I need a Reader who just has to rawdog it through life.
No caffeine, regulated sugar, no alcohol, no tobacco, no energy drinks, no milk, no cheese, no gluten.
Reader who has Pica, Reader who works a night shift and yet has insomnia, so they are just constantly tired. Reader who has problems walking, Reader with a lazy eye, reader with ‘unattractive’ features.
Reader with mobility devices who still push their limits to improve. Med student Reader who can’t find a job to support it. Broke Reader being screwed over by their debt, Reader with albinism, black Reader having the paper bag test done to them at work, asian Reader influencer having to deal with the white men in their comments.
Biracial Reader struggling to choose an identity when the world chooses it for you, specifically a non black mixed Reader. Like Indian reader mixed with Japanese, who’s skin doesn’t match the projected image, and yet is too far away from their other culture.
Disordered eater Reader who staves themselves all day only to binge eat when they can’t take it. Disordered eater Reader who works out too much and yet forgets to eat.
Scarred Reader who is not the romantic stereotype, who looks deformed by their scars. Burned Reader struggling to be treated as human after their mutilation. Amputee Reader struggling to relearn their body.
Curly-haired Reader wishing to have straight hair and straight-haired Reader wishing to have curls.
A Reader who covers their freckles, and a Reader who paints them. A masc-looking Fem!Reader who struggles to wear feminine clothes, fem-looking Male!Reader struggling to look masculine!
Give me a Reader with too many siblings, who isn’t the oldest, and is lost in the middle! A Reader who daydreams the day away, who draws cringe OCs and cries when their favorite character dies!
A Reader who’s too empathetic, a Reader who’s too apathetic! A Reader who’s overwhelmed with parenting, a Reader trying to reparent themselves after being raised a brat. An high-functioning autistic Reader who tries to validate their experiences. A high-needs autistic Reader who uses a robotic voice to communicate (I forgot what it’s called 😞) and yet is still chatty and funny!
A Reader who is afraid of stupid things, a narcoleptic Reader who finds everything funny. A Reader with no humor, a Reader who’s working off weight. And I’m not talking no ‘140 lbs(63.503kg) to 80lbs(36.287kg) 🤩!’ type Y/N build. I’m talking overweight Reader deciding (FOR THEMSELVES!!!!!) that they want to loose a couple pounds. I want a bodybuilder chubby Reader who can lift over 300 lbs (136 kg).
I need a nerdy BL lover Reader, who spends all their money on their Gacha games. Weirdo Reader, who knows more people online than real life. Creepy Reader who watches analog horror to make theories.
Perv Reader who’s usual reads is smut, who’s favorite authors are dark romance. Where’s the crime loving Readers, who yumeship themselves with criminals. Where’s the other side of crime loving Reader, who spends hours working to the sound of crime podcasts. Digital artist Reader, who draws to the sounds of body-cams and celebrates in their room when the bad guy gets caught.
Niche fandom Reader who makes their own merch, dedicated to a dead fandom like it’s their legacy. AO3 author Reader who’s iconic throughout the fandom. (Like Jabsartt, or the Mirrors fic)
WE NEED READERS WHO WE CAN RELATE TO!! NO PLAIN Y/N, GIVE THEM SOME SPICEEE!!! MAKE THEM CREEPY WEIRDOS WHO CAN’T RELATE TO NORMAL PEOPLE!!
aka I just want a weirdo reader. Not even just that, but that was the OG intent. Make them relatable people. Make them fat. Not even chubby, give them elbow meat and make them have big faces. Make them weak and slow, make them desperate, make them relatable. Make their lives shit, make them feel inferior, build them back up into a new person. Make them spontaneous, put yourself in there, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
And for goodness sake, please don’t make the default white. Write your own experiences into them, how would you react, not some perfect doll. Don’t be afraid of the cringe that might come from writing Readers of different colors and race, just stay away from the stereotypes. You can even look up how to write different races or read experiences from the people of that race you’re basing it off of. Don’t make white the default. As a white person.
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Omg I just discovered your 141 imagines and I’m addicted! I’ve been scrolling for miles. Could I request a throw back for the One Bed trope with Alejandro or Rudy?
Or? Or? Babes. Anon. You're getting both. Can't dangle those two beautiful men in front of me and ask me to choose. That's cruel (it's not I'm just being dramatic.) Please enjoy the smut. :)
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Alejandro Vargas & Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra x Female Reader (reader is Mexican)
Content & Warnings (mdni): oral sex, unprotected piv, creampie, mention of trafficking, prior trauma, past relationships, rough sex, coworkers that fuck
Word Count: 2k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Alejandro Vargas
Dampness sticks to your skin. Moisture blooms on the aged concrete walls. Distantly, you hear water dripping, slow and steady like a leaky faucet.
“It’s not much,” comes Alejandro’s voice as he enters the small room. “But you’re safe here.”
