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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ PLEGARIAS ❜

Songfic with ‘Plegarias’ by Nicki Nicole.

English lyrics.

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hey love!😻 You're Creeper request inspire me! So can u write something where Creeper & Reader breaks up when Creeper was transfered to Santo Padre. And when Santo Padre go to Stockton years later, Creeper discovers that even when they breaks up, Reader continue to help the club. And then, they go back together? Just fluff,fluff,fluff,love and again fluff 😍😍😍

BY ANON

Warnings: slight mention of depression, angst and fluff.

Word count: About 1.8k

Aurora says: thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford for her opinion and for helping me! ✨

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

Te encontré plasmado, culpable, deteriorado. Nunca tan amable.

Your eyes traveled from the leather kutte over the bed, to your boyfriend. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, with his head bowed forward and both hands intertwined on his nape. The patches that used to decorate it, now were cutted off, and the new ones were perfectly sewn. You knew exactly what that meant. He just shitted on six years of relationship. You were fourteen when you met him, skipping out of highschool because you were having a bad day and he just made it better, without knowing you. You didn't say anything when you noticed the suitcase behind him, raising his dark and reddened eyes towards you.

Llorando en las iglesias, rogándole a Dios que tenga paciencia, que no se olvide de vos.

He didn't ask you to come with him, because you had a life in Stockton. Your family, your friends, your work, your college. He knew pretty well that you would follow him to the end of times, but he couldn't ask you to fall into hell, just because of him. So Creeper left you there with a pain squeezing your heart that you keep feeling today.

¿Quién mató tu inocencia hoy? Dime dónde está el asesino del cuento.

The first months without knowing anything about him, all that you did was pray. Pray for him like you had never done before. Oscar wasn't allowed to tell you anything else more that he was alive, and that he was close to the Mexicali border. They knew you were suffering, but Creeper asked them to let you continue with your life. But how you could, if he was your life?

Yo voy buscando el final. La historia de hoy, yo te la cuento.

You had to deal with, what doctors called, ‘depression’. But the truth was that every time you closed your eyes, you used to find him smiling at you, telling you how much he loved you. You decided to not sleep, or avoid it as much time possible, so you used to spend the day in bed. Tired, sad, unhappy, feeling miserable.

Until you started to fight, when you understood that he wasn't coming back. You understood why he did what he did, that he just wanted the best for you. And have a life with a wannabe gangster, it wasn't. With Mayans in Stockton, Creeper only took care of simple business, but his new ‘job’ was high-level, dangerous and risky. He couldn't ask you to stay by his side. His love was stronger than drowning you into that shit.

Si voy, calor infernal. Desencuentro fatal. Que ya no te veo…

But you used to tell him: ‘I prefer to die for love, than to die for hate’.

You stopped dreaming with him, even if you kept your promise of praying every night for his soul. Praying to God to not forget him.

Si estás, empieza a gritar. Comienzo a pensar, que ya no te siento.

The pain was disappearing one bite at a time, until you decided to only keep the good things, the good memories of your history. Oscar began to see that you continued coming to the clubhouse, asking less for Creeper, but asking more for the crew. You practically grew up with them, and who was your first love wasn't going to take that away from you too. So the president let you help them with basic stuff; working at the parties, doing the groceries, cooking for them… They considered you like their mom, even if you were much younger than them. You were part of their family, another Mayan morr.

Ay, ay, me duele muy dentro del corazón.

But the pain that you thought you had conquered, was only hidden. And you know that by finding him with his brothers, drinking some beers in the front yard of your club. It's been five years since he left you and, even if you're a woman and not a child anymore, you understand that you are still in love with him, like eleven years ago when you met. Parking your car inside the garage, you step out from it in complete silence, with a box of Jose Cuervo between your arms. Oscar walks towards you, hoping that he has the chance to explain what's going on, but you just smile at him to let him know that everything is okay. You can deal with it.

“They will stay for a couple hours”. He said anyway.

“They're Mayans, I ge—”.

“You are too. Never forget it”.

Nodding in silence, you follow him into the inside, passing them away without saying a single word, until being greeted by your charter with hugs and kisses.

A Dios le rezo, y caigo en los tiempos. Ya no me importa perderme muy dentro.

“Hey, baby girl, Oscar is calling you to the table”.

