#daddy galindo

[berberriescorner]

I have like ten wips…

Why do I do this to myself😩? There are a ton of ideas I haven't even put to paper yet.

They’re just living rent free in my head🤦🏾‍♀️.

You know how hard it is to be both a book/fic nerd and a writer?!

I just want to read my pretty books and read/write my lovely fics without falling asleep in the midst of it😆😂🤣. It would also be nice to not feel crappy as well.

We shall ignore and keep pushing.*sighs and giggles.*

I'm all over the place today.

#chronicillnessgirlieprobs🤷🏾‍♀️

[roses-styles-books]

He’s so hot in season 3 I am dying 😭🔥

[soft-mafia]

Very Wrong Place, and VERY Wrong Time

warnings: nsfw, oc insert, fem reader, smut, VERY risky sex, established relationship, fingering, daddy kink, Buggy detaching his dick, kind of short, not really proof read

a/n: I’m backkkk I’ve finally came out of hibernation and burnout and I decided to whip up sometime spicy

Buggy still couldn’t believe that Y/n was on a lower level than he was. I mean, he was glad he hadn’t been freezing his butt off in level 5, but how was his girlfriend’s bounty higher than his?! What the hell did she even do?! It wasn’t fair, and frankly, emasculating. That all wouldn’t matter though as soon as they got out of here. Buggy was running up the staircase to level 2, with Y/n, and Mr. 3 in tow.

Galdino had to make one of his wax boxes for them to hide in until all of the beasts cleared out of the way.. which proved to be longer than initially thought. “Why the hell are they just sitting around?!” Buggy growled in a whisper, looking through a little peep hole. “We can wait until they’re asleep, then we can run.” Y/n suggested. “No way. That’s too risky, they’d wake up to a pin drop there’s no way all three of us are getting past them.” Mr. 3 replied.

“I can fight them off. I can keep them distracted while you two can run-” Y/n started, but Buggy quickly interjected.

“WHAT?! There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do that!” He growled, looking down at her. She furrowed her brows and squinted at him, “‘Letting’ me?”

He pressed his lips together, breaking a nervous sweat before looking back out through the peep hole, “Uh— let’s just wait for them to go away. There’s no harm in waiting, all of the guards are busy somewhere else anyway..” he gulped. Y/n sighed and leaned against the wax wall.

They had been sitting there for what seemed like forever. Galdino had taken a nap, Buggy was leaned against the wall, and Y/n rested on his chest, nestled between his legs. One hand rested on her waist while the other was gently brushing his fingers back and forth on her cheek, occasionally messing with her hair. It felt so nice to hold her in his arms after all of this mess, to have her cuddled up to him like the old times.

She moved her head up to rest against the crook of his neck, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. He swallowed quietly, perhaps he was a little pent up from being in this prison, or a bit frustrated from all of the bullshit he had to go through, but the way Y/n was rubbing up on him right now was making him antsy. He gently put his hand on her jaw and tilted her head up, placing a kiss on her lips, it was such a relief, like getting a sip of cold, fresh water after a good run. She looked up at him with her big eyes. “You ok, baby?” He asked quietly, softly, his words ghosting against her lips.

“Yeah.” She whispered back at him, hands moving up to hold his shoulders. “You’re so warm. I haven’t held you like this in so long..” He chuckled quietly, giving her another kiss, holding her jaw, his other hand moves lower down her body, down her hip, fingers moving into the hem of her pants, “Captain- not here.” Y/n whispered, looking over to where Galindo was napping. “Come on he’s sleeping!!” Buggy hissed, “Just a quickie, please!” He squeezed her hip, a pleading look in his eye.

“F-Fine.” Y/n bit her lip, moving back to straddle Buggy’s lap, she kissed Buggy’s bottom lip then looked back up at him, “Let’s hope he’s a heavy sleeper.”

Buggy grinned before pulling her in for a sloppy kiss, “Oh Y/n, you beautiful, beautiful girl.” He whispered, pulling her pants down below her hips along with her panties, “Be quiet for me?” He smirked. Y/n nodded and bit her bottom lip, watching Buggy detach his hand so his fingers could toy with her clit easily, she buried her face into his neck again to stifle her moans, whimpering against his skin, making him shutter and let out a soft breath, “Atta girl.” He kissed the side of her head, moving his fingers back and forth, his palm cupping over her pussy as he got her clit nice and wet, “Yeah, I know you’ve missed me.” He smirked, gently slapping her ass with his free hand, then rubbing soft circles around the area.

“Look at how wet you are for me, such a little slut, ready for my cock huh?” He teased, whispering in her ear as he continued to toy with her clit. Y/n let out a muffled whimper while grinding against Buggy’s finger, her hips moving on their own to get more pleasure, twitching and trembling. Buggy’s free hand moved to pull the hem of his pants down, low enough to where he could free his hard, throbbing cock, his thick blue pubic hair was a fluffy mess, “Gotta stay quiet for me, ok?” Buggy whispered to her again, before slowly guiding her hips onto his member.

Y/n had to squeeze her hand over her mouth to stifle her noises, his cock was thick, it had been so long since he’s fucked her she’s forgotten how girthy he was. Buggy grunted softly under his breath at the way she clenched around him on impact, “Shhh shh, relax.” He whispered, rubbing her back gently with one hand as he slowly eased her down to the base with the other, “There we go.” He grunted, then swiftly pulled Y/n’s hand away from her mouth so he could replace it with his lips.

As he moved her up and down on his cock, silently yet rhythmically, their lips molded together, sucking on the other like they were each other’s life support. Y/n’s hands slung around his shoulders, she moved her hips while bouncing on his cock.

He groaned quietly into the kiss, letting his penis detach so he could get deeper into her, hitting all of her sweet spots, letting her whimper into his mouth, “Fuck I missed this.” He growled into the kiss, giving her ass another gently slap, gripping onto her hips as he thrusted his cock deeper into her. “Ah..~ Captain..” Y/n moaned, their eyes locked for a moment before their lips locked again. Buggy had to make sure to keep her quiet, to make sure they could get away with this for as long as possible, but to also hurry it up to save himself from the embarrassment. His new friend wasn’t going to be napping forever, after all.

Buggy groaned, letting Y/n rest her head against his chest to stifle her noises while he leaned his head back and grit his teeth, picking up his speed, perfectly concealed within Y/n’s walls whenever he would thrust deep. He kept her steady, feeling her trembling and twitching beneath his grasp just urged him to keep going, the feeling of her trembling on his cock made him go crazy, closer to orgasm. “Captain.. I-I’m gonna cum.” She whispered breathily.

“Do it.” Buggy growled softly, commanding her to spill her juices on him, even though he loved her to bits, he was still her captain. Y/n arched her back, biting down on her bottom lip as she came, her walls clenching and fluttering around him, a sweet feeling between her legs as her pussy squeezed around his fat cock. Buggy smirked, that helpless look of orgasm on her face made him feel pride, he was really the only man who can ever see Y/n like this after all.

“That’s my girl, now let daddy do his work.” Buggy chuckled hoarsely, gripping her hips, his fingers gripping into her ass, he groaned deeply at the feeling as his cock moved in and out, he knew he had to be quick as he could hear the faint slapping noises grow louder. Y/n was still fluttering around him, still trembling on him, he grunted behind grit teeth as he tilted his head back again, beads of sweat running down his forehead and smearing his makeup.

He growled, then buried his mouth into the top of Y/n’s head to stifle a guttural grunt before releasing his thick load deep into Y/n’s pussy. They both panted heavily, Buggy was drenched in sweat and seeing stars. Y/n was leaning against him, still trembling, holding onto his slightly damp prison shirt, he smoothly pulled his cock out of Y/n and attached it back to his body, pulling up his pants shortly after. “Ahhh.. that felt so much better.” Buggy groaned, forgetting to whisper which led to Y/n quickly covering his mouth, pulling her pants up with her other hand, he did the same thing— although his hand was placed over top of Y/n’s.

“Shut up!! He’s still sleeping and we’re a fucking mess!” Y/n hissed at him, her cheeks still flushed from sex. “Sorry! Sorry!” Buggy croaked, his words muffled by her hand slapped over his mouth.

They both glanced over at Mr. 3, who was thankfully still asleep. They both sighed quietly in relief. Y/n fanned herself with her hand, “This is awful.. they had no showers here in the first place now I’m even more sticky thanks to you.” Y/n’s complaints couldn’t help but make Buggy chortle, he leaned back against the wax wall with his arms behind his head, tufts of fluffy blue pit hair peeking out from his torn sleeves, “Oh don’t be such a drama queen. I promise I’ll run you a cold little bath once we get back to the Big Top.” Y/n gently slapped him on the chest, “Put your arms down, your pits stink.” She frowned at him, putting a hand over her own face. “Don’t talk to me like that when you’re sitting there full of my cum you little brat!” Buggy snapped loudly, which earned a small groan from Galindo across the box.

Y/n and Buggy both turned to look at him with wide eyes as he stirred awake. “How long was I asleep? Are the beasts gone—“ he quickly covered his nose, “Buggy put your arms down, we’ve talked about this!!”

Buggy growled and sat up straight, “YOU GUYS ARE SERIOUSLY JERKS!!!!”

[pascalispretty]

hold me down

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: somnophilia, implied consent (they've done this before), fingering, prone bone, daddy kink (sue me), reader has a bit of a praise kink, D/s vibes, AU where Emily doesn't exist

Summary: You only moved in a few days ago, but Miguel is already reaping the benefits. (ao3)

A/N: whew, it's been a minute since I wrote for Miguel. That stupid final season totally zapped my desire to write for him for a good while. You can thank @misscharlielulu for sending me the gif that started this whole idea, and @loveletter444-kb for being such a supportive gem. Title is from 'hold me down' by Halsey. Tumblr ruined my gif banner, so alas it's only still images. There is a version of this story that involves anal if anybody wants it 🫣

Miguel still isn’t used to coming home and finding you in his bed.

You’ve only been living with him for a little over a week. When he comes home a little after one in the morning, he’s preoccupied. The contract for the latest land deal is on his mind, all of the tiny details that have to be tended to and carefully managed. He’s somewhere in the middle of planning the ecological survey when he steps into his bedroom and is momentarily surprised by the sight of you asleep in his bed.

Your bed too now, he supposes. He’s given you permission to change what you like in your new home, but you haven’t made any decisions yet beyond asking for a bigger closet. He wants you to feel at home here, wants to satisfy every whim you might have. Making room for a few more racks of dresses feels like a small price to pay for your contentment.

Miguel shoves the thought away from his mind, focusing his attention on you as he gets ready for bed.

You’ve rolled over onto his side of the bed in your sleep. Your face is pressed against his pillow, he notices smugly. Even in your sleep, you can’t get close enough to him. You look so peaceful, not a care showing on your pretty face as you nestle into his pillow. The bedsheets are a mess around your legs, your body not quite acclimated to the desert heat of Santo Padre yet.

Miguel strips off his three-piece suit methodically, his eyes on the rise and fall of your chest as he undresses. His clothes go into the hamper, leaving him naked. He can’t be bothered to find a pair of pyjama pants; he’d much rather feel you pressed against him.

He walks around to his side of the bed to plug his phone in, footsteps silent on the rug. You don’t stir, even as he gets closer, even when he’s standing right beside you.

It’s when he’s stood right beside you that he sees why the sheets are in such a tangle.

You’ve managed to kick them part of the way off you, but they still cling around your calves. It leaves your ass and thighs sticking out from under the covers. You couldn’t have posed for it better if you’d tried. The silky slip you wore to bed is rucked up around your hips, showing off the lacy panties you’re still wearing. He wonders if you got dressed up for him before falling asleep.

For a long moment, Miguel just looks. He’s enjoyed having you living with him for the past ten days, but it feels like the full potential is finally occurring to him.

He can enjoy you like this whenever he wants.

Nobody has to jet halfway across the country, or traipse up to a hotel room. You’re right here, exactly where he wants you. It’s the perfect remedy to such a long day.

