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#emotionally yummy
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HEHEHHEEE...
very EVILLY pulls a cooler filled with pistachio and mocha icecream to somewhere miss pauling frequents.. (i dunno if she has a room here but im just)
Hm, what's...who put this here? And how'd they get in my room.
OH MY GOD! My prayers have been answered. I know this was you, eeper...thanks!
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GWORP GNAP SNAP GWAP
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yuribeam · 6 months
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twenty five twenty one finale making me scream and cry and throw rocks and break up with the boyfriend I don't have and light myself on fire and
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inkykeiji · 1 year
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got mistaken for an elementary school student today while leaving the long term care center :)
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tahdashi · 2 years
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hi frens i’m back
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estroniaid · 1 year
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feeling stuck which is Fine we don't need to be moving and improving every single day but man. been in limbo for like four years :')
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mrfoox · 1 year
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Um... It's an bad idea to sleep until tomorrow and wake up early to get showered and fixed but like... Yeah i think that's what I'll do
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tears-exe · 2 years
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Grubhub canceling my order twice because of delivery issues?
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the-faceless-bride · 4 months
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can i have yandere clawd and deuce poly 😪 iltsm( i love yr writing ur one of my fav writers btw 💞)
Omg. I love both of them so much. 🥩🐍 Bluckle the FUCK up, it's a long one. I love them so much. I gave each their own section as to how this started, then the poly together. If you want more of them... Please... Please ask me. P.s. sorry about all the monster puns, I couldn't help myself
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🌕New Ghoul in School🐍
Warnings: OOC Clawd, OOC Duce, OOC Cleo?, OOC Draculaura? Clawd being a kicked puppy, yandere content, controlling behavior, turning to stone, non-con hugging, cuddling and Kisses, forced closeness, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR!, accusations of cheating, emotional cheating?
Characters : Clawd × Reader × Duce
Proof read : nope
Requested?: yes
You had just transferred from your normie school, Turns out people are so accepting of finding out you're a monster. So you transferred to Monster High, and being a new ghoul didn't seem so hard until you tripped an orange werecats tail and she picked a fight with you...
"and just Who, do you think you are? I don't know how you are your Normie friends play, but you don't want to mess with me Ghoul. I'll make you sorry-"
"why don't you go and pick on someone your own size Torilie?"
"yeah, Dude. Not cool."
🐾🐍 • and that's how it started. Just two Mansters defending the New Ghoul. They knew Torilie was one to pick fights and figured they would help you stay out of trouble for the time being. And the three of you became three peas in a pod. And while you all thought it was great, their Ghoulfriends... Had other ideas.
🐍🕶️ • Cleo started having problems as soon as you had arrived. Your first day she already knew who you were, what you were, where you came from, and if you were cool enough to be popular and associate with the Ghouls she does. And she deemed you not worthy. And that was putting a strain on your friendship.
🐍🕶️ • Duce was grown increasingly tired and frustrated. He loved Cleo, he did. But she could be... Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. When they go out he has to change his personality to not embarrass her, she dictates who can can hang out with and when, and he has to constantly hear from her that he should be doing as she asks and says and do it happily as she goes against what her family wants to be with him. He doesn't want to do that anymore. He wants to be able to Shoot Hoops with Clawd, sit with Jackson at lunch, and talk about the Hissstory test. Listen to whatever playlist Holt made or play dodgeball with Slow Mo. Without Cleo saying when he can and can't.
But he just can't leave her. He's become so dependent on her. Hell, the last time She went to Scarise without him, he nearly went crazy as he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave Cleo. Even if he wanted to... Unless. Maybe he didn't need to be dependent on her. Maybe. He could be dependent on you.
🐍🕶️ • Duce began to test the waters, which was the start of his obsession. For example at lunch when Cleo tells him to get the green eyed Salad and a water, he'll then turn around and ask you... Sometimes when you feel the burn of Cleo's raging stare you won't respond or say the same as Cleo, but on the days you don't pay attention or to stressed to care you recommend the meat plant sandwich and the yummy razzberry soda pop you've been drinking the past few days. And he'll pick your recommendation. And it Infuriates Cleo. He likes that with you, he has a choice, where Cleo demands and tells. You offer and recommend.
🐍🕶️ • this intimately ends in an explosive argument that Spectra has a field day covering. And Duce does something, not him. Her. Or anyone else in the school say coming. "I'm breaking up with you Cleo." a long still silence fills the halls as everyone takes a moment to process what he just said. Before Cleo screams and storms away, and Duce... Doesn't feel as heartbroken as he thought he should.
🐍🕶️ • Duce starts spending most if not all his free time with you and Clawd, well. Mostly you as Clawd gets called from Draculaura a lot. And while he's sad he can't spend more time with Clawd he's happy to spend time with you. You help groom his snakes, you help him pick which sunglasses he should wear each day, (even though they are all just different shades of red) as well as his many band sweaters. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially with Spectra's gossip site.
"Duce trades princess for new Ghoul?! Stay tuned for the possible new hot relationship??"
