#I never ever vent ever but I just can’t stop talking about it or this sadness will eat me from inside

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Another part of untangling the Garashir knot i.e. trying to make their relationship make sense for fic-writing purposes is the question of Bashir’s ability to trust and be vulnerable around Garak.

I got to thinking about that because of this 10-year-old post (yay old meta dives!) that points out that Bashir is just as emotionally closed off as Garak in The Wire, and it’s really true - he never explicitly tells Garak he that he cares about him, but instead frames his care for him through their doctor-patient relationship, or through his higher ethical convictions (that is, when Garak says “Have you considered I might be getting exactly what I deserve?” and Bashir says “No one deserves this”). And given that part of the conflict of that episode is Bashir’s uncertainty as to whether Garak actually considers him a friend or cares for him on the same level as Bashir cares for Garak - as indicated in Bashir’s conversation with Dax - I think it speaks to a level of emotional self-protection on Bashir’s part that’s pretty often at play in his relationship with Garak.

Because for all that he wants Garak to open up to him in those early episodes - it comes up in a more playful mode in the way they banter with each other, but The Wire shows more legitimate frustration from Bashir at the possibility that Garak might not trust him - Bashir never actually leads by example there. When does he ever share anything about his personal history with Garak? When does he ever confide in him about his hopes and fears and insecurities? Pretty much never! And he’s not at all averse to sharing things about himself, whether it’s to get laid (like the adapted story about his medical exams) or to make a friend (like him telling Miles about Palis in Armageddon Game, or telling that pregnant woman about Kukalaka in The Quickening). He gave Jadzia his medical school journals (to get laid… and make a friend?). And there are plenty of instances of him confiding in his friends - Miles, Jadzia, Ezri - about his insecurity, fear of failure, feeling like he’s a monster because of his genetic engineering, etc.

But not with Garak. The closest he gets to sharing anything significant about himself is his grumpiness about turning thirty in Distant Voices, which isn’t even close. And you could argue that that’s a contrivance of the writing, a consequence of their relationship not being allowed to be developed more. But I actually think it makes a lot of sense from a character angle. Because for all that he seemingly can’t stop talking about himself, Bashir is a lot more selective about what parts of himself that he shares than it initially seems, as is most obviously demonstrated by the fact that he hid his being genetically engineered from everyone for years. So I do take him at his word when he tells Jadzia in The Wire that he doesn’t exactly trust Garak either, and I think that’s modeled in his (possibly subconscious) reluctance to truly open up to him. I mean, in Distant Voices he casts the guy telepathically attacking his brain as Garak! Which he and Garak laugh off in an extremely charming scene at the end of the episode, but it really does say something about how he sees Garak on a subconscious level.

So it’s honestly much easier for me to imagine fic scenes and whatnot in which Garak opens up to Bashir, because there is plenty of precedent for that in canon - largely in The Wire, but also when he vents to Bashir about his frustration with Tain and desire for Tain’s forgiveness in In Purgatory’s Shadow. And there’s a real sense that he really does want to unburden himself to Bashir, even if primarily in his own evasive, circumlocutionary way. But it’s so, so hard for me to get Bashir to a place where he’d do something similar with Garak, because given his characterization wrt their dynamic, I just feel like there’d need to be so much more work done in their relationship to get him to feel that kind of trust towards Garak.

(This dovetails with my headcanon that they weren’t that close in the later seasons, because the events later in the show would honesty make that even more difficult. After being interrogated by an intelligence organization, I imagine Bashir would be even warier of Garak!)

There’s also the fact that the most intense intimacy between the two of them always comes up in situations where Bashir is the stronger one, and Garak is the one who needs to be cared for, who’s being pushed into being vulnerable. And that again is a contrivance of the writing, but it is something that I think is compelling to contemplate when it comes to their relationship dynamic - specifically, how it might affect a long-term relationship dynamic in a post-canon setting. Because Bashir can be something of a fixer-upper when it comes to his romantic relationships, and I do see him as drawn to dynamics where he’s the stronger one who’s positioned to care for and guide the other person. And so, while I don’t think Bashir would be the sole cause of any difficulties that might arise in their relationship - trying to get open and honest communication from Elim Garak really would be like pulling teeth - I can really see him falling into a pattern of thinking with Garak wherein Garak is the one who needs to be cared for, the one who needs to communicate with him, etc etc, but being very very bad at being open and communicative with Garak in turn. Even if their relationship does develop sufficiently for him to feel more comfortable sharing himself with Garak - and I really think that it could - I still imagine his first impulse when he’s Going Through It would be to close himself off from Garak. And that does cause problems.

A broader angle that canon does not really bring out is the potential for Bashir’s dynamic with Garak to draw out some of Bashir’s hypocrisies, or aspects of his ideology that are incomplete or contradictory. Bashir on Cardassia post-canon has a lot of potential to do this - not that I’d want him to let go of Federation ideals, but the reality of living somewhere else would necessitate those ideals being qualified, or him becoming more flexible. And with the shift in their dynamic, in which Garak is in his natural habitat (even if it’s drastically changed from the Cardassia he remembers) and Bashir is the outsider, Garak could potentially be put in the role of having to guide or protect Bashir. And given the nature of Cardassian politics, the actual methods he might take in order to do so would imo not necessarily be within Bashir’s comfort zone. And I like the idea of that conflict, and that kind of testing of Bashir’s values and expectations and perceptions, coming through on a smaller scale just within their relationship, wherein Bashir really wants Garak to communicate with him but finds it (not even consciously!) very difficult to reciprocate that.

[not-bluejay]

guys i’m totally and completely fine with the fact that no one ever cares about me as much as i care about them ^U^ <- lying

[seventh-district]

sighs and collapses and disintegrates into the wind

[scrimple]

the girl urge to isolate from everyone because nobody cares about me lol

[godblooded]

tfw i have heard ‘kat could talk to a wall’ my entire life and it sucks when sometimes it genuinely feels like an insult.

[amberwings]

I… feel… like… a… little… zombie!!!

[djljpanda]

Lucifer Morningstar X Fallen Exorcist Reader

Ever since his split from Lilith Lucifer has been a reck feeling like no one can love him, need him, or understand him again

You have been an exorcist for a couple of thousand years now being one of the best exorcists Heaven could ever ask for

But deep down you always felt bad for those you had killed feeling like yes Hell is for those who have done wrong but what about those who did the wrong things for the right reasons

So on the next extermination day you tried to run away from it all but when Adam found out he took it upon himself to kill you

You were able to get away before Adam could finish you off but nothing could prepare you for meeting Lucifer himself

For some reason Lucifer took you in and helped you out and yes you did come out to him about you being a “fallen angel” and your ideals on heaven, earth, and hell

Lucifer just sat there and listened and for the first time since Lilith someone understood him

Now at first you two became roommates in a way, mostly helping him out with his work, giving him duck ideas, being his bodyguard and secretary, and you did try to push him into talking to Charlie more but you understood on why he couldn’t do it himself

You did face palm as when he called her all he did was tell her to have that meeting with Adam, at least it’s a start

Charlie dose know of you but saw you more as her fathers secretary or his best friend, like an aunt, she is happy how you think there is a way to get sinners in to heaven and how you told her if she ever needs help or to talk to someone you are just quick call

Lilith dose know of you and you may have never seen her face to face she is happy someone is keeping her ex happy

Now if you ever get together it would be the best for the both of you cause I’m sure you would want to confess first but with the thoughts of you killing his people and Lilith, it just made you hesitant but with a simple duck jester (making a duck quack an “I love you”) Lucifer confessed his feelings to you

Charlie I think would be happy for her dad to have found someone and yes at first she did see you as her aunt but she is happy to call you her step parent sand she isn’t afraid of telling everyone that either

That’s one of the major reason on why Lucifer likes you, his daughter loves you like a parental figure

This Lucifer is just a sad boy so if you just sit there and cuddle him he would love you forever and if add words of praise he is just melting

Definitely will vent to you cause he is that comfortable around you and he is happy that you feel the same way when you vent

You always support his duck creations and yes late nights would consist of you two role playing with the ducks, when you two started dating he made three duck versions of you, him, and Charlie all matching clothes sitting next to each other, this man had a whole collection of duck versions of you and he was embarrassed when you found out but you called it cute

When extermination day hits he could see how tense you get and when you told him on what happened before he found you he couldn’t help but hate Adam more and so every Extermination day Lucifer would hold your hand and comfort you may even play a little music and it just grew more loving when you two started dating

You do help out with Lu Lu World as it’s one of Lucifer’s passion projects and no one could believe how upset you were when Mammon created Loo Loo land, you almost put your exterminator skills to use but Lucifer stopped you and let Mammon have his way cause he didn’t want to argue with Mammon so you just had to let it go

You both do play music together as when you were both angels all you did was play music, duets and you can’t tell me you, Lucifer, and Charlie didn’t sing together once

You remember seeing Lucifer’s wings for the first time and how amazed you were as you kept complementing him and that just made his face all red and what made you stop was when he commented o how your wings could have been more pretty then his, you just smile at him

Now here you two have more of a bodyguard/ secretary and famous person kind of relationship even though he may not need it he likes keeping you around and that just help made his feelings grow for you

[revelboo]

it probably didn't happen, but imagine the shrinking somehow reached the decepticons. I need the humans to react to the tiny cons because they of all the transformers act like they're scary and tough, but need a good hug.

