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ineffable-suffering · 7 months

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #story of job #job minisode #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #my own meta

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bedoballoons · 4 months

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Considering my love language is physical touch and all I want after a long day is a hug this literally makes my heart just like melt!! Thank you for this request and I hope you enjoy!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~A hug a day~༺}

CW: GN! Reader! Mentions of the character being down in the dumps/sad, reader has a kind of sunshine personality and of course fluffy!!

Pet names used on reader: Mon amour, My dear, honey, my sweet

(Includes: Lyney, Diluc, Kaveh, Alhaitham and Neuvillette!)

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney rested his head on his arm, slowly turning his hat by the brim as it sat on the table in front of him...to say he'd had a bad day was a understatement. Out of all the things a magician could have happen to them during a performance, having their trick explained by a crowd member who then got everyone else riled up...was probably one of the worst. He could still hear the boos...and feel the embarrassment flow through his veins as things were thrown at him on stage.

"Oh what a day..." He sighed and you could hear his sadness in it, that was the last straw...you couldn't just leave him upset. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, hugging him tightly, "Those people are just mean, your shows are amazing and just because they called out one trick doesn't matter cause you will just come back stronger. I know you Lyney... don't let that one low life make you feel down...you're ten times more incredible then they will ever be."

You felt him tense at your touch, but quickly he melted into it and you could see his smile returning already, "Ah Mon amour, you're right. How can I feel sad when I have you, I'm luckier than any guy in the world. Thank you for reminding me."

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc swirled the grape juice in his cup, wishing he could simply forget the things he'd learned today. Gathering intel was normally easy for him, he'd use it to protect Mondstat...the ones he loved, but learning the dangers, what he was truly up against...it made him worry. How could he protect everyone against something so treacherous... "Can I really do it all alone?"

"Alone? You're not alone."

He sat up straighter, not expecting a answer...not expecting you to be walking towards him, how you always managed to know when he was in need of you was a mystery to him.. "When did you get back?" You smiled at him and wrapped your arms tight around his chest, "Just a second ago, I had a feeling something was wrong and that you needed a hug. Was I right?"

"More then you could know, thank you. My dear."

𑁍༄Kaveh:

Kaveh tossed his sketchbook onto the table, his pencil snapping between his fingers as his free hand ran through his blonde hair. Normally he'd just take a step back, cool off before returning to his happy self but the whole day had just been... well not great and not being able to sketch was the nail in the coffin. "I swear if one more thing goes wrong I- huh?"

He looked down at you as you embraced him tightly, your face snuggling into his chest, "It's okay Kaveh, we all have those kinds of days but I'm here and I'll make it a good day. How about I make some snacks, we can look at old photos and cuddle up on the couch."

Whatever he was feeling before you touched him...it was gone, just one hug and he felt better, he was almost convinced at this point you had some type of magic, "I would love that...thank you honey. Sorry you had to see my little freak out...aha not my proudest moment..."

"Everyone has them Kaveh, it's okay."

"Ah...what would I do without you?"

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham knew he didn't handle things like everyone else did, when others had bad days they'd get upset and stressed, take time to themselves...even cry, but he was far better at hiding how he felt. He'd stay in his study...reading for hours until whatever had made his day hard was but a small needle in a haystack of information...or at least that's what he used to do.

Now he had you and you weren't one to let him lock himself away, you would hold him tight even when he'd never usually accept hugs and for some reason...he enjoyed them. Having you so close, feeling your heart beat against his chest, instead of being alone for hours and reading till even he got a headache...it merely took a few minutes with you.

"Better?"

"Better."

𑁍༄Nuevillette:

Rain was batting against the windows, water pouring down the glass outside...and it had been going on for over a hour now. He'd have to apologize to everyone at some point, normally cases wouldn't bother the chief of justice, he'd been doing his job so long nothing really got to him...but the last one, what gruesome case it was and it had ended in such a horrible way...none of it even necessary.

"Neuvillette...you've been staring out the window for a long time. Are you alright?" You looked at him slightly worried, your instincts kicking in as you hugged his side...he wasn't really allowed to share the details of alot of his work, but you could always tell when the clouds appeared that one had gotten to him.

He looked at you for a moment and placed a kiss on your forehead, feeling his burden of information slowly grow lighter as your touch lingered, "Yes im alright my sweet, just...keep close to me for a second longer and the storm will clear."

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney fluff #lyney headcanons #diluc headcanons #diluc x you #diluc x reader #diluc fluff

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her-satanic-wiles · 5 months

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Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 8k.

Warnings: Copia’s a piece of shit, rape, non-con elements but more dubcon, mentions of rape, use of the word rape, violent sex, rough sex, dubcon, cnc, filmed having sex (unknowingly), filmed having sex (knowingly), piv, vaginal sex, rough vaginal sex, blood kink, pain kink, rape fantasy, masturbation, semi-public sex, semi-public masturbation, dirty talk, Copia is a creepy old man, rape recreation, spit as lube, fear kink, fear play?, degradation, misogyny, references to free use, reference to bondage, somnophilia, dacrophilia, vaginal fingering, rough fingering, exhibitionism, caught masturbating (close call), groping, coercion; slut shaming, nipple play, fingering, hair pulling, breeding kink, victim blaming, naked woman clothed man, under-negotiated to non-negotiated kinks, possessive, marking kink, use of safeword (sort of), praise, objectification, poor mental health, detailed trauma, aftercare

Author's note: Hey, all! I promise I will get on Divine Desires soon, but this just kept itching away at my brain, and whoooo Nelly, was it difficult to ignore. But here we are now! Please heed the trigger warnings!

The Ghouls aren't demons in my fic. They're humans who work in the Ministry, but they're a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards, depending on the importance of Papa's task.

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved, and cared for. Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

Phantom didn’t need to be unmasked for Papa Copia to know something was wrong. The ghoul barely made out two words before Copia stood and grabbed his candles. The frantic explanation was given as Copia whipped around his room, trying to find the correct materials. On such short notice, certain members of the clergy wouldn’t be available to help. So Copia would just have to make do with what he had. Or rather who he had. Phantom had told him the situation at hand, but none of Phantom’s words were able to prepare him for what he was going to see.

He could hear your moans - no, screams- echoing down the corridor from the other end - the loud pleasure in your voice bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears atop the sounds of the ten or so pairs of feet clambering down the hall to reach you quickly.

“Will you cum on his cock?” It was Swiss’ voice that sounded above all else, dual-toned and demonic. He was well and truly lost to the possession now. “Will you cum on the cock that rapes you?” Rape. Satan only knew how long you’d been subjected to demonic torture. Yes, your voice was oozing with pleasure, but he could still hear the pain sneaking through it. He could taste your fear on his tongue. You’d consented in the end, as it sounded, but how much of that was genuine want versus the deluded, terrified mind clouded in order to protect its host from life-altering trauma.

“Yes!” You screamed looking back up into his eyes. “I’m gonna c-cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!”

Copia swung the door open right as your orgasm hit, your mind clouding over and drool dripping from your mouth as you came all over Swiss’ cock. His eyes locked with yours and he had the unfortunate pleasure of watching the light fade, and your body go limp, bouncing with the rough force of Swiss’ hips as he continued to use you for his own gratification.

“You’re just in time, child.” The demon said, thrusts growing erratic. “Witness the gift of the Olde One.”

“He doesn’t advocate for such torment - especially on those undeserving.” Copia remarked as his clergymen took their positions in the room. The demon knew it was outmatched, and thus continued his assault on your body.

“Perhaps. But he advocates for rewards for his finest soldiers.”

“Ah, Asmodeus.”

“In the flesh, child.”

“Not for much longer.”

As the clergy began their chant, and the exorcism truly began, the demon Asmodeus made his final thrusts before releasing his spend into your unconscious body. Two of the Ministry’s ghouls, gargoyles more like, came forth to apprehend Swiss’ body and pull him away from you. Your hips fell onto the floor, ricocheting off the wood. Both Copia’s and Swiss’ eyes were trained on your severely abused core, the white flowing from you and dripping onto the ground, turning the faintest shade of pink as it mixed with the blood Swiss’ cock had forced out of you as he broke you. Copia could feel Asmodeus’ ferocity, his power surging at the sight of you, battered and bruised on the ground, leaking his cum. Given the surge of power coming from him, Asmodeus’ lust had mixed with Swiss’, both of them now fighting to bury themselves deep inside you again and have you once more to quench their lustful thirst.

Copia felt guilt wash over his body as it merged with an ocean of arousal. At the sight of Swiss’ cum spilling from you, his cock began to stir awake, wanting nothing more than to just get on his knees and take you as Asmodeus did. But he was your Papa, he could never bring himself to betray you, like that. If he was buried deep inside you, it would be with you as a willing participant, screaming beneath him, sure, but because he was taking you to paradise.

He shook himself out of the gross thoughts he was experiencing, and joined in to chant with his brethren. When he looked at Asmodeus finally, the demon shot Copia a knowing look before he was banished back to Hell, and Swiss’ unconscious body flopped exhaustedly to the floor. That look he received, told him that the demon saw right through him down to his very tainted soul. And though he knew the clergymen couldn’t read his mind like Asmodeus could, he still feared that someone could tell what he was thinking.

“Phantom,” Copia began, his voice shaky and weak until he cleared his throat, “we must take them all to the infirmary. Please go down and get as much help as you need. Wheelchairs should suffice.”

“Yes, Papa!”

Phantom, eager to save his closest friends turned on his heels and began his journey to the infirmary. Copia looked around the room, his eyes lingering as subtly as they could on each of the clergy’s lower regions, hoping he could find solidarity in such a fucked up situation. He couldn’t - which only added to his guilt.

He waited until everyone was settled on their chairs before he spoke again, giving specific instructions to each of the nurses who had come to assist with the tragedy, then addressing the clergy. “We must keep Swiss and the Sister separated,” he told everyone, “she has been through enough tonight without seeing his face again so soon.”

“What punishment for him, Papa?” a cardinal asked.

Copia sighed. “He was possessed - he would never do this in his right mind. I am… hesitant to sentence him. I’ll leave that up to the Sister’s good graces when she is strong enough to make those decisions. In the meantime, keep them separated.”

Copia followed you all the way down to the infirmary and stayed with you as you were getting immediate treatment. The bruises on your jaw were beginning to show, and your body was incredibly battered and red from the attack. But even so, even as he watched them mend you and put your broken pieces back together, his mind kept showing him your face - the expression twisted on it as you came around Swiss’ cock. The way you sounded still ringing in his ears - the sight of his seed dripping out of you.

He politely excused himself after making sure that you’d be okay and trotted back to his office, slamming the door shut behind him. By now, his erection was full of blood and aching to the touch against the confines of his jeans. His hands fumbled against his robes in desperation, throwing the garment over his head and onto the floor and leaning against the doorway as he pushed his jeans down far enough to expose himself. The cool, crisp autumn air making his balls tighten and his nipples erect beneath his shirt. His hand, still hidden beneath his leather glove, received a healthy glob of spit before he wrapped it around the head and began to stroke, spreading his saliva around and lubricating the slide.

He groaned at the sensation, his back fully pressed against the wood of his door. The slide was impeccable, but nothing compared to how you’d feel. Swiss wasn’t a small man by any capacity, and so Copia swallowed some guilt forming as he let his mind wander. Did he ruin your cunt? The amount of time he was inside you was so great, did he form a space just for him? Or were you still as tight as Copia wanted you to be? He imagined you’d still be nice and tight for him, though, he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the thought of him invading a space carved out by another man.

Copia always made it abundantly clear he wasn’t like other men, and sometimes that was to his detriment. For you, especially, he wanted you to feel safe around him, loved by him. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in any capacity because he prided himself on being one of the “good guys”, that he’d never betray you in the same way the other men did. He worshipped women, he’d never be misogynistic to one. He was a stand-up, tolerant man. Yet there he was, walking slowly towards his desk and positioning himself against it, rubbing his erection so hard and fast, his arm was beginning to ache in discomfort with the image of you being roughly taken by one of his hardest-working ghouls. And he couldn’t help imagine what it would feel like to have been in Swiss’ - no, Azmodeus’ position - how tightly you’d cling onto him as he used you for his own pleasure; how your delicious cries would travel all the way down to his erection and have you weeping below him. He wondered how deliciously you’d sound begging for him to stop, pleading with him to show you mercy as he took what he wanted and gave not a single fuck for your wants, desires, or even personal pleasure.

