#hurt/comf

[levans44]

Damage Control - Chapter 10

She remembers the first time she was here, during her first Friday night in college. Having arrived in a new city in a new state, she wouldn’t have survived her first semester without her building’s RAs, who had introduced her to some of the best eateries around campus. This was one of her personal favorites—a cute little Thai place a few blocks away from her old apartment. After a particularly bad test or whenever she was feeling down, a cardboard takeout box stuffed with chicken Pad Thai from this place never failed to cheer her up.

Now, sitting in one of the window booths of the restaurant 7 years later, it all felt a lot smaller than how she remembered it. But then again, that could have also been because of the 6-feet-tall giant sitting across from her. Thankfully, they had arrived at a time when the restaurant wasn’t bustling with hungry college students and Postmates couriers, so their order was out in under 10 minutes.

With two steaming dishes of stir-fried noodles between them, she slips out the little red notebook out of her purse and sets it down on the table.

“Before we eat, I need you to explain something.”

Steve looks nervously at her as she flips through the book before reaching the very back. With a satisfied grin, she rotates the notebook toward him and slaps it down on the table.

“I didn’t know you could draw!”

Steve groans, putting his face in his hands. “I don’t.”

“That is a lie.”

“It’s just… something I used to do.” He scratches the back of his neck, looking rather flustered.

During all of her researching and reading at Damage Control, the fact that Captain America liked to draw never came up once. The newly discovered fact was so endearing she could hardly hide her fondness over it.

She flips through the pages, looking up at him in awe “Steve, these are really good. Did you study art?”

“Yeah, I went to arts school for a while.”

She does a double take, eyes the size of saucers. “You what?”

“Auburndale arts.” He smiles softly, glancing down. "Never graduated, though”

“Why not?”

He shrugs, a heavy sadness in his shoulders. “There were more important things going on. I uhm…”

He clears his throat, before continuing. “I started trying to enlist around that time.”

She could tell that he had wanted to say something else instead, and wanted to ask what it was, but chose against it.

Instead, she purses her lip and nods, leaning back in her seat. “Well, that’s still… impressive.”

“Thanks” A sheepish smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes a sip of his water. It was only after he clears his throat, glossy eyes flitting up at the ceiling for a brief second, that she figures out what he had wanted to say instead—his mother, Sarah Rogers, had passed from tuberculosis when Steve was 20. Right around when he would have registered for art school.

I know how hard it is to lose someone.

She blinks, shifting in her seat, before taking a breath and straightening up.

“Well, you’ll have to draw me sometime, like one of your French girls.”

“What?”

His confusion makes her frown, before she lets out a loud laugh upon realizing that he had no clue what she was referencing.

She slides the notebook across the table, and he stares at it, trying to decipher what she found so amusing.

As his eyes flit back up to meet hers, she hands him his pen, smiling so hard her cheeks were starting to hurt.

“We gotta add one more thing to your list.”

“Whew, best meal I had in a while.” Captain America pats his stomach as he follows her out of the restaurant.

“Right? Amazing.”

“Yeah. Much better than anything we had in my time.”

"Well that was nothing, there's still so mu-"

Just then, a notification sounds from Steve’s phone, and he fishes it out of his pocket to check the screen. It makes her realize that she had just taken Captain America out for lunch, when he’s probably due for a million other commitments.

“Oh, if you have to go, I totally get it, I—”

“—no, no, we're good. Got another hour or so.”

She pauses, his reassuring smile slowing down her brain before it goes into overdrive.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” He nods before stopping to take a breath, squinting under the mid-day sun as he glances around at the landscape around them. Though they were still technically in the midst of Manhattan, they were now situated within a college quad. The robust greenery and glass-covered research buildings were strangely serene, somehow shielding them from the bustling city outside. They watched a few students throw around a frisbee on one of the lush green patches, others reading on lounge chairs or chatting as they made their way to class.

“This is your old college campus, isn’t it?”

It takes her a little while to break out of her nostalgia before she can respond.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“… mind if I ask for a tour?”

She looks up at him, a little surprised, but the smile on his face is unreadable.

“Ok, uh… what do you wanna see?”

He shrugs, adjusting his cap over his head. “Whatever you wanna show me.”  

“Well, we could start here… at the engineering quad.” She follows the small white stone pathway, headed toward the center of the campus.

“I used to be an engineering major, believe it or not.” She mutters quietly, letting out a small snort.

At that, Steve quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head to look at her.

“Oh yeah? Tell me more about that.”

She smiles, returning for a brief moment to the curious and wide-eyed sophomore she used to be. All she had wanted back then was the intern job at Stark Industries, to work for the Tony Stark. If only her 20-year-old self had known what she knew now.

She tells him small, insignificant stories from her college days, the ones she’s never though she’d come to reminisce—the spot she tripped over while running late to an exam, or the time she and her friends got drunk and highjacked a golf-cart, driving all the way across campus before being discovered by security. Steve listens in with genuine interest in his eyes, occasionally offering her a smile or a small comment. It made her feel as though her trivial experiences actually meant something.

Soon enough, they had reached the center of the campus, where a giant, bronze statue of the school’s founder stood, with the alma mater etched into the pedestal.

Veritas vos Liberabit.

The truth will set you free.

Funny thing, the truth. To her, it had long been lost. Around the same time that the eager spark within her—to help, to serve, to find the truth—had flickered off.

She gazes silently as young students and their families take turns standing in front of the statue, smiling excitedly for the camera.

If she had made her graduation, could all this have made her that happy? Would they have stood here for a photo, holding tightly to each others’ hands as they both smiled wide for the camera?

“She would have been so proud.”

His quiet remark interrupts her thoughts, ripping through her like a hot flame. She feels her stomach drop, tears immediately stinging in her eyes.

He remembered.

Her feet freeze to the ground—she finds herself unable to move, unable to breathe. Not even able to turn and look at him when she can feel his steady gaze on her.

He fucking remembered.

Eyes glued to a single spot on the statue’s pedestal, she desperately tries to control her breathing, feeling the lump in her throat press down on her airway like a heavy rock.

“You alright?” He asks softly from beside her, gaze still on her.

She couldn’t believe he fucking remembered.

She flinches as she feels a warm hand brush against her cold knuckles, eyes glancing up. She blinks, shaking her head though her answer is affirmative.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

She clears her throat, blinking the last of the tears out of her eyes before she suddenly reaches for him, grabbing him by the arm. He lets her push him in front of the statue, retreating a few steps before staring back at her, confused.

“Wha-”

Before he can get another word out, she grabs her phone and snaps a few photo of him. She checks the photo, satisfied at the dumbfounded look on his face, her alma mater standing proudly behind him. She feels the lump in her throat melt a little, letting out a small giggle as she giddy scrolls through the photos. Just a fun souvenir, she figures. Plus, she knew Tony would kill to get his hands on these photos.

Before she can look up to survey Steve’s reaction, she hears a woman’s voice approach her from behind.

“Oh how sweet! Are you two visitors? Would you like me to take a photo of the both of you?”

“Oh, n-” She’s quick to shake her head before she’s suddenly interrupted by Steve, who swoops in from behind her, hand gently skimming her upper back.

“Yes, please.” He smiles innocently, handing the woman his phone before pulling her in front of the status alongside him. He pulls her in close by the waist as she nudges his side, elbow digging not-so-subtly into his stomach. She glares up at him, but his gaze is fixed forward, flashing his pearly-whites. Before she can stop herself, a smile starts bubbling through the surface. She slowly lowers her elbow, trying not to focus on the way his fingers were resting above her hip as she looks up at the camera.

The woman crouches low, bringing the phone close to her face.

3, 2, 1, smile!

Damage Control Masterlist

#mcu #mcufic #mcu fic #marvel mcu #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america smut #hurt #angst #hurt/comf #fluff #romance #eventual fluff #eventual romance #eventual smut #smut #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers

[serickswrites]

Undercover

Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: gunshot wound, blood, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Caretaker took careful steps with Whumpee so as to not jostle the bullet wound in their hip. 

“It’s just a graze, Caretaker, I’ll be fine,” Whumpee groaned as Caretaker stopped suddenly. “No need to be too careful.”

Caretaker shook their head as they carefully guided Whumpee to the exam table in the med bay. “A bullet wound is a bullet wound. Now, where are my shears?”

“Please don’t cut off my pants, Caretaker. I like these ones.” Whumpee pouted as they started to move and couldn’t due to the pain. 

“Your pants are ruined anyway. And I need to treat this wound. You’re always coming back from missions injured.”

“I’ve had worse, Caretaker. Much worse.” Whumpee lay back against the table as they let Caretaker do whatever. 

“And that’s why I worry, Whumpee. One of these days I might not be able to put you back together again.” Caretaker didn’t look at Whumpee as they said the last. 

Whumpee put a bloodied hand on top of Caretaker’s stopping Caretaker’s careful ministrations. “I always come back to you, Caretaker. Don’t worry. Always have. Always will.”

Caretaker looked into Whumpee’s eyes, all their fear filling them, “But you can’t promise that, Whumpee.”

Whumpee shook their head and gave Caretaker’s hand a squeeze. “I can. And I will always come back to you. Always.”

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw gunshot wound #tw blood #hurt/aftermath #hurt/comfort #hurt/recovery #caretaker and whumpee #amow #amow march-trope-a-thon #day 3 #prompt: spy/military #comf prompt: patching up a wound #queue

[pocket-prosecutor]

dads after they do one (1) task: slepe

line version under the cut:

#wanted to include the lineart only as well bc i cant decide if i like it better with or without colours #wereshifter miles au #g/t #gt #aa gt #aa g/t #art tag #:] #me thinking/talking abt wereshifter au: angst and hurt working towards comfort #me posting art abt wereshifter au: comf :] #i considered printing this somehow and tracing it back on paper so I could use my markers #but i dont own a printer #well i mean they didnt do a task that was just a joke abt dads to emphasise their dad energy #they fell asleep on the couch together at 10pm #Trucy walks in on them and decides to leave them there #which reminds i need to bring trucy into this au more #she's also there of course im an avid believer of miles and phoenix living together at some point to be Dads for Trucy #also this angle was so much fun to work with now you can rly see the size difference #sometimes a tiny doesnt look as tiny when you zoom in all the way but man #even at 8 inches which is pretty tall for a tiny it's still....so tiny #me: makes miles tiny #miles: is very tiny #me: surprised pikachu

[heywoodvirgin]

Ivy’s unrequited love

A year passed by, she still looks at him and he still looks away... 

( it’s so hard to find a nice angle/ pose / expression to show emotions in an unmodded game, but I do my best) 

#unrequited feelings #Ivy and Jackie #Chooms but #hurt no comf #this is Ivy #nomad v #jackie welles #hurts me but I love it #poor baby #screenshots #gaming #virtual photography #screencaps #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #mina plays cyberpunk 2077

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Please do the icon draw of Wes being hugged. I would pay for that *(i have like, a dime to my name rn)

I plan on doing it eventually! I'm currently sketching out this week's Wesgoesbrr though (and obviously pain takes priority 😌💛)

#me: no comf for you only hurt #two pages a week really does me in sometimes but i have a need to keep it going so i dont lose any threads #also the wes sideplot was intiallly 8 pages but now I'm thinking ill end it at 10 and im happy with it #anon #SOON I SWEAR

[corecataclysm]

.