He can only keep his hands to himself for so long. When the two of you were coping with hotel visits and brief stays, you’d often maximise the time together by waking the other up for sex. He’s lost count of the amount of times you’ve woken him up with your mouth around his cock; he’s equally beyond numbering the times he’s woken you with his fingers or his tongue (and once, so memorably, a slap).

Carefully, so you don’t stir, he sits on the end of the bed. He reaches out carefully, brushing the back of his hand so gently against the curve of your ass that he barely feels you. It does make you shift, almost imperceptibly. He does it again, your skin so warm under his fingers that he sighs.

Miguel loves you like this; soft, sleepy, malleable.

Turning his hand over, he lets his fingertips wander over your supple flesh. You make a soft, contented noise that’s half-muffled by the pillow. It makes his cock twitch, makes him hungrier for more. His fingers sweep upward, coming to rest at the juncture of your thighs.

He can’t feel you properly through the lace covering your cunt. For a moment, he lets his fingertips rest against the outline of your slit. One of your legs moves, and he waits to see if this will wake you. Instead, you just seem to be shifting, getting more comfortable. Satisfied that you’re still asleep, he lets his fingertips press a little more firmly, his index finger tracing lightly over your clit.

Miguel swallows thickly, uncomfortably aware of how hard he’s getting. With his free hand, he reaches down to adjust himself. He’s not surprised to find that he’s already half-hard. If anything, he’s surprised he’s not so stiff it hurts; not when he has you tucked up in his bed, waiting to be played with.

He moves slowly, carefully tracing and teasing at the outline of your cunt over your underwear. More soft sounds start to escape you, little hitches in your breath and quiet whimpers. Every noise goes straight to his cock. Other men wind down with alcohol; he has you to get drunk on.

It doesn’t take long before he can feel your slick starting to soak into the lace of your panties. It starts as a tiny wet spot right over your entrance and it takes all his willpower not to yank your underwear down and bury his tongue in you. Instead, he keeps playing with you, tracing firmer circles over your clit until the lace is thoroughly ruined.

Carefully, he hooks a finger around the crotch of your underwear and pulls them to one side. It gives him the barest peek at your pretty cunt. It’s enough to make his mouth water on instinct. You squirm in your sleep, and he wonders if you can feel the cooler air of the room hit your soaking folds. He lets his fingertip touch your bare flesh, shivers licking down his spine as he feels just how wet you are.

Part of him is curious about what will finally wake you up. It’s that part of him that makes him tease your entrance with his fingertip, coating his skin in your slick. You give a shuddering gasp as he slides his finger inside of you, but you still don’t wake. He moves slowly, deliberately avoiding the spot on your walls that makes you quiver when he hits it. You’re more restless with his finger inside of you, squirming at the intrusion and curling your hand in the sheets. Your hips buck a little, the sight of you trying to fuck yourself back onto his finger in your sleep making him feel like a man bewitched.

Miguel knows he’s tempting fate when he adds the second finger. He thrusts slow and deep once, twice, knuckle deep inside you when he finally hears it.

“…Miguel?”

****

It feels like you’re dreaming at first. A blissful wet dream that makes your toes curl. You’re not sure what exactly wakes you, only that you eventually become aware of two long, thick fingers carefully working inside of you.

“…Miguel?” You ask, your voice thick with sleep. It’s disorienting, waking up so agonisingly close to coming.

“Hi, baby.” His fingers don’t stop moving. If anything, he lets his fingers curl a little now he knows you’ve awoken, pressing against that spongy spot inside you. Your brain feels foggy with sleep still, miles behind your body as you abruptly crash into the pleasure of his touch.

“Daddy’s home,” whispers something deep and primal in your mind.

“Oh God, Miguel- ‘s so good,” you manage as he moves his fingers a little faster inside you, sending more heat lancing through your veins. You have no idea how long Miguel has been playing with you for, and that somehow makes it even hotter. Every thrust of his fingers makes you moan, your back arching into his touch.

“Need you to be a good girl and come for me,” he murmurs, his voice low with arousal. You do as you’re told, rocking yourself back on his fingers. It doesn’t take you long at all to tip over the edge into a blinding orgasm, one that hits you like lightning and leaves you clutching the pillow so hard your knuckles go white. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as Miguel works you through your climax, dragging it out until your legs quiver.

The loss of his fingers leaves you feeling devastatingly empty, and you whine at the feeling.

“Ya lo sé, baby.” His fingers find the waistband of your underwear, tugging them impatiently down your legs and discarding them somewhere in the room. Once they’re off, he moves you towards the middle of the bed, leaving him enough room to climb in beside you.

“Miguel-” you start, trying to turn to face him. He doesn’t let you. One of his large hands curls around your shoulder, pressing you forwards.

“You sound tired, amor,” he says, even as he rolls you onto your stomach. “Do you want me to stop?” His weight settles over you, pinning you down against the mattress. The press of his warm, broad body over yours pulls at that tension in your core, threatening to start building again.

“No! ‘m not too tired.” It’s a lie; you’re exhausted. But your need for him overrides all practicality. “Please, daddy.” If he doesn’t fuck you now, you think you might actually cry yourself back to sleep.

Miguel’s mouth finds your ear, nipping carefully at the lobe. He’s hard against the curve of your backside, and the two of you groan together as his cock presses against your slick folds.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck. He gives an idle thrust of his hips, the head of his cock brushing against your clit and making you cry out under him. “Perfect, pretty girl,” he continues, one of his hands disappearing between your bodies as he lines himself up.

The blunt head of his cock swipes through your folds again, and you tilt your hips up for a better angle. You barely have time to enjoy the feeling of him notching his cockhead against your entrance before he sinks into your cunt, filling you so exquisitely that you think you might actually black out for a moment. The stretch of it pulls a sob out of your throat. It’s a pathetic little noise that makes him smirk smugly against your neck.

His hands find yours, his palms covering the backs of your hands and lacing your fingers with his. It’s somewhere between pinning you down and holding your hands, and it only adds to the tension coiled tightly in your core.

Miguel starts fucking you slow and deep, every measured roll of his hips making you cry out against the pillow. He lets go of one of your hands just long enough to push your hair out of the way of your neck. His beard prickles the delicate skin as his mouth nips and sucks at your throat. You can feel him everywhere, on every inch of you.

The lines between you begin to blur in your mind, until you’re hard pressed to say where exactly you end and he begins, and it’s still not enough. In this position, he can hit so deeply that you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against the very end of you. The room fills with the sounds of your moans mixing together, and the slap of skin. Miguel’s breath is ragged against your ear, and when he licks a line up the column of your neck, actual tears well in your eyes.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you gasp into the pillow. “You always make me feel so good.” Miguel only groans in response, and you can’t help but feel gratified that, for all his words before, he rarely manages to keep talking once he’s inside of you. It makes you feel powerful. Even when he has you pinned like this beneath his body and the bed, even when he’s woken you up to use you, you have the power to leave him speechless.

It’s utterly intoxicating.

Miguel loses his patience before long. He speeds up his thrusts, hips snapping roughly against you. All you can do is make choked little ‘ah’ sounds, half-muffled by the pillows. You cling to Miguel’s hands as you tip over the edge of another devastating climax, your whole body shuddering in what little space you have beneath him. Tears squeeze out from beneath your lashes as you screw your eyes shut, your body feeling too small to contain the heat tearing through you. It must hurt, the way you’re gripping his hands, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead he fucks you harder as you clench down around him. His teeth find your neck again, pulling a feral sound out of you as he tightens his arms around you, holding you closer, surrounding you utterly. His hips grind against you as he comes, pressing himself flush against your body as though he can somehow force himself deeper.

Miguel stays there, his breath ragged in your ear as he starts to come down. His fingers slip from yours and it makes your hands ache as the blood flows back into your fingertips. Slowly, reluctantly, he moves off you. You can’t help the hitch in your breath as his cock, still half-hard, slips out of you. Slick drips between your legs, a mix of his come and yours. Some perverse part of you likes it, gets a thrill out of him making a mess of you. Tired as you are, you don’t bother to clean yourself up.

Instead, you let Miguel pull you into his arms and nestle your head against his shoulder. You move blindly, your eyes still closed.

“You must be so tired, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice back now he’s no longer inside you. You nod into his shoulder; the adrenaline high of your orgasm quickly gave way to such a drop that it’s a wonder you didn’t fall asleep while he was still fucking you. Miguel wraps an arm around you, his hand resting at the curve of your backside as you get comfortable.

“One last thing,” he says softly, squeezing your ass. “You’re not allowed to wear underwear to bed unless you have a very good excuse.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you mumble into his chest. Your eyelids are too heavy for you to open them again for more than a second. All you see is the briefest glimpse of his chest before they close, and you can’t reopen them. You can only yawn and nuzzle against his warm skin, enjoying the way his thumb is stroking your skin.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you won’t do it again.”

****

You wake up to an empty bed. It’s a little disorienting; the lack of Miguel makes you wonder if the night before hadn’t been a particularly vivid dream. You stretch out, something cracking in your spine as you starfish out on the huge bed. It’s been days since you moved in, but you’re still not used to having quite so much space in bed.

You’re too hungry to linger long.

Instead, you slip out from the tangle of sheets and throw on a pretty, light robe. It was a gift from Miguel, like most of the lingerie and nightwear you currently own, and you can’t help admiring yourself in the mirror for a moment. The colour brings out your eyes; he has such lovely taste.

The house is quiet as you make your way towards the kitchen. There’s faint music coming from somewhere, deep within the house, but you can’t quite pinpoint it. You don’t know everyone’s schedules well enough to know if it’s the maid listening to the radio as she cleans, or the gardener working outside. You’re not even sure if Miguel is home or not. It’s a strange feeling, to feel so detached from what’s happening inside your own home.

You’re so convinced you’re alone that you jump when you see Miguel. He’s sitting at the head of the dining table, a mug of fresh coffee in hand and a leather portfolio spread out in front of him. You’re still not used to seeing him in such a domestic setting; from the bare feet to the robe thrown over his black vest and pyjama pants, it feels a little like seeing a teacher outside of school.

“Good morning, mi amor,” he says with a smile when he notices you. He holds a hand out for you, and you take it eagerly, letting him pull you onto his lap.

“Morning, sweetheart. I didn’t sleep in too late, did I?” You ask, making yourself comfortable on his thighs. Miguel wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close as you settle, and kisses your temple.

“No, I’ve not been up long myself. And I thought you could do with the rest after the very warm welcome you gave me last night.”

“Oh. Not a dream then.” You can’t help the flush that spreads across your skin, making your cheeks burn. It’s no different in practice than what you and Miguel would play at in hotel rooms, or on your fleeting visits to Santo Padre, but it feels different now. It’s not out of a desire to maximise his time with you; it was simply because he came home needing you. Your insides twist pleasurably, and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Not a dream,” he confirms, his lovely dark eyes boring into you. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you that makes you look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. It’s soft, but with an unmistakable demanding edge that makes you squirm.

“Do you know what I realised last night?” He asks, catching your chin gently between his forefinger and thumb and forcing you to look up and meet his eyes. “That my days at work are going to feel a lot less tedious now I know I’ll be coming home to you.” He lets go of your chin and leans closer, his lips brushing the delicate shell of your ear.

“That’s romantic,” you manage with remarkable composure as his lips ghost over the bite-mark he left last night. Your hands grip a little tighter to his shoulders.

“Mm. Coming home to you waiting in my bed. Ready for me to use.” A little less romantic, you suppose, but any comeback vanishes from your head when he traces the line of your throat with the tip of his tongue.

“God, always. Whenever you want.”  You mean it too, insane as it might sound to an outsider. Miguel gives you everything you might ever want, makes you feel adored and cherished and desired in a way no other man has even come close to. Why wouldn’t you want to give him the same?

“I always want you.”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @burningtacozombie @ben-c-group-therapy @90sisthenew80s @beccabarba @christinabae @pear-1206

[imagineredwood]

"You should be scared of me. I like that you're not."

