AN: This one hundred and one short stories challenge, came from a couple of items and scenarios that have been wildly clouding my imagination for an original Hetalia character of mine for the personification of Mexico, named Maria.
The series of short stories is written in anachronistic order,and revolve around the current and historical relations of Mexico, but also contains numerous canon and original characters of mine, with a touch of character development for each character along the line.
I may also keep this writing piece ongoing for several months or even years until I finish this challenge; if I don't get crippled by the evils of writer's block.
So, please enjoy the ride and don't feel pressured to submit a review. A subscribed watch to my story is just as good as a review, if not better.
Comments, suggestions, requests, and constructive criticisms are also received with welcoming arms.
Tambien hablo el espanol, si me quieres dar un comentario .ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ
((Additional Note: Readers can always check the latest updates of my stories on my profile. Or if you want to read the newest chapter update, skip ahead! References and translations of each story are available at the bottom.))
Hetalia © of Hidekazu Himaruya
An American Intro- Grilled Cheese Confessions:
[Year 2008, start of the Merida Initiative.][i]
"And why is it that you won't let me cook Alfredo?" Mexico heaved an exasperated sigh as she shifted her gaze to the arrogant blond dressed in a frilly apron, attempting to make lunch for the both of them in his American stylized kitchen.
"Because the last time you did, I had to drink two gallons of water to take the taste of jalapenos from my mouth dude, that's why." A smile broke out on his face as Alfred flipped the grilled cheese sandwiches on the pan. It was not cheeseburgers and fries which were the American's favorite, but grilled cheese sandwiches was a fool proof course also fast and easy to assemble, all the classic ingredients that were up Mr. Jones's alley."Besides, I don't know how you and your brothers and sisters can even stand that food to begin with, it's all spicy and hot, it burns a hole through my stomach," he continued.
"That spiciness is called flavor Alfredo, and you should try it more often, it's better than the bland food I've had in both your and England's restaurants," Mexico snidely remarked from her seat.
"What? No way man, my food is way better than Iggy's gross pastries thingies," he exclaimed.
"Scones," Mexico impassively corrected.
"Right, scones, gnomes, frones, whatever it all tastes like petrified couch stuffing," America scoffed offhandedly, flipping the sandwiches on its opposite side in the frying pan.
Mexico fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. It had been a while since she and America spent some time together that didn't pertain to work or any world conferences. Plus with the strain of immigration issues and drug trafficking at the USA/Mexican border, the time alone they were sharing felt more like a bittersweet mixture of heartwarming nostalgia and crude awkwardness. But the Mexican assumed it was due to her witnessing the world greatest super power at his most vulnerable and sensitive, much as he used to be before he won his freedom from Britain and the Mexican American war. Lately, it seemed that she grew too accustomed the powerful, warring, jealous, bossy, and the thoughtless side of him rather when it came to their joint international predicaments that she had forgotten how overly sentimental he could be. Mexico found a smile curl at the corner of her mouth at the recognition of their childhood as colonies riddled with occasional moments such as these.
Alfred's eyebrow hoisted at the silence of the young woman in his graces; he could only conclude that she was daydreaming, naturally he assumed she was daydreaming about him. After all, he was the hero, her hero. "Hey Maria, you okay, you look quiet. What's the matter, dreaming of me again dude?"
She blinked shrugging off her wandering reflections of their past at the sound of America's blaring cackle. After a second or two, her honey hazel eyes locked away on to Alfred's sky blue gape, and she decided to pick up the passing dialogue to fill the growing stillness in the room.
"Claro que no cabrón, [ii] why would I ever dream of you, además, [iii] the only reason you're even spending time with me was because our bosses wanted to us to strengthen our relations so that you could help me with the drug war. Other than that you hardly ever visit me unless you want to pick a fight or boss me around," Maria candidly remarked.
Alfred rolled his eyes, escaping a depleted sigh. Why did she always have to be so bitter and stubborn, couldn't she ever let anything go? Leaving his American delicacy on the stove momentarily, he walked over to the kitchen table and pulled up the chair next to her. With no response but a defiant glance back at him, America sat down and gently cupped his hand under her jaw, holding her pretty face in place.
"Maria, look at me." America pleaded in a low mutter. Mexico remained silent, her body stiffening at the request of the stronger intimidating nation. "I know that we haven't always gotten along, especially about the whole 'illegal immigration' and drug cartel stuff. But I do love you Maria. Maybe it's not as strong as it used to be, but you know I'll always be your hero right?"
The Hispanic country feebly nodded, and her rosy lips quivered as the American assertively crushed his lips over hers. Initially the kissing started off sweetly, but quickly deepened passionately when the blond tangled his gloved fingers through her flowing cascading locks, bringing their two wanton bodies nearer.