Here is a hole in the ground, just a rotten board covering a metal door in the earth, and a ladder leading to semi-darkness. The safe house Alejandro brought you to is completely remote, a sanctuary from the fallout following the assassination of the leader of the region’s cartel. A murder you helped execute with your red-painted lips.
Small and cramped, the lone room in the underground safehouse is sparse. There’s a worn mattress on a metal frame with a few blankets piled in the middle. In the corner is a faded wood bookcase minus a shelf and smelling of rot.
It’s only a few days.
Alejandro coughs, your gaze shifting from the bookcase to him.
“They don’t know it’s me?” you ask, voice cracking.
Alejandro’s mouth twitches. “Have a shower.” He jerks his head to the right. “Through that door.”
Frowning, you step forward. Alejandro shifts back as you peer out in the short hall. There’s a ladder, and two doors, one of which stands open. From it, you can just make out the edge of a cracked sink.
“Down here?”
Alejandro inclines his head. “Runs on a hand pump. Water won’t be warm. But it’ll do the job.” He reaches out, almost absently, lightly cradling your check. Gaze roaming, your savior frowns. “You’ll want the blood off you.”
Clarity comes, your arm rising, hand pressing to the front of your dress. It crackles and crunches, thick and hardened with blood. Not yours, but of the man that kept you, showed you off when his wife and kids weren’t around. Men with power love to parade their pretty things. Now, he’s composed of rotting flesh and splattered brain matter.
Alejandro’s hand drops to your elbow, “I’ll find you some clean clothes.”
Robotically nodding, you shuffle toward the bathroom. There’s a toilet, the cracked sink with a matching cracked mirror, and shower that’s just a off-pale green curtain, a showerhead, and a drain in the floor.
You don’t shut the door, stripping in full view, turning the crank in the wall. Behind the wall, a pipe rattles, and then clear cold water bursts from the showerhead. It pebbles your nipples, brings a shiver to your skin, but it’s washing away the blood, softening it until is runs down your body and circles the drain.
“I’ve brought—”
Alejandro’s voice falters. You glance over your shoulder, finding him standing in the doorway, gaze averted from your naked body. Too focused on removing the blood, you never shut the curtain.
He clears his throat. “Found a towel. Clean clothes.” Failing, Alejandro’s gaze shifts to your body, works his way up until he meets your eyes. Your savior glances away again. “Have a few storage boxes,” he explains, as if you wanted to know where he found them. “Smell a bit musty.”
“Thank you,” you murmur, reaching for the offered towel as the water sputters out.
Alejandro walks in, bringing the towel closer. He stands there, stoic and observing, watching as you dry yourself and dress. The clothes don’t fit, too large, but it’ll do. It’s better than the blood.
“I’ll take the floor,” says Alejandro, backing away.
“No,” you say quickly, darting forward without thought, grasping Alejandro’s wrist.
He’s surprised as you, lips parting slightly as he takes you in. This isn’t a man you’ve just met. For months, Alejandro sought you out, stalking your every step, emerging from the shadows when prying eyes were absent. Always flirting, always insisting, negotiating to the point of exasperation. Fear came first, for your life and his, but you were never caught, not even gossiped about.
His favored would never. Not the gorgeous thing that sat in his lap. That spent more time with him than his wife and kids. That never had a choice to begin with because you don’t say no when a drug kingpin offers to pay for your abuela’s cancer treatment in exchange for being his mistress. The monster that paraded you in front of his men, fucked you in front of them, enjoyed coming inside you without birth control but never liked when you ended up pregnant. Those always had to go away. Can’t have bastard children running around.
Alejandro whispers your name the same way he did when he dragged you from the slaughterhouse. Bullets flew. Blood sprayed. You, curled up on the ground, crying. And then Alejandro, wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up and away.
“I don’t bite,” you smile.
Alejandro chuckles, the corner of his mouth quirking. “That’s a shame.”
Your stomach flips, squeezes. This is the Alejandro who pursued you, gained your trust, and helped you escape. The one who flirted with you, the man you eagerly awaited until his next appearance. Alone with him, hidden in this bunker, you’ve never felt safer.
“Alejandro,” you murmur, breathy and soft.
You place your hands on his chest, the rough fabric of his uniform scratching against your skin. Pressing in, you keep your gaze low and demure, focusing on a small strap near your right hand, toying with it but not loosening.
“We shouldn’t,” he rasps, needy.
His tone goes straight to your pussy. After meeting Alejandro, you thought of him during sex, picturing him over you, his hands on your body. It’s the only way you could show desire or orgasm, pretend that you were even remotely interested in the man paying for your abuela’s cancer treatment.
“But you want to,” you say, tugging on the strap. “And I want to.”
Let you choose this for yourself. Have some control for once.
Temptation is easy. Alejandro needs no more convincing.
