#marvel valentine special

[jake-g-lockley]

The Sun, Sky and Beyond (Moon Knight x reader): Valentine’s Day Special

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY BABIES <3 There’s nothing in this world greater than love and so may love find you in every aspect of your lives! Here’s a little day with the moon boys xxx

Word Count: 2.4k of fluff

You squint at the light that hit your eyes as you woke up to the sound of birds twittering outside your flat. You could smell the sunlight as it warmed the sheets, creating a comforting little bubble around you. You stretched your arm out only to find the space beside you empty. You hum and turn over onto the boys’ side, twisting your neck so that you could inhale their sweet familiar scent, grinning to yourself. The corner of the bed dipped slightly and your smile deepened, as their presence wrapped you in their embrace without them even laying a finger on you.

“Pst, baby, wake up.” Steven’s British drawl met your ears and greeted your brain with a shot of dopamine. 

You stretched your arm towards him and beckoned him to join you. You feel the mattress move around you as he crawls over you and gently lays on top of you, the heaviness of his full body weight cracking and popping your sleepy joints. You groaned and laughed as Steven traced your neck with his nose, peppering tiny kisses in its wake. 

“Let’s stay here forever, please?” you mumble as you run your hands through his unruly hair that was feathery soft and fluffy with sleep. 

“I’d love that … but we have plans, love.” Steven whispered between kisses. 

“We can still carry out ‘plans’ in bed, angel” you grinned as Steven slowly lifted his head from your neck. 

“Now listen to me you little devil, don’t you dare tempt me with your tricks!” He feigned shock. “I’m left with no choice, I’ll have to banish the devil with my own hands.”

You gasped as one of Steven’s hands collected yours at the wrist and pinned it above your head before digging his fingers into your side. Steven knew all of your sweet spots and his skilled fingers tickled away, making you yelp and scream like a hyena. One of his legs pinned yours down, immobilizing you and you had to admit defeat before you peed yourself. 

“OKAY, I’LL LISTEN!” you squealed when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Steven let go and brought his hands up to your face, brushing your hair away from your eyes with a smile.

“That’s my good girl. When we get back, we’ll most definitely listen to your plans, okay?” Steven smirked cheekily before giving you one last kiss and pulling you up with him.

“I do have a question for you though.” He says as he pulls you to the edge of the bed and kneels down on both knees in front of you.You raise your eyebrows to prompt him to continue. He reaches out and you think he's going to tuck your hair behind your ear but he pulls out three roses leaving you bewildered.

“Will you, my love, be our valentine?” Steven says, wiggling his eyebrows.

There was a pregnant pause as you stared at Steven. In that few seconds, you had a quaint realization that you were the luckiest human on the planet. Not many people are blessed with a loving partner, but you? You were blessed, not with one, but with three. Your heart ran itself on overdrive as it tried to pump blood cells into your brain for you to answer Steven’s question. 

“Of course,” you breathed. “Of course I’ll be your valentine, all three of you.”

You were blushing and you swear Steven could feel your cheeks burning from where he knelt when he gave you a big toothy grin. You hid your face in your hands and felt like a schoolgirl for a second. 

“Oh no, darling, what’s wrong?” Steven says, gently prying your hands from your face. 

It’s not like you forgot it was Valentine’s Day, it’s just that today was the first time anyone had asked you to be their Valentine. After a whirlwind few months of dating your best friend, happiness you felt had infatuated you to the point that the idea of Valentine’s Day had totally slipped from your mind. 

“It’s my first Valentine’s Day.” you whisper with a small smile. 

“Oh!” Steven exclaimed. 

“You scared me a little, but I think you may have forgotten that it’s our first Valentine’s Day too, if it makes you feel any better.” He said soothingly, as he caressed your cheek with his fingers.

You nod and watch as he stood up and scooped you up into his arms, making you giggle. 

“We promise to make it count.” he said firmly as he carried you to the bathroom.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You come out of the bathroom a few minutes later to find a long, billowing sleeved lilac maxi dress that had a long slit up the front lying on the bed. You gaped at it for a while before you noticed the shade and smirked. Scanning the room for any sign of your boys, you sneaked into your secret compartment in the closet and pulled out a lacy lilac lingerie set that you had been saving, saying your goodbyes to it before putting it on. You quickly run through your hair and make up while Steven hopped in the shower. 

Once you applied your kohl, Marc stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Your eyes widen slightly to take his physique from the reflection of the mirror as he walks towards you. 

“Stop checking me out, you perv!” He tutted before giving you a downward smile as you rolled your eyes. 

He slung his arms around you and before you realized, he brought his hands to the back of your neck and with a click, left a beautiful white gold chain with a stone pendant. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart. A little gift to add to your otherworldly appearance.” He smiled before kissing the top of your head and smoothing out your curls.

You stared open mouthed at the chain, your fingers grazing the flat oval stone. The stone was a peculiar color and you didn’t recognise it. On one side your initials were carved with a tiny intricate sun beside it. 

“Marc, baby, this is lovely- why are you smiling like that?” You looked at Marc who had a mischievous smile on his face. 

Otherworldly appearance.

“Marc, you did not!” you gasped, grabbing the pendant for a closer look. 

“I, in fact, did not do anything stupid.” Marc said chuckling, “Asked the boss for some help.” 

“It’s bloody beautiful.” you cradled the moon rock pendant in your hands standing up to press a kiss onto Marc’s lips. 

“Glad you liked it, honey,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Alright, give me a few minutes, then Jake will show you your next surprise. 

There’s more ?!

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hold tightly onto Jake's hands as he leads you through a grass field, a soft satin blindfold obscuring your vision. The fresh smells of earth and grass hit you first, making you take a deep breath. You could feel the breeze flow through your hair. You feel yourself gently being pulled down. Instead of sitting on grass, your skin was presented with the feeling of soft wool. You could feel Jake slipping your sandals off and a rustle of something.

“You can open your eyes now. I hope you like it.” Jake’s lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see. Your eyes were delighted by the rolling meadow before you, continuous hills of green that never seemed to have an ending. The bright sun and the singing birds made you think that you had stepped right into paradise, the seclusion of the place convincing you of that fact even more. You looked down and gapped at the enormous crochet blanket that had two large picnic baskets and pillows that surrounded you and Jake. A bouquet of orchids that matched the color of your dresses was perched on your lap and you lifted your hand to graze the flowers. 

“Oh boys! This is beautiful.” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around Jake’s neck and hugging him close. 

A Valentine’s Day picnic was definitely up there on your list of cute things that you’d never thought you would experience. You watch as Jake opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for the both of you before handing you one. You clink your glass with his and take a sip, the floral aroma of the wine tickling your nose and the citrusy flavors bursting on your tongue. You found out that they had filled the picnic baskets to the brim with your favorite snacks and fruits. 

The boys had a system of taking turns and after your first glass of wine had been drained, you found Steven staring at you with a dopey look on his face. 

“Come on, I have something for you.” He said, patting his lap.

“What here? In the open?” your eyes widened slightly.

“Gods, not that genius, lay your head here.” Steven laughed, rolling his eyes.

He pulled out his notebook as you settled your head on his lap, staring up at him. 

“I wrote something for you.” Steven started shyly.

You nodded, encouraging him to go on, excited for what was in store for you.

“I’ve heard stories of angels but never thought they were true, but in seeing you I have become a believer. I only wake up with the dream to see you, to hear the air that is filled with your honeyed voice and to feel the sand that blossoms like flowers at your feet. In your beauty, I perceive life and with you beside me, I recognise myself and sought to follow your shadows. Looking beyond your divine appearance and seeing your soul, I see the true colors of your heart. The moon and white clouds beautifully blend with each other, so who else is there to understand the desires of my heart? My heart is not like yours as it has gone through changes and my reality is confusing, but you’ve managed to create a painting that involves my troubled soul crossing with yours.”

When he finished, you thought that your heart had stopped for a second. The words sunk deep into your skin and stitched your heart from all its sorrows, drowning you in a sea of Steven’s undying love. You were quite frankly speechless from the passage he had read from you, wondering how someone could see you the way that he did.

“Steven, shit, that was beautiful.” Your eyes began to well up with tears as you sat up to capture his lips in a blazing kiss. “You really think of me like this?”

“All the time, my love.” he breathed.

You spent the next few hours just talking to your boys about everything and anything under the sun. Your short attention span and the buzz from the alcohol caused you to jump from one topic to the next like a live wire but the boys just chuckled and jumped along with you. 

“It’ll be so cute to raise children in a place like this, quiet and sweet, away from the bustle of the city, just being ourselves.” you say, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Oh yeah for sure. By the way, remember the tiny police station we passed by? When the children grow up we’ll definitely find them there on a daily basis because the little delinquents will be your children.” Marc said, grinning from ear to ear. 

You hurled a grape at him which bounced off his aviators.

“Fine! Our children, happy?”

“That’s right, our.” you huff, settling back into the pillows.

While you were snacking, Marc pulled his guitar out and started to sing for you. It was your favorite thing in the world, watching Marc’s fingers dance lightly as he strummed the strings, humming to the tune. 

“Howlin’ green, green rocky road,

You promenade in green,

Tell me who you love,

Tell me who you love?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I love you!” you giggle.

His sweet voice envelopes you like a warm blanket. 

“When I go by Baltimore,

Ain't no carpet on my floor,

You come along, and follow me.” 

“I’ll follow you wherever, my love.” You smile as he finishes with a flourish. 

He continued to serenade you until it was Jake’s turn and he shooed you away to explore while he set up everything. You walked around until you spotted a bed of wild daisies, plucking them and making two crowns, one for you and one for Jake. When you got back, Jake had set up paint, brushes and two small sized canvases. 

“Jake! I have a surprise for you, close your eyes please!” You say as you hide the flower crowns behind your back.

As soon as he closed his eyes, you lightly balanced the flowers atop his head of curls, holding a compact mirror in front of him before asking him to open his eyes. 

He squinted at the mirror and smiled radiantly when he noticed the crown on his head. 

“Where's yours?” he asked.

You presented your crown to him and he gently took it from you, placing it on your head and smoothing down your hair, kissing your forehead and nose. 

“Mi reina.” Jake declared as he bowed, making his crown go slightly lopsided, extending his hand for you to take. 

You blushed and took his hand, letting him help you sit down. The both of you then got onto painting. Almost immediately, Jake ditched the brushes and started painting with his fingers, scooping globs of paint and slathering it onto the canvas. You followed suit soon and found it much more fun, layering the paint with your fingers. You stop after a while, watching as Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his lips cutely pursed together. You silently lean over, until you booped Jake’s nose with a tiny bit of blue paint. 

Jake looked at you with wide eyes before crossing his eyes to look at his nose. He blinked twice and you jumped into action leaning over and kissing him dramatically with a big muah. He finally snaps out of his daze and wipes his fingers, pushing the art supplies aside before tackling you. He locks you in his embrace and pins you down with a smirk on his face. He then lowers his lips to yours and returns your kiss with a bigger one that sent you and him into a fit of giggles. 

“I love you so much, all three of you.” you smile up at your boyfriends’ face, your heart feeling totally at ease. 

“We love you too, angel. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

Tagging: @campingwiththecharmings @in-between-the-cafes @mintpurplemnm @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @pakhiya @romanarose @swiggy-needs-mental-help @softieekayy @luc-k-y @lia275 @brekkers-desigirl @kybitchcrystal

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marvel moon knight #moon knight fluff #moon knight x reader #valentines day special #marvel fanfic #marvels moon knight #moon knight imagine #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff #jake lockley fluff #steven grant imagines #marc spector imagines #jake lockley imagines #valentines #love #steven grant smut #jake lockley smut #marc spector smut #moon knight smut #Spotify

[wolviestars]

OMGGGG 🥹🫶🏻

#deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #valentines day #a special poster for valentines day from deadpool and wolverine has been released 💕🌈 #deadpool #“he said yes” #marvel #mcu

[anonymousewrites]

Portal to My Heart Valentine's Day Special 2023

Loki x Reader

            “What’s this?” asked (Y/N), one hand on her hip as she held up the parchment with gold lettering across it.

            Loki looked up from where he was reading on his bed. “You mean me, in my bed?” He smirked. “If you wanted to join me, you just had to ask. I’d never deny such an opportunity.”

            (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “If I wanted to sleep with you, I’d be more forward. Try using your eyes and look at this…scroll I found in my room.”

            Loki stood. “I suspect it’s simply the invitation to the ball this evening.”

            (Y/N) stared at him. “A ball?”

            “Yes.”

            “Tonight?”

            “Yes.”

            (Y/N)’s stare turned to an accusatory glare. “Why didn’t I hear about this earlier?”

            “Because I knew you’d get grumpy because you’re nervous—”

            “I am not nervous,” huffed (Y/N).

            “—so I thought that giving you less time to stress would be helpful,” said Loki.

            “What do I have to be nervous about? I’m beautiful. I’ll look amazing in a gown,” said (Y/N) stubbornly.

            “You will be stunning, of that I have no doubt.” Loki smirked. “But you are afraid to be seen in front of the entire Asgardian Court since you’re not…well, a god or royalty.”

            “Bunch of stuck-up asses like you,” muttered (Y/N).

            Loki chuckled and walked to her side. He took her hand gently. “I assure you, my darling, no one will have anything to say against you. Your language may be coarse—”

            “Watch it.”

            “—but you are as intelligent and deserving of respect as any of them,” said Loki. He smiled at (Y/N). “So, will you go? If you really do not wish to, I shan’t force you, but I’ll be honest, I’d love to spend time with you and show off the goddess of my heart.”

            (Y/N) chewed the inside of her cheek in annoyance as she fell to his flattery. “Can I start a fight if anyone tries anything?”

            “Of course, and I would assist you.” Loki smirked. “In fact, so would Sif and Thor.”

            “Fine, I’ll go,” sighed (Y/N). “But I’m picking my dress.”

            Loki pouted. “But I had so many options in mind.”

            “That’s why. I might as well get a reaction out of you if I’m going to go,” said (Y/N) teasingly.

            Loki groaned. “Darling, must you insist on torturing me?”

            (Y/N) smirked. “But of course, my prince.”

l

            “My lady—I mean, (Y/N), we have pulled several dresses for you as you requested,” said Ilsa, one of the handmaidens appointed to (Y/N).

            As Loki’s girlfriend, (Y/N) was entitled to such hospitality, but she usually just handled things on her own. She requested early on that Ilsa and Karla, the other handmaiden, only attend to her if the manners of Asgard dictated it ((Y/N) wasn’t going to get them fired) or she needed assistance and to called her (Y/N). Tonight was one instance in which (Y/N) required some assistance doing her hair and makeup and, quite possibly, getting on a dress (some of the Asgardian dresses required too much lacing and wrapping for (Y/N) to be able to do it on her own without looking like a mummy).

            “Thank you, Ilsa, Karla,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s no problem,” said Karla. She smiled. “Honestly, we enjoy helping you. You’re kind to us.”

            “And, of course, you know how to style yourself,” said Ilsa.

            Karla nodded in agreement. “Oh, yes, some try too much to follow the fashion of the day and neglect what flatters them best.”

            “You look incredible in everything,” said Ilsa.

            “So we’re determined to help you pick just the right dress to make you look like…heavenly,” said Karla.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad to have you guys here.” She looked at the dresses hanging on a golden rack. “God knows what I would do without your guys’ eyes for fashion.”

            “Well, the final choice is up to you,” said Ilsa.

            “So, what look are you going for?” asked Karla.

            “The traditional ballgown?” asked Ilsa. “The full tulle skirts move with each step you take, like you are resting in a glowing cloud, gliding across the room.”

