#porque no los dos day

[drabbles-mc]

Looking On

A Narcos & Narcos: Mexico Crossover Fic

For @narcosfandomdiscord's "Porque No Los Dos?" Day: create a crossover with the original Narcos and Narcos: Mexico featuring at least one character from each

Warnings: 18+, language, blood/injury, no adherence to canon timelines whatsoever

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a crackfic in the sense that I am just taking elements from both shows and using them how I see fit. They're toys in my sandbox now etcetc. S3 cast of OG Narcos in s2 of NMX? Why not!!!! Also let the record show that this entire fic happened because of one little exchange that happens at the end. So. You know. There's that. 😂

Narcos/NMX Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

He understood why so many people left after Escobar. A lot of people didn’t survive to even have the opportunity. Hell, after Carrillo, once all of it was said and done, Trujillo would’ve been lying if he said that it hadn’t been a fleeting thought through his mind a time or two as well. But underneath it he always knew that he wasn’t going to be walking away. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should’ve taken the win and gotten the hell out. However, he knew himself enough to know that if he did that, part of him would always be wondering what he was even doing any of it for, then. If he left after one big win, or whatever killing Escobar qualified as after all the destruction wrought to get there, what would that say about him? Stopping with no good, clear reason to?

Then he heard that Javi was getting roped back in and that changed the game as well. Carrillo had been his touchstone for so long and he was someone that Trujillo was never going to get back. He knew that. He knew that there was no one that could really fill those shoes. Javi, though, Javi felt like the last remaining piece of that chapter of their lives. Because Steve was gone too, off to somewhere quieter, less gunfire for his wife and daughter—that made sense at least. Javi coming back meant that he wouldn’t feel quite so alone if he stuck around. It never hurt to have someone close by who had a little bit of shared life experience, especially the bloody painful kind they all had in common.

Days ticked by. Javi did come back, but things were different now—he was different now. Trujillo could see it, feel it, but he never said anything about it. There was no point to it. It wasn’t as though Javi was going to spill his thoughts out because Trujillo asked him nicely. But even though things were different, there was still a strange brand of comfort to be had there. Despite the changes there was still an understanding between the two of them. The rules of engagement were different now that there were new players in the game, but each of them knew what the other had in their back pockets if push came to shove.

Which was why Trujillo couldn’t even try to pretend that he wasn’t shocked at Javi’s pitch, the way that the request felt like it was coming seemingly out of left field. “México?” he finally managed to get out.

“It’s not an order,” Javi clarified, knowing that he still didn’t have that kind of pull with the CNP, “but I…” he trailed off for a moment as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “We’re going regardless,” he said with a nod towards the glass walls of his office, Feistl and Van Ness bickering on the other side, “and I could use, you know,” he sighed, “someone I can trust.”

The shock still wasn’t gone from Trujillo’s face, but now he was at least smiling as well. He nodded towards the two new agents outside the office. “You don’t trust them?”

Javi scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I trust them not to sell me out. I don’t trust them to be fuckin’ subtle.”

Trujillo chuckled, nodding in understanding. “Right.” Taking a deep breath, he really thought about the offer that Javi was extending to him. It hit him that regardless of how much he did or didn’t want to do what Javi was asking, it wasn’t really up to him to decide whether or not he could go. “Did you clear it with—”

“They’re good with it if you are,” Javi cut him off, knowing what the rest of the question was going to be.

“That easy?”

Javi’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “As easy as anything is with them.”

Trujillo smirked at that. He could only imagine what that conversation must have been like between Javi and Martinez. It was nothing short of a miracle that Javi got the okay to ask. Trujillo supposed that maybe he shouldn’t waste the opportunity. “I’ll go.”

Relief crashed over Javi in one big tidal wave. His shoulders relaxed as he let out a quiet sigh. “Good.” He nodded towards his office door. “Go home and pack. We’re outta here first thing tomorrow morning.”

Their travels were quiet, uneventful. For the first time in a long time everything was on-schedule and going according to plan. In the back of Javi and Trujillo’s minds, they were both making a point to enjoy it because if history told them anything, it was that once they touched down in Mexico, things weren’t going to be quite as smooth.

“Agent Breslin,” Javi said, holding out his hand as they walked up to the man who was there to greet them as they got off the plane.

The man returned the gesture, giving Javi’s hand a firm shake. “Agent Peña.”

Trujillo stood back half a step as he watched all of the agents introduce themselves to each other. Even though Agent Breslin was wearing dark tinted sunglasses, Trujillo could still tell where he was looking for the most part. It didn’t take long for the two of them to be looking directly at each other.

Javi stepped in to facilitate their introduction. “Walt, this is Officer Trujillo.”

Trujillo stepped in to shake Walt’s hand. Despite his eyes being covered, the slow rise and fall of his head as he looked him over gave away exactly what he was doing as they shook hands. “Officer,” Walt said, his tone somewhere between a statement and a question. Trujillo only raised his eyebrows, to which Walt responded, “Just a long way from home, that’s all.”

Trujillo broke the handshake, arm dropping back to his side as he gave Walt the same obvious once-over he’d just doled out. “From the looks of it, I’m not the only one.”

The comment got Walt to scoff out something akin to a chuckle. He nodded. “Fair.” Turning back to Javi, he gestured towards the var behind him. “Come on, I’ll get you guys all up to speed.”

Trujillo stayed quiet for most of the drive. He listened to everything that Javi and Walt were talking about. Javi had given him the barest bones of a debrief before the took off, but Trujillo knew enough to know that he was going to be doing a lot of learning on the fly. That’s how it always was with them.

He didn’t know what he had been expecting when Javi told him that Walt had put together his won crew. Trujillo knew what their crew looked like in Colombia—it was essentially whoever Carrillo had any kind of trust in. And Steve. But he had no idea what he was going to be in for when they walked into the safehouse.

Whatever Trujillo thought it was going to be, the group of men staring at them as they all walked in were not who he had been expecting. He knew better than to judge books by their covers, of course, but it was hard not to notice the fact that it seemed like Walt was aiming to be as eclectic as possible with the people he brought into this. Trujillo wondered where the four of them were going to fit into it all.

Walt addressed his group of men first, taking the liberty of introducing everyone in one fell swoop. “This is Agent Peña—the guy I was telling you all about.” He pointed to the other two DEA agents. “Those are agents Feistl and Van Ness.” He turned and looked at the last man left. “And this is Officer Trujillo.” Walt looked at the four of them before gesturing broadly to the entire assembly of men in front of him. “This is the Smash & Grab Crew.” He paused. “You guys are just in time. Got some shit going down tonight.”

“Walt,” Kenny spoke up, cautious and annoyed.

Walt waved him off. “They’re here. They’re not goin’ anywhere. Might as well help—we could use the extra hands.”

After a few seconds of tense silence, everyone caved, nodding in agreement. It was too late to try and take it all back to keep secrets now anyway. Once they had all come to that silent agreement, they showed Javi and his men where they could drop their bags. They were all looking around the space as they made their way through it, scoping it out the same way they did every new environment that they got tossed into.

A man materialized beside Trujillo, and he would later learn that his name was Ossie. He had a cigarette between his lips and an amused smirk on his face as he watched Trujillo watch and process everything happening around them. “Bienvenidos, hm?”

Trujillo chuckled, for some reason feeling a little more at home after the comment. “Algo como eso.”

It’d been a long time since Trujillo felt like he was getting left behind and missing out on the action of things. It was a feeling that he hadn’t missed in the slightest. It wasn’t as though he was the only one left behind at the safehouse while the rest of them went out to snatch Verdín, but he still didn’t care for it. Javi was the only one out of the four of them to go, and while he heard Feistl and Van Ness chalk it up to a seniority thing, Trujillo knew it was much more about trust than it was rank.

His annoyance about the delegation of tasks was put temporarily on-hold when everyone came bursting back into the safehouse. At face value, it seemed like a successful operation. They caught the guy, after all. However, even though that was the case, Trujillo could feel the angst and tension among the men as dragged Verdín in. He was curious as to what happened, but he also knew better than to try and ask. If he needed to know, he’d find out eventually one way or another.

The second that Trujillo heard Verdín say, “I know that you left witnesses alive,” he knew what the initial tension had been about when they got back. He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him, the way that he dropped his head. That was a problem that would rear its ugly head again at some point. Might be hours, days, or weeks, but it would happen—it always did. He knew why people did. He wasn’t heartless, after all. But it also came down to weighing ethics against the endgame. Means versus ends. For a moment he felt like he was back home, but it was a brief moment.

The lengthy, and fruitless, interrogation made him miss Colombia. More specifically, it made him miss Carrillo. Not to say that Carrillo always made quick work of things. There were plenty of times where it was a slow burn. There were plenty of other times when even if the going wasn’t slow, it certainly wasn’t going right. But even then, at least there was something.

He could only sit there and watch Walt try to beat answers out of the guy for so long. He left Javi and the two agents to play spectator with some of Walt’s other men. Trujillo wasn’t even planning on leaving, not like he had any other place to go. He just needed to look at a different wall for a little while.

He was approaching the doorway of the safehouse when he heard a few of Walt’s crew outside talking. From what he caught, he wished that he could’ve heard the conversation from the start. He got there in time to hear Danilo firmly put Ossie in his place with, “You got into this for a paycheck? Man, don’t be fucking stupid. We’re all in this with our lives.”

No one saw him, and even if they did it wasn’t as though they would’ve really cared for his opinion, but Trujillo was still slowly nodding at the statement anyway. He leaned back against the wall behind him, the murmurs of conversation from outside in one ear, the grunts and dulled thuds of punches in the other. He turned Danilo’s statement over in his head again, hoping that maybe it would drown out some of his frustrations, restore some of the faith. Because even though some of Walt’s men looked like they came from the same farm for Americans that Steve Murphy did, Trujillo had to admit that they were dedicated to everything that they were doing. Kind of like Murphy, he thought silently to himself with a quick grin.

More hours ticked by. More punches thrown. If only any of it had resulted in more information from Verdín, but they were still stuck at square one the same way they had been when they brought him back. Trujillo listened to Walt and Javi going back and forth about it, trying to figure out what the best plan of action was now. Like it or not, they were all on a clock—Verdín was right about that and a lot of other things, unfortunately, so they needed to figure their shit out and quickly.

“We gotta go to Plan B,” Kenny said, sounding a little more desperate than he should’ve.

“I don’t have a Plan B,” Walt responded, as exhausted as Kenny was desperate. “All I got’s a fucking Plan A.”

Trujillo listened to them all descend into bickering about the details of it all. They weighed the pros and cons of staying, of moving him now. Ideas got batted back and forth like ping pong balls, just as many flaws as there were upsides, if not more of the former than the latter. Trujillo watched the divide start to form, two camps, essentially. Plan A and Plan B were both taking shape, and no matter what one they went with people were going to be pissed off. What they couldn’t afford, though, was waiting around and letting Plan C unfold, which was Verdín’s people finding them and putting an end to all of this in the worst way possible. It was the first time in a long time that Trujillo saw Javi airing on the side of caution. The agent he knew a small handful of years earlier wouldn’t have been playing it safe like that. Things change.

Apparently Walt hadn’t grown wary in the way that Javi had, not yet anyway. “Danilo, give me your blade.”

The words had hardly left Walt’s mouth and Danilo was happily obliging. It caused some protests from the group. Kenny tried to stop him with nothing to show for it. Javi spoke up too, but was silenced with a pithy comment about being a guest and not having a say in this one. Trujillo had the vague notion that he should be backing Javi, but he also couldn’t help but to think that maybe this would actually do it. So, instead, he followed Walt back into the next room. He didn’t participate in cutting Verdín’s finger off, wasn’t one of the men holding him down. But he did throw his arm out to stop Feistl who was going to try and put himself in the middle of it. He had to align himself with one half of the team eventually—he wanted to be on the half that got some fucking results.

The only problem was that Verdín held strong even through that. Eventually it was just the four of them in the room: Walt, Danilo, Verdín, and Trujillo. For a while it was silent except for the sound of Verdín’s labored breathing. When the sound shifted, and it seemed like he was going to speak up, the three of them tried not to seem too interested, didn’t want to seem too hopeful.

What came out of Verdín’s mouth next, though, wasn’t what any of them wanted to hear. Trujillo still listened, though, unable to stop himself from comparing what Verdín was saying to what all the criminals back home in Colombia had said to him over the years. There were some similarities, but there were a lot of differences, too. He watched the expression on Walt’s face, the way that it hardly shifted no matter what the man tied to the chair said. He watched Danilo’s face, too. Out of all the people Trujillo thought this man would get a reaction out of, Danilo hadn’t quite been at the top of his list, but he was feeding right into it. Maybe it was a tactic, maybe not. Trujillo didn’t know the man well enough to make that call. Walt wasn’t stepping in though, wasn’t trying to cut the conversation short, so Trujillo opted to just follow suit.

When Danilo stepped out of the room, he figured that was the end of it. Verdín must’ve thought the same because he instantly started to say how Danilo was weak. He only got a few words into his next monologue, though, before Danilo strode back into the room, lifted his gun, and fired one shot right into the man’s stomach.

