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garbinge · 9 months

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Nice But Bad

Angel Reyes & Emily Galindo Thomas From these August Prompts: Consequences Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, angsty, Mentions of death, murder, etc. Spoilers for series finale of mayans.

A/N: This is also angsty and heavy lol. A theme of mind. I love thinking of post canon now that the series is over. This is a loose translation of consequences but its the consequences of their actions and life that lead them here lol.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie

California mornings were different than Texas mornings. The heat was palpable even as early as 7AM in Texas. It wasn’t something Angel was used to but he also wasn’t going to get used it either. This was just a stop on his and Maverick’s trip to solitude. Their journey to safety. Angel was still figuring out what that was, what that looked like, the logistics of it all. Lucky for him, Maverick got up early which dragged him to the park at 7:30 in the morning and left ample amount of time for him to think about what peace would look like for them both.

Maverick loved parks, he loved the swings, he loved climbing, he loved that every park had something different. Angel and him must’ve stopped at 30 different parks during their trek over from Southern California. The park they were currently at had a sandbox, Maverick had currently found himself knee deep in the sandbox, digging, making mountains of sand, knocking them down. He’d definitely need a bath in the crap motel Angel had for one more day but he didn’t mind if the kid was having fun. Over the course of their trip, Maverick made friends at each park and play area. Today was no different, he was currently knocking down all the mounds of sand with a friend he made at some point from when they arrived to now, it wasn’t exactly hard for the kid, he was pretty friendly.

Angel began to gaze off, thinking about everything. About EZ, about Felipe, about the funeral, about stabbing EZ. All the memories flooded his brain whenever there was a vacant spot. His mind began to wander, get lost in thoughts and memories until the sound of a child’s scream alerted him to the sandbox. Without a second thought Angel was up and moving towards the two children who were screaming at a couple of wasps, he was hoping Maverick didn’t get stung, he wasn’t sure if he was allergic but today wasn’t the day he wanted to find out.

As Angel approached, he didn’t bother asking Maverick anything since he was still a bit too young for full words or sentences, he just looked him over looking for any stings or bites.

Just before he went to look at the other kid he heard a familiar voice.

“Are you okay, baby?”

A woman was hurrying over and doing the same thing Angel was by looking over her child. Angel’s eyes looked up, to confirm the voice he heard. She looked different, not too much physically, she still had short red hair, but her energy was different, there was a lightness to her that Angel hadn’t seen since they were kids, but her eyes held a heaviness in them, like they had seen terrors. Angel recognized it because he saw the same thing in his own eyes when he looked in the mirror.

“Emily?” Angel said, his hands still on Maverick’s shoulders as he looked up to the woman and then looked down to Cristobal.

Emily stood their frozen as her hands were resting on her son’s shoulders. Her mouth was slightly agape as she took in the man squatting to her left. She felt her flight or fight response kick in after a few seconds of being frozen. She brought her arms in, bringing Cristobal to her chest and then quickly behind her. “Angel.” She spoke it the opposite of a question, it was a statement, one that she only said to give her a few more seconds to think of what to do.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He picked Maverick up in his arms as he stood up, thinking maybe if she saw he had a child, his child, in his hands that he meant no harm. It was obvious what was going through Emily’s head.

Emily took in the scene for a few more seconds before she relaxed, her shoulders fell and her eyes closed before she shook her head from her own thoughts. “Sorry, uh, I guess the kids got scared by a wasp.”

“Yea, I think they bury in the sand, no one got stung though, right?” Angel looked at Maverick again to search for any sign of distress before looking over at Cristobal.

“Did the wasp sting you?” Emily lowered her self again to stare at her son who was smiling as he shook his head no.

“Why don’t you guys go to the playground instead? Play on the slides.” Angel was placing Maverick down, who immediately ran over to the metal set.

Cristobal was staring at Angel and then moved his gaze to his mother for her approval. She nodded and lightly pushed him to go towards Maverick before she stood up, wiping the sand off her pants as she did. Both of them stood next to each other as the two boys went right back to playing like they had known each other their whole lives.

Angel broke the silence as he crossed his arms.

“I, uh, what brings you to Texas?” He was searching for what the right thing to say was.

“I’d assume the same thing as you.” Emily was still guarded, which she had every right to be, with everything that has happened to her.

“Right.” Angel nodded, a little taken back by her tone.

Emily caught on immediately, her head turned to Angel, taking in the sight of him, she recognized the weight of a broken heart and the strength of a parent trying to do better for their child. She let out a sigh and crossed her arms. “You wanna sit down?” She pointed to the bench behind them.

Angel nodded in agreement and they both sat on the bench, the awkwardness got more palpable then, the space between them would make any bystander think they had no knowledge of the other, no common memories, nothing that tied them. Although, they really didn’t have much that tied them together anymore, just the two boys in front of them but the relation there wasn’t something of public knowledge or theirs.

“I feel like there’s an elephant in the room.” Angel said as his leg shook up and down.

“There’s probably 15.” Emily held back a laugh.

Both of them didn’t look at eachother, they just kept their eyes on their children in front of them.

“Yea.” Angel let out a chuckle too but quickly reigned it in as the thoughts filled his mind. Emily’s face did the same as the weight of the memories sat on her shoulders.

“Do you remember EZ’s high school graduation?” Angel spoke up again as he remembered sitting in between Felipe and Emily.

“I do, you made paper airplanes that you threw throughout the arena.” Emily proved her remembrance of the day.

“Flew them. I flew them.” Angel corrected her. “And if I remember, you gave me pages from your program, you fed the bad habit.”

“Oh I was the enabler.” Emily laughed. “Felipe scolded you like you were 15 years old.”

“I’d like to remind you I was like 23 and living on my own.”

“I’m not sure what that proves.” Emily was still laughing.

“I wish things were as simple as they were back then.” Angel got serious.

Emily stopped laughing and thought back, it was simple, and they didn’t even realize it. “It was inevitable that it was going to get complicated.”

Angel didn’t understand that.

“He always had a cloud over him, Angel.” Emily got serious as well.

Angel looked over at her now, but Emily continued to look forward. His face was full of question, wondering what things EZ and her had talked about that made her see that cloud, it was something he never cared about when they were dating, nothing he even thought twice about until now. Then it hit him, she might not have known, she knew EZ so well, his first love, his first real girlfriend, everything that happened between them during and after their relationship. She deserved to know.

“I don’t know if you know but–” Angel began to speak, now doing anything he could to avoid eye contact with her.

“I know.” She cut him off, saving Angel from having to say the words. EZ is dead.

“I saw the news. That the DOJ raided the clubhouse, that there were minimal survivors.” There was a lump in her throat as she said it.

