#overwhelmed reader

[leviraaaaaa]

Here it is safe. (Levi x reader)

Slight, very slight mentions of anxiety attacks? Idfk. Basically reader often gets overwhelmed and hides, guess who's there to help?

Levi knocked at your door, not surprised when he didn’t get a response. But he waited nevertheless. He tapped against the door a few more times until he reached for the doorknob and twisted it, cautiously pushing it open. Also not to his surprise, your office was empty, not a hair of you in sight. Seemingly. If not for the fact that he’d seen you entering here just two minutes ago and if not for the fact he’s been here way too many times to know better. And so he found himself slowly stepping in, soundlessly shutting the door back. Light on his feet, he approached the desk standing near the back of the room and peered down. “Hello.” You whispered when his silver eyes found yours. It was rather unusual to find most people crouching beneath their desks, was it not? Levi thought so too, the first time he found you here. He remembered being so confused, watching you as you curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth. He remembered being clueless, wondering if you were sick, wondering if he should call Hange or Nanaba, wondering if he should just leave you alone. But time has passed since and he’s learnt a thing or two. That everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes. Levi sighed.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly. “..hiding.” You mumbled, avoiding his gaze and pulling up your knees against your chest. You drummed your fingers anxiously on the floor. “So I’ve figured.” He nodded. “From what exactly?” "I.." You cringed a little. "..don’t know?” “Come out please.” You hesitated, meeting his gaze. It was soft. Warm. Understanding. Safe. But yet, the world was far scarier still. You glanced back at the floor.  “I don’t want to.” “It’s alright. Come out please.” You shook your head. Levi exhaled. “That’s okay,” He said, shifting. “I’ll just come down then.” Before you could even respond to that offer, he was already squatting down, slipping himself into the small space under the desk that could barely even fit you. But he settles in anyways, leaning back opposite of you, your knees touching his. You smiled, letting your hand find his and hooking your cold fingers through. In response, he rubbed circles on your palm with his thumb, squeezing gently. For a moment you just simply sat there, feeling gratitude flood your thundering heart as it quiets, the tension leaving your body and everything wrong in your mind eases away. In that moment, there was only you and him. You could finally breathe again. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” You told him. “What would people say?” He raised a brow questioningly. “Your reputation would be so screwed if people find out you hide under tables like a little child.” You shook your head, trying to explain. “Just because I’m weird, doesn’t mean you have to be too.” “You’re not weird.” “Levi.” “What?” ‘“You don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine in a bit.” “I know.” “So why?” You demanded. He looked at you and shrugged. “Because you needed me.” That’s all he says.  “You needed me." He repeated softly, "And I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

[latehere]

back to business with some good ol alien

[wolverinesprincess]

oh to curl up in logan’s arms as he hides you from the rest of the world 🫂

any version of him 🫂

[polutrope]

I had a thought about kudos on AO3. I know fic writers frequently express how much we love comments, and I really do love and cherish comments.

But kudos are also pretty amazing. A kudos means that somebody, more often than not somebody I have no personal connection to at all, found my fic out of thousands of others and chose to spend their time reading it. Bookmarks too are amazing, even the ones that are just marking an intention to read later. Just knowing someone wants to read my fic is flattering!

Even one kudos means that someone took a chance on my writing and spent precious time reading it, and I'm truly grateful for that, and honoured.

[celestialowlbear]

Just Gale romance things.

Waking up to the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast, which he brings you in bed.

Laying his head in your lap as you play with his hair, asking you about your day.

Cozy evenings reading by a crackling fire, sitting in comfortable silence.

Gale softly reciting poetry as you lay in bed together, holding you close, his intimate words only meant for your ears.

Watching the sunset over a glass of good wine as Gale tells you about a new spell he’s learning.

Gale’s hand always finding yours, squeezing gently and finding it hard to let go.

Playful kisses on the cheek when you aren’t expecting it.

Bookstore dates, thumbing through old texts and buying way more books than you could ever read.

