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#a boy your mama would approve of
chuluoyi · 4 months
Text
✎ curiosity
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- gojo satoru x reader
when gojo is found out by his own son during your nighttime activities
genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! crack, fluff, dad!gojo
note: based on a fun suggestion by anon! and it’s been sooo long in my drafts🤧 anyways gojo in phantom parade game is so otome-coded, look at his innocent face!—that's how he's going to be while explaining this to his son
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Nghh—Satoru... ah!" you mewled, breathless, right after the third time he made you cum on his fingers alone.
Gods, even with one kid already running around, Satoru never stopped acting like he desired you like when you were still newlyweds. The glint in his eyes never dulled—always smirking at you as if you were the prey, as he licked his fingers with a wicked smile.
"Ah, sweets, are you ready to take me in now?" he cooed in your ear. Really, he was at his limit, seeing how he brought pleasure to you as you writhed under him made him this close to becoming undone too.
With your nod of approval, he wasted no time. He gripped your hips, and swiftly slid his thick cock between your folds. As he sank into you—making himself fit, you accidentally let out a loud moan.
“So pretty,” Satoru groaned through clenched teeth, marveling at your scrunched face, feeling how your legs wrapped around his waist in compliance. “Still so tight for me...”
And the way you squeezed your eyes shut right before he started to pound into you made him finally lose it, as he hotly grunted in that raw, almost feral voice—
“All mine.”
With each thrust, you quite literally squealed. Seems like you were sensitive at this time of the month, because your senses were heightened and you couldn't help the nasty moans leaving your lips. The sensation of him repeatedly slamming his hips against you turned you into a crying mess, and had you totally forgetting that your toddler was sleeping just next door.
And when his climax exploded within you with one last powerful thrust, his hot cum spurting hard, stuffing you to the brim and painting your womb white— you clawed at him, tugged him closer to your breasts as a mix of scream and moan of his name escaped your lips, trembling at the depth to which he was burying himself inside you.
You were panting, totally spent, sensing the familiar way of his cum trickling down your thighs. And at that moment, you could have sworn you heard the patter of footsteps nearby. Before you could fully register it, Satoru hastily pulled the blanket to cover you both.
Suddenly, your bedroom's door swung open, revealing your precious boy standing there, visibly sleepy but worried. "Mama?"
You muttered your son's name weakly, disoriented, and it only served to worry him further. His little eyes widened, and he took a step—
"No, no, kiddo!" Satoru urged in a panic. "Stay there! Don't move!"
His son eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing? Why are you crushing mama?"
"I—" Satoru collected himself, and put on the most innocent smile. "I'm... helping mama to sleep, you see."
You went pale, now that you realized the situation you were in. Your son had just seen you and your husband in the middle of the act. You were silently grateful for Satoru's quick thinking for covering both of you to spare your son from the indecency.
"Helping?" your son gaped in disbelief. "But she was just crying!"
"Yeah, she cried because she couldn't sleep," Satoru blurted, still smiling benevolently like he hadn't nothing wrong. You felt the urge to facepalm at his terrible excuse and the irony of the situation—how close he was to collapsing beside you, and that he hadn't even pulled out of you yet.
Your intelligent boy wasn't easily convinced, that was what you would expect of him.
"How's you hovering over her will help her sleep?"
“With this position, she'll sleep more comfortably, you know,” he asserted confidently, prompting a subtle twitch in your eye. He turned to you, a stupid grin on his face. “And who knows, it might also help to make your sibling. Isn’t it true, dear?”
Satoru nudged your side, willing you to agree with him. You were in utter shock and shot him a dark glare, before looking at your distraught son in a flurry. “Y-yeah… I’m fine, baby. Go back to your room now.”
“You're not hurting, Mama?” the little boy asked you worriedly. Thank heavens he was more focused on you rather than Satoru's little comment.
“No. Your papa is just… trying to help. I’m okay, yeah?”
“If you say so…” your son pouted reluctantly. He shifted his gaze on his father and 'hmph'-ed in accusation. “You’re weird.”
"Hey!" Satoru exclaimed, comically offended. "What are you doing here, anyway? Can't you sleep?"
“I heard noises... and now I want to go to the bathroom…”
Your husband grunted. "Fine, I'll come with you. Just wait a moment and close the door, please?"
Your son threw one last concerned glance at you before shutting the door. Both of you let out collective sighs of relief.
“I swear, he’s such a brat. He used to be so lovable too,” Satoru grumbled under his breath, finally slipping out of you and rolled to your side. He playfully tapped your lower belly and winked. “I hope it’s a daughter next. She will surely be daddy's girl.”
Your body was still shivering as a result of your high earlier, and yet you still managed to side-eye him, hissing, “I'm going to kill you, Gojo Satoru.”
“Wha—”
“Sleep more comfortably? A sibling?”
“Well, can’t we just say that we’re going to give him—”
“Satoru, don’t you put more weird ideas in our son’s head.”
“But—!”
“The moment you do, and if I catch you, I swear to God, I'm banishing you from our bed.”
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Epilogue
“Uncle Nanami… does sleeping in certain position will give me a sibling?”
Nanami almost choked on his own words. “What?”
On this rather fine day, he had agreed to help you keep an eye on your child, as both you and Satoru went on separate missions.
He might not be able to stand his senior, but Nanami couldn’t deny that he had a soft spot for the toddler even if he was a carbon copy of his father, as the boy was sweet and overall more like you in nature.
Your son blinked at him curiously. “Papa said not to tell this to mama, but when I asked, he was actually trying to give me a brother or sister to play with when he squished mama on the bed the other day.”
Nanami felt a vein about to burst at the very implication. In hindsight, he shouldn’t be surprised at Gojo Satoru’s unrefined parenting skills but then again, anything that annoying clown did always managed to surprise him one way or another. He let out a long sigh.
“Kid, forget what your father said.”
“Huh? Is that not true then?”
“Report this to your mother, yeah? Ask her too, she will have better answers for you.”
13K notes · View notes
crxss01 · 10 months
Note
request ! 😌
i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!
— Mama Love
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.
warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!
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42!miles morales
this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.
at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.
she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.
but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.
that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.
you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.
many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son
“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”
other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.
one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.
you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.
one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.
never complained to either of you again.
his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp
miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.
now, neither of you takes it off.
then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.
you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.
tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.
you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.
she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.
and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.
would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.
“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”
miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.
“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”
yeah, he never yelled at you after that.
or like ever did anything that would hurt you.
miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.
you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.
1610!miles morales
now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.
but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.
it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.
miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.
one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.
tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.
she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.
tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.
one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.
his mom made sure to make things clear for him.
“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.
he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.
after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.
tía morales and you went out a lot.
like going shopping,
buying ice cream,
going to restaurants where miles tagged along.
miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.
he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.
he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.
“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.
yeah, never complained again.
but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.
you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).
she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.
in the end you and tía morales are besties.
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taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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7K notes · View notes
miguelhugger2099 · 29 days
Note
HIII tehehe
so imagine this, miggy and wifey reader coming home from a date and reader is just giggling as she remembers him being kind to all the kids who came up to him wanting to play with him. and reader is just like 'what if i just gave him one instead'
miggy notices his wifey reader giggling to himself, mini fluff moment happens. then reader exposes herself and then
~smut~
Baby Maker
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long overdue and was very much in the accidentally deleted category like everything in this ask was written it just needed an ending before POOF gone. so, a thousand apologies i could not say sorry enough nonie. i tried to write down everything i remembered so i could get it out as soon as possible. as always, if you're not satisfied, this ask can be rewritten for a third time Art: feminine.999 on instagram
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After a long and tiring winter, Miguel was eager to take you out for a picnic date in the warm sun again. It was always a sweet reminder of your time as young lovers and just having the simplicity of being in each others presence along with some food. So whenever the time was right and the temperature was warm enough, Miguel would plan and whisk you away to the park at the same hill you two have decided would be your spot. "Miguel just hand me something." You smile at him and stick your hands out, the picnic blanket hanging lightly on your forearm. Miguel carries both the cooler and basket as well as your purse on his shoulder. He had only asked you to fold the blanket but you wanted to help so you held onto it instead while he insisted he had everything else. "Ah-ah." He says, shaking his head. "Tengo todo, mama. I'm okay." Obviously, he was. He could carry several more things if he wanted to but you felt really bad watching him. "Give me the keys then. I'll drive." You cross your arms. In truth, he didn't want you to drive- he's a little traditional when it comes to handling things on his own while you rested freely from responsibilities. But, he sighed and instead of protesting, he nodded. "Keys are in my back pocket." He pouts dejectedly. You found it cute and rolled your eyes. You reached around him to grab the keys from his pocket, giving a teasing squeeze to his ass which he jumped at. "Oye." He says with a playful warning tone, squinting his eyes down at you. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, as well as a spark in his eyes. "C'mon." You shrug and skip in front of him, pretending to be innocent. At the car, Miguel was finishing up putting everything in the trunk, massaging the palms of his hands to ease the strain of holding onto the handles of the cooler and basket. You place the blanket over everything, feeling Miguel kiss your temple and his hand sneaking around your waist. "Good?" You ask him, looking up and cupping his cheeks. Miguel leans into you, his hands on your hips to keep him steady. "Mhm." He hums as he looks back down at you. Miguel kisses your forehead then each of your cheeks before finishing it off with a long smooch to your lips. "Let's go home." He murmurs.
Before you could move, Miguel looks down after feeling something tap the side of his leg. A soccer ball rolled a bit before he skillfully rolled it under his foot and kicked it into the air so it landed in his hand. “Whoa!” A chorus of young high-pitched voices shouted in unison. A group of kids huddled by you two, marveling at Miguel. “How did you do that?” One boy gasps, his eyes lighting up in admiration. Miguel chuckles nervously, bashful of the attention of ten-year olds. “Ah–it’s a little tricky.” He hands the ball to a little girl and she waves it high above her head. “Can you show me?” She squeals and Miguel blinks, looking back at you. You covered your mouth to hide your giggles and smile. “Go.” You tilt your head at the group of kiddies and Miguel stumbles over his words but the kids already took your approval and began tugging on Miguel’s arm back to the grassy fields to play.
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As you got home, you couldn’t bring down the smile on your face, cheeks hurting with how long you’ve grinned to yourself. You let out a couple of giggles remembering how the children flocked to him and how Miguel looked carrying two grown kids in his arms when his little team scored a goal. Not only had you felt warmth in your cheeks but in other places as well. “Why do you look like that?” Miguel asks after placing the bags down near the door. He’d organize things later. “Like what?” Miguel brings his hand to the side of his face and bunches his shoulders up, looking up at the ceiling with a mockingly dreamy sigh. “Like this!” You punch his shoulder and Miguel laughs, bringing his arms around you from behind and leaves little apology kisses along your neck. “I did not look like that.” You defend yourself. “Mmm, you did. You always look like that anyway. At least when it comes to me.” He mumbles against your ear, his breath tickling your senses and you squeal to move away from him but he just holds you closer. “So what is it this time? Was I extra good-looking today? Did I sweep my favorite girl, my wife, off her feet?” Miguel presses his lips on your cheek with a loud smooch. He couldn’t help teasing you a bit. “No, it was different!”
“Hmm, different?” “The kids at the park.” You feel Miguel pause and he lifts his head up and tilts it to the side after turning you around. “What about the kids at the park?” He asks, confusion swirling in his eyes. “You looked…good with them.” He huffs a quick laugh. “Okay?” “And I was thinking, y’know,” You giggle at the thought of Miguel picking you up, filling you up, carrying a baby–making him a father. He wanted to pick your brain. “What?” He squints down at you. “What if we had a baby?” Miguel’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise. “H-huh?” His voice went up an octave as his cheeks had gotten a little redder. You felt his hands tense around your hips and you secure your arms around his neck. “What if..I just gave you a baby?” You repeat in a hushed whisper. “With your help, of course.” You giggled and your flirting sent shivers down his spine. Subconsciously, Miguel’s eyes turn downwards to your stomach–imagining it swollen and growing with each passing day with just a few pumps of his cum. His eyes dilate and he feels the blood in his body rush straight down to his groin. “O-oh, God…” He groans, his breathing already getting heavy. “Are you sure? You want a baby? You want my baby?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. You could feel his hands gripping your sundress. It fell just above your knees so Miguel was already sliding his hand up under it to feel the skin of your thigh, skin still a little warm from being in the sun. “Mhm, yes, please.” You whine, feeling the rush of arousal drench into your panties from hearing Miguel hold onto his last remaining self-restraint before he fucks you silly. At your plea, Miguel wraps his arms around you and pulls you up towards him to kiss you deeply. His lips devour yours, tongue slipping past your defenses to tangle in a dance with your own tongue. One hand pushes your head closer while his other hand runs down to grip the plump fat of your ass through the fabric of your dress. Tapping it twice, he signals you to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and he hurriedly enters the bedroom. Miguel falls on top of you, bodies bouncing on the mattress but it does nothing to stop Miguel’s desire for you.
Miguel separates from your lips, dragging his wet mouth down to your jawline and neck while his hands bunch up your dress at your waist. He brings a hand up to pull down the top half of your dress and begins to leave small love bites across your breasts before licking your nipple into his mouth. With your head rolled back, your fingers run through his hair, hips attempting to grind up for some friction but with his weight on top of you–you’re helpless. “Want me to make you a mama, huh?” He growls huskily, lifting his head up and using his fingers to flick and tweak your nipples so he could watch you screw your eyes shut and your mouth parted open as you moan his name into the air. “Want me to make you all pretty and swollen with my cum, hm? Fuck…” “Oh, God–Miggy..!” Your hands at his shoulders, arching your back off the bed and writhing underneath him in a desperate attempt to make him focus on your wet pussy. Miguel can’t help but play with your tits, groping them in his hands and squishing them. He pulls your dress further down, tracing your curves and worshiping them to engrave it in his memory. Your dress now on the floor, you lay bare with just your panties. Miguel presses down on the soaking patch between your legs and you shiver. “No me jodas, Miguel. Just fuck me.” You groan and buck your hips to grind on his fingers but he chuckles and pulls away. “Dale paciencia, mi amor.” He says even though he feels the same, his cock straining against his jeans and leaving a wet spot in his boxers from dripping precum. Miguel leans back down to kiss you, hands fumbling with the zipper and he hastily shoves his boxers and pants down his legs. Deciding he was also impatient, Miguel rips your underwear apart and he bites down hard on his lips to stop him from moaning loudly at the sight of your glistening folds. Mind cluttered with lust, you don’t even notice the tear but you do feel his hard cock rubbing between your puffy pussy lips. He sighs while he collects your slick onto his shaft, his leaking tip mixing with your juices. “Mmm, fuck yes…” He shudders, thighs flexing as his muscles tensed up. Goosebumps litter his skin and he looks down at your body. Sprawled nude on the mattress while you’re already looking fucked out of your mind when he’s barely put the tip in. His cockhead catches inside and he teasingly enters. His hand places itself on your stomach, pupils blown wide open.
“Qué pasa, mi amor? Te sientes bien? Ay, que linda eres...” He purrs as he pushes inside you. “Feel me, mama.” Each inch is slow and he makes you feel the growing stretch of his cock, veins pulsing against your throbbing walls–your cunt convulses around him to suck him deeper inside your warmth. “Mine, mine, mine. So pretty, you’ll look gorgeous when I fuck a baby into this tight pussy.” Miguel whispers against your neck. His cock twitches when you claw at his back, choking out your moans as your face flushes with a warm blush. He could feel his balls aching but he held back as best as he could. His palm feels his cock from inside you, poking through your stomach and his eyes roll back. Fuck, he’s deep. “Tell me you want it. Dímelo otra vez.” He moans, slowly rocking his hips in and out of you. Your mouth had been drooling since he teased your entrance with his cock, mind blank with nothing but the desire to be bred by your husband. With a weak and broken whimper, you begged. “Wan’ it,” You squirmed. “Breed me.” Miguel’s forehead landed on your shoulder, his body hunched over as his hand went to pull your thigh on his hip and slammed into you. You screamed and held onto him before he started pounding ruthlessly into you. You could’ve flown off the bed with just how fast and hard Miguel decided to pace at. He wraps his hands to your ass and pulls your bottom half up for easier access, dragging your wet folds up and down his cock. He pants, breathing shakily as his arms tense up–veins protruding and running down all the way to his hands. Miguel then lets go, grabbing both your legs and pushes them to your chest. He folds you in half, displaying your cunt to his eyes as his main priority. He bites his lip, grunting with every pounding he gives you. His knees dig into the mattress to anchor himself as he jackhammers his twitching cock into your warm wetness. The arousal gushing out of you and rolling down between your asscheeks and onto the bed. “You’ll be such a good mama.” He moans, curling his hips so his cock arches right into your sweet spot. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly, head thrown back while your nails rake his back in streaks of red, imprinting yourself on him. You’re a squealing mess, tears in your eyes and you could barely feel your legs anymore. Face morphed with pure ecstasy as you feel each drag of his cock empty and refill you over and over again. His bulbous tip nudges against your cervix and twitches against your velvety walls and your moans turn shamelessly pornographic-like. Meanwhile Miguel gets himself off to the thought of you creaming on his cock, his balls unleashing his cum straight into your womb and getting you pregnant. He huffs, ears ringing as his mind only focuses on breeding you. He thinks to himself that once isn’t enough. Just one measly pump of his seed won’t be enough to bear you with his child. He’d have to do it more than once. He had to see his thick load seeping out of your puffy pussy folds. He wanted to see you filled to the brim, pumped full to make sure you’ll carry. He wanted to see your belly grow, creating a being that was the perfect combination of you and him.
His mind spurs him on, mouth open as he spews his own moans and  praising your tight cunt at how well it takes him. He’s pussy drunk, hips smacking and his balls slapping against you, his body pressing your legs tighter against yourself and ravaging himself into you with heavy thrusts. He grits his teeth when you scream and clench around him, pussy fluttering as you feel the release of an orgasm shoot through your body. Your legs quiver as Miguel holds onto you, eyes rolling back and drool escaping off the side of your mouth. Your cum drips into a puddled mess below you and Miguel’s orgasm follows right after you, drilling his cock until he’s balls deep. His cock twitches with each spurt of warm cum shooting out his tip, plugging into your womb. You take deep breaths but it seems impossible when Miguel keeps your legs up. His head is hung while he waits until your cunt milks every last drop of his seed. You weakly reach up and cup his cheek to catch his attention. He meets your gaze and you give a tired smile and pull him down for a kiss. Miguel eases your legs down and kisses you back. His hands rubs comfortingly around the dip of your waist. For a moment you feel at peace, a bliss of entering a new era with him. The peace lasts for just a moment. Miguel leaves your lips and twirls your body on your stomach, lifting your bottom half up so your ass hangs in the air. In the process, his dick leaves your warmth and it leaves you feeling empty. You gasp and grip onto the sheets, head turning to try and see Miguel. “‘M not done.” He mumbles. “You wanted me to breed you so I’ll fuckin’ breed you.” His words are slurred but his mind is made up. He angles his cock to your wet cunt again, smearing the combined arousal around with his tip as if painting on a canvas. Instinctively, you moan and wiggle your hips back, pussy swelling up with desire again. Miguel smirks and pushes back inside and the stretch is familiar and comforting. Shuddering, your pussy welcomes him back by squeezing tightly, sucking him in, and he hisses. “Uyy, fuck…” He sighs. He starts off slow, bumping you forward with easy and short thrusts, feeling himself slowly grow hard again inside you. Your eyes flutter close, face smushed into the pillow and drooling on the case of it as your body lurches forward. Miguel increases his speed, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip to bring your ass back onto his cock. His balls smack your clit for added stimulation and it makes you jump from the electric pleasure zipping straight to your core. “Oh my God! Miguel!” You whine, heat flushing on your cheeks, Miguel’s dick reaching different places in a different position. The pain of sensitivity washes away, your pussy now craving the hot sticky liquid of your husband. Miguel looms over you, bending one leg to keep him steady as he keeps drilling deeper into you. His lips leave wet and sloppy kisses to your shoulder, panting and sharing warm breaths with you while your bodies buck up against one another.
“That feel good, mama? Hm?” He moans, burying himself in your neck while his hips snap up against yours, ass slapping and rippling with each thrust.
“Yes! Yes! Mhm!” Your voice turns high pitched, eyes glassy and unfocused while being bred like a bitch in heat. Still, you took pride in it to be the one to carry his child, to have him use your hole as his cumdump and take him however many times as long as you keep feeling like this. You’d gladly take him over and over again.
“You’ll give me another baby after this one, right mama?” He hums, tongue licking your neck and nipping at your skin. “Say you will, querida. Say you’ll let me put a baby in you again–we’ll have a big family.” He whines, humping your ass in quick strokes. “Say it, say it, say it, please, please.”