While that was the truth, there was so much more to it and Angel sat there wondering if he should clarify, what that would even sound like, what he would say.

“Seeing you, I thought I was seeing a ghost.” She smiled at that, trying to break the tension and weight of the conversation.

“I got out.” Angel spoke immediately to answer Emily’s statement. “Before the raid,” Angel pointed to Maverick who was being helped up the stairs of the play set by Cristobal. “I left the club for him.”

“As incredibly sad as this all is, Angel. I’m happy to see you out. He deserves that.” Emily nodded to the kids.

“They both do.” Angel corrected her.

Emily looked at Angel now, wondering what he meant, what he knew.

“I saw the news.” Her statement was being repeated to her, but it had to be all over, Miguel Galindo killed by his security guard.

“Oh.” Was the only thing that could come out of her mouth at Angel’s words.

Angel had nothing to say to that, so they both sat there, with their own weighted cloud above them watching their children play and laugh together.

“Em?” Angel’s voice was soft as he spoke the nickname EZ used so often for the woman. “At, at my Pop’s funeral, your– uh, Miguel, he came by, he had these photos. It was weird, he wasn’t there to gloat or be an ass he was just–sad, I don’t know, I don’t even know what I’m asking you.”

“Dita– Miguel’s mother. She knew Felipe. I think, I wanted to believe the bright side of things, especially when the dark side was sucking everything up but, I don’t know it’s all speculation and me thinking about things on the ride but–”

“Miguel was Felipe’s son.” Angel spoke out loud what Emily had been trying to wrap her head around for weeks. “My brother.” Angel nodded. “I had my suspicions.” Angel thought back to his conversation with Miguel, him not telling the club or the cartel that he burned the warehouse down, the pictures, him coming to the funeral, the genuine look on his face. It didn’t matter now, the fact of it all. He was dead, along with Angel’s other brother, and their father.

Emily was silent, despite the thought being pinballed in her head all these days, all these weeks, now it felt more solidified. It felt confirmed, although it never would be fully confirmed. She had her own reasons for her own suspicions, the photos she found of Dita and Felipe, her conversations with Felipe, Miguel’s mother, all of it. But the main thing that was sitting heavy on her mind was she had fallen in love with two Reyes brothers. Maybe the cloud that was hovering over EZ was actually hers, she was destined to cross their path in one way or another. EZ wouldn’t have killed her sister, though. Although, she didn’t know EZ the way she used to anymore so maybe he would have. The thoughts could have buried her, she could have drowned in the rabbit hole of them all, the thought that the little girl she once was grew up to have so much death, destruction, and heart break in her life and she wasn’t an innocent in the story at all. She was apart of that death, that destruction, that hurt.

“You know, that uh, makes them cousins.”

Angel interrupted her thoughts, Emily turned to look at him and then back at the kids.

They were still laughing, there wasn’t a moment where they weren’t giggling honestly, it was kind of amazing, there was no conversation between the two, only laughs and playful actions.

“Yea, that would.” There was a moment between the both of them of peace. It wasn’t the peace either of them were looking for but it didn’t take away from the tranquility of it all.

“You know this is it, right?” About 15 minutes had passed before they said anything to each other. She thought she was going to have to explain herself but then Angel agreed.

“I know. But we should let them have this moment.” Angel leaned back and relaxed.

“So where are you headed?” Emily asked, taking a deep breath.

Angel turned to look at her now, and tilted his head. It was it’s own response but he asked her a questions to really sell his point.

“You really wanna know?”

“No,” She shook her head with a smile. “I think that’ll make this harder.”

“He wanted to go, Em.” Angel spoke up, still staring at the woman.

She nodded, understanding his sentence even though it broke her.

“Do you?” She asked Angel, this was more a personal question, one that had nothing to do with the past, but simultaneously had everything to do with the past. Her voice was sincere, almost like she was asking to figure out her own answer, figure out what she should be thinking, should be feeling. Ironically, they were in similar situations.

“Now that I got him, no.” Angel’s voice was solid, no shaking no hesitation. But that meant he thought about it, and little to Emily’s knowledge he thought about it a lot alongside of every negative memory over the last few years. But it always came back to Maverick.

“Yea, me too.” She agreed, her answer was solid too, although the question was asked curiously with the idea her answer was in the air, deep down she knew.

“He needs you.” Angel was staring at Emily, almost like he could hear her inner thoughts.

“It’s a shame, they really seem to get along.” Emilky changed the topic immediately.

“Yea, they do.” A chuckle came from Angel’s mouth as he spoke and looked out at the kids.

“We could maybe do something like this, once a year, agree on a location and date for the next year each time.” Emily shrugged, backtracking slightly on her earlier statement.

“We could.” Angel was slightly reluctant. “But what happens when they’re older, and start to question it?”

“We would discuss it year to year.” Emily joked, the smile growing on her face before it faded away.

“It’s probably a bad idea.” Angel crossed his arms.

“Yea.” Emily agreed, crossing her legs.

“It was a nice idea, though.” Angel wanted to express how much he wished it was possible. “Nice but bad.”

Emily agreed, “Yea, nice but bad.”

Time passed by, they each didn’t want to pull the kids away from each other but they knew they were running on a ticking clock. It was now early afternoon, the sun was getting stronger as the seconds passed and both Emily and Angel knew that their time had run out.

“We should probably get going.” She stood up which made Angel follow.

“Yea, us too.”

The two of them walked over to the kids, grabbed them, got them settled on the bench while they packed up toys and such in both of their bags. The kids were fighting sleep on the bench, Maverick was horizontal and pretty much fully asleep while Cristobal was nodding off, his head falling backwards as the exhaustion from the sun and playing caught up to him.

“This was nice.” Emily said as she was finally all packed up and now had a sleeping Cristobal in her arms.

Angel was in the process of picking up Maverick, letting him rest over his shoulder. “But bad.” He was teasing although there was truth in it. Both of them didn’t really know if anyone was after them, if anyone had followed them, was watching them.

“Yea, nice but bad.” Emily agreed with a small smile on her face.

Angel shrugged like his next statement wasn’t going to be filled with intricacies and much thought to be had.

“Good luck, Em. Maybe I’ll see you here this time next year.”