Gale smelling of leather and well-worn pages of a book as he kisses you in the back of the shop.

Catching Gale staring at you, his eyes full of warmth and awe at you, even when you’re doing the most mundane things.

Trying new recipes together, laughing in the kitchen.

Gale whispering between passionate kisses that he wishes he could marry you again and again and again, how his love for you goes beyond all planes and dimensions, your love so profound not even the most prolific poet could put on paper.

Dozing off in one another’s arms, Gale’s heart beyond full, knowing you loved him for him, He could be his true self, the real Gale Dekarios with you.

And he wants nothing more than you and him, like this, forever.

Help, I love him.

[peachsukii]

A rage room is the last place Bakugo ever thought he’d end up with you.

When you bring up the idea to him after seeing one online, he scoffs at the thought of it. Working out and training is more than enough for him to let off metaphorical steam, and he’s been seeing a therapist since senior year of UA. He doesn’t need to smash shit to feel something.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Bakugo agrees to go with you, begrudgingly at first, but ultimately to keep you company, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself or be alone. There were only two rules: No quirk usage and no harming others in the room, everything else is fair game. You both sign the waivers and gear up to head inside. The room is overwhelming at first, full to the brim of freshly smash-able objects - a broken down car with the doors barely on their hinges, light bulbs, glass jars of all sizes, old stop lights, and other breakable trinkets.

“Start smashin’, sweets. It ain’t gonna break itself,” Bakugo jokes, patting you on the back to let you take the first swing. You pick up the bat the facility has supplied and turn to face him, setting it on your shoulder like a sword.

“You’re not gonna try it?”

He’s here and suited up, might as well let loose. What’s the worst that could happen?

Bakugo swings the bat a few times around the room, adrenaline trickling through his veins as glass continuously shatters around him. Suddenly, he’s lost in thought and caught in a slow emotional build up, like an ocean’s tide retreating before the giant swell of waves begin to crash against the shore. Memories begin flooding to the forefront of his mind, things he’d worked through in therapy - anger, frustration, fear, guilt, coursing through him. Bakugo doesn’t notice when you lower your bat, watching him curiously as he starts swinging harder, viciously picking up the pace and breathing heavily with each passing hit.

“Kats, you alright?” You call - he doesn’t hear you in his tunnel visioned state. In between swings, you can see the bat quaking in his grip as if it’s too heavy to hold.

“Katsuki!” you try again with no response. Bakugo sounds like he’s about to have a panic attack with the way his breath is labored. You toss your bat to the floor and rush over to him, gently grabbing at his shoulder to get his attention. He flinches at your touch, shaken up by his sudden visceral reaction with a tinge of embarrassment, hiding his face from you by tucking it against his opposite shoulder.

“Breathe, babe,” you sooth, rubbing calming circles in between his shoulder blades. “Do you need a minute?”

“I—” Bakugo stutters, his throat strained by his effort to hold in the onslaught of tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He clears his throat and bites his lip in a desperate attempt to stop his emotions from overflowing, but he loses the battle.

“We can stop if—”

He snatches your breath away when Bakugo swings around and pulls you into his chest, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck awkwardly. The protective goggles are becoming foggy and wet with discarded tears, a hiccup strangled in his throat. One of your hands slides tenderly against his nape, fingers entangled with the soft blonde strands while the other lays against his back.

"It's okay, I've got you. It's just you and me here."

Turns out smashing shit gave him an outlet he didn’t know he needed. His therapist has preached to him about bodies holding onto stress and trauma throughout our lives - Bakugo thought it was utter bullshit.

He was proven dreadfully wrong. But one things for sure, he’s sincerely grateful you knew him better than himself, how badly he needed this release without verbalizing it.

[sorcerous-caress]

[ventique18]

Imagine being Yuu and having the privilege to call this guy the love of your life, your husband, your soulmate

Would they wake up one day and just. Gaze at him. And a tidal wave of disbelief and happiness overwhelms them because HOW THE HELL are they and this guy on the same bed? Exchanging I-love-yous and kisses? Promising forever to each other? Eating biscuits from the same tray and laughing at accidentally grabbing the same cookie and cleaning up after the crumbs as if they're the most normal couple in the universe when in fact they're not?

