#touching prompts

[blooming-violets]

Giving preschool teacher Peter Parker a massage, I know those kiddos use his long limbs as a human jungle gym

[from this prompt list] [feel free to request a prompt from the list]

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

Gray Hairs and Massages

"And then, for some unknown reason, Marcus stood up and started singing Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs while Allie attempted to do the worm around him. She hit her face off the floor and got a bloody nose. Meanwhile, Jessica and Kit have climbed to the top of the bookcase and are attempting to jump off, Kevin has Chubs the hamster in his pocket even after I told him not to touch the class pet, Max is spinning in circles so fast that he starts puking, Rowen is crying in the corner because he misses his mom, and the rest of the kids are sitting on the circle time rug looking at me like they've lost all hope in my abilities to run a classroom!"

Peter let out a loud, exaggerated sigh and flopped face first onto the bed after detailing his chaotic work day to you.

"I thought fighting crime was hard," he mumbled into the bunched up blankets under his face. "Preschool is worse than any bad guy I've ever come across."

You repressed a laugh for his own sanity and took a seat on the bed beside him, "At least it'll be good practice for when we have kids. If you can handle 22 children, I think you should be able to handle four with ease."

He peaked his eyes up from his blanket prison to give you a questioning look, "Four? You want four kids now? What happened to only two?"

You shot him a smile and gave an innocent shrug, "Hearing you talk about the chaos made me excited. I want to see you in action. Super dad, Peter Parker. It has a nice ring to it."

He groaned and hid his face back into the blankets, "I don't think I could even handle one. These children are crazed. They're taking over. They know I'm weak. They can smell my blood in the water and they're circling into attack mode. They're going to eat me alive. One day someone will check in on me and my half devoured body will be staring lifeless up at the ceiling while the children have gone completely feral as they feast on my flesh for snacktime. It's Lord of the Flies in there. My head has been pounding all evening."

You chucked at his over exaggeration of the situation and patted his back, "Such a drama queen. My day was lovely, thank you for asking. I got to sit in a quiet library and sort books."

He rolled over and flopped his head into your lap, staring up at you, "That sounds wonderful. Wanna trade?"

"You wish." You brushed your fingers through his thick hair. "Want me to give you a massage? I'll go grab some ibuprofen for your headache and massage away your troubles."

He responded with a pathetically sad whine, "Please. I'm dying."

You scooted out from under him to go grab a bottle of pain meds from the cabinet, along with a glass of water, and your cooling eye mask from the fridge. When you returned, Peter was laying in his boxers and had half unbuttoned his shirt before giving up. His arms were flopped onto the mattress and spread out to either side of him while he stared in a daze up at the ceiling.

"Help me," he croaked, his voice clearly strained from trying to speak over boisterous four year old's all day. "'m so tired. Can't even finish taking my shirt off. Just wanna be comfy..."

"Oh, honey, you poor thing," you chuckled under your breath. "Come here."

You placed his things on the bedside table and quickly made work of unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders, grabbing the pain relief next to him and chugging the entire glass of water with it. You helped fix the eye mask around his face and he rolled back onto his stomach.

You climbed up on top of him, straddling your legs on either side of his hips, and started to rub your hands over his bare shoulders. Peter let out a low groan of approval.

"Your hands are so cold," he mumbled.

"Aren't they always like that?" You replied, working your fingers into his large muscles with circular motions.

"Yeah but they feel nice now. You should quit your library job and work as a masseuse. Libraries are a dying breed."

You gasped in feigned outrage, "How dare you speak of my beloved library like that?"

He shrugged his tense shoulders, a tiny smile gracing his half hidden face, "Truth hurts, baby."

"Yeah, well, at least I know I'll never become a preschool teacher."

"Hey, don't mess with us teachers. We're hardcore."

You laughed, "Says the man who couldn't even take off his shirt tonight."

He gave a sly smile, "Maybe I wanted you to be the one to undress me? Maybe I knew exactly what I was doing?"

"Or maybe you were exhausted and lazy?" You patted his shoulder and rolled off him, sitting upright on the mattress. "Turn around and roll over. Put your head in my lap. I'll massage your head."

He did as he was told and settled nicely into your lap, a lingering smile on his lips. You gently took the eye mask off his face to have better access to him. You started with a gentle pressure, circling around his temples and working your way up his hairline to his forehead.

"Imma fall 'sleep," he mumbled.