#Mayans MC #Mayans FX #Mayans #Mayans Fanfic #Emily Galindo #Emily Thomas #Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes & Emily Thomas #Angel Reyes & Emily Galindo

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grande-caps · 10 months

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Mayans M.C 5.10 - "Slow to Bleed Fair Son "

Quality : HD screencaptures Amount : 2.141 files Resolution : 1.920 x 960 px

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ezekeil-reyes · 1 year

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despite everything that has changed, ez and emily still crush my heart

#mayans mc #ez reyes #mayans fx #mayans m.c.#emily thomas #emily galindo #mayans spoilers #ezekiel reyes

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thesearetheirstcries · 2 years

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I knowwww people hate Emily with a passion, but you have to look at her actions as someone who never got closure on a relationship. EZ made the choice to unceremoniously dump her (valid but kinda shitty) despite their two year relationship. So she had to make a shitty choice on her own later and she had to essentially start over. But for the longest ass time, EZ was Emily's safe place, so it makes sense for her in moments of uncertainty or panic to run to him. She knows he'll have her back, because despite all the shit, once upon a time they loved each other. Should she go back to him? Nope. But who the heck can she run if not him? She's alone. She has a rocky relationship with her MIL, her support system is nonexistent and on her hubby's payroll. Once Miguel starts going ultra cartel boss, who does she have? No one. So yeah it's not okay that she keeps running to EZ when she needs help, but narrative, it makes sense

#the storyteller (ooc)#mayans mc #yes im watching all of mayans rn #emily galindo #Emily thomas #i just have THOUGHTS

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drabbles-mc · 2 years

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Basically I’d love a timeline of their relationship!! (Galindo and Emily) thanks girl

Okay, so here is the Miguel/Emily timeline as I understand it! I believe they met when they were in college, or shortly thereafter. I think that Emily made a comment to that effect at one point, which would make sense since she'd be fresh off her relationship with EZ which had a less than stellar ending. (Plus her sister Erin made a comment about Emily trading in one shadow for another which gave me the vibe that there wasn't a ton of time between her two relationships? But that's just my assumption.)

There really isn't much discussion or elaboration on what took place between the two of them getting together and what we see when the show starts. Emily mentions that she and her family got distant because of her marriage to Miguel, but nothing more than that is ever really said.

The show picks up when Cristobal is still a baby, and EZ is pretty fresh out of prison. So everything that happened between Emily and Miguel happened in the eight years that EZ was in prison, which tbh that timeline seems to make sense.

I'm not sure if you've watched the whole show or not, so I don't want to go off on a tangent explaining everything that happens between them in canon if you already know 😂 But in terms of backstory, that's what I've pieced together so far! I hope this was sort of what you were looking for, but if there's anything else you wanna know I'll always try my best to answer!

#ask #asks #emily thomas #emily galindo #miguel galindo #anonymous

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 3 months

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hellsurvivr · 10 months

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Sons of anarchy / Mayans mc

Send me 📖 + a fandom, and I’ll tell you a muse (or several muses) from this fandom I’ve thought about writing

OH WOW, here's a hard choice. but erm i'll give it go ......

SONS OF ANARCHY

Wendy Case

Tig Trager

Opie Winston

Tara Knowles

Clay Morrow

Gemma Teller

MAYANS MC

now i am not up to date. i have about 2 seasons to catch up but

Angel Reyes

Ez Reyes

Emily Thomas

Miguel Galindo

Leticia

Bishop

#anonymous #ooc answered.

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satashiiwrites · 2 years

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Having some editing fun tonight.

Title: The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss

Fandom: Mayans MC (but it’s completely AU)

Pairing: Miguel Galindo/Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes, prior Miguel Galindo/Emily Galindo née Thomas, prior Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes/Emily Thomas, Angel Reyes/Adelita, Angel Reyes/Johnny “Coco” Cruz, various others background

Fic Summary:

EZ Reyes came online with his mother’s violent death and suffered the consequences of his actions in the aftermath. When Jimenez offers him a deal to turn evidence in on the Galindo cartel, he agreed as he’d brought shame on his tribe by his actions and it was a chance at redemption that he didn’t feel he deserved. He just didn’t anticipate who his guide would be and the amount of trouble they’d generate for him.

Miguel had goals—to legitimize the family business, enjoy life and his family. He didn’t anticipate any of the events that forced him online as a guide but now that he has a sentinel he’s not letting him go.

Tags/Warnings: Sentinel/Guide AU, Completely AU from series—minimal knowledge required to enjoy (you could just look up pictures of the actors…), KJ lives (because him dying was a terrible idea), Sentinel/Guide bonding type sex, unrealistic depictions of sex (bonding sex), spirit animals, Angel should listen to Coco, EZ is a home wrecker (kinda—but is he really?), work in progress

Read the published chapters here on AO3

#mayans mc #mayans mc fic #the outlaw and the cartel boss #wip #playing with chapter art #Miguel Galindo x Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes #sentinel/guide AU #sentinel/guide #rotating pov

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samcro-jnt · 2 years

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SOA (and maybe Mayans) and which Hogwarts house they’d sort into?

thank you for this question 🥰 i did both of them but if i missed someone please just send me a name and i’ll answer it with where i’d put them.. also if i couldn’t see them in any specific house i have them different jobs.. just for funzies

this is purely vibes based.. no real rime or reason.. anyone can disagree on where i put them i don’t really care. i did what amuses me and hopefully everyone who sees this.

Gemma Teller-Morrow - Slytherin..

Jax Teller - Gryffindor

Bobby Munson - Ravenclaw

Tig Trager - Gryffindor

Chibs Telford - Slytherin… don’t ask me why but Slytherin definitely

Half-Sack Epps - Hufflepuff

Tara Knowles-Teller - Ravenclaw

Clay Morrow - Gryffindor

Opie Winston - Gryffindor

Piney Winston - Herbology Teacher

Juice Ortiz - he wants Ravenclaw but imma go with Hufflepuff.. don’t know why

Wayne Unser - Gringotts Wizarding Bank.. don’t know what he does there, but that’s where he is lol

Happy Lowman - Study of Ancient Runes Teacher… undercover death eater

Ratboy Skogstrom - Hufflepuff

Nero Padilla - works at Ollivanders

Kozik - teaches Flying

________________________

Angel Reyes - Gryffindor

Ez Reyes - Gryffindor but full fucking death eater

Emily Thomas - Ravenclaw

Bishop Losa - teaches defense against the dark arts successfully also an undercover death eater on the side (he and happy are partners undercover, not sexually but that watch eachothers backs.. they know who eachother are)

Adelita - Gryffindor

Johnny Cruz - my head says Ravenclaw but my heart says Slytherin.. he would be totally fine with any of them but would he disappointed with Hufflepuff (queue Hufflepuff gf enter stage right)

Taza Romero - History of Magic Teacher

Neron Vargas - see coco’s answer bc wherever coco goes he goes

Riz Ariza - Slytherin or Gryffindor

Miguel Galindo - Transfiguration Teacher… but instead of a cat he turns into a Cane Corso

