#Valentín [he/him]

[prontaentrega]

all in all im still a hater of the one widespread english translation of kiss of the spider woman (book) but i dont like the movie all that much so i guess ill just tell people to read the book and like . take it with a grain of salt ←just googled this expression idk if its correct. but its a really good book so everyone should read it one way or another

[capseisen]

Stocktober... is finally stockt-over. (Click to view them-- ew that compression)

I tried doing Stocktober last year but burnt out, and the previous year I was far too ambitious. This year I went into it with an idea in mind: how would a few of my characters draw?

Of course, Stocktober is ran by @null-entity-- super glad you moved over to Tumblr!

HQ [Toyhouse] Versions: [Ke'tlan] | [Valentín] | [Alfonz] | [Satcha]

[emosyzoth]

using gin//ran scenes for my ocs bc this one thousand percent happened in my head . idc go to hell

[canirove]

Have I ever mentioned that I have a kid at work who could be De Bruyne's lost son? 😅 They have the same eyes, similar hair and skin colour...

[xxsugarbonesxx]

Mi Valentín

Tags: full nelson, butt job, head (m receiving), fingering, hand job, groping, something about free use??? semi public sex porn WITH plot

no use of y/n afab!reader, reader has a fattie sorry but i don't make the rules 😮‍💨😔

TW!!! I am NOT a writer!! This is just something I do for funsies so don't expect much lol

She’s a beefy one so buckle up

Valentine's day is your absolute favorite holiday. A whole mushy gushy day dedicated to showing your significant other, or your friends or yourself to how much you love them and appreciate them. An excuse to dress up and go out, excessive chocolate consumption and give gifts. But, unfortunately, your beloved husband thought otherwise.  

He never liked Valentine's Day, and he had thousands of excuses too. “Why is one day out of the whole year meant to show your love when I do it all year long?” Miguel said, rolling his eyes as he chopped vegetables for dinner. It’s not like he didn’t spoil you on Valentine's day, he always took you out to a nice restaurant for dinner and got you some gifts. But he was missing the whole entire point!

“Drop it amor, I’m plenty romantic as is. Remember when I took you out to that hotel and we spent the night away from the kids?” Miguel asked, his go to excuse when you brought this topic up. He turned to face you, one hand on the counter and the other holding the knife. He had an apron on, with ‘Milfin’ Ain’t Easy’ printed on the chest. You decided it was best not to question, said apron and moved on.

“But Miggy, it’s my favorite holiday. Can’t you not be so cynical for one in your life and humor that your wife enjoys something?” You said, crossing your arms under your chest. He just snorted and continued with his cooking, you scrunch your face and turn your heel, deciding you're not gonna give him the satisfaction of your presence, you leave to go find something to keep yourself occupied or just pout while you wait for dinner.

“You know it’s a dumb holiday, mi vida. It’s like how birthdays were invented by greeting card companies to make more money.” Miguel teased as he sat down in bed next to you after dinner.

You frown and roll on your side with your back facing him to let him know how upset you are with him. He sighed and chuckled, he cuddled up against you so he was big spooning you. He ran his calloused palm over your bare leg. “Don’t be like that, mamás. You know I love you, but I just can’t get behind a holiday that’s supposed to be about showing love since I already do that everyday for you,” He pouted, kissing your cheek and patting your butt.

You sighed and sat up, “Okay, you know what. You’re right, you already do so much for me. I guess it’s a little selfish to ask for more. I just get jealous sometimes, of all my girlfriends who always talk about their partners and how romantic their Valentine’s Day is…” You admitted, it sounded silly when you say it out loud. It embarrassed you, you have an amazing husband who gave you two beautiful daughters and here you are, ungrateful all because of FOMO. 

“It’s alright, I know what you mean…but let’s not focus on that. I promised we’d never go to bed mad at each other. And we’ve had a long day, hmm? How about we get to sleep now? Since we’ve got a big week ahead of us,” Miguel asked, kissing your collarbone, he was such a smooth talker it drove you up the wall sometimes. But you nodded, kissing him back and curling up with him in bed. 

Little did you know he’s been scheming.

One week ‘til V-day.

You let go of the whole Valentine’s Day thing, you were embarrassed about getting so worked up about the situation. You got home late from work, Miguel was already gone to watch Gabriela’s soccer practice and he took the baby with him. You had the whole house to yourself, you sat on the edge of the bed. Sighing as you take off your earrings and heels, you notice something on your nightstand. 

You look to see a fuzzy little lion plushie with a fancy red ribbon tied around his neck. You smiled softly and picked it up, it was soft in your palms and smelt like strawberries. 

It was obvious that it was from Miguel, you set it down on the bed and finished getting out of your work clothes. After a nice shower, you put on some cozy clothes and flop onto the bed. The house was clean and there were no chores to do so you got to relax, you sat in bed watching a movie with your new bed buddy. You hugged it to your chest, breathing in the strawberry scented mane.

Miguel came home with the girls a bit after your movie ended, Gabriela skipped into the house with her baby hairs stuck to her forehead from sweat and the remnants of chocolate ice cream on her cheeks. You usher her into the bathroom for her bath before finding Miguel. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on the tips of your toes to give him a quick kiss.

“What was that for?” He chuckled, his hand on the small of your back, the baby on his hip.

“Just a kiss, I saw that stuffy.” You smiled and shrugged, looking up at him through your lashes. “I love him, but you didn’t need to get me anything…”

“I know that, I just saw it when I was at the store and thought you’d like it sooo…” He said, his hand snaking up the small of your back to roll his fingers through your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Gracias guapo,” You coo, leaning into him for one more quick kiss before pulling away to give Gabriela her bath.

Five days ‘til V-day.

You and Gabriela sat at the kitchen table while Miguel was at work. With baby Esther on your lap, the three of you were hard at work making Miguel his Valentine’s Day present. Since he was always so low key for the holiday, you would do the same. Opting for something cuter and simple that also included the girls.

You already had a hand print of Miguel’s huge, paw-ish hand from an old craft Gabriela made when she was in kindey. You cut out a nice square of paper around the hand print, you carefully painted your own palm and fingers with a soft pink. You pressed your hand over his painted hand print.

Next was Gabriela, you painted her hand with a slightly darker pink color and pressed it over your hand print once it was dry. Then Esther when Gabriela’s handprint dried, you used a baby safe paint that was a darker pink color then Gabriela’s. You pressed the baby’s palm gently over her sisters. So it was papa Miguel’s big black hand print, your smaller light pink hand print, Gabriela’s little hand and then Esther’s teeny tiny hand.

It was perfect, a cute little card from all his girls for Valentines. You let Gabriela paint a couple pink hearts on it and sign it and it was perfect. You take it to write a lovey dovey message on the back and tuck it away in your nightstand once it was completely dry for the fourteenth.

Three days ‘til V-day. 

You looked awful, you tripped in the snow as you hiked your work parking lot to get to your car in front of your boss. When you finally got up out of the slush, you got your hair caught in a branch. Tangling it with leaves and sticks, finally you got home. 

You trudge up the driveway, it has been snowing and raining all day long. You hated the cold winter weather in Nueva York, you just had to wear heels today as you took big steps over the slush. You finally made it inside the warm apartment, taking a deep breath, your shoulders relaxed. The girls are in the living room watching Bluey with Miguel cooking in the kitchen. You kiss the girl's forehead hello and wobble deeper into the warm kitchen.

“Hey mamás, how—woof, what happened to you?” Miguel half laughed, pulling his oven mitts off his huge hands. Today he’s wearing a green apron with ‘Besame soy Irlandés’ printed on the chest. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You mumbled, brushing the leaves out of your hair. Your whole front is soaked, there was some sort of ice or snow in your bra and your makeup smeared from crying in your car.

“Oye, poor mami.” He cooed, wrapping his big arms around your waist and hugging you to his chest. He held you tight, kissing the side of your face.

He helped you untangle your hair and get out of your soaked clothes. He drew a warm bath with bath salts and bubbles, he washed your hair for you once you were in the water. His big calloused hands rubbing your shoulders as he pecked your cheek. His chest pressed against your back, his hand snaked down into the water in front of you. He peppered the side of your face with gentle kisses as he gently rubbed your core with his pointer and middle fingers. His wedding ring was cool against your inner thighs, his other hand cupped your left breast. Massaging it softly, his thumb grazing over your perked nipples. 

His other hand cupped your sweet pussy, his fingers dipping in between your soft folds and pushing into your wet hole. “My poor girl, I’m sorry your day sucked.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, you bit down onto your bottom lip. Holding back whines as he gently begins to pump his fingers slowly, your hands find the edges of the bathtub to grip. Your head rolls back, your eyes shut as a little gasp escapes your soft lips. He smiled into the dip of your neck, still playing with your tits.

His surprisingly tender lips graze up over your neck for an open mouth kiss, catching your wines and huffs in his mouth. You feel his lips twitch into a little smirk, that smug bastard is always so proud of himself. He pulled away, you whined from the emptiness that filled your soft walls now that he took his fingers out, but you immediately perked up when you heard him take his belt off from the loops. 

Miguel stood up and over to the side of the tub, he slipped his semi hard cock from his boxers. He looked down at you as he pumped his huge hand over his girth, he held you face with his other hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your bottom lip. His way of silently telling you to ‘open’.

You obediently part your pretty lips, he slapped his red tip onto your tongue. He was now fully hard, his cock was perfect. His member is a little darker than his brown skinned body, at least eight to eight and a half inches long. Maybe even ten on a really good day. It was girthy too, with a fat vein on the side of it, it curved up slightly, his groin perfectly shaven besides the happy trail over the base of his length. His balls were heavy, you took him in your mouth. Since he was so big, you always struggled to take him completely. 

You manage to get a good four inches in and start to bob your head, you look up at him through your lashes. It hasn't even been in you long, but you were already cock drunk. He instinctively began to roll his hips into your jaw, the bathroom filled with lewd squelching, moans, and groans. You gag and your eyes roll back.

Just when things started to get good, the baby screeched downstairs in the living room. Miguel sighed and threw his head back dramatically, he pulled away and pulled his slacks back up

over his hips. You frown and pout, he chuckles and bends down to kiss your forehead. “Lo siento, mi corazón…” He muttered, pulling away to get back downstairs to make sure the girls didn’t kill each other. 

You groan a little and sink a little deeper into the warm water.