And that he'd feel the exact same way as they do and spend hours and hours gazing at their face and thanking whatever gods exist out there that they crossed paths during that fateful night?

GOD they're so perfect lord help me

[gojoest]

—reunion ;

how many times was it, you wonder.

that you opened the closet in your shared bedroom and found yourself staring at satoru’s clothes, and teared up because the last time you had them ironed, he was sitting on the bed behind you, throwing silly remarks at how you’re hotter than the steaming iron in your hand. you would roll your eyes and tell him that half of the time you were steaming hot was out of annoyance because he left the toilet seat up. and he would chuckle and say “my bad, love. won’t forget next time”.

that next time never came.

you would tear up every time upon seeing the toilet seat left down. so you got used to his habit and purposely kept it up at all times. because that way the bathroom had more semblance of when he was still around.

you would tear up simply glancing at his toothbrush placed in the holder because the bristles looked too hard and stiff since he didn’t get to use it in a long time. or the sunglasses he left on the nightstand that you couldn’t bring yourself to move and would carefully dust around so you didn’t change the way they were placed. because he left them there. he touched them last.

was it silly to think that as long as they stayed there, part of him would always be in that house? you didn’t know. but you clearly remember the day you had a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen because your friend threw the empty box of kikufuku mochi in the trash. it was the box he bought. the box he ate from. it was just an empty snack wrap, a trash. yet it felt like part of his presence was torn out of your life.

and this morning your alarm goes off. you open your eyes and sigh because you know how the routine goes— get up, see his sunglasses on the nightstand, tear up, wash your face, brush your teeth, see his toothbrush, tear up some more, smile at the toilet seat being up but then cry because it wasn’t him who left it that way but you, see his clothes when picking your outfit, cry, get dressed and go to work with puffy eyes.

but every once in a while, certain circumstances make it so you’re unable to stick to your daily routine. like oversleeping in the morning and then being forced to skip half of the steps in a rush so you don’t run late to work. or missing sunglasses on the nightstand, or the toilet seat left down, or a white-haired man, making pancakes in the kitchen (or an attempt at least).

“is this a dream or..”, you mumble with a shaky voice.

“if i burn the kitchen down— yes! it’s a bad bad dream”

tears build up in your eyes and you quickly rush to nuzzle into his chest, wrapping both arms around him and squeezing tightly.

“you.. you idiot”

“kept my word though— did you see the seat? left it down this time!”

“took you long..”

“my bad, love”, he chuckles resting his chin at the top of your head while squeezing you back into the hug, “but think i need a new toothbrush, this one hurts my gums”

he does need a new toothbrush. and this time you don’t mind throwing away the old one.

[ellestray]

elle's favorite ateez fics. f = fluff ; s = smut ; sg = suggestive ; a = angst. ✧ = absolute favorites, must read. (only adding notes for these few fics to ensure readability for the overall list!) word count in brackets. last updated: may 2nd, 2024

authors; if you wish to be untagged, please let me know!

currently no individual fic for hongjoong, yeosang & jongho. please refer to the OT8 section, or come back for future updates!

성화 SEONGHWA

✧ [11,1k] plastic flowers — @bobateastay ( f ; s ; a ) ↪ note: this fic revolves around abortion, so please keep this in mind before reading. i read this on a flight— and i don't know if it was the altitude, but it broke me. the author beautifully wrote this, in a way where unconditional love, hope and pain are intertwined. one of the most pleasantly surprising and touching reads i've had on this platform by far.

✧ [2,3k] essence — @hwaightme ( f ) ↪ note: this one is for the poetic, hopelessly romantic fics lovers. everything i've read from this author was beautiful so far! the poetry in this fic was so pretty that i felt the need to share it to my friends... although i usually never share fics out of tumblr. i'm excited to read through more of your writings, bai!