Felipe Reyes - Astronomy Teacher former Gryffindor

Marcus Álvarez - administration former Ravenclaw

Gabriela 'Gaby' Castillo - Slytherin

Leticia Cruz - Slytherin

#not sure why but after i thought about coco and creep beings twitch streams #i can’t get over the thought of them being inseparable if you see one you see the other #that’s why their answers looks like they do #creep helped coco get sober and they turned to video games as something they both can do together #along with bikes and the club and guy stuff #idk idk idk i just love them #answered

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grande-caps · 10 months

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Mayans M.C 5.09 - " I Must Go in Now for the Fog Is Rising"

Quality : HD screencaptures Amount : 1.130 files Resolution : 1.920 x 960 px

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detectiveguapo · 6 years

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Emily Thomas-Galindo [INTJ] -- The Architect

The first impression of Emily paints a completely different picture of who she is by the end of the first season. For someone who makes a conscious choice to stay out of the inner circle of the Galindo cartel, an ‘awakened’ Emily is a woman keen to find out why things are the way they are. She doesn’t just want to know the details of how Los Olvidados managed to kidnap her son, their demands, or the plan to get him back; she wants to know why. Delving into the movement, she unveils the rebels’ strategy and objectives and uses that knowledge to undermine them by swaying public opinion. Her natural curiosity and intelligence compel her to reveal an identity hinged on ideas that are instrumental in making big decisions.

Strengths: perceptive, strategic, decisive, self-confident, independent, loyal

Weaknesses: insular, disconnected, overly analytical, judgemental, high-strung

Although very cerebral, Emily is protective of her knowledge. She goes to EZ to try to get information the cartel isn’t providing her, and she doesn’t tell Miguel what she knows until she’s confronted. She values her independence and freedom to see EZ and go to Santo Padre without running it by Miguel, but she doesn’t go through great lengths to be deceptive about it nor does she apologize for it. She knows her reasons for doing these things are to gather information — whether it’s to find Cristobal or to reconcile her guilt over an abortion she had eight years ago. Protecting this knowledge gives her the time to contemplate and understand the most intimate truths about people, only wielding them when it’s advantageous. For example, when she and Miguel fight, she calls him out for being abusive just like his father — a provocation that unsettles him. Her artful use of exposing or threatening to expose secrets is her weapon in a world of guns and machetes.

As a lawyer, Emily has a degree of expertise that connects her with the world and makes her feel useful. It’s important for her to have this connection because her inclination is to withdraw into herself and focus on her thoughts until she sees that she is needed. In addition, being a lawyer equips her with the skill of persuasion. She is able to adjust her tone and delivery depending on what’s called for in a given situation. When she presents her plan to vandalize the church, she is firm even when Devante patronizes her. When Miguel begins to doubt his decision to align with Los Olvidados instead of fully cooperating with the feds, she speaks in a gentle and reassuring manner that bolsters Miguel’s confidence and maneuvers him back to trusting his instincts. While she isn’t eager to take command, she is adept at reading people, recognizing threats to power, and leveraging her influence in a way that doesn’t make people feel manipulated.

When EZ says they’re done, Emily’s inner world crashes. Everything they had dreamt for the future was obliterated and she was given no say in the matter, so her extreme antagonistic reaction was to similarly deprive him of a choice in the matter of their unborn child. For Emily, it was an uncharacteristically impulsive decision that haunts her years later. There’s a suggestion that Emily’s understanding of the abortion (not necessarily the act itself but the intent) was more traumatizing to her than it was to EZ, who could understand the many reasons why someone in her position would’ve gone through with it. Emily’s withdrawal into her thoughts can lead to obsessive contemplation of the meaning behind certain actions and experiences. It’s this proclivity for reflection and rationalization that allows Emily to settle into her world and make peace with it.

Emily’s ability to isolate herself and tune out the noise gives her an advantage to focus on developing strategic solutions for complex problems. Her greatest personal challenge is to feel useless and helpless. When she’s in a high-pressure situation with her son’s life at stake, she employs her competence and skills in an effort to get him back from the rebels. It doesn’t happen right away though because of her outlying position from the inner circle and her initial choice to disengage from the criminal world. She, first, goes through a period of anxiety — a frenetic search for facts before she settles and makes better use of her abilities. Her motivation, which unfolds as the season progresses, is to possess knowledge in order to figure out and handle the threats to her environment. It’s why she relies on her experience as a lawyer in later episodes; her proficiency becomes a vital asset to the business and the newfound alliance between the cartel, the rebels, and the Mayans.

Prior to the life-changing event of her son’s kidnapping, Emily’s characterization is akin to the stereotypical mob wife’s — fiercely loyal to her family but largely ignorant of the bloodshed caused by her husband’s line of work. Up to that particular point, one can only make assumptions about her state of mind since the audience has little to no information of who she was between the breakup with EZ and the night Cristobal was taken. It might be safe to assume, however, that Miguel and Emily came to an agreement that she would be outside his “other world” to protect her. To add to that assumption, perhaps Emily had felt like such an outsider, who didn’t feel like she had the natural ability to be a presence in this “other world” because she had no criminal history of her own. Why would she deliberately implicate herself in her husband’s crimes? This led her to take a step back, safe in her home with her son and with the “good” version of Miguel. Disconnecting from reality pulled her further into her mind where she felt more capable — a sense or feeling that is so important to her.

Functional Order: Ni - Te - Fi - Se

A dominant introverted intuition manifests as Emily’s perceptiveness for the meaningful connections between ideas and events in her environment. As she learns more about the cartel and all the players involved, she seeks to determine the meaning and implication behind those relationships. Just by observing her body language, she is wary of how Devante uses his position and familial connection to subtly manipulate Miguel. Through research, she figures out that Los Olvidados is using ISIS’ strategy to infiltrate a town, and she proposes an idea that shifts the narrative of hero and savior.

Emily’s knack for accurately interpreting ideas and events allows her to design practical, effective strategies to address problems. The way to get under her skin is to put her in a situation where everything seems to be out of control and no one is making any effective steps toward progress. While she isn’t taking action as soon as the problem presents itself, she cannot sit still for long without doing anything. She doesn’t impose or outright claim that she has the best ideas, but she is the most assertive when she is confident she has created the most effective and reliable course of action. While her strength may not be in leadership — in the sense of being a commander — her strengths are in advising, organizing, and prioritizing with a focused objective in mind.