Request: You should be scared of me. I like that you're not with our cartel daddy Miguel Galindo"

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x female reader

Warnings: Gun violence, mild blood

Word count: 595

"Come here."

Miguel's voice was gruff as he spoke to you, hand outstretched for you to place yours into it. You stared at him blankly for a handful of seconds, willing for both the fog in your brain and the ringing in your ears to go away. Miguel didn't move, hand still reaching. His heart pounded in his chest, though not from the shootout. From the idea that maybe this would be the thing that finally drove you away. 

The late nights? You had understood. The missed or canceled dates? They'd made you sad, but you knew business was important. Bodyguards all around? Intrusive at times, but necessary. The cartel life had only been glittering necklaces and champagne-filled flutes during bubble baths up until this point. The danger Miguel always spoke on seemingly nonexistent it was so far removed. You hadn't seen it yet; hadn't been subjected to it. 

Until tonight. 

With the shots ringing out, the beautiful crystal clear glass of the windows nearby shattering, the chaos and yelling men. It had shocked you just as much as the sharp pain of your skinned knee when Miguel had shoved you to the ground behind the Suburban. Now here you were, standing back upright, a small trickle of blood dripping down your knee as you stared at your fiance. His eyes were fierce but there was a sadness in them as he wondered if now that you had seen the true state of things, you would decide neither he nor his life were for you and split. That worry fizzled though as you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you in return, one holding the small of your back to keep you upright while the other cradled the back of your head to him. You clung to him, small shudders running through your body as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. He was your safe space. Nothing and no one could make you feel safer, even with all of the casings that littered the street around you. Foolish and dangerous as it may have been. Despite he himself actually being the danger, there wasn't a place you felt safer than in his arms. 

Miguel pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head, ushering you into the vehicle with the help of Nestor, it taking off before either of you could get your seatbelts on. The ride home was silent, your hand clutching Miguels. Neither of you broke it until you were in your bathroom, Miguel kneeling before you to clean your leg while you sat on the counter. 

“You should be scared of me. I like that you’re not.” 

You gazed at him through heavy eyes, the adrenaline from before having worn out and left you ready to crash. Your smile was soft as you looked at him, following him with your eyes as he stood. 

"I could never be scared of you. If there's one thing that doesn't scare me, it's you. You had me on the ground before I even knew what was happening. You saved me. Nothing you do will ever scare me. Unless you tried to cannibalize me or something." 

Your heartfelt way of confirming that you weren't going anywhere both warmed his heart and made him chuckle with a shake of his head. He wrapped his arms around your middle and tugged you off the counter into him, voice taking on a husky edge as he dragged you out of the bathroom and towards the bed. 

"Oh, I'll cannibalize you alright." 

General taglist

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[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 23

It's finally here guys. SO sorry. This had been a hell of a summer. Not to get too into detail, but I've been dealing with heart trouble all summer. Recovery just isn't as swift as I'd like it to be - especially with me still working full time and sometimes a lot more.

I'm not getting a lot written every day so I'm behind. Very behind. I am still writing. It's just behind as hell.

Without further ado - here we go.

As always, please do not repost, translate, or otherwise reuse my work.

Warnings: none as far as I know. I don't think I even curse in this one. As always let me know if I missed something. This is a fluffy daddy-daughter day.

Hank chuckled as Megan broke down into a fit of giggles at her godfather and aunt’s play. She snuggled back into his lap and lifted her face to his for a kiss. He kissed her gently and smiled again.

“So… what do we do until the meeting?” she asked. 

“Well… You are going to take it easy, Poquito. You’ve been going nonstop for days,” Bishop said, sipping his coffee.

“But Tío…”

“Don’t ‘but Tío’ me in that cute voice. I know you’re healing just fine, but even so - a day of rest won’t hurt you.” He smiled softly. “Don’t make me assign you a babysitter. Your prima would be happy to oblige, I’m sure.”

Taza laughed at the pout Megan was giving the Mayan president. “How about a compromise, Chica?”

She perked up a little. “Like what, Papa?”

“If you promise to take it easy, we’ll go to the tack shop and find you a saddle, hmm? One with stirrups short enough for you to ride.”

Megan’s face brightened considerably. “I promise not to overdo it, Papa,” she assured him.

He looked to Bishop. “Fair enough?”

Bishop nodded. “Fair enough. But it’ll have to be without Hank.” He looked at the large Mayan who was cradling her still. “I need you with me today. Need to start planning the next shipment for Galindo.”

Hank sighed and nodded. “Alright.” He glanced down to meet Megan’s big brown eyes. “You’ll be okay with Taza, right?”

She smiled a little and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips and smiled. “Any chance I could talk you into taking my bank card with you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not in the least.”

Diana laughed as Hank made a face. She looked to Marcus with a small smile. “And you, mi rey?”

Marcus affectionately tugged her off the arm of his chair and into his lap. “I am spending the day with my girls before they have to head back.”

Tessa peeked around the kitchen doorway. “Really, Papa? The whole day?”

He smiled and waved her in to sit her on his other knee. “Until I have my meeting this evening - yes. The whole day.”

As the dishes were finished, both clubs split up to take care of day to day tasks. Marcus took Diana and Tessa to the movies for family time. Bishop, Creeper, Riz and Hank split for the clubhouse to begin discussing routes for the next heroin  protection run. And the others all split off to do their own things leaving Taza and Megan home alone.

Megan quickly went to get her boots on - cowboy boots today - and slipped her back up gun into her ankle holster. She used the waist holster today for her 9mm to better conceal it under her hoody.

Taza rapped at the door gently. “Want your hair done, Chica?”

“Please, Papa? It should be dry enough now.”

He grinned and moved to stand behind her at her dressing table. “How do you want it today?”

“Can we just do one braid today? I’m going to wear my hat.”

“Of course.” He quickly french braided her hair into one long braid, fastening it with the hair tie she handed him. He reached and got her cowboy hat from where it hung on the corner of her dresser mirror and handed it to her to settle. “Beautiful, Sweetheart. Let’s go get our kuttes on so we can head out.”

Megan settled the off white hat on her head with her good hand and smiled. “Alright, Papa.”

Megan picked up Rex’s leash from the hook by the door, but left his harness. His collar would be enough for the feed store.

Taza loaded Rex with a smile and settled into the driver's seat of Megan’s Mustang. He’s already helped Megan to buckle up and now it was time to fulfill the promise he’d made her on her second day of knowing him. They were going to get her a saddle.

The tack and feed store was on the other side of town from the ranch, but neither of them minded the short drive. They spent the time talking about what kind of tack Megan preferred. 

Taza was surprised when Megan admitted that she’d owned two different kinds - a roping saddle and an Australian saddle.

“I figured you had a roping saddle. I saw the videos of you doing goat tying. I just figured that’s what you always rode,” he said smiling at her when they stopped at a red light.

“Well - I loved my roping saddle, but it wasn’t practical for cutting competitions. I couldn’t grip the saddle horn well enough to stay on. My Aussie had breakaway stirrups and a much taller horn. Besides, it was so much larger than my roping saddle. That meant I could ride the bigger cattle horses.”

Taza shook his head, amazed at how she could break down the sports that she spent her teenage years doing. “Well Chica, we can probably find you a roper today. We can ask about the Australian though. I don’t think that’s a common saddle here.”

She laughed. “I’ll ride anything that I can reach the stirrups on, Papa. I’m not picky.”

It wasn’t long before Taza parked the Mustang in front of a small, rundown store outside town. Megan could see silos behind the building and a peeling sign that stated that it was the “Feed Store”. Taza quickly came around to help Megan out of the car and unload Rex. 

“Alright, Chica, c’mon. I want to introduce you to Evan. He does barn chores for me when I need him to. He’s also the one who will be delivering the feed, so we should probably introduce him to Rex so he doesn’t get eaten next delivery.” He grinned as Megan settled her hat better and adjusted Rex’s leash so that she’d have better control over the big dog.

“Lead the way, Papa.”

After introducing Megan and Rex to the teenager who Taza paid to take care of his hoofstock, Taza led the way to the back room of the store. There were racks of saddles there, new and used.

Megan took a deep breath and smelled saddle soap and leather. She smiled and felt the smile grow as she moved to examine the saddles closer. 

Taza chuckled and tugged Rex’s leash out of her hand. “Go on Chica. See what you can find.”

Megan never stopped smiling as she went to work. She kept coming back to a black saddle with minimal tooling on it though. It was a Mexican Roping saddle which meant the saddle horn was larger than the one she’d had in Tennessee, but the stirrup length was highly adjustable. There was very little decoration on it. Just a few stars tooled into the skirting in black on black along with a single star on the saddle horn. She finally looked up at Taza. “Papa?”

“Sí, Chica. Is that the one you want?” he asked. 

“If you don’t mind…”

Taza chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind any of them, Sweet Chica.” He called Evan over. “Do you have a breast band and bridle that match that one?”

Evan checked the item number. “We do. The bridle has star conchos on it in silver.”

“We’ll take them then. And a saddle pad,” Taza said. He grinned at Megan. “I tend to double blanket, so the saddle pad can just go under the blanket you pick.”

She laughed. “Alright. But I don’t know if this one will fit Trucker. He’s huge.”

Evan checked the size. “You won’t be able to double blanket him, but it should fit well enough for trails. Shouldn’t be a problem with Rocket and Sugar though.”

Megan breathed a sigh of relief. 

Taza grinned. “She’ll probably be on Rocket the most. She was a barrel racer,” he explained to the boy.

“Ah yeah. That one will fit Rocket real well. It’ll look real pretty against his coat too,” Evan said. “I’ve got that new snaffle in for you too, Taza, and I’ll find a black tie-down to add to this for the ranch trails. Need anything else?”

Taza looked to Megan who shook her head. “I think that’s it Ev. Just add it all to my bill this month, will you? And can you deliver the saddle this evening?”

“Sure. No problem. You want me to ring you up now or…” the teen asked.

“Just charge it, please. Megan doesn’t do well when she knows the prices of things.” Taza chuckled as Megan stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

Even grinned. “Yes, sir. I’ll bring it by when I come to muck out this evening.”

“Good.”

After a little more polite chit chat, Taza excused them from Evan and they loaded back up in Megan’s Mustang. He grinned as he settled into the driver’s seat. “Ready, Chica?”

Megan looked puzzled. “For what, Papa?”

“Well - I’ve got you all to myself until this evening so I thought we’d do something fun.” He slid his round sunglasses on and handed Megan gers. 

That made her giggle as she slid on her own. “Alright. So where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Megan smiled and settled down into her seat as Taza drove. Every once in a while, Rex would nudge her good arm with his enormous head for scritches.

They weren’t driving very long when Megan caught sight of a ferris wheel in the distance. “Papa. Are we going to a carnival?” She looked at him excitedly. 

He laughed. “Your tíos saw a poster for it. They’ve got a rodeo going today too.”

Her eyes lit up even more. “Seriously?”

Taza nodded. “Probably just the minor and pre-events. The big stuff like bull riding and the finals will be tonight while we’re in Mexico. I thought maybe we’d have some fun on the midway and watch a few events.”

Megan bounced in her seat. “That sounds awesome!”

Taza chuckled and shifted gears to turn down the gravel road. He paid for them to park in the field across from the midway. After helping Megan out of the car, he put the top up to keep the dust out.

A few minutes later they were walking through the gates to the middle of the carnival.

With Megan’s arm still injured, rides were out of the question, but the games were still an option. Taza bought Megan some cotton candy and won her a stuffed duck throwing baseballs at milk bottles. When it came to the shooting games though, Megan beat his score every time. He had great aim, but Megan was still better even one handed.

As it approached lunch time, Taza convinced Megan to eat from one of the local charity booths. He ordered them both ribeye sandwiches with cokes. Once they’d claimed their food, he led the way to the arena in the back. Megan chose seats halfway up the metal bleachers in the center of the stands. As they situated themselves, the announcer came over the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen - it is now time for our junior girls speed competition. These beautiful young ladies will compete for the best time as they dodge in and out, weaving between these poles on their horses. May the best lady win!”