[1,2k] the first snow and being in love — @i-luvsang ( f )

[884] 02:36 — @hwapetals ( f )

[642] adoration — @kisshwa ( f ; sg )

[8,6k] both — @hwaightme ( s ; f )

[200] 10:24pm — @hotteoki ( f )

[986] anguish — @kisshwa ( a )

[n/a] bf texts — @hotteoki ( f )

[79] 9:22pm — @cozykpopblurbs ( f )

[1,6k] i'll be with you — @cheollipop ( f )

[519] lazy make out sessions — @crazyforhwa ( s )

[1,2k] realistic sex — @byuntrash101 ( s ; f )

윤호 YUNHO

✧ [13k + 18,2k] unprofessional attraction ; pt.1 , pt.2 , [tbc] — @jk97 ( f ; s ; a ) ↪ note: i was so engulfed into this fic that i skipped a lecture to continue reading. fics that are heavier nsfw-wise usually aren't my thing, but here, every single line pulled me in. hell, i felt even more insane about yunho after reading this. saying i'm excited about the next chapters would be an understatement.

✧ [14k] closer, face down — @ncteez ( s ; f ) ↪ note: again, although i usually prefer fluff over smut, i absolutely loved this fic... the build up made it so enticing! i don't know if a re-edit still is in the works, but i'd absolutely re-read it regardless!

✧ [84,5k] project: make you love me (series) — @hwaslayer ( f ; a ; s ) ↪ note: pulled an all nighter to read the entire series in one go... it was that fun to read! the relationship was built up at a nice, natural pace, while still keeping the reader on their toes. (this made me very excited about the seonghwa series in progress..!)

[1,1k] bedfellows — @sungbeam ( f )

[1,3k] he knows he loves you — @honeyhotteoks ( f )

[2,5k] convenience store chances — @ohmyamor ( f )

[n/a] boyfriend texts — @koizekomi ( f )

[300] nothing sweeter — @i-luvsang ( f )

[1,1k] nsfw alphabet — @yunhobug ( s )

[425] 3:52am — @edenesth ( f ; sg? )

산 SAN

✧ [3,7k] leave the window open — @sungbeam ( f ) ↪ note: so sweet. so comforting. the kind of heartwarming fic that feels like hot cocoa on a cold winter day. (also made me feel insane about san... but let's not talk about that.)

[1k] always available — @everyonewooeverywhere ( f )

✧ [1,6k] capturing us — @03jyh23 ( f ) ↪ note: another sweet, poetic, hopelessly romantic fic— my favorite kind! finding fics like these always feels like discovering a little treasure. looking forward to all the wips!

[n/a] boyfriend texts — @koizekomi ( f )

[2,6k] take a break - @cheollipop ( f ; s )

[249] 21:23 — @petitemingi ( f )

[350] boyfriend headcanons — @i-luvsang ( f )

[600] one more minute — @seonghwaddict ( f )

[1,3k] no strings, no expectations — @seonghwaddict ( a ; sg ; f? )

[468] stretch marks — @beenbaanbuun ( f )

[475] valentine's series : movies — @whimsicalwritingsandmore ( f )

[n/a] instagram stories with bf san — @lwtqts ( f )

[371] hold me — @cheeseceli ( f )

민기 MINGI

[800] untitled — @cheollipop ( a ; f )

[2,8k] mind over matter — @mingisaddctn ( s )

[256] 23:22 — @petitemingi ( f )

[1k] 23:46 — @seonghwaddict ( f )

[447] princess treatment — @cheeseceli ( f )

우영 WOOYOUNG

✧ [1,2k] broke you heart, i'll put it back together — @dairyminki ( a ; f ) ↪ note: loved this so much that i had to read it twice. something about wooyoung hopelessly in love wanting to fix this... name twin, if you're reading this, hi- i'd be seated for a part 2 if you ever have the time to write it!