            “Or perhaps a more modern, Midgardian gown?” offered Karla. “Instead of the full tulle, you have large skirts without the added layering. More classic and elegant, with a slit to allow for movement and a bit of leg.”

            (Y/N) smirked. “What would make Loki go crazy?”

            Ilsa and Karla looked at each other and considered.

            “The gown designed by Lady Freyja,” said Ilsa.

            Karla nodded. “Yes. And the jewelry from her.”

            “Freyja…isn’t she the Norse goddess of beauty?” asked (Y/N).

            “And love, yes,” said Karla.

            “She gifts gowns and jewelry to the couples of court she approves of,” said Ilsa. She smiled. “She must see something with you and Prince Loki.”

            (Y/N) turned a little pink. “Well, what did she send?”

            Karla smiled. “Something that will make Prince Loki go ‘crazy.’”

l

            “Loki, why are you not joining in with the festivities, yet?” said Thor boisterously.

            “I’m waiting for (Y/N) to arrive,” said Loki. His eyes kept trailing to the doors of the ballroom, eagerly anticipating her entrance.

            Thor grinned. “Ah, you await your lovely maiden. Do you know which dress she chose?”

            “She decided to surprise me,” said Loki.

            The doors to the ballroom opened again.

            “Well, here comes your ‘surprise,’ ” said Thor teasingly.

            “The Lady (Y/N),” announced the herald.

            (Y/N) stepped into the room, perfectly poised. She wore a royal blue gown that hugged her body in all the right ways; her figure highlighted elegantly. On top of the azure silk, a black chiffon hung on her body, creating an illusion of shifting colors as she walked. The darky mystery of the dress was further pronounced by the tall golden heels that wrapped up her legs to her knees. Across her collar and down into the deep neckline of the dress lay a golden necklace.

            (Y/N) smirked at Loki’s expression as she approached him. The crowd parted as she walked to the prince. She extended a hand, and he bowed, took it, and kissed the back of her hand. The music struck up again, but the slight stares at the Midgardian continued.

            “Darling, you are simply divine,” murmured Loki, pulling her closer. “I may the god, but I kneel before your beauty.”

            (Y/N) traced the necklace falling into the neckline of her dress teasingly. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have you on your knees later.”

            Loki grinned wildly. “Gladly.” He eyed her appearance again. “I really must send a thank you to whoever designed this dress. It is sublime and was made for the perfect woman.”

            “You can thank Lady Freyja, then,” said (Y/N).

            Loki hummed. “She always had the best taste. Designed dresses for me when I transform into my feminine form.”

            (Y/N) smirked. “Can I request to see you in them?”

            “You already know I’m at your beck and call,” said Loki. “I worship you, darling.” He glanced around with a smirk. “Though I might have to be careful. Others are beginning to see your transcendent beauty.”

            (Y/N) cupped his face. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

            Loki hummed. “How lucky a god I am. I have the love of the most wickedly intelligent and magnificent woman in all the realms.”

            “And how lucky I am, to have earned the love of the handsomest and most cunning person in all the realms.” (Y/N) laced her arms around his neck.

            One of Loki’s arms wound around her waist while the other slightly slid up her exposed leg teasingly. “I love you, (Y/N).”

            “I love you, too, Loki,” murmured (Y/N), kissing him deeply. Loki kissed back passionately before they drew back. “Now, what do you say we dance and you really show me off?”

            “With pleasure,” breathed Loki, smirking.

#portal to my heart #president loki #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki #loki x reader #x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel x reader #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu #valentine's special #valentine's day special #valentines day special #valentine's day #valentine

[joezy27]

HAWKEYE - A Magical Valentines Special !

Marvel SuperHeroes: What The--?!  Episode 48

#Hawkeye #Clint Barton #Mockingbird #Bobbi Morse #Captain America #Steve Rogers #Doctor Strange #Stephen Strange #Marvel SuperHeroes #Valentines Special #Marvel

[marvelrarepairbingo]

Hey! I'm not signed up for the regular bingo but would like to participate in the Valentine's Special. Will you post the cards for everyone on the blog or do I need to sign up to get one? Thanks in advance!! 💖

Hi! Thank you for your inquiry into the Valentine's Day Special Bingo. We were planning on posting the cards to the Bingo page as well as to the Discord, so you could participate in the Special if you like. However, if you wanted your fics to be a part of our bingo community (aka viewed by our awesome and supportive readers), you'd want to tag it with our bingo tags, and if you made a bingo with the V-Day Special cards and wanted to receive a badge for the bingo, you would need to either sign up for the bingo or at least join the Discord and introduce yourself. Thanks again, and I hope that answers your question!

#mrp2022 #marvelrarepairs2022 #marvelrarepairbingo2022 #marvel rare pair bingo #marvel rare pair bingo 2022 #Valentine's Day Special #Valentine's mini bingo event

[notjustjavierpena]

Te Quiero, a Husband!Javier Valentine’s Special

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is for all my readers who have wanted to get an insight into Hubby and Wife’s dynamic, backstory and family life. I hope you enjoy it because I put my heart into this mess of a fic. Thank you @strang3lov3 for always inspiring me, thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for always being a great beta-reader and here’s to @morallyinept who told me to tag her in any V-Day fic I post!l

Summary: Your husband has made big plans for Valentine's Day, beginning with breakfast in bed, but not everything goes as smoothly as expected, and suddenly you are faced with a big surprise. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18, hubby!Javier, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, breastfeeding, playful banter, Chucho makes an appearance!!, siblings being siblings, Javi loving you and his kids, negative feelings about your mom-body, insecurity/comfort, spontaneous sex, pussy eating, (Spanish) dirty talk, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, silly people in love, LOTS of kisses, lots of i love yous, mention of pregnancy and its symptoms    

Word count: 11.7k (i am so sorry)

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53757202

Te Quiero

You open your eyes, reaching to rub them as the door to the bedroom opens by Javier using his shoulder and backing into it. There’s a crease on his forehead, between his furrowed brows, from looking extremely concentrated because he is carrying a wooden tray in his hands. 

Most days you are a heavy sleeper. It is a result of having two children without an understanding of the concept of privacy when it comes to their parents. However, what truly wakes you up is the concerning rustle of utensils, plates, and mugs that your husband is balancing as he nears your shared bed. 

Because Javier has his back to you, you close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep, not wanting to ruin the surprise. The tray is placed on the foot of the bed, and you fight a smile as you hear his footsteps coming around the end of the bed and closer to your side. 

“Buenos días (good morning),” he whispers to you, and you roll onto your back and sit up. Javier stands by the side of the bed and waits. 

Like in a movie, you blink awake slowly and lift your arms up over your head to stretch and yawn. Javier looks at you expectantly, and you catch a glimpse of why your son resembles him so much. They both have that boyish charm, the ability to look excited in the exact same way when waiting for a reaction from you. 

“What’s all this?” You ask with a grin. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi vida (my life),” he says and leans down to initiate a kiss.

“I have bad breath,” you point out.

“I have coffee,” he replies and kisses you anyway, “And today’s crossword puzzle.”

“I knew I married you for a reason,” you scoot to sit back against the headboard. Javier moves to get into bed with you, pulling the covers aside to get under them while you reach for the tray. You place it between the two of you as if you are about to have a picnic in bed. 

“Did you check on Seb?” You ask as you marvel at the breakfast that Javier has put together for the two of you. There are heart-shaped chocolate chip pancakes, an abundance of fresh fruit (including blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, and banana), whipped cream, syrup, and coffee the way you both like it; black without anything more which Javier claims - to this day - is still one of the reasons that he fell for you. 

“Still asleep for now but I suspect he’ll want one of us soon because he can hear us,” he tells you and reaches for his mug after handing you yours. 

“I’ll enjoy this while it lasts then,” you take a sip of coffee, humming at the taste. Then, after putting down your mug, you pop a blueberry into your mouth. 

“I think Lucas has a crush,” Javier tells you in a heartbeat later, smirking into his own cup of coffee. 

You raise a brow in suspicion and surprise, looking at him without turning your head. You swallow down the blueberry and go for the pancakes next, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, he got shy when I asked him if they were making Valentine cards at school today. So I figured something was up because he usually doesn’t get quiet about all those things, you know, he’s touchy-feely,” Javier explains. As he talks, you pour syrup onto the stack of pancakes on your plate, “Inés nearly fell off her chair as she talked about what the school has planned. So yeah, whatever, he’ll tell us if he wants to.”

“Well, perhaps, and hopefully I might add, he’s inherited his dad’s charm as well as his good looks,” you tease, tapping your chin as if you are trying to remember something, “What was it Connie called you? Think it was serial romancer.”

“Hold on, you’ve never told me this,” he pretends to look offended, “When was this?”

“At the bar… just after I laid eyes on you,” you sprinkle fruit on top of your breakfast and wipe your hand on your tank top, “She told me not even to think about it but I knew that I was done for.”

“That damn woman,” he lets out a genuine laugh, “Better tell Steve to keep his lady under control.”

“Connie’s definitely the one keeping her man under control. Just like me,” you smirk, taking a bite that is way too big because your eyes can’t get enough. You groan at the taste. Everything is delicious, so you stuff your mouth and thus don’t have to reply to your husband’s outrage.

“Hey,” he says but you just grin at him, showing off each piece of pancake between your teeth. He sighs but there’s a hint of adoration in his eyes and you know he is fighting a smile, “Charming.”

When you finally swallow, he has dug into his own meal. You eat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company as it is undisturbed by children. 

“Don’t you have work today?” You ask eventually. 

“I told them I was coming in later,” he replies, stabbing a strawberry with his fork, “They can survive without me until 10-ish. They’re gonna have to.”

You glance over at the clock on your nightstand. It is 8:16. There’s still time to enjoy each other’s company, maybe even have a cuddle or something more if you aren’t too full from breakfast. 

Javier has opened the paper now but he hasn’t gotten out a pen yet which means that he isn’t starting the puzzle yet. You continue eating, and meanwhile, conversation flows naturally around subjects like work, kids, and sweet memories. 

Suddenly, in the midst of reminiscing about your first trip out of town together, the light on the baby monitor comes on and Sebastian’s distraught, unhappy cries sound through the speaker. Javier puts down the paper and gets up before you. 

“Do you think he’s hungry?” You ask, already moving to pull your top’s straps down to reveal your breasts. 

“I know he is, that’s how he cries when he is,” he moves towards the door, already talking to his son throughout the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”

“You’re so much better at the parent thing than me,” you try to remember which of your breasts you nursed from last night but you cannot, and therefore resort to feeling for the fuller one. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he leans down to kiss your lips before heading down the hall. You listen and wait, hearing Javier coo at his newborn and causing the cries to turn into hiccups instead. 

After a moment, he returns with Sebastian in his arms. You hold out your own and he carefully hands him over to you. With a grin, you settle your baby into your arms, “Hi, sweetheart. Hi there, baby boy, ooo, you’re hungry, aren’t you? Look at that big mouth you’ve got — Honey, can you get me a cloth?”

You don’t look up but hear Javier leave the room again but only briefly. He comes back and gives you a muslin cloth which you throw over your shoulder, a thing that always makes Javier joke about you looking like - and kind of being - a bartender if that bartender only served milk. 

Sebastian quickly latches on. He closes his eyes as he nurses, and you look longingly at your breakfast as he eats his own. You frown, “It’s getting cold. My coffee too.”

“Just sit back,” your husband reassures, shifting on the bed without making the tray tip over. He cuts a piece of pancake and stabs it with his fork, “Open up.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you smile happily but oblige. 

“You’re literally keeping my kid alive, mi amor (my love). The least I can do is keep you alive as well, fuel you up,” he feeds you with his own mouth slightly agape. It makes you laugh. 

“What?” Javier chuckles in his confusion.

“You look like a fish,” you tease as you giggle, letting Sebastian grab at your index finger, “I’ve never noticed if you look like this too when feeding the kids.”

“Cállate (shut up),” he laughs, consciously avoiding making himself look foolish again as he feeds you another bite. He purposely pokes your nose with the back of your fork to smear the tip with whipped cream, and you respond by looking shocked while laughing. 

“That’s so unfair, I have an actual baby in my arms,” you argue, looking down at Sebastian to give him the run-down on his father’s behavior, “You know, Seb, it’s a good thing I love him so much. Look at this. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“I think you might have deserved that one, baby,” he reasons, “Don’t think I feel bad. Seb agrees.”

“You don’t know that,” you use the muslin cloth to wipe a little milk off of your child’s cheek and then wipe whipped cream off your nose too, “Now, please, feed your starving wife. I feel weaker by the second.” 

“Always the dramatic,” he replies but follows through. 

The teasing dies down after that. You eat whatever Javier gives you whilst you are breastfeeding and Javier eventually finds the crossword in the paper to do it during your quiet morning. 

When Sebastian is done eating, cooing happily, you bend your knees and place him against your thighs. You hold both of his hands, doing a little dance with him whilst your husband reads clues aloud. 

“Another word for radiance, four letters and beginning with g,” he says. 

“Glow,” you reply instantly.

“You’re so much better at the crossword thing than me,” he winks and writes down the remaining letters. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you smile at him and he smiles back. The morning is perfect. 

*

After a cozy morning, Javier has to leave for work. He kisses you and Sebastian goodbye and takes the breakfast tray down into the kitchen with him so you can sleep more if you want to. 

You protest at first - it really hadn’t been your intention - but seeing your baby yawn and coo in your arms makes you sleepy, and you end up on your side with Sebastian on Javier’s side of the bed. He has his arms above his head, face turned towards you and you rest an arm over him whilst you snore lightly. The few hours of sleep you get like this without any interruption are fantastic, boosting your productivity for the rest of the early afternoon. 

You dress casually and wrap Sebastian in a sling, so he can sleep against your chest while you clean up from breakfast, fill and start the dishwasher, and do a round of laundry before having to pick up Lucas and Inés from school. 

However, when you start to get the car keys from their place in the hallway, you hear the door open and the familiar sound of children’s voices filling the house. You can hear the enthusiasm in their voices as they talk to who you assume is your husband but when you turn the corner, you see that it is, in fact, your father-in-law.

“Hello, mija (my daughter),” Chucho says and takes off his hat. He hangs it by all the coats and scarves, “Javier told me to pick up the kiddos.”

You look a little dumbstruck, having been taken completely by surprise but still, you walk over to give him a hug and receive a kiss on the cheek, “Did he say why?”

Chucho kisses Sebastian’s head too, who only coos quietly against your chest. From below, Inés is trying to get your attention. You run a hand over her hair without looking at her, trying to get her to tone down her enthusiasm as you search for answers. Chucho just smiles. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day, sweetie,” he reasons with a gentle smile, “I think he has his reasons. All I know is that I’m not supposed to bring them back here before tomorrow afternoon after school.”

“Abuelo promised that we could get pizza for dinner,” Inés interrupts again. You smile down at her whilst trying to process having a whole twenty-four hours off from being parents. 

“Ain’t you lucky,” you say with a grin. 

Chucho beckons Lucas over who brings his school bag with him, “But first, I think these two have some things to show you. Lucas, c’mere.”

“We made presents!” Inés says and Lucas glares. He frowns at his little sister, placing his backpack by his feet and throwing daggers in her direction.

“Inés, you’re ruining the surprise,” he grumbles despite still digging into the bag. Inés seems unbothered about his irritation, simply joining him to stick her hands into the bag as well. Lucas continues, “Don’t tell Mom what it is.”

You and Chucho watch them, hiding a chuckle as Inés eventually still states that she wants to show her drawing first and Lucas starts groaning. 

“Mom!” He says with exasperation. 

“Ay, Inés, por favor (please),” you say, “Let Lucas share his surprise. It’ll be your turn soon.”

