#and she calls him pendejo

[neuvillettes]

my fav coworker lets me call him pendejo on the reg and i appreciate that 🤭

[lazaruspiss]

do kinda love this version of copperhead who keeps cursing bruce out in spanish

[eccentricwritingbaby]

fake or real? 

charles leclerc x sainz!reader

summary - y/n sainz had just broken up with her boyfriend of four years. with the tension of both ferrari drivers at each other's throats, their pr team believes it a good idea to have y/n and charles date. y/n can look like she’s moving on from her boyfriend and save her company, charles can look like he likes his teammate, ferrari can avoid any future pr disaster. everyone wins! right?

masterlist 

-

you woke up from your slumber with a pounding headache and pounding on your bedroom door. 

“Y/N! abre la puerta, es carlos,” open the door, it’s carlos

you groaned a bit and shuffled out of bed, still dressed in the clothes and heels you wore to the club last night, too drunk and tired to worry about removing it all. 

“que?” what? you squeak out, throwing your heels to a corner of your room as you open the door to face your older brother, “this better be an emergency, that’s the only reason i gave you a key to my place, pendejo,“ asshole 

“aye aye, no need for the harsh names, hermanita,” little sister you huffed and went towards your ensuite bathroom in order to clean up a little bit more as carlos continued, “i got a call today from my press officer, ferrari pr wants to speak with you, so you’re coming back with me to italy,” 

you shot him a confused and unimpressed look as your toothbrush hung from your mouth. it was like he could read your thoughts exactly with his response, “i don’t know what they want to speak to you about, just think of this as an all expense paid trip in my favor, porfa,” please

you rolled your eyes and shut the door to change clothes as your brother continued his pestering, “y/n it’s probably nothing serious, just something about you coming to more races for a family thing or something,” he shouted through the closed door. 

you opened it in a huff, all changed into some more comfortable clothes, “carlos they are your pr team, not mine. if i don’t want to pick up and go then i’m not going to. i have a job and a life here, i can’t just excuse that for your team or your boss,” 

“i know that, y/n, and i would usually support that but…” carlos shifted uncomfortably across from you and began to stare at his shoes - an obvious trait there was something hidden he needed to let go of. that he was lying. 

“but what, carlos?” your voice was sharp and direct, scaring your older brother just a bit to meet your eye and finish. 

“your company’s pr team also recommended it, it was a joint decision for this meeting. they think ever since marco-”

“do not say his name,” you spit out at carlos. he shakes his head with a deep breath in as an apology and continues on. 

“okay, lo siento,” i’m sorry carlos takes a deep breath again, “ever since a couple months ago, you’re losing the buyer’s trust since you haven’t been around. you are your brand, y/n. and you haven’t been on brand in months. you’ve just been clubbing every single night and sleeping throughout the day. your brand is about strength, and right now…” he wears off, not daring to look you in the eye in order to see your pain with his final words, “your company thinks you look, well, weak,” 

carlos looks up to meet your eyes, glossed over and a bit red at his confession. your lip shakes, leading you to bite down on it in order to gain control, “when do we leave?” is all that slips out of your mouth.

you knew the breakup had been hard on you and you weren’t exactly ‘healing’ from it correctly. you knew you had missed board meetings and pr opportunities because you felt so sick. all you kept replaying in your head was finding your boyfriend - marco - in bed with his coworker on your anniversary. it was a rough one. you had been together for what would have been four years. and now - about a month and a half later - you’re facing the consequences. you knew you couldn’t scrape by like this forever and your board members would have you in check. therefore the confession carlos made didn’t hurt as much - it was a necessary reality check for you.

-

“hi everybody, i’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here today,” the ferrari pr officer speaks into the conference room filled with you, your brother, some of your press team and charles. 

charles? you look at your brother with your eyebrows knitted and he returns the look right back, not understanding what your eyes are asking which was - what the hell is charles leclerc doing here? rolling your eyes and a light huff being released from your mouth you shake your head in the direction of charles, widening your eyes in order to get your question across. however, it falls on an idiotic brain because carlos just shrugs his shoulders and looks towards the direction of the speaker yet again. 

“there has been some obvious tension between the teammates, carlos and charles, and the fans and media are now picking up on it. we thought it would be a good idea to squash that as well as assist y/n with reintroducing her public image if charles and y/n began a relationship,” she finishes with a happy smile as if she just cured cancer while you and charles could only gape at her audacity. 

“excuse me, could i say something?” you speak up, pushing your chair out from behind you as you stand. 

you could hear a distant monegasque accent whispering a ‘please’, giving you more of a confident push with his support, “if my brand is all about strength as you said,” you gesture towards your team, “then how would me falling right into the arms of another man represent that? is female strength really about a man making me fall and another man picking me up? wouldn’t that be what makes me weak?” 

your pr officer - amanda- goes to speak up but you cut her off quickly to continue, “i don’t mean to sound bitter or arrogant but i just don’t believe that this will do what you believe it to. carlos has one year left on this team, there is no reason to keep up happy smiles with them, and as for me, i will be fine after i meet with the board in a week,” you take your seat and eye charles. he gives a light smile and a thumbs up, earning a wink from you back to him. 

amanda now stands and looks directly at you, “y/n, i don’t want to be blunt but at this point it is what you need. sponsors do not want teammates who hate each other. sponsors are dropping your brother and charles. and as for your ‘board meeting’ - they are discussing finding a new ceo if you do not clean up your act and get it together. and marco has been out and about with his new girl as you have been sloppy at clubs and pubs. so this is actually a last ditch effort. do it, or lose it all,” 

with yours and charles’ confidence now shook, he speaks up slowly and quietly, “what will we have to do?”

“y/n attends races on your arm, at least every other week. a public outing once or twice a week,” amanda keeps talking about the details, but you simply drown it out. you knew you needed a reality check but this? this was the rug being pulled out from under you. they wouldn’t take the company you built from you. and you won’t let your brother drown either. 

-

the next day, you are officially official with your ‘boyfriend’ charles leclerc. walking hand in hand through italy and getting gelato together. what a cliche, is all you can think right now, but the thumb rubbing over the back of your hand brings you out of your pessimism for a brief moment. 

“are you alright with this?” charles asks you as you continue your walk to the shop. it wasn’t a paparazzi walk, only a slight soft launch to get people to start talking. 

“i think i have to be,” you chuckle out. he laughs with you and nods his head. 

“yeah, your amanda was kind of harsh about this,”

“she usually is, that’s why i hired her, i enjoy the brutally honest,” you look up and meet his soft eyes, your stomach doing a flip you haven’t felt in years. 

“it seemed like she didn’t want to be like that with you, though,” he gently pushes you, ever so kindly to keep going, something you pick up on and yet still go along with.

“everyone’s been like that since the breakup,” you shrug off as you both walk into the gelato shop, “carlos, my parents, my friends, amanda, even the board of directors at my company. but that’s what i hate,” charles raises his eyebrows, inviting you to keep going.

“the sugar coating, being nice and talking around the problem - i’ve never liked that,” 

charles lets go of your hand quickly to order and pay as you find a table, and as he slides into the chair across from you, his hand appears in yours almost as quickly as it left. 

“i understand that, i hate it too,” he continues on from your conversation, “whenever i have a bad race, my engineers will try to justify it or make me feel better when i just need the criticism. it’s the only way i’ll get better,”

you nod along as you eat, chiming in again, “exactly, even though it hurt to hear when amanda said that to me, i wish she had told me earlier so that this wouldn’t be a last ditch effort. but no, everyone had to tiptoe around the broken-hearted girl when really i just needed a swift kick in the ass,” you laugh off and charles joins your giggles. 

“this isn’t so bad for a last ditch effort though,” he adds in.

“eh, it’s growing on me,” you both laugh again into your gelato, ignoring the phones filming you both and the whispers growing around you. 

-

it had been four months of public outings, race weekends, calculated instagram posts, and ‘dating’ charles leclerc. you two had always been friendly, but due to the time together, you’ve grown to enjoy him more than you thought you would. you’ve grown to enjoy this more than you thought you would. your fake relationship felt more real than your real one ever had. and it scared the shit out of you. 

“y/n? are you ready?” charles calls from outside the bathroom door, tapping his ring clad hand against it a few times. since people talk, amanda had suggested you share a hotel room during race weekends to not raise suspicion. since you both were adults, you slept in the same bed just fine, yet the tension was able to be cut with a knife. both you and charles could feel it, you were just waiting for the other to make the first move. tonight after media day at silverstone, charles was taking you to a nice dinner for your average fake-dating date. you wore a little black dress as charles sported a white button up and dress pants. ‘an attractive match’ as the media tended to call you both, and you didn’t complain. 

“i’m coming, char. just need a little help with my zipper,” you grunt out back to him, still attempting to zip it up on your own.

“let me in, i’ll do it for you,”

“it’s open,”

as charles opens the door, his mouth drops open for a second before he closes it, not letting you catch his eyes draping over your body in admiration. his hands ghost over your shoulders before they land on the zipper, synching you up into your attire. you spin around to face him, eyes darting between his own then down to his lips, your breath intertwining with his. 

“we’re gonna be late,” you whisper out, patting his shoulder as you squeeze around him and out of the bathroom to slip into your shoes. 

charles - still stunned by your brief moment in the bathroom - comes out of his fog with a cough to clear the air along with his throat, “you’re right, we should get going,” and with that you both head out of the room and out of the hotel. 

-

walking out of the restaurant, hand in hand, both you and charles felt so good it was decided you’d walk back to the hotel. it was only a few blocks and the cool breeze with the lack of rain was something you needed to take advantage of when in england. 

“i had a nice time with you tonight, y/n,” charles sighs, swinging your hand a bit in his. 

“i did too, char. we always have a good time,” you reply with a light laugh, continuing to swing your intertwined hands. 

“i mean it, though, like, on a different level,” he slowed down his pace in order to really speak to you, to get through to you. your eyes darted around, catching a few phones beginning to surround you. 

“kiss me,” you whisper out. charles’ eyes widen in surprise as he hadn’t noticed why you told him, taking it instead as a sign that you understood what he was trying to express to you, that he loved you. 

“are you sure, y/n? because i know it’ll get complicated and-”

“no, charles, there are people looking, just kiss me so this seems real,” you hiss towards him, beginning to pull on his shirt. charles leans in for the kiss, pushing his hurt from your words to the back of his mind in order to simply soak in any chance he can get to kiss you. 

once pulled apart, you both stay close to each other, having both felt the love that radiated through the kiss. one of you - charles - was giddy and giggle while the other - you - were scared shitless. you couldn’t fall in love again. your position at your company was just saved, your brothers sponsors back on his side, and even worse you couldn’t let yourself get hurt and fall into a hole again. you wouldn’t be that version of yourself again. 

pulling away quicker from charles, you kept your hands linked as you kept walking back towards the hotel, but he could feel your grip loosen and your feelings begin to grow cold again. 

once in the hotel room, you headed straight for the bathroom to change and get ready for bed, yet as you were closing the door - a hand came up to stop it from closing. swiftly turning around, you bumped into the chest of charles. 

“what the hell?” you ask more to yourself than to him.

“what was that tonight?”

“what do you mean?”

“the kiss, we both felt it - i know you felt it, y/n,”

“felt what, charles?”

“SOMETHING! ANYTHING!” he shouted in exasperation, making you jump from the surprise in his lifted tone. 

“i don’t know what you mean,” you grumble out, turning back to the mirror and starting to take off your jewelry. 

“y/n,” charles sighed, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose while his eyes screwed shut, “this between us is real, it’s not fake anymore i don’t know if it ever has been,”

“we just get along, charles, we’re friends,” 

“then explain the kiss,” he pushes, hands now coming to rest on his hips, challenging you to finally admit the feelings he knows you have for him. 

“we’re both good kissers, so it felt good,” you shrug off. 

“y/n, please, you know this is real just say it,” a few beats go by after charles’ ply as you stare at each other through the mirror. you’ve halted your movements, blood rushing everywhere in your body except your brain. 

“i- i can’t charles,” you finally stutter out, his stare only intensifying. 

“why,” he pushes, “if you can’t tell me that you love me and this is real then i need to know why,”

you spin around quickly, courage taking over as you take the two steps in order to stand in front of him, “because i will not allow myself to be a mess again all due to a man,” you respond sharply. even though your tone was even, you could feel your eyes beginning to well up as you continue, “i almost lost the business i built from the ground up because some man ruined me, no one will get that power again, i won’t allow it,” you take a shaky inhale as charles’ eyes soften at your confession. 

“but, if there’s no risk, there’s no reward, y/n,” he speaks softly to you, as if an octave higher would shatter you to pieces, “and you deserve a reward,” you could feel him slowly wearing you down, his scent filling your nose and his crystal eyes taking over your vision, “let me be your reward, y/n,” 

“kiss me,” you breathe out, fading into your happiness as his lips take no time to land on yours. the sparks were flying, a magnetic pull bringing your lips together again and again. he was taking away your pain, as he’d been doing for months, and rebuilding a heart he never broke. and a heart he had vowed to never break. 