His eyes shut tight as he savoured the sensations he experienced when he swung the door open, the painful pleasure painted on your face as you came for Lucifer knows how many times. How you passed out and your body went limp from exhaustion, yet bounced at the violence of Swiss’ thrusts. How his mouth went dry when he saw your red and swollen pussy eject Swiss’ seed, and pool amongst your blood on the floor. And with that final sight, his own orgasm reached him - his cum spurted across his desk and gathered on the wood, sending flashbacks to Swiss’ cum gathering the same way beneath you. He grunted animalistically, mouth hanging open as his body tingled from the force of his orgasm, toes curling in his boots and hand slowly coming to a halt, yet still wrapped tightly around his cock.

This was when the guilt was beginning to set in. Though you may have consented towards the end - you weren’t in your right mind. Copia had no idea just how long you’d been the subject of Azmodeus’ torment - or rather, torture - and thus knew that whatever happened to you earlier was not done with your willingness and permission. Yet there he was, eyes fixated on his cum as though it had tumbled from your delectable core, with disgust filling him from bottom to top as he realised just how gross he’d been. If you found out about this - you’d never trust him again. The Satanic Church didn’t welcome things like this in the same way Catholocism did. Granted they pretended they didn’t, but no actions were taken against the perpetrators of such crimes. And he was Papa. He was supposed to keep you safe. He’d failed you then, and as he wiped his spend from the mahogany, he realised he’d failed you now.

Life passed without incident until a few days later, when it had been brought to his attention by one of the guitar techs that Swiss kept disappearing from his duties and no one knew where he went for hours at a time. Copia knew. He didn’t want to believe it, but he had his suspicions. Immediately, he went into his office and switched on the computer, clicking away at menus and windows until he found what he was looking for: the security camera footage. He clicked on the first video in date chronological order and sat there, studying each frame. At first, nothing happened: it was just Swiss sitting at the foot of your bed, and by the looks of his shoulders - he was sobbing. He saw you two engaging in conversation - how your eyes widened in apparent fear as you registered who was there with you. He couldn’t help the stirrings of excitement at the sight of you visibly recoiling from Swiss’ presence, and then later from his comforting touch. Then, it all happened so fast.

One moment you were having a conversation, you nodded at him and then Copia watched as Swiss climbed on top of you. He was like an animal - a desperate, hungry animal that needed to be sated immediately or he’d die of whatever ailment was afflicting him. Swiss pawed at your bedsheets and hospital gown as he exposed your heavily bruised body to the elements, and spreading your legs wide enough to fit himself in between them. Swiss immediately pushed into you, and you winced as though you felt the same searing pain you felt the first time he did. But after a few uncomfortable thrusts, the pleasure returned once more, and your hands, now finally responding, flew to his shoulders and grasped on, digging your nails into his skin.

Copia’s cock was standing to attention at the sight of Swiss taking you again, and you accepting him willingly. And this time, he knew it was willing - your head nod was enough for him to know that you wanted Swiss inside you again - you wanted to feel that fucking cock take you for a second time. Copia was all but foaming at the mouth, fumbling with his robes once again and freeing his achingly hard cock. He barely even had the wherewithal to spit on it, so desperate to time his hands with Swiss’ hips, he was more than willing to start rubbing himself dry. Any pain he felt could be retribution for his perverted actions.

He cursed - partly at the feel of his cock being abused by his own hand, but also in frustration at the stupid, shitty fucking cameras they put everywhere had no fucking sound! Sweet Satan, he’d give his left nut to hear what Swiss was saying to you, and he’d give his right one to hear your response. He couldn’t even see Swiss’ lips to lip read anything, so instead he let his mind to the work.

He imagined Swiss telling you how much of a whore you were for him, letting him fuck you in an infirmary where anyone could walk in. He imagined Swiss reminding you of what he did to you the day before, and how he would do it again and again if he could. Lucifer knows Copia would. Copia would keep you bound and gagged and spread wide open for him to use as and when he saw fit. Copia would take your tight little cunt for hours at a time, and offer you no reprieve until he had his fill. What if Swiss was telling you that he wanted to do that very thing to you? Would Swiss let Copia have a turn on you? Would Swiss watch? Before Copia had chance to cum, Swiss had already done so, and was climbing off you. Copia loosened the grip on his dick but still continued to watch as Swiss walked away.

The next video was dated to the very next day, and began with Swiss entering your room while you were asleep. His hand reached up your legs and dipped below the comforter. That fucking scrap of fabric was obstructing his view, but Copia understood exactly what was going on, especially when your hips started bucking in response. He was fondling your body as he played with your clit, biting his lip and molesting you as you slept. Your body clearly wanted it, though, given how willingly your legs parted and your hips chased the pleasure. When your eyes fluttered open, so achingly innocent Copia wanted to bite you, again there was a flash of fear behind your eyes before you became soothed at Swiss’ face. He was smiling, a devilish grin that would no doubt make even Copia quake in his boots, but you, still sporting bandages and unable to make full expressions, were staring at him, daring him to take it further. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, but instead you pointed up at the camera, and for a brief moment, Copia felt his heart fall out of his ass as both you and Swiss were looking directly at him. Neither of you knew Copia was there, of course. At that time, no one was. But it didn’t stop Copia from feeling like he’d just been caught by you both with his cock in his hand and said hand rubbing it vigorously, like a horny teenager who’d peered into the girl’s locker rooms.

Swiss took the comforter and pulled it off your body, folding it haphazardly over the foot of the bed and exposing your pretty, little cunt to the room. Given the camera was positioned to your right and in the corner of the room, he couldn’t see everything he wanted to see, but he got a glimpse of your labia parting as Swiss’ fat fingers spread them to access your cunt. His fingers entered you, and wasted no time stretching you open for him. Copia watched your body jiggle helplessly beneath the wrath of his hands, and how little Swiss cared for your hands grappling onto him and holding on for dear life. Copia’s hand once again matched Swiss’ tempo, and found himself coming to the edge far quicker than he wanted, but he just couldn’t stop himself.

Ashamedly, Copia came before he could even finish the second video. Your face was contorted in absolute agony as Swiss pushed into you and fucked you hard without giving you a moment’s rest to recover and get used to his size. Copia’s cum landed on his screen, splattering all over your pixelated face as a fucked up cum tribute. Copia wondered how your face would look covered in his cum in real life, and that almost got his cock standing on edge again. The guilt settled in soon after, but not as much as it did the first time he came to you. This time because your consent was all over these encounters. You let Swiss fuck you now, legs spread for him willingly and screams no doubt wanton for his cock. You let him maneuver your body in ways benefiting the security camera. You nodded, and cursed, and screamed out your consent as Swiss played with you. His only guilt now was that you didn’t know he was watching you.

Yet, he downloaded each and every single one of those videos (there were seven in total, one of each day of your time in the infirmary), and each one a varying degree of fucked up with you in a varying state of healed. In one of those videos, Swiss had just decided to stick his dick inside you as you slept, and you had no idea he was even there until he’d been gone thirty minutes and you felt his cum oozing out of you. Copia watched you use Swiss’ cum as lube and masturbate for hours, cumming four times just with your fingers and glistening with both his release and your own. If he wasn’t such an old man, he’d have joined you in your multiple orgasms. Alas, though his cock was very much interested, his body would have no more of it today.

A day didn’t go by where he’d load up one of the security camera videos and jerk off in his office. By the end of the two weeks you’d been out of the infirmary, and when you’d recovered enough to return to your duties, he’d replayed each of the videos several times. It was like he was addicted, choosing only those videos. When he’d decided to quit them, for fear that his actions and attitudes would change towards you, he’d become unbearably miserable and frustrated with everyone and everything. Everyone noticed the difference, and even gave him a wide berth, just in case he snapped or shouted, something he never used to do. It got to the point where those videos became a necessity, and he hated himself for it. He would continue to hate himself twice a day or a week further before the inevitable happened.

All that time spent with his hand on his cock in his office meant that one day, a knock would come mid-stroke, and he’d be forced to conduct a meeting with a raging boner. It happened, and as he scrambled to close the video and cover his modesty, you walked through the door. Satan, he wanted to pounce on you. Despite all you’d been through the previous month, your demeanour had barely changed. In order to appear respectful to your superiors, you still crept through the door with wide, innocent eyes, body closing in on itself in shyness and submission. Before, he thought this was endearing - telling of your sweet personality. Now, it made him want to rip your clothes off you, bury himself inside you, and take you until you were screaming his name, and shaking beneath him. His cock twitched when you made eye contact with him, and spoke in a soft voice, “You wanted to see me, Papa?”

He did? Fuck - he did! How could he forget he sent one of his ghouls to find you this morning? He needed to know what to do about Swiss - although, the CCTV footage of your infirmary room told him all he needed to know. You didn’t know that he knew, and so he had to at least keep up appearances. “Yes, tesoro.” He gestured to the sofa in front of his desk. “Please, sit.” You sat so prettily on his sofa, making sure your habit was draped in such a way that preserved any modesty you may have had. It all seemed like a viscous facade now. He knew who you truly were when you were naked and vulnerable. “How is your recovery?”

There was still a faint bruise on your jaw from the assault, but otherwise it looked like you were almost completely healed. You confirmed as much in your response, finalising it with a sincere, “thank you.” Those two syllables felt like punches to his gut. ‘Thank you, Papa, for caring about me, and worrying about me. I appreciate you.’ Meanwhile, he used one of the most traumatic experiences of your life as his masturbation material and betrayed your trust twice daily.

“Are you starting therapy now?”

You nodded. “I’ve only had two sessions so far, but she’s already helping me work through things.”

Copia nodded. “That is excellent news, tesoro. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, Papa. And, I wanted to say thank you for saving me back then. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to tell you, but I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t have come when you did.”

He swallowed, the guilt eating him alive as his mind showed him your face as it came around Swiss’ cock - the first time he’d seen it. His posture changed, allowing his right hand to naturally rest on his thigh, before travelling true north and beginning to rub over his clothed bulge as subtly as he could manage. “Please, do not thank me. I only have your safety and wellbeing at heart.” Fucking liar. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Even still, thank you.”

“It is actually why I wanted to see you today. I wanted you to be strong enough to have this conversation with me. Swiss committed a vile sin, even one Sathanas cannot support. As you know, He is all for depravity but only when all are happy with said depravity. He needs to be punished - let the punishment fit the crime. I wanted you to decide the punishment, as you were the victim in all of this. How do you think we should punish him, tesoro? No limits, what you say goes.”

As expected, the look on your face was made up of stunned silence. Your eyes widened in fear. You didn’t want Swiss to be punished. You’d already forgiven him. The look on your face had his hand applying pressure to his cock. Fuck, you had no right looking this sinful. “I don’t want him to be punished, Papa.” You said quietly.

“But, tesoro… he-”

“I know. But he didn’t, did he? He was possessed. And you sent the demon back to Hell, right? I think that’s punishment enough. Let our Dark Lord punish the demon for his crimes and have him suffer for eternity in the pits of Hell.”

“Well, no punishment will be given to Swiss, if that’s what you ask. I must say, this is highly irregular. A testament to your kindness, I suppose. How do you feel about Swiss?” He was skirting dangerous territory now, but he couldn’t help himself. He wondered if he could use your trust in himself against you, and have you admit to sleeping with Swiss. Copia didn’t know what he’d do if he heard those words fall from your mouth, but he poked and prodded nonetheless. “Would you be comfortable being around him again?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Copia raised his brows in fake surprise. “You truly are incredible, tesoro. After everything? I’m in awe of you. I’m surprised to hear that. Perhaps we can start with - eh - supervised socialising until you’re used to seeing him again.”

You nodded in response, eyes to the ground and refusing to make eye contact. You were shifty. You were withholding the truth. You were obvious about it.

“Tesoro?” He asked, allowing his voice to be just a fraction sterner than usual. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Papa.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me?” There was silence for a moment. “You’ve already seen him, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

Copia deliberately sighed. “Well, you are a grown adult, tesoro. I cannot stop you from seeing anyone you do not wish to. But you should know I disapprove. He could still have been dangerous to you. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you again.” There was silence again. “What are you not telling me, Sister?”

“I- Please don’t be disappointed in me, Papa.”

“I could never be disappointed in you. Please, tell your Papa what’s troubling you.”

The flood gates opened. You were desperate to share the information with someone. Clearly, you’d not been doing so with your therapist. You confessed to everything, how Swiss came to you when you first woke up, how he’d fucked you every day since. Not that you used such explicit words. He’d taken advantage of your nervousness and lack of eye contact, and had gotten more and more brazen with the movement of his hand over his cock, openly masturbating now beneath his desk. He didn’t expect you to look up - he didn’t think you would. But as you were talking, you glanced at him every now and again, so quickly he missed every one. Until your talking had slowed and a soft, “Papa?” Fell from your lips. Your eyes were now fixated on his hand, a hint of betrayal glistening in them. Copia didn’t stop now - he couldn’t. The look on your face had travelled straight to his cock, and now he was going to take this opportunity to take you. “You already knew that I’d seen Swiss, didn’t you?”