He grasps the back of your neck, banishing separation. One arm snakes around your back, and your hands slide up to lock behind him. Months of tension evaporate in a second, morphing into desperation. Fresh clothes forgotten, Alejandro yanks them off you, baring your body. He drops to his knees, kissing your stomach and hips, spreading your thighs with his hand, placing kisses there, too, only to part your pussy with his fingers and give your clit a little lick.
Eyes rolling back, you fist his hair, hips arching upward into his mouth. Alejandro’s hands grasp your ass. The world tilts and you’re on your back, the worn mattress beneath you, and Alejandro’s head buried between your thighs.
Toes curling, everything in you sharpens. A hard swirl of his tongue and you’re already falling apart, choking out a sob. Years of faking it and the real thing slams you into the floor, crushing you under its fist.
“Wanted to be here forever,” groans Alejandro, lightly biting your inner thigh. He turns his head, bites the other, licks a slow line up your pussy. “Worth the fucking wait.”
Alejandro pushes up and over you, pinning you to the bed. Your mouths connect, tasting yourself and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. Still in uniform, Alejandro is ceaseless, starved for your kisses, claiming you like he’s always owned you.
You spread your legs wider, reaching between your bodies. A large bulge meets your palm. Alejandro’s hips flex, rubbing his erection against your hand. Hunger chews beneath your skin in urgent need, wanting out, wanting Alejandro in. In similar desire, Alejandro places his hand over yours briefly before yanking at his zipper and button.
“Keep the uniform on,” you gasp, helping in easing his pants open, to admire the way his cock slides out, bouncing slightly as it’s released.
A haggard groan leaves his lips, dripping like honey as you explore him. He’s heavy and thick in your hand, warm and throbbing. Your legs fall wider, heels hooking behind his thighs to guide him forward. Alejandro’s forehead dips to rest against your own, his gaze glued to your face, watching every little movement, every expression.
You guide him in, heels digging, urging him deeper.
“I was always there,” he rasps, rocking his hips slowly, his cock slowly dragging in and out of your pussy. “Never alone.” His thrusts slowly increase. “You were never alone.”
The next thrust is hard. You gasp, lips parting. Alejandro smiles, cheeky and soft, still gazing into your eyes as you come undone.
Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Rudy’s heart is a bent branch close to snapping.
On the other side of the bed, the only bed, you unclip straps, removing gun holster and knives until you’re down to just your clothes. Rudy does the same but his fingers are sweaty, his gaze busy watching your slow removal, as if he’s not in the room at all.
He clears his throat, and you turn. “I can sleep in the chair,” he says flatly because it’s the only restraint he has.
You glance at the off-red armchair in the corner. “The cuck chair?”
“There’s only one bed.”
You arch an eyebrow. “That a problem?”
“Don’t start,” he breathes, removing his gun, checking the safety. If he unloads and loads and unloads it’ll keep him busy and not looking at you.
“Rudy.”
“Sergeant Major,” he corrects.
There needs to be distance. Alejandro did this on purpose, shoved the two of you together because he keeps asking why the two of you aren’t a thing anymore.
“Sergeant Major,” you repeat, softly, enunciating. Rudy surrenders, looking your way, only to find you topless, breasts on display. “My apologies.”
He glances away quickly, the back of his neck flaming. “How’s Rose?”
“Rose?” you snort. In his peripheral, you bend, removing your pants. You’re not wearing underwear. “On first name basis now?”
Rudy inhales sharply, exhaling slowly. “Your mother. How is she?”
“She asks about you. Wants to know why I’m not bringing that handsome man around anymore. She thinks I did something to run you off.” Rudy remains silent. “Did I?”
“No,” he finally says, removing his jacket and then his shirt.
You’re completely naked now and on display, not caring to cover yourself up. Rudy can’t help it, his dick is hard and throbbing, his mind racing toward old memories of you begging for him to fuck you.
“You shower first,” he grunts, undoing his belt buckle.
“There’s room for two.”
Rudy curses and turns on you, ready to swat the idea aside. Words escape him, leaving him stranded and staring, lips parting as he takes in the full view of you, and how you saunter closer.
Reaching for his buckle, you slide the belt from of the loops, dropping it the floor. “Or we can go to bed. Shower in the morning.”
Absently, he drags his fingers over your shoulder and down your arm, trailing back up to rest his hand between your breasts. Your heartbeat upticks, chest heaving slightly with anticipation. The feeling grows. Become bright and hot and red.
Grasping the backs of your thighs, Rudy lifts and dumps you onto the bed, following after. Pinning one leg to the bed with his hand, he lifts the other, locking it against him, your foot in the air. Rudy doesn’t need to touch to know how wet you are.
“How long were you thinking about me?” he growls, control slipping.
You fist the sheets, tilting your hips to give him better access. “The whole time,” you admit.
Rudy shouldn’t, but he does.
You welcome him without resistance. There’s no softness in him, only carnal need. He thrusts, your body bouncing but unable to go anywhere. His hold is powerful, vice-like. Rudy needs to fuck you, hard.
