yvanille

Lo o

[lovecvre16]

Characters

One piece / Live Action One piece

Luffy, Ace, Sanji, Katakuri, Mihawk, Corazon, Smoker, Buggy, Law, Koby

Gachiakuta

Tamsy, Gris, August, Follo, Zodyl, Corvus

Ouran High School Host Club

Kyoya, Mori, Kasanoda, Nekozawa

Dandadan

Jiji, Okarun

Mexico National Team (Currently obsessed with the world cup)

Memo, Acevedo, Hormiga, Mora

Hunter x Hunter

Chrollo, Leorio, Kurapika, Kite

[lovecvre16]

⚰︎Carlos Acevedo x Reader⚰︎

Acevedo as a vampire

(Reader, Carlos)

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧

You had built a small following online by traveling to places most people avoided.

While other creators filmed luxury hotels or famous landmarks, you chased old legends, abandoned towns, disappearances, and folklore that had survived for centuries.

You never claimed the stories were true. If anything, you usually ended your videos by explaining the history behind the myths and why people continued believing them.

You simply loved the stories.

Every place had one.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

Some towns were known for ghosts.

Others for witches, cursed forests, haunted castles, or unexplained disappearances.

This town, however, was famous for only one thing.

Vampires.

For hundreds of years, the town has been connected to vampire legends.

Depending on who you ask, the stories are completely different.

Some people say vampires once lived here, others say they're nothing more than old folklore passed down through generations. Like most legends, no one can seem to agree on what's true.

Personally, you believed neither.

Standing in the middle of the town square with your camera in hand, you smiled at the lens.

"Welcome back, everyone. Today's investigation takes us to one of Europe's most infamous vampire towns."

You stepped aside so the camera could capture the square behind you.

Bright sunlight reflected off centuries-old stone buildings. The place was filled with tourist either looking at the beautiful view or getting to know the legends.

"It definitely doesn't scream vampires," you laughed.

"Honestly, it looks like one of the safest, most peaceful places I've ever visited."

You slowly turned the camera in a full circle.

The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering through the town with your camera rolling.

You stopped anyone willing to talk.

A café employee laughed softly and asked if you were making one of those paranormal YouTube videos.

A bookstore owner told you the legends were "just part of the town," but ended the conversation before you could ask another question.

One local looked around as if checking who might be listening before saying, "Just don't wander too far after dark," then walked away before you could ask what he meant.

None of their stories matched.

Some claimed vampires had disappeared centuries ago.

Others insisted they had never left.

One man swore they only hunted criminals.

Another whispered that they protected innocent people.

Every answer contradicted the last.

Yet every person shared one thing in common.

None of them laughed.

Not once.

You lowered the camera for a moment as you walked down another narrow street.

"...That's actually kind of weird."

You lifted the camera back toward yourself.

"Usually when I visit places like this, people have fun with the legends. They'll exaggerate, make jokes, or try to scare tourists."

You glanced around at the passing locals.

"But everyone here gets... uncomfortable."

"I'm also sensing a very bad energy"

Not frightened.

Not embarrassed.

Uncomfortable.

As though you asked a question she wasn't supposed to ask.

You couldn't quite explain why, but the feeling lingered with you as you continued walking.

The town looked perfectly normal.

It sounded normal.

Nothing seemed out of place.

And yet...

Something felt off.

Not because you believed the legends.

But because everyone else seemed to.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

By late afternoon, hunger interrupted her thoughts. You wandered into a small family-owned restaurant tucked away from the crowded square, deciding it would be the perfect place to rest, review her footage, and talk through everything you learned so far.

As soon as you set up the camera, you sat down.

"Guys I honestly dont know how to feel about this place"

"Maybe they're just really committed to the town's branding."

You looked around.

“Before coming here I did some research and yes I read about Dracula but more importantly the way this man yearned”

“Now men expect you to pay for everything and don’t get a job”

A quiet laugh sounded behind you,

You turned in your chair.

Standing a few feet away was a man dressed entirely in black.

Dark curls framed his face, and his sharp features gave him an intimidating appearance despite the small smile resting on his lips. His dark eyes lingered on the camera before meeting yours.

He spoke in Spanish.

"¿Puedo sentarme?"

You answered just as naturally.

"Claro."

He pulled out the chair across from you.

"¿Eres periodista?" he asked.

You shook your head.

"No. Solo documento lugares con historias interesantes. Leyendas, crímenes, desapariciones... cosas así."

His eyes briefly drifted toward the camera again.

"¿Y los vampiros?"

You smiled.

"Son buenas historias, pero no creo que existan."

For the briefest moment, something unreadable crossed his face before disappearing behind another polite smile.

"La gente aquí habla demasiado."

You laughed softly.

"Eso parece."

The conversation continued effortlessly. They talked about history, old architecture, travel, and the countless legends surrounding the town. He seemed to know every street, every building, and every family that lived there.

Eventually you asked,

"¿Has vivido aquí mucho tiempo?"

He smiled.

"Muchísimo tiempo."

You laughed.

"Lo dices como si hubieras vivido aquí por siglos."

His smile faltered for only a fraction of a second.

Then he laughed with her.

"A veces se siente así."

When they finally stood to leave, he introduced himself.

"Carlos."

You told him your name before shaking his hand.

His skin was strangely cold.

You raised an eyebrow.

"Mala circulación," he explained with an amused smile.

It seemed like a reasonable answer.

After saying goodbye, she continued exploring while Carlos remained standing outside the restaurant, watching her disappear around the corner.

Only after you was completely out of sight did his smile fade.

He had heard every word she'd said about vampires.

He should have been relieved that she dismissed the legends as nothing more than stories.

Instead...

He was worried.

Curiosity had a way of leading people into places they should never go.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

By the time you finished editing a few clips from the day, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains.

You sat on the edge of her hotel bed, scrolling through the footage before turning the camera back on.

“Okay, quick update before I go back out.”

You glanced at the screen.

“After spending the entire day here, I have to say... this town is a lot more normal than I expected.”

You turned the camera toward the window, showing the quiet streets below.

“Like, during the day, you would never think there was anything unusual about this place.”

You looked back at the camera.

“But the way people reacted when I asked about the legends was interesting.”

You leaned back slightly.

“Everyone had a different answer, but nobody really wanted to talk about it for too long.”

You smiled.

“Which, obviously, makes me more curious.”

"That guy that came up to me was really cute tho"

You stood up and grabbed your bag.

“I’m going to walk around for a little bit and see if the town feels any different at night.”

“I want to feel like I’m in twilight expect I’m choosing Carlisle instead of Edward”

You looked down at your outfit.

“Although I did make one mistake.”

You held up your long sleeve.

“It was really warm earlier, so I thought this would be enough.”

You laughed.

“It was not.”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

The second you stepped outside, you immediately noticed the difference.

The warm air from earlier was gone.

A cold breeze moved through the streets, and you pulled your sleeves over your hands.

You pointed the camera toward yourself .

“Okay, first update.”

You smiled slightly.

“I was wrong.”

You turned the camera around.

“It is actually freezing.”

You started walking, filming the streets around you.

The same streets that had been full of people earlier were now completely empty.

The cafés were closed.

The shops were dark.

The plaza where she had recorded earlier was silent.

You slowed down.

“Okay…”

You looked around.

“Where did everyone go?”

You turned the camera toward the empty street.

“It’s not even that late.”

You checked her phone.

“Seriously, I feel like I blinked and the entire town disappeared.”

You laughed quietly.

“Maybe everyone here is just really good at knowing when to go home.”

You continued walking

“Honestly, respect.”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

For a few minutes, you kept filming normally, pointing out old buildings and small details you hadn't noticed during the day.

But the farther youwalked from the center of town, the quieter it became.

You lowered the camera slightly.

“Okay, I’m noticing something.”

You looked around.

“It’s not the vampire thing that’s bothering me.”

You paused.

“It’s the fact that I haven’t seen a single person.”

You laughed softly.

“I swear I’m not trying to make this dramatic.”

A few seconds passed.

“I’m just saying... an empty town at night is kind of weird.”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

From the rooftops above her, Carlos watched.

He had noticed when she left the hotel.

He had noticed the way she looked around when she realized the streets were empty.

And he had noticed that despite being uncomfortable, she kept recording.

Most people would have gone back.

She didn’t.

Carlos stayed hidden, following her from a distance.

Not because she knew anything.

She didn't.

Her camera was filled with questions, theories, and observations, but she still treated everything as a story.

A legend.

A piece of history.

Not reality.

That was what made him curious.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

You continued down one of the older streets, holding the camera in front of you .

“Okay, this part wasn't on the map.”

You turned the camera toward the narrow road ahead.

“Which is usually either really interesting or a terrible idea.”

You smiled.

“Probably both.”

You took a few more steps before stopping.

A chill suddenly ran through you.

Not from the weather.

Something about the street felt different.

You looked around.

“...Okay.”

You lowered your voice.

“That was weird.”

You looked at the camera.

“Did anyone else just feel that?”

You waited a second, almost expecting someone to answer.

Then you laughed.

“Okay, obviously not because this is a camera.”

You kept walking.

Then you heard it.

A noise.

A faint sound somewhere behind you.

You stopped.

Your expression changed slightly.

“Wait.”

You turned around.

The street was empty.

No one.

Nothing moved.

You stared for a moment before turning back toward the camera.

“Okay, guys.”

You whispered.

“I’m not going to lie.”

You glanced behind you again.

“I’m actually a little scared.”

You immediately shook your head.

“Which is embarrassing because I literally came here looking for creepy stuff.”

You laughed quietly.

“Nope. Nope, we are not doing this.”

You started walking again.

“Distract yourself.”

You thought for a second.

“How does that one song go?”

A small smile appeared.

“Why is my brain choosing this right now?”

You brought the camera closer.

“Don’t judge me.”

Quietly, you started singing under your breath.

“We’re waiting every night...”

"To finally roam and invite..."

You laughed softly.

“Why am I singing a Five Nights at Freddy’s song while walking through a vampire town? Omg should I play some Malice Mizer?”

You shook your head.

“Actually, don’t answer that.”

The sound of your own voice helped.

A little.

You kept walking, humming quietly as you filmed.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚

Above her, Carlos watched silently.

For the first time that night, his expression softened.

She was scared, but she wasn't running.

She was trying to make herself laugh.

He found that oddly endearing.

She had no idea how close she was to something she didn't understand.

Not because she had discovered him.

She hadn't.

Not because anyone was after her.They weren't

Carlos was simply making sure she was safe.

The town was unfamiliar

The streets were empty.

And she was alone.

So he stayed.

Hidden in the darkness.

Watching over her until she finally decided to return.

˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧—🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪‧

(I hope yall liked the final part. Im trying to get to everyone's requests. Thank you so much for the support. Love yall!🦇 ܁ ˖ִ ࣪)

[lovecvre16]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Brian Gutiérrez x Reader 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Reader doing a collab with Jordan Huxhold

Part 2

(Reader, Brian, Jordan)

⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️

Morning came quietly.

Soft light slipped through the curtains, the room still half-asleep.

You stirred slightly… but something felt off.

Warm.

Heavy.

An arm.

Your eyes slowly opened.

Jordan.

His arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, your back pressed against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your brain froze.

“…oh my god.”

You moved quickly, trying to slip out without waking him

But his grip tightened.

“Where are you going…” his voice was low, still half asleep.

“I—nowhere,” you whispered.

“Go back to sleep.”

He pulled you back slightly, his face brushing against your shoulder.

“You move too much,” he mumbled.

“You’re literally holding me hostage.”

He let out a quiet laugh, eyes still closed.

“You don’t hate it.”

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it.

“…go to sleep, Jordan.”

He hummed something in response, but after a second, his grip loosened.

You carefully slipped out this time.

Finally free.

You grabbed a hoodie, pulling it over your head, pairing it with your shorts, and quietly made your way out.

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚

The hallway was empty.

Peaceful.

Exactly what you needed.

You walked toward the main balcony of the floor, the early morning air hitting your face as soon as you stepped outside.

Cool. Calm.

You leaned against the railing, exhaling slowly.

“…finally.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You froze.

Your head turned slowly.

Brian.

Standing a few feet away, leaning casually against the wall like he’d been there for a while.

Your heart did that thing again.

“Oh—um…” you laughed softly.

“Yeah. Needed air.”

He nodded slightly.

“I get that.”

There was a small pause.

Comfortable… but not.

“I thought you had training,” you said.

“It got canceled,” he replied.

“Weather issues.”

You glanced out at the sky.

“…it’s literally clear.”

He smirked a little.

“Yeah. I didn’t ask questions.”

You laughed quietly.

Silence fell again—but it wasn’t awkward this time.

Just… quiet.

Then he looked at you.

“You always wake up early?”

“Not by choice,” you said.

“I was being attacked in my sleep.”

He raised a brow.

“Attacked?”

“Jordan.”

That made him huff out a small laugh.

“…makes sense.”

You looked at him.

Really looked at him this time.

No crowd. No noise.

Just him.

“You’re quieter than I expected,” you said.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Just… different.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“You’re the same.”

You blinked.

“What does that mean?”

“Loud,” he said simply.

You gasped.

“I am not loud.”

“You are.”

“That’s crazy.”

He smiled.

And for a second

You forgot everything else.

“Why’d you really come out here?” he asked.

You hesitated.

“…needed a break.”

“From him?”

You looked at him, surprised.

“…from everything but especially him.”

He nodded like he understood more than you said.

Then, softer

“You don’t seem like you’re trying too hard.”

Your brows pulled together slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“Most people…” he shrugged lightly,

“they act different when they see us.”

You understood immediately.

“…oh.”

“You didn’t.”

You smiled a little.

“I almost screamed at you yesterday.”

“You did scream.”

“Okay, but I didn’t know it was you.”

He stepped a little closer.

Not too close.

Just enough.

“And now you do.”

Your breath caught for a second.

“…yeah.”

There was a pause.

Longer this time.

Then

You stepped back slightly.

“I should go before Jordan wakes up and thinks I got kidnapped.”

Brian nodded.

“Yeah.”

You started walking away

“Hey.”

You turned.

He looked at you, something unreadable in his expression.

“…see you later.”

You smiled softly.

“Yeah.”

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚

You walked back into your room quietly

And immediately felt something was off.

Too quiet.

Jordan wasn’t in bed.

The bathroom door was closed.

Shower running.

You exhaled, relaxing—

Then your phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

And again.

Your brows furrowed as you picked it up.

Notifications.

Hundreds.

No—thousands.

“…what?”