Medina makes you frown confused. It's the first time in your life that you enter in that Templo while Mayans are reunited. Unless you're bringing them beers. Opening the glass door, you step in. Silence, just a bunch of dark eyes over you, walking with firm steps to the president of your charter. Moving the empty chair by his right side, he urges you to sit down. And you do, with your gaze fixed on his.

“You told me once that you would like to prospect”.

“I did”. You say, curling a leg against your chest, and placing your arm about it.

“In Santo Padre need a new prospect”.

Your orbs travel to the other president, Bishop Losa. Rey de los Mayas. By the look on his face, you know that they're hiding something from your charter, from Oscar. Twisting your neck, you try to figure it out, until he clears his throat because you're making him feel uncomfortable.

“Could you live without me?” Slowly, so slowly, you turn your face to El Oso.

“It's just eight hours away from here, chamaca”.

Te tengo en mi mente todo el tiempo. Todo el tiempo estallo por dentro.

“What are you doing?”

As soon as Stockton charter leaves the Templo, you don't care about the presence of your new family, but Creeper in front of you. He has changed. At least, his look. Wherever you try to find a blank space on his skin, there's another tattoo. Shaved head, black marks under his eyes. The ones that used to shine every day and now look dead.

“Maybe we sh—”. Bishop starts to say, getting up from his chair.

“Sit the fuck down, presidente”. No one is going to fuck with you. Not anymore. “The hell are you playing, Neron?”

“It wasn't our moment”.

Your eyelids widen, with both eyebrows raised up.

“Taking you with me five years ago, it would suppose you were dead today”.

“You didn't have to take me with you, but keep calling, keep texting. You are the one who is dead today”.

“I never stopped loving you”.

“Seriously, gu—”.

“Next time you interrupt us, Mayans gonna have a mute president”. Pointing at Bishop, you give Creeper back your attention. “You destroyed my life. You abandoned me without giving a shit. For what?”

“I paid you for your business here all these years. Your studies, your apartment. And I bought you your bike”.

“No. No, no, no. Mayans did. Oscar. Did”. You reply laughing with a bitter feeling stuck in your throat.

“I have called Oscar every day”.

Y mi corazón se encuentra fatal, que tú ya no me quieres. Esta mierda me va a matar. Que voy por el mundo vacía, pensando en sanar esta herida.

When the men leave the Templo, and Creeper sits in a chair closer to yours, you can't help but break into tears. All the pain that you were fighting against, now is back, seeing how one of his hands hold your right. Feel his touch again, with his fingers getting tangled with yours, is killing you. You can't even look at him. Your gaze is blurred, because of the tears piling up inside your eyes.

“Ain't gonna say that 'am sorry, cause that's bullshit. I just wanted to protect you, but I didn't know that I was pushing you to an emptiness, that was about to end up with your life”. He mutters, trying to keep a firm tone of voice, even if it breaks sometimes. “I tried to do the best for you, without knowing that the best for you is be by my side”.

“Wh—Why now?” You finally ask, licking your bottom lip, raising your head towards him.

“One month ago, in an Arizona run, I was about to die. I was… feeling how I was leaving this world, and I promised to God that if he gave me a second chance… I would come for you”.

Taking off his kutte, the half mexican lifts up his shirt. On his skin there are more tattoos than you can count, but even if you want to focus on the sewn bullet hole over his heart, your attention is on a phrase close to it. “I prefer to die for love, than die for hate”. Under it, your name and the day date you met.

“I have never stopped loving you, (Y/N)”.

Yo voy del infierno al Sol, que vuelvo por ti y sino no lo intento. Búscame, no digas adiós, que solo por ti a Dios le rezo.

His arms surround you, forcing you to sit on his lap as you used to spend the hours. Curling against his chest, Creeper holds you tightly, feeling that warm wrapping your body that begins to melt the cold ice that has your heart captive. Your cry gets loud, sinking your face under his chin. All this time you were hating him for abandoning you, he was just hiding in the shadows, watching over you. His scent floods your lungs, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself. Your fingers get tangled in his shirt, when his lips kiss your forehead so dearly that make disappear all the sadness that was oppressing your chest. He will always have that power in you, as you have in him.

“I love you”. He mutters, feeling how his breath becomes somewhat shaky about to cry too. “Please, come with me”.

Resting his cheek on your head, you cling to his arms, surrounding them with yours the stronger as you can. You don't want him to leave you again. Not a second time.

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