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muchosbesitos · 8 months

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falling behind

pairing: college!miguel x inexperienced spanish speaking fem reader (translation provided 🫡)

warnings: established fake relationship (i honestly mixed like three tropes into this) and oral (f receiving)

author’s note: this was somewhat inspired by ‘falling behind’ by laufey (highly recommend 🙏🏼) and a lil bit by the spanish love deception. anyways i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope y’all enjoy :3

word count: 4.6K

You always seemed to be behind when you compared your life to your classmates' lives, almost like you were sitting in the backseat waiting for your life to begin. A part of you secretly wanted what they had: to get asked out, to experience teenage dating, but you never had the courage to seek out and go get it. Sure, your family made some smart remarks about how your cousins were already dating but you pushed those away since you didn't want to make a big deal. You honestly thought that it wouldn't come back to bite you until you got back home from your class one day.

You got back home from your chemistry class to see your roommate, Miguel O’Hara, hunched over at the kitchen table reading some envelopes. You set your bag down on the couch and walk over to the table, sitting down next to him. "Hey, anything good come in the mail?" You asked, visibly startling him as he looked up at you. "Just our utility bills. Oh, and you got something from back home," he responded, handing you an envelope with your sister's name on the sender address. You wanted to put off reading the letter, but you decided to bite the bullet instead.

"Ah fuck," you mumbled, holding up the wedding invitation as you let out a small sigh. "C'mon think of all the leftovers you could bring," Miguel suggested, raising his hands up in defense when you looked over at him. "I'll probably just say I'm sick or something," you spoke, more so to yourself as Miguel’s brows furrowed. "It's just, if all my aunts and whatnot see me at the wedding without someone, they're gonna start commenting on it. How I'm the only one alone," you explained, hoping that it would ease the confusion on Miguel’s face.

"So I'll be your fake boyfriend for the night," he suggested, like he was asking what type of cereal he should get. Your brows furrowed as you sat down at the table, folding your arms. "What about your girlfriend? Dana? or Xina? Whichever one you're dating now," you countered, looking up at him. "Well.. That's actually where you come in. Dana broke up with me so I was kinda hoping that if she saw me and you together, she'd come back," he replied, sitting down across from you.

"And what about if this blows up in our face and I end up homeless, Mig?"

"First of all, this isn't gonna blow up in our face. And second of all, I think we can separate our façade away from our home life."

"You're forgetting I've never dated anyone. I have zero idea how this all works."

"I'll teach you about what to do. Plus, you'll be able to have some experience when you actually do date someone."

You wanted to continue arguing with Miguel, tell him how farfetched this idea sounded but it seemed like for every argument you had, he had a counterattack. Your mind couldn't help but race with everything that could possibly go wrong with this arrangement, but you decided to trust Miguel’s confidence in it. "Since it'll be beneficial for the both of us, okay," you said after a moment of deliberation, extending your hand out. "Are we in the mafia or something?" he muttered, rolling his eyes as you glared at him and shook your hand. You were expecting him to pull away after a while, seeing how resistant he was to it but he didn't. He simply stroked your hand with his thumb, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Our first lesson's handholding," Miguel elaborated and you were about to explain how you didn't need his help but he interrupted you. "Look, I know you know how to do it. But you would've started to overthink if I told you beforehand," he stated, keeping your hand with his.

The next few weeks before the wedding had been pretty uneventful, you had been telling Miguel about your family members and which ones to look out for and he had been teaching you all the basic parts of being in a relationship. The two of you were currently sitting at a Starbucks, helping each other study for a chemistry exam when you heard Miguel’s name being called from behind you. "Migs! I haven't seen you in such a long time, how are you?" Dana asked once she appeared in sight, completely ignoring you as she went to go stake her claim. "I've been good. Been busy with my girlfriend and all," he replied, his gaze locked on you as he smiled. You could've sworn that Dana's eyes turned into little daggers as she faced you. "Oh, I'm so happy for you!" Dana decided to say, starting to talk about some frat party she wanted to take Miguel to.

You couldn't help but notice that the entire time that Dana was talking to Miguel and batting her lashes at him, he kept his gaze solely on you. You decided to push it off, assuring yourself that he was doing that to make her jealous. "I thought the whole point was to get her back, why didn't you agree to the frat party?" You asked when Dana left, taking a sip from your coffee as his brows furrowed. "Oh, the frat party, yeah. I mean, she says she wants to spend time with me but who gets back together at a party, y'know?" He responded, shrugging before going back to his school work. You decided not to push the subject any further and continued to study with Miguel.

You and Miguel had spent the following weeks going on study dates or just little dates between the two of you that didn't feel like research anymore. Eventually, the wedding approached the two of you and you were pacing in your living room. Miguel stood at the corner of the room, watching as you talked to yourself and freaked out. "What if this goes all wrong? I’m gonna be such an idiot," you muttered to yourself, continuing to walk around the living room. You didn't notice when Miguel walked over, placing his hands on your shoulders as he held you still. "Hey, calm down, you're gonna make a hole in the floor. On a serious note though, you're not gonna look like an idiot. We rehearsed this through and through and you're a natural when it comes to being affectionate," he remarked, massaging your shoulders gently.

You took a few seconds to calm down and stop your pacing, wrapping your hands tightly around Miguel’s body. "Thank you. For getting me out of my head and for even agreeing to this shenanigan," you spoke up after Miguel wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body in his. "Don't worry about it. Go get dressed and we'll get going. We don't wanna miss the food," he replied, pulling back from the hug as he smiled reassuringly at you. "And what's wrong with what i'm wearing?" You asked, a brow raised as you referred to the Spider-Man pajamas you were wearing. "Nothing, but I just think those pajamas should be reserved for my eyes only, mm?" He responded, winking at you as you rolled your eyes.

You put on the dress that you picked out with Miguel a couple days ago, the material fitting around you snugly. You sat in front of the mirror, following the makeup tutorial your sister had sent you. You were in the middle of doing your eyeliner when suddenly you poked your eye. "Motherfucker!" You grumbled, putting your hand against your eye as you felt it watering. Miguel walked in after hearing your yell, stopping in his tracks when he took a glimpse at you. "I know it looks bad but I'll be ready in about thirty minutes," you assured him, wiping off the smudged mascara as you suppressed the urge to groan. "Bad isn't necessarily the word I would have used," he mumbled, leaning against the door frame.

"Maybe you're taking too much at one time. Makeup's a journey and shit, so just do what you know how to do while you get better at the other stuff," he suggested, rubbing small circles on your back. You looked at him through the mirror, nodding as you took off your makeup to start fresh. "I don't know how you always do that. Say all the right things to make me feel better, i mean," you admitted, deciding to turn off the makeup tutorial and go by what with Miguel said. Miguel lingered by the door frame, crossing his arms together as he watched you do your makeup before eventually going off to get dressed himself.

You and Miguel arrive at the reception hall at a pretty decent hour, since it wasn't too early but the caterers were barely starting to pass out the food. You jump a little when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to face your mom. She leaned in, kissing you on the cheek as she embraced you. "Hola mami, ¿cómo estás?" you greet her, watching as her eyes immediately drift over to the man next to you. (hi mommy, how are you?) "Bien ¿y tú? ¿Y quién es este?" she asked, cutting the formalities short to find out what she needed to know. (good and you? and who’s this?)

"Este es mi novio, Miguel." (this is my boyfriend, Miguel)

"Ay mija, pero que guapo esta. Y que alto, casi llega al techo. ¿Porque no me lo habías presentado?" (oh daughter, he’s so handsome. and he’s so tall, he almost reaches the roof. why haven’t you presented him to me?)

You were about to speak up when Miguel suddenly cut you off, extending his hand towards your mom. "Un placer, señora. Y bueno, usted sabe como es su hija y lo tanto que le gusta ser privada," he responded, your mom’s eyes widening a bit. (a pleasure ma’am. and well, you know your daughter and how much she likes being private) "Un placer también. Usted es mas aceptable que el poster que ella le daba besos," your mom remarked, laughing as Miguel joined her. (a pleasure too. you are more acceptable than the poster she used to kiss) You grabbed his hand, pulling him away to avoid any other embarrassments. "You kissed a poster?" Miguel asked in between laughter, wiping at some imaginary tears from his eyes. "We're never speaking of this again," you grumbled, watching as his eyes sparkled with your reaction, laughing even harder. "I'm never dropping this."

Your mom pulled you and Miguel over to the table where all your aunts were so you'd say hello and make pleasantries with them. You could tell they wanted to say something about Miguel, surprised to see you here in public with a man by your side but they chose to bite their tongue back. Well, all but one. "¿Y tu eres su novio?" One of your least liked aunts asked Miguel, pointing a fork at his direction. (and you’re her boyfriend?) "Si señora. Apenas empezamos con la relacion pero la quiero mucho," he responded, looking at your aunt as she laughed. (yes ma’am. we just started with the relationship but i like her a lot) "Pero que bueno. Pensábamos que se iba morir virgen la pobre," she remarked, her eyes glinting with amusement as your other aunts laughed. (oh, how good. we thought the poor girl was going to die a virgin.)

You were used to these kinds of remarks and you knew that it was best to keep your mouth shut and let them glide through. "Disculpe señora, con todo respeto, pero a usted ¿que le importa? ¿Es que no tiene vida para andarse preocupando de lo que ella hace? Lo que usted deberia estarse preocupando es sobre su marido," Miguel replied, keeping his tone even as he grabbed your hand. (excuse me ma’am, with all respect, but what do you care? do you not have anything else going on in your life to be worrying about what she’s doing? what you should be worrying about is your husband.)

You and Miguel sat in the car at the venue parking lot as he stroked your hand softly. "I'm sorry if I stepped a line in there. It's just.. What does she even care about who you're dating or what you're doing?" He spoke up after a couple seconds, looking directly at your eyes. "I really appreciate you doing that, Miguel. Every time I tell my mom about it, she takes their side and tells me to keep quiet about it. I mean, yeah, they're probably never gonna wanna talk to me but that's cool," you said with a small laugh, meeting Miguel’s gaze. he tilted your chin towards him, his lips meeting against yours tentatively.

His touch was featherlight as he leaned into kiss you, almost like he was scared you weren't going to reciprocate. You felt your heart beat hammering as you tried to recall the kissing techniques you'd seen in YouTube videos, shutting your eyes as you leaned in. "Ow," you mumbled, opening your eyes to find out that you accidentally bumped into Miguel’s nose. "It's okay, chiquita. I know it's your first time," he assured you, holding your cheek as he tilted his face to the side. (little one) "Just keep your eyes open until our lips connect and then just follow what I'm doing, don't overthink it," he told you, leaning in once more to kiss you.

The moment you felt your lips connect against his felt like fireworks, even if it was a little awkward. Your lips were stiff as he kissed you, unsure of what to do before you remembered his advice and decided to follow his lead. You felt comfortable shutting your eyes so you did, your hands reaching up to his hair like you wanted to pull him closer. You'd heard from your friends about their first kiss stories, how it was an awkward clash of lips but it felt more like a synchronized dance with Miguel. He deepened the intensity of the kiss when he felt that you were comfortable, his hand moving to your cheek in doing so.

You two pulled away a couple seconds later to catch your breath, the realization that you'd not only kissed your fake boyfriend but your roommate hitting you hard. You could've sworn that Miguel read your mind because he said, "I saw someone coming out the door and I figured we might as well sell it since they were looking this way." A fiber of your being hoped that your first kiss wouldn't have ended up as just something to prove, but you knew that it would lead you to uncharted territory with Miguel so you nodded along.

The ride home was mostly quiet, the music on the radio filling up the atmosphere. You thanked Miguel once more for helping you with the wedding dilemma before locking yourself up in your room. You didn't have the energy to figure out what was happening between the two of you and quite frankly, you thought you were probably being delusional, thinking too hard about things that would be normal in a fake relationship. You pushed those thoughts away as you changed out of the dress, hoping that you'd be able to get some peace of mind.

After a couple minutes of tossing and turning on your bed, you decided to go talk to Miguel since you had a feeling you wouldn't get some clarity until you did. You knocked on his door, hesitantly, as you swayed from foot to foot while you waited for his answer. Your jaw almost touched the floor when he opened the door, wearing no shirt and a low-clinging pair of grey sweatpants. You had to force yourself to look up at him when he let out a small cough, noticing the glasses he had on. "Is there something you needed?" He asked, a brow arched as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. In your defense, you tried really hard not to look, but it was impossible to resist the way he biceps flexed when he did that. "You."

Your eyes widened as you realized what had come out of your mouth, Miguel’s face one of amusement as he started to laugh. "What I meant to say was, I wanted an explanation from you. What did that kiss mean tonight?" you asked, a brow raised as you folded your arms. "I told you chiquita, to sell it to the person walking out of the party," he spoke, but you noticed that his eyes wouldn't meet yours. You pressed your lips together but decided not to push it any further, walking away. You turned around when Miguel grabbed your arm, he looked like he wanted to say something more. "I want more than just kisses with you." Your mind began going haywire at what he was saying but what you managed to blurt out was, "Because we're fake dating?"

Miguel let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. "No, not because we're fake dating," he spoke up after a while, tilting your chin up. "I want more than just kisses with you too," you told him, watching as his eyes darkened a bit. "I'm not gonna sleep with you until you're certain that my feelings for you are real. None of this fake dating shit," he whispered, leaning in as he kissed your cheek. You felt a bit disappointed as he spoke, but you realized where he was coming from though that didn’t stop the desire igniting in you. "I need you, Miguel."

Miguel let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted on what to do. "Lay down on the bed, chiquita," he finally relented and you laid down on the bed, awaiting for his next move. He set down his glasses on his bedside table before he laid down next to you, his hand moving to your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you. He continued doing that until you two were a panting, breathless mess and he played with the hem of your sleep pants. "Are you okay if we go further?" He asked, not wanting to intimidate you by doing too much too soon. "Y-Yeah," you whispered, wishing your voice sounded more affirmative than breathy, but you felt overwhelmed by everything Miguel was doing.

He slowly took off your pajama pants so he'd be able to stop himself if you got uncomfortable at any point before he settled in between your legs. Before you got a chance to ask what he was doing, he began kissing his way from your calf to your inner thigh. He gently nipped at the skin, his teeth grazing it slightly as he continued with his movements. He hooked his arms underneath your legs, putting them on his shoulders before leaning in to your clothed pussy. You felt embarrassed by how much wetness had accumulated since he'd barely even kissed you but that was quickly pushed aside when Miguel started to lick you through your underwear.

He slid off your panties after a while of you wiggling to get more from him, his lips curled in amused smirk as he took them off. He started off slow, collecting the slick that was clinging to your folds before delving in. He ate you out like a man starved and you couldn't help but moan out at the strange sensations. He let you close your thighs around his head, letting out soft grunts into your pussy as you tightened around him. The vibrations from his mouth shot straight to your spine, making your back arch from the bed. He held you still as he started to suck on your folds.

His mouth enclosed around your clit, looking up at you as he flicked his mouth. "Keep your eyes on me," he whispered when he saw you looking away, slowing down his movements. He continued once more once your eyes met his, having you watch as he kept his mouth connected with your clit. He took one of his fingers, gently probing them inside before sticking it in. he curled his finger, making way to stroke your g-spot with every movement. "So tight," he spoke against your clit, putting another finger in as he started moving them in a scissoring motion. Your mouth parted into a 'o' shape as he continued, overwhelmed by the sensation. His two fingers curled, finding your g-spot as they brushed up against it every time he thrust his fingers in.

You pulled on his hair, pushing your pelvis closer to his mouth, almost drowning him with your pussy. And you could tell that he wouldn't have minded it that much with the way he groaned in your pussy, slurping the juices that were leaking out. You felt a strange sensation building in your lower stomach, like a knot just waiting to unravel. "Mig! Stop, I'm gonna pee," you blurted out, feeling a bit embarrassed by the admission. You had expected Miguel to slow down but he continued with the same vigor, if not, only more motivated. The knot unraveled in you quickly and you released against miguel's face, feeling embarrassed at the thought you might've peed on him. He took his fingers out, sucking your juices off them as he looked straight into you. "You didn't pee on me, don't worry," he assured you, grabbing a wet wipe to clean you up.

You and Miguel had been threading a delicate line throughout the course of a week, only talking to each other when it came to basic chores and what to get for dinner. You were in the middle of doing classwork on the dining table when Miguel came over, sitting on the chair across from you. "Hey, I know things have been weird between us, but do you still want to head to that Halloween party with me?" He asked, reminding you of the Halloween party that he'd asked about two weeks ago. "Well I already have the costume, so it'd be a shame not to," you responded, not willing yourself to look up at him. Partly from the fact that you weren't sure where your late night rendezvous left you and from the fact that you'd looked up porn after that night, using Miguel as the object of your fantasies when you got yourself off.

You came back from your classes about five hours later and you noticed that Miguel was in his room blasting music, probably getting ready for the Halloween party so you decided to do the same. You managed to find a simple makeup tutorial for the bruises you were doing, given that you and Miguel were going as Tyler and the Narrator from Fight Club. You put on the suit and grabbed some of the bars of soap that Miguel had gotten for the two of you before stepping out of your room. "Hey, do you think you can help me with the bruises? I just can't get them to look realistic, y'know?" Miguel asked when he came out of his room, the bruises on his face looking like blotches of purple.

You had Miguel sit down while you blended the colors in his face, trying not to pay mind to just how much it affected you having him this close to you. You finished up a little while later and grabbed some fake blood, dabbing it in with your finger around his mouth and the cut you'd made on his cheek. "Has anyone told you how good you look covered in blood?" You asked absentmindedly as Miguel burst out into laughter. "Must be why everyone was so eager to help me out after a fight in high school," he replied, standing up once you finished. He thanked you for the work you'd done and you two quickly headed out to the dorms.

The party was in full swing when you two arrived and you couldn't help but notice that a lot of people were coming to say hi to Miguel. You'd always pictured him as the quiet genetics student, but seeing him out in public with his friends was a decent experience. You'd half expected him to leave you to go entertain them, but he grabbed your hand and led you to the back where there was more space to talk. "If at any point you want to leave, just let me know and we'll go, okay?" He told you, waiting for you to nod in affirmation before he took you to hang out with his friends.

He introduced you as his girlfriend, which struck you as odd since you would've thought he'd tell them about your arrangement, but you liked the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. His friends were nice enough, they included you in the conversation and they were pretty nice to talk to overall. "So how long have you two been dating?" One of his friends asked, looking over at you. You looked up at Miguel for help and luckily, he answered that plea. "We've been dating for about two months now, I'd say. But I've been liking her for a bit longer than that," he replied with a small laugh, and you couldn't help but feel your heart beating faster at his comment. Even if it was something he added to make the story sound more believable, you wanted to believe so badly that he actually liked you.

The rest of the party was spent in a blur of talking with his friends, dancing, and getting shots. Even when you stopped by to get shots, Miguel’s gaze never left yours. You could've sworn that you saw his fists clench up when a guy in a Spider-Man costume tried to talk to you, but as soon as you blinked, it was gone so you decided to push it away. You excused yourself to the bathroom a little after, and Miguel insisted on helping you find your way through the large house. His friends had a weird look on their face but you didn't question it too much out of the need to pee.

You came out of the restroom and you were a little surprised when you noticed that Miguel hadn't stayed behind to wait for you. You walked down the large hallway, stopping when you saw Miguel walking into one of the rooms with a girl in a devil costume. You decided to look through the creak in the door, seeing what Miguel was up to and quickly came to the realization that it wasn't just a girl in a devil costume. It was Dana and she had her arms all around miguel. "Please miguel, I've missed you so bad and I can tell that you do too. Come on, you can't seriously be happy with that inexperienced virgin?"