“Ooh! This is a fun event,” Megan said, sharing a bite of her sandwich with Rex. 

“Yeah? Did you ever compete in it?” Taza asked smiling as he watched her sit forward to see.

“Once or twice before I was really old enough to ride barrels. It takes a different skill set than barrels does. Your horse can’t be just fast. They need to be able to change direction really quickly too.” She pointed at the horse and rider entering the arena. “Oh - these are the littles too. They’re so cute.”

Taza chuckled at the girl who was lining up to run. She was probably a pre-teen, but her shirt and tack shone with rhinestones. “I kinda wish I had pictures of you from your first rodeo day.”

Megan laughed. “I wasn’t nearly as sparkly and shiny, I assure you. I think when I rode my first time, I’d just been thrown while exercising one of the ropers' horses and was covered in red clay dirt and manure.” She thought about it. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to contact my old coach though. We might be able to find some.”

Taza smiled. “Yeah? You think?”

“Maybe -” Megan sat up straight. “Oooh - here she goes!”

Taza laughed as Megan cheered each little girl at the top of her lungs. He had to remind her to eat between competitions. 

Two events later, the loud speaker crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will now release a group of calves into our arena. You will notice that each animal has a number. For our next competition, these young people will be cutting a specific animal from the herd and keeping it separated for a set amount of time. It’s now time for our junior cutting competition.”

Megan grinned at him and bounced in her seat a little.

Taza smiled back. “That was your event, right?”

“Mmmhmm. These are the juniors though, so if it’s like back home they’ll probably be like eleven to fifteen. I started in the seniors when I was sixteen. Some of the ones at home had been doing it their entire lives though so they could have easily taken on older competitors.” She shifted excitedly on the hard bleacher seat and absently scratched Rex’s ears. 

“So- what’s key here? What should I watch for?” he asked curiously. He loved how animated she got when she talked about it. 

“Well - we’d draw a number and separate the matching steer or calf from the herd. We had to keep it separate for a certain amount of time depending on what level we were competing at.”

“Sounds pretty self explanatory…” he prompted. 

Megan grinned. “Except you have to do it without appearing to move at all with the perfect form while your horse turns on two feet.”

While they were talking the arena workers had released about twenty older calves into the ring. The calves all milled around nervously. The first competitor was announced and a young girl entered on a horse that almost looked too big for her. 

Megan grinned again. “Watch. She’s trying to find her target.”

Taza watched as the girl slowly moved the horse into the herd. Once she’d spotted the number 99 on the side of a calf, she managed to quickly separate it from the herd. 

“Oh! She’s got it! Now the fun part…”

Taza watched as the girl gripped her saddle horn with one hand and appeared to lay her other hand down and not move the reins. The horse wheeled and spun on its back feet to cut the calf off as it tried to dart back to the herd. It didn’t look physically possible for the tiny girl to stay in the saddle. He winced as the horse ran full out to block the calf again before spinning to cut it back off when it changed direction. The entire time the little girl on its back held tight and didn’t move the reins from the horse’s neck. 

“Is she in control or is the horse just that well trained?” he asked Megan in an awestruck tone without taking his eyes off the arena.

Megan chuckled. “Probably a bit of both. She’s using micro movements and weight shifts mostly. We just can’t see them from up here. Either she was raised in that particular horse’s saddle or that’s a beautifully trained animal. She’ll probably take the competition.” She smiled as the buzzer sounded and the girl picked up the reins to tell the horse to release the calf. 

Taza took a deep breath. “How old were you when you started to do this competition again?” He turned back to her with wonder on his face. 

“Seriously? About fourteen. I dabbled the year before that, but never had my own horse to actually get very far. Honestly the politics of it is insane off the circuit. When you only ride shows and not rodeos like this - you usually end up burned out from the damn politics and not the riding. Rodeo is better. There’s no ‘girls vs. boys’.” Megan shrugged as best she could.

“Damn Chica. Did you ever get really injured?” Taza’s forehead creased in worry.

“Mostly dislocated shoulders. Had a mare fall with me once. I got caught in the stirrup and couldn’t bail. I got lucky though. Broken arm, ankle and ribs. After that, I always rode breakaway stirrups.” Megan turned back to the arena as a boy in his early teens started his run. “Nope - too sloppy,” she muttered.

Taza watched the kid as his thoughts raced. His daughter had ridden this competition. This dangerous sport. She’d been injured - seriously, from the sound of it - but thought nothing of it. He watched Megan out of the corner of his eye as she continued to enjoy the event. 

A few kids later, the arena M.C. asked them to clear the arena. Taza glanced down at his watch. It was getting late. 

Megan caught the movement and smiled. She knew Taza didn’t want to drag her away from the rodeo. “Papa?”

“Yes, Chica?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

“Can we get a caramel apple before we go? They’re my favorite,” she said, standing to stretch a bit. “I’m getting stiff sitting on these bleachers.”

Taza chuckled and stood as well. “Of course. Let’s go find you one. Maybe some more cotton candy too.”

Back at the car, Taza loaded Rex and then helped Megan back into her seat. She was contentedly munching on a corn dog. Taza sat the bag with the other treats in it in the Mustang’s center console. They’d gotten Megan’s caramel apples in a few different flavors as well as kettle corn and more cotton candy for home. A giant cup of fresh lemonade was in the cup holder between them. He started the engine and they pulled out of the field where they’d parked and back out onto the gravel road. 

“Thank you, Papa. That was a lot of fun,” Megan said as she leaned her head back in her seat. 

“You’re welcome, Sweet Chica. The rodeo was eye opening. I never really paid that much attention to the little events.” He patted her knee. “I’d like to see you compete one day.”

Megan smiled softly. “It would be fun, but cutting horses are expensive. We’d have to find one already trained. I don’t have the skills to train one on my own.”

Taza turned onto the main road and headed back towards the clubhouse. “We could ask Evan to keep a look out for one though. I think I will. I’ve got plenty of room for another horse even if you decide not to compete.”

She laughed. 

At the clubhouse, Hank met them as Taza parked the car. The ignition wasn’t even off before he had Megan’s door open and he was helping her unbuckle. Megan giggled as he guided her out of the passenger seat and straight into a deep kiss. 

Taza laughed and let Rex out on his side. 

“Damn bro - let the Princessa breathe. She wasn’t gone that long!” Angel called from the clubhouse porch.

Megan wrapped her good arm around Hank’s neck and flipped Angel off with a giggle.

“Oh - I see how it is, Shorty. See if I save your ass from him again,” Angel grumbled loudly.

Hank finally broke the kiss with a chuckle. “Welcome back, mi amore. Did you find a saddle?”

Taza shook his head exasperatedly but grinned at Bishop. “We weren’t gone THAT long.”

Bishop grinned. “Long enough for Hank to realize that he left without giving you her pain pills. He’s been worried sick all damn day.”

Taza started as he realized Bishop was right. He hadn’t had her pills which meant that she’d been without pain relief all day. “Shit! Why didn’t he call or text? We’d have come and got them.” He turned to watch Hank murmuring a question to Megan. 

Bishop shrugged. “I told him you’d call if she needed them.” He nodded at where Megan was shaking her head and popping up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to el pacificador’s mouth. “Looks like she is just fine to me, Hermano.”

Taza sighed and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Did you end up taking her to that carnival?” Bishop asked as Taza climbed the stairs and accepted the beer Bishop held out to him. 

That made him grin. “We did and we watched some events at the rodeo too. Even caught the cutting competition.” He shook his head. “Brother - it brings a whole new appreciation for her tenacity watching that event with her.”

Bishop grinned. “Maybe we all need to go sometime.”

“Megan would probably love that.” Taza went back to the car to pull out one of the caramel apples. “C’mon Chica. Let’s go cut up your apple,” he said with a grin. “Much easier to eat that way.”

Once everyone was back in the bar and Megan’s apple had been cut, they settled in to wait for Marcus and Chibs. It was time to go meet Adelita. 

taglist:

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[zaenight]

READ ALL ABOUT IT CH 4

[TW: there are slight mentions of stuff discussed in ch1-2,past Sa and abuse mentions]

------------

"Luke, Luke, what up dawg?Check this out,You shoot this one , let's see what you got." said Skills , it was late in the afternoon as the boys played basketball as they always do.

Carlo watched as lucas made the basket , thoughts of the other day plaguing his mind as he ate his chips anxiously.

"Come on, lets move!" Mouth exclaimed.

"Time to go, baby." Skills.

"Six-thirty, Luke!" jimmy said as Carlo got up and jumped on Lucas's back.

"Aw , come on guys, you dont gotta come Its just a game." Lucas said as rolling his eyes as he made sure Carlo didn't fall off , the boy light for his age , still the same as they were younger.

"Right,Whitey asked you to play on the team." said skills.

"And Nathan threatens you." junk said to Lucas .

"You tried flirting with his girl, eres todo tipo de desorden ." said Carlo as Lucas glared at the boy who blinked innocently.[your just all kinds of messy]

"You beat him right here one on one, you join the team." Mouth stated with a smile.

"And now its the first game and we aint gotta come?" said Skills.

"To bad this game is for all of us , we're going ." Finished Carlo as Lucas let out a scoff with a smirk.

"Go Luke!"

"Let's go Luke."

"Vamos apurate Lucas." yeah we all know who said that.

----------

"Karen! , Luisa! , You ready to go?" Keith exclaimed.

"Oh Im not going,I decided to stay open,I could use the business." Stated Karen as Luisa shook her head with an I tried look on her face , Sirena on her hip.

"You talk to Luke about this?" Keith questioned.

"No,But hell understand." Karen stated .

"Karen..." said Keith.

"She doesnt want to go." Said Hayley by the door.

"Hayley's right I tried talking to her , pero no she wouldn't listen." Said Luisa shaking her head.

"She doesnt want to see her high school sweetheart,slash your brother Dan,slash the jerk who abandoned Lucas slash the father of Nathan, the team's star player slash my wrists , if I hear this story again,Lets go!"said Hayley with a accusing tone and raised brow.

"I think youre making a mistake." Said Keith.

"Mama is Riri gonna play the ball game." Said Sirena as she got buckled into her car seat.

"Not unless Whitey hog ties him and makes him ." Luisa said with snort.

---------

At the same time the conversation was going down so was this one , oh Luisa how right you where.

"Wh- you can't make me play!" Said Carlo , one minute he was with Jimmy and Mouth , the next he was in the boy's locker room."

"Detention for a week if ya don't." said Whitey.

"What!, your just making up rules , Whitey come on I'm uncoordinated , unfocussed." Carlo rambled.

Whitey thought about it , before throwing the jersey at Carlo.

"You know you father had one of the highest jumps , when we watched ya'll play that night , your jump rivaled his , infact it was higher than Marcelo's." said Whitey.

"Screw him, and screw this , Whitey you want me to play , alright I'll play just this once, but after that I'm done, because to me basketball is just something I do for fun not sport, and you putting Galindo instead of Del'gado on this jersey won't change my mind, and for the record my jump being higher than my father's is because Im just better than he ever will be." Stated Carlo with a clenched jaw and a glare when his so-called father was brought up.

----------

"Scott!, Galindo!" Whitey exclaimed , after pointing to lucas after Nathan thought he was being called , but what the hell does he want with him now.

"I cant believe the bastard spawns on our team." said Tim to Nathan as the two other boys walked into the office.

"For now,besides maybe we should worry about Del'gado , you know his father would beat him and his mother black and blue, and daddy dearest would take out so much more on his mother , if you know what I mean , and then he was raised by gang members on top of all that , it's trouble waiting to happen." Nathan stated shaking his head with a whistle.

----------

"You nervous?" said Whitey.

"A little bit." said Lucas.

"I wouldn't be if you didn't force me to play." Carlo grumbled out.