You opened TikTok.

Your last live.

Still posted.

Still going.

Your stomach dropped.

“…no.”

The audio kept going.

The fanfic reading.

The screaming.

Jordan arguing in the background

Then

Knock.

Your breath stopped.

The video continued.

You walked to the door.

Opened it.

And there he was.

Brian.

On camera.

Clear as day.

“Hey… sorry, I just wanted to ask if you could turn it down.”

Your eyes widened as your past self started apologizing.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry—”

The comments were going insane.

“WAIT THAT’S HIM???” “BRIAN AT HER DOOR???” “OH THIS IS BAD BAD” “WHY IS HE AT HER ROOM???” “THEY WERE READING FANFICS AND HE HEARD???”

You felt your face go hot.

“…no no no—”

But it got worse.

“So… who’s your favorite player?”

Your voice.

His voice.

Clear.

“Probably Hormiga González.”

“So not me… damn.”

You covered your mouth.

“Oh my god.”

The clip zoomed in

People had already edited it.

Added captions.

Music.

Slow motion.

Your heart was racing now.

“They edited it?? ALREADY??”

You scrolled.

Another post.

Another.

A sports page:

“Brian Gutiérrez Spotted Outside Influencer’s Room After Late-Night Visit”

Your stomach dropped.

“VISIT???”

Another one:

“Fans React to Viral Hotel Clip Between Brian Gutiérrez and Content Creator”

You didn’t even open it.

You couldn’t.

Your breathing picked up.

“This is so bad…”

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚

The shower turned off.

You stood there, phone still in your hand, heart racing.

“…we forgot to end the live.”

Jordan didn’t answer right away.

Just watched the screen.

Watched the clip replay.

Brian at the door.

Your voices.

Everything.

“…that’s crazy,” he said finally.

But something about his tone felt off.

You were too panicked to notice.

“This is so bad, Jordan—they think he was in here, they think—”

“I know,” he cut in, calm. Too calm.

You paced slightly.

“I didn’t even realize it was still recording, I thought we ended it after the fanfic—”

Jordan looked at you then.

Really looked at you.

“…yeah,” he said quietly. “You thought.”

You paused.

Something in your chest tightened.

“…what does that mean?”

He didn’t answer.

Just looked back at the phone.

At the moment the clip started.

At the knock.

At himself—

Reaching toward the phone.

And tapping.

Your brows slowly furrowed.

“…Jordan.”

He stayed quiet.

“…Jordan.”

“What?” he said, but it came out a little too quick.

Your stomach dropped.

“You ended the live, right?”

Silence.

Too long.

Your heart started pounding again but for a different reason now.

“…right?”

He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

“I muted it.”

You blinked.

“…what?”

“When he knocked,” he said. “I muted it.”

Your chest tightened.

“Okay… so then how did they hear—”

He didn’t look at you.

“…I turned it back on.”

Everything stopped.

“What?”

His jaw clenched slightly.

“When I saw it was him.”

Your voice came out sharper now.

“Why would you do that?”

He finally looked at you.

There was something there.

Jealousy.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Maybe because you were laughing a little too much.”

Your breath caught.

“…are you serious right now?”

“You didn’t even notice,” he continued.

“You were just standing there smiling at him like—”

“Because he was at our door, Jordan!” you snapped.

“What was I supposed to do, slam it in his face?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying??”

Silence.

Heavy.

Then

“That you weren’t acting like that with me.”

That hit.

You stared at him.

“…this is not about you.”

“It clearly is.”

“No, it’s not!” you said, voice rising.

“This is about the fact that you literally turned the audio back on and now this is everywhere—”

“I didn’t think it would blow up like that.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

Your chest was tight now.

Frustrated.

Overwhelmed.

“You don’t just do something like that, Jordan.”

He didn’t respond.

Just looked away.

And somehow

That made it worse.

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚

A knock.

Again.

This time—

You both knew who it was.

You looked at Jordan.

Then at the door.

“…I’ll handle it.”

He didn’t argue.

You opened it.

Brian stood there, serious.

“Hey,” he said. “Can we talk?”

You nodded quickly, stepping outside and closing the door behind you.

And immediately

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t know it was still recording, I swear I didn’t mean to ruin anything or drag you into this or—”

“Hey.”

You kept going.

“I didn’t even realize the audio was on and now it’s everywhere and people are saying stuff and I feel so bad—”

“Hey.”

He stepped a little closer.

“Breathe.”

You stopped.

Barely.

“I didn’t mean to mess anything up for you,” you said again, quieter now.

“Like your career or your team or—”

“I know,” he said.

No hesitation.

No doubt.

You looked up at him.

“I know you didn’t,” he repeated.

Your shoulders dropped slightly.

“But it still happened,” you said.

“And now people are twisting it and—”

“I’ve seen it.”

He paused.

Then

“I’m not worried about me.”

That surprised you.

“…you’re not?”

He shook his head.

“I’m more worried about you getting dragged.”

Your heart stuttered.

From inside the room, Jordan stood closer to the door now.

Listening.

Hearing everything.

Brian glanced toward the door briefly.

Then back at you.

“I’m posting something,” he said.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

He pulled out his phone, typing quickly.

A few seconds.

Then

Posted.

He turned the screen toward you.

@briangutierrez_11: “y’all need to relax. nothing weird happened. she didn’t do anything wrong so stop dragging her.”

Your breath caught.

“…you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“But you did.”

He shrugged slightly.

“They’re not about to blame you for something you didn’t do.”

You looked at him.

Really looked at him.

And for a second

Everything else faded.

“…thank you,” you said softly.

He nodded.

“Of course.”

A pause.

You gave him a quick hug.

Then

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.”

He walked off.

And you stood there for a moment before going back inside.

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚

Jordan was right where you left him.

Arms crossed now.

You closed the door slowly.

Silence.

Then

“You told him?”

You frowned.

“…told him what?”

“That it was still recording.”

Your expression hardened.

“No.”

Another pause.

Then you said it.

Quiet.

But sharp.

“…you did that on purpose.”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t deny it either.

And that?

Told you everything.

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚

And now?

This wasn’t just messy.

It was personal.

⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️ ₊˚⊹ ♡⋆ 🗞️

(Of course I tried to make this messy as f. Please tell me if you like random collabs like this, I will do more. Thank you so much for the support. Love yall𖤝!)

[lovecvre16]

ᥫ✿ Brian Gutiérrez x Reader ᥫ✿

Reader doing a collab with Jordan Huxhold

(Reader, Brian, Jordan)

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 ⋆

The hotel lobby was quiet.

You sat curled into one of the chairs, oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, sunglasses on, coffee in hand as you talked to your camera.

“Y’all are going to freak out when you see this man,” you grinned.

“He is so fineee.”

You took a sip, completely relaxed

Until hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

“AH—!”

You jumped so fast your coffee nearly spilled.

Laughter filled your ears.

You whipped around.

“Jordan?!”

There he was—Jordan Huxhold—smiling like he just won something.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing. “I thought it’d be funny.”

You smacked his arm, but immediately pulled him into a hug anyway.

“You’re actually so annoying, oh my god, you scared me.”

“Missed me?” he teased softly.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, raising a brow.

“…a little.”

That made him smile.

You quickly turned the camera toward both of you, wrapping an arm around him.

“Guys, do you know this beautiful man?” you said.

“It’s Jordan… the freak himself.”

He blinked. “Why am I a freak?”

“Because you a freak in the—”

“Alright,” he cut in, laughing. “We’re done.”

You laughed, nudging him. “Did you check in already?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay, good, because I look terrible right now.”

He tilted his head, really looking at you.

“You don’t.”

You paused—just slightly.

Then rolled your eyes.

“Anyways, let’s go.”

But he noticed the tiny smile you tried to hide.

As you walked toward the elevator, everything suddenly got loud.

Voices. Movement.

You turned—

And froze.

The Mexican National Team walked in, green jerseys everywhere.

Your jaw dropped.

“OH MY GOD—THAT’S THE MEXICAN TEAM.”

You grabbed Jordan’s arm like you were about to explode.

He stared. “You’re telling me we’re staying in the same hotel as them?”

“YES.”

You were practically bouncing now.

Jordan chuckled. “Okay, okay—let’s get you to your room before you pass out.”

“You’re acting like I’m dramatic.”

“You are.”

You shoved him lightly as the elevator doors opened.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

Inside your room, you dropped your bag dramatically.

“Guys, we’re sharing a room because we’re a little broke right now.”

“I’m not,” Jordan said.

You turned. “Shut up, Jordan.”

He smirked. “You missed me.”

You paused again… then ignored it.

You changed into your swimsuit but threw on an oversized JJK shirt over it, fixing your hair slightly as you looked at the camera.

“Guys, if you can’t tell, these are my favorite characters, Meg Sushiguro, Gojo Saturation, and Yuji Itadory.” you said, pointing at your shirt. “Anyways, Jordan is taking forever, so I’m going to the pool first.”

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

The pool area was quiet. Empty.

You set your towel down, adjusted your camera, and laid back on the chair, scrolling through TikTok while waiting.

After a few minutes, someone walked out.

You shot up instantly.

“I’m over here, Jordan!”

They stopped.

You squinted.

…Not Jordan.

He had blue eyes.

But short hair.

It was Brian Gutiérrez.

Your entire body froze.

“Oh—”

You immediately dropped back into your chair, covering your face.

You whispered to the camera:

“Guys… that was NOT Jordan. I’m actually so embarrassed right now.”

Across the pool, Brian smiled to himself, clearly amused.

And now?

He was paying attention.

When Jordan finally came out, you crossed your arms.

“You took forever.”

“Why didn’t you hype me up?” he asked.

“Because I already embarrassed myself earlier thinking someone else was you.”

“Who?”

You pointed.

He looked and immediately started laughing.

“Oh my god—THE player you like??”

“Shut up.”

“Wow. You really shot your shot too.”

“I didn’t know it was him!”

You got into the pool, trying to act normal.

Jordan leaned against the edge, watching you.

“You still scream like that?” he teased.

“You literally scared me.”

“You used to like when I surprised you.”

You splashed water at him. “Get in.”

He stepped back. “I’m good.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Jordan.”

“…No.”

You smirked.

“Okay.”

You turned your back like you gave up.

He relaxed.

Then

He slowly got up and backed up.

“JORDAN NO—MY HAIR!”

He ran and jumped in.

Water splashed everywhere.

You stared at him in disbelief.

“I hate you.”

He just grinned, water dripping down his face.

“You love me.”

You rolled your eyes but you were smiling.

You both ended up just messing around, playing mermaids, joking, laughing like nothing else mattered.

From the side?

Brian watched the entire thing.

The way you laughed.

The way you argued.

The way you didn’t try too hard—you were just… you.

And that caught his attention more than anything.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

Walking back inside, you passed the team again.

One of them—Hormiga González—noticed your anime shirt and smiled.

You smiled back, a little surprised.

But Brian?

He noticed something else.

The way Jordan walked close to you.

The way you leaned into him naturally.

And he assumed.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

Later, after getting ready again

Music blasting (mostly from your playlist), you hyping yourself up while Jordan fixed his hair for way too long

You both stepped into the elevator.

“Okay guys,” you said to the camera,

“I know it looks like we’re matching, but we’re not. I just look better.”

“Why are we lying?” Jordan said.

You side-eyed him.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

At the buffet, you grabbed way too much food.

Two full plates.

“Guys, I’m starving.”

“That’s insane,” Jordan said.

“You’re just mad I can eat and still look better than you.”

“I’m impressed.”

You sat down across from each other.

There was a moment—quiet.

Then you said:

“We look like a couple.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“We could be.”

You froze for a second.

“…don’t start.”

He smirked.

Then tried feeding you salad.

You leaned back.

“Absolutely not.”

“Wow.”

“Get that away from me.”

“You’ve changed.”

“You still eat like a rabbit.”

Then

You saw him again.

Brian.

You froze mid-bite.

“Damn… he’s so fine.”

“Who?” Jordan asked.

“That guy. From the team.”

“With the blue eyes?”

“Yes.”

“He kinda looks like me.”

You stared at him.

“…be serious.”

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

Across the room, Brian noticed you looking.

This time, he held your gaze.

And smiled.

Not shy.

Not awkward.

Confident.

You felt your stomach flip—and immediately looked away.

“…Nope,” you whispered. “Not happening.”

But your cheeks were already warm.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

Later, outside on the field, your head started hurting.

Too much noise. Too much everything.

So you laid down, resting your head on Jordan’s lap.

He looked down at you.

“You okay?”

“Just a headache.”

His voice softened.

“Stay there.”

His fingers lightly brushed your hair back.

Not even thinking about it.

Comfort.

Familiar.

From a distance, Brian walked past.

And stopped.

His expression changed instantly.

You… on Jordan.

Close. Soft. Comfortable.

He looked away, jaw tightening.

“…Right,” he muttered.

Completely wrong idea.

But now?

He cared.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

That night, back in your room

“I have an idea.”

Jordan immediately shook his head. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You were already scrolling.

“We’re reading fanfics.”

He groaned.

You started reading and immediately lost it.

"he hungrily kissed you and soon moved towards your neck-"

“Oh my GOD WHY IS THIS SO CRINGY BUT ACCURATE?”

You were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

Jordan looked horrified.

“I do NOT act like that.”

“THIS IS CRAZY—”

“I would never do that!”

"Yes you would you're a freak-"

You were literally screaming at this point.

Then

Knock knock.

You both froze.

You opened the door.

And there he was.

Brian.

Closer this time.

Way closer.

“Hey,” he said, voice calm but slightly awkward.

“Sorry… I just wanted to ask if you could turn it down. I have training early.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize your room was next to ours.”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly.

You hesitated… then smiled.

“This might be weird timing, but I’m actually a huge fan.”

That caught him off guard—in a good way.

“You are?”

“Yeah. I’ve been watching the World Cup… and I’ve seen you play for Chivas.”

He smiled—softer this time.

“Oh… so you really watch.”

“Yeah.”

"So who's your favorite player?"

"World Cup or Chivas?"

"Chivas"

"Probably Hormiga González."

"So not me damn I feel a little heartbroken."

There was a pause.

He glanced behind you—at Jordan.

Then back at you.

“…You guys together?”

You blinked.

“Oh no.”

At the same time

Jordan said, “We used to be.”

You both looked at each other.

Brian’s expression shifted slightly.

“Oh.”

Something about that answer… made him relax.

Just a little.

He looked back at you.

“Well… I’ll let you get back to your… fanfic.”

You covered your face.