You guys keep me amused 😂 Let’s just go with suspension of disbelief and say somehow Wheeljack also FUBARed the Cons

I have requests for TFA Shockwave, Sunstorm, Rung, TFA Ratchet, Hound, and Cyberverse Soundwave. I’m actually busy at work this week, though, researching and compiling data, so updates may be wonky unless I start typing up the next day’s posts the previous night

Mass Displacement Mayhem Scenarios Pt 3

Megatron

• Staggering and off balance as he’s forced to mass displace without warning and then realizes he went past his limits somehow. That he’s only about knee high on you. The shock of it freezing him in place, so he flinches when you grab him and drag him into you. And it’s wholly undignified the way you’re going on about his “widdle” cannon. Why are you talking like that? He’s wracking his processor trying to figure out how this happened, because he’s stuck and can’t mass shift back. Left tiny and vulnerable, though it’s hard to focus on defense when you’re cupping his face in your warm palms, apparently delighted. Venting because he’s much too old for this, he keeps an optic and his cannon aimed at the door as you pull him into your lap to fuss over him. Secretly enjoying the feel of you hugging him as undignified as it is, but please stop talking to him like he’s a sparkling.

Thundercracker

• Has absolutely no idea what just happened, but before he can even try to figure it out, you attack. Had known you were still unhappy about being stolen, but didn’t expect you to lash out- oh, never mind. You just want to pick him up. Little wings flicking fitfully when you press a kiss to his helm and play with his wings with gentle fingers. All while cooing at him. Knows he should be mortified, but he’s enjoying the attention. Fuss over him all you want.

Starscream

• Flies to perch out of reach the instant you made that awful noise and tried to grab him. Glowering as you try to coax him to you. Why are you crooning at him like that? It’s undignified and he’s more worried about how vulnerable you both are right now. No, he’s not coming down. He is absolutely not cute. Trying his best to ignore you and keep an optic on the door ready to attack, because he’s completely stressed out, wings flared and paranoia out of control.

Constructicons

• Scattered when you ran toward them. They have no idea what happened, but to avoid being caught, they have to transform to speed away and you’re laughing hysterically as you chase after them. Bonecrusher gives up first and transforms back. Unresisting as you grab him and sit, grinning over how cute he is. Eventually they all wander over once they realize you’re not attacking. Patiently letting you fuss over all of them, grumbling but secretly eating up the attention. Scavenger just outright climbing into your lap for a hug.

Soundwave

• Hoisting Soundwave up into your arms to save him from his overly excited cassettes, you’re as giddy as they are. Because somehow Soundwave mass displaced smaller than you’ve ever seen. And because you’re holding him, you’re now also being mobbed by cassettes wanting to hold tiny Soundwave. Feeling guilty about it as you cave to their pleas and sit crosslegged with him in your lap, hearing his tired venting as you and his cassettes fuss over how cute he is. Tipping his head back to stare at you. “Traitor,” he grumbles, that serious voice coming from such a tiny frame shattering your own composure as you hug him laughing.

Shockwave

• Antenna back as he gets carried around like a helpless sparkling. Asks you to put him down and you ignore him, and since he’s unwilling to hurt you to get free, he’s just tolerating it. Please stop kissing him on the head, you’re making his processor chaotic. Cute? Him? Illogical. Venting tiredly at you the whole time, but a part of him almost enjoying the attention and how gentle your hands are. That you’re not intimidated by him at this size.

Previous

[vrystalius]

Never giving up on Sanemi, even after pushing you away

He flinches, he yells, he can’t sleep and keeps trying to push you away, but you won’t give up on your husband that easily.

Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader

(Post-story, infinity castle arc spoiler warning! Traumatised-ish Sanemi)

You two haven’t slept in separate beds yet, but you might as well should. Ever since settling down in the outskirts of a peaceful village and starting a life without demons lurking, Sanemi has changed a lot. He isn’t the loving, cuddly and sometimes overprotective husband. He is flinching every time you come close and immediately pulls away when you try to touch him. His words drip of venom as he tells you to just leave him be, he’s not in the mood for lovely dovely things right now. But he really is anymore.

All your husband does is sit on the porch with his katana and stare into the woods. Watching. Checking. Paranoid demons may be lurking even after watching the demon king be beheaded and eradicated. His grip on the sheath of his katana was tight and if you tried to gently slip it out of his hand, Sanemi’d aggressively pull away and yell at you to just leave him alone, damn it!

You were incredibly worried about your husband and how obviously he is traumatised about everything that happened. You know he tends to suppress his emotions, especially during his hashira years. All this anger and fear that he bottled up is all overflowing now, affecting you.

You laid on your side of the bed, showing your back to him. Sanemi was having another nightmare, you could hear it. The sheets were shuffling beside you and his breaths came out in a short, ragged rhythm. You wanted to roll over and reach out, touch his shoulder and wake him up, pulling your husband into your arms, telling him it’s okay. But it might make him feel worse, you watched how he jumped everytime you touched him so innocently to pull him into a kiss or just a hug. Now that you were thinking about it, when was the last time you kissed him?

Then finally, Sanemi gasped sharply, his arm reaching out for something in the darkness, before tiredly falling back onto the mattress. Everything got silent, only yours and his breaths filling the quietness between you two. You slowly and carefully rolled over to not startle him. His eyes were unfocused and oh so tired. You wanted to brush some hair out of his face and caress his scalp like you used to, remembering the calming effect it had on him, but you didn’t.

“Sanemi, please.”

He didn’t blink, still staring at a non-existent point in the darkness above.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help. You’re hurting so much…”

Silent tears began to well up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away. Sanemi remained silent, rolling over and showing his back to you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you did the same thing, burying your face in the sheets in an attempt to muffle any sobs daring to exit your mouth. You thought he fell asleep when you didn’t hear him speak.

“I keep seeing him, my brother.”

Your husband mumbled. His voice was deep and raspy, but quiet. You listened, letting him talk.

“I keep thinking he’s there in the corner, or the guys with the black hairs in the village. I’m dreamin’ of him all the time.”

The sheets ruffled beside you and you sensed how Sanemi was facing you now. You didn’t turn around yet, wanting to let him vent.

“I see the six-eyed-freak, blood, fucking blood everywhere. The corridors, Himejima.. I see it all. Every night.”

You heard how his voice began to break slightly. That finally made you turn around, seeing your husband tearing up. You hesitantly reached out and cupped his cheek. Sanemi closed his eyes, carefully leaning into your touch. His lower lip was quivering and his brows furrowed together.

“I’m sorry I keep yellin’, I’m just fucking messed up. I couldn’t protect my fucking brother, couldn’t protect shit…”

Tears couldn’t stop running down his cheek while he was rapidly trying to wipe them away. You moved closer, using both of your hands to cradle his handsome face, wiping the salty tears with your thumb. Sanemi sobbed, holding onto your clothes desperately. He pulled you closer slowly snd wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You felt how his whole body was shaking.

“Shh, shhh… It’s okay, you’re going to be okay…Shhh..”

You tightly held him against you, your hand rubbing his back soothingly. He was still sobbing, maybe even louder now, wrapping his legs around you. You sighed quietly.