#what is love. #(baby dont hurt me #no more) #no fr like is it just wanting 2 do wverything woth someone. is it wanting to see both of u grow as ppl bc pf knowing each other #is it caring about the other persons safety #is it wanting to make sure theyre never hurt or in pain #is it wanting to spend time w em or is that just friendhsip #arghhgg #my close friendships are all full of shit that couples do so i . dont know yhe difference #is this what actually trustings omeone slash being genuinely comfy w them feels like #like is this normal feelings for friends #am i just deprived of trusting other ppl / feeling comf around other ppl that i assume its love #thats prolly it but #how do k know if we’d be better friends or like. daying #dating** #obviously im. i just met this person so #but #idk!!! #something something guys are so deprived of actual affection that when they get it from a girl they fall for her #LOL #therapy fodder

[sigmalewife]

BSD characters with a idol s/o

Characters: Sigma, Bram, Dazai, Yosano, Chuuya, Kyoka, Fukuzawa.

Note: The Kyoka part can be read as platonic or romantic, the reader is explicitly of the same age as her in that part.

Cw: Mentions of diets (be careful!), minor injuries and obsessive fans.

Reminder that english is not my first language, sorry for the spelling mistakes.

gn!reader

Sigma.

• He loves your music :(

• Sigma can't go always to your presentations for his job in the casino, but he always make sure to let you know how proud he is of you!

• Sometimes he would be making paperwork until late at night, super stressed, but then you make a live for all your fans and everything becomes better. He leaves the live playing on his phone, as if it were background noise, and he stops feeling so alone in the office.

• (Although sometimes he gets distracted, thinking in how pretty your laugh sounds.)

• Sigma buys every merchandise of yours that exists.

• Even the not official.

• He often asks for fanart commissions from his favorite artists who are also fans of yours. Sigma believes in fandom solidarity!!!

Bram.

• Definitely was Aya who introduced him to your music.

• Just imagine that was one songs of yours that Aya put on play on that scene of the MP3. He's obsessed.

• Bram make sure of upload every song you make it, even the demos.

• After of a presentation, he would take the tea with you. Talking about the details. If you are in a group, he's more than happy to gossip about them.

• He learned the entire lighticks and fanchats system. Bram has it memorized as if it were very important ancestral knowledge.

• Bram it's so disappointed when he don't get your photocards. Definitely makes Aya buy other album.

Dazai.

• I hate him. He's such a lucky mf.

• The type of fan that always get the photocard he wants, and sometimes he thinks "hm, yeah, wouldn't be cool if y/n makes a collaboration with x singer" AND THEN YOU RELEASE THAT SONG DON'T EVEN KNOWING THAT HE WANTED THAT.

• Dazai is always there in your concerts, he loves seeing how your shine, with a crown screaming your name. Makes him feel so proud.

• The type of boyfriend that is always in the backstage, drying your tears when you feel that you didn't so good as you expected :(

• If he finds out that you're being harassed by some obsessive fan it's over. Dazai it's gonna make them pray for forgiveness.

Yosano.

• She adores you. I definitely can see her calling you cutie patootie, lmao.

• Yosano it's always showing you off to the rest of the ADA. What I can say? She just loves talk about you.

• You two go shopping together, and when a fan recognizes you Yosano put a hand in your waist, being alert to the other person's intentions to you.

• She can't use her ability with you, but everytime you get hurt dancing or something she personally takes care of you. Her hands are so soft when she bandage your feet.

• Same as Bram, Yosano LOVES gossip with you. She knows dirt of half industry just because you.

• Yosano takes pics of you being comfy/random in private and then edits them to when your fans see them, they get desperate trying to guess if it's you or not, lol.

Chuuya.

• He's like the best boyfriend for a idol. If you don't consider his job, of course.

• Chuuya can't go always to your presentations, but he's always on the phone, making sure your feeling good. He is very good at calming you down when you feel nervous.

• Takes you out in his motorcycle in a night ride when you need some inspiration for your songs.

• He have every album, but his favorite merchandise it's a plushie of you. He sleeps with it when you aren't in home for your tour.

• Chuuya it's also a bit unsure of his body, so when you are sad because you think you need lose weight, he's not gonna be hard to you (but with your agency/fans)

• He will use his free time to workout with you, it's like a personal trainer. But Chuuya loves most run with you at night, specially in the beach.

Kyoka.

• You are her comfort artist.

• Kyoka has been your fan since Atsushi took her out on that "date" and she saw you in the TV of an arcade.

• She loves how happy your look dancing and singing. The fact that you're almost her same age makes her feel closer to you.

• The ADA member starts to give her your merch in special events when they discovered that she was your fan.

• Now Kyoka have some albums and a plushie that she always sleep with.

• When you both become closer, Kyoka it's so happy to do normal teenage things with you. With the other, you both can feel more normal. No need to act.

Fukuzawa.

• Cat dad loves you !

• He MELT when he sees you with car ears.

• Fukuzawa loves the soft themed songs. Romantic ballads are his favorites.

• Soft man that hums your songs when his working.

• Fukuzawa always makes sure that your don't overwork. He pats your head and takes the afternoon tea with you.

• When you come back exhausted after a presentation, Fukuzawa gives you the best massage ever. He definitely knows these grandma secret medicines that will make you feel like a new person.

• Not really into buy merch, but Fukuzawa have a little keychain. He loves it, specially because it's a chibi version of you cat themed.

#ninu blog 🌱 #sigma x reader #bram x reader #dazai x reader #yosano x reader #chuuya x reader #kyoka x reader #fukuzawa x reader #sigma headcanons #bram headcanons #dazai headcanons #yosano headcanons #kyoka headcanons #fukuzawa headcanons #bsd #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #sigma bsd #bsd bram #bsd dazai #bsd yosano #bsd chuuya #bsd kyoka #bsd fukuzawa #bungou stray dogs #bsd manga spoilers

[strwberri-milk]

Streaks of Vermillion

Rafayel x Reader || Hurt/Comf || 1, 238 words

a/n: uhh i finished the myths for rafa and thought this thing up and its has referenced death of reader but youre not acc dead i promise its all the set up hurt/comf/rafa feeling so many Things for you

Oh God what he would give to stop seeing that colour on you.

To the God of the Sea, this is the happiest day of his life.

And when he kisses her, he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved.

It couldn’t have been better if he willed it. The sight of you standing in front of him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you playfully scold him to not try dropping you into the crystalline azure beneath your feet. He can barely hear it with the blood rushing through his ears, the angelic notes of your voice brushing against him like seaweed against his fingertips.

To surrender his heart to you is a happy thing, he thinks. It wouldn’t change things, not at all. You’ve held his heart in your hands since the day he met you. Your fingers brushed against the surface of his being, shallow ripples drawing the attention of an ever curious younger him. The only thing he knows with confidence from that moment forward was how to love you.

It’s why he’s deluding himself that your voice in his ear isn’t slowly getting weaker, tears staining the side of his throat simply just tears of joy. You were happy, weren’t you? You told him as much constantly, reminding him that he is – no, was – your saviour. It’s why he pretends your normally secure grip on him is loosening, fingers trembling against his shoulders in a way he knows isn’t pleasure.

The hot release of your body coats his fingers, lithe hands unable to turn wrists in the way that you need him to. Instead, he holds you tightly, muttering affectionate words into your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me.”

“Just hang on, just a little longer.”

“That’s it, just like that.”

They burn his throat coming up, butterflies in his stomach pounding incessantly against skin and bone – maybe they’re scales now, he can’t tell.

You gasp in response, a pathetic sounding whimper ringing out and making his stomach drop.

“Rafayel, please,” you plead, stuttering breaths pushing insistently against the column of his throat.

His hand is sticky, blood already beginning to dry in the arid temperatures of the desert. The blade penetrates your body, just shy of the heart you’ve returned to him.

He feels your hand come up to cup his cheek, a reassuring smile still on your face.

“I meant it when I said it Rafayel. My heart is yours. From this life to the next.”

Your body is cold to the touch. He can’t explain why. You were just fine earlier, smiling brightly at him as you tried to convince him to rest. Sunlight streams in through the windows and he thought the rays supposed to keep you warm.

He can’t understand why this is happening to him again, not here, not now.

Scarlet pools underneath your body, Rafayel’s eyes unable to see anything else. His breath catches in his chest, bile rising up in his throat and tainting his breath.

His arms go under your body, recoiling at how warm it is there. He feels your heat slowly dissipating, streaks of read marking his hands and your face. He wills himself not to lose focus, picking you up to try and get you some help. He feels the thudding of his heart pounding heavily against his chest, trying in vain not to throw up at the feeling in his stomach.

He can hear your voice calling to him. His name always sounds so pretty on your tongue and it’s all he can think about before he hears the loud thud of your body hitting the ground.

“Rafayel! What are you doing?!”

Your perplexed expression looks up at him from the ground. He watches you massage the side of your body that hit the ground, grimacing a little.

“Why are your hands so cold? And why didn’t you respond after I started hitting you?!”

“I…I was washing paintbrushes,” he replies numbly, faintly remembering getting up to try and organise some of his supplies.

“The water heater’s been acting up so all the water in the house is ice cold. I forgot.”

Vibrant hues of red and orange dye his room from the setting sun, painting your face and body in them. It takes his eyes a while to readjust to the vibrancy, shaky fingers wanting to reach out and hold you but he can’t be sure this is reality. He looks to his hands, clenching them into fists to try and restore some feeling into the stiff joints.

“Poor thing,” you coo, picking up on the change in his demeanour as you reach out to take his hands and try to warm them up in yours.

“You must be freezing. It’s like there was no blood running to your hands at all.”

You were horribly wrong. There was blood – far too much of it.

Silence envelopes the two of you, something Rafayel was beginning to forget when he found you again. You choose not to let it bother you too much, seeing the somber expression on his face. You’re not sure what to make of it, biting your lip as you try to find the right words to say to him.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” you try after a moment.

“About what?”

Rafayel’s long since turned his attention to an abandoned canvas in front of him. You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He stiffens in your hold for half a second before relaxing, exhaling deeply.

“You’re not normally that spaced out. Do you remember anything?”

He turns to face you for a brief second before looking back to the canvas. You can’t tell if his refusal to answer is because he’s genuinely forgotten or because he’s choosing not to answer you. You decide it’s the former and help him out.

“You were absolutely exhausted so I told you to go take a nap. Then I got tired so I laid down with you. I guess you woke up before I did and went back to your painting. Next thing I know you woke me up with a death grip around my body and proceeded to ignore me until I threw myself out of your arms and onto the floor.”