“Please don’t say that, I didn't know you could hear us.”

He laughed quietly.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You closed the door slowly.

Turned to Jordan.

“…why did you say that?”

He shrugged.

“Because it’s true.”

You stared at him.

“…you’re annoying.”

He smirked.

“You’re blushing.”

You threw a pillow at him.

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･☀︎

And on the other side of the wall

Brian laid on his bed.

Staring at the ceiling.

Thinking about you.

And that small smile?

Yeah.

That wasn’t going away anytime soon.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°⋆｡𖦹 °.

(I hope yall got all my references, I'm a big payton king fan so of course I had to bring in the beautiful man Jordan. If yall dont know who he is, please search it up. Thank you so much for the support. Love yall!♡⃛)

[lovecvre16]

‧₊˚ ┊Gilberto Mora x Reader ┊‧₊˚

Reader is an actor who is being shipped with Gilberto Mora

Reader is 17

(Reader, Mora, Quen)

˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖

Now that Mora followed you…

everything got worse.

(In the best way possible.)

At first, it was just a one-time thing.

A follow. A like.

But then—

he didn’t stop.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

The first time you forgot he followed you was honestly your biggest mistake.

You were mid–“get ready with me,” phone propped up, music blasting in the background while you half did your makeup and half talked nonsense.

“Okay wait—this eyeliner is either gonna look really good or imma look emo”

"Eres emo?"

And then

the song changed.

“Mi Mayor Anhelo” started playing.

You froze.

Slowly lowered your brush.

Stared at yourself in the mirror.

“…no…”

"..esa nooo.."

And then immediately

you committed.

You dropped everything dramatically, turning toward the camera like you’d just been betrayed.

“NOOOO—”

You clutched your chest, fake crying, fully screaming the lyrics off-key, running around your room like your life depended on it.

At one point you literally fell onto your bed, face down, still yelling.

Caption:

“i miss you memo.”

You posted it.

Didn’t think twice.

Went back to finishing getting ready

Came back.

And then

your phone lit up.

gil_morita liked your story

You froze.

Actually froze.

“…oh my god.”

Your eyes went wide, your jaw dropping as you stared at the notification like it personally attacked you.

“OH MY GOD.”

You grabbed your phone so fast you almost dropped it.

Immediately calling your friends.

“HE SAW THAT.”

“WHO??”

“MORA.”

Silence.

Then screaming.

“YOU DID NOT JUST POST THAT IN FRONT OF HIM—”

“I FORGOT HE FOLLOWED ME!”

You hung up just to screenshot it.

Straight to your close friends story:

“that’s my man fr”

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

After that?

It became a pattern.

You’d post something stupid—he’d like it.

A random goofy pic? Like.

You ranting about anime at 2AM? Like.

A random pic of your food? Like.

At first, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But then it kept happening.

And suddenly

it felt like something.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

You did stop reposting the edits though.

Not because you didn’t like them.

But because now?

He could actually see them.

And the thought of him watching those dramatic slow-motion edits of you saying his name…

No.

Absolutely not.

Unfortunately

the internet noticed everything.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

First, it was the follow.

Then the likes.

Then people started connecting dots.

“She stopped reposting edits after he followed her…” “WAIT HE LIKES ALL HER STORIES” “AND SHE LIKES HIS POSTS BACK???”

And just like that—

it exploded again.

Even bigger this time.

Edits multiplied.

Comments flooded.

People analyzing timestamps like detectives.

And the biggest question?

✧₊⁺When were you two going to meet?✧₊⁺

You didn’t have an answer

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

Not until

your manager called.

“You got invited to film with Quen Blackwell.”

You sat up immediately.

“…what?”

“For her YouTube channel. ‘Feeding Starving Celebrities.’”

Your eyes lit up.

“Wait—I LOVE her.”

“I know,” your manager said. “They want you for a cooking video.”

“…say less.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“I’m in.”

“They also mentioned a surprise.”

You paused.

“…what kind of surprise?”

“They didn’t say.”

You should’ve been suspicious.

You weren’t.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

The day of filming—

you walked onto set, trying to act normal.

The second you saw Quen—

you ran.

“OH MY GOD—”

You practically tackled her in a hug.

“I’m such a big fan, I love your videos, I’ve been watching you for YEARS—”

Quen laughed, hugging you back.

“Girl, YOU’RE the celebrity here.”

“Be serious right now.”

She pulled back, smiling.

“I have a very special surprise for you later.”

You blinked.

“…later?”

She just grinned.

“Just wait.”

You were nervous.

But excited.

So you pushed it aside.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

The camera started rolling.

Quen stepped forward.

“Heeelloooo internet, I’m Quen Blackwell—”

“And today,” she continued dramatically,

“we have the most famous, most chaotic, most alpha sigma female on the internet—”

You didn’t even let her finish.

You ran into frame.

Did a full cartwheel.

Almost slipped.

Recovered.

And posed like nothing happened.

“Heeellooo citizens of the internet,” you said, out of breath but committed,

“it is I—your most beloved actress.”

Quen grabbed your hands and you both started jumping.

“I’m actually such a fan of Quen, I’m so excited, I might cry—”

“You better not cry in my kitchen.”

“No promises.”

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

The cooking part?

A mess.

Actual chaos.

You cracked an egg wrong and got shell everywhere.

“WHY IS THERE CRUNCH—”

“That’s on YOU.”

You tried to flip something and almost launched it across the room.

Quen had to physically grab your wrist.

"Calm down babygirl Im here to help"

"then PLEASE HELP-"

At one point, you just started eating ingredients straight from the bowl.

“Stop eating the raw batter!”

"Its so good"

"You're going to get sick"

“Plus its for emotional support!”

Music was blasting in the background

and that was the real problem.

Because the second a good song came on

you paused.

Looked at Quen.

Slow smile forming.

She saw it immediately.

“…don’t.”

You were already climbing onto the counter.

“Too late.”

“GET DOWN—”

But then—

she stopped.

Looked at you.

And instead of pulling you down—

she grabbed your hand.

“…move.”

“Wait—what—”

Next thing you knew

Quen climbed up with you.

Now both of you were on the counter.

Laughing.

“THIS IS A BAD IDEA—” she yelled.

“Then why are you up here?!” you laughed.

“Because I support bad decisions!”

You started dancing first

hyping yourself up

and Quen immediately joined in, matching your energy.

“OKAY WAIT—HOLD ON—”

She grabbed your shoulders, both of you jumping in sync now.

“THIS IS MY SHOW—”

“THIS IS OUR SHOW NOW!”

You dropped into a split

right there on the counter.

Quen SCREAMED.

“NO WAY—”

You popped back up like it was nothing.

“See? Multitalented.”

“You’re insane.”

She tried to copy you—

got halfway down

and immediately grabbed onto you.

“Help—help—”

“I GOT YOU—don’t fall"

You were both laughing so hard you could barely stand straight.

Holding onto each other for balance.

Music blasting.

Completely forgetting you were supposed to be cooking.

Then

Quen suddenly froze.

“The food.”

You blinked.

“…what food?”

You both turned slowly.

The pan.

Smoking.

“OH MY GOD—”

You both jumped down at the same time.

“This is YOUR fault!”

“NO—you joined me!”

“Because you started it!”

You grabbed the spatula, trying to save whatever was left.

Quen dramatically fanned the air.

“This is why we can’t have nice things!”

“This is why you trust the process!”

And somehow

even after all that

you were still laughing.

Still messing around.

Still completely off track.

Everything was going perfectly.

Too perfectly.

Which should’ve been your warning.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

A few minutes in, Quen suddenly clapped her hands.

“Okay,” she said, turning toward the camera with a grin that immediately made you suspicious.

You pointed at her.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That face. I don’t like that face.”

She ignored you.

“I told you guys I had a surprise.”

You sighed, shaking your head, still stirring.

“…if this is something embarrassing—”

“It’s not embarrassing,” she cut in, way too quickly.

You looked at the camera.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“People have been talking a lot,” Quen continued. “Shipping you with people—”

“Free me,” you muttered.

“But especially with one person…”

You paused.

Slowly looked at her.

“Quen.”

She smiled wider.

“Gilberto Mora.”

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

You blinked once.

Then let out a small laugh.

“No, you’re lying.”

You shook your head, turning back to the counter.

“You’re actually lying.”

And then—

you heard a voice behind you.

“Creo que no.”

You turned.

And there he was.

Just standing there like it was normal.

Like this wasn’t insane timing.

You stared at him for half a second

then let out a breathy laugh, covering your face briefly.

“No puede ser…”

But you were already smiling.

He walked closer, a little stiff, a small smile on his face.

“Hola.”

You dropped your hand, meeting his eyes.

“Hola,” you answered, more grounded this time.

Quen was losing it behind you.

“I’m actually witnessing history—”

“Quen, you did me so dirty,” you said automatically, not even looking at her.

Mora laughed quietly at that.

You stepped a little bit further away, trying to give him space

“¿Sí eras tú el que veía mis historias o era un impostor?” you asked, teasing.

“Sí era yo,” he said. “No me escondo.”

You let out a small “mhm,” pretending to think.

“Interesante…”

There was no weird pause this time.

No panic.

Just… easy energy.

He glanced at you, then opened his arms slightly.

“¿Abrazo o todavía no?”

You smiled immediately.

“Sí, obvio.”

You stepped in and hugged him like it was normal.

Quick, warm, familiar.

Like you weren’t meeting for the first time in front of a camera.

He laughed softly.

“La verdad menos mal.”

You pulled back, still smiling.

“Pensé que ibas a ser más serio.”

“¿Y tú menos dramática?”

“Eso nunca.”

Quen clutched the counter.

“I’m not okay.”

“Quen, your gonna be hearing from me very soon” you said, grabbing a spoon again like nothing just happened.

Mora looked at the mess in front of you.

“…¿esto hicieron ustedes?”

“Íbamos bien,” you defended.

“No, no iban bien.”

You pointed at him.

“Okay, entonces ayúdame en vez de criticar.”

He stepped next to you without hesitation.

“La verdad está bien, pero yo mando ahora.”

“Eso crees.”

And just like that

he was part of it.

Standing next to you but not too close, helping, teasing, bumping shoulders with you like it was nothing.

Just looked like some cringy teenage flirting

You kept talking to him in Spanish without even thinking about it.

At one point, you handed him something without looking.

“Ten”

“Gracias.”

Your hands brushed for a second.

You moved it away quickly.

He just laughed it off

Quen turned to the camera, fully serious now.

“I just want everyone to know—this is better than I imagined.”

You laughed.

“Same.”

Mora glanced at you, small smile still there.

“Same.”

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

Filming finally wrapped.

After all the chaos, the dancing, almost burning the food, and Quen laughing so hard she had to sit down—

the cameras cut.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

“Okay, we’re done!” someone called out.

Quen clapped, still smiling.

“That was actually my favorite episode.”

“You say that every time,” you laughed.

“This time I mean it.”

The crew started packing up.

Lights dimmed a little.

Everything felt… calmer.

Quen got pulled away by someone on her team.

“Wait, I’ll be back,” she said quickly.

“You better,” you warned.

“No promises,” she teased, walking off.

And then

it was just you and Mora.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶

You leaned back lightly against the counter, exhaling.

“…ok,” you muttered to yourself, then looked at him.

“Eso fue… mucho.”

Mora smiled a little.

“Sí.”

“Aún se siente raro,” you admitted, shaking your head.

“La verdad un poco.”

There was a small pause.

Not awkward

just quiet.

You glanced at him again.

“Perdón por todo el caos,” you said, half laughing.

“Así eres, ¿no?” he replied.

“Sí… ni modo.”

He nodded.

“Está bien.”

You smiled a little more, relaxing.

“No te asusté entonces?”

He shook his head.

“Para nada.”

You tapped your fingers lightly against the counter.

“…no sabía que ibas a venir,” you said.

“Yo tampoco sabía mucho,” he answered. “Solo que era sorpresa.”

You laughed softly.

“Quen casi me mata del susto.”

“Sí parecía,” he teased.

You nudged his arm lightly.

“Oye.”

Another small pause.

Comfortable.

“¿Siempre ves mis historias?” you asked, a little teasing.

He shrugged.

"Pues la verdad cuando puedo.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Ajá…”

He smiled a little.

“¿Y tú? ¿Siempre haces esos videos?”

You laughed.

“Sí… ya es costumbre.”

“No están mal.”

“No me animes.”

“Demasiado tarde.”

You both laughed quietly.

You shifted your weight, looking at him again.

“…me cayó bien conocerte,” you said, more genuine now.

“Igual,” he replied.

That quiet again

but softer.

“Bueno,” you said after a second, “la próxima sí cocino algo bien.”

“Eso espero,” he said, amused.

“Intenté.”

“Más o menos.”

You gasped.

“Qué grosero.”

He laughed.

And it just felt…

normal.

Someone from the crew called your name.

You glanced over.

“Creo que me necesitan.”

He nodded.

“Sí.”

You took a small step back.

“…nos vemos?”

“Sí,” he said simply.

You smiled once more before walking off

feeling lighter than before.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing forced.

Just…

a good first meeting.

˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°

(Did yall catch my "la verdad" reference? I swear Mora says it in every interview. Anyways I always try to keep these very appropriate because of Mora but sometimes the translation might sound weird so sorry. Anyways thank you for the support. Love yall!ᰔᩚ)

[lovecvre16]

♪ ₊ ⊹Armando González x Reader ⊹ ₊ ♪

Reader accidentally walks into the wrong hotel room

(Reader, Hormiga)

🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧

You weren’t paying attention.

Headphones in. Phone in hand. Scrolling.

You tapped the keycard without even looking at the number.

Beep.

Door opens.

You walk in like it’s yours.

“Finally…” you mumble, kicking the door shut behind you, still looking at your phone.

“I swear if they messed up my reservation—”

You drop your bag.

Take off one headphone

And that’s when you hear the bathroom door open.

You look up.

Freeze.

Because standing there

Fresh out of the shower.

Still dripping.

In just a towel.

Is some guy you’ve never seen before.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

You scream a little.

“¡PERDÓN!”

You spin around instantly, covering your eyes.

“¡LO SIENTO—ME EQUIVOQUÉ DE CUARTO!”

You rush toward the door

But

“¿Qué haces?”

His voice is annoyed.

Like actually annoyed.

You stop, confused.

“…¿Salir?” you say, still turned around.

“Porque estás claramente—en tu cuarto—”

“Este es mi cuarto,” he says, sharper now.

You turn a little, frowning.

