[ochoaslut]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ welcome !

just a girl writing about men <3

⌞ 𝓜𝐢𝐧𝐢 ⌝ she/her ⋆ 07 baby ⋆ latina ⋆ writer ⋆ memo, diego & kevin lover ⋆ anime blog: @osamuslvt

⌞ NAVIGATION ⌝

↳ masterlist ⋆ rules ⋆ anons

⿻ inbox . . . open! ⁞ ✎ request . . . open!

© ochaslut 2026 ─ do not copy, republish, or translate any of my work.

i don't use ai to make my work, i only use ai to check grammar and punctuation!

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ FIRST FLOWERS

[ FEATURING ] ― gilberto mora

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , high school sweethearts , first love , fluff , flowers

gilberto had no idea buying flowers could be this stressful.

he'd been standing in front of the flower display for nearly twenty minutes, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie while staring at bouquets as if they were about to give him the answers.

"are these... too much?" he muttered to himself, picking up a bouquet of bright red roses.

he immediately put them back.

too serious.

too much pressure.

then he reached for white lilies.

"...wait."

weren't those for funerals?

he quickly returned them before anyone noticed.

a small laugh made him glance toward the florist arranging flowers nearby.

"first time buying flowers?" she asked with a knowing smile.

his ears turned pink.

"...is it that obvious?"

"a little."

he rubbed the back of his neck.

"i've never... bought flowers for anyone before."

"girlfriend?"

his shy smile answered before he could.

"she's gonna love whatever you choose."

"what if she doesn't?"

the florist chuckled.

"trust me. if she's the right girl, she won't remember the flowers."

he frowned slightly.

"she'll remember that you thought of her."

those words stuck with him.

instead of searching for the fanciest bouquet, he picked one that reminded him of you.

soft pink roses because they matched the blush that always spread across your cheeks whenever he complimented you.

little white daisies because they were cheerful, just like your laugh.

and tiny sprigs of baby's breath because they filled every empty space, the same way you somehow filled every quiet moment of his life.

he smiled.

"...these."

the florist wrapped them carefully with cream-colored paper and tied everything together with a pale ribbon.

gilberto held the bouquet like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

his palms were sweating the entire walk to your house.

what if you thought it was weird?

what if flowers were too old-fashioned?

what if, the front door opened before he even knocked.

you blinked in surprise.

"gili?"

he froze.

every word he'd practiced disappeared.

"...hi."

"hi?" you laughed softly. "what are you doing here?"

he looked down at the bouquet before holding it out with shaky hands.

"these are... for you."

you stared.

"...for me?"

he nodded once.

"i, um..."

his face burned.

"i saw them and... they reminded me of you."

you accepted the bouquet carefully, your fingertips brushing his.

your eyes immediately softened as you looked over every flower.

"they're beautiful."

his shoulders relaxed just a little.

"really?"

"really."

you lifted them closer, smiling as you admired the pink roses tucked between the daisies.

"i've never had anyone buy me flowers before."

his heart skipped.

"...you haven't?"

you shook your head.

"never."

for a second, neither of you spoke.

then you looked back up at him with the brightest smile he'd ever seen.

"thank you."

before he could answer, you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around him.

he stiffened in surprise for exactly one second before hugging you back.

carefully.

making sure not to crush the flowers between you.

you pulled away just enough to grin.

"you know..."

"hmm?"

"i think i like the person who gave them to me even more."

his cheeks somehow turned an even deeper shade of red.

"...don't say things like that."

"why not?"

"because..."

he hid his face in the sleeve of his hoodie.

"...you make me nervous."

you giggled.

"good."

he peeked at you over the fabric.

"good?"

"because it's cute."

he groaned quietly while you laughed.

you reached over, gently taking his hand into yours.

"come inside?"

he intertwined his fingers with yours almost instantly.

"...okay."

as you walked inside together, the bouquet rested safely in your other hand.

years later, long after those flowers had dried and faded, you'd still remember them.

not because they were the prettiest bouquet you'd ever received, but because they came from a boy who had spent twenty minutes trying to find flowers worthy of the girl he loved.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE

[ FEATURING ] ― guillermo ochoa

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , established relationship , playful teasing , height difference , kisses

it started with the coffee mugs.

you were certain you had left your favorite mug on the second shelf the night before.

yet somehow... it was now sitting on the very top shelf.

you frowned.

"...memo."

from the living room came the sound of muffled laughter.

you narrowed your eyes.

"memo."

he appeared in the kitchen doorway a second later, trying and failing to hide the grin spreading across his face.

"yes, mi amor?"

you pointed toward the cabinet.

"why is my mug all the way up there?"

he looked at it as if he had never seen it before.

"huh."

"don't."

"that's strange."