-

a/n - if you want a part two with reactions and them just being happy together and stuff let me know send in requests! i feel like i could do more with this story so just lmk how you feel <3

[donatellawritings]

hiii mamita!! first off i wanna say i love ur writing and characterization SO MUCH!! ur my absolute fav latina representation in this fandom and im sending u sososo much love <3 secondly, could we pretty pls have rafe w latina reader who’s constantly using spanish around him and he eventually understands her enough to get some things but doesn’t say anything until she says something slick one day under her breath and he calls her out so she’s like oops🫢🫢🤭

tysm for the kind words, angel <3

this is so bff!rafe coded …

rafe was an obsessively busy man — the poor guy just had to keep himself occupied, or he’d find himself slipping off into the deep end. so, he never actually took the time to learn spanish, but he had a pretty basic understanding of the language, solely thanks to the fact that he spent most, if not, all of his free time around you, listening to your jumbled rants. and it was clear to him which words were profane and insulting, by the way you’d huff and roll your eyes whenever they rolled off of your tongue.

you see, rafe was fully aware of your bitchy side and how your sweet and delicate demeanor could quickly flip into a bratty and entitled state, especially when you didn’t get what you want — which just so happened to be your current dilemma with rafe.

it was simple — you wanted to soak up some sun in your brand new frankie’s bikinis two-piece, while your bossy best friend, rafe was adamant about going to the country club to catch up with topper and kelce, over a glass of whiskey.

lifting your miu miu sunglasses to sit atop of your shiny blown out hair, you leaned your head back against the cushion of your lounger, the sun deliciously biting your bronze skin, “pendejo,” you mumbled, rolling your bambi eyes as rafe began to walk away from where you reclined.

stopping dead in his tracks, rafe cocks his buzzed head to the side, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, “the fuck did y’just say to me?” he spoke, his voice low as he approaches you with quick and long strides, before yanking you up to your feet by your elbow.

with pouted lips, you kept your eyes away from rafe’s, “i didn’t say anyth—”

letting out an unamused chuckle, rafe grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his, “y’lucky i don’t break y’fuckin jaw,” he warns, harshly releasing your face from his tight grip as he watches your eyes well with tears, “don’t start that cryin’ shit — fuckin’ kid,” he spits, balling his fists at his side for a brief moment, before opening his hands, muttering under his breath as he walks away from you.

furiously knuckling away the tears that threatened to spill down your flushed cheeks, you keep your head down, a wobbly pout on your swollen lips.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

rafe didn’t go to the country club that afternoon. and you sat by the pool for about an hour, mindlessly splashing your french pedicured feet in the light blue pool water — you hated when rafe was upset, more so when you were the reason for his anger. but, you also knew how volatile and impulsive the son of ward could become, so you decided to wait it out for as long as you could.

rising to your feet, wet footprints stained the pavement as you padded towards the door, you eyes sparkling with shock as rafe walked through the door, “what are y’still doin’ here?” he questions blankly, monotone and all as he brushes past you, shoulders tense and jaw locked.

ignoring the way your tummy swirled and churned with disappointment, you exhaled sharply through your button nose, deciding to force yourself to be unfazed by rafe’s harsh words, “i don’t like when you’re mad at me,” you whine, dragging yourself where rafe sat, legs spread and a sweaty bottle of cold beer in hand.

taking a quick swig of the beer, rafe shrugs, “and i don’t like when y’get a smart fuckin’ mouth with me, just because y’wanna be a spoiled fuckin’ kid,” he counters sharply, setting the beer down beside his foot.

you really pissed him off.

nodding your head, you quietly brought yourself to straddle your best friend’s hips, noticing the way he licked over his lips, before pressing them into a tight line, “can i give you a besito? i’m really sorry, rafey,” you sighed, batting your cutesy lashes as your softly brought your nails to scratch at rafe’s abdomen.

remaining silent, rafe earned a playful eye roll from you as you leaned your tits into his chest, pressing your full lips into his structured cheek with quick pecks, “i - mwah - am - mwah - sorry - mwah - papito,” you giggled between kisses, sealing your apologies with a stolen kiss to rafe’s lips.

craning his neck back to get a better look at you, your skin all bronzy and dewy from your earlier suntan, rafe raises his eyebrows, “papito? that’s a new one,” he comments, raising a hand to rest on your the sweaty skin of your lower back.

with wide doe eyes and parted lips, you gasp, “you like it?!”

letting out a defeated sigh, rafe pulls you in by the back of your neck to press a kiss to the top of your warm hair, “yeah, s’cute, kid.”

[ohnothisisathing]

It’s crazy how so many of these kids are just so much like their parents and this stream highlighted that a lot. The admins are killing it. I could not stop thinking about how much Em was Bagi’s kid during her interview, calling Cucurucho out, with Mouse’s aggression in her signs. Ramon was trying to be inconspicuous with that broom and giving Cucurucho absolutely nothing was all Fit and he even did the Tazercraft power move of placing down their color coded chair to stake claim on that block like is new pai. Leo literally replying to Cucurucho asking if she’s weak like Foolish does when people (Roier) call him pendejo, but instead of “Yo soy inteligente y mamadisimo” she said “Soy fuerte y mamadisimo”. Dapper was unbothered like his dad and casually stealing things in front of everyone like he’s done since Day 1 with his thief of a father but that fearless threat and twerking during the fight was reminiscent of his mother. Even Pomme and Richas leaving before everything was characteristic of the slippery and defiant French and Brazilian CC’s. It’s so good.

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! 👀 👀 👀 Miguel is such a yummy spicy daddy I'd slurp him up like menudo. Him being protective daddy is 😩

I imagine Gabi to be an excellent team player, but like her Papa she will throw a fit at losing lol

Not like a kid fit, literally just throwing and kicking trash while cursing in Spanish while Mama is trying to calm her down. Miguel is both horrorified but also on the verge of dying of laughter, especially with Mama glaring some holes into him lol

"Gabi" you called but she ignored you. Hands crossed on her chest as she kicked the poor rock that happened to be in her way.

Despite her dad sticking up to her to that mean man that always gave her a disgusted stare, her team lost last minute due a self-score a teammate of her did. Victor.

"Le dije a ese tonto que me pasara el balón!" (I told that dummy to pass me the ball!)

She pinched her nose bridge and then threw her arms up dramatically. It was like witnessing a mini Miguel throwing a tantrum

"Next week you will do better, baby" you offered as you tried to embrace her.

"No! Mama! Lo habíamos planeado! pero el pendejo de Víctor lo arruinó" (We had it all planned, but stupid ass' Victor messed it up)

Both Miguel and you stopped dead in your tracks. Horror struck your face at the foul word that flew out of your daughter's lip.

"Gabriela..." Miguel warned and she only frowned as tears menaced to flow on her eyes. You kneeled next to her and cupped her cheeks.

"I know this game was important to you, and you spent alot of time practicing, but that language isn't allowed for you, mi amor. Would you like to go to get some pizza?"

She sniffed and shook her head. Miguel kneeled and cupped her flushed in anger cheeks instead, as fat tears rolled quietly on her face.

"Solecito, mírame" (Look at me, Sunshine)

She did in between blurred eyes, hiccuping as she cried.

"You did your best, okay? You were great. Sometimes things just don't go as planned and that's okay too."

"Es que son tan estúpidos y lentos!" (They're just so stupid and slow)

Miguel just hugged her and carried her in his arms, letting the meltdown cool down. He couldn't help but bite his lip, trying to keep the laughter at bay as you glared holes into him.

He didn't know if he was proud or terrified for Gabi to be a a copycat of his character. And he of course wouldn't hear the end of it when you got back home.

[adrienneleclerc]

Birthday Breakfast

Pairing: Landó Norris x Latina! Fiancé! Reader

Summary: Lando’s fiancé makes him a birthday breakfast

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

After dating for 3 years, Lando proposed to his then girlfriend, now fiancé, Y/N. 2 months after, Y/N moved into Lando’s apartment and they’re very happy together. Right now, Y/N and Lando were clearing the table after dinner.

“A ver, mi amor, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Y/N asked, putting the dishes in the sink for Lando to wash. Lando let the water run, wet the sponge, and added soap to wash the plate.

“Mm, i Don’t know, baby girl.” Lando said, scrubbing the plate before rinsing and placing it on the drying rack.

“Well, you don’t have a race this weekend, you haven’t thought about what you wanted to do?” Y/N asked.

“I just want to spend the day with you, darling. I don’t get to do that often, you know?” Lando said, continuing his duty of washing the dishes.

“There must be something you want to do, fresita.” Y/N insisted.

“How about we go to Nice, hm? We could visit a cathedral or one of the many museums.” Lando suggested.

“But that’s more like something I want to do.” Y/N voiced her concern.

“And all I want to do is make you happy, so if my birthday is spent in Nice on the English Walk and eating at Chez Thérésa, that sounds like a good day to me.” Lando said as he finished washing the last dish in the sink and placing it on the drying rack.

After their conversation Y/N set her alarm for 6am so she has time to surprise Lando. She put her pajamas on and did her skincare routine before kissing Lando Goodnight and joining him in bed. When Y/N’s alarm went off, she quickly silenced it.

“Mm, what was that, love?” Lando asked, his voice was Low and a little raspy.

“It’s just a phone call, okay, bebé, go back to sleep,” Y/N said and she removed his hand from her waist and got up. She walked into the kitchen and got out the things she needed to make their breakfast. She put an AirPod in and put on her playlist so she could “focus” on cooking. She pulled up a list of what Lando needs in his F1 driver diet and made him avocado toast with scrambled eggs and turkey bacon on top (let’s pretend it follows his diet) while she made herself chocolate chip pancakes and cut up a strawberry to serve on top. While she was getting a glass from the cupboard, she felt Lando’s hand on her waist,

“Ay, pendejo, you scared me,” Y/N said, turning around to hit him.

“Ow, that was uncalled for.” Lando said.

“Sorry, fresita.” Y/N said and she leaned forward to kiss him. “Happy birthday, Lando. I made us breakfast.”

“Thank you, my love,” Lando said, kissing her,

“Hopefully now your fans will stop being concerned about you eating like a frat boy.” Lando groaned and began kissing her neck. “Baby, I was in Portugal for a week for a modeling job and you were eating expired food.

“Can’t we forget about that and enjoy the breakfast you made while it’s still hot?” Lando asked and Y/N laughed

“Okay cariño, Let’s eat.” Y/N said. “But seriously, you need to stop worrying your fans like that.” Y/N said, cutting up her pancakes to eat.

“I’m trying to do better, I promise.” Lando chuckled and they continued eating. “Thank you for breakfast, baby girl.”

“Happy birthday, fresita.” Y/N said, kissing him.

The End

Was this a little stupid? Yes. But it’s Lando’s birthday so I have to post something

[amusingmusie]

Hi, I really hope you're faring well. Just wanted to say that I love your writing and yours truly, and I thought about something.

In hell, Alastor is a lot more durable and unkillable, so I imagine that's a lot more of a headache for Nel. She's walking behind him, ready to bash his skull and all of a sudden his head does a 180 and she's like >:0.

Also demon Al's hygiene must be HORRIBLE. So she's probably going to have to chase him around the hotel with a toothbrush and soap to no evail because he's a slippery motherfucker now that he's a demon.

Thank you so much for writing this masterpiece, and have a wonderful day <3

Fresh As Hell

Content warning for the Hazbin cast being themselves.

You're running out of ideas.

This has gone on far too long. The smell of an old shoe here, a hint of halitosis there, even a whiff of swamp water wafting your way if you get too close: it's all evidence that you can't ignore any longer.

Alastor kind of fucking stinks.

Sure, you've told him since your human days that his swampass stench is overwhelming, but that was a dig to piss him off, not the actual truth (usually, as long as his mother pressured him to scrub his tail). Nowadays? Well, if the demonic stop sign admitted that he bathes in his bedroom's wetlands, you'd be less than shocked. Shit, you'd actually be relieved if that were the case, because then you could fill the bog with soap and perfume to mask whatever funk perpetually lives on Alastor's grey skin. It's never overwhelming enough to knock you out; it's maddening subtle, the musk of his hair and the bite to his breath.

Maybe you could survive the Great Stink of '24 if he didn't insist on being on top of you at all times. Every time you turn around, you're assaulted by crimson, static, and Alastor's personal brand of miasma that wafts off of him since he insists on being no less than three atoms away from you.

Sure, it's possible you've got beef with his aroma since back in the day, the shitter smelled like freshly cut wood with notes of amber and his teeth sparkled like diamonds. You've seen his hygiene at its peak, which is why you cannot cosign this rank tomfoolery. Unfortunately, all of your attempts to rally the idiots at this hotel to agree with you that this is an issue have ended in disaster, leaving you without any allies in this fight.

"I haven't really noticed much, and hey, here at the Happy Hotel, we're receptive to more, um, eccentric lifestyles! As long as Alastor is being a team player and helping out with our mission, there's no reason to make him uncomfortable by bringing up his personal choices!"

"I don't get close enough to that pendejo to catch a whiff of whatever you're talking about."

"I dunno, tootz, I like a man with a little musk to 'em."

"Fuck off and fuck you."

"I like man stink~"

You're very much on your own here. The war on Alastor's subpar hygiene will be fought by you and you alone, and you won't be deterred- you've had worse battles before.

When you're once again yanked into Alastor's side and exposed to a faceful of his armpit in the lobby for the upteenth time, you vow to take action against him, more for your sake than his.

Game on.

---

Your strategy calls for small, stealthy actions in the beginning.

Positioning yourself in plain sight at the hotel bar with two cups of coffee, you wait for your target to appear. It's the perfect scene: you, alone (save for the bar cat, but he's passed out with his head down on the counter), with coffee. Alastor can't resist this. Hardly more than three seconds pass before a rush of static and a chill wash over you. A gentle pop sounds off to your left, and then you're greeted by your least favorite radio host smelling stale as ever.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" he cries, purposely shouting too loudly into your ear. "You're looking especially horrid this morning. Did you happen to catch a glance of your reflection in the mirror before it cracked?"

"No, I was too busy imagining all the ways I could skin you alive before eleven."

"Well, it is eight already, so hop to it, you need all the time that you can get to brainstorm!"

As his invisible audience laughs alongside him, you flick a handful of mints into his unguarded coffee cup. The jackass is too busy chortling at his tired jokes to realize that you've done anything at all. Perfect. Holding back your smirk is a damn hard move when Alastor finally lifts his red mug to his full lips and swallows down a mouthful of minty coffee.

Success.

Until-

"Hm..." Alastor hums, blinking his red eyes plainly. Then he promptly turns, spits out a stream of dark liquid onto Husk's bowed head, and snatches up your cup of coffee. After sipping down your drink, he sighs contently. "There, much better! Ah, that was a juvenile play, dear. You're losing your touch."

The deer motherfucker teleports away while you're left with a pissed off cat and determination to win this war.

---

Next comes the idea to douse Alastor in whatever perfume oils you can find as a direct plan of attack. Instead of using your precious concoction that you paid out the ass for from Rosie's Emporium, you decide that these other assholes living around here could stand to help out for five seconds. You're not asking for their support- just their cologne.

Angel is the unlucky winner that you approach since whatever he wears is pungent enough that it has your eyes watering on a good day. The spider leans up against his doorway, legs in your face and fluff looming above your head as you make your case.