He remains silent and you find it a little foreboding. Rafayel’s chatty nature was something that endeared him to you. You know it’s a representation of his affection to you and the fact that he’s quiet always means he’s thinking about things. Despite the overly dramatic and whiney personality that Rafayel had you understood well that it was a cover for something he wasn’t yet comfortable enough telling you.

You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the smell of salt and paint mixed in with something unmistakably him. He leans into your touch, showing you that he heard you.

“Is that so?” he says after a bit, suddenly standing up and taking your hand in his.

You find yourself being taken back to his bed, quietly pushed against the sheets and pulled into his arms. You don’t miss the way his hand comes up to rest against your chest, Rafayel’s breath tickling your hair as he takes a deep breath.

“Did you have a nightmare or something?” you try again, ignoring the slight gnawing in your stomach of concern for him.

“Just thought about something I wish I could forget,” he mumbles, mind tiredly counting out the beating of your heart.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel

[opultea]

Helloooo your request are open right? Im sorry if its not. I just read your cuddling headcanons with GN who loves listening to heartbeat and my inner affection deprived self just— FSOAJALAKA *squeals*

Sooo im wondering if I can request headcanons about GN reader who's love language is physical affection and veryyy clingy and just crave physical affection 😨 Like they would literally die of loneliness because nobody hugs them at night (so me fr).

Maybe with Kaeya, kaveh, alhaitham, scaramouchie, tighnari, childe and diluc? ( If its too much then kaeya, scara and childe is enough.) Obvi fluff but i dont mind hurt/comf either :)

Sorry if this is too long, thank you!!

I'm happy to continue feeding you guys affection content, hope you enjoy!

Joint At The Hip

Genshin Men with a reader who's very physically affectionate ft. Kaeya, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Wanderer, Childe, Diluc - GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Fluff - SFW - Romantic

Kaeya

Ever since Lisa introduced you two, and you greeted him with a hug, he was amused by you

It wasn't too hard to believe that a friend of Lisa's was overly affectionate, but he still raised his eyebrow when you linked his arm in yours whenever you passed him in the street so you could say hello

Kaeya admits that he found it a little strange at first

Weren't you the least bit worried that if you were like this with everyone, someone would eventually take advantage of you?

Though even with these thoughts in the back of his mind, he mostly just allowed you to do as you pleased

He found it funny how you always seemed so happy attached to him like that

Although he never dared admit or show it, he had his reservations about someone so openly affectionate with him; a stranger

But it didn't take long for Kaeya to sink into your every hug and smile whenever you took his hand in yours

He quickly learnt that you had no bad intentions, so he soon moved past his nature to conceal and protect himself by wearing his mask

In fact, it wasn't long before Kaeya was being just as clingy as you, clutching your waist suddenly to sneak up on you, bringing his arm around your shoulders as you walked or sat together, and teasingly lifting your chin with his hand

And once the two of you finally started dating, oh boy

Mondstadt better watch out, the clingy couple just got even clingier

Alhaitham

Has compared you to a parasitic creature in his mind at least five times

He never thought it insultingly, more like a genuine analysis of what you might have been trying to get out of this behaviour

Were you trying to butter him up so you could access a confidential file in the archive? Were you trying to pull a prank on him? Did Kaveh set this up?

He once brought this thought up with you while you sat beside each other, reading, your head naturally on his shoulder. You were a little offended by his use of the term 'parasite', but ultimately found it kinda funny that he thought that way

You tried to shift his thinking by proposing that it's more like a symbiotic relationship than a parasitic one

"It's hardly symbiotic if I'm not getting anything out of this,"

"Yes, you are! Because you're touch starved,"

Alhaitham choked at the sudden declaration, bringing his fist to his mouth and turning his head subtly away

"I am not touch starved."

"Sure buddy,"

It took him leaving for two weeks on an expedition to the desert for him to realise how right you were

He was touch starved, and he missed you more than he would have liked to admit

Good thing you were too, because the moment Alhaitham returned to Sumeru City, you were all over him and he couldn't have been happier for it, although he didn’t show it in his facial expression

And when you hugged him with greater force than he expected, instead of standing still like he usually did, he hugged you right back, bringing you closer

You've officially converted him, he is now an honorary snuggle bug (only for you tho)

Kaveh

You're his saving grace

He feels like the luckiest man alive to be able to come home and just let you cuddle him back to life after a long day of signing off project papers and designing and redesigning houses

Any time Ahaitham is making life hard for him (all the time), Kaveh just huffs and walks away, with plans to go find you so that he can indulge in your warm and loving embrace for a while

The best part to him is that you never need to be prompted to touch him, you just do it on your own because you like it

This means you guys have the perfect synergised relationship, since you love giving Kaveh affection, and Kaveh loves receiving affection

Of course, this doesn't mean that Kaveh doesn't give you any affection, not at all

He returns all your tight hugs and soft kisses tenfold

So if you've ever had a bad day, Kaveh's always ready for a little role reversal

He'll sit you down on the couch and prepare his favourite rose and padisarah scented face masks, and press kiss after kiss to your head while they set

He'll never let his sweet clingy little angel get down in the dumps, so he'll always be reminding you that you're the light of his life, and that no matter what you think, he would never have gotten so far without your constant love encouraging and healing him

Wanderer

The two of you have been dating for ages, and yet he has still not gotten used to how cuddly you are

His abandonment issues aren't going away overnight, and so he still has a lot of trouble accepting that someone would want to love him, no matter how much he loves you

Even though this insecurity has mellowed from its previous manifestation as general misanthropy and hunger for power to call his own, he still struggles with accepting affection

This struggle manifests verbally most of the time, so prepare to be yelled at when you jump-hug him, even if his cheeks are going pink

He has his own way of admitting that he wants you to be close to him, usually in the form of an insult, but you've learnt to read between the lines

Whenever the two of you go out to the markets for groceries or to browse, you take his arm and press it to your chest, your own arms wrapped around while your head rested on his shoulder, he would call you out for being dumb enough to need to stick to him

"Of course you need to cling to me, you loser. Otherwise, you'll end up getting lost somehow if I let you stray even an inch away. So don't you dare let go."

He's actually pretty proud of how much you cling to him, anytime he sees another man looking at the way you hang off Wanderer's side when you're out, he smirks and holds his head a little higher

Honestly, kiss him when he does this it'll wash his smug facade right away and turn him red

Childe

Childe himself is a cuddly man, so he loves to have his energy reciprocated

Although, he has a tendency to turn affection into a competition

Let's say you just got home from work, and you approach your boyfriend with a big hug from behind, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your smile into his back

Well, he's going to see this as a challenge, and as always, challenge accepted.

Childe unlatches your arms from him and spins around quickly, before wrapping his own arms around you and picking you up, rapidly bolting to the couch to fling the two of you down. Before your surprise can wear off, he lays on his back and brings you on top of him, curling his whole body around yours

He then has the audacity to smirk at you as a "Beat that"

Although you're just happy to be snuggling with him at all

Overall he's just happy to be affectionate too

You're his favourite teddy bear, and whenever the two of you snuggle down to go to sleep he makes sure to pull you into his chest and rub his cheek against yours with a bright smile before he wishes you goodnight

Very indulgent of your affectionate habits because he has the same habits, it’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets you get away without his daily cuddle

Diluc

Your affectionate nature took him some getting used to, that’s for sure

In fact, for a while he was quite awkward around you, not really knowing how to deal with someone so touchy

And of course you did your best to respect his boundaries, even when all you wanted to do was throw yourself over his lap and hold his hands in yours, letting him know how much you cared about him in your own physical way

So when you became a couple, there was no stopping the build up of hugs that you had spent so long withholding

Diluc was a bit startled by the uptake in hand holding and arm linking in your relationship, but ultimately learnt that it was your way of expressing your love for him, and he appreciated that fully

He sometimes worries that he isn’t enough for you, considering his own lack of physical shows of affection, at least to the level that you provide

So he’s often surprised that you claim you want to stay with him, because for all he knew, you deserved better than someone that still didn’t quite know how to show you that they loved you to the moon and back

Once you become aware of this insecurity, you reassure him that physical affection is your way of showing love, but that he has his own ways as well. Ways that make you feel just as warm and appreciated

Diluc is glad to hear this, but will still actively work toward showing his love for you more often. It would be his greatest displeasure if you were unsatisfied in the relationship

#fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #no pronouns #gn reader #sfw #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #romantic #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x reader #kaeya genshin impact #kaveh x reader #Kaveh Genshin impact #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin wanderer #alhaitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #tartaglia x reader #Genshin Childe #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #genshin headcanons

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜 𝐹𝒪𝒪𝐿 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸

info ⭑ geto suguru x reader ﾉ 2.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ ex-boyfriend geto ﾉ band au ﾉ hurt/comfort ﾉ a wee bit angsty ﾉ some suggestive bits ﾉ reader is tipsy ﾉ ambiguous ending

note ⭑ hi! after writing this, i really wanna continue something with this band au geto! not sure if that means i'll be making this into a series. . . perhaps an anthology? idk! lmk if you'd be interested :3 happy reading !

the streets of tokyo during the late hours of the day are restless—especially here in shibuya. you’d think the bustling crowds, fast pace, and your slightly tipsy state would make it difficult to recognize anyone but the universe seems keen to prove you wrong recently.

because standing at the corner of the street you’re supposed to be turning at is him—the man you haven’t seen in nearly five months and didn’t plan on seeing any time soon.

the sight of geto makes you stop–or more accurately, stumble–in your tracks. you can’t help the way your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. it’s as if time slows for a couple of seconds in his distant presence. you can’t think straight and you aren’t sure if that’s because of him, too, or if you have the alcohol to blame for that.

regardless, when you finally regain cognitive function after what feels like an eternity, you’re able to tell yourself that you need to turn around and find another route home. unfortunately for you, the thought comes a second too late, geto spinning to face you just before you have the opportunity to turn on your heel. the brief moment of shared eye contact doesn’t stop you from trying to run for the hills, though you quietly curse yourself for getting caught in this predicament while you do so.

you hear the shout of your name from behind you, but you don’t dare come to a halt. your perseverance to escape is futile, made apparent by the newfound proximity of the familiar voice and the feel of fingers snaking around your wrist. you aren’t sure what possesses you to do so, but you quickly swing around to face the man hellbent on catching up to you. he seems just as surprised as you if the way his eyebrows shoot up is any evidence. 

“hey, wait—i come in peace.” geto raises his hands in mock surrender to show that he stands by his words.

you believe him. 

your fingers are cool as they brush against your forehead in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. there isn’t much you can think to say other than, “sorry, i just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“i gathered as much.” geto nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he knew this reunion–if it ever even happened–would be awkward, but the air between the two of you is so tense that he finds it a little hard to breathe. he clears his throat before continuing. “kind of looked like you were trying to avoid me though.”