“We’re going to get through this, okay? You’ll be fine… It wasn’t your fault. You’ll be okay…”

Sanemi shook his head, clinging onto you for dear life.

“I’m sorry, I’m fucking messed up. You shouldn’t be with me, you need someone normal, a fucking healthy person. Not me, not me damn it…”

It was like he was apologising for being severely traumatised, as if it was his fault. Your tight embrace of him never wavered, giving him a little comfort. His tears stopped flowing, now being reduced to just sobbing and shaking. Your hand began working through his hair like you always used to do.

“No, I want to be with you. I choose to be with you, Sanemi. You’re my husband and I love you so so much, more than you can ever imagine.”

You planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

“We’ll get through his together. I’ll stay with you, we can do baby steps. One at a time.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing his head against your chest. Sanemi closely nuzzled against your warm skin, listening to your heartbeat. His hands were still having a death grip on your pyjamas. He nodded quietly.

“Okay… Okay.”

“I love you, Sanemi. I always will.”

Your husband nodded slowly, finally regulating his breathing, his grip loosening.

“Me too. I love you.”

🎃

Fictorber prompt: “I will never give you up.”

Oh jeez I’m so tired. I debated writing today but managed to do it, but now off to bed I go! I’m completely spent for no reason XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

My event Masterlist 🎃

[galactic-magick]

Be Proud: Viktor x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Viktor's newfound fame as the co-founder of Hextech has taken its toll on your insecurities.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions and allusions to body dysmorphia/eating disorders

Author's Note: I starting writing this to play with the idea of how founding Hextech probably gave Jayce and Viktor celebrity status in a way and how that would affect them and people involved with them. It ended up turning into a vent fic about my body image issues as well, to the point I almost didn’t post because it got so personal. But I figured there’s people out there who relate and might find solace in reading this as I did writing it.

-

-

-

You’re so proud of him. Everything he’s accomplished, everyone he’s helped. He’s living his dream, creating the future, and he’s being listened to and valued by topsiders. This is all you’ve ever wanted for him, and you would never think of standing in his way.

Which is precisely why you’ve never told him how insecure it all makes you feel.

Before Viktor got involved with Hextech, life was so much more predictable. You both could live your days together in peace, never being in the spotlight and rarely interacting with the highest of powers in Piltover. Life was hard, sure, but nothing you couldn’t manage without some tasteful spite and stubbornness. Viktor always knew his background would be a stumbling block for him up here, and you really weren’t much farther ahead, being from a title-less family with half your relatives from the Undercity.

But you’re not used to being around such glamour and poise. As Viktor becomes more involved with the Council and the wealthier areas of Piltover, making Hextech gadgets per their requests and being invited to fancy events, you’re left mourning simpler times. You’ll never get used to people coming up to you on the street while you bring your husband some lunch, or people staring at you during conferences when you’re just there to support him. Everyday citizens want to know and analyze everything about you, simply because you’re married to Piltover’s finest scientist.

You don’t like to bother Viktor with how it’s affected you, especially since he’s so good at handling it all. He’s always been so proud of who he is—where he came from—because he’s had to be. He’s not phased by the new fame as the co-founder of Hextech, and he easily shrugs off any comments people make about his past or his looks. To him, celebrity status is just a slight annoyance that occasionally distracts him from doing his work in the labs. But for you, it’s brought back every insecurity you’ve ever had about yourself.

You’ve stopped joining him as much at dinners and banquets because you fear they’ll judge how you look in a dress. You’ve stopped chiming in to interviews so you don’t say something stupid and embarrass him. You’ve stopped visiting him so much while he’s working so people won’t talk to or see you on the street.

You’ve started picking yourself apart in the mirror again, fussing every morning until you might cry. You compare yourself to the beautiful specimens that surround you, perfect in face, body, and manners. You start wondering if people judge how you speak or how much you eat. You wonder if people gossip about your family origins or your marriage. You wonder if you really, really, tried—if you could look like them. If you could be like them.

Viktor has started to stay back from some events with you lately, claiming Jayce is better at being the face of Hextech anyway. But tonight marks the five year anniversary of the company, and Councilor Medarda insisted there be a grand celebration.

The feast and dance will be held in her personal mansion, with the rest of the council and all the investors invited, as well as several reporters and journalists. Jayce will give an update address on what they’ve been working on, and what they hope to achieve by the bicentennial Progress Day.

This is something you can’t get out of and you know it. You drive yourself crazy trying on every dress in your closet, hoping to find something suitable for the affair. Half of them don’t even fit, which sends you into a further spiral, and the ones that do still don’t look good enough in your reflection.

Now the floor is covered in failed attempts at getting dressed, negative thoughts taking over your mind. Thoughts you know aren’t true, but you can’t stop thinking them.

He’ll be embarrassed to be seen with me.

I’m not good enough to be here.

I should eat less.

If I tried harder I could look like her.

I should check how much I weigh again. What happened to that damn scale?

They only invited me because they have to.

They probably talk about me—

You’re so deep in your head that you jump when you see Viktor leaning against the door frame, eyes full of love and concern.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You look down at yourself, wearing the last dress you had in your closet. It fits perfectly, but that’s part of the problem.

Viktor moves towards you as tears well in your eyes. He wipes them away with his thumbs, smearing some of the makeup you put on earlier.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“No.” you reply, avoiding his gaze.

“No?” he chuckles. “Why not?”

“It’s so stupid,” you sigh. “I thought I recovered from this. I should be able to handle this.”

“Handle what?”

“All this publicity shit!” you finally look at him. “I hate being watched and talked about and judged for what I say and look like all the time. I hate being asked about personal things and nearly passing out because I’m scared to eat in front of people. I hate all these superficial gatherings that are probably just for show-”

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he cuts you off, dropping his crutch to the floor and wrapping his arms around you. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been feeling this way? Why didn’t you tell me it was getting bad again?”

You sniffle, “I...I didn’t want to bother you with something that doesn’t seem to bother you. You’re so good at being confident no matter what people say about you.”

“You think it doesn’t bother me?” he questions. “You think it doesn’t hurt me every time I overhear insults about me or my home, let alone when they say it to my face? You think I don’t notice that most of these people wouldn’t blink an eye if I died if it wasn’t for what I can offer them?”

He squeezes you tighter before slightly pulling away to look at your face, “I’m just better at hiding what it does to me, darling. Having a drive to prove myself is not the same as confidence. Now,” he kisses your forehead, “Tell me why you’ve been in here for over an hour and still aren’t ready, hm?”

“Well,” you gesture to the piles on the floor. “Those ones don’t fit. I must’ve gained more weight but I don’t really know for sure because I can’t find the scale. And those ones I just don’t like. And this one does fit, but it’s tight and I’ve never worn something form-fitted to an event before. I don’t want to deal with comments about my stomach sticking out or my arms looking puffy or whether I’m proportioned to their tastes.”

“You truly believe they’ll say those things?”

“I don’t know what they’ll say. That’s what’s so scary.”

The tears return, falling slowly down your cheeks.

“Darling,” Viktor says softly. “No one will ever think or say anything as horrible as what you think and say about yourself. I promise you that.”

You nod, allowing him to soothe you, “I know.”

“I need you to tell me when these thoughts are getting bad. Do you understand? I never want you to go so long feeling this way ever again,” he tilts your chin. “Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, if you really don’t want to go, I’ll make up an excuse to get us out of it. But…” he slides his hands down your curves, “...it would be quite a shame if I didn’t get to see you wearing this all night.”

“You actually think it looks good?”

“Of course,” his eyes travel down your figure. “You always look perfect to me.”

“But-”

“No buts. Listen to me,” he faces you towards the mirror. “This body has gotten you through so much. I want you to be proud. Most of these people have never known a day of true hardship, but not you. You’re strong and you’re soft and you’re beautiful, and you’re the only one I’ll ever desire.”

You smile, knowing he means every word. You try to see what he sees, remembering every time he’s showered you with praise. You know he’s never once agreed with any of the horrible things you think about yourself. You know he loves everything about you, including how your body compliments his smaller, angular one. He’s never made you feel bad about anything, so why is it still so hard to believe him?

“Thank you, Viktor,” you say, turning to kiss his cheek. “I’ll try to be proud.”

