#fluff affection

[marksbear2]

STEVE MURPHY X MALE READER

Hey, it’s been a while! It’s Bear , or mark and maybe some of you remember me some may not and it’s okay.

Warnings-⚠️ Pure fluff, skin to skin contact, stress comfort and affectionate, healthy relationship. Tired and stressed out Steve and soft and kind boyfriend Y/n.⚠️

Another draining day at work for Steve. It all seemed like everything was on repeat and he lived in some stupid simulation all the cases, murders, trying to stop the cartel. Everything was getting into Steve’s head. Letting out a tired groan Steve turned off his car and holds his keys in a tight grip. Steve could feel his eyes slowly shutting and dazing off.

Steve’s tiredness and sore body slowly made itself known to him. With his job on his back and running around chasing the narcos. Steve yearned for a moment of relaxation and peace. Steve free time was nonexistent at this point dealting with the cartel, paperwork and dealing with his annoying partner and on top of all that trying to stay alive in these cold and dangerous streets.

And there’s no way of doing it better than with his boyfriend Y/n. 

Steve steps out of the car looking to the side looking at his house. A sense of relief washed over. It felt good to be finally home. 

The agent walks to his house and stands by the door fumbling around with his keys. Finally Steve finds the key to the house and unlocks it and stepping inside. 

“Sweetheart…Y/n?” The silence confused him. Steve looked around until he finally realized that it was dark and late so Y/n was probably asleep. Steve let’s out a sigh as he steps inside and close the door behind him. Steve looked around making sure that everything was at least fine.

Steve walks inside his bedroom with slight bad thoughts running in his mind. But he is relieved once he sees his boyfriend sleeping form in the bed. The blonde walks inside the bedroom taking off his shoes and wallet and such trying to make as little as any noise possible. Steve gave Y/n a quick glance to make sure he was alright  and sleep.

Steve had his back turned to the bed as he pulls off his suit jacket and tie. Steve sighed quietly to himself as he unbuttons his shirt pulls it off his shoulders. Steven begins to pull his boxers not noticing the movement from the bed behind him.

“Steve?” A tired and sleepy voice calls out causing Steve to flinch from surprise but smile once he recognizes who’s the voice belongs to. 

“Y/n hey sweetheart. Sorry for coming late and waking you up. I’ve should-“ 

“Don’t apologize it’s alright.” Y/n cuts him off as he smiles. 

“How was work? Was everything okay?” Y/n asked. To only get no response back from Steve. Steve stayed still as he thought of a answer to tell his boyfriend. 

Steve was such in deep thought and didn’t notice Y/n getting out of bed and walking towards him. Y/n slowly and gently takes Steve’s hand causing him to come back into reality. Steve looked at his partner and smiled softly rubbing his own fingers against Y/n’s own giving him a gentle squeeze to try and show him that he’s okay.

Y/n gently pulls Steve into the bed with him laying him down inside. Steve only relaxed and let Y/n babied him. Y/n kept Steve in his arms as they laid in bed. 

“Was it stressful?” Y/n asked in a calm whisper as he softly kisses Steve’s naked shoulders. Steve nods slowly as his body melts to Y/n’s embrace and affection. “You wanna tell me about it?” Y/n offers looking at Steve with a comforting smile.

Steve thinks for a minute before responding “No…Not really.” “Take your time as well baby.” Y/n says giving him a comforting and gentle squeeze on the thigh.

Steve's mind is a whirlwind. The work day's stresses swirl around in his head. But the moment he Y/n squeezed his thigh he felt at peace, wrapped in Y/n's warmth and the comfort of their embrace. He pours it all out ranting to his boyfriend about what happened. His worries and fears, and feels a weight being lifted. Y/n listens intently, offering up words of encouragement and support. 

So Steve began to let out his frustrations and worries and fears to his boyfriend completely venting to his boyfriend without a ounce of fear or shame. 

After Steve was done with his rant he stayed silent in a comforting and loving silence. Y/n held onto Steve’s hand massaging it and just playing with it, causing Steve to feel more at ease. Steve held Y/n closing nuzzling and hugging into him closing, all the stress and worries began to wash away as he stayed in his boyfriends arms. Y/n continued to give his boyfriend comfort with his touch as he thought if he said anything it’ll make it worse. After a long thought process he decided to speak.

“I love you Steve…okay? Everything will get better I promise. Believe me okay? Maybe you should take a break okay? You deserve one and you shouldn’t be overworking yourself like this.” Y/n said kissing him as he ran his hand up and down Steve’s bare back.

Steve sighed heavily, raking a hand across his tired face. Exhaustion clung to his body in heavy waves, yet his shoulders tensed as if anticipating something even worse. Y/n gently took hold of Steve's hand, their touch soothing him like the whisper of a cool breeze in the midst of a sweltering day. Y/n's kind gaze spoke volumes, and Steve found himself releasing the built-up tension in his body, sinking into Y/n's comforting presence.

Y/n leaned over and pressed their lips against Steve's cheek, whispering softly as they did. "I love you, Steve." 

Steve felt his heart flutter and his worries melt away as Y/n whispered those words. He leaned against them, feeling the weight of his stress lift from his shoulders, if just for a moment.

THE END

[distort-t]

SHY AFFECTION PROMPTS—

Walking side by side, the back of their fingers brushing—too shy to initiate hand-holding.

Teasing the tips of person B’s hair between their fingers, watching their fingers, unable to meet B’s gaze.

Subtle acts of service: opening a door for them, covering cornered edges when the other bends down to pick something up, purchasing something of the other’s interest.

”You look—uh, good. You look good.” Stammering, trying to appear confident when complimenting the other. Cue the throat clearing and avoidance of eye-contact.

Hesitant smiles and blushy cheeks.

Person A about to say something before thinking against it and closing their mouth.

Agonising slow-paced romance.

Person B sticking by person A’s side while they’re sick and stuck to bed rest, despite A’s warning of getting them sick too.

Thoughtful picnic dates.

Almost confessions.

”I care about you, and I want the best for you.”

Friends to lovers.

Looking for each other in social settings.

“You mean more to me than that.”

”Come on, we’re friends.” “Are we really?”

Angsty confessions after built up feelings being hidden.

Everyone can see it but them.

“We’re just friends!” “With how B is looking at you now? I don’t think you’re just friends.”

Starry night skies, damp grass, and deep talks about life.

B learning about A’s body insecurities and finding that it’s their favourite part of them.

Love-fuelled kisses under whispering nights.

So deeply in love that it almost makes their friends uncomfortable to witness.

Feathery forehead kisses.

Neither of them raise their voice—a love so gentle and kind that it makes your teeth rot.

Either one has social anxiety and the other orders for them at cafes and restaurants, or both of them do and one disregards their own anxiety and steps up.

Late nights cuddled up and quiet giggles.

”You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

”I want our kids to have your eyes.”

Inside jokes that literally no one understands.

[tashames]

Affection | Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary: You're always extra affectionate with Bob but he thinks you're like that with the rest of the team until the Thunderbolts tell him that's not true

Word Count: 2.9k words

Content: fluff, confessions, physical affection

A/N: I started this 2 days ago and I was still writing while working so hopefully it's good for y'all:) Let me know what you think!

Bob had always thought that your affection towards him was the way you were with everyone. He had seen the way you smack John's shoulder when he says mean jokes to him. Or the way that you would hold Yelena's arm when you both would beg Alexei for something. But he thought that when you held his hand or brushed your fingers through his hair or even cuddled, it was just because you did it with everyone else. But you display of affection towards him was much more than everyone else's.

One early morning in the Tower, Bob had woken up to make some coffee. As he does usually. He hummed himself a little tune, peacefully making the coffee.

Waking early was part of the contract of being a New Avenger. Although you hated it, it was just the way of life around here. You got up sleepily, just wanting to head back to bed already. Shuffling your feet out to hallway, unable to muster the energy to lift them, you end up going to the kitchen first. Seeing Bob standing in front of the coffee pot made your heart swell. You crept up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face on his back.

"Good morning," you said tiredly. Bob smiles to himself, feeling your warmth combining with his.

"G-Good morning," he responds back. Every morning was the same. He makes coffee while you come up from behind and hug him, not letting go even when he's moving around the kitchen. You won't let go until he gives you a mug with coffee. This morning was the same.

Yelena walks in, seeing the same thing every morning. She smiles to herself and sits down on the stools behind the counter.

"Can I get a mug also? After you give little miss leech hers," she calls out as she sees you hugging him tighter.

"She's not a leech. She just like that", Bob defends you, already pouring two mugs with coffee.

