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joelmillerisapunk · 10 months ago

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Late night devil put your hands on me

Sugardaddy!Joel Miller x F!reader

Masterlist ☆ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,139

Warnings: 18+, male oral receiving, reader is blindfolded, unprotected p in v. I can not ruin the rest, but there's nothing triggering. If I did miss anything, please lemme know 🥰

Summary: Your sugar daddy treats you to a surprise trip, gifting you with three sensory delights: one for touch, one for smell, and one for taste.

Notes: I hope you enjoy your first trip sugar babies

You've been chatting with Joel for the past week or so, getting to know each other and exploring a mutual attraction. It's been exciting and a little nerve-wracking, but you're enjoying the rush of new emotions that come along with having a sugar daddy.

So, when Joel calls you up unexpectedly and asks if you want to go on an overnight trip, you're caught off guard. "Tonight?" You say, looking up from your desk where you're working on a graphic design project for a client. "But that's so soon."

"I thought the terms of our agreement were clear," Joel says, his voice low and commanding. "Spontaneity is key, and I’m already down here, waiting."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, enjoying the rush of this commitment. "Okay," you say, a little cautiously, knowing you're going to be cutting the deadline close. "I'll go pack a bag."

You quickly gather some clothes and toiletries, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation. When you're ready, you head outside to meet Joel.

He's waiting for you by his car, blindfold in hand. "Just trust me," he says, as he gently ties the soft fabric around your eyes, heightening your sense of anticipation and your senses in general.

You feel the cool night air against your skin as Joel leads you to his car, helping you climb into the passenger seat. You hear the trunk of the car close, your luggage now secure. The engine roars to life, and you brace yourself for the familiar sensation of the car pulling away from the curb. As he drives, you feel the smoothness of the leather seats and the gentle hum of the engine. The drive is a blur of twists and turns. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires and the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind blows lulls you into a state of excited curiosity. You feel Joel's hand on yours, gently holding it as he navigates the roads.

After what feels like hours of driving, Joel brings the car to a gentle halt. He steps out, and you can hear the faint rustle of leaves as he moves around the car to open your door. Gently, he guides you out of the car, taking your hand in his. The air is crisp and clean, filling your lungs with the scent of pine and earth.

As Joel leads you forward, you can feel the ground beneath your feet change from smooth pavement to a softer, uneven terrain. Your senses are heightened, and you can hear the distant sound of a babbling brook and the hoot of an owl echoing through what you can only assume is a forest.

Finally, just as you're about to question yourself for letting a man you barely know willingly take you to the woods, Joel removes the blindfold, and you gasp at the breathtaking view that greets you.

The moonlit sky stretches out above you, a tapestry of stars twinkling like diamonds against the inky blackness. Below, the mountains loom, majestic and timeless, their snow-capped peaks kissed by the silvery moonlight. The world seems to stretch out before you, a canvas of endless possibilities, and you can't help but feel your heart swell in awe at the beauty of it all.

"Wow," you breathe, taking in the snow-capped mountains and the endless expanse of stars overhead.

Joel smiles. "I'm glad you like it, but there's something else I want to show you.” He takes your hand and leads you towards a cozy cabin nestled in the heart of the forest. As you approach, you can see the warm glow of lamplight spilling out from the windows, casting shadows on the ground.

Joel opens the door, and you step inside. The cabin is breathtaking, with soaring ceilings and exposed wood beams. The walls are adorned with vintage skis and snowshoes. In the center of the room, there's a large stone fireplace, the logs crackling and popping as they burn. The scent of burning wood fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon.

"This is amazing. How did you do all of this?" You say, your voice filled with awe.

"I thought you might enjoy it here," Joel replies, his voice low and husky. "Now, come with me." He completely ignores your question, leaving you with more questions than answers.

He takes your hand and leads you towards the bedroom. The room is dimly lit. In the center, there's a large four-poster bed adorned with plush velvet blankets and rose petals. A bottle of wine and two glasses sit on the bedside table, along with a selection of chocolates and fruit.

"This is...incredible," you say, your heart racing with excitement.

"I wanted to make this night special for you," Joel says, his eyes dark with desire. He takes your hand and leads you towards the bed, where you take a seat. “Close your eyes and put out your hands, I have a surprise for you."

You do as you're told, and then you feel the weight of a small box being placed in your palms. “Okay, open.”

You look at Joel for a moment before taking in the beautifully decorated box. You're feeling a little nervous, but ultimately, your excitement outweighs it, and you dig into the box, opening it to see an extravagant gift - a delicate gold necklace adorned with more diamonds than you knew could fit on such a delicate necklace. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and you can't believe that it's yours.

“Joel, this is - it's beautiful. I don't know what to say.” You smile in awe, staring at the necklace.”

“May I?” He gestures to the necklace.

You nod eagerly, handing Joel the delicate necklace.

Joel carefully takes the necklace out of the box, holding it up to the moonlight to admire its beauty. He then turns to you, his eyes filled with desire and longing. He steps closer, his body just inches away from yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

His fingers gently brush against your skin as he reaches around to clasp the necklace. His touch is soft, yet firm, and you can't help but shiver with anticipation. His hands linger for a moment, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck before he finally clasps the necklace.

You can feel the weight of the necklace against your skin, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Joel's touch. He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving yours as he admires his handiwork.

The necklace sparkles in the moonlight, the diamonds catching the light and casting rainbows across your skin. Joel reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against it, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

His touch is intimate, and you can feel the desire building between you. His eyes are dark, filled with want, and you can't help but lean in closer to him.

Joel's hands are strong and sure as they move to your shoulders, his thumbs gently tracing circles on your skin. His touch is intoxicating, and you find yourself leaning into him, your body molding to his.

"Your next gift," he says, his voice low and husky, "this one is a little different. Close your eyes."

You do as you're told again. You can't believe this is even happening. How many gifts does he have for you? You feel Joel's hands leave your shoulders, and you can hear the rustle of fabric as he grabs it from a bag.

"Okay, open."

You open your eyes to see Joel holding a small, velvet box. You recognize it as the kind that perfume comes in, and your heart skips a beat with excitement.

This is a very special perfume," Joel says, his eyes dark with desire. "It's made with exotic ingredients, and it's said to drive people wild with desire. I want you to try it."

He opens the box, and you can smell the intoxicating scent of the perfume even from where you're standing. It's a rich, musky scent, and you can feel it already starting to affect you.

"Here, let me put it on for you."

Joel takes the perfume bottle and sprays a little on your wrist. You can feel the cool liquid on your skin, and then the heat as it dries. The scent is intoxicating, and you can feel yourself getting lost in it.

"Now, there's one more gift I want to give you," Joel says, his eyes dark with desire. "But this one is a little more... personal. How ‘bout you sit on the bed for this baby.” He takes your hand, guiding you to the edge of the bed. “Close your eyes.”

You do as you're told once more, and then you hear more rustling and zipping, and then you can feel Joel's hand under chin. “You've had a gift for touch, a gift for smell, now a gift for taste. Open your mouth.” He orders and places his thumb on your bottom lip, gently guiding it open.

“Good girl, now, stick out your tongue.” Joel's voice is low and husky as he speaks, sending shivers down your spine. You stick out your tongue and feel the weight of his expectations. You hear him shift closer to you, and then you feel the tip of his cock brush against your tongue.

You gasp in surprise, but Joel's hand is there to steady you, guiding you as you take him into your mouth. He's large and hard, and you can feel the heat of him against your tongue. You wrap your lips around him, feeling the soft skin of his shaft against your mouth.

Joel moans softly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he begins to move his hips. You follow his lead, your mouth moving up and down as you explore him with your tongue. You can taste the saltiness of his skin, the musky taste of his arousal.

Joel's thrusts start to become more urgent, his hips moving faster as he fucks your mouth. You can feel the tension building in his body. The muscles in his thighs are tensing as he gets closer to climax. Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock glistening with your saliva. He looks at you with a dark, hungry gaze, his eyes flashing with desire.

Before you can react, he reaches for the necklace, his fingers wrapping around the delicate chain. With a swift, brutal motion, he rips it off your neck, the clasp digging into your skin as he tears it away.

You gasp in surprise, your hand instinctively going to your throat to protect it. But Joel is beyond reason, beyond control. He's consumed by his desire, his need to possess you, to claim you as his own, his need for human connection.

He throws the necklace aside, the diamonds scattering across the floor like stars in the night sky. His hands are on you again, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushes you back onto the bed. Before you can think he's swiftly removing your clothes and his, and then you can feel the weight of him on top of you, as he climbs onto the bed like a wild animal on the hunt, you can feel the intense heat of his body as he covers you. His cock is hard and eager, probing at your entrance. You're wet and ready for him, your body aching with need.

With a thrust, he's inside you, filling you up. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move. He fucks you with a raw, primal need that you've never experienced before, his hips slamming into yours as he drives himself deeper and deeper. You can feel the pleasure spiraling higher and higher.

Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into you with the fierce, desperate need of someone longing for any kind of connection. You can feel the bed shaking beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucks you with a primal intensity.

"You like that, don't you?" he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "You like feeling me inside you, filling you up?"

You can only moan in response, your body trembling with pleasure as he drives you higher and higher. His words only serve to fuel your desire, to make you want him more.

"Tell me you want it," he commands, his fingers digging into your hips. "Tell me you want me to fuck you harder."

"Yes," you gasp, your voice hoarse with pleasure. "Harder, please.”

And with those words, Joel loses control. he drives himself deeper. You can feel the spiraling higher and higher until it threatens to consume you. "Come for me," Joel growls, his fingers digging harder into your skin. "Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come apart beneath me."

And with those words, you do. You come harder than you ever have before, your body trembling with pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. And with a final, brutal thrust, Joel comes alongside you, his cock pulsing deep inside your belly. You can feel the warmth of his release, the way it fills you up and completes you.

For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of your breathing, the feel of your bodies entwined. And then, with a gentle kiss, Joel pulls out, his eyes filled with a soft, tender love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck. "I'll buy you a new one, but I want you to remember this moment - the way I made you feel the way you came apart for me. The way you belong to me."

You nod, your heart still racing from the intensity of your orgasm. Joel reaches down and picks up the broken necklace, his fingers brushing against the shattered gold.

"I'll make sure to get you something even more beautiful this time," he says, his voice full of promise.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #sugardaddy!joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller x you

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gentlekalita · 5 months ago

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Painless BDSM Ideas

Today, I’m excited to share some painless BDSM ideas that can enhance your experience without the sting, ensuring you feel adored while still indulging in the thrilling dynamics of power exchange.

BDSM doesn't have to be synonymous with pain. In fact, there are countless ways to explore dominance and submission that focus on pleasure, intimacy, and consent. Whether you’re new to the scene or an experienced player looking to switch things up, these ideas can provide a sensual and enjoyable experience, embracing the softer side of BDSM.

1. Sensory Play

One of the most exciting ways to explore BDSM is through sensory play. This involves heightening or dulling the senses to create unique experiences on your body. Here are a few ideas:

Blindfolding: By blindfolding your partner, you can heighten their other senses. They won’t see what’s coming next, leaving them to focus entirely on touch, sound, and smell. Use soft fabrics to cover their eyes, creating an intimate atmosphere filled with anticipation.

Temperature Play: Introduce sensations of warmth and coolness to create intense feelings of pleasure. Try using ice cubes, chilled objects, or warm oils during massages. The contrast can be thrilling and invigorating without any associated pain.

Feathers and Soft Fabrics: Incorporate feathers or soft fabrics to tease and explore your partner's body. The gentle sensations can lead to a delightful build-up of arousal without any discomfort.

2. Bondage with a Twist

Bondage doesn’t have to mean restrictive ties or painful restraints. Here are some gentle bondage ideas to try:

Silk Scarves or Ropes: Use soft silk scarves or gentle ropes to tie wrists and ankles. This can be more comfortable than traditional restraints and can still give a sense of submission without tightness.

Lightly-Laced Cuffs: Consider using cuffs made from plush materials. These are designed for comfort while still providing that feeling of being held and controlled.

Furniture Bondage: Use household items like chairs or the bed to gently restrain a partner without any pain. Laying them down or binding them to a chair with soft restraints can create a relaxing yet exciting encounter.

3. Role Play Without Rules

Role play is a fantastic way to enter the BDSM world without needing to delve into the more intense aspects. Here are some playful scenarios to explore:

Teacher and Student: Play out a scenario where one person is a strict teacher and the other a willing student. This dynamic focuses on playful dominance and can involve lots of teasing and gentle authority.

Boss and Employee: Engage in the thrilling power dynamics of a workplace scenario. This can add excitement without requiring any actual dominance or submission that might lead to discomfort.

Fantasy Characters: Embrace the idea of being characters from your favorite stories or movies. This can foster a playful spirit while allowing you to explore the dynamics inherent in your characters.

4. Soft Teasing and Often Praise

Encouragement and positive reinforcement play wonderfully into a gentle BDSM experience. Use verbal teasing and praise to create a nurturing atmosphere. Here’s how:

Use Tender Words: Throughout your session, whisper sweet affirmations of your partner’s performance or how much you enjoy their submission. Words like “good boy/girl” or “you’re doing so well” can build confidence and pleasure.

Soft Physical Touches: Gently caress their skin while invoking feelings of warmth and trust. This can include kisses, light touches, or gentle pinching in playful ways that induce laughter rather than discomfort.

Guided Instructions: Gently instruct your partner on what to do, using kind and loving language. This could be as simple as directing them to touch themselves or encouraging them to explore your body while they maintain their submission.

5. Aftercare is Essential

Don’t forget the vital aspect of aftercare! After a gentle BDSM session, nurturing your partner is crucial to ensure both emotional and physical well-being. Here are some ideas:

Cuddling: Spend time cuddled up together, letting warmth and affection flow between you. This can help solidify the bond you’ve created during play.