🐾🌕 • when Clawd first met you he thought you were great! He got a new friend to hang out with! Sure Manny, Heath, Gill, and Duce we're cool but Clawd has a thing for fashion and self-care, that's not something he really talks about with them BUT that's OK! cuz now he can talk about it with you! He ended up spending a bit of free time with you, anytime Draculaura was out and shopping or just Fanging out with her Ghoulfriends or catching up with her Cousin, he would spend his afternoon with you. Getting his hair straightened and trimmed, getting manicures so his nails don't get too sharp and ridged. And eventually, when he's comfortable with you, he'll start playing games. Like fetch or chase. The only issue is that when Duce started to come around more and Cleo trying to keep him on a leash, slowly Draculaura started calling him and needed him more and more. He didn't think much of it, until Duce's big breakup with Cleo. A week later Draculaura wouldn't leave him alone for a second, and anytime you started approaching she took his hand and pulled him in another direction.
🐾🌕 • it started becoming draining, he loves spending time with his Ghoulfriend. He truly did. But not when every two seconds she was hinting and implying all the time he spent with you was him creeping around behind her back. Nothing he did or said made her change her mind, now everything he did seemed to set her off. She was so paranoid, that he went out of his way to make her a gift to show that he loved her, but he accidentally made it worse, he had to try and hold back tears and puppy cries as she said, "Bad Clawd!" over and over while tugging his ear. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, he just made a new friend. You nor him did anything. So why was she being like this?
Any attempts to talk about it were shut down, as she tried keeping him away from you. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he liked being clingy but he was clingy because he genuinely wanted to be around his partner not just sticking to them like glue-watching like a hawk to 'catch them in the act'. He would go as far as to say this was worse than the time he was dumped for Valentine the love manipulator.
🐾🌕 • Clawd began to confide in you, Draculaura wouldn't listen to him so he was happy you did. He spent hours just sitting under a tree at the back of the school with you, drawing doodles in the dirt, ears tucked back to his head as he vented about his feelings and how the recent arguments had affected him, you tried to help every time. But eventually, word got to Draculaura about your little meetings, and stormed over one day with her ghoulfriends in toe.
Both you and Clawd had to endure the burning glare of the Ghouls, Draculaura ranting and raving and ultimately giving him an ultimatum. You or her. And Clawd's ears pinned flat to his head, he didn't want to lose his Ghoulfriend but he didn't want to lose you either. But before he could answer Draculaura said something that gave him the push to his ultimate answer. "ugh, I should've known! A guy hangs out with other guys like him! And Duce is a lying, dirty, cheater and so are you! And this new Ghoul sure has some nerve to go around sneaking with other Mansters knowing they are dating someone! If that's the kind of Manster you are Clawd then maybe... Eh *hick* MaYbe we shouldn't Be togEther!" a moment passes where Clawd looks down into Draculaura's wet violet eyes, sighs, then answers. "maybe we shouldn't." the ghoul's Gasp and Draculaura sobs, "FINE! WE ARE OVER!"
🐾🌕 • Clawd thought relieved he wouldn't be interrogated every day and being told he's bad, he's still heartbroken that the Ghoul he thought he'd spend his life with was gone. He clung to you and Duce for security and long talks to make him feel better and eventually, he did. Clawd was back to his peppy, wide-eyed, excitable self again. In fact, he's the happiest he's been. His mood wasn't Even shaken when he found out Draculaura had begun dating his sister, he just didn't care. He was happy.
🐾🌕 • It wasn't until a late-night Chat; that you and Clawd had stayed over at Duce's house after seeing a new skinwalker Scareitage Boovie that Clawd discovered that not only He had feelings for you but so did Duce... And well, he had always liked Duce maybe even more than just a bro, but this changed everything. And they agreed. A scarily wonderful idea...
"Vampy puts doggy out for good? Or does Doggy like the Dog house with his chew toy?"
🐍🐾 • now Duce and Clawd are softer yandere's than the normal. But that doesn't mean they won't use force if they need to. Duce is a Dependant, laid-back, stalker-type yandere. He's ok with letting you have wiggle room as long as he knows where you are at all times and can get to you in a short period. Whereas Clawd is a Clingy, overprotective, worshiper-type Yandere. Clawd wants to be near you all the time if you let him, but he's ok with letting you go for a while as long as he has Duce he always knows where you are because Duce knows, if at any point Duce doesn't know for some reason or he's not around Duce to find out, he'll use his nose to track you down.
🐍🐾 • You probably wouldn't know they are yandere's unless you start trying to spend more time with others that aren't them. The more you try and hang out with Operetta and Cupid they start to get a little more aggressive and demanding of your time and attention. Which can trigger some alarm bells that something isn't right. The best thing would be to try and talk and compromise they are willing to do that as long as you promise to let them keep tabs "for safety reasons," and you spend time with them immediately after.
🐍🐾 • after a month or two they start to be more openly affectionate and act like a Throuple, it went over your head at first with Duce's laid-back attitude and Clawd's over-excitable personality being normal, but the more Clawd wanted to play fetch and hug you, and Duce constantly being around you despite having the freedom to hang out with his other dudes you start to get the idea they might be romantically interested.
🐍🐾 • You opened to the idea, and the relationship seemed to be working well... Until they started to become, overwhelming. Clawd always over your shoulder, Duce always seeming to know where you are... Even when you didn't tell him where you were. And things took a turn when you tried to tell them you needed space. "You're... Breaking up... With us?" you sputtered, you definitely didn't answer and deny fast enough as you felt your body start to stiffen and cold. Duce had turned you to stone. Clawd whimpered while holding your cold stiff stone body, "im sorry sweetheart. But we can't have you running from us. Just be good ok? Please?" after that you'd been chained to them by that point. Nobody would've believed you if you told them the school's Cool guy and oversized puppy were forcing you into a relationship...