"Listen." You crane your head back and fix him with what you hope is an amicable stare. "I'll shoot straight with you. I need a favor."

"Oh?" he asks, raising a perfect brow and examining his gloved fingers. "I don't do girls, sorry not sorry."

"No," you grumble at him. "Not that kind of favor. I need to borrow your perfume- whatever shit you wear is strong enough to be smelled across the Pentagram. All I need is to borrow the bottle for five minutes and I'll have it back to you good as new."

"HA! You think I'm letting you make off with my smell-good for free? No no no, nobody gets to borrow what I wear, not even Cherri. It's custom! You're out of luck."

"You're here at the hotel to redeem yourself- part of redemption is being selfless."

"Actually, I'm at this shitshack so I don't have to pay rent, and redemption don't mean you get a spritz of my good shit. Go ask some other shmuck." Angel laughs in your face one final time, then spins around to shut his door.

"I'll owe you," you spit out. That has the fluffy demon pausing and you fear that you've either royally fucked up or royally succeeded.

"...Owe me what?"

"One favor equal to borrowing your perfume that doesn't involve me getting my ass kicked or double dead."

Angel grins delightedly, retreats into his den, then sticks one spindly arm out with his perfume sitting pretty in his palm.

"Have at it!"

And you do, with fear of Hell's #1 pornstar in your heart.

Alastor comes in to kick your legs under the table during dinner and you immediately whip out Angel's perfume to soak the son of a bastard down. There's an ear-ringing screech before Alastor pops away, leaving you with a table full of coughing, gassed-out hotel inhabitants that are very, very pissed off.

Once Vaggie is done chewing you out, Angel Dust leans over and whispers, "You still owe me for my draining my fucking reserves, dollface."

Fuck.

---

After weeks of attempted baths, desperate tooth-brushing sessions, dirty bribery, and numerous double-death threats, you've decided that you have no choice but to go completely nuclear. Clearly, your rotten plague of a deer demon is determined to resist all attempts to freshen him the fuck up, so you are prepared to pull the dirtiest trick in your book. Forget screaming or cussing; you'll have his ass eating out of the palm of your hand in no time with this.

"Hello, my rotten peach!"

Ahah, it's time- you're about to win this little game no problem. You take one look at Alastor in all his awful glory here in the parlor, steady your face into an uninterested expression, and then you. look. away.

Alastor stares.

"I said, hello, my rotten peach! My fetid fruit! My most crusty crop!" he announces slightly louder as if you didn't hear him.

Nothing. No reaction. You refuse to engage with someone that smells of fragrant toes and has gums darker than his coffee; you'll have him suffering from your silence if those are the dumbass choices he'd like to make.

Just barely concealing his panic at the sudden lack of your attention, Alastor clomps closer, then pokes at your side with his staff. The thing winces from the contact. You, on the other hand, are not weak and will not relent, so you continue to watch the parlor wall with great interest.

All according to plan.

Charlie passes by, humming a happy tune. When she spots you lounging on the couch with Alastor hovering over you, she smiles at the familiar sight, and offers a happy, "Good morning!"

"Morning, Princess," you greet her. Then you return to wall watching.

Alastor wilts.

You smile.

And you play the winning game.

For days, you refuse to acknowledge anything having to do with your favorite least favorite parasite. If he materializes in front of you when you're reading a novel? You don't even flinch. If you awake to him standing over your bed and staring with glowing eyes? Well, there's no need to do anything but roll over, that's just Tuesday. You hardly bat an eye when a black shadow warbles over your shoulder as you brush your teeth; no, you simply show it the brush and toothpaste for a proper tutorial on how to avoid ripe ass breath. You're enjoying the power you hold over Alastor, and you especially enjoy the way his stupid tufts flatten against his head when you deny him any attention for a whole week.

You believe that victory is yours.

---

As you trudge downstairs for another miserable day at the Asscrack Motel or whatever they're calling this place nowadays, you're overwhelmed by a new scent permeating throughout the lobby- freshly cut cedar, something slightly floral and musky, hints of amber, and immaculately washed manass.

Shit.

You know that smell. You know that smell very well. It can only mean one thing.

Then you spot him in all of his glory; Alastor is leaning his spindly body against the hotel bar with a freshly patched suit, styled hair slicked back across his head, and shining teeth. Oh God, he smells and looks like Heaven, and suddenly you decide that maybe you don't give two shits about that white speck in the sky when you've got this presented to you on a metaphorical platter.

With a little grunt, you move closer, appraising Alastor with an indifferent expression. His static is whirring sweetly in the background while he simpers down at you- yeah, he's proud and peacocking a bit, you can tell from the manner in which his lips curl and the way his chest puffs out. Goddammit...he knows that he's got you hooked like a fucking sucker.

"Yeeeeees?" he sings when you stare for a second too long. "Something on your dreadfully empty mind?"

"..." Hm. You could shoot him for being annoying, but he did do all of this dolling up for you.

Ugh. You hate him so much.

So you yank him down by his lapel so you can kiss him square on the mouth. For the first time in a long time, he tastes of mint and sunshine instead of rot and coffee, utterly intoxicating you in the worst of ways. You drag your lips against his and feel that they've been moisturized, and when he bites down on your tongue, there's no slippery plaque to offend your senses.

All of this effort just to get you to look his way.

Good.

Then you release him with a pop, flip him the bird, and walk off with your head held high.

Alastor just hums in satisfaction from his place at the bar, idly commenting, "I've still got it," to a very disgusted Husk and Vaggie who are doing their damndest to ignore the scene.

You'll call this one even.

(Loosely based on a very old conversation with @gemrocknerd).

[xcherryerim]

Mexican Mike Headcanons

tw: light Death mentions (of his mom and garret) / smut headcanons at the end (gn!reader)

— Mike is a quarter Mexicans from his dad side

— Probably biased asf but he’s norteño

— Mike’s dad is a truck driver. When his dad needed to drive to Mexico Mr. Schmidt made sure to comeback home with Mike’s and Garret’s favorite candies.

— His favorite candies are Bocadin, Duvalin and Chokis.

— The only reason Mike kept getting hired after his awful track record is because he can somewhat speak spanish.

— After Mike lost his family (except for Abby) he didn’t really practice any more traditions like he used to do but, after moving to his now current place (which is mainly for lower class and immigrant families. This is canon in the book btw)

His neighbor which happens to be a 42 year old single mom, decided to help him in subtle ways like cooking meals from time to time for him and Abby. She even invites them to some family gatherings (carne asadas, birthday parties etc) as well.

— The lady always tries to set Mike up with her oldest daughter tho

— Every time winter approaches Mike eats tamales and arroz con leche excessively.

— Mike snacks in peanuts which is SO SPECIFIC but mexican dads always snack on cacahuates. (He’s entering his dilf era)

— After reconnecting with his roots a bit because of his neighbor, he tries to practice more traditions specially Día de los muertos (day of the death). He’s not really a religious person, but he always prays for his mom and garret to be at peace wherever they are.

— If you think Mike speaks quietly, wait for him to speak in spanish. His voice is softer too but that’s only because he gets self conscious when he’s talking to people that only / mainly speaks spanish.

— Mike dosent really mix english and spanish when he speaks unless he’s angry.

— He dosent really curse but when he does is in Spanish. He calls himself “pendejo” (dumbass) a lot.

Headcanons with his partner (+18)🫶🏻

— Mike says he has two left feet but, just give him a bit of alcohol and a slow song and he’ll dance good.

Just imagine dancing to bachata while Mike wears a dumb yet charming drunk smirk as he whispers into your ear the lyrics.

“¿Qué dirías si esta noche te seduzco en mi coche?Que se empañen los vidrios y la regla es que goces. / What do you say if I seduce you in my car? fog up the windows and the rule is for you to enjoy.”

— Mike wouldn’t really use spanish pet names unless he’s trying to get something out of you. “Cariño” and “Amor” are his main ones (and that mf says them slowly to tease the fuck out of you.)

— One time while you two where fucking, he leaned, bitting and sucking on your neck as he praised the fuck out of you in spanish and you swore when he used his raspy voice mixed with his light accent, that was already enough to make you climax.

— After he realized this, however, he tried to only speak to you in spanish for a week to purposely turn you on.

— This man, is a gift giver. He would literally give you a ramo buchón with a big ass bear for no reason.

— Mike mainly calls you his spouse / wife / husband sometimes he also says it in spanish as well. “Mi cónyuge / esposa / esposo”

(But don’t do it to him or he’ll actually plan out the whole wedding in one sitting)

a few of his favorite music in spanish:

[papuhater]

EARFQUAKE

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚a/n: i'm fixiated. this is short because this is kind of them getting to know eachother ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ cw: reader knows spanish ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader

in which miguel o'hara falls in love with a married woman, married to his variant.

"so this is awkward"

"shut up parker" he spat out "what did you say?"

"y-you can't be-" she stepped away "miguel? why do you look like him, this doesn't make sense, i-"

"why did you call me cariño? huh?" miguel was aggravating

"y-you look exactly like my husband!" she was walking in circles, she had taken her phone out, and seemed to be searching for something

"look, ninety nine, that's not a good pickup line, so-" before he can talk, she climbs to his platform and showed him her phone

"no, i'm married, you look like my husband!" she showed him a picture, a picture of her, being kissed on the cheek

by him

miguel stares and then looks away

"i see."

"yeah, in my dimension i'm married to miguel b o'hara."

"oh." peter said and mayday babbled, he held her up "mayday took a dump, i gotta change her, goodbye." he ran with mayday in his hands, while the two of them just stood there.

"yeah."

"so i'm married in your dimension?"

"yes."

"to you?"

"mhm" she nodded, clearly annoyed

"¿qué vi en tí?"

"that's rude."

"you were too."

"because you were first, estupido." he rolled his eyes and shook his head

"anyways, look, ninety nine, i want you to join this society."

"why should i?"

he sighed loudly and massaged his temple, then he faced you

"look, we keep the multiverse in check, and we are a spider society, we fight anomalies, and we keep dimensions from dissapearing."

she took her mask of, revealing her face, and she stared at miguel with serious eyes

"what if i want to destroy the multiverse?" he visibly stiffened "just kidding."

"you better." he huffed while glaring, he grabbed a gizmo from the table and threw it to her direction, she quickly caught it and eyed it curiously, her lips tightening into a straight line as she cocked her head

"so... do i put this on my wrist?"

"no" he stared at her with full on seriousness "you place it on your neck, even though the gizmo looks like a watch" he huffed "of course you put it on your wrist."

"damn you don't need to be sarcastic"

"i have to be when i'm surrounded with pendejos."

"are you a fucking imbecil?"

"no, but you on the other hand, possibly"

"i told you empanadas de carne" he got closer, as if he was explaining to a little kid "not empanadas mixtas."

miguel had sent you to the cafeteria to get empanadas de carne, it had been a few months since you had joined, but you always ignored his wishes, it was hard to see him in a serious light, mostly because he has the face of your husband, it was very hard at first, your tongue slipping and calling him amor, cariño, etc., at first it bothered him, a lot, but then he got used to it.

"but you like empanadas mixtas-"

"warm, freshly baked ones, not cold freezing ones!" he growled, he turned away while muttering 'ya no puedo más' repeatedly.

"didn't you mami taught you to not be picky?" she swung towards him, with the carton in hand, she got closer to him "or did your mami feed you, until you were 10?" she cooed while grabbing an empanada

"aquí viene el avioncito~" she said in a sing-song voice, she made airplane sounds and lifted the empanada to his lips, they lightly touched them, he had a scowling face, and he pushed her gently with his arm.

"stop it" he scowled, while turning away, but you did the same

"oh c'mon" you pushed the empanada against his lips again

"¡parala!" he roared, expecting you to cower away, but you didn't, you shrugged and left the carton with the empanadas in his desk

"you better eat them or i swear-"

"ya, ya, lo hare." miguel shrugged you off

she took one empanada and left

"i'm clocking off, amor!"

your home was comfy, a nice apartment in the city of york nueva, you always made sure to check the windows, to see if miguel, well, your miguel, had arrived.

he hadn't, it was still afternoon, and he was at work. so she quickly dipped in one of the windows and took her mask off, she took a deep breath. and her routine began, she went to her room, changed into civilian clothes, and began cooking, possibly some caldito, and as she boiled the chicken, her phone rang.

"yes?"

'hola mi amor' miguel's sweet voice filled the speaker, and she smiled, this was her miguelito, not her boss.

"hey, how are you? how's work?" she asked,

'boring as always" he chuckled "so i called you to tell you that i'm not gonna make to dinner" her smile dropped "some co workers invited me to get some drinks"

"i could come" she offered, her miguel had started to drift away, as if there was a wall between them. there was a pregnant pause, filled with tension "that was stupid, you know, you can go, you don't need to ask for permission, have a nice night."

"okay, love you"

"...love you"

she hanged up and left the phone on the counter. she sighed and massaged her temples.

her and miguel were having a rough patch, it possibly began when she stated that she wanted kids, a lot.

miguel didn’t like children, and it created a big argument, harmful things were said, and a barrier was created between them

she sighed, went to her room and laid down, staring holes into the ceiling, the lone feeling crawled into her skin, and she felt cold.

“mierda” she mumbled and turned around, hugging herself.

it was going to be a long night

series list

translations:

"¿qué vi en tí?" =what did I saw in you?

amor, cariño = love, sweetie

párala= stop it

ya, ya, lo haré = okay, okay, I’ll do i

'hola mi amor' = hi mi love

caldito = soup

mierda= shit

taglist

@simeon-lovergirl

@allysunny

[aliveinacoffin]

Miguel O'Hara fluff

A spider-reader has the fattest crush on Miguels fat ass.

And maybe he does too.

Have a crush on your ass, not his.

Also more than likely ooc but we both know if you're here you don't mind. (I'm so sorry)

___________________________________________

"I do not!" You huffed out, throwing your arms up.

"Oh come on, literally everyone here has noticed your thing for Miguel." Jess laughed, setting her hip on the table while she looked through her watch.

"Even if I do, he one hundred percent doesn't feel the same." You sighed, setting your feet down from the metal table. Your spider eyes wide and to the sky, your mask hid the deep frown you had.