"guillermo."

"maybe it walked up there."

you crossed your arms.

"the mug?"

"you never know."

you stared at him for a long moment before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"can you please get it down?"

he leaned against the counter.

"hmm..."

you already knew that look.

"what?"

"say please."

"i did."

"say it sweeter."

you rolled your eyes.

"please."

he smiled.

"with a kiss."

you gasped dramatically.

"you're negotiating over a coffee mug?"

"i prefer the term compromising."

you walked over until you were standing right in front of him.

he immediately leaned down, expecting you to kiss him.

instead, you smiled sweetly.

"no."

he blinked.

"...no?"

"no kiss until i get my mug."

"that's not how this works."

"i think it is."

he laughed.

"you're stubborn."

"learned from the best."

he reached out to wrap an arm around your waist, but you slipped right out of his grasp.

"uh-uh."

"really?"

"really."

he followed you around the kitchen, amused by your determination.

"just one kiss."

"mug first."

"half a kiss?"

"that's not a thing."

"it could be."

you shook your head, trying not to laugh.

"you're unbelievable."

"and yet you love me."

"that doesn't mean you're getting a kiss."

he placed a hand over his heart.

"you're breaking it."

"you'll recover."

he sighed dramatically before finally walking over to the cabinet.

without even stretching, he reached up and grabbed the mug with ease.

show-off.

he placed it carefully into your hands.

"there."

you smiled triumphantly.

"thank you."

then you turned around and started making your coffee.

memo blinked.

"...excuse me?"

you looked over your shoulder innocently.

"yes?"

"where's my kiss?"

you took a sip from your freshly made coffee.

"hmm."

"you promised."

"did i?"

he laughed, immediately walking over until he was standing behind you.

"you're impossible."

"maybe."

his arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin on top of your head.

"i got your mug."

"you did."

"so..."

you smiled to yourself, pretending to think about it.

"i suppose you've earned it."

before he could react, you turned in his arms, reached up onto your tiptoes, and gently kissed him.

it was quick.

soft.

just enough to leave him smiling when you pulled away.

"that's it?" he asked.

"that's what you earned."

he raised an eyebrow.

"i think i deserve another."

"do you?"

"definitely."

you laughed.

"only if you promise to stop hiding my things."

he stayed quiet for a suspiciously long time.

"...define stop."

you narrowed your eyes.

"memo."

he couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

"okay, okay."

"i'm serious."

"i know."

he leaned down, stealing one more kiss before you could protest.

"i'll stop."

you smiled.

"good."

"the mugs, anyway."

your smile slowly disappeared.

"...the mugs?"

he flashed you an innocent grin.

"i never said anything about the snacks."

you groaned as he darted out of the kitchen laughing, already knowing you'd probably find your favorite bag of chips sitting on the highest shelf later that day.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

Can you please write more on memo Ochoa? I cant find anything new especially smut 😔💔

LMAOOO 😭💔 i promise i'm trying!!

i know there's barely any memo fics out there, which is exactly why i started writing for him 😭 as for smut... i don't write nsfw, so i can't help there 😔 but i definitely have more memo fics coming soon!! thank you for reading my stuff and wanting more, it seriously means a lot. 🫶

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ SUNSCREEN DUTY

[ FEATURING ] ― guillermo ochoa

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , beach day , playful teasing , kisses

the beach was packed with families, the sound of crashing waves blending with distant laughter and music from someone's speaker a few umbrellas away.

you had claimed the perfect spot earlier that morning, spreading out your towels while memo insisted on carrying almost everything himself.

"i've got it."

"memo, that's three bags."

"exactly."

"you're going to throw your back out."

he only grinned.

"worth it."

after spending nearly an hour swimming and walking along the shoreline, the two of you returned to your towels.

you reached into the beach bag and pulled out the bottle of sunscreen before handing it to him.

"can you do my back?"

he accepted the bottle without hesitation.

"of course."

turning around, you gathered your hair over one shoulder and waited.

a second later, cool sunscreen landed against your skin.

you shivered.

"that's cold."

"sorry."

his hands began spreading it across your shoulders with slow, careful movements.

you smiled to yourself.

"don't miss a spot."

"i won't."

his palms moved down your back at an almost painfully relaxed pace.

he wasn't rushing.

not even a little.

after another minute, you glanced over your shoulder.

"memo."

"hmm?"

"you're taking forever."

"am i?"

"yes."

he continued rubbing the sunscreen into your skin as though he hadn't heard you.

"gotta make sure it's blended."

"it blended five minutes ago."

"i don't know..."

his thumbs traced gentle circles near your shoulders.

"i think this side needs a little more."

you laughed.

"you're absolutely doing this on purpose."

he smiled, though you couldn't fully see it.