"Leeches stick like that. To every move, like her. A leech", Yelena points out. You just huff in annoyance, pulling away and headed over to the stool next to her. Bob's smile faltered a bit when he felt you pull away. He never wants to accept it but he just wants to hold onto you and never let go. Have you wrapped in his arms and holding you close to his chest.

You sat down on the stool, reaching for your mug and taking a sip. The hot liquid hitting your lips and sliding down your throat as the aftertaste stays on your tongue. You moan at the taste of it, closing your eyes shut. Bob darts his eyes at you, a blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. Yelena sips, eyeing both you and Bob.

"You always make the best coffee Bob," you sigh out, placing your mug back on the counter.

"I always do it for you," Bob replies back, sitting down next to you with a mug in his hand. You put your foot with his and swing it a bit. Bob had learned by now that no matter where you two are or whats going on, you will always find a way to be touching him. Either it's both your knees touching or you're leaning your head on his shoulder. You always show affection towards him.

After finishing up your coffee, you head back towards your room to shower and change. Bob headed back towards his, to do the same but also to hide the fact that his heart was racing. His mind was always being occupied by you. Every little touch you gave him, his heart would race. Mind filled with thoughts about you.

Today, you were going to train with Bucky. Although you were a S.H.E.I.L.D agent that got injected by Hydra with the solider serum, you still had to practice. Especially with Bucky. He was always pushing everyone to train.

"You have to keep pushing forward," Bucky says, dodging your punches as if he knew exactly where you were going to hit. You were getting annoyed by the minute. Not hitting Barnes meant a longer training. Just as Bucky is about to throw a punch, you dodge down and kick him in his abdomen with all your force. Bucky stumbles back a bit, holding his side.

"We can uh take a quick break", he coughs out as he walks over to the benches and sits down. You walk towards him, picking up your water bottle before sitting next to him. Shoulders barely touching. Both of you just drinking and breathing hard from the training.

"Do you think we can get pizza later today? I've been craving it since last week", you ask as you turn to look at him. Bucky leans his head against the wall.

"Yeah, we could. It's been awhile since we've had pizza", he responds back.

"I mean last time we had pizza, Alexei threw it to John and it ended up on the ceiling for a week", you laugh out. Bucky chuckles a bit, remembering that day.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Bob had been seeing your interaction. Seeing that you don't lean into him like you do to him. Bob walks away, thinking.

____________

After Yelena had come home from a mission, she had decided to paint your nails, as well as Ava’s. She had found the ‘prettiest blue’ during her mission that she took it and wanted to try it out. Yelena had practically dragged you and Ava out of your rooms and into the living room to start on the nails.

“See, isn’t this the prettiest blue you’ve seen. It’s all shimmery but not sparkly,” she says, holding up the bottle to show you and Ava. Ava had rolled her eyes, but was getting her nails ready to be painted by Yelena.

“I don’t see what the point is in painting our nails. They get chipped and ruined during our missions or trainings anyways,” Ava huffs out. She had already put her hands on Yelena’s lap first. You had started to organize the nail polish that Yelena has been keeping so far, putting them on display for her to pick and choose from quicker.

“It helps enlighten our mood seeing our nails like this. Plus we’re women, we have to embrace our feminity sometimes and we can do that with painting our nails, so which color do you want Ava,” Yelena asks, looking down at the line of nail polish bottles.

“I guess we can do white,” Ava responds back, blowing a piece of hair away from her face. You grab the white bottle, handing it over to Yelena. She opens it and starts to do the process of painting Ava's nails.

“Can you braid my hair for me? I can’t at the moment,” Ava asks, looking at you as she blows another piece of hair that fell onto her face. You nod excitedly. Ava doesn’t let anyone touch her hair unless if she gives them permission or it’s a death-life situation.

You head behind Ava, grabbing her hair from the front and pushing it out to the back. You comb through her hair with your fingers, feeling how smooth and healthy it is. You start from the top of her head, grabbing small pieces of hair and pulling out towards the back. As you start to braid her hair, Yelena had started to talk about how her and Natasha would always paint each other nails when they were younger.

“After school, we would come home to see Dad had bought us new nail polish. We would throw our book bags down and rush to sit at the dining table. Natasha would always paint my nails first then I would paint hers. Although I would always have different colors on each fingers, Natasha would always paint them without ever complaining about my color choices. But she would only go for one solid color for all her fingers. I always thought on how weird it was that she didn’t want to have fun colors on her hands. But now, I understand. Too much colors can be too much for the eyes.” Yelena smiles, remembering her childhood before the Red Room took her away. You and Ava were just sitting and listening peacefully, not wanting to interrupt her memories.

Finishing up Ava’s braid and tying a hair tie at the end, you sat back and admire your work. Your fingers ran down her braid lightly, feeling the bumps.

“Finished with your braid, Ava,” you say as you sit back down on the floor, next to the table where the bottles of nail polish are.

“Thanks. I like to keep it in a braid so it won’t get too messed up when I’m fighting,” Ava says while looking down to her nails.

“That’s why I cut mine. Too much damage and it gets in the way sometimes,” Yelena speaks out, pointing at her hair. You nod slowly, understandingly. Yelena finishes up on Ava’s nails and shoos her away. Already grabbing the color bottle that you want, you hand it over to Yelena before sitting down where Ava just was.

“Wow this is a pretty color too, Nice choice,” Yelena smiles at you, opening the bottle. She grabs your hand endearingly, not wanting to mess up and paint the sides of your fingers with the nail polish.

You can see the way she brings the brush over your nails, almost filling up your nail completely with the color, only going over twice. Her face steady with concentration. It’s already been 9 months since you have first met Yelena but now she feels like an older sister to you. The way she would stop John from pestering you to when she would bring you a bowl of sliced fruit to your room saying ,”We all need fruit in our systems, it makes us stronger.” Even Ava would sometimes just hand you a water bottle during training without saying a word. Being in a tower where it was mostly men walking around and coming along to guide you during missions, it was nice knowing you had two more women around you that had gone through similar experiences. Sticking close to each other was a must at this point, especially when the men living with you ask if it’s that time of month. More specifically, John.

“And finished, now it’s my turn,” Yelena says, closing the bottle and already opening up her new nail polish. You look down at your fingers, seeing how beautiful the color looks. You smile to yourself, maybe Bob would like this color.

Yelena already has her hands down on your lap, getting ready for her nails to be painted. Gently grabbing her hands, also trying not to ruin your freshly painted nails, you start on painting her nails. Doing the same motion as she did before, filling her nails completely with color.

Yelena looks up from watching you paint her nails and sees Bob standing in the kitchen, making himself something.

"Bob what are you making?" Yelena sits up straight and extends her neck, trying to see over you.

"Just some fruit," Bob answers. He starts to take out 3 more small bowls, placing them in a line. He cuts some fruit and places them into the bowl with a fork in the bowl. Carefully, he grabs them and makes his way over to the living room.

Ava looks up to Bob and sees him giving her a bowl. She takes it and thanks him, picking up the fork and sorting out the fruit. Bob looks over to you and sees you holding Yelena's hand. His eyebrows furrow.

"You can place them on the table. We're almost done here." Yelena point over to the table while blowing in her nails to make them dry faster.

You look over to see him doing what she said, gently placing down the bowls. Just as your finishing up her last nail, Bob sits behind you. He peers over your shoulder, seeing your work. You can feel his warm breath on your shoulder. His fingers slightly touching your waist.

" All done." You grin, seeing Yelena looking down at her nails. You lean into Bob, putting your back against his side and sigh. You feel him tense under you for a second.

"You can relax Bob, I'm just trying not to let the paint get ruined on my nails right now," you giggle as you show him your hands.

"W-Wow. They look pretty," Bob complimented. You can feel Bob move for a bit until he finally settles in. He wraps his arms and legs around you, trapping you with his body. Bob brings his hands to yours, grabbing them to look closer.

Both Yelena and Ava turn to each other and share a look. They both get up at the same time, picking up their bowl of fruit.

"I'm just gonna head to my room now." Ava smiled towards us and walked off, phasing away.

"I'm going to go see what Dad is doing cause last I heard, he was teaching John how to play goldfish." Yelena rolled her eyes and winked at you before leaving.

It was quiet but yet peaceful. Bob had been holding you for the past 10 minutes, his head buried in your neck. You had been eating your fruit while watching a show. You love being held by Bob. His warmth felt like a sunny day at the beach. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell back down when breathing. The minute Bob would touch you, you stopped everything and paid attention to him.

Finishing your bowl, you leaned over to place it back on the table but Bob's hold on you tightened.