Jess looked up to you, and even though she couldn't see your face, she could tell that you were upset. You didn't bounce back to your usual positivity and silliness, instead replaced by silence.

"I didn't mean anything by it, I'm just teasing you." She rubbed your shoulder affectionately.

"I know, thanks mom." You brushed her hand away, chuckling airily. Getting up you leaned over the table to oversee all the science-y papers that had accrued.

"On the tone of mom...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's so cute! Jess is really excited to have a baby. I just wished she hadn't told me her and her husband have been trying for awhile." You said.

"Good for her! I'll have to ask her more about it later." Sun spider, or Charlotte as you've come to know her, said. She already had been jotting everything down in her notebook for the Spider-Weekly, a weekly magazine made for the spiders in the verse, by the other spiders.

It wouldn't make front page, maybe somewhere in the drama section.

"Yeah, she's really excited to be a mom." You had your back turned, your attention focused solely on following the recipe to make more web. You didn't notice the door open to the private lab, or Sun-Spider panicking to do something 'important.'

"Whose excited to be a mother?" A deep voice growled out, commanding in the way the question was asked.

"Jess! Haven't you-" You turned around, the smirk you wore dropped when you saw him.

Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara, or Spiderman 2099 stood towering over you, serious face and a deadly look in his eyes.

He was always so deadpanned, Miguel always wanted spiders to focus on missions and missions only. He never liked gossip, and any time you came in to spill the tea, he did everything in his power to ignore you. Which is why recently you had to go to new avenues, like Sun-spider. It wasn't like she wasn't your friend, you two just weren't that close.

"Uhhh, Jeeeeess???" You winced out. You weren't really I'm the mood to get scolded at, especially not with company. But leaning over, you saw that Sun had abandoned you.

Miguel's eyebrows went up a fraction, such a fast and small movement that if you hadn't been staring at him you wouldn't have noticed.

"I wasn't aware of that." He simply stated, looking over to see what you were doing. He called out your name, quickly taking the vials you were holding.

"Hey! I was working on that." You leaned over to see what he was doing, encroaching on his personal space, his weird hologram suit fizzing gently against your felt one.

"Well, you were doing it wrong, mensa." Miguel said, annoyed. So annoyed that he had to help you doing such a simple task.

"Hey! I may be a no sabo kid, but I know what that means, pendejo." You huffed out, you watched him quickly mix together a variety of liquids and chemicals. Quickly transferring and stirring each step of the way.

"Of course you'd know all the curse words." His brown eyes met yours, a bored look on his face.

"I do not! I know like, simple shit. Yo comprendo un pocito tambíen, cara de caca." You cackled, turning around to hang up your lab coat.

You missed the way he hung his head and smiled, holding back a silent chuckle.

"¿Sí? Veo que eres bilingüe." Miguel straighted his hunched over form, looking to you over his shoulder.

You stared at him, slowly piecing together what he said. "Hey kiss my ass!" You threw a random manilla folder at him.

He caught it before anything could spill out, surprisingly fast for a man with no spidey senses.

"I'd rather not."

You rolled your eyes at his serious response, and came over back to the table. "Thanks! Though, could've totally done this myself." You shrugged, putting out an overconfident personality.

"Yeah, that's why it wasn't on the verge of exploding. How you managed that is beyond me." Miguel shook his head, rolling his eyes. Watching you refil your web slinger.

Silence filled the room while you completed the simple task, the air tense.

"You haven't come to me in a while. I thought you went AWOL." He said, simple words you were waiting for him to utter.

"W-well. I've been turning in my reports on time. Just as long and descriptive as always." You shrugged, not meeting his intense gaze.

"That's not what I meant."

He meant the fact that you hadn't come to his office to complain the the printer wasn't working, or that the morning was horrid as always, or the drama in the office.

The truth? You started to look forward to speaking to him, seeking it to quell the loneliness that was left after the butterflies. You started to avoid the feeling of your fave heating and the speed of your heart, knowing that the stoic man would literally never feel the same.

"I just-got...busy?" It was more of a question than a statement, unsure of your answer.

"How? You've done nothing but prance around as usual."

Okay, um wow, ick.

Just kidding, his ass was too fat to get the ice.

"Hey! I'm a busy spider person! I have many, spider things to do." You were waving your hands around. You turned on your heel, going to walk out before a strong hand literally covered your shoulder.

"Wait, did I....do something?" Miguels voice drastically changed, stern to soft in seconds. His eyes were searching yours too.

"I-no, it's just. I don't know man, I'm sorry." You admitted, eyes looking down while you played with your hands.

"If-if I did something, you should come to me to fix it, as your superior you should always report to me." Miguel said, sliding his hand off your shoulder, and his usual face of stoicism came sliding back on.

That as well, Miguel was technically your boss, the man you scouted you out and now that you work under.

"I know. That...this doesn't have to do with that."

"Then what-what is impending your work." He was stretching, you knew that, but you couldn't just tell him, hey I'm totally in love with you but I know you don't feel the same so that's why I'm avoiding you!

Things don't work that way.

"Nothing it's just...it's nothing really, it's fine." You turn back around, missing the way Miguel reached out to stop you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A ding made Miguel O'Hara look up from the feed he was watching. He turned behind him, looking at the new report that just came in. It was from you.

Miguel filed it away from later.

He had once complained to you how long they were, and how he didn't need to know every detail. You made a point after that to make them even longer and lengthier.

He would never, never admit it out loud, but he liked to read them just before bed. He loved your writing, how he could just step in and be there, like he was there with you, fighting alongside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Miguel?" Your voice was unsure, timid. You couldn't see the platform he was usually brooding on, and you stepped out to try and find him.

Your face dropped to an annoyed when you saw him slowly descending from his throne.

"When are you gonna make that thing faster?" You called out.

"I do it so it so my work isn't disturbed further." Miguel said pointedly. You climbed up the platform when it got close enough, pushing away the floating screens from your face.

"I brought you lunch! I didn't see you at the cafeteria so..." You shook the box, and put it down on his desk.

The awkward silence hung on the air again, before you couldn't bear it, but the beating of your heart made you falter.

The sight of Miguels' handsome face and built body made your heart pound and stomach twist.

You mentally slapped your face before you took a deep breath in.

"So did you hear about plush spider-man and Toy Spiderman?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should return to your universe." Miguel had waited until the two of settled in silence to say something. Usually, you ranted for awhile before you were called into a mission.

But this time, nothing pulled either of you away. And Miguel listened while you talked, it was mostly you anyway. At first when you started to bug the older man, you didn't know if he was listening or not, but you saw how his ears perked up and how he'd subtly remind you of details of stories that you'd told.

"Woowwww, you're kicking me out? I'm not that annoying, am I?' You looked up at him from where you were hanging, a fake hurt look coming to your face.

"You are, and you should leave." He didn't even look back to you, only reading some article or report.

"Miggyyyyy." You called out for him. He hated it when you used that nickname, but you loved watching him shake his head.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and watched what he was doing with your head on his shoulder. A massive shit eating grin decorated your face as he tensed and glared at you. You ignored your racing heart and hot face just to see the look on his.

He didn't push you off there, merely pausing for a moment before resuming his work. "You know I hate that nickname, it's annoying and unprofessional."

"Unprofessional? Because we're all a super serious business, a super legit business too." You laughed.

Miguel rolled his eyes, they constantly flick from your face to his work.

"Whatcha doiiinn." You rested your chin on his head, quickly getting bored.

"Working. Like you should be doing." He said, exasperated.

You made a fart sound, "Working is for nerds, me? I'm a cool guy." You walked away from him, getting ready to jump off the platform before you looked back at him. Shocked to see he was staring at you.

There was silence, again. Something so unusual for you two, for you.

"Yeah?" You asked, timid.

"Theres...." Miguel stood up, turning to you fully. "Lunch, tomorrow. Would you...like to go out for lunch tomorrow? There's a special going on at some place downtown, and I thought it'd be something that you'd enjoy."

You blinked owlisly at him, this was so...out of character for him. And he seemed apprehension, like every word he said was like pulling teeth. His fave seemed more red, his skin making it more apparent since he already had a reddish undertone.

"I-I'd love to! I mean," You cleared your throat, and stood up straight, putting on a serious persona, "Yeah sure its whatever." You snifged, wiping your nose to try and look cool.

Miguel gave you a blank stare, but unlitmatly rolling his eyes to let out a chuckle. The sight was something to behold, especially from your serious leader.

"I'll see you tomorrow! And I expect you to be wearing people clothes, since we'll be going out as people!" You laughed, jumping down and running from the platform.

Miguel just let out a fond sigh as he watched you leave. And he turned around to Lyla giving him a smug look.

He scowled, "I don't want a word from you."

She mimicked zipping her lips closed, smirking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[leclerc-s]

track 004. vete a la fregada

─── ❝ te miré con alguien más, vete a la fregada ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

liked by maejones, logansargeant, lilymhe and others

isabellaperez pre-miami dump. local american boy is thrilled to be at his first home race.

tagged: oscarpiastri, maejones, maxverstappen1, danieljricciardo, schecoperez, logansargeant, alex_albon, lewishamilton

view all comments

landonorris why does oscar get to be in a photo dump before me this year?

↳ isabellaperez because oscar's more tolerable than you

↳ oscarpiastri wow.

↳ isabellaperez sorry koa!

↳ oscarpiastri can you not call me koala? thanks.

↳ isabellaperez as long as you call me bella i'll call you koa.

maejones wow. we look great

↳ isabellaperez dump max and date me. please. i don't care if nonsense is about him

austinriley lookin' good

↳ arthur_leclerc just got the biggest biggest ick ever.

↳ dulceperez vete a la fregada pendejo

↳ danieljricciardo not-so-kindly fuck off. no one wants you here.

↳ charles_leclerc i can and will run you over with my car.

↳ maxverstappen1 "i hit you like bang"

↳ logansargeant i don’t even know you but i’ve heard many things. stay away or the war criminal will be sent after you

↳ user93 max is on twitter, he's seen the tweets

↳ user31 logan gets the way things work around here. love my fellow american

user49 i didn't know she was close to logan and oscar, guess she is.

user06 BABY LECLERC APPEARANCE! REJOICE!

↳ user85 i love how none of us know what baby leclerc looks like or what her name is.

↳ user06 natalia and charles are amazing parents and their friends are great too. they're keeping this secret for them because it's important to them.

lewishamilton when did you take that picture?

↳ isabellaperez oh, i've been holding onto that one for ages. figured this was the week to let the people see it.

user46 the williams boys look so happy.

she wasn't nervous, fuck max verstappen for thinking she was. isabella perez was not nervous to be seeing her asshole ex for the first time in months. so then why did she ignore his voice, that called out for her to stop? because she was late for a meeting with christian, that's why, not because she was nervous. okay, so maybe there was no meeting with christian but in her defense she was scared, not nervous. isabella picked up the pace when she heard his voice getting closer, failing to notice the boy in papaya standing in her path. she crashed into him, causing him to lose his balance, nearly toppling over.

"oh, shit, i am so sorry. i didn't see you," she quickly said. she turned to look back and noticed him getting closer and held her breath. oscar followed her line of sight, and noticed him, it was hard not to, his tank and tattoos made him hard to miss.

he approached them a smile on his face, "bella, how are you?"

isabella scowled, "my name is isabella, not bella."

austin laughed, as if he was catching up with an old friend, "you didn't mind before."

"i did, you just didn't seem to give fuck on what i minded or not."

"we need to go," oscar said, grabbing isabella's hand, "charles invited us for lunch, remember?"

"and you are?" austin questioned, not letting them make their escape just yet. oscar stared at him, "oscar piastri."

"oh, pastry boy," austin smirked, "you're not all that special. how's life treating you at mclaren? better than alpine?"

oscar pulled isabella back, noticing the girl was ready to throw a punch or two at austin. he didn't want to be the one to tell sergio that his niece needed to be bailed from jail for assaulting a guy. the perez girl was fuming at austin, but it wasn't anything oscar hadn't heard before. at this point, it was water off a duck's back.

"life's great at mclaren, thanks for asking. now, if you'll excuse us, we have to catch up with some friends. you do know what those are right? or do you not have any?"

austin opened his mouth to reply, but by the time he had found something to say the duo had left him behind. isabella was laughing loudly, still holding oscar's hand, while the boy was telling her something. they were off in their own world and austin wondered if there was more to them then they let on.

duckling god, i'm begging you, please make my feelings for this man go away.

paddock dad i told you so

duckling you know what seb, i don't need this right now. not when i'm facing feelings for a fucking koala and my shit ex is in miami at the grand prix

paddock dad HE'S WHAT? WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?? NOW I WON'T BE ABLE TO BE IN MIAMI!

honey badger it was in the groupchat seb

paddock dad ISABELLA STAY AWAY FROM HIM

super max i think oscar has got us covered.

paddock dad what’s that supposed to mean?

duckling hey, should i start a red bull support group? like current drivers and former drivers?

honey badger please stop trying to change the subject, what’s this about you having feelings for oscar? and why the sudden epiphany?

duckling he held my hand

super max going back to the red bull support group thing, i vote no because then you’d have to include mark webber?? oscar’s manager?

duckling i forgot about him…🫢 but pierre and alex…

paddock dad i wish i could forget mark

duckling that answers seems a little fruity to me but okay.

honey badger MULTI 21 SEB!!!

paddock dad LET IT GO ALREADY! honey badger NEVER!

duckling are you sure the two of you didn’t date? there was so much tension between you two

paddock dad like you and oscar? super max i expected that sort of comment from daniel not seb

duckling besides what could possibly go wrong this weekend?

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, pierregasly, danieljricciardo and others

redbullracing and for the second year in a row mr. worldwide isn't present at the miami grand prix. excuse me while i go cry. peep the picture of max being utterly in love with charles.

tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris, schecoperez, fernandoalo_oficial, pierregasly

view all comments

📍redbullracing REJOICE SALTY SPICE HAS GIVEN UP ON TRYING TO CONTROL ME! MR.305 PLEASE COME TO THE VEGAS GRAND PRIX!!!

user84 wonder how many pitbull memes isabella has saved.

