who thought it was a good idea to carve a label into angel's flesh because he saw something like it in a movie once, good. he deserves to rot somewhere deeper and darker than hell.

his hand still circled around angel's ankle, valentino gives it another light squeeze, then runs his fingers up the back of angel's leg as he stands back up to his full height. he offers the same hand to him to help him down, even though he's probably more than capable of doing it himself. ]

Come. Call down to the kitchen and have them bring something up.

[harderdaddy]

[Capable or not, Angel enjoys being doted on by Val, babied a little when the occasion calls for it. He accepts the hand down with a grateful smile.]

Yes, Val. [Honestly, he's still not all that hungry, but if it will make Val happy he can order something. And he'll order something extra for Val to pick at when that anger wears off enough for the Overlord to notice his hunger.]

for @ papichulo

[harderdaddy]

cont'd from here

Angel fumes the whole car ride over, the whole elevator ride up- all with no release. No, he saves it up as he stalks into the penthouse in search of Val. A good more than half of that anger really ought to be directed at himself. He knows he's playing right into Val's hand. Again. And yet here he is.

Oh look, that hideous vase Val liked for some reason. Angel pushes the thing over with a sense of satisfaction, starting towards the stairs.

"You wanted this so bad, you couldn't even be waiting for me?!"

[papichulo]

The sound of something crashing and shattering is enough to pull Valentino from... wherever the fuck he is - lounging somewhere upstairs, probably, scrolling through voxtagram while he waits for Angel to make an appearance as predicted. Like he didn't just instigate an argument purely for his own entertainment and gratification.

He appears as a silhouette at first, dark and looming by the railing near the top of the stairs, glowing red eyes peering down toward the main stairs. As is usually the case, there's a thin, wispy haze of pink smoke around him, trailing back to wherever he just came from. He braces two of his hands on the railing and leans over it a lit, like - well, like an Overloard looking over his kingdom. Or in this case, the bottom floor.

Valentino ignores Angel's verbal outburst entirely, snapping back at him. "What the fuck did you just break?"

[harderdaddy]

There he is. Angel narrows his eyes. Val's the one who wound him up like this. He's going to have to deal with the consequences.

"What, you're the only one who gets to break things?"

He'd break more, but he's all ready on the stair and there's not a lot of damage he can do from there. And he wants to get out from under that shadow (mostly) as soon as he can.

"You wanted to fight, lets fight."

stares at all my typos with dead eyes.

[papichulo]

Pretty immediately, Valentino's gaze falls on all the broken pieces of the vase scattered across the tile down below, his teeth clenching tight and his hands twisting around the railing. Truthfully - it's definitely an easily replaceable item, but if Angel thinks he can just waltz into the penthouse like he owns it and start trashing Valentino's things? Well, he's wrong.

Val's eyes narrow and follow Angel, and as he climbs closer to the top of the stairs, Valentino lets go of the railing and takes a few long, stalking strides to meet him right off the last step. Quickly, sharply, he darts his primary hands out toward him and grabs him by the front of his jacket, dragging him closer with little effort and hauling him over to the side so he can back him up into the railing.

He towers over him, pressed uncomfortably close. "That vase cost me more than you make in a fucking week, you brat."

It's maybe a little bit of an exaggeration. Likely, Valentino doesn't even remember how much he spent, because it was inconsequential at the time. He jostles Angel a little, just... for fun, and presses himself even closer. Angel's been here throwing a tantrum for less than a minute and Valentino's already half-hard over it. "The next one's coming out of your fucking paycheck."

I never notice <3

[harderdaddy]

It's exactly what Angel's been craving, and fuck- he hates what that says about him. He loves his friends. Is starting to like the person he can be with them. So why can't he let this side of himself go.

There's a challenging look in Angel's eye, not backing down or cowering like he does when it's a more one sided fight, even though Val clearly has the advantage. "Worth it," he hisses, glancing back over that railing and hating how the fear turns him on.

He tears at Val's shirt, grans the collar to try and forcibly tug the Overlord down into a biting kiss.

[papichulo]

Angel standing his ground, the blatant defiance, the fucking backtalk - all of it makes Valentino's blood run hot, a familiar mix of anger and arousal rushing through him as Angel hisses at him like his attitude has never earned him a sharp backhand before. Valentino's grip tightens in the front of his jacket, claws just starting to push through the material, his other hands curling around the railing on either side of him and pinning him into what very little space is left between them.