"Bob, I'm just going to put it back on the table. I'm still going to be here." You turn your head back slightly. The grip on you loosens, letting you finally place the bowl on the table. Once the bowl hit the table, you feel yourself get pulled back into Bob's chest. A smile forms on your lips. Slowly you rubbed his arms, letting him go into a peaceful sleep on you.

___________

Bob had been woken up by the screeching sound of a chair being pulled out. He opens his eyes and looks around. He sits up from the couch and rubbing his eye.

"Did I fall asleep on the couch last night," he asks looking behind him to see everyone except you at the table. Already eating.

"Yeah, you and your other half did," John responds while chewing on his food.

"O-Other half?" Bob gets up from the couch, stretching his arms up. His shirt rides up, exposing his v-line.

"Don't play dumb. You know who. Who else would be cuddling with you?" John goes to drink his coffee while eyeing Bob.

"Well she cuddles with everyone, doesn't she?" Bob walks over to the table and sits down at one of the open chairs, looking over the food options.

"No. She only does that with you Bob. All the holding hands, looking at each other with love eyes, cuddling with each other and the rest of the lovey-dovey shit, that's all you two. She doesn't do that with us," John clarified, rolling his eyes.

Bob looks to everyone, seeing them nod in agreement to what John had just said.

"I just thought thats how she is with everyone," Bob says, remembering the past week of how you barely give physical affection to anyone else but him. Soon his cheeks started to heat up. His heart was pounding rapidly.

"Bob," Bucky says, his voice stern. Everyone stops and looks at Bucky. His arms are crossed against his chest, showing off his biceps.

"Everyone in the whole Tower knows that you two are in love. We can see it very much. Just ask her our already. And don't give me that 'oh what if she doesn't like me' bullshit. She does, trust me." Bucky huffs out.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, he feels hands come up to his shoulders and a kiss on his head. He looks up to see you smiling down to him.

"He's not wrong you know. Since the moment that we first moved in and you helped me with decorating my room, that's when my feelings started to develop," you admitted. A blush coming to your cheeks. Just staring into Bob's glistening eyes. A beautiful dark brown that you can never get enough of.

"Ugh just kiss already," Ava rolled her eyes and continued eating.

"KISS! KISS! KISS," Alexei started to shout out, banging the table hard that it started to make it jump. Everyone else tuned in with him, chanting it.

You close your eyes, leaning down to Bob. Your lips meet his, a soft but yet loving kiss was placed on his lips. Just as your about to pull away, Bob's hands come up to the your face and pulls you back down. He connects to your lips again. This kiss had a more exciting spark in it. Everyone around you shouted in excitement.

"Finally!" Everyone yells as you smile against Bob's lips.

Pulling away from each other, Bob smiles genuinely.

"Do you want to be mine?"

"I'm already yours."

[euthymiaaa]

— subtle physical affection prompts 𓆩♡𓆪

i hope everyone is having a great new year so far! enjoy :D

pushing strands of their hair out of their face

brushing the dust of their clothes

wiping off a food stain near their lips (bonus: you lick it off your fingers)

briefly tracing the lines of their palms

patiently helping them put their shoes on

teasingly playing with the string of their hoodie

nose boops

comparing hand sizes

accidentally grazing their hands as both of you are reaching for the same object

gentle massages for their shoulders

delicately putting your hand on their back

playful stabs with your fingers onto the side of their waist

ever so light forehead pecks

[emmyrosee]

Rin Itoshi cannot stand when you surprise kiss him and run away, because his brain can’t process fast enough and he’s left a sputtering, blushy mess while you’re giggling halfway down the hall.

“You nuisance!” He manages, but his voice is squeaky and uncontrollable, very different from his usual monotone- he hates it. He hates how often he takes your bait, how much he’s at your mercy, and he hates the way his heart rate spikes at your affection.

But most importantly, Rin Itoshi hates when you kiss him and run away, because he doesn’t get a chance to kiss you back.

And that annoys him most of all.

[aventurineswife]

Can I geeeeeeet reader getting absolutely wasted and crying over a pic of them with their s/o (Kaeya, Aventurine, Kaveh, or Ratio), who then walk in on them like that. When asked what’s wrong, reader just sobs “I love him so much! He’s so beautiful!” (Cuz they don’t even recognize who they’re talking to cuz they’re so drunk)

Drunk on Love

Tags: Kaeya x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Drunken Confessions, Slight Angst, Established Relationship, Emotional Vulnerability, Soft Comfort, Light Teasing, Gentle Affection.

Warnings: Alcohol Use, Crying, Mild Language, Overwhelming Emotions, Characters Taking Care of a Drunk Reader, Excessive Sappiness.

The tavern air is thick with the scent of wine and the warmth of too many bodies pressed close together. Your head spins, the rim of your glass tilting precariously in your unsteady grip. You've had… how many drinks now? You lost count somewhere after the third.

But it doesn’t matter. Not when you’re clutching your most prized possession—a slightly crumpled photograph of you and Kaeya, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his usual smirk softened into something more genuine. The sight of him, even in a mere image, has your throat tightening with emotion.

“I love him so much,” you murmur to no one in particular, fingers stroking the picture like it’s some sacred relic.

A shadow falls over you, and a familiar voice—silken, teasing—cuts through the fog of your inebriation.

“Well, well. What do we have here?”

You blink sluggishly, barely registering the man now standing before you. He’s tall, elegant, with striking blue hair and an eye that twinkles with mischief even in the dim light. If you were even a fraction more sober, you’d recognize him in an instant.

But right now, all you see is a stranger.

He crouches down to meet your gaze, concern flickering behind his usual amusement. “Care to tell me why you’re drowning in wine and tears?”

You hiccup, pressing the photo against your chest as if to protect it. “I just—hic—I love him so much!” Your voice wavers, and fresh tears spill down your cheeks. “He’s so beautiful. He’s—he’s perfect.”

Kaeya blinks, and then, much to his own surprise, laughter bubbles from his lips. “Oh? He must be quite the catch, then.”

“He is!” you insist, completely missing the smirk tugging at his lips. “His stupid hair—so soft—his voice—ugh, it makes my heart melt!” You dramatically thump your fist against your chest for emphasis, eyes shining with a lovesick haze. “And his smile—his smile! I’d die for it.”

Kaeya exhales, shaking his head in amusement. He’s flattered—more than flattered—but he also can’t let this moment pass without a little mischief. “You must really adore this man.”

“I do!” You clutch the picture tighter, brows furrowing in determination. “If I saw him right now, I’d—I’d—”

He leans in, voice dropping into a velvety whisper. “You’d what?”

You squint at him, your drunken brain struggling to process the sudden proximity. And then, like a grand revelation, it finally clicks.

Your gasp is so dramatic it could belong in a stage play. “KA—”

Before you can finish, Kaeya’s hand is already over your mouth, his laughter barely contained. “Shhh, love. No need to wake the entire city.”

Your eyes widen, then water all over again. “K-Kaeya!” you wail against his palm. “You’re here!”

He sighs, shaking his head before pulling you into his arms. “Yes, yes, I’m here. Now let’s get you home before you profess your love to the entire Knights of Favonius.”

You sniffle into his shoulder, still clutching the picture. “You’re so beautiful.”

Kaeya chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

The world around you is a blur—spinning, tilting, swaying with every sluggish blink of your eyes. The dimly lit lounge, the luxurious drapes, the faint hum of music—it all fades into the background as you stare at the picture in your hands.

Aventurine’s signature smirk stares back at you from the glossy surface, his arm draped lazily around your shoulder. The way he looked at you in that moment, the amusement laced with something softer, something real—it has you sniffling pathetically into your drink.

“I love him,” you slur, swiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your ridiculously expensive coat—one that he bought for you, because “no partner of mine should be seen in anything less than luxury.” “He’s so beautiful.”

A low chuckle, rich and teasing, cuts through your daze. “Well, darling, I can’t say I’ve ever heard a more glowing review.”

You lift your head, vision swimming. A figure leans against the bar beside you, decked out in the finest attire—dark green, gold accents, gambling motifs woven into every detail. A hat tilted just enough to cast a shadow over his sharp, enchanting eyes.

Your breath catches. “You look like him.”

Aventurine’s smirk widens. “Oh? And who, pray tell, am I impersonating?”

You clutch the photo dramatically, thrusting it towards him. “This man,” you declare, nearly toppling off your seat. “He’s perfect.”

Aventurine’s laughter is genuine now, the kind that shakes his shoulders. “Now that’s a compliment worth savoring.”

You grab his wrist, peering up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I’d bet my soul on him.”

He pauses at that, his playful demeanor faltering just slightly. Then, with a smirk softer than before, he leans in, brushing a thumb over your damp cheek. “Careful, sweetheart. I might just take you up on that wager.”