Hydration and Snacks: Offer refreshments and light snacks to bring energy back. This simple act can feel very comforting.

Talk It Out: Engage in heartfelt conversations about what you both loved about the experience, addressing any concerns and reinforcing the safety and trust within your relationship.

Join Me for More Sensual Exploration!

Are you curious to deep dive into the world of painless BDSM and explore your desires further? I would love for you to join me in my live camming sessions, where we can discuss these themes in real-time, delve deeper into power dynamics, and create safe spaces for exploration together. Check my bio!

#gentle domination #female led relationship #gentle fdom #gentle d0m #goodboy #good boy #soft fem dom #dom mommy #femdxm #bd/sm kink

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doumadono · 1 year ago

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MASTERLIST

A - aftercare

Alright, you won't be left completely empty-handed, but don't expect an abundance. Katsuki will undoubtedly attend to your needs, embrace you in his arms, and take care of the essentials. However, shortly after sex, he tends to drift off into a peaceful slumber, so you have up to 10-15 minutes to capture his undivided attention

B - body part

Katsuki is particularly an ass/thighs, however his passion knows no bounds, and he could devote hours to exploring every inch of your body. The way your hips gently curve, the subtle contours of your breasts - it all drives him wild

C - cum

He has an oral fixation and enjoys doing so on or in your mouth. If he's not planning to cum on your face, he'll opt for cumming in you, inserting his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on them while he does so

D - dirty secret

He secretly enjoys being the one ridden, reveling in the sight of you on full display from all angles as you bounce rhythmically on his cock. He can easily grip your waist, guiding your movements, relishing in watching you take him in almost to the hilt. Moreover, he takes pleasure in caressing your thighs in circular motions or gently parting your ass cheeks to aid in maintaining a consistent rhythm on his throbbing dick

E - experience

He may come across as reserved, but I'd confidently say he possesses a respectable level of experience. Katsuki's well-versed in knowing how to navigate sex

F - favorite position

Bakugo never bothered with anything out of the ordinary, preferring to splay you across the bed on your back, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact from the beginning until your ultimate climax. Additionally, he has a penchant for the thrill of bending you over his desk

G - goofy

Katsuki remains consistently serious, with no playful banter between his tender words and his brutal treatment in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to fuck you, depending on his mood)

H - hair

He has a blonde happy trail that he grooms fairly often. His grooming routine is straightforward. He doesn't trim his hair extensively, but surprisingly, his hair isn't too difficult to maintain

I - intimacy

He may not fit the traditional image of romantic person, but he truly cherishes the moments you share. Bakugo likes to gaze into your eyes while he’s taking you rough, he also likes planting tender kisses on your hairline and jaw as he nears his climax

J - jack off

I'd say he doesn't engage in self-pleasure very often. He tends to conserve his energy for later, and the frequency of this varies based on his stress levels. However, when he does, he’s the classic shower jerk off guy - it's cleaner and quicker for him to reach climax that way. Interestingly, when he's under more stress, he tends to be more aggressive during these solo moments, whether you're present or not. Additionally, he's a fan of mutual masturbation as a form of foreplay

K - kinks

Marking - Katsuki has a passion for leaving his marks, whether they be hickeys or bruises, and he's not concerned about their visibility or quantity. He becomes so engrossed in the moment that he loses track of just how many he's left behind

Size - Bakugo's broad physique is something he relishes, as it gives him a sense of being your protector. Simultaneously, he takes pleasure in filling your much smaller frame so full of his cock to the point where it leaves you utterly entranced

Dirty talk - while not leaning towards overly degrading language, Katsuki enjoys using words like "dirty" or "sloppy" to heighten the excitement. He revels in hearing you beg for him, and he'll encourage you by asking if you like how deep he’s fucking you or if your tiny little hole can fit all of his cock inside. On occasion, he might playfully refer to you as his private "cockslut" or "cumdump" while fucking your brain out

Sensory deprivation - blindfolds? He's all in. Katsuki delights in observing your anticipation as you feel his teasing touches and tender kisses trace all over your body, heightening your senses

L - location

Katsuki's open to fucking you anywhere, but always with your consent. He typically aims for semi-public settings. However, it's worth noting that there are occasions when he's a bit more adventurous, like making you cockwarm him in the bathroom of a restaurant

M - motivation

His jealousy. Katsuki has zero tolerance for anyone daring to look at you. With a low, warning growl, he'd utter your name, "Y/N," in a deep, rumbling tone as you exchanged smiles with a stranger at the bar. Of course, your intentions were clear, using them as a means to an end to attain what you truly desired - your beloved, fierce boyfriend

N - no

Food play isn't really his thing. While he might consider it on occasion, it's not a major interest for him. Additionally, when it comes to sex, consent is paramount, and he strongly dislikes the notion of non-consensual roleplay, even with prior consent

O - oral

Katsuki's incredibly skilled with his mouth, thanks to his oral fixation. Going down on you feels natural to him, and he could continue indefinitely, even if his jaw starts to ache. When it's your turn to pleasure him, if you decide to surprise him while he's working - trust me, it's worth it. There are two reasons he loves it: firstly, it's a blowjob from his beloved significant other, and who wouldn't enjoy that? Secondly, it gives him a reason to return the favor. However, by "returning the favor," he means that he will indeed reciprocate but will tease you along the way by not immediately giving you what you desire. Perhaps he'll show mercy, but that depends on the day

P - pace

Bakugo can and will rail you. It starts off gently, but then everything goes downhill and he’s not holding back, like at all. If he senses any discomfort or if you're hurt in any way, he'll slow down or even pause to ensure your well-being

Q - quickie

He prefers to use them as a form of foreplay or to build anticipation until you're alone and he can fully indulge in his desires. However, there are moments when his overwhelming lust takes over, and he can't resist pulling you aside impulsively to satisfy his cravings without delay

R - risks

Katsuki is into semi-public sex for sure. He finds the most excitement in engaging in sex where he knows it's highly unlikely you'll get caught, but there's that tantalizing hint of a chance that adds to the thrill

S - stamina

Katsuki's sex drive. He wants to fuck with you everyday. The thought of waking up beside you and indulging in sex throughout the day is incredibly appealing to him. However, he understands your limitations, so he doesn't mind the occasional restraint, prioritizing your comfort and well-being

T - toys

Bakugo is not too fond of them - he prefers to get you off using his own body

U - unfair

Katsuki's a notorious tease, and how unfair he gets depends on his mood or your behavior. When he's in the mood to tease or if you've been a little naughty (or both), be prepared for him to withhold pleasure until you're driven to beg for it!

V - volume

At first, he suppresses his moans, opting for sharp, hissing inhales and expelling air from his mouth. However, as he approaches climax, he'll lean in close to your ear to spew absolute filth into it so that he can feel you clench around his cock and send him over the edge. Grunting is also a thing

W - wildcard

As indicated earlier, he just loves to keep going. Seriously, if given the chance, he could fuck for hours. Marathon sex is his forte, and he particularly relishes the state your body is in by the end – it only fuels his desire to continue

X - x-ray

He's around 7 ½ to 8 inches, and the noticeable thickness and prominent veins provide a significant sensation of stretch during sex

Y - yearning

Never lets on just how much he wants you. He would rather have you come to him instead so he doesn’t look that needy but he wants to be balls-deep in you practically all the time. I'll repeat it - his sex drive!

Z - zzz

As mentioned earlier, after 10-15 minutes, he's ready to drift off to sleep. We're all familiar with his sleeping habits though 🤣 Bakugo is also a clingy sleeper, so he'll naturally hold onto you and prefer you as his little spoon

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madschiavelique · 1 year ago

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˖𓍯. 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬. ★. ₊ ⭑

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x audhd!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : your family is an ordeal to endure, full of disparaging remarks that make for a horrible evening. fortunately, Matt and Frank come to keep you company during the family diner and take you home to look after you.

⟢﹒ content warnings : hurt/comfort, extremely self-indulgent, reader's family are degrading, audhd reader close to breaking down, reader having sensory issues, reader getting overstimulated, the guys in this are so lovable and sweet boyfriends, afab!reader, no use of Y/N

⟢﹒ word count : 9,3k

⟢﹒ note : had quite a shitty christmas ngl, so i thought writing this piece of comfort would be helpful ! if you only want to read the comfort part, i'll place a separation by using a black divider between the hurt and comfort part. a huge thank you to my bestie @sunflowersandsapphires who proofread this <3. have a good read lovelies!

You passed a q-tip close to your eyes in the hope of correcting the curve of your make-up, trying with that scatterbrained perfectionism that accompanied you in even the most minute tasks to ensure that everything was symmetrical.

Nothing too extravagant, just something elegant, neutral, but that would do. The standard was just to look presentable, from the face to the rest of the body. Jeans, an oversized hoodie, nothing special.

This lack of personal distinction was undoubtedly due to the rejection of perception, the insistent stares, the embarrassing compliments that could suddenly put you in the spotlight tonight, an idea that made you feel profoundly uneasy.

You stepped back a little, checking to see if the much-desired symmetry had been achieved, and no sooner had you put down your utensil than you were asked to do the little cousins' make-up.

Tonight was an annual family reunion: Christmas, where aunts, uncles, grandparents and grandchildren got together over foie gras, salmon and dubious discussions. Where guests who have just left are criticised, where disparaging remarks are exchanged, and where the meal always ends up drifting into politics with more or less heated debates at the table.

You anticipated the evening, an anxious knot already forming in your stomach. You had a particular link with your family, of which the affection was strangely displayed if at all in a way you despised entirely. Every year was a different pain, a different bitter taste that lingered in your thoughts like poison, and you were not delighted to participate in this celebration when you would’ve preferred staying home.

Only one thing held you in place and convinced you that the night wouldn't be a constant and unrelenting hell: Matt and Frank were coming over.

This winter, it was the first time you would’ve been accompanied by them, and by anyone in fact. Knowing the rather strong opinions of your family, the simple idea of saying that you shared your life with two men in a more than platonic way had been dismissed a long time ago. A trouple? If that fell in the ears of one of your family members, you could be sure that you'd become the next freak of the night.

So you talked it over with the boys and came up with a plan to make sure you could bring them both along and not make a big deal of it: one of them would pretend to be your boyfriend, while the other would just be your friend that had nothing better to do for the celebration.

The choice of boyfriend fell on Frank, and friend on Matt.

He had asked why, and you had explained that it was obviously in no way because of favouritism or anything of the sort, but rather the simple fact that he would get more compliments behind his back if he wasn't with you than if he was.

He'd frowned, but you'd had to explain to them how your family was sometimes built on clusters of shrill gossip, talking behind others' backs and later making remarks to their faces in tones of passive aggressiveness and wicked irony.

You also had to educate them, that no matter what was said about you tonight, not to react. They'd probably be itching to, it would be like a thread sticking out, but they were forbidden to pull on it.

You looked at the clock, seven past. You'd texted Frank to ask where they were and when they'd arrive. Eight thirty had been their reply, and you took a deep breath. An hour and a half to go.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, assuring yourself everything was alright and that you were presentable enough. You can do it, you kept telling yourself, this night knows an end.

The first complications arose sooner than you thought.

First of all, you'd managed to find a decent seat in an armchair and not on a sofa. However, this seat was very close to the fireplace, where a blazing fire licked the brown logs with appetite. Very close, too close, close enough that it felt suffocating.

You moved your chair back slightly as best you could, trying not to disturb the conversation that was already well underway.

You tried to take a few snacks, perhaps some cashews, crackers or cherry tomatoes might ease your boredom and distract you from the growing heat.

You pulled out your phone, hoping that Frank and Matt would get here sooner, and would've sent a message to that effect. Or perhaps was there a notification from any of your friends, a reel, a meme, anything-

"Put your phone away, we're with the family."

You looked up, your mother watching you and taking her glass in hand with a look of dissatisfaction. In a single instant, your cheeks heat up all the more as the fire in the fireplace presses against your skin, and you gulped.

"I just wanted to check if I had any news about Matt and Frank's drive," you explained simply, gently stuffing the phone into your pocket.

"They'll arrive when they arrive, but for now, be with us."

You nodded, discreetly biting your cheek as one of your only escapes for tonight went up in smoke. You would have much preferred to be able to escape a little and block out what was going on around you, even sorting out your gallery and deleting useless pictures would have been a more pleasant and less stressful activity.

But you couldn't, and you said nothing when it was your mother's turn to pick up her own phone and connect to the speaker to play her Christmas playlist.

The children played together, which should’ve been a joy, but their overexcited screams, incessant movements and all that noise were enough to make you feel the headache setting in.

There were easily three different conversations going on around you, and your mother turned up the music in response. You waved, putting your hand in front of you as if you were lazily dribbling an invisible ball to indicate her to lower the volume, and she turned the music down a notch.

You clenched your jaw, thinking to yourself that this was a good start, even if everything else was getting harder to hold on to.

Choosing to wear a hoodie became almost a regret as the ambient heat from the fireplace worked its way up your spine to the nape of your neck, creating an unpleasant feeling. Soon enough, you had to take it all off as the first signs of nausea began to make themselves felt.

You weren't particularly comfortable with the idea, but everyone's attention was obviously diverted enough to take no notice of your actions. Except perhaps for one.

"You could have made an effort on your outfit, it's not very festive." Your mother sighed before taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "Hadn't you lost weight? It would be a shame to spoil the occasion."

You swallowed, the ground looking awfully interesting at this very moment. You knew what would have been said to you if you'd worn something more in the spirit of it, "You've got a nice body, you should wear that more often," and other remarks falling into the famous "you should insert-disobliging-action more often" category.