“Mine is for Papá,” she states proudly. 

“She’s just excited, hijito (little son),” you hear your father-in-law say. He puts a calloused hand on Lucas’ shoulder, whispering quietly, “Show your mom your present. Inés’ll be too busy talking to notice.”

It is true. Inés gets a hold of her drawing and spends her time admiring her work, and Chucho is sweet enough to indulge her to give you and your son a moment alone. 

In his very own gentle nature, Lucas finds the card that he has made for you just next to where Chucho had told him to store Inés’ drawing as well. He blushes as he hands it to you, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom.”

You inspect it before opening it; it is a blank card that Lucas has decorated with colorful stickers and glitter, having drawn shapes and patterns along the sides and a big heart in the middle where it says To Mom in his wonky handwriting. 

You open it to reveal a little letter addressed to you. It is framed by another border of glitter:

Dear Mom,

Happy Valentine’s Day! I love you a million billion times around the Earth. You take care of me and Inés and Sebastian. And you always make me happy when you give me a hug. 

Love, Lucas

You find yourself speechless for a moment and out of the corner of your eye, you see the familiar expectant face that Javier sported earlier too. It takes your breath away. 

Carefully, you crouch down with Sebastian still in his sling. It gives you the opportunity to embrace Lucas from the side, hugging him close and kissing his hair repeatedly. You whisper endearments to him, tell him you love him and he gets shy as he reciprocates, using the time to caress Sebastian’s fine hair on top of his head. 

“I love you so much, my Valentine boy,” you say with a soft voice as you pull away, stretching again and running your hand through his dark hair repeatedly. You can feel a few more tears escape your eyes, your heart pinching in your chest from how much love you feel. Could the day become more perfect? You doubt it. 

“Dad asked me about it at breakfast but I was scared of him telling you so it wouldn’t be a surprise because he always does. But then Inés did it anyway…” he grumbles and looks up to see your tears. His eyes widen, “Mom, are you crying?”

“It’s just happy tears, mijo (my son),” you reassure, “Sometimes having babies makes you cry a little more often.”

Lucas seems a little confused by this. You tell him that he’ll understand when he gets older. After all, he only has so many years until hormones will start to rage through his own body. 

Suddenly, the front door opens and closes in the next moment, and Inés giggles loudly as she recognizes the sound of her father’s footsteps. When he enters the kitchen doorway - his steps are way bigger even if Inés is running - he crouches down and opens his arms, “There she is! Mi diablilla (my little devil), how are you?”

Inés throws her arms around her father’s neck, drawing still clutched in her grip to the point where the paper crinkles. You feel like it was a waste of time to try and wipe away your happy tears because the sight makes them well up in your eyes once more. 

“I made you a drawing. Abuelo told me I could give it to you before we go to his house. Did you know we are having pizza tonight? I can have a whole pizza to myself and I want the pizza to have pepperoni,” Inés announces, squealing with delight as Javier wraps his arms around her before stretching to his full height again and picking her up with a dad-groan. He places her on his hip, bumping his nose into her cheek.

“Christ, you get bigger by the second. Pizza? I don’t remember you liking pizza,” Javier teases, walking across the room to the rest of his family. He smiles at his son, reaching out to rub his shoulder with his free hand and winking at him before talking further with babbling Inés, “Hold on, I thought you liked broccoli and spinach the most. Do you really want pepperoni? I think you should get broccoli on your pizza.”

Inés loves it when her father teases her. He’ll act dumb and silly on purpose - her favorite thing a year ago had been whenever he made himself purposely bad at puzzles, and he’d try to piece two corners together -  much to his daughter’s delight. 

“Nooo, ew!” She says with a grin, clinging onto him. 

“She only wants it because I want it,” Lucas says matter-of-factly, still a little frustrated with his little sister. He bounces back and forth on his heels. 

“Then you can have her leftovers, mijo (my son), she never eats a whole pizza anyway” Javier reasons and mouths the last bit of the sentence, moving the hand on his son’s shoulder to put it on the back of his neck. He gently tugs him into his side. Eventually, your son gives in and hugs him around his middle.

“Hi Dad,” he says softly, hugging him tightly even if it’s briefly. 

“Hola,” he smiles. 

“We should get going,” Chucho interrupts gently and reaches for his hat again, “We’ve got a lot of things planned this afternoon. The animals won’t take care of themselves.” 

“My drawing!” Inés yells, squirming in her father’s arms from eagerness and rushing, so much that she nearly smacks the picture into his face. She holds it too close to his eyes so that he has to take it and hold it for her. 

You find yourself tiptoeing up behind them to look at the picture yourself, trying not to distract anyone from what they’re doing. 

It’s a picture of your house. There’s a fire in the chimney but its smoke blows the opposite way of the way that a cloud is raining. She has just started drawing butterflies but they’re as big as the trees in the garden and with multicolored wings. 

In the bottom right corner, she has written I love Daddy but replaced the word love with a heart instead. Underneath is her signature. The S in her name is turning the wrong way but it’s her name nevertheless. 

“This is so good,” Javier says enthusiastically, “Tell me about it. What is it?”

“It’s my house! I drew a lot of butterflies in the garden,” she explains proudly. In the background, you notice that Chucho is carrying bags, which you had no idea were packed, out of the front door. 

“I can see that. You really know how to color. The green one is my favorite,” Javier continues, “Do you want me to put it on the fridge for when you come home tomorrow?” 

Inés nods eagerly. She beams and then turns serious, “Yes! If— if you want to take the rabbit one down that’s okay.”

“Oh, I am gonna miss you, mi vida (my life),” Javier pecks her cheek and she giggles, “So much.”

“It’s only till tomorrow,” you point out with a giggle. 

“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss these rascals,” Javier puts Inés down on the floor again, still holding her drawing and making sure not to crumple it. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, “You too, hijo (son).”

“I love you, Dad,” he says with a shy smile. 

“I love you too, Daddy!” Inés joins in. 

You mimic a wave with Sebastian’s little hand, “I love you too, Papá.”

“Now, now. As much as I love you, say bye to Mom,” he protests, nodding towards his infant son, “Want me to take him?”

“Yes, please,” you say and carefully unwrap Sebastian from his sling. It’s not a difficult transfer, something you have done a million times in the past many years. Sebastian only complains a little, Javier tuts and bounces him and the paper in his hand flaps. 

You hug both of your kids at the same time, kissing them repeatedly on their heads, “I love you very much, my babies. I hope you have a fun time.”

“That’s the car packed,” Chucho announces as he comes back inside, “Come on, kids.”

“Right, I’ll put Seb in his car seat,” Javier replies as Inés and Lucas run to their grandfather’s car. Chucho goes with them to put on their seatbelts. 

“Sebastian is going too?” You tense up. This hasn’t even crossed your mind. 

“It’s just supposed to be us tonight,” Javier says, having put Inés’ drawing on the kitchen counter and already moving towards the front door where the car seat is on top of a cabinet. You hear shuffling around as your husband clicks the safety belt on, and you instinctively follow. 

“We haven’t done that since the summer,” you argue. 

“All the more reason to do it again if it’s been that long,” he responds with a little smile.

“Well, does he have enough milk?” You ask, moving your weight from side to side. 

“More than enough, I packed extra.”

“O-okay.”

Javier leaves the car seat on the floor, steps close to you and cups your face, “He’ll be fine. Just like Inés and Lucas have been in the past. Relax, mi amor, no pasa nada  (my love, it’s okay).” 

“Okay,” you take a deep breath and nod, holding onto one of Javier’s wrists for a moment as you steady yourself. He looks like someone ready to catch you, “Está todo bien (it’s okay).” 

“Now, let’s say goodbye so I can have you to myself, vale?” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you just barely. 

“You have to tell me what you have planned tonight too,” you say and he nods. 

“Claro (of course).”

It takes five minutes to get Sebastian in the car, secure him properly, and wave goodbye to your kids from the driveway. When you cannot see the car anymore, you walk inside and the house gets incredibly quiet after you close the door. The both of you let out a sigh. 

“What now?” You look at Javier questioningly. After all, he is the one who has planned the next 24 hours.

“Honestly? I just want to take a nap,” he finds your hips and steers you closer, linking his arms around your waist. You reach up to rest your palms on his chest, scratching slightly against his shirt. He chuckles, “Do you want to take a nap with me?”

“Just a nap?” You raise a brow. 

“Yes, just a nap,” he confirms with a boyish twinkle in his eyes.

“I’d kill for a nap but only if you tell me what’s happening later. I don’t like surprises,” you remind him when he already starts dragging you by your hand toward the stairs.

Javier waits until the both of you have ascended the stairs before telling you. You don’t say it but there’s a bit of relief following as you thought that he had forgotten what today was, especially because you usually at least get a present from him. He smiles brightly as he speaks, seeming proud that he has managed to keep it a secret from you, “Well, first you are going to wear something nice, a dress, and get all gorgeous for me.”

He continues as you reach the bedroom, toeing off his shoes, “Then at eight, I’m taking you out to dinner at that new place downtown where the portions are fucking tiny and ridiculous.”

“Wait, the gourmet restaurant?” You have let go of his hand to undo the baby wrap, folding it afterward and placing it on your shared dresser, “They’ve been fully booked for months.” 

“Well yeah, and guess whose name is on one of the bookings,” he smirks, crawling onto the bed and waiting for you to follow. 

“You spoil me,” you lay down on your respective sides and turn to face each other. You rest both hands underneath your cheek, grinning at the way that Javier looks so mischievous but suddenly, something in his eyes darkens. 

“What?” You ask.

He reaches out for your waist, “And then when we get home, when you are all giggly from champagne, I am putting a baby in you.”

Your heart skips a beat. All blood in your body goes south. Without thinking, you sling a leg over his body and move closer, “Is that so?”

“Indeed, mi vida (my life),” the hand on your waist goes to rest on top of your thigh. He rubs it once and then twice but doesn’t do anything further, “But not now. Have a nap, wake up, and get pretty for me. You won’t get dick before tonight, lo siento (I’m sorry).”

“Unfair,” you mumble with already closed eyes. 

*

It turns out to be just a nap. You wake a good while longer before Javier, knowing that you need more time than he does to get ready if you want to feel good about going to a fancy restaurant. 

Besides you, your husband continues sleeping soundly. He doesn’t even sense it when the mattress shifts, bed springs creaking a little, as you leave the bed, and you make a mental note to ask him about his day to figure out what on Earth has made him this tired. 

You have a checklist in your head with steps for getting ready to go out. It changes with the details of the event, so you pull out the one that includes what you like to do to look pretty for your husband. However, all the lists always start with a shower. 

The spray is hot and soothing against your skin. You wash your hair and leave in your conditioner while you scrub your body, giving it extra time to work as you top your normal shower routine by shaving your legs. After struggling with balancing your leg against the wall for what has seemed like forever, the last five minutes of your shower are just spent standing underneath the shower head to feel the water cascading down your clean, smooth, and soft skin. 

It takes you twenty-five minutes more to put on lotion, brush your teeth, blow dry your hair, and choose an outfit. When you leave the bathroom to put on your dress, Javier kisses you in the doorway before popping into the shower himself. 

Now the hard part, you think to yourself. The dress you have chosen is from your anniversary a few years ago, consisting of tight red fabric. A part of you knows that it’s a bad idea as soon as you take it off its hanger and start putting it on, stepping into it, and pulling it up over your hips. 

When it hugs your body in a way that feels unfamiliar to you, you step towards the full-body mirror on the bedroom wall with the intention of seeing if it needs any adjustments around your chest and waist. What greets you is not something that you wish to continue looking at but staring into the mirror, you find yourself unable to look away.

A reflection of your post-baby body stares back. You aren’t anymore who you were when you had Lucas, and thus getting back into your usual shape after giving birth to Sebastian has not become a reality despite the pressure from people around you being there. 

There’s not much to say about it except your hips are wider and your stomach protrudes more than it did before. Usually, you haven’t worn a dress before getting down to your pre-pregnancy weight but Javier had made it sound so easy and now, it is so difficult; insecurities whisper in your ear as you try to flatten the fabric in hopes of looking prettier.

However, the scrutiny you put yourself under only intensifies and self-doubt becomes the uninvited guest that insecurity brings to the party. Should you ditch the idea of a dress altogether? You think yes and start to undress again because it’s way too tight around your middle and torso.

When Javier comes back into the bedroom, his hair is still damp and he has put on black underwear. You cannot help feeling the tiniest bit bitter at how well his extra pounds suit him and simply leaves him with a so-called dad-bod. He finds you stepping out of the dress as it has pooled around your feet. You look on the verge of tears at this point, knowing that you are not the woman that he chose to marry ten years ago. 

“¿Que pasó (What happened)?” He is just about to head for the dresser when he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you, noticing immediately the way your shoulders slump when you feel defeated.

You smile at him in the mirror, slightly unsure, when he catches your eyes, and you shift a little on the spot when he goes to stand right behind you.

“What?” You ask.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires once again. 

“Do you think I’m pretty?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and Javier raises a brow. 

“Is this a trick question?” He continues with a smile, “Baby, you are pretty, so pretty. You look incredible. As in, it is actually illegal or should be.”

Your attempt at a smile falters and Javier seems to realize that he has overdone it. You don’t believe him when he goes too head-on with the compliments. 

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you say in frustration and reach up to rub your face, finally turning around to avoid the mirror completely, “My boobs are too big, my thighs and waist too. Nothing looks good on me, especially not a dress.”

“Ay, slow down,” he looks down at your half-naked body and smirks a little. It mostly just makes you want to cover up again, “First of all, your boobs are great.”

You try to laugh but it just sounds painful. Then he finds your eyes again, watches the pout on your face, and tuts when a tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. 

“I’m not beautiful anymore,” you say as if it’s a fact, “I look so different from when you met me.”. 

He wipes the tear away with his thumb, saying your name gently and you find your eyes prickling with more frustrated tears. 

He lets out a soft aww, baby, and steps closer to pull you into his arms, holding you as he lets you whimper quietly and then cry softly into his shoulder. His hands rub up and down your back. He is so warm.

“How about I choose something?” He suggests after a long silence filled with a bunch of silent tears. He pulls back to look you in the face, “You know I have a favorite, and then it won’t be as much pressure if you worry that I won’t like it. Even if that’s bullshit.”

“O-okay,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Okay, baby,” he smiles genuinely and pecks your hair.

He goes to browse through your clothes and you stay by the mirror, still not turning around to look at yourself but instead looking at your feet like a child feeling guilty. It takes a moment for him to find the dress that he refers to as his favorite but when he returns to you, you look up again and are surprised by the one he apparently likes more than all the others.

It’s a navy blue satin dress that you bought last year when you were pregnant with Sebastian, and it quickly became your favorite dress for the summer because it had to be tied just below your breasts and therefore didn’t sit tight around your belly. It has butterfly sleeves and a flowy skirt that is slightly longer in the back and stops right at your knees in the front. It’s a wrap-around too, which means that it shows enough cleavage to make you feel sexy for him and to top it off, holds your breasts in place so you can avoid the annoyance of a bra. 

You don’t know why it didn’t come to mind but you suspect that given how much you wore it last summer, it didn’t feel special enough. However, the fact that Javier likes it so much seems to transform it into the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. 

Javier pulls the dress off its hanger and walks around you. He puts it on you like a coat and then stands in front of you to tie a knot on the front, undoing it and redoing it when he isn’t satisfied with his creation the first time. None of you say anything. None of you feel the need to.

His hands smooth out the fabric in a careful manner, and you suddenly find that Javier making you feel loved is so interchangeable with you feeling beautiful that you don’t have a clue why you had been in tears five minutes earlier.