One day ‘til V-day.

You had actually forgotten all about Valentine’s Day. The girls and work had made you forget all about it. You were sitting at your desk at work, typing and scribbling down notes for later when one of your colleagues told you that there was something at the front desk for you. Curious, you go to check on whatever goodie or package was delivered to you. You never get these sorts of things, you couldn't help but be excited as all the possibilities ran through your head. What the receptionist handed you was better than anything you could have imagined.

The front desk person handed you ramo buchon. One hundred pink and white roses were arranged and wrapped, surrounded by matching pink and white baby’s breath blooms tied together by a ribbon. A little white teddy bear with a ribbon and tag sat in the center of the buchon, the tag signed by your secret admirer. It didn’t take long to figure out who said secret admirer was, since it was Miguel’s handwriting. 

You looked at the gorgeous flowers for the majority of your shift, making sure to send Miguel a little ‘I love you’ text to show your appreciation. Even though he played dumb when you got home, insisting that it wasn’t him and someone else must have sent it. He hugged you tight, muttering under his breath how he’s gonna teach that ‘son of a glitch’ a lesson for daring to make a move on his woman when he finds out who sent it to you. Though you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“When I find them, I’ll teach them a lesson they soon won’t forget for thinking he can just make a move on my woman and get away with it.” Miguel scoffed, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll kill him dead,” He said when you chuckled.

“You hear me, mariposa? There are some things as a man I simply cannot stand for. And when another man thinks he can have what's mine. And you are mine.” He continued, his forehead pressed against yours as he spoke. “My woman, my baby mama, mine mine mine.”

He repeated that mantra throughout the night, you curled up against him in bed. Him kissing your forehead with his hands rubbing your sides. Going up and down the dips and valleys of your body. You couldn’t help but smile, your face pressed against his neck. “My sweet mujer,” He sighed dreamily. Peppering your pretty face with gentle kisses. 

“Did you like the buchon though?” He asked between smooches. You couldn’t help but giggle, squeezing your dear husband's hand gently and nodded. Your legs tangling with his, the blankets pulled up over to their shoulders. It was nice and cozy in their little blanket cocoon. Miguel needed a weighted blanket in the winters, that coupled with the fuzzy white tiger blanket on top of it made you both nice and warm. 

“Sí, sí. Ellos tienen buen gusto,” You reassure him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. He looked satisfied with that answer. 

Valentine’s Day. 

You woke up snuggled up in the warm bed with Miguel. His alarm went off weirdly early, you blinked, your eyes crusty in the morning, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. Miguel stirred as you sat up, his hands over your lap, you arch your back to stretch. His almond eyes slowly opened and glanced up at you. He smiled into your waist but didn’t move, his morning wood pressing into your plush thigh.

You look down at his hidden face then down into his lap. You smile to yourself and lay back down next to him, your hand snaking down underneath the covers. Already thinking up so many naughty thoughts, tracing down his tummy, following his happy trail, your fingertips teasing the waistband of his sweatpants. He grunted a little as you gently began to stroke his length. You squeezed gently, creating a delicious pressure. 

He finally ‘woke up’, grumbling into the crook of your neck. Rolling his hips back and forth into your hand. You chuckled, looking back over him. You press a little kiss to his nose, “good morning, quapo.” You purr into his ear. This was his favorite way of waking up, your hands on his body. Whether you stroked or sucked, his eyes rolled back and toes curled before waking. 

“Good morning, mariposa, you slept well?” He muttered into your neck, his hand over your chest. He kneaded your pretty tits in his big hands and sighed dreamily.

“I did,” You answer, you roll your palm over his angry red tip. Pearly beads of pre cum dribble out of the head onto your hand. You scoop it up in your fingers, pulling your hand away to taste it. His cum was sweet with a bit of salty, you loved the feeling of his warm seed on your tongue. And he loved seeing you enjoy it, he watched your lap up his pre, a smug look on his handsome face as you swallowed.

Just when you reached to finish the job, he sat up. His erect cock twitching right in front of your face, you were mesmerized. Jesus, you were just a simp. “Gabri could just walk i-” You started, he was already reaching to lock your bedroom door. He grabbed you by your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He reaches into his nightstand drawer to grab something. You look over your shoulder as he ripped your pajama shorts and panties off your body, making you giggle.

He drizzled massage oil on your bare ass, his calloused palms ran over your buttcheeks. You buried your face into the pillows, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl to yourself. He pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your shampoo, letting out a shuddering sigh, he sat back up on his knees behind you.

He dipped his ring and middle finger between your plush inner thighs, spreading the warm oil over your already wet pussy lips. You shiver but stay as still as possible for him, he bent over your pretty body. Pressing kisses onto your lower back. Muttering to himself as his fingers slip into your slits folds, your velvet walls clenching his long digits. You whine and cuss under your breath as he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers.

“Relax, mamás, can’t have you clenching my dick off.” He chuckled breathily in your ear, making you groan a little. You did your best not to clench on his fingers so hard, you rolled your shoulders and breathed deeply. Burying your face into the silky pillows, you whine as he begins to rock you by pumping his fingers into your weeping hole. Your breath shudders as his free hand down your back to asscheeks, squeezing gently and smacking to make you squeal.

“Oye,” You hiss, looking back at him over your shoulder, furrowing your eyebrows. He snickered like a kid and went back to pumping fingers. It didn’t take long till your orgasm, it never took Miguel too long to get you to cum. Your nectar pooled in his palm, he smirked proudly, licking

your cum off his hand. You whimper in shame, hiding your red face in the pillows. He chuckled cruelly before slapping his now fully erect member over your thick ass. You squeak as you watch his big hands grab the headboard above you and he begins to hump like a bitch in heat.

He sat on your calves on his knees, his thighs on either side of your hips. The massage oil acts as a lubricant for him to slide his fat cock between your buttcheeks easier. You whine into the pillows, your shoulders hunching and back arching. 

You let out a soft moan as his shaft dragged over your holes over and over again, making you shiver in pleasure. He let out a soft, satisfied sigh as he took you from behind. You just knew that the smug bastard had a satisfied look plastered all over his face as he humped, spanked and slapped your poor, poor, red ass. 

He grabbed and groped, before pulling off of you completely. Miguel took his shaft in his paw-ish hand, dragging his leaking tip to your weeping entrance. 

“Miggy…” You whine, it's been too long since you’ve had him all to yourself. Whether it be your respective jobs, family and taking care of two kids under ten. You miss the feeling of him stretching you out, you miss the burn. You missed him making it hard for you to walk the next day, and him eating you out like a starved man, repeating the phrase ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over again as an apology as he palmed his dick.

You missed the burn and the after care and him making you breakfast for you afterwards. His cock slipped inside, not even three inches at first just to get you ready. His fingers stretched you out best he could, but he was getting impatient, and he needed to feel his pretty girl. His hands drifted off the headboard to either side of your head on the bed. 

Sloooowly, he pushes deeper, you choke back all your noises. You look over at the nightstand on Miguel's side of the bed at the alarm clock, because you apparently married an old man. It was a little after five in the morning, he usually sets his alarm for six, that smug bastard set it early to squeeze a Valentines day quickie before work.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the plap plap plap of his hips hitting your ass and his tip kissing your cervix and the low creaks of your shared mattress. You slap your hand over your mouth, his big hands tighten around the sheets he was clenching. The massage oil and both of your sweat rolled off of eachother, pooling on the bed below you, but you’re too full to care. His length filled you up so good, that you couldn’t think to care about the fact you’re ruining your sheets.

“Yes…” You whine, your shaky hands clinging to the sheets as he pounds into you.

Miguel laid his body over yours as he slowly bucked into you, you almost preferred it when he was pounding into your poor, abused pussy since then he wasn’t torturing you with slow, agonizing strokes. His lips pressed into your ear, his eyes glazed over as he grunted and huffed into the shell of your ear, you loved how vocal he was. How he’d react to your body, how'd he moan and praise you. 

His arm slithered under your neck, pressing you into a headlock as he rutted against your soft walls. His nose buried into your hair, breathing in your cocoa butter shampoo. He tightened his grip on you until your cheek was pressed up against his bicep, his sweat, musk and the remnants of his cologne from yesterday made you slick. 

A knot formed in the pit of your belly, his pre mixed with the oils and your slick, coating the sheets with liquids. You really should have put a towel down…-

“So wet, you like that, don't you?" He growled, his voice deep and husky as he took you from behind. He couldn't resist, he couldn't fight it. He was under your control, he was yours to do with as you pleased. He always portrayed himself as the head of the household, el jefe, but it was a different story once the girls were in bed and the door was locked. He was still very much the dominant, though your pleasure was his priority. He wanted you to be pleased and happy with him above anything else.

“Mhm…feels, fuck, so good…” You mewl, your hips swaying side to side as he slowly rolled his hips into you, your warm walls clenching him. He pulled out until only his tip was in, before pounding back in. Your sweet nectar flowed from your core, you writhed and silently screamed into the pillows. Miguel kept rutting before quickly pulling out, his hot cum spilling down the small of your back.

He let out a satisfied sigh and flopped down on the bed next to you. The giant laid face down next to you, groaning. 

“Jesus, you’re not that old.” You choke out after a minute of basking in each other's sweaty afterglow. “You’re fine,” You grumble, nudging his calf with your foot.

“I’m just warming down, gimme a minute.” He gruffed, tilting his head to stick his tongue out at you and scrunching his nose. “Bleh,”

“Oh my god, you’re just like Gabriela.” You snicker, rolling on your back to stretch, and looking over his body. Miguel was on his stomach, one of his long legs off the bed as he pressed his face into his pillow. You can’t help but look at him with disgust.

“You have a ridiculously nice ass for a man.” You pout.

“Don’t be jelly,” he scoffed playfully.

“Did Gabriela teach you that word?”

“What, ‘jelly’?” He asked and you nod. “Oh please, I’m well educated in the field of slang. I know about what the kids are saying, ‘on fleek’, ‘yeet’, ‘lit’, you name it. You married a very educated man, lucky you~”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that in literal years…”

“Who?”

“Hmm?”

“Asked.” He said proudly, you let out a groan. This was just middle school all over again.

“Okay, okay, I’m done now, mariposa. I promise.” Miguel giggled, grunting a little before rolling onto his back next to you. He snakes a big hand over you and pulls you atop of him. 