"Go for it. You deserve the rest."

You continued to work on massaging his scalp, listening to his breathing get steadier and softer, when you looked down and quietly gasped at what you saw. As you ran your fingers through his thick hair, you noticed a patch of gray glinting under the dim light. The more you brushed through it, the more single strands of gray you saw. It wasn't immediately obvious unless you were up close and grooming him like you were doing but, there was no denying it, Peter was graying.

"Well, shit," you whispered under your breath.

Peter peaked a sleepy eye open and mumbled, "What? Don't tell me a kid gave me lice again."

"Not lice. Did you know that you're graying?" You couldn't hide the tinge of amusement in your voice.

His eyes snapped open, the sleep vanishing from his face, and he shot up right.

"What? I'm not going gray! Don't say that!" He gasped, putting a protective hand to his precious hair.

You laughed at his over the top reaction, "Sorry, Pete, but go look in the mirror."

He rolled off the bed and ran to the bathroom. You laid down to curl up in the warm spot his body heat had left on the bed and smiled when you heard his yelp of horror from the other room.

"No!" He yelled. "Those damn kids! This is their fault!" He shuffled back into the bedroom with a pout. "Am I old?"

You rolled your eyes, "You're 35, Peter."

"Is that old?" He sank to knees beside the bed in front of your face and looked up at you with pleading, but playful, eyes.

You nodded, taking on a serious tone, "Very. Oldest man alive."

"Oy vey," he stifled a laugh with his hand. "Might as well get me a cane and call me grandpa. Now that I think about it, my father grayed really early and so did Uncle Ben. At least they both still had a full head of hair. I'd rather be gray than bald. If I start to bald, I need you to put me out of my misery."

You scooted over to give him space to climb into bed with you, "Come on, old man. I promise if you go bald that I will make you a wig out of my own hair."

He rolled into bed beside you and snuggled his face next to yours so your noses were brushing against each other, "I have gray hair."

"I know," you whispered back. "That's so fucking hot."

"Really?"

You nodded, "Oh yeah. You're giving off serious daddy vibes right now." You gave him a sneaky smirk. "Is this old man too tired to please his wife tonight?"

His smile matched yours as you watched his eyes spark to life, "Wow, look at that, I suddenly feel fully rested. You're the perfect cure to a crazy day."

[avocado-writing]

45 for the touch prompts, with tangerine, if you're able to! 🌻

45. feeling their temperature

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not fucking sick,” Tangerine snaps, then bursts into a cough so violent you’re surprised he doesn’t hack up a lung. You suppress the need to roll your eyes and instead nod towards the sofa, encouraging him to sit down. Tangerine grumbles but complies - his cooperation a testament to his ill-health - he falls back heavily and grunts as he sinks into the cheap upholstery of your loveseat. 

Christ, he looks unwell. He’s paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat all over his face. You’re amazed he even made it out to visit you, but come rain or shine he always visits on weekends. ‘Just to make sure you aren’t getting up to no good’, he insists. You’re not quite sure you believe that. 

You press the back of your hand to his forehead. He stiffens, not expecting the touch, and you’re worried for a moment you’ve gone too far - but quickly he relaxes under you as he gets used to the feeling. In fact he even seems to be leaning into it. 

“Well?” he asks, eventually, when you’ve been holding your hand against his warm skin for too long without saying anything. 

“I’m making you a Lemsip. And some soup,” is your professional opinion and, knowing he has no choice when you’re this made up, Tangerine lets himself be fussed over for once. 

[malabu]

cute interactions

X leans their head on Y’s shoulder, Y presses a kiss to X’s scalp

kissing in the rain/snow

longing stares

hand holding under the table

bonus points if X touches Y’s thigh under the table to comfort them

passing notes

glancing at each other’s lips

slow dancing in private

bonus points if they’re doing it in low lighting/refrigerator lighting

[bunnimew]

Getchu a man you can climb, and won't hesitate to give you piggybacks. ;)

[trixree]

Also 35 kissing bruises/scars with codywan??? Gotta get som obi angst up in this bitch

Touching prompts #35: kissing bruises/scars

Their General resembles a Vod.

He came to them already having known war. He came to them already understanding the importance of orders, of duty. He came to them with hair like fire, a solider's voice, and a surly vod'ika tripping at his heels.