[2,2k] vacation — @bobateastay ( f ; s )

OT8

[700] when you don't say i love you back — @jjunberry ( f )

[2,4k] romance tropes — @beenbaanbuun ( f )

[n/a] situationships (texts) ; pt.1 , pt.2 — @yunhoszn ( f )

[2,9k + 3k] as boyfriends ; hyung line , maknae line — @honeyhotteoks ( f : s )

[n/a] sex ban (texts) — @kisshwa ( sg ; f )

[n/a] sending you a pic of themselves (texts) — @bombuni ( f )

[1,3k] outfit turn-ons — @starillusion13 ( sg )

[1,2k] make-up sex — @nateezfics ( f ; a ; s )

[944] showering — @seonghwaddict ( f ; sg )

[1,6k] as boyfriends — @atiny-moon ( f ; sg )

[2,5k] that one specific habit they do that highlights their love language — @sanhwaism ( f )

[1,1k] top 3 kinks — @seonghwaddict ( s )

[2,8k] making out — @sxcret-garden ( sg ; f )

[n/a] asking them to draw a flower (texts) — @eightmakesonebraincell ( f )

if any link is broken, or if i made any mistake when tagging fics— please kindly let me know!

[jewreallythinkthat]

Next Shabbat, as part of the weekend of commemoration/memorial for October 7th, we are reading out the names of every person killed that day in Israel during the shul service. I have been asked to be one of the readers. We each get 100 names (roughly) and it's going to overwhelming, I already know that. We are being sent the names in advance so we can prepare, both from a pronunciation perspective but also mentally. It will likely take over an hour to read all of the names.

I don't like thinking about how fundamentally different I am as a person and my worldview is since this time last year. This time a year ago, I was chatting to one of my closest friends before she travelled to Jerusalem for her brother's wedding and promptly found herself, her entire family including her 7 month pregnant sister in the middle of a warzone.

While people I know were cheering on the massacre, I was barely sleeping as I tried to help organise getting my friend and her family out to safety while her and her family sat in bomb shelters discussing how they would have to leave behind the pregnant sister if they had to run as someone had to survive to look after her first child. We are lucky that they were in a position to get out. In Jerusalem, they were relatively protected from what happened in the south and the missiles from Hezbollah in the north. The UK government were 0 help, they did absolutely nothing to help get their citizens home.

I will not be surprised if all of us reading next week are standing in front of our congregation in tears while we read. The human brain is not designed to comprehend death on the levels we have seen in the past year and reading names will make it all the more real. I honestly think it will likely be one of the hardest things I will have done in a long time. A name makes a number into a person.

I know that to do the same with all of the innocent Palestinians who have died would take far longer and that they too are also victims of Hamas' actions on October 7th 2023 but this will be a day of mourning for our Jewish brethren and the non-Jews killed by Hamas for the crime of existing in Israel because they were all victims of the same bone deep hatred that runs through the veins of Hamas.

We will not forget them.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

can you do needy rindou but the reader is busy on a phone call with her friends?? thank you!!!

Needy!Rindou x Busy!Reader

♡ SFW, fem reader, kissing, eavesdropping, Rin being whiny and nosey ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon 🫶🏽🩷

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

🩵 This happened every time you got on the phone with your friends

🩵 Rindou would saunter into your bedroom, sit on the bed, and lay across your back (patiently waiting for attention like a little puppy)

🩵 He'd get impatient and just start kissing your face and neck, whispering and telling you to hang up the phone

"C'mon baby just hang up, they're yapping so much they won't even notice."

"Rin shush!"

"Pretty please angel? I'll buy you that outfit you've been eyeing~"

"Tempting but no."

🩵 Realizes you're not going to hang up and decides to stick around just to be nosey

🩵 Interjects during the conversation to give his opinion and ask questions, he's a gossip girl at heart

"She wore what on the date? And she posted pics...how embarrassing."

"Who? What date? Tell me baby, I wanna know."