You decided to leave the party after witnessing Dana talk to Miguel, feeling a burning sensation in your chest. You knew that this was the whole objective of the arrangement that you and Miguel had going on, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much when it ended. You'd grown used to being miguel's 'girlfriend' and spending time with him, that you hadn't anticipated it would come to an end so soon. You locked yourself up in your room, feeling completely angry at yourself for being so foolish about the circumstances as you scrubbed away the makeup of the night. You were thinking about what to do about healing the burning you felt in your chest, listening to Frank Ocean and having a good cry seemed like the best one, when you heard a knock on your door.

You opened your bedroom door, seeing Miguel standing there with a solemn look on his face. "Hey, I heard what Dana told you earlier. I bet you're happy that she came back to you so i think we should end this. I'll find someone else and.. use the experience you taught me," you told him, attempting to muster a smile as his gaze darkened. "You're not gonna do that, okay?" He responded, his brows furrowing as he spoke. "And why not?" you asked, feeling your own smile falter as he spoke.

"Because I don't want you to find anyone else."

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endlessthxxghts · 2 months

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Ch1: New Beginnings

teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k

Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.

Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).

A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx

series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog

August 2024

“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.

The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?

“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”

Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.

“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.

Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”

“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.

“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”

Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.

Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.

Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”

“Frankie, please,” he corrects.

“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”

Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.

“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”

Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.

So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.

“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.

A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.

“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”

Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.

Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”

“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”

Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.

Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.

“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”

Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”

“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.

Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”

Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.

“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.

“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.

The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.

“So,” Frankie states.

“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.

“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.

“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.

“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.

“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.

His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.

She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.

“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”

“What do you mean, papi?”

“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”

She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.

“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”

“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.

“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”

Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”

“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”

“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.

It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.

She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.

The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.

For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.

You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.

So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.

This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.

However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.

You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.

It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.

“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.

“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?

“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”

And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.

You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.

The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.

Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.

“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.

You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”

“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.

You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.

“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.

Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”

“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”

“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”

“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”

Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”

“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.

“Let me talk to Elena-”

“Fish, she’ll be fine-”

Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”

Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”

Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.

“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.

“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.

Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”

Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.

“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”

Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”

“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.

Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”

“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”

“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”

“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.

It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.

He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.

He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.

He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.

“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.

“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. ��Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.

“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”

“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.

“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”

Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.

Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.

“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.

“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”

This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”

“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.

Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.

“I have one idea,” she offers.

Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.

“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”

“Deal,” Frankie tells her.

“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”

Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.

“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”

“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.

“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”

If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”

He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.

“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”

He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.

What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.

The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.

Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.

You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.

[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!

[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…

[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.

[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.

[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.

[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?

[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.

[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?

[5:57PM Leah] 👀

[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀

[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?

[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.

[5:59PM] Wow.

[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.

You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.

You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.

It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.

When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.

With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.

The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.

The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.

Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.

“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.

Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.

It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.

Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.

You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”

“What are you getting?”

“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”

“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”

Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”

“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.

The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”

She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.

In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.

Two minutes, she mouths.

You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.

As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.

A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”

“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.

You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.

“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.

As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.

“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.

Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.

“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.

“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?

He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.

“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.

“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.

You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.

The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.

Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.

As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.

The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.

“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.

Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.

You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.

He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.

Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.

Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.

His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.

Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.

He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.

You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.

“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.

“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.

Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.

Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.

“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.

“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.

“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”

You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.

“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.

“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.

“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.

Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.

Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”

“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.

He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.

He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?

Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.

Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.

“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.

You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.

“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.

The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.

Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”

“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.

He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.

“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.

He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.

“You okay?” He checks in.

You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.

You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.

“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.

You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!

You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.

Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.

“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”

You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.

“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”

She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.

When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.

Except, he doesn’t.

Monday, August 19th.

Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.

No luck. Of course.

Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.

“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.

“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.

Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.

Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.

Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.

He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:

Ground Rules

He flips to the page.

He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.

His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.

No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.

He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.

“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.

Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”

“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.

Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.

“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.

Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.

Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”

“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.

“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”

On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.

When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.

Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.

What’s wrong? He thinks.

What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.

And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.

Fuck.

I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.

Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶

Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!

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neiveel3llson · 2 months

Text

Obey Me! Incorrect quotes

Diavolo trying to convince MC to continue being the babysitter:

NB Diavolo: "What are you talking about MC? You love it here!"

NB MC: "I'm not sure I do, I think I've just developed Stockholm syndrome."

Solomon being an old ass man:

NB Solomon: "The dinosaurs didn’t rule the earth they were just alive. Stop giving them credit for administration skills they didn’t have."

Satan for no reason at all:

NB Mammon: "Do I sound smart, or am I smart? "

NB Satan: "You sound unbearable, to be perfectly honest."

Leviathan being depressed:

NB Lucifer: "How are you today?"

NB Leviathan: "Please don’t make me think about my life."

Beelzebub being.. Beelzebub:

NB Beelzebub: "My stomach growled super loud in French."

NB Beelzebub: "I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class."

NB Leviathan: "Bonjour."

NB MC: "Le growl."

NB Mammon: "Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette."

NB MC now that they're a demon:

NB MC: "I am literally evil incarnate."

NB MC: "I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil."

NB MC: "Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort."

Solomon can't cook:

NB Solomon: "I truly go into househusband mode when I'm someone's soulhousemate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning."

NB MC: "This is a lie."

NB MC: "I'm literally living with him. This is a lie."

NB MC: "HE DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS."

MC just wants to go home:

NB Solomon: "I think I'm falling for you."

NB MC: "Then get up."

Levi is sick of Satan:

NB Leviathan: "Satan is okay."

NB Beelzebub: "He's okay? He said he was going to break my legs! And don't tell me he didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause he gave me the mackerel eyes, he meant it!"

NB Leviathan: "Beel, Satan threatened me. He threatens Lucifer every day. He probably threatened Diavolo before breakfast this morning. It's what he does. Grow a pair."

Levi self-deprocating:

NB MC: "I'm going the fight the next person who insults Levi."

NB Leviathan: "I hate myself."

NB MC: "Alright, square up."

When MC first came:

NB MC, referring to NB Mammon and NB Diavolo: "Those guys are dorks."

NB Lucifer: "Yes, but they’re my dorks."

Belphegor annoying Lucifer on purpose:

NB Belphegor: "Lucifer, we have a visitor."

NB Lucifer: "Don't tell me it's our babysitter.."

NB Belphegor: "It's MC."

Lucifer being sick of Mammon's shit:

Lucifer: "The greatest trick the diavolo's father ever pulled was changing his name to Mammon."

Mammon bc he's my fav pookie:

Mammon: "So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?"

MC: "Depends. Is your bed comfortable?"

Mammon: "Yes."

MC: "I'd sleep."

Thirteen is going insane:

Thirteen: "Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time."

Diavolo is far too concerned:

*after discussing a plan*

Barbatos: "Does anyone have any questions?"

Diavolo: "Is this legal?"

Barbatos: "Does anyone have any relevant questions?"

Satan loves to boast:

Satan: "I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight."

MC: "What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?"

Satan, already taking off his clothes: "God, MC, you’re so fucking stupid."

It probably wouldn't work anyways:

MC: "Here’s the cold medicine you asked for." *dumps 3 shopping bags of wine on the table*

Thirteen: "...Thanks."

Levi and Garfield:

Leviathan: "I once tried to play a pirated copy of Garfield Kart, when Garfield jumped out of my PC! We are currently married with three beautiful children and a summer room in the basement of HOL with Cerberus."

Math doesn't work:

MC: "Which is correct, seven and five is thirteen, or seven and five are thirteen?"

Thirteen: "Niether."

Thirteen: "Because it's twelve."

Venomous or poisonous?:

Lucifer: "If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous."

Mammon: "What if it bites me and it dies?!"

Lucifer: "Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Mammon, learn to listen."

Diavolo: "What if it bites itself and I die?"

Lucifer: "That's voodoo."

MC: "What if it bites me and someone else dies?"

Lucifer: "That's correlation, not causation."

Asmodeus: "What if we bite each other and neither of us die?"

Solomon: "That's kinky."

Barbatos: "Oh my goodness."

:P done

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whoreish-behaviour · 1 year

Text

Rain and Rooftops

Miguel O’hara x F!Reader

Enemies to lovers fluff ig and use of google translate (my Spanish grandparents are defo cussing me out) NO SPOILERS I think??

You could feel your body temperature slowly drop, bones threatening to rattle against your dimming soul as you stared out into the city below - cold and harsh wetness rapidly falling against your once warm cheeks.

The rain seemed to melt against you once it hit your cooling skin, the icy water running fast and unforgiving - turning everything so numb that you couldn't feel the warmth of your tears as they fell too - mixing and sloshing together.

You didn't bother to fix your lopsided bomber jacket, your ripped 'hero' costume exposing most of your upper-body and letting the rain lick away at the various cuts and soothe the bruises.

It was oddly comforting.

Averting your eyes, you trailed over the rapidly growing pool around you, smears of red becoming more and more prominent the more you let yourself sit.

You were too tired to move.

Too tired to fight.

Fiddling with the mask in your hand, you waited patiently - feeling yourself grow more limp as your decision sunk in, smiling fondly at the cloud of pride blooming in your chest at how long you had survived.

You were beginning to think he was going easy on you but today proved how grossly wrong your underestimation was.

'Estoy empezando a pensar que has olvidado cómo hablar Bandog.' You weakly joked, the nickname rolling off your tongue.

'I'm starting to think you've forgotten how to speak Bandog.'

His sigh from somewhere behind you made the smile on your lips deepen even more.

'Your nickname is stupid.'

If you had the energy to shrug you would've, probably even spit a few nasty remarks about how he fitted the description of a bandog more than the breed itself and then boom - make a hasty get-a-way by the skin of your teeth and find another temporary home to call yours until you were found again.

You didn't reply.

You didn't move a single muscle when the pool of rain around you reflected a different kind of red, more fluorescent and mixed with a equally bright blue.

His obnoxiously brilliant suit poked at the corner of your stare, almost demanding your attention as he kneeled next to you, another sigh interrupting the cool rain and the sound of your soulless breathing.

You ignored his stare.

'No smart remarks or new tricks to show off?' You could feel his stare analysing you - guessing your next move although all your chest pieces laid scattered across the board beaten.

Your obvious defeat was humiliating to say the least but you refused to admit it aloud.

Instead you just allowed yourself to crumble, mask slipping from your grip and landing with a splat and your cheeks growing warm once again as your tears caught up to the rain.

I give up, it was so easy to say but your lips remained sealed.

Miguel watched silently as you seemed to deteriorate right beside him, ears just waiting for the words to leave you but even he knew that despite how utterly defeated you looked, you'd never give him that much.

He'd wait anyways though, it just made this all that much easier.

'I told you that you couldn't just run away niña pequeña. So. Many. Times.'

And now you were hurt.

He evaded his stare when you refused to spare a glance his way, jaw set in a hard and unforgiving grind as the rain surrounding you both bounced directly off his suit and onto the roof below in wet sloshes.

Yours, or what was left of it, allowed the water in - welcoming it to rock your temperature to a point where you looked frozen over, body the most unmoving and still he’d ever seen it.

He had been chasing you for almost a year now, your weekly run in’s together always ending worse than the one before.

He finally had you.

Yet, he didn't budge from he was kneeled beside your form - something raw and stubborn in his gut telling him to just stay fucking put.

In his head he replayed the last half an hour in his head, over and over again - searching in his brain for the exact moment you were injured but coming up short.

Coming to the conclusion that it must've been one of the other five spider-folk who's mission was to bring you in, he furrowed his eyebrows and scowled deeply at the relief that it wasn't him.

'Idiota.' He muttered to himself lowly.

He felt his chin jutt instinctually forward in surprise when there was a sudden weight on his bicep, the coldness emitting from the touch so much that he could feel it seep through his suit.

His hair swayed slightly as he turned his head to look down at you, head resting against him and your chin tipped down so he was barley able to catch a glimpse of your soft features.

He watched silently, eyes darting to your chest to make sure it rose and fell as it should before back up to you.

However, you were slowly slumping further and further down - supple cheek that was once squished against him now sliding away.

His arm opposite you shot out to cup your jaw in his large hand, careful of his now retracting claws and tilting your head up to his view - thumb and index making your cheeks look chubby and plush like.

He scoffed but felt himself relax slightly, lips twitching ever so slightly at the corners.

He gazed at you for a moment, red eyes taking in every feature that he was never give the chance to properly even look at, your goal of wriggling out his grip every chance you got proving successful so far.

Releasing his hold on you - he allowed you to fall, gravity pulling your weight down before he caught you and scooped you up with now both his hands.

He averted his eyes as he stood, almost as if it was taboo to have your form smooched to his chest and dead to the world - however the only remotely ‘forbidden' thing happening was the spread of warmth in his chest.

He felt lighter somehow, his footsteps weightless as he effortlessly carried you.

Hands moving on muscle memory, he fiddled with his watch - your body still supported by his forearms as sudden sparks of light and rapidly moving swirls materialised in front of him.

Using the excuse of having to wait for the portal to finalise itself, he allowed himself an innocent and brief glance down at you - lips set in a pout and disturbed slightly from where you had nudged your way impossibly closer to him.

He was just checking for any more scrapes or bruises that was all-

'Woahh, you finally caught her?' Miguel snapped his red eyes to the sudden appearance of Jess, her sunglass covered gaze peering down at you curiously.

'Yes.' He deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

'Only took you a year, you wanna wake her up or.?'

He let a beat pass over then before he sidestepped her, mask replacing over his face as he did.

'She's fine where she is.'

Daydreamed this and I've never rushed back home so fast in my life

Kofi <3

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faithshouseofchaos · 9 months

Text

The heart wants it wants — Carlos Sainz a reader

Summary— From the moment you first saw him you knew that he was the one for you..

——————————————————————

The first time you laid eyes on the Spanish boy you knew he was the one, Granted that you were 10 and he was 17 but that still didn’t stop you from looking at him like he painted the heavens and had hung the stars and moon. The first person who truly noticed was your friend Mick who had known you for four years. “You like him don't you” Mick had asked at the time “what no i don’t like him what are you talking about?” You had immediately denied the accusation, Mick just shook his head and said “you look at Carlos like my parents look at each other and how Seb looks at Hanna y/n”. You had to give him credit for a 14 year old boy. He was pretty smart. That was one of the reasons why you had looked up to him. If you were being honest you’d say he knew you better than you knew yourself after all the two of you had grown up together.

Four years had passed and you were now 14 and racing in formula 4 with Oscar Piastri as your teammate. He was 8 months older than you to the day everyone often joked that the two of you could have twins all because of your birthdays. This was April 6th and yours was December 6th. That wasn’t the only similarity that you both shared, you both had a calm old soul demeanor and you both were great drivers for your age. As time went on one thing never changed and was your love for Carlos who was now 20 and racing with Renault in formula one. When the news broke out about him moving on to F1 you were with Seb at Christian Horner's house for a BBQ when you heard the news. You had to excuse yourself from the group and went to bed early that night. You had made a promise to yourself to not let your love for Carlos get in the way of your racing.

Four more years had passed since then. It's now 2019 and you are now 18 and in PREMA racing with Logan Sargent,Oscar Piastri and Arthur Leclerc as your teammates. Everyone who had followed your racing career has given you a nickname The Aviator for your smooth and defensive driving approach there were rumors about you going to red Bull in a few years it was no secret that Christian Horner had an eye out for you it was also no secret that he had followed your career from the very moment Sebastian had introduced you to him. The truth was that you were good, everyone saw that and everyone wanted you to race for them. Last you had heard Carlos left Renault and joined Red Bull Racing. Now you were in your apartment pacing back and forth ranting to Mick “Can't you go with me to this party Christian is throwing I really don't want to be by myself?” you had asked your friend Mick chuckled and shook his head “As much fun as that sounds I have to catch my flight home liebe Schwester and besides Max will be there and Daniel and not to mention Sebastian is going to remember. Why are you freaking out about some party — wait for a second no I understand it's because Carlos will be there isn't it?” he said in a teasing manner with a smirk on his face “ok Stop looking at me like that please I'm stressing out here” you said wanting the group to open up and swallow you whole. “Ok ok ok like I said just stick to Max You both are pretty good friends, especially after what you did to Jos,” he said “I got disqualified from the race doing that,” I said “Yeah that's true but you did what everyone wanted to do for years anyways I need to leave before I miss my flight you'll be fine Shcewster I promise,” Mick said giving you a hug and a small on the top of your head before walking out the door.

The Jos incident two years ago…

You were 16 at the time in Belgium at a race walking around taking in everything around you when you heard someone yelling and screaming you knew who it was. Looking at the culprit you saw Jos Verstappen screaming in his son's maxes face for making a few mistakes on the race track which was crazy because he had come in second place and that wasn’t good enough for the man. Seb had always told you not to get involved he himself tried to help on the boy but no matter how bad things got Max was always stuck by his father wanting him to be proud but it was never good enough. You on the other hand were sick of it and took matters into your own hands. You walked up to the Father putting on your helmet pulling Max out of the way and slammed your head helmet in his face. You had heard a satisfying crunch pulling up your visor looking down at Jos. “You should be Proud of Max, he’s a great racer and hell maybe he will win a few WDC one day.” You said before walking away.

A knock at your door brought you out of the memory grabbing your phone and keys. You opened your door and to your surprise Carlos was standing there. “Carlos, what are you doing here?” Him confused because Max was the one who was supposed to pick you up, not the Spaniard who you had feelings for. “Max pregamed on the way here and asked me to pick up” he said, looking you up and down. “Oh ok let’s get going I don’t want to be late” you said walking out. It was a nice party that Christian had thrown. It was getting late and people started to leave but Max,Alex,Pierre,Daniel and Carlos stayed behind to hangout and sober up a bit before heading back to their respective homes and or hotels. A while has passed and the guys decided to play truth or dare “y/n truth or dare?” Pierre asked “truth?” You say “ok is it true that you have feelings for someone on the grid?” He asked “yes” you say looking down at your feet “who is it?” Alex asked curiously. “I really don’t want to talk about it okay it’s just a silly crush that’s all,” you say getting annoyed “Okay no need to be upset y/n this is just all in good fun,” Daniel said “Yeah Whatever I’m done playing this I’m tired and wanna go home so I’m calling it a night,” you say getting up and walking away from the group “I better go drop her off at her apartment I was the one who brought her here,” Carlos said to the guys.

The car ride back home was silent but not the awkward kind of silence it was comfortable in a way. “I’m sorry for making you leave earlier I was just annoyed and tired” you say apologizing to Carlos “don’t worry about it Mel I was ready to go anyways” he said turning the car off “thank you for bringing me back” you said looking at him with your hand on the door handle “your welcome” with that you opened up the door and got out closing the door you take a deep breath and walked up the stairs to your door. “Hey y/n wait” Carlos said running up to you he grabbed your arm making you turn to look at you “what’s wrong?” You asked confusedly. He looked at your eyes and then your lips before saying “this is what’s wrong” before kissing you. This is what’s wrong, those words rolled around in your head like a sick and twisted lyric this is what’s wrong those words turned your stomach making you feel sick and not in a good way it was like a sick joke that was being played on you. Pulling away you looked at Carlos telling him goodnight before walking inside your apartment trying not to break down.

Once again 4 years have passed and you are 22 years old and driving for Red Bull Oscar was driving for Mclaren,Mick was at Hass with k-mag Logan was at Williams and Arthur was at Ferrari drivers academy. After that night at Christian’s party everyone noticed a change in you. The only person who knew what was wrong with you was Mick and Oscar. That's because y’all share everything with each other. The day you signed with Red Bull you realized you had made it all your hard work had paid off. You and Carlos never talked about that Kiss four years ago. Truth be told you avoided him like the plague and everyone with two eyes could see that. You we’re getting ready for the race when max came up to you wishing you good luck and no matter what the engineer tells me to just do whatever I wanted knowing that they wanted you to just defend him so he could when again you were a great driver so he had no doubt that you would be fine out there.