🐍🐾 • they aren't too harsh on punishments. For the most part. Once you tried to run away once, you waited for a moment to be alone before printing off trying to get somewhere, anywhere but there. But you forgot who you were dealing with and Clawd chased you down. Clawd's punishments involve many forced hugs, kisses, and closeness. If he shows how much he loves you at some point you'll see it's true and love him too! Right?
Duce will turn you to stone anytime he gets an idea you're about to run off. He makes Clawd drag you to his house. Which takes a lot of manipulation and convincing. Clawd doesn't want to lock you away to be alone. He wants you to be around them! But Duce scares him into going along with it. Even sometimes provokes him to anger to be more willing to lock you in a dirty old basement.
🐍🐾 • overall. As long as you stay and promise to love them, and don't mind clinginess it's a cute relationship... But if you reject them, you'll spend a lot of time in an old basement in Duce's home, alive but unable to move. To feel. Or scream.
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endlessthxxghts · 7 months
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Need You
Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ≈5k
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Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.
Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people — Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!
A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG
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“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out. 
“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded. 
Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.
Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her. 
He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.
“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her. 
Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips. 
Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you. 
His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine. 
You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown. 
In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”
Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!” 
He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother. 
He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies. 
“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”
Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.” 
You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie. 
Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed. 
“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you. 
“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses. 
“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door. 
As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another. 
Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat. 
He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch. 
Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit. 
Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids. 
“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more. 
He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. 
“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-
 “Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you. 
His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?” 
Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest. 
His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his. 
You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.” 
“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks. 
“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.” 
His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” 
You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately. 
“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.” 
Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.” 
“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom. 
He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight. 
You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait. 
He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit. 
“Baby, please,” you whine. 
“I’ve got you, baby.” 
His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that. 
His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple. 
His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.
You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel. 
He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths. 
You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.
One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white. 
His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again. 
“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.
He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. 
He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.
Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”
Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.
He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his. 
“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.
“Hey, Santi.” 
“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now. 
“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case. 
“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.
“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-” 
Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you. 
“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack. 
“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?” 
Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black. 
Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”
You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters. 
“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says. 
You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak. 
“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you. 
“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. 
You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core. 
His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap. 
He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.
“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”
He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight. 
You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know. 
Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you. 
Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”
Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines. 
“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves. 
The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth. 
You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”
“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. 
You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him. 
“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on. 
“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. 
“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth. 
And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available. 
Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.
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The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you. 
[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready. 
[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule. 
You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on. 
[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :( 
[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning. 
[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?
[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me. 
He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day. 
After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on. 
You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning. 
He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. 
“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”
“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.
You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”
His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”
Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug. 
“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.
“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add. 
You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face. 
“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.
“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”
Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”
“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room. 
Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”
The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him. 
“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself. 
“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite. 
Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room. 
“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?
“Every weekend?” Frankie adds. 
You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?” 
Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says. 
“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing. 
He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder.  “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.” 
Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him. 
“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.
“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.
“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”
You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that. 
And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.
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End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo
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Me and my family grew too many tomatoes, and now we’re giving some away. Here:
🍅
Really? Thanks, I actually needed to get some for tonight. :)
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justporo · 8 months
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Hi sweetheart if your request is open I want to request a nsfw and or sfw alphabet for Astarion 🥰
Hello my sweet, Anon, and thank you! Oh exciting, I like these, so I'm happy someone asked me to do this. This will be SFW but maybe I'll do a NSFW version too - if people want it?
I used this wonderful template by @the-coldest-goodbye (thank you for making this!)
Also let's call this
Fluffy relationship headcanons about Astarion and Tav (in alphabetic order)
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(Because I know the word headcanon is somewhat of a Pavlov'sch bell for some people here, hihi~)
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Very much so. Once Astarion really grabs onto the concept of having someone he deeply and truly loves, he tells them every moment of every day. He compliments them, showers them in gifts, his flirtatious behaviour never stops. But oh yeah, they also bicker like an old married couple - it's their love language.
Also he’s very keen to keep his hands on you, PDA: oh hells yeah, showing the whole world you belong to him, also you’re just that yummy.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Pure chaotic goblin energy. If you’re best friends with Astarion you’re most likely enabling each other to commit arson on a daily basis – and you love it.
You most likely stumbled over each other, each thought “what a dickhead, looks so dumb…”, figured you were equally sassy and were inseparable from there on out. Because the best friendships start with thinking “ugh, this dumb idiot…”
Also being in a relationship with Astarion means also being his best friend and having chaotic gremlin moments – like for example grouping up on Gale to shittalk him.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Cuddling is a kind of unusual concept for Astarion at first, like with any kind of non-sexual intimacy. But he very quickly figures out he loves cuddling. Just normal hugging, holding you standing behind you with his arms around your waist. But he also enjoys it so so much when he’s being held, just knowing your arms are his safe haven.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Honestly, after everything? Yes – at least for quite some time I guess Astarion wants to settle down, have some time to figure himself out but also enjoying some mundance peace and quiet with Tav – with the biggest worry being what he’ll wear this night.