"Good. You ought to be, and watch your tone boy." said Whitey as Carlo rolled his eyes dramatically as Lucas shook his head with a small smile.

"Just do what youve been doing all week in practice,Youll be fine." He continued as he threw a jersey at lucas.

"oh sure but you throw the kid that barely plays into the game." Carlo groaned before walking out, Whitey yelling that he better change his mis matched socks.

"Luke!, Rico!, You mind if we get a few words before your first game?" said Mouth.

"Yeah,Were going to put it on the internet , Ravenshoops.com ." said jimmy with a grin.

"Yeah we're gonna have a web cast and everything." mouth said once again.

Carlo must have really bad memory cause he could have sworn they had one already.

"What the hell is this?" questioned Whitey coming out of his office a few seconds later.

"Well, we have this website."

" Yeah, were sports announcers." tried explaining the boys.

"Not in here, youre not,The locker rooms closed,No media." said Whitey shaking his head.

"Dude, did you hear that? Were media." Mouth said as the two smiled.

"Not just media,Banned media." Said jimmy as Carlo and Lucas just looked at them before shaking their heads.

---------

"They dont wanna what! Or were gonna what!,Or what! Or what!" the players chanted , besides Carlo and Lucas.

"Alright,Lets take the court." said Whitey.

"Want my world? You and short stack got it." said Nathan as Carlo scrunched his face.

"I'm 5"11 , that's not even short!, you people are just too tall." Carlo exclaimed , he grew a few inches and gained some muscle thank you very much.

-------------

"Keith! Hey, Finally came to see your nephew play, huh, big brother?" Said Dan Scott , Keith's brother , Nathan's dad , and the sperm donor of Lucas.

"Yeah,I guess you can say that." said Keith.

"Mommy look Riri!" exclaimed Sirena bouncing up and down joyfully.

"well would you look at that , Whitey threatened him." said Luisa before coming to her conclusion , mostly because she could see the annoyed and dramatic eyeroll her son kept giving to Whitey.

"Well I don't see rope burns from an escape attempt, looks like someone didn't get hogtied after all , shame would've loved to see that." Said Hayley , laughing as Sirena climbed into her lap.

"Tonight, Lucas Scott and Carlo Del- I mean Galindo , plays their first game for the Tree Hill Ravens, however Rico made it known he would only play one game." stated Mouth into the microphone.

"Thats right, Mouth, Now the Ravens are 5 and O,But this is their first game following the suspension of six varsity players, and would you look at that high jump delivered by Carlo Galindo , talk about slam dunk!" Jimmy exclaimed , however on the court Carlo was grumbling to himself that he better get food after this.

"Son!" exclaimed Dan Scott , As Lucas looked at him after he shot his basket.

"Wake up." said Nathan circling Lucas , Carlo then scoffed as Nathan hit his shoulder as Whitey called them over , what a dick .

Looking up he smiled as his mother , sister , and Hayley cheered him on , before he laughed realizing that Grandpa Nero ,Spook,Cookie,and Matches rushed in through the gym doors giving him a nod , they were getting weary looks from people , but a big smirk from Carlo.

-------

"So that's the boy that beat Nathan?,Well, he's good from behind, and gang boy can get it anytime he wants , those puppy dog eyes are to die for." Said Brooke Davis , Popular girl , head cheerleader , you name it .

Peyton rolled her eyes at her bestfriend , sure Carlo was cute , but her eyes where on the Scott boys.

--------

"Luke, relax,Destiny has a way of finding you, and keep rolling those eyes Galindo , see what happens." said Whitey as Carlo gave him a deadpan look.

Chanting and cheers filled the gym , oh and Lucas hit Peyton with a basketball.

"Nice hands." said Peyton as she glared lightly at Lucas , Carlo laughed at his bestfriend as he replied to the girl.

"Nice legs." he replied back.

"Nice ass Gang boy." said Brooke towards Carlo , who was a bit overwhelmed by the noise.

"Yeah nice pom poms." Carlo said nodding his head at her ,not realizing what he said as he got back to the game.

"He likes my pom poms." said Brooke with a smirk as Peyton shook her head.

"The ones in your hand or the ones on your chest." Peyton said with a teasing scoff.

--------

"Lets see some game!"

"Hey, which side you on?" said Nathan as the other team scored , lucas kept missing , Nathan made one getting cheers from the crowd , and Whitey yelled to pass the ball to Carlo who was not interested but didn't wanna risk getting detention via Whitey.

Lucas got pulled out of the game , that lucky bastard.

----------

"That was something , good thing I won't have to play again , and did you really have to threaten Whitey , It's just gonna make him harder on me Ma." Said Carlo as they were eating dinner.

"Ok for starters I said that I would hog tie him if he ever made you play a sport you didn't want to , Las caras que hiciste a sus espaldas lo dejaron claro." Luisa said before shaking her head as Carlo choked on his water.[the faces you made behind his back made that clear]

"you saw that!, you think he could feel my annoyance , Ma im a goner." Carlo groaned.

"Now your just being dramatic." Cookie said as Spook laughed , Carlo however was in distraught.

Nero shook his head at them , oh how he wishes his son and Polo could be here , then their family would truly be complete.

"Matches stop trying to teach the kids how to put curses on people! look what happened to Martha from the coffee shop , she deserved it but still!" Nero heard Luisa exclaim.

Oh Martha , she decided to be rude when she got served ,the kids then took revenge for their mother, oh she never stood a chance against those seagulls.

----------

Carlo grabbed his guitar , Sirena tucked into bed as she awaited her new lullaby, Luisa watching her children with a smile as she went to clean up the kitchen.

"Mientras Peter Pan vuela por el cielo oscuro,Su sombra baila con la luna en lo alto.Las estrellas brillantes le susurran secretos al oído, guiándolo más allá de los reinos del miedo.

Oh Wendy Darling, con los ojos muy abiertos por el asombro,Mientras observa desde su ventana y sueña con Neverland, donde el tiempo se detiene,Y los Niños Perdidos riéndose junto al riachuelo de la Sirena.Vuela, vuela, Peter, por caminos llenos de estrellas, Persiguiendo cometas, mientras cabalga rayos de luna, liberándose de todas sus cadenas.

sus alas cubiertas de polvo de duendecillo lo llevan lejos, a una tierra donde los sueños y la magia son nuestra Estrella del Norte. El barco del Capitán Garfio navega por el mar a medianoche, mientras el reloj del Cocodrilo emite una inquietante súplica. Sin embargo, Peter se eleva, libre del peso del tiempo, riendo con las hadas, tejiendo cuentos en rima.

Oh, Tinker Bell revolotea, un duende ardiente, iluminando el camino a través de la noche de Nunca Jamás.Las sirenas cantan canciones de cuna de la espuma del océano, y los niños perdidos encuentran consuelo en el hogar de la luz de las estrellas mientras Peter toca su flauta, y ahora termina esta melodía." Carlo finished the short but simple lullaby as his baby sister fell asleep , going to help his mother in the kitchen.

[As Peter Pan flies throughout the dark sky,His shadow dances with the moon up high.

The bright stars whisper secrets in his ear, Guiding him beyond the realms of fear.

Oh Wendy Darling, eyes wide with wonder, As she watches from her window, and dreams of Neverland, where time stands still,And the Lost Boys laughing by the Mermaid's rill.Fly, fly, Peter, through star-strewn lanes,Chasing comets, as he rides moonbeams, breaking free from all his chains.

his pixie-dusted wings carry him far, To a land where dreams and magic are our Northern Star. Captain Hook's ship sails the midnight sea, as the Crocodile's clock gives a haunting plea. Yet Peter soars, unburdened by time, Laughing with fairies, weaving tales in rhyme.Oh Tinker Bell flits, a fiery sprite, Lighting the way through Neverland's night.The Mermaids sing lullabies of ocean foam, And the Lost Boys find solace in starlight's home As Peter plays his flute , and now he ends this tune.]

----------

"Early in his career, Hemingway was frustrated,He was a good writer who wanted to be great,and eventually, he discovered that less was more." Mr. Kelly , their teacher spoke the next day at school.

"Peyton,Describe Lucas using just one word." he continued as he called upon Peyton.

"Choke." she said as the class laughed.

Carlo and Lucas glanced at eachother , this girl.

"Okay, be quiet please,Thank you,Lucas, care to respond and describe Peyton?" He said.

"Lonely." Lucas replied.

"Okay, be quiet please,Yes? Nathan?" Mr. Kelly asked .

"I can describe Lucas AND Carlo in one word,Bastard and Gang banger." Nathan said with a smirk as the class got riled up.

"That's three words jackass." Carlo replied glaring , he's heard it all before , now if he said something about his mother that would be different.

Lucas however did not take this lightly as he launched at Nathan before delivering a punch.

-----------

"I'd stand up but every time I do, somebody kicks me in the ass for putting you on the team,Sit down,and you why are you here!" Whitey said to Lucas and then glared at Carlo who raised his hands up in surrender.

"Emotional support, alright jeez I got banned from the classroom for cheering him on." Carlo said until the man glared again.

"Get the hell out of my office before I make you play on the team!" Whitey exclaimed.

"Sorry Luke your on your own , I ain't playin'." Carlo said smacking his shoulder before rushing out,hitting a locker.

"IM OKAY!" the boy exclaimed, leaving Lucas to get lectured.

--------------

"Any side effects?" Hayley questioned Lucas as her and Carlo played gulf on their rooftop.

"From what?" Lucas said in the same tone , Glancing at Carlo who whistled.

"Your amnesia." She said.

"What are you talking about?" Lucas questioned.

"Im talking about how you mustve gotten amnesia because I know that you would've mentioned that you got into a fight today,Are you okay, Luke?,." Hayley said to him .

"Don't look at me like that , she forced it out of me!" Carlo replied as Lucas glanced at him.

After that was over , Carlo and Hayley continued their own small chat as lucas left.

"You remember that one time we accidently ate a plate full of weed brownies and your mom chased spook with her broom?" Hayley said , their thing was bringing up past memories , it was the way they bonded , it was their special thing.

"Yeah , never seen Spook so Spooked." Carlo laughed.

"Oh my god , remember the time I sprained my wrist when I Jumped off that swing , so you did the same thing so we could be sprain buddies." Hayley laughed as Carlo let out a smirk before wincing.

"Yeah only difference was that I broke it , cried more getting the damn cast on, than when i broke it." Carlo said raising a brow.

"The power of Adrenaline." Hayley said as they Laughed.

---------

"You know, its really too bad Lucas is poor and he can't play because he is fine, and that Carlo , a bit more muscle and my god , Hey you think he talks you through it." Brooke said before getting a pillow thrown at her face.

"You disgust me." Peyton groaned as they hung out in her room.

"Hey, I think its really good that youre fighting with Nathan again." Brooke stated.

"You do?" Peyton questioned.

"Yeah,Every time you guys fight I get to hear new music,Hey, what's his story, Carlo's , I've heard things, about his dad." Brooke said before changing tune of the conversation.

"I know I've heard all about it , that man is pure evil , apparently he would go around cheating , and if Carlo's mom brought it up... , he would rape her, they say that Carlo is a rape baby because his dad was in Dan Scott's year , guess around eighteen , and she was only sixteen,then he started taking it out on him , they said that he was way smaller and lighter than other kids because he would be starved, that's why he's always seen eating." Peyton started saying as Brooke had a solemn look upon her face.

"That he would pay off cops and everything , They say that Carlo has an even higher jump than his father , it's why Whitey forced him to play , and then one day he left , then Carlo's mother fell in love with a gang member , she had his baby sister , but the dude got killed in a shoot out or something...all in all , the poor dude was doomed from the start." Peyton finished as Brooke grabbed a music disk , changing the topic, the conversation lingering in her mind.

-----------

"So, you gonna tell me about the fight or you wanna just assume I know about it while I yell at you?" Karen said , Luisa already cursed Carlo out , not for the fight , but for pissing of Whitey , other than that he was scotch free.