“Pues sí, por eso me voy—”

“Entonces ¿por qué entraste como si fuera tu casa?”

You blink.

“…Porque pensé que era mi cuarto.”

He scoffs slightly, running a hand through his wet hair.

Clearly irritated.

“Genial.”

There’s a pause.

You both look around.

Then at each other.

Then back around again.

“…¿Qué número te dieron?” you ask.

He squints at you. “¿Qué?”

“Tu cuarto. ¿Qué número?”

“—No sé, el que me dieron.”

You stare at him.

“¿No lo revisaste?”

He gives you a look.

“…¿Tú sí?”

You slowly pull your keycard out.

Flip it.

Look at the number.

Pause.

“…No.”

He lets out a breath, already losing patience.

“Perfecto.”

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

Now you’re both standing there.

In silence.

Trying to figure it out.

Him still in a towel.

You awkwardly standing near the door.

Then suddenly

He looks at you again.

Really looks.

Eyes narrowing slightly.

And something shifts.

A small smirk.

“…¿No me reconoces?” he asks.

You blink.

“…¿De qué?”

He pauses.

The confidence cracks just a little.

“…Nada.”

You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“¿Eres… de aquí o algo?”

He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh.

Now he’s a little annoyed and offended.

“Increíble.”

You shrug.

“Perdón, traigo audífonos, no estoy viendo mucho—”

“Sí, ya vi.”

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

Before either of you can keep arguing

A knock.

Loud.

Then the door opens without waiting.

The room fills instantly.

Noise. Laughter. Chaos.

The whole Chivas team is in the room.

“¡ARMANDOO—!”

They stop.

Because of you.

Standing there.

In the room.

With him.

Still in a towel.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

You freeze.

He reacts fast.

Grabs your wrist lightly

And pulls you down to sit on the bed next to him.

“Siéntate,” he mutters quickly under his breath.

You don’t even argue.

Just sit.

Because honestly??

This is already too much.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

“…¿Y ella?” one of them asks.

You immediately grab your phone again.

Put one headphone back in.

Start scrolling.

No eye contact.

No involvement.

“Qué intensos…” you mumble quietly.

Armando runs a hand over his face, thinking fast.

“Es… amiga,” he says.

You don’t look up.

“Sí,” you add casually.

“Cálmense.”

That only makes it worse.

“¿Amiga?”

“Ajá…”

“Claro…”

You keep scrolling.

Ignoring everything.

While the team continues to laugh.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

One of the teammates isn’t laughing.

He’s watching.

Your suitcase.

Your shoes by the door.

The way you walked in earlier.

Then your keycard in your hand.

Your eyes meet for a second.

He raises an eyebrow.

Like:

…yeah, you’re not supposed to be here.

Your stomach drops.

He knows.

But he just smirks.

…and stays quiet.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

Brian is still by the door.

Still looking at you.

Still curious.

“Entonces… ¿sí eres su amiga?” he asks.

You glance up slowly.

“Eso dijo él, ¿no?”

A few laughs.

He smirks. “Pero tú no suenas convencida.”

You shrug, locking your phone.

“Depende.”

“¿De qué?”

You tilt your head slightly.

And yeah

You decide to push it.

Just for fun.

“De si hay mejores opciones,” you say casually.

The room reacts instantly.

“OOHHHH—”

Brian laughs, stepping a little closer.

“¿Ah sí?”

You nod lightly, playing along.

“Tal vez.”

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

That’s it.

That’s the moment.

Because Armando’s expression changes immediately.

He goes still.

Jaw tight.

Eyes locked on you.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” he says low.

You glance at him, unfazed.

“¿Qué?”

“Deja de jugar.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“¿Jugar qué?”

Brian looks between you two, amused now.

“Tranquilo,” he says to Armando.

“Solo estamos hablando.”

“Pues ya habló,” Armando shoots back.

Tone sharper now.

Not playful.

At all.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

You exhale, standing up.

“En serio, relájate,” you say.

“No es para tanto.”

“Para ti no,” he mutters.

You stare at him.

Because

Okay.

Now he’s actually mad.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

Brian chuckles, shaking his head.

“Creo que sí está celoso.”

“Cállate,” Armando snaps.

The room goes quiet.

Yeah.

That definitely wasn’t a joke.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

You step in quickly, trying to kill the tension.

“Ya, ya,” you say. “Se están pasando.”

You glance at Brian.

“Solo estaba molestando.”

He nods, still smirking. “Sí, ya vi.”

But he backs off.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

The vibe is off now.

Everyone feels it.

So one by one, they start leaving.

“Bueno, ya nos vamos”

“Nos vemos abajo”

“No peleen”

A few laughs, but it’s awkward now.

And then they’re gone.

Door closes.

Silence.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

You grab your phone immediately.

“…Okay,” you say.

“Ya estuvo.”

You walk toward the door, grabbing your bag.

“Voy a bajar a recepción a ver mi cuarto de verdad.”

Armando doesn’t move right away.

Just watches you.

“…¿Te vas?”

You pause, hand on the handle.

“Sí… duh.”

“...Podrías quedarte.”

You glance back at him.

He’s serious again.

Of course he is.

You sigh a little.

“Armando—”

“¿Qué?”

You turn fully now.

“Esto empezó porque entré al cuarto equivocado.”

“Y te quedaste.”

You shake your head.

“Porque no sabía qué hacer.”

A pause.

Then you add, softer

“Y porque tú tampoco.”

That hits.

You can tell.

He exhales, looking away for a second.

Then back at you.

“…Quédate,” he says again, quieter this time.

Your heart does something annoying.

You look at him.

Really look.

“…¿Para qué?”

He opens his mouth.

Stops.

Hesitates.

For the first time since you met him

He doesn’t have an answer ready.

“…Nada,” he says finally, stepping back.

“Olvídalo.”

You blink.

Because that wasn’t what you expected.

At all.

You stand there for a second longer.

“…Okay,” you say softly.

༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.༉‧₊˚.

You open the door.

Step out.

And just like that

You leave.

You can still feel his eyes on you.

Even after the door closes.

And now?

This isn’t just a mix-up anymore.

It’s unfinished.

🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧★🗝️⋆｡𖦹°‧

(Im working on the Payton king one right now but If you want to request more things, please do. Thank you for all the support. Love yall!𑣲)

[lovecvre16]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Memo Ochoa x Reader 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Reader is a youtuber

(Reader, Memo)

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡

The pool was empty.

Not just “a few people missing” empty, it was completely empty.

You stood at the edge for a second, slowly turning in a circle like you were about to get in trouble.

“…this feels illegal,” you said under your breath, already pulling your camera out.

“Like why do I have this whole place to myself?”

You set the camera down at the edge, crouching to fix the angle.

“Wait hold on, hold on why do I look like that—”

You leaned in closer.

“…okay no, we’re not starting like this.”

You adjusted it again.

Better.

Way in the back, barely noticeable

Guillermo Ochoa sat in one of the far lounge chairs, phone in hand.

He didn’t look up.

Yet.

“Hi,” you started, stepping into frame.

“So I just got here and why is nobody here?”

You turned dramatically, arms out.

“Like did I miss something? Is there another pool? Am I at the ugly one”

You gasped.

“Wait… this might be the ugly pool.”

You looked back at the camera.

“…but it’s still nice, so now I’m confused.”

You slid into the water with a small sigh, immediately relaxing.

“Okay no, I’m not complaining. This is peaceful. This is—”

You paused.

A thought crossed your face.

“Oh wait.”

You backed up a little, eyes narrowing.

“No because what if I do something cool.”

You looked straight into the camera.

“Like imagine I do a flip right now.”

You paused.

“…I might eat it.”

A beat.

Then you nodded.

“Okay we’re doing it.”

From the chair, Memo glanced up briefly at the shift in your tone.

You stepped back, hyping yourself up under your breath.

“Okay ... don’t embarrass yourself, don’t embarrass yourself—”

You bent your knees.

Jumped

And did a quick, slightly messy flip into the water.

Not perfect.

But not bad.

You came up immediately, pushing your hair back with a grin.

“WAIT—”

You swam closer to the camera.

“I actually did that!”

You laughed, a little proud, a little shocked.

In the background, Memo had fully looked up now.

Brows slightly raised.

Interested.

You didn’t notice.

You were too busy feeling yourself.

“Okay no, I ate that a little bit,” you said, nodding.

“Like—”

You froze.

Eyes drifting to the side.

The kiddie surfboard float.

“…oh no.”

You turned slowly back to the camera.

“Now I have to try this.”

Memo leaned forward slightly in his chair, phone forgotten.

You dragged the float closer, already laughing.

“This is where I get humbled. I can feel it.”

You placed it down carefully.

Took a breath.

“Okay... balance”

You stepped onto it—

For half a second, you held it.

Then your foot slipped.

The board shot out.

And you went down hard.

Water splashed everywhere as you disappeared completely.

For a split second

Nothing.

Memo sat up slightly.

Then you shot back up, coughing, pushing your hair out of your face.

“OH—”

You grabbed the edge quickly, catching your breath.

“…I almost died.”

You stared at the camera, wide-eyed.

“No, because that was personal.”

You wiped your face, half-laughing, half-embarrassed.

“I really thought I had that too—like I really believed in myself.”

Behind you, Memo let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly.

Still watching.

Still not looking away.

You didn’t notice.

You were too busy recovering.

“Okay wait—redo? No. No redo. We’re done.”

You swam back out a little, trying to regain your dignity.

Then suddenly—

You struck a pose.

One arm up, chin tilted, like you were modeling.

“…be honest,” you said. “Am I giving?”

You held it for two seconds.

Then broke.

Laughing at yourself.

“Okay no, I look stupid.”

You covered your face briefly.

"Anyways lets head back before anyone sees my crusty ass"

ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ

The hallway was quiet, carpet soft under your steps.

Your camera was way too close to your face.

Like… aggressively close.

“Okay wait don’t judge me,” you whispered.

“I look crazy right now, I know.”

Curls in pins. No makeup. Bare face, a little shiny, a little tired.

You angled the camera slightly.

“This is pre-getting ready. I’m going to the café because I need coffee before I can finish getting ready.”

You kept walking.

“I’m telling you right now, if this coffee is bad, I’m going back to my room disappointed.”

You stopped near a wall light.

“Wait lighting check.”

You leaned in closer.

“…okay wait—this isn’t that bad.”

Behind you, at the end of the hallway

Memo.

Leaning slightly against the wall, watching again.

Quiet. Curious.

You turned the camera outward briefly.

“Imagine someone just watching me do this,” you said.

“I would actually pass away.”

You turned it back.

“…like that’s so embarrassing.”

Memo almost smiled.

ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ

Eventually it was time for your reservation.

The restaurant felt calm.

Too calm.

You were halfway through your meal, actually enjoying it for once instead of just talking, your camera still propped up in front of you.

“Okay wait this is actually really good,” you said, nodding as you chewed.

“Like I would come back just for this.”

You leaned closer.

“And I don’t say that lightly.”

You smiled to yourself, reaching for your drink

When the noise started.

Louder voices. Laughter.

You glanced up instinctively.

“…wait.”

Your eyes landed on a table across the room.

A group of players. Loud, relaxed, taking up space like they belonged there.

And then

Him.

Guillermo Ochoa.

Your stomach dropped.

“…oh my god,” you whispered immediately, head dipping down fast like that alone would make you invisible.

You grabbed your glass, bringing it up to your face like it could shield you.

“Tell me why that’s literally him,” you muttered under your breath.

You risked another glance.

And that’s when you noticed—

He wasn’t looking at his teammates.

He wasn’t looking around.

He was looking at you.

You froze.

“…no. Im in a fucking dream right now"

You dropped your gaze instantly, tucking your chin down, pretending to fix something on your plate.

“Why is he looking at me,” you whispered quickly.

“Why is Memo Ochoa looking at me?”

You leaned closer to the camera, voice barely there.

“Be normal. Be normal. Eat your food.”

You picked up your fork.

Took a bite.

Couldn’t even taste it.

“…I can’t eat,” you muttered.

Across the room

“¿Otra vez?” one of the players said, noticing where Memo’s gaze had gone.

“Ya deja de verla,” another added, laughing quietly.

Memo exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

But he didn’t look away.

Back at your table

You were spiraling.

"Wait did he see me fall in the pool?” you whispered.

You covered part of your face with your hand.

“Nah. He too busy to be at the pool”

You sat there for another minute, trying to act normal.

Trying to finish.

Failing.

“…okay no I’m leaving,” you said under your breath.

You reached forward, quickly turning the camera off.

No outro.

Nothing.

Just done.

ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ

Outside, the air felt cooler.

You exhaled the second you stepped out, like you’d been holding your breath the entire time.

“…oh my god,” you said, immediately pulling your phone out again.

You opened TikTok, flipping to the front camera.

“Okay wait quick distraction,” you muttered.

A song started playing from your phone, one you knew.

You held the phone up, instantly lip-syncing the words, a small smirk forming like you were trying to shake off everything from inside.

You soon set your phone down. 

You did a small turn, showing your outfit, fixing your hair mid-shot, then posing for a second like you were in a photoshoot

…and immediately broke, laughing.

You rushed back, grabbing your phone right as the video ended.

“…okay wait, that kinda ate,” you said, out of breath.

“I’m posting it before I can hate it.”

You tapped upload without thinking twice.

“Done. No regrets.”

ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃ᥫ

You walked over to one of the swings, still holding your phone, then sat down, switching back to your camera.

“No because I need to talk about that,” you said, adjusting your grip. 

“Like I need to process that.”

You dragged your foot lightly against the ground, trying to get the swing moving.

It barely did.

“Okay wait...why is this actually hard”

You tried again.

Nothing.

You sighed.

“Anyways, so I’m literally just sitting there, minding my business, and I look up—”

You paused.

Lowered your voice.

“And it’s him.”

You leaned closer to the camera, eyes wide.

“Like the Memo Ochoa.”

You shook your head, covering your mouth for a second.

“And tell me why he was looking at me the whole time, like what did I do—”

“Déjame.”

You froze.

Your heart dropped for a completely different reason now.

Before you could react

Hands gently caught the back of the swing.

And pushed.

You moved forward smoothly this time.

A small surprised laugh slipped out of you.

You turned

And there he was.

Right behind you.

Closer than before.

Real.

Your expression shifted still a little excited, but now… nervous.

Fan nervous.

“…gracias,” you said quickly, a little awkward.

“De nada.”

You nodded, then immediately looked away for a second like you didn’t know where to look.

“…umm hi,” you added, then winced at yourself slightly.

He tilted his head just a bit, amused.