“Good,” he nods. “Now, no more worrying about the scale or falling into old habits, alright? I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll try,” you laugh a bit. “You know what happened to it, though, don’t you?”

“Of course. I threw it out months ago,” he smirks. “You think I didn’t notice you checking it every single day?”

“You’re too good to me,” you bend down to pick his crutch up off the floor and hand it to him. “Let me just fix my makeup and we can go.”

“No more crying it off, alright?” he chuckles.

-

Jayce and Mel are waiting for you, welcoming you both to the celebrations. You can already feel the eyes and cameras on you, but you hold your head high, squeezing Viktor’s hand extra tight.

It’s been awhile since you’ve attended an event, but they always seem to go the same. Investors and council members come up to chat, mostly directing their questions towards Jayce. Sometimes they act as if Viktor isn’t even there, which boils your blood to the point you’ve said something on multiple occasions. Viktor has told you many times that he doesn’t mind being behind the scenes, and that Jayce is better at talking anyway, but you can never fully let it go. If people are going to gossip about him and your lives but not actually talk to him, you’ll gladly take the liberty of giving people a piece of your mind. You’d rather focus on lifting him up than dwell on your own self-consciousness, anyway.

One thing is different this time though—being that Viktor is a lot more handsy tonight than usual. He’s not normally one for public displays of affection, sticking to hand-holding and a few reassuring touches here and there. But tonight he can’t keep his hands off you.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, whether it be listening to the conversations, answering questions, or participating in the feast and drinks. He always has a hand on your waist or your thigh, gliding to your hips and stomach every so often. It seems mindless, as if he does this every time you’re out together, but you know he’s putting in a special effort to make you feel good.

And damn is it working.

You feel more at peace than you ever have since entering the public eye, proud of who you are and who you’re with. Who cares if people are whispering about their opinions on the Zaunite inventor? Who cares if there’s pictures of you in tomorrow’s tabloids with unflattering angles? Maybe all that matters is you’re having fun with your husband, and he’s making you feel oh so beautiful.

The night goes on for hours, attendees fizzling out until there’s only a handful left. You convince Viktor to dance with you before you leave, leaning against you and swaying simply. You wrap your arms around his neck, wiggling your fingers into his hair. He looks at you with such admiration, such devotion.

How could you ever doubt yourself under the gaze of those eyes?

“You lovebugs ready to head out?” Jayce approaches you both. “Viktor and I have a meeting with Heimerdinger in the morning.”

“Ah, yes, we do,” he briefly looks away from you. “But...perhaps we could push it until the afternoon?”

Jayce rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you guys are in for a long night. Have fun.”

He waves and walks away, and you burst out laughing.

“Is it really that obvious?” Viktor jokes, returning his full attention to you.

“Viktor, darling, you’ve been all over me since we got here. I’d say the entire city knows how bad you want me tonight.”

“Maybe I want them to know,” he grins, sliding a hand up your dress and squeezing your thigh.

“Viktor!” you gasp, playfully slapping his hand away.

“Alright, I suppose we can go home first,” he pivots around, moving towards the door and extending his arm to you, “Shall we?”

You nod, quickly returning to his side.

Jayce was right, it’s going to be a long, lovely night.

[yamumsyadadd]

Accident

Part of the Mariquita universe.

talk of blood, first period etc.

From the very beginning Jenni and Alexia had taught you important phone numbers. Theirs, Eli’s, the clubs and emergency services. They reiterated time and time again that the emergency services was only for emergencies so when you went to the bathroom and found blood, you knew it was an emergency. 

Mami and Olga had both been busy, incredibly so. Olga had been spending more time in Madrid, leaving you and Mami alone. Mama was still in Mexico but would be coming in a few weeks since international break was about to start. 

Your body was growing, changing, right before your eyes. You were tall and skinny, taller than Olga and Alba but shorter than Mami and Mama. And so skinny, no matter how much you were fed, you remained skinny. Of course, at the age of 12, things were changing inside of you. 

Things were strange in the lead up to the incident. All week had been hard, you were more tired, more hungry, more emotional. You’d put it down to school starting again and Mami and Olga being busy. 

The day went as usual, Alexia dropped you at school, afterwards you went to the library for an hour before football training then Olga picked you up. Alexia wouldn’t be home until late due to some media and a Physio appointment so it was just the both of you. 

Things between you and Olga were weird. On one hand you liked her, she was funny and cool, but on the other hand you liked your Mama more. There was a part of you that wished your Mami and mama would get back together, you’d be a family again. You’d never ever say that to either alexia or Jenni because it would cause a fight and then Olga would get her feelings hurt and that’s the last thing you wanted. 

The night carried on as usual. Olga made dinner while you showered and did homework, then ate together. She talked about her work, how Manuela’s was going well and you talked about school and football, leaving out the part where you think you have a crush. 

After a while of sitting on the couch, the heaviness and wetness of your underpants became too much. You went straight to the bathroom, worried you’d somehow wet yourself but that wasn’t the sight you were met with. 

Oh no, it was much worse. It was blood, and a lot of it. Blood from others never made you feel queasy but blood from yourself filled your body with anxiety. 

You were panicking. Alexia wasn’t home, it was only 8.07pm. She would be home until at least 8.30. Olga was busy with her work stuff. She had told you to come into the office if you needed anything but due to seeing the blood you felt unsteady on your feet. 

The panic started to rise and the only thing you could think about was how you were going to die in this bathroom with your mamis girlfriend in the other room, completely oblivious to your lifeless body, rotting away. 

With shaking hands you called the one person you hoped would tell you everything was fine: Tia Alba. Expect she didn’t answer any of the fifteen phone calls and texts you left her. There only one solution left. 

“112, ambulance, fire or police?” 

“Um, ambulance please.” 

“Okay can you tell me your location? And the nature of this emergency.”

“Plaça Rosa del Vents, 1, floor 23 apartment 236, 08039 Barcelona, Spain. I am bleeding, a lot. There’s a lot of blood and I don’t feel good.” 

“I’m dispatching an ambulance as we speak. What’s your name sweetheart?” 

“Y/n.” By this point you were on the floor, in a ball. Unsure of what to do further. 

“Okay y/n. How old are you? Did someone hurt you?”

“I’m 12. No no one hurt me. I’m just bleeding and I can’t get it to stop. I’m scared.” 

“Just hang there okay y/n? The ambulance is a few minutes out and you can stay on the line with me until then. Did you hurt yourself?”

“I don’t think so? I don’t know.” A sob ripped through your body, panic was well and truly ripping through you. “I just want my mums.” You cried. 

“Where are they? I can get my colleague to call them.” 

“Mama is in Mexico, she lives there and Mami is at work. She won’t be home for a bit longer.” You recited her phone number to the lady but just as you finished you heard the pounding on the door, “I think, I think the ambulance is here.” 

“Can you walk to them? To let them in?” 

“I’ll try.” Slowly you got up, the soreness from laying on the bathroom floor was sinking in but you pushed through. 

“MARI! Mariquita where are you!” Olga’s panicked voice sounded through the apartment. 

“I’m coming.” Your voice was as weak as you felt, when you finally looked up you saw a very distressed Olga and two paramedics. 

“What’s wrong! They said you called them?”

“Bleeding. Lots.” Seeing Olga panic only made you panic even more. 

“Let’s have a seat so we can check you out.” One of the paramedics spoke up. You walked over to the dining chair, not wanting to get blood on the couch. 

“Can you explain to us where you’re bleeding from?” 

You shook your head, embarrassed and unable to explain. 

“Mari, you need to tell them so they can help. Please?” Olga pleaded. “Do you want me to leave? I can go into the other room?” 

“No please don’t. Please don’t leave me.” You broke down sobbing again. Olga pulled you into her, her hand rubbing up and down your back trying to calm you. 

“I don’t know where. At training I felt sick and when I went to the toilet there was a bit of blood. I thought it would pass or maybe I got kicked but it only got worse and it won’t stop. I tried toilet paper but it’s just uncomfortable and and-“

“Where is the blood?” You looked down in embarrassment. “Your underwear?” You nodded your head. Olga and the two paramedics seemingly having a conversation just with their eyes. 

“what! What is it? Oh my god I’m going to die aren’t I? I knew it. I’m going to die.” You got up and started pacing. 

