Tom Trench Hazbin Hotel Novels & Stories

I suck in a shaky breath, chest heaving, the humid air burning my throat. That’s when I notice the figures. Four of them, standing just a few feet away. Towels wrapped around their waists. Without my glasses, it takes a moment for their faces to come into focus. But when they do, the blood drains from my face. Oh, fuck. TOBY The first thing I see is the giant tattoo—a bird of prey, wings spread wide, swooping in for the kill. Hawk sits on the edge of the hot tub, and in front of him, a slender figure is bobbing up and down, head buried between his muscular thighs.

Looking over to the bed, her two pillows were also missing, no sign of Ace's breath, nothing. "So small, indeed." A voice filled with disdain sounded, and Demi Moore looked up only to spot Tom Hulce stepping out in a bathrobe. He irritably rubbed his shoulder as if this was a bathroom, but his bathtub was even more significant than this place. Truly unimaginable...

Knox asked. "One of them keeps calling for Eva." Sienna looked at me. "Has to be the Ghost. Nobody else is that possessive." Relief hit me so hard my knees buckled. He was alive. Hurt, probably, trapped definitely, but alive. "How do we get to them without causing another collapse?" Marcus asked. "Carefully." A voice spoke from behind us. "Very carefully." We turned. Tommy stood there, barely recognizable from the beating Albert gave him. His face was swollen, purple, stitched together by a mediocre medical job. But he was upright and lucid.

He looked pale but surprisingly good for someone who'd been shot less than twenty-four hours ago. "Hi," he said, his gaze moving over our group with obvious confusion. "I'm Tommy." "We know," Troy said, stepping forward with confidence. "I'm Troy, and these are my brothers Lake and Soren. We brought you stuff because Dad said you were hurt and probably bored." Tommy's eyes moved to Xenois with a question in them. "My sons wanted to meet you," Xenois explained. "And apparently decided you needed entertainment." "That's really nice," Tommy said, looking genuinely touched as the boys started unpacking their offerings onto the bedside table. "Thank you guys. I've actually been pretty bored."

Tom fired back, both in dialogue and thought, “but it certainly makes the impending doom more entertaining. And let’s face it, red is not my color, so I’d rather avoid the bloodstains.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. It was gallows humor, perhaps, but when you’re dancing on the tightrope between life and death, every chuckle is worth its weight in gold—or lead, in his current company. “Mikhail, my dear friend,” Tom continued aloud, glancing at a henchman whose knuckles were white on the grip of his weapon, “your boys look tense. Maybe offer them a spa day off ? Nothing eases the tension like a good cucumber facial.”

He whisper shout to himself. He climbed out of the bed and strolled into the bathroom, he stood staring at himself in the mirror, his ruffled hair, his hazel eyes, his thin pink lips and his strong jaw, he is a fine man and a fine man like him falls for a woman. Christ, he can't waste all these manly goodness to sucking a man's prick, "yuck" he shuddered in disgust. Yep, that's right, he is a straight man, see, even the thought of sucking a man is disgusting. If he is a gay, will it be disgusting? Of course not.

"I am going to help you. Why? I am not sure." Slowly I walk Thomas into the bathroom and peel his vomit-covered shirt off his body. I don't know what I was expecting when I took off his shirt but my mouth gaped open with surprise. His chest is perfectly bulky and perfectly chiseled. There is a patch of hair right in the center of his chest that I am dying to reach out and touch. A large tribal tattoo covers the right side of his chest and shoulder. As I look at him, I wipe my chin because I know that I am drooling.

Grace! Having public displays of affection with another man under the public eye at her age, how shameless! And when he heard Anna call Martin ‘Dad,’ Tomas breath caught in his throat and could not go down. He pressed his chest, and his face went from red to blue. He suddenly lost the ability to breathe. He beat his hands helplessly at his chest. “Tomas!” Stepping out from the toilet, Hellen saw Tomas and immediately went for the bell by his bed.

If only I could hold on and please her. A few meters from the sleeping area, sitting on the couch, Tom furiously slams the laptop and throws it on the table. He gets up and goes into the shower, accompanied by surprised looks from the musicians of Run Up My Galaxy. ← Cube

In the next footage the man was pulling out the bloody knife and carefully planting it near Alejandro’s desk. I gripped the edge of my chair, my nails digging into the wood. “Well?” Tom didn’t speak, he rewound the footage, his expression unchanged. But his fingers paused over the trackpad. He leaned in, staring hard at the screen. “What is it?” I asked, my pulse racing. “Look here.” He pointed at the corner of the frame where a sleeve slipped back just enough to reveal a tattoo. Tom muttered. “It’s a mark. Symbol of the Serpents.”