if you’re open to requests/just an idea maybe some touch starved prompts?
touch-starved prompts—for when they ache, but don't know how to ask. adjust phrasing as necessary. feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <3 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips.
“you can… hold me. if you want.” “i’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
character a flinching instinctively, only to melt the second character b gently cups their face and says, “you’re safe now. you don’t have to pull away.”
“do you want me to keep touching you?” a nod. eyes closed. they don’t trust their voice.
tracing invisible shapes on their palm, the kind you used to draw when you were kids. “i remembered you liked this. i didn’t forget.”
arms around their waist from behind — “i don’t want you to think you have to be strong all the time.”
brushing their knuckles over a scar you didn’t know they had. “does it still hurt?” “not when you do that.”
falling asleep with your head on their chest, hearing their heartbeat steady for the first time in forever.
“you’re shaking.” “i haven’t been held in a long time.”
hugging them like you’re afraid they’ll disappear. and them hugging back harder.
“i know i don’t say it often but... i miss being close to you.”
they hesitate before leaning into your hand — then cling to it like they’ll fall apart without it.
“can you just… stay like this?” the words are small. the need is loud.
letting them cry silently into your hoodie, not asking questions. just staying. just being there.
you offer your hand. they stare at it like it’s the sun. like they forgot warmth existed.
“i’m scared.” “me too. but you don’t have to be alone this time.”
“you can… hold me. if you want.” “i’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
they flinch at first—then lean into the touch. “you’re safe now. you don’t have to pull away.”
“do you want me to keep touching you?” a slow nod. no words. just need.
tracing tiny shapes into their palm like you used to. “i remembered you liked this.”
arms wrapped around their waist from behind. “you don’t always have to be strong.”
brushing knuckles over a scar. “does it still hurt?” “not when you do that.”
resting your head on their chest, letting the silence speak.
“you’re shaking.” “i haven’t been held in a long time.”
hugging like the world is ending—and maybe it is.
“i know i don’t say it often but... i miss being close to you.”
they hesitate—then cling to your hand like it’s oxygen.
“can you just… stay like this?” (the words are small. the need is loud.)
letting them cry into your hoodie, no questions asked. just warmth. just presence.
offering your hand. they look at it like they forgot what warmth felt like.
“i’m scared.” “me too. but we don’t have to be alone anymore.”