“This is disgusting,” 

“I didn’t even-!” “The sheets, and us. I should get in the shower…” You grumbled, he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you back down to him as you sat up. Your cheek smushed up to his firm pecs. 

“Two more minutes,” He promised, patting your sticky back.

You’ve been getting ready for what felt like hours, your makeup, shoes, hair, jewelry, clothes, accessories. Maybe you were spoiled…sat on the floor of your walk-in closet in nothing but your pretty lingerie, your arms crossed under your chest, you mull over your options for the perfect outfit for your and Miguel’s date tonight.

You check the time on your phone and sigh, deciding to take your chances with that one bodycon cami dress you got months ago. It was cute, I guess. You quickly finish getting ready, your finishing touch being a pretty little necklace with a pendant with the letter M engraved into it. 

The girls were shipped off to your parents house for the night, it was just you two. He cooed and crooned over you, showering you with gifts and peppering your pretty face with kisses. Making your face a little red from his stubble brushing over your cheeks, he booked a nice restaurant nearby for the two of you and came back home for Valentine's Day sex.

After years of marriage and having kids, of course things would often fall into a routine. But after all his gifts and gushing, maybe things won't be so uniform tonight.

The dinner was fine…your alfredo pasta was good so far, and the wine was nice. But Miguel was acting strange ever since you woke him up. He's been red in the face and nervous, which was weird since he was usually so confident and outspoken. 

He was complaining about the wine being expensive, you look up from your pasta to count his forehead creases. 

“It’s like I have to hunt a waiter down for a bottle of wine, wine that's nearly two-hundred dollars. Ridiculous…” He grumbled, you can’t help but roll your eyes as he obnoxiously waved at a waiter. 

“Miggy, please stop. You’re acting like my mother.” You mumble after he spoke to the waiter, you watch the poor twenty something year old disappear into the kitchen to get that bottle.

“Oh please, even I wouldn’t stoop that low.” Miguel scoffed, poking his food with the prongs of his fork like Gabriela did when she didn’t want to eat her dinner and she’d stall for sympathy. You tried making conversation, when that doesn’t really seem to work, something more devious appears in your smile as a sudden idea comes to mind. 

Of course, you’d know how to get him to relax. You prided yourself with that, so you set your little plan to action. You make sure no one in the restaurant was looking in your general direction, you pick up your salad fork, a type fork you may have used twice in your life, and drop it on the fancy dark wood floors of the restaurant. Which, in turn, makes the most loud and annoying ‘ting’ sound, Miguel gives you a look as you freeze. 

“Gosh, clumsy me~” You quickly reassess, making sure no one is looking, you duck to your knees to pick up the fork that somehow got almost completely under the table. It was one of those circular tables with a long red cloth draped on it to the floor. You sneak underneath without anyone suspecting a th-

“What are you doing?” Miguel calmly asks, though you can tell by his tone he’s the human equivalent to a donkey on the edge.

“I’m grabbing my fork,” You answer, though you have passed the fork, crawling on your hands and knees, you make a beeline to your manspreading husband. You rest your chin on the edge of the chair, pressing your soft lips for a fat kiss on his bulge. He jolts when you do, his hands flying to cover his crotch.

“A-amor!” Miguel yelped, his knees hitting the table. Making his wine glass fall, he quickly moved to pick it back up. Giving you just enough time to sloppily unbuckle his belt and pull his slacks down just enough to pull his semi-hard cock out, the table cloth covering his lap up. You smile to yourself before licking your palms to stroke him with both your hands. 

Once he was completely hard in your soft hands, you took his tip in your mouth. Kitten licking it as you stroked with one hand and kneaded his balls with the other. He was trying (and failing) to mask his whimpers and squeaks by sipping his wine. 

“So pretty~” You cooed, slapping his fat cock over your tongue. His pre dripped down his aching shaft from his slit, which you of course greedily lick up. Every noise Miguel made went straight to your sopping pussy, which you were grinding up and down his dress shoe. He grunted, how rude, you’re polishing his cock and shoes, and he dares to complain?

You take a solid four inches into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You wish you could look at his pretty face as he groans and grunts, you nod your head, attempting to fit more into your mouth. 

Relaxing your throat, you take a deep breath in through your nose and breath back out slowly before taking him all the way to his base. Your nose nestles into his trimmed pubic hair while your hands snake forward to dip back into his boxers to give his balls a squeeze. Your drool and his pre dripped from your soft lips and down his balls.

Miguel pressed his palm into his lips, his eyes squeezed shut. His free hand on the crown of your head, his fingers tangled with your hair as he guided you. His thighs shuddered, doing everything in his power to not moan loudly in a crowded restaurant on Valentines day. You try to bob your head but he keeps you down on his cock.

He huffed and his hips buckled to push deeper into you, you gag and tears roll down your cheeks. It only took a few more seconds as hot, white ropes shot down your throat and warmed your belly. You swallow quickly, your moans vibrate against him as you ride him through his orgasm. 

Only when you hear that whimper do you finally slide off of him. Your lips leave the tip with a lewd pop. You give his cock a sweet little kiss, you dry your tears and climb back into your seat, placing your fork back on the table where it belongs with a satisfied smile. He wasn’t glaring anymore, he looks much more relaxed now…

Just from the look alone tells you that you’re in for it when you get home. 

Before Miguel could say a thing, the waiter zips back over to the table to come check up on your dinner. He was about to leave when he paused.

“You’ve got some alfredo sauce on your lips, ma’am.” The waiter said, pointing to his own lips. You squeak out a quick ‘oh!’ and dab your lips with your napkin. Wiping off the ‘alfredo sauce’ as the waiter ran off to another table.

“Don’t,” You sighed, Miguel was smirking, resting his head on his palm. He was relaxed now, and was giggly from the alfredo sauce comment.

“I didn’t even say anything~ though you do look cute with alfredo sauce on your lip.” Miguel said sweetly, swirling his wine glass to watch the red liquid slosh in the cup before raising it to his lip to take a sip. His crimson eyes trained on you. Giving you a look that made your previously soaked panties soaking wet and sticking to your cunt.

“Though you are very much still in trouble.”

Your heel made you slip on the icy doorstep, Miguel’s hand on your waist hoisted you upright before you could fall into the snow. “Careful~” He tutted smugly, unlocking the door for you and you rushed inside the warm home. 

Both you and Miguel had been drinking, you from the embarrassing alfredo sauce incident and Miguel because he was trying to loosen up. You’re both tipsy and stumbling into the kitchen, you go to the sink to pour yourself a big glass of water to sober up. Just as you gulp down the last sip, Miguel comes up behind you, his big, calloused hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

His soft lips find your jaw, he massages your shoulders. The wine made him tipsy and went straight to his dick. Your back pressed against his chest and stomach, your hands on the cool surface of the kitchen counter. Signing softly and nearly letting a moan slip as his hands travel down from your shoulders to rub your clothed breast.

You grip the counter, your shoulders going slack and your back involuntary arching. His thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, you feel his cock hardening from underneath his slacks as he slowly grinds on you. His lips still on your jaw, the tip of his tongue slipping from his lips to press against your soft skin.

Humping your plump ass and squeezing your plush tits was heaven to Miguel, the only thing missing was his cock buried deep into your gushing cunt. 

Tipsy, he decided that’s what he needed, he wrapped a beefy arm around your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder. 

“Miguel!” You squealed, kicking your feet as you slowly began to sober up. He didn’t say anything, just grunting and his hand falling from the small of your back to your butt, pinching the fat to tell you to quiet down. He carried you with ease up the stairs, down the hallway to your shared bedroom. 

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and flopped you down on your back onto the blankets and pillows. You landed back with a squeak of the mattress, your legs dangling off the edge as he straddled your his. His lips crashed into yours, his cheeks painted in a pink hue, his big hands ran up and down your sides

You parted your lips, catching your whines and huffs in his mouth as he pressed your beefy body into you. Trapping you to the bed with his hands, he leaned over you, his kisses searing as he held your wrists up over your head to keep you underneath him. 

When he got tipsy, he wouldn’t be bothered by foreplay. He needed to get right to the good part, his kisses got hungrier and needier with every second that passed. His hands rubbed down your sides, sliding your dress off your body. His eyes wandered and quickly widening when he saw your lack of anything under your dress.

You went rogue on him, you ditched your lingerie in the restaurant bathroom, since your panties were soaked and uncomfortable, and because you too wanted to get to the main event as soon as possible~ He stripped and sat down on the edge of the bed with you on his lap in his favorite position, full nelson. Your legs bent up to fold you in half, your knees on either side of your head with his arms bending you back with his fingers locked with each other behind your neck. It was sort of uncomfortable, but the second he moved his hips, you forgot all about it.

He thrusted sloppily into you, you threw you back on his shoulder almost immediately as his tip practically kissed your womb the first thrust. He didn't stretch you out prior, the burn was enough to make you scream. His hips jutted up and down, your ass slapping down against his pelvis. Filling your bedroom with the sweat slaps of skin hitting skin and your lewd moans. 

Your eyes flick up and cross, he’s been at it for hours it feels like when he actually just started.

“Please, Miggy,” You mewled in his ear. He ignored you, peering over your shoulder to watch your pretty titties bounce from how he was rocking you. Miguel looked angry, like he usually did during sex. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” he commanded in a harsh tone. 

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more, slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down the best you could when you squished and bent into the position. You felt the knot in the pit of your tummy tightening as he speared into you, a ring of cream wrapped around the base of his angry, twitching cock.

All night long, the man fucked you like a fleshlight. Making you cry tears of pleasure and scream his name for all your neighbors to hear. Your knot snapped for what felt like the umpteenth time, your orgasm ripped through you in waves. 

That didn’t stop him though, he’s fucking you like he’s trying to mold your gummy walls to fit his, and only his cock. 

Painting your womb white with ribbons of hot cum for the sixth time, he finally let’s go. His hands slightly raised as if admitting defeat as his chest rose and fell. Sweat rolling down his body as you crawl onto the bed to try to cool down. He falls down on his stomach next to you on his side of the bed. 

You poor thing have been put through the wringer, you’ve came too many times to count, been came in too many times to count, cried, screamed and moaned. Your throat and poor, slutty, pussy been played with and fucked ruthlessly. Your eyes are half lidded when Miguel rolled onto his side to face you.

“Amor…?” Miguel whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm?”