“got me there,” you softly admit.

geto understands but he doesn’t relate. he’s been trying to get a hold of you since he landed back in japan last week and his efforts have been fruitless until now. running into you this way may have been a coincidence but geto doesn’t intend on squandering what just might be his one chance to tell you what has been nagging at his mind for the past few months. “look, i was hoping we could talk.”

the expression that paints your face upon hearing his request is apprehension. he can practically see the blinking red lights and hear the alarm bells going off in your head. and, as much as he hates to admit it, your worry makes sense. the last time he asked you to talk, he broke up with you.

“ten minutes—fifteen, max.” geto attempts to bargain. he hopes the limit on the time you have to spend with him will convince you to agree, to hear him out. it hurts, but after chewing on his cheek, he adds another condition that’ll work in your favor. “and after, if you don’t want to see me again, i’ll leave you alone for good.”

with as much effort as you’ve been putting into steering clear of geto since his return, you’d think his words would come as a comfort to you. they don’t, though. the feelings that surge within you at hearing them contradict your strict avoidance of geto up until this point. they make you confront the fact that you have wanted to see him and can’t stomach the thought of never seeing him again.

you’re taking a risk by doing so, but you nod.

“okay, let’s talk.”

the two of you end up at some park a little ways away from the city center—one where you can see the orangey-red leaves flutter through the air once they fall from the trees and watch the fountain in the pond shoot up water that rains back down. despite how pretty the scenery is, you can’t help but look at geto instead.

it’s been practically half a year since you last saw him. you’re sure he’s changed quite a bit since then but all you can focus on are the ways he’s stayed the same, the little parts of him that you missed while he was gone—like the dragon tattoo that snakes up his shoulder to his collarbone. seeing it floods your head with memories of when the two of you were together. mornings spent tracing the delicate lines with feathery touches, kissing up the ink and coloring the creature with love bites.

you almost flinch at the reminder. your plan wasn’t to revisit the past, at least, not those moments, but seeing the tattoo on display makes it almost impossible. it’s geto’s fault for wearing that stupid sleeveless hoodie. you drag your gaze up to meet the obsidian shards that are his eyes. “strange choice of attire for such a chilly night.”

he rubs his arm at your observation, a grin gracing his lips. “yeah, i didn’t plan on staying out for long.”

you know that you agreed to come with him, but even sitting on opposite sides of the same bench is proving to be overwhelming. so, instead of regarding his innocent statement as simply that, you view it as an out. “if you have somewhere you need to go or someone you’re supposed to meet, we can do this another time.”

“no way.” geto doesn’t let a beat of quiet pass before he speaks and shakes his head. “i finally caught you and i’m not letting you get away so easily.”

the confession stuns you to silence. there are a million thoughts bouncing off the walls of your skull right now–how this wasn’t a good idea, that you weren’t obligated to listen to what he wants to say–but the one that worms its way past the others and to the forefront is that his words are… romantic. it’s frustrating that you aren’t mad at him, especially when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that you should be.

it seems as though the feelings you tried so hard to bury are beginning to resurface.

you clear your throat. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“right,” geto starts, a hand coming up to scratch at his neck. his tongue pokes out from between his lips to poke at the metal hoops wrapped around them. they’re things he does when he’s nervous, like when he first asked you out on a date or when he’d tune his guitar while waiting to go on stage. you wonder what it is on his mind that has him so on edge. though, you aren’t sure if it’s your place to ask, to show concern like you used to, so you stay quiet.

“i guess i wanted to talk about how we left things,” he finally tells you.

you should have seen this coming, and maybe part of you–a part you were trying to ignore–did. there isn’t much more the two of you can discuss. there have been a lot of unspoken thoughts lingering on your mind since that night, ones that you never planned on letting see the light of day. you’ve gone so long sitting on your feelings; what’s the point in digging them up now?

“what more is there to talk about exactly?” you ask, crossing your arms—using them as a shield. “you broke up with me to go on tour and i told you that i understood—no hard feelings.”

geto is quiet across from you, but you can tell there’s something weighing on his mind, words on the tip of his tongue. a few moments of stillness pass before he spits it out. “i don’t think you mean that. not then and… not now.”

“what do you want me to say, suguru?” you toss your hands up in frustration. your voice has been low, controlled up until this point but rises with your question, with your growing irritation. does he want to humiliate you even more than he already has? your intention of continuing to sit on your feelings, to keep them hidden, is lost with the way words unknowingly spill past your lips. “that i was dumb for thinking that i was worth a little more effort to you? that i should have let go of you as easily as you did me?”

there’s a certain level of relief that comes with your words but they also open up a wound you’ve been trying your best to close. all the emotions you felt that night feel as raw as they did then, as though you’re reliving it all over again. 

the tears return, gathering at your lash line and threatening to fall but never rupturing the dam. the insecurity comes back, too. you can feel the ghost of a knife piercing your heart as you think about how it felt like he had chosen music over you. but who were you to ask him to reconsider—to think of you before his music, his dream?

tonight is turning out to be more than you can handle.

you’re about to stand, apologize for your outburst, and excuse yourself when geto speaks up.

“i didn’t let go of you—not really,” he quietly admits. his hand reaches up to his neck again, fingers twirling the loose hairs that happened to make it out of his bun. the action makes his words carry more truth and while you can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely, hearing them has an uncontrollable effect on you.

one of the tears you were adamant about not shedding until you were out of his sight rolls down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. “you don’t have to say that, it’s not going to make me feel any better.”

“i mean it, though, i do.” when you finally muster up the courage to meet his stare, his eyes tell you that what he said is the truth. his eyes have never lied. “i thought about you every day while i was on tour.”

the confession sends a pang to your heart. it clears up the fog of turmoil clouding your mind, although a haze of uncertainty lingers. does he mean that he missed you—the same way you’ve been hopelessly missing him?

you don’t have to aimlessly ponder, as geto continues.

“look, i asked you here because i wanted to tell you that i regret how i went about things. i thought about my choice–about you–a lot. and i realized a little too late that i owed us a chance. i was scared that we couldn’t handle long distance and that we’d both end up hurt but i never considered the possibility that it might have worked for us.”

geto unconsciously reaches for you, though when he realizes what he’s doing, he thinks better of it, letting his hand rest in his lap instead. just because he’s laying himself bare for you doesn’t mean the pain he’s caused has disappeared. besides, he still has one thing to say before you can even consider forgiving him.

his tongue glides across his lower lip, over the two silver hoops situated on either side. “i made a decision that both of us should have had a say in. i’m sorry.”

beyond the feelings of heartache and self-doubt, the thing you felt most that night was unheard—as if anything you could have thought to utter during that moment would have fallen on deaf ears. geto seems to have noticed that much, reflected on it and recognized his mistake. his apology, the acknowledgment of his fault, unchains the final weight that was tugging at your heart.  

you sniff and dab at the stray tears that have trickled down your face. “thanks for saying so. and… i forgive you.”

there’s a weight of his own that makes geto’s chest feel lighter upon hearing your words. from the minute he started rehearsing this conversation, he imagined that he’d damaged you to the point of being unworthy of your compassion, your forgiveness. this is more than he could have asked for, even if you still choose to take him up on his offer of leaving you alone for good.

“i’m glad,” geto nods, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though he doesn’t let the short moment of happiness overtake him. “i know that was probably a lot and if you need to take some time to decide how you want us to proceed, if at all, i understand.”

you shake your head and the corners of geto’s lips fall into a neutral line. he made a good point earlier, one that you can’t ignore if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt the way you did before. and despite just learning about it, geto was hurting, too. if you can minimize the pain either of you have to experience, you will.

you clear your throat with hopes that your voice will come out steady. “i’d rather come to that conclusion together. since it has to do with both of us, y’know?”

geto’s shoulders slump as the tension seeps from them. “yeah. yeah, of course. whenever you’re ready.”

“we can start tonight if you have time,” you suggest, bashfully rubbing up and down your arms. it really feels like you’re starting over. before you knew his name, simply when you had a crush on the hot guy playing at the bar you were visiting for the night. “i want to hear about how your tour went.”

“okay,” geto easily agrees, the smile from earlier making its way back to his lips. it meets his eyes and the obsidian shards sparkle—with hope.

hi there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #jjk x you #geto drabble #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Who You Are Looking For

Follows directly after Kauri and Antoni’s fight

-

He knows it’s Jake at the door just from the sound of his knock. 

“Come in,” Antoni murmurs, sitting on his bed with his back to the wall, a book open in his lap. Light comes from the little lamp on his side table, his curtains drawn shut against any hint of the outside world. 

The door swings silently open, and he looks up to see Jake standing alone in the doorway. His eyes flicker behind the big man, but there’s no hovering Kauri, no telltale giveaway sniffles or whispering. Only Jake, who steps inside and closes the door behind him, the two of them entirely alone.

“Kauri?” Antoni can’t stop himself from asking, even though he still feels the buzz of unease and anger, died down but not quite gone.

Jake sighs. “He’s gone out.”

Antoni’s eyes drift closed, and he tells himself he doesn’t feel guilty. He shouldn’t feel guilty, because he didn’t do anything wrong. But like always, the knowledge that Kauri has run himself out into the night because of someone else’s words hurts more knowing those words were his. “I’m sorry-... I did not mean for him to feel so badly that he would do it again-”

“No. Don’t be. It’s not like that. I’m sorry, Ant, I didn’t say it right. He’s gone out with Chris. He’ll be okay. Chris is going to talk to him a little about the whole thing, Chris is, uh, better about that than I am, he knows how it some of it feels that I don’t. He’s not… it’s not going out out. Not like he used to. This is just to dinner. And even if he did go drinking or whatever, you shouldn’t be sorry for that, either. He’s a grown-ass man, he can make his own choices, even the shitty ones.”

“I did not mean to hurt him,” Antoni whispers. “I was only-... I did not mean-”

“I know, man.” Jake exhales and moves over, sitting at the other end of Antoni’s bed, giving him plenty of space. He shifts back until his own back is against the wall, too, and looks over at Antoni with a slight smile. “He didn’t mean to hurt you, either. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Besides, Ant, I’m really not here to talk about Kauri.”

Antoni nods, slowly, keeping his eyes down. His bandaged hand itches madly under the gauze and adhesive, the fresh burn beginning its healing by trying to drive him out of his mind reminding him it’s there. It’s a larger burn, too, than all the small spaces where the cigarettes were driven into skin. “You want to know-”

“Hey, how’d you get hurt?” At Antoni’s obvious surprised reaction, Jake gestures towards his hand. “You’re bandaged up. What happened to you?”

“Oh, I… burned myself on the oven, before Kauri came in. It’s not so bad-”

“Did you put anything on it?”

“Of course I did, I have been burned many times, I know what I’m doing.” His voice is a little rougher than he means it to be, and he winces, closing his eyes. “I am sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Antosha.” 

Jake reaches out, and Antoni allows his hand to be taken in Jake’s warm, rough palm, looked over like it’s made of gold, not just burnt and scarred skin. 