You should wear that more often. You should smile more often. You should come more often. But none of these requests were of the taste to be fulfilled by you tonight.

So you simply shrugged, having nothing in particular to say, and feeling your heart clench. You were stuck in this contradictory place where if you made one move slightly changing from your usual self to them, you were reprimanded on it, but if you didn’t do anything in particular, they highlighted the fact that it was disappointing you hadn’t done anything.

"Well, we're delighted to have you with us tonight!" chuckled an uncle, raising his glass to you.

"It sure makes a change from knowing she's in her cave," chuckles an aunt.

You smile, but there's no warmth behind the gesture. By cave, they mean your bedroom. Your habit of isolating yourself had brought you a certain reputation within your family, and for years now it has been a recurring joke. They laughed about it every time, but you saw it more as a broken record replaying the same snippet of music... speaking of which, your mother turned up the sound again, thinking you wouldn't notice.

"Could you turn it down please? It's really loud." you ask politely, in the most calm, composed and polite tone you could produce at the moment.

"Oh come on," your mother grumbles, rolling her eyes, "we're allowed to have fun."

She turned up the volume once more, and finally someone other than you told her it was too loud. Reluctantly, she lowered the sound slightly, but it was still not enough for you. Your hands lodge over your ears, hoping with all your heart that this would ease the strain on your eardrums.

Conversations sought to drown out the music, each member pushing their voice for any discussion. Kids were still running around, chasing one another by screaming at each other, and adjusting your eyes on anything without the certainty of getting a headache felt like mission impossible.

Your hands on your ears helped slightly, and it was only then that your mother looked at you with a surprised expression.

"Does it really hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," you nodded, "it really does."

Finally, she turned it down, and you exhaled as the others resumed a more appropriate though still higher volume of discussion than you'd prefer. The kids had been changed of room, making it more bearable for you to live through.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" asks one of your grandparents, "how's work?"

Your cheeks heat up, the discussion now turned towards you, prompting you to take your glass in hand just to have something to quench your throat suddenly arid as the sahara.

"Very well, business is good." you smiled falsely, forcing your face to display the features they might normally expect to see.

"Great, and those two guests coming tonight, do you know them from work?"

How could you say that the circumstances in which you had met these two men were in a situation that included Frank and Matt falling into your flat, bloodied, and asking you for help?

Karen, who you’d known through college, had advised them of your address, and when the first opportunity came up, they had taken the chance to make the most exceptional introduction you'd ever had in your life : stumbling at your place with cuts all around

"In a way, yes," you replied, pressing your lips into a thin line.

"One of them's her boyfriend, and the other's a lawyer," your mother informed the others, who seemed delighted by your seemingly noble company.

It's a good thing the flames in the fireplace were dying down and that it wasn't so hot anymore, because both your cheeks felt like you were resting the back of your hand on hot embers. It was a never-ending embarrassment to have such behaviour around you, saying aloud everything regarding you without you consenting to any information to be given. Wherever ridiculous actions or the slightest subject that was even a little new and out of their boredom-inducing daily lives occurred, they swarmed.

Nevertheless, the conversation drifted away to your delight, and at the mention of your loves, you couldn't stop thinking about them. You would have liked to check the time, to see if they had any problems on the way that might have delayed them, but you knew that such conduct was likely to earn you an additional remark about the use of your telephone. After all, she could find openings as easily as water in a colander.

Just then, a dance song began to play which, objectively, had nothing to do with the Christmas spirit. So everyone stood up, moving the chairs to get more room, and you helped in this cacophony of moved furniture.

You stood to one side as everyone got to the centre of the room, their dance steps resembling a veritable collective epileptic seizure of which you had no desire to become another member.

You took the opportunity to take refuge in the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind you and sitting down on the toilet to take a deep breath. The after-effects of all these mixed sensations were beginning to make themselves known.

Your body was as taut as a bowstring, as if every muscle had contracted from a high fall, and it felt as if releasing all the tension would break you in thousands of small pieces. Your heart wasn't beating particularly fast, but it was beating hard, and you couldn't ignore it.

You took a deep breath, letting your head fall back as you closed your eyes. Your throat and chest were tight, so tight that you felt like crying right now. But you couldn't, it would be too noticeable once you got out of here, and you didn't want to give them the pleasure of having an extra subject to talk about at the end of the evening once you'd gone. It would do them too much honour, and you couldn't afford to give them any.

You were so tired, you couldn't take it any more, the fatigue coursing through your body like you'd run a marathon of shame. You breathed in again, feeling your previously tight chest slowly relax as your body was jolting a bit from the unease.

This wouldn't last forever. By the end of the evening, after dessert, you wouldn't be in this house surrounded by all these people, all these eyes, all these mouths, all this noise.

That's when your phone buzzed, and without missing a beat, you pulled it out of your pocket. On the screen was a single message from Frank that gave you tremendous reassurance:

We're here.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One last breath for courage and you stood up, opening the door of the bathroom. Without anyone noticing, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside into the cool of the night.

The sudden chill brought you unparalleled comfort, biting your cheeks hot with frustration and embarrassment. Perhaps the night would heal you, that its cool caress would apply its balm of softness to all that pressure and relieve you of your tension.

You turned your key ring to find the one for the gate a little further on, trying to walk and not sprint to it. Inserting the key almost frantically but controlling your excitement and relief at their presence, you opened the game.

And there they were, smiling at you.

"Evening sweetheart," Frank smiled when he saw you.

"Sorry we took so long," Matt apologised, pressing his lips together.

You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed you outside, closing the gate slightly so that you wouldn't be seen. You knew that even from here, your group of three could be seen as a pile of meat around which the vultures would circle, and you didn't want to risk being their next meal.

You hugged them both, relieved to have them close to you, and the suddenness and desperation in your gesture almost seemed to surprise them. They hugged you back, kissing your temple.

"Your cheeks are warm," Frank chuckled, pressing his face harder against yours, making you giggle.

"Is everything okay?" asked Matt, stroking your hair, "you're all tense."

Of course, Matt noticing every microscopic detail as usual, couldn't help but pick up on how stiff your body looked, and how the smell of stress covered your skin in the thinnest film. There was no point in lying to Matt, or pretending to divert the subject with Frank, so you sighed.

"Lots of noise, not much serenity," you replied, letting your head fall against the devil's chest.

You were trying to cherish all this a little more, because once you were back in the house, you and Matt wouldn't be able to touch each other again except perhaps to pass a plate across the table and let your fingers deliberately brush against each other.

They'd already been told by you what to expect, and even if they were prepared, they were sorry to find you like this.

"We won't stay here the whole night," Matt reassures as he wraps his arms around you, stroking your back. "Let's hope we get out of here before Frank goes so far as to take the silverware from the table and threaten anyone with the butter knife."

"You're ruining my fun, Red. Now I've got to find something more inventive," sighed the latter.

"Take the star at the top of the pine tree, it'll be sharp enough," you suggested, turning your head towards him, cheek still pressed against Matt's chest.

"See that, that's Christmas spirit," smiled Frank.

You loosened your embrace, Matt gently kissing your lips. He savoured the moment, and so did you, because this kind of proximity with him wasn't going to happen again for several hours.

"Ready?" asked Frank, letting his pointer finger form a hook to caress the skin of your cheek.

You looked at the lights further away from the house, hearing the music from here and already preparing in the second part of the night.

"Ready," you breathed in before reopening the gate and letting them through.

You felt your heart clench again, the unpleasant tingle of anxiety coursing through your veins in a fluid traffic that seemed impossible to dilute. You tried to breathe calmly, preparing yourself once again to face the suffocating interior of sounds, movements and remarks.

"Remember, if you need to take a break from all this and go outside, squeeze my hand three times, okay sweetheart ?" reminded Frank, placing his hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you swallowed, nodding softly as a tight little smile spread across your lips.

You'd agreed to pretend, in case things got desperate and you needed a break, that Frank was a smoker, and that you and Matt shared his ciggy break together.

All of this preparation had come from the fact your mother had passed an entire questioning about your boyfriend - or at least one of them - to prepare herself conventionally. You knew how she was, and such coaching with the guys was for the better.

Still, his hand on your back was reassuring, and made things easier to bear.

You opened the door, and everyone turned to you with a big "Ah" of satisfaction. Introductions were made as both took off their jackets. Frank remained friendly but guarded - as usual, typical Frank - and Matt seemed to bloom in this social environment like a freshly blossomed flower.

It didn't take long for most of your family to decide that they loved Matt. His well-timed humour, his natural charm, his eloquence, everything about him made him a man to be admired.

"Isn't there any way he could be your boyfriend instead?" said an aunt, approaching you as Matt and Frank continued to be introduced.

"He's way out of her league," sneered another, "they both are, actually."

You pressed your lips together, blowing falsely from your nose to feign amusement. You knew Matt could hear every little jab at you tonight, and if he was feeling any frustration, he was hiding it perfectly.

"Where did you get them? I want one too," said the first, making the other laugh.

"Might get the lawyer's phone number," she replied.

"Yours is very fine too," remarked the other, "how'd you manage to get him ?"

They both said these sentences as if their own husbands weren't in the room, and as if the possibility of you being in a relationship with one of them was a miracle, or just a huge stroke of luck.

"Through work," you replied mechanically and through clenched teeth before moving into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

You knew these sorts of remarks were to be brought up, on how you’d managed to surround yourself so well. Matt and Frank had long wondered how your confidence in yourself was so low, but maybe tonight would’ve been the perfect example as to why it was the case.

The transition to the table was almost seamless. Everyone sat down, the seating order meticulously adapted for everyone. Fortunately, you found yourself between Frank and Matt. You were inwardly grateful for the choice of decorations when you realised that the tablecloth was quite long, and that the reassuring hand Matt had just put on your thigh wouldn't be noticeable.

You breathed softly, the warmth of his hand anchoring you better in all of this and giving you something to focus on that was sweeter than any mean remarks.

Of course, with every new person around the table comes an interrogation to get to know them. Questions of all kinds followed for the boys, about their work, their activities, your aunts of course looking for answers as to how you and Frank had ended up together.

You'd worked it out and decided that Matt had introduced you to Frank and that, through your shared tastes in literature and other things, you'd ended up bonding.

"If books are the new way to getting to a man I've got some reading to do," joked one of the aunts, making the table laugh unanimously, "never thought you'd manage anything of the sort."

The pique directed at you made you feel as if you were swallowing a large ice cube with difficulty, but you covered your discomfort with an expert fake smile. Masking all that discomfort since the start of the evening was beginning to prove complicated, but you weren't going to use the smoking-break Joker just yet.

You could see in the corners of your eyes how Matt was wearing a stiff smile, and how Frank's jaw was tense. Gently reaching under the table, you took both their hands, turning to Frank with another smile that this time wasn't imbued with the polite mask you wore, but with sincerity.

"Let's just say I was lucky " to have found two such extraordinary people who fill my life with love on a daily basis, would you have finished.

You squeezed their hands, drawing small circles on their skins as they both smiled.

The starter was over, the main course continued as your stomach was refusing to let you eat anything, and the whole thing brought together discussions that made you uncomfortable to say the least. All sorts of unconscious or simply cruel racist, homophobic and even transphobic remarks were placed on the table.

You remained silent, not speaking particularly. You had no desire to take part in this kind of discussion, given how horrible the venom on each other's tongues was. You just hoped it would all be over soon, looking forward to going home with Frank and Matt.

The cousins were chatting away like fascists, one talking about Napoleon, and the old days being the best, while talking about the questionable politicians he was listening to on the radio.

The cheese arrived, and then came the little break just before dessert. They put on a film for the children, so that the adults could have a quiet chat without all the heckling.

Hearing the parents' arse jokes, you'd think they'd be fucking each other on the table if they thought it was funny. You could very well let your own sassy tongue out, say that if this aunt isn't listening to what's being said already it's because she's working out her next gossip, but you have to forgive her because she wouldn't be like this if her husband wasn't cheating on her, or maybe he's cheating on her because she's like this.

To tell the uncles that they're less likely to die from terrorism than from alcoholism, to tell one aunt to strap the kids up tight because her husband is going to be driving as if he had an autonomous car. And that you would’ve liked to finish by saying that no matter the smiles, the village fete, all it took was a small difference for everyone to see the real faces.

But you said nothing, keeping to yourself those comments that would only serve to fuel their hatred.

As Frank came up to grab another drink, your mother sat next to you on the sofa while the two boys came to be monopolised by aunts and uncles. A procession of rednecks near Frank discussing his familiarity with weapons and his military past, while the aunts were wiggling around Matt hoping to curry favour with the young lawyer.

"It's too hot in here," you murmured as you shifted a little from your mother, but she wasn't letting go and placed her head on your shoulder.

"But I want to be close to you," she said with a pout, the alcohol making her visibly affectionate.

You tensed, the desire to get away from it all running through your body, screaming under your skin. But there was nothing you could do, frozen there in the middle of it all, having to endure the situation as best you could.

The familial conversation drifted onto the subject of intellectuality, on the fact that your family was made up of nothing else, or at least for the most part. And you felt tiny, because they were generally right: they were all huge readers of the classics, who knew a lot about history, literature, philosophy and other human sciences.

All these subjects were familiar to you, because you had had to learn them, to master them in the face of the global family demand for the cultivation of excellence.

Even though you were the ugly duckling of the family, that didn't stop you sharing this knowledge and they were all aware of it. You were able to inject the conversation with valid arguments and insights you'd learned on your own that were important to the topic, and whenever the occasion to say something wise came up that you grasped, they seemed more tolerable to you.

When the discussion turned to the descendants of a painter, you were asked to verify the accuracy of certain statements. So you looked it up on your phone, but barely half a minute later, your mother couldn't resist reprimanding you:

"What did I tell you on your phone? Not when we're with the family."