Head falling back, you moan, the end strangled as your pussy squeezes him. Rudy releases your thigh to palm one breast, teasing the nipple between his fingers.
“Tell your mamá she’ll see that handsome man again.”
Your lips form the start of words. Rudy silences them, crushes it into dust in the air. He brings your legs together, turning you onto your side. Bracing himself with his hands flat on the bed, his thrusts quicken. Your hand comes around his throat. Squeezes.
a/n: i messed up the date on the second ss, its supposed to be January 15
JANUARY 15— 1:51 PM
You were currently sitting in your office, doing nothing but trying to brainstorm some new ideas on what to post for your youtube. You have been feeling a bit burnt out, feeling as if every single unique idea has oozed out of your brain and formed a puddle of mush at the bottom of your feet. Uninspired, dull, and discouraged were some simple adjectives to put into perspective of your current feelings.
It felt as if your thoughts were the same as watching paint dry; boring, repetitive, and expected. Sighing, you grabbed your phone to scroll on whatever social media you want to pick to at least give yourself a sort of a brain break. That was until you noticed a new notification on your phone.
You felt nervous weirdly enough. This would be your first time even agreeing to collaborate with someone else and it's an all time new for you. You and Quen have been following each other for quite some time. You guys never texted, only comments left on each other posts was the farthest you've ever done. Even though this was an all-time new for you, pushing and challenging boundaries, you felt kinda glad this chance landed itself on your lap.
New opportunities dont come by every day, so you had to take this one.
Even though you don't know her, you can clearly tell she's a genuine person. Through this short interaction, you already felt so much better.
JANUARY 17— 7:30 AM
Today was the day you are going over Quen's to film for her youtube. You were excited and anxious at the same time. Quen sent you her address a bit ago after you both agreed on a time for you to get there. She lived around 2 hours max away from you, so you decided to leave a bit early to beat traffic. You both had decided to meet at 10:40 am as it was a good time for you and Quen.
Grabbing your keys, jacket, bag, and whatever necessities needed, you left your apartment and started heading towards your car. You started your car, hearing your engine roar into power, as you sat in the driver's seat. You had a Nissan 350z, one of your dream cars from youth that you were able to buy at a good price a couple years back. It had a black glossy exterior shining brightly and a matching black and red interior. Though you had one of your dream cars, your true dream car was a 1965 Ford Mustang.
Getting comfortable in your seat, you connect your phone to the aux to start playing your spotify playlist. The first song that came up was dive in by pierce the veil, one of your favorite songs. Singing along, you finally pulled out of the parking lot and headed your way toward Quen's address.
Traffic was quite forgiving today, as surprising as it is. It was a decently long drive but you felt glad that there was no heavy traffic on your way to Quen. Glad that you slept a bit longer yesterday, you were nearing her house and you can already tell its gorgeous.
it was a modern house, still, you can see Quen's personality seeping through.
Sending her a quick message about your arrival, you quickly found an empty parking space and parked. Grabbing your items, you made your way to her house.
It was cute, with pretty greenery outside, giving the house some personality. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt your nerves at an all-time max even though you knew that Quen was a nice and chill person. You felt your hands get clammy so you quickly wiped your hands on your pants. But as soon as you reached her doorstep, the door flew right open.
She yelled your name with a huge grin, quickly catching you in a hug.
"HEYYY! You're literally so much more gorgeous in person that I think I'm already in love with you", Quen said
You laugh, your smile matching hers "I think I should get on one knee already, I already love you."
You both laugh, she quickly moves out of the way and welcomes you in. The inside of her house was cute, with some nice vintage furniture and random pops of color here and there that highlighted her personality. There were silly pictures on the walls of her with friends or family, each sharing a big smile on their face. Seeing those photos puts a smile on your face.
"So, our set is all ready, I have all the cameras and audio prepared with the kitchen already set up with everything we need to cook. Do you want to start right now or do you want to relax for a bit, I know that you mentioned your car ride was pretty long." She said, moving her hands as she spoke. It seemed that was a habit of hers.
"I'm fine with recording right away" She nodded as she made her way to the kitchen with you following behind.
Once you made it to the kitchen, you saw how big it was. It was huge with white walls, wooden shelves with plants, and an assortment of tiny and cute decorations on them, the shelves were a nice shade of light gray that complemented well with the marble countertops. The ingredients needed lied on the countertops ready for use and the rest of the room was filled with cameras, lights, microphones, and people.
"Okay, so everything is set up as I said, my crews are here to make sure the audio is working and they're making sure the camera is good and shit." She was pointing at her crew and naming them, with them waving at you and you waving back with a smile.
Nodding, she continued, "We can start in 5, I'll do the intro and introduce you and what we're gonna do and will continue from there. You feeling alright? I know its your first collab and I would feel hella anxious if I was you right now."