Sumeru’s night air is warm, but the alcohol burning in your veins is warmer. You’re slumped over a table in the tavern, a picture of you and Kaveh clutched in your trembling fingers. His golden hair, his crimson eyes—his smile.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you trace the outline of his face. “I love him so much,” you whisper, barely coherent. “He’s so… so beautiful.”

A chair scrapes beside you, but you’re too lost in your misery to notice. A familiar voice, gentle yet exasperated, reaches you.

“[Name]…?”

You sniff, barely glancing up. “Go away.”

Kaveh sighs, but there’s fondness in his voice. “Now why would I do that when my beloved is busy drunkenly serenading my photograph?”

Your lips wobble. “Kaveh?”

“Yes, my dear?”

You blink at him, then hold up the picture. “You look just like him.”

Kaveh stares at you. Then, with a soft chuckle, he cups your face, brushing away your tears. “That’s because it’s me, love.”

Your heart swells, and with a dramatic sob, you throw yourself into his arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

Kaveh lets out a breathless laugh, catching you effortlessly. “I know, love. I know.”

Ratio wasn’t expecting to find you in this state—slumped over your desk, eyes glossy with unshed tears, a picture gripped in your trembling hands.

“Love?”

You lift your head, eyes unfocused. “Ratio…?”

He folds his arms, raising an amused brow. “Care to explain why you’re weeping over my image like a tragic protagonist?”

Your lower lip trembles. “You’re just… so beautiful.”

Ratio stares at you, then lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

And yet, as he wipes your tears away, a small smile tugs at his lips.

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ SUBTLE LOVE ~ WRITING PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous request: hi!! idk if this has been req before but do u have prompts for subtle love? it will take some time for u to realise that their actions are somth u do out of love. thank u!

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1 (kinda): ~ GENTLE LOVE ~ PROMPTS

listening attentively when the other is talking

taking the other into consideration whenever making a decision

smiling at the other to encourage them

taking over the other's tasks to disburden them

the last thing they're thinking about before falling asleep is always the other

sitting back and staying quiet to leave the stage for the other

giving the other their space, knowing they need it

enjoying the sound of the other's voice

distracting the other when they see they're distressed and close to freaking out

trying to learn every way to put a smile on the other's face

experiencing this strange feeling in their chest when the other comes to them for support and a word of kindness

"You can call me. Day or night. I'm there for you."

enjoying the most basic time spent together just sitting next to each other, each doing their own

hyping the other up

being their biggest cheerleader

checking up on the other regularly when they know they're not feeling their best

thinking about the other at the most random times

'Oh, this coffee has such nice latte art! I wonder if [person B] would like it.'

'Oh, there's a new movie showing in the cinema about an ice skater. [Person B] once did ice skating. Would they like this movie? Or are they even better at ice skating than the ones in the movie? I'm sure they're the best ice skater!'

stopping themselves from messaging the other too often

sharing their food with the other

always making another coffee/tea when they're making one for themselves because sharing is caring

smiling by instinct when they see the other

^ breaking into a grin and being unable to stop it

sending the other little notes of encouragement to show that they're thinking of them

"You're doing just fine. I know you've got this."

promising to catch up, even when there is no time at the moment, they're making sure it doesn't go under

"Wanna talk about it later? I will make time."

making the other a priority

giving their honest opinion when it's asked

[swordymacaroni]

nanami kento likes to bite you.

not in a weird way, either. you could be standing over the counter or curled up in bed, this man will miss no opportunity to pull you closer by the waist and sink his teeth into your shoulder. he's so gentle with it, too. his bite doesn't hurt. it's tender, the warmth of his lips bleeding into your flesh as his teeth press into your skin, almost like a lover's caress. nanami will hold you like that, savoring your scent and softness, a contented hum leaving his throat as you relax into him.

you're so perfect that he's at a loss for words, so he resorts to biting. it reminds him that you're there. so sweet. so grounding. so his.

[arabella0001]

Choso and how he doesn’t understand romance, but loves you like it’s all he knows as your man

Choso, who has a hard time expressing his emotions but, when he finally does, his words are bare and unfiltered "I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you."

Choso who never fidgets, never stirs without reason, except when you’re near. Fingers tightening around fabric, gaze flickering toward you before settling elsewhere. A silent battle between restraint and instinct.

Choso, who once rushed to your side after hearing your heartbeat spike in fear, his curse instincts overriding everything else. “You were scared,” he says when he finds you, his expression serious. “I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”

Choso who, one time, overheard some guys at a market talking about "smooth pickup lines" and decided to try one. You nearly choked on your drink when, with complete seriousness, he looked at you and said, "Are you a curse? Because you’ve… attached yourself to my soul." He’s so bad at it, but he really tried.

Choso who doesn’t do small talk. If he asks how you’re doing, he means it. If he touches you, even in the smallest way, it’s intentional. No wasted words, no wasted actions—just quiet devotion disguised as indifference.

Choso who is so still, so composed, until you’re involved. You trip, and before you even register what’s happening, he’s already caught you, hands firm around your waist.

Choso, who isn’t one for crowds but will endure them if it means being by your side. His eyes constantly find you in the chaos, his hands almost always on yours, to remind you you’re never alone.

Choso who also listen your heart just because. When you ask why, he just murmurs, “It’s calming. It reminds me you’re alive.”

Choso who also was panicked when your heartbeat was erratic, rushing to find you only to discover you’d been laughing too hard at something silly. He scolded you softly, his cheeks flushed with relief. “Don’t scare me like that,”

Choso who, despite his intimidating presence, is an absolute mess when you flirt with him. You call him pretty and he nearly drops whatever he’s holding. You trace a finger down his arm and he stops breathing for a second.

Choso who can take a hit without flinching, who has stood through battles drenched in blood—yet when you lean in close to fix his collar, his breath stutters. He stiffens like you just hit him with a surprise attack, ears burning as he mutters, “Thank you, Y/N”

Choso who gets flustered in the most cute ways. You brush a loose strand of hair from his face, and his entire body tenses, ears faintly pink. Later that night, he clumsily tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering for a fraction too long. An unspoken attempt at returning the gesture.

Choso who lets you play with his hair, sitting still as your fingers work through it, but the moment you lean down and whisper, “You look good like this,” his face is unreadable, but the deep red on his ears tells you everything.

Choso who is terrifyingly strong but once let you paint his nails because you said it would look cool. He didn’t judge, didn’t complain, just sat there, watching you with an unreadable expression. Later, he asked you to do it everytime you have time.

Choso who struggles with social small talk but absolutely thrives in weird, deep conversations. You joke, "Would you still like me if I was a worm?" and instead of laughing, he frowns, considering it seriously. After a long pause, he nods. "I’d keep you safe."

Choso who doesn’t understand sarcasm at all. You jokingly say, "Wow, thanks for holding the door, real gentleman." He immediately backtracks, opens the door, and stands there stiffly, waiting. When you laugh, he frowns. "You were being serious, right?"

Choso who listens, even when you don’t think he is. You casually mention craving something, and the next day, it’s in your hands. You sigh about being tired, and suddenly, he’s adjusting a pillow behind your back. He won’t say he listens. He proves it instead.

more choso content here

[kilibaggins]

Physical Affection Prompts

hi all! I just thought I'd make my own list of various physical affection prompts and since no idea is ever original some of these are 100% on other peoples lists but im not using other lists as reference or copying anyone. this list is for my own use and other peoples use and there's no need to credit me (though it's always nice).

reblog to have your followers send you these as prompts !! or just use them for your own writing.

all of these are meant as sfw prompts but some may seem a bit more intimate.

tracing someones face

tucking hair behind their ear

forehead kisses

desperate hugs

crying into their neck/shoulder

reversed little spoon & big spoon (the one who is normally the big spoon is the little spoon and vice versa)

holding their hand under a table

kissing their hand

kissing their collarbone

sitting with legs in their lap

morning cuddles where they're both mostly asleep and they don't want to wake up yet but they want to cuddle

petting their hair

head pats

sitting on the floor in front of them while they sit on the couch and their arms touch their legs.

holding both of their hands

hugs from behind

gently touching their waist to move past them (dont do this to someone you're not dating! dont believe I have to say this.)

grabbing their wrist or hand and turning them around

playing with their hands when nervous

slow dancing

[sweetcalebb]

caleb when you're a clumsy drunk ! ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

wc: 543

for context: you and your friends thought a little get-together with some drinks would he fun. except they want to do it in a trailer, rather than in the house that's just 30 feet away

pt 1 here - soft smut!

srry this is so weird and specific?