Miguel could feel himself getting closer. He could feel you getting close too with the familiar pulse and clench of your walls around his throbbing cock. His balls are wet with your slick, your wetness never ending.
“Yes! I will! Promise! Just–please!” Your words are barely audible with your face pushed into the pillow but Miguel is satisfied with your cockdrunk state. His cock engorges with the thought of a big family, you giving him as many kids as he wants and him watching it all happen once he spills as much as he wants in your willing cunt.
His hips go out of rhythm, he chases his high of impregnating you for a second time and his cock twitches violently before squirting ropes of cum to paint your walls white. He doesn’t stop pumping, wanting to feel you cream on his cock so badly even when the overstimulation makes him whimper.
With a cry of his name, your pussy pulses around him and you feel his previous load drip out of you to make space for his new one. The liquid trickles down your thighs and your shake as the orgasm is ripped out of you. When you stiffen, Miguel drags his cock out from you and flips you on your back again.
Barely giving you time to recover, Miguel lifts you up from the bed and your back makes contact with the cool wall. He holds you securely under your ass and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist once more. Your arms are around his neck, hands in his hair and Miguel captures your lips in a messy kiss. His hips rut into you to slide his dick back inside which resounds out in rapid smacks of skin on skin contact.
You’re bouncing on his dick, hair tangled and becoming staticy from your head rubbing on the wall. His thrusts slow to a stop as he focuses on making out with you, tongue dancing with yours and exploring your mouth with a low moan of pleasure.
Teeth clack against each other and you roll your pelvis to regain the friction. Pussy clenches around him desperately and Miguel lets out a guttural groan, separating from your lips to bite your chest. Your back lifts off the wall and you push your tits to his mouth, Miguel eagerly sucking your nipples and switching between left and right.
He angles up and up, feeling your walls slide on him like some silicon dildo. He gropes your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading them apart while your slick sounds out with a sloppy, dirty and wet mess. Miguel shoves you harder against the wall, pounding your body in rhythmic thrusts that bang loud enough for a passerby to hear. His back is covered with your nails marks.
You’re screaming, you’re so fucking sensitive but it’s just so hot how he just keeps going. There’s a fire that’s ignited in you–some sick form of pleasure that you get off on your husband pumping you full of semen. It gave you pleasure just how badly he wanted this–wanted you. You can’t help but squeeze around him, pussy unable to handle the bundle of overstimulated nerves so it spasms.
Jaw slacked and spit dribbling down your chin with your tongue lolled out your mouth–you can barely form a thought when Miguel’s fucking them out of you. You didn’t expect for Miguel to jump at the chance at having a baby but right now, it felt so worth it. His teeth bites at your nipple, tongue rolling around the bud and devouring it like you were the sweetest thing he’s tasted.
“Miguell…! I’m so–mmph!–fuck, I’m close!” You pull on his strands of hair and he lets go of your nipple. Miguel leaves his forehead on your chest, breath fanning your skin while he bucks into you. He cums first, his essence spilling out and dribbling back down on his cock and he grunts with annoyance. His annoyance doesn’t last long when you climax just a few seconds after with a squeal. You ankles lock tightly around his waist to push him to the hilt to keep the rest of his cum–old and new–plugged inside. Miguel shudders and moves you off the wall and back to the edge of the bed.
Miguel lays you down on the mattress with a huff of exhaustion, becoming sleepy after three orgasms. Still, he turns you on your side, lifting your leg up so he could slide in his cock between your twitching and sensitive folds.
You strangle out a whine, eyes blinking in a dazed haze. You reach around you to grip his hair and plead for mercy. You don’t know how you even lasted this long.
“Thought you wanted a baby. I’m making sure we’re having that baby.” He mumbles against your neck, humming when he sheathes inside you again. Your cunt spasms, fluttering and pulsating from overstimulation. However, Miguel is gentle this time.
He grinds behind you in easy thrusts. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, turning your head around with your mouth slightly parted, whining out your moans. Miguel kisses you, his hand gripping your thigh tightly to uphold it while his cock slips in and out of you. The evidence of his essence drips out of you and leaves a shiny coat and the milky white circle at the base of his shaft prominent from previous orgasms.
You weakly buck your ass back to go in time with his thrusting. You break from the kiss, string of spit connecting on your wet lips before you rest your head back on the pillow, heart thumping wildly. Miguel goes back to kissing your neck and shoulders.
“Asi es, mami,” He whispers huskily. “One more. Can you do that for me? Jus’ one more.” His hips roll in circles and his hand goes underneath you to reach around to your front, fingers finding your clit. He rolls it between his fingers and circles around it softly with just the right amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your hips stutter and feel another climax coming, but this time a little weaker than the rest.
“Mig…Miggy…” You whine and he shushes you gently. His fingers leave your clit and he rests his hand on your stomach, thumb rubbing up and down the small pudge of tummy where his baby will grow inside you.
“I know, mi reina, I know. I love you so much. I love you. I love you so damn much.” He whispers sweetly, Miguel kissing behind your ear. His words of affection make you whimper.
“I love you too.”
Miguel winds up cumming inside you for the final time, emptying out all of his energy and hugging you tight to his chest while you squeal and cum right after him. He keeps you close, putting your leg down and curling his arms around your waist to spoon you.
Your breathing slowly evens out, exhaustion catching up to you. Miguel pulls out, each drag shocking your nerves until he leaves with a wet plop, strings of cum connecting you both together until it breaks. He turns you around to face him and brings your head against his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage and you weakly hug him back. You feel full just like he told you he would do to you.
You can’t help but feel content, excitement blooming in your chest for the next chapter in your life with your husband. He's warm.
“We’re gonna be parents.” You whisper softly. Miguel’s lips kiss your hair and he lifts your face up to him. He continues to pepper your cheeks and forehead with kisses.
“We’re gonna be parents.” He echos. “Thank you.”
You couldn’t ask for a better man to start a family with.
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A/N: me when i enforce my breeding kink miguel agenda
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r3ynah · 3 months
Text
Extended Family
DCxDP
An Au where, Maddie is Damian and Danyal, Biological mother besides Talia, Basically Talia and Maddie(+Jack) both grew up in LOA and were very best friends(lovers?? at some point including Jack). Talia wanted a natural birth for her son, as she was not really fond of the idea of a test tube baby. so she asked Maddie a favour to become a surrogate. which Maddie happily accepted. because of her experience with Jazz and Danyal's birth, Talia was sure Maddie can give birth to her son safely.
This was approved by Ra's Because he deemed Maddie as someone that could be trusted due to her becoming one of the most strongest and smart assassins in the LOA(He was fond of her, like really really fond.) So he accepted his daughter proposal for Maddie to become the surrogate.
And then Damian was born, Jazz and Danny basically loved Damian and would not go anywhere but the baby's side. Jack loved taking care of Damian due to Maddie and Talia not knowing how to take care of a baby with physical affection.(basically house husband behavior,).
As the kids grew they become closer through the years until you know, it wasn't safe for them in the LOA anymore so they helped Damian escape first to his Bio dad's place(They did let him pick though, if he wanted to stay with the fenton-nightangles or go to Bruce, he chose the latter because if something happened to them he'll have connections.) and then Maddie and Jack escaped with their children in a random town named Amity park. which turns out was a hotspot for Lazarus pits or Ectoplasm. (They decided to change the name cause everytime Jack hears the word pits he started laughing).
The children of course never severed their communication throughout the years. And Bruce never asked about his life at the LOA so he never introduced his half siblings.
Damian hated his older brother, Danyal with all his might. if you asked him to choose between his Half-sister Jazz or Danyal. He'll choose Jazz in a heartbeat.
He hated him, because of his foolishness and absolute neglect of his surroundings, making him a easy prey amongst people who wants to take advantage of him. He disliked Danyal's poor choices in life especially now.
The youngest wayne stood in the middle of one of the many hallways of his highschool as he stared at a certain, black haired and blue eyed girl, who was waving at him ecstatically, he contemplated if he should fight the girl head on or just run and escape.
Obviously in this situation he would pick the most desirable option to make sure his day wasn't ruined by his older brother, so he picked the latter. Damian dashed through the hallways, making sure to lose the girl before the third period started. He slowed down as he looked warily at his surroundings his back against the storage room incase he needed a hiding place from that test tube spawn.
When suddenly a pair of arms phased through the door embracing Damian as he tried to escape.
The girl giggled as she kept her hold on the older boy who tried to get her off him. "Hi uncle Damian!"
she greeted as she finally let go making space for the boy to take a step back.
"Danielle. Why are you here, Did Danyal send you to pester me?" He glared at his niece, as he kept his guard up.
"Kind of, mama sent me here to check up on you." She explained "You kinda went MIA when you stopped answering his texts and calls."
"This is absurd, I can take care of myself. him thinking something happened to me for not answering his calls is offending, I am not like him." Damian stated as he finally lowered his guard. And started to walk away expecting for Elle to follow to which she did.
"Eh.. You know him, His just paranoid he always is" Elle exclaimed as she looked at her schedule. "What's your next class Uncle?"
"Math."
"Ooh Yey! We're classmates, let's sit together!"
A groan left Damian as Elle chuckled and continued to look at her class schedule beside him, Peaceful quietness welcomed the two as they walked to their shared class.
——
"Do you have a apartment nearby?" Damian asked as he stood up from his table waiting for Elle as she packed her notebooks, only filled with doodles from both party.
"Nope, Mama requested that we move here for easier transport but i didn't wanna bother with all the moving stuff." Elle explained as she finished tidying up. "Beside I can just fly back and forth, what's the use of my powers if I can't abuse em."
"Your logic is as worse as Danyal." Damian exclaimed as they both headed out the door. "Follow along. you'll be staying at my manor this week."
"Why?" Elle asked suspiciously
"Because, It is a tiring job to use your flight ability for something so stupid." The boy explained.
"Is that really all?"
"Ofcourse not, As your uncle it's my job to keep you energized and unbothered, But as your mother's brother its my duty to annoy him for thinking i was in danger. so I'm basically taking you hostage at the manor." Damian grinned, as he took his niece's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost through the maze of hallways
"So basically kidnapping? I'm in."
——
"Master Damian, welcome home." Alfred greeted as he opened the front door. "And who might you be?"
"Hello Alfred, This is Danielle your Great-granddaughter." Damian said, making Alfred raise his eyebrows slightly before returning to his relaxed state.
"Well, nice to meet you Lady Danielle" Alfred greeted with a smile, as he shook her hand.
"Please call me Elle, Alfred" Elle brightly smiled
"Very well then Lady Elle." Alfred chuckled.
"Is father home yet?" Damian asked
"No not yet master Damian, you two may go to the living room as I prepare the guest room for Lady Elle." Alfred exclaimed as he headed to the kitchen to finish what he was doing.
Elle looked at Damian, Damian looked at Elle.
"I can feel my phone vibrating from my bag." She laughed. Her mother Danny was certainly going to be sad that his little brother kidnapped his daughter for a Uncle and niece Hangout.
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astonmartinii · 6 months
Text
a spoonful of sugar | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader
cheffing it up all over the calendar
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 124,509 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: WOAH WHAT IT'S OSCAR'S HOME RACE WEEK? that mean's it's time to whack out the aussie cook book mama piastri got me for christmas and man this fish has a cool name. BARRAMUNDI is a fish very commonly used in aussie cuisine (real ones know it from masterchef australia). so here i've pan seared it with some herbs and some lemons and take it from me it SLAPS, but you know what i hope slaps more? oscar this weekend... LET'S GO BABY
[as always this recipe is on my website and will be in my 2024 f1 calendar recipe book coming out soon]
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user1: FAVES OMG PARENTS
user2: my favourite thing is where i read intently all of y/n's recipe and continue to make pot noodles
yourusername: pot noodles are good i can't even be mad
oscarpiastri: can confirm it did in fact SLAP
yourusername: oh wow piastri stamp of approval that's basically a michelin star
oscarpiastri: tbf i would eat a roll of paper towels if it was you who gave it to me
yourusername: okay.... I'LL TAKE IT
user3: can we please study these people cause why is saying you'd eat paper towels is the pinnacle of romance
user4: i NEED the recipe book STAT
landonorris: i was on board with this whole cooking thing but FISH IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE
yourusername: oh boy we got a BABY ON THE LINE
landonorris: i'm allowed to like what i like my MUM said so
yourusername: bro is an elite athlete and exclusively eats chicken nuggies
landonorris: @oscarpiastri tell your girlfriend to stop bullying me
oscarpiastri: i'm on her side buddy maybe explore the culinary world
landonorris: that's it i'm going to HR
yourusername: try it girly the mclaren HR team LOVE my food
user5: the dynamics since oscar and y/n got comfortable in the sport are my favourite things
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oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: first time on the podium at my home race and the feeling is unreal. so thankful to have my family and love of my life around me, lets keep building on this !!
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user7: THANK THE LORD MCLAREN KEPT THEIR SHIT TOGETHER IN 2024 OSCAR FIRST WIN COMING IN FAST
yourusername: I AM TOTALLY FINE ABOUT THIS AND I AM NOT SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY BECAUSE I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU AT ALL TIMES I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOO SO MUCH AND I LOVE SHARING THIS WITH YOU AND SEEING THE WORLD WITH YOU AND REACHING OUR DREAMS TOGETHER
user8: are they good?
logansargeant: from the man currently waiting for them to go to dinner and can hear them yelling this stuff to each other... no they are not okay and i don't think they ever have been
yourusername: LOGIE BEAR I AM SORRY I CANNOT CONTAIN MY LOVE FOR OSCAR
oscarpiastri: jealous bitches gonna be bitter
logansargeant: ??? excuse me
oscarpiastri: i'm sorry i got excited... love you logan (just not as much as y/n)
user9: this comment section is once again making me want to sneak into an F1 after party :(
user10: they're just going to dinner they've not even started drinking yet 😭
landonorris: i am proud of you mate - why is y/n dancing around in the kitchen in an apron that says "this chef FUCKS"
yourusername: fashion. (it says oscar piastri in small print right under that)
landonorris: i didn't need to know that
oscarpiastri: let her dance it makes the food taste even better
landonorris: there's definitely no fish right?
yourusername: no fish by order of the fussy child
landonorris: bullying online and in person @maxverstappen1 @charles_leclerc @logansargeant STEP IN
maxverstappen1: eh i'm good i'm looking forward to dinner
charles_leclerc: you're on your own with this one lando
logansargeant: i've learnt not to cross y/n
user11: the piastris invited lando, logan and the rest of the podium? i am soft
yourusername
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tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: a big post podium celebration dinner at the piastri house to celebrate oscar's home podium. first off, super duper proud. second, since it was a strictly no fish evening, i decided to go for classic aussie meat pies and grilled kangaroo LOL but there was only clean plates at the end so i'll defo consider adding it to the recipe book
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user12: i am getting a sugar rush this is so sweet
logansargeant: thank you for having me, a solid 9/10 - one point docked because kangaroos are cute
yourusername: wait until you run into one on a cold, wet evening
oscarpiastri: they are actually very scary and have a stealing problem
yourusername: tbf i think we all have a stealing problem
oscarpiastri: you definietly do ... cause you stole my heart
logansargeant: EW NOT ON MY COMMENT THREAD
user13: i'm so lonely
maxverstappen1: i definitely did not think i was going to eat kangaroo this week but here we are
yourusername: did you like it?
maxverstappen1: i was shocked at how much i did
oscarpiastri: babe get that on the review cover of the recipe book this guy got three championships that has to mean something
yourusername: good idea i'm on it
maxverstappen1: ???
landonorris: you fed me kanga and roo from winnie the pooh? Y/N YOU FED ME KANGA AND ROO FROM WINNIE THE POOH?
yourusername: you eat chicken all the time and you don't feel sorry for chicken little
oscarpiastri: she ate you up there PUN INTENDED
landonorris: i've learnt my lesson i'm giving up here
charles_leclerc: i for one had a blast and will be asking for y/n to cater my birthday party
oscarpiastri: FOR A PRICE
charles_leclerc: you her guard dog or something?
oscarpiastri: duh? have you seen her?
yourusername: i would love to (idk monagasque cuisine though so give me notice)
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 152,339 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant
yourusername: IMOLA, IMOLA MY HEART LIVES IN ITALIA AND MY STOMACH LIVES WITH ITALIAN FOOD. for real. the track is cute and whatnot but the real star is the pasta, the pizza, the gelato but most importantly the PASTA. here is two dishes that'll feature in the imola chapter: a burrata dish and a ragu !! oscar (and lando) certified so you know it's good, oscar even helped so it's defo beginner friendly!!
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user17: is it a collective f1 driver experience to be ass at cooking
danielricciardo: yes
maxverstappen1: yes
oscarpiastri: yes
landonorris: yes
charles_leclerc: YES
oscarpiastri: if i'm slow this weekend it's because i couldn't stop eating the ragu sorry mclaren
yourusername: i made sure no gelato until sunday so please don't take me out back and shoot me over giving him pasta
mclarenf1: bring some pasta for social media admin and no one has to know
yourusername: deal
landonorris: this is a public instagram comment section
charles_leclerc: why is mine always so darn crunchy
yourusername: inpatient, common amongst you drivers. oscar was once so impatient when boiling an egg he got it out and it was just watery egg
oscarpiastri: you said you wouldn't tell anyone :(
yourusername: no babe i'm proud !!! you've come so far
oscarpiastri: it's true i made my own omelette the other day :)
yourusername: and it was yummy
oscarpiastri: and it was yummy :)
user18: the positive affirmations in this relationship really keep me going
yourusername: he IS the MOST beautiful racer in all of the lands
oscarpiastri: she IS the PRETTIEST chef in all of the kitchens
oscarpiastri
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 775,431 others
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oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted in spain, but we're still in good spirits and in the conversation at the top of the standings! also helps that when you get taken out of the race your girlfriend shovels the BEST paella ever into your mouth until you finally smile
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user19: bro got a girlfriend and personal chef all in one
yourusername: food is my love language and when babe gets twatted into the barriers by SOMEONE i will personally feed him some of his favourite food
user20: she's holding back
yourusername: PR said i couldn't say anything...
oscarpiastri: i love youuuuuuuuu and i love your paella i think it's laced with crack
logansargeant: @fia GET HIS ASS
yourusername: LOGIE BEAR?
logansargeant: i'm sorry, we're pretty desperate for the p7 here at williams
yourusername: i respect that
oscarpiastri: Y/N????
yourusername: MORE PAELLA
carlossainz55: big respect for the paella, definitely looks authentic
yourusername: OBVIOUSLY IT'S AUTHENTIC DO YOU THINK MY QUALIFICATIONS ARE A JOKE
yourusername: lol sorry thank you actually SPANISH F1 DRIVER APPROVED PAELLA
oscarpiastri: @fernandoalo_oficial can we get another good review please and thank you
fernandoalo_oficial: looks good, need a taste to be sure
yourusername: it's coming your way (please return the tupperware tho please)
mclarenf1: you'll come back stronger oscar 💪
oscarpiastri: fuelled by love and paella
yourusername: fuelled by VENOM AND THE WILL TO WIN AND CRUSH THE COMPETITION
oscarpiastri: and that 🫶
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note: here's a short and sweet one that MAY return to finish out this fictional season ... i also just love this kind of set up for an imagine. it's a lil short i know but the CHRISTMAS CRAFTS ARE COMING IN FAST AND THE CROSS STITCH CHRISTMAS CARDS ARE SLAYING THE HOUSE DOWN
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months
Text
You’re My Love Story
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2.9K
Requested: Yes/No
Warnings: Time Jumps, Angst, Fluff, Christian Horner is an ass in this, Gerri is team you and Charles, Happy Ending, I promise
A/N: I've been listening to my favorite Taylor Swift songs a lot while I study and couldn't help but put each one to a driver, this one is for Charles
Poll Winner
Synopsis: Love Stories are meant to be heartbreaking, but would yours be the opposite?
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2014, Ages: 17 and 16
You hated these parties, boring and stuffy. You're forced to wear a dress far too fancy for your taste, but your mother just wanted you to look nice. A party in the Monaco summer air had you wishing you could be swimming in the ocean than smiling and faking remembrance of people you don't know.
Your father was moving from person to person, shaking hands, laughing at crude jokes that had your mother giving him multiple looks. He's quick to stop, clearing his throat as he introduces you.
"My daughter, Y/N Horner. Sweetie, this is-" You zone out, giving a picturesque smile and faking interest in the conversation. "Mama, can I go take a breather? It's hot in the dress." You whisper. Firey hair turns, giving you her approval and whispering for you to not go far. "I won't, just on the balcony." Pointing to the double doors open, exposing the sparkling lights of Monte Carlo.