“Hola.”

You let out a small, awkward laugh.

“…perdón si estoy… rara,” you said, gesturing vaguely.

“Es que—”

You stopped yourself.

Shook your head.

“…te vi adentro.”

He nodded.

“Yo también.”

You swallowed, then laughed nervously.

“Sí… me di cuenta.”

A pause.

You gripped your phone a little tighter.

“…yo—um—soy fan,” you admitted, a little quieter now.

“Pero no como fan … loca,” you added quickly.

He almost smiled.

“Ajá.”

You nodded like that made sense.

“…y creo que me viste caerme,” you added, already regretting saying it.

“Sí,” he said simply.

You closed your eyes for a second.

“…qué pena.”

“Un poco,” he teased lightly.

You laughed, covering your face briefly.

“Okay yeah, un poco mucho.”

The swing moved gently again.

You glanced at him, then away, then back again.

“…gracias por empujar el columpio,” you said, trying to sound normal.

“De nada.”

Another pause.

Awkward but not bad.

Just… real.

You looked down at your phone, then back at him.

“…I wasn’t lying though,” you added softly. “Si soy un fan.”

He watched you for a second.

Then nodded once.

“Lo sé.”

That made you blink.

“…¿cómo que lo sabes?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Just gave a small shrug.

And stayed right there.

With you.'

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡

(This was heavily inspired by Vanilla mace and her hotel videos. Also a very embarrassing experience of eating shit. Anyways thank you so much for the support. Love yall! -`♡´-)

[lovecvre16]

⋆.˚Armando González x Reader⋆.˚

Reader and Hormiga trying to give hints to their fans that they're dating

(Reader, Hormiga)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪

No one understood it.

And at this point?

It was starting to make people mad.

Because the hints weren’t subtle anymore.

They were everywhere.

And yet…

Nothing.

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

It started with the jersey.

You posted a mirror pic, casual, like it meant nothing. His jersey was tied in the back so it can fit better but it usually fit very loose.  

Caption: “just chillin 🤍”

Comments flooded in seconds.

“WHY HIS JERSEY???” “girl answer the question 😭” “she probably just a fan omg”

You liked a random comment.

Not the ones asking.

Just one that said:

“cute outfit”

He saw it.

“¿Por qué no dices nada?”

 “Porque es más chistoso así”

“Se están desesperando”

“Me encanta”

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

A few days later—

He posted.

Nothing special.

Just a photo dump.

Training. Cleats. Locker room.

And then…

One picture.

He’s sitting down, relaxed, mirror behind him.

And there you are.

Well—

Not really.

Just your legs crossed on his bed. Your shoes. Your hand barely visible, nails done holding your phone.

No face.

No proof.

Just enough to ruin people’s sanity.

“WHO IS THAT???” “bro stop playing 😭” “this gotta be the same girl from the jersey post” “nah y’all reaching”

You sent him a screenshot.

“Ya casi le atinan ”

“Casi, pero no”

“Pobres”

“Ni modo”

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁

Then came the TikTok.

You were just filming a “get ready with me.”

Music playing. Casual.

But behind you?

A shelf.

With two figures.

Naruto.

Goku.

Very specific.

Very him.

The comments noticed.

Of course they did.

“WAITTTT doesn’t he have those???” “nah a lot of ppl do 😭” “coincidence fr”

You read them out loud while he sat behind you, off camera.

 “Dicen que es coincidencia”

“Qué bueno”

 “Ya ni disimulas”

“Tú tampoco”

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

Another day.

Another coincidence.

You both posted pictures.

Different outfits.

Different poses.

Same wall.

Same lighting.

Same exact spot.

Still—

Nothing.

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

It got worse when you talked about him.

Because you did.

A lot.

But never the way they expected.

“He’s funny,” you said in an interview, smiling.

“But like… a little annoying.”

The comments exploded.

“SHE DON’T EVEN LIKE HIM 😭” “friendzone crazy” “she’s always dragging him LMAOOO”

Later that night—

“¿Molesto otra vez?”

“Porque sí eres”

 “Entonces ya no te hablo”

“A ver cuánto duras”

“Ni un día”

“Exacto”

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁

His teammates didn’t help.

At all.

During a live—

“Este güey siempre está sonriendo al celular…”

“Siempre anda hablando con alguien…”

“Con alguien que usa su jersey…”

He shoved them away, laughing.

You watched the live, texting him.

 “Tus amigos hablan mucho”

“Son unos metiches”

“Pero dicen la verdad”

 “Cállate”

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

Your friends joined in too.

Posting you.

Posting him.

Posting both of you in the same places—

Just never together.

Always one second apart.

One frame off.

One detail missing.

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

Fans started making theories.

Long threads.

TikToks.

Edits.

Connecting everything.

Or trying to.

“OKAY HEAR ME OUT—” “there’s NO WAY this is accidental” “BUT WHY WOULD THEY HIDE IT???” “I feel like we’re being played 😭”

You were.

They just didn’t know how badly.

. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ . ݁₊ ⊹ .. ݁₊ ⊹ ᰔ .

One night, you were both scrolling through everything.

TikToks. Comments. Edits.

People zooming in.

Enhancing.

Comparing backgrounds.

Trying so hard.

You leaned into him, laughing.

“¿Por qué no entienden?” you said between laughs.

He shook his head, smiling.

“Porque no quieren.”

You showed him another comment.

“I SWEAR THEY’RE DATING DIFFERENT PEOPLE BUT IN THE SAME PLACES”

You lost it.

“NO PUEDO—” you laughed.

He grabbed your phone, reading more.

“Están inventando todo menos la verdad,” he said.

You nodded.

“Literally.”

He looked at you, smirking.

“¿Les decimos?”

You paused.

Thought about it.

Then shook your head.

“No.”

He smiled wider.

“Mejor no.”

You leaned back against him, still laughing.

“Que sigan.”

He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Que se vuelvan locos.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱⊹ ࣪

(Finally feeding you guys of the otaku himself , La Hormiga. Thank you for all the support. Love yall!‹𝟹)

[lovecvre16]

☁︎ Gilberto Mora x Reader ☁︎

Reader is in a secret relationship with Gilberto Mora

Reader is 17

(Reader, Mora, Memo, Daniel)

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Fresh call-ups had arrived, everyone introducing themselves, laughing, trying to fit in. You stayed near the sidelines like always—close enough to watch, far enough not to raise questions.

From across the field, Mora noticed you.

Of course he did.

He jogged over, slowing as he reached you, eyes quickly scanning around before settling on you.

“Hola.”

You smiled softly.

“Hola”

He nodded toward the group behind him.

“Ven… te presento.”

You hesitated.

“¿Como qué?”

He shrugged slightly.

“Como amiga.”

There it was.

You forced a small smile.

“Está bien.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊*ੈ✩‧

“Chicos, ella es mi amiga,” he said simply in English.

You waved a little.

“Hola, mucho gusto”

A few of them greeted you—

But one of the new players froze mid-step.

“…No way.”

You blinked.

He stepped closer, eyes wide.

“Wait—hold on… is that you?”

Your heart skipped.

“…Daniel?”

His face broke into a huge smile.

“Yo, I knew it!”

You laughed, instantly pulling him into a hug.

“Oh my God, it’s been forever!”

“Since middle school!” he said, pulling back but still holding your arms. “Where have you been??”

“Everywhere,” you laughed.

“I didn’t even know you played professionally now.”

“Yeah, barely,” he joked.

“What about you? What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting,” you said.

The two of you kept talking—fast, excited, slipping fully into English without even noticing.

Mora stood there.

Quiet.

Watching.

He didn’t understand everything—but he didn’t need to.

The way Daniel stood close.

The way you laughed so easily.

The way he kept looking at you like he already knew you.

It bothered him.

A lot.

“And you look good,” Daniel added casually, smiling.

“Like, really good.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

“Shut up. You know I have a boyfriend, right? ”

“No way.”

"You also had a glow up" he moved closer

Mora’s jaw tightened.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Later, when things finally broke apart and everyone went their own way, Mora found you again.

He didn’t waste time.

“¿Quién era ese?”

You blinked.

“Daniel—te iba a explicar—”

“¿Por qué estaba tan cerca de ti?”

His tone was sharper now.

You frowned.

“What?”

“Estaba pegado a ti,” he said, frustration slipping through.

“Y tú… riéndote con él.”

Your expression shifted.

“Gilberto…”

“¿Qué?” he pressed.

“Ni entiendo todo lo que dicen, pero no soy tonto.”

You crossed your arms slightly.

“Solo es un amigo.”

“Sí, claro,” he muttered.

“Todos dicen lo mismo.”

That stung.

“¿Sabes qué? Mejor déjalo.”

You shook your head and turned away.

This time—

You didn’t wait for him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Te pasaste.”

Mora turned.

Guillermo Ochoa leaned against the wall, watching him.

Mora exhaled sharply.

“No sabes—”

“Sí sé,” Memo interrupted calmly. “Lo suficiente.”

Mora looked away, jaw tight.

“No me gustó.”

Memo nodded.

“Eso no es el problema.”

Silence.

“El problema es cómo reaccionaste,” Memo continued.

Mora stayed quiet.

“¿Le preguntaste quién era?” Memo asked.

“…No.”

“¿Entendías lo que estaban diciendo?”

Mora hesitated.

“…No.”

Memo raised an eyebrow.

“Entonces te inventaste toda la historia tú solo.”

That hit.

Mora ran a hand through his hair.

“Se veía mal.”

Memo stepped closer.

“Mira… si vas a estar con alguien—”

Mora froze slightly at that.

Memo noticed.

“…¿O qué? ¿No están juntos?”

Mora didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

Memo sighed.

“Peor tantito.”

He shook his head.

“Te pones celoso, la tratas mal… y ni siquiera puedes admitir lo que es para ti.”

Mora swallowed.

Memo’s tone softened slightly, but his words didn’t.

“Así la vas a perder.”

That one stayed.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You were outside now, trying to breathe.

Trying not to cry.

Trying not to overthink everything he said.

Footsteps approached.

You already knew.

“Espera.”

You didn’t turn right away.

But he stopped in front of you anyway.

“Por favor.”

You finally looked at him.

Your arms were crossed.

Your expression guarded.

“¿Qué?”

He took a breath.

“Perdón.”

You didn’t react.

“Por cómo hablé… y por cómo actué.”

Silence.

“La regué.”

You looked at him for a moment.

“You didn’t even let me explain.”

“Lo sé.”

He stepped a little closer.

“Pero quiero escuchar.”

You hesitated… then sighed.

“Daniel es mi amigo de la infancia.”

Mora blinked.

“…¿Qué?”

“Crecimos juntos. No lo veía desde hace años.”

Everything in his face shifted.

The anger.

The tension.

Gone.

Replaced with guilt.

“Yo pensé que—”

“Ya sé lo que pensaste,” you cut in softly.

“Pero no confiaste en mí lo suficiente para preguntar”

That hurt more than anything.

Mora nodded slowly.

“Tienes razón.”

There was a pause.

Then—

“Perdón… de verdad.”

You looked at him, your expression softening just a little.

But not completely.

“La verdad… sí dolió.” you admitted.

“Lo sé.”

He hesitated.

“¿Estamos bien?”

You looked away for a second.

“…No sé.”

That hurt—but he accepted it.

“Está bien.”

There was a small silence.

Then—

He exhaled, quieter now.

“Pero… hay algo que sí sé.”

You looked back at him.

He met your eyes this time.

No hesitation.

No hiding.

“Me gustas.”

Your breath caught.

“Mucho.”

Everything stilled.

Because that?

That he had never said out loud before.

Not like that.

Not directly.

He swallowed slightly, but didn’t look away.

“Y creo que por eso reaccioné así.”

Your heart was racing now.

“…Gilberto—”

“Y no quiero seguir actuando como si no fueras importante,” he added, voice lower.

There it was.

The truth.

Not a “friend.”

Not something hidden behind excuses.

You searched his face.

“Entonces no lo hagas.”

He nodded once.

“Sí.”

A small pause.

Then you stepped a little closer.

Not fully closing the distance.

But enough.

“Está bien.”

Relief flickered across his face.

Not full forgiveness.

Not yet.

But something.

And for now

That was enough.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘˚⋆𐙚｡༘˚⋆𐙚｡

(Guys please im sorry If Im not uploading consistently. Im currently busy with a summer program so please just give me a few days. Thank you for all the support. Love yall!⋆.ೃ࿔🌸*:･)

[lovecvre16]

⋆˚࿔ Gilberto Mora x Reader ⋆˚࿔

Reader is an actor who is being shipped with Gilberto Mora

Reader is 17

(Reader, Mora, Hormiga)

˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°

Being a well-known actor meant one thing: interviews. Lots of them. Especially now, with your latest series blowing up overnight. The show had taken over social media, and so had you.

But it wasn’t just your acting that people loved.

It was you.

Your chaotic, unapologetic personality had fans hooked. One scroll through your Instagram and it was obvious—you were a huge anime fan and an even bigger simp. Your page was filled with reposts of your favorite anime men, celebrity crushes, and the most unhinged, goofy videos. And the best part? You didn’t care. You owned it.

Now, you were sitting beside your co-star, as the cameras began to roll. Another interview.

“Alright, we’re here with the stars of the new hit series—”

the interviewer began, smiling widely.

The first part went as expected—questions about filming, behind-the-scenes moments, and the ridiculous pictures you and your cast had taken on set. You laughed easily, leaning into the humor, even exposing a few embarrassing stories.

Then, the conversation shifted.

“So,” the interviewer said, glancing at their notes,

“I heard you’re really into football.”

Your eyes lit up instantly.

“Oh, yeah. Big time.”

“Any favorite teams?”

“Mexico, always,” you said proudly.

“I’ve been a fan for years.”

Your co-star glanced at you, amused at how quickly your energy changed.

“I’ve actually met a few players at events,” you continued casually.

“Like Lamine Yamal, and Memo Ochoa. A literal legend.”

The interviewer leaned forward.

“Wait, really?”

You nodded.

“Yeah! And… La Hormiga even follows me on Instagram, which was honestly eally surprising.”

“What?” the interviewer laughed.

“I thought he only followed people close to him.”

“I thought so too,”

you shrugged.

“Guess I’m just special.”

The room filled with light laughter.

“So,” the interviewer continued, clearly intrigued now,

“is there anyone you haven’t met yet that you’d want to?”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Gilberto Mora.”

The name left your lips instantly—no pause, no second thought.

And then it hit you.

Your eyes widened, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your co-star burst out laughing beside you.