—

You really didn’t think it was that far to the house. Like, okay, maybe the room was spinning a little, and maybe you'd fallen over about ten times already just sitting down, but that bathroom had a real mirror and smelled like vanilla!

Not whatever haunted this trailer one. Still, your friends insisted you use the one in the trailer for your own safety. It was only a few steps away, and if anything happened, they'd be right there.

That's how you ended up with Caleb standing in there with you, his back toward you while you peed.

In any other circumstance where you weren't drunk off your ass, you would've been mortified. Would've screeched at the mere thought of Caleb standing in the same room while you peed.

But now?

You couldn't give two shits.

And clearly, nor did Caleb. Except he wasn't drunk. He laughed, bracing his hands on the flimsy sliding door as you drunkenly leaned forward and rested your forehead against his back.

"Pips! C'mon. Are you done pissing?"

You giggled, lazily sliding your hand up his leg before curling it around his waist and trying to tug him closer, like you weren't currently sitting on the toilet, skirt and panties hanging loosely around your ankles.

"Mmn.. I thinkkk so."

Caleb huffed. "You think so?"

"Mm.."

"Push. See if more comes out."

You laughed, hugging him tighter. "You're soo weird. You got a piss kink, big boy?"

Caleb snorted, nearly turning around to look at you because of the absurdity of the nickname you just used. "Big boy?" he echoed. "You have never called me that." Then adamantly, he added, "And I do not have a piss kink."

A beat.

"Unless you do. Then I guess I could get into it that's what—"

"Stopppp." You started weakly slapping his stomach, your breathy little laughs fanning dangerously close to his butt. "I don't have a piss kink."

"Alright," he relented, shifting in the tight space. It was uncomfortable, sure, but he would do this 100 more times tonight if it's what he had to do to keep you from falling flat on your face.

"Now seriously. You done, pips?"

You ignored his question, instead sliding your other hand up his waist and fisting it in his shirt as you tried to drag him even closer. "You are suchh a sweet boyfriend, you know that?"

Caleb smiled, heat blooming in his chest. "Thank you. I'll carry that with me forever."

"Like, reaallyy," you slurred. "Like, I can't believe you're in the bathroom with me right now, being so sweet, and kind, and patient."

"I'll always come to the bathroom with you," he said. "Even when you're sober."

"Absoluttelly not. I'm too.. shy sober."

"You shouldn't be. Not with me."

You sighed, gently peeling your hands away from him. "You're right." There was a beat of silence. Then you sat upright again, "Okay, now I'm gonna wipe. Don't look, okaayy?"

"Okaayy," Caleb mimicked, trying to take a step forward to give you more room. "I promise I won't look."

When you were done, you clumsily pulled your clothes up and stumbled outside the bathroom, into the crowded hall between the bed and the lounging area.

You fell against Caleb, who happily wrapped his hands around you and kept you close.

"I love you," you murmured.

Caleb smiled, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "I love you."

[asherwesley]

“After the storm”

A Simon “Ghost” Riley vignette

(Soft angst, intimacy, gentle protection)

Setting: A safehouse, late night. Post-mission. You and Ghost are alive - but barely. You're tending to his wounds in low light.

The room smells of burnt metal and antiseptic. Rain taps on the window like it’s knocking for permission.

Simon sits shirtless on the edge of the bed, ribs blooming purple under the low light. You kneel in front of him, hands moving gently as you clean the gash near his collarbone.

He flinches, just barely.

“You can growl at bullets but flinch at alcohol?” you tease, trying to lighten the air.

He huffs. A short, almost-smile on his lips. “Bullets never sting this long.”

Silence stretches between you - tired, yet comfortable. He watches you work. His gaze is heavy, but not oppressive. Just... present.

Your fingers pause as you wrap the final bandage. You don’t look up when you speak:

“You scared the hell out of me out there.”

A long pause. He doesn't respond right away. Just sits there, jaw clenched.

Then, quietly, "I saw red when I heard you go dark on comms. Thought—"

...Thought I was about to lose you.

He stops. Swallows it.

“I’m here,” you whisper.

Simon’s head lowers, forehead pressing gently to yours. Eyes closed.

"You don't leave," he murmurs. Not a question. A statement. A fragile truth he’s still convincing himself of.

Your hand finds his.

“Not unless you ask me to.”

He exhales, shaky, like he’s been holding that breath since the first shot was fired.

Then, softly:

“I didn’t want anyone else to patch me up. Just you.”

He doesn’t say "I love you."

Not tonight.

But when he finally lays back - your hand still in his, mask off, breath evening out - you know:

You are his home.

And he’d go through hell again if it meant coming back to this.

[brunettemarionette]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⤷ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby, Gabriel, Lucifer, Crowley.

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― gender neutral reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

Affection Type: Protective & Physical Dean shows love through acts of service and physical affection, even if he pretends he's not a softie.

He doesn’t say “I love you” out loud—not often, anyway—but you hear it in the way he wraps an arm around your shoulders when you're walking to the car. He always positions himself between you and danger, even if it’s just a rowdy bar. His hand finds yours under motel covers, rough thumb stroking the back of your palm like it’s the only thing grounding him. He calls you “sweetheart” or “baby,” but only when it’s just the two of you, like the words are sacred.

𝐒𝐚𝐦

Affection Type: Gentle & Verbal Sam shows affection through listening and words of affirmation.

With Sam, it’s in the way he remembers everything you’ve ever told him—from your favorite tea to that obscure book series you liked as a kid. He checks in constantly, not out of paranoia but genuine care. “How are you really doing?” he asks, eyes soft with concern. He holds your face like you’re made of glass, kisses your forehead more than your lips. He tells you he loves you—quietly, sincerely—like it’s a prayer.

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

Affection Type: Awkward & Deeply Devoted Cas shows love through devotion and trying to understand humanity—through you.

He watches you when you sleep, not in a creepy way, but like he’s studying a piece of art he’ll never fully comprehend. “Your presence is… comforting,” he says one night, voice almost embarrassed. He doesn’t always get the social cues, but he tries—bringing you coffee with the exact amount of sugar you like, because “Dean said humans find that romantic.” When he kisses you, it’s slow and reverent, like he’s memorizing you.

𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲

Affection Type: Grumpy but Golden-Hearted Bobby shows affection through tough love and acts of provision.

“Idjit,” he mutters when you get hurt, but his hands tremble as he wraps your wound. He’ll never say the L-word, but you wake up to breakfast on the table and your car fixed, and you know that’s his version of a love letter. When you’re upset, he sits next to you in silence until you speak, then listens like it’s the most important intel he’s ever gotten. “You’re family,” he says once, low and gruff. You know what he means.

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

Affection Type: Playful & Surprising Gabriel shows love through humor, gifts, and chaotic affection.

One minute you're arguing about what to watch, the next you’re in Paris eating macarons—because apparently, Netflix arguments call for surprise teleportation. He teases you mercilessly, but never crosses a line. “Can’t take you anywhere without making me fall harder, huh?” he grins. But then there are the quiet nights too, when he dials it all down just to hold your hand in the dark, whispering jokes until you fall asleep smiling.

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

Affection Type: Intense & Possessive Lucifer shows affection with obsessive protection and raw honesty.

Loving you is the one thing that makes him feel even remotely sane. He touches you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like your existence proves he’s not completely lost. “They think I can’t love,” he says, gaze burning. “But I’d burn down Heaven and Hell for you.” His version of affection is laced with danger, but also unwavering loyalty. You’re his. Not in a controlling way—at least, not when he’s calm. But he’s working on it. For you.

𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲

Affection Type: Snarky & Strategic Crowley shows love through clever manipulation and unexpected sincerity.

He buys you absurdly expensive gifts and pretends he doesn’t care if you like them—but side-eyes you until you compliment his taste. “Darling, if you ever tell anyone I care, I’ll deny it until Judgment Day.” But then he appears out of nowhere when you're in danger, burning through enemies like they're made of paper. “You matter to me more than you should,” he murmurs one night, hand warm on your back. It’s not romantic fluff. It’s real.

[eloquent-edits]

🗡️ Oh, love, don’t let me go

won’t you take me where the streetlights glow? 🗡️ physical affection prompts

Tight hugs that feel like coming home after a long time away

Eskimo kisses!!!