“Sì.”

You swallowed. “H-how?” By this point you’d stood from the sofa.

“I think you know.”

“You saw…?”

“Every one.”

You turned your back to him, hand over your mouth and tears of humiliation threatening to spill. The second you saw the camera, you should have refused Swiss. But the thrill was too much and you couldn’t say no. You also couldn’t lie and say you felt completely and utterly betrayed by your Papa - because while you were, and had every right to be, you also felt heat pooling between your legs at the thought of Copia watching every single time Swiss was inside you.

You didn’t hear Copia stand or approach you. You only knew he was there when you felt him press up against you, hands snaking round your waist and pulling you towards him. Any piece of you that he could get his hands on, he did so: gripping your thighs, stomach, breasts. His chin rested on your shoulder, lips mere centimetres from your ear as he spoke. “Perhaps there are other ways to work through your thoughts, hm? Do you want that? You know, for all I saw, I didn’t hear much of anything. That first night in the infirmary, what did he say to you, tesoro? What did he say that made you part your legs so willingly, so soon?”

“H-he…” You felt Copia remove your veil, pulling it to the floor and exposing your hair.

“Go on?” He urged as his hands began to unbutton your habit. They were moving sinfully slow, almost painfully so. It was as if he were dragging this out on purpose just to spite you, or drive you insane. Perhaps both were true.

“He told me that he was sorry.” Copia had dipped his hands beneath the shoulders of your outfit and dragged it down your body to pool at your feet, his lips immediately attaching themselves to your near-naked shoulder. If it wasn’t for that infernal bra strap, he’d have you completely bare for him. “He told me that he felt bad for what he did.”

“And that’s all you need, Sister? An apology has you spreading your legs for any man who offers one?”

“No! He-” You bit your lip, now feeling his hands unclasp your bra, one hook at a time. “He told me that he felt guilty for finding it so hot. But that he…” Your bra fell to the floor and you swallowed.

“Keep going.”

“He couldn’t stop touching himself to the thought of it.”

Copia groaned behind you, his teeth grazing your delicate skin. His gloved hands moved up to your nipples and began to pull and play with them, rolling them through his index finger and thumb. His hard cock rubbed gently against your clothed ass, showing you just how desperate he’d become.

“He’s a talker, isn’t he?”

You nodded.

“Tell me, tesoro. What else did that filthy mouth of his tell you? What got you so riled up for you to let him fuck you in your hospital bed?”

One of his hands released your nipple and gently traced the curves of your stomach all the way down to your panties. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband, and immediately went in search of your clit. He needed no map to find it, it as as if he already knew your body and how it worked - perhaps it was all the videos he watched of his ghoul doing the exact same thing to you. He worked your clit in gentle circles to begin with, fully content on just teasing you until he got the information he wanted out of you. You released a soft moan in response, reaching your left arm behind you to grip onto his greying hair. Your right hand clutched at his wrist, and held on tightly as he continued his assault - an assault you welcomed with open arms.

“Papa!” You whispered. “I can’t.”

He tutted. “She’s getting bashful on me now, no? Seems a bit late for false modesty when I watched your cunt get spread on a camera. You can and you will. What did he say to you?”

Though his voice never raised, it did become more stern. It didn’t feel as though he’d take no for an answer. Just like Asmodeus, he would use you with or without your willingness being present. Unlike with Asmodeus, you knew Copia would stop if you really asked him to. He could be an asshole sometimes, but he wasn’t a monster. You didn’t want to tell him no. That night unlocked something in you that at first you’d only thought about doing again with Swiss, but now with Papa willing to give you what you wanted, it turned out you wanted this again, over and over until you were some kind of brainless toy.

Copia pinched your clit between his fingers when you were taking too long. “I won’t ask again, Sorella.”

“Fuck!” You screamed. It was painful, of course it was, but your scream was oozing with pleasure, just like it was when Copia had walked in on Asmodeus taking you. “He loved how wet I got! He - fuck, Papa! - He loved me c-creaming on his cock. He loved hearing me cry out for him, and begging for him to-”

“To what?” Copia’s finger now rubbed in circles, faster and with a lot more pressure. “Say it!”

You were talking much faster than before, the words spilling from your mouth before you could even process them. “He want to hear me beg him to fuck me over and over. Wanted to turn me into his toy. Get me pregnant. Papa, please!”

He bit your ear softly. “Did you enjoy it, tesoro? That night with the demon? Did you love it?”

“Mmmmm fuck! Not at first! He - shit - hurt me. But then it - it felt good towards the end.”

“How many times did you cum?”

“I d-don’t remember. Maybe twice?”

Copia groaned again. “Puttana.”

Your hips were bucking wildly, chasing a high that Copia was right on the precipise of giving you. You were so close. You needed it. “I’m gonna cum! Papa! Papa!”

“Cum all over your Papa’s fingers like a common fucking whore, that’s it!”

The dam broke and the floodwaters emerged, your orgasm hitting you like a ten-tonne truck and tensing your body from head to toe. Those very toes were now curling into the rug, your fingers tightening in his hair causing him to let out his own screams. You had no idea what your body was doing, and the fact that you were yelling throughout the entirety of your orgasm, howling like a banshee as tears fell from your eyes at the intensity of it all.

“On your back on the floor.” Copia instructed.

You did as you were told, lying your bare back against the plush of the rug. Copia’s face crumpled at the sight, though. He wanted you on the wood. So, he nudged you with his shoe to get your attention, shook his head and pointed to where he wanted you. You obliged, and spread your legs as soon as the cold shock had dissipated from your body.

“You get off on this, don’t you?” He said, removing his robes and reaching for his zipper. “On being used and manhandled against your will.”

You nodded.

“Is that why you let Swiss use you every fucking day, eh? Are you trying to relive it?”

You hesitated for a moment too long, and Copia took that as confirmation. He chuckled darkly, unzipping his jeans and removing his cock from its confines, finally letting it breathe after you almost catching him at the beginning. “Do you know what, tesoro?” He began to position himself above you, lining up with your sopping heat and rubbing himself against your clit. Your fingernails dug into the floor at the oversensitivity that had now begun to set in, your heart racing with anticipation. He pulled your hips closer to him, having you partly resting on his thighs, immaturely laughing a little at the sound your body made as it was dragged against the floor. “I got off on it too.”

He delighted in the way your eyes lit up with so many emotions, before finally allowing your face to contort with the pleasure of him pushing his cock inside you. There was lust in your eye, of course, remembering how you made eye contact with Papa as you reached your second orgasm that night. You remembered the last thoughts that raced around your head before you blacked out. Now that you’re thinking about it, you remembered seeing a primal look in Copia’s eyes underneath his concern, and the thought made you tighten around Copia’s cock that had begun slamming into you, after deeming you ready enough.

“Swiss was feral for you afterwards,” he told you, eyes fixated on your cunt as it squeezed him, “we had to restrain him with multiple gargoyles because he was going to go back in for a second turn.”

“Fuck, Papa!”

“And now I see why - cazzo!” A string of Italian fell from his lips that you couldn’t quite understand. But it didn’t matter, the thought of Swiss fighting against the Ministry’s protectors in order to get inside you a second time had set your body alight - the primal need to satiate his hunger now ingrained in your mind for the rest of time. You allowed loud moans to fall from your lips as the angle Copia fucked you at had his cock hitting your g-spot each time. “His - his cum… and your blood - fuck! - I wanted to taste it then see how my cum would look mingling with both of you. If I wasn’t surrounded by the clergy, I might have had my fill there and then too.”

You bit your lip and gripped onto his strong arms, those arms and hands grasping onto your hips for leverage as he roughly fucked into you, getting deeper and deeper to now have his tip hit your cervix and his shaft rub constantly against that sweet spot. You were losing your mind, mewling out for Papa as he took you on his office floor. “You sh-should have anyway!” You mumbled through your moans.

Copia’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah? You wanted me to fuck you in the ritual room with the clergy watching? Fucking Jezebel. You always seemed so sweet, Sister. Who knew you were so filthy? Is that why you agreed to the ritual in the first place, tesoro? You like it when people watch?”

“Yes!”

At this revelation, Copia began to thrust harder. This wasn’t usually a turn on for him - in fact, he’d never really thought much about it before - but the idea that you would get off on it had him harder than he ever had been in his life. He wondered how far it would go - if you imagined the other members of the clergy joining in in some capacity. How many of them could you have taken before it became too much? How many before you woke up? What about when you were awake? How would you react knowing that all the clergy members were touching themselves in a circle around you as Copia railed you for a ritual? Would you willingly open your mouth for them? Would you let them cum on you? Had you done this before? Was this a revelation that was new to you after Asmodeus? Copia’s mind was racing with questions and possibilities.

His mind snapped out of its musings to watch you beneath him, taking his cock to the hilt and loving every second of it. It felt so good, your mouth was hanging open and drool was slipping from the corners. Your eyes rolled back, eyebrows furrowed and sweat glistening over your body. You were so wet, creaming on Copia’s dick and he watched the strings of your juices pull and snap with his movements. With every passing second, every thrust, he understood why Swiss couldn’t get enough of you, why Asmodeus fought tooth and claw to get inside you again. Copia would be inside you every single day if you let him. He wanted to watch you bounce off his cock every day, watch your body jiggle at the force of his thrusts, how your tits jerked while his cock ravaged your insides. The way your ass ricocheted off the ground each time he moved had him damn near feral for you. You resorted him down to his animalistic instincts, his primal urges. He just wanted to bite you as he fucked you, mark you, claim you, show the world that you were his.

He wondered how Swiss would react to finding marks on you that didn’t belong to him. He imagined Swiss getting angry - he shouldn’t but he did. Fucking you within an inch of your life, bruising your body in multiple ways while he was deep inside you, reminding you that you belonged to him. Sathanas, he wished he could strip you bare and uncover Swiss’ artwork on you, and add more of his own. It was fucked up but he needed it and so, without much thought, he lifted your leg, bent himself over you and bit wherever he could reach, painfully biting and sucking hickeys onto your body. You screamed with the onslaught, your own fingernails and hands digging into his flesh and leaving marks of your own. But, after the third bite, you let go with one hand and began to furiously rub at your clit, relishing the pain and fucking yourself to a second orgasm, and shaking with the force of it. You tightened impossibly around Copia’s cock, forcing him to rest while you finished yourself off. But Copia wasn’t done with you. Not even the slightest bit. “On your stomach, tesoro.”

Your eyes widened a little, a small inch of panic setting in. “What?”

“Stomach. Now.”

“Copia…”

The use of his name hit him like a punch to the gut. “What’s wrong?” He said, his voice dripping with concern, not an ounce of lust in his eyes anymore. He noticed. He was taking it seriously.

“Please not my stomach.” He wasn’t there for the first half of your torment - he didn’t see what Asmodeus did to you. You wanted to explain why, but you couldn’t find the words. But Copia seemed to understand immediately.

He nodded, “Of course, tesoro. D-do you want to stop?” He asked the question almost like an afterthought, but it came to him nonetheless.

“No. Please.”

“Please what?”

“I-”

“We can go as dark or as soft as you like, amore. Please what? Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Take what you need. Use me, Papa. Please.” You said, your voice tapering off to a desperate whimper.

Copia groaned, a visceral, gutteral sound. “Spawn of Satan, begging me to use her like a fucking toy, eh? As you wish, tesoro. Take my fucking cock. It’s what you were made for, right?” He dropped your hips dramatically, kind of showing you now that he had no interest in making you feel good now. It was all about him from this point onwards, and you were going to know about it. He positioned himself above you, completely trapping you beneath him now, and began to slam into you so hard, your body moved across the floor each time. Grunts and groans were ripped from your throat involuntarily, spilling your truth into his ears whether you liked it or not - the helpless feeling had you wrapping around him like a vice, and refusing to loosen the grip.

“Gonna fuck this cunt every day.” He continued, muttering mostly to himself. “Might keep you in my chambers, spread out and ready for me to use at any point.” You tightened. “Or better yet, keep you naked and tied to my desk so I can use this hole when I’m stressed. You want that, hm?”

“Yes, Papa!”

“Tell me.”

“I want t-to be your toy! I want you to use me every day. I want your cock inside me every day. Please, Papa!”

“Such a good slut for me. Swiss trained this cunt well, didn’t he?”

“Yes! Made me ready to please my Papa whenever he wants me. Trained me to take all of Papa’s cum and not spill a drop.”