You were doing great, you went from P12 to P4 by the 14th lap and you were making your way through the other drivers like a hot knife cutting butter. A few laps more laps went by and you were now in P2 overtaking Sebastian and Lewis Hamilton when the race had been red flagged.

“What’s the red flag for?” You asked your engineer

“A Ferrari has caught on fire and had to retire” your engineer said

“Who’s car is it and are they okay” you asked, feeling dread flow through your body which was understandable in this line of work you never know when it’ll be your last.

“Ita carlos Sainz car he can’t get out of the car with it rolling back on him it looked liked the engine blew on him” your engineer said

“Is anyone going to help him?” You asked

“Honestly I don’t know the safety car will be deployed Marshall’s will get to him as soon as possible so whatever you do I’d do it now before it’s to late”

Making up your mind you sped up overtaking Max and getting the fastest lap. You know that Christian would be pissed for not following the strategy of defending Max but you didn’t care you just couldn’t lose another person. Coming up to where Carlos was on the side of the track you slowed down and pulled up right behind him stopping his car long enough for the single Fire marshal to use the fire extinguisher to try and put out the flames you turned the car off and then climbed out to help any way you could.

Once you helped the Marshall keep Carlos’s car stationary you helped him climb out of his car

“Hey are you okay,” asked Carlos as soon as helped him out. “Are you insane Y/n you could have gotten yourself killed!” he yelled “I'm insane. What's wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed by not getting out of the car you psycho!” You yelled back at him “I had to save the car to the best of my ability y/n get over it” Carlos said “It’s just a car Ferrari can get another car you dumbass that’s replaceable your life isn’t you jerk!” You screamed at him. “What’s this really about y/n?” Carlos asked “I can’t lose another person” you said heartbroken “I gotta get back to the garage” you whispered walking back to your car driving back to Red Bull.

You had been disqualified from the race for getting out of your car. What had happened today on the track was disgusting. It took safety marshals way too long to get to Carlos, almost costing him his life. You were annoyed and rightfully so. Getting back into the garage you had ignored everyone and went straight back to your driver's room to cool down. You truly believed that you were over him but they always had said the heart wants what it wants.

By now the race was over and you knew Max had won just by his National Anthem playing. It would have been your first win in Formula One but you had sacrificed it for someone who didn't even thank you for your help. After cooling down you took off your race suit and fireproofs, taking a quick shower before heading back to your hotel room.

After taking a quick shower and having a talk with Christian about today he decided to let you go back to the hotel. You were getting ready for bed when someone knocked on your door and annoyed you sighed and opened the door and saw max. “What are you doing here?” You asked him “come on we’re going to a bar and we are getting drunk Even though you technically didn’t finish the race you were amazing today and I’m proud of that y/n not many people on the grid can overtake me but you did and like I said I’m proud of you so throw on some shoes and let’s go you don’t even need to change” max said you looked at him for a second before replying to him “alright I'll put my shoes on but my bra is staying off I'm not putting it back on” you explained sliding your shoes on. What you didn't know was that this was all a part of the guy's plan to get you to admit your feelings to Carlos. Everyone was sick of the tension between the two of you so they decided to take matters into their own hands.

You were walking in front of Max when all of a sudden you hear someone shout get her before being grabbed and locked in a storage closet. “WHAT THE HELL GUYS LET ME OUT” you yelled through the door trying to open it. “Not till you grow a pair and talk it out we are sick of the awkward sexual tension between you two of you” you hear someone say but it wasn’t just anyone it was your best friend Mick who you didn’t even realize was in town. “Mick please let me out” you say pounding on the door. “It’s no use I already tried, they won’t open up” Carlos said from his spot on the floor. “I can’t believe they did this” you say under your breath “I’m sorry” you heard Carlos whisper “what?” You asked “I’m sorry for snapping at you and taking my frustration out on you. You didn’t deserve it you were just trying to help me” he said apologizing looking at you “it’s fine I get it I too would have been angry” you say. “Why’d you do it you know sacrificing your first F1 race like that for me why’d you do it?” Carlos asked “because I can’t lose anymore people that I care about” you admitted. “Yeah I get that but you looked scared and you were pale. I watched the color drain from your face y/n so please don’t give me that half truth” Carlos says wanting the actual truth. You averted your gaze to the floor before speaking “The truth is I like you Carlos, and if I’m being honest with myself I have liked you since the first time I met you I was like 10 at the time, and ever since then no matter how hard I tried to move on from this silly crush I couldn’t because I love you” you admitted trying not to cry. Carlos stood up and looked down at you “I love you too, Ever since that party Christian threw and I had kissed you that night I tried to fight I really did You were 18 I was 25 I knew that you were the one even though it felt so wrong at the time it also felt so right and I apologize if I hurt you that night or any night after that because if I had it would have killed me Y/n because I love you” Carlos said holding your face in between his hands. Standing up on your tippy toes you kissed him for the first time since that night at your apartment for the first time in four years something that felt wrong then felt so right now in this moment where it was just the two of you.

On the other side of the door…

“You think they confessed yet?” Lando asked

“I hope so I was getting sick of Carlos huffing and puffing” Charles responded “50 bucks says their fucking” Pierre said “really Pierre is everything about sex with you?” Max asked.

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zepskies · 9 months

Note

Hey loved your Sam having a crush on Dean's gf! I was wondering if I could request the flipped version where Dean has a crush on Sam's gf 😏😏

Oh my God, hun! 🫢

The way I didn't even contemplate this!! But it's so delicious...

(And thank you for reading that Dean imagine! It was angsty, but oh so fun. 😘)

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Word Count: 1,300

Imagine: Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean hates this. He hates it more than anything.

He hates the look of you, all soft curves and smiles that brighten your eyes. Your hair looks even softer.

(He wants to tangle his fingers in it, tight, until your voice echoes in his ear.)

He hates that you bake cookies on Saturdays. (He also hates that you're learning how to make pies, just because he mentioned off-handedly that you should try. If your snickerdoodles are this good, he can only imagine what you could do with some cherry filling.)

He hates that you greet him, every morning, without fail, with a hand on his shoulder and asking how he's slept. (Even better if you'd joined me, he thinks.)

And then his mind gets truly creative, imagining all the ways he could make you lose sleep. All the ways his hands and tongue could get creative, tracing the contours of your body.

He hates all of that too.

But what he hates most of all?

That you're Sammy's girl.

Sam's known you longer, since college. The two of you reconnected after the second apocalypse diverted. Or was it the third one? Dean's lost count at this point.

So you're smart. Sam studied Latin, but you studied Greek and Spanish, and even symbology. You consider yourself a linguist -- a fact that had Dean grinning from the moment he met you...

But as many times as he made you blush and smile with his charm and a well-placed joke, it was Sam who hooked you with one of his dimpled smiles and asking you for help on a case.

You'd agreed, for him. The two of you bonded over your nerddom, with heads bowed over ancient texts and shared personal history, and Dean tried not to feel like an outsider.

And yet, even when you fell for his brother. Even when you moved into the bunker, taking up his counter space with your ridiculous baking appliances. Even when you doted and touched and kissed and promised Sam more with your eyes, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed his chance.

So Dean backed off. He made excuses not to be around you and Sam when it got too much for him. Had to ignore the way his stomach churned (and maybe his heart clenched too).

...Until his chance comes. He sees it.

He's also a bit drunk.

"Aw, Dean. You okay?" you ask, picking up a large, empty bottle of whiskey by his hand, which still holds a fifth of a glass.

"Oh, I'm good," he replies, raising his brows with a smile. "I'm real good."

You snort with a laugh. He smirks at the sound; he would never admit it, but a small part inside him always swells with warmth when he makes you laugh.

You bring him a glass of water with just a few cubes of ice. You know he doesn't like it packed to the top. "Drink this."

"What's the magic word?" Dean teases, even as you take the glass tumbler out of his hand.

You then sit next to him at the kitchen table and offer him a wry smile, resting your chin in your hand while your elbow rests on the table. "Please, will you hydrate yourself?"

"Already did," Dean remarks.

"Dean," you say, more seriously gesturing to the water. "Please."

He hesitates. But seeing your face, he finally rolls his eyes and dutifully sips at the tall glass of water.

You reach out for his shoulder. His inebriated gaze is drawn to your hand, the smooth skin of your arm, and back to your face that shows soft concern.

"You don't drink like this unless something's on your mind," you say.

Dean falters. When did you get to know him so well?

"What, a man can't drink alone anymore?" he says wryly.

"He can, but he's gonna have to spill his guts sooner or later," you smirk. Dean grimaces at the image. Suddenly the Jameson sloshing around in his gut doesn't feel all that nice. But the longer he looks at you, the worse he feels.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know," he says. He gestures, with the hand that holds his glass, up at his head. "'S not for newcomers."

"Yeah, but I'm not a newcomer, am I?" you quip.

Dean can't help it. He stares at your face. Your damn perfect face. Perfect for him.

His heart clenches with the pain of guilt. With thoughts he shouldn't have. How he'd rather slit his own wrists than hurt his little brother. Not like this, for fuck's sake.

But Dean's got a problem. It's eating him down to the bone.

He wants you. He really wants you. More than he's wanted anything in so long...

"You really wanna know?" Dean asks. His voice is both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze falls to your lips.

For your part, you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyes widen, and your body's frozen, suspended in time.

You stare back at Dean's handsome face, overgrown with stubble, like he’s forgotten to shave. And you finally know what he's been hiding for the past few months. Why he sometimes ducks out when it's supposed to be the three of you, hanging out, watching a movie, sharing a pizza, being friends and family all at once.

You sometimes thought Dean had something against you, no matter how many times Sam has said, "That's not it." With one of those pensive looks on his face.

Like he knows something you don't, and just doesn't want to speak it into existence.

But then, Sam would distract you with his hand stroking your cheek. A kiss to your lips, sweet, but with urgency. You like that about Sam. You even love that about him -- how he can be both kind and considerate, but passionate in his affections.

But now, you stare at the eldest Winchester's face. You don't even know what you're thinking.

Dean sees the blush staining your cheeks.

He leans in, slowly. He’s mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really are.

He hears your shallow breath. His eyes flick up to yours, briefly capturing you again. You smell whiskey on him, but it doesn't completely drown out his cologne. His Deanness.

You can feel your face heating up further, down to your neck. What the fuck is happening right now?

"Tell me no," Dean says. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...

"Dean, what..." you whisper. But that's not a no.

Still, he can't. He just can't do it. Not to Sam.

Dean just reaches out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realizes then that he loves you. He loves you enough to let you go, if he has to.

"It comes down to this," Dean says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire. You can see it in his eyes. He sees the conflict in yours.

He swallows. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, but he uses every ounce of self-restraint he has left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he says. And he pulls away, leaving you there at the table.

Dean doesn't know it, but your heart is about to burst just like his. What the hell! How could he do that? Why...

But you realize then, holding a hand to your wildly beating, guilt-ridden, confused heart.

You never told him no.

AN: I love Sam, don't get me wrong. But because I'm unequivocally a Dean girl, I had to leave it a bit ambiguous. 😏

Read the Sequel!

Here's the requested sequel to this, in which you have to make a choice (contains both Sam and Dean endings):

Imagine: Choosing him.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

DW Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @syrma-sensei @fabimaou @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373

#ask me stuff #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean gives you an impossible choice #dean in love with sams girlfriend #unrequited love?#sam winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam and dean #angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural #zepskies answers

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ellecdc · 4 months

Text

The Drink Snob (part 3)

mafia au!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 3.1k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: attempted drink tampering, attempted human trafficking, a lot of swearing because it's Remus and reader (obviously)

Synopsis: You take Elle's advice, Remus returns the favour.

You waited at the end of the counter for your mocha to be called through the café. You were feeling pretty good about yourself; you had an interview lined up at a nice restaurant at the end of this week, you’d guest lectured for Minerva and got great feedback from both her and the students, and you’d found time to facetime Elle twice more.

The café was fairly busy with a fair number of students trying to get their caffeine fix between classes. The barista apologized to you for the wait, but you waved him off; “I’m not in any rush right now, take your time.” You had said to him.

“That was quite polite of you.” A voice to your right commented.

You turned and raised your eyebrow at the dark-haired man. His hair was an array of curls pulled back into a low bun, and he kept his onyx gaze fixed on you.

“And that surprises you?”

He smirked at you. “From a yank? I’d have to say a little.”

“Right,” You scoffed, “I’m not American.”

He looked at you strangely at that. “You sound like an American.”

“Maybe I’m just practicing for a part.” You shot back.

He hummed in response. “A budding actress, hm?”

Before you could respond, your name was called at the counter.

“Peppermint mocha for Y/N!”

You picked up your cup and turned back to the man. “As nice as this was, I have to take my leave.”

“Come to dinner with me.” He interjected quickly. You stared at him incredulously.

“I’m sorry?”

“Come on, I want to hear more about this budding acting career of yours.” He said as he winked.

Your immediate thought was hell no. But then you thought of The Man ™ from the pub last week, and how surprising and nice it was to finally connect with someone. Wasn’t this exactly what Elle was saying you should be doing? It went against every part of your better judgement, but this opportunity had been placed in front of you twice, were you really in any position to ignore it?

“What’s your name?” You asked. You were met with a victorious smile.

“Tan.”

You considered him for a moment.

“Fine, one dinner.”

He clapped his hands together. “Wonderful, how about tonight? There’s a Spanish fusion restaurant that just opened downtown that I’ve been dying to try. I could pick you up. Say 7?”

You looked the man up and down; you may be stepping out of your comfort zone agreeing to a date with a stranger you met at a coffee shop, but you weren’t suicidal.

“I’ll meet you there.” You offered. Tan seemed to deflate a little, but the emotion passed quickly over his face.

He gave you the address and then actually kissed you on the hand before you turned and exited the café.

Were all Brit’s this bold? Was this just an English thing? You walked back to the faculty building hoping this was a meet cute opportunity you could tell Elle about.

“It’s kinda smart, really.” James commented, taking another drink from his water.

“What is?” Remus asked, not looking up from the salad he was pushing around on the plate in front of him.

“Scouting near the universities.”

Remus looked up at his mate then, his black hair as wild as ever as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His knee was bouncing under the table, and Remus knew he was just trying to make conversation while they waited for Lestrange to make his appearance, but James could be so thick sometimes.

“Yes, James. It’s almost as if the traffickers have a method that they follow to find young women they can pick up.” Remus muttered quietly, finally shifting his gaze up to the door.

“Sorry.” James muttered as he ran his hand through his hair again. “I just hate waiting.”

Remus chuckled. “I can tell.”

James made it through at least a minute and a half of silence before Remus finally took pity on him. “Harry’s so close to walking now, eh?”

James’ face lit up as he began a long tangent of his son’s different methods of movement which ranged from scooting, crawling, shifting, and rolling. “And Moony, yesterday he stood at the coffee table and walked around it all by himself! He was holding the coffee table, but still!”

Remus smiled at his friend’s happiness just as he noticed their target entering the building.

“He’s here.” Remus muttered into his collar which hid his speak piece.

“Greasy bastard, how do they manage to look creepier and creepier every time I see them?” Sirius muttered darkly into Remus and James’ earpiece from his car parked out front.

Sirius hated not being able to join on some stakeouts on account of his family. For example, Rabastan Lestrange is technically related to Sirius through marriage as he is the brother-in-law of Sirius’ first cousin Bellatrix. Sirius and Bellatrix, both Black’s by birthright, and the Lestrange’s have historically held ties to the mob boss Tom Riddle who had his followers call him Lord Voldemort. Pretentious fucks at best, but at worst they were prejuidiced, racist, bigots who were involved in human trafficking, which meant it was very important that they get caught and stopped, not the other way around. Which meant Sirius had to play back-up.

Remus was fine with that. James could be a little annoying on account of his ADHD, but he’d take that over Sirius’ inner rage any day.

Remus got it, he really did; Sirius had been surrounded by this his whole life – born and raised to carry on the Black line of arseholes, and he’s seen things many people haven’t. His family was awful and what these women and children went through at their hands was horrible, but being hot-headed in the field didn’t save them.

Remus figured Sirius would probably make a good police officer if they weren’t so corrupt, though he would struggle playing by the rules.

Maybe in another life.

“He’s got a seat in the far left. It’s secluded and near an emergency exit. Reg, are you able to get eyes back there without being caught?” James asked into his own speak piece.

“On it.” Was Reg’s response.

Remus watched the door as James watched Rabastan. People came and went but James never mentioned a change in our target, so Remus disregarded them.

Suddenly, Remus’ breath caught in his throat. No. Not her.

“We should try the croquettes.” James said - their code.

No.

“No.”

James looked up at Remus. “What?”

“It’s...” Remus started, but he didn’t know how to finish. James kept his eyes on Rabastan as you walked past Remus’ line of sight.

“Wait, is that-” James started but they were interrupted by Regulus.

“I’ve got eyes on the emergency exit.”

“Copy.” James muttered and looked back to Remus. “What is it?”

“What’s going on?” Sirius interjected in their earpieces.

“Is that the girl?” James whispered to him, causing Remus to scrunch his eyes shut.

“Wait, what?” Reg called.

James sighed. “Remus’ girl from The Drunken Sailor, it’s her.”

“Wait.” Sirius yelled causing both men to wince. “The girl Rabastan is meeting, it’s Remus’ girl?”

“She’s not my girl.”

Sirius called out the wrong name. “Right?” Sirius carried on over top of Remus.

“Y/N.” Remus corrected.

“Oh my God,” James said wide eyed at him. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I do not.” Remus started before changing gears, “fuck off, Prongs. Now is not the time. We’ve got to get her out of here.”

“Easy, Remus.” Regulus encouraged him quietly.

“Tell us how you want to go about this.” James added.

Both Black brothers shouted a what over the earpieces.

“The plan stays the same, Prongs. Same as it always is – get her out.” Sirius barked.

“No, Padfoot. This has taken on a new element. If Remus isn’t careful, he could be accused of nefarious actions himself. She’s scheduled for an interview at the restaurant in a few days.” James chided. “It’s your call.” He said to Remus.

She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in this.

She was supposed to go back to school and stay away from dingy bars – and dingy men. She was so clever; how could she have gotten swept up with Rabastan?

No.

Don’t be an arse, Remus.

These men were smart. They knew how to come off completely charming, and targeted women, well, women exactly like her.

She was a student, she was foreign, and she was probably alone when he approached her. She was their perfect target.

Remus just hoped she had kept her wits about her; she had noticed so quickly that his drink had been tampered with, hopefully she’d be just as alert tonight. Remus knew from the staff at the café that she had declined his invitation to pick her up, hopefully she didn’t give him her number, either.

“Do you want me to swap, Remus?” Regulus queried over our earpiece.

Did Remus want him to swap?

What did Remus want?

Remus kind of wanted to be the one to be sitting over there with you.

He turned to look at your table to see you place your jacket on the hook of the booth beside you. As your head was turned, Rabastan’s hand hovered over your glass of water which began to fizz.

“Moons?” James asked quietly again.

But before Remus could respond, you looked back up and your gaze found him. Your eyes and nose scrunched a little as you considered him as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You finally shook your head slightly and offered Remus a small smile before turning back to Rabastan.

Well, you knew Remus was here now.

So much for keeping her out of this.

“Now.” Remus said as he stood from his place at the table.

The world had to be fucking with you at this point, right? You weren’t actually seeing The Man™? He must just be a figment of your imagination?

Apparently, he was not just a figment of your imagination because he was suddenly standing at the end of your table as if he was about to take your order.

“We really must stop meeting each other like this.” He said with a smirk.

You chuckled nervously as you stared at his beautiful face. “Uhm, yeah. Haha. What are the odds?”

“Uhm, do you mind?” Tan said as he considered The Man ™ and you with furrowed brows.