Tracing constellations between freckles and moles

Reaching for their hand in a crowd, knowing they’ll guide you through safely

Cradling their face in your hands, thumb brushing against the creases of their smile

Kissing the back of their hand and gently squeezing it before leaving

Dog piles on a couch with limbs all askew yet very comfortable

After a terrible joke, flicking their arm or hand

Les bises (cheek kisses) upon greeting them

A hearty clap of joy on the back

Hidden tangling of the legs under a table or blanket

Resting your chin on their shoulder, arms wrapping them in a gentle embrace from behind

Friendly sparring while waiting around (if actual swords are included that’s even better)

Twirling them around in a big hug, bursting into laughter when you almost topple over

Sneakily finding the right moment to slip an ice cold hand up their shirt

Washing their back in the shower for them

When they’re injured or sick, carefully carrying them where they need to go

Secret handshakes just for fun

Hip-checking, either like a salsa dancer’s final move or a itty bitty bump for acknowledgment

Detangling or braiding their hair as their head rests in your lap

Spooning (big or little spoon, it’s nice 10/10 highly recommend)

Pressing a warm hand into their side/stomach/back to alleviate cramps or muscle strains

Scratching that ridiculously hard to reach spot for them

Brief shoulder massages when they’re stressed

Curling into their chest, protected from everything in the world for that moment

[dediezzyyy]

Arranged married life...

Cw: Cursing, angst, crack, one-sided love, fem!Atreides reader, jealous!Feyd, reader is hinted to be asexual, Feyd is down bad, reader is secretly a silly goose, mentions of violence/murder.

A/n: I am so sorry for neglecting this piece😭 and I genuinely have no idea what this is.

Tags: @peggyao3

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen did not get "jealous." There was no need to since the both of you were married. You belonged to each other, and absolutely no one dared to come in between your arranged marriage.

And so, he believed he did not need to worry about things like that; and it's not like you were infatuated with anyone, anyway. (Yes, that includes him, unfortunately.)

You were rather... odd, in some way. You loved, yet you did not lust. You want to have intimacy with someone, but the kind of intimacy where you understand someone so deeply that you know what they are thinking. And Feyd admired that about you, for somewhere deep inside of him, he felt the exact same way.

You were not in love with anyone, as you would rather frolic in the flower fields and gardens with all of those cutesy animals and whatnot. At least, that was what he was told when you lived on your home planet. Now on Harkonnen? You seemed so tense and watchful; as if you couldn't let your guard down for a second.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was good that you wouldn't let your guard down around anyone else on Geidi Prime. Yes, that was it! Feyd-Rautha had no reason to worry about you and your marriage.

So why the fuck does he want to strangle the man who was obviously flirting with you?

There you were. Walking down the halls of the fortress as one of the generals from your home planet, Caladan, was visiting for trade matters.

Apparently, this general was a childhood friend of you and your twin brother, Paul Atreides. Feyd could care less, of course, but what really ticked him off was the way the bastard was looking at you.

The so-called look of love he had when he would admire glance at you from afar. The fucking audacity.

But what shocked the na-Baron the most was how you seemed almost too pleased to see the damn general. You even let yourself smile for the first time since you've arrived on Harkonnen.

Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

Why couldn't you smile at him like you smiled at the Caladan?

Feyd is reminded of this once again as he glances at you from afar, observing you walk with your servants to your quarters. Your body language was more relaxed. The bags under your eyes are less evident as your skin has a slightly more noticeable glow.

You were resting better than before, he acknowledged. Pale blue eyes softened at the sight of you, heart fluttering in his chest as those haunting thoughts are pushed away for now; you were more important. You, you, and your sweet smile and kind eyes.

Eyes that were now staring at him.

Feyd turns his head towards your gaze, jaw and fists clenching as his eyes darken at the general walking down the halls. What was so special about some weak Caladan?

A shy small smile made its way onto your face as you waved at your childhood friend, your shoulders slowly relaxing as the guard waved back. Aleskander breaks into a grin.

Feyd wishes he could break the pathetic bastard's neck.

Aleksander watches you with soft eyes, his breathing becoming slightly uneven at the sight of you walking down the halls. You were alive and well. That was all that mattered.

Your handmaidens stare at you in surprise, glancing at the strong general as they whisper questions in your ear. One of them gives you a small smile as she mutters something to you, making you flush in embarrassment and nod in approval.

Feyd does not approve of this at all, in fact. Yet for once, he restrains himself from doing something rash until he has a reason to do so. You are in the area, and he cannot risk driving you away because of his so-called 'jealousy'.

And so he waits; waits like a predator, counting the seconds before it can slaughter its prey.

The Caladan general slowly approaches you, bowing before he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your palm.

Feyd-Rautha starts to plan out how he is going to murder the fucking bastard.

Cold ice blue eyes steel towards your figure, glistening in hidden shock as he sees the flustered look in your face as you show a small toothy grin. Something that makes both men's hearts flutter quicker than before. The Harkonnen cannot hide the way he is fascinated by the look on your face, similar to what he believes is heaven.

You're more relaxed. Slightly happier than before, therefore Feyd cannot destroy that. He refuses to get rid of whatever makes you feel joyful. He fucking hates that you seem to care about the general, therefore making him untouchable.

Feyd cannot kill the Caladan, (yet) so he does what he does best next.

He lies and manipulates.

The na-Baron slowly strides through the halls, observing the way your eyes widen in surprise as well as how the general fixes his posture quickly.

"Rabban requests your presence, general. He says it has a matter to do with whatever you came here for," Feyd speaks, eyes slightly rolling as he circles closer. The Harkonnen opens his plush lips to speak again, feigning innocence as he squints his eyes and points his index finger in the air. "I believe he said something along to do with the spice trading."

Ice blue eyes narrowed on the Caladan man as he watched with pleasure on the way the general's eyes widened in slight fear. Feyd's lip quirked slightly, enjoying how the general seemed more tense now that he was in the room.

Good.

The general spares a glance towards you before nodding his head and bowing to leave. And just like that, the tension between you two was back to normal.

Not so good.

Feyd huffs in annoyance.

You avert your eyes out of fear respect, and bowing your head as your handmaidens bow their heads as well. You acted as if you were a mere servant, and Feyd found that frustrating.

You were his wife, and he wouldn't dare even think about harming a single hair on your head.

So why did you not see this?

Feyd's chest twists at the thought of this, remembering how fucking delighted you were to see the Caladan bastard. If you loved him so much, then why didn't you just marry him instead?!-

"You seemed happy to see him," Feyd grumbles, eyes glaring at the walls as his jaw clenches.

Your eyes widen in shock, a frown forming on your face as you dig your nails into your arm-trying to hide your fear. You open your mouth to speak, but quickly snap it shut when Feyd moves closer to you. Your handmaidens flinch in fear, bowing their heads as they respectfully move away from the na-Baron.

The pale Harkonnen tilts his head in curiosity, arms behind his back as he steps closer-starting to circle around you like a predator with its prey.

"Is he important to you?"

Your stomach drops in dread, standing still as you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You can't speak, you can't. Your lungs feel tight and it's starting to hurt to breathe-

So, you stay quiet instead; quiet like the mouse hiding from the snake.

Feyd doesn't acknowledge the ache in the organ in his chest when you don't answer his question. The question that could cause so much pain to him if you answered yes.

"Will you not answer me, my wife?"

His voice was soft-almost a whisper as if he was trying to calm you from your nerves. His honey-like tone only made you more anxious and fearful in the way it made your heart rate speed up. Was this his way of luring you into a trap? Feigning sweetness so that he could devour you when you let your guard down?

No, no. You couldn't let that happen.

Your voice gets caught in your throat as you open your mouth to speak, trying to decide if he will cut your throat if you say something wrong.

But he waits, waits impatiently as he's deciding if he should just go ahead and kill the damn bastard.

"I-I was only surprised to see him," you say, internally cursing yourself for stammering; a habit you had since you were young. At least what you managed to say wasn't suggesting anything between you and Aleksander, because there wasn't and you prayed that he wouldn't lash out.

Feyd squints his eyes, debating whether or not if he should believe it was merely surprise or not. The na-Baron's mind drifts back to the way the fucking Caladan had kissed your hand, and how he even had the audacity to breathe the same air as you-

But then he notices the distant look in your eyes, the way your head hangs in guilt and the way you rub your arm in nervousness. Feyd is reminded that you are a foreigner on this planet, and how you barely manage to communicate with your family back on Caladan.

The Harkonnen stops circling you, standing next of you as a way to intimidate you less. He notices the way you exhale slightly, feeling slightly less tense even with your guard up.

You feel more vulnerable when there's someone in front of you, facing you and staring straight into your eyes. You can't run away if you're facing someone, you believe it's rude. If they stand in front of you, then they are confronting you, they want your entire focus and attention on them. You can't meet their gaze, it feels too close, too intimate-

So, Feyd stands by your side instead.