It probably wouldn't kill him, if Angel took a tumble over the edge and fell to the bottom floor. For a split second, Valentino imagines it in slow motion. He picture's Angel's eyes, mismatched and wide, hands outstretched and reaching toward the only thing that could maybe save him - the only thing that could ever save him - and finding nothing but open air. He doesn't fantasize about killing Angel - at least, not right now, he isn't - but about Angel needing him. Always.

Valentino's already leaning toward him a little bit, slowly and subtly trying to coax him into leaning backward, when Angel claws at him and grabs a hold of his shirt collar. He comes down easily, though he wasn't likely to resist anyway, considering this is exactly what he'd been looking for when he'd decided to start a fight for fun, and when his mouth meets Angel's it's with enough force and enthusiasm that Val's teeth click against his for a second before he immediately tries pushing his tongue past them.

His hands on the railing release and blindly find and settle on Angel's body, broad palms fitting around his ribcage and dragging down to his hips so he can pull their bodies flush, his erection pressing against Angel's lower stomach.

[harderdaddy]

There's something to be said for the difference between a real fight, and Val just knocking him around to remind him of his place. It feels like more and more Val's just looking for the former from him. And Angel's almost forgotten how good it feels to bite back. It'll all probably end the same, but maybe Angel won't come out of it hating himself quite so much. Or maybe just for different reasons.

Val crowds him back, and the railing fucking digs into his back, but that very present danger doesn't register. His lips part, fighting for control of the kiss, and trying to drink down that poison greedily. There's a low groan in his throat at the feel of that hardness, and he abruptly tries to push Val off. It's not nearly his full strength, clearly trying to up the tension without actually 'escaping'.

"Heh- hh- you're so fuckin' easy~"

[papichulo]

Valentino is not one to be easily moved by anyone, but he's invested enough in upping the animosity that he allows Angel to shove him around a little. He doesn't go far, because there isn't enough force under Angel's palms to move him very significantly - and he knows Angel's strength, so he imagines that's intentional - but he shifts back enough that there's room to breathe, enough that he's forced to loosen his hold on the front of Angel's jacket, the hands framing his hips lifting and leaving too, claws dragging lightly as they go.

Standing there for a second or two, Val just stares at Angel, his eyes narrowed and his gaze almost piercing. And then - he starts to laugh, but it's a dark sound, lacking joy and mirth.

"I'm easy?" he shoots back, and suddenly, he stalks forward again, collapsing the space between them again and backing Angel right back into that railing behind him. One of his primary hands moves quick, long fingers snapping tight around Angel's throat, not enough to choke but enough to make his breathing thin as he leans in close, slotting a thigh between Angel's and pressing up.

"Fuck you," he mocks, echoing Angel's earlier text in a semi-childish tone. "Send the car," he adds, laughing again, though there's more amusement in this one, dark satisfaction. The way he flicks his tongue out is almost snake-like, teasing over Angel's mouth. "I didn't even have to try, and you came running like a bitch. If you want to talk about easy, baby..."

[harderdaddy]

There's a grimace, and Angel's fucking pinned against the railing again, very nearly making Val's fantasy come true all on his own as he tries to escape that hold the only way left to him. His back bows as he tries to arch away, his breath shuddering weakly.

It's easy to feel Angel's just as fucking hard as Val, whatever he might pretend, and his cheeks burn with bitter shame. Sharp teeth grit together with a huff, trying to wrench Val's hands away from his throat- another show of resistance more than a real effort to get away, egging the Overlord on like he wants him to handle Angel rough.

"Allllll those souls and it's still me ya need ta set ya right, Val," he mocks right back.

[papichulo]

"Oh, don't fucking flatter yourself," Valentino shoots back, his grip around Angel's neck tightening just a little bit more, fingertips pressing hard against the sides of his throat, oddly conscious of not crushing Angel's windpipe in a way he likely wouldn't be if he was actually, genuinely angry. They are, after all, just playing - to Valentino, at least.

He shoves his thigh higher, forces Angel to grind against him, his own erection pressing hard into his hip.

"You think you're the only one that got that text?" He gives Angel's throat one more quick squeeze, and then releases him to let him breathe, petting his long fingers down the front of his neck. His secondary hands find Angel's hips, holding him close and fast, pressure under his palms encouraging him to use his leg to seek his own pleasure while he laughs. "Oh, no, baby. You were just the first one who bit."