Walt flinched, but his face almost immediately shifted to acceptance after the fact. Trujillo stood back, not moving one way or the other as everyone else came filing into the room. Danilo was already stepping back, hands up in surrender. Amat took the gun from him without a fight. Trujillo studied everyone’s faces, trying to gauge what was going to happen next based off that alone. One thing he did know, though, was that driving him up to the border was officially out of the question.

Trujillo watched as Walt and Danilo sat by each other, both of them calm despite the slight panic and anger coursing through the rest of their team, which now included Javi and his two agents. Neither Walt nor Danilo seemed fazed by that though. Walt, with a tone as even as anything Trujillo had ever heard, outlined when and how Verdín could choose to die, Danilo sitting by him nodding in agreement.

There was a brief moment when Trujillo thought that Verdín was going to die doing what he thought was protecting his country. It wouldn’t be the first time he saw something like that happen, men dying for nothing claiming that it was for everything. But then he caved. With a gasp and a sputter, he finally gave out a name. It wasn’t a name that Trujillo was familiar with, but other men in the room were which was all that mattered. Trujillo looked on as Walt, with hollow but almost convincingly genuine empathy, said that they were going to get Verdín some help.

He also watched on as Walt strode into the next room and made no move to do any such thing.

It was the one argument of the day that Walt had ended up losing. A few of the guys ended up loading Verdín into the car, piling in after him, and taking off towards the nearest hospital. Trujillo didn’t volunteer to be one of those people, leaving that task for one of the other agents who had more sincerity left in them than he did.

When they were gone, Trujillo made his way out into the alley between their safehouse and the next building over. It was dark, but the streetlamps threw just enough light for him to see and make his way over to where Danilo was standing. He had a fresh cigarette in his hand, the look on his face didn’t hold a single shred of remorse.

Danilo watched as Trujillo approached him, not looking to move or get out of whatever conversation that the officer was looking to have. Whatever he had to say, Danilo was sure it wouldn’t be worse than anything else he’d heard before, anything else he’d hear when the rest of his crew got back.

Trujillo kept his mouth shut. He leaned back against the wall beside Danilo, looking at him for a few more seconds before looking down at the ground beneath their feet. Danilo let out a stream of smoke with his next deep exhale. He gave him another beat or two to speak up, but when he remained silent, Danilo broke the ice for him.

“Did you come out here to scold me like your other men?” Danilo finally asked.

Trujillo chuckled and shook his head. “No.”

Danilo waited another moment for Trujillo to explain himself. The man wasn’t making any move to ask for a cigarette or light one of his own, so he didn’t join Danilo looking for a smoke break. “What, then?”

Trujillo stared hard at the ground beneath his boots for a moment before finally turning and looking Danilo in the eyes. “You remind me of someone I used to know. That’s all.”

Danilo let out a laugh. “That explains it, then.” He saw the expectant look on Trujillo’s face and did him the favor of not making him ask to elaborate. “You were calm compared to your friends in there,” he said with a nod of his head towards the safehouse. “That because of the same someone?”

Trujillo nodded, unsure of what else to say. He wasn’t certain he could get the words out even if he did know what to say anyway.

[hausofmamadas]

| To live and leave fast |

⁂

Pairing: Andrea Nuñez x Horacio Carrillo

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober - Day 16 (+ a bit of Day 15 tbh)

Prompt: Day of Surprises (+ a smidge of Day of Absolute Filth) - create a fanwork that focuses on dreams (+ a smidge of character's moral corruption)

Word count: ≈ 2.3K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, Real Big Sad, angst with some smoochin'

What was he doing here? He couldn’t answer her. The blankness of before was all he could conjure up and that vast emptiness set him on the edge of panic. okay sjsjs the way I told myself that I was gonna stop at 800 words and it becamekfjs this. So again, imsorryforeverything but uhh yea, I barely proofread this so the Spanish is prolly rough and so is everything else but hey! We can just blame it on it’s all a dream, right ….? Right??? Anyway, enjoy some shockingly non-antagonistic and sometimes tender back-and-forth btwn these two and probably the most ooc Carrillo to ever exist bc I’ve never written for him before. Idk why I’m so obsessed with this crackship but I am and it is what it is

⁂

Her voice rang out, “So, tell me. How long do you really think you can go on like this?” almost in time with the flashing red light that cut through the half-broken blinds, filling the dank, dingy room.

Carrillo tried sitting forward from where he must’ve fallen asleep slumped against something, presumably the wall of someone’s living room. No, not someone’s living room. No one’s living room. Because the place was a mess, covered in old takeout wrappers from Tijuana’s finest dining establishments, broken glass, cobwebs, and dust that would’ve been more befitting of an ancient tomb than this place. The smell of vodka or maybe rubbing alcohol burned his nose but he couldn’t pinpoint where it might’ve been coming from.

Was he even still in Tijuana? Huh. Well, that would have to wait till later. Anyway, he didn’t need to know what city he was in to know he was in an abandoned safe house. Which narco faction it belonged to didn’t make a difference. This one had to have been empty for at least a month, probably more, judging by the disarray. That and the insect activity. From Escobar to El Señor de los Cielos, the pace of the narco-lifestyle only lent itself to living and leaving fast, and whatever got left behind was usually beside the point.

Okay, but how’d he get here.

Maybe if he asked her, she’d stop looking right through him from where she stood across the room, arms crossed, leaning back against a mostly empty bookshelf that housed a few old books, some technical manual for car engines, and what looked like some old issues of Penthouse or some other stag magazine. High brow reading. He wondered if sicarios knew how much of a cliche they all were. Just once he’d like to meet one who enjoyed basketweaving, or birdwatching, or who was sentimental about their girlfriend. Anything that broke type. Then again, when it came to breaking type, he wasn’t in the best position to judge.

“Ay, por favooor, cabrón.” Startled, he jerked forward at the sound of her voice. “Remember when I told you that you were straight out of Central Casting for a war movie?” Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she scoffed, “Who are you to talk about breaking type, hombre?”

What the hell. How’d she– He didn’t– Or, had he— Was he talking out loud this whole time?

He sat up straighter and a pain lit up his right side, going from dull to blinding. Hands already at the damp spot on his shirt, trying not to scream, he could tell the wound there was bleeding more now from the pressure of sitting up. Wait no, that was good. Actually, he could use that. Inhaling with the strength of his whole body, he pressed his fingers down, jamming them into the wound, and let the pain accumulate in his chest and ribcage, then exhaled, hoping his breath would send the sensation up further to his face, his forehead, activate the muscles there to share the load of his heavy eyelids.

He didn’t think he was talking out loud, but then, he must’ve been since she’d answered. That meant something, he knew. He couldn’t focus though. Why couldn’t he focus? What’d it mean? Oh right, blood loss. It was worse than he realized. But why wasn’t she helping him? No matter how furious she was with him, that wouldn’t have been like her, standing there while he bled out.

“Ay pinshe Carrillo, no seas mamón. I was helping but you fought me the minute I started trying to clean the thing. And then,” brows knit in his favorite it-is-what-it-is position, she pointed to a puddle by his feet, “you knocked the bottle out of my hands,” then shrugged, looking around the room absently. “And vodka was the only thing I could find in this place that even comes close to sanitary. So, I had to wait for you calm down or pass out before I could do anything.”

He had no memory of that. In fact, he had no memory of anything before that dingy little room. Which was weird. He’d been hit in the head enough times that lapses in memory weren’t an altogether foreign experience, but usually he could remember something from before. Sometimes it might be hours before whatever disaster, but he at least remembered. Now, it was just blank. It occurred to him that he might be–

“–and you might be in shock,” she finished aloud.

Jesus, was he saying everything he was thinking? He watched her and waited, seeing if she’d answer more questions in his head.

That light outside kept flashing, bathing the room in a deep shade of red that danced off the broken glass, creating macabre shadows that skittered up the walls, across the floor, the ceiling. Through the blinds too, it cast alternating stripes of red and black on her face. It would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t so sinister-looking. Well no, it made her more stunning, in a haunting, alien way, even though she looked how she usually did: hair messily pulled back, a few strands hanging in her face, wearing a tank-top and that button-up he’d found at the Salvation Army in San Ysidro. He couldn’t focus. That’s right, he’d gone to drop off some old dining chairs he had no use for, caught it out of the corner of his eye hanging with the rest of the men’s button-ups. And instantly thought of her. Why couldn’t he focus. The pain finally reached his eyes.

Again, she answered his thoughts. “Well, as much as I wanted to fight you for fighting me,” she looked down, pinching the collar of the shirt and wiggling it back and forth like a dollar bill, “I didn’t get far enough in the process of dressing your wound to ruin it. And it is one of my favorites. I have to give it to you, tigre. Your attention to detail is the stuff of legend, and they were not wrong.”

At that, he smiled tiredly. She rocked forward, kicking off the bookshelf, and strode over to him, bits of glass crunching under the gummy, rubber souls of her boots. Doc Martens. So practical. They really were, the two of them, the same sometimes.

“Andrea,” her name came out in a whisper and a wince as he clutched at his side. He looked down in a daze that no matter how many times he blinked, how wide he forced his eyes open, he couldn’t shake. “How’d th– what happened? What are you doing here? How’d you– ,” he grunted, shifting his weight to his good side, “mm– get here?”

“Te he seguido, obvio.”

What? She follo– he hadn’t even briefed anyone on the raid at Agua Caliente until right before. Trujillo would never. Walt? No, after the debacle in Juarez, he was too wrapped up needing this win to jeopardize it by talking to a reporter. Even one as dogged and persistent as Andrea. And yes, she was resourceful. But resourceful, not psychic.

It felt like a lifetime of sitting there trying put it all together and he didn’t remember when she’d started making her way towards him, but she was already kneeling next to him now, slowly removing his hands from his side. Her eyes and forehead pinched in such a way that would’ve amplified his concern if he weren’t so out of it.

Her fingers felt cold around his neck. “Árre, we need to get this off,” she said, unbuttoning the collar of his uniform.

He was alarmed when his hands brushed hers and he saw they were covered in some dark substance. Oh, blood. Strange, it looked pitch black in this light. Andrea continued working her way down, pulling each button gingerly, so as not to hurt him more. The closer she got to his stomach, the more her hands began to resemble his, covered in black.

“Dale, mija. ¿Me vas a explicar lo que haces aquí ya o qué?”

He wanted to rub his thumb across her lip as it curled up in a smug smile. “Why? Should I not be here? You want me to leave? Sure,” she craned her neck around, and called out into the empty room, “I’ll just be on my way then and let someone in this massive crowd of eager, good samaritans help you.”

He chuckled thinly. When she faced back to him, she began untucking his shirt as delicately as possible. It hurt like a sonofabitch but it was going to hurt no matter what they did, so he softened the corners of his eyes, trying not to make her feel bad.

She continued. “The better question I think is, what are you doing here?”

Once he was free from his dress shirt, she grabbed both sides of the hole in the white shirt underneath and tore it wider to get a better look at the wound. Blood leaked out in streams down his stomach to his waist. It appeared to be a large gash from some kind of shrapnel. Much too jagged for a knife. The harsh sound of air through her teeth was a good indicator of what kind of shape he was in.

Alright so, shrapnel. But he couldn’t remember an explosion and there was no evidence of one having happened there in the room. What was he doing here? He couldn’t answer her. The blankness of before was all he could conjure up and that vast emptiness set him on the edge of panic.

He’d been doing a passable job not reacting too viscerally with his face, but when she started rifling through his pockets on either side, he grimaced, growling, “Ay, Andrea! Qué coño estás haciendo, porfavor.”

Paying him no mind, she held out her hand like a surgeon waiting for a scalpel. “Knife.”

He jutted his chin toward his feet. Spotting the shiny silver clip, she grabbed the knife from his boot, flicked it out, and made an incision in the hem of his uniform shirt. Catching the free section in her teeth, she tore down the length of the initial incision, and started packing the vodka-soaked gauze that she’d managed to hold onto after his freakout onto the wound and tying it with the strips of cloth cut from the shirt. When she pulled hard, securing the final knot, he nearly keeled over.

“Aycarajoperdónperdónperdóname,” she said, catching him by the shoulders.

She stayed there, acting as his scaffolding until the pain subsided. He lifted his chin to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. Just in her wanting to help him, the assurance of her fingertips against his shoulders, he felt her helping him. He couldn’t remember a time he was so grateful for another human being. Grateful in the way only she could make him feel. 

Speaking half to her and half to the ground, he tried putting the pieces together, “I don’t know what I’m doing here. For some reason–“ but lost the words when he’d barely gotten started.

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s– I have this strange– I have a feeling we’ve always been here. And will … always be here.”

Andrea nodded, eyes closed, like she knew exactly what he was talking about. It might feel like a trap if they didn’t have each other. She was always more than enough.

After a beat of silence, she pulled back and looked at him sadly, like she knew something he didn’t. Which was odd given what she asked next. “Horacio, por favor, necesito saberlo. Why? Why did you do it?”