“I do, actually.” He said severely, before a second man with a mop of curly black hair sidled up behind him looking far more pleased than his counterpart.

“Rabastan, my man, it’s been too long.” He said entirely too loudly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you offered the people around you a nervous smile.

Tan seemed to pale at the sight of the newcomer. Suddenly, his glass of water was turned over in front of him as he scrambled to stand. Before Tan could get anywhere, the curly headed man embraced him in an aggressive looking hug that involved an arm around his neck.

“You bastard, I can’t believe we let it go this long without catching up. Why don’t we have a little family reunion, hm? I know some cousins of yours who are just dying to see how you are.” He announced to the entire restaurant as he man-handled Tan to the emergency exit behind your booth.

You watched with your mouth hanging open as the door closed behind them and the restaurant returned to its appropriate volume.

You turned your head towards The Man ™ as he slid into the booth Tan had just been dragged out of for all intents and purposes.

“What?” was all you could manage to mutter.

“Don’t drink your water” was his response.

You looked down to see the table – now pooled with Tan’s water – and sat there in front of you was your water with a filmy layer on top.

“What the fuck just happened?” you muttered more to yourself than anything.

“I returned the favour.” The Man™ replied with a shrug as he mopped up the water on the table that was starting to spill onto the bench of the booth you were seated on.

“What? Were you following me around waiting for some guy to drug me?” You asked incredulously.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

You scoffed in outrage. “Do not tell me to relax you fucker, I was nearly drugged, and lord knows what else.”

“I know exactly what else.” The man snarked back. “He would have brought you out to a van that his buddies would have pulled up upon his command, they would have dumped your purse and all of your belongings in the dumpster behind some business a few blocks away, flown you to Portugal and sold you to the highest bidder, and that’s ignoring everything that would have happened in between. I can assure you, darling, that there was only one fucker here and he was just dragged away by my mate there. So please for all that is holy, relax.” He pressed the end of his sentence as he dumped your glass over as well just as a server came by.

“Oh, let me clean this up for you!” The server exclaimed at the mess just as The Man apologized in faux embarrassment. “I’ll get you two new glasses. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

Completely stunned, you decided to field the question to the infuriating man across from you who, fucking damnit, looked just as handsome as the first time you’d seen him.

“Just the waters for now, thank you.” He said with a smile which flashed his dimples, the bastard.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly which was in stark contrast from his demeanor before the server came.

“I’m fine.” You muttered probably more aggressively than you should have. “Fuck, I’m going to kill her.” You growled as you leaned your elbows onto the table and shoved your face into your hands.

“Who’s that now?”

You groaned, hands still covering your face. “My friend, the bitch. This is all her fault.”

“How so?”

“This was her idea! Going out with him, I mean.” You answered miserably as you leaned back against the booth and crossed your arms.

“Your friend knew that guy?” He asked somewhat alarmed.

You snorted a laugh. “No. She just thought I should get out more. Was so worried about me being all sad and lonely in this new city. This’ll teach her.” You muttered as you picked imaginary lint from your skirt.

The man was mirroring you; leaning against the back of his booth with his arms crossed as he seemed to consider you.

“Is that why you started handing out your CV?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow. “My what?”

The man dramatically rolled his eyes. “Oh, my apologies. I meant your resume.”

You nodded your head in understanding before slamming your hand down on the still damp table. “How do you know I’ve been handing out resumes? Are you actually stalking me?”

“No, even your luck doesn’t seem to be that bad. Though, being nearly drugged twice is not a good track record.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you were the one nearly drugged last time.”

The man smiled at you and something about it felt far softer than you felt the moment called for. “You applied at my mum’s restaurant – the one on 72nd. She was going on about finally having live music in the joint; I saw your CV.”

“I didn’t apply as a musician.” You shouted somewhat panickily. You cleared your throat before correcting yourself. “I mean, I just...I was just looking for a job as a server.”

He squinted his eyes at you before responding. “Well, good luck trying to say no to my mum.”

“What are the chances of me getting drugged if I work at your mum’s restaurant?”

This surprised a bark of laugh from him. “Actually, your chances would be quite a bit lower.”

“I don’t know...” you said suspiciously. “Every time I’ve been with you, drinks have been drugged.”

He hummed as he squinted his eyes. “Hazard of the trade.”

“And what trade is that?”

“Crime.” He said simply. You chuckled, but as you looked back up at the man, you noticed he wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, you’re serious?” You commented.

The corner of his mouth seemed to quirk at your word choice, but he offered you one quick nod.

“But...you’re the kind of criminal to have your drinks drugged and to stop other people from getting drugged?”

He moved his head side-to-side as if to say sort of.

“And you’re telling me this...because?”

“Because” he said as he seemed to square himself, “you ought to know that before you accept the position.”

The Man stood and left some bills on the table. “Are you safe to get home on your own?”

Still reeling from this whole ordeal, you nodded dumbly at him. He offered you a soft smile.

“Take it easy, Y/N.” He said as he left through the emergency exit.

It was only at his use of your name that you realized you still haven't caught his.

Remus was kicking himself. He should have just asked if you were okay and went about business as usual. He shouldn’t have sat with you, he shouldn’t have confessed about his mother’s restaurant, and he definitely shouldn’t have told you about the nature of his career. But he couldn’t let you walk into that interview without knowing what you were potentially getting yourself into.

And what would have happened if you had taken the job and then seen him there? Then you really would have suspected him of stalking.

Well, Remus has technically stalked before, but not in like a stalkery way, you know? It was like...

It was surveillance!

Fuck, he was grasping at straws.

It just seemed like the world was hell bent on shoving you in Remus’ path. And when Remus first met you – he was insistent on keeping you away from him, from this.

But you just had to drop your resume off at his family’s restaurant.

And you just had to get picked up by a human trafficking sociopath.

So, if you were going to insist on walking this dangerous line Remus calls life, you might as well know where the line is.

He didn’t know what he was more worried about: that you’d take his warning or that you wouldn’t.

Continue to part four here.

#marauders era #marauders au #reader insert #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #self insert #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #background jegulily #Sirius black being a little shit #mafia au #remus x reader #remus lupin fic

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sleepisoverrated · 3 months

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My headcanons about Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson is smart.

Like I hate it when they make him a dumb bimbo, he's hot yes he knows it, but he also has been hacking into the Pentagon for fun since he was ten, survived Spyral and several almost apocalypses. I know it's cannon since no Bat is dumb, but some fics, SOME FICS, make him look like he never went to school.

Dick Grayson knows so many languages.

I assume due to the fact that he grew up in a traveling circus he already knew a lot of languages(even if his english was bad when his parents died), but due to being robin and Bruce Wayne's ward he learned basically all major languages on Earth( and some alien) like Romani, German, French, Russian, English, Italian, Greek, Spanish, Irish, Finish, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Indian, Latin, backwards speech(Zatara), Tamoranian(i think that's how you spell it), Kryptonian, speedster(when speedsters talk super fast) and so on.

Dick Grayson has at least some immunity against Fear toxin(Ft), Joker venom(Jv).

And most of the other poisons due to constant exposure since he was 9, also when he was younger there were no antidotes for Ft and Jv so he learned how to ride them out without a sound. (You can't tell me it hasn't fucked him up somehow, like a 9 y/o being constantly exposed to these things HAS to have some consequences and while he has his immunity I also think he has extreme anxiety( like all the bats a.k.a. Bat paranoia) and constant panic attacks(next headcanon))

Dick Grayson is a master at controlling his body.

Besides the fact that he probably learned acrobatics before he could walk and was a stage performer(always smiled even if the performance got off the rails) I also think he has taught himself complete control of his body due to far too many close calls. He learned to control each muscle individually for combat under high-stress situations(where he most needs that control). This had a side effect of him being able to control his face muscle/expressions and body language. He became the best actor there will ever be, because he can keep a smile on his face even if he is in excruciating pain, he can look completely calm and relaxed even though he is having a panic attack and the opposite is true as well he can look completely terrified even though he is amused. Because of this you need to know him extremely well to tell if he's in distress(the only people so far are Alfred, Damian and Slade(he's obsessed))

Anyway if you want more of the headcanon's just say, Nightwing is one of my favourite characters I can rant about him much longer.

#dick grayson #batman #nightwing #robin #dc headcanon #nightwing headcanon #dc fandome #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #dc fanon

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spdrvyn · 11 months

Note

a Miguel x f!reader "who did this to you?" Angst fic?

bewitched by bandages — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: as per usual, you were spending your late-nights fighting crime and trying to protect the city to the best of your ability. as you are in the midst of a strenuous battle, you're sucked into a portal which brings you to what you assume to be another dimension.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: violence. harassment. somewhat detailed descriptions of wounds. angst. hurt/comfort. translated spanish (i didn't use google translate). f!reader

NOTES: GOD I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH HOLY SHIT thank you anon for sending me this ask i was gonna do this kind of thing w miguel eventually but like still mwah, sorry for being ia too btw... i'm trying to avoid getting burnt out n shit so that i keep writing stuff for you guys 🫶 anyway, ENJOOOY

"You will never be apart of this."

Those were the last words uttered to you before proclaimed protector of the multiverse, Miguel O'Hara, disappeared into the portal possibly never to be seen again.

He thought so too. At least, until he came back a week later due to yet another anomaly showing up in your dimension. Then another, then another, then another.

Humiliating was an understatement. What kind of Spider-Woman were you if you couldn't even take down one anomaly? Every time trouble came, Miguel was there to fix it. For once, you wanted to be the one to catch the beast. Hold it's severed head up to him with a big, fat smile on your face.

But that was a distant dream, only to be seen after you collapse onto your bed after an exhausting day.

You felt even more hurt when you found out that he was the leader of some kind of Spider Society. Yet, as he said when he first met you, you just weren't capable enough to join it.

Granted, he explained that it was an elite strike force but still. You were proud of yourself for making it this far into the whole Spider-woman gig, turns out that the bar was higher than you thought it was. It saddened you, deeply.

Though with time comes change. You've honed your skills and now confident enough to laugh in the face of who you were months ago, if an anomaly ever showed up again you'd show Miguel who's boss (not literally) and finally be able to join that god forsaken society.

You were much more confident in battle, actually much more confident in general. It was like you were an entirely different person to the criminals that you cowered before at night and the other more important people in your life at day.

However, there were moments where that confidence faltered.

Moments where you felt like that terrified, shameful, and naive little spider that you were mere months ago. A moment like now as you were being absolutely destroyed by one of your regular enemies.

You didn't know his name, you didn't want to bother trying to know anyway. He was the type of villain to give those excruciatingly long monologues that only dragged more and more time out of your excruciatingly long nights. So you just called him tech guy.

He is exactly what he sounds like. Covered from almost head-to-toe with different kinds of technologically advanced weaponry that made you wonder if he'd work as an appliance in a smart home.

Even when you enjoyed poking fun at the multiple devices stuck to his body, he didn't. Continuing to upgrade himself more and more each time the both of you fought. You had a feeling in your gut that your devilishly charming personality would come back to bite you in the ass someday.

He had you under the heel of his boot, quite literally this time. You bite back a grunt as his shoe continues to press into you, barely being able to look back up, you can see the absolutely smug grin on his face.

"I warned you, Spider-Woman. If only you listened to me, you would've seen this coming from miles away!"

"I'm here to—" You want to bury your face into the pavement as you can feel something sharp pierce the small of your back. "Fight bad guys not listen to lectures!"

"And look at where not listening has gotten you, little spider." Tech guy chuckled, uncomfortably close to your ear. You try to pull away but he has you pinned and he's close, too close. You swore from the corner of your eye that he had his hand raised. About to strike.

This was it, he was going to knock you out. Take you back to who knows where. Or maybe even kill you right here and right now. Leaving your corpse on the street for the citizens of New York, the citizens that you swore you'd protect to be mortified by.

You were finished, your end had come. It terrified you, if people saw your fate, who would do this job? Who would be able to gain the courage to step up? Even after knowing the dangers that lurk and entail it?

Dangers such as a portal opening up on the floor beneath you, it was blinding as you squint and your senses are immediately flooded by what feels like everything.

It's like a strong gust of wind swoops you away, the distant yells of tech guy growing quieter and quieter.

This relieved you but pained you.

As you were being blissfully carried away from whatever force was helping you right now, it put a lot of pressure on the injuries that have sustained from that scuffle.

You tried to scream, yell, shout for anyone in this space but nothing. You curl up into a ball, in attempts for it stop and hope that your next destination is the sensation of nothingness.

It was like you were being torn apart then put back together. Shifting from each form. Solid, liquid, gas, solid, liquid, gas, solid liquid, gas, solid rooftop.

What?

You groaned, looking up at the night sky of whatever hell you just landed in. You tried to sit up and you were able to! But with a now bleeding lip in attempts to muffle the absolutely bloodcurdling scream that you were about to let out.

Wherever you were, it wasn't hell (thankfully) but it definitely wasn't New York. At least not your New York.

Everything was strangely futuristic. Flying cars, sleek architecture, a lot of grass to your surprise, and beautiful lights that finished the beautiful view off.

The rooftop that you had landed on was no different either, whoever owned this place had a spectacular taste in furniture and it showed here. As you looked to your side, it seemed that it also connected to a bedroom. An empty bedroom.

God, you were going to feel so guilty about this later.

Fighting back yet another pained noise from coming out of your mouth, you manage to build the strength to get up on your two feet and stumble towards the entrance.

You take your slow strides and get to observe the room in the process, it was very spacious. A huge monitor hanging on one wall, a huge closet on the other side, not to mention that it has a bathroom attached, what would it be without a huge bed in the middle of it all?

To your dismay, you're only able to make it a few steps in before needing to grip the bedsheets for dear life.

The dear life that you might lose when you hear the muted sounds of someone talking from outside.

You're not really able to make any words out but it sounded like whoever they were, they yelled out to someone. Suddenly, she appeared in front of you.

A lady, dressed in a somewhat lengthy but quite fashionable fur coat, she adorned a pair of heart shaped sunglasses as she looked at the TV in the room with a puzzled look on her face.

It's not long before she catches sight of you, eyes widening and both of you exchange glances. You bring your index finger to your mouth in a placating gesture but it only gets worse as she calls out:

"... Miguuueeeeel!"

Miguel? Miguel?

Frantically, you wave your hands around in an attempts to shush her but your heart rate spikes as her body practically phases through you. Hologram. You were throwing hands with a hologram.

And it's like the whole world stops when the bedroom door slides open, your worst fears had come true.

There he stood. Miguel O'Hara. Although something felt different, and you realized that his mask was off. The first thing that came to mind was the unamused pout that he wore, eyes that stared down at you disappointedly, and a broad frame that took up nearly the entire doorway.

The silence was deafening, you could hear it ringing in your ears. So deafening that you could hear your heart drumming in your chest, your shallow breaths, his footfalls as he walked over to you. Before turning his head to his hologram lady.

"Lyla, scan this." Lyla nodded before looking you up and down, wherever her eyes followed it scanned. She turns back to Miguel with the prognosis on your injuries. "Fifteen scratches, ten bruises, and a slightly fractured rib."

The noise that Miguel let out irked you a little, you could feel how heavy it was as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I have a lot of articles that could help with fixing this mess, big guy."

"No, it's fine. I can deal with this myself,"

"If you say so."

Lyla seemingly poofs into thin air, leaving you alone with him and a whole lot of questions that you have to ask. Even then, even if you were the one technically intruding in his home, you couldn't break the silence. Where to even start?

"Who did this to you?" Well, okay. That was a start. You tried to open your mouth to even get a small explanation out but as you attempted to piece your thoughts together, the more it felt like your brain fogged up.

Miguel had unfortunately noticed this too, what a way to make an impression after weeks of not seeing each other. "Just sit down." You obviously complied, careful not to let any blood drip down onto his sheets, you hoped that you wouldn't embarrass yourself further.

Those months of training, those months of self-improvement, those months of trying to be better all shattered within an instant as you saw Miguel rummage through his closet, cursing under his breath until he emerged with a first aid kit.

It felt so hard to think about anything and everything. Well, not really. There were a million thoughts racing through your head right now, most of them being what exactly was going through Miguel's head.

Was he disappointed? It would be a lot more unlikely if he wasn't if you were completely honest. Was he upset? If you saw someone you didn't hold in a high regard just magically appear on the roof of your home all beat up, you wouldn't be the happiest in the world.

There wasn't even a single peep out of him as he opened the small kit, equipping himself with what looked to be a medical cream and rolls of bandages. You spared him just a small glance, you were expecting him to look you dead in the eye with nothing but pure unbridled rage for ruining his night but instead?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He was laser focused on treating you right now or what you had thought to be a more plausible situation: he was just too disheartened to even look at you.

And you completely understood why, therefore ripping your gaze away from his eyes and moving down to his hands instead. You watched intently as the part around his hands dissolved into mere pixels before he swiped up a good amount of the cream onto his fingers, then gestured for you to hold your arm out.

Once the medicine came into contact with your wounds, tears dared to prick at your eyes. Fuck, it hurt a lot but you didn't really need to ruin his impression of you any further. You resorted to biting down hard on your lip and turning your head away.

Miguel, being the ever observant one, noticed this as well.

"You owe me an explanation." He was right. You did. You were quite confident that if you stayed radio silent for the rest of the night, you would be sleeping on the cold, cold streets of this world. "I've surmised that you got sucked into a portal then ended up here but most don't end up with injuries this bad."

There goes a good chunk of your explanation, which played well on your end. You didn't even want to begin describing what being transported from dimension to dimension felt like. Still, you wanted to play this cool.

"I was just in a fight, it was nothing serious."

"Nothing serious? Did you hear the results of that scan?"

You can't help how your cheeks flush at his quip, perhaps you were playing it too cool. If you tried too hard, he'd probably be able to see right through you but before you could even attempt defending yourself, he butts in.

"Qué dolor de cabeza." You heard him mutter. "I need more details about this, how many people were in the fight? What were they like? I'm not a mind reader."

His tone was harsh, it felt like he was cutting your scars open rather than healing them. You semi-understood why he was a leader, he had a way of making demands that was for sure.

"It was just one guy, but he had a lot of mechanical attachments. Saws, tentacles, other blades." As you explained, Miguel finished up bandaging your arm and gestured for your other one. You shifted slightly in position and held that up as well, sucking in a sharp breath as he goes through the routine of applying the disinfectant.

He seemed to just hum at your answer like he wasn't relentlessly asking you questions moments ago, you assumed that he wanted to hear more information so you kept talking. Like an idiot.

"I'm not the biggest tech person, you know? I was just swinging through and then he ambushed me, every time I've encountered him, he just continued to get stronger and stronger."

"Every time? How many times exactly?"

He emphasized 'exactly' as if you were actually supposed to count but even if you presented those kinds of details with a whole ass statistic chart, the answer would still disappoint him.

"Probably more than five. Like I said, he upgrades and–"

"Yes, yes. You said that already." He interrupts you again, hurriedly finishing up your arm before he rolls up the bandages; throwing them back into the aid kit with a very audible thud.

If there was another talent of his, it would be how very quickly he's able to shatter your pride.

"What are you trying to do here?" He asks you. You know you shouldn't be asking questions at risk of making yourself look even more stupid but with how vague that was, it felt like you had the right to. "What are you talking about?"

"You're trying to impress me. I'm asking you this stuff to know more about the nature of your injuries and you're trying to goddamn impress me. Why?"

Oh.

Clearly, since it felt like he knew so much more about you, you just looked at him. How could this possibly get any worse after all? No matter what you said, no matter how hard you tried, it would all be for naught in the end.

"If this is about what I said when we first met, these antics of yours seriously aren't helping your case." Your body went numb. "Then, after I clear all the anomalies in your dimension, you come flying back to me. Seriously?"

Your mind went numb.