“I need to admit something…I sent you the ramo buchon, even though I told you that your secret admirer sent it to you.” He admitted sheepishly, like he was an embarrassed kid owning up to taking a cookie. It made you chuckle sleepily.

“Yeah…I had a hunch,” You smiled, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He seems genuinely surprised you knew it was him.

“How…-you know what, never mind, mariposa. Happy Valentine's Day to the loveliest girl in the whole multiverse.” He smiled sweetly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissed it softly. 

“Thank you, mi Valentín.” 

[honestsycrets]

omggg I would love to request a "are you really so oblivious?" with Miguel

❛ summary | you're not picking up on any of the signs Miguel is throwing. he's is desperate enough to ask your pupil pavitr for help.

❛ sy's notes | as requested! i will post dad!miguel drabble on wednesday.

❛ sy's tags | pupil pavitr, pavitr being a helpful bug, some anger, some violence, mostly just minor angst and some cuteness.

“She's pretty, no?" Pavitr sings, "You could just assssk her. ”

Miguel doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn't know why he's still trying after the trainwreck that was February. He also doesn’t know why the kid insists that 'help' is bombing his dates just to whisper in his ear. Dates that he feels are dates but you don’t know are dates.

That's what happens when you want a woman who hasn't dated in years.

It’s not enough that he’s stuffed himself into clothes that he doesn’t like, like the black button-up that is a size too small, because that’s the largest size he could find. He leaves a button or two exposed because as Pavitr says, you love to comment on how soft he looks with just a little skin. He has to be soft, too.

As if being soft was ever a good thing for Miguel. It never failed. He gets soft, his life goes complete and utter shit. You’re nibbling a hunk of roti between your thumb and index finger, grinning behind your fingers. You might have heard it, but like many things, you’re not connecting the dots. You never connect the fucking dots.

“Hm, new girlfriend, Pav?”

“Me?” he peeped, his grin ear to ear. “No! Bhaiya has his eye on a girl. A pretty girl.”

The loud cafe was full of beautiful women with thick bangles, kohl-lined eyes, and playful smiles. They spoke about all kinds of things: family life, relationships, friendships, and school. Of every woman here, he finds himself aching to know what goes on behind your eyes, almost troubled with what Pavitr was saying.

“Mi Miguel?” you tilt your head, a set of your gilded earrings clinking as you moved. Pavitr suggested you dress up on purpose-- Despite the power that courses through his upper body, Miguel feels weak. "Not my Miguel."

My Miguel-- Mi Miguel, both sound gorgeous when they come your lips. He could get used to it.

“See, she said ‘mi’, that’s your chance,” he’s whispering in Miguel’s ear. He pinches his brow, rolling the skin between his fingertips. Whatever chance Pavitr thinks he has is slipping away. Miguel can’t be bothered to stop it. This kid can't possibly know how you feel.

“You have to be talking about someone else. All those Spiders in HQ and yet Miguel never goes after them, not one. Mira-- Pav. On San Valentín Miguel gave me flowers, rosas. Of all the girls!”

Fuck. Pav blinked, his gaze following Miguel in his seat. He doesn’t address his humiliation, just lets you chew on it. He closes his eyes, wishing that he could forget that awkward day. It was pathetic, the way he called you into his lab, a bundle of roses in his arms. Just for a kiss on the cheek that proceeded to torment him the rest of the month. Aw, how cute, Miggy.

All that... just to be called cute.

"Maybe he likes you! Did you get him anything?" Pav is trying here, but you’re not picking up on anything that he’s laying down. You laughed it off, awkward as you were.

“Me? No, Miguel-- he doesn't like me,” you clean your hands and lean in your chair. Your sultry eyes fall on Miguel, bidding him to lower his hand from his eyes. He catches your gaze as you ask, "Do you, Miggy?"

"No. You're making assumptions."

Your eyes scan Miguel over, searching for some sort of fault in Miguel's face. Solemn, playing as amused. You don't find any in his hard gaze. You come to the antithesis of what he meant, assuming that he was talking to Pavitr rather than you. Your gaze hardens, shutting him out from the depths of your emotions. Then, your mood turns. It's not like you.

“See? The day Miguel finds a woman is the day I'll find a man." You reach for your tea, lips churning in a frown. " Pero, since he has someone, I should start looking in Nueva York, hm?”

Pavitr grimaces.

“Damn it!” Miguel bites out. His hand slams on the flimsy table, snapping it in two. Your tea spills over your gold dress as Pavitr and you lurch to stabilize it. It didn’t help that there were countless sets of warm eyes boring at Miguel as he stormed through the tiny entrance of the shop to avoid more damage to the poor owner’s store.

Why did he try? He was entirely sick of it. Sick of trying to show how much damn work he was doing to get you to understand how he felt. Pavitr had not helped at all. If anything, he made it worse. At least before-- you weren't looking for someone. When you were alone, just with him, it could be the two of you. No one else mattered. Miguel regrets stomaching his pride just to ask the boy for help. What was he thinking-- asking a teenager about adult issues?

“Miggy!”

He hears your voice but dips into the busy crowd. He sticking out like a sore thumb with his excessive muscle tone and your quick steps, quicker with your spider abilities. If you were anyone else, he would have cut you out of his life. Instead, he’s just a bug stuck in your spider web.

You snatched his watch-clad wrist, whirling him around. He can’t fight your touch, he longs for it, craves it more than he’s craved anything in the past few months. You shove him into a shadowy alleyway. His back connects with the wall, head shifting to the sea of saris and rich color. He isn’t looking at you.

“Miguel O’Hara, look at me.”

“Go find that man you want so much,” he bit out, the words scratching out of his throat as if they had barbs.

“¿Qué? Miguel, you’re-- dios mío. Why are you acting so angry? You didn't want me!”

“Of course, I want you! But you are-- are you really so oblivious?” he shouted, his fist connecting with the wall beside him, A crater forms around his massive hand, shaking loose dust from the building. "Nothing I do is enough."

"Stop," you grasp his hand, bringing them to your hand for a slight kiss. His heart rips into his chest, suddenly unable to tear his eye away from the red stain of lipstick over his knuckles. His irritation cools like cold water meeting a roiling boil, tracking how you shift his large palm to your cheek.

“Perdóname. I thought--” you find yourself mumbling, “You… How could you like me?”

He watches your hand fall away from his, maintaining a hold on your cheek. Even now, he finds you beautiful, soaked in chai all over your gilded gown. He knows why you can’t understand. Since he’s known you, you rarely had a man pursue you because as a girlfriend. Aside from your shapely body, you were the sort of woman men didn’t usually pursue. He knows you don’t like his shouting, it shows in the way your eyes dart to the pebbles under his boots. He tapers down his tone.

“I just do.” He sets a small kiss on your forehead, his hand slipping around to collar your nape. Your fingers turn over his tawny exposed chest, almost shyly so. You could bring him to his knees touching him like that, a gentleness that he’s only longed for since he first fell for you. You’re so close-- yet, nothing is solidified. It could slip away. “¿Y tú?”

“I-- I do, I do too.”

Your cheeks flush. Moreso when he spots Pavitr peeking around the corner, gazing at his thumb stroking your cheek with the most aggravating smile ruptured across his face. Miguel releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, his tone becoming sharp, nearly heartless in the way he says them.

“Soooo, do you... need any more help, Bhaiya?”

“I think we can take it from here, Pav. Thank you for helping me.”

Helping you? Miguel snaps down to look at you. You gaze back into Miguel’s confused eyes with the warmth that he needs at that moment. Pavitr’s picking-- about asking you out, teasing him when you said you’d find someone else-- suddenly makes complete sense. Pav slides away, grinning like the idiot Miguel feels he is.

“What do you mean-- Helping you?”

“Well,” you smiled. “Miggy. He’s my kid. You couldn’t have really thought he’d help you.”

“No. Apparently not."

[nouies]

hello and welcome to the april fic rec featuring my favourite works from the few i read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —  

໑ I Dig Your Cinema by @silverstuff50 (E, 13k, exes to lovers, famous/non-famous au, actor harry, second chances) It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to see Harry’s latest film; it was a tragically pathetic fact that Louis had watched every single show and film, every interview, every red carpet that Harry had done since his ex-boyfriend had decided to leave Uni in the second year and pursue an acting career.

It's just that he wanted to watch it on his own, in his flat, with a soft blanket, beer, ice cream, and a large box of tissues.

໑ (WIP) siren calls me home by @shimmeringevil (E, 48k+, enemies to lovers, a/b/o royalty au, read tags and author’s notes) Harry and Louis’ kingdoms have rivaled one another for ages. When the time comes for Prince Louis to choose a mate, Harry’s father puts him in the running for his hand. But Harry has no intentions of marrying the omega. He is only using the opportunity to investigate and expose Louis’ sordid past, where rumors of fornication and murder abound, and bring justice down on his rival once and for all.

— rare pairs —  

໑ take me somewhere, with a world less silent by orphan_account (louis/dev patel, E, 3k, established relationship, domesticity, pwp) Louis' boyfriend comes home earlier than expected from a trip. Domesticity and fluffiness ensue.

໑ fucking valentine’s day by puppyvirginloui (spanish, louis/aaron taylor-johnson, NR, 12.7k, enemies to lovers, college au, read tags) Nada puede ser peor que estar encerrado en una estúpida tienda sex shop con tu peor enemigo, excepto que puede ser peor porque, por supuesto es el maldito día de San Valentín.

[paulmescal-s]

Did a bit of research on Diego Luna’s Kiss of the Spider Woman movie, currently filming. Putting some little factoids behind the cut because there are minor spoilers.

Honestly: I'm super excited.

They are filming in New Jersey (Elizabeth, to be precise).

They are filming in April and May.

They are expected to be done by mid-June, as JLo starts her concert tour at the end of that month.

The movie is updated slightly to take place in Buenos Aires in 1981 during/after the Dirty War. (The novel took place in 1975.)

Diego is playing Valentín Arregui Paz, the role made famous in the last version of the film by Raúl Julia.

Valentín is a Marxist political prisoner.

Valentín has less solo songs than the other main characters, but still does quite a bit of singing.

Valentín spends a lot of time recovering from torture and beatings inflicted on him by his jailers. He is a bit of a morally grey character (I’m intrigued to see what choices they make in this go-round).