"Is that the phone? I'll get it." said Hayley.

"Yeah I hear it too." Carlo said making an Escape, his mother had went to pick up Sirena from daycare, leaving him stranded with an angry mother.

Him and Hayley totally weren't eavesdropping , ok maybe they were.

----------

"Look, I want to talk about whats happening with the team,I know you think I've been hard on you, but thats because I see the big picture here,Whiteys not going to bench this kid just because of one bad game, and we're lucky Marcelo's boy doesn't like playing the game, because scouts need to look at you , not him." Said Dan Scott as he walked with Nathan.

"So what? Let him humiliate himself, and all Del'gado has is a high jump , nothing else." said Nathan with a scoff.

"No,Its more than that,Back when I played for Whitey, his word was law,He was always right,Even when he was wrong,So eventually I called him on it, and those Jumps are no joke , his father won three championships when he went off for college , Then he screwed up his arm when he went in for a slam dunk." Dan explained.

The two Scotts then continued their conversation as they exercised.

----------

"Okay, were going to try our little Hemingway project again,But in order to avoid a bar fight, were going to do it on paper,Now you dont have to put your names on these,Simply write one word, one single word,to describe what you want most in your life right now." Mr. Kelly said to them.

DETERMINATION.

his determination to prove everyone wrong.

--------

"Please tell me you hit him." Said Carlo.

"I missed , I just keep missing man." Lucas said.

"Want me curse him , you saw what happened to Martha from the coffee shop , El Brujo is ready to cast the dead on him." Carlo said , huffing when Lucas said no , as amusing as it would be.

"Uh oh , I'm gonna let you talk to your girl , well your brothers girl, ow!" Carlo said hopping off the desk , totally not listening to the conversation, occasionally bumping into stuff , and Keith who scared the crap out of him.

--------

"Did you ever figure out your porn name?" Hayley said randomly.

"what are you talking about?" asked Lucas.

"Jesus Hayley." Carlo laughed.

"Your porn name,you know, you take the name of your first pet and your mothers maiden name and you put them together,What was the name of your first pet?" She replied.

"you know that I had a dog named rocket." Lucas said.

"Rosie the yorkie." Carlo said remembering the small yorkie that terrified him as a child ended up being his best friend after Toni and Polo died , Polo would be proud of all the spiritual terror,Rosie and him rained upon the compound.

"Oh, Rocket! Ah! I loved Rocket, and Rosie , I loved them so much." Hayley started to say.

"So your mothers maiden name is Roe, Rocket Roe!, and Galindo , Rosie Galindo!" She Said , Carlo laughed at the thought.

"And yours?" The boys smirked.

"Oh, I had a bunny, named Bunny." Hayley smiled in memory.

"You had a Bunny named Bunny?" Lucas questioned.

"Real original Hayley Bayley." Carlo snorted bringing back up his old childhood nickname for the girl.

"Yes I did,And my mothers maiden name is Beaugard, so Bunny Beaugard." She said with a laugh.

"Dawsons Freak,Starring Rocket Roe, Rosie Galindo,and Bunny Beaugard." As the three laughed Carlo went on his way , leaving Hayley to speak to Lucas about the game.

---------

"Check it out , looks like he'll play afterall." Carlo smirked as they looked out the window of the cafe.

Sirena laughed as Carlo gave her a piggyback ride to the car as the all loaded up to go support Lucas.

-----------

"Lets go, lets go! Ravens on three! One, two, three! Ravens!" the cheerleaders cheered.

"Come on Lucas!" Carlo Exclaimed , catching Brooke's stare.

You know maybe cheerleaders aren't so bad afterall.

[dreamlover31]

We'll it's been 5 seasons but we've reached the end of the Mayans MC series, for those of you who have yet to watch the series finale I suggest you avoid reading this post... especially for you Miguel Galindo fans

First I'd like to start with the moment we've all been waiting for...the timely demise of Ezekiel Reyes, when Bishop reveals to everyone that EZ the rat and Creeper was killed because he knew, he gets both EZ and Angel pinned down by Gilley and the others...at that moment Bishop gives Angel a choice, kill your brother to prove to us that you had no knowledge or they kill them both

Now naturally Angel is not going to lose the only living blood relative he has but EZ reassures him that it's the only way he can be there for his son Maverick...so reluctantly Angel stabs his brother and the rest of the MC take turns stabbing him until he's dead, now I know it's a fucked up position to be in but in the end Angel gets to be a father to Maverick and that's good enough for me

Speaking of which, turns out that Sofia... EZ's girlfriend is in fact pregnant and if course I had my reservations about it given her track record as a mother and the baby daddy but that problem took care of itself when Bottles shoots Sofia after they've finished killing EZ... tying up loose ends as they say

And then of course Marcus has welcomed another son with his wife, basically the theme of fatherhood is apparent in this episode but the fact that both Angel and Marcus will be there to raise their sons and not have a dark cloud looming over them made it the perfect way to end the series

However, there will be one little boy who won't have that chance...sorry to say guys but Cristobal won't be having anymore playful moments with his dad because his mother shot him. Emily avenged her sister's death by shooting not only Miguel but the bodyguard Luis...I know this is devastating to all you Miguel fans out there but I never cared for the man so his death like EZ's was a long time coming

So all in all, I'm so glad at the way everything turned out, 3 psychopaths dead (EZ, Miguel and Isaac) both Emily and Angel as well as Marcus are free to raise their children without fear and death hanging over them although it is a bittersweet victory since everyone's favorite corrupt DEA agent Potter is still running the show but you take what you can get right lol

[danny-pino-group-therapy]

I’d like to sit on his face. Beard burn would be worth it. I’d walk bow legged for a week. 🥵

*not my photo*

[burningtacozombie]

Omg yess, It could be very interesting to see Miguel taking Tomás under his wings depending on what's going to happen with Martin whitin the next episodes. I guess I'm just a sucker for Miguel as a dad (or a father figure) in general 😅

that's exactly it. Miguel was so adorable with Cristobal and we simply haven't gotten enough scenes of them and need more. I could imagine him and Tomás form a strong bond over time too. if they get the chance, that is.

but then again, it's not just Miguel. it's Danny and how he is always amazing with kids. on any show really. it's completely adorable and really heartwarming and I love it.

[pascalispretty]

The Poetry of the Body: One

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Discussions of pregnancy, implied age gap, hair pulling, choking, biting, scratching, dirty talk, breeding kink, D/s vibes, Miguel being himself, heavy petting, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, daddy kink. AU where Emily doesn't exist.

Summary: You and Miguel discuss the possibility of expanding your family, and negotiate the details.

A/N: thanks to my beloved @misscharlielulu for all her love and support in getting this finished. Title of the fic is from 'La llama doble. Amor y erotismo' by Octavio Paz. Title of the chapter comes from the Pablo Neruda poem 'My Lovely One', which is quoted within the fic (see end of work for translation). Written to fulfil the 'breeding kink' prompt for @storiesofsvu2-0's bingo!

One: My Homeland Is In Your Eyes (ao3)

It’s late by the time you and Miguel come home. The house is quiet; the guards near-silent as they patrol the perimeter, the rest of the household fast asleep. As soon as you get through the front door you kick your heels off, wanting to preserve the peace that’s settled over the house. At the top of the stairs, where Miguel makes to turn left, you tug on his hand. 

“I wanna see Cristóbal,” you whisper, aware that the wine from dinner makes you sound as tipsy as you feel. 

“Don’t wake him,” he says after a moment and follows your lead down the hall, your footsteps muted by the thick carpet. Your husband’s hand is warm in yours as you carefully push open the door of your son’s room. The light from the hallway spills into the nursery, just enough to illuminate Cristóbal sleeping soundly in his bed. The tangle of his dark curls stands out starkly against his light sheets – you feel an overwhelming urge to tiptoe across the room and press a kiss to his head. 

Instead, you hover in the doorway with Miguel and content yourself with blowing him a kiss. Any more would risk waking him.

“See?” Miguel whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Safe and sound.” He squeezes your hand reassuringly, and you both watch as Cristóbal nuzzles closer to his stuffed rabbit. The nursery door closes with a soft click and this time you let Miguel lead you by the hand to the other end of the house and your bedroom. 

“It’s unfair, you know,” you start once your bedroom door closes behind you. Miguel half turns on his way into the en suite, raising an eyebrow. 

“What’s that?” 

“How much he looks like you.” You boost yourself up on the bathroom counter, getting comfortable as you undo Miguel’s cufflinks for him. Miguel smiles at you, chucking you playfully under the chin once you’re done. 

“You say that as though it’s a bad thing,” Miguel replies, toeing his dress shoes off. The bathroom always looks a mess after a night like tonight, clothes thrown in the vague direction of the hamper and your makeup strewn everywhere until you can be bothered to straighten everything up. 

“It’s not bad,” you protest, watching intently as Miguel takes his phone out of his pocket so he can shrug his grey blazer and vest off. “It just feels very unfair that I did all the hard work, but he’s the spitting image of you.” 

“Sorry, querida. You’re going to have to take that one up with God.” You roll your eyes at your husband’s teasing, hopping down from the counter. 

“God’s got nothing to do with it. Certainly not where you’re concerned.” It’s a mischievous jab, one that takes you dangerously close to precarious ground. You at least have the wherewithal not to call him ‘el Diablo’ to his face. Turning around, you glance up at Miguel’s reflection in the mirror to study his reaction, pleased that he seems more amused than annoyed. 

“I’m not about to let anything else take credit for my exceptionally good genes. I just hope he has his mother’s brains.” 

“And his father’s humility.” You flick the tap on, and open the drawer beside it to get your pills. The alarm had gone off on your phone at dinner, prompting you to take it, but that had been hours ago. Only the topic of conversation reminded you of it. 

Before you can attempt to wrest one of the tiny pills from the package, you feel one of Miguel’s arms loop tightly around your waist, his body moulding against yours. He reaches forward to turn the faucet off again.

“Don’t take it.” Miguel rests his chin on your shoulder, and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. For a long moment, you just look at him, wondering if you heard him right. This time, there’s no teasing in his expression; his lovely dark eyes are full of sincerity. 

“Miguel-” you start, not even sure where to begin. 

“What? We’ve talked about it. We could see if this one looks more like you.” He presses closer, his beard prickling your neck and his gaze unwavering. 

“...in a vague, ‘someday’ kind of way. We should at least have an actual, sober conversation about having another baby.” You fidget idly with the pack of birth control pills still in your hand. Miguel was right; you had talked about it, on-and-off since before Cristóbal was even born. 

Before you had gotten pregnant with your son, the answer had been an unwavering ‘yes’. Two children had felt like a good number; little siblings who could play and grow together. And even now, the idea tugs on your heartstrings, the thought of your precious family expanding to welcome another perfect baby. 

And yet. 

“I- Miguel, it was so hard with Cristóbal.” It’s a severe understatement. He sighs softly, arms squeezing you tighter. 

“I know, amor. But we’ll know what to expect this time. And you know I’ll always take care of you.” Miguel dips his head to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. Your hesitation is weakening by the second, soothed by Miguel’s touch and his promise. 

“Even when I get fat and hideous again?” You ask, running the fingers of your free hand along his forearm. 

“You weren’t fat, you were pregnant. How could you possibly be hideous, full of our baby?” He trails more kisses along the curve of your shoulder and neck, and you tip your head back to allow him better access. 

“You just say that because you were into it,” you huff, but Miguel ignores you in favour of nipping your throat. He could hardly deny it anyway; from the first shy curve of your belly, he had been intensely preoccupied with the changes his baby was wreaking on your body. 

The relentless assault on your reserve escalates when your husband presses his leg between yours, providing the barest amount of pressure at the apex of your thighs. Your cocktail dress isn’t so accommodating; you’re certain you hear some of the stitches pop as he tries to force your legs further apart. It’s so hard to think straight with his mouth at your neck and his thigh against your centre, that familiar tightness in your core just starting to build. 