Why’d he do it? Why’d he do, what?

“I know it’s in there, I know you remember. You have to, or you’ll never make it out of here.”

He shook his head, squinting his eyes, confused and cranky like a kid prematurely woken up from a nap. “Make it out? I’m not gonna make it out. Not unless you help me. Look at–“ he motioned to his side, “Ni siquiera puedo andar, mija.”

“Yes, you can,” she insisted calmly, her eyes full of an inexplicable mix of hope and resignation.

What did she know that he didn’t?

“I don’t know anything you don’t know. You just don’t want to know it. But you have to try, tigre. Eso es la única manera de vengarte a él. No more cutting corners. No more deals with the devil. Eres mejor que eso, ya lo sabes.”

The devil. The devil. The flashing red light. Deals. Deals with the devil.

Ah. Calderoni. That. That fucking deal.

His own C.I.s in exchange for Calderoni’s intel on Agua Caliente, el Hipódromo, Carlos Hank Gonzalez. A bigger fish than the Arellanos. Even though he knew exactly what the family would do to the informants. They’d have to stop building bridges in Mexico to hang people from. He showed up in Tijuana to clean up Rebollo’s mess and gone ahead and made his own.

Still, she was never part of the deal. But he could guess how that happened. In some boardroom meeting he conveniently wasn’t present for, somehow “journalist” and “informant” got conflated. They were wise not to include him. Not only would he not have agreed, he would’ve ensured not a single one of them made it out of there on two feet and breathing.

So, is this what it’s like watching the boulder come crashing down the mountain for the hundredth? Thousandth? Millionth time?

Carrillo’s face fell with understanding. “But I can’t lose you.”

“Sí, pero lo tienes que hacer. You have work to do. Because I love you. And you love me. And you owe me. And,” she rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek, and then flashed a dangerous smile, “I want you to burn the whole motherfucking thing to the ground.”

Then, cradling the back of his neck with both hands, she leaned in, lips christening him on the forehead, each of his eyelids, the tip of his nose, coming to a close at his own. There was a finality to the kiss that made him dig in deeper as if he could hold her here without lifting a finger, an urgency she returned so fiercely, when they broke away both their lips were swollen and flushed. Not without passion, but it wasn’t carnal so much as the pure desperation of goodbye.

“Going after those pinshe shingamadres is the least you can do.” He hadn’t even registered tears at his eyes until she brushed one with her thumb that had escaped down onto his cheekbone and mused, “After all, you are the reason I’m dead.”

∴

Slapped with a blast of air, his whole body jolted back to life, as he came to in a cold sweat, ceiling fan taunting him from above while he gasped for air and shivered against the damp sheets. He was so used to waking up violently like this, it didn’t even scare him anymore. Confused him a little, maybe. But reassurance was quick to follow and his breathing slowed as he relaxed, because ah, yes, he knew how to deal with the nightmares now.

Like clockwork, he reached for his life preserver, turning and throwing his arm over to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel the warmth of her back, her shoulders, hear her steady breathing next to him. But his hand sailed straight through empty air and landed on the cold, vacant spot of the mattress instead.

He almost doubled over. Pain unlike anything.

Worse than when Trujillo first delivered the news to him in his office. Much worse. The perpetual renewal of shock that this was real and the place in that dingy room in his head was not, only sharpened the blow each time. But he deserved to be wounded and wounded like this over and over again. After all, he was responsible, she was right about that.

She wasn’t here to help him with the nightmares anymore. Now, she only lived in his.

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc @narcolini

[the-musical-cc]

*llega barriéndose

¡FELIZ FRANKELDA DAY!

Pues es Junio, será día del padre y el fandom ya tiene un papacito canon al que simpear, le tocó A Ficturo. Siento que lo mas probable es que Herneval aprendiera a amar la lectura de sus padres del modo que Frankelda aprendió de su madre, pero como dice Neil Gaiman, wait and see. Mi expectativa, la verdad, es que nos van a hacer querer mucho a los reyes para después rompernos el corazón con algún golpe de desarrollo. Ya estoy mentalizada de llevar kleenex al cine.

(No vean mi cursiva fea, por alguna razón no puedo hacerla bien en digital aoaisjaiosjas f.)

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

.

[electricpurplelamp]

really the only news site ever

[cparti-mkiki]

The Annunciation - Juan Pantoja de la Cruz (1605)

The Angel (three-year-old Anne of Austria) announces the birth of Jesus (the future Philip IV) to the Virgin Mary (Queen Margaret of Austria).

[kokomatdoroshi]

Happy 10 year anniversary to Tiny-G 😭💓 queens are gone but not forgotten

omggg TEN years icb-

Happy anniversary to K-pop's tiniest underrated gems ✊🏽😤

Incapable of releasing a bad song even though we didn't get nearly as many as they deserved. That acting bug got hands 😭💕

[inherentparasite]

[kagiura-akira]

i am. So tired. Of the adult mental repercussions of childhood indoctrination of fatphobia. I wish people really understood the effect the way they portray their feelings about their own body has on their kids because can you imagine growing up being raised by a yoyo dieter who goes to such lengths to keep you from becoming "like them" that they encourage their twelve year old preteen daughter to diet and give them weight loss tips instead of teaching them to love their body when kids at school call them fat. Literal children who are going through puberty when it's NORMAL to fill out before growing taller or going through hormonal changes.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hobie brown x O'hara!reader??? her and hobie are VERY VERY different.... shes so lana del rey and quiet while hes being himself <333 but miguels talking to her in spanish asking her why she chose him knowing that their opposites but just wants to see her happy??? have the best day LMFAOOO. im sorry i cant freaking sleep rn... MUAH<3333

LOVE LOVE LOVE. Thank you for this anon

Opposites attract

You silently watched Hobie as he went on a rant, nodding and listening carefully. Just admiring his face.

“I mean, seriously it’s jus’ stupid innit?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled at you “At least I have one person who agrees.” He said, and took a bite of his food.

You laughed and he smiled at your laugh.

“Someone’s happy today.”

“Jus’ enjoying being with you.” You said.

“Me too, me too.”

“Well, I won’t keep you, go back to doing your work, spider-man.” You smiled at him softly, you both stood up. You grabbed the food you saved for your dad, and He gave you a quick kiss before you left to your dads office.

“Hola papá, te traje algo de almuerzo.”

(Hi dad, I brought you some lunch.)

“Gracias. ¿Estuviste con Hobie otra vez?” He took it.

(Thank you. Were you with Hobie again?)

“¿Sí, porque?”

(Yeah, why)

He sighed “No entiendo lo que ves en él..”

(I don’t know what you see in him)

“Es links conmigo y me defiende.”

(He’s sweet. And he stands up for me.)

“Si tu eres feliz yo soy feliz. Pero si te lastima, hazle saber que lo mataré mientras duerme.”

(If you're happy i'm happy. But if he hurts you let him know ill kill him in his sleep)

You laughed “I’ll let him know.” You shook your head and left his office

[fairlyang]

Appreciate 🕷️

caught masturbating while babysitting

w/c: 5.1K

pairing: dilfneighbor!miguel x latinababysitter!reader

tags: 18+ smut. slow burn oops, age gap (not specified but reader is early 20's, mig early 30's, dirty thoughts ensue, caught masturbating, he helps you out, fingering, staying quiet

notes: the getting caught fucking KILLED me rn while editing I cannot😭

Miguel O'Hara was one of your neighbors and your parents quickly got a liking to the single father across the street. He was very laidback and kind, accommodating with all the neighbors for literally anything.

So considering that when Miguel would say he never had time for himself due to always taking care of his daughter, Gabriella, your dad told him you'd be happy to babysit for him while he took him out to get a couple drinks with a few of the other dads in the neighborhood.

But of course you had no fucking clue this conversation was even had until the day your dad promised him some drinks.

"Oye mija le prometí a Miguel que ibas a quedar a su hija para sacarlo a tomarnos unos tragos." He tells you standing by your doorway while you sat on your bed and then just walks away. (Hey honey I promised Miguel that you were going to take care of his daughter so we could take him out to have a couple drinks)

"Porque hiciste eso?!!?!" You yelled and quickly hopped out of bed and ran after him beyond pissed. (Why did you do that?!!?!)

"Si apenas me estaba alistando para salir con mis amigas no chingues!!!!" You screamed following down the stairs in your heels that clicked on every step. (I was just getting ready to go hang out with my friends. it's a phrase that can be used for shock or when shit goes wrong)

"Pues dile a Miguel que se canceló el plan entonces." He says so confident you wouldn't do it until you walk past him and heading straight to the front door. (Then go tell Miguel that the plans are canceled)

"AY OKAY! Que quieres?" He says and rolls his eyes as you turn around to face him. (What do you want?)

"Me debes un enorme favor. Lo que sea cuando te lo pida." You say and point a finger at him, just to show you really mean it. (You owe me enormous favor. Whatever it is, whenever I ask you of it)

"Ya que-" (ugh whatever- or like 'since I have no other choice')

"Tu mismo te hiciste esto." You quickly cut him off and he only groans. (You only did this to yourself)

"Pues deja me pongo cómoda. Ya que no tengo otra opción." You say and glare at him to which he only gives you a goofy smile. (Let me get comfortable. Now that I don't have another option)

You reluctantly went upstairs, annoyed that this was how your Friday night was gonna go over going clubbing with your friends.

But shit happens, what can you really do?

You go back to your room and take off your perfectly chosen red mini dress and put the sweats you were wearing earlier back on. You then grab a tee shirt that had hello kitty on it with some sunglasses, hoping to get some brownie points by the little girl at least.

You then slip on a pair of purple crocs and you're done. Until you realized you had already put your makeup on so now you have to take it off.

What a waste.

You grab a makeup wipe that you had on your desk and wipe off your eye makeup, then everything else only leaving your lips alone.

Then grabbing your phone off your bed, sending a quick text to your friends that you can't make it and you head back downstairs. "Vámonos." Your dad says and snaps his finger as if he has any room to complain. (Let's go.)

He opened the front door and you walked out right behind him as you mumble how annoying he was to which he told you to just calm down and it wouldn't be that bad.

You walked across the street and stepped up to his front door, your dad ringing the doorbell to which you then hear loud footsteps coming from inside.

Then the door opens by none other than the very energetic 8 year old. This was going to be a long night...

You smile down at her and give her a wave which she returns and gives you a toothy grin of her own. "Gabi donde está tu papá?" You asked and she just pointed up. (where's your dad?)

"Se está poniendo sus tenis! Dijo voy a jugar con alguien nueva." She says and goes back inside letting out giggles as she walks to the living room. (He's putting on his shoes! He said I get to play with someone new)

You follow her in and see coloring books, crayons, colored pencils and markers all over the coffee table in front of the tv. "Te gusta colorear?" She asked as she takes a seat behind the table as you make your way around the couch to sit on the floor with her. (Do you like to color?)

"Si me encanta!" You say and her eyes lit up. (Yes I love it!)

Suddenly you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and straighten up as Miguel comes down giving you a bright smile.

And lord did he clean up nice.

He was wearing a black button up with some jeans and black boots. You gave him a smile as he walked over to you and Gabi, who was also shining her big smile. "Papi también le gusta colorear!!" She says jumping up onto the couch and grinning ear to ear. (she also likes to color!!)

He gasps and tickles her sides making her erupt into fits of giggles, "de verdad?" He says and turns to you, to which you give a small shrug and just smile. (really?)

He stops tickling her and she hops off the couch just to sit back down on the floor. You turn to him and he walks around the couch leaning down, and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek to which you return at the same time.

"Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it." He says and you pull back, waving him off before he continues, "Gabi's on a little sugar rush right now but she'll be calm within the next hour and will want to go to bed right after. She's a very deep sleeper so feel free to use the tv and help yourself to any of the food."

You nod and watch as he bends over and whispers something to her ear to which Gabi nods and gives him a thumbs up. He gets up and mouthed another thank you then walks out the front door.

Maybe this won't be too bad.

And it wasn't.

You ended up coloring two pages of a finding nemo coloring book while she was coloring on a spongebob coloring book. And surprisingly stayed in the lines.

After that she wanted you to play with her dolls to which you felt happy to, it was like reliving your childhood and she was such a sweet kid.

You noticed it was 8pm and helped Gabi put away all her coloring things and let her lead you to her bedroom.

She runs in as you carry her art supplies and she points to a desk for you to leave them on.

You walk over to her dresser where Miguel left a pair of pjs for her to put on and help her take off shoes as well as her glittery shirt and pants.

She then puts on her pjs and goes off the brush her teeth all by herself. Made your job even easier.

She runs back in after a few minutes and plops down onto her bed, "can you tuck me in? Porfis?" She asks and give little puppy dog eyes. (Please)

"Of course." You nod and walk over to her princess bed.

"Como un burrito!" She giggles making you laugh. (Like a burrito!)

So you pull her blanket over her body and let her lift her arms before tucking her in tightly which just made the little girl giggle. You go down and tuck her nicely tight before coming up and passing her the stuffed animal she was reaching for.

A spider.

Weird option but it had cute eyes.