He’s shit tho at all the domestic shit. He doesn’t know how to cook or anything else and frankly he has never needed to because even before being turned he lived the comfortable live of a noble. Tav’s going to have to teach him a thing or two on how not to be so messy…
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Despite that I am 1000% convinced that Tav and Astarion are endgame… Quickly, I believe, like ripping a bandaid off, but making sure to really get the point across on why.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
The idea of commitment might scare Astarion, the idea of having Tav forever does not. So I guess he would actually come around to the idea although you both assure each other it’s not to prove something. Also Astarion does joke about it – because he loves thinking about it, to have someone who’s loving him until the end of time.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
So gentle, almost chaste, especially at first. Yeah yeah, he knows every trick in the book when it comes to sex, but exploring what a committed relationship can feel like? Sharing small moments of intimacy, opening up his feelings that he never really allowed himself to have before.
That being said I believe the first time Tav and Astarion sleep with each other after he’s freed: it’s like it’s his first time, fully there, bravely letting himself fall into your open loving arms, experiencing for the first time what it means to be this kind of intimate with someone you love more than anything else in this world.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Something he also didn’t really quite get until he shared it with Tav – and then the other ones who became his friends. He relishes hugs as something that really make him feel at peace. And he does become a hugger, at least with Tav: small, quick hugs to full-blown embraces – although these are something he likes to enjoy only with you. Oh, and they’re wonderful hugs: not too strong, not too weak, although Astarion might be a bit of a clinger, especially in the beginning, when he can never get enough.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Tav says it first, but he’s pretty brave and pretty sure about his feelings (at least about how hard he’s fallen once he accepts the initial fact), so pretty quickly. And after that: AT. ANY. POSSIBLE. MOMENT.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Jealous, but reasonably so. Like he can obviously differentiate if you’re just friends with someone or if it might even just be flirty banter (because he’s also guilty as charges with that) but someone hits on you, you’re definitely not interested, the other person keeps pushing? He’ll be ready to rip their throat out. He gets protective. This being said, his jealousy is always focused on the other party pushing a toe out of line, not you.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Everything? Everywhere? All at once?
Of course his kisses are perfect, he likes to kiss every inch of your body and loves when you repay him for that in like. Although like with other intimate moments it’s still something new to him because there are a lot of feelings in it now.
Also Astarion and Tav love to annoy each other with giving each other big wet smooches when the other person is being annoying or just needs a lip-smacking reminder of affection.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
“You’re so gross, Astarion.”
“Why is cute, when Scratch does it, but not when I do it?”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT A DOG, ASTARION!”
“I mean I could bark if you wanted me to.”
Children can be annoying them because “ugh, why are they so loud and smelly… and sticky” but Astarion loves the chaotic energy kids have. And if the other companion’s would ever bring kids over he would absolutely incite them to cause chaos all around, teach them naughty words, give them candy so they get a sugar rush when they should actually go to bed.
And Astarion is good at telling kids captivating stories, so he becomes the resident storyteller when friends with kids come visit.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) (or in his case evenings, I figure)
Slow, full of cuddles and “five more minutes, my love, please” – basically he loves to just hang around with you in bed. He also takes his sweet time getting ready after waking up – A) because he can B) “when you look this good…”; once he figures out what Tav’s favourite hot beverage is in the morning, he’d learn how to brew it perfectly and bring it to them when he’s feeling generous.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) (and here days, accordingly)
Even more cuddles, talking before bed, talking after going to bed, probably having lots of wine while doing so – or just lounging around reading with his head in your lap while you detangle his soft curls.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Slowly at first but then more and more. But there’s just as much for him to unpack as there is for you to learn and take in. But Astarion learns quickly that you’re a good person to open up to: he feels safe and seen with you. And even if it doesn’t fix all his trauma right away – telling you, it really helps.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Astarion has more than a bit of temper. He can get very easily annoyed especially by little, seemingly unimportant things. He can snap at you but he tries to take a quick breather then and work through it and apologises – even though this too is something he learns slowly.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
I think he memorizes a lot about everyone anyway, because it’s a survival instinct to gather all possible information that might become helpful. But besides that: once Astarion is all aboard the relationship train, he will absolutely remember everything – probably even better than you. That’s also why he gets you the best gifts, because he listens, when you tell him something that you would like.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
He holds the memory of this first special hug very close and dear in his heart. Because he remembers how incredibly frightened he was how scary that leap was. But there you were quite literally with open arms and an open heart.
But there’s lots more moments. When you bought the house in Baldur’s Gate and he could carry you inside the first time cheekily in bridal style? The first gift you ever gave him for your first anniversary? There’sso many and he collects them like precious little treasures.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Very, oh he’s so very protective. And he will cut someone if the need arises. He might actually even be a bit too eager about it. And he likes when you’re protective of him as well – and let’s be honest you’re just as eager to keep him safe.
Nobody touches you or him – or they get the sharp end of a knife.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Everyday stuff, oh eeeeh, it’s hard. Astarion is just so not used to it, but he tries. He really does. And gifts, dates and all? Firstly, he finds out that he’s very much a romantic. Secondly, this man does not do things like this lightly, because “if we were going to be basic about it, we don’t have to do it at all”.
And he regularly outdoes himself trying to spoil you.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
As much as he tries to be open and learn. The habits of 200 years die hard. Sometimes when he feels backed into a corner he snaps and he can be very much hurtful. And as much as you want to pretend you rationally know it better, you do get angry sometimes, you do feel hurt. And you do have fights.