“You’re right,” he continues. “You know what to do, it was silly to ask. Just… the first thing that came to mind trying to sound helpful, I guess. Is it really bad?”

“No… not so bad. I put on the burn cream, the neosporin...” Antoni’s skin prickles under Jake’s touch, but not with the usual rush of distaste and dislike. He knows Jake’s touch will stay gentle, brief, what needs to be done and not anything more. And right now…

Right now, he could use a little bit of touch that isn’t a heavy hand in his hair blowing smoke in his face. 

Jake smiles, faintly, at the sight of the ring on Antoni’s finger, matching his and Kauri’s. He rubs his thumb over it, back and forth. “Actually… I guess I came in here to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Antoni looks up, and meets Jake’s eyes. It’s funny, how he and Kauri can both have blue eyes but they’re such wildly different colors of blue anyway. Antoni’s own are a warm brown, lighter than his hair, but not by much. The look on Jake’s face feels like it might steal all of Antoni’s remaining breath, replace it with something lighter than air.

“I’m sorry that information you were keeping to yourself was given away without your permission,” Jake says, voice low, almost a whisper. “It wasn’t ours to know unless you wanted us to know it, Ant. I’m so sorry that it was told. And I’m so sorry Kauri picked the absolute worst way to ask you about it. Just like... gold medal bad plan for asking, right after you got burned...”

“It’s… it’s my fault, honestly.” Antoni swallows, and manages a slight smile, more one-sided and sad than genuine. “I mentioned it to Jameson some time ago, because I thought it might help him to feel more understood, and I did not think at the time that he would want to share that with anyone else-”

“Okay, but that doesn’t give him permission to share it around, either, without making sure you were fine with that. And it doesn’t make it okay for Kauri to eavesdrop at other people’s doors.”

“Kauri assured me twice that he was not eavesdropping at all,” Antoni says dryly, and warms at the sound of Jake’s rich laughter in response. “I did not ask. He assured me anyway.”

“Which means he absolutely was eavesdropping, and he felt guilty about it exactly like he probably should.” Jake shrugs, and lets Antoni’s hand go so he can shift back into a more comfortable position again. “I’ll talk to him some more when he gets back, but I thought you two could use a little time to breathe, a little space for a bit. Kauri always does better if he can sort of script out what he wants to say, and thinks you’ll say, before it happens. He won’t panic if he has his script.”

Antoni hums. Wordlessly, he shifts around until he’s facing the same direction as Jake, pulling his legs up and off to one side, bent so his heels touch his leg. He leans against Jake, resting his head on that broad shoulder, on the soft t-shirt Jake wears. Jake stays right where he is, and doesn’t pull at Antoni, or try to touch him any more than this.

The silence between them is a comfortable one.

After a while, Antoni says softly, “Kasha will imagine me saying all the worst things I could say. Things I would never say. He will write his script and it will not be at all how I will really be to him. He knows that, and he will write the script like that anyway.”

“Yeah. But when you don’t say any of those things, it’ll be a pleasant surprise, right?”

They both laugh again, more air than sound, and Jake tips his head to the side until his cheek rests against Antoni’s hair.

“You know him well,” Antoni points out.

“I should, by now. I know you pretty well, too.”

“Hm. And what do you know about me?” It’s not quite teasing, not quite flirting, but somewhere near those things.

“I know that you need time and space after you’re frightened, or angry, or hurt, and that you felt backed into a corner when Kauri kept pushing. I know that there’s absolutely no way you say what he thinks you said, because I know you, and he does, too. I know that once he calms down he’ll realize that it wasn’t what he thought, and he’ll come apologize to you. And I know you’ll try to apologize, too, and I want you to know me well enough to know what I’m going to say to that.”

Antoni thinks that over. “Not to?”

“Exactly. Don’t apologize for this. You didn’t say a damn thing to hurt him, so far as I can tell, and what hurt Kauri was all the things he thought you were saying, not what you said. He hears you say this thing was bad to me and he hears but it was different for you, and that’s not what you said. He’s… he can be like that, sometimes. Like you said-“

“He hears the worst, because the worst used to be what was said to him always.”

“Yeah. Exactly that. Plus, he’s… he’s better at apologies if he gets to think it through first, take some time. And you’re better if you have time to expect the talk before it starts.”

“Hm. You do know us both well.”

“Course I do. I love you both. Knowing you is kind of part of my whole… reason for living at this point.”

Antoni laughs, feeling the rush of blood to his face. It’s never stopped feeling strange to have that feeling come from Jake’s soft, sweet tenderness and not from Mr. Davies and his endless humiliations. “Jasha… will he forgive me? For hurting him?”

“He probably already has, and he needs to go out there and wallow for a while in understanding how he hurt you. Then he’ll write his script, come back, and I’ll make you both a drink. Can I give you some advice, though, for that?”

“What?”

“Tell him you still love him, first. Before you let him say anything. Make sure he knows that you love him, even if he upset you, that it doesn’t mean everything else is gone.”

“He thinks I do not love him?” Antoni feels something chilled and cold, within himself, at that. “Jake, I-”

“No, no that’s not what I’m saying. He knows you do, he does, just... he’s scared you won’t, anyway. He always is, every time there’s a fight, every time someone raises their voice… Ant… when you’ve been, uh. Hurt. By people you loved and trusted, who were supposed to take care of you…”

His voice softens, and Antoni watches how his jaw works, how hard he fights to keep speaking, pushing through.

“… that feeling, that every screw up will mean they’ll pull back and stop caring about you… that feeling doesn’t go away. It never goes away.” Jake swallows, and Antoni tilts his chin up to watch his Adam’s apple move, how he blinks a little more rapidly. “Not all the way. No amount of therapy can stop your body from trying to survive, and when you learn, deep down where your blood runs, where your heart beats, that you’re never safe, not even with the people you love…”

“You never learn how to be safe, even when you are,” Antoni finishes for him, and watches Jake press his lips together and nod, just a little. A short, sharp jerk of his chin. “I know. I do not want Kasha to think I could do anything but love him, in my way.”

“It’s not because of you, or anything you do. It’s because… shit. You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Antoni closes his eyes again, letting Jake have the tears in his eyes unseen. Pretending they go unnoticed. “I will tell him I love him, no matter what, and that the talk is not about loving him but about what hurt.”

“But don’t apologize. It’s not your fault that he’s been made to be scared, and it’s not your fault that he heard something he didn’t know before.”

“I should have told you both a long time ago,” Antoni says, and finds himself leaning into Jake’s comfortable presence more than he has in so long he can’t remember if it’s ever happened before, this comfortably. “But I could never find the words to say. And then it had been so long… I just wanted to forget.”

“Does your therapist know?” Jake’s voice is slightly husky.

“… no. I did not tell her-… I did not want to.”

“Promise me something, Antosha.” Jake turns and presses a kiss to Antoni’s unruly dark hair. His lips graze down to Antoni’s scalp. “Promise me you’ll tell her, at least. You never have to say another word about it to me, or to Kauri, or anyone at all, but tell her.”

Antoni is silent.

“Ant, please…”

“I will tell her. I promise.” He moves his right hand to hook his pinky around Jake’s. “Pinky promise, like the children say at the park. Who all is in the house?”

“Jameson’s gone back to Nat’s. Allyn’s here, Sarita and Nova are with them downstairs watching TV. Eli is in his room doing… whatever Eli does in there all the time. Probably talking to Nine for seven hours on facetime again. What do you even talk about for that long?”

“You do not talk. You be as near to each other as you can, and when you look, you see the person you are looking for, every time.”

It’s Jake’s turn to fall quiet. They sit in silence for a while, Jake scrolling through his phone, Antoni with his eyes closed. He drifts, not quite comfortable enough to fall asleep, but realizing he’s held himself so tense, muscles locked, that he feels like he’s run several miles and just sat down to rest.

Ten minutes might pass that way, or fifteen.

“It is why I wear the ring,” Antoni says suddenly, looking down at his bandage, the silvery platinum peeking out above the top of the gauze.

“What?” Jake blinks, and looks over just as Antoni tips his head up. “What’s why?”

The kiss they share is quiet, and soft, and Antoni realizes he hasn’t smelled the cloves since Jake came in here. Only Jake’s cologne, and the scent of his body beneath, the laundry detergent in his clothes. His mouth is warm, and Antoni’s skin doesn’t crawl, it only meets that warmth with its own.

Then he pulls back, and smiles, their foreheads just touching, close enough to kiss again. But he doesn’t.

And Jake doesn’t try.

“I wear the ring,” Antoni whispers, “Because every time I look at it, it is like seeing the people I am always looking for.”

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @autophagay

#whump ocs #fluff #hurt/comfort #comf #fluffy stuff #come get y'all qpr #antoni sings lullabies #jake the shelter guy #referenced abusive relationship #referenced child abuse #trauma recovery tw #recovering whumpee #angst and fluff #angst #whump

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Tongue Piercing- Legolas x Alternative!Reader

Summary: Legolas is very interested in readers tongue piercing. They show him what it feels like

Word Count: 1, 262

The portraits that adorned the walls of the Mirkwood library could only be described as perfection. Legolas had wanted to show you all of his home, and had spent the past few hours walking with you and talking about its history and beauties.

As you walk along, viewing the regal art, you discover one that looks like your elvish tour guide.

“Legolas is this one you?” You ask smirking at the handsome elf.

“Um well, yes, yes that’s me. I didn’t have many portraits as a child, so last spring my father wanted a more important looking portrait done of me.” He explains bashfully.

Though Legolas was a prince and warrior, he could tend to get quite flustered when his status was mentioned. Legolas was quite a humble prince and he didn’t really like to be fawned over.

Looking up at the large portrait, you couldn’t help but marvel, not just at the quality of the art, but how the painting captured Legolas’ beauty; a beauty that was both strong and sweet. Taking in the art for so long, you began to become so enthralled that you hadn’t noticed you’d been playing with your tongue piercing, flicking it up and down and lightly running it through your mouth.

In your world, piercings weren’t all that odd and people didn’t really think twice or react too amazed at them, but in this world they were an abnormality. Being so used to your piercings normality, you were confused to hear Legolas’ light gasp beside you. Turning your head from the portrait, you look over to see Legolas’ eyes wide in both wonder and concern.

“Legolas, what’s the matter?” You turn to your new friend, concern now etched into your face as you lightly take his hand and shoulder.

Looking into his eyes and seeing his own flicking down to your lips, you began to understand. Seeing his worried expression about something you considered so mundane, you couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

“It’s my piercing isn’t it?” You smirk up at him.

“Yes, well, you, you have many piercings on your face but-I-I was unaware of your tongue. I mean your face is pierced and your tongue is um…” Legolas began to ramble, obviously not quite sure what to say, his flustered state making you laugh again.

“Legolas, it’s okay. It’s a tongue piercing. I have piercings on my face and tongue because they’re jewellery that I like the style of. I know it’s not common here so I understand your worry. Where I’m from they’re quite common.” You explain calmly to him, both of your hands now soothingly intertwined with his.