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[fbfh]

As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+ Dave Lizewski is the kind of person who needs to grind against something while he goes down on you. he absolutely has to. he's so chronically horny all the time, now you're letting him eat you out??? god if he doesn't grind against something or jack himself off with one hand he'll get so turned on from being so close to your cunt, actually getting to touch your pussy like this that it hurts. you make him so horny it literally hurts. his cock is so hard it aches and his balls feel like they're going to burst and it's all for you. because of you. he whines a lot, panting into your cunt, addicted to the way you taste. you're so tight you even squeeze around his tongue. he can feel the way your walls give way as he flicks his tongue in and out, making out with your pussy. it's something he's only ever dreamed about, something he never knew if he was going to experience, but now your hands are pulling his hair and your thighs squeeze on either side of his face and it feels so good. you feel so good he could die. he would literally live between your legs if he could. he might not be able to literally, but by god he'll try. he wants to taste you as often as he can, and he begs so pretty for you. it's almost impossible to say no to how sincere and desperate he is for you, to turn down his little whimpers and puppy dog eyes with pretty tears prickling at the corners. when he's on his knees in front of you, hugging your thighs and kissing your stomach and begging you so sweetly to let him taste you it's impossible to say no to him like that. idk if there's a name for it but there's a 100% chance that he'll be so eager for you, so eager to please you that when you say yes you don't even have time to sit down. he goes just lowers himself a little more and throws one of your legs over his shoulder and eats you out while you're standing up I think that's called eiffel towering but I could be wrong?? Dave really really just cannot get enough of you. he looks at you with those sweet sparkly eyes and wistful lusting looks and he knows he's yours. he's only ever going to be yours.

[karlachismylife]

Soap is absolutely the man to "rush" a proposal, because he has so much love to give that it's only appropriate to express it in every way imaginable as soon as possible. It's not rushed to him, he loves you so strongly that it's the most obvious and logical step for him to take. Will probably blurt it out like a total fool, impulsive, pink hue on his cheeks and that glint of adoring lunacy in his eyes.

[m1d-45]

snapshot

summary: short, soft moments with your lover, featuring tighnari and neuvillette (separately) in that order.

word count: ~1k composite

-> warnings: big mention of bugs in tighnari's ! none shown but theyre discussed, as are bug bites. none for neuvi.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

bug bites were common among forest rangers. a special bug repellent was included in every pack, a black bottle with plain instructions. tighnari put effort into making it easy to apply and easier to understand, constantly finding new ways to promote its usage. if gone untreated, even small beestings can become serious. add onto it the fact that he was the one that inevitably had to treat them, and he had every motivation to ensure it was used. he made sure that spares were easily accessible, included demonstrations in training, and emphasized the importance of proper application before every patrol.

so why in teyvat did you keep getting bit?

every time, without fail, you returned from patrol scratching your wrist or ankle or wherever you inevitably got bit. and every time, he had to be the one to drag you to the medical hut. at least if you acknowledged the severity of the situation and brought your injuries to him on your own, that’d be understandable. he understood that the feeling of lotion wan’t bearable for everyone—he was in the process of transforming it into a mist to make it even easier—and he’d be happy to find ways to keep you inside if that was the case. there was no shortage of small chores to be done, and with collei now in full recovery, you could easily take her place.

but no. of course not. that would be too easy. his partner happened to be the most stubborn ranger on the squad, with the worst affinity for bugs he’d ever seen.

“how does this always happen to you?”

you shrug, pulling his mint plant off the shelf and beginning to tear off a few leaves. part of him is proud you at least know the proper treatment, though it’s quickly overshadowed by the angry swelling on your hand. he takes the leaves and nudges you toward the chair, searching his drawers for the rest of the poultice.

“how long ago did you get bit?”

“maybe half an hour.”

“half an-” he twisted open the tin with too much force, sighing. “and you didn’t come back immediately why?”

he can hear the smile in your voice. “it wasn’t that serious.”

“…what color was it?”

“yellow.”

“really?”

“and striped. probably a wasp.”

he didn’t know how you had the energy to be sassy, tearing the leaves into shreds and mixing it into the tin. your eyes were red with tears and you hissed when he spread the medicine over your wrist, clearly in pain. the area around your bite was hot to the touch, and he could feel his ears pull back in worry.