“No, you aren’t going to die. Do you know what your period is?” 

“Yes. We learnt about it at school.” 

“Most girls get it between the ages of 10 and 12. You’re 12.” The paramedic trailed off. Your head shot up. 

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed. I think this is a conversation that you two need to have. However, if you feel the need to call again, call this number.” The paramedic handed a card over to Olga and then they left. 

Olga had left her phone in her office and yours was discarded somewhere so you both missed the many calls that a panicked Alexia was placing. 

When she finally burst through the apartment door , it was quiet. That stressed her out even more. 

“Mariquita? Olga?” Alexia’s voice thundered through the apartment. 

When Olga appeared with a slipper in hand alexia was very confused.

“Where’s Mari? What happened, ow, ow! Stop! why are you hitting me!” 

“She’s 12 years old alexia! 12!” 

“I know how old she is! That doesn’t explain anything!” Alexia put her hands up in surrender, sporting her very well known frown. 

“She got her period today and freaked out. She thought she was dying. DYING! She called a fucking ambulance. You should’ve talked to her!” Olga hit her again just for good measure. 

“Where is she? She must’ve been so scared.” 

“She was scared. Too scared to come to me, to call you, so she called an ambulance. A fucking ambulance.”

“Did they take her?” 

“No. She’s in the shower. I got some pads from our bathroom and gave her a crash course on how to use them but you NEED to have a conversation with her Ale.”

“We both do.” Olga gave alexia a perplexed look, “you’re apart of her life too. You should be there.” 

“No. She didn’t want me to help originally, that’s how we got into this mess. I was a few metres away and instead she called an ambulance Ale.” It was an internal battle for Olga. Some days she thought you two were making progress and then the next day, something like this happens. 

“She didn’t call me either amor. I promise she was just scared.” Alexia pulled Olga into her chest, kissing the top of her head. 

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, for a second time that evening, Alexia was home. Sitting on the couch, waiting. 

“Hi Bebé. Come sit.” Slowly you made your way over, sitting between the two women. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No!” Both women said at the same time, “never mad bebé. But I was scared. I imagine that was how you felt too? And Olga?” 

“I’m sorry.” It was directed mainly to Olga.

“You have nothing to apologise for Mari.” 

“You were in your office and I could’ve come to you. I wasn’t thinking because I was scared.” 

“You thought it was an emergency yes?” You nodded your head, “then you did the right thing. It was scary for me, and you and Ale but only because none of us knew what was going on.” 

After a few extra hugs and reassurances they both throughly explained what was happening to your ever changing body. It was a lot of information for you to digest and when you finally went to bed that night, you felt something change within you 

Alexia to Jenni:

Mari got her period for the first time tonight. She was scared and called an ambulance, maybe give her a ring in the morning if you have time. 

Jenni to Alexia:

Oh our little baby is growing up. Give her extra kisses and chocolate for me. 

[cherryobx]

Prom season

request: here

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: you tell your best friend Rafe no one's asked you to prom and he insists on taking you (because he's down bad)

warnings: language, insecurities about appearance and behavior, lovesick Rafe, angsty, oc side character

wc: 2.4k

“I seriously don’t know who to go with!” Emma groans, shoving a couple of fries in her mouth. “Like 4 people have asked me already and I don’t know how I’m supposed to choose.”

She’s been venting the whole lunch break about her prom struggles. She has 4 people to choose from and it’s her biggest dilemma to date. It’s all she’s been talking about the last couple of weeks. You wouldn’t mind it if it wasn’t for how she keeps rubbing it in your face that she’s got so many options while you haven’t got a single one. No one’s asked you. For a while you kept hoping that someone was going to ask. Maybe that guy in biology who keeps asking for your notes or that dude in your English class who you sometimes study in the library with. Or even your best friend, Rafe. But no one’s asked yet and now you’ve lost all hope. Prom’s soon, everyone who plans on going already has a date.

It’s always been like this. For as long as you can remember, all the guys have gone for your friends. Sometimes they make conversation with you first before asking for your friend’s number or if they’re single. Over the years it has affected your confidence and mental health more than you’d like to admit. Was it the way you looked? Were you awkward? Were you too tall or too short? You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why no one ever approached you like they approached your friends. You weren’t in any way lesser than them. So what was it?

You absentmindedly push your lunch around the plate with your fork, not really focusing on her constant chatter.

While Emma’s talking your ear off about the struggle of choosing a date, you’ve also got a dilemma brewing in your head. There’s no way you’re gonna go alone. That would be embarrassing, you think. That means you’re going to have to sit out prom entirely. But that also feels wrong. Prom is such a staple in every young person’s school experience and you know for certain that you’d feel shitty for missing out. 

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks as you hop into his car after school and throw your backpack in the backseat before buckling in. He has always been good at reading you, ever since you two became friends, best friends. He just knew by the way your shoulders were slumped and how you walked to his car that something had happened.

“Nothing.” You angle your knees towards the car door and stare out the window, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Talk to me,” he presses but you won’t budge.

“Just drive.”

He looks at you with a puzzled expression for a second before shaking his head, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the school parking lot.

He will find out what’s bothering you.

Rafe pulls up to your driveway. As soon as his car rolls to a stop, you’ve unbuckled yourself and grabbed your backpack. You exit the car swiftly and walk to the house without waiting for him.

This is bad, he thinks. Something is very wrong because you’re almost never this cold to him. He turns the ignition off, trying to figure out if he’s done something to upset you. If he did, he can’t recall it.

“Did I do something?” he barges into your room right after you, having caught up to you in the hallway. The door slams shut after him, the bang of it echoing through the house.

“What?” you turn to him after throwing your backpack on the ground next to the desk.

“You’re clearly mad at me and frankly I can’t figure out what I have done to deserve this treatment.”

“Not everything is about you, Rafe. I’m not mad at you but I’d like for you to go home.”

He shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around this. “So you are mad at me?”

“I just said I’m not! I just wanna be alone right now,” you groan in frustration and pinch the bridge of your nose. You didn’t mean to unleash all these pent up emotions on him and if he had left after dropping you off like planned, you wouldn’t have to have this conversation with him.

“You are! Clearly something is wrong and you refuse to talk about it. I’m not gonna leave things like this and just go home. That’s bullshit. You know me better than this.”

And then you snap. All of the negative emotions from the past couple of weeks take you over. “I still haven’t been asked to prom. And that makes me feel like shit, like a complete loser. Is that what you wanna hear?”

Rafe’s lips are sealed shut and he doesn’t know how to react.

“I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for weeks because no one seems to want anything to do with me. What is so wrong with me that absolutely no one wants to go to this stupid fucking prom with me? Emma got asked four times. Four fucking times! And I haven’t still gotten asked a single time. Not once! That was all I wanted. I wanted one person to ask me. Just one! And no one did. All of my friends have found their dates. I even bought the dress and I was so excited to wear it and now I won’t have the chance because no one thinks I’m worthy enough. Am I that invisible?”

Your emotions are all over the place and that tipped you over, you burst into tears. They’re streaming down your cheeks. It feels embarrassing to be crying in front of him. You’ve done it before, of course, but this feels different.

“Hey.” His voice is soft as he takes a step closer. He hesitates just for a second before wrapping his arms around you. One of his hands snakes around your waist and the other cradles the back of your head. He holds you against him as you sob into his t-shirt, fisting the fabric in your hands. But he doesn’t mind that one bit.

“You are not the problem. Not one bit. And absolutely nothing is wrong with you. It’s not your fault that everyone else is an idiot. They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

“You’re just saying that,” you sniffle, voice weak and quiet, barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m saying it because it’s true.” You still don’t believe him. He’s your best friend. He’s supposed to say stuff like that.

A beat of silence passes before you speak up again. “No one ever chooses me. And it hurts, you know. Everyone always goes for my friends, sometimes using me in the process to get to them. It makes me feel like shit, Rafe. I feel so unwanted. And this prom thing is just making this feeling grow worse and I hate it. I don’t wanna feel like the last choice anymore. I’m tired.”

Rafe feels sorry for how you’ve been treated. And angry. How is it possible that you, the most wonderful, beautiful, and funny person he knows, has been enduring this and hurting in silence? Who has dared to make you feel like you’re not enough? How is it possible that you’ve never felt like anyone's first choice? You’re his first choice. You’re enough for him. He’d choose you every day if you’d let him. He wants to kill everyone who has ever made you feel bad about yourself. You haven’t deserved this in the slightest.