You clear your throat, eyes slowly gazing upward to meet his-and they're looking right into you. His pupils are dilated, and you never truly spent the time to realize how unique the color of his irises is. You squint, trying to see better under the dark lighting of the Harkonnen palace. His eyes remind you of oceans, the ones filled with cold and ice.

You don't notice how your handmaidens glance at each other knowingly, shuffling away but still remaining close enough if you need them.

You snap out of your trance, blinking as you clear your throat with an awkward grunt. You stare at the floor beneath your feet, hands clasped together as you try to think of something to say.

It's awkward again. Too awkward. You've just had a silent staring contest with your arranged husband, who is also one of the most dangerous and feared men in the universe. And here you are, trying not to overthink on what to say as you don't want to embarrass yourself or offend your arranged husband.

Same husband who could possibly kill you in one move.

Yeah, you definitely got this, the internal you says as she gives you a lazy grin and a thumbs up.

"Why does it matter to you, na-Baron?"

The silence is deafening as the tension in the air grows thick.

Feyd's jaw drops shock, staring at you as if you've just slapped him in the face.

Ha. Ha, ha ha ha ha hahahaha. Was it too late to ask for a refund in this marriage yet? Or maybe your existence-

You stare at the halls blankly, already planning out how you want your funeral to look like.

You can tell that your handmaidens are wincing from a distance, looking anywhere else as one of them is even counting the seconds before-

"What did you just say?"

Ah, she nods. There it is.

Feyd-Rautha stares at you with an offended look on his face, as if he couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. Was he just a joke to you??

Ha, ha, you feel like a clown at the moment.

You clear your throat, composing yourself as you avert your gaze, your hand slowly reaching to rub the back of your neck.

"What I meant was-I didn't think that general Aleksander and I having a small interaction mattered to you. I didn't mean to offend you at all, na-Baron-"

Feyd's eye twitched at the royal status. He was your husband, for fucks sake!-

"-and if I did manage to offend you, I am terribly sorry that I did, and I promise that I will do my best to never do it again-"

You were simply talking to him. And if you thought that that was offending him, then that meant you would never talk to him again.

Feyd deadpanned at the realization. Oh, for fucks sake-

"-and I wouldn't do anything to weaken our marriage, I swear! Even if it is just an arrangement made by-"

The Harkonnen's eyes snap towards you, wide with shock as his chest tightens and twists in an attempt to suffocate itself.

"This marriage is not just an arrangement."

Your eyes widen, voice shrinking in your throat as you stare at him dumbfounded. It seems to be that Feyd-Rautha is already seething.

The muscles in his jaw clench, trying to mask the pain he unfortunately feels as he storms off into who knows where.

Your handmaidens sigh and shake their heads as you stand there completely confused. What was he going to do?? Wasn't this marriage meant to strengthen your families together?-

"My lady, if I may-" "Please just let me have a second to think, Nadia. I believe I may have already planned my own death."

The handmaiden sighs as the other four give you looks of sympathy; all five of them feeling pity towards your... situation.

Your hands clench at your sides, crouching down on your knees as you bury your face in your palms and groan.

Why did it have to turn out like this?? Why of all people did they choose you to be here?? You knew it. You knew you should have stayed as an unfertilized egg and let Paul become whatever he was supposed to be-

Why did it have to turn out like this? Why did that fucking Caladan have to come here and sway his wife?? Why the fuck did he have to be himself and scare the love of his life away? Why was he the very thing she feared?

Feyd paced around his quarters, exhaling sharply through his nose as he tried to keep himself from going batshit insane.

He couldn't kill the general because he was here for political reasons, and he seemed to bring a slight source of comfort from you.

The second reason was because of the fact that every time he believed there's the slightest sliver of hope of growing closer to you, he was brutally mistaken as you do everything in your power to stay away from him. Great, just fucking great.

The Harkonnen slumps down into his office chair, running his hand over his face as he sighs tiredly. He hates how it aches. How the organ inside his ribs is greedy for even a sliver of your attention and love; he cannot control it. His black, wicked soul is undeniably and completely yours. You own him, and he will do anything and everything to make you know that.

A few hours had gone by, yet Feyd could not seem to even construct a simple thought without you appearing inside his mind. You looked lovely today. You always do, yet what made you look ethereal was the calmness in your expression-and Feyd-Rautha is suddenly reminded of your wedding day.

A sigh escapes his lips as his heart skips a beat, suddenly feeling the warmth wash over him. You were so beautiful that day.

The Harkonnens' eyes snap open, narrowing at the sound of footsteps meters outside his chambers. His blade slowly slides out from his sleeve, standing up from his chair as he moves to the thick doors separating the halls from his chamber.

The na-Baron raises his guard, the thick walls and doors muffling the footsteps, making it harder to identify the person. Feyd licks his lips, a dark glint in his eye shimmering in the dim light as he clenches his fists in irritation.

Who the hell would even think about coming to his room at this hour??-

A slight stutter in the strangers' footsteps cause him to pause, listening in on the way they stumble and try to regain balance. It's you-sweet and purely you. And for a moment, Feyd is completely surprised by your arrival. Were you lost? Where are your handmaidens? Why did you walk here alone?-

His thoughts are interrupted by the knocks on the thick doors; soft, hesitant, and careful. So undeniably you. Feyd tilts his head to the side curiously, his knife safely tucked in the inside of his sleeve as he approaches the doors.

The na-Baron opens the chamber doors, tilting his gaze downward as he sees you flinch in surprise. You're dressed in a simple nightgown, a robe on the top with your hair braided. Feyd notes the way your eyes blink in shame and how your lip is slightly pouting-oh, fuck, you look so endearing.

You clear your throat, head bowing down in respect, but your hand rubbing your nape in nervousness. "Good evening, na-Baron," you mumble, feeling cautious in the way he looks at you. "I-I just wanted to apologize for the way I spoke earlier, I did not mean to anger you. And I promise that nothing is going on in between me and the general!-"

Feyd stares at you for a moment, expression empty as he takes second to register what you said. The pale man huffs, averting his eyes as he cracks the door open wider. "Come in, I don't want you to be out here alone," he rasps, a smooth hand carefully grasping the tips of your fingers as he guides you inside.

Your heart skips a beat at the sudden contact, eyes widening in surprise as you let him pull you inside his chambers. The room is rather dark, and a few small orb lights dimmed while everything else is black... and cold. Why is it so cold?-

A shiver goes down your spine, yet you try to ignore it as you wrap your robe tighter around yourself. Why did he want you to come in here? Did he want to talk? Was he going to punish you? Or maybe you're just being too worrisome because you're afraid of him.

Feyd's grip on your fingers tightens in the slightest, feeling how cold they are as he frowns in concern. The na-Baron leans over to a cupboard next to his desk, opening the drawers while his other hand has a firm grip on your fingers. Instincts shock through your system as you lean back, eyes closing as you fear he might bring out a weapon to-

"I can practically feel you freezing." A soft, warm material is placed in your hand as Feyd stares at you to respond. You blink back, looking down to what was placed into your hand. Oh, he gave you a blanket. Feyd-Rautha just gave you a blanket because you were cold.

You're quick to snap back to reality, muttering thank yous as you unfold it quickly and wrap it around your figure. Your arranged husband seems to be satisfied by the look in his eyes, as he offers his hand for you to take. "I want to show you something," he rasps, voice soft and careful as he waits.

You're hesitant to take it, but then you see the look in his pale blue eyes, the way they show no hate or intention to kill. They're soft, vulnerable; and for once, you decide to put your fear aside. Your fingers tremble in taking his, testing the waters before grasping his hand firmly.

The Harkonnens' pupils dilate, staring down into your joined hands as he gives a gentle squeeze before guiding you out of his chambers and into the vast halls of the palace, a floating orb wakening as it follows you nearby for light.

You remain close, aware of the darkness in the halls and how easy it is to be killed by the guards. Feyd notices your uneasiness, pulling you closer to him as the floating orb slowly trails along the both of you, producing a warm dim light to show your path. Your eyes glance to the side, trying to observe the way the na-Baron remains calm and unwavering beside you. Oh, that must be nice, you think.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's holding your hand, oh shit, he doesn't want to pass out-

Feyd gulps, Adam's apple bobbing as he tries not to gawk at your joined hands. He was supposed to take you somewhere, but now he's having slight trouble recalling to which part of the palace he wanted to show you. The adoration he holds for you sometimes messes with his ability to think.

"What do you do when you're not fighting?"

It was a mere whisper. A question that could easily be ignored by how quiet your voice was. Yet Feyd was always attentive, especially when it came to you.

The Harkonnen takes a moment to think about your question, his thumb slightly rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing manner, trying to calm both you and himself from the nerves.