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"liar."

"i'm being thorough."

"you're stalling."

"maybe a little."

you shook your head, trying to hide your smile.

"everyone's going to think i'm getting a massage."

he chuckled.

"would that be so bad?"

"no..."

you admitted.

"...but i know you."

"and?"

"you're enjoying this way too much."

"can you blame me?"

his hands slowed even more, gently working the last bit of sunscreen across your shoulders.

"i get to spend the day at the beach with the prettiest girl here."

you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you're cheesy."

"you love it."

"...maybe."

he smiled to himself.

"thought so."

finally, after what felt like forever, he clicked the cap back onto the bottle.

"all done."

you turned around to face him.

"that took at least ten minutes."

"quality work can't be rushed."

you laughed.

"you're unbelievable."

"thank you."

"that wasn't a compliment."

"i'm choosing to believe it was."

you reached for the sunscreen.

"your turn."

he handed it over before sitting down on the towel with his back toward you.

"be gentle."

a mischievous smile spread across your face.

"of course."

you squeezed far more sunscreen into your hand than necessary.

he immediately looked over his shoulder.

"...that sounded like a lot."

"did it?"

you rubbed the cold lotion onto his back.

he flinched.

"that's freezing!"

"oh?"

you smiled innocently.

"i'm just being thorough."

he laughed, recognizing his own words.

"you're getting revenge."

"maybe a little."

"i created a monster."

"you did."

by the time you finished, he turned around with a grin that matched yours.

"feel better?"

"much."

he leaned closer until your noses almost touched.

"does being thorough earn me a reward?"

you pretended to think about it.

"hmm..."

he waited patiently.

then you leaned in just enough to steal a quick kiss before pulling away again.

"there."

he smiled against your lips.

"i think i missed a spot."

you laughed, gently pushing him back onto the towel.

"nice try."

"had to ask."

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

🥹 carlos acevedo when

NOW

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ HOME AFTER TRAINING

[ FEATURING ] ― carlos acevedo

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , comfort , domestic , cuddling

the familiar sound of keys jingling on the other side of the front door makes you glance up from the couch.

it's almost nine.

training had run later than usual.

you barely have enough time to stand before the door swings open.

carlos steps inside with a tired sigh, gym bag slipping from his shoulder and landing softly on the floor.

his hair is still slightly damp from his shower at the training grounds, and he looks absolutely exhausted.

the dark circles beneath his eyes are more noticeable today, his shoulders slumped in a way that tells you practice had been anything but easy.

he notices you almost immediately.

his entire expression changes.

the exhaustion doesn't disappear, but something softer replaces it.

"hi, hermosa."

his voice is rough from hours of shouting across the field.

you smile.

"welcome home."

before you can ask how training went, he's already crossing the room.

he doesn't say another word.

he simply wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you against his chest.

it's one of those hugs where there's no teasing.

no jokes.

no playful grin.

just all of his weight leaning into you as though you've become the only thing keeping him upright.

you automatically slide your arms around his neck.

"long day?"

he hums quietly against your shoulder.

"mhm."

you feel him melt further into the embrace.

his face presses into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo like he's trying to erase the entire day from his mind.

neither of you speaks.

there's no need to.

you slowly run your fingers through the curls at the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp.

he lets out the smallest sigh.

one that sounds almost relieved.

"that good?" you whisper.

"don't stop."

you smile to yourself.

"i wasn't planning to."

another minute passes.

then another.

the food you'd been making continues simmering quietly in the kitchen, forgotten for the moment.

your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

neither of you moves.

carlos tightens his hold just a little.

"five more minutes."

you laugh softly.

"you've been saying five more minutes for the last five minutes."

"then..."

he mumbles sleepily.

"another five."

you gently pull back just enough to look at him.

his eyes are half-closed.

he looks like he could fall asleep standing up.

"did coach work you that hard today?"

he groans dramatically.

"conditioning."

"again?"

"again."

he shakes his head before resting his forehead against yours.

"i don't think my legs belong to me anymore."

you reach up, cupping his face between your hands.

"well, you survived."

"barely."

"i'm proud of you."

his lips curve into a small smile.

those four words always seem to affect him more than he admits.

"thanks."

he kisses your forehead so gently it almost feels like a brush of air.

then your nose.

then your cheek.

finally, your lips.

slow.

unhurried.

like he has nowhere else he'd rather be.

when he pulls away, he doesn't go far.

he simply rests his forehead against yours again.

"i missed you today."

"you saw me this morning."

"too long."

you laugh.

"it was eight hours."

"exactly."

he says it as though that's an unreasonable amount of time.

you shake your head fondly.

"you're clingy."

"only with you."

you pretend to think about it.