He’s not sure what he should do. He doesn’t know if he should confess how he’s been feeling for the past couple of years to show you that there is someone who’d put you first. 

“I’ll take you to prom.”

You pull back a bit at his words, staring at him dumbfounded with your red puffy eyes. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? I’ll take you.” His fingers gently run through your hair. You don’t think he even acknowledges doing it.

“No.” You take a step back, out of his warm and comforting arms. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

Now it’s his turn to be dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected that to come out of your mouth. “What do you mean ‘no?’”

“I don’t want your pity, Rafe. I’m not letting you take me to prom just because you feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you! I feel sorry for others because they can’t see what’s right in front of them. I want to take you to prom. I want you to get to wear that dress. I want you to have fun. I want you to not regret going years later. I want to make you happy. I would’ve asked you in a heartbeat if I had known that no one had taken up the opportunity to ask you. I was so sure you already had a date. I would’ve pulled out all the stops and given you the most embarrassing promposal ever.”

You feel your heart tighten in your chest at his words. His voice is pleading and he’s so desperate for you to hear what he’s actually saying.

“Why are you saying all that? I’m not some charity case. I’m not some problem for you to fix. No one asked me to prom, no one chose me, no one has ever asked me out, but that’s my burden to deal with.”

He furrows his brows. “That’s not what this is! I’m not trying to fix you or invite you to prom out of pity. I fucking love you! Why can’t you see that? I want to take you to prom because you want to go and I would do anything to make you happy.”

Your mind short circuits as your mouth hangs open as you just stand there. “You…love me?”

“Of course I fucking love you,” he states, like it’s obvious. 

Rafe loves you. And you had no idea. You try to think back to all the moments when he’s gone above and beyond for you. All the moments you felt like he was trying something, all the gifts, all the compliments and the sleeping over almost every other night. Was that just him trying to show you he cared more than he let on? That he cared about you more than a best friend should?

“Me? Why?” You can’t believe it. This must be a dream because what the fuck.

“Why? Because I just do. I think you’re the most beautiful, amazing and caring person in the whole world and it pains me that you don’t see that. I love you because you’re always yourself around me. You’ve wormed yourself into my heart and my head and no matter how much or what I try I can’t get you out. You occupy my every waking thought and you won’t even leave me alone at night in my dreams. I think about you constantly and I feel almost sick when I’m not next to you. You are and have been my first choice for so long. I’d choose you in a room full of my family and closest friends without a second thought. I care about you more than anyone else in my life. And if I lose you after this confession I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. I don’t know if I can let you go. I don’t want to let you go. I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same and despise me now. I’ll find it in my heart to accept that. But I won’t stop loving you. I refuse to do that. I don’t think I’m capable of not loving you.”

A tear falls from your eye and rolls down your cheek. Rafe reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb.

“Do you mean all that? You’re not fucking with me?” Rafe hears the insecurities speaking for you.

“I’d never, and I mean never, fuck with you about this. This is real, this is what I feel.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” he confirms with a nod.

You take a step closer to him and hesitantly wrap your arms around his torso, placing your head against his chest so you’d hear his heartbeat and you feel it grounding you. You’re speechless and he can tell so he just holds you for a while. He did just drop a life-changing bomb on you.

“I love you too, you know.” Your voice is barely a whisper but it’s enough for him to hear. “I just never thought you’d feel the same.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and then keeps his lips there. He inhales the familiar scent that is just so uniquely yours and he can’t seem to get enough of it.

“Well, I do. Always will.”

You raise your head from his chest and look up at him. “You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can. I’ve known for years that I will always love you, doesn’t matter if we’re friends or together. My feelings for you will never change.”

One of his hands leaves your body and he extends his pinky towards you. It makes you laugh. Pinky promises have been your thing since forever. It’s childish but that’s how you always knew he meant what he said, that he intended to stay true to his word.

You wrap your pinky around his in a silent promise and Rafe doesn’t hesitate to lean down and press his lips against yours. Your pinkies are intertwined as you kiss him in your bedroom. A concept so wild you think you might pass out. You’re kissing Rafe Cameron. Rafe fucking Cameron. Your best friend. Yet it feels so right.

After a while he pulls away and his forehead rests against yours as you catch your breath. Your heart is racing with adrenaline and happiness. This is so surreal.

“So… prom?” he asks.

“I don’t care about that anymore.”

“Too bad, we’re going.”

And he stays true to his word. He picks you up at the agreed time. He makes sure you know that you’re absolutely gorgeous and that dress suits you so well. He opens doors for you and dances with you all night. He’s glued to your side the whole time and makes sure that this is the best goddamn prom in the history of proms. For you. He’d do anything for you.

[enrichment-time-in-my-enclosure]

18+ MDNI!!!!

NSFW under the cut

Soft Sex with Dabi

Dabi is not the most… open with his emotions.

He loves you, he knows it and so do you. He shows it in his own way.

He loves feeling like your protector, swears he’d kill anyone who would even dare to look at you wrong. He’s proven it before too, having burnt multiple guys who have tried hitting on you to ash.

He loves to show you off, having you sat comfortably in his lap during League meetings (much to Shigarakis displeasure) and making sure you’re securely in his arms when the league is lounging in the bar. They all need to know you’re his.

Most of all, he loves fucking you into his bed so hard that your makeup stays on his pillow and you can barely walk for days. That’s how he expresses his love the most. He’s rough and unforgiving, leaving marks and handprints on your body and bruising your cervix with every thrust.

Don’t get it twisted, you love when he does that too. You love him in all ways, but your expression tends to be much softer.

You care for the man who never got the attention he deserved and so desperately craved. In quiet moments you run your fingers through his box-dyed hair and massage his scalp until he eventually falls asleep against your chest, his relaxed expression almost giving him an innocent boyish look despite all his hardships.

You make sure he eats after missions, making him food so he can come home and relax, not having to think about his next meal.

You let him talk to you for hours about his life before he was “Dabi.” You’re the only one he wants to tell about it. He vents about his family, how they wronged him, how much he actually misses his mother.

You love him purely, in the softest way you possibly can, because you know he needs it.

So one night, when Dabi starts to slide his hands up your thighs and under your skirt in the middle of the bar, and the two of you get to making out on his bed, you make a proposition to him:

“Can I take care of you tonight, love?”

He lets out a little scoff at your statement before realizing that you’re serious. He’s not used to relinquishing control, and he’s definitely not accustomed to doing anything gentle.

“Babe, you know how I am. I’m gonna get restless the second you start to tease and you’ll end up pinned-“

“Just let me baby, I wanna try something…”

His eyes widen at your insistence. Never have you been so persistent at getting what you want in bed before. Every time before now had consisted of you giving yourself to him completely, letting him make a mess of you and claim you as his own.

“Jus��� wanna show you how much I love you, Dabi…”

He can’t say no to you. Not when you’re pleading this way. Looking down at him so sweetly from your place on his lap. Professing your love for him.

“Sure, doll, go ahead. But if I decide it’s not my style you’re getting flipped straight onto your stomach.”

You giggle at his “threat” and he thinks it’s the most angelic sound he’s ever heard.

Slowly but surely you begin to kiss down the scars on his neck, making your way to his collarbone and the bit of chest that his low cut shirt exposed.

You slide your hands under his shirt to feel his marred chest. Soft skin meeting rough scars with only a haphazardly placed row of staples patch it together.

A soft gasp leaves his lips as you grind softly down on his painfully hard bulge.

“You’re killin’ me doll face. Can’t just tease like this…”

“You’re really pretty, Touya.”

He stops in his tracks and stares into your eyes at the mention of that name. You’ve only called him that a few times before, never in bed, only ever when he was having one of his rare vulnerable moments.

You wanted to see him. All of him. Raw and unmasked and at your mercy. Not that you wanted to take advantage of him, no, quite the opposite.

You slowly lift his shirt above his head and push on his chest until his back meets the admittedly worn out mattress.

He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that could ever save him. Like you could forgive every sin he’s ever committed.

You kiss down his chest until you reach the button of his jeans. Instead of unbuttoning it and touching him where he needs you most, you reach to interlace your fingers with his.