This felt like more than just a reality check to you, no. Every single criticism that shot back at you continued to break you down into smaller, smaller pieces.

You dreamt about meeting him again someday, and it did not look like this in the slightest. Only now, if you thought about what that scenario would be like, you'd conk yourself in the head for being so fucking delusional.

The distant dream of him entering your dimension, to see an anomaly in your capable hands, to hear that gravelly voice that has only continued to criticize you praise you for your deeds, then you'd get recruited into the Spider Society and save the multiverse to your heart's content.

Oh, how dumb and naïve you were. Clearly, you still are both of those things. His words spoke enough about that. You didn't want to be here as much as he did.

"I didn't want this," You finally said, the most coherent thought throughout this whole mess. "Any of this to happen. I just– I don't get it at all."

"Don't get what?"

"What I'm doing wrong," You sigh, lip quivering as tears dared to fall. This time, it wasn't because of medicine. You hoped it was. "I've trained for so long, I've tried my hardest. You might not think so but I have, I really have. But it seems like I'm making a mess of it all."

With each second that passed, the dam dared to break.

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room, but this one scared you even more. A while ago, even if he didn't say a word, you knew how he felt about you. About your predicament.

But now? You had no clue. He could embrace you, comfort you, tell you that it's okay and he understood how you felt. You could've pushed his temper to his limits, he would scream, shout, yell, and kick you out of his penthouse.

"This doesn't have anything to do with your training," Like that, Miguel took a sharp pin to the atmosphere and popped it. "It has something to do with your mindset."

Now, you were the one to give him a confused glare. He sighs, eyes scanning over your sorry state once more,

"You did this, all this, to get into my strike force and to woo me whatnot." Before looking back up at you. Don't be mistaken, the harshness in his face is still there but from what he was saying, it didn't seem to be what you had originally thought.

"The reason why you're so stuck is because I shouldn't be the first goal in your mind, you should. Are you following?" You nod.

"Good. You need to understand, this job isn't about trying to meet a standard or getting someone to notice you. Self-improvement. It's all in the title. Self-improvement."

You shiver as his warm hand rests on your shoulder. "If you're already this hung up on trying to win me over, take a step back and think about who's approval matters more. Yours or mine?"

Yours.

It clicked. Everything fit into place and the dam broke, though that should have been more obvious to you when Miguel's face had started to look a little foggier.

At first, you had expected him to hand you a tissue or something but he didn't move from his place. Instead, resorting to rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in a weird, seemingly unfitting gesture.

You swiftly wiped your tears away with your palm, stifling a sniffle as you ask yet another question.

"So, do you think I'll have a chance of getting in someday?"

A snarkly reply or scoff was what you had anticipated but what he just did was probably the most shocking turn of events looking back at the whole night.

He chuckled.

"I'll keep you in touch."

request rules here, masterlist here

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leoascendente · 4 months

Text

PAC/ Who's thinking about you? ✨️

Hi my loves! ❤️ Welcome to this new pac about the person who has you currently on their mind. As always, take only what resonates with you and leave what doesn't. Take a deep breath before choosing your pile and pick the one that calls you the most, hope you like it :)

My blog in Spanish here

Paid readings here

The pictures are taken from the blog of @simena, my absolute favorite blog, highly recommended<3

Pile 1/Pile 2/ Pile 3

Pile 1:

Who and why?:

(Cards: 3 of wands, 4 of cups rev, 8 of swords rev, death/ ace of pentacles, 7 of swords rev, 4 of pentacles, hermit rev)

I feel a friendship vibe from this pile, this is a person that you thought would be in your life for a really long time, you felt really happy and fulfilled by this person's side, everything seemed to be fie but something happened that you lost contact with eachother, for some I see you had to consciously pull them off your life because they were becoming a toxic influence. Even though you had future plans with this person, maybe a travel or something like that, you decided to leave them behind or the relationship ended before aything bad could happen to you. I feel this was a friendship of yours who was troublesome but you didn't realize of their true colors until it was late, I see here that you really loved and appreciate them deeply and their actions after the separation dissapointed you, like the kind of people that talks bad at your back so they look nicer to the eyes of others.

This person feared that you could find out some truths about them that they wanted to keep hidden, I'm also hearing 'copycat' energy so this person was trying to make theirs your ideas or projects, this person lacks originality and have to absorv it from others like a parasite, even if sounds bad. I really feel that the person who decided to cut off this relationship was you in order to protect yourself and your wellbeing, it might sound weird but it seems like everything was fine on the outside but there was a perceptible tension in the air that you were avoiding or not giving the proper importance to. They are thinking about you because you were a lighthouse for them, their life was better when you were on it and they know it.

Future actions:

(Cards: queen of wands rev, wheel of fortune rev, page of swords, queen of swords)

This person will try to enter your life again, expect a suddent text message or call from them, it has taken them a lot of effort to do it and I even see the have written you before but never sent the message. I take the queen of swords as an advice for you to act more strategicaly and, if you feel like responding the message or call, do it in a cold way because they are coming from a place of interest not love, and might even try to force an argument to prove you wrong. This person is projecting a lot of things over you because they feel small, even more if this separation between you two happened a long time ago, this person feels frustrated about the fact that you could move on and they don't, they might even be jealous of how your life is currently going and the blessings you are receiving. Things look to be moving against this person and they saw you as their lucky charm, now that they don't know how to get out of the circumstances they created, they are coming back into your life for you to save them. Be intelligent my dear, don't let them manipulate you because those are their intentions, play smart.

Pile 2

Who and why?:

(Cards: 7 of wands, hanged man, 3 of swords rev, 10 of pentacles/ knight of swords rev, 5 of wands, 5 of cups rev, empress rev)

Gosh, this person is intense as hell, the kind of person that always has their guard up because thinks that the whole world is against them, always on fight or flight mode. You had a fight or argument with this person that led to break the relationship, this person might be a pisces sun or moon, this person is really defensive and rarely take things lightly, it feels like living in survival mode, it could be a family member for what I'm feeling. For a little amount of you I see that this person could be a love interest that kept you moving back and forth but never commiting to you, they used you for their own interest and avoiding facing the truth of their behavior, this person, whoever it is, is really conflictive within themselves and with the world, they don't know how to keep and care the relationships in their life. If you resonate with the love interest option, this person might be dealing with someone that will treat them the same way they treated you, they are about to receive a heavy karmic lesson.

This person was a little jealous of you, and instead of being ispired by your energy they saw you as a threat even though it was never your intention to make them feel that way. I see that this person holds so much anger and rage within that they need to create any excuse to start an argument so they can release those emotions in a toxic way with people that don't really deserve it. You know that kind of people that get yelled at on their work by their boss and act submissive but when they arrive home they start yelling at everyone the way they wish they yelled at their boss? Well, that's the kind of vibe I'm getting from this person. They think of you from time to time but when you appear in their mind they try hard to pull you away from their thoughts, they have remorse and they know why, they are just avoiding reality and the consequences of their own actions.

Future actions:

(Cards: 4 of pentacles, tower rev, 10 of swords rev, 6 of cups)

This person really misses you, with two 10 cards in their spread I feel like they have solved some issues that were a trouble in your relationship when you were dealing with eachother, right now they feel more positive but they still have this melancholic energy when it comes to you because they know that they could end up things in a more positive light, . They are not going to approach you, their pride is too big for that but, they think about you pretty often and, when they do, they feel remorse and guilt, they know that you were a good influence for them and are aware that their behavior was a burden that caused all the disaster. Anyway, this person thinks that you made them really happy and miss those joyful moments, they know you are a good person and recognie all the good things you made for them, they might be even looking for you in other people because I keep hearing on repeat on my mind the song Glimpse of us (beautiful song but with a very toxic message, it's singed by joji, in case you want to check it)

Pile 3:

Who and why?:

(Cards: star rev, 7 of cups rev, page of wands, strenght rev/ justice, judgement, 4 of swords, page of swords)

This might be a love interest that ghosted you and, for what it seems, for no reason, but in fact they really had serious reasons to pull you away, it might not be ghosting per se but right now there's no contact between you two for any given reason, like things just got cold. This person had a lot of unsolved bussinesses in their life that they needed to be attended by the moment they met you, this person might look very outgoing and resolutive on the outside but there's a deep anxiety they are trying very hard to hide, they might even be using sports as an scape mechanism to stop thinking about everything that's currently on their table. There's a lot of attraction between both of you and this person feels it very intensely, you left a significative mark on them and they can't forget about you, and in fact, they don't want to forget you at all but now they don't feel enough for you, or at least, like they can't offer you what you deserve.

The why is a little more complex than what I expected, for some there could be legal matters involved that they had to solve, maybe this is some kind of forbidden relationship and this person was in the middle of a divorce, whatever it is, law is involved here, for those who don't, they are going through a serious karmic lesson. This person has you on high regard and wants to offer you something real and stable but they know that the circumstances weren't the right ones, they want to present themselves as the perfect match for you and, instead of being honest and tell you about what's going on in their life they decided to let things at pause waiting for the perfect moment to come back.

Future actions:

(Cards: 3 of swords rev, high priestess, hierophant, knight of cups)

This person is coming back into your life with their heart on their hands ready to give it to you, they see you as their counterpart and they regret deeply for not acting correctly with you. Now that their problems are solved they want to come back but they have this fear of you having the door closed for them, I see they have an apology and an explanation for you but they are scared that you might reject them for their behavior. They've been thinking a lot about you and you have probably thought a lot about them too, even have some psychic glimpses of this person like dreams or intuitive toughts. Expect soon a contact from this person, they won't take too long. There's a soulmate/ twin flame connection between you two, and even if this person don't know about this kind of connections they know that there's something special here and that your connection and chemistry is true.

#witchblr #leoascendente #tarot #divination witch #tarotblr #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #pick a picture #tarot spread #tarotcommunity

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meiluu · 6 months

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“Touch Her, and I’ll Kill You”

Leon S. Kennedy/ AFAB!Reader [no gendered pronouns, if there are let me know so I can fix it :D] cw: SMUT 18+, blood & gore, Leon goes feral, protective Leon, Plaga!Leon. Terms you may not be familiar with and their meanings: Round- the entire bullet and its casing, the bullet is the tip and the casing is the metal that surrounds it and holds gun powder which allows for the bullet to travel when the gun powder is ignited. Magazine- the term for rounds that are incased in either a type of metal or hard plastic and feed into a handgun or a rifle from the bottom. It is not the same as a ‘clip’.

not edited

Leon pov.

Leon was beyond pissed, this mission to save the presidents' daughter had gone from bad to fucking horrible. He was lucky enough to have another agent along with him, you. Someone who Leon cared for-trusted and you had been separated from him and Ashley. And he was losing what last bit of sanity he had left, he knew that you were strong, capable and so smart. All logic pointed to you being able to hold your own until they were able to find you, or until you found them. But Leon's heart was overruling his brain, taking full control, as his mind was in overdrive as it pushed each of his senses and his knowledge to try and find you. And all of this was pushed into the extremes now because of Leon being infected with the Las Plaga.

Saddler wished he could control the lethality that Leon possessed but the Plaga that he had been infected with seemed wholly under Leon's control and wouldn't respond to his commands.

With his guns at the ready, knife sharp enough to cut through anything, Leon was prepared to go to hell and back to get you. Having heard some spanish grumbles from one of the infected villagers giving him a much needed lead to find you. The chill air of the night nipping at his arms, the darkness of the night keeping him concealed as he made his way to a decrepit building. Turning back to make sure that Ashley was still in the secure spot he left her in- satisfied that she wasn't following him, he continued onward. Gun at the ready as he silently made his way into the building, once inside he made quick work of scanning his surroundings seeing no infecteds around, he moved further in. Footsteps light, measured breathing as Leon moved with a purpose, but that all falters when he hears your enraged cry.

There are hundreds if not thousands of stories out there that talk about feeling so angry that you see red. Stories of people blacking out as they fight whoever it was that threatened them or someone they cared about. That was not the case here. Leon has never felt so focused than now, as he ran to the sound of your cry. Reaching a room with dozens of infecteds along with a grotesque monster trying to give you the las plaga. What was only a few seconds, felt like an eternity in Leon's mind. His vision had completely zeroed in on the monster in front of you, his mind coming up with the perfect way to get you out and kill everything within this room. Then he was moving.

Firing off three rounds into the monster, in its faltered state it let go of you, letting you fall to the hard floor below you. Running towards you in long strides, Leon grabs your arm flinging you behind him- sliding you across the floor towards the entranceway of the room. Unnatural strength that only the las plaga could give him, using every facet to his advantage.

By the time the creature had gained it bearings Leon was right in its face, grabbing onto the creatures deformed face- bringing it down to ground. Smashing its skull into the concrete floor, its dark red blood splattering onto the ground and onto him. Raising his head he saw the swarm of infecteds running towards him- quickly aiming his sights onto the closest ones. Seven more rounds leave his gun, seven infected fall to the ground with 9mm holes through their skulls. Hearing the click of an empty magazine, with not enough time to reload Leon's holstering his gun and grabbing his knife. With an infected near inches from his face, he's stabbing the knife into its skull- a satisfied squelch greets Leon's ears. Its face falls as the life in its eyes is smothered out. Retching his knife from the skull, he's swinging wide cutting another infected’s neck-nearly taking its head off its shoulders. Both of their bodies crumbled to the ground- but there are more headed his way.

Eyes that no longer held that sky blue color but instead were a red crimson with black veins standing out against his skin that became more prominent as he fought. With the last infected slumping to the ground with its decapitated head being carelessly flung to the floor. Breathing hard, shoulders rising in falling as Leon gains control over his breathing again. Satisfied that there was no more threats within the room he's turning back to where you were still sat near the entrance. Your face was marred with a shocked expression, a mix of fear and awe at what you had just witnessed. "Are you ok?" Leon's voice is husky with exertion, your eyes meet his as you nod your head. With quick long strides Leon closes the distance between you two.

Picking you up from the floor like you weighed nothing bringing you into his embrace, burying his head into the crook of your neck inhaling your mouth-watering scent. Letting it ground him, he had found you and you were okay. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, he felt your arms hesitantly wrap around his shoulders. "I'm okay, Leon. Are you?" your voice was nervous. Not that you didn't secretly relish with the embrace from someone who you had been crushing on for awhile but after what you saw you were a bit afraid of pushing him too far. Though somewhere in the back of your mind you knew Leon would never hurt you- even with the plaga, within him. "Yes." a short and gruff reply was all you got from him.

"Where's Ashley?"

"Safe."

"Ok, lets go meet back up with her so we can get you both help."

"No."

"Leon-" unable to finish as Leon warm tongue is licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to the spot right below your ear. "You smell so good, we don't have to leave now." his voice is smooth and full of desire. "But we-" a soft gasp interrupts you, as Leon gently bites into the sensitive skin of your neck. “Let me have you.” His words are rough as he says them into your skin. Your mind blanks, there’s no way this is happening right now! “Leon- right here?!”

“Yes here, now.” No hesitation to be found in his proclamation. Maybe it was the fact that his scent was overwhelming your senses or maybe it was the fact that you’ve dreamed about being with him (maybe not like this). Whatever the case your mind was giving into his advances just like your body had already surrendered to him. Not that there was really ever a want to ‘fight’.

“Ok, but what if someone comes in here?"

“I’ll hear them before they get that close to us.” So assured of himself, no room for doubt. But you never had reason to doubt him and his capabilities.

And with some of your worries eased Leon is lifting his head from your neck. Locking his gaze with yours, his once beautiful baby blue orbs are a vicious red with black veins to accentuate them. You knew this was because of the plaga but it seemed that he had full control over himself- unlike the other people who were infected. But your thoughts are halted by his soft lips claiming yours.

Eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness of his taste, a gentle dance that quickly turns heavy as Leon nips at your bottom lip- pushing in his tongue to dance with yours. A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through Leon's chest, the intoxicating taste of you has his body burning with need. Pulling you both down onto the hard floor, lips still locked together- soft gasps of air echoing out in the space around you. Your hands are running through Leon's soft blond locks as his hands drift down. Rubbing his thumbs over your pebbling nipples eliciting a whimper from your swollen lips, hands leaving a fiery trail down towards your navel but then he is pulling his hands away from you. A pathetic sound leaves your lips at the lose of his warmth but you are quick to shut up when your eyes catch onto his teeth pulling off his gloves from his hands, discarding them like trash.

And as quickly as those gloves where thrown away are his hand back onto you, pulling up your shirt, his calloused hands caress the soft flesh of your navel. One hand travel up back to your left breast as the other dips below the waist of your pants going straight to your neglected clit. "Leon." a breathy moan of his name leaves you as he begins to swirl your clit with his thumb while two of his fingers work you open- stretching you out. The hand that had been massaging your breast retreats from under your shirt as it goes to unstrap your leather harness where your empty gun rests in. Clattering to the ground Leon pulls your shirt off of you- freeing your tits. Leaving your mouth his head is headed down taking a perked nipple into his warm mouth- swirling his tongue and softly nipping at it. Making sure not abandon the other nipple as he gives the same treatment to it.

With all of his combined menstruations your already close to your peak, fingers diligently pumping into you at a stead pace, clit buzzing in ecstasy while your chest radiates pleasured tingles throughout your body. Mouth hanging open to allow all your noises of pleasure to run free, but before you can reach that blinding peak Leon is harshly removing himself from you. A cry leaves you, you were so close, eyes raising from where they had been watching Leon worship your breasts. Now your eyes are watching Leon as he sits up on his knees, undoing his belt nearly ripping it in half. Then shoving his pants down along with his boxers- freeing his cock. Precum dibbles down the angry tip- weeping in anticipation. His hands soon find your pants yanking them down and off of you along with your drenched panties.

Your arousal hits Leon at full force now that there was no barriers between your cunt and him. Every basic instinct within him coiled with his care for you and then amplified by the plaga had turned him to a much more raw version of himself. This, what he was doing to you, was something so much more than just fuckin someone who he cared about or found attractive. (Both of those things were true). He needed you like he needed air, you had always balanced him out and you both were always so in sync with one another. Maybe it was the plaga within his veins, but at the end of the day, in the back of Leon's mind he knew all of this was true. He needed to fuck you so that you knew how much he needed you- in his plaga riddled mind combined with the past adrenaline of trying to find you and nearly going insane without you beside him- it made perfect sense to him. You were his just like how he was yours, wholly and completely yours.

He killed for you and would do it again without hesitation, he would search to the ends of the earth to find you if you became lost. And so, warm and calloused hands pulled you to him- no space left between- cock bumping against your clit and then was pushed into your wet heat. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the fullness, something you hadn't experience before. His pelvis meeting yours, hilt buried deep within you, he had reached heaven and nothing could ever compare to this feeling of being in your embrace. Grabbing your legs and placing them upon his shoulders, leaning down until his face was right above yours- with his hands now down below at the base of your spine lifting you up for him to fuck into as deep as possible.

Rough and deep was the pace Leon set, your moans unashamedly are cried out into the air around you. Not like you had a chance to smother your noises- how could you when he was hitting the inner most parts of you? With the tip of his cock bruising your g-spot as it sweetly kissed your cervix.

He was utterly ruining you, nothing would ever top this, you could never fuck anyone else without thinking of him. But would you want to fuck anyone else besides him? No, he was so perfect, the two of you fit each other so well why would you want anything else?

Deep groans mixed with husky moans tumble from his beautiful mouth, hypnotizing you in their melody. Your mind was dripping out of your ears to make room for the mind-numbing pleasure his cock was giving you. Every vein and ridge massaging your walls just right, the girth stretching you out to near pain and his length was able to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him. "Fuck-Fuck," Leon's words are rough with exertion, but he never once slowed down his pace.