Irritation from all the previous events of the evening was beginning to press down on you, and it was with some irritation that you replied:

"But I've been asked for some information."

Your voice was almost like that of a child defending themselves against someone calling them a liar, and this tone seemed to displease her when her gaze hardened.

"Don't talk to me like that, and put your phone away."

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it felt like it was going to bleed, and said nothing as you put your phone back in your pocket while the conversation around you resumed.

You didn't meet Frank's gaze, nor did you turn to Matt, because you knew that this simple gesture would show weakness and a cry for help. However, you had made them swear not to interfere, and you remained silent for a while, trying to calm yourself down as you watched the fire ripple in the fireplace like an orange veil dancing in the wind while you fiddled with your fingers.

The tic was automatic; Matt and Frank would have preferred to have taken your hand in theirs to prevent this torment.

What irritated you most of all was the profound injustice of the whole evening. You wouldn’t say anything, and you’d be considered too silent so people would ask you questions, but once you opened your mouth they were not satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t take your own phone, when all the aunts had their own, texting to their friends and all. Children had the right to get away in another room and watch a movie, while you had to stick there doing nothing but listening to whatever was said.

You couldn’t wait for the night to come to an end.

It was time to store the presents everywhere and pretend to the children that Santa had stopped by while they were watching the movie. Everything was placed in colourful piles, and when the children were called, they ran down the stairs and began the frantic tearing of gift wrap to an orchestra of shrieks and shredding.

All the accumulated sounds made you grit your teeth, tightening your throat and making you want to cry. You could feel the limit coming, and you needed a break to prevent you from imploding.

This time you took Frank's hand and squeezed it three times. He turned to you immediately, stroking your cheek before telling Matt. As quickly as they could without looking rushed, they put on their jackets and went out after you.

The night air calmed some part of you instantly, the contrast between all the hectic ambiance inside and the calmness of the outside felt like two extreme opposite worlds living by the only separation of a door.

To make sure that even from the outside there would be no doubt about this cover, Frank had to play along by taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He seemed irritated, and the idea of that Joker card almost seemed to play a real asset in all this to calm him down.

"How the fuck do they sleep at night?" he grumbles as he puffs out his first drag, "it's like they take every opportunity they get to pull you down."

"It's alright, let it slide." you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No it's not," he continues, "I can't believe you managed to handle their company for all these years."

"Didn't have much of a choice," you breathe.

"I know you said it was bad, I just didn't imagine it was constantly so," Matt confirmed.

"If I go back there I might actually punch them in the face," Frank grumbles before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"All that's left is the presents from the adults, then the Yule log, and then we'll be off, okay?" reassured Matt, placing his hand gently on your shoulder.

The touch of his hand brought a comforting warmth, and his words managed to reassure you. You looked at them both, thinking about how it would’ve been without them : unbearable, definitely. You had barely been able to handle it before they came, but now that they were here, you felt safe, like half of the poison that was thrown at you was not as effective.

They had changed you, made you feel loved, cherished, proud. They had been trying to break these patterns, the self depreciation, the self sabotage, the lack of self confidence. They were helping you build yourself back up from the ruins everyone else had left, and you were the most grateful to the universe to had brought them in your life.

"Thank you both, for being here," you admitted, your voice almost cracking, the coolness of the night giving you a feeling of security that was enough to relax your knotted throat.

They turned towards you, their faces softening. They knew what you were going through, what you were enduring for the night, and how complicated and unpleasant it must have been until they arrived.

Frank took you in his arms, the smell of tobacco already permeating his clothes. Matt must not have been enjoying it at all, smelling that darkly sugary, smoky smell all around him, but whatever personal discomfort he was experiencing he didn't let it show.

"It's the least we can do, beautiful," he replied, stroking your back.

"We just wish we could shut their mouths," Matt agreed, holding back from participating in the embrace as you’d instructed him.

"And stop this whole group of women from praising you?" sneered Frank, which made you smile.

Matt's nose scrunched up and his bottom lip curled in disgust at the remark.

"One of them wanted to feed me appetisers, and another asked me about being blind and whether I'd mind being in a relationship with someone whose looks I can't see." he said with a sigh.

"And then?" asked Frank curiously as you both turned to face the lawyer.

"I told her that I didn't need to see to know who was good-looking, and that if I chose my relationships purely on looks, I wouldn't know true friendship or love."

"All those poetic words must have pleased her," Frank punctuated with a whistle.

"Not until I told her my grandmother wore the same perfume as her."

You and Frank both laughed softly, truly impressed at how Matt was handling all this flirting and cringe from several women altogether.

But this calm moment had to have an end, as the cigarette grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Frank broke away from your embrace to finish it and stubbed it out on the wall.

This little outing had done you a world of good. The cool night air had refreshed you, its delicate silence giving you a break from all the noise and the terrible comments from your family all the while Frank and Matt allowed you this break from constant barbs.

You returned again inside, the end of the opening of presents for the children welcoming you. And so the opening of those for the adults began, all the parcels being stored on the table in more chic and sober wrappings. The grandparents started, Frank standing behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other holding his glass of champagne.

One by one, they all opened their presents, until it was your turn. Embarrassment gripped your body as all eyes were on you, and you dreaded the opening simply by being watched with boredom mixed with curiosity - to see how you might react and make the slightest faux pas.

You went about it slowly, wishing to unpack properly and not act like a barbarian tearing everything apart at once. Your aunt beside you imitated a yawn at the fact that you were making them wait, and everyone laughed, a tense little smile nailed to your cheeks.

What you got in the end wasn't too bad, nor too far from what you could appreciate, surprisingly. Of course, you had to force yourself to smile at most of the useless gifts that gave you absolutely no pleasure, but you thanked everyone, and the presentation of gifts moved on to the next ones.

"Didn't you get her anything?" your mother asked the boys.

"Her presents are at my place," Frank informed her.

The sentence made your heart spike up, a sudden warmth colouring your chest in pink softness as the sparkles of it brought the tingling sensation of tears at the corners of your eyes. Presents, they had gotten you presents.

You were not going to cry, of course not, but the lump formed in your throat gave you enough of a hard time that you had to grab your drink and sip on it.

"Speaking of your place, have you looked at the traffic to get home?" questioned Matt, "I don't think I want to take too long."

"I'll have a look," he said, taking his hand off your shoulder to pick up his phone.

You wondered if Matt had had enough, if his own senses had been overwhelmed by all of this and he was pondering on going home. But then realised what they were doing : feigning traffic disruption in order to get home early and save yourself a lot of awful time.

"I think we're going to have to go," Frank nodded as he put his phone away. "Sweetheart? Ready?" he asked, bending over so that his chest pressed against your back.

"Yes," you said as you took a big breath and stood up, saying goodbye to the whole family.

You dreaded the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks or simply the fact of pressing them together and imitating the sound of what should have been a fake smooch, but with a surge of tiredness you objected to this using the excuse of " time is running out".

In no time at all, Matt and Frank had gathered up all your things and were carrying them, heading for the entrance hall to collect theirs.

In less time than it takes to say it, you were finally outside, walking up to the gate. You felt as if your lungs were being squeezed as you went along, almost expecting to feel a rope being pulled tight inside you to tie you to the house, for someone to come out and catch you or whatever. You felt almost like a gnat trying to escape from the spider's web in which it had been stuck a little too long.

You stuck the key in the lock of the gate, turned it hastily, then opened it to let them go with you, closing the big opaque metal door with that step. The pressure hadn't gone away from your body yet, every limb feeling like it was made of thick, rough foam where multiple needles had pierced you in the many crevices they'd already left and were digging even deeper.

You looked for the car in the hope of getting to it as quickly as possible, but you let out a little squeal of surprise when your feet flew off the ground as Frank swept you up in his arms like a princess.

"Ain't no way you're gonna walk, you've had enough exhaustion for the night," he said, tightening his grip on your back and the back of your knees.

"But-" you began reflexively, although the idea of giving up this position didn't bring you any comfort.

"Ah ah," he stopped, "don't wanna hear about it." If he had his two hands free and was being childish, he would have put them over his ears, singing la la la and pretending not to hear anything.

But his hands were firmly under you, giving you all the security you could have dreamed of and the beginnings of a comfort that would last all evening until you'd sleep.

"Circus night is over," Matt huffed, taking a deep breath, "I think I've heard enough nonsense for one year."

"Lucky for you, next one's less than a week away," sneered Frank.

"I'd rather lose a second sense than inflict this on myself and our angel a second time," the demon replied as he grabbed the car keys from Frank's pocket and opened it.

He opened one of the rear doors, letting Frank gently place you in and strap you in place, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped aside to let Matt pass and place the few bags in the boot.

Matt sat down beside you, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You felt the tingles of anxiety under your skin lodge in your legs and squeeze your chest, the rush to get out of here weighing heavily on your head.

Frank sat in the front seat, turning the car key and making it purr, then drove off.

As the car rounded the corner, all the tension began to dissipate and you let the breath you'd been holding in escape from your chest. Your whole body felt heavy, your hands gloved with marble, your legs booted with lead and your head stuffed with cotton.

You felt the softness of Matt's lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you hummed under the sweetness of his comfort.

"It's all over now," he said, resting his chin on your head, "we're going to take care of you."

You snuggle up to him, your hand coming to rest on his as you breathe softly. Your fingers drew soft, formless patterns on the back of his hand, fighting the fatigue that had fallen on you like an anvil.

The moment was sweet, Matt's warmth through his clothes spreading close to you as you turned his hand onto his back to gently trace the lines from his palm up to his callused fingers.

"I'd have to get rid of some of them," grunted Frank, who clearly hadn't yet calmed his frustration, "I'm sure they'd be much better off in an asylum."

"It's an insane asylum, not an asshole asylum," Matt remarked, "you'd have to build asshole asylums but... you can imagine the size of the buildings."

"Yeah, still, maybe I should have burnt my cigarette on one of their cars."

"What a nice Christmas present," chuckled Matt.

"I can be generous sometimes," confirmed Frank.

"Especially when you threaten people," you agreed.

"A pittance," Matt snickered, "Is that one of my sweaters by the way ?

"Yes," you sigh, "I'll have you know it's been criticised tonight."

"Really? By whom."

"I'll let you guess."

"A bit bold coming from someone dressed like Norman Bates who dresses like his mother," Frank grumbled.

You laughed softly, a sort of little venting session taking place in the car like a debriefing following a bizarre situation.

"With all those women around, Red's charm knows no bounds," laughed Frank, "you've caught the eye of one in particular it seems."

"My aunt? She's suffering from too much oestrogen. If you're interested, I can put you in touch," you grinned.

" I'd rather sleep on cotton sheets." grunts Matt as his hand grabs your thigh and squeezes a little tighter, letting a small chirp of amusement escape from between your lips.

The ride continued, and your stomach went all hollow, grumbling with displeasure at the emptiness you'd left it.

"Didn't eat much, did you ?" asked Matt softly.

"Barely touched her plate," confirmed Frank at the front.

"Didn't feel like it," you murmured.

"Is there anything you'd like when you get home?" proposed the demon, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"Something sweet," you hummed, adjusting your chin to rest it on his shoulder.

"Anything else?"

"Two pairs of arms around me," you smiled.

They both grinned, and the ride went by in a flash. You untied yourself once you'd arrived, stretching slightly as you shifted to open the door beside you, but Matt's hand from your thigh came to grab your hip and pull you back to him in a gesture that seemed immensely easy.

You turned to face him, confused for a moment, as he kissed your cheek.

"No walking, remember?" he smiled as Frank opened his car door to come towards yours.

You sigh, shaking your head slightly as you roll your eyes. They were overdoing it, but you weren't going to stop them.

"Come here princess," Frank said as he pulled your hips towards him to take you in his arms again.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his nape, nestling your face in his neck and smelling his subtle cologne on his warm skin.

Matt took the bags and went ahead to open the door for you. The familiar smell of your real home seemed to wash all your worries from your body as you took a simple breath.

The bags were deposited in the hallway, Frank walking over to the sofa to set you down.

"Stay right there and don't move," he informed, hands on either side of you as he kissed you softly.

"What happens if I move ?" you asked, placing one of your hands on his arms.

"I'll tie you up like a pretty present," he chuckled as he kissed you again, "the most perfect present we'd ever have."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you teased, your foreheads pressed together.

"It's a statement," he concluded.

He straightened up, and you were already missing his presence near you, but you respected his request - or rather his order - and remained seated on the sofa. Your head fell back, your body moulding itself to the shape of the couch under the effect of the evening's emotional turmoil. The tension drained away more and more, relaxing your tired muscles and making you yawn.

It wasn't long before Matt and Frank returned with more casual outfits and packages in their hands. You straightened up, bending your knees on the sofa about to get up, but remembering the fact that walking wasn't a possibility, you explained:

"I've got some for you too, am I allowed to go and get them?"

"For us?" said a surprised Frank, pointing at himself as if there was some mistake.

"You mean the packages under the first step of the stairs?" questioned Matt, "I thought those were packages you forgot about for the others."

"No, these are for you," you confirmed as you sat back down on your knees on the sofa.

They stood like that, one blinking repeatedly while the other kept his lips parted.

"You really didn't have to-" Matt began, but you stopped him immediately.

"Tsk tsk, if I don't have the right to stand up, you don't have the right to stop me from giving you presents."

"But-" resumed Frank.

"Ah ah," you smiled in the same tone he'd given you earlier, "don't wanna hear about it."

He parted his lips in a smile but said nothing as Matt laughed softly to the side. They approached you, Frank placing the packages on the coffee table as Matt turned away.

"I'll get them," he eventually says, heading for the top step, cracking it open and pulling out three packages to take back to the coffee table.

