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#she hasn't once been Actually Fucking Involved with me for the last seven years sorry i grew up without you and came out shit at this stuff
lilililililah · 3 years
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Me: doesn't learn work ethic as a child due to my gift at reading and math, one of which fades over time
My mother: expects me to learn how to A. Have a work ethic. B. Do chores. C. Attempt to do Stuff. When she has never once attempted to teach me, despite my pleading since the age of nine. Does not check the semester grades, of which she has access to, to keep me on track. Doesn't go to my parent teacher conferences. Refuses all plans I attempt to make to address my lack of work ethic and low understanding of subjects like chemistry and math.
Me, now a highschooler doing my best to build up a work ethic unguided: *failing chemistry and math, doing my best to work my grades back up unguided*
My mother, who has not checked in with me for the past six months: fuck u I'm holding you back a grade
I am just. Bitch. You can't threaten me any more, I caught onto your manipulation three years ago. Damn whore it isn't like I'm doing my best here trying to find a path in Life with an emotionally and mentally abusive/negligent mother fucking hell
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❛ ROJO ❜
Songfic with ‘Rojo’, J Balvin.
Translation of the lyrics.
with Nestor Oceteva.
Request #1: Can you maybe do a Nestor imagine where you're Emily's cousin or half sister and you're living with Emily and Miguel temporarily. You've been flirting and teasing him and it finally comes to a head. Smut involved please?
BY ANON.
Request #2: hi hi! I have a steamy request~! (If it's not a bother, of course) Nestor + reader are at a club and they keep teasing him,, maybe you can include lines like “shit, mami, you made a mess” and “you just want the others to hear me fuck you, huh?” 😗👉🏼👈🏼 thank youuu c:
BY @glitchinqhoul.
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Warnings: nsfw, smut.
Word count: about 3.6k
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: to the author, I found it on google.
Masterlist.
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A quién le mientes si en tu soledad quieres verme otra vez. Por ti respondo lo que tú me das, lo que nadie sabe…
Being Emily's half—sister hasn't been easy. She was a good student, the modelic daughter, always being kind, correct and polite. You used to be like the day and the night. But you supposed that this has to be with the fact that your blood isn't the same. She's american, and you're half—mexican. Different cultures, different cities, different people… Different lifes. But that wasn't a problem to adore each other. Emily and you have been best friends since ever, and even if you're the wild side she doesn't have, you admire her temperance.
When your college in Mexico told you that you could do the MIR at Santo Padre, you both were screaming by the phone for two minutes non-stop, until you heard Miguel telling you to stay at his home. That wasn't a bad idea, keeping in mind that you also could see Nestor every day, for the next six month. That man drives you insane since you met him, and he isn't very sane either.
You're checking the hour on the clock of your car, almost reaching the border with California, checking again that your passport and your papers signed for the University are on the copilot seat. So, when you stop at the frontier, you just have to roll down the window and offer them to the agent. Once that you're actually in American territory, you speed up by the empty road a little confused from not seeing any cars. Actually, you're just tired after almost two days driving. Because yes, you could have flown to San Diego, and rented a car. But you like your old Mustang. He has been with you since seven years ago. Coming back to reality, you see through the rearview two big black SUVs coming closer until one of them places itself after you, making you a signal to stop.
Stopping by a side, you step out of your car as Emily does, both running to each other to collide in a happy hug, screaming again and almost jumping.
“Look at you, doctora!” She says laughing and holding your hands, pulling herself away some seconds, before hugging at you again. “C'mon, let Frankie drive your car, so you can rest a little in ours”.
To your surprise, Nestor isn't the one who is driving, supposing that he's in the other black car before yours. But you're sure he's as excited as you are, waiting to have five minutes alone.
Me decido por ti, te decides por mí, a la misma hora. Me dan ganas de ti, te dan ganas de mí, a la misma hora.
Miguel has organized a party with his sober friends. And you're not in the mood to partying, but the tequila helps a little. You're jumping from senators and other politicians, to lawyers and other rich men, just because your brother-in-law is proud of you. And that makes you feel good, but it's kinda boring. So, when you find a space to disappear, you do it at the speed of the light. Finding shelter in the big garage between expensive cars of different sizes and kinds. Resting your back against the classic red Porsche, you light up a smoke among your lips to take a deep drag. You appreciate all the love that Mikey feels for you, and all the help he always gives you, but you're not the kind of girl who has these kinds of parties.
Turning around for an instant, when you hear the door getting opened, to watch Nestor walking towards you. Rolling your eyes, you smirk at him.
“Ay, ya, no me digas que te pusieron en modo perrito guardián, flaco”. (C'mon, don't tell me that Miguel made you be a guard dog). You laugh shaking your head.