Whether that's true or not - that he sent the same text to all of his whores, that Angel was the first one to take the bait - is hard to say. Valentino lies just as often as he tells the truth, but he seems to be finding entertainment in attempting to step on Angel's confidence either way. It's all a game to him.

[harderdaddy]

Just playing.

There's a whimper as that grip tightens, but it's true. They must be playing, or Angel wouldn't have the air to manage that much. Did Angel always get off to this sort of play, or is it just an adaptative things? Either way, there's shame weighing down as Angel plays right along, grinding against Val's leg, while a lower hand starts to fondle that hardness at his hip.

His eyes narrow, hating the heat he can feel colouring his face beneath his fur. "...you have cars waitin' for all of 'em too?" he counters, "Vox not in the mood for your shit tonight?"

[shitzo]

[ next time. it's not an... unreasonable assumption. though he never would have guessed it a possibility in the first place, blitzø's been spending a decent amount of time with angel dust lately. sometimes they fuck, sometimes angel just needs to escape for an hour or two, either physically or metaphorically, but blitzø can't say there's ever been a time so far that he's minded angel's company. he's surprisingly easy to get along with, and the sex is amazing, if or when it happens.

next time sounds great, actually. blitzø grins a little against angel's mouth, chuckling quietly under his breath. he tries to imagine what angel could possibly wear for him that would trip him up so badly that he would hesitate to peel him out of it - and then quickly decides he can't think about that, because he'll lose focus, but more importantly - he'll lose this silly little game they're playing before he even has a chance.

the hands fiddling with the button at the front of his pants shake him out of his own imagination and pull him back to the present situation, but the moan angel practically feeds into his mouth almost rattles him in a different way. for now, he doesn't clock that it's a little different - not unfamiliar, because blitzø's acquainted with some of angel's work already, just that there's a shift that his brain hasn't quite absorbed yet. he pants a heavy breath, catching angel's bottom lip with his teeth as he adjusts the curl of his fist and sets a steady pace with his hand, shifting a little closer on his knees so it's easier for angel to reach and work his pants open. ]

[harderdaddy]

[There's always a next time. Angel's had a knack for drawing in repeat business since he got down here. Bliztø might not be one of his Johns- actually, he's not really sure what they are. Friends? Friends who fuck? Is friends too...clingy? People who fuck then. Whatever he is, Angel feels sure there will be a next time.

And fuck, Bliztø really is too good at this for someone not in the industry, it's not fair. Angel whines as he manages to work those pants open, shoving them down Bliztø's hips and skimming his claws delicately over sensitive flesh.]

Bliztø-

[He sighs the name with another pleading sigh, arching up into that touch as he finally takes him in hand and starts mirroring the pace.]

[papichulo]

The sigh Valentino exhales is just on the cusp of being a growl as Angel finally acknowledges his own arousal with fumbling fingers, hips twitching somewhat involuntarily under his soft, wandering hand in a search for a little more friction. Unlike Angel, there's no shame in it for Val, just excitement. Entertainment, a low-humming thrill buried under every barb thrown back and forth.

Mentioning Vox, though, seems to stir something new, though. Val's expression shifts minutely, a tightness in his jaw there and gone in a blink. He drags his claws through the soft chest fluff, purposely making sure they sink through to the skin - not enough to break it, just enough to be felt.

"We have plans later," Valentino supplies, casual and easy. Again, hard to tell if that's the truth or if he's just trying to snuff out Angel's attempt at a dig. His secondary hands grip at Angel's hips a little tighter, and then suddenly he drags him away from the railing and turns him and himself around on his heel. "Why, would you like him to join us?"

Something in his tone sounds a little darker, but also a little excited. Valentino 's hands shove hard at Angel's waist, pushing him back and off, but he stalks right after him. "Careful, Angie. Jealousy makes you so fucking ugly."

[harderdaddy]

Hissing, there's a swell of pride at getting even that brief rise of out him, but just as quick it's turned back on him.

Angel half stumbles, feet working fast to back him up, and thankfully his mind still seems to remember the layout without looking. That barb cuts deeper than he's like, and he tells himself its vanity that sparks his anger and not that he is jealous. Nothing to be jealous of. Vox can have him.

"Good thing I couldn't care less," he says, claws snagging in a painting as tries to keep some distance between them, tearing the canvas with a loud, long rip.