The interviewer grinned.

“Wow. That was fast.”

“I—” you started, already flustered.

“You really want to meet him, huh?” they teased.

“I mean… you guys are around the same age.”

You tried to play it off, failing miserably.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind…”

What no one knew—what the cameras didn’t catch—was the small photocard of Gilberto Mora hanging from your purse, tucked between cute keychains and charms.

⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚

After that interview aired, everything changed.

Clips of your reaction spread everywhere.

Fans replayed the moment over and over—the way you said his name so quickly, the way you panicked right after. And then… someone noticed it.

The photocard.

Screenshots zoomed in, edits circled it, and suddenly, it was all anyone could talk about.

“THE PHOTOCARD???” “SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR 😭” “THE WAY SHE SAID HIS NAME IM CRYING”

What started as jokes quickly turned into something bigger.

Ship edits.

At first, you didn’t really keep up with them. Your schedule was packed, and your notifications were insane. But eventually, curiosity got the best of you.

And when you saw them?

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Edits of you and Mora side by side. Fake “moments.” Dramatic slow-motion clips. Romantic music layered over completely unrelated footage.

They were ridiculous.

And you loved them.

Soon enough, you were liking them. Then reposting them. Even commenting occasionally, making fans lose their minds even more.

More edits started coming out,

They reached La Hormiga first.

⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚

“Güey, tienes que ver esto,”

La Hormiga said, walking into the locker room with his phone already in hand, barely holding in his laugh.

Mora looked up from where he was sitting, confused. “¿Qué?”

“La actriz,”

“La que dijo tu nombre en la entrevista.”

he smirked.

“¿Cuál?”

Mora frowned slightly

Without saying anything else, La Hormiga shoved the phone in front of him.

It was an edit.

One of many.

Your interview clip, slowed down dramatically—the exact moment you said “Gilberto Mora” without hesitation—cut with clips of him playing, smiling, celebrating. Romantic music played in the background, the captions reading:

“He doesn’t even know she exists… yet.”

Mora blinked.

“…¿Qué es esto?”

he muttered, trying to sound unbothered.

La Hormiga burst out laughing.

“Espérate, hay más.”

He swiped.

Another edit. This time with screenshots of your Instagram—your likes, your reposts… even a zoomed-in picture of the photocard on your bag.

Mora sat up straighter.

“¿Ese soy yo?”

he asked, pointing at the tiny photocard.

“Sí, güey,” .

“Te trae en la bolsa.”

La Hormiga grinned

Mora let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

“No manches…”

But he didn’t look away.

“Y no solo eso,”

La Hormiga continued, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Mira esto.”

He opened your Instagram.

Your story.

Another edit.

Reposted by you.

Mora stared at the screen a little longer than he meant to.

“…¿Por qué lo comparte?”

he asked, quieter this time.

La Hormiga raised an eyebrow.

“Porque le gustas, obvio.”

“Cállate,”

Mora shot back quickly, though there was no real bite to it.

“Güey, hasta dijiste que no sigues a cualquiera,”

La Hormiga added, nudging him.

“Y ahí estás, siguiéndola.”

Mora rolled his eyes.

“Ni la conozco.”

“Pues conócela,”

La Hormiga said simply, shrugging.

“Ya medio mundo los está shipeando.”

Mora huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Están bien locos.”

“Sí,”

“Pero no dijiste que no te gusta.”

La Hormiga nodded.

Mora paused.

Just for a second.

“…Ya, cállate,”

he said again, but this time he couldn’t hide the small smile forming.

La Hormiga noticed immediately.

“Ahhh, míralo,” he teased, grinning.

“Sí te importa.”

Mora grabbed a towel and tossed it at him.

“Lárgate.”

But even after La Hormiga walked away—

Mora looked back at the phone.

At your repost.

At the way you laughed in the edits.

And for the first time—

He opened your profile.

⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚ 𓇼 ˚｡⋆⋆｡𖦹 ˚

Later that night, your phone buzzed.

A new notification.

You didn’t think much of it at first until you saw the name.

@gil_morita started following you.

Your heart skipped.

“¿Qué…?” you whispered, staring at your screen in disbelief.

And then—

Another notification.

A like.

On one of the edits you reposted.

You covered your mouth, eyes wide.

“No puede ser…”

Somewhere else—

Mora locked his phone, trying to ignore the way his teammates were already yelling across the room.

“¡Ya vimos, Mora!”

“¡El fan número uno!”

“¡Invítala ya!”

He shook his head, smiling to himself despite it.

Maybe…

just maybe…

this wasn’t so crazy after all.

˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°📸⋆｡˚˙✧˖°

(A lot people were requesting more of morita so here you guys go. I hope yall love it. Thank you for all the support, Love yall!♡⃛📷)

[lovecvre16]

Happy Birthday to this beautiful man!!!💞💞💞💞

(I will be making more fics for him)

[lovecvre16]

ྀིGilberto Mora x Reader ྀི

Reader is in a secret relationship with Gilberto Mora

Reader is 17

(Reader, Mora, Jude)

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪

In this AU, Mexico wins against England.

When you heard the news that Mexico would play against England, you were nervous. England wasn’t an easy team, and they definitely didn’t play around when it came to winning.

But at the same time, you were excited—because you were going to see him.

Jude Bellingham.

One of your biggest soccer crushes. I mean, he was fine, and you had followed him more and more over the years—but the fact that you were going to meet him? That was on another level.

What made things more complicated was your secret relationship with Gilberto Mora, the youngest player on the Mexican national team. He was only 17, already loved by fans, and incredibly talented.

You had been together for two years, but only your close family, friends, and a few teammates knew. Gilberto didn’t want anyone seeing you with him publicly.

Your relationship stayed hidden—secret dates, stolen moments. In public, he acted distant and tough, but in private, he was clingy, affectionate, and loved to spoil you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

You were waiting patiently for your boyfriend as he got ready for the game.

You had your headphones on, scrolling through music, trying to calm yourself down from all the loud noise and energy around you. Just as you picked a song, you heard footsteps.

You assumed it was his team, so you looked up—

But it was England.

You froze slightly, suddenly aware that you were the only one wearing a Mexico jersey. Still, as the players walked past, most just gave you polite smiles.

Then you saw him.

Jude Bellingham.

And as if the timing couldn’t get any crazier, “I Just Died in Your Arms” by Cutting Crew started playing in your headphones.

Your brain completely shut off—but your mouth didn’t.

“Hey Jude, I’m such a huge fan of you.”

He had been walking with focus, but the moment he heard you, he stopped and turned, walking up to you.

“Hey, it’s nice meeting a fan especially one rooting for my rival team.”

You laughed nervously.

“I mean, I’m Mexican by blood… but that doesn’t stop me from being a big fan of yours.”

He smiled.

“Thanks, I really appreciate the support. Well, I’ve got to go—it was nice meeting you.”

“Bye, it was also nice meeting you.”

He walked off toward the field, leaving you completely stunned.

A huge smile spread across your face.

But what you didn’t know… was that Mora had seen everything.

The Mexican team was already out, letting England walk in first.

From the corner, Mora had watched the entire interaction—how nervous you got, how bright your smile was.

And he wasn’t happy.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

You finally sat down to watch the match, surrounded by the other girlfriends and wives. It was intimidating, but you held yourself together.

You were so nervous that you didn’t even realize you had been staring off, your eyes landing on Jude again.

Down on the field, Mora noticed.

And the longer it went on, the more irritated he became.

Eventually, you looked away and finally met his gaze.

He looked pissed.

You knew you messed up.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

England wasn’t playing around. They were aggressive and rough.

Things escalated when one of England’s players got a red card.

The tension was high. You could see it wearing on Mora—he looked stressed, like he needed a break.

England scored first.

But Mexico answered with a goal of their own.

You shot up from your seat, cheering loudly, almost falling over in excitement as you screamed for Mora.

From the corner of the field, Jude noticed.

He followed your gaze—right to Mora.

And that’s when it clicked.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

Mexico scored again.

They won.

You rushed down, heart racing, ready to congratulate your boyfriend.

But on your way—you ran into Jude again.

And suddenly you remembered how much Mora admired him. He had talked about him so many times.

You walked up to him.

“Hey, good job honestly. You guys were doing amazing.”

He smiled slightly.

“Thank you… but we didn’t win.”

“That doesn’t stop you from being a great player.”

He smiled more genuinely this time.

“Do you want me to sign anything? Or take a picture?”

Your eyes widened.

“OMG—I didn’t even think about that. I left my phone in my bag.”

You checked your pockets… then looked down at your jersey.

Mora’s jersey.

His first Mexico jersey.

You hesitated.

Jude noticed.

“Hey, don’t worry—I got you.”

Before you could react, he pulled off his shirt.

Your brain short-circuited.

Jude Bellingham just took off his shirt in front of you.

You tried to stay calm—but this was Jude Bellingham.

He grabbed a marker, signed his own jersey, and handed it to you.

“Well, I’ve got to go clean up. It was nice meeting you… and your boyfriend.”

He walked away.

You froze.

He knew.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

You stood there for a moment before realizing the Mexico team was heading in.

You rushed over, spotting Mora, and immediately wrapped your arms around him.

“Buen trabajo, jugaste increíble.”

He didn’t hug you back.

You slowly pulled away.

His eyes dropped to the jersey in your hands.

“¿Así es como me felicitas? ¿Con la camiseta de otro hombre en las manos?”

The team awkwardly cleared out, leaving you both alone.

“Amor, te dije que soy fan…”

“Sí, lo sé. Pero estabas allá coqueteando con él en frente de todos. Y ahora con su camiseta…”

You shook your head.

“Perdón, ¿sí? Fue tonto de mi parte hacerlo en público. Pero… ¿no puedo ser solo una fan?”

“Sí puedes… pero no así. Esto va a estar en todas las redes.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“No quiero que la gente piense que estás saliendo con Jude Bellingham.”

“¡Nadie va a pensar eso! Solo soy una fan.”

There was a pause.

The tension lingered—but it wasn’t as sharp anymore.

You looked down at the jersey in your hands… then back at him.

Your voice softened.

“La verdad… esta camiseta nunca fue para mí.”

He frowned slightly.

You stepped closer, gently placing the signed jersey into his hands.

“Era para ti.”

His expression changed instantly.

Confusion… then realization.

“Sé cuánto lo admiras,” you continued quietly.

“Y pensé que te gustaría tener algo así… pero lo hice mal.”

He looked at the jersey, then at you.

The anger faded.

“Lo hiciste muy mal,” he muttered but his tone was softer now.

You let out a small laugh.

“Sí, ya sé.”

He sighed, pulling you closer this time.

“Pero… gracias.”

You smiled against him.

“¿Ya no estás enojado?”

He shrugged slightly.

“Un poco… pero se me va a pasar.”

You pulled back, raising an eyebrow.

“¿Ah sí?”

He smirked faintly.

“Depende de cómo me compenses.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him again.

“No me digas que quieres comida.”

He smirks.

“Eres imposible.

“Y tú muy fan,” he teased.

But this time—he didn’t let go.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪

(Finally was able to finish this on time. Im still working on some request so thank you to the all the people who have been patient. Thank you for the support. Love yall!ᥫ✿)

[lovecvre16]

❦Carlos Acevedo x Reader❦

This is a part two of my other Carlos Acevedo fic

Reader is a One Piece Fan

(Reader, Carlos)

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹

It had been officially three years of being in a relationship with Club Santos Laguna’s head goalkeeper, Carlos Acevedo.

You had met at the World Cup when Mexico was playing against South Korea. You worked—and still work—as a team assistant, helping teams set up and making sure everything ran smoothly.

He had noticed how shy you got around him and honestly liked you, but he was too nervous to say anything. So Guillermo Ochoa ended up asking you for him.

Ever since that day, you had been talking nonstop. You kept seeing him whenever they played at the same stadiums. You were there when he won, and also when he lost—which hurt a lot as a Mexican fan but you got through everything together.

Eventually, you started dating… and now it had been three years.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹

You had just gotten to your shared apartment. After your second year together, you decided to move into a small place, it was perfect for just the two of you.

Well… today was going to change that.

You walked in, immediately setting three boxes down.

Today was the day you were finally going to surprise him with new family members.

Earlier, you had gone to the store to buy toys and a few cute little outfits. You arranged some of them neatly into a basket for Acevedo.

Then, you carefully took the new members out of the boxes and placed them into their new bed inside the closet so Carlos wouldn’t see them. You made sure to leave water out and set timers so you could feed them on time.

You were nervous.

You had mentioned this idea to Acevedo before, but he always thought you were joking.

You weren’t.

While you waited for him to finish training, you fed little new members and got them settled so they’d stay quiet. Then you finished the basket and placed it on your shared bed.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹

You were sitting on the sofa watching one of your favorite animes, One Piece. Not only was it your favorite, but it was also a hint about the surprise.

Soon, you heard someone at the door trying to open it—you immediately knew it was him. You quickly composed yourself, trying to look relaxed.

The door opened.

Hola, mi amor. ¿Cómo estuvo tu día?

Bien, nomás fui a comprar unas cosas nuevas.

Pues está bien… yo estoy bien cansado.

Hay pizza en el refrigerador.

Sé que solo te comes dos, así que debería haber bastante para mí.

He opened the refrigerator.

¿Nomás cuatro pedazos? No manches.

Te puedo hacer algo si quieres.

No, nomás estaba bromeando.

He heated up the food in the microwave and eventually joined you on the couch.

¿Qué estás mirando?

Nomás mi favorito.

¿Otra vez con Portgas D. Ace? ¿Todavía no se muere?

Ya, cállate.

He finished all the slices and went to wash the dishes. Then he came back and leaned against you.

Tengo una sorpresa.

¿Qué es?

Mira en el cuarto.

Carlos quickly got up and rushed to the room.

By the time you got there, he was already looking at the basket.

Then he turned to you.

¿Qué son todos estos juguetes y ropa?

Es parte de tu sorpresa.

No me digas…

You slowly opened the closet door, revealing three tiny kittens.

One black and white.

One Siamese.

One orange.

¿¡TRES?

He rushed over and picked up the black-and-white kitten.

No sé qué decir… yo siempre quise gatos, pero ¿tres?

Mira sus nombres.

Ni me diste chance de ponerles nombre.

He quickly looked at the tag on the collar.

“Portgas D. Ace”

¡LOS LLAMASTE COMO LOS DE ONE PIECE!

Pues… de Luffy y sus hermanos.

He picked up each kitten to check their tags.

The orange kitten: Monkey D. Luffy.