"i guess i can live with that."

his smile grows a little wider.

the kind that only you get to see.

comfortable.

unguarded.

completely his.

finally, you nudge him toward the couch.

"come sit."

he obeys without complaint, dropping down beside you before immediately pulling you into his side again.

"carlos..."

"what?"

"i have dinner on the stove."

"...it'll still be there."

you raise an eyebrow.

"i need you first."

your heart softens instantly.

he wasn't asking for anything grand.

not a conversation.

not advice.

not even food.

just you.

just a few quiet minutes where the world expected nothing from him.

you lean your head against his shoulder, threading your fingers through his.

"okay."

he closes his eyes, squeezing your hand once.

"thank you."

you smile, pressing a gentle kiss against his jaw.

"welcome home, cariño."

for the first time all day, he feels like he can finally breathe.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ JUST ONE MORE GAME

[ FEATURING ] ― joao felix

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , playful teasing , gaming , cuddles

the words "one more game" had officially lost all meaning.

you'd heard them at least seven times in the last hour.

from your spot on the couch, wrapped in one of joão's hoodies, you glanced toward the television where he sat completely focused on his controller.

"i'm almost done," he promised.

you looked at the clock.

"you said that forty minutes ago."

"this one counts."

"they've all counted."

he laughed without taking his eyes off the screen.

"i mean it this time."

"mhm."

you leaned farther into the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone.

every few seconds, though, your eyes wandered back to him.

his brows furrowed in concentration.

his tongue peeked out ever so slightly whenever he got competitive.

and every time something went wrong, he'd mumble to himself in portuguese under his breath.

it was...

adorable.

a few minutes later, you quietly stood up.

joão didn't notice.

you walked over behind the couch.

still nothing.

"wow," you said dramatically.

"i could disappear and you wouldn't even realize."

"i would."

his attention never left the screen.

"uh-huh."

"promise."

before he could react, you reached down and gently took the controller out of his hands.

"hey!"

he looked up at you with wide eyes.

"my game!"

"your girlfriend."

he blinked.

"...that's a good point."

you crossed your arms.

"i've been waiting."

he smiled sheepishly.

"i know."

"do you?"

"i got distracted."

"clearly."

he reached for your hand.

"come here."

you tried to stay stubborn.

"why?"

"because i miss you."

"you've been sitting three feet away from me."

"exactly."

he tugged gently until you finally gave in.

the moment you sat beside him, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest like he'd been waiting to do it all evening.

you laughed.

"so this was your plan?"

"maybe."

"lying about one more game?"

"that part wasn't the plan."

you looked up at him.

"then what was?"

he smiled before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"this."

another kiss landed on your temple.

then your cheek.

then the corner of your mouth.

you giggled, trying to push him away.

"joão."

"yes?"

"you're distracting me."

he grinned.

"good."

"you're impossible."

"but you're smiling."

"...i am."

he rested his forehead against yours.

"worth it."

the forgotten match on the television timed out in the background, but neither of you noticed.

or cared.

because somehow, cuddling you had become much more important than winning any game.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ THE NECKLACE

[ FEATURING ] ― guiliermo ochoa

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader, fluff, established relationship, gift giving, romantic tension, soft memo, affectionate touches, lovestruck reader

it starts with a small velvet box.

the moment memo places it in front of you across the dinner table, you're already shaking your head.

"memo."

"what?"

"what did you buy?"

he grins.

which is never a good sign.

"open it."

carefully, you lift the lid.

inside sits a delicate gold necklace, simple and elegant enough to wear every day.

your breath catches immediately.

"memo..."

"you like it?"

"i love it."

the smile that spreads across his face makes it obvious he'd been worried about your answer.

you look up from the necklace and find him watching you expectantly.

"put it on."

you blink.

"right now?"

"right now."

you laugh softly before handing it over.

"okay."

memo stands from his chair and walks around the table.

your heart immediately starts acting ridiculous.

it always does when he's close.

you gather your hair over one shoulder while he carefully removes the necklace from its box.

"hold still, cariño."

his voice is lower now.

gentler.

you feel the chain brush against your collarbone.

then his fingers.

warm. careful.

lingering just long enough to make your stomach flip.

he's talking about something.

probably explaining why he chose this necklace.

probably telling some story.

but honestly?

you've stopped listening.

because his hands are at the back of your neck.

because his fingertips keep grazing your skin every few seconds.

because he's standing so close you can smell his cologne.

because your brain has completely abandoned its responsibilities.

"and that's why I thought-"

he pauses.

"are you listening to me?"

you blink. once. twice.

"...no."

memo immediately bursts out laughing.

a deep, warm laugh that only makes things worse.

"i knew it."

"you distracted me."

"i distracted you?"