He helps you into your heels too, lifting your feet one at a time by holding your ankle. The action is so gentle that you forget to breathe, even more so when he stretches to his full height once more and cups your face. 

“Listen to me,” he says and there’s a certain sternness in his voice. Despite this, he doesn’t sound mean or angry, “I don’t ever want you saying these things about yourself again, okay?”

You nod your head as much as you are able to. A whimper wants to escape your lips but you hold it back. 

“You are my wife, mi vida (my life),” he begins, letting his hands smooth over your shoulders and then down your arms until he can hold both of your hands, “I don’t give a shit about what you used to look like, it’s past, it’s not important. Eres tan hermosa (you are so beautiful). Look at the love you pour into our family. You’re the best Momma in the world, patient and kind, and I am in awe of you every day to the point where I can’t stop falling for you in new ways. You make me happy, make it worthwhile to power through at work so I can come home to you and the kids.”

“And you have never looked sexier,” he continues, eyes going down your body to see for himself that he is undoubtedly right. He grabs your hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs, “Your hips, your thighs… You’ve carried my children, for fuck’s sake. Without you, I’m nothing.”

“I mean look at you…” He trails off for a moment, looking down at where his hand is resting on your hip. You cannot help thinking about how warm his strong hand is, radiating comfort throughout your body. He looks lost in his thoughts and licks his lips without thinking. 

“Javi,” you say quietly. 

“Do you understand?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say almost nervously.

But then suddenly, his arms are around your waist and he is pulling you in for a kiss that makes you forget about the dinner reservation, the insecurities, and the time management altogether. You sling your arms around his neck and give in to his lips on yours, following him wherever he goes as he tugs you away from the mirror and towards the bed. 

Before he instructs you to lie down, his hands find the knot on the front of your dress. He undoes it slowly, letting the dress fall open like a satin robe and groaning at the sight of your lack of a bra. He lets his hands go inside the dress, skimming his palms around your waist to pull you close and your head swims from the feeling of his skin on yours. 

“Hermosa (beautiful),” he says, hands going up and cupping the underside of your breasts, You smile shyly, looking down to where he is touching you. Warmth has started to burn low in your belly just like before you fell asleep. 

With newfound bravery, you reach up to peel the dress off of your shoulders. It falls down to your elbows, exposing your chest and tickling your back, until you let it slip off onto the ground in a pool around your feet. Javier looks like he might need someone to tell him to breathe. 

He wraps one arm around your body and reaches behind your thigh with the other to pull your leg up slightly. Allowing him to slip you off your feet, he moves you onto the bed in a swift motion. 

You kick off your heels as soon as you can, crawling back towards the headboard and Javier follows you without having to get undressed. After all, he never got any further because he saw you. You feel like you want to giggle with glee at the fact that you still have this effect on him years later. 

Instinctively, you bend your legs and plant your feet flat on the mattress and without hesitation, Javier crawls between them to look down at you and marvel at the sight. He looks like a child on Christmas Day, hands reaching out to run up your shins, over your knees, and to grope at your thighs. 

“Qué fuerte (unbelievable), are you really my wife?” He muses while rubbing your thighs absentmindedly. You reach for his hands and tug him down to you. 

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love),” you sound drunk on him already, using his own words against him. He is so close to you as he lies on top of you, crushing you so heavenly with his weight.

He kisses you longingly and gently scoops you into his strong arms whilst he does it, holding you flush against himself so you can feel your nipples harden against his chest. When you inhale through your nose to keep the kiss going, his scent fills your nostrils and God, he smells like soap and home.

It takes a minute to move on. You can see how he wants to descend on your body but each time he tries, you want another kiss and he happily indulges you. Like a couple of teenagers, you only stop when both of you have slightly swollen lips and he has a hard-on poking into your thigh. 

“Let’s get these off,” Javier crawls back on the bed with elevated breath, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and you help by lifting your ass off the mattress for a moment. His eyes are glued to your soft, fresh-out-of-the-shower and glowing skin, kissing your ankle as he slips your underwear off your feet and throws it to the side. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he sounds in awe, “Look at you.”

You cannot stop grinning. Even when he lowers himself down on the bed again and gets comfortable between your thighs. 

When he settles, he takes the sight of you in. You can feel your heartbeat in your untouched clit, and it only gets more powerful when Javier looks between your legs as if he is starved. He noses along your knee and then bites your inner thigh, growling under his breath. He moves inwards towards your quivering cunt then finds your eyes just before he dives in, indulges, “Do you know how fucking wet you are for me?”

You do know. It has steadily gotten to the point where you know that when you are going out later, you need to wear a new pair of underwear since the white cotton has probably become see-through and shiny. 

And then his mouth is on you and you throw your head back, nearly breaking your neck and letting out a hah-sound as you stare up at the ceiling.

“You’re so good at that,” you moan, letting your eyes fall shut so nothing can distract you from the way his velvety tongue feels between your legs. It is intense to focus on nothing but the way he can guide it over your clit until your toes start to curl, “Oh my God, baby!”

When he kisses your clit and then sucks on it afterward, you lose your mind. Both of your hands come down to rest on the top of his head and when you feel the first flutters of pleasure that tell you that you are getting closer, you cannot keep your hips still. You move underneath his mouth, pushing your pelvis upward occasionally to let him devour you even further.

He eats you until you are seeping arousal into the bedsheets, pussy aching to be filled and stretched in only the way that his cock can. You twitch, clit pulsing, when his mouth leaves you briefly but you know what is to come - other than you, obviously - so you don’t complain. He does it to concentrate on slipping two fingers inside of you, pressing them upwards toward your g-spot before curling them over and over again. 

His mouth finds your clit again and he is beyond his usual enthusiasm. The hands on his head stop simply resting there. Instead, you thread your fingers through his hair to channel the way you want to scream into something else because oh, mmhm, oh… oh! 

You come on his tongue, shaking like a leaf and with a high-pitched moan that bounces off the walls. Your whole lower body spasms, walls clamping down on Javier’s fingers which still press towards your front wall and make you delirious with pleasure. 

“Fuck!” You cry, “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Javier has pushed himself to his knees to watch you. He replaces his tongue on your clit with his thumb, teasing out the very last twitches of your high by going in circles until you need to yank his wrist away from the overstimulation. 

After a moment, you begin to giggle. Your hand skims over your forehead, holding it there afterward in an almost soothing manner. Javier is looking at you, having wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and is now trying to decipher whether he can move on to something more or if you need a break. 

At no point do either of you think about checking the time. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” you say when you finally get your breath under control. You still feel giggly but instead, it comes out as a soft chuckle as you speak. 

“You make it sound like I don’t do this often,” he crawls closer to you again, and you tell him to come here as he enters your arms. He kisses your neck a few times and then looks up at you, “I go down there quite a lot and often, you know.”

“Yes, yes, like a good boy, I know,” you tease him, reaching for his chin to pull him into a soft and lazy kiss. He tastes like you, and you lose yourselves in each other once more until Javier pulls off his briefs with one hand. He discards them without leaving you for too long, throwing them to whatever spot he had aimed your own underwear at. 

“Need to have you close,” you voice what you long for, having grown needy from seeing him undress completely. The sight of his beautiful cock is enough to get you fired up again, clenching around nothing, “Please.”

You spread your legs even further and Javier lies between them, reaching down to ease his cock inside of you. He enters you slowly and with a shaky breath, the both of you staring down to watch as he disappears inside of your cunt. 

You hold onto his arms, breathing hard and trying to relax as it stings slightly due to his generous girth. The second he bottoms out, you whine feebly as if you have been holding it back and it’s now safe to do so. 

“Lo sé (I know),” he soothes.

“You feel so good,” you babble, “I love you.”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” he bumps your noses together, looking into your eyes as he moves once and then twice. Your mouth falls open in a gasp and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth and kiss you deeply. 

You slide your hands underneath his arms to hug him close, letting them go up along his broad back and each ripple of muscle that flexes as he fucks you until you can clutch onto his shoulders. You rock with him, relishing in the smooth motion of his hips moving back and forth to stretch your cunt open again and again. 

Your fingers dig into his shoulders until your knuckles start to ache. No matter how many times he is with you like this, it will never be enough. It will never be enough because you need him to be this close and connected to you every goddamn day. It’s like a hardcore drug that clouds your brain, like the oxygen that you breathe in daily, like the food and drink necessary to survive. 

Without interrupting him, you move to dig your heels into the back of his legs. With each stroke of his cock inside of you, each roll of his gorgeous hips and pelvis, you can feel the muscles of his calves tightening and relaxing. Your limbs tangling around him allows you to angle him how you want it most, so you mumble something and dig your heels in further. 

Suddenly, his pelvic bone crashes against your clit, and it continues doing so until you know that this is how you are going to come a second time. 

“Oh, just like that,” you let your head fall back into the mattress, “You’re gonna make me— Javi! You’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Is this pussy mine? Esta cosita linda (This pretty little thing)?” He asks with a growl, sounding so sexy that you know he is determined to make your orgasm approach even faster because his thrusts speed up.

“Para toda la vida (for life),” you say breathlessly, panting as you near your crescendo. It only takes a few more strokes against your clit and then you are done for, coming a second time with a sharp intake of breath and then a cry that could disturb the neighbors from whatever they are doing.

He kisses each whimper from your mouth and slows down a little to give you space for you to return to him. However, you know that this isn’t the end. His stamina today is mind-boggling but you don’t complain, instead take what he can give you even if it leaves you sore until the next day.

“You okay?” He asks when you have calmed down. 

You let your arms and legs fall down to your sides with a blissful expression on your face. You nod, reaching up to rub your eyes as you feel deeply sated, “Just give me a moment.” 

“Think you can take anymore?” He pulls out of you to get back onto his knees. You make a noise. On his shoulders, you spot the little crescent marks that your nails have left. 

“We’re making babies, right?” You note.

“Claro (of course),” he snorts. 

“Then you better screw me silly, Mr. Peña,” you shift slightly on the bed to present your spent cunt for him once more but more obscenely this time by reaching down and spreading your lips open. He groans at the sight, especially when you visibly clench around nothing and silently promise him what’s to come.

“Anything for you, Mrs. Peña,” he almost sounds in pain from the desperation to get back inside of you.

The sweet tenderness and romance are put on hold for something dirtier to take their place, Javier moving forward until the front of his thighs touches the back of yours. He pushes inside of you again with a gasp of your name and places his hands on your hips, holding on tightly so he can pound you into the mattress. 

The sound of his skin slamming against yours fills the room along with your moans, and each thrust sends ripples of intense pleasure through your body now that you are so sensitive. You allow yourself the relief of crying out towards the ceiling because, for the next twenty-four hours, you are completely child-free so who cares?

Javier’s eyes burn with desire at your noises. He is so beautiful, mouth hanging slightly open as he pants and his shoulders looking even broader when he hovers above you. And his noises, he is louder than normal too, you realize, with no intention of quieting his moans down either. 

A particular snap of his hips sends you reeling as he nudges your g-spot just right and makes you grip at the sheets. Javier is on you like a hawk and notices immediately the way that his cock has severed connection to your brain for a moment. 

“You like that? You like my cock?” He digs his thumbs into your hip bones, indulging himself by staring down at where his cock pistons in and out of you. His length is sticky with your arousal, “I can tell you like my cock, God, your come is all over me, baby.”

You bite your lower lip, furrow your brows, and nod repeatedly, “Yes… yesyesyes!”

“You’re on fire today, mi amor (my love), makes me wanna come inside of you like I’m meant to,” he spits filthy words as he goes harder, “Think you can give me one more? Make those gorgeous legs shake?”

The comment about your legs makes you bend them to your chest so you can link your arms under your knees. The position makes Javier swear under his breath, and when you squeeze around your calves, he becomes a tighter fit inside of you and a sob escapes you. 

He is the one to look drunk now, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back into his skull in case he misses anything you do while he drives into your pussy in this new position. He moves his hands to place them on the back of your thighs and contort your body slightly. He digs his fingers into the extra pounds there and then fucks you with your shared pleasure in mind. 

The squelch of your cunt is obscene and you almost sound like you’re crying from how he pounds your g-spot. A third high, which started building slowly, approaches so quickly that you squeeze your eyes shut and nearly choke as you scream for him, “Yes, oh my God, yes! I’m—“

“That’s my girl,” he sounds close too, “Get it all over my cock, baby.”

The bliss you feel as you come a third time turns your demeanor from pathetic and whimpering into smiling and giggling instead. You look up at him with hazy eyes while you are grinning, moaning, and coming so hard that Javier cannot stop himself from laughing slightly even if it’s interrupted by his own moans.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous coming for me,” he praises with a shit-eating grin, gasping sharply at reaching his own peak a second later because he just cannot hold back any longer. He pulses inside of you, breeds you until you are filled to the brim, and you can feel some of it spilling out onto the bed sheets. 

Exhausted is not the right word. Your whole body slumps when post-orgasmic bliss hits you and you groan as Javier topples down on top of you as well. You melt together and breathe hard, one big tangle of limbs turning you into an octopus. 

“Definitely didn’t have time for that,” you say eventually.

“Stop being so hot then,” he jokes. He lifts his head to kiss you longingly and you allow yourself to lose yourself in it, again forgetting about the time that’s ticking by. 

As Javier reluctantly tears himself away from you, he casually looks at the clock on the nightstand and gets up so quickly that he needs to find his balance. He seems to realize that you are not just fashionably late but actually really late, “Mierda (shit).”

You check the time too and swear as well. It is twenty minutes to eight, and it takes at least fifteen minutes to drive to the inner city. There’s no way that the two of you are going to make the reservation, and you will just have to hope that they are kind enough to hold onto your table the minutes you are going to be late. 

It seems like you turn into the stars of your own romantic comedy, the only thing missing being the laughing track in the background because you move through the house so quickly that you almost forget to put on underwear after getting cleaned up in the bathroom. The rush doesn’t even give you time to ponder your shape in the mirror again.

By the time you actually leave the house, you are laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and looking disheveled. In fact, you have to stop Javier from getting into your car because his buttons are buttoned unevenly and his collar looks like he’s been out in a storm. 

“Right, fuck, what’s the time?” Javier asks when he slams the car door on his side. 

You look at the car radio’s clock, making a concerned noise, “Hmm… Ten to eight. If you speed a little?”

“I’m law enforcement,” he deadpans. 

“You’re also late for a booking you have had for months,” you argue. 

Javier pulls out of the driveway but despite it all, he still doesn’t speed with the mother of his children in the car. 

However, he does use his badge in the window to get a parking spot close to the restaurant. He pulls it from the glove box and you raise an eyebrow at him, to which he simply tells you to shut up with a tiny glint in his eye. 

Your heels click on the sidewalk as you speedwalk towards the restaurant’s main entrance. Javier holds the door open for you, and for a moment, you actually look like a couple who has it all together and is on a date. 

Despite this, it seems that impromptu sex is apparently not good for new restaurant businesses, even if it starts out innocently with an intention of comforting one’s partner, because your table has already been given to someone else. You can see Javier’s fist tightening into a ball at his side as he is told this. 

The man at the front desk looks unimpressed with your husband’s attempt to make him show you to a table anyway, and you even hear Javier saying that he cannot, in good conscience, let you starve. 

You stand a little behind your husband who quietly fumes because nothing seems to work, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight and many nights ahead. It is Valentine’s Day after all.”

“Yes, I am aware,” he replies with gritted teeth. 

“Honey,” you reach out to put a hand on his arm and he whirls around, only to look a lot more calm the second he finds your gaze, “It’s fine. Come on, we’ll find someplace else.”

“But you’re starving,” he says helplessly. 