Mexico, whose curvy figure gelled into her partner currently, restrained a guttural moan in the back of her throat where the blond licentiously was entangling his own tongue with hers. Immediately sensing that his romantic partner was holding back, Alfred teasingly slithered his nimble hands up the Hispanic woman's dress until he gingerly traced the delicate lining of her lace undergarment, sending waves of pleasurable tremors down her spine that eventually released the moan into his mouth. He smirked lustfully, enjoying the sinful view of his childhood friend wither at his touch and dominance; it always managed to arouse him no matter how many times they habitually made love.
The kitchen chairs nosily clanked together as the couple feverishly continued their heavy petting and make out session, until the American decided that the chairs were in the way and roughly pushed Maria on her back to the tiled kitchen floor. Several cups and napkins fell to the floor from the impulsive decision, though it did nothing to deter America from proceeding to occupy his fellow countries' vital regions.
Feeling Alfred's finger dig deeply into her arms on the impact of the floor, Mexico bit the bottom of her lover's lip, drawing small drops of blood before tentatively sucking on the cut. America, catching the waft of the smell of her flowery fragrance, turned away to suckle on her neck passionately as he grinded his growing arousal between her legs. Instinctively following the American's frenzied direction, Maria enfolded her toned legs around his waist, allowing him to knead his hand on her ample breast, making her moans and pants increasing with each passing friction.
"Tell me how much you want it, beg for it," He huskily groaned into her neck, where he had formed a cluster of small hickeys.
"Ameri-," Mexico gasped in a moan as the American continued his governing lead and unbuttoned the top of her dress, kissing any fresh caramel toned flesh in sight. Growing impatient for a complete answer, Alfred playfully nipped her nipple through the mesh fabric of her brassiere, and Maria snaked her slender fingers to his dress shirt unbuttoning it expeditiously.
"Say it, stop teasing me," Alfred growled, reaching his tipping point.
"America-I," Mexico halted, sniffing the air filled with smoke above them. "Aye Carajo, se está quemando!" [iv]
"Yeah I know babe, I'm hot, and you're hot. Can you just say what I wanna hear so we can do it already?" He commented in a strange concoction of lust and sexual frustration.
Maria gritted her teeth irritatingly, punching the oblivious blond in the arm. "No not us pendejo, [v] your kitchen it's on fire!"
"The kitchens on fire…say what?" Just as Alfred repeated the statement entirely mystified by the piercing screech of the smoke detector went off, causing both countries to cover their ears simultaneously.
Swiftly scrambling to his feet and briefly disregarding the blaring noise before releasing a few hushed curse words under his breath, the American flung his closet door open pulling his fire extinguisher out to kill the spreading fire in the kitchen.
Mexico slowly propped up, scowling snappily with her hands remaining glued to her ears. It was once she observed the Caucasian male minutes later standing in the doorway with the extinguisher in hand, that she eventually uncovered her ears.
"So, we aren't going to let a little thing like a kitchen fire spoil our fun, right?" Alfred desperately hoped that the near death experience of killing both of them by practically carelessly burning them alive for burning unattended grilled cheese sandwiches, wouldn't dampen the mood for sex. Though, he doubted otherwise, knowing Mexico for ages he could tell by the stabbing glare on her face that it was a definite non-verbal, no.
Before Maria could even muster a contemptuous refusal to the blatantly obvious, her starving stomach growled back in response first. "Did the sandwiches at least survive?" She managed to ask with a narrowing optimism.
"Well, if we scrape the brunt off portions and the parts where I sprayed the fire extinguisher on, I guess it would be still good to eat!" Alfred exclaimed with a childish grin.
The Hispanic woman deadpanned, jerking her fallen bra strap into its proper place. "Feed me food that wouldn't kill me Alfredo, por el amor de dios!" [vii]
"Right, (I) the hero can handle that, and I'll supersize it too. I'll even let you have you have your own freedom fries this time!" America asserted in boisterous laughter.
"Lo sabia… este pinche gringo me va a matar," [viii] Mexico gripes in response.
References/Translations:
[i] The Mérida Initiative (also called Plan Mexico), Is the security cooperation agreement between the United States and the government of Mexico and the countries of Central America, with the declared aim of combating the threats of drug trafficking, transnational organized crime and money laundering.
[ii] "Of course not, bastard."
[iii]"Besides."
[iv] "Fuck, it's burning!"
[v] "Idiot/moron.
[vii] "For the love of god."
[viii] " I knew it, this American is going to kill me."(Gringo," is used as a disparaging term for a foreigner in Latin America, especially an American or English person.)