"yes."

he shakes his head.

"all i did was put on a necklace."

"exactly."

his smile softens.

the kind that still makes your heart skip after all this time.

once the clasp is secured, he gently turns you toward him.

the necklace rests perfectly against your skin.

but before you can thank him, memo reaches up and lightly traces the pendant with his thumb.

his eyes meet yours.

suddenly neither of you are laughing anymore.

"beautiful," he murmurs.

you glance down at the necklace.

"the necklace?"

his smile returns instantly.

slow. fond.

completely unfair.

"if that's what you want to believe."

your cheeks warm immediately.

"memo."

he laughs again and presses a quick kiss to your forehead before returning to his seat.

and for the rest of dinner, every time your fingers brush the necklace, you find yourself smiling.

not because of the gift.

but because every time you wear it, you'll remember the way he looked at you when he put it on.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

girl do u know where we can find more ochoa fanfics.... I've finished everything you've posted I need more 😭😭

LMAOOO 😭😭 i wish i knew 💔 that’s honestly the whole reason i started writing for him. i could barely find any ochoa fics, so i was like… fine, i’ll write them myself 😭

i’ve seen a few on wattpad, but there really aren’t many. if you ever find more, let me know because i’m starving for ochoa content too 😭

[ochoaslut]

pls keep writing i cant find any memo fics and ur writing is sooo goodddd omg

awww thank you so much 😭🤍 that seriously means a lot to me!! i was honestly nervous about starting to write for futbol players, especially memo, so hearing this makes me really happy. don’t worry, i definitely plan on writing more memo fics (and more for the other players too)!! thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing 🥹

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ STUDY DATE

[ FEATURING ] ― gilberto mora 

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluf , established relationship , college au , study date , teasing , kisses

"you know," gilberto says, spinning his pencil between his fingers, "i think we've been staring at the same page for ten minutes."

you glance down at your notebook.

he's right.

the same math problem has been sitting unfinished while your highlighter rests untouched beside it.

"...i was thinking."

"about the homework?"

"...no."

he grins, already knowing the answer before you even say it.

"i was thinking about how cute you look when you're trying to concentrate."

you roll your eyes dramatically, reaching over to lightly push his shoulder.

"you're the reason i can't concentrate."

"me?" he places a hand over his chest like you've deeply offended him. "i've been the perfect study partner."

"gil."

"yes?"

"you've asked me if dinosaurs could play football."

"important question."

"you spent fifteen minutes trying to convince me penguins would make good goalkeepers."

"they're fearless."

"you drew a mustache on every person in your history textbook."

"...that one was funny."

you try not to smile.

you really do.

but the second he flashes that innocent look, the corners of your mouth betray you.

"see?" he says proudly. "i'm improving your mood."

"you're ruining my grades."

"small difference."

you sigh dramatically before closing your textbook.

"we've been here for almost two hours."

"mhm."

"and we've finished..."

gilberto reaches over to count the completed pages.

"...one."

"...one page."

"look at us being productive."

you laugh so hard you have to hide your face behind your hands.

"stop making me laugh!"

"i'm not doing anything."

he's lying.

his stupid smile is enough to make you laugh.

you finally reach for your notebook again.

"okay."

he nods seriously.

"okay."

"from now on—"

"no talking."

"exactly."

"only homework."

"yes."

"no distracting each other."

"right."

he holds out his pinky.

"deal?"

you hook yours around his.

"deal."

for almost forty seconds...

everything is quiet.

you answer two questions.

he actually writes notes.

it's going surprisingly well.

until, "babe."

you don't even look up.

"what?"

"...how many raccoons do you think it would take to beat one horse?"

your pencil stops moving.

slowly...

very slowly...

you lift your head to look at him.

he's trying so hard not to laugh.

"gilberto."

"it's hypothetical."

"i hate you."

"that's not an answer."

you burst into laughter, tossing one of your sticky notes at his forehead.

he catches it with an exaggerated gasp.

"assault."

"deserved."

he laughs along with you, the quiet library suddenly feeling much warmer.

once the laughter settles, he scoots his chair closer until your knees bump together beneath the table.

"okay," he says softly.

"this time i mean it."

"really?"

"really."

"...no raccoons?"

"...no raccoons."

"...no dinosaurs?"

"...not even one."

"...penguins?"

"...maybe one penguin."

you shake your head.

"hopeless."

"completely."

he reaches over, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before stealing a quick kiss from your cheek.

"but i'm your hopeless."

your face immediately warms.

"that's cheating."

"what is?"

"being cute."

"works every time."

you groan, hiding your face in your notebook.

he chuckles quietly before opening his own book again.

"come on."

"let's actually finish."

"...and then?"