Tonatiuh plays Molina, a hairdresser jailed for "corruption of a minor" (usually read as having a relationship with a younger man, though in the past Molina has also been portrayed as fairly young — the homosexuality is more the crime than the age difference).

JLo plays Aurora, an actress Molina has been obsessed with for years and who gets him through his imprisonment via his fantasies/imagination of her roles and her power.

Molina and Aurora are the main narrators of the film and carry the most musical numbers.

Diego is an Executive Producer on the film (along with JLo and her team; Ben Affleck; and Matt Damon).

There's no expected release date just yet, but likely aiming for an early 2025 premiere.

[gucciwins]

valentine’s day sweethearts 

a/n: hola amores! feliz día de san valentín! happy valentine’s day!!! you’re all my valentine’s 🤍🤍🤍 sending you lots of hugs and kisses 😘 happy reading 🤍

word count: 2725

midnight kiss // birthday kiss

+

Valentine’s day.

A day to shower friends and loved ones with even more love on a special day. Y/N remembers in grade school how excited she was to give out notes to everyone in her class receiving sweet treats. Her dad would always show up with flowers for Y/N and her brother. Daisies for him and tulips for Y/N. While their mom got two bouquets instead of her one. Y/N’s father always brought home a new bouquet for her mom during the week. Her parents showed her that love can be shown in the smallest and largest ways.

Y/N had a tradition: she went to her friend’s apartment and gifted them a bouquet of flowers. It was a small gesture but a reminder that she loved her friends and was thinking of them. Harry promised her he’d see her for dinner. He promised her they wouldn’t be going out but would need her to arrive at his apartment by six pm. Harry wanted to pick her up, but his car was in the shop, and Y/N assured him it was fine for her to drive over. That she would be able to stay the night and drive to work the next morning was no big deal. It makes Harry happy when she decides to sleep over.

“Happy Valentine’s day!” Y/N greets her friend Crystal who opens the door, still dressed in her teddy bear pajamas. The surprise is clear on her face welcoming Y/N with a warm hug.

“You sweet angel,” Crystal motions for her to come in, but Y/N shakes her head.

Y/N gestures to her car, “have a few more stops to make.”

Crystal holds a hand over her heart. “I’m so lucky to call you my friend.”

“See you for brunch Sunday?” Y/N calls over her shoulder as she approaches her car.

“Mimosas on me,” Crystal promises.

Y/N from there visited Maisie, Enrique, Sasha, and Ariana. Her friend group was small, but it was mighty. She met most of her friends at uni except for Maisie, who was her neighbor growing up. She loved her friends and constantly reminded them in her own way. Everyone was happy to see her; Maisie, the only one who seemed to remember she did this each year, greeted her with fresh cinnamon rolls and freshly brewed coffee.

Y/N gasps as she accepts the gifts, “do-do you love me?”

Maisie would roll her eyes, not even bothering to answer Y/N, and instead sent her on her way home with a full stomach because she had someone coming over. It seems Y/N wasn’t the only one getting lucky tonight. Y/N had even repeatedly reminded her brother not to call her today for any reason. Gus got lonely on holidays because his girlfriend was out of town traveling for work, but Y/N reminded him it wasn’t her job to be taking care of her older brother.

Before arriving home, Y/N stopped at the market, wanting to run in and grab a few strawberries because she wanted to take a small dessert to Harry’s for them to share. Arriving home, she’s quick to settle everything in her kitchen, knowing she must melt the dark chocolate and wash the strawberries. Y/N plays the playlist Harry shared with her a few days ago that he said reminded him of her. Y/N thought it was sweet. She never had someone dedicate a song to her, let alone a whole playlist. It made her heart flutter whenever she heard a song about falling in love because Y/N was sure she felt ready to say those words to Harry but knew it was too soon. She’d let her feelings grow. No need to add pressure on herself over their relationship when it’s going well.

Y/N thought it was a little cheesy to wear a pink dress, but she had been saving it for a special occasion and knew it would be perfect for today. The dress has a flirty square neckline, lace up on the shoulders, and ruffles on the hem. The pink fabric shines differently under the light; she pairs it with a pearl necklace her grandmother gifted her before she passed away; to tie the look together, she wore her black Mary Janes. They were her favorite pair of shoes, and Y/N knew she’d be able to pair all her outfits with these specific shoes.

Y/N: on my way xx

Harry: drive safe xx

Harry: door will be unlocked xx

Y/N: that’s not safe. xx

Harry: i’ll wait for you outside then xx

The drive over is quick, something she’s thankful for because she’s excited to see Harry. Y/N knows she saw him last night when he stopped by the shop to bring her dinner. A burger and fries. She had told him she’d been craving one, and he thought it’d be nice to see her and make sure she was fed. He was kind enough to bring Gus a burger even though he was why Y/N had to stay late that night. Y/N’s tattoo appointment got scheduled last night as well. Gus promised her she could have it done whenever the benefits of being his sister, but Harry wanted to make sure to pick the day with her so that he could ask for the day off from work and take care of her. It would be happening soon enough, and Y/N couldn’t wait.

As promised, Harry is outside waiting for her as she pulls into his empty parking space. Harry quickly bounces over to her door, swinging it open before she even has time to unbuckle herself. His excitement is evident, and Y/N can’t help but let it rub off on her.

“Hi, poppet,” Harry takes her hand, helping her out of her car. Y/N pats down her dress before letting Harry bring her in for a hug. Harry takes a moment to breathe her in, “smell so sweet, love.”

“Yeah?” Y/N lifted her head, “it’s this new perfume I wanted to try.”

Harry grinned; he knew it wasn’t the same. She normally had a vanilla smell, but now she smelled like his mother’s rose garden and a basket of freshly picked strawberries. “It’s perfect,” he assures her. “Where’s your bag? Let me carry it up for you.” Harry lets go of her with a kiss on her cheek, going to open the backseat when Y/N tries to stop him.

“Harry, wait,” but he’s too quick.

He opens the car door to find a bouquet of yellow and white daisies wrapped with a large pink bow. Next to it is a crocheted heart. He reaches for it carefully, holding it in his arms. Harry knows it was handmade, the closing stitch is a bit wonky and maybe a little overstuffed, but Harry loves it because Y/N made it.

“Is-is this for me?” Harry asks, surprised.

“No, it’s for my side piece,” she jokes, and by the light laugh Harry lets out, she knows he picked up on teasing. “It’s for you, H. The flowers reminded me of you, and thought you deserved a piece of my heart,” she whispers the last bit, but Harry catches every word.

He picks up the flowers, cradling them carefully. He stares at his gifts with awe, and Y/N fills with joy, knowing he loves the gifts she got him.

“You’re an angel, Y/N. Thank you. Not so sure about my gift now,” he tells her honestly.

Y/N’s face lights up at the word gift. She didn’t expect to receive anything from him. “You got me a gift?”

Harry pinches her cheeky lightly, “course I did, poppet.”

A simple touch from Harry has her melting in her spot, “you didn’t have to.”

Harry is always surprised by her. He knows he didn't have to get her a gift, just like she didn't need to get him one. He enjoys making her smile, whether it’s making her different origami with the paper he keeps tucked in his car or making sure his apartment is stocked with her favorite popcorn. “I wanted to, poppet. Now let's head on up.” Harry sniffs the flowers before passing them to Y/N to carry. He throws Y/N’s overnight on his shoulder, the heart she crochets in his hand, then holds her hand, guiding them up to his apartment. Y/N knows the way. Of course, she does, but let’s him indulge in looking out for her.

She takes her bag back from him, taking it to his room while he goes to put his flowers in a vase. He takes a second to admire the flowers, taking a photo to send to his mum and show off his new plushie and flowers. Y/N meets him in the kitchen with a box in her hand. She hands it off to him without saying anything. He’s too curious to even think about asking her what could be inside. He opens the pink box and finds an assortment of chocolate-covered strawberries inside.

“Poppet, these look amazing!” Harry takes one out and brings it to his mouth, eager to take a bite, when he pauses to look at Y/N. “Can I eat one, or are we saving it for later?”

“Try it, H.” Y/N encourages him, wanting to know how they turned out.

He takes a bite, and the sweetness fills his mouth. Harry notices the bitterness of the chocolate pairs well with the strawberries' rich flavor.

“Mhmm…it’s wonderful, poppet. Give it a try.” Harry extends his hand for her to take the rest of his berry, but she ignores it instead, stepping closer to him. He feels his brain freeze, having her close in his space, able to smell her unique scent. Y/N smiles at the bit of chocolate stain on the corner of his mouth.

“Poppet, don’t yo–” Y/N cuts him off by kissing him. She melts against him, tasting the chocolate. Harry melts against Y/N, allowing her to explore his mouth, getting her own taste of the sweet concoction. He wishes the kiss would never end, but Y/N pulls back breathless, a smirk on her face.

“You’re right. It was yummy.” She wipes away the bit of chocolate left on the corner of his mouth, popping her finger. Harry feels dizzy watching her effortlessly make him lose his mind. “Happy Valentine's day, Harry. Thanks for being my sweetheart.” The blush on Harry’s face is profound, but he doesn’t mind one bit, not when she’s looking at him like she wants to eat him alive.

“Come on, I got to show you your present.” Harry steals one more kiss before taking her to the small backyard, where he has a shady lemon tree that will soon blossom with flowers, and she can’t wait for the day Harry makes her the lemonade he promised.

The backyard is decorated with string lights and a projector screen. A large blanket is spread out with an endless supply of pillows and food displayed on one side. Y/N even spots a large bowl of kettle corn, her favorite. “Dirty Dancing!” Y/N exclaims as she focuses on the screen in front of her. Harry kept telling her he’d never watch it and that it was overrated, but she didn’t know that his older sister made him watch it over and over again because one day, someone would come into his life, and he needed to be prepared. Harry had planned everything out perfectly for them. Y/N pouts feeling overwhelmed. She doesn’t even realize her emotions start coming out as tears until Harry scoops her up in his arms and shushes her promising to change anything she doesn’t like. “No!” She yells. “Don’t change anything. It’s perfect.”

Harry brushes away her tears, careful not to smear the pink eyeliner she worked hard to get perfect. “Then what are the tears for? Hmm…”

Y/N hides her face against his chest, “i-i-it’s everything. You took the time to do this lovely setup for us. Makes me feel special.”

“Will you look at me, poppet?” Harry asks softly. She lifts her head, meeting his kind eyes. “There’s my pretty girl. I promise to always keep surprising you. It’s not just going to be on silly little holidays.”