“Más o menos”. (More or less). He says taking you off the cig to smoke from it.
“Okay, ládrame, ándale”. (Okay, bark at me, go ahead).
“Soy más de morder”. (I'm more into biting).
“Mírale… Isn't too early to start with that game?”
“Nah”. He replies bowing to the floor to leave the cig, before placing both hands on your ankles, pulling up the long white skirt of your dress too slowly.
Your eyes are fixed on his, getting somewhat darker as his fingertips touch slightly your skin, until he's able to settle between your legs, that you have been opening for him unconsciously. Soon, his lips find your neck, twisting it enough to give him all the space possible. Your hands go to his head, uttering a soft moan when he nails his hands on your ass under the dress. This is your game. You have it since you met, and it's one of your favorite things. A tug of war to see who gives more.
“Fuck, Nestor”. You mutter biting your lower lip, at the same time his teeth catch your skin, putting himself somewhat closer.
Te quiero sentir aquí. Me dan ganas de ti, te dan ganas de mí, a la misma hora.
“Hey, teens in heat, we're going to serve the coctel!” You can hear Emily's laughs from the other side of the door, making you feel your cheeks burning.
“We're going!” You reply a little loud, with Nestor chuckling against your neck.
Pulling him away to put on your dress well, you arrange your mane behind your shoulders before starting to walk back to the house. But when you're about to open the door, he grabs your wrist to make you turn around. Crashing your mouth with his, the man kisses you trying to hide how much he has missed you after five month without seeing each other. Even so, it becomes softer, slow, as if you have all the time you need. His arms surrounding your waist, and yours the back of his head. You're sure that he has never kissed you like that, but it feels too good. Nestor's touch has been ever so warm that could melt the coldest heart, actually, more or less like yours.
Tres y cuatro de la mañana, ven, mata estas ganas. Vamos a llegarle a mi cama, que todo lo he ignorado por ti, todo ha sido por ti. Mi cuerpo sin saber te llama.
You like to eat. You enjoy eating, and that coctel wasn't enough for you. So, waiting by reading some emails until the family is already sleeping, you step out of your new room silent like a cat. Going downstairs, you walk towards the kitchen to assault the freezer.
“Bendito Miguel”.
You whisper finding all the chocolate ice cream he has bought for you. Grabbing one of the tubs and a big spoon, you sit at the island in the center of the kitchen, with the lights off. And you were so concentrated on your task, that you didn't hear Nestor coming. Not even noticing his presence until he nails a second spoon into the tub.
“Shit! Nestor! Fuck… You're gonna fucking kill me one of these days”. You mutter, placing both hands on your chest, with the covered inside your mouth.
The man chuckles almost in silence, having some ice cream.
“Seriously, you need to stop of being this fucking silent”.
“Yeah, I know you like me being loud”.
Raising your eyebrows, you finally shake your head before such an occurrence.
“What about the kiss?”
“What kiss?” He asks a little confused. “Oh! Ya. What happens with that? It was just a kiss?”
“Yes, for sure”.
“I was just happy for you being here. We're friends, it's been five month since we met last time”.
Right in the friend-with-benefits zone, while you were thinking that finally he was catching the same feelings you have for him.
“Cool”.
“Cool?”
“What?”
“It sounded as if I just stabbed you”.
“Why would my friend like to stab me?”
Y estas no son horas de llamar, pero es que el deseo siempre puede más. Podemos pelearnos y hasta alejarnos, pero cuando llega la hora.
You didn't know that Miguel was a friend of the director of the hospital you're going to work at. And he settled a dinner to meet him. Another boring one, and you start to think that your brother-in-law wants to kill you and doesn't know how to do it. You love your work and what you do, but the work stays in the hospital, and you were too distracted about Nestor's words last night. You have been avoiding him the whole day, not even looking at him in the dinner, placed some meters away from the table studying the perimeter. And you know that he's getting more nervous as the hours pass by.
After finishing the meeting, you finally can breathe again inside the big car, checking some messages from your father asking how everything is going. You better don't reply. Keeping it inside your small bag, before leaning towards the front seat with both arms on them.
“Hey, Cartel daddy”.
Your sister breaks into laughs because of the sophisticated name, while Miguel turns at you frowning.
“Listen. Why don't I pull out the stick inside your ass and we go to a real party, ah? There's a new club some minutes ago from Santo Padre, and looks cool”.
“Did you ca—”.
“Hey, Pocahontas, that's the address”. You say to Nestor, offering him your phone to grab it.
Emily is drowning with her own laughs by your side, making you laugh too, when she remembers that you're not allowed to drink red wine because of this. You have the mania of giving funny names to everybody around you.