“Then let’s not keep this up. I know a place around the corner,” you smile at him, holding out your hand until he gives in and takes it, “Besides, they can keep their tiny portions to themselves.”

It may just be the last remains of what you did half an hour ago but Javier starts snickering while you guide him through the door and out into the evening air. He only manages to walk down the street with you for a few yards before he presses you against a brick wall and kisses you. 

“No,” you scold him playfully and place your palms on his chest, “I don’t care if you’re Laredo’s local hero. You couldn’t get a table so we’re not wasting time by making out in public. Like you said, I am starving.”

“Descarada (cheeky devil),” he pecks your lips but lets go of you, “Fine, lead the way.”

The two of you start walking. The place you have in mind is only a short walk away and it’s a nice night, so you don’t mind. Especially not when you can walk hand-in-hand with Javier the whole way and not have to say a thing.

You end up in front of a food truck that sells tacos. It is the perfect spot for something low-key which makes your whole night seem even funnier now that you are so overdressed. The two of you snicker together as you wait in line, mostly resembling a couple who have escaped a tedious wedding to get junk food. 

“My treat,” he says.

“You better. It’s your fault we’re here,” you tease.

“I think we have different versions of what happened back home,” he winks, “But fine, order whatever you want. Like always.”

You order your food, telling the owner of the food truck to go heavy on the pico de gallo and Javier follows behind with his own order. After paying, you take a step back to let other people buy their food. 

“This is where we had our first date,” he notices, an arm around your waist as you wait for your food. He tightens his grip around you as he speaks, “Where I knew I wanted to marry you, have kids with you.”

“This is not where we had our first date,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, looking at him long enough for him to give you a kiss. 

“Yes it was,” he replies. 

“No, you were drunk and we were heading home from the bar a few blocks from here,” you remind him, “We’d only just met. Connie told me not to follow you.”

“Fuckin’ Connie,” he shakes his head, “No, that was definitely our first date. I don’t care what you say. I just don’t wanna think about the disaster that followed even if you want to call that the first date.”

“You were late and we missed our reservation,” you reminisce, “Just like today.”

“Which is why I am not calling it the first,” he lets go of you as the woman in the truck places your orders on the counter. He hands you yours and then takes his own, “We had food, talked for hours and you were wearing that dress with the bows.”

“No more talk about dresses,” you groan as you walk to find a spot, “You’re making me depressed.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs with a grin, “I knew then.”

“Well, I knew when Connie told me you were forbidden fruit,” you smile back at him, and there’s something strangely comforting about knowing that he follows right behind. 

The food truck's sitting area is right behind it in a cozy nook between two buildings. As disappointed as you were at not getting to try out the new restaurant in town, the picnic tables, and colorful plastic chairs more than make up for it. It is a lot more romantic than what you assume the gourmet restaurant would have been, and you choose a spot right underneath a blanket of string lights that seem to imitate stars. 

There are a few guests aside from you, and you feel warm at hearing their voices filled with laughter and joy. 

You sit down on the bench and tuck your skirt between your knees, getting comfortable and looking excitedly down at your soon-to-be-devoured food. There’s something uniquely satisfying about a greasy meal after sex, and even more so when your husband indulges you to have whatever you want. 

You pick up your taco and bite into it, doing a happy dance as you chew whilst Javier watches you with a grin on his face. However, the happiness is short-lived because something in the taco triggers a wave of nausea and you soon realize that it is the pico de gallo. 

“What is it?” Javier has caught on because you cannot help but grimace. 

“This tastes funny,” you say. Puzzled, you take another bite but quickly stop yourself before you are stupid enough to go for a third. Your stomach growls but there’s no way you are eating the rest without at least scraping it off. 

Carefully, you place the taco back down on its paper tray and take a few napkins from the dispenser on the end of the picnic table. You spit your latest bite out into one of them because your body does not agree with the idea of swallowing the acidity again. Then you take a long sip of your water and wish you had something to neutralize the taste in your mouth.

Without thinking much of it, you start to rid your food of the salsa fresca. You use your index finger to scrape it out onto the napkin and pick any remaining pieces off too, avoiding the natural instinct to suck your finger clean and wipe it on a new napkin instead. In front of you, Javier has stopped eating and simply watches you. 

You feel slightly judged by him, narrowing your eyes from annoyance, “What?”

“Are you pregnant?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“What? No way,” you let out a chuckle of disbelief, “That’s not funny.”

“Honey,” he continues, nodding down at the napkin, “You love pico de gallo.” 

“So? The only times I haven’t eaten it has been when I’m pregna—“ your eyes widen, looking down at your taco for a moment before staring at Javier again. He looks just as alarmed by your food which is only two bites down, “There’s no way.”

Around you, people have started to notice a shift in your voice. It probably sounds like you are upset, like Javier is using Valentine’s Day to break up with you. 

“Baby, there’s no way,” you say again and your voice has become a little higher pitched, “I’d only be five weeks along.”

To the opposite of you, Javier is speechless. He has stopped eating his own dinner, sitting with his own taco but is unable to figure out how to react. 

“We can’t have been lucky the first time around. My period is due in a few days. This is ridiculous. Sebastian is only just about five months old,” you are starting to sound frantic, “Javi. Baby, I am freaking out.”

Javier blinks a few times almost as if he is mentally shaking himself out of his trance. He reaches across the table and takes hold of your wrist, “Calm down. Let’s just finish eating and then we can go get one of those early detection tests, yeah? Te prometo que todo va a salir bien (I promise you that everything is going to be okay).” 

“Yes, alright, you’re right,” you feel instantly calmed by his touch, turning your palm upward so he can hold your hand instead. Then you frown, “But I can’t eat this. It’s probably still going to taste like it.”

“Hold on,” he says, letting go of you to switch plates with you without hesitation, “There, now you can eat.”

“Te quiero (I love you),” you sigh happily, smiling at him from across the table. 

“Love you too, now eat, so you can feed my kid,” he starts to load the taco with pico de gallo again. 

*

The late-night pharmacy, just opening, exudes a subtle but steady hum of activity, bathing in the fluorescent glow of overhead lights. Shelves are neatly lined with pharmaceuticals, and you scrunch up your nose at the faint scent of antiseptic. Javier keeps a hand on the small of your back the whole time, steering you gently toward the counter as if this new piece of information has made him instantly more protective.

There’s only a single pharmacist behind the counter, a middle-aged woman with her glasses around her neck in a chain, but she doesn’t blink when you explain your sudden emergency. She beckons you down along the aisles and grabs a few different pregnancy tests for you to choose from. 

“This one is more certain but it does cost a little extra,” she explains and holds up a Clearblue digital test. Javier quickly exchanges a look with you. 

“We’ll take that one, actually make it two,” you say, tapping your feet nervously on the floor, “Can I use the bathroom here?” 

“We’re that eager?” She smiles, “Sure, dear. Let me just get the key.”

Javier pays at the counter, a twinkle in his eyes as he makes a joke, “My treat again.”

“You better; you’re the one who got us into this mess - again,” you giggle and it even earns you a chuckle from the pharmacist. 

“I hope you get the result you are hoping for,” she says when unlocking the door to the staff toilet. She ushers you both inside the door and then closes it behind you.

Silence at last, you think to yourself and even find that the water you drank with your meal earlier has run right through you. You pull up your skirt, twisting it and tying a knot to keep it from falling down again. You go for your underwear next, bending over to pull them down your legs to your ankles. You feel Javier’s palm steadying you without thinking.

Besides you, Javier starts tearing open the Clearblue boxes. He hands them to you one by one, and you finally sit down to pee, angling your wrist awkwardly to make sure you use the sticks correctly. The both of you stay silent through the whole ordeal.

You wrap both pregnancy tests in toilet paper and hand them to Javier who places them on the edge of the sink so you can finish up and get dressed again. He takes a step to the side to let you wash your hands, having crossed his arms over his chest and started tapping his fingers nervously.

While you listen to the sound of the water running, the air in the tiny, poorly lit bathroom seems to hang thick with anticipation. You want to say something but there is nothing you can say that’ll ease your shared, anxious heartbeat. Eventually, Javier beats you to it.

“Don’t be disappointed if it’s negative,” he gives you an uncertain smile. Mostly, it sounds as if he is talking to himself. 

“You know I will be,” you sigh, stepping close to link your arms around his neck. He nods in understanding, cupping your waist and rubbing soothingly with his thumbs.

“Me too,” he lets out a shaky breath.

“I know,” you automatically tighten your grip on him as the minutes go by, knowing that he needs it as much as you. On the sink, the white plastic sticks seem to mock you with their silence. 

Come on… 

A few minutes more and suddenly, you know there is no way back. It seems ridiculous that a stick with your pee on it has the ability to predict your future but here you are. You shake your head after untangling yourself from your husband, “I can’t look.”

Javier bravely takes them from their place on the sink. Your stomach does somersaults as he unwraps them, twisting them so their displays face upward. A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face and he looks up immediately, “You’re four to five weeks pregnant.”

“What?” You grab his wrist to take a look for yourself, “There’s no way!”

Sure enough, both displays show a positive result and an approximate number of weeks. Calculating in your head, you know it has to be that one time in the middle of the night in January. The thought of getting it right without even really having begun is crazy because it’s so unbelievable. 

“That’s so surreal,” you walk straight into his arms. He hugs you tightly, resting his lips on your forehead and you can feel his elevated breathing because you are so close to him. 

“Pop is going to have a heart attack,” he mumbles with slight amusement, although you can hear the tremor in his voice. You look into his eyes, reaching up to cup his cheek and smiling softly.

“We can’t tell anyone yet, it’s not been three months,” you say, lost in just staring at him. He is so beautiful when he is happy. 

“God, I know, I'm just so excited,” he chuckles, a little embarrassed. 

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out that it’s going to be a Halloween baby,” you grin. 

“Oh fuck, forget about Pop; Inés is gonna get so pissed if she has to share Halloween with a birthday child,” he starts to laugh after he has said it. You join in, high on the happiness you feel.

“I love you so much,” you say when the laughter dies down. 

“I love you too,” he kisses you after saying it. 

“And happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you continue, letting Javier pull away to throw the pregnancy tests out and wash his hands. 

“See? Now you’re using it right,” he teases after drying his hands. 

Then he opens the door and waits for you to step outside. Everything seems possible tonight.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi p #javi peña #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena one shot #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javi p x reader #javier pena x y/n #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #my writing #husband!javi #narcos fanfiction #narcos

[privitivium]

Eating mom bf ass for valentines…yeah…yum

based. pleasedont mind that this is 3 days after... ahemhrmhrm.m.. ramble/ideas at the beginning sorry for any mistakes ekkeke

valentines day with motherly bf!

cw;; face sitting ( mother...), overstimulation..... both giving.

motherly yan is definitely the type to go all out on every holiday... making up for your childhood if you didnt quite get to do that sort of thing... how im imagining this is ,,,, you coming home from work to see him bustling around the house - all dressed up nice with his assets on display in some lacy maroon apparel ; red decorations of all shades strewn about in a simplistic fashion along the interior of ur home.. and when you move further in, admiring the house.. on the island of the kitchen is full of baskets of goodies and balloons... not necessarily candy, maybe just necessities or just trinkets you like... mother getting you a whole ass new wardrobe just for valentines day bro. spoils you to hell. so obviously... you pull him away from trying to clean up "last-minute" and take a moment to marvel his body; pressing him against the counter gently... revelling in the way he squirms underneath your touch - too overwhelmed with making sure everything is absolutely perfect for you, a sight you've rarely seen - him so stoic yet fidgety with stress. so obviously you have to make it up to mother.. after all he was slaving away, making your home all pretty for you to marvel at... that deserves some praise.

smotheirng mother in kisses, telling him how beautiful he looks - and all for you? keeping your arms wrapped around him awkwardly even as you walk him to the bedroom... fooling around before you demand him to sit on your face. mother being iffy because yeah hes so much bigger than you but of course he sits his pretty little ass right smack dab on ur face just like you ask - gripping onto your hair and as your long tongue reaches into him - every so often sucking on his balls as you finger him.... digits working together with your muscle; prodding at his prostate and rubbing along his gummy walls, scissoring him so you can pull him deeper onto you, wanting his full weight to fucking suffocate you - anything for you, its your special day..

*our, you would correct, voice muffled by his cheeks.. completely unconcerned with his balls in your face; rather much welcoming.. or having him lay sprawled out on the bed, still dressed in ur work clothes you couldnt bother to take off because you were too caught up in ravaging your lovely darling lover who dressed up so beautiful for you. tits on display, cock hanging out and dribbling pre.. he was as excited as you! but his expression doesnt outwardly show it as his love muscle does. "ma.. you.. taste so good...." after sucking his cock.. jerking off his softening messy cock while tonguing around his finger fucked taint. it's all about him, but he'd protest.. wanting to give you some form of pleasure - but you'd simply continue jerking him off while rimming him, no response to his soft plea. this is your pleasure! grinding against the bed to stimulate your erection in your stupidly tight workpants... augajghh

;; ".. my sweet boy..." he murmurs, a whimpering mess as his head tosses and turns against the pillows, hair splayed out so prettily you wish you had a polaroid camera on hand to snap a few shots as material to jerk off toㅡ"yeaah.. yeah, that's right. your sweet boy." you snicker breathlessly, ghosting over his sensitive sack and fluttering hole,,, tongue dipping inward, circling around his entrance before burying your face in the perineum and shoving your tongue deeper. sucking dutifully and relishing in the way his thighs instinctively close around your head; pulling you deeper into his sensitive bits... unable to hold yourself over, humping into the bed while tonguing him out; kissing around his taint before kissing him directly, feeling on his squishy thighs.. fingering him, as your lips make their way upwards... licking along his sack, sliding along the underside of his leaky cock. "so beautiful. you're .. just so beautiful, mother.." your voice. So heartfelt and emotional .. shaky.. while sucking and kissing on his cock. mother.. unable to contain himself as his lower intestines coil - taint fluttering around your scissoring fingers prodding against his prostate,, orgasming hard with a soft moan of your name. getting you messy.. he'd apologize profusely, but you would wave him off to say;; mother it's okay... you're tasty. let me take care of you.

#motherly yan! #male reader #x male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere m x m reader #sub bottom male character #sub male character...... #bottom male character !!!

[sytoran]

𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

howdy, thanks for dropping by :)

✦ this blog is intended for sapphics, men dni

✦ what i write: sub!marvel women x dom!reader

✦ most works contain smut. 18+ only. blank/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked

✦ hate anons/asks that make me uncomfortable will be blocked

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

#sytoran speaks - for when i answer inbox asks, or post rambles.

#sytoran's fic recs - for other writers' fanfics i reblog.

#sytoran's incorrect quotes - for my unfunny marvel quotes.

read this tutorial if you want to read my fics with 'mature' community labels! | my AO3

requests: closed | taglists are discontinued

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

4k followers celebration

the christmas chronicles

kinktober 2023 masterlist

2k followers celebration

valentines' special 2023

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅

SERIES:

pretty in pink

Adopting a hybrid bunny girl becomes one of the best decisions you've ever made in your life. Despite the blurred lines that form in your relationship, you wouldn't trade anything in the world for your sweet angel that is Wanda Maximoff.

the excellence of misfortune

Moving into Westview to escape the demons that chase you, there you meet Wanda Maximoff, a married woman who's looking for the same kind of escapism. Where one seeks order and the other seeks thrill, maybe you can show each other a little neighbourly support, and perhaps, find the excellence of misfortune.