“Filthy whore. Take my fucking cum. T-take it all. Merda! Cum- cumming!”

Copia’s groan filled the room much louder than any of your moans ever did, drowning out the sound of his hips slapping against your wetness over and over again. His thrusts became more and more erratic until he eventually stilled inside you, completely emptying his balls and filling you to the brim. He felt so good inside you, like you were made to take him. He stayed inside you for a little while before pulling out and removing himself from your body, and that was when you felt it.

All of the helplessness from before returned the moment Copia stopped touching you, and you realised just how vulnerable you’d allowed yourself to be with someone other than Swiss. Tears began to fall, and wracked sobs took over your body as you lay naked on his floor, an ache beginning to form in your core as you tucked your body in on itself. Copia, who was putting himself back together, immediately dropped his robe and dropped back to his knees, enveloping you in a tight hug and pulling you close to him, allowing you to hide your face in his chest. “I got you, schricchio.” He said, bringing back the pet name that you loved. The ultimate comfort nickname. “You’re safe. I got you.” He rocked you back and forth, shushing you gently and rubbing your skin. “I got you.” He let you cry. You obviously needed to.

With Swiss, it all felt different because he was just as tormented as you were. His body was assaulted too, and despite his body being in the dominant role, he had no control and no way to stop it. The guilt ate him alive when he wasn’t inside you - when you weren’t begging him for it. But Copia? Copia was your boss - the head of your church - a man who you’d spent the better part of a decade trusting and loving. You’d never let him see you like this before, never let him catch you being weak and powerless. You saw that despite the nature of your coming together, you could still trust him. He still cared deeply about you and your emotional needs. When you almost told him to stop, he would have, and in fact, he almost did.

“I’m sorry for being too rough with you.” He told you. “I’m sorry for starting this.”

“No.” You said through tears. “I liked it.”

“No, schricchio. I took advantage. I’m sorry.”

He let go of you just for a brief second to grab his robe, and wrap you up in it, trying to warm you up as soon as he heard your teeth chattering. It was the adrenaline wearing off, he knew that, but still he wanted to do everything he could to comfort you after that. “Thank you.” You whispered through tears.

“I want you to listen to me, okay? No one is ever going to do any of that to you again without your consent first. I should have protected you better the first time, ___. I’ll do better in the future.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either. And I’m here if you want anything. A talk, a distraction, a friend.”

You sniffed. “Were you serious about locking me up in your chambers and having your wicked way with me?”

He chuckled. “Why are you interested?”

“I might be.”

“We’ll see. For now, lie on my sofa. I’ll get you cleaned up soon, but for now get some rest, schricchio.”

He helped you off the floor and led you to the plush couch you sat on before. He sat on the floor while you got comfortable and held your hand as you began to drift off to sleep. All the while, his thumbs rubbed against your skin, and every now and then, you felt a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You were safe with him. You always would be.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

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I really love you aemond fics!! The angst always on point, so I have a request you can reject it.

After the birth of thier child who doesn't hold targaryen features, aemond doubts his wife, and his mother doesn't help ease his doubts. He refuses to see her or even be in the same room, which makes the reader falls into depression it wasn't until the babe was few months old and able to open their eyes probably that the violet targaryen eyes are shown. He hears it from her personal maid and then tries to redeem himself after seeing the state she has fallen into, feeling great guilt because of his mistrust to her.

Sorry if it's too long and thank you!

Woof, nonnie, you're going straight for the jugular with this request.

I hope you don't mind, but I've altered this slightly to fit with the headcanons I have for Aemond. Drabble below the gif and cut. This is SFW, but still 18+.

You cried, tears of relief and exhaustion rolling down your cheeks as you fell back into the pillows. Finally able to relax, hours of painful and intensive labour were at an end as the nursemaids worked to remove the afterbirth and wrap your squalling bundle.

Aemond ceased his anxious pacing as the babe was placed into your waiting arms. Striding towards the bed and seating himself on the edge of it, he placed his arms around you protectively, kissing the crown of your head. "You did so well, my love, I'm proud of you."

"Congratulations, Prince and Princess, you have a healthy baby girl." smiled the nursemaid.

You beamed up at your husband, as you cradled your newborn daughter to your chest.

The look of adoration and wonder shone bright in Aemond's violet eye as he gazed down at the infant. "We will call her Alysanne" he whispered.

You smiled, offering a tired "hmmm" in agreement. You eyes were heavy with impending sleep.

"I will let you rest, my love", Aemond said softly, placing a delicate kiss to your temple, "I must tell my mother the wonderful news. Avy jorrāelan." I love you.

Aemond had a spring in his step as he walked the corridors of the Red Keep towards his mother's apartments. He was a father, surely there was nothing that could sully this happy feeling?

Chatter from the courtyard below caused his ears to prickle, and he stopped in his tracks, lingering behind a pillar to mask his presence as he eavesdropped.

"I just can't imagine wanting to couple with...him..." a lady's voice said, full of disgust.

"I know!" the other assented, "Imagine having to look upon that marred face. It would make me sick."

"I shouldn't imagine that princess does look upon him much. Who would want to?"

"Yes, it's highly unlikely the babe is his. A bastard, I reckon."

Aemond had heard enough. Bile rose in his throat, as his heart hammered wildly in his chest. The search for his mother forgotten, he found his legs carrying him back towards your bed chambers.

Insecurity fuelled his actions. You'd never given Aemond any reason to doubt your love or devotion for him. If anything, you were slightly over eager to perform your marital duties and Aemond basked in the attention you rained down upon him.

There was always a niggling doubt in the back of his mind though. "She can do better. She deserves someone whole."

He swept back into the room, regarding you coldly, as he stood at the foot of the bed.

You paused your rocking of your fussing infant and looked up questioningly at your husband.

"Is she mine?" he demanded.

Aemond regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, seeing the hurt expression that crumpled your soft features.

"How can you ask such a thing?!" you gasped, holding Alysanne protectively to your chest, as if to shield her from the insinuation his question carried.

He felt his heart twist urgently in his chest as he struggled to find the words to placate you. "I..."

"Leave us!" you snapped, hot tears scalded the rims of your tired eyes.

Aemond felt as though his very soul was being torn from his body, he reached forward, desperate to comfort you in your fragile state.

"I said leave us!" you all but screamed, tears now flowing hotly down your cheeks. Your daughter wailed in your arms.

Aemond turned, downtrodden, and walked away. "What the fuck have I just done?" he thought to himself.

After a few hours riding on Vhagar, Aemond returned to the Red Keep with a sense of clarity and deep regret.

He slipped quietly into your bedchambers. You were asleep, unsurprisingly. The hour was late and your labours had left you exhausted.

Baby Alysanne lay gurgling in her cradle beside you. As he gazed down at the babe, the pale moonlight reflected the vibrant lilac hue of her doubtless Targaryen eyes. He hated himself for ever questioning her parentage. For questioning your loyalty.

He gingerly reached into the cradle, stroking a gentle hand over his baby daughter. A lone tear tracked its way down his cheek as she grasped his index finger in her little fist.

"ñuha byka zaldrīzes, iksan sīr vaoreznuni", he whispered. My tiny dragon, I am so sorry.

You awoke as the sun was rising, bleary eyed and waiting for the room to swim back into focus. Confused as to why you hadn't been awoken by the cries of your daughter.

The sight that finally met your eyes when you eventually sat up immediately melted your heart, all anger you'd felt for Aemond the previous day dissipated.

He sat slumped in an armchair beside the bed, dozing as Alysanne lay sleeping soundly on his chest. One of his large hands was splayed protectively across her back as she nuzzled into his neck.

You were unable to stop the happy tears that flowed freely and your sniffles startled Aemond from his light slumber.

Slowly and with much care he lifted baby Alysanne from him, placing her back in her cradle and moving to sit beside you on the bed.

"I am so sorry", he whispered, his voice mere moments from cracking, as he pulled you into his arms.

"All is forgiven, my love," you stroked his hair to soothe him, "I know you did not mean it, but why ever did you say it?"

He inhaled a shuddering breath, before pulling away from you and cupping your face as he looked earnestly into your eyes. "I overheard some common folk yesterday saying how awful it must be for you to have to lay with me and I am ashamed to say I let my own thoughts get the better of me."

"Oh, Aemond", you whimpered, "How can you let anyone make you think that? You know there is no one I would rather have as my husband than you. No one I love more."

"I know", he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "And I will never doubt you again."

"Good", you quipped, pressing forward to capture his lips with yours. When you finally broke apart you whispered, "And if you tell me who these common folk were, I will have them fed to Vhagar."

He chuckled drily. "Avy jorrāelan, ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes." I love you, my fierce dragon.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x reader

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kpop · 1 year

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Music Spotlight: MIYAVI

Are you ready for a special Music Spotlight guest appearance? This week, we’re featuring popular singer/songwriter, guitarist, and actor MIYAVI to celebrate the release of his anime cover album MIYAVIVERSE. Check out our full interview below!

Tell us about your recent album, and what you hope fans take away from it.

The new one is an anime song cover album. We cover anime songs like Evangelion or Naruto or Hunter, classic ones. One of the reasons why we did that was because I am Japanese, so it’s great to relearn that content, and I’m sure so many of my fans will be familiar with those anime. It’s a fun process to bring those anime tracks to MIYAVI’s world. It’s a different kind of vibe—anime songs, J-pop. But once I start playing the guitar, it’s like the original universe of the sound—and that’s why we named the album MIYAVIVERSE. It doesn’t have to be only the anime songs—it’s more like when we covered ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’, or ‘Youth of the Nation,’ or other Japanese tracks as well. Obviously it’s MIYAVI’s sound, but it’s a fun process to do a cover.

Your 14th studio album is themed around hit anime songs—what would you consider your favorite anime of all time, and your favorite opening/ending song?

My favorite is Dragon Ball Z. I know, it’s too classic, but that’s the thing I was watching when I was young. And every anime lover is going to respect Dragon Ball Z. To be honest, it’s too hard to cover that song—we can do it, but I don’t know if it's doable to perform on stage in a cool way. So that’s why we gave that one up.

Your illustrious career spans the last 20 years and multiple mediums—what would you consider the highlight up until now? Are there any major moments of growth you can recall?

Yes, a lot. First of all, when I moved to Tokyo from Osaka when I was 17 years old. I was kind of beginning to start finding myself as an artist. And then I became a solo artist, and then, you know, I started focusing on the guitars, and people started calling me a guitarist—so what’s my name? And then, in 2008, I started going on world tours, learning English, and acted in the film Unbroken with Angelina Jolie—so of course, you know these are big moments. And then I became an ambassador for UNHCR—that’s huge.

If you could give your younger self advice on how to cope with the pressures of society, especially in the entertainment industry, what would you tell them? Would you give your kids that same advice?

First of all, keep going and polishing up your skill, what you have—you know—your talent. That’s everything in the end. Nothing else helps you. I still just keep telling myself that. You know, it’s not about the connection or relationship or, of course, personality is counted—it’s included. More than that, as an artist, what you can give to the world is everything—so just keep going. As long as you have "it".

What are your biggest passions outside of music and acting? Are there any hobbies you turn to when you need to destress?

I play games. It’s a great connection with my daughters. It’s a huge connection, and then even while I'm away from home, I can still communicate with my daughters. And then it’s great to have something you share with your family. At the same time, it consumes a lot of time. So that’s the thing—once we start playing, it’s like we keep playing because it’s fun, and we go crazy. But at the same time, time is time, and I do need to work. But that is the hard part, and it is working well for our relationship. It is also the same thing if you play soccer or basketball or sports, it’s kind of the same thing.

This year marks your 20th anniversary, and in that time, you’ve racked up an impressive list of accomplishments. Is there anything you haven’t done yet that you’ve always wanted to? And are there any opportunities you regret not taking?

Basically, there are no opportunities that I regret not taking because I take everything. I never miss opportunities, as you know. When schedule conflicts, and some things that I was not able to do, there are some of course. But, personally, I never missed any opportunities in my life—so there is no regret. But there are tons of things that I have not accomplished, and want to accomplish. We haven’t gotten any GRAMMYs. These are not everything you know, but that's a great goal to have—and I have to work harder to accomplish it.

Want more MIYAVI? Check out his new anime song cover album MIYAVIVERSE here.