"Okay that sounds good but yeah I feel a bit anxious right now, but I'll feel better as we film though, thanks for checking in." She nods, signaling her crew to get ready for filming as they all start their checking on the filming gear.
As soon as you knew it, 5 minutes had passed and filming started.
Quen positions herself in the middle of the kitchen island, arms stretched out. The person with the camera zoomed in into her as she began speaking, "Hey guys, welcome to this next episode of feeding starving celebrities, and today's guest is... Pierce the y/n!!!!" She yelled excitedly, with a huge smile on her face.
She raised her hands, signaling for the camera to pan to you. You smiled at her, your smile matching hers as you waved at the camera.
"hi"
"Okay so while she trying to act nonchalant, today I have a fat stack of questions to ask her while we make her favorite dishes. Any guesses on what were making?" She turned to you, waiting for your response.
"Umm... based on what ingredients are out, are we making sopes maybe? Hmmm, maybe agua de horchata too?" Your face was curious, hands on hips as you took a look at the variety of ingredients covering her marble counters.
"Okay, I see you!! You basically got it right but were also making jericallas, I know you're from Guadalajara and that's a very popular dessert there and you mentioned it as your favorite before. Sooo, that will be the menu for today! Lets hope and pray we don't burn down the kitchen!"
"Damn, you really did pull a Nardwuar on me, am I in one of his interviews?? Cut the cameras." You grin, successfully feeling less nervous.
She laughs, "Anyways, let's not expose my secrets. So we're gonna start with the sopes. I have the the masa, beans, meat, lettuce, cheese, and the cream." Nodding in confirmation, she continues.
"SO, step one, we mix the masa harina with salt and water," She says, grabbing the Maseca corn flour from behind her as well with the salt. "According to my directions, not really mine but from this website but let's pretend it's my recipe, we need 2 cups masa harina, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1 1/4 cups of water."
As Quen goes to fill a measuring cup with the needed amount of water, you grab a bowl big enough to mix the ingredients and start to pour out the needed measures of both the salt and flour. Pouring them into the bowl, Quen comes back with the needed water.
"Okay, so now, we pour the water in and mix with our hands. Do you wanna do that or do I do it?" She asks you.
"I got it, can you pour the water in though?"
She nods, pouring half of the water into the bowl so you can start mixing. Slowly, it starts becoming into the dough as Quen pours the rest into it. As you continue to mix it, you see Quen reach for her questions.
"So y/n, question numero uno is - wait actually its not really a question more of a statement. Anyways...", she looks into the second camera, giving it a mischievous glance that you didn't notice. "Look at this photo for me and tell me what you think about it. Does it trigger any feelings or memories?"
As you glance up from the bowl, Quen shows you the big notecard with her question written on it, but instead of a question, there's a photo.
"Oh my god" your jaw drops, "how the fuck did you find my middle school graduation photo. Dude... I swear to god do I need to put myself under witness protection, like I'm fearing for my life right now how did you actually find that. This is like lost footage." You start looking around as if you were being watched to further add to your bit.
Quen laughs loudly, doubling over as she shows the camera your middle school graduation photo. You had a heavy side bang, a terrible sense of fashion as if you just walked out of hot topic and Spencer at the same time, and heavy eyeliner.
"Dude, like seriously, I don't know how I was allowed to walk out of my house looking like that. I still feel the eyeliner in my eyes from the amount of times I messed up my eyeliner and ended up poking my eyes."
"STOP, you do NOT look that bad queen, man, have you seen how I looked like when I was doing Vine?" You laugh along with Quen, still wondering how she even got that photo.
"Dude this is actually insane, I was expecting some icebreaker type of questions but instead we just dove straight into it??? Oh my god. This is making me nervous for the rest of my questions."
The rest of the time goes on well, Quen asks some questions here and there while you both continue making the sopes. It was going pretty good, you started to cook the beans to place onto the cooked sopes while Quen started to work on the agua de horchata.
As you finished heating up the beans while Quen was talking to you, she suddenly cut herself off her sentence.
"You know what song has been stuck in my head as of recently?" You hum, asking her to continue as you started to spread the beans on each sope. "You know the song with Jorjiana and GloRilla? ILBB2?"
"Yeah, I've heard of it"
"So, the part thats stuck in my head is the one that goes like" Quen clears her throat, "They say shooters shoot... Duke Dennis, whats up with you?"
Before you can reply, she hits you with another line.
"SO WHO YOU TRYNNA SHOOT AT? WHOS YOUR YOUTUBE CRUSH??" She squeals, showing off her card with her question reading "who’s your youtube crush", pride evident on her face at how smoothly she was able to ask this.
Most people wouldve dodged the question, claiming it to be too risky for them to answer or either they were too scared to answer it. They would've played it cool, given a safe answer.
But you? You doubled down.
So, with all the confidence you could muster, you leaned over the kitchen counter, looking deadstraight into the camera in font of you, and said, "Hamzah, whats up with you?"