A tertiary Fi manifests as drawing upon an unwavering set of values that determine many of her major decisions. She adheres to her own set of values — not those dictated by society because Emily doesn’t really subscribe to the idea of an objective morality. She doesn’t accept received opinions, feeling a strong need to test the truth and argue the validity of most of these assumptions for herself. On the flip side, she can veer into moralizing territory when others’ values and ethics don’t align with her personal understanding of right and wrong. For example, she exhibits an air of self-righteousness when she speaks of Los Olvidados as terrorists who kidnapped her son, while she’s living on a hilltop mansion funded by the dirty money of her cartel kingpin husband. That being said, her own child was taken from her at gunpoint; it’s not surprising that she has little empathy for the rebels’ approach. Emily values knowledge because she needs all the contextual information she can get in order to justify (to herself more than anyone else) the choices she has made.

Thinking she lives in a world that cannot be touched by the world of the cartel is an inferior Se in action. It’s expressed as distrust and willful disbelief of the physical world and what is actually happening. It’s a pervasive belief that her perception and interpretation of events and people are somehow truer than sensory experience. Disengagement from one significant area of reality was Emily’s ‘default mode’ at the beginning of the series, but the expression of inferior Se shifts when she finally takes in the sensory data and over-analyzes the meaning. It leads to this obsessive reflection on the most negative aspects of her experiences, perhaps making connections where there shouldn’t be like when she thinks Cristobal’s kidnapping is punishment for having an abortion out of spite. Although there are multiple reasons why a pregnant teenage girl, with an ex-boyfriend in prison, would choose to have an abortion, she fixates on the vindictive intent and the guilt that resurfaces.

Emily only has a few people in her life she has deeply cared for, and in those instances, she will go to the ends of the earth to follow them and support them, sometimes sacrificing normalcy and stability. She was willing to stay with EZ even though he was imprisoned. EZ breaking up with her — no matter how selfless his intentions might have been — hurt Emily because it blindsided her and made her feel powerless. He didn’t talk to her before making the decision so she didn’t feel like she was part of it at all, so she retaliated by showing him the ultrasound and giving him no say in the matter. It’s only in matters of the heart where her pragmatism can wane and defer to extreme emotions. She slaps Miguel during a heated argument then they proceed to have sex. It doesn’t make sense and she doesn’t stop to think about it or talk herself out of it; she just surrenders to whatever sensation or emotion she’s feeling as quickly as it changes.

Someone like Emily is willing to work at relationships, refusing to give up unless she’s given no choice. The reason why is because she’ll always try to find a solution and she’ll always try to understand the misunderstood (provided they don’t give her a reason to be unsympathetic — like kidnapping her child). It’s not that she wants to fix people and make them better human beings; it’s that she encourages them to stay focused on what’s most important and what will benefit them most in the long-run. For EZ, it was not going down the hole of chasing retribution for his mother’s murder. For Miguel, it was maintaining and asserting the power of the family business, and she was able to help him once she stepped up and freely expressed her ideas. There’s a scene in the hospital where Devante tells Emily that she’s a little too bold for his comfort — a side of her that Miguel loves. Now that she’s settled into the life and become part of that inner circle, she has more access to information than ever before. And information fuels her; it makes her bolder.

#mayans mc #mayans fx #emily thomas #emily-thomas galindo #sarah bolger #mbti #intj #character profile #personality profile #fyna

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mistressvera · 2 years

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#mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans spoilers #erin thomas #emily galindo #mayansmcedit #erin x emily #mayans mc s4 #4x03 #holland roden #sarah bolger

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Left Behind

Nestor Oceteva x Erin Thomas

For Day 21 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: scars / "It's just a scratch."

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, mentions of blood/injury, alcohol

This fic is technically a follow-up to Doctor Recommended but it can be read as a standalone.

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I went into this with whump in mind and somehow it turned into smut. So. You know. We're being generous with calling this a whump fic lmao. Also I write smut once maybe every five thousand years?? So go easy on me. Honestly, mj said that they need to make out and fuck on the counter and they were so right!!! So here goes!!!

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @narcolini @darqchilddaydreamz @passionatewrites @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

There was a specific type of stillness in the house since Miguel, Emily, and Cristobal had left. Erin was looking forward to having the entire Galindo mansion all to herself. She knew better than to ask why she hadn’t been part of the family invite to go to whatever event for whatever cover business Miguel was currently opening. The reality was that they were doing her a favor leaving her behind, because it wasn’t like she would’ve had a good time anyway.

She’d had her music on, for the entire afternoon, content to relax and enjoy herself with no spectators around for once. As the afternoon started to fade into the evening, she let herself into Emily’s extensive stash of wine. She figured that it wasn’t as though her sister was really going to notice a bottle or two missing—reality was that someone would probably replace them before anyone else besides Erin even knew that they were gone.

She was upstairs, changing and swapping out her regular clothes for her pajamas. Her cropped t-shirt being exchanged for an over-sized one, jeans being traded in for a pair of soft shorts. She was in the middle of that when she heard the door shutting downstairs.

Neither Miguel nor Emily had mentioned anything about anyone stopping by while they were gone for the next couple of days. Erin figured that maybe one of the various people they hired to help take care of the house, the pool, the garden, the whatever, might stop by at some point. But it was a little late for that. She frowned for a moment, leaning down and reaching underneath what had become her bed for the baseball bat that she’d gotten to keep under there after the last time she got scared and realized that all she had to defend herself were her own two hands.

Emily had laughed and rolled her eyes when Erin came home with it. And why wouldn’t she? Why would a woman whose husband had a whole security team dedicated to keeping her safe and running interference ever feel like she needed an extra line of protection? But Erin didn’t trust anyone enough to not have a failsafe. She definitely didn’t have enough faith in Miguel to trust him blindly.

Creeping quietly across the hallway that led to the staircase, Erin kept her bat raised and at the ready. Her bare feet were silent on the staircase as she slowly made her way down. She was nearly to the bottom step when whoever it was that had entered the house turned her music down. She frowned, adjusting her grip around the handle before stepping onto the first floor of the house.

She heard someone’s footsteps coming from the kitchen, and she felt herself holding her breath as she waited to catch sight of whoever it was, or hear them. There was the muffled clattering of things hitting the counter. She took a couple more steps towards the kitchen when she caught a quick glimpse of him, shuffling around the kitchen putting things away.

She sighed, arms dropping back to her sides, tip of the bat tapping harshly against the hardwood floor. “What the fuck, Nestor?”

He materialized, stepping out around the dividing wall between the kitchen and the rest of the house. “What?”

She made a broad gesture with her empty hand. “Do you ever think to announce yourself? Say hello, maybe?”

“Who else would it be?”

She pointed the bat at him. “That’s exactly my fucking point.”

He shrugged. “Least you brought a bat with you this time.”