The Siamese kitten: Sabo.

He stood there in shock… but then you saw his expression soften into a smile.

He hugged all three kittens, giving each one a kiss.

Mi nueva familia.

He leaned in and kissed you.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹

Later, you ended up back on the sofa watching One Piece, while Carlos fed Luffy and played with Sabo.

Ace didn’t leave your side.

You were truly living the dream—with your dream pets and your dream man.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁ ⟡ ܁ . ⊹ ₊ ܁.. ܁₊ ⊹

(I am getting way more request so please If you left one, I promise I'll get to it soon. Thank you so much for the support. Love yall!.✦ ݁˖)

[lovecvre16]

˖᯽ ݁˖Carlos Acevedo x Reader ˖᯽ ݁˖

The reader is a team assistant

(Reader, Carlos, Memo, Hormiga)

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ˚ ༘

You were one of the workers assigned to help during the World Cup, mainly assisting with setup and acting as a team assistant—helping players and staff with anything they needed before and after matches.

That’s how you met your now boyfriend, Carlos Acevedo.

You had been assigned to help the Mexico national team, which made you even more excited since you were Mexican too. Watching them make it this far filled you with pride.

Game day finally arrived, and you were a mix of excitement and nerves. Not just because of the match but because you had a small crush on one of the goalkeepers. The funny part? He played for your rival club, and you had been a die-hard Club América fan since you were little.

You were out on the field helping with last-minute prep when you heard the team had arrived. Your heart immediately started racing.

Your manager walked up to you.

“You’re assigned to assist the team directly today.”

Great. Just great.

As you made your way down to the locker room area, you tried to mentally prepare yourself. The moment you saw a sea of green jerseys, you knew you were there.

The players were walking in, laughing and talking among themselves. Your manager stepped forward and introduced the staff who would be assisting them, you included.

You greeted each player, shaking hands professionally. Then you got to him.

Carlos.

You instantly tensed up.

Instead of making eye contact like you usually would, you kept your gaze down slightly and just said your name.

“Carlos,” he replied.

But even after you moved on, you could feel his eyes on you the entire time.

Soon, it was time for the team to get ready. Most of your coworkers started heading out, but your manager stopped you.

“Stay outside the locker room just in case they need anything.”

So you stayed, standing near the door with one of your coworkers, casually talking.

That’s when you started hearing noise from inside.

You both looked at each other.

Slowly… you crept closer to the door.

And then

You heard a voice you instantly recognized.

Carlos.

“Oigan… ¿vieron a la chava que estaba ayudando ahorita?”

 “¿Cuál?”

“La que ni me pudo ver a la cara… está bonita.”

From inside, you heard the team go:

“Ooooooo…”

 “¡Ya cállense! Nomás se me hizo lindo que se pusiera toda nerviosa.”

“Deberías pedirle su numero”

“¿Cómo? Si ni hablé con ella, no puedo llegar así nada más…”

 “Tú déjamelo a mí.”

The team started hyping him up.

Outside, your head slowly turned to your coworker.

Her eyes went wide.

She pointed at you.

You nodded.

Both of you immediately grabbed each other’s hands, silently freaking out—jumping a little but trying not to scream.

Then suddenly

Footsteps.

You both rushed back to your spots, acting normal.

The door opened.

It was Guillermo Ochoa.

He looked around casually… saw you both… gave a small wave… and went back inside.

“Ahí está afuera.”

 “¿Qué?”

You heard laughter explode inside the room.

You could practically feel his embarrassment.

A few minutes later, it was time for the players to head out.

The door opened, and your coworker glanced at you, but you kept your composure.

As the players walked past, you smiled politely.

“Buena suerte”

You noticed Memo kept looking between you and Carlos.

When Carlos passed by, he gave you a quick dap—just like he did with others—but it still caught you off guard.

The game itself was intense.

Mexico played incredibly well, and you stayed near the sideline assisting when needed—but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Carlos.

Your coworker kept teasing you the whole time.

You brushed it off.

“He’s not that into me,” you whispered.

Mexico scored again, and you cheered loudly, full of pride.

When the match ended with a win, the energy was unreal. The players were celebrating, and you were on your phone when—

Your name was being called.

You ignored it.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Your coworker pointed behind you.

Memo was waving you over.

You walked up to him, trying to stay calm.

“Felicidades, en serio. Jugaron increíble, soy súper fan.”

“Muchas gracias, la neta sí estamos bien orgullosos… pero oye, te quería preguntar algo.”

“Sí, dígame.”

“Uno de los jugadores está interesado en ti… quería saber si le puedes pasar tu número o tu Instagram.”

You blinked.

You pointed at yourself.

“¿Yo? ¿Neta? No me esté jugando.”

 “No, en serio. Dale una oportunidad.”

You felt your heart racing.

“Eh… sí, está bien.”

He pulled you into a quick hug.

But over his shoulder—you saw Carlos.

Staring.

Not at you.

At Memo.

And he looked… jealous.

You quickly pulled away and went back to work.

Later, you walked alongside the team heading back to the locker rooms. Memo kept making small talk, trying to get to know you—but you could feel someone’s gaze behind you the whole time.

Carlos.

Once outside, Memo came out again with a phone.

You typed in your number and Instagram.

“Gracias,” he said before heading back inside.

The second the door closed—

You and your coworker leaned in again.

“Y de nada, eh… me debes diez mil pesos.”

“Gracias, pero… ¿por qué estabas muy cercas de ella?”

 “No estaba cercas, estaba hablando normal.”

 “Sí te vi.”

“¡Era para ayudarte, menso!”

“Más te vale…”

 “Ay ya, cállate y métete a bañar.”

You pulled away from the door, shocked.

Okay… so he was the jealous type.

Eventually, the players finished and started leaving one by one.

Memo stopped in front of you and handed you a signed jersey.

You almost cried.

But you held it together.

“Muchas Gracias” you said softly.

Finally

Carlos walked out.

He looked nervous.

He stopped right in front of you.

“Perdón si Memo fue medio raro… es que yo quería tu número, pero me dio pena.”

You smiled slightly.

 “Sé que las paredes no son tan gruesas.”

His eyes widened instantly.

His ears turned red.

“¿Qué? ¿Entonces… escuchaste todo?”

From a distance, Memo whistled loudly, calling him.

You leaned in slightly.

“Nomás para que sepas… a mí también se me haces lindo.”

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He froze.

Completely.

Then

“¡Acevedo!”

He snapped out of it, waved quickly, and jogged off.

You waved back, smiling.

Later that night, you finally got home, exhausted.

Your phone buzzed.

A message.

From Carlos Acevedo.

Messages:

Carlos

 “Hola, soy Carlos… la verdad me encantó el beso. Ojalá te pueda ver pronto, hermosa.”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚˚ ༘˚ ༘

(sorry for not uploading yesterday guys I just needed a quick break. I've also been getting a lot of requests but there not detailed enough. So please if you want to request something please be specific. Thank you for the support. Love yall 𓏲ּ𝄢)

[lovecvre16]

ʚ Armando González x Reader ɞ

Halloween Special

Hormiga & the reader dress up as Momo and Okarun from Dandadan

(I know it isn't even close to October but im already feeling the fall spirit)

⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･

It was around Halloween, and you could only think of one thing: couple costumes.

It was your first Halloween in a relationship with Chivas’ most handsome player, Armando González.

You had met through mutual friends. Truthfully, you already had a crush on him long before you officially met, but after getting to know him, you fell even harder.

For five years, you stayed friends, even though everyone around you knew you liked each other. Neither of you ever had the courage to say anything. Armando was just as shy as you when it came to love.

Eventually, he got tired of all the longing and decided to confess.

He showed up with a huge ramo filled with your favorite flowers, plushies of your favorite characters, and, somehow, cardboard cutouts of all your favorite anime men.

You laughed so hard you almost cried.

Then he held up a poster that read:

”¿Puedo ser tu novio?”

Of course, you said yes.

From that day on, you were inseparable.

You went to every single one of his matches to cheer him on, and afterward, you’d both go home where you’d cuddle on the couch while forcing him to watch One Piece with you.

Luckily, he didn’t mind.

You both loved anime, even if your tastes weren’t exactly the same. He’d tell you about Blue Lock, while you’d spend hours rambling about whatever anime you were currently obsessed with.

Recently, that obsession was Dandadan.

You had just finished Season 2 and couldn’t stop noticing how similar Armando was to Okarun.

Both of them took forever to confess.

Both were adorably awkward.

Meanwhile, you were definitely more like Momo—more confident, but still secretly shy whenever your feelings for him became too obvious.

So naturally…

There was only one costume you wanted.

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃𖦹˖°.🎃

Armando was at training while you sat in the family lounge watching practice.

The players were used to seeing you around by now. Some of them would even invite you onto the field during breaks just to mess around.

As soon as the whistle blew, Armando jogged over.

The second he reached you, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you.

Immediately, a chorus of whistles echoed across the field.

“¡Ehhhh!”

“¡Ya déjenlos!”

You rolled your eyes while laughing.

Truthfully…

He only did this because he knew your childhood celebrity crush had always been Memo Ochoa.

He knew it wasn’t serious.

He knew Memo was just your favorite goalkeeper growing up.

But that didn’t stop him from acting a little possessive every now and then.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him a few steps away from everyone else.

Looking down at the ground, you slowly looked back up through your eyelashes, giving him your famous puppy eyes.

He sighed immediately.

“¿Qué pasó?”

“¿Te puedo decir algo?”

“Sí puedes… pero ya sé que me vas a pedir algo.”

You dramatically gasped.

“Qué payaso eres. Ni siquiera te voy a preguntar. Solo te estoy avisando.”

He crossed his arms.

“A ver.”

“Para Halloween nos vamos a vestir de Momo y Okarun.”

His smile disappeared.

“Pero yo quería ser alguien de Blue Lock.”

“Tú sabes que no me gusta ese anime.”

“Pero—”

“No hay peros.”

“…”

“O aceptas…”

“…”

“…o ya no te doy besos y me voy a mi casa.”

He immediately panicked.

“¡Nooo! Está bien, está bien. Lo que tú quieras.”

A huge smile spread across your face.

“Ese es mi otaku.”

You kissed his cheek.

“Voy a pedir los disfraces.”

Before he could answer, the rest of the players started yelling.

“¡Hormigaaa!”

“¡Ya vente!”

He sighed.

“Ya me están hablando.”

He leaned down for one last kiss.

“Te quiero.”

“Yo también. Bye.”

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.𖦹˖°.🎃

You went home a little earlier than Armando that day so you could order the costumes.

Luckily, you found the perfect ones.

Without hesitation…

You clicked Order.

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃

A week later, they arrived.

You had already finished your makeup while Armando hid in the bathroom, changing into Okarun’s outfit.

A few minutes later…

The bathroom door slowly opened.

He awkwardly stepped out.

“¿Me veo guapo?”

You turned around.

Stared.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three…

Then completely lost it.

You burst into laughter so hard that tears filled your eyes.

He frowned.

“¿Qué?”

You couldn’t even answer.

You laughed so hard your knees gave out, leaving you sitting on the floor trying to breathe.

He crossed his arms.

“Cómo te gusta burlarte de mí.”

He turned around.

“Ya me lo voy a quitar.”

Still laughing, you quickly stood up and grabbed his wrist.

“No, no, no. Perdón.”

You cupped his face.

“Te ves muy guapo.”

He smiled.

“¿De verdad?”

You nodded before kissing him and putting the last minute touch, okarun's round glasses.

“Muchísimo.”

He smiled against your lips.

“Bueno… ¿ya?”

“¿Ya qué?”

“Ya vámonos.”

You blinked.

“¿A dónde?”

“¿Cómo que a dónde?”

“Nunca hicimos planes.”

He chuckled.

“Los muchachos organizaron una fiesta.”

You gasped dramatically.

“¿Y no me dijiste?”

“Era sorpresa.”

You looked down at your cosplay.

“Ahora siento que vine demasiado arreglada.”

He looked you up and down.

“Te ves bien.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“¿Nomás bien?”

“…”

“Pues vete solo.”

He laughed before hugging you.

“Te ves hermosa.”

“Así me gusta.”

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.𖦹˖°.🎃

When they arrived…

The “party” was honestly just a bunch of Mexico National Team players hanging out in costumes while drinking and laughing.

You immediately felt overdressed.

Especially since you had made your Momo skirt a little longer.

No way were you wearing the anime version.

As you walked in, the first person to notice you was Carlos Acevedo.

He was dressed as a vampire.

Honestly…

The costume was ridiculously good.

The fake fangs.

The cape.

Even the makeup.

He looked up.

Immediately recognizing you two.

“Me encantaron sus disfraces.”

He pointed at Armando.

“Okarun…”

Then pointed at you.

“…y Momo, ¿verdad?”

You smiled proudly.

“¡Sí! Aunque él no tuvo opción.”

Armando quietly started making the imaginary help signal.

You smacked his arm.

Carlos laughed.

“Bueno, los demás los están esperando.”

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃𖦹˖°.🎃

When you reached the group, everyone turned.

Quiñones looked confused.

“¿Y ustedes de qué vienen?”

“Somos personajes de mi anime favorito.”

He looked at Armando.

“Déjame adivinar… ¿Hormiga no tuvo opción?”

You nodded.

“Exactamente.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Just then…

Memo Ochoa walked over.

Except…

He wasn’t wearing a costume.

He was literally wearing a Mexico training outfit.

You laughed immediately.

“No manches.”

“¿Ese fue tu disfraz?”

He shrugged proudly.

“Soy Memo Ochoa.”

Everyone laughed.

He looked at you.

“La verdad sí les quedaron muy bien los disfraces.”

Armando immediately wrapped an arm around your waist.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“hormiga… cálmate. Somos amigos.”

“Sí, cómo no.”

You looked over at Memo.

A mischievous grin spread across your face.

He instantly understood.

“Pues alguien sí se ve muy guapa.”

You dramatically placed a hand over your heart.

“Muchas gracias, guapo.”

Armando hugged you even tighter.

Memo had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“No, ya. Estoy jugando.”

Armando still looked unconvinced.

“Más te vale.”

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.𖦹˖°.🎃

Perfect timing.

Gilberto Mora walked in.

Except…

He was wearing the exact same Mexico outfit as Memo.

You looked between them.

Then started laughing again.

“No puede ser.”

Memo pointed at him.

“¡Me copió!”

“Mentira.”

Gilberto shrugged.

“Yo llegué primero.”

The room exploded into laughter.

Then Mora looked at you.

“Oigan…”

“Deberían hacer un TikTok.”