Y/N grins and kisses him. She knows he wanted today to be special, not that she expected anything. All she wanted was to spend the day with him, cuddling and kissing. That would be enough to make her happy.

“Thank you, Harry.”

They settle on the blankets and watch the film. Y/N starts off watching the movie and eating snacks but slowly changes her focus to Harry, who’s watching the movie intently. She stares at him, admiring his beauty and his festive outfit. He’s wearing black corduroy pants with a white cardigan that has different colored hearts stitched all around. Her favorite part has to be the hearts on his nails. Y/N wishes she had gotten the idea, but she hopes she can convince him to get his nails done with her next month. Something tells her it won’t be hard to get him to say yes.

She’s lost in thought until Harry throws popcorn at her forehead. She watches it land on her lap before turning to Harry, who can’t stop laughing. “Sorry, poppet. You were lost. I needed to bring you back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, picks up the popcorn, and pops it into her mouth. “Yummy.”

“What were you thinking?” Harry looks at her, intrigued, forgetting about the movie.

She shrugs, “about you.”

Harry feels his cheek burn but doesn’t dare look away from her. “Me? Little ol’ me,” he jokes.

“Thinking we should get our nails done together.” Y/N flashes him her chipped yellow nails. Harry smiles because it’s a thought he had when he went to get them done with his friend Ash.

“I’ll set up an appointment for us,” he tells her, and just like that, Y/N knows Harry’s her perfect match. Y/N had a hard time dating, continually fearing that her partner would get tired of spending time with her, but here Harry is happy to indulge her in getting their nails done together.

Harry reaches forward, brushing her hair away, “you’ve become my favorite person, Y/N.” He looks at her so intently that all she can do is kiss him. His hand rests on her cheek as he deepens the kiss. It’s easy to get lost in each other, enjoying the taste of cherry cola and sweet caramel popcorn. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” Y/N rests her head against one of the pillows, letting Harry cuddle closer to her. He lets out a deep breath reaching over for another strawberry Y/N made, and takes a bit. Y/N doesn’t feel the need to rush him, knowing he’s opening up at his own pace. “I never cared about Valentine’s day,” Harry confesses as he finishes the strawberry in his hand.

Harry smiles as he catches Y/N watching him. She’s smiling at him, and Harry knows he’ll never get tired of her smile. “I-I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated this holiday. Always gift my friends flowers and call it a day. The shop is usually busy. Gus does tattoo flashes for a few holidays. It’s another normal day,” Y/N shrugs, trying to brush off how much today actually means to her.

He nods, “I think any day spent with you is special.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “you did not just say that!”

“What?” Harry laughs, confused. “I was being sincere.”

“You’ve been sweet the entire evening, and that’s enough, Harry.”

The rest of the night is spent sharing childhood stories and awful university first dates. It’s clear Harry has had the worst, but Y/N thinks she’s had the most embarrassing. It doesn’t matter because, at the end of the day, they’re just stories to be shared. Y/N doesn’t know where she and Harry will be in three months, let alone a year, but she knows the memories she’s creating with Harry will be worth sharing.

[prontaentrega]

@fluctuating-fixations It's mostly about some specific word choices that don't really change the plot or the whole direction of the story so it's not like, an entirely different book, but they alter the whole tone of it and makes it worse to me. The first thing i noticed I didn't like about it was when Valentín first mentions Marta and he says "my girl" i immediately went he would not fucking say that!!!!!

In the original Spanish the word he uses for Marta is "compañera" which translates to partner or comrade (F). It's not the most common word to talk about your girlfriend in spanish so it's a deliberate choice on his part. What was the need to change it? to make it sound more natural? to make him sound less political?

In that same page he goes on to talk about his guerrilla comrades and he actually uses the word compañeros for them. The masculine/neutral form of the word he uses for Marta

But the one that really annoyed me is this one

Because in this part the word he uses in Spanish is, again, compañera. And idk about you but i think it has a completely different meaning if you say "if she's my woman, it's because she's in the struggle too" or if you say "if she's my comrade/partner, it's because she's in the struggle too." And besides he would never call anyone "his woman" it's just completely contrary to his whole character... this and a bunch of other small stuff like it mischaracterizes Valentín as more of a macho figure than he really is. And this is an issue i have with literally every adaptation and translation of this book tbh everyone's always so fixed on making this college educated communist latino more violent and sexist and angry. I wonder why

This one's minor but it also bothers me, when talking about the panther woman movie there's a character that in Spanish is "the architect colleague" but in English she's "the assistant" ????? what reason was for that other than misogyny

Maybe this is a non-issue and I'm nitpicking but with the book's narrative being exclusively a dialogue between two people, word choice is fundamental because this is the only way we have of knowing these characters. And especially on a book where gender expression and gender roles are such a main theme this is not like, getting mad because they switched coffe for tea on a sentence. Which I'm also mad about btw. They completely ditch any mention of the characters drinking mate and switch it for tea. Once again I'm asking what was the point? to make it all less exotic? to make it easier to understand to English speakers? having to look up what a mate is or just guess it from context isn't gonna kill anybody, but the translation is so afraid of alienating its gringo audience that it discards cultural context and reduces its only two characters to shallower versions of themselves. And I'd say the cultural context is pretty relevant because this is a book about two political prisoners under a dictatorship that was written and published when Puig's own country was under a neoliberal dictatorship. It's not Vonnegut's cat's cradle with a made up dictator in a made up country, this was actually the situation in Argentina in 1976.

And obviously someone who only speaks english won't notice any of this. What makes me sad about this is that none of the problems i have with it have to do with impossible cultural clashes, it would be extremely simple to fix all of that. It's a tragedy that the only english translation of a latin american book about gender and propaganda was made in 1976. But still I'd rather someone read the book even with the bad translation than not read it at all

[capseisen]

Val + Skye Lineless Portraits + The Terrible Trio ,, March 2022

[hollow15]

Ella es Puffy, es mi Oc de Welcome home,

Es dulce, amable, sabe cantar y consoladora, si necesitas ayuda ella podrá ayudarte. ¡Es increíblemente fuerte!, ella no habla con muchos asique hay que conocerla paso a paso, tonto por tonto XD. Cocina pero aveces se le dificulta si son demasiados ingredientes o demasiada comida. Tiene hermanos si lo preguntas pero eso será para después.

Le encanta estar con Barnaby ya que fue el primero en ser el vecino que vio (además de Wally claro) le enseño trucos y chistes y ella se reía pero cada vez que le hablaba más y más se congela... es su modo de procesar todo y por qué no sabe manejar muy bien si le hablas demasiado, como dice "Hablar en un tono calmado, alivia la cabeza"

Y por supuesto, ella ama el ballet, tuvo que ser más "Flexible" para sacar a sus hermanos adelante y a ella ya que tenía que cuidarlos sin la necesidad de padres... Por eso también eh de mencionar que es muy maternal o sabe manejar un poco con niños (Oh bueno ella es lo que piensa)

—♥️Dibujo de San Valentín♥️—

Ahora en inglés

This is Puffy, she is my Oc from Welcome home,

She is sweet, kind, knows how to sing and is a comforter, if you need help she will be able to help you. She's incredibly strong! She doesn't talk to many so you have to get to know her step by step, fool by fool XD. He cooks but sometimes it is difficult if there are too many ingredients or too much food. He has brothers if you ask but that will be for later.

She loves being with Barnaby since he was the first neighbor she saw (besides Wally of course) he taught her tricks and jokes and she laughed but every time he talked to her more and more she freezes... it's her way of processing everything and why he doesn't know how to handle it very well if you talk to him too much, as he says "Talking in a calm tone eases the head"

And of course, she loves ballet, she had to be more "Flexible" to support her siblings and herself since she had to take care of them without the need for parents... That's why I should also mention that she is very maternal or knows how to drive. a little with children (Oh well she is what she thinks)

[sp00kymulderr]

Desiderium

San Valentín part 2

Series masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, Angst angst angst, possessive sex, jealousy, light choking, Javi is a menace and also can’t handle his feelings, dirty talk, love but it’s all kinda fucked up

Word Count: 3k

For months you had convinced yourself the only feelings you had for Javier were carnal; fuelled by those hot Colombian nights and the constant frustration of your job, that it was nothing more than a casual fling for the both of you. But since Valentine’s Day, and the jumble of emotion brought to the forefront in your mind, it has become clear to you that you’re already in way too deep and want far more from this than you ever thought you would.

Even knowing that, things go on the same way for weeks longer; you and Javier, Javier and seemingly every other woman in Bogotá. And each time you swear it’s the last, but then he gives you that look and tells you how much he needs you and before you know it you’re giving yourself over to him once more. Begging him for it again and again, even as you feel how much it blackens your heart to do so. After all, you had known from the beginning that Javier does anything he can for the job, and you promised him you’d wouldn’t let it get to you.

But when you’ve memorised every pattern of the damp-stained ceiling of his bedroom, and what feels like the schedule of half the women in the city you have to do something to get him off your mind. Find a way to stop your heart racing every time he says your name in that quiet, seductive drawl you’ve come to know all too well.

You’re not proud of how you deal with the situation, how you try to get him off your mind. Desperately attempting to shove those feelings back in to the deep, dark Pandora’s box that they were locked in by finding another man who might be able to make you feel as good – specifically Jason, a CIA lackey you’d had drinks with once or twice outside of work before.

Jason isn’t unattractive, and you knew he liked you, he’d made it pretty clear before. You’d always been curious so it’s not exactly a hardship for you to make a move that ends up with him back at your place on a stuffy Thursday night fuelled by too much drink. Sure he isn’t like Javier, but few men are and you’d already known that. When he fucks you it isn’t so desperately passionate, but it’s nice and you’d like that to be enough. 

You hate yourself for wishing it was Javier, every single moment.

Nothing feels right when it isn’t Javier. And unfortunately that’s how you know you love him, and if anything is going to land you in a pit of distress it’s figuring out that you’re in love with your co-worker and the man who’s known in every local brothel.

You’re a fucking idiot. What do you do? What can you do? Javier has always been caring towards you, he gives you attention and affection and makes you feel more wanted than any man ever has. It wouldn’t be impossible that he feels the same way, that he wants more but is too uncertain to ask for it.