"then," he says, intertwining his fingers with yours beneath the table, "i'll buy you your favorite coffee."

"and?"

"and we'll pretend this was a successful study date."

you squeeze his hand.

"...i think it already was."

he smiles without looking away from his notebook.

"yeah."

"i think so too."

by the time the library announces it's closing, neither of you has finished all of your homework.

not even close.

your notebooks are filled with doodles instead of notes, the margins covered with little hearts, terrible stick figures, and inside jokes only the two of you understand.

you should probably feel guilty.

instead, as gilberto slips your backpack onto his shoulder before taking your hand in his, you can't help but think you'll happily fail at studying with him all over again.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ BEACH SUNSET

[ FEATURING ] ― kevin alvarez

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , beach date , sunset , hand holding , soft romance , kisses

the beach was almost empty by the time you arrived.

most people had already packed up their umbrellas and towels, heading home as the sun slowly drifted toward the horizon.

it left the shoreline quiet.

just the sound of gentle waves rolling onto the sand and the occasional cry of seagulls overhead.

exactly the way kevin liked it.

he slipped off his shoes first, tossing them over one shoulder before looking at you expectantly.

"well?"

you laughed.

"give me a second."

you kicked off your sandals and tucked them into your beach bag before stepping onto the cool sand beside him.

"better?"

he smiled.

"much."

without another word, he reached for your hand.

your fingers had barely settled between his when he gave them a small squeeze.

"comfortable?"

you raised an eyebrow.

"holding your hand?"

"yeah."

"always."

his grin widened.

"good."

the two of you wandered aimlessly along the shoreline, letting the waves wash over your feet every few steps.

the water was cool enough to make you laugh whenever it reached your ankles.

kevin kept glancing down every few minutes, searching the sand.

"what are you looking for?"

"shells."

"for what?"

he shrugged.

"no reason."

"kevin."

"okay... maybe i want to see who finds the prettiest one."

"a competition?"

"obviously."

you laughed.

"you're so competitive."

"i play football for a living."

"fair point."

the challenge lasted all of three minutes.

"look!"

you bent down and picked up a tiny spiral shell streaked with soft shades of pink and cream.

"isn't it pretty?"

kevin studied it dramatically.

"it's... decent."

you gasped.

"decent?"

"i've definitely seen better."

"you're lying."

"...maybe."

you nudged him with your shoulder.

"cheater."

he laughed before reaching down to pick up a smooth white shell.

"see?"

you looked at it.

"...that's literally broken."

he frowned at the shell.

"...don't ruin this for me."

you burst into laughter.

"you're impossible."

"and yet you keep walking next to me."

"someone has to stop you from collecting broken shells."

he slipped the shell into his pocket anyway.

"it's got personality."

"that's one way to describe it."

the sky slowly shifted from gold to soft shades of pink and orange.

everything around you seemed to glow.

without realizing it, you'd let go of his hand while crouching to inspect another shell.

less than thirty seconds passed.

then...

warm fingers brushed yours.

you looked up.

kevin was holding out his hand again.

"...really?"

he tilted his head innocently.

"what?"

"i've been free for approximately twenty-eight seconds."

"felt longer."

you laughed as you laced your fingers through his again.

"you're clingy."

"a little."

"a little?"

"a lot."

he didn't even try to deny it.

instead, he lifted your joined hands and pressed a quick kiss against your knuckles before continuing to walk.

your heart melted immediately.

"show-off."

"only for you."

the beach grew quieter as the sun finally reached the horizon.

you stopped walking, watching the last rays of light dance across the ocean.

"it's beautiful," you whispered.

kevin hummed softly beside you.

"yeah."

you smiled without looking away from the water.

"i'm glad we came."

"...me too."

a comfortable silence settled between you.

the waves rolled in.

the breeze carried the scent of salt and the ocean.

your hand remained safely tucked inside his.

after a minute, you noticed he wasn't looking at the sunset anymore.

he was looking at you.

"...what?"

he smiled to himself.

"nothing."

"kevin."

"i was just thinking."

"about?"

he gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"everyone says sunsets are the prettiest part of the beach."

you waited.

he leaned down until your foreheads almost touched.

"i disagree."

your cheeks warmed instantly.

"that was cheesy."

"did it work?"

"...maybe."

he laughed quietly before closing the tiny distance between you, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips while the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.

when he finally pulled away, your foreheads stayed together.

"ready to head home?" he asked.

you looked down at your intertwined hands before smiling.

"in a minute."

"why?"

you held up the handful of shells you'd collected throughout the evening.

"i still need to find one more."

he raised an eyebrow.

"the perfect one?"

you shook your head.