But at latest when tempers are cooled again, you always get back around to talking it through and learning something from it. The two of you never go to bed angry with each other – that’s an unspoken agreement.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Astarion deeply is a creature of vanity. He cares about his looks almost as much as he cares about Tav. And it can annoying, but then again: he deserves to treat himself and he deserves all the swooning and pining and compliment you can give him – and you happily supply.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Let me cite a fic of mine and although Tav says it, Astarion feels very much the same:
“I love you so much, I would give up everything for you, if only it meant I could still be with you. I would burn this whole world down if it meant, I could keep you safe. I would walk with you to the end of the universe if it was what you needed to be happy. And if I ever where to leave this earthly world behind, I believe my soul would find you again – and again and again – because I’m half and only ever whole with you.”
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
It’s hard to say that he has no regrets. And surely Astarion would never want to go through all his trauma again, but yet… in the end he met you, didn’t he?
In the end he found you and you became his light.
Sometimes he thinks about that as you lay beside him dreaming. He softly moves a strand of hair out of your closed eyes and thanks whatever God has sent you his way
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Plainly, if they saw him in a way like probably everyone did for the past two centuries and if he felt used by them. But you’re you and would never do that.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He doesn’t know it but he tends to be a clinger when he’s in his dreamful trance. And maybe this is only a thing he developed since the two of you have been together, but he sometimes wakes you because in his sleep he pulls you to him so you’re left with nothing but snuggling up to him – becoming his life size teddy bear.
You’d never have it any other way!
(Also sorry for swinging between Tav/you - I'm just so used to 2nd person perspective while writing, oops)
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give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca
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pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨
<<< read part 1 here >>>
06.13 PM
Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.
The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”
“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.
“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”
“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”
Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.
“Smells yummy.”
“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.
No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.
“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”
“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.
“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”
“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”
“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”
“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.
“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”
Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 
“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”
“He should come home, then.”
It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.
The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.
So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”
When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.
“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”
Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.
Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.
He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.
And little does he know, so do you.
“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”
It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.
Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.
“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.
But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.
“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.
And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.
*** 
08:37 PM
If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.
But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.
“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”
“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”
“Uh… what do you got?”
“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”
His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”
“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 
Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?
“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.
He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.
Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”
You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.
“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.
“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”
You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”
“‘The Bear Who Did.’”
“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”
The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.
“Me too.”
“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”
He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”
At home, the words echo in your head.
With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.
“So, uh… how have you been?”
“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”
“And do you? Live a little?”
“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.
Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”
“Seriously?” 
“Mm-hm.”
You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”
He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”
“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.
“Oh come on…”
“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”
His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”
Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.
Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 
This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.
“I’ve been on dates here and there…”
Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”
You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”
He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.
“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”
“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”
“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.
“Because I do miss you.”
Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”
“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”
Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”
He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”
“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.
“No. That’s not it.”
“Then what the fuck is it?”
Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.
After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”
It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”
“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”
“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”
Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”
“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”
The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”
Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”
You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”
“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”
You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”
“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.
The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.
“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 
“What was that?”
“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.
The coast is clear.
You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.
“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”
“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.
“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.
Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.
“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 
His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.
You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.
There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 
“It’s in the—”
Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.
He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.
“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.
He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”
It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.
And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?
Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.
“Does it still hurt?”
You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.
His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—
“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”
The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.
Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.
Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.
You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…
You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.
“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.
Or worse, a mistake.
You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.
It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”
He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”
Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.
God.
You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.
Christmas Eve, two years ago. 
Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.
And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.
So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.
But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 
“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.
“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.
“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.
“You sure?”
No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.
So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 
“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…
“Luca, I— now.”
He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”
“What, why?”
“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.
Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”
“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”
His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.
Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.
Down your torso.
Between your nether lips.
You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”
“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.
His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”
The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?
Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”
“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.
“Luca…”
“Wait, just let me—”
So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,
“Please.” 
The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.
It’s just you and him and this need.
And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…
“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.
You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—
“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”
You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.
Love.
As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…
“Luca…” you gasp sharply.
He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”
You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 
And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…
You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.
Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.
He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”
“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”
“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?
“I want you to.”
“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”
You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”
“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 
Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.
There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.
“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.
Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.
***
9:56 PM
“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 
“It was.”
“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”
“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.
“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?
Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”
You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.
The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”
“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.
“No, I just… I wanna know.”
“You don’t really wanna know.”
“Is it a lot?”
“I mean…”
“How many?” 
You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”
He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”
“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”
“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”
“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”
“What?”
“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”
Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”
“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”
“What do you mean?”
You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”
“And you see me in them?” 
“Every single one.”
“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.
And you tried very hard.
“I’m sorry.”
He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.
The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.
Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.
He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.
Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.
You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.
And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,
“Do you still love me?” 
You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”
“Do you want us to try again?”
“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”
“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.
“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.
“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.
Slow and steady and certain.
The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”
“Then let me come home. Please?”
“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”
His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.
“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.
“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”
That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.
“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”
You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”
“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”
“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.
You hope he will.
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natalchartnurtures · 2 months
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PAC: A quick and dirty guide to surviving the eclipse season~
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WHY DID NOBODY WARN US ABOUT THIS
(pile 1 to 3- left to right)
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PILE 1:
How is the eclipse affecting you?