He pauses before locking his digits in yours, reciprocating the incredibly soft action.

This isn’t his style. Not at all. Something in him aches at the gentleness. It almost feels like guilt.

He can’t seem to get a word out.

“Is this okay Touya?”

“Mmhm- keep goin doll…”

If he spoke just a word more he might have choked on it. You remove your dominant hand from his, still holding the other, and skillfully unbutton his jeans with one hand. Reluctantly he releases your other hand so you can pull his pants and boxers down.

“I’m not gonna suck you off, not just yet. Wanna be close to you love. Need to feel you inside of me…”

All he can do is nod as you straddle his hips and line him up with your entrance. As you slowly sink down onto him, you guide his hands to your waist.

“Hold onto me, grab me, squeeze me, whatever you want baby, just let me take care of you right now.”

For the first time in his relationship with you he feels like he has no clue what to do.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

He’s felt clueless about how to be a good boyfriend before. He never thought he could ever make someone happy, never thought he could be enough for someone to call him their love, their everything.

He felt clueless the first time you kissed him, before he even asked you to be his girl. It had never felt like that before. You had poured every ounce of care and compassion you had for him into that kiss and he could feel it all. The only thing he knew after that was that you had to be his. One way or another.

But he has never felt clueless when it came to you wrapped around him, taking him so sweetly. Not until now. Now he had no control, and that left him without any knowledge of what to do.

You lean down to kiss his forehead as you reach the base of his aching cock.

“You feel so good baby, always feel so good.”

Your breathing is heavy now and he can tell you’re losing your composure. A small smirk appears on his face as he guides his hands up your torso to softly squeeze your breasts.

“Can ya move now doll? Please?”

Never has Dabi begged. He swore off begging that day at Sekoto peak.

But he’d do anything for you.

You begin to slowly ride him, laying your chest against his while he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. Your speed increases as he kisses the top of your head.

“Fuck baby. Just like that doll. Please don’t stop… feels so good… I-“

“You’re so— ngh- fucking perfect Touya. Amazing. I love you so much.”

He can’t help but let a tear slip from his eye at your words. Given the context it shouldn’t be making him feel so sensitive.

But he is loved. You love him. Someone out there loves him. And that someone is giving every part of themself to him in this moment.

And consuming every part of him in the process.

“Fuck… y/n…I love you too.”

With that you clench around him, reaching your high and spurring on his release as well. You collapse against his chest to catch your breath.

You feel something wet fall onto your head.

“M’ sorry doll, don’t mean to get all fuckin’ soft on you n’ shit-“

“Don’t apologize. I love you. I mean it. Just wanted you to feel it.”

Dabi is crying, something you’ve never seen him do before, yet he smiles softly down at you.

“I dunno what I did to deserve ya doll.”

“You don’t have to do anything. You’re perfect how you are.”

You’re tearing up now too. He chuckles softly, wiping your tears with his thumb.

“Well shit. Now I’ve made you cry too. We should get cleaned up hm?”

You nod at his suggestion and kiss his wet cheeks.

“Wanna stay here for just a moment longer. Let me love on my man.”

His hand runs through your sweaty hair.

“I really do love you doll.”

“I love you too, but you already know that.”

[sectumsempraaa]

Being coworkers w/ the Slytherin boys (headcanons)

feat. Draco, Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo

this one’s for the working folks bc you KNOW these guys would make work so much more fun!! :)

Draco:

- extremely punctual

- judges you for how you write emails

- picks you up in his car before your shift every day

- has a kettle plugged in AT his desk for maximum tea drinking

- will often leave you a cup on your desk too without you asking for it

- writes 95% of paperwork by hand

- kisses ass to your boss but vents to you later about how much he hates them

- overdresses even on casual fridays

- takes his lunch break with you every day and has your meals delivered (doesnt even ask what you want, he’s just good at this)

- gets turned on when you sit on his desk and look down at him

Mattheo:

- consistently 5-10 minutes late but everyone’s just kinda used to it

- takes mass transportation bc he keeps failing his drivers test

- stops to get you both coffee before work (thats why he’s late!!)

- will respond to emails you’re too scared to answer

- similarly will pick up the phone when you don’t want to

- office pranks galore with this guy

- calls you from his desk (it’s next to yours) to ask you to meet him somewhere so y’all can makeout

- also calls you when he sees someone he KNOWS you hate trying to talk to you at your desk to get you out of it

- post-shift treat several times a week

- most likely to pleasure you from under your desk 🤭

Theo:

- gets distracted easily and falls behind on work

- is so quiet no one really even knows he’s there

- bribes the office manager into making you his secret santa

- has a private email thread between the two of you that goes on and on all day with complete nonsense and memes

- visits your cubicle and sits there for like an hour at a time

- holds your hand under the table during meetings

- “ugh can we go home now” “theo we haven’t even clocked in yet”

- hacks the system to change the schedule around so you always have the same shifts

- cooks your lunches at home and brings them to work for you

- 100% takes naps under his desk when you’re out sick and he’s alone/bored

Blaise:

- gets along with everyone

- often leads meetings and presentations bc everyone trusts him

- winks at you from across the office several times a day

- has everything in his desk from stain remover to first aid kit to microwaveable ramen

- checks each paycheck (and yours) to make sure y’all get paid RIGHT

- hugs you from behind your chair like 1000 times a day (ft. neck kisses)

- flies paper cranes into your cubicle with cheesey pick up lines

- knows how to get your fav snacks from the vending machine without paying

- will randomly do some of your tasks bc he’s so ahead on his

- LOVES a business trip and gets you two ALL the travel upgrades

Lorenzo:

- does not give a fuck about getting anything done

- but somehow is pretty much always caught up/in good standing

- does the bare minimum but makes up for it by being extremely charming

- faxes you (yes, faxes) memes when he is extra bored

- steals people’s things off their desk if he doesn’t like them

- never abides by the dress code

- lies to your boss to get you out of meetings and leave work early

- convinces you to call out with him so you can spend the day together

- has a keycard that opens every door in the building, don’t ask how he got it

- switches nametags/IDs with you and thinks its the funniest thing in the world

- headphones in 24/7

ALL of them love to say “if you ever leave i have to quit too. i can’t work here without you” and they MEAN it!!

[nevergonnaloveagain-hey]

Please write another dating Hozier headcannon!

a/n: OMG i did not expect the first one to get so much love, thank you SO MUCH! Sorry this one is a bit shorter but I hope you like it either way :) 

Here’s part 1 in case you missed it btw

I feel like your relationship would be private but not secret

Like he probably puts a picture of you in some of his concert posts on instagram or brings you along to some festivals or events as his date

Maybe even small and casual mentions of you during interviews, like “yeah, me and my partner did this the other day” or “my partner really likes that…” He’s obsessed with you i fear

You would be spotted pretty often at his shows just singing along and having a good time with your/his friends. He would for sure be looking at you the whole show just so happy to have you there and would occasionally wave or blow you kisses

I don't know why but I love the idea of him teaching you about bees and giving you small updates about his hives and any new additions he’s made. 

He’d love to teach you how to play the guitar (if you can’t already) and just sits behind you while guiding your fingers in the correct places to play one of his songs or one of your favourite songs

And he would definitely get so excited for you if you manage to learn even just two chords and play them without his help

If you already know how to play the guitar, he would ask you to play him so many songs and just admire you the entire time you do but completely deny the fact that his loving stare is distracting you

He truly values cozying up together in bed or on the couch and having deep and meaningful conversations about anything and everything that is on your mind that day whether it is something that is bothering you and you need to vent to him about or if it is just about a new tv show you just watched

This man loves cuddling you and will never pass one up, even if he is in the middle of doing something he will either stop and snuggle up with you for a while or continue what he is doing if it’s important but hold you close to his chest while he tries to finish up faster

He would get so excited after reading a new book or poem and would immediately want to show it to you or talk to you about it, especially if it reminds him of you or your relationship. He would not hesitate to read to you if you wanted, even at night if you ever have trouble sleeping and just want to hear his voice

He does not shy away from showering you with compliments, for example, if you are trying out some new clothes for an event, party or a date, he would be endlessly telling you how good you look and would not be able to take his eyes off of you the whole time

He loves to call you pet names like darling or honey at all times even if you are arguing and especially if you haven’t seen each other in a long time

Speaking of arguments, they would get resolved so quickly. He just can’t stay mad at you and would feel terrible even after you two have made up, so expect a lot of kisses to make it up to you

He would also never yell at you during these arguments and would keep calm throughout it, knowing that shouting doesn't fix things any quicker

Since he is so tall, he would love to kiss the top of your head or your forehead on a daily basis

Especially at night, like this man will not go to sleep unless he gives you a soft peck on your forehead

[tyrian-witch]

Some B.S.