"The medium one is for you," you say, pushing the first one towards Frank, "and the big and small one are for you," the two boxes sliding across the smooth table towards Matt.

The packets seemed a particularly complex conundrum to them, but you urged them to open their presents.

Matt opened his and discovered a 7kg weighted blanket and an anti-stress ring that could be twirled on his finger.

"I know you sometimes ask me or Frank to lie on top of you because the weight makes you feel better, so I got you this, which should help if neither of us is ever there to give you what you want. As for the ring, I know that times at the Court can be stressful, so I thought it might help you find a point of anchorage."

Matt seemed at a loss for words, taking the duvet between his fingers and touching the silk sheet you'd wrapped it in. Putting the ring on his index finger, which fit perfectly, he smiled to himself.

As for Frank, he removed the wrapping and his lips parted.

"I've been looking for these for months," he said, looking at the few books he'd been talking about over and over again. "How did you... ?"

You'd scoured countless bookshops, searched book repositories, researched the clearance of certain titles by libraries to find these books that had all but disappeared very quickly while the work was being republished and retranslated.

"A good girlfriend never reveals her secrets," you smiled.

The two of them placed their gifts on the table and came to embrace you, nestling their faces in the crooks of your neck. They held you close, gently kissing your skin between hushed "thank you's", dotting your neck and face with soft pecks.

"What did we do to deserve you," Frank murmured, pulling back slightly.

"I could ask the same about you both," you smiled, running your fingers through their hair.

They kissed you again, then handed you their own gift. You opened it, and it was something you'd talked about several times before, something that was very close to your heart and that they'd decided to give you. This time it was your turn to hug them, and they laughed as you showered their faces with kisses.

"What do you say to a nice bath, and then some dessert before bed?" offered Matt.

"I think that's the best idea of the evening," you confirmed, caressing his cheek and kissing his nose.

Without further ado, Frank took you in his arms like a koala, letting your legs cross behind him as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. He led you and Matt into the bathroom, the devil bending over the tub to prepare the bath.

Frank lifted you slightly and sat you down on the wash basin counter, letting his hands fall on both your thighs and stroking them gently.

"As much as I love your makeup, we're gonna have to remove it sweetheart", he explained, kissing your cheek.

So mechanically, you grabbed your make-up remover, ready to start the process. But Frank stopped you in your tracks, gently taking the bottle in one hand and a cotton pad in the other.

He poured a small amount onto the white disc, dosing as you did regularly.

"Close your pretty eyes for me," he murmured, taking your chin between his fingers and starting to remove your make-up.

Frank had this charming habit, in the evenings when you were getting ready for bed and he wasn't out playing vigilante, of watching you remove your make-up. He knew a lot about your day by the way you went about it: slow and thoughtful was the result of a good day, faster and more jerky obviously reflected one full of frustration, and sometimes when your movements were slow and your eyes half-closed, it generally meant that the day had been very, very long.

He concentrated, pressing tenderly against your skin as he removed iridescent, matte and mascara from your eyelids, occasionally pausing to kiss your lips, making you smile and giggle softly with each peck.

You almost wanted to put lipstick on his lips and let him kiss your whole face until the red of your cheeks was indistinguishable from the colour of the lipstick.

He asked you to look up this time to clear away the mascara smears and the black marks left in their path. He was doing this with the utmost precision, and this personal attention sent tickles all the way to the back of your skull.

"Look at me?" he asked and you complied, a smirk forming on his lips. "The prettiest girl."

He came over and placed a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping aside to throw away the little cotton disc.

"I'm gonna go and check what snacks we have, Red? I'll leave you my favourite part, but only because it's christmas alright?" he informed before kissing the tip of your nose one last time and stepping out of the bathroom.

Matt, so far checking the temperature of the bath water to make sure it was correct, shook off his damp fingers and wiped them on a towel before standing up and moving between your legs.

"I'll have you stand up just for a bit," he cautioned, taking your hands and pulling you slightly towards him to get you to your feet. "Arms up."

At his request, you raised your arms. His hands pinched the bottom of your hoodie and pulled it up your body. He laid it to one side, continuing with your t-shirt, his fingers still warm from the water sliding delicately against your skin.

"So that's Frank's favourite part?" you smiled, "undressing me?

"I have to say it is," he stated as he unbuttoned your trousers and panties, sliding them to the floor where you lifted your feet to get out of them.

"And what's your favourite part?" you asked as he took off your socks and raised up to your level.

"The one that's about to happen."

He guided you to the bath and let you slide in gently. The temperature was perfect, just as you liked it, and you let out a moan of ease from between your lips until most of your body was submerged in the bath.

Matt took a stool from the bathroom and placed it beside you, taking a cup at the same time to pour water over your hair. He applied himself with great care, taking his time to make sure no drops got into your eyes.

Your muscles relaxed naturally with the heat, finally eradicating the tension in your body once and for all.

You felt Matt's fingers dip into the bath water, sliding up from the skin of your thigh and gently up your body, tracing your silhouette under the water.

"You're beautiful," he whispers as his wet fingers rose from the water to caress your cheek.

"How could you know?" you asked softly, watching as he stared into the emptiness.

"My hands don't lie to me, and I know the beauty of the mind at first sight of the heart" he smiled as he took your bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before massaging your head.

To help him, you straightened up, pivoting slightly to get your back to him. His fingers snaked through your hair, massaging gently and lathering everything up slowly. He worked the back of your neck, muscles tense, letting your head go with the movement of his hands.

With your neck now leaning back, Matt smiled gently before kissing your forehead.

"That's my favourite part," he confirmed, resuming the massage.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentleness of the moment and Matt's touch. He was pressing, caressing, painting with his fingers as if he were holding the most beautiful and delicate material in his hands.

Too soon for your liking - because you would have preferred this moment to have no end - he rinsed your hair, letting the white mousse spread over your shoulders and applying it lightly to your skin. He took the sponge, soaking it in shower gel before squeezing it into a foam so that he could spread the bubbly cloud over your skin.

He took one of your arms, raising it so that he could get it straight and soap you up properly, and he kissed the length of your skin before the softness of his kisses was erased by the little soap bubbles that the sponge left in its wake. He did the same for your second arm, and your leg, and the second after that, covering your whole body with kisses and softness.

At first you thought it was unfair, because no sooner had he placed a kiss on your skin than he wiped it away with white foam. But you were soon comforted by the idea that these weren't kisses being chased away, but kisses being kept, kisses that seeped under your skin and brought you all the warmth that the bath was beginning to no longer contain.

Before the water got too cold, he gently rinsed you off and got you out of the tub, wrapping you in your bathrobe.

Frank came back into the bathroom at last, bringing clean, more comfortable clothes in his hands. They both took their time drying your hair and dressing you, whispering sweet nothings to you as they kissed your cheeks and temples.

Each kiss washed away the stress you'd been feeling, replacing bitterness with sweetness, and you relished every moment of it.

Once again they carried you in their arms to the sofa, where Frank had placed a plethora of foodstuffs of all kinds on the table, snacks and other sweet products that you might have wanted at the time.

You watched several episodes of a series that you'd been watching together lately, commenting on it and falsely - or actually - taking offence at the particularly stupid choices made by the main characters.

You didn't need any more than that. All the love in the world was with them.

They had taught you how one hand changes when you put it on top of another, that another world is possible but is present in this one, that there is always a dream asleep.

They were standing on your eyelids, and their hair was in yours, they were engulfed in your shadow. Their eyes were always open, they wouldn't let you sleep, their kisses in the light made the sun evaporate.

Back pressed against the chest of one, face hidden in the nape of the other's neck, tonight you fell asleep, fulfilled, safe and loved.

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hephaestiions · 15 days ago

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day 5 of @hprecfest — a romantic fic

service bell by @shiftylinguini (shiftylinguini) (E, 8.3k)

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

draco (werewolf and world-weary recluse) hasn't seen harry (whose vampirism hasn't changed much re: general saviour complex) in a year. then, harry returns.

—

i've been chewing on what constitutes a romance in my books & arrived mostly at the notion that recognition is romantic. in the conventional senses of familiarity, acknowledgement, anticipation, yes, but also as re-cognition— knowing again, knowing through/despite difference, relearning. a narrative embracing the idea that knowledge— of another person, another body, even the self— is not edified but always dynamic, changing is peak romance.

service bell is an ode to this idea. it features changed bodies & anatomy that demand pleasure be renegotiated and two characters so drunk on desire for each other that they're always willing to map & move with these changes. their dynamic is so well-worn that they spar and match each other volley for volley, yet shifty simultaneously presents us a moment where everything about this— expectations, labels, lives— is about to irrevocably transform. peak romance: even when draco's body can't quite recognise itself, it recognises harry's scent.

this fic has everything i love: sharp, sullen banter, gorgeous sensory focus, an undeniable gravitational pull between harry/draco & aching want that turns into filthy, scorching, delicious sex with the added bonus of a delightful epilogue. i'm picky with creature fics, but shifty always does marvellous things with the trope & service bell is a crunchy, tasty morsel that packs an absolutely breathtaking punch in less than 10k. if you're lucky enough to encounter this for the first time, go, run, i can't recommend it enough; if you've read it before, let me entice you towards a reread!

[sidenote: i'm most inspired to rec stuff i find romantic here, so please also see modern love (E, 61k) by @tackytigerfic (my rec) and halcyon days (T, 1.3k) by @the-starryknight (my rec), two fics that changed my perspective on romantic relationships & the character work one needs to do to write a compelling love story. both fics are love letters to the best of h/d.]

#no i am not three days late to this why do you ask #anyway #i would follow shifty anywhere #geets does hprecfest #geets recs #drarry #drarry recs #shiftylinguini

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teyamskxawng · 2 years ago

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In Heat [I]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

The rundown: You seek out Lo'ak, your best friend, in the midst of your first heat cycle. Like the good friend he is, Lo'ak eases you through it.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 5.5k

A/N: user @teyamsxawng's first fic is about lo'ak??? yeah...i have neteyam fics in the works but this was the first avatar fic i wrote so i'm pushing it out now :) i'm also really scared to post my work so please be kind lol. i have like six chapters of this fic written so far with no clear ending in sight, so expect to see more of this soon.

Your first heat was about to begin, and you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you heard would be an excruciating experience. You had a rough idea of what your first cycle would entail–discomfort, fatigue, and a touch of humiliation–but little did you know just how much it would affect you. Bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grappled with an intensity you had never anticipated.

As you lay on your sleeping mat in the solitude of your home, you curled into a tight ball, desperately trying to cope with the nearly-unbearable pain. The sensation was comparable to harboring a living, breathing creature within you, its heartbeat sending shockwaves of agony throughout your body.

You imagined it being a tiny drummer, vigorously banging its drums in tune with your torment. Hopelessly, you squeezed your legs together, desperate for even the slightest relief amidst the immense pressure emanating from your core. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected your heat to be this intense and all-consuming, turning your routine upside down and leaving you at the mercy of your body.

Amid your futile attempts at alleviating the mounting pressure with your own untrained fingers, you realized that you had no clue what the fuck you were doing. Your anxiety levels skyrocketed as you envisioned the possibility of exacerbating your situation, fearing that you'd end up hurting yourself even more if you tried anything on your own.

With every passing moment, your mind betrayed you–compulsively circling back to the one individual you were trying to distract yourself from: Lo'ak, your best friend.

Tackling that emotional behemoth would be a mental expedition akin to scaling the Hallelujah Mountains with your eyes closed, and you lacked the cognitive stamina for such an endeavor. Regardless, the stubborn recollection of the boy proved to be relentless, a mental scratch that demanded to be itched. Memories of his ability to make your world right again resurfaced, and you couldn't help but contemplate that maybe he was the secret recipe to your current dilemma.

You couldn't deny that you were on the verge of making a catastrophically bad decision, one that would go down in your personal history book as an all-time low. However, it was as if your body had mustered all of its strength to overpower your subconscious completely, that annoying little voice of reason, and take matters into its own hands.

Before you knew it, you were on your two feet, feeling slightly wobbly but determined, run-walking out of your tent like a woman on a mission, seeking out your best friend.

You didn't even have to engage in any sort of exuberating journey to figure out where he'd be. It was as if your very soul could smell him.

His clean, robust musk seamlessly mingled with the sweet spice of his cleansing balm, creating an alluring fusion that your senses simply couldn't resist. The aroma captivated you entirely, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your feet carrying your body toward the source of sensory delight.

Venturing into the forest, you kept a discreet distance from Hometree and the rest of the clanspeople, desiring solitude, with the only exception being Lo'ak.

You stumbled upon him near a shallow creek, his posture keen and attentive as he scanned the water for signs of fish darting through its depths. His back was a mesmerizing sight, his dark blue stripes tracing the outline of his sinewy, lean muscles.

So alluring was the view that you clenched your fists tightly, restraining yourself from fulfilling the irresistible urge to reach out and touch him. It was as if every fiber of your being demanded that you do so, and it took every ounce of your willpower to resist.

Against your will, an entirely embarrassing sound that was half sigh and half whimper escaped your lips. The unexpected noise caused Lo'ak to jolt in surprise, his hand swiftly reaching for the dagger at his hip as he whirled around to confront the sudden intruder.

In a fleeting moment, the anxiety etched on Lo'ak's face dissolved, replaced by mild amusement as he realized it was none other than his best friend. However, it didn't take long for his concern to resurface as he took in your bewildering appearance.

It was clear you were utterly discombobulated, a far cry from your usual poised demeanor. Your cheeks were flushed a deep purple. Your usually sleek, well-groomed hair had gone rogue, appearing as though you had either been tossing and turning in a fitful slumber or wrestling with a goddamn palulukan.