I immediately heard 'they don't really care about what others think anymore.' I'm getting that this eclipse really helped you step back into your authenticity in a powerful way. You might've had to revise and purge old wounds that had their roots in childhood. Any addictions of yours (if you have/had any) have been addressed because of this grand 'purging of the old and unwanted.' It's like your defense mechanisms have taken a backseat because of your inner work around the root of your addictions (maybe your addictions were part of your defense mechanisms). You might've had to live with a certain darkness looming in the background, no matter what you did in your life or where you went in life, and it seems like you've really had to look the root of this darkness in the eye. The eclipse didn't really give you an option; you simply had to. Let's talk about this darkness a little, shall we? It seems to me like you had a stark lack of a healthy masculine figure as well as a lack of a healthy feminine figure in your life. You didn't have much support as a result of this, you to felt or still sre felling disempowered in your life as a whole. THIS is what the eclipse helped you to wake up to. Through the chaos that you're experiencing right now, you'll find exactly what you need to nurture yourself (maybe for the first time ever, for some of you). I feel like you guys might end up tending to the health of your root chakra as a result of this inner work.
Your guide to getting through it like a soldier-
-Care for your anxiety. By that, I simply mean don't deny or suppress your anxiety; see where it's coming from, feel into it, and really sit in it because what you feel, you heal.
-Use EFT (emotional freedom techniques) to help yourself really sit in difficult emotions and/or anxiety.
-ALONE TIME is a need!
-Find ways to 'throw up' emotionally. Like, for example, have a hardcore dance session by yourself at 3 am to angry songs if you have been feeling angry lately. OR you could write all your emotions down onto a paper and tear that paper up and then have a big cry session. Whatever allows you to FEEL your emotions, go do it.
-After your heavy 'purge sessions,' seek things that bring you comfort. Indulge in some TLC if and when you can 😊
Some resources to help you get started-
How to Get Rid of Anxiety (A Natural Cure for Anxiety) - Teal Swan
Learn how to experience your emotions fully
Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT)
How To Open Your Root Chakra
Hope this helped! That was your reading, pile 1. Love, light, and support!
~~~~~~~~~~
PILE 2 :
How is the eclipse affecting you?
As soon as I tapped into your energy, I felt extremely light and airy, as if I turned into a cloud of cotton candy floating away into a bright blue sky. Wow, this tells me one very CLEAR thing - you've done your inner work diligently this eclipse season! You've taken the eclipse energies on actively and worked WITH it, absolutely in sync with the universe. Now all that's left for you is welcoming a brand new energy into your life.
How can you do exactly that?
-Actively schedule in things that bring you joy ✨️
-Every now and then when you feel like heavy emotions are rising to the surface, allow them to pass. Let your emotional intelligence shine, sweetheart.
-After you've felt your emotions, it's time to take care of you! TLC all the way, baby. Think long bubble baths, move slower than usual, enjoy yummy foods, wrap yourself in your favorite blankie. Drink some soul-healing soup. You get the vibe.
-Ground yourself. Listen to grounding frequencies whenever you feel like your thoughts carry you away.
-Mother yourself. By that, I simply mean - feed yourself well, allow yourself a consistent sleep cycle, find ways to make your life easier, support yourself in whatever little ways you can 😊
Some resources to help you get started-
Learn how to experience your emotions fully
How to Stop Expecting The Worst (Catastrophizing) -Teal Swan
That was your reading, dear sweet pile 2!
Hope it helped.
Love, light, and support!
~~~~~~~~~~
PILE 3 :
How is the eclipse affecting you?
You're going to have a 'real awakening' this eclipse season 😬 So, apparently, you've been going through your life blissfully unaware of your wounds and how they were blocking you from living a far better life. You operated under the impression that your life as it is right now was good just the way it is and honestly… a reflection of your full potential. But you couldn't possibly be further from the truth. It's like this eclipse was a rude awakening for you to realize just how limited of a life you were leading. Must've been a difficult thing to process? Yes? Since your old cycles have been blowing up in your face lately, you've been in a process of empowering yourself and are slowly opening up to new aspects of yourself that you previously weren't aware existed, the parts of you that are deeply emotional and intuitive. Doing this will really boost your strength and resilience in general. But there's some good news I have for you. You're on your way to feeling much more satisfied in your life, sprinkled in with great relationships all around you. It's like you're headed to a more aligned life. It's beautiful to be honest. It's obviously going to come after this intense period of awakening ripples out into a plateau though after a period of internal discomfort.
So, how can you survive this period to get to where you wanna be?
-Slow. Tf. down. Take your breaks and pace yourself. Easier said than done but pacing yourself will really help you through the chaotic energy floating around right now. Walk slower than usual, eat slower than usual, stare up at the sky and daydream when you're on a bus or something. Do romantic stuff (not necessarily with a partner, simply for yourself).
-Take some time on a regular basis to tune into your emotions. Learn how to feel again. It's really important for you right now and also doing this will greatly expedite your journey as well
-Replace some of your social time with alone time. Use it to reflect on yourself (this might feel way out of your comfort zone by the way).
-Do abundance affirmations (or all areas of life) and affirmations for forward movement.
-listen to subliminals that bring you a sense of abundance in all areas of your life.
-Find ways to feel active in your own life. Dabble in main character (MC) energy. See what it means for you.
Some resources to help you get started-
How To Feel (Learn How to Start Feeling) - Teal Swan
Learn how to experience your emotions fully
Abundance subliminal
Subliminals for positive growth and forward movement
That was your reading, dear sweet pile 3!
Hope it helped.
Love, light and support!