"one for you."

for the first time all evening, kevin was completely speechless.

then he smiled that soft, unmistakably lovestruck smile that always seemed to belong only to you.

he squeezed your hand once more, and somehow, even while searching the sand, he still never let it go. 

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

hi everyone!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

thank you all so much for the likes, comments, and reblogs on my first few posts. i genuinely wasn't expecting so much support, and it really means a lot to me.

i was so excited to start writing for futbol players because i could barely find any work for them, so seeing so many people enjoy my work has made me even more excited to keep writing.

i was also really happy to wake up and see that i already had a few requests waiting for me. unfortunately, most of them ended up being smut/nsfw requests.

just a little reminder that i don't write smut or any nsfw content. i only write fluff, angst, and light suggestive, so please keep that in mind when sending requests!

again, thank you all so much for the support already. i have a lot of ideas i'm excited to write, and i hope you'll continue to enjoy everything that's coming.

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ DANCE WITH ME

[ FEATURING ] ― guillermo ochoa

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , wedding reception , slow dancing , romantic , soft memo , kisses

weddings always reminded memo of football in the strangest way.

the excitement before everything began.

the families gathered together.

the cheering.

the happy tears.

only this time, instead of walking into a stadium, he was sitting beside you beneath strings of warm lights while the newly married couple shared their first dance.

you rested your head lightly against his shoulder, absentmindedly tracing circles over the back of his hand.

"they look so happy," you whispered.

memo smiled.

"they do."

the song came to an end, and the emcee invited everyone onto the dance floor.

almost instantly, guests began standing from their tables.

you watched them with an amused smile.

"we should probably-"

before you could finish your sentence, memo was already standing.

he held out his hand toward you.

"dance with me."

you looked at him, pretending to think about it.

"hmm..."

he raised an eyebrow.

"don't make me beg."

"you've survived world cups."

"this is scarier."

you laughed and slipped your hand into his.

"you're ridiculous."

"but you're still coming."

he led you toward the growing crowd just as another slow song began to play.

his hand settled naturally against your waist while yours rested on his shoulder.

the music was soft.

the room buzzed with quiet conversations and laughter.

around you, dozens of couples swayed together beneath the lights.

for the first minute, the two of you talked.

about dinner.

about the bride.

about which teammate had cried the hardest during the ceremony.

but somewhere between one song and the next, the conversation faded.

you weren't sure when.

it just... happened.

memo rested his forehead lightly against yours.

his thumb moved slowly across the fabric of your dress where his hand held your waist.

"comfortable?" he asked quietly.

"very."

"good."

another song started.

neither of you left the dance floor.

someone bumped into memo's shoulder while dancing past.

he apologized automatically without taking his eyes off you.

"they're going to think we're glued together," you teased.

"let them."

you smiled.

"you're not tired?"

"of dancing with you?"

he shook his head.

"never."

you couldn't help laughing.

"that was smooth."

"i've had years to practice."

"and yet you still blush every time you flirt."

"...i do not."

you simply looked at him.

he sighed.

"...maybe a little."

you reached up and smoothed a strand of hair away from his forehead.

"it's cute."

his ears immediately turned pink.

"don't use my weaknesses against me."

"what weaknesses?"

"you."

the answer came so quickly that it stole your breath.

before you could respond, he gently spun you beneath his arm.

you laughed as your dress flared slightly before he pulled you back against him.

the band kept playing.

another song.

then another.

tables slowly emptied as older relatives wandered outside for fresh air, children fell asleep in their parents' laps, and conversations drifted toward goodbyes.

still, the two of you stayed exactly where you were.

at some point, the lights around the dance floor dimmed.

memo glanced around the room for the first time all evening.

"...where did everyone go?"

you blinked before finally looking away from him.

the dance floor that had been crowded an hour ago now held only a handful of couples.

many of the guests had already left.

you laughed softly.

"i... don't know."

he looked back at you with a sheepish grin.

"i think we forgot there were other people here."

"i think so too."

the final song of the night began.

slower than all the others.

memo didn't say anything.

he simply tightened his hold on your waist and swayed with you beneath the twinkling lights.

when the music ended, neither of you moved.

you stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a few quiet seconds, smiling as applause echoed through the reception hall.

finally, you looked up at him.

"ready to go home?"

he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"in a minute."

"why?"

"because i wanted one last dance with my favorite person."

you smiled so brightly your cheeks began to ache.