You immediately turned toward Armando.

“¡Sí!”

“No.”

“Por favor.”

“No.”

He sighed dramatically.

“Ya me obligaste a ponerme esto.”

“Pues ahora TikTok.”

“Estoy siendo torturado.”

You smiled sweetly.

“Y te encanta.”

“…”

“Sí.”

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃𖦹˖°.🎃

After scrolling through TikTok for a few minutes…

You found it.

“There!”

You handed Armando your phone.

It was the trend where Okarun stood in front of the camera while Momo danced in random places throughout the background to the Creepy Nuts opening.

He sighed.

“Está bien.”

You smiled.

“¿Sí?”

“Pero solo porque te amo.”

You kissed his cheek.

“Yo también.”

Then another idea appeared.

“Oye…”

He already looked scared.

“¿Qué?”

“Los demás deberían salir atrás.”

He laughed.

“No creo que acepten.”

“Pregúntales.”

He sighed dramatically.

“Está bien.”

𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃 ̟࿔*:⋆𖦹˖°.🎃𖦹˖°.🎃

A few minutes later…

Everyone had somehow agreed.

"Más te vale subir ese TikTok." Raúl laughed.

"Espero que esto no me dé pena después." Brian joked.

You set your phone against a speaker.

Music started.

Armando stood perfectly serious in front of the camera while you danced dramatically in the background.

Halfway through…

Memo casually walked behind him doing the dance perfectly.

Everyone burst into laughter.

“¡Otra!”

This time it was Mora.

He popped out from behind a couch and immediately just started posing as memo. 

Now for Quiñones 

He slowly moonwalked across the back of the video without saying a single word.

Raúl appeared holding a bag of chips, dancing with absolutely zero rhythm before walking off screen like nothing happened.

Lastly Brian, 

Brian ran into frame dramatically, pretending to chase you while Armando stayed completely still in front of the camera trying not to laugh.

He failed.

The video ended with him laughing and faking helping you. 

When you finally finished recording, everyone crowded around your phone.

"No manches..."

"Sí quedó bien chingón."

"Ya súbelo."

You posted it without another thought.

Within minutes…

The comments exploded.

“Hormiga haciendo cualquier cosa por su novia.”

“Brian trolleándolo otra vez JAJAJA.”

“Mora vestido de Memo fue lo mejor del video.”

“Necesitamos más TikToks así.”

Armando looked at the comments before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"¿Sabes qué?"

He smiled.

"La verdad... yo sí quería disfrazarme de alguien de Blue Lock.

You looked at him with fake disappointment.

He laughed.

“Pero…”

He kissed your forehead.

"...la verdad sí me divertí."

You grinned.

"Te lo dije."

He rolled his eyes.

"Sí, sí, ya sé."

Then pulled you closer.

“Pero el próximo Halloween…”

"¿Ahora tú escoges?"

He smiled.

“Ahora yo escojo."

You laughed.

"Eso ya lo veremos."

The rest of the players immediately started yelling.

“¡No la dejes escoger otra vez, Hormiga!”

He sighed dramatically.

"Ya ni modo... desde ahorita sé que voy a perder."

The room erupted in laughter as you snuggled against his side, already planning next year’s costumes while everyone continued teasing the poor Chivas player for being hopelessly in love.

⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･🍁🍂⋆.ೃ࿔:･

(I finally got the confidence to write in Spanish as I passed AP Spanish. Anyways thank you for the support. Love yall!⋆.ೃ࿔*:･)

[lovecvre16]

⟡Memo Ochoa x Reader ⟡

Reader is Carlos Acevedo's sister

Fluff

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Being the little sister of Carlos Acevedo, one of the main goalkeepers for Mexico’s national team, was probably the best thing about your life.

Even if you weren’t a player, you still had small opportunities to meet celebrities—especially soccer players. And eventually… your one and only celebrity crush:

Guillermo Ochoa.

The man you grew up watching in multiple World Cups. Honestly, he was probably the reason you got into soccer in the first place.

Your brother knew about your obsession and never let you forget it. He teased you constantly—but he was also a huge fan. If there was one thing you both agreed on, it was that Memo was the GOAT.

The best day of your life came when Carlos told you he had been selected for the World Cup—and more importantly, that he would be training alongside Memo.

You cried. Actual tears of happiness.

Your brother laughed at you but promised, “Don’t worry, you’ll meet him.”

From that moment on, you counted down the days.

Mexico was on a winning streak, and you were proud of your brother—but the moment Memo showed up on screen, your full attention was gone.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁

One night, you were lying in bed watching edits of him (Baila MI Corazón) when your phone rang.

Carlos.

You answered immediately.

On the phone: 

Pendeja I have good news

I am listening.

I got permission to invite someone to training.

…And?

I was thinking of inviting you. But since you’re being annoying, maybe I’ll invite someone else—

NO. PLEASE. I’m sorry. Invite me. I NEED to see him!

That’s what I thought. Be ready tomorrow by two.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖

You barely slept.

The next morning, you got ready faster than ever—light makeup, a quick blowout, your brother’s jersey tied in the back so that your figure can stand out more, and sneakers you may or may not have stolen from him.

By noon, your nerves were already kicking in.

What were you even going to say?

A simple “hi”? A hug? No, that was too much. Maybe just act normal—

Your phone rang again.

On the phone:

It’s 12. Are you ready?

Almost

I told you to wake up early

I did! I just—never mind

A black car is picking you up. Be ready.

Why does that sound suspicious?

Memo is waitingggg

He hung up.

You froze.

Memo. Is. Waiting.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞

The drive felt like forever. Your thoughts were racing the entire time.

When you finally arrived, your nerves hit all at once.

As you walked toward the field, you whispered to yourself,

 “I need to shit so bad bro why did I drink that coffee”

“There’s a bathroom on the left if you need it.”

You froze.

That voice—

You turned around.

“Hey, aren’t you Acevedo’s sister?”

It was Armando Gonzalez aka La Hormiga

You panicked. 

“Yeah! And sorry if I ever said anything weird—I joke a lot—”

He laughed. 

“Relax. I can tell you’re nervous.”

“…Is it that obvious?”

“Very.”

You both laughed, and the tension eased a little.

Soon, he offered to introduce you to the team, and the two of you started talking. He took a look at your bag where you had a sanji keychain

“You watch anime?” he asked.

“Yeah! Mostly shoujo and some one piece though.”

“Same, I need new recommendations.”

“Oh, I GOT you.”

By the time you reached the field, you spotted Carlos and ran to him.

You gave him hug. 

“What’s up big bro “

“Just training” 

“Where is he?” you asked immediately.

“Who?” he teased.

“You know who.”

“He’s inside.”

You nodded in relief—until Carlos smirked

“He’s actually right behind you.”

You turned.

And there he was.

Memo.

Holding a ball. Literally posing.

You stared for a second… then burst out laughing before quickly covering your mouth

“Why are you posing like that?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Does it matter? I heard from your big brother how big of a fan you are”

You glared at your brother.

“I’m going to fight you later.”

“Can’t I tell my teammate the tru-“

He quickly paused and looked at you 

“IS THAT MY FUCKING JERSEY?”

“Oh shit” 

Carlos sprinted towards you but you already started running to hide inside 

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖

Inside the lounge, things were calmer.

You sat down, scrolling your phone to distract yourself, when someone sat beside you.

Memo.

“Hey… sorry about earlier,”

he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was trying to seem cool.”

You smiled.

“Honestly, it worked. I was already overthinking how to greet you.”

There was a pause.

An awkward one.

Both of you sat there, unsure what to say next.

“…So,” he started.

“…Yeah,” you replied at the same time.

Silence again.

Then—

“Hey! What anime do you watch again?” Hormiga suddenly appeared, saving you.

You lit up immediately. “Okay, have you watched Ouran High School Host Club?”

“No, but I’ve heard of it.”

“You NEED to watch it. It’s so good. The characters, the drama—everything.”

“I’ll start it,” he promised.

Soon, Gilberto Mora joined, a little quieter but curious.

“So… what else do you like?” he asked

The three of you ended up talking nonstop—anime, random topics, jokes—until it felt like you’d known them forever.

Memo quietly excused himself at some point.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖

Later, he came back.

Hormiga and Mora got called away, leaving you alone with him again.

He sat beside you.

“So… you’re really into anime?” he asked.

“Yeah but it isn’t my entire personality” you smiled.

“Maybe you can recommend something for me too."

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you actually watch it.”

“I will,” he said, smiling slightly. 

“Promise.”

Before things could get too quiet again—

“HEY!” Hormiga and Mora burst back in.

“We’re making a TikTok. You’re joining.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

“No arguing.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁

Outside, you filmed the TikTok—laughing more than you expected.

At first, you were stiff, overthinking every move, but Hormiga and Mora kept hyping you up.

“Relax, it’s just a TikTok,” Hormiga said, nudging you.

“Yeah, don’t embarrass us,” Mora added.

“Shut up,” you laughed, finally loosening up.

By the third take, you were actually having fun—messing up, laughing, and redoing it until it felt natural.

“Okay, that one’s it,” Hormiga said, checking the video. “We ate.”

“I’m not even gonna lie….hormiga should've thrown it back" you admitted.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖

Back inside, while you were still outside filming, Carlos walked up to Memo.

He crossed his arms, glancing toward the field where you were.

“So… What do you think of my sister?”

Memo followed his gaze, watching you laugh with Hormiga and Mora.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then—

“I like her.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. 

“Like… like her?”

Memo shrugged, trying to play it off.

"She’s funny. Easy to talk to.”

Carlos smirked. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not,” Memo said, still looking in your direction.

Carlos shook his head, half amused, half protective.

“…I’m watching you.”

Memo laughed softly. 

“I figured.”

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞˖

A few minutes later, you walked back inside with Hormiga and Mora, still talking.

You drifted toward the other players, easily joining conversations, laughing like you’d been around them forever.

Across the room, Memo sat on the couch again—quietly watching you.

That same small smile on his face.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

(This one took pretty long but I was able to do it all in one day. Also sorry if I didn't get the big bro and lil sis relationship right, I only have an older sister. Shoutout to my supporters. Love yall! ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆)

[lovecvre16]

✿ Memo Ochoa x Reader ✿

Reader is the hormigas best friend like childhood friend type

Fluff

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hormiga had always been teased for being the only player on the team who wasn’t interested in dating. While everyone else was focused on relationships, he only cared about one thing—his soccer career.

As a professional player for Chivas and a member of Mexico’s national team, especially with World Cup appearances, he was constantly attending events. Most of these required players to bring a significant other.

Hormiga didn’t have one.

So instead, he brought his second-best option—his best friend.

He brought her everywhere. To the point where everyone already knew who she was. Rumors spread fast, of course—people assuming they were dating—but you ignored them. You knew the truth, and so did he.

Reader POV

You were sitting comfortably on your couch, catching up on an anime Hormiga had been begging you to watch.

It was kind of your thing. You both bonded over anime, even if your tastes were completely different. You preferred shōjo like Kamisama Kiss or Ouran High School Host Club, while Hormiga was all about sports anime like Blue Lock and Haikyuu!!.

And because you had lost a bet, you were now stuck watching Blue Lock.

You had just finished episode three when your phone started buzzing. You didn’t even need to check—you already knew who it was.

“Konnichiwa,” you answered.

“Don’t ever say that again. I hate you,” Hormiga replied immediately.

“You freaking love me, senpai.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I’ve got another event tonight. I need you for emotional support.”

“Are you serious? This is my fourth one this month. Please give me a break.”

“Nope. I need your presence. Plus, I don’t want to get bullied.”

“They know I’m your best friend, dumbass. They’re still gonna bully you.”

“Yeah, but not to my face if you’re there. Also… I’ve got some good news.”

You sat up a little. “What now? You finally gonna send me a makeup artist and hairstylist so I can actually look good?”

“That’s a luxury, not a surprise. Now listen—your man was asking about you.”

“…my man?”

A pause.

Then it clicked.

“MEMO?!”

You practically screamed into the phone.

On the other end, Hormiga burst out laughing. “Yes, the Guillermo Ochoa was asking about you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

Out of all people—him? Asking about you?

“Trust, I’m getting ready right now. I need to see him ASAP.”

“You don’t have a chance, but hurry up. I need you here in two hours.”

“TWO HOURS?! That’s basically nothing!”

“Figure it out.”

“Bye!”

“Yeah, yeah. Peace.”

You hung up and immediately jumped off the couch, rushing to your room.

You stared into your closet.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

For a second, you considered breaking down, but there wasn’t time. You grabbed the best thing you could find—a dress that would at least make you feel confident—and ran to shower.

Afterward, you rushed through drying and styling your hair, debating your makeup, and somehow pulling everything together.

Once you were finally done, you texted Hormiga.

Messages:

Hormiga🐜

Take your damn time.


Be lucky I’m even going.


Are you finally ready?


Yes, I’ve BEEN ready.


I definitely believe you. I ordered you an Uber to my hotel.

Are you still getting ready?


Yes. Shut up. The uber will be there in 20.


Fine. You’re not sugoi.

You grabbed your bag, slipped on your shoes, and headed out as another message came through.

Messages:

Hormiga🐜

Get out. The Uber is outside.


Damn, relax. I’m coming.
Hurry up.

You rolled your eyes, locked the door, and got into the car.

During the ride, you put on your earbuds, trying to calm your nerves. But just as you started relaxing, your phone buzzed again.

You groaned. Hormiga again…

But when you checked—

Instagram notification.

From…

Memo.

Your heart stopped.

You opened the message slowly.

Insta messages:

Yosoy8a

Hey, I know we aren’t that close, but I just wanted to ask if you’re coming to the event. Sorry if that’s weird—I heard about it from Hormiga.

You stared at the screen.

For five whole minutes.

Then panic hit—you closed the app immediately. He was probably online. He probably saw that you read it.

Your mind was racing the entire rest of the ride.

When you finally arrived, you practically sprinted to Hormiga’s hotel room.

You knocked once—

Then immediately burst in.

“BITCH GUESS WHO JUST TEXTED ME—”

Jumping on to the bed and lay next to him.

“STOP YELLING!” Hormiga shouted from the bathroom.

You froze.

If he was in the bathroom…

Then who—

Slowly, you turned your head toward the bed.

Curly hair.

Familiar face.

Your heart dropped.

Sitting right there… was Guillermo Ochoa.

And he had definitely just heard you screaming about him texting you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

(AP scores just came out and let’s just say I didn’t do my best but at least that didn’t stop me from making this. Love yall! ৻ꪆ)