“What? Cartel daddy and Pocahontas. Sounds like a bad netflix tv-show I would watch”.
Tratan y se caen de la mata, quieren comprarte siempre con plata, pero ese tesoro tiene pirata. Me voy a toda por ti.
While the men prefer a reserved, watching the whole dancefloor from there, and talking about business and appointments, Emily and you enjoy a bunch of mimosas among the crowd jumping and having fun. You really needed it. And you're aware that she already knows that something is happening between the head security and you. Something bad. She doesn't have to be the most intelligent person of the world.
“I would tell him what I feel!” Your sister says, trying to make you hear her above the noise.
“He kicked my ass to the friend zone last night!” The blonde wrinkles her nose confused, seeing you nodding and drinking by your straw.
“Are you kidding me?! He was super excited to see you again! Like super excited!”
“Yeah! He kissed me! But he kissed me like Miguel kisses you! Then he told me it was just a kiss!”
“He's in love with you!”
“No, sista! He's only in love with your husband and with himself!”
“Tell him you don't want to be just his friend!”
“Me?! Oh, no, darling! I'm not gonna humiliate myself like that!”
“C'mon! You fucking pendejos!” She pouts at you.
“You just want Nestor to have a girlfriend, so you can spend more time with your husband! Bitch, I know you better than anyone!”
“I want my little sister to be happy!”
“You want your Cartel daddy!” Breaking into laughs, you place an arm on her shoulders to come back to the reserved.
“What's so funny?” Miguel asks pouring some champagne on two glasses.
“Your wife wants to settle me on a blind date”.
Me decido por ti, te decides por mí, a la misma hora. Me dan ganas de ti, te dan ganas de mí, a la misma hora.
“I'm not going to let you go on a blind date”.
You were refreshing your nape and wrists with water, when you heard him coming closer after locking the bathroom door of the reserved Miguel rented. Looking at him through the mirror, you give him your back to grab some paper and dry your hands. Throwing it into the bin, you turn around to face him.
“Why?”
“It's dangerous”. He just says, tangling his hands on a fist under his abdomen.
“You stabbed me last night, and I survived. I'm pretty sure I will survive to a blind date”. Good point, taking the advantage to pass him away.
But he stops you with an arm surrounding your waist. His chest meeting your back, while his free hand wraps your throat. You're feeling the characteristic heat that Nestor produces in you being so close, running up your legs to your low belly. His thumb caresses your skin, over the jugular vein, leaning towards you to kiss the line of your jaw. Biting your bottom lip, wrapping his wrists letting the free hand goes down by your stomach with a clear destiny.
“We are made for each other”. Nestor mumbles into your ear with a horse tone of voice.
“Yes, to be friends”. You tease him, grabbing his wrist to make him stop, wanting to hear the reality coming from his mouth.
“To be together”. He corrects you then, without a single doubt hitting his vocal chords and turning you under his hands.
Crashing his lips on yours, he makes you walk backwards until your body finds the cold wall. He's as eager as you are, lifting up a leg to surround his waist, while his hand toures your skin until being able to squeeze your ass with a warm growl dying inside his throat.
“I want you in all the ways possible, (Y/N)”. He mutters, trying to hide the anger he feels imagining you with another man. “I want you with me. Only with me”.
Pulling him to the black and golden velvet armchair, you watch him undoing his belt and his pants zipper, noticing the rock under his clothes. Seeing him rolling them down his legs to his ankles, while you take off your dress to leave it over the sink, to sit over his lap with his body between your legs. You haven't taken off the white lace panties, because you know how much he likes the friction of them in every move he does, on a side of his sensible skin. While one of his big hands massage your breast with some strength, the ringed one strokes his needed cock, lying back on the couch.
“Do you wanna fuck me?” You whisper into his mouth, unbuttoning his shirt to stroke his bare chest.
“You don' know how much I need your pussy, cariño”. He just says, looking at you with parted lips grabbing his erection between your fingers.
“I don't think that's enough”. Teasing him, you guide his throbbing and warmth glans to your folds, pressing it against your wet clit and swinging softly your hips.
“I've been waiting five months for you jumping over my cock, mami. You know I am fucking desperate for your soaked pussy suffocating me and pushing me into the limit”. Nestor almost begs, placing his hands on both sides of your waist. “Ride your cock, baby. Look at how hard it's because of you. It fucking painful”.
“And what if I punish you about what you said last night… putting my clothes on again and leaving you there alone, ah?”
“Don't do that shit, (Y/N). I fucking implore you”. He quickly complains pecking your lips with short kisses. “You're already fucking killing me”.