He came to them with scars. Their General has burn scars, blaster scars, and silvery ones around his neck in a ring - like something painful used to rest there. He came with old wounds speckled atop his hands, his arms, the soles of his feet. He resembles them, in this way. Obi-Wan is decorated with battle.

Cody asks after each mark, but only one per evening. He wants to spend his lifetime putting names and places to those marks, mapping them with his fingers, eyes and lips.

"This one?" he murmurs, having decided. He skirts the long-faded ring around Obi-Wan's throat - paler than the rest of his skin and oddly textured, when one knows to look.

Obi-Wan jerks slightly at the touch, gentle though Cody is. He shoots him an apologetic look for the flinch and leans heavier onto Cody's shoulder.

"Did I ever tell you about Bandomeer, my love?"

"No," Cody replies. He skirts his lips feather-light across the scar. "Tell me."

And in this way, too, Obi-Wan resembles a vod: the sharing of stories in the dark.

[powerbottomeminem]

2. running fingers through hair

From this prompt list ✨

DeShaun's fingertips felt warm and strong, knowing exactly how to run through Marshall’s shortly cut hair to make him purr. Right between his bunny ears where he liked it best.

Marshall closed his eyes basking in the soft touches. Nose filled with the wolf’s heavy, woody scent. An old towering conifer in the deep of night. Instinctively Marshall felt save and secure and peaceful, absolutely sure the alpha wolf would protect him from any harm.

His bunny ears twitched slightly with enjoyment, honing in on the other’s breathing.

DeShaun's room was dark and quiet. Together they lay in his bed, blanket pulled up to their chins and limbs entangled in a cozy, lazy cuddle.

"You was great tonight", DeShaun whispered into the night, his deep voice slightly raspy.

A hot wave came through his ears and down his whole body. Marshall smirked, "Thanks, it’s all about practice, even sucking dick, y’know."

Fingertips flicked against one if his bunny ears, DeShaun huffed a little chiding. "I meant the battle, dumbass."

As if Marshall didn’t know. "That too, I guess." He loved to stand on a stage and rap some ill shit, but it never felt quite right. An omega bunny winning rap battles, a white boy besting everyone - not quite fitting the expectations.

"Don’t think too hard", the wolf said and perhaps felt the little insecurities through their soul bond.

"Me? Never." How could he anyway? With a dick in his mouth Marshall’s head emptied out immediately. And he loved it like this.

DeShaun's taste still lingered on his tongue. The warm fingertips still caressed through his hair.

"You growing it out?", the wolf asked, "I liked it longer better."

That had been long ago. Marshall had shaved it off in a spur of the moment sorta thing. "Hm", he hummed noncommittal.

"It was better wavy", DeShaun continued to explain. "You should grow it out again. Wavy suits you."

Marshall couldn’t help a little smile, his best friend’s affectionate honesty always set off little sparks inside his chest. "Maybe I will."

[the-melting-world]

21. For Solo and Javier?

Touching prompts: kissing the other’s brow

There were two sunbathing chairs on the outdoor terrace, but only one of them was occupied by Javier Navarro and his lover, Solo de la Vega. Javier was more upright, reading a light book in one hand, stroking Solo’s hair with the other. Solo, draped along Javier’s side, beat his feather lace fan gently, timing it with the breeze rolling in from the bay. 

It was a wonder that Solo kept the fan steady because his eyes were half mast – it was safe to say that he was dozing. Only stirred by the drop of a kiss from above from time to time. His lover reminding him what was what. That this was now and they were together for it.

.

120 words

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Touch Starved Prompts

It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

Like magnets they moved together, pressing into each other's warmth.

There always needed to be a reason, an excuse for their bodies to touch.

Being touch-starved and needy was really starting to mess with their reputation as a tough guy.

It was like their skin was calling out for the other's gentle touch.

They didn't like to be touched by just anyone. But that didn't mean they didn't also crave it sometimes.

A coldness took over their body that only the warmth of another person could erase.

They wanted to be touched, to be missed, to be loved. Was that too much to ask for?

Leaning onto each other, just being close, was enough.

Their bodies fitting together like they always were intended to become one.

[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

[novelbear]

“say you won’t let go” - some touch starved scenarios

prompt list by @novelbear

heart pounding whenever the other does so much as to hold onto their wrist while guiding them through a crowd

one just casually sitting down on the other's lap and they start internally freaking the hell out

hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters

^^ the other notices so they pull them into a hug, smiling as they just watch them melt

"wait, don't go, please.."