"Goodnight Gabi, duerme con cosas bonitas." You whisper and smile at her as she gives you one back. (Sleep with pretty things)

You turn off her lamp from her bedside table, then walk towards her door, turning the light switch off before finally closing the door.

You head downstairs, turning off all the lights, and plop down on one of the couches in the living room. You scroll on your phone but then quickly grow bored so you reach over the coffee table and grab the remote control.

You turn the tv on and go through the apps they had and decide to watch 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'. You kick your crocs off then make yourself comfortable before turning to watch the tv.

You got to watch the first scene before your eyes started fluttering and you pass out.

You don't wake up until you hear the jingle of the door and you jump up, wiping your eyes and sitting up to watch Miguel come through the door, surprisingly not shit faced.

You stood up and greeted him with a hug, then a kiss on the cheek as he gives you one back. "Como les fue?" You ask and he shrugs. (How'd it go?)

You then pull away and take quick notice of the lipstick stains along his neck. You look back up at him and he smiles, "estuvo bien." (It was good)

Sure looks like it.

You shrug and smile, "que bien! If you need me to babysit just let my parents know and hopefully I'll be available." You offer and he sighs. (That's good!)

"I really appreciate it," he starts and takes his wallet out which you look at with a confused look, "me vale que era un favor, no me siento bien en no pagarte un poco." (I don't care that it was a favor, I feel bad in not paying you a little bit)

"Y más porque tu papá me dijo que tu ya tenías planes y ni sabías de esto." He says with a sympathetic smile while handing you a $50 bill. (And more because your dad told me that you had plans and didn't know about this)

You widen your eyes and shake your head, "no te preocupes! Está bien y Gabi se porto bien! No me tienes que pagar Miguel." You say and wave him off. (Don't worry about it! It's okay and Gabi behaved well! You don't have to pay me.)

"Por favor tómalo, me siento mal. Agarra el dinero para que tomes con tus amigas, yo picho." He says, letting out a chuckle at the last two words and you sigh. (Please take it, I feel bad. Grab the money so you can drink with your friends, I'll pay."

His eyes were pleading and it looked like he felt bad but it wasn't even his fault. If anything your dad should be the one paying.

"Si no para la próxima le digo a Gabi que lo esconda de tu ropa." He threatens making you burst out laughing. (If not for the next time I'll tell Gabi to hide it in your clothes)

"Creo que quiero ver eso..." you joke and he laughs. (I think I wanna see that)

"Mis papas me matarán si lo tomo Miguel. De verdad estás bien!" You reassure him and he sighs. (My parents will kill me if I take it Miguel. Seriously you're fine!)

"Eres bien terca." He mutters and you scoff. (You're very stubborn)

A smirk tugs on his lips and you had to fight the thoughts entering your mind. Sure he was fine as hell, you already knew that but you shouldn't be thinking this mid conversation.

"Maybe next time I'll accept it!" You say and shrug as he slides the bill back in his wallet.

"Fine." He sighs in defeat and tilts his head to the side, "but I'll still make Gabi hide it in your clothes just for good measure." He jokes making you smile.

"Yeah yeah." You wave him off and walk past him to the front door.

"Thank you again, I appreciate it." He says turning to face you and opens the door for you.

"Course! Anytime, and now I'll actually know about it." You joke making him roll his eyes.

"Tu papá es algo más." He says and you nod. (Your dad is something else)

"Lo se." You mutter and finally walk out before you waste anymore of his time. (I know)

"Cuidate!" He shouts as you walk out of his porch and onto the sidewalk. (Stay safe!)

You turn back to him and wave before turning back and crossing the street back to your house. You open the door assuming your dad didn't lock it and sure enough it was open.

As you stepped in and closed the door you noticed Miguel was still outside his door, making sure you did stay safe.

So sweet.

You give him one last wave before closing the door and immediately head to your room.

You open the door and quickly close it before taking off your crocs once again and plopping down onto your bed.

And now finally your thoughts could roam free.

His hair was slicked back before he left the house, right now that shit was all over the place.

And the lipstick stains on his neck??

He definitely got his own fun tonight but you couldn't help but feel so jealous.

It's not your fault if you occasionally had a wandering eye whenever Miguel was around.

Or peeking out through your bedroom window to watch him when he mowed the lawn. Shirtless.

Or stare at him longer than you should at random carne asadas the neighbors would host.

It was natural for a young woman to feel attraction towards an older man like him.

Especially with daddy issues but that's besides the point-

He stood out from the other dads in the neighborhood, he was younger. Respectful, kind, helpful.

Everything a woman could ever ask for.

So you couldn't help but instantly felt a twinge of jealousy when you saw the lipstick stains on his neck.

Why couldn't that be you that left them?

At least now you know he looked really good in red..

But at what cost? Feeling your entire being now getting taken over by jealousy of a man you have no right to and probably stand no chance in ever having?

Or touching...

And there came the horny thoughts that always seemed to appear in the back of your mind. He always just did something to you. Your body couldn't help but want him, crave him, his touch.

So you repeated the endless cycle of anytime you see him just having to masturbate. It was getting bad dude, but not hurting anyone.

Besides maybe your heart that I wasn't him giving you orgasm after orgasm.

——————

Alas you had to use your own fingers to make you cum and not Miguel's. Again.

But you moved on and let the next day pass. Nothing eventful happened, and there were no Miguel sightings to be found.

That was until you got a text from an unknown number and low and behold it was the man you were daydreaming about all day.

Unknown number

Hey it's Miguel! I asked your dad for your number, hope that's fine but was wondering if you could babysit for me tmrw?

Got scheduled for a late shift at the lab and don't want Gabi home alone🥲

It was embarrassing how quickly you started typing your response but how could you say no?

You're good!! And I'd love to! What time?

No way he could sense your desperation to see him again through text. Right?

You added him to your contacts before he finally texts back.

Miguel💞

Around 6, getting out at midnight so please let me pay you this time

You sigh and quickly type back.

Alrightttt

And sounds good I'll be seeing you guys tmrw:)

And with that no more messages from him came in but he left a like to your second message.

And the rest of your night was uneventful besides the occasional wet dream filling your mind and distracting you.

——————

It was the next day and you were practically counting down the hours until you had to go babysit.

Given you wouldn't even see Miguel for too long before or after but still. You'd have to make do with the amount of time you will see him.

But because you knew you'd just be playing or coloring with Gabi again, you decided to just dress comfortably over trying to impress Miguel for less than five minutes.

So sweats and a tee shirt again but no bra because who the fuck wants to willingly wear a bra for six hours?

Yeah right.

Now all dressed you grabbed your airpods and phone, slipped your crocs on and went downstairs. Saying a quick goodbye to your parents before exiting your house and trying not to skip on over to Miguel's house.

It was 5:45 but you figured you'd get there early just cause, definitely not to possibly spend a little more time with him.

Definitely not.

You walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Instantly the door flew open and Gabi opened the door wide so you could come in.

You ruffle her hair as she grins up at you, "cómo estás Gabi?" (How are you?)

"Bien! Apenas comí pozole!" She says as you walk in and she happily closes the door behind you. (Good! I just ate pozole!)

You gasp and were about to respond when Miguel came down. "The pot is still warm si te quieres servir un plato." He says giving you a quick hug and kiss on your cheek. (if you want a plate)

"Might just have to." You reply giving him a smile once he pulled away.

He was wearing a white lab coat, maybe a white button up and you didn't want to look down to see the rest.

His hair was slicked back again but the best part was that he was wearing thick black glasses. It made him look 100x more attractive but you remained calm.

No way to act like a barbarian right now.

Maybe later.

"Okay have her in bed by seven because she's got school tomorrow and no sweets besides pan dulce with a glass of milk." He says and you chuckle as Gabi storms up to him with a pout on her face.

But he didn't budge.

"Tv and fridge are all yours. Make yourself at home and I'll be back by midnight." He tells you then looks down at Gabi.

"Pórtate bien." He says, leaning down and giving her a kiss on her forehead and a hug. (Behave)

"Ya se papi, ya se." She says and playfully rolls her eyes. (I know dad, I know)

He gives her a warning look before blowing her a kiss as he walks to the front door. He gives her one last look and she just waves him goodbye. He chuckles and opens the door then shuts it behind him.

"Can we watch Bluey?" She looks up at you with pleading little eyes and you nod as she sprints to the living room without another word.

So you end up watching Bluey with Gabi for a good nine episodes before you were slowly losing yourself into this little kids show. The little accents and cute storylines just got to your heartstrings.

And with fifteen minutes left to spare, you wait until the episode Gabi was watching was over before hitting the back button leading you back to the disney+ home screen.

Gabi whined and you shook your head, "no more, you've gotta get ready for bed!"

She groans but nonetheless heads upstairs with you trailing behind her. She gets dressed into her pjs then heads straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She's literally an angel.

No way Miguel would have a hard time finding a sitter for her. She's every babysitter's dream. Besides the occasional sarcasm she got from her dad.

But nonetheless still an angel.

Finally she's in bed and you're tucking her in, once again passing her the stuffed spider, who you learned she named Gabri, after her favorite uncle.

You then shut off the lights and walk out of her room, closing the door gently.

You walk back downstairs turning off the lights before heading to the living room. You plop down on the couch and get comfortable, this time putting on a blanket that was on the armrest because it was getting cold.

You play a random movie, snuggling the blanket to your face to warm yourself up when you realize it smells like Miguel.

Maybe he was sitting there earlier?

You breathed in and breathed out, feeling so relaxed. Your eyes start fluttering and it's the second time you pass out at Miguel's place. 

You get woken up by screams coming from the tv, probably wasn't the best to play a scary movie but oh well.

You stretched and let out a yawn before switching positions and laying down so your legs were stretched out over the whole couch. You laid your head on the arm rest and wiped your eyes before taking your phone and airpods from your pocket.

You put them both in your ears before just scrolling through your phone. You move the blanket so it was mostly by your chest and stomach, exposing your legs because you weren't cold but still wanted it on you.

Just then you inhale his scent again and he must've been wearing something expensive because it smelled so good.

You then got the absolute best idea imaginable. And with Miguel being away for another two hours along with Gabi sleeping and probably snoring heavily in her room, you would be good.

So you put some music on, a mix of The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey to get you in the perfect mood. But as you closed your eyes your imagination immediately ran wild and there was no stopping you.

You spread your legs and slowly ran a hand over your body, playing with your tits then softly pinching your hardened nipples. Then trailing it up and down your stomach before it lands on the waistband of your sweats.

You slipped your hand in and began by just tracing along your inner thigh, then went deeper. You led two fingers down to rub your clit, only a couple circles before going down and rubbing your slit over your panties.

Your arousal was already building up, and this blanket was helping a ton. You just imagined Miguel on top of you, not caring if he crushed you, just craving him above you. The way he'd be looking down at your eyes while he toyed with you. Had his way with you.

You needed him so desperately, his touch, his mouth, his fingers. Absolutely everything and anything he'd give you.

Your fingers made their way back up to your clit and you started rubbing faster circles against it while bucking your hips up, imagining it's Miguel's fingers.

A moan slipped past your lips and you tried your best to keep quiet as your fingers worked fairly against your bundle of nerves.

"Miguel-" you whispered before letting out a shaky breath as you held onto the blanket tightly with your left arm.

Just the thought of this big, smoking hot dilf climbing on top of you was almost enough to make you explode.

Fortunately your thoughts went broader than that.

Not only is he tall, and big but his cock would most definitely be the best thing you'd ever lay your eyes on. He'd be really thick and you'd probably struggle keeping him inside you.

He'd stretch you out to absolute perfect and you'd tighten around him so good he's be moaning out your name from how good your pussy feels.

You felt your slick seep through your panties and it only made you more relentless. You slipped your hand under your panties, and brought your two fingers to tease your hole.

You'd need the practice.

You dipped your fingers into your folds, just letting your fingers get soaked before finally slipping them both in making you whine.

You bite your lip to shut yourself up before slipping them in harshly, imagine that's how Miguel would fuck you. You feel yourself clench against your fingers as you start to fuck yourself immediately fast, needing him so fucking badly.

His cock would fill you up so good and you wouldn't mind if he came inside. You wouldn't want him to waste any of it.

You cover your mouth with the blanket let yourself moan into it, as you breathe him in with every inhale. You let out mumbled moans of just his name, as you start to fuck yourself harder, your immersion working better than ever tonight.

And it might've manifested into itself when you felt a gently tap on your shoulder which made you open your eyes, and freeze in fear.

It was Miguel.

"W-w-what are you d-doing back so e-early?!?" You ask as you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly.

But you couldn't seem to slip your fingers out. Unable to move and staring blankly ahead and not to your right as Miguel's body loomed over you.

"Finished what we needed to do faster than expected." He says and you could feel his gaze on you. It was hard to miss.

And you were growing more and more nervous by the second. "And this is what you're doing huh?" He whispers and it doesn't help your nerves at all but does make you clench against your fingers.

"I-I- I'm sorry-" you apologize feeling your body flush with embarrassment but get interrupted.