↳ redbullracing the limit does not exist.

nataliaruiz never seen someone as in love with charles as max is and charles is my boyfriend.

maejones someone remind max that he and charles have girlfriends

logansargeant i will never understand your love for pitbull

↳ redbullracing "this for everybody going through tough times. believe me, been there, done that."

danieljricciardo please stop playing pitbull in the garage.

↳ redbullracing no, you will appreciate pitbull or i'll start playing gasolina again.

↳ maxverstappen1 please don't i can't handle hearing the words, "zúmbale mambo pa' que mis gata' prendan los motore" again

↳ redbullracing and yet, you know the words.

↳ user90 never thought max verstappen would know the words to a daddy yankee song. this is peak humor.

↳ maxverstappen1 i don't know the words, i googled them and i pasted them in the comments

↳ redbullracing BOO! YOU WHORE!

user42 isabella terrorizing the red bull garage with pitbull and daddy yankee was not on my 2023 f1 bingo card

↳ isabellaperez they must learn to appreciate the music of my people.

↳ dulceperez we're mexican, pitbull is cuban and daddy yankee is puerto rican. they are not our people.

↳ isabellaperez you're right it's time to terrorize them with paquita.

↳ schecoperez canta le a austin rata de dos patas

↳ user31 damn that's foul.

user29 with every red bull post i am reminded why isabella is my favorite admin.

sebastian vettel someone want to tell me what the hell happened?

arthur leclerc OSCAR ALMOST THREW HANDS WITH AUSTIN

oscar piastri snitch, also, that's not true!

mae jones in oscar's defense, i almost bit someone's ankles and i genuinely think max almost punched someone.

max verstappen that is very true. that klootzak is so fucking lucky christian stopped me from punching his arrogant face.

sebastian vettel what happened?

dulce perez well, austin was being a dickhead and tried to get into the red bull garage and gp stopped him. which is when he started shouting like a maniac for my sister and she came out of the garage, which we all told her not to do, but she never listens, like always. bailey winters which is when, oscar, two garages down, heard the commotion and left his own garage, and saw austin stepping closer to isa, when he stood in front of her and told austin to leave, in the kindest way possible. but of course, he didn't, started calling isa his "sloppy seconds and a whore" mae jones then max, checo, danny, and christian, who were all in a meeting, stormed out of the red bull garage, because gp had told them what was happening, heard him say all this crap while oscar's yelling at austin to go away, still in the nicest way possible. max walked over, told him to fuck off and things really escalated when austin asked if isabella had slept with someone on the team to get her job. freya vettel that's when oscar and max really lost their shit, started screaming at him to get the fuck out of the red bull garage, he still didn't. christian is trying to get security but they were busy solving a different problem, so it took a while, danny and checo are trying to comfort isa, who's on the verge of tears. then max winds up ready to throw the first punch, christian sees this, grabs max and pulls him away, while oscar and austin are shouting at each other. lando norris that's also when someone let's arthur free, so this man barges out of the ferrari garage like a man on a mission and is the only one to touch austin. he pushes him out of the way tells him to get lost, curses him out in french, and that's when security finally escorts him away and this man is still shouting but security tells him to stop causing a disturbance or else they'll ban him forever. that's when he shut up.

sebastian vettel arthur pushed someone? that's the part of the story i find hardest to believe.

arthur leclerc ok it's not like an asshole shows up at every race and starts shit with my best friend.

arthur leclerc and if charles has a bloody nose, it wasn't me. but he did hold me back and was met with an elbow to the face. charles leclerc a mistake on my part truly.

max verstappen my only regret is not punching that klootzak.

sebastian vettel isa, are you okay? how are you doing?

isabella perez i'm hanging out with little jewel, that's the best form of therapy. look at that cutie. who can stay sad around her?

oscar piastri you should get a dog.

dulce perez we should get her to go to therapy first. then she can get a dog.

isabella perez i'm fine. it's not like i almost had a panic attack in front of everyone? oh wait... i did.

sebastian vettel isabella, you should go to therapy. maybe that will help you conquer your fear of falling in love again.

isabella perez i'm don't have a fear of falling in love. daniel jones-ricciardo you do. max verstappen you do.

sebastian vettel we can't keep being your therapists

isabella perez uh, yes you can?

daniel jones-ricciardo go to therapy isa.

OLLIE!

i'm not going to be your therapist isabella.

that's not what i was going to ask you

yes, you were. can't you go bother arthur? your best friend? or dulce, your sister?

arthur's telling me to get therapy. i don't need therapy. dulce's annoying, don't tell her i said that, she'd kill me.

yes, you do. based on what i've read, you have a crush on oscar and don't want to admit it because your ex messed up the way you receive love.

okay, when did this become a call out isabella session?

what were you going to ask me?

do you think i should get a dog?

you can barely talk about your feelings, what makes you think you can be responsible for another life?

at least it's not a child

please, do not have a child.

why would i need to have a child when i have you?

ollie bearman i think isabella just became my grid mom??

arthur leclerc what the fuck???

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! yeah, i tried making austin the biggest asshole i possibly could. kinda hate him and i wrote his character. this has been sitting in my drafts for a full week already but i just didn't think it was good enough, but oh well.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[zombholic]

| 𝐃𝐑. 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐓. 𝟒 |

abby’s pov

walking into the seattle hospital, abby greeted everyone, hands in her white coats pockets as she entered her personal office.

Dr. Abigail Anderson

was written on the black door name slip, unlocking her door she slid her coat off, placing it behind her rolling chair before taking a seat herself, she starting on all the paperwork for surgeries she had to confirm for. a soft knock from her door only a few minutes after she walked in.

“come in” her eyes never adverting from her paper and signatures “hey abs, i got you coffee” owen chimed in, placing her favorite black coffee on the table near the doctor. “oh hey owen, thank you, how you been?” she finally focused her attention on her ex fiancé who unfortunately is neurosurgeon at the same facility.

“i’ve been the same, just curious, manny is having an engagement party next week on sunday, he finally proposed to ms. scientist” owen let out a chuckle, desperately trying to get his ex back. “yeah of course i’ll come, haven’t seen that pendejo in months” she crossed her arms, mans spreading in her chair.

“would you be wanting to come with me? yanno, for old times sake” he left out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck “well, i was thinking if manny will let me, bring my close friend along instead” she only used close friend not wanting to assume your guys situation at the moment. seeing as owen clearly tensed up in his chair, he sat up straight.

“oh who’s the friend?” he could only curiously ask, not knowing what abby has been doing ever since she broke things off with him “her name is y/n, she’s pretty young but i think everyone would love her, she has the best humor i’ve ever seen” the muscular woman clearly swooning over the girl, even just saying her name gave her butterflies in her stomach.

“oh a girl” owen relaxed a bit, not seeing the very indicating signs that his ex was now fascinated with someone else, a woman. “i don’t think manny would mind at all, she’s probably harmless” he would’ve continued on the conversation until his pager started to go off “that’s my sign to see myself out, see you sunday abs” his gaze lingered a little longer before he left her office.

abby pulled out her phone, her big arms leaning on her desk as she carelessly scrolled through all your social media pages. abby being older didn’t understand that tiktok showed who was able to view your page, the doctor repeatedly watching all your videos, biting down on her bottom lip.

one thing about the cardiologist is that she loved to take things slow, first kiss on the third date, confirm the mutual feelings for each other, she will take her time to make sure its the perfect day to ask you to be hers.

abby hates having intimate moments over the phone, it’s classless unlike her who will take you out on the most magical date, wait till the moonlight is shining on your face, ocean waves flowing so heavily she has to give you her coat to ask you to be her girlfriend.

then theres you … who is literally the most impatient, impulsive girl anyone knows, how else did you get majority of your tattoos anyways? and how else did you end up with three cats that you had to sneak into your apartment to avoid the repulsive pet fee. you’ve gotten into god knows how many fights and arguments with random people because they looked at your loved ones the wrong way.

polar opposites

—

abby dialed your number into her phone, waiting as it rang for the first, second and third time before you picked up with “doctor? is there an emergency” you sarcastically gasped causing abby to snort “yes there is actually, i need you to be my date for my friends engagement party” she had a toothy smile over the phone, your voice already having her in a foolish daze.

“and how could i ever say no to that? it’s a date lady hulk” god that made her die of laughter “lady hulk? you’re so creative with your words baby” you swore up and down if she continued calling you these pet names you would get down on your knees and suck her str-“will you pick me up?” you spoke up “of course, i’m a lady, i’ll see you sunday and i’ll text you the time when i find out ok?” her little black box going off in the pocket of her fitted scrubs “sounds good to me doc” “bye sweetheart.”

she smiled oh so sweetly before hanging up the call, she could swear that she could listen to you talk nonstop and never get bored. getting up and wrapping the coat around her she dashed into the patients room “he’s having a stroke, close the curtains.”

—

sunday came creeping by sooner or later, abby who was getting dressed in a fitted long sleeve beige sweater that showed off her arms so well, black slacks with a belt wrapped around and her boots, her har as always in her signature braided ponytail.

she wrapped a cartier watch around her wrist, god she looked so expensive. abby grabbed her engagement present for her friends and headed out her house to swoop you up finally.

parked outside of your apartment she took her phone out to text her pinned contact, y/n 💕. (shes a old give her a break)

—

Hey, I’m outside.

coming! putting on my shoes loser

—

she watched as you exited the apartment complex, she couldn’t keep her damn eyes off of you, admiring every aspect of your outfit to the way your black skirt fitted your waist, your grey sweater that fell off your shoulder to the stunning way you layered your silver jewelry.

silver, got it.

she thought to herself, doing her usual thing and opening the door for you, the smell of your florally perfume hitting her like a drug that she can’t get enough of. “you look so so beautiful y/nn” she softly licked her lips, basically drooling over you.

you couldn’t even lie, you were doing the exact same thing, your jaw wanting to drop to the floor with how she had her sleeves rolled up halfway on her arms, god her arms. “you literally look tasty” you giggled causing her to grin.

—

y/n’s pov

it had been almost ten minutes since you and abby arrived at manny’s, abby having a glass of very expensive liquor in her hand while having you cling onto her other arm like you were showing her off, she loved the way you were wrapped around her.

“so y/n are you in school? majoring in anything?” owen brought up, he was burning holes into your face ever since you walked in holding abby like she was yours. “um no, i’m not in school, i just decided it wasn’t for me i think i rather just explore different things before i settle into one thing for the rest of my life” nora and mel were literally in awe of you, they loved that you were so open and honest.

“oh so what is it that you’re interested in doing?” mel smiled, genuinely wondering unlike owen who wanted to tear you limb from limb. “i think if i do want to school for something it would be veterinarian school, i adore animals.”

abby couldn’t keep her eyes off you, gently rubbing her fingers on your arm with a loving smile across her freckled face. “so do you work?” owen butted in once more “yeah i work at a small coffee shop” you gave him a tight lipped smile causing him to snicker “abby you found her at a coffee shop?” he remarked, he fucking hated that he would rather be with someone of working class than him.

abby was quick to defend you but you were quicker “listen white guy, not all of us our privileged enough to even afford to go to school, i will beat your ass if you keep talking” you jabbed your finger in his chest, everyone around chiming in to calm down the situation.

“oh please you’re the size of my fucking arm i can throw you around like a rag doll” abby pushed you behind her, grabbing the collar of owens button up, nostrils flaring as she threw him against the wall causing him to lose his breath for a minute. “keep talking owen and i will rip your god damn head off” she yelled before manny had to get in between the both of them.

“owen it’s time to go, guys the party is over just go home” he sighed defeated that owen managed to ruin a important day for him.

—

abby had taken you to her place, still in complete anger from what owen did. you sat on the edge of her bed as she undressed into something more comfortable, she walked back towards you, cupping your face in her hands making you look up at her, her thumbs softly caressing your face “i am so so sorry for what he did, i would have never let him touched you ever.” you held one of her hands that was holding your face and smiled up at her. “abs, i’m not mad at you i swear, plus why was he even coming at me?” you farrowed your brows in genuine confusion.

she sighed heavily, getting down on her knees in front of you, her hand still holding yours. “he’s my ex fiancé, he was jealous of you, why do you think i left him? he always had outbursts like that and i just couldn’t.” she shook her head disappointed “ew you were almost married to a man?” you looked at her in disgusted before turning into a ball of laughter “he’s so ugly, why?” you were curious “i can’t even tell you myself hun, here, i’ll grab you some of my clothes and you can stay here for the night ok?” you felt your stomach burst out in fireworks.

staying at her house? oh my god.

AUTHORS NOTE: yall … anyways fuck owen and idk anything about working at a hospital so if my info is wrong DONT COME AT ME!!

[tarjapearce]

Now I’m curious of how wife!reader and Miguel meets again 😭 and how they started dating. Do they meet again at a different hosted party and Miguel asks her for a dance this time ((and her name 💀))

🤭🤭 Actually

Pt. 3

The whistling from the referee echoed through as the men on the field began playing. Jessica, once more, had kidnapped you after finding you were in a blue mood after you got ditched in a date.

"Never going through Tinder again." you had mumbled as she offered you tissues.

But of course, partially the reason why you had came was

1. Shirtless men playing

2. Jessica and another red headed woman and you, were in charge of the water and refreshing drinks.

You found out that Mary Jane Watson was her name, or MJ for shorts was dating Peter, the guy that had hosted the carneada. She was pretty easygoing. However, the familiar hulking figure running through the field stood out like a sore thumb.

"Hey" You name was called by Jessica that followed your eyes and smirked

"Oh, that's Miguel."

"I know. Met him at the party remember?"

"Heard he has a girlfriend. But doubt it. "

You shrugged.

"Okay? He just helped me out a little."

"Hmm."

A little disappointment settled in your chest.

In any case, your attention was snapped back to the field and the little ruckus on the field. Miguel was held by Peter and another man called Ben, as the rival player kept provoking him. Gabriel pulled him back.

"Oh, Drácula is pissed"

"You kidding? They're playing dirty." MJ spoke, concern plastered all over her face as Peter tried to calm the situation.

You watched from the water station, eyes following the ball, but they couldn't help but to land on Miguel. Shirt soaked in sweat, hair down, some strands sticking to his forehead, and neck, pouty mouth panting and cursing.

