Twisted Wonderland Characters : comforting you headcanons [🌶️]
🌶️ - NSFW/SEMI-SPICY HC WARNING
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Minors, DNI. 🔞
You’re crying too hard to speak, and he’s frozen at first as he pulls you into his arms, cupping your face with trembling hands. “I’m right here.. I won’t let anything hurt you,” he whispers, voice cracking. But when your lips find his, desperate and trembling, he kisses back with a raw, urgent hunger— and suddenly, he’s holding you tighter, whispering your name like a lifeline as he lets you forget everything but him.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, gently stroking your hair as you bury your face in his chest. His voice is calm, his touch grounding until your lips brush his collarbone, and something shifts in the air. “Alright.. if this’ll take your mind off things,” he breathes, his hands moving lower, kisses trailing fire as he makes you fall apart in his arms— slow, deep, healing.
He wipes your tears with a soft “aw, sweetheart,” hugging you close and swaying gently. “Wanna forget for a bit? Let me distract you,” he coos.. and when you nod, broken and needy, he pulls you into his lap and kisses you like a promise. He keeps whispering you’re beautiful, you’re safe, you’re his— until your tears are replaced with soft gasps and shivers under his playful, loving touch.
“You’re crying? Hey, who made you feel like that?” he asks, angry at the world, but softer when you curl into him. “Alright, dummy.. If you won't tell me then allow me to fix it,” he mutters, and when your lips brush his neck, his resolve crumbles. He kisses you hard and urgent, laying you down gently like you might break— he even swears he’ll make you feel so good that you won’t even remember why you were upset.
His hands hover like he’s afraid to break you, heart breaking when you sniffle against his chest. “I-I want to make it better.. please let me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. When you nod, breath shaky, he leans in and kisses you slowly, reverently— the moment your hands tangle in his shirt, he lets himself fall too, giving you everything, holding nothing back.
You curl up beside him, face hidden in his chest, and he mutters something about “brats who don’t take care of themselves.” But the moment he feels your tears on his skin, his fingers tilt your chin up gently — and his lips meet yours, slow and grounding. “Forget it all,” he murmurs, pushing you down with lazy hunger, “just let me take care of you for once.”
“Aw, hey, hey.. no cryin’, ‘kay?” he says gently, arms around you as he rocks you side to side. But when you press your lips to his throat with a trembling whimper, he swallows hard. “Guess I gotta give you the deluxe comfort package,” he grins shakily, before trailing kisses down your body— each one meant to replace a tear.
He’s stiff at first, letting you cling to him, his face red as he pats your back awkwardly.. but then your voice breaks, so does his composure. “Allow me to help you, yeah?,” he says, gentle but desperate, and when your lips find his, he kisses you like he’s finally allowed to love you. His hands are warm and slow, grounding you, guiding you through the ache until you’re gasping beneath him instead of crying.
He panics when he sees your tears, grabbing tissues and trying to fix it.. until you touch his face and say his name like it’s the only thing anchoring you. “Do you.. need a distraction, my dear?” he asks softly, voice shaking, and when you nod, he kisses you like he’s starving. Each kiss becomes slower, deeper, more unrestrained— when he finally lays you down, he added with a whisper of “Forget everything else. Tonight, you belong with me”
He listens quietly, fingers brushing your hair while you cry, his presence calm, unshakable — until your voice cracks and you beg him not to leave. “Then let me stay,” he whispers, kissing your tears away slowly, hands finding your waist. His lips trail heat along your skin with every whispered reassurance.. now he’s comforting you in the most intoxicating, addictive way.
“Who made you cry, huh? I’ll squeeze ‘em,” he growls.. but the moment you tug on his shirt and crumble into his chest, he goes quiet. “Heh, you want me to make it better?” he murmurs against your ear, grin lazy but his eyes intense. Then he’s lifting you up like nothing, pinning you to the bed with a low growl, and saying, “Forget all that stuff— just focus on me.”
He finds you curled up in the Scarabia lounge and instantly drops everything, sliding in behind you and wrapping you in his arms— skin warm, scent spiced like citrus and sandalwood. His hands smooth gentle circles over your waist beneath your shirt, humming softly in your ear as he presses fluttering kisses down your neck, murmuring, “I’ll chase every bad thought away, okay? Just let me hold you a little longer.”
He notices something’s off the moment you walk in, so he pulls you into his room and locks the door without a word. The comfort he offers is quiet but deep— his fingers slipping under your collar as he undoes a few buttons with practiced calm, lips brushing your throat as he breathes, “Let me take care of you tonight.. just relax for me.”
Your tears smear against his chest, and he doesn’t flinch— just holds you closer, murmuring, “You’re allowed to break down here.” He kisses you once, soft and intentional, then again, deeper, as if pulling you back together through each touch. “Let me cleanse every ugly thoughts on your mind,” he breathes, voice velvet, hands gliding down your sides as his lips taste away the pain.
He holds you in silence for a long time, his heartbeat steady under your cheek— then he murmurs, “Mon trésor.. let me worship you through your sorrow.” The passion builds like poetry, slow and unyielding, as he lays you down gently with eyes full of longing. Each kiss feels like reverence, every gasp he pulls from you feels like a vow to never let the world dim your light ever again.
He’s quiet when you first come to him, holding you tight with his whole body tense— but when you reach for him, he kisses you with something raw and aching. “If touchin’ me helps you forget it.. then don’t stop,” he whispers against your lips, desperate to make you feel good instead of broken. His movements are frantic, emotional, clinging to you like he’s the one who needs saving.
He’s spiraling right alongside you, panicking over your tears.. until you grab his hand and say, “Just stay with me, please.” He kisses you once, twice, like it’s the only way he knows how to protect you— and when you tug him closer, he trembles. “N-no one’s ever needed me before,” he whispers, and then gives in completely needy, vulnerable, worshipping you in shaky kisses and heated gasps.
You collapse into him, his wings instinctively wrap around you, shielding you from the world. “Let me take all the burden.. and give you something else to remember,” he murmurs with ancient tenderness— then kisses you like it’s a 20000 years old sacred rite. Every brush of his lips feels eternal, slow and divine, and soon he’s pressing you into the mattress with a hunger that aches just as deeply as your pain.
“Aw, poor thing.. you came all the way here to fall apart in my arms, didn’t you?” he teases— but his fingers are gentle, stroking your face. He kisses you sweetly at first, then more intensely as you shudder beneath him, losing yourself in him. “Let me make you forget the whole world,” he hums, voice turning low, playful, and full of wicked promise.
You fall into his arms without a word, and he just holds you, his breathing matching yours. “I want to carry this pain for you,” he says quietly— then kisses you so deeply that you forget your name, let alone the reason you cried. He’s patient, soothing, his body moving with yours until all that’s left is the safety of his warmth and soft gasps in the dark.
He’s flustered, frantic, unsure of how to help but when you whisper his name and pull him closer, something inside him snaps. “I.. I shall give you every bit of comfort I possess!” he declares, and kisses you with intense, almost reverent desperation. Each motion is stiff at first, then melts into instinct— and before long, he’s panting your name and begging you to stay in his arms a little longer.
He holds you and cries a little too, overwhelmed by how much pain you’re in. “You don’t have to smile,” he whispers, before gently pressing kisses to your cheeks, your neck, your lips. Later on, he’s holding you close as he murmurs sweet nothings, letting his love pour out in every soft touch until all the hurt is replaced by warmth.
He’s never looked so serious as his ears are drooping as he sees the tears in your eyes, lips twitching with worry. “Need a distraction?” he purrs, brushing your cheek with a clawed fingertip— then he kisses you upside-down, sideways, backwards, and somewhere between kisses you’re giggling through sniffles as he turns it all into heated laughter and passion. His kisses are wild and playful, until you forget why you were ever sad.
He cradles your face gently, uncharacteristically quiet as you shake in his arms. “Let me take it all away— just for tonight,” he murmurs, and when you nod, his lips find yours with a hunger that surprises even him. He kisses you like he’s drowning, losing his mind and his mask as he shows you how deeply he’s always felt.. and how badly he wants you to stay in his arms, even if it means forever.
He hushes your sobs with velvet words, stroking your hair as you cling to his coat. “Darling, let me show you something far more divine than sadness,” he says, voice sultry and soft— then he kisses you like a storm was just rolling in. His hands are confident, teasing, guiding you into a night of pleasure and full of whispered reassurances as your mind is “deliciously” blank.
He silently holds you to his chest, letting you cry against his shoulder, fingers tracing slow circles on your back. “You’ve been strong for far too long, It's okay to be overwhelmed/stressed out because of your students” he murmurs, then kisses you gently— a single kiss that deepens with each shaky breath. There’s a quiet heat to him, deep and comforting, like firelight that slowly becomes a blaze.
“Let it all out, champ— don’t hold back now,” he says firmly, letting you sob against him. But the moment you pull him close, needing more than just strength, he groans low in his throat and lifts you easily into his arms. “I’ll remind you just how alive you are,” he says as he trails kisses down your neck as the air turns hotter and heavier.
He hums a gentle tune, holding you while you weep, and his voice is so soothing it almost hypnotizes you. “Feelin’ low, darlin’? Don't worry.. I’ve got just the thing for ya,” he murmurs, pressing slow, teasing kisses along your collarbone. His touch is soft yet magnetic, pulling you into his rhythm until your sadness melts away with each heated breath.
You come to him trembling, and he stiffens— not out of rejection, but restraint. “Prefect.. You shouldn’t come to me like this,” he says, but the moment your fingers grasp his robe, he breaks. His kisses are desperate and quiet, the passion he’s buried finally unraveling— and he whispers prayers between each kiss like you’re something sacred he shouldn’t touch, but can't stop craving.