Despite the initial urge to laugh at his comment, Erin mentioned to refrain. In turn, she made her own reference to the run-in they’d had about a month prior. “Least you can use both arms this time.”

He didn’t smile but Erin could see the way that he almost wanted to. Perching the bat against her shoulder, she strode into the kitchen. Nestor waited for her to say something else, but when she didn’t, he went back to the task he’d been engrossed in before. Erin leaned against her side of the island, watching as he put things away. All the time that she’d been spending at Emily and Miguel’s house, and she still couldn’t say with certainty if there was anything that necessarily fell outside of Nestor’s scope of responsibility.

“Thought you would’ve been part of the family vacation,” she finally said.

Nestor shrugged, not turning around to face her as he replied, “Could say the same about you.”

Erin laughed at that. “Emily treats me like a feral cat—she’ll feed me at home but she’s sure as shit not gonna bring me anywhere.” She paused. “What’s your excuse?”

He pulled out a bottle of wine, same label as the one that was already on the counter and nearly empty. “Taking care of the feral cat.”

She laughed again. “Oh, he has a sense of humor.” She finally set the bat down, leaning it against the side of the island. “Just takes being in an empty house.” There was a stretch of silence before Erin spoke up again. “You don’t have to stay. Feels like a waste of time.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Right. You have a bat.”

She smirked. “Exactly. See? You get it. So go home.”

“Can’t,” he said with another shake of his head.

Erin rolled her eyes. “Your boyfriend isn’t here—you don’t have to listen to him. I’m not gonna snitch on you to Mike if you actually decide to go and try to have a life for the next forty-eight hours.”

“Erin,” exasperation was dripping off the singular word, so much so that he didn’t even have to say anything else.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes as she walked over to the speaker that her phone was hooked up to, turning the volume back up a bit as she continued, “but you don’t get to turn my music off.”

The two of moved around each other, both working separately in the same space. Nestor was putting away the last few things that he’d brought, and Erin was finally starting to pull something together for dinner. For as much as Nestor wanted to reach over and turn the music back down, he did have to admit that the noise made it so that he didn’t feel like he was supposed to be entertaining some kind of conversation. Erin had no problem doing most of the talking anyway, but this was all much more Nestor’s speed.

Erin was reaching for something in the same cabinet as Nestor when she saw a stain on his sleeve. Normally it wasn’t something that she would notice or pay much mind to, but the rust color that was tarnishing the floral print of his button-down was difficult to ignore.

“What happened to your arm?” she asked, her tone casual as she moved back to the stove.

Nestor’s brows furrowed as he turned his arm over to look at what exactly she was referring to. He frowned, more out of annoyance than pain. Shaking his head, he said, “Nothing.”

Erin chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think you know what that word means.”

He didn’t want to feed into the argument but before he could stop himself, he said, “It’s fine.”

She stopped, turning so that she was facing him. “It’s nothing,” she mocked, “It’s fine. It’s just a scratch.” She shook her head at him. “You’re gonna lose that arm, dude.”

Nestor took a deep breath, like he was gearing up to have some sort of response that would stop the debate before it began. Instead, he let out a sigh and finished up what he was doing, shutting the cabinet when he was done. Without another word, he turned and started to walk out of the kitchen, giving Erin the space she had clearly been looking forward to having when everyone else had left.

He didn’t even make it past the threshold when she spoke up. “Let me see it.” She watched as he turned around, confusion on his face. “Let me see your arm,” she elaborated.

Nestor wanted to ask why, wanted to have some sort of slick, sarcastic comment in response to the question the same way she seemed to have one for everything that he, or anyone else really, ever said. Nothing came out, though. He simply just shook his head.

“I’m serious,” she said as she took a step in his direction.

“Since when?”

She scoffed. “You know, what? Fine.” She threw her hands up in defeat. “But when you have to get that shit amputated, I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

The cut really hadn’t been that bad. It hadn’t even needed stitches. And, coming off having to wear a sling for the last month, it hardly even made a blip on his radar. Still, despite the fact that Erin was talking like she was going to give up on the whole thing, Nestor knew better. She was nothing if not incessant. With a deep sigh, he walked back over, undoing the buttons at the cuff of his sleeve as he went.

Rolling the fabric back, Nestor revealed the white gauze that was wrapped around his forearm. Well, the gauze had started off white. It was almost entirely red now, the gash running up his forearm having reopened at some point throughout the day when he hadn’t realized it. He was looking down at the blood-soaked bandage, clearly unimpressed.

When his eyes wandered back up to Erin’s face, he couldn’t get a good read on her expression. It wasn’t really one that he’d seen on her before. He stood and waited for the joke, the jab, but it never came. He watched her shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. Shaking her head, she turned around and went to shut the stove off, clearly abandoning whatever plans she’d had for making dinner for herself.

“What?” he finally asked.

She gestured to the bandage. “You can’t leave it like that.”

He shrugged. “I can take care—”

“Obviously, you can’t. Or won’t. Either way…” her voice trailed off as she walked out of the kitchen and went off to get something to replace the bandage with.

Nestor called after her, but she didn’t even give him a verbal response. All he got was a good look at the back of her head and a waving-off gesture as she went off to do exactly what she wanted to and nothing less.

When she came back, she had a first aid kit in her hands. Nestor watched her from where he was seated at the island. His arm was perched against it, a dish towel keeping him from getting blood all over the countertop.

She set the first aid kit onto the surface of the island next to him. She studied his forearm before she looked him in the eyes again. “Couldn’t take the bandage off while I was gone?”

“I told you it’s fine,” he repeated, no real emotion coming through his voice one way or another.

She rolled her eyes. “How have you lived this long when you have no self-preservation skills?”

Nestor could sense that the question was rhetorical, so he kept his mouth shut as he watched her start to slowly peel away and unravel the gauze that was wrapped around his forearm. The pull of it against the cut that was trying to clot stung every now and then, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t let it show.

The more gauze she unraveled, the more Erin realized that the cut was more serious than she had originally thought. She noticed the way that it continued up underneath his sleeve, skin she didn’t have access to. Exhaling through her nose, she looked up at the ceiling for a second before looking back at Nestor.

“You’re not going to make me ask, are you?”

He lifted is eyebrows slightly. “Ask what?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “So you are going to make me ask, make me feel like some kind of creep.” She tapped the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. “Take this off.”

Much to Erin’s surprise, Nestor didn’t bat an eye at the request. She figured that he would drag it out, or just outright refuse. But he just reached and started to undo the buttons on his dress-shirt. He wasn’t looking at her as he said, “Wasn’t a question, but alright.”

She laughed quietly. “Can’t say no if it’s not a question.”