You let go of the pills, the packet clattering as it falls from your fingers and into the sink. 

“I want a real conversation about this tomorrow. Sober. Uninterrupted,” you manage between shaking breaths. The hard line of his cock presses insistently against the curve of your backside, and your eyes practically roll back in your head at the feeling. 

“Fine,” Miguel says between kisses, backing off just enough to turn you around to face him. 

“I mean it,” you try even as he encourages you up to sit on the bathroom counter. Your fingers grip the front of his black shirt, and you have to fight the urge to pull it open and send buttons scattering over the floor. 

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight’s mine.” Miguel steps between your legs and tries to kiss you, but you lean back. 

“Tonight’s yours, jefe. But if we’re trying again, I want to be seduced. Make it something I want.” Your fingers start working open the buttons of his shirt as he gives you an amused smile.  

“I can’t conjure up another thunderstorm, mi amor,” he starts, and you pout up at him. In a hormonal haze when you were pregnant with Cristóbal, you had become convinced he’d been conceived during one of the rare thunderstorms that rolled across the desert. The oppressive August heat had broken for a little while, and you and Miguel had made good use of the time. 

“If you don’t like my terms-” 

“The terms are fine, I’m just tempering your expectations. Short of arranging an act of God for you, what kind of seduction do you want?” He trails his fingers up the inside of your thigh, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw gently. You swallow thickly, the way he’s looking at you making you feel delirious with need. 

“Do you want me to be sweet with you, baby?” The hand on your thigh slides under the hem of your dress, higher, until his fingertips brush against your silky underwear. He knows you, knows what you need; for him to supplant your anxieties with something dark and thrilling. You don’t miss the brief, smug smirk when he registers how wet you are already, and he makes a soft, contented noise in the back of his throat. 

“My pretty baby. I can be sweet with you if you want me to be. Bring you roses and compare you to poetry. ‘Mi patria está en tus ojos, yo camino por ellos, ellos dan luz al mundo por donde yo camino…’” Miguel leans in to kiss you again, and you don’t pull back this time. Using Neruda and pet names against you is underhanded at best, but you can’t argue with it, not when you’d asked for a seduction. 

Miguel’s mouth slants over yours, stealing your breath with the depth of the kiss. You can taste the whiskey from dinner on his lips. His fingertips press more firmly against your cunt, finding your clit through the silk, and you whimper against his mouth as heat radiates through your body. You’re so caught up in the way his hand between your legs is petting at you that you don’t notice his other hand shifting. He grabs a fistful of your hair with no warning, the sharp pain in your scalp eliciting a stunned cry from you. The feeling dances right along that knife edge of pleasure-pain, one that you’ve become intimately familiar with since you met Miguel. 

“Or do you want a different kind of seduction?” He asks, ignoring your needy whine when he stops stroking your clit. The hand in your hair tugs down, forcing you to arch your back and expose your throat to him. More stitches pop as he steps closer between your legs, your dress riding up your thighs as you try to accommodate him. He leans down until your noses bump, his dark gaze unwavering. 

“Should I be mean to you, mi amor? Cruel, demanding?” His free hand finds your throat, his palm burning hot against your skin. Your nails catch at his black undershirt, clawing at the soft fabric. The silk of your dress and the slick marble of the counter leaves you feeling like you’re slipping inexorably forwards, towards Miguel. He gives a little shake of your throat; he’s barely applying any pressure, but your breath hitches anyway. 

“I know how much you like it, mijita. You like it so much it makes you feel wretched,” he murmurs, and you can’t argue with him. Even the condescending way he calls you ‘mijita’ does something inexplicable to you, sending heat rushing through your veins, scorching you from the inside out. 

“Fuck, Miguel-” you gasp out, your eyelashes fluttering closed. He could have you right here on the unforgiving bathroom counter and you’d only urge him on. Instead, he hauls you upright, steadying you when your knees nearly buckle under you, and kisses you again. His beard rasps against your skin, his tongue dips between your lips, and it all works in concert to make the ache in your core feel so overwhelming that you might cry. 

The two of you stumble towards the bedroom together, neither of you willing to break apart for long enough to find your way more easily. You manage to get Miguel’s shirt and undershirt off finally, and you feel immensely gratified by the soft groan you pull from him when you drag your nails down his chest. You stop at the foot of the bed, Miguel reaching behind you to try and find the zipper of your dress.

Part of you wants to tell him not to bother - with all the sounds of stitches ripping earlier, the delicate silk is probably beyond saving - but you take the opportunity while his hands are occupied to run your fingers through his dark curls. He’s always so put together for the rest of the world, but you adore messing with his hair; on rare occasions, he’ll let you comb your fingers through it while he rests his head in your lap. 

More stitches pop when Miguel finally gets the zipper undone and shoves your dress abruptly down your body, leaving it in an expensive pile on the floor as he focuses his attention on your bra. By the time he has you completely stripped, your chest is heaving as you try to catch your breath between kisses, your heart beating a rapid tattoo against your ribcage. 

“Bed,” he orders, even as he pushes you back onto the mattress. You do as you’re told, moving back until you reach the pillows and kicking the heavy duvet out of the way. Sitting with your back to the tufted headboard, you watch with hungry eyes as Miguel undresses the rest of the way. Your reaction to the sight and sound of him undoing his belt is practically Pavlovian; you can feel more slick pooling between your thighs as he does it. 

You drink in the sight of him greedily, eyes trailing over tanned skin and firm muscle. It’s a mutual act of voyeurism. He’s eyeing you predatorily, like he’s deciding on how best he wants to devour you. Neither of you takes your eyes off one another for a long moment, even as he moves to kneel on the bed at your feet. 

Miguel’s large hands cup your ankles first, his thumbs sweeping over the delicate jut of bone before sliding up your calves, your thighs, higher. You’re pliant for him, letting him open your legs so he can kneel between your thighs, so agonisingly close to where you want him most. It’s only as he spreads his hands over your hips that you realise what he’s looking at, and you squirm in discomfort. 

“Miguel, don’t-” you start, automatically trying to bring one of your hands down to cover your c-section scar. He ignores you, batting your hand away before grasping your hips again. His thumbs rub circles over your hipbones, just inches away from the scar you can’t stand. 

“Oh, mijita,” he murmurs, condescension creeping into his voice again. “This is Galindo territory. If I wanted to keep you in this bed until something stuck, I could.” As distractions go, it’s excellent. Your mind spins off in half a dozen directions at once. By the tone of his voice, you know he’s not referring to Santo Padre when he’s talking about territory. 

Whether he means either your bed or your body, you’ll gladly cede control to him like this. 

The feminist in you should feel ashamed at the way you crave his dominance and displays of strength, but you’d abandoned yourself to it years ago. He’d long since discovered that it was the perfect way to get you out of your own head. 

Miguel’s hands move up from your hips, coming to rest on either side of your head as he stretches his body out over yours. You wrap yourself around him eagerly, cradling his hips with your thighs and wrapping your arms around his broad torso so you can clutch at his back. The warm weight of him on top of you sends you squirming, seeking some sort of relief for your aching cunt. 

You surge forward and kiss him hard, whimpering against his mouth when you feel one of his hands slip between your bodies. He wraps his fingers around his cock, his knuckles brushing your slick folds and you flick your hips to try and chase the brief touch. 

“You’re so wet,” he manages, dragging the head of his cock through your slit. The feeling makes you wail, your cunt clenching pathetically around nothing. “I’m going to fuck you full, baby.” 

“God, do it, do it-” you gasp out, cutting yourself off with a sharp cry when he finally stops teasing and slides into you, burying himself to the hilt. Wet as you are, it’s still a stretch as he fills you, dragging you right back along that pleasure-pain knife edge. The two of you groan together when he bottoms out, your hands skittering along his back as you search for purchase and your eyes squeezing closed. 

Your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders when he pulls most of the way out, as though you can claw him back down to you. He doesn’t need the encouragement to sink back in again, but you swear you feel him pulse inside of you when you scratch your way down his back. Normally scratching at Miguel like that would get you punished, but he barely even falters as he starts to fuck you properly. 

Every hard thrust of his hips sends more heat licking through your veins, pleasure coiling so tightly in your belly that you can barely breathe. You can feel every low groan rumbling through Miguel’s chest as it escapes him. It’s impossible to tell where he ends and you begin, his cock pushing up against the very end of you. 

His hands, his huge hands that you love so much, settle on your waist and hold you tight so you don’t shift up the bed. The way he moves you so easily makes you feel helpless in the most thrilling, perverse way. He could crack you in two, and you’d only thank him for it. And now, with the weight of him on you and his grip on your waist, all you can do is lie there and take what he gives you. 

“Miguel-” His name escapes you as a pathetic little mewl between moans, and when you force your eyes open you nearly black out. He’s looking down at you with an intensity that makes you want to sob, a vivid reminder of the pleasure he took in trying to get you pregnant the first time. You’re agonisingly close to the edge, the muscles in your core cramping from being held taut for so long, and you try to shove one of your hands between your bodies. 

It doesn’t work. There’s not enough space between you, you can’t move Miguel’s solid chest enough to get room to slide your hand down, and you really do sob this time in frustration. 

“Miguel, please,” you manage, grabbing at one of his hands. “Please, please, I’m so close, I just need your fingers, please.” You’re in no state to eloquently ask for what you want; you’re surprised you can even recall your own name right now. You throw your head back in anticipation when Miguel takes your cue, his pace unchecked even as he slides his hand between you to find your clit. 

A ragged sound rips out of your mouth as he strokes your clit. There’s no technique to it, but it doesn’t matter; every pass of his fingers sends you spiralling higher, your body bearing down on him as you teeter on the brink. 

“Oh fuck.” Your voice sounds wrecked even to your own ears. “That’s it, ‘m so close, please Daddy, please Daddy-” you chant, until the tension in your belly suddenly snaps and sends you hurtling over the edge. Heat washes over your body, radiating out until you find yourself balling your fists and curling your toes at the intensity. 

Before you’ve even stopped trembling, Miguel’s hand finds your throat again and squeezes. It’s not enough pressure to cut your air off completely, but it’s enough to turn your moans into weak gasps. Your hands catch his wrist, urging him on, trying to get him to press tighter. You hope he leaves bruises. The sharp movements of his hips turn savage and he fucks you harder into the mattress as he presses down on your throat. You feel drunk on him, your head swimming as you try to clench down on him, to help him find his release the way he’d helped you. 

Miguel comes with a loud groan, his fingers tightening on your neck as he forces himself closer, trying to come as deeply in you as he can. The hand on your throat slackens, and you take a deep, gulping breath as you wait for your husband to come back to himself. His weight drops onto you as his muscles slacken and you wrap your arms around him. 

You let your eyes fall closed and run your fingers down his back, smiling to yourself when you feel him press kisses down your sternum. 

“Good girl,” he whispers against your breast as he pulls out of you, rolling off you and onto his side. You whine at the loss of him, still trying to catch your breath. It makes you jump when he touches your thigh unexpectedly, tugging it towards him. Still, you don’t bother to open your eyes until you feel his fingers at your cunt again. 

“Miguel-” you start, opening your eyes and looking down just in time to see him catch a drop of his come that had leaked out of you with his fingertip, and push it abruptly back into you. He must register the surprise on your face because he gives you that smug smile again. 

“You promised me that tonight was mine. Give Daddy half an hour and he’ll be able to go again, there’s my good girl,” he murmurs, half-dragging you into his arms. As much as you want to relax against his chest, you can’t help but pout up at him. It’s so casually condescending, but he had it right earlier; you like it so much, beyond all sense. Miguel notices the expression on your face, and the smirk on his face widens. 

“It’s not my fault you’re a terrible negotiator.” Miguel smooths your hair down and runs his hand down your back. You concede, letting yourself go boneless as he palms your ass, pressing you closer to him. “So smart, but so susceptible to my charms.” 