~~~~~~~~~~
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milkzoro · 8 months
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which of my fav op men i’d give to each zodiac sign 🫀
cancer
gymbro!zoro - yall need someone who will baby you & fuck u good!!!
aquarius
insane!law - u get a man who will cut u up & play with your organs. u love it, i know
virgo
kaku! - he’s so unserious but ur so obsessed with it & you like a man with a big nose
pisces
boyfriend!sanji - ohhhh my i daydream about him, bby boy will make u all the best comfort meals n be sooo in luv with u
gemini
fuckboy!ace - i know this version of him puts you in the ward,,, you’re feral & climbing up the walls for him
aries
big dick!sanji - he’s got all the stamina in the world & a monster cock, what else do you need? stroke game unmatched btw
taurus
zombie!luffy - ur dumb enough to fuck a zombie,,,,,,, it’s okay tho u like keeping him in chains (kinky mf)
capricorn
himbo!zoro - (one of my personal favs) he lives to serve y/n. will do anything & everything for u. his brain only has 3 thoughts. strong. swords. y/n.
sagittarius
emotionally unavailable!zoro - u got the ‘i can fix him’ mentality, srry babe it’s not gonna work out
scorpio
manipulator!sanji - he’s gonna get in your head & never escape! gives good dick tho (and mouth)
leo
alabasta!ace- do i even need to say anything. mans is serving cunt in alabasta, his best era imo he’s yummy
libra
dilf!rayleigh - he’s sexy & ur sexy so it makes sense, fuck rayleigh is so hot mmmgffhdhdff mfmmmmm mm
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luvvyouforever · 29 days
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sfw alphabet - dr harvey ❥
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-> because you all loved my nsfw alphabet so much and because i passed all of my college finals so i deserve a little treat!
-> this is kind of all over the place because it was written slowly over the course of a week but i hope you enjoy <3
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a = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)
harvey is not very affectionate in public. he likes things to be very reserved so maybe he'll wrap his arm around your waist, or offer you a kiss on the cheek, but it will never be very public. as for indoors? he loves showing you sweet affection! when you're cooking, he'll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you and ask you what yummy dinner you're making. he'll come find you around the farm and offer you a kiss and lemonade. just the sweetest.
b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)
harvey is definitely the kind to want to be friends for a while before dating. it started rather chill with the occasional pop by for some elixirs or awkward encounters when you get hurt in the mines. then you learn his tastes and now drop by with jars of pickles. deep conversations, genuine interest in what you like or what you're doing, and some lunches together!
c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)
harvey is a warm person so i would say he likes to cuddle to get sleepy and wind down but when he's ready to sleep, he'll turn over and brush one of his legs against yours rather than full cuddle session all night. i think he's either a little spoon or he likes when you lay on his chest.
d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)
yes, harvey wants to settle down so bad! not only is he growing in age, but he just wants stability and comfort. his days of flings and situationships are over. he is in for the long run. he loves cooking and cleaning and fully believes that your domestic tasks should be evenly split. i mean, even in the game he will get up and clean around the house, fix up your fence posts, or feed the animals! he's an angel!
e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
harvey is definitely not the kind to lead you on in any kind of fashion and thought it's hard for him, he will be honest and confront you about anything bothering him. if it came to breaking up, he would be a big strong adult about it to your face and assure you that he will always be your friend. however, it would really hurt him and he'd be out of commission for a few days, leaving maru to pick up the slack around the clinic.
f = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)
i think harvey is all down for commitment! he's such a loyal person and i think he could imagine himself marrying you very early in the relationship. however, he definitely gives it time, like maybe a few years, if that, before a proposal. he wants to be able to go through some tough times together to know that you can make it through as a married couple.
g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
SO gentle, are you kidding? he doesn't treat you like a precious wilted flower because he knows you can handle yourself well but he's so soft when he touches you and will never purposely hurt you. emotionally, he is the same. he cries at sad movies, loves sentimental things, and falls head over heels for some verbal affection.
h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)
harvey likes hugs!! he likes finding you throughout the day and just wrapping you in his arms when he misses you. he likes hugs when he's had a long day. he definitely hugs with his full body, like throws his entire self into it. once you're together, you will never get a half-ass side hug from him.
i = i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)
harvey definitely feels and understands that he loves you pretty early on but he will not say it first! i think you would be laying in bed, sunshine peeking through the curtains that illuminates harvey's eyes at the perfect angle, and you just feel it and you whisper it to him there. he looks at you with wide eyes, watery, and smiles. his response is full of sentiment and truth.
j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)
it's a rare day when harvey gets jealous. he has full loyalty to you and expects you to have the same. if someone is noticeably making you uncomfortable or clearly trying to pursue you, he will step in and stop whatever is happening. then when you get back to the house or to harvey's apartment, he'll wanna shower you in extra affection to make up for it! however, a little alcohol in him and his jealousy can turn into something else wink wink nudge nudge.
k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)
so sweet and delicate! even if he's late for work, he will take his time kissing you goodbye and make sure you remember him for the rest of the day. he loves kissing your forehead when he wraps you in his arms or kissing your shoulder in the morning when he wakes up! he loves getting kissed on the cheek and it never fails to make him blush!!
l = little ones (how are they around children?)
he is nervous around the children of pelican town because he doesn't really know what they're into! he's like two-ish decades older than them! but when you have your own children, he is the most perfect father. he is understanding, patient, and encourages them in anything they do. hot take but he might be one of the best parents in the game.
m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)
during the weekday, you have a routine. harvey wakes up early, kisses you till he sees signs of life, whispers a greeting, then starts getting ready. mornings are full of cups of coffee, bumping past each other in the bathroom, and a final departing in which harvey heads towards the clinic and you start watering your crops. on the weekends, it's a little more lazy and harvey will spend extra time appreciating the time he gets to have with you in bed <3
n = night (how are nights spent with them?)