That got half of a smirk out of him. Erin was picking through the kit on the counter. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, out of the corner of her eye she couldn’t help but to notice all of the ink on his chest and stomach. She expected him to have on a tank top or a t-shirt underneath—it was a surprise but it wasn’t one that she was upset about.

Her eyes were still trained on the bandages in the first aid kit as she said, “No undershirt? Seems a little scandalous for the workplace.”

Nestor huffed out something that was almost a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting to have to take my shirt off.”

She looked over at him then, eyes moving even though her head didn’t. “That’s fair.”

That was the last comment she made about it as she went back to taking off what little gauze was still wrapped around his arm. She promptly tossed the bloodied bandage into the trash can before grabbing a washcloth to run under warm water, something to clean off the dried blood that was still stuck to his skin.

Nestor was surprised at how careful and gentle she was as she cleaned the blood away. With someone who seemed to move through life with nothing but reckless abandon, he wasn’t mentally prepared for her to have such a deft hand with this. He didn’t comment on it, though.

“Should I even bother asking how this happened?” Erin couldn’t even try to venture a guess. Despite what Nestor had said to her before, it was much more than just a scratch. If it had been any worse he definitely would’ve needed stitches. He probably still needed to get it checked out by a professional but she was sure that that hadn’t happened. Then he’d have to give some doctor an explanation that wasn’t whatever illegal activities had most definitely caused the injury.

He didn’t want to tell her, but he didn’t want to lie to her, either. So, he shook his head. “No.”

She smiled even though she knew she probably shouldn’t. “Right.”

Even though Nestor very rarely took the time to take as much care of his injuries as he should, he did know basic first aid. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but his default was thinking that Erin probably didn’t. He kept a close eye on her as she worked. Even with the music in the background, it still felt like the house was extremely quiet. Nestor was watching Erin and her singular focus on his arm, the way that she finished cleaning and started wrapping it back up again. He had been waiting for an opportunity to advise or correct her, but it didn’t happen.

He wanted to ask her how she got so good efficient at it, why she was able to do it so confidently, but he had the feeling that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of her. He watched with piqued interest as she tied off the last of the gauze, the small knot resting on his arm just enough to the side where it wouldn’t get in the way of him comfortably resting his arm against the counter or anything else.

She finally pried her eyes from his arm and looked back up at his face. “Any other injuries I should know about?”

He shook his head, fighting harder than he cared to admit to keep a neutral expression—he’d never hear the end of it if he let her know that he was impressed. “No.”

Shrugging, she walked back towards the sink. “Alright.”

Now that she didn’t have to devote her focus to the open wound on his arm, Erin took a moment to actually look at the rest of him. She knew that she shouldn’t have been surprised, necessarily, to find out that most of him was covered in tattoos, but she still found herself staring longer than she should’ve as she scrubbed his blood from her hands.

When she looked back up at his face, she found him already staring at her. Her face suddenly felt hot and this warmth wasn’t coming from the wine she’d been drinking all evening. Clearing her throat, she reached and shut the faucet off. “Shit’s probably gonna scar,” she said, nodding towards his arm as she dried her hands. “It’s probably going to mess up your ink.”

He shook his head, holding his button-down in his hand but not making any move to put it back on yet. “I’m used to it.”

Erin chuckled, not sure what else was a proper response to that statement. “Good? I guess?” She shook her head as she walked back over to him. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“You always come up with something.”

It wasn’t untrue. However, now that she was closer to him, she had a hard time coming up with something to say about anything. She looked at his other tattoos, all of the ink splattered across his chest and down his arms, territory that was usually buried underneath one of what seemed like a thousand different floral dress shirts. And, sure enough, when she looked closely at a few of them, she could see the blemishes, scars that broke up what used to be perfect lines and seamless shading. All that damage and for what?

Before she even knew what she was doing, Erin reached out and traced her fingertips along one of the raised scars that was just below Nestor’s shoulder, running parallel to it and stopping just before it reached his arm. He didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch in the slightest. But it only took a couple seconds for Erin to realize what she was doing, quickly yanking her hand back as embarrassment flooded her face, a look that Nestor wasn’t acquainted with on her.

“Shit. Sorry. That,” she laughed nervously, “that was fucking weird of me.”

“It’s fine.” The words didn’t match up with the neutral expression on his face, but neutral was the best Nestor could do as he tried to figure out what he was actually feeling.

Erin laughed, shaking her head. “No, it’s n—” She stopped herself short when she finally looked him in the eyes again, the look in them one that she hadn’t seen before.

Nestor watched the embarrassment melt away from her expression the longer that she stood there looking at him. She wanted to say something, do something, but never in her life had she been able to gauge what Nestor was actually feeling or thinking. The last thing she wanted to do was make this situation anymore volatile than she already had. Part of her wanted to try and walk away, but it felt like her feet were glued to the floor.

Unable to make herself do anything else, she reached and rested her hand against him again, fingertips brushing over his scar, the tattoo that it cut through, her palm resting just far enough onto his chest for her to be able to feel how quickly his heart was hammering away in his chest. Her eyes slowly pried away until she was looking at his face again, and she was met with an expression that even though she’d never seen it on him, she knew exactly what it meant.

Nestor saw the way that she opened her mouth to say something, and he didn’t give her the chance to. Before either of them could fully process what was happening, Nestor was up out of his chair, shirt falling to the floor, crowding her back against the edge of the island as his lips crashed into hers.

There was no resistance, like she’d been expecting it, hoping for it. She pushed up into him, her hand sliding up just enough to grip onto his shoulder, nails digging in like a cue to give her more. He had one hand braced against the edge of the counter on either side of her, caging her in. He leaned against her more, the heat radiating off his chest enough to soak through her shirt onto her own skin.

She brought both hands up, resting them on either side of his neck for a moment before allowing them to slide down, fingers splaying as they raked over his chest. She lightly pulled his lip between her teeth as she pulled away. Even when they’d come back up for air, their lips weren’t even an inch apart, each of them able to feel the other’s unsteady breaths.

“Fuck,” the word came out hushed, nearly buried underneath her breath and the music that was still filling the kitchen.

Nestor hesitated, trying to figure out if that reaction was a good one or a bad one. He didn’t move, waiting for some other cue from her about whether he should leave, or whether he should keep going. He knew which of those options he was hoping it’d be.

He was about to ask if she was okay when she slid her hands back up, interlocking them behind his neck so that she could pull him back down into another kiss. Nestor wasted no time in obliging, bringing his hands to the small of her back for a moment before sliding them down over her ass until they were resting on the backs of her thighs. Without pulling his lips off of hers, Nestor lifted her up, hooking her legs around his waist as he set her on the edge of the island.