"is this okay?" "it's more than okay."

already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held but then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't

wearing the others' clothes so that it can at least feel like they're hugging them, even for just a moment

feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there

^ trying and failing to hold back their tears as they do so

"can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

when the other holds onto their waist briefly as they're passing by and it just send chills down their spine

breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much

their breath hitching whenever the other gets a little closer

^ feeling crushed when that action is taken as a sign of discomfort, and they watch them slowly back off

holding onto a stuffed animal/pillow, imagining that it's their lover in their embrace instead

one leaning their head onto the other's shoulder suddenly and they just freeze

"i wasn't sure how much longer i could have taken this..."

[blooming-violets]

43: giving them a piggy-back ride

[from this prompt list] [feel free to request a prompt from the list]

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

The Piggy-Back

"Are we there yet?" Peter dragged his feet behind you as you trekked ahead. "Can't I just swing us there? It would be so much faster."

You stopped walking and turned around with a huff, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you are worse than a child!" You stuck your finger out at him in an accusatory manner. "We have to walk six blocks. That is not far. We do not need to swing everywhere. And, besides, it messes up my hair and I get wind burn. I'm sick of swinging. I would like to show up to this event not looking like I crawled out of a wind tunnel."

The two of you were attempting to walk the few blocks to your friend's house party. It was colder than you anticipated outside and, you had to admit, that swinging there would be faster. Still, you didn't want to risk the hard work you put into doing your hair. No amount of hairspray could hold it in place after a swing through the city.

"But it's cold," he pouted at you. His bottom lip stuck out to resemble a toddler about to throw a tantrum and his eyes widened into pleading, round saucers.

The look made you burst into laughter, "You're pathetic. Aren't you supposed to be a tough crime fighting superhero?"

Peter shook his head, keeping up the pout, "Not when I don't have a suit on. Now I'm just a normal person who's cold and sick of walking." He shuffled up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hiding his face into the collar of your jacket. "Carry me the rest of the way."

You gave him another laugh, "You should be the one carrying me." You untangled yourself from his grasp and bent your knees. "Hop on, Spidey. I'll piggyback you. It's only two more blocks."

His amused giggle filled you with joy, "I'll squish you."

"Give it a try! I'm stronger than you think."

Peter didn't question you further and he carefully hopped up onto your back with a kind of grace that only Spider-Man could manage. The second his weight hit you, you took a few running steps forward to keep your balance, before quickly finding your footing again. He wasn't as heavy as you thought he'd be but it was still a struggle to stay up right.

You gave a grunt and attempted to stumble onward to your destination, "Alright. I got this."

His laughter filled your ear and tickled your cheek as he nuzzled his head next to yours, "I'm impressed you didn't immediately fall flat on your face. I should travel like this more often."

You responded with another grunt, struggling to get any words out as you concentrated on not dropping him. The two of you made it approximately one full block before your legs gave out. Peter jumped off and wrapped a protective arm around your waist right before your knees could hit the concrete.

"Careful," he warned with a smile. He steadied you back on your feet and planted a kiss to the top of your head. "I told you I would squish you. Come here, it's my turn now."

He bent down nice and low for you to scramble onto his back instead. You clambered on top of him, a lot less graceful than he had been getting onto yours, and wrapped your legs around his waist. He hoisted you up higher with ease and started a steady jog down the street.

"Now you're just showing off," you rolled your eyes but smiled as you tighten your grip around his neck.

"I'm making up for the lost time. It took you a solid five minutes to walk one block. Slowest horse I've ever ridden."

You gently slapped his chest in protest, saying sarcastically, "You ride a lot of horses, Peter? And, relationship tip, never refer to your partner as a horse."

He chuckled, "Yeah, the second it came out of my mouth, I regretted my choice of words." He slowed his jog as he approached the party. "Oh god, I can hear the music already. Terrible choice. Awful music. Let's go back home instead."

You couldn't hear what he could but you tried to protest, "No, we came all this way. Your antisocial behavior and disagreement on music choice is not an excuse to miss out on our friend's party."

You felt him tighten his grip around your legs and could see the glint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Who's riding who?" He asked.

"What are you talking ab-"

Before you could finish the question, he spun around and started a swift walk back in the direction you came.

"Peter!" You gasped.