Floating through the crowd, stepping out on the balcony, you suck in the tinge of cold air clinging to the night. Your posture drops when you don't feel your mother's eyes on you, leaning over the railing. Laughter draws your attention to the people below as they dance around each other, talking loudly and freely.
Your heart yearns for that to be you, to escape this place and have some real fun. But, your father would refuse, saying you had to uphold your family name. The name, you sometimes hated being a Horner. Anytime someone would hear that last name, it was always followed by the same question.
"You're Christian Horner's daughter? Team Principle of Red Bull?" Like a broken record, you smile, nod, and give the infamous one-liner back. "Yes, and I fully support the F1 Team. They're definitely going to win." Everyone getting hyped hearing those words.
And why wouldn't they? You had the ultimate powerhouse Sebastian Vettel and the up-and-coming Australian driver Daniel Ricciardo. Speaking of which, turning around your eyes and scan the crowd, not hearing the familiar groups of laughter around Daniel.
Not seeing Daniel, you notice a boy make his way through the crowd instead. He was new. You could tell from how no one talked to him, say a few people but not enough for him to be somebody. His suit was nice, hair stringy as he looked around before darting onto the balcony with you.
"Oh, hello." His eyes widened, finally noticing that he wasn't alone out here. "Hi." Giving a curt answer and moving to leave. "Wait, you don't have to leave!" His hand grabs your wrist, making you turn, shocked that someone would touch you.
"Sorry." Hand-dropping as he fidgets, you clock in quick that he has never done something like this. "Have you ever been to one of these parties?" Hazel-green eyes pinch, hating that it was noticeable. "No," He trails off, playing with a ring on his finger. "Okay, yes. I'm a driver. But, just for Formula Renault. I'm driving for a British team called Fortec Motorsports," He looks up, sees your bored face, and sighs. "And you clearly don't care." Huffing, he leans on the railing missing your growing smile.
Laughing, you move closer. "No, I know the team. Daddy talks about all the younger teams all the time." The boy looks at you, his body more relaxed as he smiles. "Really? If you're here, you must be a daughter of a retired driver or worker, right?" He asks, teasing you.
Instead, you feel that familiar dread. Does he know who you are? Pretending to approach you and be nice just to meet your father? It won't surprise you if that is true.
"Yeah, I am." Back straight, wrapping yourself back in that perfect media daughter cover. "Oh, that's cool. My godfather is a driver. Made me come along and try to mingle. You see how well it's going. You're the first person to actually talk to me." Your heart picks up, seeing that smile directed at you.
The two of you talk away the rest of the night; laughter and blushes pass between you. Only for your bubble to be popped when your father's voice cuts through.
"Y/n? Are you ready to le-" You and the boy jump back, having been very close. Looks of guilt on both your faces have your father freezing. "Y/n, go to your mother now." Voice stern, no room for argument. With a nod, head down, you slip past your father. "Wait! I didn't tell you my name; I'm Charles. Charles Leclerc." A blush spreads over your cheeks, seeing that heart-stopping smile again.
"Nice to meet you, Charles. I'm Y/n Horner." Your introduction is ended when your father grabs your arm, dragging you away from Charles, the balcony boy.
2017, Ages 20 & 19
"Charles, stop throwing pebbles." Giggles as you poke your head out the window, seeing a red and white shirt in the dark. "What? You weren't answering my texts." He whispers, yelling up to your window. "I was studying. Shouldn't you be getting ready for your last F2 race?" Leaning out the window, your heart still beating fast in your chest, seeing that smile.
"Wanted to see you." He admits, scanning the wall, trying to figure a way up to you. "Charles, if Daddy knows you're here, we're dead." It's been 3 years since you met Charles on that balcony and 1 year since your father gave you strict order for Charles to stay away from you.
At that time, the two of you couldn't stay apart. Your mother caught you more than once sneaking out. With a smile, she'd just nod, kiss you on the cheek and tell you to be careful. "So? I wanted to tell you some exciting news. So, you either come down here, or I come up." Dropping your head, you have to cover your laughter. "Wait." He nods, watching the outline of your body dip back in the window.
You curse as the bedroom door creeks, and you whisper that you'll get it fixed. The hallway plunged into darkness, with no light from your parent's bedroom. Score. Sliding out of the doorway, you tiptoe like clouds are under your feet. On the steps, your body freezes when a step groans under pressure.
Taking a moment to ensure no one woke you wait before darting down the hallway to the kitchen's back door. Charles jumps, worried that it's your father, but instead, you close the door and stop staring at one another.
"Hello." Smiles pull on both your lips, darting forward. He opens his arms gathering you in them. "Hi." You gasp, arms and legs wrapped tight around him. "I've missed you." You don't need to repeat it back, kissing him as a way to say it. Smiling, he kisses you back, but it ends earlier, pulling a slight whine of protest out of you.
"I'm driving for Sauber next year." The words have your brain stutter to a stop. Sauber? As in the Formula 1 Sauber team? "What?" He chuckles, putting you down, and looking at you, his smile drops. "Oh my god, Charles. That's….I'm so proud of you." The two of you mold into each other as Charles tells you everything.
You laugh, seeing him so happy, something he's needed for a long time. Finally able to uphold his promise to his father so long ago. A light in a window flicks on, having you two freeze. "Fuck, that's my parent's room. Go!" You whisper yell. Charles scales the garden wall, stopping as he leans, kissing you. "See you on the track." Dropping down the wall, lips tingling.
But you have to forget that, rushing back into the house quick and quiet steps and into your room. Placing yourself back at your desk, studying. A knock has you jumping, your father's head poking in. "I heard something? Are you okay?" Faking concern, you knew he was suspicious from how his eyebrows knitted together, and eyes were drawn.
"Yep, all good." Trying to hide your hard breathing, he looks over you before disappearing and clicking your door closed.
2019 Ages 21 & 20
"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" Something slams on the table, flinching. You try hard not to look up. You'll only be met with articles and newspapers of you and Charles kissing. Your father's furious face, your mother's worried one. That's all you'll see if you look up.
"Christian, you need to calm down. She's an adult." Your mother tries to reason, but he refuses to see reason. "I told you AND him to stay away from each other. And did you LISTEN? NO!" He roars. Tears slip down your face, and hurried hands wipe them away. "I love him." A confession you haven't even said to him.
"Love him? You love him? He's the enemy, Y/n. How could you betray me? This family? The team?" Each word is a stab to your heart, just wanting to run away into Charles's arms. "I'm sorry, Daddy. But I do. I love him!" Head whipping up, you meet your father's eyes. Yours blurry from the tears running down. He just shakes his head.
"If you ever see him again. I'm shipping you back to London, where you'll never see him again. Understand?" Voice steady, he was past angry. Now in the stage of silent fury. "Answer your father, Y/n." Gasping on a sob, you nod, stumbling out of the chair and rushing upstairs.
You knew time had passed when your Mama knocked on the door, the sun dipping into the sea. "Y/n?" A sniffle is the only reply you can give her. Throat and eyes are raw from all the crying you've done.
"Sweetie, he's here to see you." Sitting up, you are shocked and scared by those words. "Your father isn't here. Had business to attend to." She leaves your door cracked. All you can see is her red hair bouncing down the stairs.
Checking the mirror, you know it's pointless trying to fix yourself as you head downstairs. His back is to you, staring out the door that gives you a look at the Monaco docks filled with fancy boats.
"Charles?" Voice cracks, and he turns, wearing sunglasses. He doesn't even remove them to look at you. "I was told by everyone that we need to call this off." White noise fills buzzes in your ears, tears all gone, you just slip down the steps sitting on them.
"Don't, not you too. Please, don't." Charles flinches, unable to read him properly, his sunglasses blocking all his emotions. "Y/n," His own voice breaks. He has to clear his throat, keeping a reasonable distance. Charles knew if he stepped forward, he'd gather you up and never let go. "Please don't go. Charles, you can't. I'll leave. I'll go with you. We can…we can run away and never look back. Let's just run. I can't keep being told how I'm supposed to feel." Eyes burn, and tears drip down your cheeks.
"I love you. I love you, Charles Leclerc." Sunglasses taken off, he pinches his eyes, trying to keep his tears at bay. "We can't. I'm sorry, Y/n." The front door opens and closes. "Oh, oh god." You sob, holding your chest. "Y/n? Oh, my baby." You bury your head in your knees, not wanting to hear your mother's voice.
Current, Ages 26 & 25
"Are you okay?" If you could groan out loud right now, you would. It was thoughtful the first couple of times your mother asked, but now it was annoying you. "Mama, for the last time. I'm fine; my faith in us ever getting back together is long gone." You hiss, watching Charles with fans from the Red Bull hospitality.
"I was sure you two would get back together. Neither of you have dated since that day. Also, I think me kicking your father out for that month taught him a lesson." A chuckle passes your lips, painfully pulling your eyes away from Charles. "Yes, I think it did." She smiles, sipping on her tea.
A small wave to someone, you're too busy to look up, worried Charles would see you staring. "Who are you waving at now?" Your Mama is a social butterfly, always chatting and waving at someone. "Charles." She replies.
Eyes bludging, you whip around, seeing Charles still in the same spot. Eyes locking, the two of you look away at the same time. "Pity, you should go talk to him. You're clearly still in love with him."
"MAMA!" You gasp. She shrugs her shoulder, lifting her teacup to her lips and sipping. "Don't deny it. I know you cheered for him like crazy last year." Cheeks red, you grumble how you were just glad he was doing well.
"Okay, but he's staring at you. Again." You knew he was. Whenever his eyes are on you, your body heats up. Basically glows under his watch, cursing that you still loved him so much. "Oh, he's gone. Guess you can leave now." With a silent thanks, you leave the safety of the hospitality, walking back to your apartment.
The walk is longer than expected. Streets shut down in Monte Carlo due to the race. You can't help but shake the feeling someone is following you. With a slight turn, you notice many people behind you, all wearing regular clothes to Formula 1 gear. "Going crazy." You turn and pop out using a shortcut, slamming into a body.
"Ow, watch where you're going." Snapping, you lock eyes with the person, and blood runs cold. The last time you saw his eyes this close was years ago. You even forgot the exact color of his eyes. Honey green.
"Y/n." He breathes. That stupid heart-stopping smile is still the same, at least. "Excuse me, I have to go." He body blocks you, making sure you don't leave. "Don't go." Hearing those two words, you're pulled back to the memory of when you said that same exact thing to him.
"I'm sorry, I can't." Throwing his own words in his face. This time no sunglasses to hide the sorrow in his eyes. "I love you, I still love you." He confesses. "I had to walk away. I just joined Ferrari. Your father was making my life hell on and off the track. He said if I didn't stop seeing you, he'd make sure I'd lose the seat. Fuck, it was so stupid to pick a fucking seat over you. But all I could think about was my father, Jules, and you. I thought you'd be better without me. God, was I wrong." A sharp turn on your heel, you stare at him.
"Do you have any idea how lonely I've been? That I lost my best friend and the love of my life in one go? I shipped myself back to London to finish school cause everywhere I looked, you were there. Yet, with new faces, places, and everything else, I still looked and craved for you. My dumbass even thought you'd come running after me? But that was all in my head." Charles shakes his head no.
"I did come after you, but your fucking father found me and the ring and told me you hated me. Never wanted to see me again, so I flew back. I didn't learn how you still felt until 2 months ago. Gerri is a talker when drunk." You try to follow his words, but the word ring is all you can stay on. "And she was drunk, spilled everything to me. How you fell apart, kicking your father out for a month. All of it. Grew some balls and went to your father, talked to him, and told him I would marry you with or without his permission." Taking deep breaths, he calms down, leaving you two in silence.
"You have a ring?" He nods, pulling out a little black box. "I carry it with me everywhere." Neither of you says anything as you just stare at the box. "Ask me."
"What?" Eyes wide as you smile, eyes watery. "Ask me to marry you. Please?" He laughs, dropping his head. He gets down to one knee on the empty Monte Carlo street. "Y/n Horner, will you marry me?"
Laughing, you nod. They're happy tears as he slips the ring on your finger this time. "Yes, my balcony boy." His own laughter filled the quiet street.
2024 Ages 27 & 26
"Y/n? Come on, don't be late for our wedding rehearsal!" You smile, blinking out of the memories as you stare at that ugly dress you wore the first time you met Charles.
"Coming!" You stare at your rehearsal dress. A white dress hanging off the door. One dress you wore when you met the love of your life, the other you'd be wearing to promise yourself to him forever.
This was a love story that survived.
Turning, he stops fidgeting with his watch, mouth open. "Is that? Woah." He gasps, seeing you wearing the same dress he first meet you in.
"Yep, had it altered like crazy, but bringing back memories?" Charles can only nod as he moves to your side, kissing you.
"We were both so young when I first saw you." He whispers, kissing you again. "And I'm going to ensure we're never apart again." Placing a kiss on your ring.
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dilfl0v3rss · 11 months
Note
I give you..
Bsf!Ony who claims he’s, “only friends” with you but will fuck ts outta you the second you start acting out
WAITTTTTT YOU ATE THIS UPPPPP😩😛😩
ony is the possessive type so it’s very likely that this would have to do with another boy. he was at your apartment, eating all your snacks as he watched tv on the couch. you walked out of your room dressed up for your date. “how i look?” ony looked up from the tv, eyeing you up and down before giving you a small nod. “look nice.” he grumbled. he did not approve of this at all. rolling your eyes, you walking in front of him, restricting his view of the tv.
“why you hatin’? you should be happy i’m finally getting a boyfriend.” his jaw clenched at your words. boyfriend? tf you need a boyfriend for when you got your best friend? it’s not like a boyfriend could do any more for you than he’s already doing anyway. buying you stuff, driving you to work, comforting you whenever you needed, and fucking the shit outta you when you wanted. ony was the whole package for you so the fact that you were trying to get a man was a slap in the face to him.
little did he know, you were only doing this to get a rise out of him. you’ve wanted to be with this man since y’all were in high school, but neither of you were bold enough to ask the other out, so you labeled your little situation as being best friends to keep the other from feeling uncomfortable. “these niggas not good for you suge. they can’t protect you like i can.” you rolled your eyes at the stupid nickname.
since your parents liked to call you sugar when you were little, ony decided to use the name as well, sometimes shortening it as suge. “boy the only reason you saying that is because you scared the last three off with those stupid guns.” a smirk planted itself on ony’s face, grills peaking from behind his lips as he stared up at you with low eyes. “if they running from this then who knows what else they gon run from. feel me?” he lifted up his shirt to show you his glock 19 tucked in his waistband.
you couldn’t help but get a little wet at the action, eyes glued to his inked torso and chest as he kept rambling about how pussy the guys you fuck with are. “you see sum you like mama? see you drooling a little over there.” long fingers gripped the bottom of you face, pulling you towards him for a kiss. you quickly pulled away before walking back to your room. “no. i don’t ‘feel you’ and i wont be feeling you for awhile. gon start saving this pussy for my new man.”
his head snapped towards you before getting up and following you inside your bedroom. “the fuck you mean ‘saving’ my pussy? you not giving it away. must be crazy.” ony laid on your bed, tank top riding up his toned stomach as he leaned on his elbows. is this nigga crazy? tf he mean “his pussy”? last time you checked yall wasn’t dating so this pussy belongs to nobody but you. “wanna bet?” you didn’t notice you were voicing your thoughts out loud, but you still didn’t back down. “boy please. you know better.”
“f-fuckkk ohhmygoddd.” you were face down in the sheets, strong hand in your hair as the other was at your lower back. ony was beating your shit in, thumb curved into your puckering hole as he fed you quick deep strokes in your pussy. the date you were supposed to be on long forgotten as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. “who pussy dis is mama?” squelching noises could be heard from all the way in the living room as he continued pounding away at your pussy.
“mmits ursss onyyy.” his heavy hand moved from your hair to leave a hard slap on your ass. the skin instantly heating up from the contact. “say my name right baby. who’s is it?” his pace grew as well as his anger. body roughly jolting, wrinkling up your sheets to the point where they were snapping off your mattress. “it’s y-yours daddy. it’s a-alllll yours fuckkkk.” you moaned. ony couldn’t help but smile, taking his thumb out your backside so he can kiss up your back.
you were his and his alone, and until you understood that he was going to fuck you as hard as he could to keep you from even thinking of going anywhere with another man. his mouth stopped right next to your ear, breathing steadily as if your tight pussy didn’t phase him at all. “that’s right mama. this daddy’s pussy.”
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joeys-babe · 5 months
Text
Joey B Imagines: Kiss Me*
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Summary: Another Joe prank! After engaging with so many couple pranks and trends on Tiktok, your FYP just keeps giving you more ideas! This time it's wiping your lips after Joe kisses you…
Warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, smut at the end.
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine universe: Into The Mystic
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*no particular date for this blurb!*
(y/n’s pov)
Today was a slow, boring, rainy day. Joe was downstairs making dinner and playing with the boys while doing so. My parents were coming down for dinner tonight and Joe has always felt the need to make a three-course dinner for them every time they come over, even though he’s had their approval for several years now.
I sat upstairs on the bed. It was that time of the month and I was also coming down from a stomach virus, not fun at all. The only positive was Joe playing sexy nurse for me, bringing me soup, and tissues, checking my temp, holding my hair when I got sick, just all around being the best husband ever.
The sounds of giggles spewing from my twin boys playing with their daddy warmed my heart. Their laughing patterns had me guessing what was going on down there. My hypothesis was Joe was “chasing” the boys, catching them, trapping them on the couch, and tickling the daylights out of them.
I was contemplating going down there to find out but the giggling stopped, and before I knew it Joe was walking into our room. He respectively knocked and when I told him to come in he did.
“Hey. You doing okay, mama?” - Joe
“Mhm.” - you softly smiled
“That's good. Do you need anything? If you're not feeling 100% we can cancel on your parents, I'll even call them myself.” - Joe
“No, I’m okay Joe. I appreciate your offering though. Can you come here for a sec?” - you
“Mhm.” - Joe
Joe softly smiled at me as he made his way over to the bed and got under the covers on his respective side.
I rolled over into his chest and got comfortable as Joe rubbed my back.
“I love you, J.” - you
“I love you more. I've got dinner mostly done, a couple of pieces of chicken aren't up to temp yet but the sides are finished.” - Joe
“Good job Mr. Chef.” - you giggled
“Mr. Chef? Sounds kinky.” - Joe chuckled
“Joseph Lee!” - you leaned up and gave him a dirty look only to find him laughing with his head back.
“Sorry, I had to. You should know by now that if there's an opportunity for a dirty joke Imma jump on it.” - Joe
“I know it, and your jokes are funny. Just get it out of your system before your in-laws are here, Burrow.” - you laughed
“Yes ma'am!” - Joe laughed along with you.
Joe went to lean down for a kiss and a memory flashed in my mind from this morning.
This morning when I woke up alone in bed the shower in the bathroom told me that Joe was in there, I scrolled on TikTok for a little bit and ended up in my collection of videos saved with the title “Do with Joe.”
It consisted of all the couple trends and pranks that I've already done on him plus ones I wanted to do but haven't yet.
Due to the gloomy weather outside, I felt like a prank would be fun to do today. This one specifically was going to be very fun.
Joe and I kiss maybe 10,000,000 times a day. That's definitely not an exaggeration either. Before we were even a couple we loved little pecks or even long make-outs; kissing each other was just essential when the feeling of each other’s lips felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together.
What this prank was is every time your partner kissed you, you'd wipe it off. Whether it be a hand kiss, a cheek kiss, a forehead kiss, or a kiss on the lips. It was to be wiped off.
Now that Joe was going to kiss me for the first time it was a perfect time to let the ranking begin.
His smooth pink lips were on mine softly and before I knew it he was pulling away.
Joe smiled down at me as he started to lean up from the bed but paused when I wiped my lips with the back of my hand.
The small smile on his lips faltered and he furrowed his brows at me.
“I've brushed my teeth this morning, so I don't have morning breath… what's up?” - Joe
I shrugged and Joe frowned.
“Are you worried you're gonna get me sick? Because you know my immune system is like a brick wall… even if you were still a little sick we could have a full make out and I promise I’d be fine.” - Joe
“Mmm, okay.” - you giggled
Joe smiled at me giggling at his response, hoping that meant he had convinced me to let him kiss me. It was a few seconds later that Joe leaned in again, pressing his lips with a little bit more force than the first time.
“I love yo-” - Joe stopped when you wiped his kiss off again
“Baby, I’m fine to kiss you.” - Joe
“I know.” - you
“Then why do you keep wiping my damn kisses off??” - Joe whined
“Just don’t feel like it today.” - you
He looked hurt and taken aback by my reasoning. Joe knew I loved kissing him so this was weird to him. Was it something he did?
Eventually, Joe walked out of the room playing with his bracelets anxiously. I'm going to absolutely smooch him to death later because even though I'm choosing to do these pranks, he always takes them personally and it makes me feel bad.