He brought his hands to the tops of her thighs, digging his fingers into the flesh there enough so that he could pull her closer, tighter, until the only space between his hips and hers were the clothes between them. He felt her lock her legs tighter around him, not allowing either of them space to pull away as his hands crept up her legs.

Nestor pulled his lips off hers only to drag them along her jaw and down onto her neck. He grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin there, feeling the way her nails sank into the exposed skin of his back as he did. She could feel the way his lips curled into the first real smile she’d ever gotten out of him as one of his hands slipped up well past the hem of her shorts, thumb finding the space where her thigh met her hip.

She caught his lips with hers as his hand strayed between her legs. He eagerly swallowed the moan she let out as he pulled her panties to the side, allowing him to feel what he’d done to her. If there had been any hesitation left in his body at all, it was gone the second he felt her grinding against his hand. She more than willingly took whatever he was giving her, one of her hands resting against the back of his head to keep his lips pinned to hers as she tried to pull more and more from him.

When he recoiled the slightest bit, putting just a fraction of distance between them, Erin couldn’t stop the whine that escaped her. Nestor’s eyes bore into hers, tongue running along his bottom lip as he tried to commit the sound to memory. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face as his hands landed on the waistband of her shorts. He was twisting his fingers into the fabric as he took in the hazy look in her eyes, her kiss-swollen lips.

He felt like he was supposed to have something to say, but that’d never been his strong suit. Instead, he gave a slight tug at her waistband, a wordless call for assistance. Bracing her hands against his shoulders, she obliged, lifting her hips off the island just enough to slide her shorts down off of them. She unhooked her legs from around his waist, allowing him to put space between them just enough so that he could slide them off and let them drop to the floor.

His lips were back on hers in a second, hand trailing down over the fabric of her shirt, only to slip underneath it and travel their way back up, calloused hands traveling over the soft skin of her stomach and sides. It was only then that he realized that Erin had some unexplained scars of her own, the ridges and divots of them passing beneath the pads of his fingers. Questions for another night.

He’d been so distracted by his own wandering hands that he almost missed the way that hers were now working at the buckle of his belt. She made quick work of it, not having any issues despite the fact that she was flying blind. Nestor’s breath caught in his throat as she undid the button and zipper of his slacks as well.

Nestor took the cues he’d been given, hands moving to grip onto her hips. She let him guide her forward, precarious on the edge of the counter but she trusted him not to let her drop. The string of raspy curses that Nestor let out as he slid into her made a smirk pull at the edge of her mouth for just a moment before her mouth was back on his again.

Erin had one hand on his shoulder, one wrapped around the edge of the counter to keep herself steady. There was something in the fierceness of his grip, how tightly he kept his hold on her, that almost made Erin want to put up a bit of a fight. She wanted to make him work for it, just because she could. But he felt too good sliding in and out of her to try and make him stop or slow down now. Next time.

Nestor moved one hand, temporarily releasing the bruising grip he had on her hips as he brought his hand up to the side of her face. His hand rested there, thumb dragging along her cheekbone for a moment until she pulled her lips off of his. The softness of the gesture in contrast to everything else had caught her off-guard. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, watching the way she fought to get her composure back, a pointless task if ever there was one.

He lingered, thumb against her chin, lips mere centimeters from hers. He wondered how long he was going to be able to drag the moment out for. However, he’d hardly finished thinking the thought when Erin wrapped her legs tighter around him, pulling him farther into her and putting his lips back against hers in a clumsy, needy kiss.

It was all hands and teeth and shuddered breath as the two of them fought just to see how close they could get. The intensity had caught Erin off-guard coming from someone who never seemed to bat an eye or be enthusiastic about anything. It was almost like he was a completely different man sinking his teeth into the space where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the way his intensity picked up, movements a little more desperate. Her nails raked across his back, trying to anchor herself in the midst of feeling like she was losing herself in him.

It felt like it took more effort than it should to try and untangle herself from around him when it was over. For a minute, neither of them even tried. Nestor let her stay wrapped around him and she let him keep leaning against her and the island beneath her for support. The rise and fall of their chests were drastic, out of sync as Nestor rested his forehead against hers.

Erin’s hands slid down so that her palms were flat against his chest again. She didn’t pull away from him as she felt the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her hand. Once she caught her breath enough, she managed a quiet laugh.

Nestor didn’t even pull away at that, instead he just asked, “What?”

She let the sound of his breathless voice bounce around her brain for a few moments before finally making herself answer. “Not sure what I’m supposed to say to you.”

There was a half-smile on Nestor’s face as he pulled back to be able to look her in the eyes. “That all it took?”

She laughed a little harder, shaking her head at him. “Shut up.” Finally taking her hands off him, she placed them on the counter. “Can I have my underwear now? And my shorts?”

She ran her hands down her face as Nestor readjusted himself and picked her clothes up off the floor. He handed them to her, watching as she shook her head. She pulled them up her legs, managing to just get them over her hips.

“Well, now that we’ve thoroughly disrespected Mike and Emily’s counter,” she said with a laugh as she hopped down, feet landing silently on the floor, “I’m gonna go, you know, shower.”

Nestor looked down at her, noticing the way that she was still pinned between him and the edge of the counter behind her. His face went back to being hard to read as he nodded at her. “Okay.”

“You’re not gonna be, like, fuckin’ weird about this, right?” she asked, not really sure what him being weird about it would even look like.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Good. Reassuring,” there was her usual hint of sarcasm in her voice as she said it. When he didn’t move to let her leave, Erin found her eyes traveling all over him again, the reality sinking in that it might be the first and last time that she got to see him like this. Her gaze finally landed back on his bandaged arm, the thing that got this entire mess started. She touched it lightly with her fingers, noticing the way that he didn’t pull away from her. “So now do I get to know what happened?”

Shaking his head slightly, he moved to the side, allowing her to leave. “Go shower.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was still a smile on her face as she said, “Whatever.”

Just when she was about to walk out of the kitchen, Nestor called after her, “Don’t forget your bat.”

Turning around, she faced him as she kept walking, in the opposite direction. “If you’re here, I apparently don’t need it, so,” she threw her hands up before turning back around and making her way up the stairs.

Nestor shook his head at her as he watched her silently make her way back up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, he swiped his bloodied shirt up off the floor, holding it in his hand as he walked over and, once again, turned her music down. Dragging his free hand down his face, he looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to overthink it. He couldn’t help but to look at the bandage wrapped around his arm, couldn’t stop the tiny hint of a smile that crossed his face as he looked at it, not caring about the mess that was sure to follow.

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