ONESHOTS:

spooky scary skeletons the one where you're ghostface and wanda maximoff is your next victim.

nsfw alphabet your sex life with your girlfriend, told through snapshots of the alphabet.

the pirate and the mermaid in the midst of a voyage, a notorious pirate stumbles upon a pretty little mermaid.

arabella as a writer, your love for wanda transcends the boundaries of words.

medicine after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed.

doctor's orders barbie!wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

babysitter duty | pt.2 the mom of the kids you babysit is extremely hot.

kick a ball, score a hot mom wanda's sons have soccer practice, while she spends some time with their young and ridiculously good-looking coach in the equipment closet.

extra credit the one where professor maximoff promises you extra credit if you make her squirt, and you're a fast learner.

taunt the several times wanda scrunches her nose at you.

god, you're insatiable a formal work party gone wrong when wanda's co-workers get a little too close to you.

giddyup in which you wake up to your girlfriend riding on your abs.

boudoir photography the finals assignment where your top student submits her nudes.

heat waves omegaverse - the one where an omega wanda in heat goes to the bar to find some relief, and meets the alpha bartender.

study break in which straight A student wanda maximoff studies with the school's jock and jerk, you.

rockin' around the christmas tree in which "rockin'" is a euphemism for sex.

'tis the season to be horny making gingerbread houses with your horny girlfriend.

last christmas | pt.2 the one where you reunite with your toxic ex on christmas.

i'm (c)reaming of a white christmas when they said 'white christmas', you thought it meant being covered in snow, certainly not...... this.

all i want for christmas is you (to fuck me] the only thing on wanda's wishlist is you.

slow hands | pt.2 college au where you had always thought wanda was out of your league, until that night at tony stark's party.

DRABBLES:

babygirl wanda

more babygirl wanda

babygirl model wanda

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

SERIES:

home is where the heart is

In which your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)

my divine goddess

After saving a mystical cat from a deathly experience, you're hauled into the world of Gods and Goddesses with one wish to get whatever it is you desire. Turns out, all you crave is the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff. Steamy entanglements turn into love-filled confessions, but the two of you were star-crossed from the very start.

ONESHOTS:

mile high club on a plane ride to dubai for a romantic getaway, natasha takes matters into her own hands, and your cock into her own mouth. (oops?)

arsonist's lullabye natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player.

mechanic jacks and jacked mechanics natasha's car breaks down in the dead of the night, and an unbelievably sexy mechanic shows up to fix her right up.

let me fuck your tits? your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately, but it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you just wanna fuck her tits.

i wanna be yours despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast... and gets a lot more than what she bargained for.

widow's web natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file by seducing a high-ranking executive goes a little too smoothly, and she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.

break the rules when visiting the strip club downtown with your co-workers, you catch the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.

obsession, possesion! your roomate's an innocent little thing, the prettiest girl on campus, whose boobs you're a little too obsessed with.

office hours | pt.2 natasha romanoff is your new secretary, and she's ready to help you with your every need.

DRABBLES:

natasha plays a prank

━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 fics

ONESHOTS:

if god forbid (Peggy Carter x Gn!Reader) you're eating your wife out under her office desk as she speaks to - or at least, attempts to speak to - her military soldiers.

the super soldier theory (Wandanat x Amab!Reader) being a supersoldier had its perks, like getting to fuck the black widow and scarlet witch on a mission.

DRABBLES:

subby!agatha

possesive wandanat

© 𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍 2024 ━ do not copy, edit or translate my works

#marvel women #marvel smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #gxg smut #wlw smut #women of marvel #wanda maximoff #my works #marvel #x reader #masterlist #marvel masterlist #wandanat x reader #kate bishop x reader #peggy carter x reader #sytoran's big list of things #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff smut #agatha harkness x reader #pretty in pink #goddess natasha #teom series #⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is

[farfromstrange]

Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 2 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.

Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!

You are not made for white-veil occasions. 

While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.

When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you. 

You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc. 

She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.

You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on. 

You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.

Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips. 

Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders. 

She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it. 

“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly. 

“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”

With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?” 

Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”

You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing. 

When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with. 

Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you. 

Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—

“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim. 

He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself. 

Fuck. Me. 

You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right. 

“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning. 

He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.

Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.

Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.

His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.

This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin. 

You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.

And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.

Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”

“Here in New York?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”

“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”

His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.

Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set. 

“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”

“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts. 

“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”

She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”

There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.

To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.

“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.

His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.

Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”

Words elude you. 

“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him. 

You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”

That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.

Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”

A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.

Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her. 

“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.

You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.

“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath. 

“Shots have been fired,” he says.

“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”

“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”

Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”

This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.

He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”

He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.

Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.

Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants. 

An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.

You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company. 

Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?

You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic. 

He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.

After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin. 

At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.

“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.

You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”

“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”

“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”

“More like life in general.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.

“And you’re not?”

He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for. 

“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.

Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.” 

The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—

He did.

He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.

You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.

“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.

He frowns. “Do what?”

“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips.  

“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.

You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.

“That’s also been known to happen.”

“What, being cheeky with—”

“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”

“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”

With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say. 

Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”

“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”

“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”

“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”

“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.

The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”

“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.

The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt. 

Fuck this.

“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”

One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know. 

Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway. 

His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you. 

His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?” 

You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features. 

Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.

You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”

He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.

Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him. 

He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.

You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him. 

You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care. 

Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.

He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth. 

His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.

“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.

The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds. 

You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop. 

His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say. 

He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“Regret coming home with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”

And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #reader insert #lizzi’s vault #charlie cox

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Title: Don’t Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Warnings: Daddy kink, pet name (Sweets), praise kink (slightly), ass worship, butt plug, anal fingering, first time *romantic* anal, creampie

A/N: Based on this poll, Steve Rogers won. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge (Eros-sexual passion). Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Spotify Playlist

My Masterlist

His fingers glide across the skin of your shoulder blade as sunlight cascades over your beautiful brown skin while you sleep on your stomach. He marvels at how you seem to glow in the rays of the morning sun. Leaning in, he places a chaste kiss on your lips, trying his best to wake you gently.

You grumble, the weight of his kiss just enough to pull you from a deep slumber. 

“What was that, Sweets?” Steve’s sultry baritone invades your consciousness and you open your eyes.

“I said, ‘five more minutes’,” you plead, pouting up at Steve and hoping he would give you a break after seeing your tired eyes.

No such luck.

“Nice try, Sweets. You know what today is, right?” he asks, peppering kisses to the top of your bonnet-covered hair.

“It’s...Wednesday?” you guess, trying your best to get back to REM sleep.

“Yes, technically, it is Wednesday. It’s also…” he trails off, waiting for the pieces to click into place in your mind.

You lift your head, locking eyes with Steve. For three whole seconds, you just look at him with a confused expression on your face until it hits you. “It’s Valentine’s Day!” you chuckle, and playfully swat at him.

“Now, she’s cooking with gas. I thought it was gonna take you all day to figure it out,” he jokes, laughing as you roll your eyes at him.

You turn around in bed and swing your legs over the edge. Reaching up to untie your hair, your braids cascade down your back. Peeking over your shoulder, you catch Steve watching you while one of his hands runs through his golden tresses.

“Caught ya looking, Daddy,” you tease before standing and walking around the bed to his side. He reaches out to touch you, but you pull back at the last second. “Unh-uh! Not until tonight. I got something special planned for you.”

“Something special, huh? Well, I can’t wait. But I guess I will have to, won’t I?” he guesses, standing up from the bed to tower over you. He lifts his hands in surrender after you point a manicured finger at him. “Hands to myself, I promise. For now,” he flirts, walking around you to go into the bathroom to shower.

While Steve is in the shower, you mentally run down your checklist of things for tonight. Your new pink glass buttplug, check! New red lace lingerie, check! You had everything planned down to the last detail and you were very excited to see Steve’s reaction. Now, all that was left was to get everything ready while Steve was away for the day.

Steve comes back to your darkened apartment that night, surprised to see a trail of red rose petals and vanilla-scented tea lights leading him to the bedroom. He stoops down to grab the card that was left near the door.

‘Daddy, 

Come and unwrap your present.

-Sweets’

Making his way along the petaled path, he reaches your slightly ajar bedroom door. Pushing it open, he is greeted by you kneeling in the center of the bed. A red rose hairclip holds the right side of your braids back, and the red lace bodysuit you wear hugs all of your curves perfectly.

You take in the way Steve looks at you like you hung the moon. His ocean eyes darken as he takes in your scent, your favorite perfume lingering in the air. 

“Hi, Daddy. Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, making your way to where Steve stands at the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you join me? You can put these big, strong hands to use,” you slide your arms around his neck and instinctually, his hands go to your waist.

Leaning down to claim your lips, he doesn’t hold back teasing his tongue along the seam of your mouth. Once you let him in, he takes control of the kiss. Swallowing down your whimpers and moans, he cups the back of your head and nibbles your bottom lip.

Breaking the kiss, he laughs lowly when you try and follow his lips. “I think I was promised a gift, Sweets. Now, what might that be?” he muses, his fingertips moving along the red lace until he comes upon a pebbled nipple.

You take his hand and guide it to where the gusset of your bodysuit would be, now drenched with your slick. You nod and he explores your soft folds through the crotchless lace. He knows how to play you like a damn fiddle. Gathering your moisture and applying just the right amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves.

Within moments, he has your legs weak while he gives your clit some much-needed attention. His other hand goes to your chin so that you look up at him as he brings you over the edge. You fight to keep your eyes open as the chains of orgasm are broken, your throbbing pussy creaming his hand.

“Such a good girl for me. God, you’re perfect, Sweets,” he praises, still unaware of what you have in store for him as he takes off his tie and goes to unbutton his shirt.

“Daddy, I have a surprise for you. I’ve been working all day long on it,” you chime in, biting your lip as you cup Steve’s erection through his slacks.

“You go ahead and show me that surprise, now,” he encourages, watching intently as you turn around and present yourself to him with your ass in the air. His hand goes to your hip, slowly moving toward your ample backside. Groping your ass, he finds something he had hinted at only weeks ago. “Oh, fuck. Look at this adorable little plug. Have you been wearing this all day, Sweets?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ve been stretched around it all day long. I wanted you to have something no one has had before. It’s all yours,” you say, wiggling your hips to show off your toy.

“You are such a good girl for wearing it all day,” he murmurs, taking the lube that was delicately placed on the bed earlier by you. Dripping the liquid between your cheeks, he spreads it generously around your plump globes. He lays a few slaps to each cheek and moves some of the lube between your cheeks to tease the toy in and out of you slightly.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, growing ever so impatient now that Steve is teasing you.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Sweets. Let’s just get this pretty plug out of here,” he purrs, pulling out the toy and watching as your hole tightens up a bit. He uses one finger to explore you, graduating to two and three fingers when you take him in so well. Soon, the wet squelch of lube as he fingers you is the loudest sound in the room, even over your moans. 

With three fingers inside you, Steve uses the other hand to unzip his pants. Pulling out his red, weeping dick, he squeezes the base and coats it in the excess lube that has accumulated. Lining up to your opening, he pushes in slowly until you engulf his tip. The hard part is over as he slides into the hilt.

He waits until you start to wriggle under his hands to begin a languid pace, slow as molasses in January. Your hand snakes down to your forgotten pussy, shiny and slick with a mixture of your arousal and lubricant. Your fingers stimulate your clit as Steve takes you apart from the inside.

You’ve never felt so fully taken before, the stretch of his massive member adding to the sacred friction. As soon as your fingers take you over the edge, you notice how intense this orgasm is. You moan into the bedsheets as your cunt shudders and your asshole clamps down around Steve.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl. That felt so fucking good, Sweets. Don’t think I can last much longer with you coming so hard on my dick like that,” he ponders aloud, quickening his pace to chase his release.

As he pounds into you from behind, he reaches around to finger your pussy while his palm rubs your sweet spot. When he can sense you getting closer and closer to the edge, he pulls his fingers from inside you and plays with your clit.

“Be my good girl and cum with me, Sweets. Fuck, I can feel it right now. You ready for it baby?” he persuades, fucking into you while you moan non-stop. 

“Yes, please. I’m ready for your cum, Daddy,” you cry out, your climax pulling you over the edge, tumbling straight into Steve’s release. You can feel every spurt of spunk painting your delicate inner walls while he throbs inside you.

Coming down, he lets his deflating length slip out and directs you to lie down before climbing on the bed next to you. Wrapping you up in his arms, he kisses your forehead and isn’t surprised when he soon hears the soft snores escaping you.

He’s more than content to wait to give you his gift. He smiles, remembering the velvet box in his suit jacket pocket in the other room. He can wait a bit longer to hear you say yes.

A/N: Alright, well, I haven’t written for Steve Rogers in over 12 years. I hope this was good. I would love to hear what y’all think. The title is taken from ‘Rocket’ by Beyoncé.

**Tag List**

@ronearoundblindly

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers x black!reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #x black plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x black reader #chris evans #chris evans characters #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #captain america x reader #steve rogers x female reader #captain america fanfiction

[anantaru]

SFW VALENTINES DAY HEADCANONS ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡ !

⋆⑅˚₊ including diluc, thoma, kazuha, childe x gn! reader !! — ‧₊˚ ⋅ genre — ‧₊˚✧ fluff, crack, so so soft and sweet, lots of love, cuddling, kissing and all that sweet stuff ♡ ˚ ⋅ event mlist.

⋆⑅˚₊ — DILUC

to the casual eye, diluc gave the impression away to be through and through engrossed and unhurried on his preparations for valentines day to come— it's as if he had a bullet proof plan which he wanted to pursue.

over and above that, he had a habit of wanting to be the host of your celebrations, though you were cordially trying to contribute to the preparations, he had assured you that there wasn't a better way to show you how hopelessly he fell in love with you.

while, well, once you look past the facade he had built in order to fool you, in reality he has been awfully jittery as to what to do, you see, in his own opinion he wasn't the most comical person to be around with, diluc was still unsure on how he garnered you as his significant other in the first place.

sometimes he couldn't understand what made him so special.

you on the other hand did not see him as such, you didn't expect him to change as a person and never wanted him to, ever. your diluc, the man you fell in love with, was a little more reserved— aloof and tends to keep his real emotions hidden to himself and only shares such with people he deemed close to him.

valentines day for you is to be both present and transparent, though he consistently jubilated it with a grand evening fronted to your relationship and to center on what you managed to built over the last year, by the same token it's about being here, together, lastingly in love with each other.

on this fine evening, diluc would host a candle light dinner at his own big mansion, only the best of the best would be bestowed to the table and brought to view towards your person.

in the thick shadows of good beverages (no alcohol, you didn't mind since diluc himself wasn't a big fan of it) and a benevolent composition of close selected music, you had dined away matted by a closed vicinity.

though by the end of it, once the main course was over, you had chosen to take a walk around the imposing mansion, within the confines of the candied scent of afresh ripened grapes, the frigit air winging through your clothes with his large hand snugly situated on top of your lower back.

in his feeling of judgment, you were marvelous— stunning under the forthcoming moon and so very kind, he couldn't wait to spend more of his years with you by his side.

and when diluc turns towards your frame to look at you, you daintily rend him by his belt to have him nigh— he wasn't one to initiate seclusion first and you do not need him to do it, all the greater did you not mind to kiss him yourself, which you then, did.

his calm— yet stepwise inflating breathing, was vaguely lingering around your soft lips as he pulled away, complemented by a possess of his nervous puffs, he's signifying out his words more gently to you when he speaks with a humane red tint on his cheeks.

"happy valentines day, love." and when you smile, he‘s smiling too, because diluc was happy, he didn‘t need more when he had you, "and to many more valentines days to come."