Adding to your unkempt appearance, your chest was drenched in sweat, heaving rapidly up and down as though you had just sprinted to your location yet still found yourself gasping for air. But what really captured Lo'ak's undivided attention, and sent a shiver down his spine, were your eyes.

Gone were the golden irises he knew so well, replaced by a dark hazel hue that was almost brown. Even more disconcerting, your pupils were dilated to an unnerving degree, appearing as wide as your irises themselves.

Without hesitation, Lo'ak rushed to your side and extended his arm to grasp your forearm gently. "y/n, are you good? You look kinda…"

He couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. The only way he could describe you was looking completely disheveled. And the sound you made earlier was definitely not something he was going to dwell on.

You blinked at Lo'ak's hand on your arm. You heaved several deep breaths, attempting to compose yourself. Opening and closing your mouth, it was evident you were wrestling with the right words to convey your thoughts. Eventually, you shook your head in defeat and covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly.

Witnessing this only served to heighten Lo'ak's concern. He furrowed his brow as he studied your condition. "y/n?" he inquired nervously, imagining the worst-case scenario.

Still shielding your face with your hands, you managed to mumble something that might've resembled a sentence. Lo'ak couldn't help but let out a snicker that briefly reverberated through his body. Regaining his composure, he tilted his head in confusion, entirely unable to decipher your garbled words. He admitted honestly, "I have no idea what you're trying to say."

You sighed in defeat. The close proximity of Lo'ak, combined with the overwhelming frustration you felt between your legs, completely overshadowed any embarrassment you may have otherwise experienced.

"I said," you started, your dark eyes fixated on Lo'ak's with an intensity he couldn't ignore, "I just started my first heat cycle." Lo'ak's eyes went wide with shock at your confession.

Of all the things he'd imagined you saying, this possibility ranked the lowest on his mental list. He found himself at a loss for words and unsure what to think or do, especially as he involuntarily pictured you in a state of undeniable sexual frustration.

In response, all he could muster was a weak "oh," his voice faltering mid-syllable, making the situation all the more awkward.

You emitted what sounded like a pained groan, your emotions threatening to overflow into tears. In a vulnerable gesture, you allowed your forehead to rest against Lo'ak's shoulder. He couldn't help but tense up in response to your warm body pressed against him.

"Lo'ak," you whispered through clenched teeth, "it hurts so bad."

Lo'ak found himself struggling for air in the tense situation. With a shaky nod, he attempted to comprehend your words and determine the next course of action. As your best friend, it shouldn't have been a shock that you sought him out during your time of need, especially when that need was your first heat cycle.

Lo'ak hesitantly cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the uneasy feeling that had taken up residence there. "Uh. Are you gonna be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Blinking repeatedly, your eyelashes tickled Lo'ak's shoulder, causing him to shudder. Your voice was filled with uncertainty as you admitted, "I don't know. I can't… I'm scared I'll make it worse or hurt myself or…I don't know. I just need—"

Your grip on Lo'ak's arms tightened, your words trailing off. The message was clear—you had no idea what to do, and you were scared, turning to Lo'ak for solace and support.

In that instant, Lo'ak found himself filled with a sudden surge of empathy and understanding. With newfound determination, he placed his hands on your back, extending his fingers across your skin as he gently rubbed up and down.

Upon feeling his reassuring touch, you exhaled sharply, adjusting your position to bury your face in the crook of his neck. For a while, you two simply remained like that, sharing gentle caresses and the soothing sound of your uneven breaths.

At last, you found your voice amidst the silence. "Lo'ak," you whispered, your tone holding a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability.

It was barely audible, a faint whisper in the wind, yet Lo'ak caught it without any trouble, and he could undeniably sense the subtle movement of your body, inching even closer to his.

At first, Lo'ak couldn't tell whether you had done that deliberately, but then you shifted your weight further down onto his leg, nestling his left thigh snugly between your own two legs, ever so gently grazing yourself on his taut muscle.

Lo'ak had to consciously remind himself to breathe, to inhale and exhale, because there was no way that you could possibly be getting yourself off on his leg. Shamelessly. Completely unapologetic.

The physical contact must not have been enough to provide you any relief, as evidenced by the fragmented cry of aggravation that reverberated against his neck. "It's not…."

Lo'ak fully understood your sentiment, nodding his head empathetically at your frustration. "No, yeah. Here, let's just—"

He pulled away from you, or rather, he gently moved you away from himself, extracting a barely audible whimper from you. He held you delicately by the shoulders, keeping you at arm's length, and his heart plummeted at the sight of the tears that meandered down from your glassy eyes.

You were hurting and in distress, and witnessing it tore Lo'ak apart. In a flurry of motion, he reached out to cradle your face, tenderly wiping away each persistent tear with the pads of his thumbs.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration as you tried to keep your composure. His gentle touch drove you to the brink of madness. You loathed feeling so exposed and powerless, particularly in Lo'ak's presence. You took solace in the fact that, at the very least, he wasn't poking fun at you or rubbing salt in your emotional wounds. No, he was actually being kind.

In a soft voice, Lo'ak said, "C'mere," as he retreated towards an enormous tree trunk. Gently placing a hand on your wrist, he coaxed you to follow him. And in your current state of emotional upheaval, you found yourself unable to resist his pull.

Lo'ak found a comfortable spot on the forest floor, casually sitting against a tree trunk with his legs stretched out before him.

"You can sit if you want…it might be easier," he offered, attempting to hide the fact that his own face was now flushed with what could only be described as a matching shade of purple to yours. The tension of the situation was not lost on either of you.

He didn't need to tell you twice. In a move that bordered on comedic desperation, you practically threw yourself onto Lo'ak's lap, settling on his left thigh with a soft sigh. The newly adjusted position felt infinitely better than before. The direct contact sent shivers down your spine, and the pressure on your core momentarily eased as you clamped your thighs around his leg.

You were desperately chasing that tantalizing feeling, and you could hardly bring yourself to feel a hint of shame as your body instinctively pursued it.

With an almost artful finesse, you adjusted your hips to attain the perfect level of pressure on your front. You were acutely aware of the dampness that began to form on Lo'ak's thigh due to your wetness, and even though a flicker of internal mortification plagued you, you simply couldn't find it in yourself to halt your actions.

With each move, you felt Lo'ak's leg flex beneath you, inadvertently applying exquisite pressure against the sensitive nub at your front.

The sensation was nothing short of divine. It was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but let out a moan of pleasure—a sound foreign to your ears but not significant enough to make you care.

Lo'ak, on the flip side, was experiencing an entirely different world.

His senses were fully alert, allowing him to take in every sight, sound, and feeling that unfolded before him in real-time. The whole situation played out like the most incredible, wet, thrillingly vivid dream he had ever encountered.

Desperate to maintain his composure, Lo'ak clenched his hands tightly against his sides, so much so that his knuckles turned a few shades paler than their initial blue.

As he attempted to stay as collected as possible, he couldn't help but wish for some magic remedy to sort out his persistent erection. It pressed uncomfortably against his loincloth at an awkward angle as if it were mocking him.

You unexpectedly interrupted his chain of thought, your voice sounding broken and desperate.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out, your eyes clenched shut as your mouth fell open, unable to suppress another moan. "just feels so good."

Lo'ak observed you with the utmost attention, his heart clenching tightly within his chest. In a barely audible volume, he softly reassured you, "Don't apologize; it's okay. Do what you have to do."

He was confident that, despite his subdued tone, you could hear and understand him fully.

You inhaled deeply, your breath quavering as you attempted to calm yourself down. Your tongue swept across your parched lips, and you swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in your throat. You found yourself unable to respond, yet continued experimenting with different rhythms and levels of pressure, determined to find the optimal approach to take yourself to the verge of ecstasy.

As your quest yielded fruitful results, you began better understanding your body.

With every sway of your hips, you experienced a surge of delight that coursed through your entire being. Each motion brushed your most sensitive areas against Lo'ak's narrow, muscular frame, sending chills up your spine.

You could feel your breaths growing shallower and more rapid, the warmth of your breath caressing Lo'ak's skin as your eyes remained tightly shut in indulgence. You allowed yourself to fully enjoy the moment, unabashedly taking advantage of his presence for the sake of your own pleasure.

As you continued, the tension within your abdomen stretched further and further, like a taut rubber band about to snap. Beads of sweat formed on your glistening skin, and your panting filled the air.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure threatened to pour forth, and your toes instinctively curled in response to the inevitable release building inside you. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a delicate mewl while elevating the speed of your motions.

You uttered desperately, "I'm so close, Lo'…fuck. It's so much." Your voice, filled with raw emotion, dripped with anticipation.

As that blissful sensation intensified within your lower abdomen, teetering on the edge of release, Lo'ak took a deep swallow. His voice was low and throaty as he softly whispered to you, providing reassurance and encouragement, "You're okay, y/n. Just let yourself go."

His words were just what you needed, a string of curses falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm wash over and your walls clench around nothing. Your face softened with pleasure as you let out a shaky exhale, still sliding your now completely oversensitive clit across his thigh.

With a whispered sigh, Lo'ak reassured you, "Just like that, I've got you. It's okay." His hands tenderly left their perch at his sides, returning to the relative safety of your back. Gently, he stroked your soft skin, providing comfort as you descended from the peak of your intense high.

His soothing words and embrace gave you warmth from within, a sensation of security wrapping you up like a comforting blanket. You couldn't deny the feelings that Lo'ak's presence evoked in you.

At this point, one would presume you had suffered enough self-inflicted humiliation for a single day, but no.

As quickly as you bid farewell to your recent high, an insistent, throbbing ache woke anew within your deepest core. The previous experience proved a mere prequel, a teasing overture for the reverberating need you knew you just could not ignore. Your desires for touch and release cried out incessantly; Lo'ak was nestled beneath you all the while, painfully tempting—so close yet so frustratingly far.

With a gulp of determination and an unceremonious discard of any remaining semblance of pride, you peeled your eyes open, greeted by the half-lidded, entranced gaze of Lo'ak. His voice laced with curiosity; he inquired, "Is it better?"

You knitted your forehead together, desperately attempting to articulate the whirlwind of feelings that surged through you. It was a monumental challenge, one that left your mind racing with a relentless barrage of risqué thoughts involving what you desired Lo'ak to do to you.

Sighing, you muttered to yourself, "How is it still there?"

Lo'ak, on the other hand, was doing everything in his power to grasp the situation and figure out how he could alleviate your distress.

Puzzled, he inquired, "How is what still where…?"

In response, you actually hissed at Lo'ak, baring your fangs and all, unable to contain your frustration. He was so stupid. So warm and strong and pretty and stupid. You thought this as your eyes roamed over his strong, warm, and undeniably attractive figure.

"The urge, skxawng!" Your body involuntarily responded by undulating your hips against Lo'ak's leg. His eyes drifted downward for a moment to follow your movements before refocusing back on your face with concern.

You continued to explain, "The urge to be touched, I don't know why it's still there."

Suddenly, you glanced down at your own body, only then becoming aware of the rhythmic motion you had been unconsciously performing. In an effort to regain some semblance of control, you dug your fingernails into your thighs, willing your body to cease its movements.

Lo'ak grunted at the sight of you holding yourself back, the grip on your legs tight enough to cut off your circulation. Unable to stand it anymore, he pried your slender fingers from your thigh and gently took your hands in his own, much larger ones.

He tried to make eye contact with you but soon realized you were lost in your thoughts, staring intently at your lap. With a bit of patience, he finally managed to catch your dark irises when you fleetingly looked up at him.

"Okay," he began earnestly, "just tell me what I can do to make it better."

Though a bit hesitant, his voice was full of sincerity and determination.

Much to his surprise, your eyes widened even further. Shock, hope, and a dash of something else filled them all at once. He was really giving you complete freedom, entrusting himself to you to alleviate the pain of your heat.

With that, you decided to take the leap. "I want you to use your hands on me," you murmured, bringing yours and Lo'ak's intertwined hands toward your abdomen.

You watched Lo'ak's facial expressions with keen interest as you hesitantly guided his fingers to your most intimate spot. Despite the thin fabric separating his digits from your flesh, you couldn't suppress the breathy moan that escaped your lips.

"Right there," you continued, your voice trembling as you released your grasp on Lo'ak's hand. To your immense relief, his fingers didn't retreat. Instead, they maintained gentle pressure, sending pleasant tingles throughout your lower body.

Suddenly, it was as if Lo'ak had awakened from a daze. He looked up at you with curious desire evident in his eyes but still managed to convey his genuine concern.

"You're sure?" he inquired with the utmost caution, seeking all the verbal affirmation he could possibly get. No matter the circumstance, he would never let himself exploit you in such a vulnerable state.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at Lo'ak's search for reassurance.

You couldn't help but think that Lo'ak asking for consent would be an irresistible turn-on under any other circumstance. However, given your state of urgent need, you craved immediate physical touch and control, no questions asked.

In a display of impatience, you threw your head back in exasperation, your own hand carelessly venturing beneath your loincloth to explore the fiery depths of your core.

"Please," you managed to utter, despite never being one to steep as low as begging. It was embarrassing, but that was genuinely the only word that managed to take shape in your mind amidst your overwhelming desires.

Lo'ak, finally sensing the critical nature of the situation, offered a hastened nod to the increasingly desperate girl before him. His heart pounded with exhilaration as his trembling fingers made short work of loosening your loincloth.

Captivated, his eyes were drawn to the now fully exposed treasure that lay between your legs.

Despite the circumstances, an undeniable blush spread across your cheeks, leaving you feeling more exposed than ever before.

With utmost care, Lo'ak gently guided your legs further apart. His fingers, like tendrils of affection, traced a delicate path around the contour of your knee and then traveled along the length of your inner thigh. Their journey didn't end until they arrived at your already glistening core. A single, adventurous fingertip glided gingerly along your lips before hesitantly prodding at your entrance. Your spine stiffened involuntarily, a sharp gasp emitting from your lips.