“why do you insist on going on patrol?” why do you insist on getting hurt?

“it’s not a big deal.” i don’t care about my pain.

“it is.” i do.

he wiped off his hands and grabbed a roll of bandages, wrapping your hand. your fingers flinched whenever he pulled it too tight. how could you insist on putting yourself at risk like this?

he taped down the end, holding your hand in his. “if it gets too itchy, come back to me, okay?” will you let me care for you?

“of course i will.” i’ll try.

he brought your hand to his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

maybe this time, you’d mean it.

rain was common in fontaine. gutters lined every road and fountains sprayed wherever there was enough room to put one. carved bricks channeled water out of the plazas, every inch of the city designed with rainfall in mind. steep roofs fell over wide awnings, thick greeting rugs in front of every building. when it rained, it poured, though no puddles lay in the streets. sharp lights cut through the dense fog hanging over ivory walls, lighting up the city even when the clouds blocked out the sun.

but the world did not come to a standstill merely because the weather asked it to. boots were sold covered in waterproof wax, many-layered skirts designed to flick off water in a single twirl. fashion was as beautiful as it was untouchable, the very idea of something being vulnerable to waterlog appalling and confusing. who would create such a thing? who would wear it without an umbrella? and, entirely separate from that: who would ever consider leaving the house without an umbrella?

umbrellas were as vital to fashion as they were to the ever-changing weather. they came in every color and shape, made to match every conceivable outfit one could wear. and if, by some miracle, you couldn’t find one that did, there were a plethora of boutiques offering custom embroidery. the steambird was eager to comment on the shifting designs across officials’ umbrellas, trends flowing in and out of their fashion column like the tide. everyone who worked in the court that had stepped outside on a rainy day—which was about as common as the sun rising—had their appearance meticulously documented; unless they refused being in the paper, of course, in which case other less-reputable sources picked up the story instead.

all were reported on, making the front page if not the headline. all, but one.

the iudex did not carry an umbrella. he also declined to entertain any questions as to why, merely stating that simple fact and moving on with his day. his hair clung to his face, even his suit darker with water. he walked down the less crowded roads so he wouldn’t bump into anybody, seeming entirely unbothered by the rain. sometimes he’d turn a palm toward the sky, as if checking that it was still there, and then continue on his way.

you always hated this habit of his. no matter how many times he insisted that he wouldn’t get sick, it was always worrying to open your door and find your lover soaked from head to toe. no water slips from him to your floors, not even from the soles of his boots, the click of his heels and your worried tone the only sound in the house. it was already late as it was, and there was no point to fuss about details at this hour.

“what happened?”

he shed his coat, suspended droplets hovering in the air around him. “the marechaussee phantom were called to mount automnequi; a melusine was badly injured by a rogue mek, and a fisherman had to pull her from the sea. i paid her a visit after work.”

that would explain things. he lets you wipe off his face, careful not to smudge the eyeliner that never seems to fade. already, the rain was beginning to let up, lightening from a downpour. rain in fontaine was as fickle as it was frequent…

“is she alright?”

“of course. the gardiennage provides excellent doctors.”

“then there’s no need to worry.” cupping his now-dry face in your hands, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “she’ll be back in her feet in no time.”

the slightest of smiles crossed his face, his hands keeping yours on him. outside, the skies were clearing, pale blue quickly streaming through the clouds.

perhaps umbrellas would fall out of fashion soon, if rains could cease before they truly had the chance to begin.

[aventurineswife]

im under the assumption that requests are open, so uhmmmm

ahem-

can i request Aventurine giving Reader a hug or whatever physical affection, and Reader starts crying because of that? (Reader is crying because it's been a long time since they were last touched/held, and the thought of someone wanting to touch/hold them is very scary. even the sensation behind being touched/held is almost overstimulating, despite how badly they want to be held)

i know my request is, uh, oddly specific ?? hope that's ok with you tho 🧍‍♂️ im one of the few dorks out there that is so touch-starved that i cry when it happens lol,,, it's not that i hate touch, my brain just can't register it.