⋆⑅˚₊ — THOMA

in response to thoma, he in all instances, made it a habit of alternating things up each year, effectively, he sought after making it to be as fun and appealing as achievable.

unmistakably for this year you had agreed to participate in gifting each other a present from heart, no expensive jewelry, no exorbitant dinners, no glamorous travels— with this you wanted to show your love in a more personal way. ( .. and your budget was limited)

on the topic of his idea, thoma had actively pondered and mulled about your joyous present for undeviating weeks. on a mini sheet he had written down all the urgent utensils he'd require with the intension of endowing you the most immaculate gift within the bounds of possibility.

first and foremost, he was in countless vital— no pivotal, life changing, conversations with both ayato and ayaka, to that, repeatedly, week in week out. Unmistakably, thoma was aware that he knew you the absolute most, but in spite of that it's unfailingly smart to set aside more ideas.

... well lets say ayato's were, within limits but concerning, yet ayaka genuinely assisted and supported him as much as she could.

when he finished all that, thoma started preparing the gift, the most important part.

initially, he attentively cut out an assortment of little paper sheets where he planned to keenly scribble down all the things he loved about you— doesn't matter what it was and how seemingly gratuitous it was, he put it down.

thoma's eyes were deeply fixed with a bright, earnest tone and on top of that, he now couldn't stop thinking about you, archons, despite the fact it had dreadfully deflected his attention away.

but just a little— a puny treacly thought about how you'd look at him once he's giving you the present, would you like it?

his thought process behind it was cute; given that he has been engrossed with his work at the kamisato estate for the most part, he imagined that if you were to miss him, you could always open one of the little papers and feel at least, a little bit closer to him.

he worked on it all night and by the end of it his hands were deeply hurting and tense from the— take paper, write something down, fold paper, put it in the jar.

speaking of the jar in question, because you had agreed upon spending as little mora as possible, he used an empty pot which had previously jam in it (he personally thought it's a fun little detail) and adequately cleaned it up, silently removed the cover and replaced it with a small cloth— that had a silvery red string securely embedded around it.

eventually, when valentines day idly neared its designated date, the finalized present had been given to you. With a quizzical utterance you peered at the little jar in your palms— honestly all clueless about it, but then you paid attention to thoma, thrillingly swaying in his footing from left to right, he was undoubtedly enlivened and couldn't wait for you to open it, beaming with forged anticipation.

together you were sitting on the cushy couch when you earnestly slipped the silver red string down, looking into the jar, you spoke to him when a hurried realization hit you, "isn't that jar from our kitchen?" he impatiently nods in agreement, unduly proud.

thoma was rather cute, so considerably sweet to you, you couldn't wait to spend more time with him in the future.

when you gaped into the jar, you got greeted by the engaging stickers, listlessly you progressed to take one in between your finger pads, rolling it open in front of him.

your attention was drawn towards the first out of many, 'i love you because ...' and you offered thoma a little embarrassed smile, you were glowing at the compliment, truly, your chest was bubbling with excitement as you fell into his arms, gently kissing his cheeks, once twice, before telling him just how happy he made you.

⋆⑅˚₊ — KAZUHA

what does someone do if they had immediate access to an entire ship, with a teeming fleet, geared up to be operated for their own disposal? evidently, they will use it.

as a result, kazuha had queried (and begged) for captain beidou's approval and to be of help in his personal valentines day plan for this year.

taking into account that he has been into copious amount of places beforehand, it was only natural that this time, kazuha longed to take you with him and enjoy the upcoming special day together in another nation.

while inazuma had its own assets and perquisites, kazuha had ultimately decided to chose mondstadt as your designated nation to be.

you were unquestionably delighted by the idea the second he had presented it in front of you, additionally beidou spoke her blessing to your trip and aided to your enthralling expedition as much as she possibly was able to.

the traveling on its own had been a little strenuous, those two striking nations weren't as close as you thought they were, as one would expect time was passing leisurely when you had arrived after a considerable amount of your spendings on sea.

now, well, there you were— sweetly greeted by the aroma of dandelion wine, the honeyed scent of sweets and candy with the incalculable amount of music reverberating within the broad walls of mondstadt.

while there were many absorbing shops and compelling places to explore— which you had promised each other to do after valentines day, instead you settled to visit starsnatch cliff, undeniably was it one of the most beguiling, fetching spots a myriad of pairs would find themselves in.

while most couples headed home after night fell— along with how cold it had gotten on top of the cliff, kazuha and you weren't going anywhere, not when you journeyed for such a long time.

to speak on how absorbed you were in each others intimate squeeze and how— almost cruelly, slow his lips moved on you when he decided to kiss you, had been all the more impassioned than you imaged it to be.

indisputably it had been frigit in mondstadt, said fact wasn't to be denied, but kazuha's snuggly body abstained from said irksome result.

you had been holding in your breath by how euphoric everything had become and noticed how kazuha's face was greatly dazzling in complete joy and exuberance, time was passing unusually on this night, almost magic like, but that wasn't a bad thing, it's as if the whole universe had aided you in your day.

⋆⑅˚₊ — CHILDE

in a general sense, one might come to the acute conclusion that someone as illustrious as childe himself would spend a grand chunk of mora on his valentines date with you.

in many cases, this can be the truth, however, this year was a little different from any other before.

you see, childe and you had been greatly tied up in work and as his own occupation was a serious one at that, you weren't able to visit him in another nation either way, so for some months you were not even seeing each other entirely— which was visibly frustrating in its own volition.

to say you both have missed each other tremendously has to be a boundless understatement because childe wasn't certain about how on earth he should continue on his day to day life without having you tightly wrapped in his arms at least once, perhaps twice.

in the first instances, childe wasn't sure if he should even voice the idea of, quote on quote, 'skipping' valentines day and persisting at home, maybe you were awaiting more of him and the last thing ajax wished to achieve was to lower any expectations you set for his person.

but then, in a trice, you immediately obliged and told him that it was alright with you, no questions asked, that you understood what he meant and to speak truthfully, tardily spending the day at home should be as much fun as strolling around the freezing town, if not more.

then, while a measureless amount of pairs were going out on well sought out dates and shouldered the intense cold of snezhnaya, you and childe conclusively stayed in, favoring your assemblage without hurrying.

strawberries with a shade of brilliant red were enclosed in chocolate, resting on the drawer next to your bed where you were settled in.

the subtleness of his touches on your back bristled deep into you— while also showing the slight lack of responses and heightened tiredness in your frame. And yet, you didn‘t want it any other way, after some time you realized that it must‘ve been a long time ago since you were capable to speak so carelessly without shouldering any responsibilities.

"i wish we could do this every day." childe hums and pitches his head a little to your side so he could fix his pretty eyes on you, "but then it wouldn‘t be so special." you pointed out with your response being a clear one, your cheeks were fizzed with warmth and settled in a flustering manner.

childe cherished to see you this way— so relaxed and close to him, fuck he missed you so much it almost pained him, no words could describe how much he loved you this moment, that whenever you talked, a feeling of dizzying blessedness would crane his unified frame of mind.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin x you #thoma x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #diluc x you #thoma x you #childe x reader #kazuha x you #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfiction #childe x you

[azaarchiive]

☆be mine?; gojo satoru

synopsis; satoru is never second, so why aren’t you with him right now?

notes: valetines treat that’s a day late, sorry guys i got so fucking plastered yesterday but here i am now!

tags: alcohol consumption, rich 18 y/o gojo, jealousy, tiny age gap (between you and random), gn reader, foul language, use of petname (baby), mentions of throwing up, 995 words ❤️ happy valentines guys

satoru was truthfully only here for you and suguru, he was not that fond of parties which was quite conflicting with his persona. it was just an excuse to get drunk and getting drunk weakens a person. plus alcohol tasted yucky to him.

nonetheless, when you wanted to throw a valentines party for all the singles, he just had to come. now, he was heavily regretting that choice as he could see your so called ‘valentines’ here with you.

you see, two days ago, your school was selling roses that you could give to anyone of your choosing for valentines. satoru with his marvellous brain decided he was to give you one, confess his undying love for you and finally make you two happen. you both would be the power couple, the dream team that everyone would envy while you two would snuggle and whisper sweet nothings into each others ears. sadly, that's not what happened.

a junior that had obviously had his eyes on you for a while had come to give you a rose and ask you out. while you had frequently reminded everyone that you were not into him as he had a reputation to be... popular with the girls, it still irked him how you talked to him and was still considering going out on a date with that loser when he was standing right here.

so, he didn't buy the rose. instead, he congratulated you and watched from afar how you two were getting it on in this stupid party with 2000s club music blaring in his ears and a cup of your strong concoction (it was 3/4s vodka and 1/4th sprite) in his hand.

"everyone can see you staring." a voice from behind him spoke, of course he already knew that person was there but was just too angry to face them.

"i'm way better than that loser, like i'm the strongest man alive, i've got money that will last a lifetime and a face that kills. i'm the ideal package!" satoru complained, huffing before finally turning around and taking a large gulp of your valentines special.

"then show her that, you have been here crying and complaining about how you're way better than the junior but she doesn't know that because you're yapping instead of doing." suguru sighed, having to hear the same 'in the strongest and richest' speech from satoru was a little tiring.

"why do i have to prove something that's a fact?" satoru asked frustratingly, taking another swing of the drink.

"ok, we all know you hate drinking so slow down and stop trying to look cool." suguru chuckled, trying to take away satorus drink from him only for him to snatch it back aggressively.

"i do drink! in fact.." satoru chugged down his drink, took sugurus drink and chugged it down also.

"what the fuc-"

"i'll show that little boy what a real man is!" satoru slightly slurred, given that satoru literally never drinks, you're heavy drinker mixer got him quite fucked up very quickly.

suguru watched satoru walk away, debating on whether he should try and salvage the situation.

"a party always needs some entertainment." suguru shrugged, getting a refill before making his way to watch the mess that was about to unfold in front of him.

satoru marched towards you, dragging you onto the couch as he flopped on top of you. you gasped from the sudden attack in shock.

"satoru- what the hell are you doing?!" you asked, trying to push him off of you.

"um, do you need any help?" the junior asked.

"hell no, back off!" satoru exclaimed, causing the junior to jump slightly and run away, he was not about to be purple hollowed on valentine's day.

"no, rui! ugh, satoru you scared him off!" you groaned, finally pushing him next to you as you laid there heaving.

"good, you don't need him." satoru shifted to face you, taking off his sunglasses.

you looked into his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions hit you as those deep

blue eyes stared into yours. you always found him attractive, he was charming and sweet whilst being an utter fool. satoru had a humorous personality and fuck, his million dollar face was worth everything in the world to kiss.

however, you couldn't tell if he thought the same about you. if he thought about the intricacies of your facial structure the way you did and if he thought about scenarios where you both went on dates or watched cheesy romcoms whilst snuggling together.

“leave that poor boy alone.” you muttered, your hand somehow finding its way to his hair. satoru leaned into you, his head on your chest while you played with his white strands.

“not when he’s trying to get with you like you’re not mine.” he muttered back, looking up at your face of shock.

“satoru, you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.” you said, trying more to convince yourself rather than satoru.

“get real, you know for a fact im in love with you. why wouldn’t i be? you’re fucking amazing.” satoru smiled.

“what- i- im-“ you stammered, this was not expected at all.

“it’s ok, i know you feel same way, im amazing as well. so please, don’t go on that date with him to try and substitute him for me.” satoru slurred, holding you tightly as he placed a small peck on your chest.

you felt flustered, heavily flustered. since when was satoru this perceptive? well, you guessed he always has been, you just hoped he wasn’t seeing right through you specifically.

“be my valentines? tomorrow i’ll treat you to a date.” satoru lifted his head, staring right into your eyes again.

“february 15th is such a side chick day.” you joked.

“my favourite day for my favourite side chick then.” satoru nuzzled back into your oddly warm chest as you jokingly slapped his head.

satoru was glad he turned infinity off for this, for you.

“so, you guys are finally together now?” suguru spoke softly, causing you both to jump up in surprise.

“oh my god, i didn’t see you there.” you jumped.

“you stalker.” satoru joked.

“whatever, i was scared that you were gonna embarrass yourself, which you did.” suguru smiled.

“either way, i now have a partner while you’re alone for valentine’s day, haha!” satoru replied.

“don’t be mean.” you scolded satoru.

“sorry baby.” satoru went back into your chest with a gleeful smile on his face.

“i feel sick.” suguru fake retched.

#authors #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk geto #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x you #satorugojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #valetines #valentines day #happy valentine's day #first time writing jjk help

[jo-harrington]

You don't have time for Christmas.

Work and home and this friend in a crisis.

Work and home and, let's be honest, probably work again.

And before you know it, it's December 20th and you don't even have any decorations up. Barely anyone does. The neighborhoods that are usually lit up with lights and figurines enough to rival the Griswolds are noticably dark this year.

What holiday? What festivity? It's wake up and hustle and lay in bed in a dreamless sleep. Then wake up to do it all again.

You are a cog in a machine.

You don't know how to voice these things, your displeasure, the secret yearning for the pomp and circumstance and childhood whimsy for the holiday season that's tucked somewhere deep inside your weary body. You can't bring yourself to indulge in it.

You're tired.

You glance down the card aisle at the grocery store but don't stop to grab any for friends. You pick up a bag of peanut butter bells for your candy jar at work but then second guess it at the checkout. Gifts are bought with as much care as you could, but you can't even bother to wrap them as prettily as you usually would.

You can try again for Valentine's. Chocolate hearts with the crispy rice inside and roses for your coworkers. Something.

But this year, you don't have time for Christmas.

And he notices.

It starts with cookies.

He likes to bake--started with boxed cake mix and then you bought him a handheld torch one year so he could try his hand at creme brûlée after he watched a little too much Jacques Pepin on PBS--so it's not anything suspicious. No ulterior motives detected.

Only he's dug up the little handwritten notebook full of your grandma's favorite recipes. Grandpa's handwriting because he wrote it while she dictated. Cookies he's never tasted before himself but seemed to have nailed exactly the way she made them. The love he poured into the treats matched hers exactly.

He brings you a plate and a cup of cocoa when you come home and collapse on the couch.

You cry when you eat them. And he lets you.

Then he digs out the tree from the garage.

The one-car garage that you pay extra for doesn't fit either of your vehicles but fits all your crap. You both vow to clean up at some point and never do. He slogs through the boxes of old band tees that don't fit him and kitchen crap that you don't miss or really need, to get to the plastic 6 ft tree that used to have stickers to note which bough went in what slot but those are long gone.

He spends hours figuring it out and decorating it, and imagine your surprise when you come home to an otherwise-dark apartment illuminated by the fat, colorful incandescent bulbs that you're sure he spent a significant amount of time untangling. You'd both given up last year and went without lights. But there they are.

"What?" you drop your bag by the door. "What is this?"

"I dunno," he grins proudly. "Thought it would be nice. Get in the Christmas spirit. Saved the star for you to put on top if you want."

And you did. You wanted it so bad. Ever since you were a kid, you were the one to put the star on top of the tree.

After it's up, you marvel at the special care he's taken with the important ornaments. Fragile little wooden ones from your grandma, popsicle stick frames with baby pictures of both of you, a macaroni snowman that he gave his mom once-upon-a-time that his uncle had stashed away, and then a fancy hallmark one you got the year you moved in together.

They all have special places on the tree and tell a story of your lives, separate and then together.

You both lay under the tree that night, staring up at the glittering lights as you hold hands.

Finally it's Christmas Eve. Which to him really meant nothing, but to you meant the world. Christmas Days were spent with individual families but Christmas Eves of old meant a big dinner and time spent with your cousins and It's a Wonderful Life on the TV.