"Pasámela, pendejo!" (Pass it, you dumbass! )

A giggle escaped from you as he pinched his nose bridge with one hand. He moved but the crowd gasped. One minute he was walking away and the next he was on the floor, cursing and limping. His knee was scrapped and it bled. The good thing was that the guy that had injured him, got a red card.

"Do you happen to have any first aid kit by any chance?" Peter approached as Jess and MJ shook their heads.

"I think I have one in my car. I'll get it."

Peter smiled and went back to Miguel, mahogany eyes immediately following your form.

When you approached him, he had removed his shirt to dry the sweat off his forehead, to then slick his hair back. Eyes staring at you with a little smirk.

"Pitufina, eres tú?" (Smurfette is that you?)

"In the flesh, Gargamel."

You both chuckled as you sat before him, he was about to wipe the caked blood and dirt with his sweaty shirt. Your hand slapped his away

"¿Estás loco? Se te va a infectar!" (You're crazy? It'll get infected)

"It's just a scrap"

"Cállate. God, your girlfriend must be a saint to put up with you."

A swab of cotton was soaked in alcohol, he quirked an eyebrow at your words and chuckled.

"No tengo-" (I don't have-)

He hissed as your hand wiped the blood first. The chemical stung on his raw skin, but seeing you focused, a little furrow on your pretty face made the sting to slowly fade . You then grabbed a gauze and wiped gently the excess of fluid.

You looked up at him and pursed your lips

"So I can..."

"Sorry, Out of game for now." You laughed at his words and shook your head.

"Who said I wanted to?" He chuckled at yours

"No, I was meaning to do this without remorse." You sprayed him some antiseptic and he batted your hands away with a mild panic expression, as the initial burn was a bit too much.

"Hija de la chin-" (Son of a-)

You laughed. as he fanned the scrap

"Esa mierda arde!" (That shit burns!)

"Ay, no estés de llorón. It's just a scrap remember? " (Don't be a cry baby)

"Not fucking funny" He grumbled as you gave him a bottle of water and a towel. His fingers brushed against yours, the touch lingering for a bit longer than it should.

"For me it is. I'll put a gauze on it okay?

"Déjalo así" (Leave it like that)

"No. It's too fresh for you to keep it exposed"

He was about to bat yout hands away when you loomed the antiseptic spray directly on his wound. He stopped and frowned, a finger trying to threaten you.

"Cuidadito" (Careful)

"Haz caso entonces." (Do as you're told, then)

You just glared at eachother.

"Get a room already." Gabriel casually mumbled as he picked another bottle of water. The rest just looked your way with silent mirth. They had been watching cautiously the interaction between the two of you.

The comment instantly made you pout, a soft flush on your cheeks. Gabriel left.

"Ese pendejo..." (That dumbass)

He grumbled and scratched his neck awkwardly.

"Anyways..." You sighed and applied some vaseline at the wound. Your hands were gentle, caring and soft.

"Pitufina"

You grumbled your name as you finished covering his wound.

"Right." He nodded with a tiny smile

Silence.

You were putting the things back in the kit. Eyes following your every motion, you were nervous. He smirked

"Wanna go... and get some food later? My treat"

He blinked at your sudden question. All smugness vanishing from him.

"After you've taken a shower and changed of course" You giggled and looked up at him.

His heart beat a bit faster and he gulped almost imperceptibly.

"Si quieres, claro" (If you want to, that is)

You smirked with a shrug. His mouth gaped softly

"¿Es un si? " (Is that a yes?)

He just nodded, still a little shaken from what just happened.

"Bueno, Adiós Drácula." (Well, see you)

You left after patting his thigh gently, His ears went a little pink.

He didn't see that coming at all. He smiled inwardly. Yeah, he'd better step his game up. He was rusted, but you'd definitely worth the shot.

[av1xtg]

It's so funny to me that it's so obvious when I get a new hyperfixation because everything everywhere for example tis blog suddenly turns to what ever hyperfixation I have. . .

NOW I WANNA TALK ABOUT HUSK AND MY HEADCANONS FOR HIM BECAUSE THAT SILLY GRUMPY OLD-MAN CAT IS TAKING OVER MY BRAIN (contains a bit of huskerdust and bad grammar because english is not my first language but I have no respect for it so /j)

So I fully headcanon that husk has the most un organised and dirty room for some reason, like he never even bothered decorating it.

He hates baths and oils and stuff like that because it's really hard to take off from his wings and fur.

He refused to wash his hands with water and he cleaned his hands like cats do before eating food or serving drinks so charlie forced him to at least use wet wipes (idk how to write tht but hope you understand it)

He loves old fashioned love songs, usually mumbles some lyrics he still remebers while working and the others like to hear his singing.

The fluffies fluff ever, he doesn't really use any products (only dry shampoo from time to time) AND STILL HIS FUR IS EXTREMLY FLUFFY.

He got extremly bad body dismorfia when he arrived at hell.

The others tease him alot whenever he does any cat sounds.

Instead of a glass of water on his nightstand he had a bottle of whiskey or any other alcohol.

If he's in the mood (and charlie asks nicely + a day off) he might do some magic tricks to entretain the other guests.

Whenever he speaks spanish he always calls evryone pendejo (as a mexican that is also my favorite curse word I gotta add that). Like him and vaggie are fighting and she desn't know he speaks apanish so she starts insuting him in spanish and he goes "CALLATE LA PINCHE BOCA PENDEJA TUERTA" (traduction: SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING ONE EYED WOMAN) and she shuts up because she didn't expect that. (Now they speak in spanish together sometimes)

One time Sr. Pentious gave him catnipp because angeldust dared him to and husk went WILD. Like everyone was laughing nd half th hotel was filled with cat scratchs while husk followed Sr.Pentious who was escaping with the catnip in hand from him kind of wild.

He wants hugs and he won't admitt it.

Used to be a bit to proud as an overlord which is also half the reason why he lost to alastor.

Fucker cries a lot and won't admitt it because he already stablished to everyone that "I don' give a shit about anything and fuck y'all" and now he just can't.

He falls asleep a lot during work because he is drunk.

He owns a phone but uses it like a grandma, he puts on the glasses to read and everything

He once had a very bad night and got EXTREMELY DRUNK and ended up doing a karaoke with charlie and Sr Pentious.

Alastor would ocationaly take him to the Overlords meetings as his "body guard" and he would get extrembly embarrased because everyone recognised him and he knew they all thought of him as a failure for being an Overord who lost his own soul to Alastor and was now forced to obey him.

Thanks to loser,baby I think Husk may be a pet names man (affectionatelly both romantic and just with friends)

Husk reminds me a bit of "No surprises" by radiohead (i don't really know how to explain it but yeah)

I think his relationship with angel (romantically speaking) would be really gentle like, cuddles, hugs, little kisses, cause he wants to show that romantic relationships don't always need to have sex included (angel appretiates that)

I feel like they told each other their felling for the other but bth came to the conclution that maybe they are not in the best mental state to get into a relationship at the moment so they asked charlie and vaggie to help a bit.

I have more but this is getting a bit long so I'll make a part two!!!!!!!

(Have some photos of the silly 70 yr old grumpy cat-man)

[loliwrites]

November: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

part four of fountain of sorrow

pairing: javier peña x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother [reader has a young daughter][child won’t play a massive role], sassy chucho, chickens, brief discussion of past physical abuse [not graphic], javi being a good girl dad, SMUT, fingering, mild exhibitionism, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, subtle declarations of love-ish, post-sex photos, female reader, no physical description, girl dad!javi, soft!javi, protective!javi, no use of y/n. word count: 8.0k series masterlist a/n: ALL CAPS EXCITEMENT

Javi combed his hair in his normal style, then inspected his mustache, making sure it looked neat and tidy. He ran his hand over his mouth and then jostled his shoulders. A quick glance in the mirror and a swipe at an errant wrinkle on his button down shirt. The last time he’d been on a proper date… well he ventured to figure that was way back when with Lorraine. A little out of practice here, which somehow felt even stranger considering he was so well practiced with the sex that usually came after proper dates.

He’d only just flicked off the bathroom light when the knock at his door came and was paid little attention. Probably just a neighbor. The more who knew he was back in town, the more came over to ask a favor or rehash the miserable past. So he paid the second round of knocking even less attention than the first. Surely they’d get the hint and move on. Leave him alone.

“Javier! Abre la puerta, pendejo!”

No one more than his father loved to call him that. And hearing Chucho’s increasingly frustrated grumbles, Javi rushed to the door and yanked it open just as equally frustrated as his father. “What?”

“That’s how you greet your father now?” Chucho pushed past Javi and entered the house mumbling under his breath, “cabrón.” Then, as if it had taken him a few extra seconds to realize his son looked more put together than usual, he spun around and eyed Javier. His eyes flicked up and down to inspect him. “Where’re you going?”

“What do you need, dad?”

Chucho smirked and folded his arms over his chest. “My boy’s got a girlfriend, don’t he?”

“Dad,”

“Who’s she? Do I know her?”

“Do you need something? I have to leave,”

“Came by to say you’re off the hook on helping me with the chicken coop on Saturday. Throwin’ a pre-Thanksgiving barbecue.”

“Great,” Javi tried to usher Chucho back toward the door.

Chucho complied but not without his own ace up his sleeve, “bring the girl that’s put’ya in such a stellar mood. And before you say no, I’ll make you fix the coop by yourself if you don’t.”

“She’s kind of busy on the weekends,”

“Figure it out, son.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying not to focus too much on all the things you thought were out of place. You knew in actuality they weren’t. It was your brain nitpicking. And for what? It wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d be seeing you. And clothed no less! Four months of near constant sex over the weekends mixed with long weekdays of enduring solitude and loneliness. But since Javi had brought up the idea of an actual date, there’d been two sides of you tugging against each other. The one side that was excited to see what this meant in terms of what was happening between you two. You hadn’t thrown dating seriously off the table completely, you just didn’t think you’d do that with him. Which is exactly where the other half of you stepped in. The half that was sure Javi wasn’t the person to get serious with. Keep him under the cloak of darkness.

And life had given you unexpected time to dwell on it. Because after it was floated as an idea you had a buffer week of you being busy with Halloween plans. And then the following week Lily was home from school with the flu. The week after that, you’d picked up the nasty bug courtesy of her. By that point, Javi realized waiting for a free weekend from you was costing him more time – at least as a date went. He still got to see you those nights for sex. So he pitched a weeknight date. After work, drop the muñequita off with your mom, and he’d pick you up from there.

“He’s here!” Your mom called out from the other room. You gave yourself one more parting glance before exiting the bathroom. “Why are his pants so tight?”

“Mom,” you tilted your head to the side and complained. It was giving you flashbacks from high school. Back when she’d interrogate your suitors like you assumed a father would, had yours stuck around. But that was all you managed to say before you kissed the head of your little angel who was busying herself with a coloring book. “I won’t be back too late. Probably ten or so,”

She nodded and waved her hand at you. Don’t worry about it. Go have yourself a fun night. And with one last grateful smile at her, you pulled the front door open and slipped out of it just in time to intercept Javi as he was coming up the driveway. He looked just as good as ever. Almost made you sad you’d be in public tonight. And though he looked the same, he was holding a small bouquet of flowers in front of him, and that was new. A little more thoughtful than most gestures from him.

“You look great,” he smiled and leaned in for an immediate kiss. 

You reciprocated instantly, feeling an innate sense that your mom was most definitely looking out the front window, watching you. So you pulled away and looked down at your outfit after a quick, chaste peck. “Yeah? Are those for me?”

“Yeah,” he grinned and handed the bouquet over.

You fondled the delicate petals before burying your nose in them. A surprisingly nice scent, and also surprisingly, not some filler flower. You wouldn’t have expected a guy like him to have good taste. “Let me put these inside. I’ll be right out, then we can go,”

He nodded though you’d already turned away from him, heading back for the house. And seeing as though it wasn’t at all an invitation, Javi stood in place and looked around awkwardly, pushing his hands into his pockets, awaiting your return.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

If there was any part of you that thought the awkwardness would dissipate once at dinner, you were sorely, sorely mistaken. It all remained as if both of you were unsure of who the other person was, what the intention was… and you knew he was picking up on it, too. The way his cheeks grew red whenever he accidentally interrupted you. The way that redness progressed to his ears when he said something that might’ve been a little off-color given your date taking place in what could be described as Laredo’s nicest restaurant.

You’d run the gamut of small talk. Things that were absolutely asinine given the fact that he’d already been inside you. How was the muñequita doing? How was work? What’d you study in school? You figured driving your fork into your eyeballs would’ve been less painful. The wine he ordered hadn’t helped either. And just when you started to think there wasn’t anything here other than a sexual connection between you, the waiter dropped an unexpected dessert on the table between you. A small piece of chocolate cake, garnished with fudge and raspberries. You didn’t know it at the time, but that cake was your saving grace. Whether it was the chocolate, the raspberries, the fact that it was a giant plate of aphrodisiacs, or if Javi just got it in his head that what was happening was ridiculous, he finally spoke up.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

You choked on a raspberry and looked up at him. It wasn’t accusatory. More of just a statement acutely aware of the situation. And it lifted a massive weight off your shoulders and chest. “It’s weird, right?”

He shoved another forkful of cake into his mouth, “we’re so good at fucking, how can we be so bad at this?”

“We should be good at this!”

“We should be great at this!” He agreed, setting his fork down on the plate, effectively leaving the rest to you.

“So make it better,”

And that made Javi smile. The smile you were used to seeing. The one that was way too charming for his own good. Way too charming for your own good. He reached out across the table, palm upright. It struck you as odd that despite having gone through the entire meal, this was the first time he was making an effort at physical contact. Feeling like this might be the last thing you both needed to be at complete ease, you wasted no time in resting your hand in his, fingers intertwining and squeezing together.

“Maybe we should actually get to know each other. I mean, about things other than what gets you off,” he smirked and you sensed the real, true Javi coming back to you. “What’s your story? No one chooses Laredo just because,”

You nodded and set your fork down, buying yourself a little bit of time. You knew this story would require you to bring up your daughter’s father, but you also knew that if you expected him to be forthcoming with the questions you were bound to ask, you’d need to give him something. Like this. 