Skin slapping against skin, the lovely sound of your cunt squelching with ever thrust of his cock into you, all in tandem with his full balls hitting your ass. Your peaking is coiling tight within your belly, and it snaps before you can even voice it to Leon, cunt erratically spasming around him milking him for his own release. With a couple more thrust Leon is burying himself as deep as he can get, as his balls tighten, releasing every drop of cum within your warm cunt. Pants leave him as you both try to come down from that earth shattering orgasm. And just as you think Leon's going to pull out of you he's turning you onto your stomach, leaning over you- shadowing your body with his- as he starts fucking with just as much vigor as before.

"Leon!"

"I'm not done with you yet-"

Mind going hazy with pleasure as your cunt lovingly continues to suck in his cock- obviously on the same page with Leon. You needed more and he was going to deliver on that. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped that Ashley was safe, where ever she was because you and Leon would be here for a long while.

*hehe i've cooking this one for awhile, hopefully y'all enjoy it >:) *

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skylarsblue · 11 months

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✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

~✦Part Two✦~

✧Alejandro, Rodolfo, König, Alex✧ ✦GN!Reader, mostly fluff, mild descriptions of wounds/combat/war, random call signs and some use of y/n, minor sexual tension, inconsistencies with canon timelines because I'm better than the games(/j), I started this before König was called a colonel, poorly translated Spanish & German that I apologize for (correct me please-)✦

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Civilians let out screams and ducked into houses to hide. Tan colored vans and trucks lined the streets of Mexico as shots were fired. The moments of quiet were as worrisome as the sounds of gunfire in a situation like this. Alejandro cursed as yet another man declared their ammo low. They were running out, at the rate they were going, they’d need to pull back. Alejandro was a stubborn man, however, and bowing down to a cartel would’ve done damage to the credibility of his men, along with his own ego. “Colonel, there’s a car coming in. Unmarked.” His radio crackled with the information. “Aye, watch it. Keep looking. Does it look like the enemy?” Alejandro replied, getting a negative in response. As if there wasn’t a risk of fire being brought out, the car stopped in the middle of a paused stand off. Out of the vehicle stepped one person, dressed in a way that stood out completely. “What in the hell is this?” Alejandro hissed as he watched the civilian look around. They were wearing a mask of porcelain, decorated elegantly with gold paint, almost like a statue of crying Virgin Mary. He locked eyes with them, and they…motioned for him to pause. “What do we do?” The soldier beside Alejandro asked. “Sir, I think I know who this is.” His radio called. He watched as the stranger turned to confused members of the enemy, raising their hand to the sky. Three fingers, two, and then one. The cartel’s side of the street blew up and the stranger ran for cover. “Mierda! What the fuck is happening?!” A soldier exclaimed. Alejandro’s radio triggered again with enthusiastic laughter. “Resistance sir, the one I’ve been telling you about!” The colonel took a breath. “The one run by civilians? How’d they set this up?” He asked roughly, aiming his gun to take a shot. “They’re smart, sir. That one you saw? That’s their leader. A talk with them would be a good idea, they’re a powerful ally, a stronger bond could prove useful.” Alejandro looked across the field in awe as the stranger took out a few more cartel soldiers. They then looked at him, giving him a nod and a salute. For the first time that day, Alejandro smiled. “A strong ally indeed.”

(I make them speak mostly English so I avoid making mistakes in Spanish, I'm sorry-) It had been a month since that day, and three weeks since Alejandro & Rudy had properly met the mysterious masked individual. They'd proven themselves rather charming, even if a bit suspicious. Alejandro had been rather excited to meet the individual who'd managed to secretly gather well-trained civilians to aid them against the cartel, pulling stunts like they did before. Though their real name was a heavily guarded secret, much like their face, they did have a name of sorts to associate with them. Los Lares, in reference to Roman mythological deities that provided protection. Their leader, the masked individual, known only as Padres, though occasional nicknames popped up from individuals they were close with. Alejandro had done his best to assess whether they were trust worthy or not, they did the same to him. And after two successful mini missions, Padres agreed to show Alejandro, Rudy, and some of his men what they'd been hiding. "Well would you look at this..." Alejandro said quietly as they drove through a small village. Guarded heavily with armed civilians was a tiny town commandeered by Los Lares, rather than the cartel. Kept safe from the carnage in the rest of Las Almas. The car rolled through slowly, allowing them to gaze at buildings without bullet holes, covered in colorful decorations. Children ran around playfully, adults standing around and talking, some small market carts on the edge of the street that gave out fresh food and household items. Music playing over speakers. Not a single skull balaclava in sight. Rudy pulled over and parked by a building at the end of the long street. The shell of a church it seemed. Outside of it was Padres, running around with children on their tail. When they noticed the men that had pulled up, they declared for the children to play on their own for a bit. Alejandro couldn't stop his smile as he continued looking around, eyes falling back on them. "This is what you meant by Sanctuary." He said. "Si, I made it myself. No violence occurs here, no fear. How it should be." They explained. "Rodolfo. My second in command, Emil, wanted to discuss things with you, if you wouldn't mind." Padres said, motioning to the man behind them. Rudy looked at Alejandro, who nodded. Rudy walked off after that and left them alone. "I see why you were so secretive now." Alejandro stated, watching them nod. "It usually takes a lot longer to be allowed access here. But I knew you'd be trust worthy." They explained as they leaned against the jeep he'd arrived in. He crossed his arms and leaned on the car as well. "And when did you decide this?" He asked. Padres chuckled and blinked at him past the holes of their mask. He wondered how eye contact alone could make him feel so warm, tingly. "I met your gaze during that gun fight and I could tell. You have the light of angels, querido." They purred. Alejandro chuckled quietly and shook his head fondly. "¿Coqueteando? ¿De verdad?" He asked in a hushed voice, leaned in slightly. They raised both hands in mock surrender. "I see a lot in your eyes, Colonel. Many, many things. Tu disfrute es uno." They teased. Alejandro ran his tongue over his teeth. "Si? I see things in your eyes too." He replied. Padres tilted their head and silently urged him to elaborate. Alejandro let out a breath and smiled. "Peligro. Mucho." He exhaled, senses lit aflame when he saw the distinct signs of a smile hidden behind the mask.

Alejandro enjoyed when he had time to visit the sanctuary Padres had created. There was so much joy around and peace filled the air, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like his shoulders could relax. That he could be at ease. In his visits, he often saw families, children running around with big grins, hearing the innocent laughter always brought Alejandro joy and a sense of longing. He'd always been the familial type with a large soft spot for kids. It showed in his actions, like currently, as he let two boys hang off of his arms like some playground equipment. They giggled and squealed in jovial fun as he hoisted them higher, though he set them down gently when their mother's face grew a bit apprehensive. It was when a little girl, leading a group of children, asked to play hide & seek that things really got to be fun. Alejandro found himself hiding under a table in one of the homes, another child at his side. He held his finger to his lips as they giggled away behind their hands. Both of them seized up when evenly spaced footsteps made themselves present, too heavy for a child. Alejandro had a quick flash of memories that made his body tense up, watching the table cloth be lifted. But it wasn't an enemy, nor a child, but instead a porcelain mask with a smiling individual underneath. "Room for one more?" They asked in a whisper. Alejandro blinked before he snickered and nodded. Both he and the child carefully scooted back to allow Padres more room. "Isn't our hiding spot good, Padres?" The child asked excitedly. "Si, Rosa, it is. I almost couldn't find you both." They replied in a tone akin to a praising mother, something that made Alejandro's chest ache. "What gave us away?" He asked them, smiling wider when they glanced his way. "Your boots, colonel. Your laces were untied, they poked out from underneath." They answered, prompting Alejandro to look. Sure enough, his left boot lace was untied. He sighed and shook his head at the rookie mistake, still grinning however. A beat of silence passed before a rush of tiny footsteps came in, prompting the three to be extra quiet. "Got'cha!!" The little girl declared as she lifted the table cloth. Rosa screamed and laughed, quickly getting up to run away. Both Alejandro and Padres stayed, watching Rosa make a swift get away from her friend running after her. Leaving them both alone under the table. "You are good with kids." The self-appointed commander said fondly. Alejandro melted at the sentiment alone, it always felt like one of the highest level compliments when someone said it. Even more so coming from them. "Gracias, Padres." He said, only for them to shake their head. "Y/N. My name is Y/N, when we are alone, you may call me that." They said softly, leaving Alejandro surprised. The shock wore off quickly and a pleasant tenderness filled the air, showing in their shared gaze. "Losing the mystery, aye?" He asked. "No, merely trusting you with my secrets. I trust I made a good decision?" They replied. Alejandro nodded. "Now I just have to get that mask off of you." He teased. They gave a quiet laugh. "I can't wait..."

It was always nice to celebrate after a successful mission, especially one as high stakes as this. With a large threat neutralized, it seemed like a big party was the right answer. There was a large hand of help from Los Lares, and the citizens who called the refuge home saw it only right to allow Alejandro's men into their sanctuary, to indulge in their victory with loud music and home cooked meals. Alcohol as well, of course. Alejandro stood on a roof and watched the streets below, lit up with colorful lights and bustling with music. He felt his shoulders relax as he watched his soldiers mingle, laughing loudly, raising toasts to their lost brothers & sisters. He took a swig of beer as his gaze shifted to the sky, full of twinkling stars. He went to take another drink, only to find the bottle empty. He debated going back down to grab another one, only to feel a hand rest on his lower back. He flinched and looked over, met with a familiar mask and a kind gaze. "Need another, colonel?" Y/N asked softly, holding up an open beer. Alejandro chuckled and took it, setting the empty one on the roof's edge. "Gracias. How'd you know?" He asked. He turned his body to watch them, even spaced steps taking them to a couple of supply crates. They took a seat and shrugged, he could feel their calm smile in their aura. "Lucky guess. You weren't down there, spotted you up here and I figured you'd like some company. Was I right?" They asked with a head tilt. He walked closer with an exhale. "Yes and no." He answered. They silently encouraged him to elaborate, tilting their head to look up at him as he came to stand in front of them. "Oh?" Alejandro chuckled and set the beer down beside them. "I was looking forward to your company." He admitted. Even in the low light of the moon, he could see their pupils expand. "Such a charmer, Mr.Vargas." They teased in a hushed tone. He rose his hands with a quiet laugh. "Interesting choice in company, however. An individual with no face for you to name." They said. Alejandro's face softened. There was a short beat of silence that seemed to last forever, finally a peaceful moment without the worry of being killed, allowing him to admire them properly, despite the mask. He then remembered their promise, the words spoken to him to keep his morale high when things were looking bleak. So, though he was careful, he rose his hands to their face, cautiously grazing the edge of the mask with his fingers. "Is that right?" He whispered. They didn't move back or scold him, merely kept his eyes locked with theirs in a look that sent shivers down his spine, even as he edge the mask up. It was pulled away and in an instant, they were exposed fully. Alejandro let out a breath and forgot to inhale afterward. Their smile caused his lungs to constrict in tight thorns. "Well? ¿Algo que decir, coronel?" They asked, and though their tone was cool, he could see the flinch of fear. The anxiety of rejection. He took his free hand to brush over their cheekbone, feeling warm skin instead of cold glass. "Peligrosa… peligrosamente hermosa." He whispered back. They snorted. "How cheesy..." They teased again, tilting their head up to meet him halfway.

✧Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra✧

Rodolfo’s eyes cracked open, he let out a short wheeze. He wasn’t all there, but he was keenly aware of a large commotion outside. He could faintly recall his mission and how he ended up with the throbbing in the back of his head. An RPG hit the building he was in just right and it knocked him out cold. Astigmatism disrupted his vision and his limbs felt heavy. He winced when a light came from the side, the sun, beaming through as the broken door was shoved off. He blinked, and there was someone he’d never seen before. They weren’t really dressed for battle, wearing a decorated porcelain mask with a rifle strapped to their back. Rudy’s hand twitched for his gun before they hushed him, placing their hand on his arm. “Tranquilo ahí, cariño. I’m on your side.” They said gently before turning their head to shout some orders at an unseen person. They turned back to him and cautiously turned his head, clicking their tongue sympathetically as he whined. “Took quite a hit, huh? Don’t worry, we have help on the way and your friends and mine have almost cleared out the enemy.” They took out a flashlight, shining it in his eyes When his pupils responded normally, they put the flashlight away and called out some more orders. Rodolfo decided to try and sit up but he barely moved before nearly falling back on the floor. They caught him by the back of his neck. “Easy, pretty boy. Don’t make yourself worse.” They said, gently guiding him to sit up with their support. Rudy blinked and groaned. He got a better look at them now, pushing past his dry mouth to try and speak. “You…you are the ally Alejandro mentioned…” he grunted. Their eyes scrunched, indicating a smile. “That’s right, dear. And I’ll get you out of here. You can trust me on that.” They promised.

Rodolfo carefully scratched around the edge of a bandage on his head, huffing when Alejandro lightly flicked his hand, scolding him for fidgeting with it. "I'm healing fine." He said quietly, glancing at the map on the table in front of them. "Still, shouldn't mess with it." Alejandro replied with a caring pat to his shoulder. They were waiting in a planning/common room in the main base of their new adversaries, a civilian led resistance against the cartel. Rudy recalled the way they carefully held him steady when they'd found him, after he'd been knocked unconscious. Alejandro swore they were trustworthy, and so far, they'd definitely been helpful. Alejandro stood more straight when the door swung open and Padres entered the room, a few of their men behind them. The two of them overheard the leader scolding a civie-soldier for not eating breakfast before they turned to the two friends. They were dressed more casually than the other times they'd met. Looking liked they'd just been dragged out of bed, actually. And although they seemed sleepy, still in slippers even, they still bore their mysterious porcelain mask. "Apologies, my alarm didn't go off." Padres apologized in a gentle tone. Alejandro chuckled and shook his head. "You all there yet, Padres?" He asked, smiling when they waved their hand, approaching the table. "I can still explain my plan to you, si." They replied before yawning, Rudy smiled as they went to cover their mouth for the sake of manners, despite the face covering. Their eyes landed on him and he could see the signs of a smile in their gaze. "Ah, chico lindo, how's your head?" They asked. Rodolfo felt his cheeks warm at the nickname, they hadn't been subtle when he first met them either. "Fine, just sore." He replied. At that moment, the quiet mutterings of a man who'd come in for some coffee hit the room. A soldier named Ramirez. Whispering about Rodolfo's skills, trying to imply he wasn't a true soldier for being wounded "so easily", which made another snicker. Rudy didn't show a reaction to it, Alejandro scowled, but both men jumped when Padres gasped. With skilled precision, they flicked their slipper from their foot and caught it from the air, launching it in the direction of Ramirez. A perfect headshot as the slipper smacked the back of the soldier's skull. Alejandro and Rudy shared a look, recalling their own experiences with the all feared chancla. "Debería darte vergüenza! These men give their life everyday for the sake of our country, they were fighting before you were given your status in my army, show some respect! You will not disrespect this man again, do you understand me?!" They shouted, finger pointed. The man shrank, rubbing the back of his head. "Si, commander." Padres put their hands on their hips. Ramirez approached with their slipper, which Padres snatched from his grip, dropping it on the floor so they could it back on. "Now apologize for your insolence." They demanded, pointing at Rudy. Both Rodolfo and Alejandro watched with wide eyes as a grown man, tall and buff, turned with his head down like an embarrassed child, muttering an apology. Rudy swallowed and let it go, unable to look away from the mysterious individual who'd defended him so valiantly. They'd been so gentle and sweet. Rudy felt his mouth grow dry and his stomach twist as they sent Ramirez away with a wave of their hand. With a breath and a headshake, they turned to face him again, smiling once more. "Now, let's get this done, alright?" They asked. Rudy nodded, not missing the teasing glance Alejandro gave him.

It was sweltering, as expected for a Mexican Summer. The speedy movement and adrenaline of avoiding gunfire only added to the discomfort. There were still cartel members outside, but at a distance. There was quiet for a moment, excluding Rodolfo's breathing being hissed through his teeth. A bullet had skidded past the back of his hand, tearing through his glove and leaving blood running down his arm. He was sat on the floor of an abandoned house, jacket discarded and shirt sleeve rolled past his elbow. "I know it stings, but you'll be alright." His ally, Padres, spoke softly to him past their mask. He nodded and leaned his head back against the wall, watching them dig through a bag for medical supplies. He held his hand up to lessen blood flow, letting it run across the dips in his muscled forearm. "How is it that every time you find me, I'm bleeding?" The man asked with a playful tone, smiling slightly when they snickered. "Well, mi tonto y querido soldado. It's because you're a reckless fool." Their thumb pressed into the area around the wound, making him wince, looking them in the eye. Their gaze was sharper than before, although not malicious. "You are so smart but so, so very stupid sometimes." They shook their head, taking away the pressure from his hand, holding it cautiously now. "You're swift, you're experienced, you're intelligent. But you're hot headed, and sometimes you get too focused on a goal to realize you're stepping on a land mine. It amazes me you're not more battered than you are." Their concern was warranted and their praise was met with warmth in his face. He swallowed and looked back at them again as they examined his wound, slowly rising their gaze to him again. He could see the signs of a gentle smile in their eyes. They hushed him soothingly when his hissed at the sting of disinfectant. His hand twitched involuntarily from the odd feeling on his nerves. "You have a point." He sighed, looking at their surroundings for a moment. He let out a short laugh after a few seconds of silence. "At least you're always near by to fix me up, no? I seem to heal faster when you're caring for my wounds." He muttered, feeling his stomach twist with an exciting bout of nerves. He wasn't much of a flirting type, and he tried to keep it subtle enough in case he'd been misreading. Padres chuckled fondly as they pressed down a bandage around his arm, kindly wiping away the blood. "Not the first to have told me that." They said fondly. With one last look at his hand, the clicked their tongue as they took in the damage. "Your hand will likely be difficult to use for until it's healed. We'll need to speed up that process." Rudy rose an eyebrow, confused. His eyes widened when they lifted their mask slightly, just enough to expose their mouth. It was hard to remember to breathe as a care kiss was placed over the bandage, he swore he could feel the burn of their lips past the layers, seeping into his wound and sending shocks in his blood. "Stay vigilant, chico lindo, I need you in peak condition."

(tw; war and brief mentions of wounds) Rodolfo panted heavily as he vaulted through a broken window, feeling perspiration on his skin from the heat of fire and exercise as he continued to sprint through a broken down building. There was bloodshed, naturally, it came with the job. But there was something in his stomach that twisted as he worried he'd find their body amongst those empty of souls. He'd promised to be more careful, but he'd dropped that worry as soon as their mic cut out. The fight had died down and an evac was only two miles away, but he demanded proof of their demise before he'd step anywhere near it. The man's steps crackled over broken glass and after the constant rain of bullets, the silence felt all the more deafening. His ears rang with a high pitched whine that he tried to ignore, listening for anything amongst the worrying stillness. He felt hope dwindle as seconds tic down, until he heard the sound of moving rubble in a room he'd yet to check. It could've been an enemy, perhaps it wasn't them, but despite the risk he rushed over and pushed the broken door out of his way. His breath left his lungs with weight as he saw their back, struggling to push themselves up. "Oh, gracias a Dios, estás vivo." Rudy said as he rushed over. A cruel sense of deja vu hit him as he gently guided them into sitting up, their hands covering their face. They groaned quietly, leaning against him for support. Rudy took a quick glance around, seeing pieces of their iconic mask broken. "Where are you wounded? Evac isn't far, what do you need?" He asked, only to hear them let out a strained chuckle. Slowly, blood covered hands stopped covering their visage. Air punched out of his chest as he finally got their face, and while blood dripped from a fairly painful seeming gash on their forehead, they smiled. "Tranquilo, cariño. Estoy bien." They said, gaze tired and a bit dazed. Rudy sighed and shook his head. "You've already used that line..." He said back, unable to stop the tiny smile as they snorted. "So I have." They hummed, resting against his armored shoulder. Rodolfo swallowed and chewed on some words stuck in his throat for a moment, up until they tapped him. "Just ask me already, Rodolfo. I'm losing blood and I think you should know how much I like you by now." They said with a hint of smugness. Rudy clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, chuckling when the poked him again. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young man." They scolded playfully, groaning in pain as he carefully helped them up, pulling them close to keep them supported. "A drink after this sounds nice, si?" He asked quietly. They nodded lazily. "With you? Absolutely." Rudy smiled and began slowly guiding them out of the broken building. "It's a date then."