#music spotlight #miyavi #kpop spotlight #miyavi music spotlight

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hotvintagepoll · 24 days

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Propaganda

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

Nadira (Shree 420, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai)— She had a blast playing the femme fatal in Indian films in the 50s. Also the costumes she wore in Shree 420 are absolutely iconic. It's important to mention that she was Jewish. She was born Farhad "Florence" Ezekiel in Baghdad to an Iraqi Jewish family. They moved to India sometime in the 1940s. The funny thing is that she originally wanted to convert to Catholicism and become a nun but joined the film industry instead as her family desperately needed money. Even though she was unfortunately typecast in femme fatale roles after playing the nightclub entertainer Maya in Shree 420, she always gave 110% to every role she was cast in. Apparently she acted in a German film as well? She was also one of the most highly paid actresses in the Indian film industry and was one of the few Indians to own a Rolls Royce.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

Nadira:

I just submitted a whole list of golden-era Bollywood stars without whom I thought this tournament could not conscionably be considered complete BUT Nadira has got my personal vote for Hottest of the lot. She played a bunch of delicious vamp roles in her youth before graduating to being a creepy spiderlady antagonist type in middle/older age. Rare is the still in which she looks like she's NOT about to gnaw your face off. Yow!

#nadira #julie andrews #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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lenathekiller · 8 months

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*~Filling the Loneliness~*

A Buggy x gn!reader

Tags: mix of angst, smut and fluff basically, a bit of voyeurism too

A/n: excuse mistakes I'm very rusty at writing but this damn clown has a chokehold on my mind. I wrote this with LABuggy in mind but it could fit Anime buggy as well tbh. The only derogatory word the user is called is sl*t and it's only used once.

Word count: 6683

It was just another day of work, managing the costume shop that you'd come to own somehow. It was a relatively good sized shop, selling a variety of clothing one might use for performances or wear to the masquerade themed parties the town held every week.

Your little costal town had been unofficially deemed a safe space for pirates to come dock without having to worry about being captured for bounty or fought off by other pirates. Hence why the town threw celebrations themed around casting aside one's identity to just enjoy a night of drinking and having fun without a worry for their own safety.

You never cared to attend the celebrations, instead using the time to do trivial tasks around the shop like checking inventory or working on new masks or makeups to sell. You were doing such right now infact.

Behind the counter you sat, working on some paperwork you needed to finish, calculating what had sold best this week compared to last week.

"Welcome in!" You called out when you heard the squeaking of the shop's old door opening, but did not glance up to check whom had come in. "I'll be with you in a moment, feel free to look around and let me know if you need any assistance finding what you need."

Footsteps approached the counter followed by the creaking of someone leaning against the counter across from you. "Actually doll you can help me, I came to get my usual order of things. So where's ole Petey?"

Keeping your eyes still glued to your papers you continued to work as you replied. "That old coot's dead. Died bout 3 weeks ago after drinking himself into a damn stupor and falling into the sea. So I'm in charge of this place now unfortunately, seeing as I was his only employee."

You heard a chuckle "That damn old man. I tried to warn him something would happen but I suppose he got what he deserves after partying too hard even at his old age."

"Got that right. Sure he was a good boss but the bastard drank more than any pirate that visits town." You scoffed finishing up your work and setting it aside. Finally looking up you instantly recognized the man before you. "Now how can I help- oh it's you."

The man stood up straight, fixing his coat proudly with a grin. "I see you know of the Great and flashy Buggy. Of course you would, I mean who wouldn't?"

Placing a hand on your hip as you stood from your seat, smiling back at the Clown pirate. "The boss never seemed to shut up about you, constantly talking about how you were his best customer.... amongst other things I'd rather not repeat."

His face fell a bit at your hinting of the old owner saying less than honorable things about him.

"Don't worry, I never took his rambling of you to heart. He was always a cranky drunkard who'd complain about anything or anyone he could." You reached over and patted Buggy on the shoulder reassuringly, before motioning to the backroom with a thumb. "Thankfully that man made notes about his regulars preferences so I'll be right back. Just gonna go grab em real quick so I can get you what you need without all the hassle of you having to explain your likes and dislikes of products to me."

The tall clown gave a nod, watching you disappear into the back of the shop. Taking the opportunity to glance around at the stock around him, mentally taking note of what had changed since he'd last been here about 3 months ago.

After a few minutes you returned holding his wanted poster, reading the scrawling of notes written on the back of it. "Let's see, looks like you prefer the typical Circus clown makeup, of course long lasting and as smudge proof as possible. Though we don't carry one of these brands anymore...-" You were deep in thought now mumbling as you moved around the shop grabbing the items noted on Buggy's preference sheet.

The said Clown Pirate stood leaning on the front counter, watching you zip around like a little mouse searching for all the usual products he buys. He had to admit you looked quite cute all worked up and focused on your job like that.

"The only thing we don't have from this list is the white face paint, but have no fear my good man for you're in luck." You placed down the small basket of products before him. You gave a small 'boop' to his nose with your finger before proudly crossing your arms. "I happen to make my own white face paint, and am willing to give you my latest batch if your interested."

"Oh really? And just what do you know about clown makeup little shop keep?" He asked you smugly, with a smirk

"A lot more than you think bozo. I was a mime for ten years, hence my fashion sense idiot." You gestured to yourself and your choice of clothing.

He admittedly hadn't really paid attention to what exactly you were wearing, more distracted by your actions and words. Though now he could see you were wearing black pants, that were doing wonders to make your thighs look great, and a oversized longsleeved striped black and white shirt, with some subtle mime makeup. "Huh. I hadn't even noticed."

You stood there silent for a second, before reaching up to pat his cheek a bit mockingly. "It's a good thing your attractive, cause you sure aren't that observant are ya bud?"

The man was thrown off guard at the fact you'd just complimented him, albeit also insulting him along with it. Usually he's the one being somewhat cheeky and flirty to others with no prevail, but here you were just casually complimenting him like it was nothing.

You moved back behind the counter, pulling a container of white paint, a handheld mirror, a few brushes as well as sponges, and a damp rag. "Well here let me show you just what I actually know about clown makeup."

Before Buggy could even process what was going on, you'd already snatched his head off his shoulders, now holding it between your hands. "Hey- Just what do you think your doing?!" He spat out at you in an annoyed tone, head already trying to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Take it easy hot stuff, you're too tall for me to do your makeup if your standing. I'm simply making this easier for both of us." You took a seat in your chair, laying Buggy's head on your lap between your thighs so he was facing upwards. "If you're a good boy who stays still I may even give you treat."

"Forward aren't we? Already putting my head between your legs and I've only just met you. I mean I know I'm flashy and all but I didn't realize I was having such an affect on you babe." He teases as the both of blush a bit at the position your in.

"Oh shut up, fool. Only in your dreams would your head actually be allowed between my legs in such a sinful manner." You cut off any reply he could give by begining to gently wipe the makeup off his face with the damp rag you'd pulled out previously. You made sure not to rub too hard as you scrubbed his face clean, though the red on his nose wasn't coming off at all.

He picked up on your confusion, rolling his eyes and sighing a bit annoyed. "That's not makeup sweetheart. My nose is just naturally big and red."

You smiled sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. I knew it was your natural nose I just didn't think it was naturally red as well."

"Yea yea, crack your jokes now about it so I don't have to hear them later" His eyes were looking elsewhere as he spoke, avoiding your gaze as much as he could.

You paused, looking into his eyes till he eventually gave in, making eye contact with you. "Why would I joke about something you can't control or change about yourself?"

"Cause everyone else does so why wouldn't you as well?" He stated matter of factly, while studying your gaze, seeing a flash of hurt for him in your eyes.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." Shifting your gaze to look at his nose for a second, and smiling faintly as you spoke. "In fact I think it's cute to be honest. Seeing it up close somewhat makes me want to give you a kiss right on it."

Buggy was well and truly lost for words now, just a blushing mess that was forced to look right at you. You just let him stay like that, giggling softly at his cheeks that seemed to be almost as red as his nose, before you finally gave him some sort of mercy by applying new makeup to his warmed face. The both of you stayed silent during the whole thing, you concentrating on the paint you were applying to Buggy's face as his head laid there in your lap, him studying every inch of your face as you worked.

He had to admit he was trying to memorize every little detail of your face, from the color of your eyes, to every little twitch of your lips while you focused, the way your tongue would poke out slightly and brow furrowed when you were painting thinner lines. He was trying to savor this moment while he could, knowing there was never a moment like this before nor would he ever possibly experience anything like this again. No one was or ever would treat him with such care and attention as you were currently, this truly was a once in a lifetime thing for him and he wanted to remember it forever.

Eventually you finished, putting down the paint brushes, and lifting the clowns head up in your hands to admire your masterpiece. A smile formed on your lips as you stood, moving to reunite Buggy's head to his body again and handed him the handheld mirror.

"Pretty good huh?" You spoke as he looked at your handy work.

You did the exact same look he had on before but there was a noticeable difference between his work and yours. His makeup had looked more messy and somewhat smudged before, as if he practically lived in it, where as now the lines were crisp and colors vibrant. He looked like a clown people would smile and laugh with, no longer one people feared instantly.

"Damn sweetheart, you're even better with your hands than I thought." He teased as he handed you back the mirror, giving you a wink and click of his tongue.

You winked back at him with a smirk. "Don't give me all the credit, I mean I had quite the attractive canvas to work with."

"You seem to really enjoy flattering me." His head cocked curiously at you "Or are you just this flirty with all your customers?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, starting to clean up the counter and repackage the products you used on him. "Nah, just you Buggy. I guess you could say I have a thing for clowns."

A floating hand grabbed your chin gently, guiding your gaze back to it's owner, whom was now leaning in dangerously close to your face. "Hmm, well too bad for you. I don't have a thing for chatty mimes."

He could have sworn your gaze had flicked to his lips for a moment before you licked your own, but he'd chalk it up to his desperately lonely mind imagining things. The hand let you go, reattaching itself as Buggy stepped back, away from the counter. You took a minute to snap back to reality, then went back to packing up his order.

The pirate began to roam a little, looking at all the different costumes and masks you had displayed around the shop. Maybe he could get a few new outfits for some of the crew before they all head back out to sea in a few days. Hell maybe he'd get himself a new flashier coat too, one that would really wow the audience when he makes his grand entrance every night.

"Got everything you need packed up and ready for you. Did you want to get anything else?" Your voice pulling him from his thoughts and luring him back over to you.

"Was thinking bout a new coat, something flashy, but I'll hold off till tomorrow on that." He spoke, pulling out a few coins to pay you with.

"Oh good! So I will get to see you again." A smile formed on your lips as you took the payment and slid the box of merchandise over to him.

"Of course! I would never deny a fan from seeing my greatness up close in person." He takes a dramatic bow towards you, before placing one hand over his heart. "What kind of performer would I be if I did such a thing?"

You just laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head a bit.

He grabs the box off the counter and headed to the door, turning to bid you farewell. "You've been a wonderful audience, but it's time for me to take my grand exit unfortunately."

"Farewell Captain Buggy. I'll be waiting patiently till your next performance." You give a small round of applause for him as he leaves.

You stand there for a minute or two, replaying the whole interaction in your head, letting out a frustrated cry when you realize something. "FUCK! I NEVER TOLD HIM MY NAME!!"

"Didn't tell whom your name?" A voice says, causing you to jump.

Turning you see famed pirate Mihawk, you jump once more. "Ah! Sorry sir! I didn't hear you come in, my apologies."

"It's quite alright, I will not fault you for being so lost in thought in your own store." He stoically dismissed your concerned apology, removing his hat and placing it on the counter. "I seem to have gotten a bit careless earlier and somehow got a cut in my hat. Am I correct to assume this is the place I can get it fixed up nicely and quickly?"

Looking at the mentioned cut you assessed it was something that you could indeed repair, and quite quickly. "Yes, I do not believe this will take me that long to patch up, and I'll make it as unnoticeable as possible of course. Give me about an hour and I'll have it good as new sir."

"Very good, I shall be back then." He gave a curt nod before leaving, and as soon as he was out the door, you immediately set to work on fixing the hole in his hat.

After one hour had past exactly, Mihawk came strolling back in, gaining the attention of the few locals that had come in to browse.

"Perfect timing I finished a mere moment ago." You handed him back his hat, watching as he inspected your craftsmanship intensely.

A smirk cracked on his lips as he glanced back up at you. "Very well done, you can not even tell it is there unless you look extremely closely at it. Of course no one will ever be close enough for that, so you have my thanks." He placed a hefty amount of money in your hands before leaving.

"Whoa! That guy's intense!" One of locals muttered as they came to the counter.

"Yes he is, but thankfully I was able to do a good repair job." You replied, starting to ring up the items they'd set down.

"He seemed quite pleased with your work, maybe he'd be willing to dance with ya at the celebration tonight." Someone else chimed in, as they got in line to be rung up.