Taglist: @misscharlielulu, @avengersfan25

Poetry Translation: Mi patria está en tus ojos, yo camino por ellos, ellos dan luz al mundo por donde yo camino // My homeland is in your eyes, I walk through them, they light the world through which I walk.

[imagineredwood]

Summary: Miguel told you not to touch yourself until he got back from his meeting. You didn’t listen.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x reader

Warnings: Daddy kink. Contains sexual content. All parties are 18+. Bondage, mild degradation, talk of ownership, overstimulation

Word count: 2.4K

***I wasn’t panning on these being much over 1k but this one got away from me lmao 🥵 I’m sure y’all won’t mind.***

You hummed to yourself quietly as you ran your hands over your arms, the glittering bubbles fluffy and soft. The water was still nice as warm though not as hot as it had been in the beginning. You were enjoying it just as well though, your music playing softly in the bathroom. It was your birthday bath in the new tub since you and Miguel had remodeled the bathroom. He didn’t care all that much about it, but he knew how much you loved to be in there. To do your skincare, take long soaking baths, to have the room and supplied to pamper yourself in the privacy of your own home. Miguel had always been iffy about letting you go out to spas and as a result, you always had a guard with you. Having someone always there watching got in the way of you being able to relax and Miguel had come up with the idea as a compromise.

He would hire a contractor to turn the main bathroom in the master bedroom into a spa on its own.

And he had. A large tub with jets, an entire cabinet for your fanciest of skincare products that the hired esthetician would use for your facials when she came over. The shower doors sealed up to the top to create a sauna effect. It was like something out of a movie and you did not even want to think about how much it all cost. Miguel had hushed you when you asked.

“Don’t worry, corazón. Anything for my baby.”

He was supposed to be home early tonight, but something had come up and he had called to apologize. He would actually be late. That was not something new though and you had been ok with it, choosing to just take a nice long bath to pass the time. Now there you were, eyes closed as you soaked in the water. Your mind started to wander, thinking about how loved you felt by Miguel. How taken care of you were. How he was everything to you. Your husband, your protector, your lover, and now more recently, your Daddy. You hadn’t intended for it to happen really, it had just slipped out. You had been riding him, your knees on either side of his thighs, his length buried deep inside of you as his thumb rubbed at your clit bringing you to your third orgasm so far and it had just come out in the heat of the moment. He had faltered for a moment, hearing you call him something so new. Once his shock had dissipated though, you realized that you had unlocked a new side of him. His possessive, protective, and dominant nature could be funneled into taking on that role and he had done it with ease.

Your thighs started to squeeze together as you recalled other encounters then, seeking some form of stimulation. You thought about that time he had bent you over right on the kitchen counter, broad daylight and with all the blinds and curtains open. Or the time he had fingered you in the car on the way to a black-tie event. Or more recently when you had splurged on some lingerie and then had sent him picture after picture even though you knew he was in a meeting. You sighed, letting your thighs fall open as you laid in the crisp white tub.

Miguel had told you not to touch yourself today. He was going to have a surprise for you when he got home. You had listened the whole day and you had thought you would be able to make it. Now that your mind was consumed with those encounters though, you couldn’t help but drop your hand down between your legs. You still had three hours before he got home. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

You snuggled into your plush robe, the fabric ever so soft. You had an absent-minded smile on your lips as you slipped on your slippers and made your way out of the bathroom. You made the journey downstairs and to the kitchen, surprised to see Miguel already home, sitting on the couch with a stiff drink in his hand. He looked up as soon as he heard you coming down, that signature smile coming to his lips immediately. He swirled the contents of his Austrian crystal glass, eyes raking over your legs as they peaked out of your robe. He didn’t say anything just yet simply patting his lap twice. You sauntered over, Miguel unable to be drawn to the sway of your hips. You took your seat, your body sideways as you laid your legs over his lap. His free hand came up to rest on the small of your back, fingers scratching gently through the material. He looked up at you with pure adoration, eyes warm as ever.

“How’s my baby?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you grinned.

“I’m good. How was your meeting?”

Miguel dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, putting down his glass so that it was free to start sliding up and down your shins.

“Don’t worry about all that. How was yours?”

Miguel inquired and you filled him in, telling him about your day and how you had picked up dessert for after dinner. Miguel listened intently, hands sliding back and forth over your legs, strong hands squeezing and massaging as they moved along. He smiled when you finally finished and nodded, leaning to press his lips to yours.

“I already ordered dinner but it’s going to take over an hour to get here. How about Daddy gives you a massage?”

Your smile was happy, but on the inside, you were a little worried. You had not expected him to be back so soon. He had said a few hours. You had thought that your body would have time to relax and come down after your orgasms in the tub. As Miguel pushed you to stand and walked up to the bedroom with you though, you realized that you weren’t going to have much time to simmer at all.

Miguel grabbed hold of the tied bow on your robe, tugging at it until it fell open like a curtain, your breasts half visible. His hand was on your shoulder then, pushing it slowly until it exposed your breast. His touch was gentle as he stepped closer to you, the very tip of his finger grazing along the skin on the sensitive underside of your breast. You shuddered ever so slightly, goosebumps starting to show up in wake of the chill. He gave the robe another small push and it fell from one shoulder before he repeated the other. The fabric dropped to the floor in a heap and you had half the mind not to complain about it getting dirty. You were more worried about Miguel finding out that you hadn’t listened to his directions and had disobeyed, touching yourself without him there.

He was gentle with you, hands soft and kisses softer. He walked with you to the bed, only pulling his lips away from yours so he could have you lay down on your tummy. You laid flat and relaxed as much as you could. He started at your neck, squeezing and working out whatever tension was left. Then it was your shoulders, then your back and he worked his way down to your feet before venturing back up, his hands kneading the cheeks of your ass.

“Such a sight.”

You laughed lightly, wiggling your hips for him. That earned you a soft spank, a teasing one that was much gentler than the one you were likely to get within the hour no doubt. He had you turn over and you cursed internally knowing it was only a matter of time. Closing your eyes, you resigned to your fate and figured you might as well enjoy the rest of the massage.

His fingers skirted over your chest and arms, hands maintaining a certain level of professionalism as he only minorly touched your breasts. That thought went out the window as soon as he got to your abdomen. He rubbed along your mound with a gentler hand, pushing your legs apart just enough so he could place his hand over your pussy, cupping you. You dared to open your eyes and found his attention down below. He slipped a finger along your lips softly, grazing along the junction before he pushed his finger passed. The digit slipped between your lips and Miguel’s brows knitted before he looked at you. You sunk down into yourself some but kept your eyes on his. Trailing down, Miguel slid his finger further to your opening, finding you soaked and giving you the look.

“You didn’t listen, did you? You didn’t wait for me.”

Shaking your head quickly, you tried to lie your way out.

“It’s because of the massage.”

“Ah, ok.”

Miguel gave a cocky smile, one that called you out without even using words. A man like Miguel was not easily fooled. He did not argue, simply kept his eyes trained on yours.

“So, I guess it wouldn’t matter if I just,”

He traveled up some and firmly pressed his finger to your clit. It didn’t matter how hard you tried to stop it, your body instinctively jolted, the small pearl far too sensitive for Miguel’s heavy hand. He nodded as he looked at you.

“Hmm. Seems like someone didn’t follow directions.”

His touch was gone then and so was his body, the powerful man standing from the bed and pointing to The Box. It was a simple wooden chest at the foot of your lavish bed, and one might think it was simply there for decor or storage of sheets. How wrong they would be.

You swallowed and sat up, climbing off the bed yourself and reaching under the mattress to grab the key before unlocking the Box and pushing it open. The act was foreign. One of Miguel’s rules was that you were not to go into The Box. Only he was. Now he was having you retrieve the toys and the thought both excited and frightened you. Miguel stood there off to the side, presence commanding, his forearms flexing with his sleeves rolled up.

“Ropes.”

Reaching in, you grabbed the pink ropes that were wrapped up neatly and placed them on the bed.

“Gag.”

You grabbed the gag as well, looking over the pretty silver heart that went in your mouth before placing it beside the ropes.

“Wand.”

You shuddered slightly. You had not had the wand used on you in a minute but the trembling orgasms that came with begs and tears were a memory that you would never forget. Grabbing the wand, you pulled it out and placed it beside the other items, waiting for your next command. Miguel did not say anything, simply pointed to the bed. You followed his instruction, not daring to be bratty at a time like this.

You climbed on and laid flat as Miguel grabbed the ropes, undoing them.

“Knees up.”

Pulling your legs up, you placed your knees as close to your chest as you could, Miguel wasting no time in skillfully wrapping them up. Soon enough your thighs were bonded spread open to where you didn’t have to hold them anymore. Miguel made sure to give you a little bit of wiggle room, but it was still snug and you knew the impression of the ropes would be visible long after he was done with you. Next, he handed you the wand and pointed at your already sensitive clit.

“Hold it there.”

You did as you were told, thinking that that was the end of it and were horrified when he grabbed the next line of ropes and began to bond the wand to your hands so that you couldn’t let it go. Your eyes snapped up to him and you opened your mouth, ready to plead.

“Wait, Daddy…”

“Not another fucking word.”

His voice was firm and left no room for argument, so you settled, bottom lip pouted in worry. He finished bonding your wrists and forearms, and then went into the box, grabbing the rope cutter and setting it down right on top of the nightstand. He looked at you and gave one nod, the sight of the tool calming you some. He stripped then, no sensuality in it. He was just shedding his clothing so that he could climb on and kneel at the bottom of the bed. He grabbed a pillow, folding it and lifted you slightly, sliding the pillow under your butt. It raised your hips just enough to grant him even easier access and he growled as he looked down at you, the lips of your pussy glistening. He took himself in his hand and rubbed the head of his cock over you, up and down before prodding at and slipping into your opening.

You gasped while he growled, shuddering at the feeling of your warm vice. He pulled out once before pushing back in, repeating a few times before starting to pick up a rhythm. You were tempted to remind him about the gag but considering the torture you were in for, you conveniently also forgot. Reaching forward, Miguel flipped the switch on the wand, making sure to nuzzle it in just a little further. Your back arched slightly but the ropes prevented much movement. You tossed your head back though, your clit far too sensitive for the vibrations. Miguel did not take pity on you though, simply fucking you harder as he looked down at you.

“Oh, look at the little baby. All selfish when she was alone and now, she can’t handle it.”

He let one hand grip your hip, giving him leverage while the other pressed the wand against your clit even harder. He laughed out loud at your cry, your breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You could barely see straight and Miguel was living for it. Feeling extra mean after being disobeyed, he reached for the switch and flipped it up once more to the highest setting. He couldn’t help but curse as your walls squeezed him, his hips pounding into you now. He chuckled darkly as you thrashed around, hands on your hips to keep you in place.

“That’s what happens when you decide to touch that pussy when I told you no. Whose pussy is this huh? Who does it belong to?”

It took you a moment to find your voice and when you did, it was choked and shaky.

“Yours! It’s yours! I’m sorry!”

His eyes were sharp as they started at you. He let you suffer a few more seconds before offering a compromise.

“Come one more time and then I’ll shut it off. And don’t you dare try to fake it.”

 SDOD taglist @justahopelessssromantic​ @dazzledamazon​ @lightinthedarkuniverse @emoengelfurleben​ @scribbuluswrites​ @woahitslucyylu​ @glimmerglittergirl​ @lunapiper @teamcardenas​ @robbosugdens​ @that-chick212​ @browngirldominion​ @dreamsxoxous​ @docsangel​ @rosabellablood​ @spiced-reads

[putas-in-suffering]

Miguel Galindo put a baby in me challenge🤰🏾

No challenge here, mama. Not with that Ivy League nectar and immaculate dick game 🤗

[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies.  Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes. 

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea.  Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to  figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip. 

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Tags:

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@superhoeva @memeaaaa @djconde58

[thatesqcrush]

I’m sorry, we all know I am a thirsty hoe for Raúl but can we talk about Danny? Because what in the actual fuck. Can we bring Amaro back? Because HELLO.

[miguelsbrat]