"This horse says that it's time to go home. You have to be better at controlling your animals if you want them to listen to you!" He quickened his step. "Hold on tight."

He didn't have to tell you twice for you to know what was about to happen. You tightened your arms around his neck and braced yourself for the inevitable jerk as he shot the two of you up into the air. Taking the time to get dressed up, just to skip out on your friend's party right as you arrived, wasn't the sort of disappointment you would have felt a few years ago. Instead, you were relieved as the wind tossed back your hair and you clung to your boyfriend's back. Even hurdling 50 feet above the ground, you felt safe tucked against him. If Peter didn't feel comfortable being somewhere, he would simply just not go. It was a quality you had learned to admire about him even if it often led to moments like this.

"Promise me that the music was actually insufferable and that we would have had a terrible time," you shouted over the wind whistling in your ear.

He nodded, calling back, "They were playing Cotton Eyed Joe, babe. I promise you, this is for our own sanity. I'm saving you from a night of pain."

"Ew," you grumbled. "Fine but at least swing us to the nice Mexican restaurant instead. We look cute. Let's not waste it. Might as well make use of our night."

"One sexy, hot date night, coming right up!"

[avocado-writing]

not sure if youre open yet for touching reqs but #1 (foreheads touching) with tangerine gn reader plz thanks have a great day!

touching foreheads

“Breathe with me.“

You can feel the thunder of Tangerine’s heart just from when you take his hand. Train stations. He’s not good in them, not any more anyway. Not since Tokyo. And now, at the entrance to Waterloo, he’s frozen fucking solid at the prospect of going in amongst the heaving swell of bodies. 

His eyes are wide as they dart back and forth, palms covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Jaw set tightly but it doesn’t hide his shaking. You take your face in your grasp until he looks at you; then you press your forehead to his, the tips of your noses bumping together. 

“Breathe with me, babe,” you encourage. In for four, hold for four, out for eight. You inhale with him. Ignore the people giving you dirty looks as they pass. Right now, it’s only the two of you, and as you feel him eventually relax as he follows your instructions. 

Just the two of you. That’s all that matters. 

[scealaiscoite]

touch-starved prompts ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱

— “can… can i have a hug? please?”

— “oh, sweetheart- come here.”

— “how long has it been since someone hugged you?”

— “just hold me.”

— “is this okay?”

— “we don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to. we can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”

— “can i hug you? you look like you could do with it.”

— “are you blushing?! that’s adorable.”

— “it’s okay, baby, just let it all out. i’ve got you, i promise.”

— “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.”

— “please, never apologise for wanting to be loved.”

— “you don’t need to earn my affection, not now and not ever.”

— “i’m never more at peace than i am in your arms.”

— “not that i think cuddling will fix everything, but i’m pretty sure it can’t make things worse.”

— “i never knew i could feel this loved.”

[miakate-writes]

Touch starved / comfort prompts :)

[a/n: if anyone has anyone prompts ideas or wants to see me write for any specific prompts (for any specific characters?) pls don’t hesitate to pop into my asks box :D and if you end up using any of my prompts pls tage me, i would love to read them!]

that big hug in the airport when character A comes home for a holiday. B runs into their arms and squeezes them so tight that A is thinking they might break a rib.

character B feeling character A’s hand on the small of their back while going through a crowd.

character A knows exactly when character B needs cuddles. long day at work? cuddles. didn’t get enough sleep? cuddles.

Character B is away on a trip (either with friends or for work) and Character A is laying awake in their empty bed. the only thing that can get A to sleep each night is a long phone call with their favourite person. telling B about their day calms them down enough for sleep. and they do it all again the next day.

“we don’t have to talk about yet it if you don’t want to. we can just lay here like this, just relax into my arms.” one whispers in the others ear.

Character A is worried about coming off as too clingy and first. Once Character B realised how much A thrives on physical touch, they make sure they set aside enough time each day to just hold them.

If they ever go to bed while in an argument Character B still wraps an arm around Character A, knowing that they won’t sleep without it and to let them know they still love them although they’re arguing.

[follow me on tiktok and instagram @/miakate.writes <3]

[bluerosefox]

Joker Messed Around and Found Freaking Out.

Okay hear me out..

Class trip to Gotham, class gets held up by Joker who actually can scare the class cause they are still teens and they know Joker has a high kill rate, like yes they're used to ghosts and junk but none of them wanna die yet or at least die outside of Amity, if they die they wanna have a chance of coming back as a ghost at the very least.