"A good hour before I was meant to come home too. Que pensaste?" He snarls and you hold your breath. (what were you thinking?)

Shit.

"Aww and gripping this poor blanket for dear life." He says in that teasing tone but you don't have it in you to look at him.

"No me lo esperaba de ti." He whispers and you take a deep breath. (I wasn't expecting this from you)

"P-perdón-" (S-sorry)

"Shh stay quiet..." he whispers and see him going down to his knees out of your peripheral.

"Let me appreciate you in some other way for what you've done for me tonight." He murmurs softly in your ear.

He then brings a hand down between your legs, before placing his hand on top of yours, fingers still buried inside you. Your lip was quivering and you couldn't believe this was happening.

And you're not dreaming.

He then pulls it away only to slip it under your sweats then panties before sliding his fingers between your folds. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, always a needy mess.

"What did I stay? Stay quiet." He coos in your ear, bringing his other hand up to your throat, lightly squeezing.

You finally turn your head to look at him only to smile at him before he leans in to kiss you. You kissed back immediately and he lets go of your throat and instead cups your jaw as you moan into his mouth. He pulls away making you pout, "No hagas que me repita nena." He whispers and you nod. (Don't make me repeat myself baby girl)

"Take your fingers out for me." He whispers and you nod, immediately listening.

You slip your fingers out and take them out between your legs. "Good girl." He murmurs and move his fingers down, teasing your hole with the tip of his finger.

"Miguel- fuck-" you moan then cover your mouth with the blanket again.

"Need more?" He coos and you whimper, nodding.

"Tell me." He whispers and you move your hand away.

"Please- I need you so fucking badly- por favor, te necesito- mmm te necesito tanto Miguel." You plead and he slides his fingers inside you. (Please I need you, I need you so much)

"Feel good huh baby?" He asks and you nod, unable to speak as his fingers start pumping into you fast.

You clamp a hand over your already covered mouth and try your hardest to keep quiet but his fingers filled you up. Two fingers, were able to feel fulfilling inside you.

"Estas tan hermosa mami." He whispers in your ear and you let out a muffled whimper, your walls clenching against his fingers. (You're so beautiful)

He left gentle kisses along your jaw, and neck while pumping his fingers faster and harder. You rolled your eyes back as you kept quiet, or tried to.

You bucked your hips up and tilted your head to the side as Miguel began sucking on your skin, leaving marks then kissing them after. Your walls clenched against your fingers and you could feel that familiarity in your lower abdomen.

"Te vas a quedar bien calladita para mi verdad?" He whispers making you gasp and nod. (You're gonna stay real quiet for me right?)

He starts fucking into you harder and curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot of yours with every thrust as you feel your legs begin to shake. Your eyes began to flutter and you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to how he'd react to you cumming.

You then feel his thumb rubbing fast circles against your clit which only makes it harder for you to stay quiet. You bit your lips and held all your moans in as your climax hit and your entire body starts to shake. You covered your mouth and breathed heavily as he fucked you slower, moving his thumb away.

You close your eyes and let out heavy pants as he stops and lets his fingers stay inside. "You did so good baby... how's that instead of money?" He whispered and you just gave him a drunken smile unable to have any thoughts.

"Still gonna leave you with both." He coos and kisses your cheek softly.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, then slips them out your juices dripping down and definitely staining your poor panties even more.

He slips his fingers out of your panties and sweats and then brings them up to your mouth which you instantly put into your mouth. You tasted yourself as your eyes fluttered and your breathing finally had calmed down.

You then let go of his fingers with a plop and he leans in, kissing you again but passionately. Tongue in your mouth, also wanting to have a taste of you. After a solid fifteen seconds he pulls away and murmurs, "Thank you for babysitting again. If you want you can stay the night, te ves muy cansada... pobrecita." (you look so tired, poor girl)

[gabigabigabby]

cristiano's daughter | j. félix

joão félix x ronaldo!footballer!reader

synopsis: joão steals your celebration as his way of telling you that goal was yours

a/n: plot is set during the euro qualifier game against luxembourg in march where he did that celebration with his arms crossed (ifykyk). joão is barça player bc it's perfect for this plot and y/n is barça femeni player. again, perfect for the plot. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 700++ FOLLOWERS, ik it's bee a while since i was on here but i really do appreciate all the love you give on my works 🥹🥹 so enjoy this one!

content/warnings: fluffy as hell, y/n taking a promise extremely seriously, dialogue in portuguese and spanish, eva and mateo being the cutest twin siblings ever, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! 💫

🎵 streaming: infrunami - steve lacy

—

"papá nos estamos mirando. devuélvenos el saludo." gio begins talking, but you were in your football la-la-land.

i could've done a bicycle kick yesterday, you thought. it could've been my match.

don't you just love it? being in your own thoughts for the 500th time today. sense the sarcasm? "y/n," gio catches your attention, snapping you out of your head. "joão te busca, cariño." [dad is looking for us, wave back. joão is looking for you, sweetheart.]

your eyes run all over the pitch before landing on the squad, joão the second to last guy in the line-up. he sends you a wave, grinning to himself when he sees you facing him. he'd never know if you were making eye contact or not; he was just happy you were there. you wave back at him, not even bothering to hide your smile from your stepmother.

"estoy feliz de que estés feliz. y tienes suerte porque es un chico lindo," gio winks before you both share a laugh; something you missed sharing with georgina. because of your tight schedule and the fact that you play football in spain and don't live in riyadh with your parents and siblings, you'd missed out every single important thing that's happened in the ronaldo house. eva and mateo's sixth birthday, alana's first day of school, bella's first steps, junior joining the al-nassr academy. everything. "¿sabes lo que significa? bebés lindos." [i'm happy you're happy. and you're lucky because he's a cute boy. and you know what that means? cute babies.]

"mamá!" you try to stop gio from going any further. because babies? aren't you too young to be thinking about children right now? your career at barcelona had only begun to skyrocket, and joão had only recently began his season stint at the club. children and settling down should be the last thing on both your minds. although every now and then, you can't help but think about it. would you and joão last long enough for children of your own in the future? "i'm only 22." you mutter under your breath, soft enough for gio to completely miss it.

the referee's whistle snaps you out of your own thoughts — a place you'd often find yourself in when you're out of the pitch. you were worried about the fact that joão barely got to feel the ball. especially after he promised you he'd give you a strike tonight.

"no, i promise," his voice lingers around you from hours ago. "i'll make sure i get the ball, and it's yours, querida. eu prometo." [i promise]

well, he promised — and promises stick with you like gorilla glue. even at the ripe old age of 22, you still believe in pinky promises the way georgina still believes in romance movies. that's besides the point.

it was up till the point after your dad was awarded a penalty. he took it, it went in, your dad is a worldwide legend, blah blah blah. you knew it was bound to happen everytime portugal play. the game was inching up to 14 minutes as your legs begin to bounce nervously. what made it worse was that mateo was on your lap when it happened.

"querida, why are your legs shaking?" mateo's neck cranes to look at you. all you could give him was a weak smile.

"nothing, 'zinho. just nervous for papai like all of us, né?" you answer, hoping mateo will take it and leave it alone.

"you're nervous for joão." if there's one thing you could curse about mateo, it's how close he is to you, even though you no longer live with your family. on his day, mateo would feel lonely — even though he's a twin — and ask gio to facetime you. most of the time, he'd catch you at the right time; driving back home from training, going out for lunch with joão on an off day. and sometimes you wouldn't pick up, occupied with training for the upcoming game that week.

mateo would never fail to call you at least twice a month, understanding how tight your schedule is and that he has to leave you alone sometimes, afraid you'd be exhausted after a long day of training. sometimes you'd give him a call too, missing your queridinho on your day.

"não somos todos?" you nervously chuckle, your hands were resting on mateo's lap, its fingers slowly picking at your cuticles. [aren't we all?]

"si, but you're stressed," mateo pouts. "joão told me you made him promise to score tonight. and you know what, y/n? i hope he scores too." he gives you his typical mateo smile; the absolute sweetest thing you could ever see.

not even a mere few seconds later, a cross from bernardo comes in. you try to anticipate which portugal boy it'd reach. you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding when you see the ball making immediate contact with joão's head, as he nicks the ball in past the luxembourg goalkeeper.

the crowd was anticlimactic, though, you'd have to say. there is a totally valid reason for it. is joão offside or not? the referee blows his whistle, giving the goal to portugal as they now lead the game 2-0. you carefully picked mateo up as you stand, the boy's arms in the air as he celebrates the allowed goal from his hermano. you watch as joão turns to the grandstand your family is situated at.

you can only assume he's looking at you at that point, but gio turns to face you and mateo to state the obvious. "el te esta mirando!" gio screams in a whispery manner. you'd only assumed that, but you were wearing the white portugal away kit, allowing joão to identify you clear as day from the pitch compared to the rest of your family who were clad in black winter coats. you agree, the weather is a bit nippy in luxembourg.

joão looks you dead in the eye — or you assume — and crosses his arms. you immediately realise what it meant, smiling to yourself as your dad, bruno and bernardo begin to crowd him and give him words of congratulations on the smooth yet second nature goal of his.

you wait till after the game, where they defeat luxembourg 6-0 to regroup with joão and cristiano. cris, before anything, would engulf gio and bella first, giving joão full leeway to reach for you first. "did you see?!" the taste of excitement is still sweet and prominent on joão's tongue when he speaks.

"i saw! my celebration at barça. thief." you joke, pushing a fist into his bicep playfully.

"amo-te, linda. obrigado por estar aqui." joão smiles, not hesitating to squish your face into his chest. [i love you beautiful, thank you for being here]

"eu vim buscar o papai, mas tudo bem." you shrug jokingly before finding yourself in your papai's arms and listening to him thank you for coming to a portugal game — an away game, no less. [i came for dad, but okay]

[joelsgreys]

bailé con mi ex l (javier peña x female reader)

summary: After a night out at the club with your friends, you confess to Javier that you danced with your ex-boyfriend and he doesn’t take the news too well.

pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

warnings: 18+ only, minors dni. Protective, jealous and slightly possessive Javi, he is a lil toxic, but just a smidge I promise; innocent-ish reader; angst, bits of fluff sprinkled in here and there. Not proofread for spelling, sorry!

word count 2.2k

a/n 📝 wooo, Vee finally popped her Javi cherry. testing the waters with this one, I also have a couple prompts from a while back to still write. it is based on a Becky G song, yes I know she and this song did not exist back in the day (I think? Idk what year she was born tbh) but ANYWAY I just really like the lyrics and plus it’s fiction so who cares lmao. Translations at the end ✨

Tú no me creerás, pensarás que hay algo más

es difícil de entenderlo, pero no sería capaz de enganãrte

y si te lo cuento

es porque tengo muy claro lo que siento

It was half past one o’ clock in the morning—you had told Javier you’d be home by midnight at the very latest. But a night out at one of the more popular clubs in Bogotá celebrating a close friend’s birthday meant that none of the girls were going to allow you to leave that early without giving you some kind of shit about it, so you had stayed just a little while longer and tossed back another drink or two before finally calling it a night. Your friends still gave you grief about it, but knowing Javier, he would be worried, especially since cartel violence in the region had begun to escalate over the last several months, worsening to the point where Javi didn’t even like you going out to the produce market all by yourself in broad daylight.

You tried to be as quiet as possible as you pulled your keys out from your purse, fumbling around with them in the dark until you’d finally found the right one to unlock the front door of yours and Javier’s shared apartment. You slipped inside and the moment that you did, the lights flipped on, causing you to whirl around and let out a startled little yelp. 

You turned to see Javier standing there, fully dressed in his jeans and a tight red button up shirt with his set of car keys clutched in hand. “Javi,” You breathed out his name as your hand flew to your chest. You shot him a glare. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me! What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed—do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Javier retorted, raising an eyebrow at you. Part of him seemed to be upset, but the other part of him seemed more relieved than anything. He tossed his keys down onto the small, hallway table and walked over to you, taking your face between his large hands as he kissed your forehead. He let his lips linger on your skin as he reminded you, “You told me you would be home by midnight, amor. You can’t tell me that and then come home almost two hours later. You know how bad things are out there right now. You could have at least called me to let me know you’d be late.”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just that the girls were shoving shot glass after shot glass right into my hands and time just got away from me,” You said, placing both of your hands right over his. Your eyes met his dark brown ones and you flashed him a sincere, apologetic look. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t mean to make you worry, Javi.”

He sighed. “Well, you’re home safe now. That’s all that matters to me.” Javier dropped his hands from your face and led you into the living room. “Can I get you anything, baby? Are you thirsty?”

“Actually, I’d love a glass of water,” You admitted, kicking off your black, high heeled shoes before dropping down onto the supple, brown leather couch. You watched him as he padded over into the kitchen. “I didn’t get as drunk as I thought I would, you know.” You added jokingly, “I think my tolerance for tequila is through the roof now.”

Javi laughed as he pulled a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets; he then filled it with water from the jug he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “But you still had fun, right?”

“God, I had so much fun,” You told him with a grin. “I danced all night, Javi.”