After getting out of bed and ready for dinner, I walked downstairs to find Joe setting the table. Tyson and Miles were already dressed in their usual matching fashion and their hair was fixed. My heart warmed since their hair had recently started getting curlier, and they now both had one singular blonde hair hanging over their forehead. They're just like their daddy.
“Thanks for getting the boys ready.” - you smiled at Joe
“Oh, you're welcome. I didn't want you to have to do it so I went ahead and did.” - Joe
I nodded and walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his chest after he put the last plate down.
“Have you heard from my parents?” - you
Joe laid his head against mine and mumbled a “Mhm”.
“They said they'd be here in around 30 minutes.” - Joe
“Okay sounds good. Do you need help with anything?” - you
“Nope, I've got it all. Dinner is done, the table is set, the boys are ready, and drinks are in the fridge.” - Joe
Pulling away from his chest, my smile gleamed as I looked at my man.
“You are the best husband ever, Joe.” - you
“I try to be, baby. You deserve nothing but the best and that's what I try to be.” - Joe
“Gosh. I love you so much. You make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, Joe.” - you
Joe was grinning and rubbing my back, he went to lean in and kiss me but awkwardly paused and pulled back.
“Sorry I… forgot.” - Joe
Fuck.
God I was supposed to be pranking him but now all I wanted to do was grab him, throw him on the couch, cuddle him, and whisper in his ear how much I loved him as I kissed all over his face.
“You make this so hard.” - you sighed
“W- what?” - Joe
“I’m supposed to be pranking you by wiping my mouth after you kiss me but now I just feel bad. You're too sweet and cute for your own good. I'm sorry for pranking you again. I think it's going to be funny but then you make me sad.” - you
“Sorry for ruining your prank, baby.” - Joe giggled
“You didn't ruin anything… you're just too… perfect.” - you
“Def not perfect. I'm not gonna lie though, I'm a little sad about your prank.” - Joe
“I'm so sorry. After my parents leave we can do whatever you want, I won't complain.” - you
——
“Bye guys, see you soon!” - you
“Bye, get home safe!” - Joe
“Bye, gamma!!” - Tyson
“Bye, gwampy!” - Miles
My parents waved bye at us one last time before Joe opened the front door and gently guided the boys inside.
“Mama, tuck me in?” - Miles
“Of course, sweetie!” - you grinned at your boy
“Me too mama!” - Tyson hugged your leg
“I’ll tuck you both in don't worry.” - you smiled
“Why do you guys not want Daddy to put you to bed?!” - Joe
Joe held his arms up in defeat, waiting for Tyson or Miles to answer as they hugged at my legs.
“You don't read as good as Mama.” - Miles giggled
Joe’s mouth hung open from how distraught he was that his boys were turning away from him. I giggled at the look on his face before bending down to rub the boys’ backs to get their attention.
“Say goodnight to Dada and then we’ll go upstairs.” - you
Tyson was the first one to detach from me and run up to Joe, who happily scooped him up with one arm. Ty laid his head on his dad’s shoulder and Joe leaned over to kiss his cheek. He ran his fingers through the light blonde hair that was identical to his when he was their age.
“G’night, Dada.” - Tyson
“Night night buddy.” - Joe handed him over to you
Joe squatted down and Miles immediately walked into his father's embrace, wrapping his tiny arms around Joe’s neck as he hugged him. Joe had one hand on Miles's back and the size comparison was insane, his hand covering his son’s entire back.
“Night, Daddy.” - Miles
“Goodnight, Mi-guy.” - Joe
Miles wiggled out of Joe’s arms and back over to me. Joe stood back up at his full height and towered over me in such a delicious way.
“Stay down here. I'll be coming back down soon.” - you
The smirk forming on his lips told me he read between the lines and he realized the promise I made earlier was more sexual than he had originally thought.
Anything I want, Joe thought.
——
The boys went to sleep rather quickly but before I went downstairs I made a beeline for the bedroom. I grabbed a hairband put my hair up, just in case, and took my clothes off. I slipped one of Joe’s shirts over my naked body and went downstairs.
Joe was sitting on the couch, manspreading in his usual fashion as he watched the TV in front of him.
The light from the TV showed off every beautiful curve in his face and accentuated his chiseled jawline.
After giving him a slow look up and down, my eyes lingered on his crotch where a clear bulge had formed in his slinky shorts.
He's definitely been thinking about what he wants to do.
Walking out of my hiding spot on the stairs, Joe’s eyes averted from the TV to my frame and a smile graced his lips when he saw my ponytail.
“Hey…” - you sat down next to Joe
Joe flicked the TV off, and now the room was only being lit by the small table lamps, this lighting made Joe look ridiculously sexy.
He looked over at me and licked his lips.
“What are we gonna do?” - you smiled
I watched Joe fist his shorts and pull the legs of them higher up, showcasing more of his gorgeous muscular thighs. God, those thighs.
“Since you didn't want those pretty lips touching my lips. We're gonna use them somewhere else. Sound good, mama?” - Joe
Nodding, a smirk formed on Joe’s lips as I lowered onto my knees.
I palmed Joe through his shorts causing him to groan, and satisfied I pulled them and his boxers down his long legs.
Joe’s dick was already hard, swollen, and slightly wet from the precum beading at the red tip.
Gesturing for Joe to lift his arms, I pulled his shirt over his head and almost moaned at the familiar sight of his erect cock laying against his chiseled torso.
Taking his base in my hand I finally did what Joe had been wanting, kissing his tip sloppily.
“Oh god. Fucking suck it baby.” - Joe groaned
That was all the praise I needed to take his length into my mouth, sucking on it as I bobbed up and down. Joe was groaning and cursing left and right.
“Your mouth baby… your lips, wish I could have ‘em around my cock 24 fucking 7.” - Joe
His words only made me moan around him, causing Joe to moan out himself.
Joe was letting me do the work, for now. It wasn't long after I thought that when he grabbed my ponytail and started moving me on his cock.
“Atta girl, mama. Makin’ me feel so good.” - Joe
Minutes later Joe’s hips started bucking, signaling to me that he was close so I doubled my efforts. My hand moved on his base to stimulate what I couldn't get in my mouth and Joe’s moans told me he appreciated it.
“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum.” - Joe moaned
It was soon after that, I tried to quicken my pace even more and Joe was an absolute mess. He was choking on his own groans and was so close.
“Baby! I'm cumming!” - Joe grunted out
Shortly after his warning he released in my throat. I stayed with his dick in my mouth as I watched him through my lashes.
Joe looked completely blissed out and his chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. His forehead was also sweaty and the veins that ran through his body were bulging out.
He pulled at my ponytail, telling me to get off, and when I did I grabbed a tissue out of the box on the end table to clean him up.
After I cleaned Joe up and slipped his boxers back on, I went to wipe my mouth off but Joe grabbed my forearm.
“Dont you fucking dare wipe your lips.” - Joe
Feeling the abundance of saliva and precum on my lips and chin, I sucked in a heavy breath.
“Kiss me.” - Joe
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Authors note: guys even I'm giggling at the ending.
Request for this fic; (anon I literally took your idea and RAN with it. I actually have no way to defend myself on how this turned into a BJ.)
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Hope you enjoyed! 💕
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acewithapaintbrush · 1 year
Text
"My dad has the hots for your dad!"
Amity can only stare as Hunter slams his hands down on the table she is working at. He glares at her with narrow eyes and a mouth pressed firmly into a thin line. The perfect picture of determination and confidence. 
"What. Did you just say?" 
He immediately deflates at her pointed and icy tone. His hands leave her table and fidget with his overalls and hair instead while he squirms from side to side, eyes averted and cheeks blushing. 
"I-uhm. I read that in one of Mama Camila's books. It- well, I mean, it means-" 
Amity cuts him off. "I know what it means. Didn't Camila forbid you from reading them?" 
Them being the small paperbacks with the half naked humans on the front. Usually a woman in distress with a very well built male, rescuing her from certain doom with wet hair and big abs. The first time Camila had caught Hunter reading one of them she'd almost burst a blood vessel and ripped it right out of his hands. 
"Nonononono," she had chanted and hugged a perplexed Hunter to her chest, carding a hand through his hair. "Those books are way too spicy for an innocent, cute boy like you!" 
Hunter huffs and puffs. "I'm an adult. She can't tell me what to read." At Amity's raised eyebrow he mutters "And she didn't find the one hidden under my mattress." 
He shakes his head and takes her shoulders to shake her a little. She allows it, 'cause she can see how agitated he is. "But that's not the point! Darius has… he likes your dad. As in like-like! And we gotta figure out how we feel about that." 
Amity thinks about Darius. The dashing rebel, who had been pulling the strings of an uprising in the shadows from the start. A headstrong abomination user. He would definitely be a big step up from Odalia, that's for sure. 
She imagines Darius as her father's new partner and discovers that she is more than okay with that. 
Amity is not naive. She knows her father needs a headstrong partner at his side, someone who is not afraid to take the reins in a relationship. Not like Odalia, who's taken that to mean that she should micromanage every facet of his life and turn him into someone he is not, but someone who reminds her father to eat and to leave work alone every once in a while. 
"I approve." Amity says and seeing Hunter's desolate expression narrows her eyes. "You got a problem with my dad?" 
"What?" Hunter lets her shoulders go as if they have burned him. "No, of course not! He's super cool! I just… Arrrrrg!" He rapidly runs his hands through his hair. "I just don't know if I can handle a second parental figure!"
"Uhhh."
He starts walking up and down in front of her, Waffles flying after him with happy little trills. "Things with Darius are good right now. He told me to call him Dad and it's… It's yeah, you know? But it's also a bit awkward sometimes, you know? The only father figure I ever had before… Well. And we are still trying to find our rhythm, you know? How am I supposed to deal with another parent right now?"
"Hunter!" Amity has to shout to get him to stop. She can't believe she is having this conversation right now. "Hunter. You do know that you have like, four parental adults in your life. Don't you?" 
He blinks at her and his blank face tells her everything she needs to know. She wants to face-palm so bad right now. "What?" 
Amity starts counting on her hand. "You call Camila Mama Camila." 
"Wha- But that's just-", he splutters. Amity talks right over him. 
"Eda calls you her Fledgling at least once a week and she and Raine are kinda a packaged deal. Grandma and Grandpa Clawthorne call you son so often, I don't even know if they know your real name. Every time Lilith fusses over your scars she mutters 'my poor boy' under her breath. And let's not forget Willow's parents who took one look at you and had the adoption papers ready." Amity looks at her hands, which have barely been enough to count on. "Oh look at that. Not four but eight, actually."
Hunter looks gobsmacked and not a little teary eyed. Amity pats his shoulders, just a little relieved that he has apparently forgotten about their parents budding romance over this new revelation. She'd rather not get involved in that for as long as possible. 
"Face it, Hunter. You are pretty much public son number one at this point." 
🐦🐦🐦🐦🐦
There is no reason for this except that I had the image of hunter saying "my dad has the hots for your dad" and me running with it
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dreamwritersworld · 4 months
Text
His daughter (sully family x reader) part 2
Y/n’s anxiety was the worse growing up, if she hadn’t done it right or if her father didn’t approve she’d panic. Anything she did was effortless and beautiful but neither of them saw that. If you challenged Y/n, she’d prove you wrong immediately.
For as long as Y/n could remember everybody loved her. She never knew exactly what it was. She just knew that she had something special, something intangible, something immeasurable, and it gave her “confidence”.
However no one knew much she put into getting all her skills in check. There was so much stress in such a young girl to please the people. She saw her father as gold at the top of the mountain and her mother’s proud smile as the sweetest item amongst Eywa creations. She wanted their approval so badly..
*
Y/n had scrapes and mud along side her knees and body, it only got worse as she crawled further up the small trunk of a tree. Here she was moving her fastest as she goes against Neteyam who had been given a simpler task of obstacles. She struggled to breathe through the tight space…panicking at the realization that she wouldn’t succeed
I want it, I wanted it bad
The bloodshed and exhaustion was getting to her
but there were so many red flags
When she crawled right through, Neteyam had already been rewarded, the dirtest part of him being sweat and very little mud. Y/n’s sorrow was written all over her face, that afternoon she walked home covered in mud, drops of blood and sweat..she weeped to the empty forest that night begging Eywa to give her the sweetest reward on her…to save her and have her succeed further than she could imagine..
*
She loved her father and his approval, she wanted it more than anyone else. He knew this, he made her dependent and knew she’d crave it. If Y/n couldn’t stay with him forever, he’d find a way so that she would. Sure, Tuk was younger but Y/n was his real baby, she had almost died on him and he wasn’t going to let her go after that.
When Y/n wasn’t with Jake, she was with Neytiri. She wasn’t only her mother but Y/n’s best friend. Their relationship was so strong. On the days Y/n was exhausted she rested her head right on Neytiri’s lap as she played with her hair, she looked like a cat, calmly sleeping in her mother’s lap. It’d be hard to decide weather she was a daddy’s girl or mamas girl…but you’d have to take into consideration that when she was with Neytiri she at least provided a sense of that peace..mamas girl. It was true, Y/n spoke very highly of her mother constantly even if she had betrayed her…
*
Y/n had been speaking to one of the little girls who was asking to learn about human culture that Jake had taught we her growing up..
“…mmh and Mother’s Day is the day people celebrate mommies?..”
“yes sweetheart!”
“What do you think about your mother?”
“My mom is a very important person in my life. And I think she taught me a lot of lessons in life, how to respect the public and the rest of my family. And I think it’s very important to have a mother and I want to be like her.”
Y/n’s voice was clear and you can tell she meant every word. The moment was cut short when an adult asked Y/n told aid them in healing..so she left the child alone with her mother. Neytiri’s eyes watered to her daughter’s sweet answer..
“And you? What about you?”
The young child looked dearly and innocently at Neytiri, filled with excitement to get a deeper connection between the two.
“Growing up I always told y/n to not change her way of being. You know, to all the time be humble and caring how she is with everyone..She’s a very special girl. Same as my other kids, all kids are special of course but..without her, I can’t imagine a life without her…she’s very important, she keeps my family together..”
Everything Neytiri had stated was true, Y/n made sure to develop a close relationship with her siblings. Her parents had been so connected to her and all was well with their family, as long as Y/n was there. As soon as Jake was gone she’d comfort her siblings and give them all her love. That was just the type of person she was.
*
Jake and Neytiri ripped Y/n apart. Their love was toxic to the child..
Jake would practically tell Y/n not to listen to her mother when she instructed her to stay behind during training and Neytiri would have Y/n sit on her lap while she cried, it may have seemed sweet until you realized that she was crying from the stress of canceling on her father and him yelling at her while her mother sat and watched..there’s no denying that she’d loved them until her final breathe.
They isolated her..
*
“Y/n! Y/n! Y/n! What you waiting for?”
“Please come out and play with us!”
“Y/n likes to stay in the house children..she can’t play right now.” (Neytiri)
“Oh..please let her come out and play with us now..”
“She can’t, she has important Navi’s to meet today..” (Jake)
Jake passed a smile at the young children, he heard himself say pure bliss. Y/n was being set up to meet perfect leaders that will help guide her and Neteyam as clan leaders. The child sat in silence with a saddened face, making eye contact with the children right before her father closed the curtain..
M-A-M-A-G-I-R-L
mama’s girl
mama’s girl
D-A-D-D-Y-G-I-R-L
daddy’s girl
daddy’s girl
*
When it was time for dinner in the morning, Y/n ate in silence. Her eyes were red from the crying. Jake didn’t even dare to stare longer, knowing that he too was upset..
Tsireya and Ao’nung had interrupted their breakfast to let them know that they’d be ready to teach as soon as they’re ready and to meet them at their Maui. The entire family walked in silence ready to greet the Tonowari, Ronal and their kids.
Ronal was instructing Tsireya on what’d it be best to start with today..however a certain someone in the small crowd of demon bloods caught her attention. All teens were quietly discussing amongst themselves except Y/n…she was dazed and looking right past Ronal, sheeply smiling at the home.
“Y/n!..are you tired today?”
The exhaustion was practically noticeable to the healer who can feel it. Y/n immediately glanced at her father, seeing his smile had dropped and she was now frightened that he’d be upset and start an argument right then and there.
“..no.”
She passed a gentle smile, attempting for it to wash over.
“No..okay you look a little tired.”
“Perhaps, it’s all the traveling..im sorry. I can assure you , your home and island has done me good the last couple of hours..sorry.”
Ronal was satisfied in Y/n’s answer. Soon it was time to begin training and the adults and children went their separate ways.
Ao’nung didn’t know where he’d even begin to start a conversation with her…but he found a way.
“..so not tired?”
Y/n turned and laughed at his awkward attempt, smiling at his efforts, being silently grateful.
“I am, but that’s between us! Your island is very beautiful..”
“Once you get used to it, it’ll be ordinary..normal!”
“Yea..when it’s not an everyday thing, you’ll learn to appreciate it I guess. Sorry, what’s your name? Just asking so I get it right!”
“Ao’nung, and your Y/n correct?”
“Yes Ao’nung. How about we run in the water together!”
The young boy liked the way his name rolled off her tongue, she said it as though she knew him forever. Y/n made their conversation comfortable, and she even offered a good race. The rest of the practice went well and the group got awfully comfortable. Ao’nung and Y/n connected immediately. When Y/n got home that bond seemed to be the hottest topic at the table..
“How was practice today? Everyone did good?”
“Yes sir! Everyone did great, their ways are different but good to learn.”
Neteyam spoke proudly, despite his sadness about leaving his position back at home he felt good to learn new ways of life.
“..mmh im sure of that. Anything else?”
Everyone knew Jake was trying to get Y/n to talk, but her stubbornness wouldn’t allow it. She was furious with him, he had yet to feel bad about anything he said. Lo’ak however thought it’d be best to make his twin sister smile; he just didn’t realize what he was about to say would be the wrong place to bring it up.
“Ao’nung is crushing on Y/n!”
All four siblings turned to the brother, shocked that he’d bring up the topic they thought they had silently agreed not to.
“Hehe..no he’s not.”
Y/n replied with an awkward frustrated laugh and stern voice, telling her brother to be quiet.
“…Ao’nung mmh…you know you can’t y/n-“
“I never said I would.”
Jake’s face was surprised at how quick she was to talk back and he immediately got defensive.
“Well I’m ordering you not to.”
“Im not a soldier, Ao’nung and I are just friends.”
Y/n had left a distaste in Jake’s mouth that made him no longer want to speak. The family tried moving past it while Y/n stayed silent. In the back of Jake’s mind he was panicking, afraid Y/n wouldn’t focus on training and that she’d fall behind and never learn their way. All the issues would fall like dominos…if she fell behind, she wouldn’t learn, if she didn’t learn she would become dependent on Ao’nung, if he wasn’t there she wouldn’t know what to do, if she didn’t know what to do…she wouldn’t survive at all. He didn’t even take into consideration that Ao’nung was the one teaching her the way of water, he just thought of him as some boy..oh how was he so wrong..
!🎀!
REMEMBER MY INBOX IS OPEN!!!! 💕
@ruyaas-world @neteyamyanw3 @elegantkidfansoul @adaydreamaway08 @luxiniary @venomsvl
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sc0tters · 7 months
Text
In The Break | Mat Barzal
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summary: the Barzal house is at its breaking point without their key member their to save the day.
request: yes/no
warnings: swearing, grammar that I think a four year old would use.
word count: 2.09k
authors note: this is officially probably one of my favourite (soft) things that I’ve written. Like I can’t get over how cute everyone is. But like weirdly enough I can’t tell if I acc like this so I’m just going to how that it had the luna stamp of approval.
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You didn’t think would had ever been more excited to have Mat back home as you were in that moment.
Tilly had been teething and James wanted his father at every waking moment.
Your energy was practically nonexistent as your one year old wasn’t sleeping through the night and that meant that you weren’t either.
It seemed that all three of you were at your wits end and as both kids were sat in the playroom with Tilly sporting her red swollen cheeks. James had gone on about how he couldn’t wait to see his father you knew you were being stupid but it hurt you hearing his praise as he had done nothing but spew the negative words that were in your four year olds Arsenal.
You tried to brush his hair wanting to get him ready for the day “I’m home!” Mat called out as he opened the front door making both kids turn their heads in the direction of him.
Before you knew it you were shoved to the ground as they both seemed to finally behave as they stopped their negative moods “hi baby!” Mat cooed as he crouched down and wrapped his arms around the boy.
Tilly waddled after her brother causing her father to gasp at her improved abilities at walking “where is mama?” The hockey player’s eyes lit up as he saw you tuck your hair behind your ears.
A smile formed on Mat’s lips as he so effortlessly held the children to his sides “hi pretty lady.” It seemed that he didn’t take note of the dark circles that lay under your eyes “was thinking we could go get ice cream with them?” His words cause the kids to cheer as Mat kissed your lips.