“If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did”

Summary: After a long time without any physical affection, you’re overwhelmed when Aventurine gives you a comforting hug. The sensation is almost too much, and you break down, finally allowing yourself to be vulnerable. Aventurine reassures you with gentle words and a steady presence, letting you know he’s there for you whenever you need.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Emotional Vulnerability, Reassurance, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Emotional Overwhelm, Touch Starvation, Reader Crying.

A/N: Don’t worry, Rose! My requests are open, so feel free to drop yours whenever you like! ;) And don’t worry, your requests aren’t weird or anything—actually, they’re cute and wholesome. 🤧🥺 I can also relate to the touch-starved feeling, though I’m uncomfortable with people touching me without consent (trauma). I’d be fine with holding hands or arms, though. :') Hope you enjoy this! And remember, you're valid! 💖🌹🫂 *Sending virtual hugs <33*

Sorry this uh rushed and I didn't edit it properly and got to your request late :')

The room was quiet, save for the soft murmur of the city outside. Aventurine led you in, his gentle hand resting on your back. You felt your pulse race as he guided you to sit on the sofa, his easy confidence steadying you as you took a shaky breath. Tonight, he’d traded his playful banter for a quieter presence. His usual grin softened, and his eyes were filled with something far more tender.

You sat beside him, hands twisting nervously in your lap, feeling that comforting warmth radiating off him. Despite how close he was, you couldn’t shake the distance you felt from it, as if an invisible wall held you back. It was as though you were tethered to a feeling you couldn’t escape—something that had kept you from letting anyone close for so long.

“Are you alright?” Aventurine’s voice was low and gentle, his words laced with concern. He reached out, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, the gesture simple, yet it felt like a landslide of emotion.

And then, without another word, he drew you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest. The sudden warmth, his touch, the feeling of his heart beating steadily—it was too much. A wave of sensation hit you, so foreign yet so needed, and before you could stop yourself, tears blurred your vision.

You hadn’t been held like this in so long, hadn’t felt this kind of closeness. It scared you, left you trembling in his embrace as the ache in your chest spilled over into silent sobs. Every part of you was screaming that this was wrong, that you couldn’t trust it, that you shouldn’t let yourself need it so badly. Yet Aventurine held you tightly, his presence unwavering, silently urging you to let go.

“Hey… you’re safe here,” he whispered, a hand rubbing slow circles along your back. “I’ve got you.”

You felt his hand press against your back, steady and comforting, grounding you with each small touch. His other hand cupped the back of your head, cradling you as though you were the most fragile thing in the world. His words, low and close to your ear, were soft promises that left no room for doubt.

The tears came harder, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his coat against your cheek. You clung to him, fingers clutching the back of his shirt as though he might disappear if you let go. Every part of you felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that was terrifying, yet liberating.

“I’m sorry...” you managed, voice muffled against him.

“For what?” He shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes, usually playful and glinting with mischief, were filled with nothing but understanding and warmth. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Your words choked up, and you simply shook your head, a fresh wave of tears welling up. You couldn’t explain it; it was too raw, too deeply ingrained in every wall you’d ever built around yourself. But Aventurine seemed to understand. He stayed, hands gently brushing up and down your back, thumb tracing soothing circles along your shoulder.

And in that moment, for the first time in ages, you felt safe. The warmth, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the quiet strength in his hold—it reminded you that maybe it was okay to let yourself be held, to be cared for, even if it was overwhelming. His hand found yours, fingers entwining, grounding you in the here and now.

“Whenever you need this,” he murmured, his voice steady and filled with reassurance, “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise lingered in the quiet, like a lifeline you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. You let yourself lean into him, allowing the tears to finally fall as he held you, the world slipping away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, safety, and an unspoken promise of more moments like this—of a love that was patient enough to wait.

This is so Aventurine 😪💛