"I train. I attend conferences when my uncle wants me there," Feyd states. His eyes glance towards you, noticing the deflated look on your face as he speaks about his daily life. Your shoulders slump slightly. You would not expect yourself to ever feel sad for your arranged husband, and yet-his life seems as if he did not have much freedom at all.

"Do you-do you ever wish you could do something else?"

Feyd takes a brief pause as he thinks about your question, his eyes shifting to the black sky through the windows.

"What else is there to do?"

You pause, somber seeping its way into your heart as you squeeze his hand a tiny bit tighter. "Well, if it's alright with you, na-Baron, perhaps we could share time together?"

Feyd's eyes widen in surprise, and you suddenly realize how naive you've sounded-

"I-I'm sorry! That was foolish of me to think-"

"I would enjoy that."

Your eyes snap towards his in shock, and he simply returns your gaze with a look of adoration. You feel a slight drumming in your chest, only to realize it's your own heart beating in shyness.

Feyd starts to walk again, yet this time he's more relaxed, confident that you'll stay by his side. And not go frolicking around with that Caladan bitch-

"You're my wife, of course I want to be around you."

It's nothing really, mere words that are phrased to seek soft and delicate. But the way he says it seems like he speaks from his heart, and now a part of you is starting to believe he does have ine after all.

You're both quiet for the rest of the walk, enjoying the comfortable silence between the both of you. The halls of the fortress surround you as he guides you to two grand doors. You tilt your head to the side, looking up at Feyd in curiosity. "What are you going to show me?"

Feyd tilts his head downward, eyes softening as he admires your face. On the other side of the door is one of the courtyards, where its location provides a view of the night sky. It is one of the only places where you can truly see the stars and planets. But there is a grand pillar with mirrors on each side in the center, reflecting the beauty of everything the night shows.

The na-Baron leans forward, his nose brushing against yours as eyes glance to your lips; "the world."

Your eyes widen in curiosity, a small grin forming on your lips as you stare at him happily. That same grin that pierces an arrow through his heart every time-

The na-Baron has heard of your admiration of nature and the world's wonders, but his interest is only you; his entire universe.

[aventurineswife]

Can I geeeeet Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Ratio waking up with their s/o (male reader please?) after an “eventful” night and the reader apologizing profusely for how many marks he ended up leaving?

“We Made Love, and I Bear the Proof”

Tags: Alhaitham x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Male!Reader, Established Relationship, Post-Intimacy Fluff & Teasing, Suggestive Themes, Light Angst (Guilt/Shame Over Marks), Banter & Playful Arguments, Mutual Affection & Possessiveness, Soft/Teasing Dom Energy (Alhaitham & Ratio), Flustered/Subtly Needy Energy (Kaveh), Morning After Vibes, Physical Affection & Gentle Comfort.

Warnings: Suggestive Content (Mentions of intimacy, marking, and possessiveness, but no explicit smut), Marking/Biting/Scratches (Characters are covered in hickeys, bite marks, and scratches from the previous night), Mild Alcohol Mention (Kaveh’s piece briefly implies he might’ve had a drink the night before), Light Power Dynamics (Ratio & Alhaitham being smug/teasing about being marked up, Kaveh being flustered about it), Mild Swearing (Casual cursing in dialogue).

A/N: I may have went a bit overboard... Whoops-🧍‍♀️

The early morning light filtered through the curtains of Alhaitham’s bedroom, casting golden hues across the sheets. The crisp Sumeru air carried the scent of sandalwood and ink—his usual. The warmth beside you remained steady, unwavering, even as you stirred.

You blinked blearily, still hazy from the eventful night before, and shifted slightly. That was when you noticed them—faint scratches trailing down Alhaitham’s toned back, deep red marks along his throat, and a particularly dark bruise blooming just above his collarbone.

Your stomach dropped. "Shit."

Alhaitham’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze already fixed on you like he had woken long before you. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something smug in the way his fingers traced absentmindedly along your wrist, as if committing the weight of you to memory.

"I'm so sorry," you groaned, face buried in your hands. "I—uh, I didn’t realize I got that carried away—”

"Clearly," he cut in smoothly, voice still thick with sleep. "But I don’t see why you’re apologizing."

You peeked through your fingers at him. "Because you look like you got into a fight with a particularly aggressive lion—and lost."

Alhaitham hummed, finally sitting up, the sheets pooling at his waist. He stretched, his toned torso catching the morning light in an unfairly appealing way, before he turned his head slightly to observe the marks you had left on his skin.

Then, in a tone far too nonchalant for the situation, he smirked. "If anything, I’d say it’s a victory."

Your face burned. "Alhaitham."

"You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself," he reminded you, shifting so that his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. "And now you’re embarrassed?"

"I wasn’t trying to maul you—"

"Hm. Could’ve fooled me."

You groaned, shoving your face against his shoulder in sheer mortification, but the warmth of his skin, marked by you, only served to make you more flustered. His chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending a shiver down your spine.

"It’s fine," he murmured, fingers threading lazily through your hair. "Besides, I like the reminder."

His lips brushed against the fresh mark on your neck—the one he had left in return. A possessive streak glinted in his gaze when he pulled away.

"Now, are you planning to take responsibility for them, or shall I return the favor?"

You swallowed thickly. Oh, fuck.

The soft glow of morning bathed the room in warm gold, but the real warmth was beside you—Kaveh, tangled in silk sheets, his hair fanned out like the most intricate masterpiece ever crafted.

He looked peaceful, lips parted slightly in his sleep, his breathing steady. And then—oh.

Your eyes trailed down his bare skin, and guilt punched you in the gut. His porcelain skin was covered in evidence of last night—deep, dark bruises along his neck, light scratches ghosting over his shoulder blades, and a particularly harsh bite mark at his hip.

You barely had time to process it before Kaveh stirred, blinking sleepily at you with those vibrant eyes. He stretched with a soft groan, his arms raising above his head, exposing more of your handiwork.

Your guilt doubled. "Shit—Kaveh, I—"

His gaze followed yours, and when he spotted the marks littering his skin, his face exploded into color. He immediately yanked the sheets up, flustered beyond belief.

"You—!" His voice cracked, and you had never seen him this red before. "You—look at what you did!"

"I'm so sorry," you rushed out, hands raised in surrender. "I—uh—I wasn’t thinking—"

Kaveh buried his face in his hands, groaning in a mix of mortification and something dangerously close to satisfaction.

"I look like a damn canvas!"

"You are an artist’s muse," you teased, earning a weak swat to the arm.

"Don’t flatter yourself," he mumbled, voice muffled. Then, after a pause, his hands lowered just enough for his eyes to peek through his fingers. "...You really got carried away, huh?"

"I didn’t mean to—"

"You bit me, you menace!" He gestured dramatically to the mark at his hip, and you covered your face in shame.

"I’ll make it up to you," you promised, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder in silent apology. Kaveh sighed, still visibly flustered, but he didn’t pull away.

"You better," he huffed. Then, quieter, "But... maybe I didn’t totally mind."

Oh? You grinned against his skin. "Noted."

Morning arrived in quiet stillness, but your mind was not at ease.

Ratio, the insufferably intelligent, sharp-tongued man currently lying next to you, was covered in proof of your inability to control yourself. His skin was marred with bruises—your fingerprints at his waist, faint bites trailing up his chest, and a particularly deep mark at the base of his throat.

You were so fucked.

"Uh..." You swallowed. "Ratio, I—"

His striking eyes, sharp even in the haze of sleep, cracked open. He studied you in silence, gaze flickering down his own body as he took in the damage.

Then, in a voice infuriatingly even, he mused, "Fascinating."

You choked. "Fascinating?"

"Your enthusiasm last night was... excessive." He traced a faint bruise at his wrist, lips twitching slightly. "But I’ll admit, the empirical evidence is intriguing."

"Ratio, I practically mauled you!" You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "I—fuck—I got carried away—"

His amused hum interrupted you. "So, you’re apologizing?"

"Obviously?"

Ratio tilted his head, violet strands falling over one eye as he considered you. His lips curved ever so slightly.

"Then allow me to pose a counterargument," he murmured, leaning in, his breath warm against your ear. "If you were truly remorseful, you wouldn’t be looking at me like that again."

You froze, heat crawling up your neck.

Shit.

Ratio chuckled, the sound like silk and steel. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

You scowled, shoving him back onto the mattress in sheer frustration.

"You are insufferable."

"And yet, you seem to enjoy suffering." His smirk deepened. "Shall I prove that hypothesis?"

You barely had time to react before he flipped the situation entirely—pinning you against the sheets, his sharp, knowing gaze drinking in every ounce of your flustered state.

You were so, so screwed.