“May, may I ask you a question?” He says timidly, his eyes meeting yours shyly.

“Of course, Legolas. You don’t have to worry about offending me.” You reassure him with a sweet smile and a squeeze of his hands.

“Well, how, how does it feel?” He quietly asked.

“To have done or how does it feel in my mouth?” You genuinely asked.

“Bo-both I suppose.”

“Well it obviously hurts because it’s something being stabbed through my flesh,” you laugh jokingly, “but the pain was relatively quick and the healing wasn’t too bad.” You reassured your new friend.

“A-and in your mouth? I mean um..” he awkwardly questioned.

With the cute blush that now covered his cheeks and his awkward wording, you couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered state.

Since the moment you laid eyes on Legolas, you found him extremely attractive. As you got to know him, you found yourself craving the way he blushed and the friendly touches you gave each other. You hadn’t really done anything to properly flirt with him yet, but the way he was blushing and staring at your mouth, you couldn’t help but take up the opportunity to play with the sweet prince.

“Would you like to feel?” You asked him, your voice now dropping seductively as you moved slightly closer to him, your chests now almost touching.

“Ye- I mean if yo- you’re comf..”

Cutting him off, you take one of his fingers in your hand as you bring it to your open mouth. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you begin to swirl his long finger along your tongue. He can’t help but stare at you with desperate eyes, as if begging for something more but not knowing fully what he needs.

Seeing that Legolas was definitely into the little game you were playing, you decide to close your mouth around his finger and suck up and down, putting on a provocative show for the young prince. Legolas can’t help but let his eyes flutter slightly and moan at the show before him.

Releasing his finger with an exaggerated pop, Legolas lets out a quiet breathy moan. Smirking and biting your lip at the prince, you place his hand on your waist as you lean in close to his ear.

“Would you like to know how it feels against other things, Legolas?” You whisper seductively, your tongue coming out to lick along his neck, as your hand lightly strokes his hardening bulge.

“Mmm, y/n, pl-please.” He pathetically moaned out, head dropping back slightly.

“Please what, Legolas? What do you need, sweet prince?” You continue to tease him, your pierced tongue making its way up his neck and over his jaw.

“I-I- I need to feel you! Please make me feel good.” His moans growing louder as you rubbed his bulge faster.

“What a good boy.” You smirk against his neck.

Grabbing onto the back of his head you crash your mouth against his in a heated kiss. As your tongue slipped into his mouth and began exploring his, he gasped out at feeling the cool metal in his mouth. Continuing your heated assault on his mouth, your hand begins to pull down his trousers, his cock springing free and bobbing.

Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead against his as you begin to stroke his hard cock. Your light strokes cause him to let out a whining moan, loving the feeling of your touch but needing more. Smirking and staring into his desperate eyes, you push him against the wall and drop to your knees in front of him.

Continuing to rub his length, you lick up the underside of his tip, making sure to dig your piercing into the sensitive skin. The delicious sensation causing his eyes to close and his head to lightly thud against the wall.

“You ready, Legolas?” You ask him, staring up at him sweetly.

“Please…” he begs sweetly, looking down at you with pleading eyes.

Smirking up at him, you lick the underside of his cock once again, before taking his whole head in your mouth. Starting to suck lightly, you begin to work him further into your mouth. The sweet moans and gasps from the elf prince above you sounded like heaven, and it only made you work faster with your hand and lick and stuck him harder.

It didn’t take long of your talented and studded tongue working Legolas before he started to lightly grind into your mouth, whimpering how good it felt and how close he was. With a sweet and breathy moan, Legolas released into your mouth. Tasting him on your tongue, you swallowed everything he gave you. Taking him out of your mouth, saliva and a small amount of cum on your lips, you smirk up at him as you give him one last little lick with your stud on his head, a small last little whimper leaving his sweet parted lips.

#legolas x reader #alternative!reader #legolas x alternative!reader #legolas imagine #lotr #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine

[miwsolovely]

—PRIDE

pairing: task force 141 x fem!black!reader

series masterlist taglist next

summary: You’re not fragile. You’re not.

contains: military inaccuracies, Dissociation, mentions + references to past trauma, torture, reader gets triggered a lot in this chapter :(, hurt w comfort, mentions of kidnapping, panic attack ( with comfort )

wc: 4.9k

a/n: ugh this feels rushed :(

a/n 2: sorry for the wait,, ( unedited )

“I told you, step by step, what to do.” The weight of a knife, the weight of the world, feeling very similar at this moment.

All you can do is stare at the floor. Wishing you could see your reflection but at the same time wanting to see it burn.

You wanted to see what had become of you. What he made of you. Wanted to see pitch black iron slowly encrust your heart. Protecting it. Hiding it.

However you wanted to see it burn at the same time. Wanted to show him that he isn’t what defines you. Wanted to show him how far your pride could take you. Until it ultimately breaks you.

Until he breaks you.

“What,” A stinging pain erupts from across your face. “Not gonna answer me sweetcheeks?”

You cough, red staining your lips, your body, your soul.

He scoffs and then as if he remembered something, starts playing with the long crowbar in his hands, tossing it from hand to hand with a giddy smile on his face.

You hack out another dry cough, cringing at the sound and at the metallic taste it left in your mouth. You raise your head to look at him in the eyes. Every muscle twitching and burning in the process.

He squats down to meet your level, your eyes following his every move as you try to scrutinize his actions.

“You know I love you right?” His smile. His God awful smile leads you into a field of roses. But his eyes lead you into the hands of death.

You spit at his feet. The crowbar sings as it hits your head.

***

“You don’t like hospitals do you?”

You blink and try to clear out the fog that encases your mind. Trying to escape the feeling of the knives against your skin, the fist, the crowbar—

“No, huh?” She answers for you. Sophia, you remember, was the woman you were supposed to get cleared by in order to go on missions on this team instead of sitting at a desk. You needed to prove them wrong. No matter how much you resented being on this team. On a team again.

Today marks two months that you’ve been on this base. So far you have no reason to stay, no purpose, all because of a psych eval that was shoved down your throat.

You scold yourself. “No purpose.” What about the man with the overgrown, albeit beautiful, mohawk? The man with the chocolate skin that shined when kissed by the sun?

They were nice. Treated you with a kindness that was only ever expressed by three people: Vera, your Mom, and your sweet Ma. They barely knew you, didn’t say more than two sentences when you were shoved down their throats, and added to their team. You are an intruder. An intruder on something that was beautiful and intimate.

You saw the way they looked at each other. Pinched yourself behind closed doors whenever you felt something green and snapping coil in your stomach, when you found your cheeks getting hot, when you felt your heart skipping a beat or two. For the two Sergeants at least.

The Captain and the Lieutenant however, they were as dark and secretive as their eyes.

Your expression hardens. “Never did.” Never liked them because it leaves a trail. A scent for a well trained dog to sniff out and find you. Kill you and let the birds eat at your flesh, killing you ten times over.

“Well then, today’s not your lucky day, ‘m not finished.” She says. You can see the sass dripping from her mouth, straining her lips and words with a golden ichor, much like the rich ichor of his own sass, his own words, falling, falling, and coloring everything gold. A gold that decays and reveals ugly things, ugly intentions.

You peer at her through your lashes, you look around the room, a room that looks comforting, looks welcoming, but everything has its secrets, you shift where you are, finding the seat you’re in uncomfortable from sitting there too long, your thighs going numb. Spreading, spreading like a disease, his disease his love—

“Are you even payin’ attention?” She stands there, in front of you with her hands on her wide hips, blonde brows furrowed and her pink lips pulled into a deep frown. “Because if you can’t pass a psych eval, then I’d say you’re not ready.”

You huff out a laugh at that, an amused smile pulling at your lips. She stares at you as if offended. “Somethin’ funny?”

You stare at her through half lidded eyes, crossing your arms on your chest. “None of us are ready doll. Not a single one.” You say. “And yet you still see us running into war with our heads shoved up our asses.”

She turns pink at the term of endearment you used for her.

“Well that—that don’t mean ‘m jus’ gonna let you go! I have to evaluate you. . .”

You freeze at her accent revealing itself. It’s something rooted, something deep and southern, like his.

You think it comes out whenever she feels a strong emotion.

Like hate. His hate. His—

“I need to go.”

***

The girl in your reflection wails. Scratching, pleading, yelling, to let her out. Let her take control, let her so she can protect the both of you.

Your breathing comes out ragged, and you claw and fumble with your door until it opens, slamming it and locking the door. You stay there for a second, turning so your forehead rests against the wood, wishing the door was cold, not filled with this burning heat that dug into your skin.

You turn and limp to the bathroom, you wrestle with the door knob and you fight the feeling of your legs giving out. You wished they would too, wished the world would split open and swallow you whole, close and take all your problems away. All your pain and sorrow and—

A knock. Then a voice. “You alright, love?”

Your breathing is harsh and you’re sure whoever is behind the door to your room, Gaz, can hear it.

You try to breathe calmly. You rest your shaking arms on the sink and pray for the cold ceramic to ground you. You twist the faucet all the way to the right and cup the freezing water in your hands.

The girl in this reflection is screaming. Pleading, demanding, for what, you can’t figure out, but your head is pounding, your heart is racing, and water is still pouring out of the faucet.

Get your shit together.

Remember what Vera taught you. In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight.

Four, seven, eight, four, seven eight, four, seven—

“Angel?”

Your breathing took a pause. Angel.

Angel, is the name spoken with a type of special emotion you can’t put your finger on by the two Sergeants. Something that calms you, and something you won’t admit aloud. However it’s Angel, the same name spoken with a hostility that’s rooted in the Captain and his Lieutenant’s voice, that pushes you to build your walls higher.

You stand there, hunched over the sink with the water in your hands escaping through the gaps between your hands like sand in an hourglass; running out of time.

The girl in this reflection fades away, distorted by the ripples in the water caused by the tears that escaped your eyes.

You bring your cupped hands to your face and splash the cold water on your face. You keep your hands on your face, covering your eyes for a moment because you’re not ready to face the world just yet.

After a minute, you blink to clear the blurriness in your eyes and feel for the towel you remember setting on the counter. Bringing it up to your face and wiping away the water that sits there, wishing to wipe away all your problems as easy as that.

You walk out of the bathroom after setting the towel where you found it, not ready to look at the woman you know looks at you with a hostility that matches the Lieutenant’s in the mirror yet.

Through all the noise, both in your head and in the real world, the world that scares you to no end, the world that hates you, you hear Gaz’s soft voice asking if he can come in.

Now, in front of the door to your room, you hesitate opening it. Scared of what he’ll say to you when you open it, if you open it. You’re a Colonel. You’re supposed to be strong and unwavering in everything you do. Why are you scared of what he’ll say to you when he sees your red rimmed eyes? Your pale face? Your shaking hands?

“You’re not enough.” He’d say. “You’re never going to be enough.”

You open the door.