If your choices are to be unfulfilled for the rest of your life, or be the first one to confess your feelings you know what you need to do. You have to tell him.

--- The next evening, you find yourself with shaking hands at his door. You have this whole admission memorised, knowing every word you want to tell him. When he opens the door to you and he’s in that black shirt you have to force yourself to concentrate so you don’t forget the entire speech.

Javier looks you up and down with a smirk before letting you in to the apartment, stubbing out his cigarette before he offers you a drink. Your throat feels so dry you gladly accept.

“Heard you had a good time last night” he states matter-of-factly, with what you might consider a hint of jealously in his voice. The walls are thin, but neither of you had exactly been loud so it takes you by surprise that he’d open with that.

“Uh, yeah. I went out for a drink with some of the CIA guys. It was fine” you shrug, not giving anything away. It’s odd, that you feel so guilty about it and you wonder if that’s how Javi feels after his various rendezvous.

“I think Jason might have enjoyed it more than that, saw him leaving this morning looking pretty pleased with himself” he notes in a low voice and bitter, making you shiver despite the heat.

“Oh. Well...yeah, we slept together. It-it was nice” you babble sheepishly, unconvincing.

“But you’re here tonight” Javier reminds you, giving you that look - the one that always gets you in to all kinds trouble. He’s drawing you to him until he’s leaning over you and his lips are almost on yours.

“I’m here” you agree dumbly, goosebumps raising on your skin where his fingers are tracing up your back.

When he kisses you it’s so easy and nice and you melt in to him, letting him deepen it as his hands hold you firm to him. You know straight away tonight isn’t going to go the way you had planned, but you follow his lead unable to stop yourself once he brings out your desire.

He has you immediately, it shouldn’t be a surprise by now. Every time he touches you, you turn to jelly and he can shape you and move you however he wants. He holds so much sway over you when you’re alone together and he knows it. Already removing your clothes, his hands roaming your body and he discards your t-shirt then helps you step out of your pants with your lips only parting for a matter of seconds. You let him guide you and give yourself over to him with no hesitation, desperate for the affection.

The tight grip of his hands on your hips is devastating, he’s so demanding as he pulls you with him on to the ugly old couch that you’ve always hated. Everything is too hot, his touch scorching against your skin until you feel almost dizzy with it. The climate of the small, familiar room is heady, stifling – your breath catching even before he’s got you straddling him and is pushing the flimsy lace fabric of your underwear to one side.

“Did you get this wet for him too?” he murmurs darkly as his fingers begin to explore you, one digit slipping inside you with ease already. You can’t fathom how to answer, the question takes you by surprise and you can’t tell what kind of game he’s trying to play. Thankfully he doesn’t demand a response, instead enjoying the beautiful gasps he’s eliciting from you as he withdraws and finds your clit – circling it so slowly it’s almost frustrating.

It’s difficult to remember how you felt just half an hour ago, when you had been so sure how tonight would go. Your big speech—the whole stupid plan—expelled from your memory as he presses two fingers in this time and curls them inside of you until you’re squirming with delicious pleasure. Javier always manages this so easily it’s embarrassing; turning you in to a speechless wreck with his talented fingers and some well placed kisses against your neck and collarbone, his thumb circling your clit with so little pressure it barely counts at all.

Grinding down against his hand you will him to give you more, letting your eyes do the begging until he obliges you. You tighten your grasp on the back of his neck, arching your back as his thumb presses harsher against your clit and sends tightening shocks to your core. It’s so sinful how this feels, you naked save the forgotten lace and him fully clothed and holding you close as he fucks you with his fingers. His teeth then tongue dragging along your skin, free hand following to pull and pinch at your nipples.

He’s built up a punishing rhythm with his fingers and his thumb, working you until he feels you tense and tighten. He knows you’re close, has seen it enough times by now, and for a moment some cruelty crosses his features that makes you think he’s going to stop. Perhaps if his cock wasn’t so painfully straining in his pants he would, but instead he increases his tempo until you’re arching and moaning his name in to the heavy air.

“That’ right, that’s it” he moans against your skin, lips ghosting across your too-hot flesh “I want you to cum all over my fingers and then clean them up for me while I fuck you. Do you want that? Taste yourself while I fill you up? You’re so beautiful when you come for me - let me see, show me baby”

If you weren’t so close to breaking point you might be taken aback by the filth coming from his mouth, he’s not usually so much of a talker and certainly not like this. But you’d be lying if you said his words didn’t spur you on more and you kiss him hard in some attempt to etch the obscene words in to your memory. You pull back when the orgasm hits, knocking the breath out of you until you’re quivering.

Javi’s fingers work you through it but he doesn’t stop when you do, still rubbing over the now sensitive nub with unabashed determination as his fingers continue to hit against that perfect spot. It’s too much but, christ, it could never be enough.

“Fuck, Javi” you gasp, not even finished with the first when another wave of pleasure submerges you and leaves you crying out for him – eyes squeezed shut so tight you feel a tear slide down your cheek. The second orgasm lands quicker than the first but leaves you dazed and motionless against him save your heaving chest and thumping heart so loud to you it could wake the dead.

Wet fingers trail your thighs as he manhandles you on to your knees, pulling your underwear off of you and letting you collapse against the arm of the couch for a moment as he positions himself behind you. You don’t have to tell him how much you need it, pushing back against him with a whimper when he rubs himself against you, coating his cock in your slick.

“Ple-” your voice is hoarse, more a moan than an actual word coming out of you. “Please, Javi. I need you, I fucking need you inside me right now. Please” you whine, and oh it spurs him on.

You don’t get to finish whatever string of supplications you were about to start, instead whimpering quietly as he pushes easily in to you and slowly, achingly fills you with his thick length to the hilt. He’s taking his time and you can’t decide if it’s to torture you or just so he can take as much pleasure from you as possible. Damned if you care at this point.

When he stills to let you both get reacquainted with the feel of him filling you so well, he brings an arm around you and guides you up until your back hits his chest. His breath lands hot on your neck, placing a rough kiss against your salty skin and letting his lips trail up and over the back of your ear as he starts to move his hips tortuously languidly – making you feel every inch of him pressing in to you. You’re already seeing stars when he taps his fingers against your mouth until you take them in, letting you taste yourself on him. The whole act is so lascivious and indecent, but it feels better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Does anyone else make you feel like this, fuck you like this? Did he make you beg the way you do for me?” He questions, speaking right against your ear and pulling you harder against his chest, locking you there with a strong arm as his thrusts up in to you with increasing fervour.

God, you can barely think but that pulls you in to some more lucid state for a moment. Is he serious? Asking you that. You think he’s getting off on it, thinking of you with another man and then asking you to confess your sins to him. You don’t entirely want to give in to his game, but you’d never be able to deny it doesn’t turn you on a little too much. If the unfathomable roll of his hips wasn’t making you feel so delirious, maybe you’d have more sense than to answer him the way you do.

“Javi, no one else comes close to you-” you gasp out as he roughly gropes your breasts and his other hand presses against your stomach, making a slow trail downwards “You make me feel- feel so so good.” You moan out as he thrusts so hard in to you now that your legs are beginning to shake.

When Javier brings his fingers back to your overstimulated clit, you lose yourself entirely. He could make you recount every single moment of last nights tryst and you would willingly do so and then you’d beg him for forgiveness. Any self control you might’ve had to take back the power that is so obviously in his hands perishes the moment he moans your name against your ear and you beg him never to stop.

“You make me lose my mind” you whisper, not even sure if he can hear it. It’s the most simple truth, you’re not in control of yourself any more.

He doesn’t respond, lost in his own pleasure as he grunts and groans behind you when you tighten around him as he continues to do his best to divert you from reality completely. A hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, that’s the thing that finishes you off and whatever you were going to cry out in that moment merely comes out as a serious of incoherent whines and whimpers.

“fuck that’s it, come for me just like that. Just for me” he groans as you come down from the heavens.

For a minute your vision goes blurry at the edges as he changes his tempo again, and his fingers are still on your clit just pressing there. You wonder if he’s actually trying to destroy you for a minute, but then he’s tensing up and pushing completely in to you. He finishes inside of you, holding you so tight you can’t feel anything other than him until he’s emptied every last drop in you, and then finally you’re both collapsing together on to the pillows beneath you.

Even if you could find your voice, you wouldn’t know what to say. Javier mutters some obscenity in Spanish as he pulls out of you but nothing more, and you’re glad that he doesn’t let you go – instead draping his arm over you and kissing your shoulder softly. It’s so peaceful, lying there in his arms, that you almost forget the turmoil still ongoing in your mind for the 15 minutes that it takes for you both to get your breathing back to normal and regain some feeling in your body.

He’s gently pushing aside the hair stuck to your forehead when you finally bring yourself to speak.

“Javi that was.... I don’t think I can move”

“Don’t, stay here” he murmurs, voice so soft you’re taken aback by it. How can he go from being so demanding of you to so gentle in just a moment?

You turn to face him and he looks calm, relaxed, happy to have you with him.

This has to be your moment, right? The way he looks at you right now seems to mirror the way he makes you feel, like you’ve got something to live for. You run your fingers over his cheek and along his jaw, taking in his handsome face and for-once untroubled demeanour – this is how you always want to see him.

You have to say it, this is the right time.

“I think I love you, Javi” you whisper your admission shyly, eyes meeting his and a soft smile on your lips “I think we should try...to make a go of things”

Javier’s expression changes in an instant. He sighs, breaking your eye contact and then he’s sitting up away from you.

“I just- I hated myself last night, it didn’t feel right” you scramble, “Like it should have been you not him and I always want it to be you...” you follow suit, sitting and immediately feeling so horribly exposed as he does everything he can to not meet your eyes. 

“Javi?”

He hangs his head, murmuring your name with such disappointment that anger bubbles up and you feel a rush of heat to your face - you stand to find and pull on your clothes, whole body vibrating with embarrassment. How could you have read the situation so absurdly wrong?

“Don’t do this, we’ve got a good thing going and you know it can’t be more than that” he tells you with so little emotion in his voice that you feel tears start to sting in your eyes,

Snatching your t shirt that had been flung to the other side of the couch, you try to keep some semblance of balance in your voice when you speak again.

“But we were so- I thought you cared about me. You were so...so- I thought you cared? And what? You don’t want me?”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t fucking cry.

