Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or show. All I own is the writing and story.
Author's note: I didn't plan to write anything for Valentine's Day, honestly. But things changed. So, here it is. Just a fluffy, warm and fuzzy, with a small amount of smut, Valentine's Day one-shot. I'm sorry if the smut isn't the best...I'm still trying to get better with the details without being explicit.
Heart of a Butterfly
February fourteenth—the most favored day of the year for Lorna Morello. Everything about Valentine's Day she swoons over. As a child, she dreamt of the day being spent with her handsome-as-a-prince future husband – going out on a fancy, romantic, date with divine flowers and the finest chocolate, and all the other stereotypical thinking that comes along with the national day of love. Now, though, as a matured young adult who's found her true love to be a recovered heroin addict woman, those dreams don't matter anymore. All that matters is spending the time with the person her heart belongs to.
Lorna spends the entire day preparing the house for her wife's arrival. She has freshly-bought flowers sitting on the dining room table in a sparkly pink vase. The tablecloth—one she borrowed from Red—sits underneath and shines radiantly from the sunlight seeping in through the window above. A smile sits on her face while she looks at her work from the kitchen. She stirs the sauce in the pot on the stove, ravishing in the delightful scent it gives off.
The faint sound of the door opening halts her stir. Figures, she thinks, the one day she needs Nicky to be late she's let off early. She quickly puts the lid over the pot and frisks her way into the living room. She plasters a grin on her face. "You're home early, hon—how was work?" Her Brooklyn accent high-pitched and somewhat overly cheerful.
"Damn…woulda thought it was going outta business or something with how packed ma's shop was! Absolutely ridiculous is what that was," Nicky chuckles, stepping out of her shoes and walking closer to the short brunette. Immediately, the stress of her work day diminishes and in turn is replaced with an adoring smile. "How was your day, baby? It smells heavenly in here, by the way—what are ya up to?"
Lorna wraps her arms around her neck, pulling her in for a tight embrace. A kiss is pressed on the taller woman's lips. "It's Valentine's Day, Nicky! What'd ya think I've been up to? That's why I was hoping you'd be late…now it won't be as romantic cause I still gotta finish cooking," she mutters, her bottom lip quite faintly moved outward in a frown.
The other mentally slaps herself. Shit, her inner voice yells, how could she have forgotten? It's only her wife's most treasured holiday. Her arms drape around Lorna's waist, drawing her closer. She pecks her tenderly on the cheek and rubs her finger gently around it, "It doesn't matter to me when the food's done, Lorna…you're all I care about. And the fact that you'd spend the whole day trying to make this day perfect for me—especially when you're the one who loves it so much—that makes me love you even more. You're the sweetest woman there is, doll."
"But it's Valentine's Day—we're supposed to do romantic things like that! And it woulda been perfect if Red woulda made you stay later like she promised!"
"I have some romantic things we can do with each other," Nicky smirks, pushing the brunette gently onto the couch. She pins her softly between the cushions and herself; her eyes staring lustfully down into the other's. "You've been slavin' over that hot kitchen all day, yeah? I bet ya could benefit from a nice love-making session, huh?"
Lorna gulps; her cheeks blushing a bright pink. She nods profusely. "Guess a little dessert before dinner won't kill us," a small laugh escapes as the sensation of her wife's tender hands brush along her neck, leaving her tingly and warm.
The taller woman chuckles in return, moving her hands down to Lorna's pants and slowly undressing them. Her hands caress against her bare legs. "Fuck it; we deserve to indulge, kid…today's a special day, after all," she purrs, moving her face up to the brunette's abdomen where she allows her lips to land, brushing sweetly along the soft flesh.
Eyes squeeze shut at the delicate sensation. Lorna reaches her hands down to Nicky's face and cups them around her, wanting to feel her skin against her own. "I love you."
"I love you too, baby," is the other's husky response. Her lips stroke lightly along her flesh, making a trail down from her abdomen all the way to the tops of her toned-thighs. She lets herself suck very delicately on Lorna's sensitive area, her tongue massaging the skin with warmth and compassion.
Her fingers slowly caress up Lorna's leg and stopping momentarily at her genital area. She lets them stroke softly around it before finally inserting them inside. While her fingers are occupied with that, she continues to smother the Italian's entire body in gentle kisses—smiling so lively at the sounds of her moans and pleads for more. Without even a second of hesitation, Nicky deepens the pressure inside of her wife's genital—caressing it ever so lightly with the tips of her fingers to intensify the euphoric sensations.
The brunette's body slightly trembles from how strong the orgasm is that slowly starts to plague through her. Her feet curl against the armrest while her hands dig deep into the cushion underneath. "Oooh, mmm…yes, Nic-Nicky, god yes," she murmurs breathlessly.
Nicky's smirk broadens. She keeps up with the motions, trying to make the orgasm last longer. Yet, after a few seconds, she sees that it's faded away as her wife's body slowly untenses itself. Her lips touch right above where hands lie; she pulls her two fingers out and decides to have another go—hoping to reignite the pleasure.
A half-hour later, the two are jolted out of their love-making session by the exasperating ring of the oven's alarm. Lorna quickly jumps up from the couch and runs into the kitchen. She rapidly takes the tray from the oven, turning it off, and sets it on the counter. Her hands cover her face in frustration at the darkened edges that sit around the pan. She grits her teeth in a fury, letting out an infuriating grunt.
Nicky rushes in shortly after; her arms wrap lovingly around the seething woman's waist from behind. She rests her head against the other's and pecks her cheek affectionately, "It's okay, sweetie. That's why there's pizza shops, yeah?"
"No, it's not okay! This was supposed to be a romantic evening—we were gonna have a nice homemade Italian dinner and drink the fancy wine my mom used to get for her and dad and sit by candlelight! But now it's all ruined! This stupid fucking lasagna is burnt and nasty and—"
"Stop, just stop," the older woman soothes, leaning her forehead lovingly onto Lorna's. Her lips stroke warmly over the other's. She gazes compassionately into her brown orbs and caresses a thumb lightly along her face. "Nothing's ruined, Lorna. We still have each other and a beautiful table waiting for us. All we need to do is order a pizza. I don't need all the fancy romance shit, kid, that's not important to me. You are what's important—being able to spend time with you and love is the only damn thing I need. Fuck. I can't believe you made yourself go through all this trouble today thinking ya had to—you're too much, doll."
An instinctive pout edges its way to the surface. "But it's Valentine's Day, Nicky. The one day a the year that everyone tries to make perfect and I was this fucking close to getting it that way," she sulks, glaring over at the burnt pan of Italian cuisine.
Pulling her closer, Nicky moves a strand strip of hair from her face and shakes her head. "It's already perfect. We're here, together, and we love each other. We don't need all that bullshit they advertise on TV; we just need to know that our love is true and never going anywhere. You need to stop doing this to yourself every year, baby. All I ever want for Valentine's Day is to have you in my arms when I get home. Fuck fancy food and wine; you're better than all a that."
Lorna can't stop the smile that slowly forms at her lover's affectionate words. She nuzzles her head tenderly against the other's chest and pecks it softly, "I love you so much, hon. Ya always say the sweetest things. Guess it'd be okay to just order a pizza and curl up on the couch together."
"That's my girl," the redhead murmurs, hugging her head tight against her chest while stroking a hand through her wavy dark hair. "I mean we can sit at the table and eat the pizza since you put so much time into perfecting it. Sweet little thing; I love you too, doll."