It's a tradition that got put to the wayside as everyone got too old and too tired. As you started getting scheduled to work, like this year. And it's almost worse this year, as you've done a stretch of you-can't-remember-how-many days, that you even turned down an invitation for the two of you from your mom for a small dinner with her.

You're exhausted by the time you get home and, more than anything, you're looking forward to the day off tomorrow.

Not the holiday. The day off.

Still, you remember to bring in the handful of gifts from their hiding place in your trunk. You don't really do gifts between the two of you anymore. Nothing big at least. Just a cheesy little thing. Something fun, not something serious. But you did a little more this year than you usually would--all of the OT you'd clocked for one, and too many things you saw that you knew would make him smile for another.

You try to tip toe into the house as quietly as possible so you can throw the boxes under the tree and shower but he's vigilant. He's been at the stove cooking for a while, and he greets you at the door as you shut it behind you.

"I thought we said no big gifts," he admonishes you and snatches the boxes from your hands. The wrapping paper isn't festive--just brown craft paper you stole borrowed from work since you wrapped on your lunch--but you managed to slap on some red and green bows from the drugstore that you grabbed the other day.

"They're not big," you explained. "I promise."

"Well neither are mine," he winked.

You slap a hand against his chest and then give him a kiss in greeting and thanks.

"One better be the RC racer I wanted when I was nine," he mutters against your lips.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to wait," you tell him. "And no shaking the boxes.

You're almost a little ticked off'; one of them is the RC racer.

You kick off your shoes as the smell finally hits you.

Dinner.

Thick and savory and fragrant.

Some kind of fish and roasted potatoes and the starchiness of a pasta and the tang of its sauce.

Recipes, again, taken from your grandma's little notebook. They stir something deep inside of you. That yearning you never voiced.

The weariness that's been slowly building within you finally comes to a head when you make it to the kitchen and see the pots and pans and two plates already portioned out.

An ice cold beer for him, and a Shirley temple, extra cherries, for you.

"Remember when you told me," he comes up behind you and his arms snake around your midsection, "that you and your cousins would sneak extra maraschino cherries from the fridge when your gram wasn't looking. And then she went to go get them for the pistachio salad and they were gone."

Your knees shake and you practically collapse against him.

"Speaking of which, there is a pistachio salad in the fridge for dessert."

"Why?" you sniff.

"Because that's actually my favorite, so sorry to your grandma's tiramisu." He pecks a kiss to the side of your head and rocks you back and forth. "But if you want to make that for New Year's Eve, I won't say no."

"No," you let out a watery laugh. "Why are you so good to me, why did you do all of this?"

"Because I know it's been a hard few weeks. Few months." You can feel him shrug. "Fuck, it's been hard for me too but...I know this is one of your favorite parts of the year and you just...haven't been in the spirit for it. So whatever I could do to make it happen for you..."

You turn in his arms and bury your face in his shoulder, in his neck, so he doesn't see your tears. Again. Worse this time as you begin to shake from your sobs. He shushes you, runs a hand over your back, and leaves kiss after kiss against your head.

"Baby, I'll do anything for you," he tells you, voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you whine against his skin. "I'm so...so happy."

"Good."

"Thank you," you repeat it over and over again until it feels like you're empty of all the void and indifference that have filled you for the past few months are gone. In their place just...love and gratitude for him.

"Merry Christmas baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Merry Christmas."

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #it honestly could be anyone but it's him #christmas fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic

[mykoreanlove]

Unsent, Unheard 💌

“Hyunjin, are you coming out with us tonight?” The dark-haired boy shook his head impatiently. “Can’t. Got plans”, he mumbled. “Plans? I thought you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s?”, his friend asked confused. “It’s not a date per-se…” “Then what is it?”, his friend pressed for an answer.

Redemption. Salvation. A return to … wholeness?

“You’ll see”, he shrugged it off and left the room. Hyunjin came up with this plan weeks ago after reflecting on all his wrong doings in the past. Nearly all of them were about love and relationships, so he figured today would be the perfect night to ask for forgiveness. To clean his slate and ease his soul. He locked the room and lit some candles, easing into the mood of facing his misdeeds. He took out the luxurious parchment he had once bought in Europe and started writing to each girl he had ever wronged.

Dear y/n, I am sorry I was your first kiss. I’m sure this horrendous moment is burnt into your soul, just like my guilt about it is. I was so into you, so in love with you. I couldn’t wait for it to finally happen and then it did. I drank so much to gather the courage to press my lips onto your pink, shiny ones. And when I did? Marvelous. Sweet. Innocent. But I was also very drunk and once you turned around to talk to your best friend, I moved on to the other girl. I don’t even remember what it felt like kissing her; I don’t even remember her name.   But I remember the look in your eyes when you came back and saw me kissing her. Your pained eyes, which were covered in thick tears haunted me for a long time. Back then I probably didn’t apologize the right way because I was too stubborn, too prideful. When in fact I was ashamed. Of what I did. Of me. I don’t ask for your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I am sorry. I am sorry I ruined your first kiss like that.

Hyunjin remembered the aftermath of his actions. He started dating the other girl, pretending not to want you anymore even though you were occupying his every thought. Your peers pitied you, saw you as a rejected loser whereas he was the one all the girls wanted to be with. He let out a deep breath and grabbed the next sheet of paper.

Dear y/n, I am sorry I was your first fuck. I know it was a special moment for you, one that would never come back. And I ruined it. I remember you shaking from nerves. Did I make you that uncomfortable? Was it because of my mean jokes? Was it me teasing you because no one had touched you before? I’m sorry I took your virginity without thinking of you. How you felt, how it felt. Were you in pain? I’m sorry I never made sure you had a good time. I’m sorry I teased you for bleeding all over my sheets. I’m sorry I fucked you again hours later, while you were wincing from pain. I wasn’t thinking straight. Or at all. I am sorry I made your first time so miserable, that was not the kind of unforgettable I was going for. I hope I didn’t ruin sex for you forever, I hope you can enjoy it to the fullest now.

He sighed deeply, as all of this was coming back to him. Images of him bragging about taking your cherry flooded his mind. Everyone was applauding him like he won a scholarship, when all he did was stick his dick into you in the most mediocre way. He was treated like a winner, whereas you got treated as someone that was, well, fucked. Heavy emotions started to rise in his chest, remnants of the past he had hidden away carefully. But now, it was time to unpack them all.

Dear y/n, I am sorry I was your first real boyfriend. Truth is, I loved you. I truly did. But I couldn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved. Fully, deeply, soundly. I wasn’t as attentive or caring. In fact, I was selfish. All I ever thought about was myself, all you ever thought about was adapting to me. I never cared about your feelings that much but I’m sure you already knew that. I am sorry I put you through all those challenging situations. Like being best friends with my ex, my first great love. I’m sorry I called her when I got good news instead of calling you. I’m sorry I left you on your birthday to go home and see her. I’m sorry I invited her to my birthday even though you told me not to. I saw you struggle; I saw your tears. But I didn’t care. And when it was all too much I decided to leave, like a coward. I’m not sure whether you remember the exact words I sent you in that breakup text, but I do. They are imprinted in my brain. I didn’t have the courage to face you – after everything I put you through, I wasn’t even able to give you a proper goodbye. Or an explanation. I am sorry I was your first great love. I am sorry I couldn’t live up to your expectations.

Hyunjin remembered how your dad had reached out to him, asking if he could at least talk to his daughter. According to him you had been so heartbroken, not eating for days, not smiling for weeks, not living for months. But he chose to ignore those requests. He couldn't handle them. Hyunjin wiped away a tear. He didn’t think it would bring up so many memories, each one more daunting than the one before. He never thought about his actions, nor the consequences as it was too painful. Too shameful. But now he decided it was time to. If he wanted to be better and deserving of true love, he had to own his mistakes. One by one.

Dear y/n, I am sorry I was your first real one-night stand. Or rather, two night-stand? When I came to your city for work, I was a lost cause. A soul astray. Someone that gave up on love and only indulged in pleasure. That’s exactly what I used you for. Notice my words? Used. I am sorry I treated you like that. I only needed you for sex. I really liked you, though, and everything I shared with you was true. The story about my dead grandmother’s spirit? True. The story about how I got cheated on? True. My compliments about your unique beauty? True. Me thinking about a future with you? True. But that all fell into pieces as I realized that I was nowhere near you, not even close to your level. You deserve someone that is open to love, not someone like me that’s rotten. And that’s why I pushed you away. I used you for my ego, only to push you away like your feelings didn’t matter. They didn’t. That’s why I blocked you without a word. Once again, I behaved like a coward. I am deeply sorry that I got your hopes up only to crush them like childish dreams. I am sorry I evoked a love within you that I never intended to keep.

Memories of you reaching out to him on other platforms flooded his mind. You begged him for an explanation, you begged to see him one more time. Back then he continued to block you there, too. Hyunjin sighed heavily. Those were only four letters – four memories in which he acted like the biggest dickhead. He felt horrible. Facing these things felt atrocious. “Nah, fuck this”, he mumbled annoyed as he pushed the letters into his wooden drawer, leaving it half-open whilst exiting. “I never intended to send them anyways”, he mumbled as he grabbed his coat and rushed past his roommate, eager to flee from his mistakes. “Where are you-?”, Jeongin asked confused. He saw his friend leave in a hurry and wondered what had gotten into him. Curiously, he entered Hyunjin’s room and scanned the premise – there was nothing suspicious apart from the very expensive stationery and ink on his desk. “Was he writing a letter?”, he mumbled as he rummaged through Hyunjin’s stuff. Jeongin slammed his knee on the half-opened drawer and winced in pain, cursing Hyunjin for being so reckless with his things. “Wait, what are those?” He took out the letters and scanned through them, eyes widening in shock as he realized what he had found…

Happy valentine's - I am eternally grateful for everyone reading and sharing ❤️

#mykoreanlove #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz angst #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #skz hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids angst #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin skz #hyunjin drabbles #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours #hyunjin comfort #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader

[harleehazbinfics]

Valentines Special!

Home is where my Heart is.

A/N: im sorry i cant write smut to save my life :')) HAPPY VALENTINES FROM HOME IS WHERE MY HEART IS!!!

KINDA SMUTTY - MINORS DNI

My eyes flutter open as I feel someone fingers tug and slide through my hair to see my husband doing it. I let out a content hum as I buried my face on his bare chest. We stayed like that for a few minutes until I trailed my fingers down his waist making him squirm.

"You're quite handsy for someone who ended up crying from last night," he chides at me taking my hands into his, kissing them. "Best I tie these up for now?"

HIs words make me half lidded from lust as I remembered last night's ventures. I eyed his lips leaning closer to him which he acknowledges by pulling me in by my wrists into a kiss. He looked at me with eyes clouded with haze while he lifts my leg, letting me climb into his lap. I moan as I ground my hips on his, I feel his other hand hold on my hip as he leads me to a slow grind while we kissed breathlessly.

---

"Shit, Al," I breathed out somewhat proud and embarrassed of all the love bites that decorated my body, from my chin to my ankles as I looked at my reflection in the full mirror in the bathroom.

"I think they look marvelous on you, Mel," he calls from the bathtub behind me while he looks at me on the mirror.

I narrowed my eyes at him, flicking my finger mindlessly as water splashes on his face making him close his eyes with a laugh. I made my way towards the tub, sitting on his lap as we enjoyed the warm water.

He waves hand, changing the light colors to a low red accompanied by roses in the bubble bath along with some slow jazz consuming the room where wee relaxed our bodies and enjoyed the atmosphere for a very long while.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #alastor x reader #hazbin vaggie #alastor #alastor x oc #lucifer x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon

[sstan-hoe]

— 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑂𝑢𝑡 —

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 — mob!bucky barnes × fem!reader

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — “i don’t know what kind of wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so i got both.”

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 — none! But listen to PERFECT from ED SHEERAN please you should really do it

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒 — this was requested by the lovely @bucky-barnes-diaries who gifted me with this marvelous idea, it screamed mob au where he only knows fancy but reader isn't as fancy, reblog, follow and comment !

𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑦 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡

To say Bucky was nervous would be an understatement, he was anxious. Never before did he have a Valentine's Day as important as this one.

It was the first Valentine’s day he would celebrate with you. For weeks he had planned the perfect day, with a private screening of Jojo Rabbit and a fancy dinner afterwards. Then one night as you laid cuddled up in bed you told him how you didn’t want to do anything fancy.

You hadn't grown up in luxury or lived in it for a long time like Bucky. Of course you knew he only wanted to cherish you, but you didn't need that.

Instead your idea was to buy takeout and have a nice relaxing evening.

That wasn't on Bucky's list. However he wouldn’t do something that you didn’t want which was why he was currently in his wine cellar looking for the perfect wine. The Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru and the Coche-Dury Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru, but which wine would someone drink with takeout? Red or white? Or no wine at all? He decided to take both.

You were already buzzing with excitement, this Valentine’s day would be special which was the reason you wanted to do something normal and not fancy. In the past years you’ve never met a man quite like Bucky, he was a gentleman, cared for you, worshiped you and respected you.

Everything was finished, a set table with fresh roses, dim lights and romantic playlist you found on Spotify. Now any minute Bucky would come and sweep you off your feet.

The doorbell rang and you had to keep a giggle from coming to the surface as you skipped over to the door. Opening the wooden door it revealed Bucky, his hair pulled back into a man bun, he wore black jeans and a matching black flannel.

“Hey there handsome…,” you smirked leaning against your doorframe. Bucky mirrored your smirk and stepped closer to you. “Hello, beautiful…,” he leaned his face down, his nose almost touching yours.

In moments like these you realized once again how tall he was compared to you. Bucky’s hand grasped your cheek to kiss you, the kiss was full of passion and his tongue graced your bottom lip to ask for permission. Instantly your mouth fell open to let him in. Your tongues danced over dominance, the kiss as hot as fire.

You had to pull back for air, breathing heavily you looked into his blue eyes with a big smile. Bucky rested his forehead on yours and closed his eyes like you before he pushed you inside your flat.

“I don't know what kind of wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so I got both,” he said as you both came to a stop. A hearty laugh escaped your lips at his words, “no worries, my love,” you assured him and led him to the table.

The mob boss had a spark in his eyes as he saw how beautifully you decorated the table, “look what my pretty girl did! This looks amazing, dragul meu.” his Romanian tongue had butterflies dancing in your belly.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss the crown of your head.

“Takeout is still not here…wanna dance?” you asked with a little smirk and raised eyebrows. The brunette immediately took your right hand and spun you around, “with pleasure,” he whispered against the shell of your ear as he had you flush against his chest.

He spun you back around and the music switched to ‘Perfect’ from Ed Sheeran.

His hands rested on your waist as your hands closed around his neck. Your head laid on his shoulder, trying to be as close to him as possible.

Swaying around your living room, the room was full of love. You enjoyed this moment, it should never end because this is right where you wanted to be forever. This man, he was the one you wanted to be with forever without exception.

You lifted your head and opened your eyes to see he was already looking at you with those dreamy blue eyes. The smile never left your lips, he looked perfect.

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you, he wondered how he deserved a woman like you. A woman who was okay with what he was doing, a woman who appreciated him, a woman who wasn’t with him for his money and a woman who accepted him with his scars.

A soft warm hand laid against his cheeks and you looked at him with this gaze, he didn’t want that to change, ever.

You were the woman he would marry, have children with, grow old with and would spend forever with. “And now I know I have met an angel in person,” Bucky began singing along quietly, his voice angelic.

“And she looks perfect,” his eyes never left yours as you tried hard not to tear up, “I don’t deserve this,” Bucky pulled you closer.

“You look perfect tonight,” he whispered the last words before he closed his lips on yours.

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes valentine 💞 #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x black!reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #Spotify