He shakes his head and whether you imagine the pained look in his eyes is unclear, but when he answers you know everything is screwed and as selfish as it makes you, you wish you’d kept your stupid mouth shut

“No. I’m sorry”

So that’s how Javier Peña breaks your heart.

[beatleswings]

alright thats a big one, cardon has kids right? wanna give us some information about them? their bday, when theyre born, maybe who is their godparent(s) >:3

CarDon kiddos, you ask? Oooh this is gonna be a ride so get ready!! (Note: I have yet to draw them so....I'll be using the picrews I made of them for visuals).

So Don and Carmen do end up having kids, five to be exact! They wanted a big family.

Their first born is a girl, Valentina Pilar Escamillo de la Rosa. She was born on February 16, just two days after Valentine's Day AKA Carmen's birthday hence her name. Pilar...was from one of the girl names they were going to give her, María de Pilar, before Don and Carmen were informed that she would be born on or around Valentine's Day, hence the love themed name. Had she been a boy, she would have been named Valentín or Amador ("lover" in Spanish) or both. She may not have been born on the 14th but the following day, Carmen started having contractions the night of February 15 and eventually went into labor and of course the 16th, the little one was born, at around 6am! Valentina resembles her mother but has most of her father's coloring such as his hair color and eye color. Her godparents are Narcis Prince and Aran Ryan. Don wasn't sure if Aran was "godfather" material but was somewhat relieved when he saw little Valentina giggling at Aran.

Luis Martín Escamillo de la Rosa is Don and Carmen's second child, a son. He was born on February 26, three years and 10 days after his older sister. He is named after his maternal grandfather, Carmen's father Luis, and his second name, after Carmen's maternal grandfather (her mom's dad) Martín Álvarez. Like his mother, he is mostly referred to by his second name instead of his first. He resembles his father a lot, so much, he's like a clone of him but he does inherit some of his mother such as her hazel eyes. His godparents are Valeria and Masked Muscle.

Nicolás Raúl Escamillo de la Rosa and Rosario Elisa Escamillo de la Rosa are Don and Carmen's third and fourth children, in other words...they're twins! They were born on March 19, three years after Martín, six years after Valentina and on the first day of Spring. The twins were born 5 minutes apart, first Nicolás and then Rosario. Despite it was twins, Carmen still went for a natural birth anyway.

Nicolás or Nico as he is called, got his names picked by Carmen. She liked the name Nicolás but his middle name Raúl, Carmen got that after the actor Raul Julia, the actor who played Gomez Addams in the 90s Addams Family movies. Carmen loved his portrayal of him. Rosario's names? Don picked them. He was going to name her Rosalina but Rosario is one that stuck to him. Elisa comes from his paternal grandmother (his dad's mom) Elisa. The twins resemble Don the most but have most of Carmen’s coloring such as her blonde hair and hazel eyes. I definitely see their godmother being Dolcita.

Antonio Samuel Escamillo de la Rosa is Don and Carmen's fifth and youngest child. He was born on March 10, nine years after Valentina, six years after Martín and three years after Nicolás and Rosario. Unlike the previous births, Carmen had some complications and had to give birth to Antonio via C-section. Thankfully she and baby were okay. After the complications, Carmen and Don decided to stop having kids and plus, with five, the family feels complete now. :)

Don decided to give his second name Antonio to him and his middle name? That comes from Don's maternal grandfather Samuel Márquez. Little Antonio resembles Carmen a lot, her older siblings even point out how much it feels like they're seeing little Carm again, but he does have Don’s features like his brown eyes. I'm still deciding on a godparent or godparents for little Toño, once I think of one, I'll update this.

Aside from having their own aunts and uncles from each of their parents' sides, they also see their parents' friends as their aunts and uncles too and if their parents' friends had kids, they're honorary cousins.

As you can tell, all of Don and Carmen's kids are February and March babies, one is an Aquarius (Valentina) and the rest are Pisces. This idea, I was inspired by Paul and Linda McCartney. Their children together Mary, Stella and James are all Virgos and born on August 28, September 13 and September 12 respectively. Linda was also born on September (on the 24th) like Carmen was born on February just her two oldest. And Don and Paul were born in another month from their spouse and kids. August for Don and June for Paul. So far that's what I have on the kiddos.

[ajol0tita]

"You belong with me 💕"

Feliz día de San Valentín bandita ✨

Happy Valentine's day people ✨

Estaba leyendo un fanfic (porque es lo único que leo últimamente) de un University!AU dónde no tienen poderes ni nada y amé cada interacción de Shuri y Namor ese fic

Se llama "Chocolate or Me? " Aclaro, está "basado" pero la verdad es que en ese fic las perlas Kimoyo no existen pero quería poner a Shuri dando una explicación de un nuevo invento pero para no llevarselo al laboratorio porque está prohibido, le enseña las bases en sus perlas Kimoyo, y aunque él no entiende mucho de lo que habla, está dispuesto a escucharla por horas porque le encanta como la cara de Shuri se ilumina al hablar de sus inventos.

ENG

I was reading a fanfic (Like everytime bc it's the only thing I read lately) in an University!AU where they don't have powers nor anything and I loved every interaction between Shuri and Namor in this fic.

It's called "Chocolate or Me?" In AO3, I have to say this fanart is only based in the fic bc the fic doesn't have the Kimoyo beads and all the Wakanda tech (?)

In this fanart kind of AU Shuri explains Namor her new tech in her Kimoyo beads bc it's forbidden to people not scientist to be there but she likes to show him all her new inventions since it's one of the only people who actually listen to her talking of her passion. And Namor loves how her face bright when she's talking about new inventions. He just loves her.

[nouies]

hello and welcome to the february fic rec featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —  

໑ Time Stamp: Valentine's Day from Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 (E, 1.7k, established relationship, romantic trip, valentine’s day) A romantic weekend away for Valentine's Day

໑ i want real love baby (don't leave me waiting) by loulovep (NR, 2k, established relationship (or not?), farmer harry, city boy louis, fluff, valentine’s day) Harry thought of the perfect date for (his boyfriend?) Louis. Nothing goes to plan.

໑ a little bit of you by @lvinlou (T, 2.3k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o, fairy louis) Louis is a cute omega who loves autumn and baking cupcakes. However, when he goes to the supermarket to get the last ingredient for his recipe, strawberry jam, he meets Harry, a grumpy alpha who is unwilling to hand over the last jar.

໑ your face is like a melody by @meloummy (NR, 2.4k, alternate universe, friends to lovers, singer louis, stage fright) Where Louis is a singer who needs his boy in the most critical moments.

Or where Harry helps his superstar and shows him how much he loves him.

໑ I'm gonna love you forever and ever by houisminou (M, 3k, established relationship, a/b/o au) louis is independent, he is a free omega, except when he is with his alpha, then he just wants to be holded and taken care of

໑ the prints of your hands are still on my canvas by puppyvirginloui (NR, 4.5k, exes to lovers, a/b/o au, nesting, jealous harry) Harry and Louis broke up not long ago. Everything was fine until then, problems started with Louis’ heat just around the corner, an important presentation that he could not miss, and a very visible (or more like invisible) alpha that could help him go through his heat.

And then Harry shows up. (Again.)

໑ no one's gonna take my soul away by puppyvirginloui (spanish, NR, 6.7k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, dark fic, shapeshifting, read tags and author’s note) Nunca te metas con un omega en celo.

໑ and then, i wait there for you by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess (M, 9k, established relationship, marriage proposal, valentine’s day, miscommunication) Harry has always dreamed of having his “happily ever after”, but hasn't found the right one yet. Suddenly, he meets Louis.

໑ Fortune cookies by DaxitaIsDaydreaming (spanish, T, 10.6k, friends to lovers, valentine’s day) Louis y Harry han sido amigos desde que tienen memoria. Catorce años, para ser justos. Están enamorados el uno del otro pero ninguno cree conveniente confesarlo por temor a perder la amistad que han construido durante todos estos años. Sin embargo, San Valentín les tiene preparado una sorpresa. Un pequeño empujón en forma de galletas de la fortuna. Depende de ellos el futuro de su relación.

໑ The Unsuccessful Promise by @trysomecats (T, 15k, enemies to lovers, a/b/o au, high school) At the end of the previous school year, Louis swore to everyone that he would return in the fall as an alpha. He made this promise especially to his arch-nemesis Harry Styles, who has already presented as an alpha himself. Unfortunately over summer break, the worst thing possible happens: Louis presents as an omega. Now school is back in session and he has to return and face the consequences of pre-determining his status.

Featuring Liam and Zayn as Louis' doting and exasperated parents.

໑ Gemini Rising by Speechless (E, 23.4k, roommates au, quirky harry, frustrated louis, angst and humour) Louis might as well give it a shot.

Maybe - just maybe - if he starts crossing boundaries in the same reckless way Harry does, that lunatic will get the message.

So he starts invading Harry's space any way he can think of.

໑ You Bring Blue Lights To Dreams by @starryhazelou (E, 30k, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, cowboy harry, veterinarian louis, light angst) Finding your soulmate had been described to Harry as, “finding the answers to the universe.” As the years passed, he would become restless trying to find his. Everyone was born with identical birthmarks on their bodies tying them together. With the combination of living in a small town, along with having a mark that was constantly obstructed by clothing, he was beginning to lose hope.

໑ the road not taken by teenytinytomlinson / @hs3lt2 (E, 35k, friends with benefits, famous harry, non-famous louis, holidays) The one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired au.

໑ give my love a four letter name by @levelofcharm (E, 46.6k, enemies to lovers, angel/demon relationship, angel louis, demon harry, supernatural elements) Louis hates Harry because he's a demon. Harry hates Louis because Louis hates him. Things change.

໑ Paradise is getting closer by louislovesh28 (M, 52.6k, friends with benefits, supernatural au, hunter louis, journalist harry, read tags) Louis hated his life, which consisted only of death and destruction. Despite the lives he had saved and continued to save, a part of him couldn't feel satisfied.He had been the one who gave up a normal life and although he knew what was to come, the loneliness had never left him in all these years, not even for a second. He felt it in his heart every time he approached a target, he felt it in the few minutes before falling asleep in his dingy car or while he allowed himself a few hours of sleep before setting off again, and he felt it every time he closed that door behind him.

— extra —  

i don’t usually self promo here but i’d like to invite all of you to read the smau my friend and i are working on. it updates daily in the morning (central time). please check it out, it’s called Running with the Wolves.