"Shit. Does it hurt?" Taken aback, Lo'ak's eyes widened as he witnessed your intense reaction—his reassuring self-assurance evaporated.

He immediately interpreted your pinched expression as a sign of hurt or discomfort. Alarmed, he became a living statue, daring not to move a muscle, his finger maintaining its intrusion of the slightest degree.

With an air of bewilderment, you stammered, "No, it's just so different," struggling to put your experience into words.

"Is that a bad thing?" His panicked gaze searched for your eyes.

Trying your best to control your emotions, you responded with a bit of a quiver in your voice, "No. No, it's really good. Keep going."

Lo'ak let out a shaky, relieved exhale, thankful that he wasn't causing you any discomfort. He proceeded with a short nod, allowing his finger to submerge into your eager embrace.

Your jaw went slack, eyes flickering in surprise, head tilting back as you reacted to the new, fuller sensation. The taut muscles in your abdomen quivered as you fought the urge to press yourself against him even further.

Lo'ak maintained a leisurely rhythm with his finger. A tender whimper escaped your lips as you adjusted to the near-overwhelming sensation, waves of undiscovered pleasure enveloping you, easing the fiery longing at your very core.

"Shh, you're okay, y/n," Lo'ak murmured softly, the hushed vibration of his words coursing through your entire body. A warmth flooded your face, and you quickly looked down, suddenly feeling feverish.

Seemingly unfazed, a second of Lo'ak's fingers joined the first, proceeding at their unhurried speed while your own hands struggled to find something to occupy, something to keep you grounded in reality.

You reached a hand out to grasp his shoulder–your grip probably bordering on painful–while your other hand covered your mouth in a hopeless bid to stifle the embarrassing sounds you kept unconsciously making.

"Oh, fuck." You mumbled, your hips twitching as his thumb grazed over your swollen clit.

An overwhelming wave of delight crashed over you, unlike anything you'd ever experienced. It built in the pit of your stomach, erupting into a continuous stream of moans that escaped from your lips while Lo'ak performed the entrancing move once again.

With one last deft stroke of Lo'ak's thumb, you reached the peak of your sensations. All you could do was mumble out an embarrassed string of apologies as you shattered around him, legs shaking, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of your second climax.

"No, you don't have to apologize. That's it, there you go." Lo'ak whispered above you, his hands securely gripping your hips. He watched you in a mixture of amazement and disbelief as you came undone on top of him.

In the aftermath of your unforeseen encounter, you and Lo'ak found yourselves sitting together in a tense, stunned silence.

Lo'ak's fingers remain deeply lodged inside your warmth, a vivid reminder of the unexpected turn your meeting had taken. While slowly regaining composure, Lo'ak's thoughts naturally drifted to his own throbbing predicament. He fervently attempted to push those intrusive musings aside, focusing all his mental strength (what little of it he had left) on anything else that might've provided a reprieve.

To distance his mind further from his own problem, Lo'ak mustered up the courage to break the otherwise heavy silence.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he managed to ask, "How about now? Does, uh. Does it feel better?" His question, though well-intentioned, seemed to hang in the air, almost as if it were searching for a suitable landing spot.

Still catching your breath, you eventually acknowledged Lo'ak's efforts. With a meek nod and a quiet, "Yeah. Thank you," you did your part in attempting to lift the air of awkwardness that had befallen the two of you.

In response, Lo'ak merely mimicked your nod, his gaze drifting back to the delicate situation of his hand's continued connection with your lower half. A determined expression graced his face as he gently gripped your waist, carefully guiding his fingers free from your tight warmth.

The ridiculously obscene squelch of the movement caused you both to flush, despite everything you'd just done with each other.

As his fingers slid away, moistened with your slick, you were overtaken by a deep, almost primal desire to capture every last trace of yourself from his fingers. You felt absolutely unhinged.

Lo'ak, completely unaware of your internal struggle, stared at his own hand, held up between the two of you. His eyes widened in disbelief and amazement as he realized the impact his touch had on you.

Unsure of how to handle his newfound emotion, Lo'ak stealthily tried to wipe his hand on the lush grass beneath him, but your sudden vice-like grip stopped him.

Your eyes blazed with a mixture of desperation and wild abandon, yet you couldn't bring yourself to explain your overwhelming urge.

Instead, you gently guided Lo'ak's hand close to your face and took two of his soaked digits into your mouth. A soft moan escaped your lips as you savored the taste, feeling the fullness of his fingers as they filled your mouth.

You hastened your efforts in cleaning them, the graceful movement of your lips against his skin bringing you a sense of intense warmth and satisfaction as the previously overwhelming sensations within you began to subside. Finally, you released his hand, but not before planting a series of tender licks across his fingertips, ensuring that nothing remained.

As you finally met Lo'ak's eyes, you became painfully aware of the fact that you had just come on your best friend (twice).

Not only that, but you had to go and make matters even worse by practically worshiping his fingers with your mouth. The heat in your cheeks intensified as you gingerly placed Lo'ak's hand back in his lap.

With a desperate need to refocus your attention, you quickly averted your eyes from the boy to avoid being tempted by any further impulsive behavior. You busied your fingers with the painstaking task of reattaching your undone loincloth, double knotting the ties as if that would erase the memory of your exposed lower half from Lo'ak's mind.

Managing only to utter a brief "Sorry," you could sense the tension in the air. It was almost palpable.

Lo'ak, however, responded with a calming and reassuring deep voice, "You don't have to apologize."

You snorted inwardly at the thought that that was at least the third time he had said some variation of those very words to you in the last ten minutes alone.

You offered a subtle nod, unable to bring yourself to look at, speak to, or even touch your friend at that moment.

In a sudden, jerky movement, you disentangled yourself from his leg. You planted yourself on the forest floor, sitting against the same tree trunk that supported Lo'ak.

You couldn't help but glance back at his thigh, noticing the glistening evidence of your prior proximity. Your heart must have stopped beating for a good few seconds. You squeezed your eyes shut, mentally chanting a string of curses in a bid to cope with the irrepressible embarrassment that swept through your body.

The tense silence that ensued felt like an eternity, each moment stretching out painfully while the muted sounds of the Pandoran forest hummed in the background. Your mind raced, desperately trying to come up with an escape plan.

You really, really needed to leave. Like, yesterday. But you were still firmly rooted in your spot, too terrified to move even a muscle.

Then, without warning, the quiet was shattered by the violent rustling of leaves nearby. As if summoned by your wishful thinking, Neteyam appeared through the greenery. He wore an exasperated expression upon seeing you and his brother sitting together against the tree.

"Lo'ak! Dad sent you to fetch a single fish thirty minutes ago! What are you doing?!"

Neteyam's patience was wearing thin as he grabbed his brother by the arm, dragging him to his feet, his eyes probing for a reasonable explanation.

"Shit, bro. I'm sorry! I was fishing, I swear. But then I ran into y/n, and…" Lo'ak's voice trailed off, his eyes darting toward you as he recalled the events that transpired during your brief encounter. "…she just needed my help for a minute. It was really important."

Neteyam exhaled loudly in frustration, clearly annoyed at his brother's excuse. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering his composure, and then fixed his glare upon Lo'ak, followed by you.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized you both, sporting matching blushes and attempting to maintain nonchalant expressions. Neteyam knew you two all too well; you were always getting into some kind of mischief together.

But today, he decided, he could spare you the grilling session. With an exaggerated shake of his head, he urged Lo'ak toward the direction of the creek, giving the back of his brother's head a not-so-gentle nudge as he passed by.

"A single fish," Neteyam mumbled, running a hand over his braids in disbelief as he glared at his brother.

You sensed that your chance for a getaway had finally arrived–it was now or never.

Your muscles tensed, eager to lengthen the gap between yourself and Lo'ak (or any other living being within your vicinity, for that matter). You sprung to your feet and hastily ran your fingers through your tousled hair, attempting to tame its disarray. You smoothed your top and made sure that your loincloth was properly adjusted.

"I should get going," you stammered, trying to swallow your nervousness. "I have some…um…chores I need to finish."

Both boys turned their attention toward you, with Neteyam giving you an amicable nod while donning a warm smile. Lo'ak, for his part, offered you a tender smile of his own, causing you to stifle the shy grin that threatened to conquer your entire countenance.

As you stood there, poised for your great escape, you were reminded of the delicacy and reassurance that radiated from Lo'ak just a few minutes prior.

Lo'ak, typically the embodiment of immaturity—a foolhardy best friend in the purest sense—managed to make your heart flutter with his tender warmth, nurturing you through your dire ordeal. He took care of you, offered praises and soothing words, and fuck. You wanted it again and again.

Abruptly, you snapped out of your daydream, realizing you were meandering down a dangerous tangent. You shook your head, as though physically trying to jolt your mind back into reality.

"Thanks, Lo'ak," you managed gratefully, making eye contact with him for just a bit longer than was probably necessary. "I mean it. For helping me."

Lo'ak, seemingly caught off-guard by your intense gaze, replied with a faint but earnest, "Course."

All the while, Neteyam couldn't help but furrow his brows at your peculiar exchange, very much aware of the odd dynamic between you two.

Sensing the need to move forward, Lo'ak immediately added, "Let me know if I can help you again."

Blushing at the implication, you nodded your head vigorously, fully aware that a similar scenario might very well arise in the future.

You offered a hasty wave to the two brothers before you spun around and embarked on your journey back to your home, navigating the wild landscape, distractedly ducking under low-hanging branches and batting away intrusive leaves.

There was no way you were making it through your first heat cycle alive.

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

#teyamskxawng #teyamskxawng’s fics #lo'ak x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak smut #lo'ak smut #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow #lo'ak x y/n #lo’ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #avatar 2022 #lo'ak fanfiction #james cameron avatar #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak

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downbad4fyodor · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Fyodor Dostoevsky x Fem!reader word count: 363 summary: Fyodor takes you to see the Christmas lights around Moscow warnings: none Tag list: @getousrep

Want more Fics for the Holidays?

The frigid embrace of Moscow's winter air wrapped around you and Fyodor as you embarked on an enchanting adventure through the city adorned in the splendor of Christmas lights. Fyodor had orchestrated a surprise evening to immerse you in the spellbinding beauty of Moscow's festive illumination.

Under the silver glow of the moon, the streets draped in a pristine coat of snow whispered tales of winter magic. Fyodor, with his tall and commanding presence, walked by your side, his violet eyes reflecting the soft radiance of the Christmas lights that adorned the city. The night promised a magical journey, and Fyodor's gaze held a mysterious allure that heightened the sense of anticipation.

The first stop on this captivating expedition was none other than the historic Red Square. As you approached, the iconic St. Basil's Cathedral emerged like a majestic ice palace. Its domes, adorned with a breathtaking array of twinkling lights in hues of red, green, and gold, transformed the architectural marvel into a mesmerizing spectacle that rivaled the stars above. Fyodor, his breath visible in the crisp air, squeezed your hand as you both stood in silent awe, taking in the dazzling display that seemed to defy the winter night.

"It's like something out of a fairytale, isn't it?" Fyodor's voice, a low and melodic timbre, resonated with the joy of the season.

You nodded, captivated by the radiance that enveloped the historical landmark. The lights seemed to pirouette in harmony with the delicate snowflakes that floated gently from the night sky, creating an ethereal dance of winter wonder.

Fyodor, his gloved hand still entwined with yours, led you through the snow-covered cobblestones, each step revealing a new tableau of luminous beauty. The avenues of Moscow glittered with a tapestry of lights, like celestial pathways guiding you through the heart of the city's festive spirit. The meticulous arrangement of lights on trees, lampposts, and buildings painted a landscape that seemed plucked from a dream.

The journey continued to Gorky Park, where the frozen lake reflected the brilliance of the lights like a mirror. The towering trees, now adorned with a kaleidoscope of colors, stood as silent witnesses to the festive transformation. Fyodor guided you towards a charming carousel, its lights casting a warm glow against the snowy canvas. Whimsical music and the laughter of children added to the symphony of the holidays.

As you and Fyodor boarded the carousel, the world around you transformed into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of lights and laughter. The crisp air, laced with the scents of hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts, heightened the sensory experience. Fyodor's eyes met yours, a silent promise of shared joy and the magic that lingered in the moment.

The night unfolded as a captivating exploration of Moscow's neighborhoods, each one vying to outshine the other in a dazzling display of lights. Fyodor, his arm wrapped around you protectively, shared tales of Moscow's Christmas traditions and folklore, infusing the journey with cultural richness.

The grand finale awaited at the historic Bolshoi Theatre. The monumental building, a symbol of artistic excellence, now stood adorned with a cascade of lights that accentuated its architectural grandeur. Fyodor, a mischievous glint in his eyes, led you towards the entrance. As you ascended the grand staircase, the lights dimmed, and the façade of the theatre became a canvas for an enchanting light show.

Colors danced across the intricate details of the building, synchronized with festive melodies that echoed through the night. Fyodor, his expression a mix of satisfaction and delight, watched your reactions with unabashed joy. The lights, now painting the night sky with vibrant strokes, encapsulated the very essence of the season.

As the light show reached its crescendo, Fyodor turned to you with a tender smile. "Merry Christmas, my love," he whispered, his voice a warm embrace in the winter night.

The evening, a symphony of lights and shared moments, etched itself into the tapestry of your memories. Moscow, draped in its festive best, became the canvas for a magical journey orchestrated by Fyodor, your companion in this winter fairytale. The Christmas lights, now etched in your heart, whispered tales of love and enchantment as you and Fyodor embraced the magic of the season in the heart of Moscow's winter wonderland.