Quen lost her mind, squealing as she look at you in disbelief.
She yelled your name, "HAMZAH? As in hamzahthefantastic? The guy who's a part of slushy noobz?" Her eyes were wide as you nodded to her question.
"Girl I strive to be as bold as you, but as much as I strive to be as bold as you, I pray for you as well cause damn, may those fan girls not release their wrath on you."
"Anyways, back on topic, how do you know about Hamzah?" Quen asks you as she starts to drain the horchata she made in the blender into a pitcher, making sure to strain it.
You were finishing up the toppings on each sope, veggies, Oaxaca cheese, and crema. "I've seen some clips of both Martin and Hamzah on tik tok. I like them both, they're funny and seem like genuine people. I've seen Hamzah though and just thought he was cute, especially when he wasn't bald but he's still cute without hair." You shrug as Quen laughs.
The rest of the video goes well, you both finished making the sopes and horchata and moved on to making the jericallas which were simple enough and easier with two people. Quen kept on asking you questions with you answered them, you both were a good duo.
Laughs and screams were shared between you both as you conversed, your face hurt with how much you were smiling all throughout the hour and more of filming.
You finally finished making all the food and tried it together. It was really good in your opinion and Quens. Finally filming the outro and everything needed, at around 12:50 you were done with filming and cleaning up everything.
Since it was still bright out, you and Quen decided to hang out since both of your schedules were empty. It was a great night, full of laughter and meaningful conversations. Your bond with Quen was strong and you were glad you accepted her collaboration.
You had gotten home at 7:46 PM, finally worn out with all the action that you just headed straight into the shower and took a very deserved hot shower. You successfully ended your day at 10:26 PM and decided to treat yourself to early sleep.
Summary: Per Mexican tradition, Y/N makes an altar for her family members that passed away. She added Charles’s family members as well
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, death, inaccuracies
A/N: This was the first time I put up an ofrenda and since today is Day of the Dead, it’s fitting
The best thing about dating a Formula 1 driver is the traveling. Y/N joined Charles in all his races, mainly because she is able to work from home as an event planner. So when they were in Mexico City for the Grand Prix, she bought papel picado, sugar skulls, and little dog alebrijes. Now that they are in Brazil, Y/N bought candles, a table cloth, marigolds, and printed out photos to set up the altar.
Y/N made it back to the hotel while Charles was in the track for free practice. She placed the table cloth over the hotel room desk, added the papel picado and marigold before placing the photos in the place card holder. There was one of her aunt that died from cancer, her grandpa that died of old age, Jules, and Hervé. Onces the little altar was set up exactly how she wanted it, she placed the candles near their photos and added the sugar skulls and alebrijes wherever there was an empty space.
Though Y/N wasn’t in Mexico anymore, there are Mexican restaurants in Brazil and she ordered her aunt’s and grandpa’s favorite food plus pan de muerto to have it delivered to the hotel. There was a knock on the door and when Y/N opened it, expecting to see a hotel employee with Mexican food, she saw her boyfriend.
“Muñeco, i thought you would still be in the track.” Y/N said, charles leaned in and kissed Y/N on the cheek before walking into their hotel room.
“We finished, what’s all this?” Charles asked, pointing to the table.
“Right. Well, today is day of the dead and usually I’m in my apartment to make this ofrenda but now I’m dating you so I brought the ofrenda with me.” Y/N explained but Charles looked confused. “Um, it’s an altar, it’s a way to honor my dead relatives and welcome their spirits to our home. I usually go all out but this is a hotel room and I don’t want the fire alarm to go off.” Y/N explained and Charles looked closer at the ofrenda and saw a picture of Jules and another one of his father.
“You put them up?” Charles asked in a whisper, he felt his eyes getting teary, picking up the photo of him and his dad.
“I know you miss them a lot, everything you are doing in formula 1 in for them, I thought it would be nice to add them to the ofrenda. I know this isn’t really your tradition but it’s mine and I want to share it with you.” Y/N said softly, Charles looked at her and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you, Mon ange, that is very sweet of you, really.” Charles said.
“Um, it’s tradition to add their favorite food on the altar. I ordered some Mexican for my aunt and grandpa, what did Jules and your dad like to eat?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could get it here but they liked…” Charles told Y/N their favorite foods.
“I’m sure we could order it from somewhere.” Y/N said. There was a knock and Y/N opened the door, it was the food she ordered. She got the food and gave the man a tip before walking back to Charles. “We also have this bread that’s called pan de muerto, we place it on the ofrenda too.”
“I’m sure they would enjoy the bread.” Charles said smiling. He opened the bag to help Y/N place the bread on the table. “So when we were is Mexico and you told me you were shopping, you were preparing for this?”
“Of course! I’m still Mexican, Muñeco, my tradition won’t change because I’m in another country.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. Y/N placed the food in front of her aunt’s and grandpa’s picture.
“Maybe next year you can put up the ofrenda in my place.” Charles said.