Leading a little back his hardness between your legs, you dig it into you slowly, feeling every inch of his erection pressing your tight walls. He's thicker than you can remember, having passed too much time since the last time, needing some seconds to mold your body to his. A soft moan escapes from your mouths when his glans pushes your g-spot, urging you to spread more your legs forcing you to feel him completely. And you can't describe that sensation.
“Tell me you didn't miss my cock…” He chuckles, erasing that fancy smile from his lips by swinging your hips just one time.
His growl echoes throughout the bathroom, before catching your lips between his to bite them, making you dance on top of him. The pleasure is immeasurable, bouncing over his hard rock once and again. Once and again, arching your back under his arms, while his mouth now devours the skin of your neck, wetting it with his saliva and marking every inch with his teeth. The pace becomes rough and faster, slapping your ass with both hands to squeeze your buttocks so needed that you're desiring to feel his cum filling you up. But you like his cock pounding you.
“I'm going to make the others hear you being fucked by me, mi amor…” He bellows, making you beg when pulling out himself from you to get up.
Guiding you quickly to the sink and giving him your back, placing a hand on your nape, he makes you lean over the sink before putting aside your panties to thrust his soaked cock back to your pussy. The scream you utter when his pelvis hits you so rough, isn't normal. Being sure that your sister and Miguel already heard you. His hands nailed on your hips make each lunge deeper, watching him through the mirror the pleased look on his face, while his gaze is fixed in your. He enjoys seeing you bite your bottom lip and closing your eyes, every time he slaps you with his ringed fingers, knowing that this pleasure it's going to fuck you up tomorrow. But you love the way he has to uninhibit himself, after being the whole day following orders.
“Shit, baby… I want you all my fucking life”. He gasps leaning his head back with closed eyelids, impaling you against the marble counter of the sink.
Maybe you should have taken off the heels to not lose the balance, but you didn't think about it, and now you're fighting against your shaky legs.
“Look how good you take it all… my fucking god, (Y/N). You're fucking drenching me”.
Yes, you can feel it. You can feel your juices and his slipping down your thighs, producing a soaked dirty sound every time his body collides with yours so hard. Urging you to incorporate your chest from the sink with a hand grabbing your throat and the other arm surrounding your waist, Nestor arches your back, placing his face on your shoulder.
“Drown my fucking… dick with your cum, mi amor…” He begs you, biting your love, without removing his darkened orbs from yours, through your reflections.
“Shit, Nestor…” You're not sure when you start to cry because of the pleasure, needing more, needing to reach the orgasm. “Fuck me harder, I fucking beg you… Por favor”.
You can't barely breathe when his finger finds your clit, stroking it with the same pace he's embedding you against the furnishing. Your moans dance all around the bathroom, while he's gasping over your ear how much he wants to fuck you for the rest of his life, everywhere, at anytime you want it. And by crying out his name and clinging to him, a lash of heat evolves you, making your pussy twitch uncontrollably as the tears fall down your cheek. Your palpitating walls clenching his cock, making his vocals get louder as long as he continues diving his warmth hardness into you, closer from his own ecstasy.
You don't need to tell him that you want him to cum inside you, mixing it with yours, because he already has other plans. Pulling himself out and jerking off his dick, he spills his seed over your wet panties, bathing them on it as his throat collapses because of the pleasure. But don't waste time putting them to the side again to pound you again, pressing his body against yours as much as he can, holding your anatomy into his arms.
Te quiero sentir aquí. Me dan ganas de ti, te dan ganas de mí, a la misma hora.
It's four am and you can't sleep thinking about what he said to you. Sighing, you sit up on your bed, curling your knees against your chest and surrounding them with both arms. He already told you that he wants you, but was he talking or his jealousy? You're doubting about going to his house, or texting him, or doing anything. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand and a cig from the packet, you step out of your dorm to walk downstairs towards the terrace. Sitting on one of the sofas outside, you light the smoke to have a drag, unlocking your phone. Your trembling fingers touch the screen over the keyboard; writing and deleting, writing and deleting. But you're unable to send any message. Feeling stupid, you finally write him that you can't sleep, listening the ding of your own notification so close that makes you frown confused.
“Me neither”.
With your lips pursed and a leg curled over the sofa, you turn ashamed towards him. Nestor is wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white big shirt. You're sure that you have never seen him before without wearing a suit. And you are falling loudly for him much more than ever. Putting out the cigarette, you stand up on your feet to lead them towards you.
“Stay with me, at least tonight”. You mutter, tangling your fingers with his.
“But move with me tomorrow”. Nestor asks you then, before hugging you as close as he can.
“Deal”. You reply, placing your chin on his chest to look at him, receiving some short kisses all around your face that make you laugh.
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