Gaz looks up at you, and it surprises you because he doesn’t look at you with the pity or disdain you thought you’d see in his eyes, but with a soft smile gracing his lips and his honeyed voice asking if you wanted to talk.

He wants to talk. Why?

You ignore his question and ask him yours in turn. “Can I help you, Sergeant?”

He shakes his head slightly, the smile on his face stays. “No, just wanted to talk to you.”

He’s looking deep into your eyes. As if past the red rimmed and glossed over eyes, he can see the torn little girl you are inside curled up into fetal position, scared out of her mind.

You’ve been here two months.

Two months fourteen days and thirteen hours. And you’re moving to the side to allow him entrance.

He walks in your room and turns to face you, using the motion of turning in a half circle to inspect it without you suspecting him of doing so. You still caught on.

The room you're currently in is not really yours, it's a room. Not yours because save for the bag of clothes positioned in front of the closet, the room was barren. The bed was made and left without wrinkles, the nightstand was left untouched and is starting to collect dust, the prison grey walls reflecting your prison mind. Lonely, grey, and bleak.

You stare at him, at Gaz, with cautious and questioning eyes before motioning to the bed with your arm.

"You can sit."

He smiles that small, never ending and perfect smile of his showcasing the moons imbedded in his cheeks, and turns his back towards you to sit on the bed next to the pillows.

Why did he turn his back to you?

You shift where you stand.

Doesn't he know not to turn your back to someone you don't trust?

You meet his gaze with hesitance laced in your actions when you move to your nightstand to take a seat at the chair placed delicately in front of it, sitting down on the old chair that's seen better days, you face the man in your. . . in the room.

You keep your hands in your lap and fiddle with the hem of your sweater. Nervousness seeping you're your skin and bones and sending a chill through your body. "You wanted to talk—"

"Call me Kyle."

You pause.

Of course you knew his name. Knew it and remembered it when you read his file, said it in your mind a billion times without knowing, you knew all their names. But names were for friends, they were for lovers. You aren’t either of those. Callsigns are for strangers. They’re for long nights hunkered down in God knows where fighting Good knows who. They’re so that everything stays secret.

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask again. Ignoring his request to call him by his name and swatting away the small part of your brain begging you call him by his name.

He pauses for a moment, caramel eyes melting and revealing good things, good intentions.

“Would you like to have lunch with me?” He asks. His hands, you notice, are unscathed, clean, save for the little white line disrupting the chocolate of his skin. How you wish for hands like that. Clean, soft hands that you’d wish to melt in.

“Just you?” You murmured, trying to sound, fragile. Your eyes probably gave you away however. Vera always told you that.

“Me and Soap if you’d like.” He answers, looking down at his hands and intertwining them.

Him and Soap, Gaz and Soap, Kyle and Johnny.

You breathe in and you swear you can taste the caramel of his eyes. “Okay.” You whisper.

***

“When you said “Task Force,” You said, mimicking quotations in the air with two fingers. “Thought you meant it was some place quiet, a Task Force that barely gets any missions. But no, I find myself in the hands of the largest and most well known special ops team known to man.”

Kate Laswell, your mom, lets out a laugh at that. She finishes signing whatever paperwork she needed to at her desk and leans back in her chair.

“Oh really now?” She asks with a lift of her brow and a smile curling a side of her lips. “And how will you accomplish what you want in life behind the walls of a “quiet” Task Force?”

You sigh, irritated. Your eyes narrow and your eyebrows furrow deep. For a moment, you almost forget it’s your mom you’re talking to. “And what, you expect me to stay on this team? You didn’t see how hostile they treated me.”

Your mom remains nonchalant while she speaks. “You sure you’re my daughter? Last time you complained was when you were eight.” She says. “And you’re right, I didn’t.” You watch as she stands up and walks to a cabinet adjacent to her desk, pulling out an expensive bottle of whiskey and pouring herself a fair amount in a glass cup. “Felt it through the door when I walked out.” She said as she took a sip, winking at you when she met your eyes from the top of her glass.

You slump on the chair you’re sitting in, resting your elbows on your knees and your hands on your face.

“So, what? I’m gonna be stuck on this team till he’s dead?” You say, rubbing your temples to calm the headache you feel throbbing in your head.

Kate walks back to her desk and leans on it, facing you. “No, you’re gonna stay on this team even after you kill him.”

You feel your heart stop beating against your chest, your lungs pausing mid inhale, your fingers moistening with sweat coming from your brow.

You hear ringing in your ears. Screaming. It’s the girl in your reflection, the mirror; she’s screaming. You lift your head from your hands and stare at her through the corner of your eye.

“What?”

Your mom sighs and walks to stand in front of you, leaning on her desk.

“What I’m about to tell you,” She starts, looking at you with hard eyes. “Is something that needs to stay in this room you hear me?”

Your fingers twitch and you find yourself nodding.

She sighs and rubs her head as if she’s fighting s headache right now. She looks stressed. “I heard talk about the Shadow Company kidnapping a scientist.”

Your brows furrow. “A scientist?” You asked. Where is she going with this?

She nods in response to you. “A scientist. His name is Dr. Kelly Berkman. American, mid to late forties, three kids and a wife—”

“Mom.”

“He’s, he’s the CEO of The White Lotus.”

You sit there, confused out of your mind as to why she would be telling you this. The White Lotus is a relatively small company that makes vaccines. Why would he kidnap an innocent man?

Kate stands there, watching you, pleading for you to connect the dots.

When your eyes widen and hands fall limp on your legs, her eyes shine bright with sadness.

You suck in a breath and will it to be your last. “He’s making a bioweapon.”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

TAGLIST.

@sobasicallyimpoppee @mercurysjoy @mitoad @cringeycookies @justyourfriendlyneighborhood1 @imthegirlyourparentswarnedyouof @riw3 @pynkvalley @lunaisalive09 @mindscape123 @crazybook27955 @poohkie09 @kristyxoxo

if your name is in white, that means I can’t tag you and you need to check your settings (on this app) !!

#♡﹒⇅﹒cod masterlist—﹒📁 #﹒zᶻ﹒impurieties #x reader #cod x reader #fem!reader #kyle gaz garrick #tf 141 x reader #black!reader #fem!black!reader #poly!task force 141 x reader #tf141 #poly141 x reader #poly tf141 #kyle ‘gaz’ garrick #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #simon ‘ghost’ riley #john ‘bravo six’ price #johnny mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader

[heavyhitterheaux]

Studio Time With The Triple Threat Harlows

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

Gif by @harlowgifs

Synopsis: The triplets want to spend more time with daddy and he knows just want to do to keep them entertained

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: anon who wanted dad!Jack content 😌

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You looked down to see that Ivy had gotten away from you once again and simply sighed. This had been happening since this morning with her wanting to be around Jack, but he was in the studio busy downstairs.

Every time she wandered off, you found her at the door to the studio trying to reach the handle and simply brought her back upstairs, but not before letting her say hi to her dad. 

This time as you made your way downstairs you once again found her in front of the door trying to reach up to grab the handle when you picked her up from behind and made her laugh.

"My big girl has got to stop running away from me!"

"But I wanna say hi to daddy."

"Okay bug and then we're going to eat something."

"Chicken nuggies?"

"Sure if that's what you want." You said while putting her down.

"Go ahead and knock and wait for daddy to say it's okay to come in."

She knocked three times while shouting "Daddy!? Can I come in?"

Jack laughed to himself as he heard his oldest outside of the door for the fiftieth time today and got up to open the door to see her looking up at him with those big blue eyes that resembled his as she had her arms out for him to pick her up. As you mouthed 'I'm sorry' to him but he simply waved it off.

"Hi daddy! I miss you."

"Hi gorgeous girl. I missed you too. And of course I missed my beautiful wife also." Jack said as he picked her up and she simply started playing with his KY necklace as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head before leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"You eat chicken nuggies with me?" Ivy asked with hope apparent in her voice.

"I don't know yet sweetheart. Daddy has a lot of work to do."

"But daddy take a break?"

Just then you heard two more sets of little footsteps as Autumn and Axel ran full speed into Jack grabbing one leg each.

"As you can tell you've been missed all day." You said.

"Well then I guess I could take a small break." He answered as Ivy clapped her hands in excitement.

"Then let's eat dinner. Ax, Autumn let go of daddy so he can walk." Axel reluctantly pulled away and you had to pry Autumn off of him in order for him to be able to move.

All of you made your way upstairs and Axel volunteered to help you set the table.

You handed him napkins not wanting for him to start running around with sharp objects because that child could turn a spoon into a weapon.

The Triplets got chicken nuggets per their request while you and Jack had chicken and dumplings which your mother had helped you make earlier in the day.

Once everyone was finished and the table was clear, Jack got up from the table and Ivy went to follow him.

"Daddy? I come with you?"

"Ivy, daddy has a lot of work to do." You answered but once Jack saw the pout on her face, he didn't want for her to be upset.

"Bug, if you do you have to be really quiet for me. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, I wanna go too!" Axel exclaimed while chewing on the cookie that you gave him.

"Ax, don't talk with your mouth full." Jack answered while looking over at him.

"Me three!"

"Okay since all of you want to go, I need all three of you to be really quiet and draw daddy a few pictures. How does that sound?"

All three eagerly nodded their heads as they ran off into the direction of where you kept all of the art supplies and was jumping up to reach them and failing miserably.

"Wait for mommy to get it for you so you don't get hurt."

You took down a few pieces of paper for each of them along with crayons as all five of you went downstairs to the studio with Ivy leading the way. Jack had to open the door for her but once she did, she ran inside and found a comfy spot in the corner as her siblings joined her. You handed them the pieces of paper and crayons so that they could draw their pictures as you went to go sit on the couch next to them, but you quickly heard Jack’s protest.

"Can I have my wife over here with me, please?" Jack asked with a pout on his face and you quickly got up in order to sit next to him, but he gestured for you to sit on his lap instead. 

"Are you going to be able to focus with me sitting on your lap?" You asked as you sat down with him immediately putting his hands around your waist and kissing you.

"I always can whether you're riding me or not and I want you to ride me so this will give me more motivation to hurry up and finish so we can get to it." 

All you did was roll your eyes in response while laughing.

"And besides I want your opinion on a few things and they look to be occupied." He answered while peering over at the triplets. 

"Okay let's hear it."

"And be honest with me. If it's trash then tell me."

"As you wish. But, I'm sure that it’s not."

"But if you hurt my feelings, I expect head before I go to sleep."

"Jackman, just play me the song please. And you never have to ask since I was going to do that anyway. I knew you wouldn't behave with me sitting on your lap."

"I am behaving!"

A little while later, Ivy got up and made her way over to the both of you to say that she was bored and needed something else to do.

 "Daddy, can you play with me now?"

"Not right now. Did you draw me a picture?"

"I drew you four." She answered while holding up her fingers.

"It's almost time for you to go to sleep anyway." You told her and she immediately crossed her arms.

"But I'm not sleepy!"

"Wait, I have an idea. Ax, Autumn come here." Jack said and they stopped coloring to come over to him.