“With who?” He’d asked the question casually, but you could detect the seriousness behind it. 

Your smile faded slightly.

At first, you hadn’t planned to tell him. But Javier was the love of your life, and you would never dare to keep any kind of secret from him.

Still, you knew he wouldn’t be all too happy with what you were about to confess.

Javier walked back over to you, handing you the glass of water. He frowned, noticing the hesitant expression on your face. “What is it?” He placed his hands on his hips, peering at you curiously. “You didn’t dance with any guys, did you?”

“Just one,” You admitted, softly. 

Javier froze a moment, his shoulders going rigid. 

“What?” Through gritted teeth, he demanded to know, “Who?”

The moment your ex boyfriend’s name fell from your lips, the color drained from Javier’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Setting the glass down on the table beside the couch, you quickly jumped up and held up your hands in defense. “Wait a minute, before you get mad about it, just let me explain—”

“What the hell is there to explain?” Javier nearly growled at you. “That you went to some nightclub and danced with another man? One who happens to be your fucking ex-boyfriend? Es en serio?”

You went up to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Javi, please. Just wait one second—”

He snatched his arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

Your heart sank and you backed away. “Really? You’re not even going to let me explain myself?”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Javier replied coolly. His eyes flickered up and down, giving you a quick once over from head to toe. “I would have never thought that you would be such a—”

Javier stopped himself, knowing all too damn well that he was far too angry to think clearly before letting anything come out of his mouth.

But it was too late.

He could see the hurt that flashed in your eyes. 

“Such a what?” You crossed your arms over your chest, the blood in your veins running frigid. You then raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “Such a whore?”

“I didn’t say fucking that,” he muttered, averting your gaze.

Blinking back the tears that burned your eyes, you roughly shoved past him and went straight into the bathroom. Trembling, you began looking for a clean washcloth so that you could start taking off your makeup.

The sound of the front door slamming violently just a minute or two later caused you to wince.

Certain that Javier was gone, you sank down onto the cold white tile and began to sob.

A couple of hours later into the early morning, you were sitting on your bed in nothing but one of Javier’s shirts. 

You had cried and cried, releasing your emotions until your eyes had gone dry.

You’d hoped Javier would come right back home and talk things out with you, but by the time four o’ clock rolled around, you had given up on that hope. Letting out an exhausted sigh, you were just about to reach out and switch off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed when you heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing. 

You swallowed harshly as the sound of his footsteps approaching drew closer and closer.

Javier walked into the bedroom, looking surprised to see you sitting there, still awake at this hour. He spoke in a cold tone that let you know he was still upset with you. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

Even from where he stood, you could smell the heavy stench of cigarettes and scotch all over him.

“I was waiting up for you,” You murmured, quietly.

Javier kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and let out a long sigh. He said nothing else to you as he kicked off his tan boots and began shrugging out of his shirt, tossing it aside.

“Where were you?” You asked him, your small voice breaking through the silence. 

“I needed a drink,” he responded curtly with his back to you.

“We have drinks here, you know.”

“Yeah, well I needed something a lot stronger than what we’ve got.”

Finally, Javier had no choice but to turn around and face you.

The second he did, a fresh tear slipped down the side of your face.

Javier’s stomach sank deeply and the expression on his face immediately softened.

“Bebe—”

You lifted both your hands to your mouth, muffling a broken sob.

“Hell, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he walked over, taking a seat beside you on the bed. He reached for your wrists, gently tugging them away from your face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset at you, alright?”

“Do you really think that of me? Do you think that I’m a—?” You’d said the word once, but couldn’t find it in yourself to utter it again.

“Of course I don’t, mi vida. I was just angry, I wasn’t even thinking.” He paused, noticing the way you were trembling and reached up to cradle the side of your face in his palm. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second. Wouldn’t you be angry at me if I came home from a late night at the club and told you I had danced with one of my exes?”

“Probably,” You admitted, feeling the envy boil in your lower belly as you thought about him holding another woman in his arms. “But I would have at least given you the chance to explain yourself. I mean, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, Javi?”

Javier opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut.

He’d fucked up.

“Well?” You prompted him. “Answer me, Javier. Have I ever done anything to make you think that you can’t trust me?”

“No.” His hand dropped from your face. He spoke again, guilt lacing his tone. “You’ve never given me one single reason not to trust you.”

You let out a small, shaky sigh and brought your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “He was at the club with his friends tonight,” You began to explain to him. You noticed the way Javier stiffened slightly; although you knew he didn’t want to hear about how you had danced with your ex-boyfriend, you decided to continue on anyway. He needed to know. “He came up to me and he said hello. We had a drink together and then he asked me to dance with him.” Unable to help yourself, you let out a small breathy chuckle. “We danced to quite a few songs, actually. It was just like old times.”

Javier’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

Before he could say anything, you lifted one of your own hands to stop him. “He was a great guy, Javier. We had a good relationship, but it just didn’t work out. It wasn’t meant to be. When we broke up, it was amicable and we wished each other best and now, a couple years later, we both have the best. He’s with someone he loves and I’m with someone that I love too.” You offered him a tiny, watery smile. “I don’t have eyes or space in my heart for anyone else but you, Javier. Seeing him again and dancing with him tonight made me realize that I would never even dare to think about jeopardizing our relationship. I love you more than anything, and I would never do anything to betray you.” 

He stared at you, mouth agape.

Oh, he’d definitely fucked up.

Before meeting you, Javier had never been the kind of man to do relationships—because he’d never known how to do relationships. 

Before you’d walked into his life, all Javier knew was meaningless sex with escorts and informants, one night stands with coworkers—regardless of who he fucked, he had always been able to walk away the following morning without any sort of attachment. It’s what he wanted, or at least, it’s what he’d thought he wanted. 

And then Javier met you. 

You weren’t the type of woman who he’d normally set his sights on. You didn’t walk around almost naked like half the women in Colombia, you didn’t smoke, you rarely ever even cursed and only drank when your friends pressured you into it—you had this kind of sweet innocence written all over you, and normally Javier would never look twice at a woman like you because a woman like you looked for a boyfriend; not a fuck buddy and certainly not a one night stand.

Javier Peña had never been boyfriend material. 

He didn’t know how to be in a relationship.

At least not a healthy one. 

Even now, he struggled to be the partner that you deserved. He met your physical needs without a single problem, but your emotional needs were something of a challenge for him. Still, Javi loved you with every fiber of his entire being and he was more than willing to keep on trying to be the man you needed him to be in every way possible. 

“I’m sorry,” Javier murmured again after a while. He reached out, placing his hand on your bare thigh. “I am so sorry, baby. Perdoname, preciosa. Please.”

You placed your hand on top of his, giving him another little smile. “Of course I forgive you, Javi.”

Relieved, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. As he began to deepen the kiss, his hands reached out, tugging at the hem of his shirt were wearing.

“Javi, it’s four in the morning,” You giggled against his lips.

Javier chuckled. He pushed you back against the pillows and swung his leg over to climb on top of you. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

“True,” You grinned up at him before pulling him down towards you for another kiss.

;Translations

lyrics:

You might not believe me, you’ll think there’s something more

it’s difficult to understand, but I could never betray you

if I’m telling you this, it’s because I know exactly how I feel

fic:

amor - love

es en serio? - are you serious?

bebe - baby

mi vida - my life

perdoname, preciosa - forgive me, precious girl

[thinkwosolife23]

Reputation Part 2, Alexia Putellas

You didn't ever anticipate playing against your sister. But here you were, currently flying from Barcalona to London for the first leg of the Champion's League Quarter Final. There were 7 teams that you could've faced but it had to be Arsenal. But facing Arsenal meant multiple things; not only were you facing your childhood club, you also had to face your past - you had to face Katie again.

These past few months had been better than you could've ever imagined. You grew up at Arsenal: you held such a love for the club and nothing would ever change that. But Barcalona gave you a different sense of belonging, like you were a piece of their jigsaw. Like they cherished you for you and not for being Leah Williamson's little sister.

Barcalona were currently sat at the top of the league as well as being in the quarter finals of the Champions League, you wanted to retain both of those titles with the club.

In terms of your personal career: you were improving everyday and your hard work was paying off. At 24, you had just placed 2nd in the rankings for the Ballon D'or. Your club teammate, Aitana Bonmatí had took the top spot.

And then there was Alexia.

She was a dream. She continued to impress you day by day, the world had tossed you the most beautiful, kind and caring soul you could've ever imagined. You didn't know what you did to deserve her.

Since that conversation at the club, you and Alexia had gone on so many different dates. Ranging from movie night on the sofa to picnics on the beach to resturant dinners. You spent weeks trying to prove that you only wanted her, you only needed her.

So, you asked her to be your girlfriend on New years eve.

Flashback……. 31st December 2023

You and Alexia had been apart over the christmas week. Her staying in spain with her mum and sister and you going back to England to be with your family.

Your flight had landed quite late in the afternoon, and Alexia was none the wiser that you were back in Barcalona.

The plan you had to ask Alexia to be your girlfriend was all ready to go.

Mapi had got Alexia to the beach just as you had asked. And now you had just go to said beach. You could see her on the beach just looking at the sunset and the sea. You had gotten Alexia a promise ring whilst back in England and it was currently sat in the back pocket of your jeans.

You headed towards where Alexia was stood and wrapped your arms around her waist, causing her to jump at your touch, clearly not expecting it.

As soon as she turned around, she jumped into your hold; wrapping her legs around your waist and her arms around your neck.

"Tu espalda, te extrañé." (Your back, I missed you.)

"Yo también te extrañé, amor." You said whilst placing her back down on the ground. (I missed you too, love.)

"¿Por qué estamos en la playa?" She asked, confused. (Why are we on the beach?)

"Bueno, quería sorprenderte en algún lugar que ambos amáramos." (Well, I wanted to suprise you somewhere we both loved.)

And it's true, you and Alexia loved the beach. It was one of your favourite places to be together other than the football pitch. Obviously.

"Y quería preguntarte algo." You continued. (And I wanted to ask you something.)

"¿Pregúntame qué?" (Ask me what.)

You took a step back from Alexia and got down on one knee whilst grabbing the promise ring from your back pocket.

"¿No crees que es un poco pronto para esto?" Alexia laughed slightly. (Don't you think it's a bit early for this?)

"No te lo voy a proponer, todavía no." It was only then you realised what it look liked you were going to do. (I'm not proposing, not yet.)

"Oh."

"Es un anillo de promesa. No puedo prometer que no tendremos discusiones ni consecuencias. No puedo prometer que seré perfecto porque ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que hice todo esto. Pero puedo prometerte que siempre estaré a tu lado, siempre te respaldaré y trataré de protegerte. Quiero que seamos tú y yo contra el mundo. Quiero estar contigo y solo contigo. Entonces Alexia, ¿serás mi novia?" (It's a promise ring. I can't promise that we won't have arguements, or fallouts. I can't promise that i'll be perfect because it's a long time since i've done all this. But I can promise that i'll always be by your side, i'll always back you up and try to protect you. I want it to be me and you against the world. I want to be with you and only you. So Alexia, will you be my girlfriend?)

By this point, you were both shedding tears. But Alexia quickly nodded and put her hand out so you could put her promise ring on. She pulled you up and soon attached her lip to yours whilst wrapping her arms around your neck, yours going to her hips pulling her closer to you.

"Te amo." She told you, resting her forehead on yours. (I love you.)

"Yo tambien te amo hermosa" (I love you too, beautiful.)

Flashback Over.

And here you were now, heading towards the tunnel of the Emirates stadium to play your former team.

Your former teammates were already stood in the tunnel, as were some of your current teammates, waiting to head out onto the pitch. Before joining your own sqaud, you quickly went to the front of the Arsenal squad where your sister was stood.

Leah soon wrapped her arms around you, wishing you good luck and telling you that she would speak to you after the game, also letting you know that your mum and brother were in the crowd watching the pair of you.

Alexia was stood on the opposite side to Leah, as they were both captains. You gave her hand a squeeze before heading to the back of the Barcalona squad.

As you were heading back to your spot, you realised that Katie was the person opposite you on the Arsenal side.

It just had to be her didn't it.

"Long time, no see, Y/N" Katie said, with that stupid little smirk on her face.

"Fuck off, McCabe!" You snapped back at her before you were pulled away by Mapi who was stood in front of you.

As soon as you were in sight. The stadium was filled with boo's, the Arsenal fans clearly stating that they felt the betrayal of you leaving. You had expected it though: being there since you were little and then leaving, you knew not everyone would agree with that. Especially the fans.

You had to shut it all out, your focus needed to be on the game.

Arsenal's Starting 11:

GK - M. Zinsberger LB - S. Catley CB - L. Williamson (C) CB - L. Wubben-Moy RB - K. McCabe CDM - L. Walti CM - K. Little CM - F. Maanum LW - C. Foord ST - A. Russo RW - B. Mead

Barcalona Starting 11:

GK - S. Panos LB - O. Batlle CB - I. Paredes CB - M. Leon RB - L. Bronze CDM - K. Walsh CM - P. Guijarro CM - A. Bonmati LW - A. Putellas ST - Y/N Williamson RW - C. G. Hansen

In all honesty, Barcalona were all over Arsenal during the first half, managing to get two goals past the. You and Patri being the two goal scorers, Alexia assisting them both.