“My ex, but then boyfriend, got a job in town and I thought we were in love. Because I’m an idiot. So I followed him out here. And about three months later, I’m knocked up, trying to get him to not be an asshole and failing. And the muñequita, as you like to call her, was about a month old when a judge told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t enough to raise a child. That she would do best in proximity to her father. What that judge knew and didn’t care to take into consideration with his final decision, was that her father’s not actually a good person. While he hasn’t ever laid a hand on her, the same can’t be said for his hands on me.” As the words came out of your mouth, they sounded so foreign to you. They were said with such little emotion. So matter of fact. You’d already cried all the tears you had to offer. They hadn’t done you any good back then and they wouldn’t do you any good now. “So I’m stuck in Laredo for a while. Until he proves to be even more of an asshole than he already is. Or until she turns eighteen.

“It’s not all that bad,” you smiled. “I mean it’s not great, but there are upsides. My mom moved from Corpus Christi to be closer and help. So I see her more now than I ever did in San Antonio. And I like my job, clerking. Probably would’ve never got the chance to do it in a bigger city. And honestly… I love your dad.”

“There’s no way my dad’s your plus to Laredo,” Javier grinned, a blush rising in his cheeks.

You giggled and nodded, wrapping your other hand around his so now it was fully encompassed in your grip. “He is. He’s the type of dad I wish I had. The type of dad I wish my daughter had,” you caught Javi’s glance and squeezed his hand. “You know he stands up for me when I’m at the bar? He stands up for all the girls, but I like to think he likes me most,”

“You’re certainly the only one he calls chiquita,”

“He’s a good man,”

Javi leaned back in his chair with a whistle through his teeth. “Then you’ll be glad to know you’re invited to his Thanksgiving barbecue this Saturday. And you don’t have the option to decline, unfortunately. Mostly because you declining means I have to do ranch work.”

“Back up. Explain, Peña,” you released his hand and grabbed your wine glass for a long sip. Chances were you weren’t drunk enough for this.

“He’s throwing a barbecue and insisted I bring the woman I’ve been seeing. Been wondering why I don’t go to the bar with him anymore. Never answer his calls on this weekends. Saw me all fixed up tonight before I went to pick you up. Figured I must shacked up with someone. So… I’m so glad you love him because you have to go,” 

“You know I work weekends,”

“It’s during the day,”

You pursed your lips together, squinting as if weighing your options, “I’ll go if you answer one question,” you smirked. This was your moment to get the answer to the question you’d been asking him for months. “Why’d you leave Colombia?”

Javi’s eyes quickly averted back to the half-eaten dessert between you two. He cleared his throat and pressed his forearms on the table to drag himself more upright. Closer to you now, using it to be able to keep his voice low, lest nosy locals be around. He gave you more of an answer than you ever expected him to. He told you all about Pablo Escobar and the others that made up the Medellín cartel. He gave you details about the violence they were capable of. He explained the delicate spider web of egos that made up the DEA, cartel, and communist guerillas. And how any little fracture or splinter to the egos of the drug lords or communists meant that his life and the lives of other agents were at greater risk. And he gave you all of that explanation and backstory before he got to answering your question. About how he’d skirted around laws to rally the guerillas into an unrestrainable and unmanageable murderous vigilante group, Los Pepes. And then how he flat out ignored the laws and the ambassador. How Los Pepes was a little too good at their job. How he, and the DEA, and CIA knew he’d gotten in way too far over his head and one day they’d be coming after him. And suddenly the thing he’d worked years for – the thing they were so close to he could taste it – was stripped away from him. Catching Pablo Escobar would be someone else’s headline.

And you wanted to… cry for him. For the pain he’d endured, physically and otherwise. For the things he had to witness, whether he’d signed up for it or not. For all the things he’d worked so hard for in his career and would never get the chance to see through. You figured it was where he put all his love. All the genuine love and care that he hadn’t been able to give to a romantic partner, he’d given to his work.

So that’s why how ended up here. Walking up the drive to Chucho’s long, one story ranch house. One hand clutching Javi’s and the other holding that of your daughter’s. Bringing her along hadn’t been the original plan. Hadn’t even been in your wildest dreams until your mom called the afternoon before and said she was going back home, to Corpus Christi, to visit her sister who’d taken a fall. She didn’t want to leave you in a bind… didn’t want you to have to rely on your baby daddy more… but she had to go. And you knew you were already going to have to pawn her off on her dad tonight while you were at The Tack Room, so wanting to limit her time with him as much as possible, you asked Javi if she could come along. Actually, you sprung it on him as he was standing at your front door. Pouted your lips and batted your biggest, saddest eyes at him, hoping it’d be enough to convince him. What you didn’t know was that he didn't need to be convinced. All you had to do was say the word and you’d get whatever you wanted. No questions asked.

Javier wondered what his dad would say when he saw you walk into the backyard with him. And what he’d think about your daughter tagging along. Figured he’d get a good laugh out of it. Out of his son being father-like. Gentle to a little girl that wasn’t his. Javier hoped part of his dad would be proud. He’d prepared himself that this would be your launch to his dad and a few of his friends. What he hadn’t been prepared for was that it’d be your launch to practically everyone in the neighborhood. He heard the Spanish music first; so loud on the radio that he figured the speakers were straining beneath the reverberation. Beneath the guitar and lyrics was the hum of chatter of the neighbors. Some he could point out definitively as he opened up the side gate and escorted you and the muñequita into the yard. Miss Rosalia and her uninhibited, thundering laugh. She was almost as old as Chucho and had spent many nights in her younger years watching over Javi until he was old enough to look after himself. Pancho’s grandkids – Lily and Jason – their high pitched squeals of delight. Which meant their parents, Pancho’s daughter Maria and her gringo husband Michael were surely around too. Yet through all the noise and the mass of people in the yard, Javier found the sight of his father at first glance. On the patio, cowboy hat low on his head, glasses even lower down the bridge of his nose, popping the caps off a couple Modelos.

It was like they were magnets attuned to each other because no sooner than you followed Javi’s gaze toward his father, you found that Chucho was already looking back at the both of you. And before you knew it, Javi was tugging your hand forward, taking you in tow with him. Weaving through the partygoers, you garnered looks from the majority of them… mostly the women, whose eyes seemed to flick between you and Javier and back. As if attempting to figure out what made you so special. And what they didn’t know was that it wasn’t Javi that made you special. It was his father.

“Hola chiquita,”

A beam broke out over your face, “hola Chucho,”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then affectionately, looked down. “Quién es este?”

You looked down at your daughter and mentioned her name. Over your shoulder, you could feel Javier’s eyes on her, too. 

Chucho smiled and tilted his hat back, away from his face as he crouched down with a gentle smile, “hola chiquitita,” he held his hand out to her and she shook it.

“Javi calls her muñequita,”

On instinct, Chucho’s eyes flicked back up to his son, “does he now?” And finding Javier’s sheepish expression more than prize enough, Chucho looked back down in front of him, “muñequita, do you want some lemonade?” Off her eager nod, he nodded his head off to the side, “vamos.”

Once you were left alone with Javi again, you looked up at him. His expression still harboring the pink hue of embarrassment. You curled yourself into his side, practically forcing his arm to wrap around you while you set a hand on his stomach. He looked down at you and squeezed your shoulder.

“Good?” He murmured.

“We’re getting a lot of looks,” you let your eyes drift over the crowd only momentarily. Then back up at him.

“Let ‘em look, querida,” he hummed, lowering himself down to crowd your space. And with lips hovering over yours, “let’s make ‘em jealous.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Javier kept his hand tightly clutched around the muñequita’s as he helped her climb over the two by four protruding from the ground and leading into the chicken coop. She was a little unsteady and gripping his hand nearly as tight as he was gripping hers.

“Careful,” he cautioned softly, “the chicken wire is sharp.”

She looked at her other hand, the one clutched around the hexagonal openings in the wired door. After taking a moment to process, she uncurled her fingers from it and held it out to the side for balance. Javi shut the door behind them once they were in, and he knelt down to fit inside the enclosure.

“Chickies!” the muñequita shrieked at the top of her lungs. To Javier’s surprise, she didn’t seem scared of them at all despite their erratic motion. “This a boy?”

He followed the direction of her pointed finger – to a large, speckled chicken pecking at the ground. He rested a forearm over his bent knee, settling his other hand on his opposite thigh. “These are all girls. You have to keep the boys and the girls separate,”

Only half-paying attention, she reached out to touch it, only to become startled when it flapped its wings. The whooshing sent her hair blowing back and she ran back to Javi, tucking herself into him. Her back pressed up against his chest and her tiny hands on his knee. “Why?”

“‘Cause they’ll…” he stopped himself and curled his arm around her protectively when another of the chickens let out an ear-piercing string of clucks. “Sometimes the boys annoy the girls,”

From your vantage point at one of the tables on the patio, you watched the whole thing unfold in the chicken coop. The way he remained attentive to her the entire time. To how she ran to him after being frightened. And how he went to shield her from harm. Originally you’d thought the hardest thing about today would be dodging all the bitter glances from the women. Turned out the hardest thing about today was fighting the feeling of love that was growing inside you.

And then Chucho appeared beside you, taking a seat and sliding a plate of food over to you. He followed your gaze out to the chicken coop and took a sip from his beer bottle. “He’s good with her,”

You felt your face grow warmer and you decided to cover it up by reaching forward to dip a tortilla chip into some homemade guacamole. “She really likes him,” then pushing the chip into your mouth, “but what’s not to like? You raised a good boy,”

“He’s an asshole,” Chucho grinned. It made you giggle, too. “When did this start up?”

To even your surprise, you told him the absolute truth. Minus all the juicy details about the sex life you shared with his son. But about the day you first met him. And how he’d come visit you at The Tack Room as long as his dad wasn’t there. Chucho scoffed at that. But he softened again when you recounted your first actual date with Javi, and how he’d finally managed to open up about Colombia. As you ended the explanation, you started to feel sort of odd about opening up to him in this way not even knowing how much his own son had told him. Apparently not much.

“He’s treatin’ you well?” Chucho’s gaze drifted back to the chicken coop, where Javi was exiting, this time holding the muñequita. His forearm beneath her legs and her arms around his neck. “I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,”

“I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,”

A fleeting smile passed over Chucho’s face. Now Javi was on his way back to the patio. “This ain’t a knock against my son. Javier does his best. But you protect yourself… your heart, I mean. ‘Cause my son’s been known to break ‘em.” Chucho stood up, “got a mind of his own, that one. And sometimes it don’t work too good,”

It was then you looked back up at Javier just as he was setting your daughter down on her feet. She was squirming in his arms, anxious to be set free as Pancho’s grandkids came up and asked if she wanted to play tag with them. Could that be the same man Chucho was warning you about? In the back of your mind you knew it was. Women throughout Laredo could testify to it. But when he fell back in step toward the patio and caught your gaze, the smile that erupted over his face made you think that it was different now. Then it made you think that you were foolish. Who were you to change a man’s behavior? Shit. You hadn’t even able to get your ex to become decent enough to help pay for his kid. 

There was no hidden agenda to your next move. No secret plan to get him alone. Just the discomfort rising in your throat that he might catch on that you were back in your head again. And god forbid you both endure any amount of returned awkwardness like that of the date. So you gathered the empty beer bottles and plastic plates on the table; using the skills practiced to perfection from work, and carried on in through the back door to dispose of them. Perhaps you should’ve asked Chucho, or even Javi, before entering the house. No one had asked you to do so, and you wondered if it was off limits as you carried on into the kitchen. Just outside the window by the sink, you could see the party carrying on, oblivious to your new absence.

But the back door reopened and you looked up at the newcomer, ready to apologize for intruding. But you quickly found it was only Javier. He rounded the counter to approach you; a cheeky grin on his face that he’d finally done it. He’d gotten you alone. And that smile… it got you thinking again that it was different.

“You come to help me tidy up?” You give a smirk of your own knowing fully well he hadn’t. That was surely the last thing on his mind. Proven by the way he slid up behind your and wrapped his arms around your waist; hands wrapping around you and pulling you back into his body. Your ass brushed along the outline of his cock and it had you turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him. A disapproving shake of the head. “Javi,”

He tucked his face into your neck and kissed it, grazing his teeth gently across your skin. His hands squeezed your hips, holding you tighter to his body despite your futile opposition. Opposition which ultimately looked like you tilting your head to the side to allow him more space with your neck.

“What if your dad comes in?” Your eyes drifted shut. As if the question would make it come true, you didn’t want to bear witness to it.

“Why would he come in?”

“‘Cause it’s his–”

He cut you off by sliding one of his hands down from your hip and undid the button of your jeans with a quick flick of his fingers. And his hand was beneath the denim before you’d even had a chance to protest. Deft fingers curled along the cotton fabric of your underwear. Just a whisper of a touch over your clit. You thought about resting your head back on Javi’s shoulder, but just before you could, he bumped his chest against your back to get your attention.

“Look,” he commanded and waited a second to give you time to obey him. Which you did on impulse. Javi had leaned forward, his cheek close to yours, both looking out over the bay window behind the kitchen sink, overlooking the backyard. “Anyone could see us right now,” he whispered and nudged your underwear to the side, giving him just enough space for his fingers to resume their ministrations. You knew what he’d feel; knew that he’d soon become aware that you’d spent the better half of the barbecue uncomfortably shifting your thighs together, trying to ignore the fact that watching him with your kin was making you inexplicably aroused. That watching him play with her and hold her and bond with her was more than any man had done, including her own father. 

“Oh you like that, huh?” There was a low growl to his voice, “you like that we could get caught.”

Sure, you thought. Let’s go with that. That was the least frightening of the options. Because having to admit to Javier that it wasn’t the idea of getting caught, but the idea of him being a dad to your child that was making you wet seemed far too vulnerable for your current position. 

His fingers followed your slit from your clit to your entrance and pressed inside you without hesitation. A slow, lingering gasp left your parted lips and you melted back into Javi’s body, using him as the sole form of support in keeping you upright. His lips met your jawline and you could swear you felt them pull into a smile when your anatomy clenched around his fingers.