"Don't be ridiculous. That man is much too serious for my liking, I'd feel on edge the whole time." You shuttered slightly at the thought. "I never go to any of the parties in town anyways, but even if I did I'd rather spend my time around someone more akin to Buggy honestly."

A scoff could be heard, followed by a disgusted toned response. "Really that loser? He's a pretty sorry excuse for a pirate don't ya think?"

A few other insults and comments were thrown in agreement by others in the shop.

"HEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You shouted, causing everyone to jump and go quiet. "If y'all want to shit talk that man then: GET.. OUT..OF..MY..SHOP!" you put emphasis on those last words, pointing your gaze to each person, whom was just talking, with each word.

A few people gulped in fear at what you might do if they say anything more.

"Captain Buggy is a highly valued customer here, so if you want to run your mouths like that about him in front of me then there will not only be hell to pay, but you will also be banned from my shop for life."

Everyone remained silent and somewhat timid of you until they left the store thankfully.

God did that get you're blood boiling, and you weren't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the clown had just been in here early and then suddenly everyone's throwing around insults about him. Or maybe it was more so the fact that Buggy had wormed into your heart quite easily during the earlier interaction you'd had with him. Whatever it was, it caused you to be uncharacteristically protective of someone other than yourself or the few people you were actually fairly close to. He was risking his life out at sea, putting on showy performances of a lifetime, while everyone in town here just partied and got drunk constantly, yet they'd all looked down upon Buggy in distain.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you began to occupy your time by sketching ideas and designs for costume pieces you could make to sell. Eventually you found yourself drafting up some designs for a flashy coat you'd think a certain blue haired pirate captain might not only enjoy but also look great in.

The squeaking of the door could be heard, pulling you from your current sketching, you looked up to find Buggy back in the shop.

Your face instantly lit up with a smile upon seeing him. "Hey there handsome, I thought you wouldn't be back till tomorrow."

He smiled back at you, making his way over to lean on the counter across from you. "Well what can I say? I was craving the love of an audience... well that and I realized you never gave me that treat for being a 'good boy' like you said earlier."

"Oh and just what kind of treat would the marvelous Buggy the Clown like?" You stood up, making your way around the counter to stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. "Maybe something like a free pair of gloves, or a discount on one of the pricer costume pieces, or maybe even a specially made mask that will fit around your cute nose?" At the mention of his nose you gave it a small 'boop' with your finger.

He gently grabbed the hand you used to tap his nose, holding in his as he looked into your eyes. "Actually I was more so hoping for that kiss you claimed you wanted to give me. Ya know the one you you said you want to give me on my nose you seem to like so much."

"Oh-" You were caught off guard a bit, in a good way however as it caused you to blush. "I suppose I can do that, yea.."

A wide smile grew on his face as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning up to place a small kiss to his bulbus red nose. You'd only pulled back a few inches away from his face, looking into his eyes for a moment before a mutual pull had you both leaning back in and connecting your lips. It was a sweet kiss, that lasted for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two in reality, though it left you both speechless for a moment.

"Uh wow, I um- wasn't expecting that sorry." Buggy said, breaking the calm silence you'd been in.

"Heh, yea me either, but I enjoyed it so don't apologize." You slid your hands up to cup his cheeks on either side of his head. Something felt weird though when you did. "Uh not to ruin the moment but you seem to be missing an ear..."

A nervous chuckle came from him. "Heh, about that..." He stopped speaking for a moment a bit embarrassed as his missing ear seemed to zip out of your back pocket and back to his head. "I kind of left it here earlier."

"When did you put that there?" You were more shocked at how it got his ear into your pocket without you knowing, than you were mad at him for seemingly spying on you.

"I did it while you were distracted with my theatrics of leaving." He smiled sheepishly. "I heard you defending my honor so to speak and felt bad about the whole spying thing after that so I decided to come back."

"Hmm, if you say so~" You squinted at him, being jokingly skeptical of his words.

"I'm willing to make up for the spying in anyway you want." He held his hands up, seemingly in a playful surrender.

You faked thinking really hard for a moment, before smiling and giving your response. "I suppose you can give me another kiss, then I'll forgive you."

A shit-eating grin plastered itself across Buggy's face, while his hands now detached pulled you close to him by your waist. "Oh that I'd me more than happy to do."

The two of you shared in another sweet kiss, this one with a bit more passion pouring from both of you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to pull away, though eventually when your lips had parted from each other's you remained there holding each other still.

A pit started to form in your stomach, the kiss was great sure but you hardly knew him. For all you know he could have a spouse and kids somewhere, yet here you were openly flirting and kissing him without even a second thought. There'd always been a sort of loneliness in you, always craving the love of another but never being able to find it. You had small flings during the time you were a mime, ridding yourself of that lonely feeling for short periods with the fleeting intimacy of your fellow performers. Though it had grown especially harder since you had moved here, to fight off that ache, no longer having the trusted company of others, only visiting pirates that brought danger with them and the townsfolk who only ever seem to care about partying their troubles away.

Then Buggy came in and you couldn't help latching on to the hope that those rumors of him being less of a threatening force were correct. Thinking he might be easier to approach, that he wouldn't be a threat to your own safety, and you could use him easily to fill that void again for at least the night. There would be no worry about catching feelings considering he only comes for supplies every few months from what you'd heard, and he surely would or has met others who catch his eye far better than you ever could.

It was all starting to make you feel guilty the more you thought about it. "I'm sorry Buggy."

His expression flushed with confusion. "Huh? What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that I don't fear you." You moved out of his grasp slowly, gaze now shifted to the floor.

More confusion. "How is that a bad thing exactly?"

A sigh escaped from you, back now facing the puzzled pirate. "Every other pirate that comes to town leaves me feeling on edge. Sure this town might be big on reputations not mattering here but I can't help but fear for my life around the few pirates that do come in to this little shop. You must have heard the fear I felt earlier over Mihawk's visit, yet I was completely at peace when I saw you. I guess I let the gossip people say about you being less threatening or less strong as others affect how I saw you. I kind of used you somewhat for my own selfish desires today or was at least planning on to."

"What do you mean by that exactly?" You couldn't read his emotion in his voice and you dated not look back at him.

"I've always longed to experience love but I never have been able to. I use to sleep around with my fellow performers to chase off my feelings of loneliness, though I can't do that anymore since I've moved to this town. The pirates bring too much uncertainty with them and the locals are all a bunch of careless party animals, but you've been described as somewhat of a push over. In my subconscious I guess I thought I could use you like a toy to make myself feel better with out caring about your own feelings since we're both pathetic cowards." As you spoke tears began softly falling from your eyes, causing your own makeup to become a mess. "I was wrong to think that though, and I realized it after you kissed me again. You don't deserve to be treated so poorly, especially not by me. I'm sorry Buggy for thinking so little of you, when in reality you are far greater than me."

Silence. No response from the man came, only the sound of you sniffing filled the air for what seemed like forever. Though finally detached gloved hands came to rest on your shoulders, snaking their way up your neck to cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears. Handless arms wrapping themselves around your waist from behind as Buggy's head floated Infront of you, looking into your eyes.

"It's okay sweetheart, there's no need to get so worked up over lil ole me. in all honesty I can't blame you or hate you at all for wanting to use me. I mean I would have used you right back." A bit of guilt hid behind his gaze, a small comforting smile on his painted lips. "I know I'm the great Buggy the Clown, but I'm in the exact same boat as you. Searching selfishly for small cures to fix the deep desire of wanting to be loved by someone. I've honestly used so many random people along my journey, never caring how'd they feel when I'd be gone the next day, never to see any of them again. There's no telling if I'd have ended up doing the same to you or not."

Staying there you a moment, both of you processing what you'd each admitted to, you could help but feel drawn to him again. Even if it was wrong of you to do considering all you'd said just now, you couldn't help but to reach up to cup his floating head, guiding his face towards yours again before kissing him.

"I'm sorry, i-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Don't be.." He said, connecting his lips back to yours again.

The kiss quickly turned passionate, it was clear that you both need this right now and there would be no resistance from either one of you. When you'd broken apart for a moment to catch your breaths, Buggy took the chance to spin you around and put himself together again. Now that your chests were pressing together, he recaptured your lips as one hand flew over to lock the shop's door and flip the sign to closed, before coming back to join the other hand in grabbing your ass. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, one moving to his back as the other moved to softly tug off his bandana.

Tangling your fingers into his soft blue hair, few groans escaped him when you dared to tug at it. The sound only served to light a quickly growing fire of desire in you, which lead you to tug his hair some more in order to gain another few groans from him.

"Damn you really like my hair don't you?" He teased, trailing kisses down to your neck now, finding your sweet spot quickly, nibbling and sucking on it. "Though it's not fair I'm the only one making noise here."

You moaned at the feeling of his mouth marking up your neck, grinding your hips greedily against his, growing desperate for some form of friction between you two.

"Buggy~ pl-please" You whined a bit and he took the hint, using one of his hands to pin your waist against the counter while the other began to rub over your clothed crotch. He pulled his head away from your neck to watch the faces you were making at his touch. He felt he could watch you all day honestly, the way your eyes had become full of lust and your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip, was so mesmerizing to him. His own arousal and desire blossoming as he watched you try to plead with your eyes for him to touch you more. He maybe a killer but he knew how to be nice when he wanted, and thankfully he chose to play nice tonight by giving you what you wanted.

His hand stopped rubbing against your aching clothed loin, moving to undo your pants and pull them down.

When you tried to push your underwear along with them he stopped you. "No no- not yet." He picked you up, placing you so you were sitting at the edge of the counter, as he kneeled down to place his head between his legs. He started planting little kisses and bites along your thigh leading towards your core untill he was about to plant a kiss directly where you needed his touch the most, but instead switched to the other thigh, doing it over and over again to tease you.

"Captain please quit teasing~" you begged, not knowing how much more his little game you could handle before you'd go insane.

"Alright doll, but only cause you asked so nicely." Finally he removed your last bit of clothing covering your needy sex, planting tender kisses that only served to make you crave him even more.

Gradually he began to use his tongue, licking and sucking in all the right places and in all the right ways, drawing out moans from you, that he could only describe as beautiful. All the little moans, whimpers and curses of his name were music to his ears in all honesty, and he knew once he'd gone back out to sea they would haunt his dreams every night till he saw you again.

Of you in turn would be haunted by the memories of the way his mouth felt on you right now, the way it seemed to be effortlessly drawing you closer to your climax. "Buggy~ 'm close" Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, encouraging him to continue what he was currently doing until you had cum. Thankfully he did, letting you reach your high, then lapping up the mess you'd made without any hesitation.

Once he knew you'd come back down from your orgasm, he stood up and guiding you off the counter where you sat, moving to bend you over it instead. Removing his gloves and undoing his pants, his aching member flew around to your mouth while a few of his fingers began to tease your hole.

"Do me a favor babe, suck on that for me and get it nice and slick with your spit while I make sure your stretched out enough here for me to fit."

He didn't need to tell you twice, instantly you took the floating member into your mouth sucking on it and running your tongue over the tip. You took as much as you could into your mouth and throat, using your hand to spread excess drool over what little bit of length you couldn't. As you worked bobbing your head on his cock, he began to work your hole, starting by slowly inserting two of his digits into you, sliding them in and out a bit before scissoring them carefully inside you, and when he felt you were ready enough he inserted a third digit into the equation.

After a bit when he felt you were stretched out enough, and his dick was thoroughly lubed with your spit, he removed himself from both ends of you. Joining himself back together, he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, groans escaping from both of you as he did. His movements were slow and steady to start, letting you get fully accustomed to the feeling of each other.

"Fuck, even with all that preparation your still so tight." He groaned out into your ear, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he started to speed up his pace a little. "You doing okay? Nothing feels uncomfortable right?"

You shook your head, trying to remember how to speak anything but his name. "No- I'm fine- feels so good Buggy"

He plants a few kisses on your shoulder before he stands himself up straight, quickening his pace more till there's an audible slapping sound of your skin slapping against each other's. Just as you both were getting lost in the pleasure and feel of the other one's body, a knock errupts from the door.

The pair of you glance towards the door, seeing Mihawk standing in the window of it. Without even slowing down his thrusting for a second, Buggy detaches his torso and floats it to the door to answer it.

"What do you need?" You hear the clown ask annoyed, probably glaring daggers at the swordsman.

"I came to talk to the shop keep. I wanted to inquire about replacing the plume of my hat." Mihawk responds unfazed by the current situation.

"Really shit head? You can see were in the middle of something obviously, you couldn't wait till tomorrow to ask?" Buggy crosses his arms, now pissed at the man for interrupting you two over something so stupid. "Get lost, and If you bother me again while I'm fucking their brains out, I will kill you and serve them your heart in a pretty little box. Got it!?" With that he slams the door and relocks it, before his torso makes its way back over to you float Infront of you.