"Do you three want to make a song for daddy?"

"YES!" All three of them exclaimed and you couldn’t help but to smile.

"Okay listen closely." Jack started to say to explain to them how this would work as best he could so they could understand and once he was done they were excited.

"Mommy is going to go in the booth with the three of you to do it, okay?"

"Can my part be about chicken nuggies?" Ivy asked and Jack simply shrugged.

"Whatever you want, princess. Are you three ready?"

They eagerly nodded as you took Ivy in the booth first and placed the headphones on her and sat her on the stool so that she could reach the microphone.

Jack started to play the track and you tapped Ivy's shoulder to tell her to start.

"I like eating chicken nuggies and playing with Ax and Autumn. I love my mommy and daddy. Okay, I'm done." Ivy said while taking off the headphones and hopping down from the stool and you and Jack couldn't help but to laugh.

"Ax, you ready?"

He immediately ran over to where you were and sat down on the stool as you put the headphones on and it looked as if he was thinking.

"You ready for daddy to play the song?"

"Yes, I have an idea now."

Once Jack heard that Axel was ready, he pressed play on the track and you soon heard Axel's voice. 

"Daddy is mad because I'm mommy's favorite boy. The end."

It took everything in you not to bust out laughing while Jack simply rolled his eyes as Axel smiled at him.

"I love you daddy!" Ax exclaimed as he came out the booth and went to sit in his lap.

"I'm starting to think that you don't, but okay. I'll let it slide this time."

"Okay, Autumn. It's your turn."

"My mommy and daddy can rap better than anybody and I'm next."

"Hmm, valid points were made, Autumn. Good job." Jack said as he high five her when she came out of the booth.

"Daddy, is the song good enough for us to get a Grammy?" She asked while looking up at him.

"Let me work my magic and it just might."

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow concepts #first babies of pg

[thehollowwriter]

*Skerks down the hallway like a cat coming down with zoomies* I heard you were doing Rollo fluff only requests, so I jumped into your ask box IMMEDIATELY. Do you think you could do some bed-time snuggles with him? I just want to cuddle this obviously touched-starved, emotionally repressed twink so bad you don't even KNOW. He'd probably say he isn't touch starved, that he's only does this because you seem to enjoy it, but then we'd wake up the next morning with half his weight on top of us and him clinging like a desperate koala and refusing to let go. No obsession, no sexual undertones, just a depressed man finding solace in a soft bed, thick blankets, and the warmth of another's arms, finding the peaceful sleep he hasn't know for years.

Aaah this is so cute! Thank you for this anon! ^^

Summary: You convince Rollo to get some well needed sleep. Cuddles ensue.

Warnings: None

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

In Your Grasp

The first thing that came to your mind when you laid eyes on Rollo Flamme was "wow, he needs some sleep."

It wasn't an unusual conclusion. Many people thought the same. The intense gaze of his dark green eyes were just as tired as it was intense. His posture and mannerisms, slow and lethargic as they were prim and proper.

Now, the both of you were dating. It was many months after the events of the masquerade and that thought hasn't changed.

Still, after all this time, the large bags under Rollo's eyes remained.

Rollo was a hard worker and a busybody who rarely gave himself a break. He often stayed up late or even all night in order to get whatever he wanted done, whether it be studying, homework, paperwork for his fellow students or chores.

You knew that he avoided going to bed because he struggled to sleep. He had told you once, during a quiet moment together, that simply laying there alone with his thoughts and nothing to distract him led to thinking about his brother, which in turn led to nightmares plaguing the few moments of sleep he did experience.

While you did sympathise with this, sitting on the edge of his bed watching him fight to stay awake and complete his work made you decide it was time to stop him.

"Rollo," You said softly, taking the paper from his hands. "Rollo you need to go to bed. It's late."

Your words were met with a huff and a dismissive hand wave. "I'm not tired. You should go to bed now, though."

"Not tired? Rollo, look at yourself. You're about to keel over. You drifted off at least twice."

At Rollo's silent, almost disbelieving stare, you sighed. "Let me stay here with you tonight. We can lie together until you fall asleep."

There was a moment were Rollo didn't react, his tired brain taking a pause to process your words. When it did, his eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink.

"T-Together?" He stammered. "My flame, I-I am not sure about that."

"Don't worry about it," You assured him smiling. "It'll be nice. Besides." You gestured to his large bed tucked into the corner of the room. "There's plenty of space so we won't annoy each other."

Rollo, still pink, looked at you, then at the bed, then his work and then at you again. He gazed at the paper in your hands, squinting.

The words looked blurry. His head was fuzzy. His eyes hurt. He felt heavy.

"Alright," He relented with a sigh. "Let me get ready and I'll... I'll join you in a few minutes."

You, already in your pajamas, sighed in relief and gently kissed his cheek. "I'll be waiting for you." You said, moving to nestle under the blankets.

Rollo set his work aside and and began to get ready for bed, his cheeks burning a much brighter red at the thought of sharing a bed with you.

He blinked, staring to the mirror as he removed his make up, a million flustered thoughts whirling through his mind.

Sleeping... together? In the same bed? Next to you and your warm soft self? You, likely to sleep far more fitfully than he ever would?

Surely, you would rather sleep in your own bed? The one you were familiar with in feeling, scent and comfort? Your room wasn't far from his, it wasn't a long trip and he could walk with you.

Rollo was standing next to his bed in his pajamas before his mind caught up with him and the flustered thoughts began to dissipate.

Still red and unsure, he simply stood there with his hands at his sides and his eyebrows furrowed, looking between you and his bed.

After two excruciating minutes, Rollo carefully lifted the black, royal purple and wine red covers and climbed in next to you. He was stiff and awkward in his movement, biting his lip almost as if he was embarrassed.

He lay in his back, and stared at the dark ceiling with exhausted dark green eyes. Stubbornly, they refused to shut long enough to let him sleep, flying open at the images that would flash behind his eyelids.

It was just like always.

Alone, in the oppressive silence of his room, images of his brother and Rollo's own failure to rip magic from the world dominated his psyche, making his breath catch in his throat and his mouth open in a silent gasp.

No... no that wasn't quite right. He wasn't alone. You were right next to him, huddled under the blankets and facing towards.

"Mon chéri," Rollo began before he could stop himself. "May we... talk? Please?"

Please. Anything to fill the dreadful silence weighing down on him, suffocating him. Please please please please please-

"Sure," You said, and he could hear the smile in your voice. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything." It took every bit of willpower Rollo had to avoid sounding as desperate as he felt. "I don't mind."

He could feel your gaze, brimming with concern, burning into you.

"Why don't you tell me about your day?" You asked after a pause. "I remember you looked like you wanted to throttle someone earlier. Who was the poor fool this time?"

Rollo let out a breath and rolled his eyes. "Today was... fine. Things were going smoothly despite that idiot Solomon's best efforts. It's impossible to get anything done when he's always glued to his phone..."

His voice flowed into the silence and was soon joined by yours. You shifted from one topic to another, talking about anything and everything. Rollo hung onto your every word, and you returned the gesture.

Slowly, Rollo shifted closer to you, pressing against you and taking hold of your hand in a tight grip. You wrapped your arm around him and his stiff body relaxed a little, comforted by your touch.

It was late when you realised Rollo had stopped speaking. You looked to your side to find him resting his head on your shoulder, eyes closed and chest gently rising and falling.

You smiled at the sight and gently kissed the top of his head.

"Goodnight, Rollo." You murmured. Your own eyes slid shut and slowly the world began to fade away.

***

Gentle golden beams of sunlight filtering through the curtains caused your eyes to flutter open and blink away the sleep.

Stiff and uncomfortable, you tried to turn over and stretch, only to find you couldn't move. Something heavy was weighing you down.

It took a few moments, but your tired mind eventually registered that it was in fact Rollo keeping you pinned on your side.

Rollo had his face buried in your neck and his arms wrapped around you as tightly as possible. His legs were tangled with yours, the position ensuring he was pressed as tightly against you as possible, holding you as if he were afraid you would disappear.

Despite your discomfort, you hadn't the heart to move him. He looked serene, a rare expression to see on his face. You chuckled and gently threaded your fingers through his short white hair, kissing his temple.

"I love you, Rollo."

......................................

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I got excited writing this, so it'd about 1k words in length urugututur

Tagging: @distant-velleity

#rollo flamme x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rollo flamme #twisted wonderland #writing #fluff fic #fluff

[strwberri-milk]

Masterlist - Childe

Band!Childe x Reader - Requested

S/O W/ RBF - Fluff, Requested

Motherly S/O - Fluff, Requested

Soft Yet Feral S/O - Fluff, Requested

Ex Fatui Agent S/O - Comf, Requested

Aftercare - Suggestive, Requested

S.O Like Himeko Toga - Requested

Reader S/H - Hurt/Comf, Requested

Death Personified S/O - Fluff, Requested

Goth S/O - Fluff, Requested

"Fainting" Prank - Fluff, Requested

Tsun Reader - Fluff, Requested

S/O Relaxes Around Them - Fluff, Requested

Ignoring Him for Plush - Fluff, Requested

Reader with OCD - Fluff, Requested

Tiktok Dance Idol AU - Fluff, Requested

S/O Worried About Hurting People - Comfort, Requested

Kiss HCs - Fluff, Requested

New Parent - Fluff, Requested

Reader Smokes - Fluff, Requested

Fluttershy Like Reader - Fluff, Requested

Flustering Childe - Fluff, Requested

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Trying to Break Up W/ Him - Comf, Requested

Getting Covid - Fluff, Requested

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Fainting in Front of Him - Comf, Requested

Insecure about Eating - Comf, Requested

Crying While Sleeping - Comf, Requested

Suffering W/ Medical Issues - Comf, Requested

Resting in his Lap - Fluff, Requested

Gifts for Everyone But Him? - Fluff, Requested

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Detective Author Reader - Fluff, Requested

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Loving Him No Matter What - Fluff, Requested

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Self Destructive Habits - Comf, Requested

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Hiding Your Love From Him - Comf, Requested

Villain Archon Reader - Requested

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Your Vision Comes Back to Life, Pt. 2 - Requested

Finding a Vibrator on your Couch - NSFW, Requested

Failing To Notice His Attempts to Date You - Fluff, Requested

Seeing Him Injured - Comf, Requested

S/O Struggles W/ Self-Harm - Comf, Requested

Being Your First Kiss - Fluff, Requested

Crying Reader - Comf, Requested

Rejected then Accepted - Fluff, Requested

His Favourite Accessory - Suggestive, Requested

Reader Like Alastor Astruis - Requested

Coming Out to You - Requested

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Patting You To Sleep - Fluff, Requested

Favourite Place to Kiss - Fluff, Requested

Sibling Goes Missing - Requested

Pole Dancer - Suggestive, Requested

Insomniac Reader Hallucinating - Comf, Requested

Candace - Requested

Insecure about Chest - Comf, Requested

#childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader