Tumgik
#physical touch
searching4lust · 10 hours
Text
Oh to be loved so bad that he sends whimpering audios >:(
Tumblr media
29 notes · View notes
cinderella-ish · 2 days
Text
Yuki, Kakeru, and the boyhoods they never had
So, I was talking with my partner the other day about how Kakeru and Yuki are always touching each other (one of many reasons they're the most popular non-canonical furuba pairing on Ao3). Anyway, it got me thinking-- if we don't read all this physical contact as necessarily romantic, what are some other possible explanations? An examination:
When Yuki first meets Kakeru, he immediately gets up in his face talking about his favorite Super Sentai character, then walks him out of the student council office with an arm around his neck, despite Yuki's obvious discomfort.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When Kakeru puts a hand on his shoulder soon after, he teases Yuki about his feminine features. Yuki bats his hand away and decides he already hates Kakeru.
In Kakeru's next appearance, he puts a hand on Yuki's shoulder, removing it when Yuki gives him a death glare.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When Kakeru stays behind that day to needle Yuki about Tohru, Yuki is the one to initiate touch this time. This leads to the two of them sharing a moment of vulnerability and the true beginning of their friendship. Kakeru putting his thumbs up on Yuki's shoulder is also a change to the way he's touched Yuki before - it's perhaps a bit more comfortable for Yuki, who's reacted negatively to all touch from Kakeru before this. Kakeru's communicating in his own way that he'll try and consider Yuki's needs from now on.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Next, we have the Kyoto trip, in which Yuki is still not fully comfortable with Kakeru (shown by his embarrassment when he tells Kakeru they wouldn't be friends anymore), but is starting to consider him a friend and spend time with him intentionally. We also have some sweet moments like this exchange between Haru and Kakeru, which Kakeru takes very seriously.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After this, Yuki finally learns (some of) Kakeru's backstory when he goes to help Kakeru clean up after Machi destroyed the student council office again. Yuki gets context for why Kakeru is the way that he is, learns about the successorship conflict, and then tries out some Kakeru chaos for himself. We also see Yuki initiate touch for the third time. I think this episode is where the real shift in their relationship happened. Yuki sees that there's a wisdom to Kakeru that he wasn't seeing without that context of Kakeru's oppressive childhood-- something to which Yuki can relate all too well. In a way, Kakeru's impulsiveness and sense of fun is his own way of either reclaiming or living out the childhood he didn't get to have, along with other traits like his love of Super Sentai.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And now, a brief aside.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
We see pretty clearly that the other three cursed Sohma boys around Yuki's age are all pretty comfortable interacting with each other physically. Kyo will roughhouse with Haru and give Momiji noogies, Momiji will hug or lean on both Kyo and Haru. These sorts of interactions began when they were young boys, and are pretty typical of boys through adolescence. Yuki, being shut in a room with Akito or alone, didn't get to have that experience of boyhood. All his physical interactions with Kyo are negative, and his physical interactions with Momiji are neutral-ish (Momiji jumps on him at the culture festival, Yuki dabs his tears in Kisa's first episode, and Yuki scolds Momiji a handful of times). (Aside within the aside: while Haru sometimes reciprocates the affection from Momiji or rough play from Kyo, he clearly has a special way of physically interacting with Yuki in the T-shape and shirt pinch, or the stroking of his chin, etc..., and he initiates touch with Yuki much more often than with the other two, likely because he noticed that as one more thing Yuki was missing out on and wanted to include him in a way that would be comfortable for him.)
So when Kakeru tells Yuki about his childhood, and Yuki gets stuck in the storage room later that episode and has a flashback to his own terrible childhood, he's already primed to open up to Kakeru about his own childhood and to start looking at the world more like Kakeru does.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So, after that day, their friendship becomes much more physical. Yuki no longer bats away Kakeru's hand and even initiates touch more often. They roughhouse and Kakeru often puts his arm around Yuki in a gesture of affection. To me, it's a way of reclaiming those experiences they didn't get to have in their childhood-- especially the type of friendships neither of them got to form when they were younger.
24 notes · View notes
theeroticlover · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mhmm !! I crave your moans...
16K notes · View notes
Text
Love Languages
Physical Touch
Expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection.
hugging - just random, to give energy, to breathe them in
holding hands every chance they have
sitting close together, touching each other
gently massaging their partner
casually putting a hand on the other's body
pulling their partner on their lap
dancing together
being their big spoon
casually kissing their partner
warming their partner up by rubbing their body
running hands through their hair
cuddling on the couch together
letting them lay their head on their partner's lap
squeezing their knee in a public setting
pushing hair back behind the other’s ear
initiating sex and paying attention to their partner's preferences
More: Seeking out physical affection | Hand-holding | Hugs | Kisses | Touching | Cute interactions
3K notes · View notes
vroomvroomwee · 6 months
Text
If I ever give you an interesting rock without uttering a word, you should know that that is the highest form of love I am capable of displaying and the highest honour I can bestow upon you
4K notes · View notes
lilbabyvalentine · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
bunny-lovez · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Affection
1K notes · View notes
forpsalms · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Embrace (Unknown)
16K notes · View notes
loudrunawaygardener · 2 months
Text
I love how Merlin holds Arthur's head when he drinks that close-to-death poison in the troll stepmother episode.
And how he cradles Arthur's head on his lap when Arthur fought the questing beast.
And how he has to adjust an already adjusted collar and Arthur let's him even though he's fawning over Vivian.
But to be honest, I just really like how Arthur's hands always find Merlin, usually to pull him back, or get him to follow along. The shoulder pats are aborted attempts of cradling Merlin's face. It's so gentle and caring I could cry.
1K notes · View notes
Text
That Look - The Desire
Tumblr media
Mmmm That Look When Desire & Release Meet
2K notes · View notes
imfinereallyy · 1 year
Text
Steve always tells people "I love you" before saying bye to them. Maybe it's the years of Upside Down trauma, worrying that these words could be his last. Maybe it's the fact his parents never say it before leaving (if they even bothered to say anything to him at all). Maybe it's because each time his parents were away he thinks that this might be the time they never come back, and he isn't even sure if they love him. Maybe it's due to his years of King Steve, hurting others more than loving.
It doesn't really matter though, the why. What matters is that Steve has made it his mission to always do it before his goodbyes (especially after round three of the Upside Down). Always making sure to even say a quick "Love you! Bye!" as he is rushing out the door.
At first, everyone is a bit put off by it. Especially Nancy who at first thought it was a love confession until Steve turns to Jonathan and says the exact same thing. The kids think he's being gross and mushy, even an exasperated "mommmm" is thrown in his direction every once in and while. Robin is the only one who is receptive to it right away. A soft, "love you too dingus" she says to him, no matter if they are attached to the hip or in a screaming match that day.
Eventually, though, everyone accepts this as Steve's new normal. Gentle smiles, light snorts, and bruising punches (thanks max) are the responses given. But then after round four of the Upside Down, everyone seems to now embrace this part of Steve. Never forgetting to say "I love you too" in return.
Steve's heart comes a little closer to healing each time.
Steve only begins to realize it's a problem though when it comes to Eddie.
Steve finds that Eddie is the only one he has to resist saying it to. See, Steve over the years has become better at providing verbal affection. Note, his "I love you's" had blossomed into "I am proud of you" and "I'm worried about you" and so much more. He has grown out of the years of repressed emotion (well, he was actively learning to at least).
What Steve hasn't gotten better at is touch. Steve yearns for it, craves it in fact, but can't find it in him to reach out. His fear of rejection is too great. And Steve's friends don't really give out touch to those who don't actively seek it.
Eddie though may be the touchiest person he has ever met. It's small stuff at first.
A shoulder brush.
A clap on the back.
A poke in the ribs.
But then it soon turns into bigger stuff.
A boop on the nose.
A tug at his hair.
A goddamn hug from behind.
It's overwhelming, it's intoxicating. Steve can't really tell if it's good or bad for his health. And Steve knows if he asks Eddie to stop he will. Despite his touchy tendencies, the guy understood boundaries. But the problem is that Steve doesn't want him to stop.
The problem is that Eddie's constant physical affection is starting to collide with Steve's need to express verbal affection. The problem is Eddie is starting to fill the rest of the void in his heart. The problem is Steve...
The problem is Steve has to stop himself from expressing his normal "I love you's" because he knows it will mean something different, something more this time. He knows everyone will notice the difference after their years of hearing him say it.
So, Steve never says it to Eddie.
It's no biggie really. Or so Steve thinks until Eddie corners him in the kitchen during one of their game nights.
"Steve, do you...do you have a problem with me?" Eddie asks shyly, staring down at his boots. It was an odd look on him as Eddie was normally larger than life, commanding a room. It hurt Steve to see him like this.
"What? Why would you think that?" Steve asks shocked.
"Not really a no, Harrington." Eddie chuckles darkly, "And don't think I didn't notice but you kinda have a hangup about saying I love you to everyone except me. And ya know, I wouldn't really be offended really if it was cause we haven't known each other very long and ya know, cause I'm a guy. But then, I see you saying it to Argyle. Real easily in fact. And it wouldn't bother me if it was because we weren't close, but Stevie—" Eddie's voice cracks a little, as he slips into his nickname for Steve. Steve knows now, how serious Eddie is being. "—you've gotten to know me better than anyone in this whole stupid state. And that's including Wayne. Hell, you might even be my best friend even though I'm not yours. I'm not delusional I know no one can knock Robin from that spot." Eddie is rambling so hard that he gives Robin a run for her money. Steve thinks for a moment, that the two have been spending too much time together.
Steve stays silent as he walks towards Eddie to stand directly in front of him. Eddie continues without noticing. "Then I worry, it's because maybe. Maybe it's because you found out that I am gay. And that, you had a problem with that. That you have a problem with me." Eddie's voice starts off shaky but then turns into steel as he finishes. He makes sure to keep direct eye contact with Steve, driving his point.
Steve first thinks, wait Eddie's gay? Then Steve processes everything, panics, and loses his filter completely. Throws his worry about losing his best friend (don't tell Robin, but she's his soulmate so she'll forgive him) out the window, and throws his heart on the table instead. "Jesus, no Eds. I—shit. It's not that at all. Like I don't care about that stuff. You know that. I love Robin regardless."
Eddie gives him a look that screams, we both know why it's different. Steve pushes forwards anyway. "And it's not that I don't want to say it to you. It's just, it's different okay. Like with everyone else, I don't have to worry about it being bullshit. And god that sounds bad, but I don't know how else to say it. And I just know if I say it, if I say it you'll just know it's different, and then you'll hate me and it's one thing for the others to not say it back at first, but I think it might kill me if you didn't. And that's not fair to put that pressure on you." God, now Steve could give Robin a run for her money.
"Sweetheart—"
Steve cuts him off, he knows if he doesn't say it now he won't say it all. "God Eddie if you knew how much I cared—if you knew how much I worried every time you leave. If you knew how much I worry about how I don't say it to you when you leave, how I might not ever get to say it, it would terrify you, Eddie. This isn't a normal amount of affection. This is like—what's the word—astronomical amounts of affection. Cause Eddie, it takes everything in me every single time you walk away to not say I. Love. You."
Steve hears it, how he says it. He knows how it's going to sound before it comes out. How it's different. How it's more. Steve closes his eyes in shame.
Eddie's hand cups Steve's cheek. "Baby."
The hush, but the firm tone makes Steve open his eyes. Eddie has gotten so close they are breathing the same air. Steve's heart stutters.
"Baby," Eddie says again, before giving Steve the one affectionate touch he hasn't gotten yet.
A kiss.
A soft, heartstopping kiss. A kiss that has Steve's soul bursting at the seams.
Steve leans his forehead against Eddie's, feeling content for the first time in weeks. Knowing this was Eddie's way of saying it back.
Though, the delicate "I love you too." that Eddie whispers against Steve's lips doesn't hurt either.
Not even a little bit.
sometimes I set out to write a quick little thing…and sometimes that little thing turns into a big thing. enjoy :)
p.s. I apologize if there are any tense changes, I wrote this at 1 am lol
5K notes · View notes
schmidtkisser · 2 months
Text
Showering Together
pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader
word count: 1.9k
synopsis: mike joins you in the shower after you both had a long day
content: established relationship between you and mike, 2nd person point of view, mike is very touch starved, he struggles with his self esteem but is reassured by your love for him, comfort/fluff (and lots of it), love language: physical touch, you’re both naked obviously but nothing explicit happens
a/n: as mentioned above, fic is strictly comfort/fluff! might be suggestive, but it does not mention genitalia nor is it sexual in nature. also, first time posting here, hi :-)
★彡★彡★彡
Small wisps of steam fill the atmosphere, accompanied by sound of the water pattering against the tiled floor. Your shoulders roll back, relaxing as you feel the smooth rush of water flow over your back. Your stray thoughts wander freely in your mind, reflecting on the different things you did today.
You let out a soft and content huff, smiling to yourself as you think of Abby, the young girl you babysit routinely. You had just finished up your babysitting duties, having tucked her into bed almost an hour ago. The thought of the fun conversations and adventures you shared with her today were memories you couldn’t help but cherish.
Though, your lingering train of thought was interrupted at the sound of the bathroom door handle creaking at a turn.
You grow concerned, making an automatic assumption that it was Abby behind the door. Is she still awake? Perhaps she needs something? You comb back your wet hair with your fingers, droplets clinging to the tips of the strands before you peek your head out from behind the shower curtains.
“Abby?” You call out, your eyes casting a glance at the door. But instead of a 10 year old girl, you make eye contact with her brother (and your boyfriend), Mike, instead.
“Nope. Just me.” He spoke, inviting himself into the bathroom once he saw your face. He let out an amused huff at your immediate assumption that he was Abby. You notice his tired eyes softening as he looks at you, and it makes your heart flutter.
He quietly shuts the door behind him with the heel of his foot. “You been in here long?”
You shake your head, your fingers gently clutching onto the curtain as you give him a smile. “Wanna join me?”
A small blush dusts his cheeks as he gives you a singular nod in response. He starts to undress himself - jutting his shoulders back to push his jacket sleeves off his arms. He takes a hold of his shirt, clutching onto it to pull over his head. He leans a palm against the door, using the other hand to pull his socks off, and then fidgets with the button of his jeans before tugging them off with his boxers. His bare body would shiver at the cold air, if not for the steam accumulating from the warm water.
You carefully watch his movements, feeling a flutter in your stomach every time he removes an article of clothing. You love everything about him. The way his curls became ever so slightly ruffled when he pulled his shirt off. The look of his body, built - yet soft around the edges. You love how particular he is, even for a chore as simple and mundane as stripping off clothes for a shower.
He lazily tosses his clothes into the laundry hamper, making his way over to the shower to join you. He makes eye contact with you again, taking notice of the fact you watched while he undressed. The thought flusters him slightly, but he doesn’t mind it.
“Were you gawking at me the whole time I was taking my clothes off?” Mike asks, humour in his monotone voice as he carefully steps into the shower. He presses a small kiss against your temple once he was under the water with you.
“I couldn’t help it,” you say, your cheeks reddening upon the realisation that he felt your gaze the entire time. “Not when you’re so attractive.”
The comment makes the corner of his lip curl into a warm smile. In your relationship, looks weren’t important. In fact, it was the one thing that mattered the least. But the fact you found someone like him attractive made his mind buzz - especially since he never had the time or energy to maintain a perfect appearance.
He wishes you knew how much such a little compliment meant to him. “I could say the same thing about you.”
A giggle escapes your lips as he bounces the compliment back at you. A moment of silence fills the air as you gaze into each others’ eyes. His brown puppy eyes never fail to make you swoon.
You reach a hand up to his face, his cheek in your palm whilst your thumb gently traced the outline of the dark circles beneath his eyes. His eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your palm, melting in your touch as small droplets of water trickle down his face. He looks so relaxed, something he rarely feels anymore because of work, finances, and other responsibilities. He wishes he could stay in your hold forever, not having to worry about anything anymore.
“Could you,” he murmurs, gradually opening his eyes once more. The bathroom light is almost blinding, he squints slightly before adjusting his sight to you with half-lidded eyes. He feels a rush of embarrassment run through him as he hesitantly finishes his question. “…Wash my back for me?”
You couldn’t help but grin slightly at his request. Of course, it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to wash himself - but the simple ask solidified how much he trusts you, and how comfortable he feels around you. “Of course.”
He averts his gaze from yours, leaning against your palm ever so slightly as he craves more of your touch. You trail your palm down to his shoulders, nudging him gently. Mike nods and faces the shower wall, his back now exposed to you. You take the soap sitting on the shower rack, lathering it between your hands before gently pushing your palms up against his back.
You slide your hands down his skin, carefully brushing past his shoulder blades, the water running over the curves of his back in streams of droplets. You feel the tension in his muscles ease against the mere feeling of your touch.
Your every move was tender and full of love, adoring the shape of your boyfriend. Soap massaged between your hands and his back, washing him thoroughly. You can feel yourself falling deeper in love with him the longer you keep your hands on him.
God, if this isn’t love, you don’t know what is.
You can’t help yourself any longer, moving a little bit closer to him to pepper small kisses up his back, to his shoulder blades, until you reach the nape of his neck. He lets out a soft gasp, melting further into your touch. Your hearts race in sync, and your hands snake around the frame of his body to wash his stomach and chest from behind. Your kisses remain gentle and sweet, your lips exploring the area around his neck as you leave no skin untouched.
The feeling of Mike in your arms, his wet curls against your forehead as you lean against him makes your head feel woozy. He feels the same way. He feels so safe in your grasp, so eased, comfortable, loved. Being so close to you feels like your fragile hearts are going to melt together into one.
Nothing but the rushing sound of the water and your breaths filled the room. Not a single word had been exchanged since you began to wash him. The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it daunting - rather, it was peaceful and calm. Everything feels so, so still.
You repeat this process with his arms and legs too - he didn’t even have to ask. Despite the hard appearance of his arms, the muscle was soft as you squeeze them in your grasp. His eyes soften, watching you as you caress your hands from his shoulders, to his forearm, down to his own hands. Your fingers slowly intertwine with his, your palms pressing together as your heart begins to pick up its pace. You let out a breath, your eyes locking.
The closing gap between you two was subconscious. Before you could even process it, your faces were just inches away from one another, his breath brushing against your skin, almost as if he is teasing you with a kiss. Tilting your head slightly, your eyes flutter shut, finally closing the lingering gap between your lips. It didn’t take Mike long to kiss you back.
Mike hesitantly breaks the handholding. His calloused hands move onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You could feel your heart race faster when he travels his hands behind you, sliding them upwards, feeling your wet, naked back as he explores every inch of your soft lips with his own.
Your hands reach his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, exploring the prickled texture of his stubble beneath your fingertips. You want him, and he wants you too.
You pull away momentarily to take a breath, but Mike chases your lips for another kiss. His mouth cupped over yours, cutting your gasp short as he initiated a more intimate exchange. Your tongues meet, and you can feel his slide up against yours, savouring every second, every taste. A groan slipped out from his throat, muffled between your lips. There was no space left between your bodies, the hot shower pouring over you both.
You kiss until you’re left breathless and lightheaded. He rocks you in his arms, careful in his movements to prevent you from slipping. You can’t help but focus on the way he treats you with utmost delicacy - as if he was scared of ever letting you go. It urges you to push yourself closer to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You want to reassure him that you are always here for him, and that he feels it with every kiss, every touch, and every loving exchange you share.
Your methods never fail to leave him so helplessly infatuated with you.
This time, Mike was the one to pull back with a heavy gasp, his lips a little swollen with love. You pant with him, collecting your breath after kissing for minutes on end. Honestly, it only felt like seconds. It was something you and Mike could drag on for hours.
You flutter your eyes open, your foreheads touching as you gaze into his eyes. It almost surprises you to see his eyes glossy with tears, but you don’t say a thing. Your eyes soften, a hand trailing up to comb his wet locks between your fingers. You silently respond to his feelings by pecking the tip of his nose.
Mike’s eyes widen for a brief second from the contact, before breaking into the smallest smile. The rare sight made you feel light, as if you were high up in the skies. Your fingers were well beyond pruned by now, but you sink deeper in his embrace.
He continues to hold you in a cradle, leaning in to rest his chin on the crook of your neck. You shiver at the feeling of his stubble against your skin, your fingers carefully clutching him in response. He let out a sigh, his chest falling with his breath.
He always felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, or that he didn’t deserve someone like you — yet, you remain in his arms. He holds you closer, your naked bodies pressed against each other. Knowing you are right here, cupped delicately in his arms is a feeling he’ll never take for granted.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N,” he whispers close to your ear, rocking you ever so subtly in his arms. “I love you so much.”
You soften, mirroring his position, resting your cheek against his neck. You smile, even if he couldn’t see it.
“I love you too, Mike.”
476 notes · View notes
thenerdykneazle · 3 months
Text
Her Touch
Summary: Ominis had never been fond of being touched. Or, at least, he had few positive experiences with it. That changed with the arrival of the new fifth-year.
Ominis Gaunt x F!MC
Warnings: 18+ (only very mild spice here but I do want to do a time jumped part 2 that would be explicit), mentions of Ominis's abusive family, touch-starved Ominis
Word count: 3004
The first time you touched Ominis, he hadn’t been expecting it. It was in the Scriptorium, after he had commanded the door to open in Parseltongue. You had excitedly grabbed his shoulders as you said, “Ominis! You possess a rare ability, indeed!”
He had jumped at the sudden contact. Though, fortunately, you hadn’t seemed to notice. Your attention was quickly monopolised by Sebastian. Ominis was glad for it, as he wouldn’t have wanted to offend you, especially after his outburst at you outside the Undercroft. He still marvelled at how understanding you had been – how quickly you had forgiven him. He wasn’t used to such mercy. Certainly not from his family, and even Sebastian had a tendency to hold a grudge. Ominis definitely did.
Down in the Scriptorium, it had caught him off guard when you grabbed him, as he couldn’t see it coming. Besides, he didn’t generally like being touched. He hadn’t had many positive instances of others being in his personal space.
Most often, it involved accidentally bumping into other students. Other times, it was someone grabbing him to lead him off somewhere without bothering to get his permission first. Growing up, it had included a lot of being dragged by his ear by his mother or his older brother shoving him out of his way. The consequence of all of it was that Ominis did not associate being touched with positive experiences. They were jarring, often painful encounters.
However, already by the second time you touched him, it was different. Still in the Scriptorium, you had rested your hand on his arm as you told him you had found his Aunt Noctua’s remains. You didn’t grab his forearm; you just rested your hand gently on it. Not even your whole hand – just the tips of your fingers, really. It was a whisper of a touch, but you let it linger there. It was oddly comforting – like you were trying to communicate that he wasn’t alone. It kept him grounded to reality as he reckoned with the fact that his aunt truly was gone.
The third touch was when you agreed to tell Ominis if Sebastian was going to pursue dark magic further. You’d rested a hand on his shoulder as you vowed to tell him. He could tell you were sincere in your promise from your steady hand. That was verified when he received your owl alerting him that Sebastian had gone to the catacombs in search of Slytherin’s relic.
Though he always tried to take note, Ominis couldn’t remember every time you touched him. As your friendship grew, he quickly found out that you were what Sebastian called a “touchy-feely type.” You would hug him hello and goodbye, often multiple times a day. At first, you’d just sling one arm behind his back with your sides pressed together. After several months, you would wrap both arms around him as you held him chest-to-chest. Those hugs always left his face warm and his heart beating faster.
You also started to rest your head on his shoulder when you got tired. You always asked if it was all right. Ominis was surprised with himself the first few times, because he found that he quite enjoyed the weight and warmth of your head on his shoulder. You seemed so vulnerable when you leaned against him, trusting him to support you and not let any harm befall you should you give in to sleep. He even, on rare occasions and only when he felt completely secure in his environment, rested his own head back on yours. That usually resulted in him taking a nap, as well. He found that, despite the crick in his neck that he always awoke with, those were his most satisfying naps.
More recently, the back of your hand kept brushing against his when the two of you would walk together. He had jerked his hand away the first time, not anticipating the contact. He regretted it instantly when you muttered an apology. Ominis insisted that it was quite all right, though he was keenly aware that his actions had undermined his assertion. As it kept happening, Ominis’s reaction changed over time. He started to keep his hand very still so that yours might keep brushing against it. Now when it happened, his instinct was to extend his fingers toward you – though, he never actually did what he really wanted, which was to take hold of your hand.
Your touch had become a comfort for him. You held him when he cried, rubbed soothing circles on his back when he was anxious, and sat with your side pressed into his when he was lonely. Ominis had never known the multitude of problems a simple touch could solve before he met you.
Nor, however, had Ominis known the particular torment that such a touch could inflict. Just having you near him was enough to make his palms sweaty and his breathing shallow. If you rested a hand between his shoulder blades or, even worse, against his thigh, it sent his brain into a fit. He would get sweaty everywhere, and his tie would suddenly feel too tight. Just before the summer holidays, you had reclined on one of the sofas in the Room of Requirement as you read a novel while awaiting your exam scores. You invited Ominis to join you and promptly bridged your legs over his lap when he sat down. That had vexed him most of all. You hadn’t even rested them on him, just sort of over with your feet planted on the cushion to his right and your bum against his left thigh.
Ominis hadn’t known what to do with his hands. He didn’t want to accidentally rest them somewhere inappropriate, but he didn’t want to be awkward, either. Eventually, he settled on resting his left arm on the back of the sofa and his right hand on your stocking-clad knee. His thumb began absently stroking back and forth just above it, and he had blushed furiously when he grazed the hem of your skirts. It had brought, unbidden, the idea of sliding his hand underneath the fabric, trailing it up your thigh. That had a sudden heat building in his abdomen – and spreading across his cheeks.
“How is your book?” he had asked, hoping for a distraction.
“Erm…yeah. It’s…it’s good,” you had replied.
Ominis spent entirely too long trying to analyse your odd response. Had you been uncomfortable? Or perhaps just absorbed in your book? Could you have been as affected by the proximity between you two as he had? He couldn’t be sure, and he certainly wasn’t about to ask, “Are you finding this as stimulating as I am? Because I’m feeling quite randy.”
That would’ve gone over well.
He pondered the possibilities frequently over the holidays. Two months spent apart from you were horrible. Not only did he have to deal with his family, but he missed you something dreadful. At least, he had been accompanied by Sebastian, who spent the entire time at Gaunt Manor given he had no guardian in Feldcroft to look after him.
Ominis didn’t realise how much he’d been brooding until his friend called him out for having “resting sad face” and demanded to know what was bothering him. They had been lying in their beds, and Ominis shifted to his side to face Sebastian before admitting that he missed you.
“I think I’ve grown to have quite strong feelings for her,” he confessed.
Sebastian snorted out a laugh. “Oh, you think so, do you?” he asked, sounding thoroughly amused.
“It’s not funny!” Ominis groused, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“It’s funny that you think it isn’t abundantly obvious that you fancy her, mate,” Sebastian retorted.
Ominis’s eyes widened. “What?” he asked, horrified at the thought of everyone knowing his feelings for you. He wasn’t ashamed of them, but he was quite a private person. The idea of everyone knowing such personal feelings of his was mortifying.
“Well, maybe not to her. People tend to be a bit thick about other’s feelings toward them, but I expect that anyone who knows you two can see it. You turn into a mushy little crup when she’s around,” Sebastian explained.
“I do not!” Ominis replied indignantly.
“Sure,” Sebastian said sceptically, clearly trying to avoid a fight.
They fell silent for several long moments.
“She fancies you too, you know,” Sebastian stated.
Ominin’s pulse jumped. “You can’t possibly know that,” he argued, trying to temper the hope bubbling up in his chest.
“I knew you about your cush, didn’t I?” Sebastian retorted. “Besides, she told me she does.”
“She did?” Ominis said eagerly. “Wait, you can’t tell me this, Sebastian! You’re betraying her confidence!”
Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh. “She never said I couldn’t tell you,” he replied.
“I’m sure it was implied,” Ominis said. “But…she really has feelings for me, too?”
“Without a doubt,” Sebastian said confidently.
That gave Ominis a lot more to think about before school resumed. He flipped back and forth between being elated at the idea that you reciprocated his feelings and panicking that the separation would change that.
All his fears melted away the instant you hugged him on the platform at King’s Cross station. It was the best hug he’d ever gotten. You clung to him like you never wanted to let go again, and Ominis would’ve been all right with that.
“Gods, I missed you two!” you said before giving Sebastian a hug, leaving Ominis to mourn the loss of your arms around him. “How was your holiday?”
“As good as being around my family can be,” Ominis replied. “How was yours?”
“Brilliant! Though, I wish you two could’ve visited!” you said.
The boys both agreed, though Ominis knew his parents would’ve never let him stay with a family they didn’t know. Or, rather, who were of unvetted blood status. He wasn’t about to subject her to experiencing his family in their own domain, so he hadn’t invited her to come to him.
Ominis had a lingering worry that things would be different between you two – that spending the summer apart would make things awkward between you. But when you rested your head on his shoulder and fell asleep as the train rattled down the tracks, he felt confident that you’d fall right back into how things were at the end of the last term.
Indeed, things seemed the same if not better. You often invited him to study in the Room of Requirement. His fear that he had made you uncomfortable the last time you’d been on a sofa together was eliminated when you took to putting your legs over his more often than not whilst you did your assigned readings. You only opted for one of the desks in the room if you had to write an essay.
It was a beautiful sort of torture to have you so close to him. It drastically decreased Ominis’s reading speed, but he found himself looking forward to studying now. He’d rest one hand on your knee while his other held his wand to let him read his tome. Sometimes you’d read aloud to him. Sometimes he’d hug your closer leg to his chest and rest his chin on your knee. It was like having his childhood stuffy but warmer and attached to someone who genuinely cared about him.
In the safety of your embrace, he shared his more intimate thoughts with you. Not the one about running his hand up your skirt, but about his hopes for the future, his frustrations with his family, and even his insecurities. You, in turn, opened up to him, as well. And as the weather got colder, you kept him warm in the draughty castle. Though, he was prepared to conjure a thick wool blanket over you if you ever seemed to be chilled.
After a month of being back a school, Ominis decided to admit his feelings to you. He was certain yours couldn’t have vanished over the summer given how you had only gotten more comfortable around him. However, when Ominis went to voice his feelings, he found that he didn’t know how. He knew how he felt about you, but he had spent his whole life suppressing how he felt to keep from stirring up trouble at home.
“I need to tell you something,” Ominis admitted during your daily study session.
He could hear you close your book and set it on the coffee table, giving him your full attention. “What is it?” you asked, sounding concerned.
“I…Well, I…” he tried, but his words were failing him. He usually fancied himself a rather eloquent individual, but he felt thoroughly uneducated as he stammered at you.
How was he supposed to tell you what was in his heart? Just say, “I like you”? Of course he liked you. You were friends. Close friends. “I fancy you” seemed so juvenile. “I want to court you” was too impersonal. It could be for your talent or station, but he wanted you to know how taken he was with who you were as a person.
You rested a hand lightly on his arm. “You can tell me anything, Ominis,” you said earnestly.
His heart swelled at your kindness. He wished he could say what he felt, but he didn’t have the right words. He moved to hold the hand you’d rested on him, lacing his fingers with yours. “I really like this,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze.
You squeezed his hand back. “I like it, too,” you replied.
“Good. I…I had hoped you do,” he said clumsily.
You stayed like that until dinner, your studies forgotten as you just basked in the closeness of each other. It hadn’t been exactly what Ominis had tried to accomplish, but it was definitely progress.
Ominis started taking other opportunities to hold your hand. He’d hold it during classes, giving up his dominant hand in favour of your warmth. Besides, he knew you’d share your notes with him later. He’d also search it out while you studied. He’d graze the backs of his fingers up your leg until he found your arm, which he’d follow down to the hand resting in your lap.
Sometimes, you’d take the initiative, taking hold of his hand while it still rested on your knee. Usually, you’d pull it down to rest it your lap or on your stomach, so you could relax your own arm. It always made Ominis’s heart flutter to know you wanted to hold his hand – and he found your occasional impatience quite endearing.
Then, one day in November, you pulled his hand to your lips, instead. His breath hitched as you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Your lips were soft and warm, and Ominis had the impulse to reach out and brush his fingers over them.
“Is that okay?” you asked cautiously, your warm breath hitting the back of his hand.
“Y-yes, of course,” Ominis replied breathlessly. He could feel his face flushing with heat.
“Can I ask you something?” you said, sounding grave.
“Anything,” Ominis replied without hesitation despite the pit of worry in his stomach.
You shifted on the sofa, moving to sit up. Your knees pressed against his leg as you sat with your legs tucked under you. Ominis could hear you take in a deep breath before you spoke. “What are we?”
Ominis’s brows pulled together. “What?”
“To each other,” you clarified. “I mean, do you like me?”
“Most ardently,” Ominis admitted with conviction. It was only after the words had passed from his lips that he worried he’d been severely mistaken about your feelings.
“Oh,” you breathed out, sounding surprised. That only heightened his anxiety. “Do you not want to court me?”
“No, I do,” Ominis replied earnestly, wondering what reason you could have to think he wouldn’t.
“Then, why don’t you?” you asked. You didn’t sound upset, just curious.
“Well, I…I wasn’t sure if you’d want to, and…I didn’t know how to ask, I guess,” he said.
“I do,” you said before adding, “want to, I mean.”
Ominis felt like he’d just eaten a handful of Fizzing Whizbees. His whole body felt light, like he might float right off the sofa. “Really?” he asked eagerly, before trying to force himself to be rational. “Are you certain? I’m…not very good at this sort of thing. Clearly. I’m sure you could find someone much better suited to the task.”
“I don’t want someone else,” you said. “I like you, Ominis.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Sebastian told me you did over the summer, I just…didn’t know how to tell you that I felt the same without it sounding ridiculous,” he admitted, not wanting any secrets between you.
“Sebastian told you?” you asked.
“I scolded him for betraying what you had told him, but he said you hadn’t asked him to keep it secret,” Ominis explained.
“I never told Sebastian that I have feelings for you,” you stated.
Ominis’s jaw dropped. “That lying rat!” he said, his anger swelling.
You chuckled. “Well, he wasn’t wrong,” you pointed out.
“I suppose not,” Ominis said, still irritated with his best friend. It was hard to stay upset, though, when he realised you had all but agreed to court him. “So, to make it official, would you do me the honour of letting me court you?”
“Yes,” you said without hesitation.
Ominis was beaming. Even knowing your answer ahead of time, he still felt overjoyed to hear it.
His singing heart began pounding hard in his chest as he felt your palm rest gently against his cheek. Your breath ghosted over his face as you leaned in, and he tilted his chin up to meet you. Your lips met his in a soft embrace. As they interlocked, it was a confession of your budding affections. A tender pledge of future bliss. You were his – your touch, your love, your loyalty. And he was yours, wholly and truly.
A/N: The line "a tender pledge of future bliss" is from the poem "To A Kiss" by Robert Burns
636 notes · View notes
theeroticlover · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
You, me and the 🔥 within.....
26K notes · View notes
shesstillshyy · 10 months
Text
I could really go for a forehead kiss right about now.
2K notes · View notes
chenuaswriting · 11 months
Text
physical touch
by @chenuaswriting
a/n: i love the call sign 'love' gtewshajncdg
(feel free to change the pronouns! tag me in ur works<3)
cuddling at any given chance
kisses behind the ears
hugging and he inhales the scent of your hair
hand to waist >>>>>
comparing hands just to hold their hand
wrapping legs around their waist when sleeping
tying his tie for him
kissing on the crown of head
randomly being super clingy and hugging him (+him carrying you around like a sloth)
nose kisses (underrated fr)
tickle fights
ruffling hair
1K notes · View notes