However, in the second half, the Arsenal players started to become a lot more reckless. Late challenges, shirt grabs, harsh elbows and pushes was becoming incredibly frequent. You and Alexia seemed to be on the recieving end of most of them.

You managed to contain your fustration, that was until Katie tackled Alexia in the box. It was a high tackle from behind, Katie's studs going straight into the back of Alexia's calf, sending her straight to the ground.

Most of your teammates quickly ran over to where Alexia was laying on the ground. But you went rushing over to where Katie was stood and gave her a harsh push.

"What was that?" You shouted, causing you and Katie to go face to face.

"Proteceting your flavour of the month, how sweet." Katie laughed, her irish voice appearing sarcastic.

"I don't blame you, though. She seems like the desperate type." She continued.

By this point, you had Katie by her collar. Your hands clamped on Katie's shirt. Members of both teams trying to pull the pair of you.

Leah managed to get inbetween you both, her body blocking you from getting to Katie.

"You need to drop it, Y/N." Her sister voice coming out, trying to calm you down.

It wasn't until you heard someone else's voice that you were pulled away.

"Oye mirarme. No estoy herido, ella sólo está intentando llegar a ti." Alexia told you calmly, her hand grabbing yours to walk off. (Hey, look at me. I'm not hurt, she's just trying to get to you.)

Alexia scored the penalty that was awarded for Katie's challenged. The rest of the game went all Barcalona's way.

It finished 4-0 with you managing to get yourself a brace. After speaking to some of you former teammates, you went to find Alexia. Your eyes softened when you saw where she was, her and Leah were talking and laughing about something. Two of your favourite peopel, that sight would never get old.

Over the few months you known Alexia, you had managed to teach her some English. She asked you teach her so she could talk to your family.

You headed over to where they were stood talking. You went up behind Alexia and wrapped your arms around her waist, before kissing her cheek. You felt her lean back into your hold, her hands resting over yours.

"Where's mum?" You asked, directing your question to Leah.

She pointed to just next to the Arsenal benches, you looked towards where she was pointing to see your Mum and brother.

You took yourself away from holding Alexia before grabbing her hand pulling her in the direction of your Mum and brother.

"¿A dónde vamos?" She questioned you hesitantly. (Where are we going?)

"Es hora de usar tu inglés, amor." (Time to use your english, love)

"¡Qué! Eliges después de un partido completo para que yo los conozca adecuadamente." (What! You pick after a full match for me to properly meet them.)

"Sí, ahora vamos." (Yeah, now come on.)

When you eventually got to your Mum and Jacob, you gave them both a hug before introducting Alexia.

"Mum, Jacob. This is Alexia, she's my girlfriend."

The three of them were extemely fast to jump into conversation. Alexia's english was better than you thought it was. Was there anything this girl couldn't do?

You left them to talk, as you and Leah went around the stadium together.

"You love her, don't you." She asked you, the look on her face telling she already knew what the answer was going to be.

"I really do, Le." Your gaze followed straight to where Alexia was still talking to your Mum and brother.

"I'm sure there's worse sister in laws in the world." She chuckled to herself.

"I'm gonna marry her." You told her confidently.

"You down that bad, huh."

"She's my person, Leah."

[moon-rivr]

(i decided to mix these two together so i hope the individual anons don’t mind 😓)

el cocinero

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: reader’s white (miguel calls her guera), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, smut 🥸

author’s note: honestly had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you all enjoy <3

word count: 4.3K

You had the pleasure of meeting your boss, Miguel O'Hara, two weeks after you had joined the Spider Society on the day before Christmas. You had gotten up in the middle of the night after watching a recipe to make flan on your phone, wanting to try it out as soon as possible since your mouth couldn't help but water the more you thought about making it. Your footsteps echoed through the empty halls, given that most of the other spiders had gone to their respective universes to spend time with their family, and you headed towards the kitchen. You put on a apron and gave yourself a little pep talk that you wouldn't end up burning the kitchen down as you started collecting the items from the recipe.

You propped your phone up against the microwave and turned on the volume, assured by the fact that the chances of someone walking in were close to zero. You washed your hands and preheated the oven, listening to the woman explaining the steps in spanish. As you opened up the bag of sugar, a huge cloud puffed up and coated your face white, giving you a bad start already. You wiped away some of the sugar and started mixing the custard, feeling pretty good about your chances. However, after a little while you started to lose track of what the woman was saying, and you started to get upset that you didn't have the same results she did.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the smoke alarm blaring in the kitchen, reminding you that you had left the oven on. You quickly rushed to turn it off, coughing as you waved off a huge cloud of smoke. You sat down in front of the sink, trying to think about where you went wrong in your recipe before you discarded away the custard. You let the video continue playing, almost like a form of punishing yourself for getting the recipe wrong as the woman continued to explain how to get the perfect texture. You put your head in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks as you thought about how stupid you were to think that you could do this.

Your head shot up when you heard the cafeteria door open, surprised to hear someone else up at this time. "Shock, it smells horrible in here," a male voice muttered and you quickly wiped away your tears to make out the figure criticizing your cooking. A tall man you didn't recognize walked in wearing a white tee and plaid sleeping pants, rubbing his eyes as he took the scene in front of him. "What were you trying to make?" he asked, looking over at your discarded custard in the sink as his nose scrunched from the remnants of the smoke. "Flan.."

"Ay, guera. ¿Porque haces esto si ni entiendes lo que esta diciendo?" He remarked, his eyes shifting over to the tutorial of the woman. (why do you do this if you don’t even know what she’s saying?) You wanted to tell him that you didn't fail because of your lack of understanding about the language, but rather because you just sucked in the kitchen. But you decided to keep your mouth quiet and nod along, not wanting to give away your cards just yet. "Alright, given the fact that it's Christmas, I'll help you out and whatnot. Only if you promise never to try this atrocity in my kitchen again," he offered, turning around to look at you. "Your kitchen?" You asked, a brow raised as you took in the man's appearance.

"Miguel O’Hara. Though I shouldn't need to tell you who I am since I'm the leader here. Nice to meet you though," he clarified, extending his hand out. Your eyes widened as you started piecing it together, but what you didn't understand why this 'cold' and 'unapproachable' man was offering to help you with something so stupid. You shook his hand and told him your name, his eyes lighting up in recognition. "Jessica recruited you, right? I meant to introduce myself earlier but I got busy, you know how it is. Is everything up to your liking so far?" He responds, though his tone sounded like he could care less if you were actually finding things okay here. "It's been good so far, everyone's really nice."

When he offered to help, you were expecting him to have a little more patience with teaching you. "That's not how you break the damn egg! You'll end up making a mess. A ver, let me do it," he grumbled after watching you struggle with an egg for the past two minutes. You scooted over and allowed for him to take the egg, the small thing almost disappearing in his hands. Despite all that, he seemed to handle the egg with some expert level of delicacy as he cracked it, pouring the yolk into the custard mix. Despite the woman talking in the background, the way he whispered to himself and mixed things made you believe that it was from memory.

The rest of the cooking session was spent in silence, though Miguel seemed to slow down his movements just so you'd see what was happening. You were a bit confused when you noticed him adding vanilla which wasn't in the recipe, your brows furrowing a bit as you leaned over the mixing bowl. "That wasn't in the recipe," you murmured, looking back over to the woman to confirm. "You're seriously gonna listen to the recipe over me? I mean, you don't even understand what she's saying," he responds, letting out an amused chuckle as he starts stirring the mix together. You felt yourself growing more and more annoyed at his assumption that you didn't understand anything that the woman was saying but you pursed your lips and simply watched him. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It just tastes better with the vanilla, trust me."

"Where'd you learn how to make this?" You asked curiously as his movements stopped and his shoulder tensed up. It was quiet for a moment, he looked like he was going through some stuff in his head before he cleared his throat. "It was my daughter's favorite pastry so I put my pride aside and asked my mom for the recipe," he responded hesitantly, like it pained him to talk about it. You figured he probably had some trauma stemming from his family issues so you decided to ask what you deemed safe. "Was? Did she move on to tres leches or something?" You pondered, his nose flaring as he started back up with his mixing. "I'm just here so you won't burn down the building, not here to be your friend."

You only spoke up once more after that and that was to thank him for the piece of flan as you sat down at one of the cafeteria tables. You'd expected it for it to be good with the way he dedicated himself into making it, but you weren't expecting for the flavors to melt in your tongue as soon as you took a bite. You'd had store bought flan before but they would never compare again to what Miguel had made, it wasn't too wet but it wasn't too dry either. Miguel finished up with cleaning up the kitchen and wiping away the surfaces before leaving, not bothering to give you a second glance. You were confused as to why he didn't bother having a slice of what he made but you didn't dwell too much on it and continued to eat the flan.

You were convinced that you'd ruined the possibility of developing a friendship with your boss, so you kept your head down and stuck beside Jessica in the missions during the following week. You were surprised to hear your watch buzz at the same time as last week, a message from Miguel calling you over to kitchen. You were reluctant to go since you felt like you'd touched on something painful to him, but you pushed those thoughts aside and headed to the cafeteria. You walked in to see that Miguel was preparing the kitchen and humming along to the cumbia playing on his phone. You tapped on his shoulder and he visibly startled, his shoulders tensing up before he turned around to look at you. "Sorry, I thought you would've sensed me coming in," you told him as his shoulders relax a bit at the realization that it was just you.

You were in the middle of putting on your apron when Miguel walked behind you, tying the strings together. How'd he managed to do that with his big ass hands baffled you, but you realized you couldn't say anything about since you weren't at the teasing point with him. "I’m sorry for the way I treated you last week, by the way. You touched on something I don't really like talking about but that's not an excuse," he told you, catching you off guard with his apology. "It's okay. I shouldn't have been so nosy about it," you reassured him, turning around to face him once he finished tying up your apron.

The two of you made arroz con leche that night and it was overall a pretty good cooking lesson given that things were less tense after he'd apologized. (rice pudding) He sat next to you in the cafeteria, talking to you about the anomaly he had to face today before he went quiet. You noticed that he seemed conflicted, but you didn't want to threaten your delicate friendship forming. "Gabriella wasn't my daughter, not technically. She's the daughter of a variant of myself and i took the role of being her father after hers died. She gave me a home when I really needed it but all I did was destroy hers," he spoke up, his voice coming out a bit shakier than he'd intended it to. You couldn't think of anything to really say to that, you felt like 'I'm sorry' was too cheap for what he was dealing with, so you pressed your hand on his shoulder and started rubbing small circles. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you Miguel."

The following week, Miguel decided on teaching you how to make chocolate chip cookies, something simple but delicious. As he mixed the batter, you couldn't help but notice how his brows furrowed in concentration, clearly still stressed from how the mission today had gone. You decided to help him de-stress by flicking a bit of powder on his face, watching as he blinked away the flour. "Did you ju-" he started off but was quickly interrupted as you blew a bunch of powder onto his face. "Pinche guera, you're gonna get it," he warned you and you took it as a signal to run away from him before you ended up doused in flour as well.

You miscalculated just how fast he was, given that he had you pinned against the wall in a matter of seconds. Your eyes widened as you saw you the bag of flour he had in his hand and the devilish smirk on his face. "Please, please. I'm sorry, I won't do that again," you pleaded with him, his finger coming up to push a strand of hair away. "Aw, you look so pretty when you beg, guerita," he cooed and you couldn't help but feel your cheeks flush up. "You really think so, Mig?" You teased him back despite how flustered you were at his words. Your breathing quickened up when he knelt down a little, his mouth barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Yeah, but you'd look so much prettier covered in flour." His words didn't register in your brain until he raised the bag of flour, dumping it over your head despite your protests.

Even though it had taken you half an hour to wash off all the flour from your hair, you couldn't help but lay down in your bed with a huge smile on your face that night. Miguel had grown from someone that you feared even coming in contact with after all the rumors you'd heard to someone you longed to spend every weekend with. Your happiness was quickly diminished as you thought what he would think about you knowing Spanish, if he would think that you were purposefully misdirecting him. After a while of thinking about all the outcomes from the reveal and none of them being positive, you decided to fall asleep and try to forget about it.

The two of you continued with your cooking sessions weekly after that, making it a part of your daily routine. He'd started to engage in your jokes and even adding to them, even going so far as to being more flirty with you, a much more relaxed version of himself than that he portrayed with everyone else at HQ. The two of you had agreed on making pasta this weekend and it was going pretty good, given that nothing had burnt down yet and the smell of oregano filled the kitchen. You were busy monitoring the pasta on the stove that you didn't notice Miguel had moved up behind you to check on the progress as well. Your chest brushed up against his as you turned around, his head dipping down to look at you as you did. Your eyes traveled from his eyes down to his lips and you took notice of just how kissable they looked, how plump and inviting they seemed.