✧König Badubrecht✧

Konig anxiously fiddled with the bracelet he snuck under his sleeves while he waited. He recalled a breathing technique and tried his best to keep his breaths quiet, but full enough to keep him calm. On any other day, he would've been mostly fine, but this was not every other day. No. His commander had told him that he, and two other soldiers, would be meeting up with a rather impressive taskforce run by Captain John Price. As if it wasn't enough that Ghost was on the team, as well as the ties they had to impressive forces in Mexico, all of that on its own was enough to get him antsy to make a good impression. But there was something in particular that caused his nerves to light up with unease. Meeting their sniper. Only known by their callsign 'Hotshot'. When Price had chosen them, word spread fast to allies about the impressive track record they carried. Twice, they had missed a shot twice. That was two compared to, give or take, three-thousand-four shots they had taken. A number that steadily grew with each mission, one kept track of just to prove the otherwise outrageous number. König loved the idea of being a sniper and practiced frequently, even if he was never given the position due to his size. Part of him wanted to ask for an autograph, but he also knew that would likely get him weird looks. "Oi, Großer Kerl. Das Team ist hier." His commander's voice startled him just as much as the words. König swallowed and nodded. He stood up and quickly fussed over his appearance before following. He let the other soldiers he'd be working with walk in front of him. He envied them, their confidence. Slightly baffled they could walk toward such impressive people without feeling the need to overthink how they'd present. It was one thing when König didn't care about their opinion, or when he was walking toward enemies. He'd strut forward with his shoulders rolled back and his chin high, gaze stern and sharp as the blade on his belt. But wanting people to like you, new people no less? He'd had easier times handling battles than that. It didn't get easier when they were in view. He towered over all of them, hiding wasn't much of an option, although his veil helped. König noted all of them individually as his commander spoke with Captain Price. Ghost certainly was intimidating, Gaz & Soap seemed more approachable, not to take away from their capable abilities however. Then his eyes fell on the last member, feeling his chest clench, making his hands do the same at his sides. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he'd heard of Hotshot's illustrious reputation. Still, he wasn't expecting them to be so...beautiful. They stood confidently with a laid back smile, some left over war paint smudged under their eyes, black gloves over their hands. König had so much to say and it all piled up in the back of his throat. He'd gotten so lost in staring at them that he'd completely missed everyone introducing themselves to each other, hence why he flinched violently when he was addressed directly. Suddenly, someone he viewed so highly was stood in front of him, craning their neck to make eye contact. "You alright there, big man?" They asked with a smile. König let out a string of stammered noises. They rose an eyebrow with a head tilt as the man mentally scolded himself, trying hard to actually say a word, anything! "You're pretty." He said suddenly with a voice crack. Instantly, shame and regret waved over his body. Hotshot blinked a few times in surprise. "I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't-" "I like you." They pointed with a grin again, much wider than before. König deadpanned, eyes wide and stunned quiet. He watched them extend a hand. "Look forward to workin' with you, Romeo." They teased lightly. König hesitated, but very carefully shook their hand with a nod.

König held his breath before pulling the trigger on his USR rifle. The bullet soared through the air and through the paper of the target, leaving a fresh hole in the figure's skull. He exhaled and smiled to himself under his sniper veil, taking notes on what he had done right, what he could do better. As he went to grab his pen and jot it all done, he flung it in surprise when clapping sounded behind him. He nearly broke his neck whipping his head around, pulse stuttering when he viewed Hotshot leaned on the wall. Or, Y/N, as they'd said to call them. Though König had yet to break the habit of calling them Lieutenant. He blushed heavily as they smiled at him, pushing off the wall. "Nice shot, big guy. Right between the eyes." They complimented, letting out a whistle as they gazed at the target. He swallowed a lump in his throat, hands growing clammy in his gloves. He hadn't known them very long, admittedly, although their reputation preceded them. It had been a little less than a month since he'd first been introduced, in that time, he'd grown to find them charming. Too charming for him to handle. "Remind me again why they won't give you a proper sniper position again?" They asked as he leaned back on his knees. Konig cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "My size." He mumbled, a bit bitterly. Hotshot clicked their tongue both sympathetically and in annoyance. "Yeah, I'd imagine being that tall has it's drawbacks. Seems to have advantages too though. Still, I think you're a great shot. Little awkward on your form though." They explained. Konig glanced up at them with a small head tilt, silently hoping they'd elaborate. They smiled and crouched beside him, suddenly reminding him just how much bigger he was. "Get back in position, I'll show ya." They smiled. Konig nodded and did as told. He wasn't necessarily an obedient soldier, but he always listened to what they said. He'd been so worried about how they perceived him, stepping out of line brought too much anxiety. He wanted them to like him. He adjusted his hold on the gun, resuming the position he was in before they came in. "See, you're firing well, but is this a position you could hold for an hour?" They asked. "Nien, my back starts to hurt." He admitted. Hotshot nodded and snapped their fingers. "Exactly. Here, I can already tell your problem." He glanced at them before his breath caught in his throat, feeling their hand gently placed on his leg. Positioning it a bit more outwards, bending at the knee. Through thick cargo pants and a set of gloves, their palm felt like fire through fabric, singeing his skin. His hands twitched nervously when they moved up by his shoulders. "Now, instead of holding your head like that, try this instead." Their voice was soft, quiet. König felt his pulse in his extremities when their hand found his jaw underneath his make-shift sniper hood, tilting his head as they wished. "There ya go, big guy. Now, try firing like that." The nickname suddenly felt like fire to his senses, and he had to clench his jaw to bite back an unmanly sound. He did his best to hold the gun steady, aiming once more, ignoring the proximity of his superior. He fired, unable to focus on where the bullet landed. He could still somehow feel the ghost of their hands on his person. He flinched when they clapped twice. "Another headshot! Good job, mate. Keep at it and you'll be better than me soon." They smiled brightly. Konig blinked up at them, nodding carefully. The lieutenant hadn't missed the widening of his pupils. "I'll let you get back to it. Come get me if you want more tips." They patted his shoulder, taking careful note of his near-silent shudder. Perfect.

(TW; War typical violence, blood lusty König) The man heaved, feeling ice in his veins, bright red blood darkening the fabric of his gear. He counted the bodies around him, ten in total, none of them moving. He scanned the area around him as he continue moving, looking for more targets, knowing if he didn't have one in his sights, someone had him in theirs. His fist clenched around the handle of his blade when his radio crackled. Static mixed with a voice, one frantic, one familiar. Past his adrenaline rushed brain he heard the panicked call of his friendly sniper, one who'd recently called him a friend. Long legs broke into a sprint, operating off his most basic instincts, the most animalistic portions of his mind. He made it to their position with, to him, felt like seconds. He didn't process the information around him before his body was moving, quick as light and as brutal as iron spikes. Suddenly, his body count that day went from thirty to thirty four. A loud crack and a heavy thump of a limp body hitting the floor was the last thing her heard before the blood rushing in his ears started to settle. He turned to look over his shoulder, seeing Y/N coughing, grasping at their neck. He went over to them in three large strides, kneeling down in front of them. "Mein Freund, geht es Ihnen gut?" He asked, voice heavy with breath and a bit shaky. They coughed again with a nod. "I'm alright, I'm good. Thank you." He listened to the rasp out their answer. As things grew quiet again, König realized just how intense he'd been. One glance at the bodies behind him showed the true nature many often were unaware of. He was a violent, terrifying force when in war. Typically, he didn't care. He'd grown to stop caring after so much of his life was met with judgment or rejection. But he liked this person, therefore, their approval mattered to him, and now his anxiety began to rise. They'd fear him, avoid him now, surely. "König." Their voice snapped him forward again. "Can you get this mic off? It's hard to breathe with it..." They muttered, motioning to the throat mic tightly secured around their neck. It caught him by surprise. He'd just snapped a neck without hesitation not even five minutes prior, and yet they were asking for his help still. He swallowed and nodded. The winced and tilted their head back, allowing access to their bruised esophagus. König tried not to tremble as his fingers clumsily when to loosen and undo the mic. His hand was dangerous, blood still stained his gloves as he grazed their skin with the fabric. His chest felt ready to burst as he heard them sigh in relief when the pressure let go, easing some of the sting of the irritation. It was red, soon to be a deep purple when the bruises truly formed. It looked painful. König's fingers shook as he absentmindedly trailed the line dented in their skin. "I'm okay." Their voice made him jump again, bringing his eyes back to theirs. They smiled at him, already exhausted from the day of battle. König blinked and nodded slowly. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, like he'd been burned, feeling his skin lit aflame. "Let us finish so you can get to evac." He muttered, standing up, allowing them to use his deadly hand to hoist themselves up with him.

"God it is so pretty here!" Y/N declared as they looked around at König's hometown. Graz, Austria. König smiled behind his black medical mask as he watched them look around in awe, feeling pride bubble in his chest as they walked to his home. Since he'd joined the military, he'd gone home alone. It was lonely, yes, though he always made sure to visit his grandmother when he'd come back from missions. His apartment always felt too quiet, too empty. He liked his alone time but often times he found the solitude suffocating. Everyone he knew on his team didn't really have this problem, either being fine on their own, with friends to visit, or family to return to. That was until the hotshot sniper admitted a very similar situation to himself. He saw how their face fell when they mentioned it, and despite his fear of rejection, he took a leap and offered a plane ticket. It surprised and delighted him when they jumped at the opportunity. He was proud that they enjoyed his country so far, even if he was nervous about their opinion of his home. Not that he could avoid it, however, given they were already at his door. König unlocked the door and stepped in, immediately removing his shoes. They mimicked his movements and carefully set their boots off to the side. He took a second to note how small theirs were in comparison to his. They took a gander around his home. It wasn't much, a simply decorated place with some mild dust built up from how long he was gone. When they giggled quietly, his stomach twisted, wondering what it could mean. "Uhm, welcome to mein home. Do...do you like it?" He asked nervously. "You decorate like a grandma." They answered, turning with a big grin on their face. An old quilt was folded on the couch and on the wall their were crocheted works of art in wooden frames. "It's so cozy, it's really cute." Their compliment made him relax. He motioned for them to sit, which they did gladly. He was quick to make them tea, some for himself to calm his nerves. There was a silence that settled over them when he finally came to sit beside them, comfortable for them, anxious for him. They spared a glance at him staring at his tea cup, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "Aren't you gonna take off your mask? So you can drink it?" Y/N asked. König blinked, his breath catching in his throat. "...Nein." He muttered, setting the cup on the table in front of them. Y/N frowned. "Why? It's just me..." They said in a hushed tone. "You," He swallowed. "You will not like my face." He said softly, squeezing his hands together. They sighed and put their own cup down, standing up. König's eyes followed them and his face went red as they bent, placing their hands on his knees, looking him intently in the eye. "That is bullshit, big guy. I like you way more than you think I do. And I promise your face is not gonna change that." They said intensely. König blinked at them before he looked at his lap again. He inhaled deeply through his nose before he bit down on his tongue. Like ripping off a bandaid, he wanted to get the pain of their rejection off as fast as possible, so he tore off the mask, keeping his eyes scrunched shut. Some beats of silence left his heart palpitating. Then he felt warm palms carefully cradle his cheeks, forcing a gasp out of him. König blinked and looked at them, up, for once. Y/N's gaze trailed over his features, fingers lightly trailing over faint freckles to a scar across the bold bridge of his nose, down to the his oldest scar that ran from his right sinus to his chapped lips. A smile grew over their face as they took in his visage. "I knew it. You're one pretty man, Romeo." They purred quietly. The man's eyes widened before his breathing stopped, eyes fluttering as they pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. "Du bringst mich noch ins Grab…" He shivered. They chuckled and pecked his forehead. "Don't even think about it mister, you're staying alive for as long as I need for you to love yourself as much as I love you."

✧Alex Keller✧

Alex was a seasoned soldier. He'd constantly perceived through the unthinkable, cut it close with death more times than he could count. Shot, stabbed, kidnapped twice, inhaled complex chemicals, and managed to escape with his life after he detonated a bomb. Missing a leg, but alive. Maybe he was lucky, maybe it was the opposite. Either way, anyone who had the nerve to imply Alex as anything but impressive and strong was a fool, completely. The blond was someone any general would take pride in. So what on earth could take out a man with such an amazing track record? The flu. The answer was the flu. Alex practically never got sick, but when his fellow soldiers began to notice his less than fantastic state, it was hard to deny. Pale, clammy, a headache from hell. He couldn't do drills as well because his joints were sore and the coughing wasn't ideal. He managed to brush off concerns up until he threw up in the communal trashcan in mess hall. Finally, Alex's commander dragged him to the medbay. "Just sit down, Keller. Fucks sake." Julia grumbled as she set him on a bed. "I'm tellin' ya, I just need some NyQuil and I'll be fine-" Alex was cut off by harsh coughing fit that made the woman cringe. "With all due respect, Keller, you sound like you deep throated a cactus. Just let the medic look at'cha. We just got a new one, they're lovely, you'll be in good hands." She promised, making him sighed and rub his face, putting some pressure on his eyes, hoping it'd help the pain behind them. Alex hummed as he heard Julia greet a new voice. He dropped his hands in his lap and blinked, looking over at the new medic, not wanting to be rude. He couldn't tell if the warmth in his face was just the fever anymore though, not when he got a good look at them. They approached and set a clipboard down, standing in front of him, putting on some gloves as they smiled. Julia motioned to him. "This is Alex Keller, Keller, our medic, Plaster." She said. Alex rose an eyebrow and looked at them, watching them laugh. "It's my callsign. Brits call band aids, plasters." They explained. "And they'll fix all your cracks." Julia snorted, making the medic roll their eyes. Plaster grabbed a thermometer and put a cover on it. "Alrighty, Alex, just put this under your tongue. Don't want a soldier with such an impressive resume to be out of commission for too long." Alex blinked slowly as the plastic rested under his tongue. His brain was essentially mush, and the pretty face in front of him wasn't helping. "Heard o' meh?" He slurred tiredly, making them snort. "I have! Not everyday a man willingly blows up a building full of gas, much less live through it. Man of steel, eh?" They asked. Alex motioned to his leg. "Knee down." He replied, smiling when they laughed, taking out the thermometer. "Oh boy, 100.8. You, sir, should've been here much sooner. I'll get you some antibiotics and some NyQuil." Plaster said as they shined a light in his eyes. Alex lazily opened his mouth so they could check the back of his throat, heart thumping harshly as they carefully held his jaw, clicking their tongue sympathetically. "Poor thing, your throat looks pretty bad." He hummed. He gazed up at them as they carefully put a stethoscope to his chest. "Pulse sounds a bit quick." They mumbled. "'s your fault." Alex replied. Julia's jaw dropped open as Plaster tilted their head with a little chuckle. "Oh is it now? Well I'm sorry, sir." They replied. "Mm-mm, not complainin'." Alex shrugged. Plaster shook their head and wrote his prescription down, handing it to him before turning to Julia. "Make sure he stays in bed. And get some rest, casanova." They patted his leg. Alex gave a weak salute as Julia dragged him away, not paying attention to how she poked fun at him. "You're gonna feel so embarrassed when you can think straight." Alex shrugged as he stumbled beside his commander. "I dunno, I think they liked me." He said proudly. Julia rolled her eyes.

Getting a leg blown off was an extremely painful endeavor, obviously. Alex had a whole half of a limb blasted off at the knee, then he had to have it heal, then there were months of getting used to having his limb missing. And even after growing used to having his leg amputated, the pain was far from done. Excluding ghost pains, there was always some painful soreness left after using his leg all day. After some time, there was a level of pain that he considered normal, and therefore powered through. But there were other times where it was agony. It reminded him of the darker fairy tales he’d been told by his great grandmother. Like the Little Mermaid, how every step was agony, rather than the sparkly version Disney gave. He still tried to tough it out, but it really felt like hell. Leading him to limp to the medic’s area, hoping to hide from his bosses for a bit and perhaps ask for something for the pain. He winced as the pain became sharp, sitting on a cot in the quiet medbay. He sighed as he heard footsteps coming his way. He glanced up and saw their medic, the one that cared for him when he had the flu. “Mr.Keller, what brings you her- oh you look bad, what’s going on?” Their joyful tone quickly turned to worry as they approached him. He sighed and motioned to his leg. Quickly, the nodded and wrote something down. “Give me a moment. If it’s alright with you, I’d like you to remove your leg and compression sock.” They said. He did as told. There was both pain and relief when the heavy metal was pulled away. He set it beside him and tried to place pressure on his thigh. Plaster came back with some ICYHOT and a cold wrap. “Can I put my hands on you?” They asked softly. Alex rose an eyebrow, smiling when they rolled their eyes playfully. “Not like that.” They scolded, though they weren't truly upset. Alex chuckled and nodded, rub his his face. They put some gloves on and some of the Icyhot. Their hands were delicate as they carefully applied pressure to the muscle of his amputated limb. He winced and sighed in repeat as it both soothed and ached. All the while, they gentle cooed and comforted him through the pain. By the time the frigid compress was wrapped around his leg, he was exhausted. Alex went to stand, hobble his way back to his room, only for a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked up at them, being met with a gentle smile and a light push. He listened and laid back, though confused. “I think you should rest for a bit.” They explained softly, patting his chest. “And…you’d rather me do it here than my room?” He asked with a teasing grin, watching them laugh under their breath. “Come on, casanova. Give a lonely medic some company, would you?” They asked. Their tone made his chest tighten and his cheeks hurt from smiling. “Sure thing, doc.”

Alex sighed after taking a large gulp of beer from a pint glass, looking around the bar he'd popped into. Usually, bar outings were for celebration after a mission, this time though, he came alone. He wasn't there to mope or feel bad about himself, he just didn't want the loud commotion of his entire team. He was an extrovert, yes, but sometimes the company he wanted was more quiet, less straining. He looked at the foam residue in his glass, zoning out to whatever music was playing over the speakers. Some new-age country song if he had to guess. "Well, hello stranger." A voice near him made him flinch and raise his head, feeling butterflies erupt at the sight of his favorite medic. He grinned and turned to them a bit. "Plaster, hey, what're you doing here?" He asked. They waved their hand and came to sit beside him in the booth, not really minding the close proximity. "None of that callsign nonsense, Keller. You know my name, you can use it off base." They replied, setting a tequila sunrise on the table. The man hummed, the warmness in his cheeks now not only the alcohol. "Well, Y/N, what brings you here?" He asked. "A drink and the curiosity of American bars. The stories were right, it is filthy here." They commented, making him laugh and nod. "Well, so is all of America really." He hummed. They rose an eyebrow at that, though the held their question as he took another swig of beer, only taking a quick second to glance at the way his Adam's apple moved. "Coming from a man with an American flag on his arm, I hear you give your country quite a lot of shit." The medic rested their chin in their hand, eyeing him curiously as he glanced at his tattoo. "It's burning for a reason. I love my country but...I also don't. I...I love the idea of America, what it was supposed to be. What it is? Not so much." He admitted slowly. Y/N frowned as they watched his face fall. They could take a million guesses on what made him feel that way, he'd probably answer with an 'all of the above'. Instead, they reached over and patted his leg with a kind smile. "Well, there are plenty of places I can think of that would take an American, if you're able to handle the jokes on your accent." They said softly. Alex's throat tightened at the kind hand resting over his jean-clad thigh. It wasn't sexual by any means, but it still made his skin grow goosebumps. "Yeah? Would you be willing to take in this one legged stray?" He asked with a teasing tone. Y/N chuckled, but they nodded as well. "I'm sure I could take care of you real well." They whispered softly, barely audible over the commotion of bar life. Alex swallowed and suddenly the pressure on his leg became a little more dangerous. But the last thing he wanted as to pull away. Instead, he let out a breathy laugh, one a bit shaky. "Don't make a promise you can't keep, doc. I'm always getting into trouble." He replied. They tilted their head, an innocent motion with a layer of mischief. "I'll get you out of it." They replied. He knew they'd both go back to the base that night, that nothing would happen, given the sensibility of not making rash decisions with alcohol present. But, despite not even being buzzed, he already had his plan to play up a hang over, just so he'd have an excuse in the morning. Knowing full well they'd see right through him.

