#lates

Ryan Gosling is everyone's personality.

These are my personalities.

Me tocó, se que estás aquí adentro, mi pecho lo sabe, mis manos los sienten; lates al mismo tiempo acelerado que lo hace mi corazón cuando te recuerdo, suspiro y el aire se hace poco cuando te añoro. Me agitó tan solo de nombrarte, mi pensamiento enloquece con tu imagen, mis sentidos se ponen alerta y un escalofrío me llega cuando tú escencia percibo. Mi boca te desea, mi piel pide que la acaricies, mi cuerpo que lo tomes y un vaivén de placer y pasión es quiebre para mi cabeza. Habitas dentro de mi y eso, no lo puedes evitar aunque quieras.

Dabi acts as if he’s this tough, rugged man who has little to no emotions but in reality, he bottles them all inside and then one day, he’ll die. He’s brimming with emotion and on the rare occasion that he does slip, he’s losing himself until he’s holding himself together, both literally and figuratively.

When you come into his life, he always has an arm around you thrown haphazardly, his fingers drumming against your skin or dragging in loose lines. He keeps you close to him at all times, always leaning on you with an almost tiresome expression etched onto his face. The only indication that he’s paying attention to you is when you shift and he gives you glance and adjusts himself to the new posture you’ve put out for him.

He’s touchy in public, always a hand or arm around you, a leg tossed above yours or him bringing you to sit on his lap. He’s making himself known and putting his scent on you like a claim. Behind closed doors, the bravado sheds itself a bit. He lies down on his bed with arms and legs spread, taking up as much space as possible. It’s all a ploy to get you to snuggle up to him.

He knows how much you like to cuddle up to him, to bury your face into his chest and just lay there with him. You always complimented him on how warm he is, calling him your personal heater and moving his hands along the soft bits of your body. You know he spreads himself on the bed for you; whenever you question him, he goes silent and tells you to just go to sleep, a silent threat on the back of his tongue that never forces its way out.

When Dabi first met you, his eyes were cold and flames hot that made steam rise out of him. Words filled with poison would be directed at you but when the relationship began, the poison never made another appearance. He kept you close to him, wrapping his arms tight around you, pressing a rough kiss against your lips when his fingers would dance on your sides.

You would squirm under his touch, clasp your hands above his when he inched them away, giggles escaping through your lips when he jerks his fingers, letting them dig into your sides, nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck where he can feel the vibrations of your laughter and pulse quicken. He shrugs at your little quirk (for lack of a better word) but it makes you happy. And he’s more than happy to hear you laugh.

If he gets to press himself into you, feeling your soft skin against his scarred one, taking in your scent and mixing it with his own, then he’s not going to raise a brow when you laugh and muffle it against his shoulder. Your heartbeat quickens and you’re gasping for air, your muscles spasm and your dig your hands into the back of his shirts.

He loves holding you more than anything- more than he’ll ever admit. He needs to have you around him, needs to have a hand on you, making sure that you’re still there and with him, actively searching him out and caressing his mauve colored scars. You seek his warmth and he gives it you without fuss, wrapping you in his arms and tangling his legs with yours.

He’s not going to admit it, but the smile on his lips when you press a soft kiss to him is enough of an indication that he enjoys the nightly cuddle sessions as much as you. He lets out a scoff if you move away, pressing his hands against the small of your back when he wants you closer. He needs you close to him, loves the way you smile and return all the little touches with much more.