Anyways, Danny feels pure dread when Joker takes Jazz hostage, who was elected to be a chaperone for Danny's class since her volunteering would look good on college recommendations, and finds her little mutters about his mental health reminding him of Harley before she left him. He even jokes about needing a new partner and wonders how long it'll take to break her like he did to Harley.

Danny is frozen in his spot but something snaps when he hears Jazz cry out after Joker backhands her. Before anyone, even the Bats, realize it Danny is on top of the Joker beating his face in, he only gets up once, takes Joker's discarded crowbar and slams it over his head, barely grazing the dazed man but it does destroy the flooring behind him, while screaming to never ever touch his sister. That he will destroy Joker if he even thinks about coming after her. That even in the afterlife he'll never be safe from him.

All this happens so fast that by the time the Jocks from Danny's school, Red Hood and Nightwing get Danny off, Joker is beaten badly. He's still feral screaming at Joker though, calling him everything under the sun, spouting off about how the dead are ready to rip him apart when Joker (or you can have Danny call him by his actual name if you wanna strike some "the fuck? How'd he know that?") Finally passes away, that even death will not save him from Danny's wrath. Danny is squirming hard in their holds, nearly breaks free a few times when he hears Joker groaning, but only stops when Jazz, after getting looked over by Red Robin comes running over and just..

Hugs Danny.

And like a kitten getting scuffed by the neck he goes limp. Just breathes heavily, eyes burning from anger, fear, tears, and relief, before he returns the hug. He starts crying and mutters low that he can't lose her, that he almost lost her again and "is this even a fraction how Dan felt when he lost you?"

And Jazz just shushes him and does what she can to comfort him...

[powerbottomeminem]

16. massaging them❤️‍🔥

From this prompt list ✨

The skin underneath his hands radiated warmth, almost like the sun. His very own personal sun. Today his sun was a little grumpy and annoyed with life, though Nicolas thought he hid it well. Marshall knew him better, he saw the little tense quirk in the corner of Nicolas’s mouth that betrayed his feelings.

Marshall wasn’t sure why exactly his boyfriend was in a bad mood today, but the answer didn’t really matter. Sometimes a day was just shit. There wasn’t much to be done about it.

However, Marshall would still try to cheer his boyfriend up a little. Just a little reminder that tomorrow could be good again, that Nicolas just needed to hang in there and things could improve, that Nicolas wasn’t alone.

Admittedly, Marshall’s day was already better the way his hands moved over his boyfriend’s shoulders. His fingers caressed softly the dark lines of the tribal tattoo that adorned them. Marshall loved it so very much.

The tip of his index finger followed the lines softly, drawing on the warm skin. Marshall smiled a little.

But he wasn’t kneeling over his boyfriend for fun - not only at least. So Marshall cracked his knuckles and started in earnest, his boyfriend always needed it with more force, not just a massage but anything else seemed unlikely today.

With pressure Marshall kneaded into the hard muscles, his boyfriend’s body always too tense, always on guard. His hands moved slowly and deliberately across the shoulders, sometimes down to the small of Nicolas’s back and his slim waist. He really had the shape of a triangle in a sense, usually Marshall just admired him for it and loved the suits that highlighted his boyfriend’s physique.

Oddly enough, Nicolas’s body stayed very much the same from year to year. Well, he trained very much in the same manner always, so it wasn’t perhaps that odd. But from Marshall’s experience it was, his own body fluctuated between very slim and trained or various degrees of chubby. Sometimes he had more of a problem with this than other times, probably normal.

Nicolas’s shoulders were strong and muscular, they gave his small stature a stocky look even though he was actually rather slim. A little bony even where muscles were naturally sparse.

The skin radiated warmth like the sun and yet was always too pale as if the sun never shined here, akin to sickly even. More conspicuous when Nicolas’s natural skin color should be a little darker anyway, but wasn’t. One could see his Japanese heritage wanting to come through here. Perhaps another side effect of his medication? Who knew.

Marshall rather enjoyed the touch. The warmth, the tattoo, the many tiny scars. And slowly he could feel Nicolas’s muscles softening some, his posture relaxing just a little bit. With a little smile Marshall kissed the back of Nicolas’s neck. Glad that whatever was wrong with the world today was becoming a little less wrong.