"memo..."

he chuckled, brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

"this one doesn't even need music."

and standing there in the middle of an almost empty dance floor, gently swaying in each other's arms while the last of the guests filtered out, you realized he was right.

by the end of the night, neither of you remembered the flowers, the speeches, or even what had been served for dinner.

you only remembered dancing with each other.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

୨ৎ ─ ANNIVERSARY LETTERS

[ FEATURING ] ― guillermo ochoa

[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , anniversary celebration , handwritten letters , emotional memo , romance , happy ending

every anniversary, no matter where life took you both, there was one tradition neither of you ever skipped.

the letters.

it had started years ago when the two of you were still figuring out adulthood together. money had been tight, schedules had been chaotic, and finding the perfect gift hadn't always been possible.

so instead, you'd written each other letters.

just one page.

a simple explanation of what that year had meant.

and somehow, it became your favorite tradition.

every year on your anniversary, the two of you sat down together and exchanged envelopes.

some years the letters were funny.

some years they were emotional.

some years they were filled with memories neither of you wanted to forget.

this year was no different.

the restaurant was quiet, lit by warm golden lights, and after dinner memo reached into his jacket pocket.

immediately, you smiled.

"you remembered."

he looked offended.

"i've never forgotten."

"i know."

he handed over the envelope carefully, almost nervously.

which always surprised you.

after all these years together, after all the stadiums he'd played in and all the pressure he'd faced throughout his career, handwritten letters still made him nervous.

you opened it slowly.

his familiar handwriting covered every inch of the page.

the first few lines already made your chest ache.

he wrote about the small things.

how you still stole his hoodies.

how you still fell asleep during movies.

how you still reached for his hand without thinking whenever you crossed the street.

he wrote about difficult moments from the year too.

times when football had been stressful.

times when distance had been hard.

times when he wasn't sure of himself.

and how you'd been there through every single one.

then your eyes landed on the final paragraph.

thank you for choosing me again this year.

after everything we've lived through together, you're still my favorite person to come home to.

if i had the chance to live my entire life over again, i'd still choose you every single time.

your vision immediately blurred.

"memo..."

he laughed softly.

"you're crying already?"

"shut up."

he grinned.

"i'm just asking."

"and you're crying too."

that wiped the smile off his face instantly.

because he was.

his eyes were suspiciously red.

you reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

for a moment neither of you spoke.

you simply sat there looking at each other.

years together.

thousands of memories.

hundreds of matches.

countless ordinary days.

all somehow fitting into a few handwritten pages.

finally memo cleared his throat.

"well?"

you held up your own envelope.

"read yours first."

his smile immediately returned.

"deal."

hours later, the two letters would join the others waiting at home.

a growing collection stored safely in a wooden box.

anniversaries, birthdays , hard years, beautiful years.

pieces of your lives written in ink.

and someday, when you were both old and gray, memo always said you'd sit together and read every single one again.

honestly, you couldn't wait.

© OCHOASLUT | masterlist ● rules

[ochoaslut]

RULES OF THE DRESSING ROOM

opening ceremony — welcome! within these stands are stories of victory, heartbreak, soft moments, and dreams that exist beyond the final whistle. before entering the archive, please take a moment to read the following guidelines

status

CURRENT STATUS: OPEN 🔓

requests — open asks & yaps — open dms — closed

the manager's rules

₊˚｡ ownership — all works found within this archive belong to me. please do not repost, translate, copy, modify, or upload my writing elsewhere. do not use my works for ai training or content generation.

₊˚｡ respect — this is a positive space. hate, harassment, discrimination, or unnecessary drama toward myself or others will result in an immediate block.

₊˚｡ support — likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!!

₊˚｡ patience — writing is a hobby, not an obligation. please do not rush me for updates, requests, or part twos.

submitting a request

when requests are open, please try to include:

player(s) ( i can probly do any player just ask )

genre (fluff, angst, light suggestive)

plot or scenario

format (drabble, oneshot, headcanons)

reader type (fem!reader, gn!reader)

the more information you provide, the easier it is for me to bring your idea to life

please note that i reserve the right to decline any request that does not inspire me or crosses my personal boundaries

the offside list:

i will not write:

nsfw / smut , character x character , female character , male / tran reader , trauma related topics (suicide , depression , death , self harm , abuse , etc) , fashion styles / makeup (ex. goth , grunge , gyaru , lolita , furries , hybrid , cosplays, etc)

i do write:

fluff , angst , light suggestive , drabble , headcanon , fem / gn reader , platonic

the supporters stand:

feel free to send asks, football thoughts, random yaps, memes, or simply stop by to say hello

my inbox is open even when requests are closed

while i may not always know the right thing to say, i will always do my best to listen

please remember that real life, college, and personal responsibilities will always take priority over writing

the final whistle:

every story begins as a simple idea before becoming something worth sharing. thank you for supporting my writing and spending time within this little corner of the internet

don't forget to leave a stamp behind — a like, reblog, comment, or kind message. every bit of support means more than you know

enjoy your stay, and may your favorite team always find the back of the net

© ochaslut 2026 ─ do not copy, republish, or translate any of my work.