"Mmm~ Fuck that was kinda hot, and I loved the way you threatened him babe." You look up to meet his gaze.

"I know, I felt you clench a bit when I said it." He plants a kiss on your lips. "Now, that he's got me all pissed off I'm sorry but I'm gonna take it out on you. Sorry in advance"

He reconnects his body to his hips, gripping tightly onto your waist before picking up the pace of his thrusting till it's almost painful how quickly he's plunging in and out of you. Your hips are being harshly pressed into the counter's edge by force of his pounding, your brain going numb, only capable of barely forming his name on your lips occasionally or producing various loud groans of pleasure.

Somewhere in the hectic mess of your mind trying to keep ahold of what's going on, you realize you'd cum again, which only furthered the overstimulated mess of pleasure you'd become.

"Nng- Bu-ah-gy~" It was no use, you were desperately trying to beg him to slow down a little but words were far out of your reach in your current state.

"Shhh sweetheart" His removed head came up to rest beside your own to comfort you. "Only a little longer baby, I promise. I'm gonna cum soon and then we can take a break ok? You want me to come in you, right? Want me to make you mine, don't you?"

He weakly nodded in response as he kissed you, your mouths seemingly melding into one.

Finally his hips ceased all movement, burying himself as deep as he could before releasing into you. "Good slut~ see, doesn't it feel so nice to have my cum in you?"

Finally you regained the ability to speak. "Yes~ that was so... wonderful."

"I know it was, we practically had a standing ovation with all the clapping our bodies were making." He joked, removing himself slowly from you. "Now let me help you get cleaned up after that outstanding performance."

"I'd like that. We can go up the stairs in the backroom, I live above the shop." You stood up carefully but when you wobbled a bit Buggy instantly picked you up and carried you up to your bathroom, with the help of your directions. The pair of you bathed, him of course helping you clean and dry yourself off before you both moved to lie on your bed.

"Buggy, will you stay the night with me please?" You rested your head on his chest, curling up into his side.

"Of course. I couldn't even dream of leaving your side right now." He placed a few kisses to the top of your head while one of his hands now comfortingly rubbed your back.

Blissfully you both laid there silent, basking in the soft glow of the moon rising through the night sky and shining through your window. You could both hear the faint noise of people partying in town square, laughing and shouting in drunken glee, it serving as a form of white noise to your thought filled minds.

"Hey Buggy, can I make a proposition, well I guess it's more of a request?" You shifted so you could look into his eyes, that were now seemingly glowing in the low light.

"Sure my starlight. What is it?" A thumb ran over your cheek tenderly.

"Would you be willing to be mine?" You studied his face for a second as he thought. "I know I'm being a bit foolish here but you've filled that lonely void in me more than anyone else ever had. I honestly think I've fallen for you somewhat today and I don't want to lose you. I don't care if we can't see each other for months on end, just please let me selfishly love you for at least a little while and maybe you can even love me too."

Something twinkled in his eyes as you spoke, knowing he felt the same. You'd both lived your lives searching for someone to love, or someone who could love you back and now the two of you were here entwined in bed together. You'd both filled that empty void in each other, chased off the loneliness together and somehow grown attached to the other in less than a day. Even if this was only a fluke, a mistake on your part, Buggy wasn't going to question it in the slightest. You were practically begging for him of all people to love you, of course he wasn't going to deny your love. You were the first person to love him and want to be loved by him, he'd be an idiot if he pushed you away now.

"Of course! I'd give anything to be yours honestly!" He pulled you into a deep kiss, sealing your new relationship with tender passion. When he'd pulled away, the pair of you had eyes filled with joy.

"I do have one request of my own though, besides wanting you to be mine as well."

Curious and excited you nodded for him to continue.

"Can you finally tell me your name at least?"

#one piece live action #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #one piece fanfiction #live action buggy the clown #mine

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nahoney22 · 1 month

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Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

Tags:

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#nahoney22 writes #gn reader #the bad batch #tbb #tbb echo x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch x gn reader #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tech bad batch #Hunter bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch

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gretavanfleetposts · 1 year

Text

Dance for Me

Author's Note: This was a request from the lovely @jake-kiszkas-smirk so thank you for trusting me with your horny thoughts 🖤 and thank you @earthlysorrows for helping me edit!

Summary: Josh finds your old stripper heels in the back of your closet and requests a dance

Content Warnings: masturbation (m.), oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, stripping, dirty talk, swearing, brief mention of sex work, sexual content (18+ minors do not interact)

Word Count: 5k

"Hey babe?" Josh called from the closet, his voice muffled by the clothes that surrounded him.

"Yeah?" you called back, listening for the sound of his voice again as you sat in bed, book in hand. But instead of hearing anything, you saw his bouncy curls emerge, a quizzical look on his face as he exited the closet with your old pair of black studded stripper heels in hand.

"What are these?" he asked, holding them up for you to see.

"Those are my old heels…" you answered hesitantly, not elaborating on what exactly they were from. Although, it was quite obvious they weren't everyday shoes.

The heels themselves were long and thin. Dangerous looking, really, as they supported a platform about four inches tall. Shiny and black and covered in pointed steel studs that caught the light about the room well, they resembled some of the outfits you had buried in your lingerie drawer that sometimes made an appearance on special occasions. But these had been hidden away like the job you had done while wearing them.

"Where exactly did you wear these?" Josh asked with a cheeky grin suddenly spreading across his lips as the image of you wearing them clearly began to form in his mind.

"Well…I used to be a dancer. A stripper, actually…" you explained slowly, waiting to see his reaction and praying he wouldn't judge you.

It wasn't that you'd been keeping it from him. You just hadn't found a way to tell him yet. Your relationship was still fairly new and it tended to freak guys out when they heard you were a stripper, even as far in the past as it was.

But there was no hint of any judgment on Josh's face. In fact, he seemed only amused by the idea, a smile teasing up at the corner of his plush lips.

"You've been keeping secrets from me," he teased with a toothy grin.

You gave him a relieved smile back.

"I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted.

"I'm only sad I never got to see you perform."

You should have expected the look in his eyes, something well past teasing amusement and inching toward the dangerous territory of interest and intrigue. You could have sworn too that you saw the slightest twitch in his khaki pants that seemed to betray his thoughts. It didn't take much guessing to assume where his mind had gone, and given that he hadn't judged you even in the slightest, a refreshing change from the many insecure guys you'd dated before Josh, your mind was already turning around the same idea he seemed to be having.

Setting your book on your nightstand, you stood from the bed and slowly waltzed over to where he stood still holding your heels just outside of your closet.

"Well…" you started as you took them thoughtfully from his hand, "I could do a little performance for you now, if you wanted."

You stared up at him through your lashes, making a show of it how you would have back when you danced. His eyes flickered down to your lips as he pretended to be thoughtful for a moment, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to hollow out his cheeks. But he couldn't keep a straight face for long before the rosy tint warmed his cheeks and his lips spread into a smile.

"You read my mind," he said with a hint of a giggle behind his voice that was always so endearing.

You moved a chair into the bedroom, setting it at the foot of the bed where you instructed Josh to shed a few layers of his clothes.

"I thought you'd be the one not wearing any clothes," he joked as his fingers worked his pants and shirt off, leaving him in nothing but his tight-fitting briefs.

"Trust me, it'll feel better if you aren't wearing clothes." You gave him a cheeky smile before heading to the door of your closet. "I'm gonna go change real quick. Be good."

From your phone, you connected to your speaker to play music as you changed into one of the more forgotten pieces of lingerie you owned along with the tall heels, a nightmare to get into but quite a look if you were being honest. When you returned, his eyes went wide the moment you stepped into view. In addition to the heels, you'd donned a black number, all one piece. It was a thong crisscrossing over your pelvis in the front with straps connecting at the navel and plunging upward with thin sheer patches of material acting like cups of a bra and thin straps pulled taught over your shoulders. Truthfully, when you wore it, the material got lost in a sea of plush skin that hugged it well. And Josh looked as though he had never appreciated a view more.

"Holy shit," he breathed in a rare moment of speechlessness.

"Like what you see?" You teased him with a smile as you tried to ignore the fact that your nerves were mounting. You were never nervous dancing at the club but you didn't care about those guys. Josh you did care about. Josh you wanted to impress.

"I've never seen anything more perfect." His eyes never raised from your body. He seemed practically hypnotized by you, even before you'd begun your dance. It brought a blush to your face as you met him where he sat and turned the music up quickly before tossing your phone onto the bed. And in the dim light, you threw your leg over his lap and moved to straddle him, his hands meeting your thighs instantly.

"There's just one rule," you said softly as you took his chin in your hand and forced his attention up toward your face.

He only gave you a fervent nod, looking as if he were willing to do absolutely anything you asked of him.

"No touching," you said in a whisper with a wicked smile adorning your lips.

"No touching?" He sounded upset when he repeated the question to you, grumbling when you nodded in answer but pulling his hands away nonetheless.

"But I'll make it up to you if you're good," you said as you raised off of his lap, his eyes still wide as they stared up at you.

"I can be good for you," he promised in a mere breath as his ability to form intelligent thought began to fail him.

You began your dance the way you usually did, turning in front of him and letting your ass graze along his lap as your hands slowly worked up into your hair. As your hips swayed gently, you felt his erection growing more prominent in his briefs.

You moved to the sultry beat of the song, turning occasionally to find him staring intently, mesmerized really, pupils blown wide with lust the longer he watched. You wouldn't have been surprised if you turned and saw him drooling, honestly, and it strengthened your confidence to see him watch you that way, hardly even blinking but tilting his head occasionally to get a better view when you bent over in front of him.

You made a show of it when you did, reaching to the floor slowly as you shook your ass in front of him until you were lying fully in front of him with your ass still raised in the air, chest pressed into the ground to give him a good view of the thin material of your thong stretching across your skin. The sight alone seemed to draw a light curse from his lips that brought a pleased smile to your face.

You stayed there only a moment before you pushed your torso back upward to bounce on the balls of your feet with your thighs spread, giving him a good view of your ass jiggling. But as you raised your body, you felt the familiar warmth of his fingertips as they reached for you instinctively. He wasn't much of a visual creature, after all, though he did appreciate the view. But he had always learned best with his hands.

You turned to scold him, giving him a 'tsk' with your tongue as you took his wrists in your hands and returned to his lap, pulling his hands down below the seat of the chair and pinning them there amongst the rungs holding the legs together.

"No touching, Joshy, or the fun stops."

"Agonizing," was all he whispered, still mesmerized and sounding like he wanted to whimper and whine and press the matter, even as his hands gave in to your authority.

"I know but you're doing so well for me, so nice and hard and showing me exactly how much you like it," you said in the sultriest voice you could manage as you grinded gently along his lap, only a hint of a giggle in your voice as you praised him.

It earned a low, "Fuck," from his lips as you worked over him, swaying back and forth to the song and letting your hips guide your movements.

Turning again, you faced away from him and leaned forward, letting your ass fully press into his erection and feeling just how painfully hard he was.

"Shit, you are so fucking talented," he hissed at the contact.

"So eloquent," you giggled back.

"Go easy on me; there isn't exactly any blood going to my head at the moment."

"Oh, I can tell," you teased as you turned back around in his lap, just before sliding off and dropping to your knees in front of him.

Kneeling before him, you let your hands run up his bare thighs to play gently with the hem of his briefs before pushing his knees apart to spread his legs. You let your body roll up in the space between his legs, brushing your breasts close to his erection as you went and letting your nose guide his chin upward until you had fully climbed back into his lap. With his head tilted back as you hovered over him, you pressed your body against him.

"Fuck," he breathed in that voice that you could never get enough of, the one he used when he had just gotten off stage, painfully hard in his jumpsuit and dragging you to your knees to relieve him as he brushed the hair out of your face.

But now he didn't get to touch and you could tell it was starting to get to him as he finally dipped his hand between your bodies into his waistband to stroke along his painfully hard length.

"Did you dance this good for everyone?" he asked, his eyes still trained up toward yours as his hand worked over himself.

You ran your thumb sweetly over his cheek, not bothering to reprimand him for touching himself seeing as it wasn't technically breaking your rule, and gave him a soft smile as you leaned in to whisper into his ear. "No, I'm making it feel extra good just for you."

Leaning back, you watched as his muscles strained and tightened and his Adam's apple bobbed in his neck as he fought the urge to put his hands on your body, gulping down his lust in order to focus on the movements of his fist around his cock. He hummed as your hands ran over his biceps and down along the straining tendons in his forearm as it flexed with his motions. He was savoring and enjoying it, clearly, but his jaw still clenched tight as his hand picked up its pace beneath the thin material that still covered him.