“You mean that?” Y/N asked.
“I do, we haven’t been dating long but I feel very happy with you, happier than I have been in a long time.” Charles said before he kissed Y/N softly.
“I feel happy with you too. Oh, do you want some bread? It’s really good.” Y/N said, grabbing a loaf (?) and offering it to charles.
“Sure.” Charles said, tearing off of a piece of bread to taste. He hummed in content. “This is really good, do they sell this a lot on Mexico for day of the dead?”
“Yes they do, Mexican bread is the best.” Y/N said,
“I Can tell. I’m going to send a picture of the altar to my mom, is that okay?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” Y/N said and Charles took a picture of the altar, making sure Pascale could clearly see his dad and Jules. He sent it to his mom and got a response in 2 minutes.
“My mom said it’s very sweet and considerate of you to add my dad and Jules.” Charles said.
“I May not have met them but I know how much they mean to you, I couldn’t leave them out.” Y/N said, looking down all shy. Charles brought his his finger under her chin to make her look at him,
“I love you so much, thank you for this.” Charles said before kissing her deeply.
“Don’t mention it.” Y/N said as soon as they separated from the kiss. They hugged each other. “I think we should watch Coco.” Charles laughed at her suggestion. “Well how else are you supposed to get the day of the dead?”
“Fine, let’s see if you can connect you phone to the hotel TV.” Charles said.
And that’s how they spent Día de Muertos, watching Coco on Disney plus and eating pan de muerto.
warnings: mention of fainting,reader described as feminine,mentions of hooking up, hat rule
dual pov: Alicia/Jack
word count: 1.1k
You had the night off and were going to go to a rodeo with some friends. But right before you leave your friend Alondra passes out and you have to bring her to PTMC.
Abbot wasn’t expecting you to come in since you had the night off as you've been bragging since your last shift together. Imagine the shock on your face when he sees you walking in the ambulance bay wearing boots and a cowboy hat on.
“Abbot you need a hobby, seriously you can't be here all the time.” Dana said to him while he was sitting at a computer charting his patients medications. To be fair he was a couple hours early for his shift but it didn't matter. He couldn’t sleep and he truly had nothing else to do. So he thought why not go back to work?
“Ive got a shelf that could use fixing if your up for it Jack.” She says looking down at the iPad in her hand.
“You know what, I might just take you up on that offer Dana.” He says finally finishing up his notes and sitting up from his chair. “Well not now cause we’ve got an incoming trauma 2 minutes out.” Dana said, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
As if right on cue paramedics come in with a woman on a gurney and- Is that you? “Dr. Gonzalez, what are you doing here?” He says almost amused and god is he glad to see you. You looked breathtaking, he’d never seen you not wearing scrubs. Not that you didn’t look just as beautiful in scrubs but this- this was different. You were covered head to toe in denim. Jeans that hugged your hips in the best way possible. A shiny Belt buckle adorning your waist. A denim halter top that reveals a perfect amount of your cleavage. Christ, he thought he was in heaven. You looked gorgeous.
Mohan had already jumped onto the case with Robby asking you all kinds of questions. You walked to Dana telling her important information and asking if there was anything you could do other than stand in the corner and just watch. “Abbot, what are you doing here so early?” You say snapping him back to reality. “Oh you know, working like everyone else. Are you going somewhere?” He says looking you over for the 3rd time since you've walked into the ED. “Uhm yeah I was supposed to go to a rodeo with some friends but uhm she collapsed before we could even leave so I guess we're not going anymore.” You say with a tone of disappointment in your voice. “Well I think you look very nice, cowgirl.” Dana says easing the tension between you two. “Aw, thank you Dana.” You say blowing a kiss at her before walking to the Trauma Room your friend was in.
“Oh you’ve got it bad Abbot.” Robby said quietly, chuckling next to him. Jack's head snapped towards his direction. Was he that obvious? There was no way he noticed it. “I don't know what you're talking about Robby.” he says feigning confusion to Robby's comment. He looks at you once again walking out of the Trauma Room and back to the main hub. “Take a picture, it might last longer, Abbot.” You say jokingly as you pass by where he was standing. He was screwed. “In that outfit? I might just have to Gonzalez.”
You flirted with everyone so he knew not to get worked up about it. But he couldn’t help feeling a warmth in his chest whenever you would say something to him. He felt like a teenager with a crush on a popular girl that would never like him. Okay he's being dramatic but he seriously didn’t know what he was going to do with his feelings for you.
“What's up, hottie.” Collins says to you as you walk by her and Princess. “Oh please!” You say laughing and going to hug her. “Ugh come back I don't think I can deal with Langdon by myself any longer.” She says with a whiny tone in her voice. As if he heard his name he comes out of a room and right where you're standing. “Am I dreaming or is that you Gonzalez?” He says, wiping his eyes and assessing you. “Yeah it’s me Langdon don’t get too excited.” You missed them all. Yeah you were the same with the night shift but it was different.