(Steve x Reader)

Synopsis: after a dumb fight with your mom, you call Steve to take you away from your troubles

Warnings: not super proof read, mentions of dysfunctional family, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, Steve being an awesome supportive bf

A/N: don’t worry, I’m working on chapter four of In This World of My Own but this was kind of a vent post and I had to write it out :p don’t mind me

~~~

“Hey, can you pick me up?” you say softly through the receiver. “I need to get out of here.”

Your boyfriend clear his throat on the other end. He must have been asleep and now you feel bad for even calling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, half awake. “I’ll be over in ten, is everything okay?” Despite his sleepy state, he didn’t miss the the way your voice cracked; he knew something was up.

Sniffling, you shake your head. “I don’t even- frickinknow at this point.”

“Just hang in there babe, I’m coming to get you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hangs up and immediately throws on a pair of jeans and his navy blue sweater which he’s come to understand is your favourite one whenever he wears it. Slipping on his shoes, he snatches his keys and jacket, and soon enough, he’s on his way to you.

~~~

Steve’s car is parked a block away from your house, the streetlights illuminating his prized BMW you’ve become so familiar with in the past few years you’ve known each other before dating. You approach the car with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, an action Steve’s come to associate with any time you feel upset about something- not in a childish manner, more so as a gesture of feeling small or remorseful about whatever just transpired, not that it was really your fault. Often, you usually only do it after you’ve had a silly fight with your mom.

Sighing heavily, you sit down in your designated spot next to Steve in the car, the warmth of it enveloping you, along with his scent which has brought you comfort countless times, including tonight. You reach over and give him a big hug and he wastes no time in holding you close to him.

He places a kiss on top of your hair while caressing it.“What’s going on, honey?” he asks softly.

You pull away from the hug and swipe a hand down your face, another sniffle escaping you. “It’s just…” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s just another one of those- stupid fricking arguments,” you grumble. “Like, I can’t even- like-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Take your time.”

Curling in yourself, you rest your head against your knees. “Can we drive around for a bit?” you ask, your voice small and timid.

“Yeah, of course babe, where’d you wanna go?” He begins backing out of the parking space, putting a hand behind the head of your seat to make sure nothing was in the way, and then drives forward.

He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye before you answer. “Maybe we could stop for a milkshake?”

“Yeah? A milkshake?”

You nod.

He smiles in adoration. “Okay, let’s get you a milkshake.”

~~~

You end up parked on an empty street with your milkshake of choice in hand, the plastic cup cool against your palms. It makes you shiver, but the rush of sugar lets you ignore the cold sensation. Steve has one of his own, and occasionally you switch between the drinks to get a taste of the other flavour.

“Okay,” Steve starts gently. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

You nod while sipping on the drink.

He waits patiently as you muster up your words, the soft look in his gaze never faltering.

“Okay, so basically…” you clear the sweet taste from your throat. “What happened… is honestly… so…” you pause in between your words, trying to find the best way to put it into an explanation. “Stupid. It’s just plain stupid.” Throwing your hands up in the air as a tell tale sign of exasperation, you continue. “And the thing is, and- this is honestly so hilarious, it’s the most hilarious thing ever, you’re gonna laugh- I forgot to put mayonnaise on the corn bits that were cut up for my brother!”

Steve blinks once in amazement. “I… what??”

You raise your eyebrows and nod. “Yup.”

“So let me get this straight: your mom got upset at you because you forgot to put mayonnaise on Donnie’s corn?”

“Yeah, and it was an honest mistake that I forgot! I literally forgot and it’s even funnier because I was gonna have my own corn on the cob with mayonnaise and I was ready to warm it up in the microwave! I didn’t even think twice, I just took his plate out when it was done warming up and I brought it to him, and then I was going to put mine in and then my mom saw and that’s when the whole thing happened. Honest to god.” You’re breathing heavily after all the words have spilled out in a rush, trying to make sense of things.

“I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, as if I can’t bring the plate back and add mayonnaise myself. Hell, Donnie can do it himself, he’s ten years old!”

Steve is staring into space as he’s listening; he’s trying to make sense of it too, he’s just as lost.

“Well, that’s not really the point, the point is I know Donnie eats corn with mayo, it’s common sense at this point, but I guess I was just so hungry that I was ready to put my own plate in the microwave. Again: without a second thought. I just forgot! But god forbid if I forget anything, it’s like the end of the fucking world. And it was for Donnie anyways! Not for her! I would understand if he was upset about it, then yeah, okay, but c’mon! Seriously?!”

Taking an angry slurp from your drink, you sink into your seat, feeling more worked up than you were before.

“I mean, yeah I get it,” Steve says, thinking of how to help. “If he was mad, then yeah okay, but it’s not like it couldn’t be fixed. I don’t get why she’s upset. If I was her, I wouldn’t even have you feeling the way you do.” He looks at you and rests a gentle hand on your cheek. “I would never put you through something like this over something so stupid.”

You scoff at the whole situation. “I know. It is stupid. It’s more than stupid, it’s- it’s bullshit!” Something clicks in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh. “She treats me like bullshit! She always always always has something to say! She always judges me and she loves to compare me to my sorry excuse of a dad.” The words roll of your tongue like venomous vigour and contempt, and in the midst of your rambling, Steve’s hand has left your face; he’s learned that when you get this way, it’s best to give you some space, he knows affection will be welcomed back afterwards.

“And obviously when I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, that I could easily fix the problem, she got mad and said that I was patronizing her because I told her the same thing my dad always did: “it’s not a big deal.” Well news flash! It’s not! The world didn’t shut down, did it!? And I’m not my fucking father! I’m not! It’s like she only sees him in me, that’s why she always judges me and never sees me for me. To her, I’m only an extension of him, not separate from him, not as an individual, not as myself, just him.” Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to calm yourself. In a fit of rage, it’s like everything makes sense to you now.

Exhaling sharply, you take your boyfriend’s hand in yours and squeeze before letting go. “It sucks,” you tell him finally. “She’s never understood me. She doesn’t even try. But she’ll actively try to understand Donnie because she sees herself in him.”

You sit in silence for a little while to regain your tranquility, leaning your head against the dashboard. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“You know something?” he asks. “You’re right. It is bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit!”

You perk up at this but don’t say anything - he takes it as a sign to continue.

“It’s bullshit that she doesnt understand you, Y/n. I mean, I understand what that’s like, I mean my own dad is a complete asshole, and my mom well… I don’t know, she’s totally different from yours, but this isn’t about my family issues.” He takes your hands in his, causing you to sit up and take in his words. “It’s bullshit that she doesn’t think you’re a human being who forgets things. Sure, maybe you forget very often, but that’s not even bad. I would never hold that against you ever.”

Biting your quivering lip, you look away to avoid him from seeing your glassy eyes, but he gently tilts your face to look back at him.

“Baby, you are nothing like your dad. Not even a little bit. I know you hate being compared to him, and I’m sorry you’re constantly being misunderstood. I love you for you. I see you.”

Those last few words are what makes you let it all come crashing down as you cry into his chest, hands gripping the navy sweater tightly, hanging on for dear life. Heaving sobs rack through your body and bones as he holds you close to him and kisses the crown of your head, gently caressing your hair.

The milkshakes are long forgotten at this point, and as Steve keeps you close to his heart, he continues to remind you that he understands you, that you are human and make mistakes, simple mistakes like any other. When your crying dies down, you finally give him a kiss. You hadn’t kissed him since you set foot in his car. He kisses you back, slowly and softly, his hands cupping your face as he gingerly wipes away the remaining tears from your red cheeks.

The kiss is your way of telling him ‘thank you for being here, for understanding me’ and in reply, it’s his way of saying ‘I will always be here for you, no matter what.’