That was honestly the last thing you needed to hear. Both kids had won the battle of avoiding nap time until their father got home “Til hasn’t had her nap yet.” You pointed out with a sigh.
You weren’t expecting any shut eye during this time as Mat had been gone for two weeks and you did miss your husband. But you knew that if both kids didn’t try for their naps you would be the one to truly pay the price later on “they won’t be that bad.” As all three sent you a smile you couldn’t help but sigh as you nodded conceding defeat.
It was almost like you could have been a fortune teller. Tilly had cried herself to sleep as she was so grumpy without her teddy that not even Mat’s arms could put her mind at ease.
And your sweet little James had been sat on his fathers lap with every chance he could get.
So now you were not only sleep deprived but you were also feeling neglected.
Mat loved seeing how his kids looked up at him but as he held James in his arms and had Tilly in the carrier as you walked ahead of them to the front door.
Getting Tilly to sleep was easy as you simply placed her in her cot where Mat offered to take over in changing her into her pyjamas. James on the other hand began to have a fit as he realised that his father was nowhere in sight as you sat down on his bed with a book “daddy daddy daddy!” He complained kicking his legs “J daddy is with Tilly right now.” You sighed opening the book.
Yet that seemed to aggravate your son further “I want daddy not you.” Again you knew that James didn’t know the gravity of his words but in that moment you wanted to just break down.
You tried to ignore him as you began reading “I hate you momma where’s daddy!” Having children was another moment of learning how to bite your tongue and you had been doing so much better “you think I want to be here either!” You yelled back finally letting your anger go “I’m tired and for the last two weeks you have treated me like I’m not here!” As James flinched your eyes went wide.
Not once in the four years of being his mom had you ever raised your voice “J I’m-” before you could reach out to apologise Mat walked in “daddy!” James cheered.
Mat sent you a look of concern as you got up “think he wants you to read this.” You mumbled shoving the book into his hands as you let the door shut behind you “momma always said this was a book huh?” Mat smiled as he nestled into the mattress as James rested against him.
Guilt drowned you as you sat with your hands around your knees letting the warm water from the shower land on your back before the droplets slowly dripped down your skin. Tears painted your cheeks as you so badly just wanted to wake up and see that this was all just some bad dream “baby?” Mat called out as he walked into the bedroom.
It didn’t take him long to realise that you were in the shower “shit y/n!” Your husband didn’t care that he walked into the shower with all of his clothes still on.
In one quick movement Mat helped you up before he pulled you into a hug “Mat!” You cried as the hockey player reached behind you to turn the shower off.
Your tears soaked his shirt as you realised all the things you are frustrated about, not being able to make Tilly feel better as she teethed, James deciding that he hated you and how you let it get to you. But most of all how Mat came in and ruined the schedule you set with the kids.
Usually you wouldn’t have cared if they missed a day but you were tired and felt unloved and for that you let it irritate you today.
So you pushed Mat away as he handed you a towel “baby?” He was surprised to see the glare you sent him as you wiped your eyes.
Mat stood there with wide eyes “you went against me today.” The only rule you had about being parents was that you two had to remain united and that’s kind of hard when he ignores your scheduling.
He remained silent as you continued “how am I meant to keep it together here when you come in and play god or some shit becoming their favourites all over again.” You knew you were being stupid but it made you want to cry as you thought about it when your throat grew tight.
The hockey player scoffed “sorry that when I don’t see the kids for two weeks I want to go do something fun with them!” He felt like your statement was beyond aggressive as it quickly turned into a screaming match “Mat I told you that they needed to sleep and you still went with what you wanted!” Before he could even think about his rebuttal the baby monitor went off.
Tilly’s cries pulled your attention away from your husband “I would go but I’d hate to fuck with her sleep schedule.” Mat’s words had you rolling your eyes as you wrapped the towel around your body “fuck off Mat.” You spat shaking your head as you walked out of your room and down the hall to hers.
Her eyes grew full as she turned her head to see you “hi my love.” You cooed picking her small body up letting her head rest against your shoulder.
Usually you weren’t one for picking her up and rather just showing her that you were there but tonight you needed a hug from someone who seemed happy to see you.
So you two stood like that for fifteen minutes as your gentle swaying of your body caused her to finally settle “good night my girl.” You placed her back into her crib before you brought your fingers to your lip kissing them before you let them press softly on her forehead.
The darkness of the hallway back to your room reminded you of the state that of chaos that you had left Mat in.
You nervously chewed at the inside of your cheek before you took a final deep breath and pushed the door open.
Mat seemed like a shell of himself as he had the baby cam in his hand as he replayed the footage of you humming some random rhyme as Tilly fell asleep “I never know how you do that with her.” Mat blurted out as you were always the one to save them when the kids woke up in the night.
It was a taken that Mat could never even fathom as he tried everything but most of the time their own tiredness would come back and bring them into a deep sleep.
Wanting to discard the towel you found one of Mats shirts that you had folded that morning so you put that on instead of your own clothes. You remained quiet as you brought the towel to the bathroom unaware of how Mat followed you “I don’t mean to always play good cop with them it’s just that I’m not always around in the season and-” Mat rambled on as he ran his fingers through his hair.
Now your guilt about lashing out at him came out “it’s fine babe.” You shook off his thoughts as you turned to face him “no it’s not.” It was clear that the hockey player wanted you and the kids around more than he got to see you “you’re their great mom and an even greater wife to me.” His hands wrapped around your neck as you hugged him.
Somehow that contact felt different to the one from thirty minutes ago. This time it was with love and care as he watched you smile when his lips pressed against your head “you deserve to be treated better than you are.” Mat had tried coming up with the lecture for James but he didn’t know how to do it without getting angry at his son.
Sure two years ago James was a total momma’s boy who refused to be with anyone who wasn’t you but Mat knew that if James spoke to him the way he had spoken to you, Mat would have lost it.
Maybe it sounded stupid but you had both gone through your insecure moments with the kids and you were now realising that “can we go to bed then?” You yawned finally wanting that sleep that you had waited so long for.
Mat laughed as he nodded “let’s go.” He watched as you pulled him out of the room back into your bedroom where your bed was a sight for sore eyes.
The next morning you woke up to the sound of giggles and Bluey blaring through the speakers of the tv downstairs. Mat wasn’t next to you so he had obviously woken up to spend time with the kids.
You yawned stretching out as you smiled to yourself letting your back comfortably rest on the mattress “momma?” A soft voice came from the door causing you to look up.
James stood there with his plushie that Tito had brought him back from Vancouver over the summer “hi J,” before you could say anything more your eldest was running into your room as he jumped onto your bed and quickly into your arms.
The sight warmed your heart “what is it my baby?” You cooed running your fingers through his hair “I love you,” James looked up at you with tears in his eyes causing you to frown.
Your finger wiped at his cheek “I love you so much love why are you crying?” You didn’t mean for your words to come out confused as you tried to soothe the boy.
James fiddled with your bracelet, a habit he picked up watching you do it when you were nervous “sorry I yell at you in room.” Your mom had told you that you were going to have moments where you knew you were a good parent and this felt like it was that.
You gave the boy a squeeze as you kissed the top of his head “I’m sorry too.” You mumbled with both you turning to the door as you heard someone walk up the stairs “you two got room for two more?” Mat asked as he pressed a kiss to Tilly’s cheek drawing a giggle from her lips.
The sight gave you so much joy as your heart felt full “always.”
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thoughtsforsoob · 2 months
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txt x latina!reader
a/n: I know some people said not to write this but I desperately want to :( I think this is really self-indulgent but I hope at least one or two people will enjoy this post and maybe find it comforting or relateable. Latina!MOA, I love you !!!
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yeonjun
the first thing that came to my head was him getting along with any siblings/cousins you may have
hispanic families are pretty big and he really enjoys being around everyone and getting to know your family
all the tias also try to steal him away from you and like to ask him all kinds of questions about his jobs
they're all impressed with him and he's all red because all the attention makes him shy
later on, they text you being all like "congrats mija, you picked a good one"
I also feel like he would want to impress your parents so badly
he wants to make a great first impression so he bring your mom a pretty bouquet of her favorite flowers and a necklace ("ay no! pesto es de marca buena!")
for your dad, he brings him a fancy liquor bottle and something else he has an interest in (he begs for your help to find the perfect gift and you're all like, "don't worry! he doesn't worry about being gifted things"
ends up buying him fancy watch and your dad is just in shock with the Rolex in his hand
he makes a great impression for say the least
you mom texts him to check on your when you haven't checked in and they even hang out by themselves when you visit home. she called him "hijito"
your dad is a little skeptical (because who's dad isn't) but eventually comes around when yeonjun invites him to a sporting event together. they have a couple drinks, get to talking and he expresses that his intentions with you are serious, which pleases your dad.
soobin
he's so shy when you tell him that your parents are coming to visit because he hadn't thought it would happen so soon
he was only doing practice schedules for that week so he was able to spend time with them when he got home
he begs you to teach him some Spanish so that he can make a good impression and try him best to connect with them, even if they also speak English.
he comes home one night and they're in the living room, you in the kitchen fixing up dinner...he's frozen but manages a small wave and a little "hola~"
your mama finds him very sweet looking and gets up, going him a hug and squishing one of his doughy cheeks.
your dad on the other hand...not very impressed...(latino dads like the mach types for their baby girls and soobin isn't very...yknow)
he notices this and walks over to shake his hand, which your dad reluctantly does
you come into the living room and call everyone for dinner, which happened to be pozole since it was super cold out
soobin loves the meal and it impresses your parents (you've been feeding him mexican dishes to prepare him for their visit and he loves them so you gave nothing to worry about)
you have to facilitate the conversation but the night ends without incident
the next day, you and soobin take your parents out to some sights
he does his best to explain where they were in the little English and Spanish he knew and you're parents appreciate his effort
he buys meals and pays for all four of you and they urge him not to but he insists because he wants to prove that he cares about them and takes care of you on the daily
they enjoy their trip and overall approve of him
beomgyu
he knew that you were hispanic when you first started dating and also begged you to teach him some Spanish so he can impress your parents when he eventually meets them
once you express your family dynamic with him, he becomes a little more understanding
he knew that you struggled to get along with your family because of the choice you'd made to move abroad but never fully understood it until one day when your parents had called you
he had just come home from filming a To Do with the boys that day and he heard you on the phone, so he sat next to you
you let him say hello and he got up and walked off to take a shower
the conversation, like it so often happens to, switch to the topic of you moving away and when you were going to come back
when you let them know you're not coming back and they you were established and had a boyfriend, your mom and dad started to get upset, once again
something a long the lines of "Hija, you can't seriously want to live there forever? What about your family? We miss you? Plus, you should really date someone a little different. Ese muchacho no es hombre."
you go off about how it's not fair how they try to guild you like this and immediately hang up
beomgyu heard a little bit of it and vaguely understood what they'd said so he comes to you to try to help you calm down a little
he holds you while you cry to him about the argument you just had and how they want you to go home and leave him for someone else
he comforts you so well
"I may not understand why they think it's okay to try and tell you what to do, but you're old enough to make your own choices and choose whoever you want to be with. I understand your culture is a little different from mine but I try to understand. we're gonna work this out and I'll make sure they like me."
your smile up and him and go about your night, making dinner and having a nice self care night since he knew you desperately needed it.
taehyun
this guy is so supportive of you, especially because he knows there are struggles that come along with being a foreigner
he is so interested in learning Spanish
he will sit there with you, textbook and notebook on the table, and go over grammar and vocab and everything
he loves practicing with you by saying sweet things and integrating vocab into everyday conversation
he really wants to impress you, and eventually your family
he also wants to connect with you on a deeper level
back to the being a foreigner thing...he really supports you and gets so angry when people say stuff about you in public
you were both at a cafe one time and an older woman kept staring at you
taehyun noticed and tried to move you behind him but she kept looking in your direction
she eventually comes up to you both and starts asking you a bunch of questions that weren't so kind and tyunnie was so annoyed and upset
you, being the nice person you are, patiently answered her questions even if they bothered you as well
once she left, tyun looked at you with his big pretty eyes and asked you if you were okay
you've also had younger girls, around your age, make snarky comments about you In public but taehyun knows exactly what to do in these scenarios
he pulls you in by your waist and kisses you just to shut them up
she loves your differences so much and celebrates them any chance he gets
huening kai
baby loves the food and when you speak to him in spanish
she loves the pet names in Spanish and says they somehow seem more sweet
his favorite would def be "mi amortico"
when you call him that he just melts into a puddle
his favorite one to call you is "bebe" because he thinks it perfectly captures you
like I said, he loves the food
when hes hungry, he now has the habit of just making a simple quesadilla just the way you taught him
he burns himself the first couple tries when flipping the tortilla with his bare hands but he gets the hang of it eventually
he hates that there isn't more Mexican food/ingredients in Korea but whenever its possible, he orders stuff online and surprises you with it!
he will want to learn all of the recipes you know and calls them your cooking dates
oh my goodness...when he meets you parents
they think he's kind of goofy looking (something my parents would say) but they would ultimately deem him a sweet boy
I feel like he is a grandmas boy so he is sticking to your grandma and you the whole time
your grandma feeds him tortillas with limon y sal and he is just so happy eating them
he also wants to learn Spanish so he can communicate better with abuelita (and you ig LMAO)
he loves your culture and how lively it is
he loves dancing with you at these family parties
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foreverdolly · 2 years
Text
my bestest girl | austin!elvis x reader
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summary: you're elvis’s childhood best friend, and he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. his mother and father keep trying to push him to finally make a move, what with you being the only girl that they would ever approve of their son going steady with. elvis, bashful and fearful of rejection, decides to keep his feelings to himself. . . well- that is until he can’t physically take it anymore
pairings: austin!elvis x fem!reader
word count: 9,173 ( I couldn't stop typing ).
warnings/notes: SMUT !, cursing, the reader and elvis are both huge virgins, grinding, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, implied breeding kink, elvis loves you so much that it physically pains him. the internal image of an inexperienced, nervous elvis has me foaming at the mouth. everyone always writes austin!elvis as a sex god, but quivering boys with shaky, wandering hands who cry during sex is my own personal kryptonite. a continuation of this fic is currently in the works, so please follow me or ask to be added to my taglist for my virgin!elvis content if ya liked this.
masterlist | requests are currently closed !
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“Mama, here you go again! Stop tryin’ to stick your nose into other people’s business.” He called from his bedroom, his heart pounding against his chest. Elvis stared at himself in the small mirror he had in his cramped space, taking a few steps back so that he could make sure that his short sleeve button up didn’t have any wrinkles. He had insisted that he do the ironing himself, not wanting his mother to be too overwhelmed with things to do. He wasn’t very good when it came to housework, no matter how hard he tried. 
“I’m not doin’ anythin’ a mother shouldn’t do, baby! I ran into her daddy at the grocery store, and we just got to talkin’ is all.” Is that what she wanted to call it? Vernon had pulled Elvis aside just thirty minutes ago and had told him that Gladys had practically begged your father to get you to come over for dinner tonight. She’d been meddling in his relationship with you for years, but tonight was different. He could tell that she had something up her sleeve, ready to pull out once she got two of you cornered at the dinner table. 
She had always been wildly overprotective of her son, and Elvis had never fought the hold that she had over his life. He didn’t blame her one bit for it, rather he enjoyed feeling loved and cared for. He never spent a single night away from home until he was seventeen, for crying out loud. If Elvis lost a son the same way that she had, he was positive that he’d want nothing more than to keep him safe and healthy. That was exactly what Gladys was doing. She looked after him and made sure he never got himself into any sort of trouble. His old pals from high school used to say that she felt “threatened” by the girls that used to try their hand at flirting with him, but the blue eyed boy knew that it just wasn’t the case. No, she wanted him to be with the right girl. 
In Glady’s and Vernon’s eyes, you were the only girl for Elvis. He felt that way about you too. 
When he reached puberty and moved to Memphis, girls started paying more and more attention to him. The one girl that he wanted to look in his direction never did though. His sultry voice, long eyelashes, and crooked smile never worked on you. Good lord, had he tried it time and time again, but you never acted interested. Despite the dull ache of rejection that Elvis always felt in your presence, he never could shake you. Not that he wanted to. You were just as much family to him as his own parents were, what with the fact that you two had always been connected at the hip. He couldn’t go a single day without phoning you up, the two of you chatting excitedly about your latest Beale Street shenanigans. 
His love and attraction for you never dimmed, and his eyes never strayed. Elvis was positive that you were the girl that he was supposed to marry. . . but he knew that you didn’t feel the same way. He smoothed a few stray pieces of ebony hair back into place, chewing nervously at the inside of his cheek. “Sure, sure. You only did what you thought was right.” He moved to stand in the doorway of his room, pressing his hip against the wooden frame. “But mama?” She was anxiously setting the table, and stopped what she was doing so that she could meet his gaze. 
“You can’t force her to feel somethin’ that she doesn’t, alright? I’m perfectly fine with just bein’ her friend.” That was a lie. The words burned his tongue the second that he said them, but he refused to take back the statement. He wasn’t going to say anything to you that might potentially push you away. He’d rather not have you romantically than not have you at all. Elvis was sure that he might just keel over if you never spoke to him again. The remorseful look on his mother’s face didn’t escape him, but he made the decision to ignore it. He didn't want anybody's pity. Not right now, at least. You’d be here any second, and the last thing he needed was to start moping around. You would be sure to notice. 
He wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks, clearing his throat as he straightened out his shoulders. “Now what can I do to help, satnin?” He cooed to his mother, watching the way the nervousness dissipated from her expression. 
He was helping to lay out the silverware, but paused as there was a knock on the door. “That must be our girl. Elvis, how ‘bout you get that?” Vernon spoke from the kitchen, probably busy sneaking a few spoonfuls of his mother’s famous ambrosia salad, which she would be sure to notice. His father would be getting an earful about it later. 
The man was at the door in the blink of an eye, his long legs quickly stalking across the small home. He ripped the door open with a wide smile, eager to see you after the few days that you two had been apart. You were like a drug to him- at this point he couldn’t go too long without you, not without suffering withdrawals. You blinked in shock, a few strands of your bangs fluttering with how violently he had ripped the damn thing open. 
Standing in front of you was a very eager looking Elvis, his plush pink lips upturned into his signature smile. Judging by the way you were quick to step into the house and wrap your arms around him, he could tell that you were excited to see him as well. “That was the longest trip of my life.” You sighed against his chest, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go. He found it hard to speak for a few seconds, so he decided to nod his agreement. You and your family had taken a last minute vacation to Cherokee Lake Beach, deciding that the summer break would be a better time than ever to celebrate your father’s recent promotion. Last night had been your first day back, but you had claimed to be too tired for a visit, so Elvis made do with the half hour phone call you made to him. 
Gladys had been lucky enough to bump into your dad after the week long vacation, which was how he had ended up in this mess. Elvis was too mortified to ask about all of the details, knowing that his loud mouthed mother probably gushed to the middle aged man about her son’s private thoughts and feelings. You were dolled up, which wasn’t completely unusual. You always went out of your way to look pretty- but you had even dusted your wide doe-like eyes with a shimmery shadow. Your cheeks were naturally flushed, your skin glowing after the days of soaking up the sun. He was taken aback by your beauty. So much so that he just stood there, his blue eyes half lidded as he took you in. For a moment neither of you spoke. You merely stared at one another, basking in each other’s presence. That was until Vernon spoke, that is. 
“Gladys cooked you a welcome home feast, darlin’. I hope you’re hungry.” Elvis could have cursed at his father, your beautiful eyes leaving his face and instead turning in the direction of the kitchen. 
Your lips moved up into a lazy smile, and soon you were moving closer to Vernon, wrapping your arms around him quickly as the two of you exchanged your hellos. He gave the top of your head a quick kiss before letting you go. Gladys was next, moving from the kitchen so that she could wrap you up in one of her usual bear hugs. She peppered your cheek with kisses, rubbing your arm up and down when she pulled away so that she could get a good look at you. “Why, look at you!” She purred, giving you a once over. “You look beautiful, y/n.” 
And you did. Then again, Elvis couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t thought you looked gorgeous. Whether you were stumbling out of your room after a long night's rest, sleep caked in your eyes and your hair sticking up on end, or as sick as a dog- Elvis always found you gorgeous. He was smitten to the point of being lovesick for crying out loud. 
“Did you make the ambrosia salad?” He heard you ask from the kitchen, your small frame disappearing into the tiny space. You and his mother always got along like two peas in a pod, but he couldn’t help but glare after his mother who had stolen you away from him so soon into the visit. 