#bungou sd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs manga #bsd anime #bsd x reader #bungo sd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd spoilers #bungo stray dogs season 4 #bsd fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader

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baby--charchar · 10 months ago

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Baby Vaggie + Snack Time

So like I've said, I see Vaggie as being autistic and think that would factor into her regression. She has exactly 4 (...3) safe foods that she'll always agree to, including pupusas, rice, chicken nuggets from a specific brand, and water. She's also probably food aversive in her bigger headspace, but she may try to hide that more since she'd be masking. As a baby not needing to mask, she has no qualms about saying 'no' to unwanted food.

'Saying' may be a strong word. She's nonverbal in babyspace, so "chuck the plate at the wall and run away" is probably more accurate.

It worries Lucifer. Honestly. He worries over vitamins, he worries over protein and fiber, he worries over whether he made her enough food to keep her full. Charlie's always been such a little foodie. Even regressed, she loves trying new things! He's never really had a loved one like Vaggie to look after, and he's scared he's doing it wrong. He's certain he's neglecting her by not giving her enough.

So he sets off to try to find more foods to offer little Vaggie! Fruit? ...no. Oatmeal? Yuck. Mac and cheese? Never. She either won't come near him if he's holding something for her to try, or she rips the plate out of his hands and slams it on the ground, making a huge disgusting mess. Not once does she bring herself to try anything.

He means well. He just wants to avoid upset tummies for her. But it's stressing her the fuck out. Every time she slips into babyspace, he wants to get her to try something new. But no!!! She hates all the foods!!! It gets to the point where Baby Vaggie starts throwing tantrums whenever she starts feeling hungry, just anticipating a fight.

Well no, see, NOW Lucifer fucked up. Now she won't even eat her safe foods if he's the one who makes it because she can't trust him. He feels just horrible.

Eventually he and Vaggie need to have a talk when she's not regressed, with Charlie mediating. With a really thorough explanation on sensory issues, plus some tough love, they're able to convince Lucifer that backing off with the food thing is how he can support Vaggie best. Not by forcing it.

He completely stops trying to force the food issue. He understands why it was harmful for Vaggie. But secretly...he doesn't actually feel BETTER. He's still so scared that Vaggie's not getting enough and that he's making her sick by underfeeding her. He thinks he just can't win as her caregiver. But he LISTENS to her and stops. And that matters the most to Vaggie.

One day, by chance, Baby Vaggie toddles over to the kitchen counter and starts messing around. Lucifer is so wrapped up in what he's doing that he doesn't notice her at first.

She found an apple pie. Cooled thankfully, so it won't burn her. But a big, beautiful baked pie he made to surprise Charlie later.

He looks over and there's Vaggie just having the time of her life destroying it. She loves the smell and the *SQUISH* of squeezing it in between her little fingers. He starts to react but...just gives up. It's too damn late to stop her. He sighs, feeling defeated.

But her laugh is pretty contagious. The goof ball's smeared pie everywhere. Across the counter, in her hair, on her pajamas. Kid's just a walking disaster and is having too much fun to realize it. He can't stay mad at her. In fact, he comes over to join in. He draws little pictures and scribbles in the muck with her, and makes silly "SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!" noises when he crushes the sliced apples on the counter. Vaggie cackles from all the energy.

Vaggie goes to wipe the drool off her lips with the back of her hand, and Lucifer notices she's smeared a big glop of syrup across her face. Across her mouth. Her little pink tongue just barely pokes out of her mouth in curiosity. Lucifer pauses and holds his breath.

She cringes and spits on the floor. Yuck.

But...the baby's tried it...! The baby tried some new food! Lucifer is delighted!

"OH you little sunshine! You little duckie, I'm so proud, you're so brave!" He goes on cooing at her until she's just sick of it. But! His babyest baby girl did a thing! Tried a new thing! On her own terms and in her own time! It's just one tiny little thing but it means the world to him because she means the world to him!

He starts brainstorming more food they can play with. More smearing! More sensory! More messes! More fun! Get his baby all the fun!!!

Charlie comes home and nearly faints at the sight of the kitchen, which is absolutely trashed. They're both walking disasters.

#hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel agere #cg!lucifer #little!vaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #vaggie #autistic agere #sfw agere #moral of the story: dont force us autistics just make us feel safe and secure and ya never know #maybe well feel safe enough to try something new with you

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hutahuta · 1 year ago

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Thinking ab Pavia and his sweet tooth! He def takes his gf/partner out for gelato dates. What do you think his reaction would be if his gf made him a homemade dessert? Cute idea that maybe he’s been like “hmm where has she been going these past few days, she comes home late” and then he walks into the house and it is revealed she has been taking baking classes to make him something he’d like ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

P.AGE OO.7 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

fem!reader x pavia || baking desserts ::

hLEPDM THIS IS SO CUTE ARGHGGJ making cookies for my love, I stir and mix ‼️ ty for requesting buty beloved

The kitchen is typically a cozy space that you found yourself drowning your thoughts out. A space adorned with the warmth of flickering oven light and the comforting hum of a mixer. There are shelves lined with various ingredients—flour, sugar, cocoa, and an assortment of spices—creating a vibrant palette for culinary creations. Countertops are adorned with mixing bowls, spoons, and trays of freshly baked goods cooling off, infusing the room with a sense of anticipation. The atmosphere is filled with joy, as you meticulously prepare his favorite treats, sharing not only delightful sweets but also warmth, love, and a sense of home.

You recall a time during one of the many dates you had together, Pavia would mark a question that highlighted at the back of your head which initially started this whole ordeal.

" You know, amore. I wish to try more than one flavour.. If I could, I'd bring you the finest desserts of Piemonte. "

More than one dessert? He deserves it. He works hard, day in, day out. So you made it a personal goal to set yourself a deadline to create a few sweets that can be savoured to share between the two of you. Cupcakes, Panna Cotta, Cannoli, Tiramisu.. Oh my, you knew he'd adore Tiramisu.

Weakly, you picked up the spoonful of batter and took a deep inhale of the sweet aroma that infiltrated your mind with a warm sense of joy. You knew what you were doing.

The recipes you could learn from the basic cookbook didn't offer you much help, but you did the best you can. The classes you took, though.. God, it helped a lot. From the moment you started, from the final touches you added to the batter as of right now; you can't help but admire how far your skills had advanced throughout the months. The skilful use of your fingers pinching and twisting the desserts to create a beautiful swirl, the mix of saltiness and sweetness drizzled into every bite one would take inside of the soft filling; you considered to think of yourself to feel as though you were truly a chef.

Even so, you'd ponder in the back of your head if he'd always wonder where on earth you'd be biding your time. That the worry settles in through the depths of his mind that he can't help but weigh the feeling of you potentially.. distancing yourself from him? Questions would probably plague his mind, had he thought, what did he do? Was it something he said to you before? You planned to explain all of it later, but you knew him well. You knew how he'd overthink quite so often.

Even if you'd been late going back home, it's all worth it.. It's thought that counts, right? Regardless, Pavia always told you that any act of thoughtfulness bespeaks a profound commitment, an investment of time, skill, and meticulous attention to detail, all orchestrated to fashion a sensory delight. So the thought of your worries of him being hurt in the process of your surprise was suppressed at the back of your head. Whatever though.. You knew he never had the time to do fluffy baking with you, but what if you made these yourself? What's more homey than to have a loving girl such as yourself welcome a tired man back to his safe space? A serene thought that make your head swirl with all sorts of concerts that spiralled down into something so deeply fuzzy and admirable..

" Hm.. More sugar? " You asked, quietly mumbling to yourself. Adding more wouldn't spoil the flavour, right?

" He won't mind. " You chuckled thereafter.

The concoction of these delectable treats isn’t merely a culinary endeavor; it’s a soulful expression, an artful symphony that harmonizes flavors, textures, and aromas to compose an edible testament of love. The careful selection of ingredients, the rhythmic blending, and the transformative process within the oven embody the care and consideration invested in the act. Or, that's what you would like to think anyway.

Yet, a soft click ticked in the chains of the door. Maleficent who firmly guarded themself near the entrance let out a quiet whimper that had you peeking your head to wonder if that is who you truly think it is? But the moment you looked down, you realised how dirty you'd become with the flour staining your apron and hands.

" [ Name ] ! I'm home! You're here, no? " Pavia's firm voice had you suddenly unfasten the knot on the back of your apron, throwing it elsewhere before you quickly checked the time on the antique clock at the back. Shit, what time was it? Did Pavia arrive before 10?

You stared at the soft ticks chipping away at the time, noticing how the vintage wallpaper that started to show marks of the cracks wearing in slowly.

You made a mental note to make sure to fix that later.

" [ Name! ] "

Oh, right. You still have time to clear everything away before—

A head slowly peeled out of the corner, the soft licks of Andrea heaping at bare skin of your ankles make you uncontrollably giggle as Pavia followed your voice into the kitchen.

" Something does smell wonderfully sweet. Dear cucciola.." He warmly pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. Suddenly, you witnessed him pause in his tracks to address the sudden situation caving into his mind, trying to piece in every piece of the missing puzzle engraved in his brain.

" But what the hell is this mess, though?.. " His eyes darted towards the counter that littered with sprinkles full of flour and icing peppered across the edge of your fingertips. The stern tone made you quietly snort, immediately casting your gaze away from him.

" N-Nothing, I didn't expect you to come home so early. "

" Likewise. " He stated, bluntly, still taking a good look around the kitchen to see how your quiet, timid self leaned against the counter-top in a sudden weary feeling of dread weighing down in your stomach.

" Ah.. "

You opened your mouth to speak, yet, you couldn't help but stare at him contently for a brief second. How on earth can you possibly tell him that you'd have been spending your time trying to learn how to make simple desserts yet also complex patterns to make them look somewhat luxurious ? You knew he loved the fancy food, but always thought it was a waste to enjoy something once and never have it again. So why not make them so he doesn't have to necessarily waste his money on fancy desserts? Even though this man made thousands.

" Ha.. Alright, you got me. " You raised your hands. Pavia raised his eyebrows at this with the quiet smile lingering in the back.. " You ruined the surprise though.. I expected you to be back home much more later than expected.. "

" Got off the job early today, amore. But, do tell.." He paused, almost in disbelief from the way you seemed to mark his eyes darting left and right to his kitchen being in somewhat of a complete mess.

" Are you.. baking? " He murmured, taking your warm, icing dipped hands into his own cold palms without even having to look at you. You knew Pavia wasn't too mad, (thankfully), but it made you feel quite.. appreciated in some way. Like you could almost tell how he adored the way your smaller figure could even muster such a task to make something as adorable as this?

On the other side of the table, though, it was purely kept clean for the sake of showcasing the desserts in order of height. You remember delicately choosing which place to put each one of them in, from descending or ascending order? Whichever never mattered to you, but now you think about it, arranging them into groups that settled with each other in colours would've been the more suitable order.

" A-Ah..Ha. Well, yeah. I just thought I might do something nice for you. You mentioned quite a while back you wanted to try something new, right? "

" Yes, but I never thought you'd take it quite.. literally. Jesus f*cking Christ, [ Name. ] " The man hastily pressed several kisses against your knuckles, tasting the icing into his own lips before he chuckled quietly to kiss your own. You never had a chance to even say anything before he started confining heated kisses into your face and arms.

" Why do you do such things? What did I ever do to deserve this, amore? " He chuckled softly the moment he pulled away, leaning into your ear to have his warm breath tickle the sensitive area within you. It's as if one part of him felt so relieved that you weren't up to some shady business. He trusted you, wholeheartedly. But could one possibly blame him for having sudden doubts when he thought you might be slowly trying to leave?

"Ha, don't answer that. Your actions speak so dearly.. And your eyes speak the truth of your devotion for me, huh? " And he remembered. He always remembers. All of this was for him. So if you did this, there's no other human or arcanist, be it man or woman or person, who would ever dare to replace you.

This is all your work. Your art. And Pavia guiltily admired every bit of it.

He murmured praises between shaky breathes, unable to stop peppering your lips with eager kisses that may leave you spiralling into madness full of eternal joy. But then, he sighed to let out a quiet mumble, looking directly at you in the face. " Was this why you were so—..?"

" Distant? Yes.. I took the remaining week to partake in some..uh— classes. Sorry.. I didn't mean to come off across as me trying to lea—" Your words, instantly cut off by the touch starved puppy of a man pressing his own body against yours; lips latching onto one another as his previous kisses continued to spill tales of how desperately in love he is with you.

" Jesus Christ, Pavia. " You closed your eyes..

" You did this for me, huh? " He trembled. The warmth of your cheeks heated up, his body starting to succumb into the rising temperatures that combated against the bitter coldness that sunk into his skin like ant bites.

You nodded, sheepishly. The mess was an embarrassment to say the least, but by the gods, if you could, you would describe how utter gratitude wafted over his face, eyes glimmering under the light of the bulbs that flicked a couple of times then and there. He didn't care about the mess anymore, but what he couldn't take his eyes off were the humble sweets you took your own time, money, and effort into making purely for the sake of his satisfaction.

And by the heavenly gods, was he satisfied.

" Come.. Let us clean this space and enjoy your creations, my dear. You truly spent this week to devote it purely for me..? " He still spoke in disbelief, unable to contain the inner childish words that wanted to latch onto this woman and giggle around like a boy that just found a few cents off the ground to buy an ice cream.

You guided yourself to rinse off the icing and batter staining your hands before you sighed to turn around to see your own beloved fawn over at how adorably cute these small treats were. Some were easy, some were as difficult as they looked. Andrea pressed their paws against the counter, equally as hungry as he had looked. The similarities between the two determined the reason as to why you'll forever stick with him and his kin. You are truly his angel, and for this simple gesture, Pavia promises, mentally, that he'd repay all of this back tenfold.

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