"Do you feel good, Joshy?" you asked. Of course, you knew the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it anyway.

"So fucking good," he whispered with his eyes clamping shut as he stroked his cock harder.

Standing from his lap to continue your dance, you watched his eyes flutter open as you played with the straps of your lingerie sitting on your shoulders, making a show of pulling at the elastic to tease him with the extra skin. You wiggled your hips to the music, fiddling with the straps in the same rhythm as he watched intently with his fist still wrapped around himself, giving himself long, languid strokes. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched the tease, his brows furrowing in concentration the longer it went on until you finally pushed the thin stripes of material away from your breast to bare your chest to him. With your chest finally free, you leaned forward, resting your hands on the arms of the chair on either side of him to give him a better show of your skin, earning a groan from deep within his chest as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch.

You dropped to your knees in front of him again to put on the same display of the little material that covered your pussy. You sat on your heels and leaned your torso back onto the ground behind you, letting your back arch with one hand stabilizing you on the ground as the other ran over your clothed pussy, eliciting another desperate moan from Josh.

When you raised your body back up, his face was redder than it was before. He was watching you intently with his cock half pulled out of his briefs and leaking pre-cum over his fist that was now moving at a much faster pace than before. And you recognized the expression he wore. It was one you'd seen many times over, the one he wore when he was teetering over the edge, staring his orgasm in the face. It was a fucking beautiful sight, one that never failed to render you speechless. But now, with the fun being so close to ruined at his own hand, you didn't hesitate to speak up.

"Stop," you demanded as you stood to your feet, and he let out a sound of pathetic frustration as his hand reluctantly slowed to a halt.

You gave him only a mean laugh as you dropped into a squat once more, only this time to push his legs apart and hook your finger into the waistband of his briefs, snapping the material lightly against his skin and catching the head of his cock.

"Oh fuck!" He jerked instinctively, his eyes flying open and dropping down to where your finger traced a line down the underside of his cock, now sitting prominently against his abdomen.

"Oops," you feigned pity with a smile lingering closely behind, beginning to become mesmerized yourself in the way he looked itching to be touched even just a little bit more than you allowed.

"You little tease," he hissed without pulling his eyes away from that lazy finger that reach the base of his shift and twirled back up toward the head where it poked out of his waistband, angry and red and swollen.

"That is the idea," you smirked as you dropped your eyes to watch your own movements and the way he twitched beneath them.

It seemed an agonizingly long moment before his hand finally sprang from its hold against the rungs of the chair to grip your wrist tightly, keeping your finger where it rested against him. His eyes looked desperate when he turned them up toward you, like he was pleading with you to be nice, to give in.

"I need more," he practically whimpered.

Josh was breathtaking when he was in need, utterly mouthwatering. Really, you wanted nothing more than to ride him into oblivion right then and there. You could feel the moisture between your legs already threatening to soak through what little material covered you at just the thought. But Josh was also fun to tease and you weren't sure you were quite through with your fun.

You gave him a thoughtful look, resting the forefinger of your free hand against your chin as you pretended to be lost in thought before finally dropping it and giving him a simple, "No".

He gripped your wrist a little harder then, only a glimpse of his strength and something that never failed to turn you on, as little as you saw that side of him.

"Please mama, I'll be so good for you. So fucking good for you, I swear," he begged, his eyes turned up to you like you were his God, there only to be worshipped by him.

Pulling your wrist from his grasp, you moved your hands to cradle his face softly.

"You want to feel my pussy?" you asked, a hint of condescension in your voice that only seemed to make him twitch harder against his stomach.

"Yes, please, I need to feel you. Need to feel how wet and tight you are."

"Yeah? Does your cock ache for me?"

"Fucking always, you have no idea. I belong inside of you. Goddamnit, I belong to you."

He looked painfully hard, practically throbbing with need, a perfect seat for you as you nestled your body snugly against him. His cock fit perfectly between your legs and your breasts practically pushed into his face, you began to grind up and down his length and his reaction was immediate, his eyes rolling back and his head falling backward against the chair.

"But I'm not finished with my dance, pretty boy," you whispered against the shell of his ear as you continued your torment, beginning to torment yourself now too.

He only groaned out something unintelligible as his eyes squeezed shut and his hands flew up to your hips to work you into a faster grind. But again, you found his wrists in your palms and pushed them back down to his sides where they once again found the rungs of the chair.

"I didn't say you could touch yet," you reprimanded him before pulling the material of your panties to the side to let your wet center glide easily along his length, still half shrouded in his underwear.

"Oh fuck, mama, that feels good," he exclaimed in a breathy sigh.

He was missing the sight of your pussy leaving a wet trail of arousal along his cock, turning the material of his briefs transparent enough that you could see it throb angrily out of sheer want. But the sight of him was even better, his head thrown back to showcase his neck, red and straining, the veins along the side protruding and pulsing as his muscles tensed harder. Actually, he looked like he was about to cum with barely any touch at all and it plastered a wicked smile onto your face.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're about to cum," you sighed in the sweetest voice you could manage.

But Josh stayed silent, shaking his head fervently as his knuckles turned white and the muscles in his arms flexed.

"No? You're not gonna cum from my pussy sliding up and down your hard fucking cock? Getting it all nice and wet for you?"

"Shit-that's not fair," he groaned, using all of his strength to lift his head and look at you.

When he did, you saw the glazed look in his eyes, a half-gone look that almost made you feel sorry for not taking him into your cunt right then and there.

"I know, I just can't help myself. Been such a good boy," you mumbled as you dipped down to lick the sheen of sweat coating his neck all the way up to his chin and earning a whimper from him.

"Oh, you like that? You like when I call you a good boy?"

"Fuck, yes, I love it."

"Can you be my good boy and cum for me? Right under my lap?"

There was a look of desperation in his eyes as you leaned back and picked up your movements, like he was trying desperately to stop himself. But it was no use.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chanted and with the string of expletives on his lips, he exploded onto his abdomen.

"So fucking beautiful when you come," you mused as you slowly brought your grinding to a halt when his pleasure began to turn into sensitivity.

Without missing a beat, you lifted off his lap and dropped to your knees between his legs, much to his confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly as he stared down at you.

"I'm cleaning up your mess, pretty boy," you smiled.

You ran your fingertip lightly over the head of his cock, admiring the way his whole body practically twitched at even the slightest stimulation. You couldn't help but giggle lightly before leaning in to lick the cum off his head and abdomen.

"Oh fuck," he sighed as he threw his head back again at the feeling of your tongue grazing along the head of his cock and collecting his release.

"You taste so good," you breathed before finally pulling the hem of his underwear down to free him and take his head into your mouth to suck gently on it, making sure to get every last drop.

His muscles went taught immediately, his feet and thighs moving against the now stark overstimulation. He struggled to keep his hips still as he writhed beneath you, unsure if he was allowed to use his hands yet.

"Shit, it's too-too much, mama, too much," he whimpered with his hands raised next to his head, ready to dive into your hair.

You pulled your lips off of him with a hard pop and stared up at him with a wet face.

"Oh come on, you can give me a little more, can't you Joshy? Just a little more for me?"

He sucked his lip between his teeth and after a moment of thought, finally gave you a nod that brought a smile to your face before you dove in again. You took him further into your mouth to taste his salty sweet skin before swirling your tongue around the head, making him buck his hips up as his hand flew to your hair. He seemed unable to decide whether to push you further down onto his cock or pull you away to get some relief. But it did neither, just folded into your hair as he let you work up into a nasty rhythm. His hips struggled with the same dilemma, alternating between fucking up into your mouth to chase the feeling and withdrawing to escape the sensation that began to dull everything else in his body as it turned almost painful.

The sounds he made above you were like nothing you'd ever heard. It was a mix between moans and whines and whimpers as he fought the feeling of whatever was building within him, but then all at once, his grip on your hair tightened and pushed you down onto his length fully as he released down the back of your throat. His voice rising in volume as he let out a sharp curse, you felt his tip nudging the back of your throat as he rode out his high.

"S-shit, yes, that-fuck-that feels so fucking-" He was out of energy before he could even finish his sentence, collapsing back onto the chair as you pulled off of him with a hard suction.

When your lips passed his head, you made sure to suck good and hard one final time. It seemed you might even suck his soul from his body, too, the way he writhed and whimpered at the feeling, hands grabbing the sides of the seat before you treated fully and left him a gasping mess. Sweat matted his curls to his forehead and with a swipe of his hand as his chest heaved up and down, he slicked them back with the palm of his hand and an exhausted smile at his lips, ready to tinge it up into an almost cock afterglow that he wore so fucking well.

"Fuck, that was-" he started, unable to finish as he fought to regain his breath.

"I know, baby, you did so good for me," you smiled at him feeling completely and utterly satisfied. Well, other than the ache between your legs that seemed to only be fueled by the way he looked with his hair pushed back and his forehead and neck and chest dripping in sweat.

And thankfully, his exhaustion only seemed to last a mere moment before his hands instinctively reached for your body again and pulled you back onto his lap.

"I want to taste you," he whispered, the tinge of desperation gone but replaced by desire to make you cum just as hard as you had made him.

"Yeah?" you questioned, uncertain he even had the energy but hoping you'd get to find out.

"Please, more than anything. Let me show you how good I can be for you with my tongue."

He still had that look like he wanted to worship you, but much more focused. Almost dangerous, really. He looked like he knew how badly you wanted him and like he was ready to do something about it.

You gave him another faux thoughtful look in hopes it would urge on more begging from the beautiful boy sitting beneath you. He was so good at it, after all.

"I can tell how wet you are," he said, playing into your wants like he was reading your mind. He reached one hand down to run his fingers along your slit, stopping at the bundle of nerves at the helm to tease it gently with the pads of his fingers. "Please let me taste it. You deserve to feel good, you deserved to be fucked by my tongue."

It only took a fervent nod before he was picking you up in his arms and turning to plop you down onto the edge of the bed behind him. Even faster, it seemed, he was dropping to his knees before you like in prayer and pulling the crotch of your lingerie further to the side to expose your delicious cunt to himself.

"I could spend the rest of my life just buried between your legs, teasing and tasting this needy little clit," he breathed, his breath hot against your thighs as he placed gentle kisses along your skin, all while his eyes stayed fixed to yours.

You propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch as he kissed his way to your center where he used his tongue to push through your folds and prod into you, letting it sink into you so he could taste you. His eyes rolled back at just the taste and you felt your own roll at the feeling as your head dropped back to welcome the sudden pleasure flowing through your body.

He was right, you were wet, because when he withdrew his tongue, his face already glistened. But he didn't stay retreated; immediately he liked one long stripe up your slit, letting his tongue land and focus on your clit as he spread your moisture and his own saliva around with an ungodly wet noise that filled the air.

When you lifted your head to watch his movements, you were greeted with his eyes, fixed and unrelenting on yours as he worked. He sucked your clit into his mouth, creating a tight suction around it as he pulsed his lips and flicked against it with his tongue. It felt sloppy and the sounds that echoed around the room were immoral but they only served to push you closer and closer to the edge, threatening to spill over right there in his mouth.

He worked you diligently, almost to the point of overstimulation before you'd even cum, his attention to your clit unrelenting even as his fingers prodded your hole, teasing the outer rim before dipping in fully only to go back to teasing again. He brought you close fast as he curled his fingers up into you, finally letting them push and pull and curl the way you wanted to and fucking them into you nice and fast as his tongue still worked at your clit, lapping at it just right.

You were close. You were right there. Your hips bucked up into his mouth, pressing your clit harder against his tongue as you writhed, searching for the friction you needed.

"Oh fuck, Josh, yes, I'm right there!"

Your eyes fixated on him as he unwound you, making you cum hard against his mouth and tongue, all over his fingers as they slicked even easier through their rhythm of fucking into you to guide you through it a bit more gently than you had for him. And finally he was retreating his mouth altogether and pulling your legs up around his hips to push you further up the bed where he collapsed next to you.

"All this time and I never even knew," he whispered despite the content smile resting on his face.

"I'm sorry. I never know how to bring it up, especially when everyone else that I've brought it up to was so judgemental about it," you admitted.

To your surprise, he laughed and shook his head.

"They were all fucking idiots if they didn't want that."

You chuckled back, slowly at first before you both fell into a fit of giggles together.

"Yeah, I suppose I was good at my job, huh?" you teased.

"Employee of the fucking year, mama," he smiled back before launching an attack of kisses on the side of your face as you squealed for mercy.

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