You shifted your body down on his fingers, “Javi,”

He grinned wider, a shit-eating one he knew you would’ve slapped off his face had you seen it, “I know, querida.” His fingers thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

You could feel yourself there on the edge having had more than enough time for the anticipation to build throughout the day. Ready to fall in any capacity he would allow you to. Whether that just meant here, in Chucho’s kitchen, muffled by the obscene sounds his fingers were making inside you. Or if it meant being able to say the words that were right there at the tip of your tongue.

“Javi?”

Your eyes flashed open at the sound of Chucho’s voice. Through the kitchen window, you could see he was still out in the yard, not quite at the patio but making his way there. Beginning to strain in Javier’s arms, he moved the hand at your waist and cupped it around your neck.

“Peña,” you tugged at his wrist but it was a fruitless effort.

“Javier?” Chucho called again, stepping into the shade of the patio awning, into full view of the kitchen window.

Javi kept his eyes glued to you. His hand gained a tighter grip around your neck, and his fingers thrust up into you to the last knuckle  “come for me.”

“Javi,” you moaned and hated the way it came out like it did. You wanted to be strong. Be firm and protest. And yet… 

Javier curled his fingers inside you, against the spongy front wall of your wall, “come,” he growled into your ear, lips pressed against the soft skin there.

If there had been an ounce of willpower within you, you would’ve stopped yourself. Pulled yourself together and shook yourself out of his grasp. But there was no willpower. No way to keep yourself afloat. He commanded and you obeyed. Legs shook until your knees gave out and Javi ws forced to release your neck so he could wrap that strong arm around your waist and keep you on your feet. You came over his fingers and felt it drip down the inside of your thighs. And it hadn’t ended the way you would’ve hoped. No moment of calmness to gather yourself back together. No gentle kiss or a good girl. Just Javi pulling his fingers out of you and removing his hand from your pants. He licked one clean and then wiped them dry on the back of his jeans, already making his way back to the door to intercept his dad.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

You ran up the walkway to your front door, keys in hand, keenly aware that Javi was coming up the path behind you, the muñequita cradled in his arms. She had fallen asleep on the drive over but could hear her grumbling behind you, being awoken. By the sound of it, she was less than happy about it, despite Javier trying to soothe her, and you knew you’d have a hell of a time trying to get her back out of the house and to her dad’s before your shift started.

Flying through the front door and leaving it open behind you, you ran down the hallway and into your bedroom to get changed. The jeans from earlier would suffice, and after slipping into the white tank top that made up your “uniform”, you ran back down the hallway. “Javi, can you help her get her shoes back on? The slip-on ones by the door are fine!”

You ran into the kitchen and rummaged through it for something quick and easy she could snack on for when she woke up inevitably starving and throwing a fit. Some string cheese, applesauce, a juice box… and then you ran back toward the front door and came to a skidding halt when you passed by the living room and saw absolutely no progress being made. 

Progress was the furthest thing from happening. To call this progress would’ve been more than generous. What it was, was Javi sat back on the couch, reclined deep in the seat at an almost unnatural position. The muñequita on her side on top of him; cheek squished to his chest, her knees curled up and her feet settling in his lap. She was already back asleep and looked… absolutely peaceful.

“Javi,” you protested, coming into the room and reaching for her.

But Javier lifted his arms and wrapped them around her protectively, shielding her from disruption. 

“I have to go to work,”

“I know, but look… she’s comfortable,” he patted his hand down against her back softly.

“I have to drop her off with her dad,” you reached for her again, and this time Javi shifted his entire body. “Peña, come on, I’m gonna be late.”

And then the words came out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure where they had come from. You didn’t know either. And he wondered if he was crossing a boundary. “I can watch her,” he met your eyes and to both of your surprise, he looked genuine. “She’s had a long day. It’s easier if she stays here.” And then off your movement of putting your hands on your hips and cocking your head to the side, “I’ll make her dinner when she wakes up. Get her ready for bed,”

“Javi,”

“I can take care of her,” he insisted. “Trust me?”

Though you hadn’t been given many reasons to trust men in the past, you did undeniably trust him. You’d come to know that what he told you the day he met you, was true. I’m the best thing that could’ve walked into your daughter’s life. So you rounded to the side of the couch and bent forward. A chaste kiss to the lips while he held your reason for living was proof enough that you trusted him. You knew that there was probably no place in the world she was safer than with DEA Agent, Javier Peña.

As you carried on to The Tack Room, you wondered if you’d ever hear about what went on while you were away. You wondered how Javi would answer you when you asked how it went. You figured he’d downplay it. Say it was fine. Everything went great. That the muñequita was a perfect angel. You doubted you’d ever hear about the minutiae that made up the hours they had together.

You’d never actually hear about how she did indeed wake up with a fury and a hungry stomach. And the way Javi cut up an apple and scooped some peanut butter into a small bowl for her. Or how he rummaged through the cabinets until he came upon a box of Kraft macaroni. You’d never hear about how they sat side by side at the kitchen table, hunched over their own bowls, and devoured the unnaturally orange pasta. He’d never tell you about how he helped her pick out her pajamas and then waited in the hallway outside her door until she got herself changed. How when she called him back, he found that she’d put her shirt on backwards, and how they’d created a game to get her to slip her arms out of the sleeves and spin the top around until it faced the right way without having to take it off. And surely he’d go to the grave about how she batted those pretty please eyelashes at him – the same ones you gave him when you asked him to get the Halloween decorations from the attic – and finagled her way into staying up past her bedtime in order to play Pretty, Pretty Princess. How he let her adorn him with plastic necklaces and rings. And even plastic, clip-on earrings. But of course she won and was the only one to get the bejeweled crown. He’d also never admit how late it was by the time he finally got her to go back to sleep. How he’d kind of bribed her with some chocolate chip cookies, or how he sat on the floor by her bed and patted her back for far longer than was probably necessary before she drifted off to sleep and he was able to tiptoe out of her room. He’d never admit that because it was a little more than an hour before you were unlocking the front door and slipping back inside after your shift.

The TV was on. The news. For some reason, you didn’t think Javier was one to watch the news. His head rested on his fist, feet up on the coffee table. He was awake but his blinks were getting longer and longer. When he finally noticed you in the threshold, he sparked up and lifted his head. Lowered his feet to the ground as if you finding them on the coffee table would make you think he’d made himself too comfortable.

“Querida,” he smiled and stood from the couch, making a quick move toward you.

“The house didn’t burn down,” you mocked lightly and wrapped your arms around him when he came into your space. His lips met yours quickly before trailing down to your jaw and neck. His laugh was muffled by his mouth being pressed to your skin. You lifted one hand up to the back of his head and stroked your fingers through his hair. “How’d it go?”

“Easy,” he lifted his head and smiled, “she’s a good kid.”

You smiled and brought your hand up to his mouth, trailing your index finger over his bottom lip. “I didn’t  thank you before,”

“You don’t need to th–”

Before he could finish, you fully cupped your hand over his mouth to get him to stop speaking. “No I do, because not having to leave her with her dad tonight lifted a tremendous weight off my shoulders.” You removed your palm from his mouth and hooked your arms over his shoulders. “And I love” you noted how Javi’s eyes seemed to widen a bit at the use of the word, “that she feels safe with you.”

“I just–”

You pressed your index finger to his lips again to stop him. “Shh, nope. Just… take that, and…” you took a deep breath in. A new smile spread across your lips, “I’d really like to give you a blowjob now, so we should go do that.”

“Whatever you say, querida.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

“This mouth,” Javier groaned, staring down at you, knelt over on the mattress while he stood beside the bed. He lowered a hand to your cheek and brushed the backs of his fingers over it. Meanwhile, your mouth was giving a valiant effort at making him come undone. “I love this mouth,”

A hum floated out of your lungs and up past your vocal chords. Lips that had been brought up to the head of his cock, wrapped tightly around the crown, pressed forth once again until your nose brushed against his waist. Judging by the breath that choked in Javi’s throat, you knew he wasn’t lying. His hand migrated from your cheek to the back of your head, where he gathered your hair into a ponytail and held it away for your face. For more of a better view of the thing he knew would be his undoing.

With the leverage of the ponytail, he guided your mouth along his shaft. The power out of your hands, you hollowed your cheeks and closed your eyes, completely focused on the pressure you applied to his member with your lips and tongue. Forced yourself to swallow back the gagging that nearly consumed you when he pushed himself down your throat. And when you re-opened your eyes, blinking back tears, the fondness you found within Javier’s gaze was something new. If your mouth hadn’t been full, maybe you would’ve mentioned something about it to him. Asked him where this new perceived fondness was coming from. It couldn’t have been the blowjob. You’d given him plenty before. And perhaps even more enthusiastic head before. But something about this in this moment warranted a new look from him and you weren’t given the time to ponder it. To try and get to the bottom of it. 

After you noticed the look, Javier was easing your mouth off of him; relishing in the way your lips tried to hold onto him tighter. To keep him in your mouth. But he was stronger, and no sooner than he was freed from your mouth, he bent over and pressed a kiss to your lips. His tongue pushed into your mouth without hesitation. There were things you wanted to voice and bring light to. Things on the tip of your tongue that you thought might be worth throwing caution to the wind. Things you were sure would be met and reciprocated and yet…

“Peña,” you murmured in between kisses and felt his lips tighten into a smile against yours.

He backed away from you, a coy smirk on his face, “what, querida?”

“Do you like me?”

Javier rolled his eyes, affixed his hands to your shoulders and pushed you around until you relented and continued on with his gesture. His tongue darted out over his lips when you’d finished the motion, now finding your ass toward him. “No, I hate you,”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back over your shoulder, but Javi just grinned harder and pressed his hand on your upper back, pushing you down to the bed. “I’m serious, Javi,”

“Me too,” he ran his fingers over your entrance once before placing them on his shaft and notching himself at your core. 

You opened your mouth again to protest but he pressed in, bottoming out in one fell swoop that your protest came in the way of a needy moan. Your fists closed around the bedsheets. His girth stretching you out almost uncomfortably, had it not been for the way he also bent over you. His knees now pressed on the mattress, his chest against your back, and his lips at your ear. Kisses trailed from your earlobe down to your neck and shoulder. Powerful thrusts left you gasping for air.

“Hate that you got me wrapped ‘round your finger,” he mumbled against your skin, teeth nipping at any flesh they could. He pushed himself in rougher, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. “Hate that you know it,”

“Got’cha,”

Javi quickly pulled out of you and pressed on your hip until you rolled over onto your back. Staring up at him once again, you noticed that look of fondness hadn’t left his face. Whatever he might be saying about the “hate”, it didn’t live in his soul. Hell, it barely even lived in the words. He eased back into you, gentler this time, looking right in your eyes, taking it all in. Wholly focused on the way your jaw fell slack when he pressed into you to the hilt again. He brought his hand to your open mouth and dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. Soon replaced it with his lips for a kiss; slow, passionate, tender. And his hips followed suit. Thrusts much slower but not any less deep or forceful. He kept you connected for as long as possible.

“What the fuck are you doin’ to me?” He whispered.

You let out an airy moan and followed it up with another smirk, “making you come.”

He shook his head. His languid movements now made for the perfect position for his member to rub against your gspot, and his waist where you were connected rubbed against your clit. “What’re you doing to me in here,” he pressed his index finger to his forehead. Your smile faded for something else when he moved that finger down to his chest, “and here.”

You pouted your lips and furrowed your eyebrows, trying not to let that get you too emotional. He’d only half-expressed what you thought he wanted to. What you wanted to. But staring him in the eyes wasn’t doing much for your composure. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him forward, you kissed him again and hoped it would get you back in this moment – this sexual moment – without the threat of love dipping off your tongue.

The kisses were endless. Whether it was to your lips, jaw, neck, or chest, Javi didn’t let a moment go by without his lips adorning your skin with some form of attention. And when you both came – one after the another, but you first – you held onto him tightly. Fingernails digging into his shoulder blades and scratching downward. If you couldn’t say the words to make him yours, you’d certainly leave a mark to do so.

“Shit,” Javi grumbled, feeling himself throb inside you.

You smiled to yourself and scritched your fingers through his hair. The stickiness between your legs increased as he pulled out of you and your shared spend dripped out of your core. Once he was completely unsheathed from you, Javi rolled over onto his side and stretched over to reach the nightstand. There was something endearing that he knew the drill: finish the nightly conquest. Document it with a photograph.

The camera was in your hand in the same moment you’d repositioned yourself along the pillows. Comfortably stretching yourself out, you knew there was a finite amount of time until you had to run to the bathroom. But Javi took the drill and altered it. Usually the night ended with both of you trading off, taking pictures of each other. But this time, Javi curled into your side, wrapped his arm over your hips, and buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Javi, I have to get up to take it,” you tilted your head toward his in an effort to shrink away from him. But he only held on tighter. His grip around your hips more possessive. A playful nip landed at your jugular.

“Take it like this,”

There it was. The words at the tip of your tongue again. Love. Love. Love. You turned the camera around; lens facing you. For the first time both Javi’s and your face in frame. Together. No chance at hiding identities. Your finger froze at the top of the camera. Perhaps to give him one last chance to change his mind. To come to his senses and tell you to wait… that he’d get up and take a picture of you first. But an interjection didn’t come. He didn’t try to stop you. His thumb rubbed back and forth over your hip bone. His lips stayed planted to your neck. While you faced the camera full frontal, only Javi’s profile was visible. But what a profile it was – the strong, curved nose, the sharp jawline… 

You snapped the picture and freed it from the camera after it printed. Javi took the camera from you again and set it back down on the nightstand before returning to the spot he had previously been in. A soft woosh woosh woosh filled the space between as you shook the photo. Slowly the gray square turned to color and brought forth the image. The first of its kind. Javi turned his head away from your neck in order to look at it. A quick smile passed his lips.

“That’s a pretty picture of you,”

You cringed at the photo and slapped it down on your chest to hide it. “I hate my neck,”

Javi furrowed his eyebrows, “what’re you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist to sneak a glance at the picture again. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you were seeing in the photo to make such a comment. “I love your neck,” he leaned back in and bit your neck. This time a little harder than before.

And it made you shriek. A delighted, high pitched thing that nearly made you forget the qualm you’d had with the picture in the first place.