Vernon took it as his opportunity to move towards the dining room table, taking his seat. Elvis hesitantly followed suit, nervously looking down at his shirt one last time, attempting to brush out a wrinkle with his hands, his silver watch jingling softly with the movement. “Son,” His father kept his voice low, leaning forward on his elbows. “Your mother and I are goin’ to watch a movie together once we’re through with eatin’.” Elvis’s eyes furrowed in confusion, but he nodded his head anyway. “What movie are we seein’?” It wasn’t like his father to go to the movies. His parents never spent money on frivolous things like the cinema. Vernon was quick to shake his head, reaching into his pocket to show him just two tickets. “I just thought that you and y/n might like some time to yourselves tonight.” Elvis had to pinch his nose to keep from exploding, his cheeks hot with both anger and embarrassment. Now how the hell was he supposed to explain all of this to you? “Daddy- you’re just as bad as mama is!” He whisper-yelled. Before he had time to scold his father any further, his two girls emerged from the kitchen, arms full of serving dishes. 
Warm biscuits, mashed potatoes with gravy made from drippings, green beans and hamburger steaks. His mother really had gone out for your long overdue return to the presley household. You sat next to Elvis wordlessly, and when he turned to face you he could tell that your cheeks were a little pinker than they had been before. He blinked a few times, but settled further into his seat, grabbing the linen napkin off of the table so that he could put it on his lap. The four of you all joined hands, your mother insistent that you all say grace before she began putting heaping servings on to everyone’s plate. 
“So? How was the lake, y/n? I’m sure you and your family had quite the time down there.” Vernon was quick to engage you in conversation. 
Your arm brushed against Elvis’s side every time you moved your fork around on the plate, and each time his stomach did a flip. He found it hard to even focus on eating, so he just moved his food around from one spot to the other, hoping that his mother wouldn’t notice his lack of appetite. If she did, she didn’t comment on it. Instead she was too focused on her role as “matchmaker”. 
“It was wonderful! I got to teach my baby cousin how to swim while we were down there.” Imagining you carefully taking care of your aunt Valerie’s son made his heart seize up. Elvis had always wanted children, and lots of them. He saw how it had completed his own mother and father’s lives, and he wanted that for himself. His career had steadily been taking off, and though he hadn’t really gotten his big break yet, his single ‘That’s Alright’ was doing pretty well. They had just played it on the KWAM radio station the other night, and he had quite literally jumped for joy. Once he was settled enough in his career, he wanted to start a family and get married. Hopefully by some time next year, he might be far enough ahead in his life where that could be something to seriously think about. That is. . . if you ever returned the sentiment. His mother seemed to be thinking the same thing, because her eyes softened. 
“You’d make a mighty fine mama someday. I know you wanted to go to college once your younger sister graduates high school, but I’d hope you’d be thinkin’ ‘bout marriage too right around that time.” Elvis widened his eyes at his mother, his mouth parting in shock at her boldness. 
Your cheeks heated up all over again, but you slowly nodded your head. “I’d like to be able to support my parents someday, which was why I wanted to go and get my education. I do want a family someday though. . . It just depends.” Your southern drawl was as sweet as sugar. Your voice has always been one of the many sources of Elvis’s weak spots for you. He glanced over, catching the way you were looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He swallowed thickly, filling his fork with mashed potatoes so that he could keep himself busy. 
Gladys hummed her approval, but continued to hone in on the subject. Elvis knew that this was going to be a shit show. . . but it was almost like the woman was going out of her way to embarrass him. “Elvis has always wanted a family, ever since he was a little boy. Isn’t that right, baby?” He nearly choked on his food, covering his mouth with his hand as he cleared his throat. You seemed to notice the panic on his face, because you were quick to hand him his glass of sweet tea. He gulped it back appreciatively. 
“The both of you are quite the lookers. If you two ever had any youngins, they’d be models.” It was your turn to choke on your food, narrowly avoiding getting a green bean stuck in your windpipe. Elvis reached out, giving your back a few pats before glaring at his mother. 
“Mama! That’s enough, ya hear? Give it a rest.” He spoke through clenched teeth, shaking his head in disbelief. To say that he was mortified would be an understatement. He knew that the two of you were in for a treat the second that his mother had practically skipped home last night to tell him the news, but god damn it this was horrifying. He was too scared to even look in your direction, fully convinced that the second his parents left the house you would be sure to reject him. It would be brutal, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive it. 
“I was just tryin’ to help-” Gladys started to mumble, but Elvis stood up from the table, the chair loudly scraping against the wooden floors. He tossed his napkin down onto his plate, staring the woman down. 
“Daddy, don’t you think the two of you should start headin’ to the theater? Wouldn’t want ya to be late.” His low voice was thick with humiliation, his lush lashes casting shadows on his cheeks as he turned his attention to his father. The man quickly nodded, standing up so that he could grab Gladys by the arm. “You’re right, son. Come on, dollface. Let’s get goin’.” 
Elvis could tell that his mother was starting to realize the embarrassment she had caused. She was damn near tears as she gave her son a soft pat on the back, and for once in his life he didn’t pay any mind to it. Elvis was a mama’s boy, and proud of it. He had taken care of his parents all of his life, both financially and emotionally. The only thing he asked for was privacy every now and again, because he had always been careful around you for a reason. Losing you would kill him. He’d be absolutely gutted. He shoved his hand into his pocket as the front door closed behind his parents, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He was staring absentmindedly at the table, his mind flying at a mile a minute as he tried to come up with something to say to you. Anything to fix whatever the hell his mother just did. 
Gladys Love Presley might as well have shouted from the rooftop that her son was in love with you. She had just hammered that final nail into his coffin. There was no getting out of this one. Over the many years that the two of you had known each other, he had slipped up on numerous occasions. Just two years ago he had tried to kiss you at a party, and when you had leaned away he had feigned drunkenness when in actuality the man had barely had a drop to drink the entire night. This was worse somehow. He could feel the tension in the air so thick that he could barely breathe. 
“Well, now ya know.” He threw his hands up, his heart pounding with nervousness or anger- he just didn’t know anymore. He couldn’t differentiate between the tsunami of emotions that were washing over him. You kept silent, but he could feel the weight of your gaze. He swallowed thickly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was hopin’ she wouldn’t be so obvious for once in her god damned life.” He moved away from the table, pacing back and forth in the living room. 
“Elvis, I’m not up-” “Just let me talk, okay? I at least want you to hear it from my mouth and not hers. She’s spoken for me my entire life,” He motioned towards the door, tapping his foot angrily. “So I don’t know why I’m shocked.” 
You bit your own lips to keep them from quivering, and he watched you distractedly for a few more seconds before finally taking a deep breath, running his large hands over his face. “I’ve never been able to get you off of my mind. You ran into me in the hallway on our first day of school, do ya remember that?” Despite his darkcast mood, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “You were wearin’ that pink gingham dress? The one your mama forced you to wear. . . and I thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You smelled like gardenias, and were always eating peaches with your packed lunches. You were mean to every boy that ever approached you- but not me.” He shook his head, his voice thick as he remembered the first time he ever saw you. “You were a baby faced daydream of a girl, and I’ve never been able to get enough of you. I never will.” 
Elvis didn’t want to look at you for too long. He could tell by your expression that you were close to tears. He was neck deep into the confession now, and he didn’t want to leave anything out. He had been bursting at the seams for years. Bursting with love, and it felt good to get it all off of his chest. Damn good. 
“I don’t have eyes for anyone else. You asked me why I turned Dixie down last year when she asked me out, and it’s because you’ve blinded me. You’re so bright, I can’t see anyone else. I know you don’t feel the same way that I do. You’ve made it very clear over the years. . . but I just want you to know that I’m madly in love with you. My heart just aches. It’s disgustin’ how much I love you, really.” He laughed humorlessly, kicking his shoe against his mother’s rug. 
He could hear your soft hiccups from across the room, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run to you and hold you, even for just a second, or if he wanted to find some means of escape. Either way, he had done it. There really wasn’t much else for him to say or do, other than just wait to hear what you had to say. He just hoped you’d be nice about it all. You were always kind to him, but maybe he had crossed a line. Maybe he had incurred your wrath somehow. 
He opened his arms out wide at his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally locking his eyes on you. “Go ahead. Get it over with, y/n.” He didn’t want to beat around the bush with the rejection. You needed to rip it off quickly like a band-aid.    
╚══•●•══╝
Your father had tried to emotionally prepare you for the night. He had accepted the invitation on your behalf, knowing everything that Gladys had in mind for the dinner. It was no secret to any of your family or close friends that you were in love with Elvis Presley. He was just as much a part of your everyday life as breathing was. The two of you had done everything together. From attending senior prom to getting drunk for the first time, most young adult milestones had been reached together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Despite your unchanging feelings, you were no stranger to the way that other girls looked at Elvis. You’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful he was. From his sultry blue eyes framed by thick black lashes to his plush lips and perfectly-imperfect smile; Elvis was irresistible. Nobody would ever compare to his looks. And his voice? It was smooth and velvety like honey. You had stopped being nervous around him years ago, and instead suffered your crush internally. Whenever friends or family asked, you always brushed the topic off. Either telling them that you weren’t ready to tell him, or that you were certain that he didn’t feel the same. Either way, it wasn’t time. When was it ever going to be though? The older the two of you got, the more of your old friends from school started getting engaged or married. 
One day Elvis was bound to find someone worth proposing to. One day you’d have to be forthright with him and your feelings. 
Elvis had always turned girls down, and you had gotten too comfortable with that fact. One day the right girl was bound to ask him out, and for once he wouldn’t say no. You’d be left in the dust. So when your father came bounding into the house, his eyes alight with excitement, you couldn’t see what there was to be so happy about. 
“Elvis has something he wants to tell you tomorrow night. Gladys wanted me to make sure you’re at their house for supper.” Your stomach had dropped. What was so exciting? The big news could be a handful of things: he finally found a worthwhile person to manage him, he got a well paying gig, his career was beginning to take off. All you could think about was the fact that he could be telling you that he finally got himself a girl. All night you had practiced your smile in front of the mirror. As you sat there at your vanity, your pink lips pulled back in a wide grin, you couldn’t wipe the sadness from your eyes. Tomorrow was going to be the worst day of your life, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was like knowing you were about to get in a car accident, but you were unable to pull over to the side of the road. You just had to keep driving, hands glued to the steering wheel and foot nailed to the gas pedal. 
You had taken extra care in your appearance that night, even going as far as to apply a soft pink eyeshadow to your lids. If you were going to get your heart broken you at least wanted to look pretty. 
Elvis always looked at you with kind eyes, but the way that he had opened the door that night had left you stunned into silence. Your chest burned like it was on fire. The longer you looked at him, the more in love you fell. Right when you thought that you couldn’t love the boy any more- it was impossible- he would look at you like that. You had quickly searched the living room for any sign of another girl, but found none. The only purse to be seen was Gladys’, and the middle aged woman’s voice was the only one to be heard. 
It wasn’t until Gladys had you cornered in the kitchen that you finally clued in that she had schemed something up for the two of you. Right as you were grabbing all the food that you could fit in your arms, the woman leaned in close, her eyes twinkling. “You’d make the perfect daughter in-law.”  If Elvis and Vernon had noticed the way your face had flushed a bright red, neither of them commented on it. 
Gladys only continued throughout the night, driving the point home. If the news wasn’t about him having a girlfriend, then what could it possibly be? He hadn’t said anything about his singing yet. The more aggravated and embarrassed Elvis became throughout the dinner, the more confused you became. 
It wasn’t until Elvis mentioned his parent’s surprise movie date that it all finally clicked. 
You’d never seen the man get so upset with his mother before. Sure, she could get a bit overbearing and annoying at times, but he had more patience than anyone else you’d ever met before. He treated his parents like they were his own children, and never minded their meddling before now. His cheeks were red with anger, a few pieces of black hair falling out of place as he began to pace in the living room. They hung in his eyes, bouncing a bit with his constant movement. “Elvis, I’m not up-” You wanted to let him know that you weren’t upset with him or his mother, but he cut you off before you could get the words out. 
You didn’t know that you were holding your breath until you felt as though you were going to faint. You sucked in a deep breath, watching him with wide, teary eyes once he finally turned to face you. He had always been a poet, in his own right. He wrote beautiful songs, but you never had prepared yourself for such sugar-coated words to be spoken to you so directly like this. You weren’t sure what to say. How in the world were you ever supposed to say anything half as romantic and as beautiful as that, especially in the heat of the moment like this? You sniffled softly, wiping at your tear stained cheeks before you stood up on shaky legs. His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, so despite his calm expression, you could tell that he was panicking. He had never been so vulnerable like this in front of you. 
You began making your way up to him, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his expression. He noticed your tears, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Just say what you need to say.” He assured you, his arms dropping back down to his sides. It was crazy, but he really thought that you were about to turn down his affections. There wasn’t even a shred of hope in his bright blue eyes. 
“You’re either blind,” Your voice shook as you spoke, but you kept going. “Or an idiot, EP.” His eyebrows slowly began to furrow in confusion. He licked his dry lips before opening his mouth. “You don’t have to insult me too, ya know. Jesus.” His eyes began filling with tears, and that was all it took. 
You couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing his face contorted with pain, his eyes so very blue and so very sad- it pushed you over the edge. You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to your height. Your movement was so rough and jerky that one of the buttons even flew off, but you paid it no mind. There was no time for apologies. 
His lips felt full and plush against your own, albeit a little chapped from the way he had been nervously chewing them during dinner. You had been kissed, but only once before. It had been a horrible slobbery mess, and even though Elvis had laughed at your expense all those years ago, you could tell that he was upset. Now you recognized it as jealousy. 
You poured everything you could into that kiss, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks and hold him in place as you slowly moved your lips against his, the tip of your tongue gently lapping against his bottom lip. You were easing him into it, and judging by his hands that shakily wrapped around your waist, he was terrified shitless. Scared or not, he was excited out of his mind to finally kiss you. Taste you. His unsure hands tightened their hold, his large hand sliding up from your hip to your back, pressing you flush against him. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and the second that it registered to Elvis, he gasped against your lips. 
“I don’t know what I’m doin'.” He mumbled shyly against your mouth, his hot breath fanning over your face. You allowed your eyes to flutter open, your thumbs brushing against his warm cheeks. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did right then. His eyes were half lidded and laden with a lust that he still didn’t quite understand. His cheeks were flushed, and as you pulled back a little more so that you could get a better look at him, his lips looked pink and kissed. You breath locked up in your chest as you noticed his eyes still looked watery. You moved your hand upwards, gathering up one of the unshed tears that had become tangled in his thick lower lashes. “I don’t either.” You admitted with a smile. He chuckled, his hand moving further up your back so that he could gently cup the back of your neck. “Let’s learn together.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so bold, but it was worth it to see his reaction. 
He hurriedly pressed his lips against yours, the both of you slowly moving backwards. Neither of you were sure where you were trying to go, but you just knew that you needed to get closer somehow. One of your hands moved from his face as you felt something pressing against your lower back, moving to try and blindly figure out just what it was. Elvis didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the two of you had ended up back in the dining room. He wordlessly bent down, placing his hands at the back of your thighs so that he could sit you down on the table. It was his turn to run his tongue along your bottom lip, and you wasted no time granting him access. The two of you explored each other’s mouths tentatively at first, but the more time went on, the more hungry the both of you became. He couldn’t get enough of you. His hands shook with the weight of his neediness, his hands moving from your neck, to your hair, grabbing a fistful as he held you more firmly against him. The two of you had fallen into a pattern, and in a matter of seconds the kiss no longer felt inexperienced. The both of you moved your lips against one another as if you could somehow devour the other. You parted for a second so that you could take a few deep breaths, and Elvis took that time to press his lips against your chin, your cheek, and down your neck. 
You spread your legs so that he could step between them, your hands shaking as they gripped at the fabric of his cotton shirt. It felt like every single nerve ending was on fire. Anywhere he touched felt like someone was holding a flame to it. His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, his needy hands moving over your thighs, up your stomach, and stopping just below the swell of your breasts. His thumbs gently dug into the soft skin there, but it wasn’t enough for you. “For the love of god, touch me.” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. Elvis let out a loud groan against your skin, his hands moving up to cup you through the bodice of your dress. 
Your breasts felt heavy with want, even in his hands. He added pressure, his ring and middle finger pressing against your hardening nipples. You let out a loud yelp, your hips bucking on their own accord. Elvis’s hips jerked forward as he felt your core brush against his own, ripping his face out of your neck so that he could stare down at you with wide eyes. His pupils were completely blown out, his eyes more black than blue at this point. The noise you had let out as his hips moved against yours had been sinful. Never in your life had anything even remotely similar left your lips. He wanted to see what he was doing to you, so he moved his hips again but slower this time. Your jaw dropped, your lips parting as you felt him pressing against you. The movement directly stimulated your clit, and you couldn’t help but jerk against him slightly. It felt too good. 
It was almost too much, but still not enough, all at the same time. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him, concentrating hard on not making a sound. You weren’t sure why but it was embarrassing. Elvis’s lips also parted as he repeated the action, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he licked his lips, his arm wrapping around you so that he could get a better angle. He pressed against you harder, moving his head down to press a kiss against your top lip. “Make that sound again for me, baby. Please.” He sounded so good when he was begging for your validation. He wanted to know that he was making you feel good. He wanted to know that he was doing right by you, and god was he. Your eyes nearly rolled back at the mere sound of his voice, so deep it was practically a hum. 
His hand lowered from your back to your bottom, and he gripped hard, physically moving you against him in time with his hips. You moaned so loudly you could feel the sound reverberating in your chest. “Oh fuck.” You distantly heard him curse, but you were too focused on what he was doing to you to really understand what was going on around you. Your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers fumbling as they tried to undo the buttons. It must have been taking too long, because Elvis’s hands moved to cover yours. “J-Just rip-” He gently brushed your hands away gripping the front of his shirt with shaky hands. He moved his mouth down to yours, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. “Rip it.” He was breathless as he tugged at the shirt, the buttons popping off with small snapping sounds. He must have decided that unbuttoning the shirt would have taken too long, because the second that he felt air against his chest he moved your hands towards him, wordlessly begging you to feel him. You swallowed back his hot pants as he breathed against your lips, your hands moving against his soft skin. Your small hands brushed against the expanse of his chest, starting just above his belly button and moving upwards. The tips of your nails gently scraped against his nipples, and he jerked forward, letting out a small hiss. “I’m sorry.” You were quick to apologize, but he shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours as he searched your eyes. “I-I liked it.” 
Your eyelashes fluttered as you moved your hands up and over his shoulders. Despite his skinny frame, he was toned. You pulled away from his face, smiling softly as he tried to follow you, not wanting to be parted from you for even a second. You let your eyes brush over his chest, moving the shirt down his shoulders so that you could get your fill. For a second, even through the haze of lust, Elvis’s eyes flashed with uncertainty as he watched you take him all in. Sure, it was just his chest, but for a second he was scared that he might be too scrawny for your tastes. The second that your eyes finally met his, all doubts flew right out the window. He wet his lips as he took in your expression, his heart hammering in his chest. Never in his life had he ever seen a more beautiful girl. This look- this expression- was all for him. If he had anything to say about it, no one else would ever see you in this position. 
You were just his. All his. You knew it, and now he knew it too. “I love you.” His voice was so quiet that you barely heard it, and suddenly he had you laid out on the table, moving to push plates and silverware down or off the table- he didn’t care. You laughed against his mouth as a glass cup filled with tea shattered on the floor next to him. “Damn it.” He cursed with a smile, quickly going back to having his fill of your lips. His hands gently moved from the back of your knees to your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soft skin. 
He was damn near petting you, groaning into your mouth as he pressed himself flush against your core. You could feel him better at this angle, your eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before squeezing closed. He must have been painfully hard, and part of you were scared that if it already felt this good, that you might never want to stop. You loved him so much it was physically beginning to hurt. Never in your life did you ever want to be parted from this boy. Not even for a second. You opened your eyes again as his tongue pressed against yours, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kissed you. The ceiling light in the dining room hung directly overhead, looking more like a halo than anything to your tear blurred eyes. “I love you.” Elvis pulled away then, bracing one arm against the wooden table as he stared down at you, trying to decide if he had really heard you say that to him. He blinked a few times before he melted against you, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He pressed kisses against the flushed skin there. “Say it again.” 
“I love you.” His hands had snaked under your back then, lifting you up and off of the table. He backed up and out of the room, giving your small form a small squeeze. “Again.” 
“I love you.” He was walking blindly through the house, holding one arm against the nearest wall so that he could feel for the doorway. He peeked his eyes up from your shoulder, making the final couple of steps into his bedroom. He closed the door with his foot, shuffling over towards the bed. “Again.” He sounded breathless now, his voice thick with emotion. 