Alex was a hardened soldier. He'd been shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, inhaled toxic chemicals, and he'd had his leg blown off. Withstanding it all and still alive, still breathing and, at least somewhat, functioning. But there were days when the air filling his lungs felt monotonous and the lack of sound felt like death. Usually on nights where he was on leave. The first night was always the same, with him so exhausted he'd pass out and wouldn't have the ability to overthink. The longer he was alone, the worse it got, until his mind started to shot off thoughts he didn't really want to indulge. Counting the times he'd cheated death, the amount of lives he might've saved with better hindsight, whether or not there was another side, would it be as quiet as his home? He had friends, people he knew cared for him, but none of those dynamics felt right for voicing this part of himself. The deeper, more frightening bits. Or, well, he didn't have that before. In a moment of weakness, as he felt the weight of his life and its debatable worth rest too potently on his ribs, he grabbed his phone and hit a contact, a colleague. His work always spilled into his life, he didn't see why it had to stop with them. Guilt ate at him when they answered, hearing their tired tone reminding him of how late it was. But they didn't complain, they didn't scold or scoff. Their voice remained sweet, so worried for him, so caring. It aided all the more in having him cave, having him ask for a lifeline. It was raining cats & dogs and yet they only took twenty minutes to be at his door. He was still in his sleepwear, a pair of basketball shorts and a grey tank-top he'd had for a near decade. His leg was off, using his crutch, albeit begrudgingly. No words were shared as he watched them remove their shoes, water dripping off their coat as they hung it on the rack. This would've been the first time they'd actually be in his home, but he wasn't particularly concerned with their opinion of his awful décor choices. Y/N turned and looked at him with worry in their gaze. Again, silently, they took the hand that wasn't supported on the crutch and carefully pulled him to the couch. "Bad night?" They finally spoke, sitting down beside him. Alex nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, I dunno why I called-" They cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to them with exhaustion in his face. Y/N sighed sadly, raising their hand to hold his face gently in their palm. He melted into it immediately. There was something supernaturally soothing of human warmth, something real, something alive. "You trust me, starboy?" They asked quietly, thunder rumbling in the sky as he nodded. He mourned the loss of their hand as they situated a throw pillow on the end of the couch, moving to lay down with their back slightly elevated by the arm of the furniture. He watched them look back at him, then, with open arms, they beckoned him. It was a step too intimate for coworkers, bordering past friends, and he didn't care. He practically tossed his mobility aid away and slid over. Their chest became his pillow as he slotted between them and the back of the couch, feeling them grab the folded blanket he always left out, draping it over him. He let out a shaky sigh when their nails met his scalp. "Easy, casanova. Let me take care of you." They whispered. Alex let out a huff-like laugh. "You got it, doc..."

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #call of duty x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #konig x reader #cod konig #alex keller #alex keller x reader #cod x gn reader #fluff

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ghouljams · 5 months

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Ok so regency!Rudy: there's a war going on, so just after you meet Rudy, he has to leave! The pining! The heartfelt letters! Reader has only met him once, is she even allowed to write him, or does she have to do it in secret? You have to wait for those letters to cross the ocean! What if she can't reunite with Rudy until the war is over?! Can she wait that long? Will the societal/familial pressure to marry force her to wes someone else?n

Other thoughts: idk England's opinion of the Mexican war for independence, but considering it's a colonizing country I could imagine they don't approve. Reader faces pressure to forget about dear Rudy and marry someone "better" (more white/European). Maybe that could be Graves? The angst! Feelings of betrayal! Ahh!

ok I got carried away I'm done now 💚

OOOOH You are COOKING with this. The angst potential is scrumptious. I love Graves swooping in as a sort of Willoughby figure for this Darling. Might I add, as an AleRudy girly(gender neutral), the disapproval of being courted by not one but two men on the side of independence? Letters that come bundled together, filled with promises from Alejandro and Rudy that are sure to be kept if the reader can make their way to Mexico. Two men showing up to claim their darling after the war, the looks of scandal from reader's family that they're even entertaining the idea of being swept off by both of them...

Idk I love Alejandro and Rudy's dynamic so much. This is all Rudy though, we can sprinkle Ale in at a later date (but I do think he's waiting in the wings, ready to pounce)

He's a marvelous dancer, confident and poised as he leads you in twirls and dips. There's a spark in his eye that makes you wonder if he's truly as calm as he seems. He's just a man, you repeat to yourself. Except that he carries himself with the assurance of something greater. Each movement, no matter how casual it appears, carries a calculated weight. He's precise, smart in a way you're not familiar with. Twenty years in the military, he'd told you, and you don't doubt it for a second.

Not with the way he moves you, with the calm assurance of a man that doesn't question his steps. He must be good to have survived this long. After Napolean swept through Spain and- actually, is he Spanish? You can't place his accent. Then again you haven't heard much of it, and it's not like you're intimately familiar with the different dialects of a foreign country. You frown and he raises a brow.

"Where in Spain are you from again?" You ask, still puzzling over your geography.

"Mexico," He tells you coolly, not missing a beat. You blink at him and he watches you slot the information into place. You give him a short nod, unsure what to say. He smiles, practiced and placating. You don't buy it.

"You're," You hesitate, "courting support for the uprisings."

"The war," He corrects you, "but no, the colonel and I are here to request the king keep his eyes off Mexico. Los imperialistas son como los buitres." There's an edge to his voice, a cold fury you haven't heard before and hope to never hear again. You swallow, and squeeze his hand to bring his attention back to you. His fingers spread, wide and commanding, against your back in response.

"The king is mad," You tell him, "talk to the regent. I'm sure after his embarrassment in the US he's eager to avoid another blunder."

Rodolfo laughs, a deep chuckle that drips down your spine like warm honey. There's something different in his eyes when he shakes his head with a smile. "Oh you are smart," it's not a compliment, it doesn't sound like a compliment when he says it like that, when he looks at you like that. You feel like you're about to be eaten alive.

#cod x reader #x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy cod #rudy parra #rudy parra x reader #rodolfo cod #rodolfo parra x reader #regency au #this is real short but I like it

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tokkiwrites · 8 months

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ㅡㅡㅡ in which Javier Peña has a not so big strong man crush on the new intern.

TW: kind of fluff, age gap (not mentioned tho), pet names, use of Spanish , kind of forbidden love idk, javier is a slut ( barely mentioned in the story just wanted to put it out there) but also hes down BAD for reader, unprotected p in v sex (dont be silly, wrap your willy), afab reader, oh yeah use of y/n and reader is kind of thiiqueee idk what else so lmk if i missed anything!!!!

Javier had been standing outside for a while now, his gaze focused on the dry, concrete pavement in front of the Embassy. He took a drag of his marlboro cigarette and exhaled after a few moments, silently watching as the cloud of smoke wafted away.

The DEA Agent took a glance up at the night sky and the flickering streetlamps that had been due for maintenance years ago. The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his daze, and he then turned his head.

"buenas noches, señor peña!"

it was y/n, the newly arrived intern: a bubbly girl that was way too excited when anyone mentioned criminals, with a smile that made even the sun want to take a closer look.

“buenas noches, querida.” The Texan rasped, his eyes taking note of her outfit. god, what a dress.

"long day, huh?" she asks before reaching her hand out and offering Javier a cup filled to the brim with warm coffee. "i know it's late, but coffee is always good." she smiles intently.

He smiled back, nodding his head in thanks, before accepting the coffee cup in his hands. "thank you, and yes, very long day indeed. this fucking heat isn't helping at all." Javier chuckles as he takes a long sip from the cup.

"i was gonna finish my coffee then head home, my feet are killing me..." she groans. "Also, this dress is horrible...forgot to wear some nylons under it, and now my thighs feel like you could fry something on them."

Javier raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her thighs, his curiosity piqued. smiling in the corner of his mouth, y/n's eyes met his. He then looked down once again for a moment, before chuckling ever so slightly.

"Does that matter when you look so good, hermosa?"

y/n lets out a soft giggle, cheeks turning a pale shade of red, before she slaps his shoulder playfully. "you say that to everyone, señor Peña"

Javier chuckled, his deep voice rumbling softly as he took another sip of the coffee. "Only to those who deserve it," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. y/n's blush deepened, and she couldn't help but smile at his response. "Well, I'm flattered..."

As they stood there under the flickering streetlamp, sharing a moment of casual banter amidst the night's shadows, Javier couldn't deny that the unexpected company of the bubbly intern had lightened the weight of the long, tiring day.

He appreciated her energy and enthusiasm, which contrasted the often grim and serious nature of his work.

it's what made him more excited to come to work for the past few months. and buy new clothes...and cologne. Javier will never admit it was for her, though.

"Listen," Javier began, taking a more serious tone, "I know you're new here, and this job can be tougher than it looks. But I've got a good feeling about you, y/n. You've got that spark, and that's something we could use around here."

y/n's s eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, señor Peña. I really appreciate that. I promise to give it my all." she nods. " all though...a certain someone who i will not name told me to never ever trust your praises as they're just means to get into someone's pants.." y/n laughed.

"you're too smart for that, muñeca."

Javier smirked, amused by her response. "Well, I can't say I haven't heard those rumors about me before," he admitted, taking another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. "But, let me assure you, my compliments are genuine when they need to be."

y/n's smile was contagious, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll take your word for it."

As they continued to chat and sip their coffee, the night air began to cool, providing some much-needed relief from the scorching heat. Their camaraderie, lighthearted yet sincere, made the hours they spent at the embassy more bearable.

it's been a while since Javier last felt this way with someone. He hated to admit it, but it was true.

Javier couldn't help but reflect on how long it had been since he'd experienced a genuine connection like this. The life of a DEA agent often led to solitude and secrecy, and trust was a rare and treasured commodity in his line of work.

With y/n, though, he sensed a different kind of trust budding. It wasn't just about the job; it was about the shared moments, the laughter.

Javier found himself appreciating the small, subtle details about y/n. The way her hair fell onto her shoulders, as if it were a cascade of silk, had a certain charm that was hard to ignore. He couldn't help but notice how her rosy cheeks seemed to light up every time he complimented her, and it warmed his heart to see her smile so genuinely.

And in that quiet corner of the world, under the watchful gaze of the night sky and the flickering streetlamps, Javier couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed these stolen moments with y/n.

godㅡㅡ he doesn't know if he wants to fuck her or rip his heart out, cover it in glitter and give it to her, for fuck's sake.

his thoughts are stopped dead in their tracks as y/n's voice fills his ears again. "i should head home now... what about you? still got work or are you ready to head home? maybe we can walk together!"

"still have some work, querida, but..." he trails off "are you really in a hurry to get home?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to spend more time with Javier and the exhaustion of a long day. "Well, I'd love to stay, but I have an early morning tomorrow, and I should get some rest."

Javier nodded in understanding, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it on the pavement. "I understand, hermosa. You go ahead and get some rest. Don't want you falling asleep during those early meetings."

"so...you're not gonna walk me home?" she sounds kind of disappointed.

shit. she's so cute. someone slap this man. He's supposed to be an untouchable god that every woman wants. yet here he is, almost drooling over y/n.

Javier's expression softened at her disappointment, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her pouting. "Alright, alright, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes. It's not every day I get to walk a beautiful young lady home," he said with a wink.

y/n's face lit up, and she grinned. "You really know how to make a girl's night, señor."

walking together through the dimly lit streets, Javier couldn't deny the way he felt toward y/n. She was indeed beautiful, and her playful banter made him forget about the weight of his responsibilities, if only for a little while.

as they made their way to y/n's house, the wind hummed through the trees, soft creaks from some nearby swings in a park swirling alongside it. the night seemed to embrace them

it was beautiful. she was beautiful. fucking hell man, come on, get it together.

"we almost there, muñeca? you live pretty far away. how do you manage?"

"I've got things that motivate me to manage it."

"things?"

"yeah...stuff, you know? like work...people."

She laughed, and they continued walking together, their conversation ranging from the challenges of their work to the mundane details of their lives. The more they talked, the more Javier found himself drawn to her spirit and charm ㅡㅡ if that possible.

As they finally reached her doorstep, y/n turned to face him, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. "Well...we're here." she reaches for the doorknob before hastily turning back to face Javier. "do you want to maybe...come inside and ㅡㅡ maybe talk?"

was he really asking him this? impossible. this is a dream. that's how all of his dreams start. and they end with her under him.

"Iㅡ" he hesitatingly tries to reply "it's fine if you dont wanna! don't even know why i asked you, it's weird, sorryㅡ"

"No, querida, wait. I do." he sighs "I do want to come inside. That's the problem."

y/n's eyes widened with surprise at his response, her cheeks flushing with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She stammered, "Oh, uh... can't believe it.. Well, come on in, then!" Her hand shook slightly as she opened the door and gestured for him to follow.

Javier couldn't believe his luck. This unexpected turn of events left him both exhilarated and cautiousㅡㅡ if his boss finds out about this they're both better off as dead. As they stepped into her cozy living room, the air seemed charged with a palpable tension, a delicate balance between temptation and anticipation.

They settled on her couch, sitting close but not too close. y/n nervously played with a strand of her hair, her gaze occasionally meeting his, their eyes locking in a silent, electric exchange.

"y/n, I need to be honest," Javier finally spoke, his voice lower and more intense. "I'm not used to this kind of situation. I'm usually a lot more careful. 's why I try to only get with people who, you know..." he trails off, motioning his hands in the air.

y/n nodded, understanding the weight of their profession and the risks involved when it comes to, well, being amorous. "I get it. It's just... I don't know. There's something about you that's... I feel so silly saying this, god."

Javier leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me, y/n"

Their faces drew nearer, the magnetic pull between them impossible to ignore. It was a gamble, a moment of vulnerability neither of them were used to, but they were both willing to see where this unexpected night would lead.

She swallowed hard, the tension between them growing. "I really like you, and i know you probably find me stupid and a klutz and also I'm young, so what do I knowㅡ"

"Woah, querida. Slow down."

Javier placed a finger gently on y/n's lips, silencing her thoughts. "First of all, you're not stupid or a klutz, and age has nothing to do with how you feel, hermosa. And, believe me, you're not alone in those feelings."

y/n's eyes searched his for a sign, a confirmation that he felt the same way. She couldn't help but feel her heart racing in anticipation.

With a soft, reassuring smile, Javier continued, "I've been doing this job for a long time, and I've met a lot of people. But there's something about you.." he looks down at her lips "can I?"

"y-esㅡ"

Their lips found each other in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between them that felt deeper and more genuine than anything they had experienced before. Javier's hands roamed up y/n's body, pulling her closer to him as the kiss became increasingly intense.

When they finally pulled away, they were left panting, their eyes locked in an electrifying gaze. "fuck, querida," Javier whispered, his voice husky with desire. "do you know how long I've waited for this?"

y/n's breathless response came in a soft, sultry whisper, "not as long as I have.."

javier's lips crash onto y/n's neck, sucking small spots, the skin blooming red as they hastily start to undress each other.

"gonna let me take care of you, muñeca?"

"pleaseㅡ"

fuck, she sounds so desperate.

"i know, hermosa. Mira, déjame cuidarte esta noche."

Javier's fingers dance onto her skin, trailing up to where her bra clasp was. in one swift motion he relieves y/n, letting her breasts fall down into one of his palms.

inching closer, he starts to trace kisses down her neck to her cleavage, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin between her chest. " so beautiful. "

his mustache lightly tickling her as he prepped small kisses all over her, javier pushes y/n onto her back and pulls her hips closer to his by her ankles, drawing a soft whine from the latter. "patience, muñeca. can you wait just a little more for me, huh?"

"y-yesㅡ"

"good girl."

he finally pulls off her panties, tossing them to the side as he spreads y/n's cunt wide open with two of his fingers, analyzing the way it glistened in the dimly lit room. "so pretty. my pretty girl." y/n moans in response.

placing his palm behind her knee, he lift up her legs as to press light pecks onto her plush thighs, his thumb now tracing down to her pulsing clit. javier starts to slowly swirl his finger, still kissing y/n's thigh. "I'm gonna stretch out that pretty pussy, querida, it'll be all you think about."

tracing her entrace with his index, he plunges his finger deep into her, causing y/n to arch her back onto the mattress of the couch. this was it. he was where all of his fantasies led him to. now that he had her, he'll never let go.

cunningly, javier moved his finger into y/n's pussy, squelching sounds and her moans lapping off the walls and into his ears like melodies. "that's right. want you to come on my fingers, hermosa."

it didn't take long for y/n to finally give him what he asked for, coming just from javier's fingers, her body writhing as soft whines dripped from her lips.

"Do you want to continue, querida?" he asks, caressing ar her hips. "please, javier..." and when she pleaded his name in such a way, it sent a jolt up his spine, causing his cock to twitch into his boxers.

"i got you." he smiles, eyes tracing every curve of y/n's body. he takes off his briefs, letting his shaft spring free, small pearls of precum already gathered at the tip. y/n's eyes opened out more as she saw the sheer monster that was about to enter inside of her. "it's fine, querida. it won't bite, hm?" javier hums.

taking his length into his fist, javier pumps it a few times before he aligns it with y/n's entrance that trickled with slick. he teases her clit with the tip of it then goes in, making y/n to claw at his back.

"shh, muñeca. it's okay..." Javier starts to move slowly, gently holding y/n's waist as he lets her adjust to him. sla few strokes after he feels her wrap her legs around him, urging him deeper. "harder, please.." she pleads, the sweetest sounds escaping her plump and swollen lips.

"fuck.." Javier groans, almost coming right then with the way she stared up at him through her lashes wet with tears. "fuck, sweet girlㅡ" he starts to pump inside of her, harder and deeper, roughly hitting that one spot continously.

y/n moans, her head empty, vision blurry, and mouth agape. she was a mess, the prettiest mess he'd ever seen. all because... thanks to him.

the man moves back and forth harshly, feeling himself so close as y/n's valvet walls wrapped perfectly around his cock. "shitㅡ you were made for my cock, muñeca. my pretty, pretty girl." he moans, pressing his head between her breasts, nails digging bruises into y/n's hips.

a few moments later, y/n is completely blank, incoherent babbles skipping from her mouth as Javier fucks deep into her. "you gonna come, hermosa?" y/n nods rapidly "go aheadㅡ fuck! go ahead, come on this cock, show me how good you are to me."

that's all she needed.

she comes once again, nimbly wrapping around javier like a vine, her walls squeezing him so tight it makes his release warm, white ropes inside of her immediately.

they both pant, as they come down from their high. realization sets in as they meet each other's gaze.

"thank god you're only an intern, querida. I'm strictly forbidden to fuck employees." Javier chuckles. "oh, shut up, jerk." y/n huffs, smiling as she presses yet another kiss onto his lips.

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎ 토끼's NOTE : surprise!!! i honestly dont know what this is.. wanted to try my hand at some kind of romance ig. im also in my javier era SO YEAH. Grammar errors probs, not proofread. this has 2.75k words. THANK U FOR ALL THE SUPPORT <3

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