You leaned in slowly, giving Miguel the chance to back off if he wanted to but he simply put his hands on your hips to pull you closer as his lips collided against yours. The kiss was nothing short of sensual, it felt like all the pressure that'd been building up during these cooking sessions had finally been released into this. Your hands gripped onto his shirt as you pulled him closer, his tongue moving so perfectly against yours. You two were pulled out of your trance when the alarm behind you rang, alerting you that the pasta had finished cooking. You hesitantly pulled away, looking up to see that Miguel had a conflicted look on his face. "I shouldn't have done that, it was mistake. I'm sorry," was all that he told you before he shut down for the night and focused on the task in front of him.

Miguel avoided you like the plague after that, he didn't bother acknowledging you around HQ anymore and he always paired you with someone up for missions. You couldn't help but feel a combination of anger and hurt brewing up inside you the more time that he spent avoiding you. Hurt, that he'd dismissed one of the best kisses that you'd had as a 'mistake'. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Jessica walked up to you, talking to you in one of the few moments that she had free. "Girl, did you hear? Apparently Miguel got injured in his mission today," she confided in you, speaking in hushed whispers so the other spiders wouldn't overhear. "What happened?" You asked curiously, your heart aching a bit at the thought of him being hurt. "He's been acting off recently these past couple days, like something's troubling him."

You decided to try out the empanada recipe that Miguel had shared you in an earlier session to cheer him up since he'd confided in you that it was his favorite pastry. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride once you finished, given that they actually tasted pretty good and the kitchen was intact. You hesitated for a little bit once you got to his room, pacing in the hallway as you debated on leaving. You pushed those thoughts away and knocked on his door, biting down on your bottom lip as you waited for a response. Miguel came out with a bandaid over his nose and you couldn't help but let out a small giggle as you saw the Hello Kitty design. "Did you come here just of make fun of my bandaid?" His gruff voice interrupted you out of your thoughts and you pulled out the tupperware holding the empanadas. "I thought these might make you feel better."

"Wait, you actually made these?" He asked, clearly impressed as he took a bite out of one. "I did, yeah. Figured you might need them and I guess I also wanted to take the opportunity to tell you that we should stop our cooking sessions. They've been great and all, but seeing as how I can make stuff without burning the kitchen down, I don't need to bother you anymore," you told him and you had expected him to be more excited at the prospect of finally having the weekends to himself, but you were only met with him furrowing his brows. "Ay guerita. Nunca eras un molestia para mí. No tienes ni la menor idea de cuanto me atormentas durante el día. Cuánto pienso en poder besarte otra vez. Y lo peor es que ni me entiendes cuando te digo que estoy tan enamorado de ti," he told you, completely surprising you with this admission and you decided to take this opportunity to finally be open with him. (you were never a bother to me. you have no idea how much you torment me during the day. how much i think about kissing you again. and the worst thing is that you don’t even understand when i tell how you how much i love you)

"Si te entiendo, Miguel. Tu eres lo que traigo en el pensamiento todos los dias, hasta cuando duermo. Yo tambien estoy tan enamorada contigo," you responded, watching as his eyebrows flew to his hairline, clearly surprised at hearing you speak so fluently. (i do understand you miguel. you are what i carry in my thoughts every day, even when i sleep. i’m so in love with you too) "I thought you didn't understand me.." He muttered, clearly taken back by what you'd just said. "No, you assumed that I didn't understand you when we first met. Which makes sense based on my appearance, I guess," you replied with a small shrug, taking a bite from one of the empanadas. "But how?" he pondered, looking over at you as he tried to piece it all together. "I'm a hyperpolyglot, Spanish’s just one of the languages I know."

"Dime otra vez," Miguel asked of you as you two laid in his bed together, his hand playing with your hair. (tell me again) "Estoy tan enamorada de ti Miguel," you whispered, your hand on his cheek as you kissed him. (i am so in love with you miguel.) Miguel quickly moved down in between your legs, taking off your pants in a swift motion and started kissing up your calves. "What about your injury?" you asked him, looking down at him as he planted open-mouthed kisses up your leg. "I'll be fine," he assured you, going back to what he was doing before. You felt your slick dripping down to your panties as he kissed on your thighs, purposely avoiding where you needed him most. Miguel let out a small chuckle as he saw the wet patch on your underwear, hooking his fingers on the waistband before sliding them down tentatively.

"Such a pretty pussy," he whispered, looking directly at your eyes as he started kissing your bikini area. His mouth eventually moved to your folds, collecting all the slick that had gathered up and let out a small moan in response. Your hands gripped tightly onto his hair as he started eating you out with a vigor that you'd never faced before, tasting you like you were water in the desert. The noises that were filling up the room were downright filthy, his name coming out your mouth in broken moans and the way that he slurped at your pussy, unable to get enough. He held your hips down as you started to squirm, your legs shaking from how good his tongue was making you feel. "Look at me while I please you," he told you in a such a sharp tone that you couldn't help but look down at him as he continued to eat you out, your eyes locking straight onto his.

He held down your legs with one hand and slowly plunged two fingers inside of you, feeling your cunt tighten up around them. His mouth connected to your clit as he started to suck on the neglected nub, his tongue flicking at it. He let out a small groan as your juices dribbled down his lips, the vibrations from it making your back arch up from the bed. "Right there, Miguel. Yes, making me feel so good!" you moaned out, not paying any regard that any spider could pass by and hear you. He curled his fingers upward, finding your g-spot within seconds and made it a point to hit it every time he plunged inside of you once again. He could tell by the way that your clit throbbed against his tongue and by the way that you were gripping his hair that you were close, his movements now more determined towards getting you towards that peak. Your cunt squeezed against his fingers as the coil inside of you unraveled, coming undone on his face.

You'd think that he enjoyed this more than you did, frankly, with the way that he licked his lips and the huge tent in his sweatpants. You let out a small gulp as you saw the outline of it, looking back up to see Miguel giving you a small smirk. "It's okay, baby. I'll ease you through it," he assured you as he started to take off his clothes. He moved on top of you, restraining himself from actually putting any weight on you, and started to kiss your neck. He nipped at your neck, leaving you with reddened marks that would affirm to everybody at the Society that you were all his. At least for an hour or two before you healed. He brought his mouth down to your breasts, trapping one of them onto his mouth as he started sucking on it, his calloused hands massaging the other one.

"Que tetas tan perfectas," he whispered against you as he continued to suck on your tit, his tongue rolling on your areola. (what perfect tits) You felt yourself clench around nothing, growing even more aroused as he continued his assault on your nipples. He started doing the same to the other one, switching places between his hand and mouth. Once he felt satisfied enough, he pulled away from you and stood on his knees. He slowly started to push his cock inside of you, your walls struggling to adjust to his size as you clenched against him. "Relax, baby. I got you, okay?" He assured you, rubbing small circles on your thighs as you nodded. You tried to focus more on your breathing rather than the huge cock almost splitting you in half and he was able to push more inside.

You let out a loud moan as he finally bottomed out, a thin layer of sweat building up on your forehead. It wasn't your first time by any means, but Miguel was just so big and so girthy that you needed some time to adjust. "Looks like cooking's not the only thing I need to walk you through, right nena?" He asked you with a small smirk on his face as he waited for the okay from you to start moving. You nodded once you felt the sting transform into a form a pleasure, needing to feel more from him. He slowly took his cock out before plunging it into you causing all the air to come out your lungs. He started off slow with his thrusts, not wanting to overwhelm you too much for the first time.

He put your legs on his shoulders, the new angle allowing him to push into you deeper and he couldn't help but feel proud at himself as he saw the tip of his cock bulging in your stomach. You honestly looked like an angel to him at the moment with your hair all splayed out across the pillow, your pale cheeks tinted pink, and your mouth parted in a 'o' to let out the most beautiful moans of his name. He started speeding up his thrusts when he saw that you were more comfortable with having him inside, your pussy clenching around his cock perfectly. "Oh God," you moaned out, completely blissed out by the feeling of his cock as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You felt every coherent thought disappear as he fucked you, too drunk off the way he was making you feel to say anything apart from his name. "Not God, Miguel," he teased you, leaning into trap your lips in a kiss which you welcomed with pleasure.

His fingers went down to your clit, rubbing precise circles on the nub despite the stuttering of his hips. "Need you to cum for me, guerita," he moaned out, watching your face contort into one of pure bliss. your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, coating Miguel’s cock completely as a white ring built up around the base. You clawed at the sheets as you felt Miguel continue abusing your pussy, clenching against him tightly like you wanted to milk his cock. He released his load inside of you a couple seconds later, overtaken by the way that your walls were clamping up against him. He watched as the cum started dribbling out of your cunt and decided on plugging it with his cock. He pulled out with a small hiss, seeing how your greedy cunt clenched up against nothing.

After he'd cleaned you off, he wrapped you up in his arms and started stroking your hair, not wanting you to leave just yet. You felt how much he loved you with this embrace and it felt nice after how long you'd spent questioning how he felt about you. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked you softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just thinking what you must be like in bed when you're not injured," you reply with a cheeky grin, causing him to let out a small chuckle. "Lucky for you, you have plenty of time to find that out."

[ragingbookdragon]

She walked through the base with the lunchbox to her chest, barely managing to not trip over her own feet as she wandered through the halls with expert knowledge. One of the soldiers opened the door for her and she nodded to them, stepping through and she looked up, seeing her husband chatting around with Rudy, and two other men she didn’t recognize.

“Ale,” she called, and her husband looked over, joy splitting across his face as he straightened from where he was leaning on the table.

“Mi alma!” he greeted, walking over, smile dropping to a frown when he noticed the sadness on her face. “Mi alma, qué pasa? Por qué te ves molesto?”

Her lips pulled down in a dramatic pout as she explained, “I tried to make you some chicken and rice, but I accidentally burned the chicken. So, then I was gonna make chicken noodle soup and just scrape the burnt parts off but I didn’t have any broth and so I made my own and it was all going great but then I was gonna put in the noodles and…” her lips wobbled. “We didn’t have any noodles.”

She lifted the lunchbox and sniffled. “So, I made you a sandwich and packed some chips. And a few cookies. And a bottle of juice. And—” Alejandro’s lips curled over his teeth, evident that he was trying to hide his grin and she whimpered, “Te estás riendo de mí.”

Alejandro couldn’t help but snort as he wrapped his arms around her. “No, mi alma, I’m not laughing at you.”

“Yes, you are,” she whined. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you.”

She cocked her head up and scowled at him. “I am not laughing, Ale. I’m devastated.”

“Why?” he humored, looking at her. “Because you didn’t cook my lunch?”

“Yes,” she sniffed, lips tugged down. “I miserably failed to cook chicken today.”

Alejandro hummed, pressing his nose to hers. “But you made me a lunch anyways and I’m going to eat it so happily, porque mi esposa hermosa lo hizo para mí y puso su corazón en cada pieza.”

“Es un sándwich.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, smushing their noses. “And I love anything you make me.” Alejandro pecked her lips, pulled away and cupped her cheeks, wiping his thumbs under her eyes as he comforted, “Ahora seca tus ojos, alma mía, no hay necesidad de estar tan molesto.”

She gazed at him, letting her face get smushed in his hands, staring at him between slits as she mumbled, “What’d I do to get you?”

He smiled, that warm, so loving smile that made her heart flutter, the first time she saw it, she fell in love with him—still to this day, five years later, he looked at her the same. “Soy yo quien debería hacer esa pregunta. Para tener una mujer tan maravillosa que cuide de mí, debes ser un ángel enviado por Dios.”

Her cheeks warmed, smile threatening to split her face in half as she blushed, “Alejandro Vargas, quit, we’re in public.” She pulled away, righted herself and turned. “I’m going home.”

Alejandro held the lunchbox in his hand, a smirk on his face as he called out loudly, “Pero, mi alma, don’t leave me! I’m a wounded man! Your husband needs you to take care of him!” her shoulders set in embarrassment as his soldiers started laughing. “Te amo, alma mía! Mi corazón late por ti!”

He snickered as she practically ran out of the base like her ass was on fire, knowing he was in for it when he got home; Alejandro walked back over and sat the lunchbox down on the table, slapping at Rudy’s hand and glaring when his second tried to get in for the cookies. “Lo siento, eres su esposo? No? Sal de mi lonchera.”

Rudy frowned. “She packs enough for me, you know that.”

“And I don’t wanna share what my wife brought me,” he griped in return. “Find your own wife.”

A groan left Rudy’s lips as he complained, “No es justo que ella sea tu esposa. Ella es la mejor que hay.”

Alejandro puffed out his chest, pride in his voice as he agreed, “That she is. And she’s mine,” he lifted up his left hand and pointed to his gold band. “Forever.”

Soap leaned over as the two started bickering, whispering to Ghost, “Did you know Alejandro was married?”

“Uh huh,” Ghost nodded. “Showed me the photos in his wallet.”

“He has photos in his wallet?”

“Yep. Like a ton of them. All of her.”

Soap frowned. “Damn, that woman must be something fierce to have such a hold on him.”

“She is!” Alejandro interrupted, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. “Here, let me show you.”