“Oh god, do I love you.” He placed a knee on the bed, gently setting you down before crawling over your form. His bottom lip quivered as he sat up on his knees, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. His hands moved to his belt, but he stopped himself. “I don’t want ya to feel pressured. How far were you wantin’ to go?” You knew that all you had to do was say the word and that Elvis would have stopped at any point. You were nervous, admittedly so, but you could tell that he was just as scared, if not maybe a little more so. The both of you seemed to want the same thing though. The both of you had already gone too far to back down now. You wanted him to be inside of you. Your body was humming with need at this point, the constant touches to your core working you up to the point of damn near frenzy. You were past the point of being nervous of what you were saying to him. You were usually careful with your words, but any and all shame had flown out of your body the second his lips had made contact with your neck. “I want you inside of me. Right now.” 
He let out a small whimper, his hands moving as quickly as they physically could as he removed his belt, tossing it onto the floor and doing the same thing with his pants. You were already sitting up, your hands moving to the zipper of your dress. You shrugged it off of you, kicking it down to the foot of the bed once it was off of you. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, but Elvis was on you in the blink of an eye, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, his hips nestling in between your legs. You could tell by the way he was staring at you that he truly liked what he was seeing. 
Elvis always looked at you with honest eyes, soft and kind for you always. But he was staring at you now like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on, and you were. He loved you. Every inch of you. He’d loved you since your embarrassing high school years, and over time the feelings had only managed to grow. They deepened with your bond, and at this point he was sure that he couldn’t love you any more than he already did. There was just no possible way. 
He pressed kiss after kiss against your lips, his hand moving up your thigh slowly, as if he were testing the waters. He was giving you a chance to back out. You didn’t say a word. His fingers finally brushed against you, gathering up a bit of your slick before gently moving upwards, continuing his exploration. The second his fingers brushed against your clit, you couldn’t hold back your obscene moan. Elvis was a fast learner, repeating the motion again and again as he pressed his finger against you in circular motions. Your body’s natural instincts took over, your hips rocking back and forth against your hands as he continued to bury his hand in between your legs. You could feel his cock against your inner thigh, completely unclothed now. Your hands moved down to feel him, but his free hand stopped you before you could. “I wanna make you feel good.” He said simply. Elvis’s blue eyes pinned you down, watching as you panted and writhed beneath him. After some time he sped up his ministrations, which elicited even more ungodly sounds from you. He ate it all up like a man starved, his jaw slack, his lips swollen from the constant kissing. You could feel yourself starting to come undone, your head pressed against the mattress. Your breathing sped up, and your heart rate with it. Elvis could tell that you were about to climax. He might have been a virgin, but that didn’t mean he was an idiot. Men often had no filter, and not all of his friends were as inexperienced as he was. 
He repositioned his fingers, moving so that his thumb was pressed against your clit, moving to bury two of his fingers into your cunt. You yelped in surprise, but found that it wasn’t uncomfortable like you once thought it might be. Your hands gripped his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your palm as he continued his movement. You felt something building up in your abdomen, your eyes beginning to fill with tears as the pleasure reached its peak. 
“That’s it, baby.” Elvis mumbled, feeling you flutter around his fingers, watching your face closely as you threw back your head, your body quivering as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, and for a second you swore that you had gone blind, your vision going white. After a few seconds you finally sucked in a deep breath, Elvis growling low in his chest as you tried to back away from him. The pleasure was getting to be too much. “Please,” You begged breathlessly, blinking back tears. “I need you.” You were beginning to get overstimulated, but the second that Elvis removed his fingers you felt the need to cry out. You felt so empty. 
You gripped at him wildly, your nails digging into his skin as he reached down, wrapping his large hand around his cock. You finally took the opportunity to look down at him, having not gotten a good look at him earlier. What you had felt and what you were now seeing were two completely different things. Sure, you’d never actually seen anyone’s dick before, but this exceeded your expectations. Even compared to his large hands, the man was huge. You swallowed thickly, leaning up slightly so that you could press your forehead against his. 
His head was an angry pink, begging to be touched in some way. Precum beaded down the entire length of him, the man dripping with need. Elvis watched you, trying to decipher your expression. Once he was positive that you had gotten a good look at him, he wasted no more time. He pressed his head against your entrance, both his own precum and your slick making it easy for him to press his way in. You were so turned on- so ready- that your body practically sucked him in. 
Elvis’s breathing was so loud that you could hear it, his chest rising and falling wildly. He was fighting off his base urges, wanting nothing more than to press all the way in and fuck you into the mattress. You could see the pulse in his neck, thumping away wildly as he stared down at you. Once he was sure that you were fine he pressed in further, repeating the process until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Despite the fact that your orgasm had warmed you up for what was to come, it did very little to spare you the pain. It was sharp and sudden, but dissipated just as quickly as it came. Elvis let you cling to him and didn’t say a word when your nails dug in a little too deep for comfort. His free hand cupped your cheek, shushing your soft whimpers and kissing your cheeks. You could feel him quivering against you, as if the emotions and sensations were too much for him to handle. He only began to move once he was positive that you were alright, pressing his forehead against yours as he watched you closely. His eyelashes brushed against yours when his eyes fluttered, his breath shuttering across your lips. His hips moved slowly at first, his moans quiet and under his breath. The second that you raked your nails down his back, letting out a moan of your own, he was gone. It was almost as though he just snapped. 
He sat up, pressing your back into the mattress as his hands moved to your hips. The different angle caused him to press against your cervix, and for a second it was painful. You cried out, gripping the comforter tightly in your hands as he continued to fuck into you. His moans turned to grunts, and then into growls. They rumbled low in his throat, the sound doing dangerous things to you. His jaw ticked as he watched you. He loved the way that your back arched, watching your breasts as they bounced with his frenzied movements. Elvis might not have known what he was doing, but he was going off of pure animalistic instinct. Never in all of his life did he think anything could feel this good. Your walls were soft and velvety, and pressed tight tight tight against him. If he had thought that he couldn’t live without you before, now he was certain. Elvis could have eaten you alive. 
His hips continued their assault as one of his hands moved back down to your core, pressing against that same spot that caused you so much pleasure before. Your walls instantly tightened around him, causing him to cry out at the sudden wave of pleasure. He was close, and he was positive that no matter what he did, he wasn’t going to last long. He wanted to do whatever he could to make you cum right along with him. His fingers moved against her wet core along with his thrusts, the two feelings combined almost too much for you to wrap your brain around. You could feel him everywhere. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and yet you couldn’t stop shivering. “Please, please, please.” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, just that you wanted something. No- you needed something. 
“I wanna cum inside.” Elvis’s voice was shaky from exertion, a thin sheen on his chest and beading on his brow. You were too blissed out to think too hard about whatever consequences that might have. All you knew was that you wanted more. Anything that he could give you of himself, you wanted it. You nodded quickly, moving your hips against his the best that you could. You could feel your own climax boring down on you like a weight, your walls already beginning to flutter around him. He leaned his torso over yours, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth. His lips muffled your cries of pleasure as you came and came hard. He followed close behind you, rutting into you a few more times before he broke the kiss so that he could press his face against your throat. You jumped slightly at the sudden warmth that began to pool in your abdomen. His hips pumped in and out of you every few seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You were starting to come down from your high, but you still managed to lazily move your hips against his, wanting all of it. Every last drop. You didn’t want any of it to go to waste. Not when it could be filling you up. 
He peppered your face with soft kisses, and it wasn’t until he pulled away that you realized that he must have been crying at some point, his eyes slightly red and his cheeks wet. “I love you.” You didn’t need to be assured, but at this point he was saying it just to say it. Just because he could. “My bestest girl.” He smiled down at you, rubbing small circles into your flushed cheeks with his thumb. 
You hummed lazily, finding it hard to keep your eyes open for too long. Elvis appeared to be wide awake, leaning his head against his hand as stared at you. After a few more seconds he slowly pulled out of you, and you couldn’t help but wince as you felt liquid leaking out of you. He reached down, using his ruined shirt to carefully wipe you up. He took his time, making sure that you were alright before pulling the comforter up and around you. “I’m goin’ to go get somethin’ to drink, alright?” He slipped his trousers back on, closing the door behind him as he stepped out of the room. Distantly you heard the front door open, Gladys and Vernon’s voices filling the small home. 
“Oh. . . did y/n leave already?” There was an awkward silence before you could hear the sink turn on in the kitchen. It only took the middle aged woman a few seconds to notice the broken glass. “What in the sam hell happened in here? Elvis Aaron Presley- you broke one of my good cups!” There was a mumbled sorry and the sound of shattered glass being tossed into the metal garbage bin. You waited with bated breath for him to return, pulling the blanket further up around yourself just in case someone walked in. “Gladys. . . baby. . . let’s go and head to our room, alright? I think y/n’s still here, darlin’.” It was obvious that Vernon had clued in on what happened immediately. You could hear the discomfort in his voice as he spoke. “She’s here and you’re lookin’ like that? Put on a shirt. . . “ Her voice trailed off, and for a second you were sure that both you and Elvis were goners. “So does this mean you two are goin’ steady? Really? Oh, Elvis. . . I’m so happy for you.” She lowered her voice in the hopes that you might not hear her, but her voice was naturally loud. “Thank you mama. Do you mind ringin’ up her folks and lettin’ them know she’ll be staying the night? I’ll sleep on the couch if need be-” You had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. Well, it was moot-point now. Gladys seemed to think the same thing. “Her father and I were just sayin’ yesterday how badly we wanted to see you two together. They’ll be over the moon. Head to bed now, alright? I’ll call her mama right now.” 
Elvis slipped into the room a second later, handing you a glass of water that you happily gulped down. He flicked the light off, crawling into bed beside you. “I thought she was going to kill me.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You placed the glass down on the bedside table, laying back against the pillows. Elvis moved to lay on his side, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Now they’ll be gunnin’ for us to get engaged. I’ll never hear the end of it at home.” Your mother was already quite the nag. She’d be relentless when you got home tomorrow. “Give me a month.” He mumbled sleepily, moving to lace his fingers with yours. You closed your eyes tightly, your cheeks flushing all over again. “A whole month? Really?” You teased quietly. He chuckled softly, placing a warm kiss against your shoulder before he fully settled into the mattress.
 “Fine. A week.” And it didn’t sound like he was joking, either. 
want to continue reading this story? check out part two.
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scruus · 10 months
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★̶̲ [ 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ]
✎ sub al haitham + dom amab gn reader notes: praise, a bit of dirty talk, reader is called ‘mama’, masturbation, dildo riding; this could have been better but i guess my nsfw button was a bit tired.
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Al haitham was always a good boy. An obedient pup who never ever dares to break your rules. It made him so lovable and so pure. The dedication, discipline and love he had for you made him the world’s best boy.
And he swelled in that praise with pride.
So here he is now, softly stroking his hard cock for you all the while bouncing up and down on his favourite dildo. The blush crawling up to his neck and cheeks since its such an embarrassing act, but he did love putting on a show for you.
He flutters his lashes up and looks at you, lips parted. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, noting every small change in his expression while arousal pools in your stomach. And he knows it.
You take in the view. Unravelling every inch of his body. Every little tremble, every small throb, and every hushed moan from his lovely lips. It was sickeningly sweet.
Your lover on the floor, getting his sweet hole stretched out by a thick dildo (smaller than yours though) and his own hard dick throbbing in his hands while he looks at you with hearts in his eyes. It was such a lewd sight and you were gulping it down.
His other hand moves up and down his body, sliding through his abs and chest, brushing his nipples as he breathes a shaky moan. You grin, he is trying to replicate the way you touch him. The way you kiss and caress his body like he is a fragile glass piece.
“Mama a-am i doing well?”, he whines, his glazed eyes staring at you. He wants to hear your voice.
Just say anything.
Even a hum. He just needs to get your approval so bad.
“Yes…my baby is doing perfect”, you hiss, trying to suppress the heat in your pants as you place your one leg over the other. Your chin resting in your palm.
He whines in response, nodding slowly. I am being good, he smiles to himself. His chest heaves up and down and his throat swallows dryly. His chest feels tingly.
“Does it feel good haitham? Getting fucked while i watch you”, you hum, lips twisting in a curve. His eyes widen before biting his bottom lip and mumbling a tiny yesss~. Jolts of sparkle going up and down his body.
“Louder baby”, you command and his body jerks. Hands shivering around his shaft while more fluids spill out. “Yes oh god!”, a needy groan from him and your eyes twinkle.
You have such strong control over him, it’s astonishing. His body responds to each one of your orders, as if you own him inside out. And it feels so fucking good. This high of being your one and only. Your good baby boy. Your beautiful slut. His mind and body, all owned by you.
“Baby, do you wish that cock was me?”, you whisper softly. It was clear that the erotic sight of your lover pleasing himself in front of you was making you feel something different. It was the way your voice was in a lower and more sultry tone than usual. It was the kind of good that made you wanna ravish him till he would remember nothing but your name.
Haitham tilts his head back as he moans in response to your words. More drops of pearly precum spilling out of his pink head. His hole tightening around the silicone dick and his movements pick up pace.
“Tell me….you want my dick in you baby?”, haitham’s raspy whines increase in pitch as he bobs his head up and down, uttering curses and chains of ‘yesyesyesyesyes’.
The memory of your cock stretching his hole out runs past his brain. The way his insides would flutter when you bounced him up and down on your huge dick and then fill him up to the brim like a filthy cumslut. It felt so fucking good.
“You want mama’s fat cock inside your ass?”
haitham’s purrs your name, nodding and riding the dildo with a fervour, thinking its you but he knows it doesn’t feel that way. The way you just pop inside him like a missing piece, it was so pleasing. It was an instinct now.
But this dildo is sad and pathetic. It doesn’t feel full. It doesn’t feel addictive. It doesn’t feel you!
He just cant help it, you are inches away from him yet he cant ride that fucking thick dick of yours like some good whore because you haven’t allowed him. And so, he just chokes a sob and nods to your questions.
His aching cock was spilling like anything with the way it was a raging red and twitching in his calloused hands. Ridges covering all around as his rough palm slides over them, pacing up and down. “You wanna cum love?”, you asked, mockingly.
“please please please!”, his previously hushed mumbles are now loud and broken. Tears streaming down his face which he failed to hold back, his breathing picking up, so hungry and so needy for a release.
You inch forward, your face leaning down to his, just enough to feel your breathe on his face but deliberately far so that you won’t lay your lips anywhere. His hooded eyes stare at you, waiting and being patient. Brows furrowed and pink lips covered in drool.
“then cum”, you whisper.
His other hand claws at your shirt as he shrieks out a loud, drawn out moan. Eyes squeezing shut and hips rutting faster trying to chase the release from both sides. And he is trembling like a leaf. Spurts of cum staining his beautiful olive body and your shoes.
His ragged breaths and whiny groans make you smile as you press a kiss on his wet lips, which were bruised because of the way he was biting them before. He looks up at you, doe eyed, and then lowers his gaze down to your crotch.
Gulping on noticing the very visible bulge. You laugh, “now its my time to feel good”, as you plopped him off the dildo and placed him on your lap, ignoring the sudden whimper that escaped his mouth upon feeling the emptiness in his hole.
But he doesn’t have to worry. Something much better is going to be buried inside his wet hole now.
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sillyblues · 10 months
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‘pecador.’
synopsis— you bring the sinner out of miguel o’hara
cw— religious themes, blood, mild nsfw, 18+
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“En el nombre del Padre,”
Miguel O’Hara was a sinner. Violence has always resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins. It was evidently clear to him and everyone, even back then when he was younger. He could barely remember his first memories of joy with his mother nor a play with his brother, but he could remember vividly when he threw a punch at somebody who told him that he and his mother and brother were dirty.
And ever since then, he has not learned of a moment filled with peace. His father berated him and punched him as well because how dare he hurt the son of his boss. Because of it, his father had been fired, and they had no money anymore. But Miguel didn’t care. How could he when that little shit insulted his mother in front of him? He let his father vent his anger and frustrations on him. 
“Y del Hijo,”
But a mother’s love was great, and his own mother couldn’t bear to see her son getting hurt, so she tried to stop him. She took her in his arms and protected him from his father. But she shouldn’t have done that. He wished his mother stayed put in place and come to him when his father was done with him. But she didn’t because her love for him was great.
His father grew furious at the sight of his wife hiding his son away from him and in wrath, he hurt Miguel’s mother as well. The slaps and the punches and the hair pulls were thrown at his mother and he knew it was painful. He tried to pull away from her as his eyes were wide and tears streamed down. He begged his father to stop and asked him to forgive him, he sobbed as he said to him to hurt him instead, just not his mom. But despite it all, his father turned a deaf ear to his pleads and his mother’s embrace was tight just so he would not get hurt.
“Y del Espíritu Santo,”
His father’s anger was a large fire that evaporated away his family’s water of tears but Miguel’s resentment was a burning fiery hell only reserved for his father. His rage was molten and flowed through like lava and it pulsed within his heart and consumed his rationality. His fury blinded him and he didn’t know what he had done until he regained his vision momentarily back to see his mother crying.
“Miguel, escúchame,” his mother whispered to him with a tremble as she took the bloodied knife that he didn’t know he was holding from his arms. He looked at his hands soaked in red and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“My baby boy, thank you for protecting Mama,” she hugged him and rocked him back and forth as she sobbed. Like instinct, he hugged her back weakly. “I love you so much, I want you to know that.”
“Be strong for me and for your little brother, okay? He has no one but you. Take care of him and yourself, alright?” her soft voice was full of sadness and he desperately wanted to look up to her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he also loved her very much and he will but like a lullaby, her voice sent a wave of sleepiness and his vision darkened.
But he couldn’t help it and then, he fainted. When he woke up in a hospital room with his little brother, Gabriel, snuggled beside him, nurses and the police greeted him. There, he knew his mother killed herself.
“Amen.”
He took his mother’s words to his heart and swore that he would protect his brother. He did not let anyone take him or his brother or relied on adults because he trusted nobody. He appealed to the court at 16 years old that he could take care of himself and his brother. Fortunately, he was approved and he took multiple jobs to sustain their needs. He didn’t go to school, no, he didn’t have any time but he made sure that Gabriel did. He worked tirelessly sleeping barely 5 hours a day just to bring food to the table and have a roof over their heads. But despite his busy schedule, he made sure to be there on Gabriel's important days.
Years went by and they had formed a mundane lifestyle. And he tried so hard to keep it that way. But violence resided in his soul and the sinner in him was rekindled once more when his brother was found dead one early morning. He received a call when he was about to go to work and rushed to the crime scene when he heard the news. When he saw Gabriel’s lifeless body and the blood that pooled around him, the remaining hope in his heart was crushed and rage once more visited him and burned fiercely. The police ruled it as suicide as he was found in an alleyway in between buildings. But Miguel knew that it wasn't because of his brother who was so happy and talked his ear off about graduating and becoming a billionaire so he could support him and would never give up on life like that.
“Padre nuestro,”
Miguel decided to join the underworld where mafias and gangs ran about. He took jobs there not only for quick cash but to form connections and information. He investigated more about his brother's death and found out that he was bullied for a long time by a group of kids his age. Apparently, they picked on him because he was sorry for being dirty and a son of a filthy murderer. There was evidence on the autopsy that was not reported that he was burned, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. A camera evidence that was also not submitted and was deleted (but luckily saved by the corrupt authorities who tried to keep it as a blackmail opportunity) showed that they pushed Gabriel to his death and they all laughed about it. Not only that but he wasn't their only victim.
Miguel felt so angry at himself and guilty that he didn't know that behind his brother's insistence on being covered up from head to toe, lies numerous wounds. Knowing him, he probably didn't tell him so he wouldn't worry about him. He wished he did. He wished Gabriel was a little more selfish and made him worry about him instead because he would protect him better.
With this, he took his time to learn more about the arrogant pricks that murdered his brother. He moved to a different city, to Nueva York, so that he had an alibi. He stalked the conceited brats who did the same to numerous people and their rich parents who didn’t give a shit whether their children murdered someone. He learned their routine. Their schedule. And when the time was right, he put a bullet through their heads one by one when they least expected it. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come on man, I’m sorry,” they begged with tears and snot dripping, crawling backwards under his shadow. “Don’t kill me, please, I’ll give you anything.”
“Money? Do you want money? I’ll give you hundreds and thousands,” they always said the same thing, thinking that money was enough for him to forgive the suffering they had caused to his remaining family that they took away, the bruises and cuts on his brother’s body, the damage they had done on him mentally. “No? Half a billion? No, no! One billion!”
His jaw clenched. Pathetic pigs. He cocked and aimed it at them.
“No, no, no! NO—!” they stuttered and screamed but were cut off by the sound of a bullet fired by a gun with a muffler.
He wondered if they at least felt some remorse or at the very least thought about how Gabriel or the other kids they tortured and killed felt as they begged them to not hurt them. But he knew people like them, he had seen them countless times including his very own father. People like them didn’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. These kids were just the same as them.