You feel his eyes on you. It wouldn’t be the first time today. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time ever since your first shift together. After he comforted you in the Ambulance Bay you had a small flirtation going. Even Parker and Shen were in on it, clocking the shared looks, small touches, even tiny compliments. But lately they’ve become more flirtatious. Shen couldn’t believe his ears when he heard you tell Abbot he gave “DILF Energy”. It was normal between you two. Others might think it was weird but you flirted with everyone so it was an everyday thing. You’ve never been the shy type, always speaking your mind in some way. You were a grown women and to be fair you were lonely. A little flirting now and then with Jack never hurt anyone.
So when the day shift heard the way you and Abbot acted during the night shift rumors started and bets were placed.
Betting Pool: Gonzalez and Abbot finally hooking up?
When?
Who initiated it?
Date after?
Jack Abbot was hot, like annoyingly hot. Like distracting you in the middle of an intubation kind of hot. Not only that but he was smart and kind. When you work together you fall into sync. Practically reading each other's minds. You would never tell him though. It was too embarrassing to say out loud. The only thing stopping you was you. It’s not like he’s your boss, you’re both attendings in the ED. You were both grown adults.
You could see him being a good boyfriend, hell even a good husband. You don't want to settle down just yet. You just started your career and you weren't stopping anytime soon. But a part of you was willing to change that for him.
“Nice boots.” You recognize the voice. You spin around in his direction. “Oh these old things? Well you're right, they are very nice.” You say looking down at your boots then back up at him. “You look good, cowgirl.” He says removing a piece of lint off your hat. “Do you know the hat rule, Abbot?”
“No, what is it?” You take off your hat slowly and place it on his head gently. “Lo que no sabes, no te hará daño caballero.” You whisper into his ear. Being so close to him sent chills down your spine. “Keep it, it looks good on you Abbot.” You turn and walk away back to the room your best friend was in.
Later on after shift it occurred to him that he still had no idea what you meant by “The hat rule”. He decided to search it up, eager to know what this meant and why you said it to him. He opened a link from an urban dictionary and was surprised when he saw the definition.
The Cowboy Hate Rule:
Put simply, you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy/cowgirl.
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Mexican reader who grew up with family that don’t outright say apologies to each other. They just either apologize through making them their favorite food, or an act of kindness to them as a way of apologizing. Bakugou who also doesn’t out right apologies to others, but instead does an act of service for that apology and forgiveness. So when you two start going out and get into arguments you guys don’t say “I’m sorry”, you guys make up in either cooking each others favorite dish or help them around with work or chores. Your favorite way of him apologizing is when he massages your shoulders. Silently telling you that he’s sorry, you end up forgiving him with a kiss on his lips to say that you forgive him. You guys might not voice your apologies to each other, but your actions speak louder than words. Sweet actions that you both always cherish.
*Damian staying with MexicanReader and Dick, while Bruce and Alfred are out of town*
*MexicanReader telling the Demon Brat about La Llorona for a world history project he had*
*Dick arriving from patrol tired and with a giant knots in his entire body*
*Dick asking MexicanReader to give him a. Deep tissue massage at 3 am.*
*MexicanReader Accepts*
*Dick screeching like a banshee because of the deep tissue massage At 3 am.*
*His screams very similar to those of La Llorona*
*Damian absolutely terrified in Dick and MexicanReader’s couch because he has fought demons, crazy sorcerers and clowns but never a Vengeful Mexican Whaling Ghost out hunting for kids his age*
in honor of méxico winning another game take this 🩵
Satoru is tired.
He's been awake since 6am with your family getting ready for the game today, went to the store and helped your mami with everything she got at the mercado, helped your apa get the grill ready, hell he even helped your abuelita get ready in her jersey and face paint.
And of course you wouldn't let him leave the house in his japan jersey, especially not in your home
"Sato si no te lo pones ahora mismo, yo te lo voy a poner y eso no te va a gustar."
Safe to say he was representing your country very well right now dressed in the iconic green with the flag drawn across his face, that still hasn't worn off even after all the hours of celebrating he has endured.
Right now you're both at al angel where it seems every mexican in mexico city has gathered to celebrate the win of their country. There's so much dancing, singing, drinking, partying going on that Satoru genuinely thinks that mexicans were made for exactly this.
"C'mon sato, dance with me!" you say clearly having the time of your life surrounded by the energy of the ever growing crowd. you look so happy in this moment that Satoru himself can't help but feel energized once again.
It's 1 in the morning when you both make it back to your parents house in CDMX. surprisingly the party continues at home until soon enough everyone ends up passed out all around the living room.
"Thank you for coming Sato, it means a lot having you here." you sleepily murmured nuzzling into his jersey clad chest more before finally falling asleep. In this moment Satoru decides that he can get used to mexican celebrations if he spends the rest of them with you by his side.