you know the whole concept of parallel play? i definitely think you and harvey participate in this a lot. perhaps you're reading, cooking, or doing another hobby you enjoy and harvey is building another model, reading his own books, or listening to music! once you've wound down together, you'll change into pajamas, do night time routines which harvey will never let you skip, and then you'll get into bed where you'll cuddle until you're too sleepy to handle it!!
o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
he definitely says things one at a time, starting with small stuff. like you'll learn about his hobbies that he keeps hidden, then once you start getting serious, he'll open up about his life, his dreams, his childhood, etc. he really needs to build that level of trust with you before he can so easily be vulnerable. in turn, he would always encourage you to be open with him and he would be such an amazing listener for you.
p = patience (how easily angered are they?)
harvey is not quick to anger at all. frustration? yes. he will get firm when you keep running out to the caves and coming back hurt or if you've spent too much time in the farm and it's clearly starting to hurt you physically. i think harvey only gets angry when there's a level of disrespect present. like, if he encountered someone being mean without any clear purpose, he would get angry. or if you were just outright refusing and not listening to anything he said? then his patience would grow a little thin!
q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
harvey remembers a lot about you on a larger scale! i mean, realistically he has to save a lot of space in his brain for all the smart medical stuff he's doing so he will remember your favorite color but there's no way he could remember the exact shade and get it right every time. on the flip side, when it is something about you that is routine and pops up everyday, then he will have it committed to memory like the way you take your coffee, the time you feed the animals, the way you like your clothes folded, etc. it's the small things he remembers that you don't notice but make such a big difference in your relationship! so what if he doesn't get you flowers in the exact color you like? your drawers are folded and organized to the exact method you like!
r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
the moment you came to him with a bouquet, asking him if we wanted to be your partner. he was ecstatic and it's something that really stuck with him after so long of not being in a relationship and feeling that kind of love consistently. if he's ever feeling anxious or insecure, he'll remember that moment and remember the excitement in your eyes when you came to him with the flowers behind your hand. a very close second is your wedding day which he has immortalized in his mind to the very tiny detail.
s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)
hmm i think harvey is protective of you to an extent. he is perfectly aware that you can handle yourself very well, but he can't help reminding you to be incredibly careful when out in the caves or on some kind of quest that might prove dangerous. when you eventually get hurt in the caves and he has to take you back to the clinic, he can't help but let that protectiveness seep through where he'll reprimand you for not taking enough food or enough healing elixirs. as for harvey, he never wants to feel like a burden but he kind of likes being protected and reminded to be careful about things! he needs that proof that someone cares for him! also some extra: when you eventually convince him to go just a few floors down in the caves with you, he freaks out at the littlest slime but he gets butterflies when you kill it in front of him and protect him against the bugs that go down in one hit.
t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
i think harvey tries to put in as much effort as he can!! when he commits to giving you a good date night, he will cook the best dinner he can for you and make sure that you have the best time. everyday tasks will be done to the best of his ability even if he didn't harvest some of your crops in the right way. his gifts are more thoughtful and sentimental rather than materialistic so if you want a designer bag, harvey is not for you. he'd rather spend his weekends creating a huge photo collage that chronicles your entire relationship.
u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)
he worries himself sick over his job and the people of pelican town. hipaa violations do exist in stardew valley so while he can't tell you about george's declining health, you will see it in the way he comes home with an extra sag in his shoulders after having an appointment with him. i think he also doubts his looks a lot and wonders if you'd prefer to be with someone younger who can give you a more fun lifestyle.
v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)
he keeps up his personal grooming! the pixelated mustache speaks for itself. i think he likes to present a clean image but doesn't really mind when that becomes disheveled. he especially doesn't mind having messy hair and hanging out in his pajamas around you! he might not shave his 5 o'clock shadow immediately, but on sunday night or monday morning, he's doing a little maintenance to be a clean-shaven doctor!
w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)
yes, absolutely. i think he feels like there was always something missing in his life despite becoming a doctor and performing great work. when he meets you, he finally finds out what that is. now he doesn't know what he would do without you! he has someone keeping him young, someone who loves him, who is invested in everything he does. you're his other half!
x = xtra (a random headcanon for them.)
hmm, i know harvey canonically listens to music a lot but i really think that it is much more than we see. i think that when he's in the house, there's a steady flow of music pumping through the rooms and leaking through the windows. he likes a lot of different genres and i see him listening to some older rock music too! when you have kids with him, he instills a love of music in them and when he does household chores, he'll hold them on his hip and dance around!
y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
rudeness is a major turn-off for him. the minute he sees someone being mean or hateful, he will catalog that and have a tiny grudge against that person. he also wouldn't really like if his partner was a little too messy to the point of reaching unhygienic/gross. i mean, he spends his workdays in a sanitized, sterile environment so he tries to keep his home life rather orderly too. that doesn't mean there can't be a pile of clothes on the floor but he would hate a huge pile of gross dishes.
z = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?)
he snores guys i'm sorry. i really think this man sounds like a freight train. he's 30 years old and should probably wear some kind of mouth tape to keep it from happening. maybe also grinds his teeth but denies that he does it? definitely gets really hot at night so sleeps with a very thin blanket or, in the summer time, nothing at all. will most definitely not discard his comfy pajama pants, though. god forbid. he usually sticks to his side of the bed though and isn't a huge blanket hog!
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