He made sure to clean up his tracks, deleted potential shreds of evidence, and made some story that would make their case solved and closed easily. He left the city swiftly and came back to his new home. With this, he tried to leave his old past behind and began his life anew.
“Que estás en el cielo.”
Miguel hated himself. He hated the fact that he killed his father which resulted in the death of his mother so that nobody will know that he killed him. He hated the fact that he was so ignorant of his brother's suffering that he had to be pushed to his death for him to realize that his brother was in pain. He hated the monster he turned out to be, always out for blood and killing people like it was nothing.
The sea of guilt and remorse suffocated him and he drowned himself in alcohol and women. The money he saved up which was supposed to be for Gabriel’s graduation gift was used on his vices. 
Day and night, his sins weighed heavy on his mind and not once, was he given at least a moment of peace.
“Santificado sea tu nombre.”
A knock snapped Miguel out of a trance as he smoked out of the window of his apartment. The wispy grey stench wafted in the air as he raised an eyebrow, wondering without much interest who could be knocking on his door. It couldn’t be the landlord as he just paid his month’s due. His past flings? Probably.
Knock. Knock.
He took another drag and inhaled as much as he could before he exhaled and extinguished it on the ashtray full of ashes and butts of leftover cigarettes.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”
He opened the door and found nobody, but a baby in a basket with a letter sticking out of the blankets wrapped around it. The sight of the baby filled him with anxiety and dread. He looked sideways, hoping to at least find who put the baby on his door but only the sight of closed doors greeted him. He had an inch of what was happening and he did not like it one bit. 
With a shaky sigh, he took the baby and cradled it in his arms. God, he didn’t even know its gender. But the sight of him made the baby giggle and coo at him and he bit his lip. Fuck. He opened the letter with his other hand and the words written on it confirmed his suspicions.
“It’s your baby, Miguel. You were the last one I hooked up with before I found out I was pregnant and even then, it was too late. She was too grown and I cannot abort her anymore. I don’t have any papers of her because I have no money and I can’t raise her.”
Miguel could feel a migraine forming and he rubbed his forehead. The baby must have found his distress amusing because it giggled once more and tried to grab his fingers. 
No. She. Not it. 
Fuck.
Miguel wasn’t ready to be a dad, he doesn’t even think he was suited to be one because he was a piece of shit but he took another look at her that was so snug and comfortable in his arms as she looked at him with wonder, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try to take care after her.
“Venga tu reino.”
A few years passed by and Miguel accepted his role as a father. He named the baby Gabriella after his late brother. He got into therapy and went back to work so he could raise her with no financial problems and so that he wouldn’t be a bad father to her. Gabriella was a handful child. He slept countless sleepless nights, often waking up early in the morning because she was crying. Sometimes it was because she was hungry, sometimes she just needed help to digest the milk, and sometimes there wasn’t any particular reason for her cries. But still, he cradled her in his embrace and sang lullabies to her softly.
It felt like it was just yesterday Miguel opened the door and found her on his doorstep. Gabriella has grown into a bright young child. She took after his looks as she inherited almost all of her genes from him. 
Oh, she was so lovely. She was the best of him, better than him and Miguel liked that because she deserved better. She made him believe that he wasn’t the worst piece of trash and that he wasn’t useless. She made him feel loved and he made sure she felt loved as well.
She was very much into soccer and he was so proud of her. He attended all of her games without a miss, winner or not. He was there with her by her side, teaching her how to be kind enough to not hurt anybody and allow herself to be hurt. He taught her to be emotional yet to also remain logical. He taught her to tell him anything yet also let her remain her own privacy.
Miguel loved her very much and she loved him very much as well. 
“Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.”
But he was a sinner and there will be time that his sins would catch up to him. He understood this one day when he got home one afternoon as he got home after work and was greeted by his child, his precious baby, his Gabriella’s lifeless body in her blood.
The tears came fast and thick. He immediately cradled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. He begged her to wake up, to open her eyes for Papa. To surprise him that this was just a prank. Or a dream. Anything.
Please, wake up. You can’t die yet. I haven’t lived the rest of my life with you yet. I haven’t seen you on your quinceañera yet or your graduation or the first time you get a job. I haven’t seen you get married or surprise me with grandchildren. 
I haven’t seen you live your life yet.
Please. Don’t do this to me.
“Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.”
Violence has always resided in his soul and with his daughter’s death, he committed his one last vengeance. He visited his old life once more. He got back with his connections and his trusted friends gave him whatever he needed in exchange for nothing and as their condolences.
The killers of his daughter were related to his previous crimes. They were related to the families of the people he killed and they decided to kill his daughter as their revenge.
And in return, hunted them all down. He hunted all families down and despite all the scars, all the sharp cuts, all the black and blue bruises, and all the bullets that pierced him, he never gave up and killed them all. Multiple mafia familias were down and he made sure that they couldn’t even think of getting revenge and that all they could do was bow before him.
“Hahaha, you son a bitch,” one cackled as he spat on him, “you deserve it all.”
“You heartless bitch, you’re the reason why all your family’s dead. Fucking cunt, you think you can revive them? Dream on.” he babbled his useless mouth on and wheezed.
“I know.” How could Miguel not know? For not one second that had gone by, he could never ever forget how he killed his family.
“Your death will not bring my family alive but it will make sure that any other families won’t be killed.” And with that, he pulled the trigger and let the loud sound of the gun resonate through the room. His head spat out red and some solids of his brain decorated the wall behind him. His blood dripped down and it joined the pool of the blood of the other corpses that lay dead in the room. The rays of the rising sun shone through the window and it gleamed on the pool of red. Silence filled the room and only the sound of his breaths remained.
Miguel’s eyes gave up suddenly and he fell to the ground on his knees with a harsh thud. With a tear, his shoulders loosened.
Finally. It’s over. Everything’s over.
Miguel should be glad that all of his enemies were gone and nobody would even dare to hurt him anymore but what does it all matter when everyone he held dear was gone?
“Perdona nuestras ofensas,”
Due to the rules of the underworld, the top dogs with Miguel O’Hara leading, their identities would be hidden and they would not be allowed to surrender themselves to the government as it could overthrow the black society altogether. Partly because of this, he turned to God and moved to a quaint town. He became a priest with the sole purpose of repentance and earning forgiveness for his sins. He didn't know if he was asking God to forgive him or his family who died because of him to forgive his carelessness in protecting them.
It was ironic really because he never really believed in God despite the nightly mass he, his brother, and his mother used to have. The words he uttered were redundant, merely sounds he couldn't understand nor tried to. When his mother died, he and Gabriel did the nightly mass in honour of their late mother. And when he died, he could only attend Sunday mass in the church with Gabriella because of the ache of missing his mother and brother yet still continue the tradition of being faithful to God. He wanted her to grow up good and kind so he taught her the values and morals of being a Catholic despite not fully believing in God.
A hypocrite, that's what he was and usually thought about as he led the mass during his schedule.
And he still was when a quiet mysterious woman moved into town. 
You.
“Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.”
You appeared so suddenly out of nowhere in this town. He lived in the Church but in such a small town, words tend to spread easily. In just two days of your arrival, he already heard of a young woman who had just moved in. 
Miguel was a bit wary as this town barely had any people. Most residents were grandparents or older parents who were already retired and their children who left to move to the cities for bigger opportunities and education. He didn't know what you were thinking about coming here. Were you sent here by the underworld? No, it can't be. He was protected by his friends who ruled the underworld now. Did you have a past like him? Were you running away from something? He sighed as he shook his head. Then again, it was none of his business and it was most definitely not his right to pry.
The next Sunday was the first time he saw you. You sat there at the back, ushered by your neighbours, he presumed. In rows of people, you stood out so brightly. Your back was straight, there was elegance so blatant despite the plain clothes you wore. He met your gaze one too many times and noticed the way you hung onto every word he uttered.
And when the mass had ended he stayed around longer this time and talked with the locals a bit more. And without a doubt, your new friend introduced him to you.
“Oh good morning, Father O’Hara! Wonderful mass, by the way, I loved the homily, well, as usual, it really reflected my situation now with my son in college. Do you still remember?” Mrs. Lorraine greeted him with a handshake.
“Oh for God’s sake, Lorraine, yes Father still remembers that and I’m sure he appreciated that you love it. Don’t forget you’re here to introduce [Name] to him.” Mrs. Eleanor said, cutting Miguel off before he could even reply.
“Oh! Dear me, why yes,” with widened eyes, she laughed, “Yes, forgive me.”
“Father, this is [Name]. They just moved in here and I invited them to join the church.” she moved her body to show your figure and Miguel finally had a close look upon you. Your eyes stared at him and for a second, he felt like there were just the two of you. You looked at him with wonder and curiosity and Dios mío, you looked so innocent and he was reminded of the darkness that exists from within him. He felt like one touch and he could corrupt you easily. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, desperately hiding any tremor in his composure.
“[Name], this is Father Miguel O’Hara. He moved into this town a little while ago and clearly, one of our only priests.”
“Oh, good morning, Father Miguel.” Christ, your voice was soft as a wind that tickled his heart. You held out your hand to him. “It's nice to meet you.”
“Good morning.” He nodded stiffly. He took your hand and shook it.
Even your palm was smooth and he forced the thought down to hold your hand longer.
“No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.”
You were kind. Endlessly so. You sponsored this town’s community event alongside donations to the church anonymously but everybody knew it was you. Everyone just decided to keep their silence to respect your decision in keeping your identity. 
You preferred to listen to others and learn more about them rather than talk about yourself. You always asked how everyone was doing and gave them gifts under the excuse of it being old despite it polished brand new. Whenever children or the grandchildren of the locals visited, you always stopped by their house and gave them little gifts as well.
Miguel had seen you interact with children multiple times whenever he was doing groceries and pass by at yours, he saw you giggling along with the children. He saw you reading books to them under the shade of a tree and rays of sunlight would gently decorate your faces and the winds would play with your hair. He saw you happy and the children happy with you as well.
And his heart throbbed at the sight of you each time but he swallowed the feelings forcibly down as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“Amén.”
He hated you.
He hated the way you invoke feelings in him. He hated the way you tempt him unknowingly and he cannot blame you to take any responsibility for the way you make him feel. He hated the way you make him want to sin again, to unleash the beast inside him he had caged for so long but for another different reasons entirely which was you.
He was a priest, someone who he tried so hard not to sin but you make him falter in his beliefs so effortlessly.
So he hid himself who had become a sinner once more just at the thoughts of you.
“En el nombre del Padre,”
But he was so weak for you.
After a mass one sunday morning, you asked him if you could have a talk with him just the two of you and somewhere private. Miguel knew he should have said no. He should have turned you away and pretend he has not been watching you from afar and from the corner of his eye. But he was weak for you and before he knew it, he let you in on his office room.
“Father Miguel, why are you ignoring me?” you asked so suddenly and he knew it was coming. He has turned away from you, pretending he doesn’t see you coming and would walk the other way. But he was still caught off guard. You leaned closer to him he could smell your delicious scent. He leaned away because his patience with you was just so little he might lose his hard-earned control.
“Pardon me, but you’re getting too close.” He said with gritted teeth and tight fists. You looked hurt at that. With widened eyes that were soon filled with dejection, you slowly rubbed your arm. Guilt flooded his being and as much as he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t. Any second with you drove him insane and he could only take so much of this. He didn’t want to lose his reason, his morals, his values as a Priest. He couldn’t bear to. But any more second with you, he just might lose it all for you. You bit your lip.
“Why do you hate me so much?” you whispered with small tears welling up your eyes and Miguel hated himself more. There was nothing more he wanted to do at the moment than to hold you and wipe your tears away himself. But he can’t. It’s wrong. Priests don’t get close like that to their fellow believers. 
“I don’t hate you—” he sighed as he looked away but you cut him off.
“Then why do you look away from me? Am I so undeserving for you to not look me in the eye? Am I so disgusting for you to get close to me? Am I so inadequate and worthless for you to treat me like you treat others?” you said harshly at him while tears slipped your eyes. You took a step at him with every word you said and he took a step back in every step you took until his back was pushed to the wall behind him. “So do not tell me that you don’t hate me when all you did made me feel like you despised my entire being.”
For fuck’s sake.
He grabbed your arm and turned your body, switching positions with his. He made sure to cover the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the wall too hard and he growled under his breath.
“I do not hate you.” he said with gritted teeth. “I want you.”
Your eyes widened at that.
“What?” you confusingly and breathlessly asked.
“Every time I see you, there is nothing more than I want than to be with you. I look at your pretty face and I want to kiss you so bad. I look at your nice figure and I want to hold and caress you. I want you.” he panted silently, the words he never dared to even utter to himself outloud was finally out of his chest. And now that they were free, he looked at your eyes to see how would you react. Would you push him away and slap his face? Would you be disgusted with him you’d never want to see him anymore?
He would understand but he didn’t know if he could bear with your hatred.
“Then take me.” your hand encircled his neck and the other gently stroked his cheek.
No.
“I’m right here.”
I can’t.
“Show me you don’t truly hate me.”
It’s wrong.
“Show me how much you want me.”
In an instant, he captured his lips with yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. At the touch of your lips, the hidden lust for you blossomed. He pressed his face to yours and yours closer to his deeper, his kiss burning so passionately and fiercely. You opened your mouth with a moan and he invited his tongue in, and he nearly groaned at your fragrance hynotizing him and your sweet taste that ignited a new kind of hunger for him. His tongue swriled with yours and together, they danced a dance that left him breathless.
He pulled away slightly and a web of both of your saliva disappeared. He stared at you as you panted. You looked at him pleadingly and your stare sent a rush of blood down in his pants. He wanted more and he knew you wanted the same.
And with that, he plunged to the roaring sea and its waging waves of lust.
“Y del Hijo,”
For you, he threw his title as a Priest and became just Miguel.
All for you, he returned to his origins and became a sinner once more.
“Y del Espíritu Santo,”
Each day and night, you invited him into your temple and he worshipped you. What once was just thoughts that tortured him became reality that gave him a glimpse of heaven. Your aroma engulfed him and filled his never-ending greed of you and your flavor satiated his endless glutton for you.
“Amen.”
As he finished his prayer, he stood up from kneeling and bowed to the Cross of the Lord. He fixed his clothes and the sounds of his footsteps against the tiles of the Church rang as he left with thoughts of you.
He wanted to hear your melody that was akin to the trumpets of the angels again. He wanted your soft and supple skin to be against his dark and rough ones. He wanted to be pressed under you with your legs on the either side of his head and your juices spill in his mouth. He wanted your warm cavern envoloped around him and to feel you come undone by him.
With a silent chuckle, he thought about how he tried so hard to not corrupt you by with his wicked thoughts only to be corrupted by you instead.
For Miguel O’Hara was a sinner and no matter how much he tried to change that, he will always be one. Violence has resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins but time changed him and has now become lust that occupied his being along with the infinite greed and glutton that only wanted you.
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m3talmunson · 10 months
Text
Steve Harrington except his mom comes from old money, his father new. So while Steve's mom took his father's last name (reluctantly. She was doing her best to promise that her son would have a good life ahead of him), she got to choose Steve's first, which just happens not to be Steve.
His name is actually Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, because by God, Maria Harrington would never let her son have an English name since she had to give up her own to promise her son a decent life.
Somewhere along the way she got lost in it all. She chased Mr. Harrington around to make sure he wasn't sleeping with whatever floozie secretary he had at the moment, and in doing so she forgot to be a mother - as much as somebody can just forget that duty.
So, one day Esteban got dropped off at his grandpa's house and became Steve. Then one day Steve's grandfather died and Steve didn't even see his father at the funeral. His father, the dead man's son, sent Maria with flowers to the funeral. Flowers she didn't have a destination for. So, the moment it was over she dragged Steve and the flowers back to the dust-covered Harrington home. She makes some dinner and has a nice night with her son, but as they curl up on the couch and try to settle for the night, she brings him up.
"Mijo, your father. I have to go back to him tomorrow. I have a plane ride in the morning. I have to go sweetheart." She blinks back the tears in her eyes as she delivers the news.
"It's ok mama! I'm 10 now, double digits." He holds out both of his hands, all of his fingers splayed out. "I can take care of things here." He put on his best brave face, something Grandpa Harrington taught him.
"Grandma is going to visit you as much as she can, but she doesn't live near here. You'll be on your own a lot, my sweet sweet boy." She let the tears run at this point, ignoring the musical she had put on the TV to occupy their thoughts.
"Don't cry mama," He curled up into her side. "Wait, Grandma? But she's been gone for longer than Grandpa?"
"No, no, my mama. She'll be up here every so often for you. My brave boy." She kissed the top of Steve's head, peppered a few more against Steve's complaints of tickling.
"Come on mama, Dolly's singing!" He said, and drew his attention back to the TV like it was nothing. They fell asleep on the couch that night. Mr. Harrington never would have approved, but maybe he just didn't need to know.
And that began the life of Steve being alone. At least, most of the time. His grandma did come up every so often. She taught him how to cook, clean, where the stools were, and which ones were tall enough for him to reach the cookie jar. The same cookie jar that stayed in place just incase his parents did come home and happen to give half a shit about it.
When she couldn't be there, over the phone, she taught her little Esteban Spanish. His father never allowed it in the house, but the moment she insisted she be called Abuelita and not Grandma, she piqued Esteban's interest.
He was interested until he got made fun of for the accent. He continued to learn it, but insisted that he be called Steve, the same way she insisted he call her something else. That set the record straight for him.
During high school, she got too frail for him to visit. The Harrington's put money in the bank for Steve, so he began to visit her. He'd fly down to where she was staying, drive once he could. Steve got his license the very first day he could, just to visit her. He planned her funeral when the day came, just a month before Will Byers went missing. That kept him in contact with quite a few of his cousins that way, checked in on everyone and made the rounds while he tried to remain a normal teenager, have a normal girlfriend, live as King Steve, or Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Anything that kept his life nice and neatly in place.
Then, a stupid nail bat was his lifeline. Screw normal, he couldn't trust anyone or anything anymore. Two years later, he got tortured by Russians and then, maybe he could trust someone.
Somewhere between his fall from grace and saving the world for good, he grew to trust a lot of people. Grew to have people at his house all the time, filling that god awful empty house.
He had Eddie over one night when he got a call from his cousin Mariana, she had just finished her freshman year of college in the US, so her English was getting pretty good, but she greeted him in Spanish so he can only return the favor. Steve guessed it was only a matter of time until Eddie and the others found out about him anyways.
So, he responded to Mariana. He had an entire conversation with her, back to the couch that Eddie was sat on. Last he knew Eddie was flipping through movies, but all the noises stopped. At least Steve could assume that maybe he just picked a movie, and maybe get hurt or yelled at or something after the call. He just had to get through this conversation with Mariana.
He heard the crash of tapes falling and had to end it.
"Sorry Mari, I've got to go." He said abruptly in English, and tried his hardest not to slam the phone back into the receiver.
When he turned around, he didn't expect what he saw. Sure, Eddie's jaw was basically on the floor, but he didn't seem angry, not like Steve had expected.
"You- you speak Spanish, Stevie?" Eddie had almost a shocked rasp to his voice, clutching onto the tape in his hand, the one that managed to not fall.
"Yeah, have for about 8 or 9 years now."
"You, Steve Harrington, are fluent in Spanish?"
"Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, actually. And yeah, my mom is Mexican."
"Est- Esteban???" Eddie laughed out. "Good God Stevie-"
"I know, I know, I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hide it, I just- it's hard walking around Hawkins with a Spanish accent, it's just so-" He interrupted Eddie.
"Steve, Stevie, no." It was Eddie's turn to interrupt. "I'm not mad at you sweetheart. Definitely not mad." Eddie hinted at something else.
"You're not mad? What- I-" Steve raised his eyebrow. "What's that look about then?"
Eddie had been out to Steve for a while, and vice-versa. They hadn't exactly not been flirting, so Eddie didn't feel too crazy saying this next part.
"If I'm being so honest, Stevie," Eddie stepped closer into Steve's personal space, "I wouldn't say completely platonic feelings."
"Oh, that's what does it for you, Munson? Really?" Steve teased. Back with the bravado charm.
"I dunno... want to say some more?"
And, of course, the moment he hears it again -the accent Steve's voice works itself into- he's basically frothing at the mouth. He drops the tape he was holding and swings his arms around Steve's neck, only a little awkward considering the lack of height difference.
"I guess it is, Esteban."
"You don't even know what I said!" Steve pretended to act shocked, or pissed or something, but he really didn't care.
"Tell me later," Eddie cut Steve off with a swift kiss, and maybe Steve would settle for later.
Maybe he'd have a lifetime to tell Eddie that all he said was "I really want to kiss you." He had his wish fulfilled anyway.
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