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#angel reyes x you
bumblesimagines · 7 months
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“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”
“i’d tap that.”
“your ass is your best quality.”
Angel Reyes
“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”
“i’d tap that.”
“your ass is your best quality.”
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
reminder that i do have a ko-fi if anyone has ever wanted to tip me!
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"Angel, what do you think of me?" It wasn't everyday you asked Angel Reyes for his opinion, but one disastrous date had left you feeling down and desperate for at least some comfort. Angel blinked at you, lips pressed to the rim of his bottle and brows slowly knitting in question. "Do you think I'm boring? Hopeless and destined for nothing?"
“Who the fuck said that? You’re great.” Angel scoffed and took one last swing of his beer, emptying the bottle completely and shoving it in the direction of the nearest prospect.
"I had a date last night and they said I was boring." You revealed in a mutter, a soft sigh slipping past your lips. Your first date in years and it ended with tears, wine, and ice cream. Angel winced.
"Fuck 'em. They don't know what their missing out on."
"What are they missing out on, Angel? I serve beers to criminals for a living and only have a one bedroom apartment to my name." You groaned and slumped down on the bar, face burying into your forearms. Angel exchanged a glance with the amused yet silent Ez beside him.
"Well, for starters, your ass is your best quality." Ez elbowed his side. "And, you have a great sense of humor. Besides, not everyone can serve beer to a motorcycle club and not piss themselves."
You laughed into your arms and lifted your head with a small smile. "My ass is my best quality."
"Exactly. I'd tap that."
"I'd be flattered but you'd fuck anything that breathes and has a hole, Angel."
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bullet-prooflove · 7 months
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Problem Child: Angel Reyes x Reader
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Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics
Sequel to Valeria
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Ten minutes…
Ten minutes is what you allow yourself to grieve, to cry, to feel all of the emotions that are coursing through your system in the aftermath of the revelation that Angel has a daughter.
It’s agony, this feeling in your chest. You’ve felt it before after your Nana died and you feel it again as you sit in your car outside of Angel’s house. Your chest’s tight, and you think about that baby, left all alone on the porch, the same way you were all those years ago.
Anything could have happened. Someone else could have taken her, the two of you may have decided to go out instead, Angel may have come over to yours. Lord knows how long she could have been out there. These are the thoughts that ramble through your head as you sit there with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.
There is no doubt that the baby is Angel’s. You’ve seen pictures of him as a child and Valeria is the spitting image of him. You wonder where this leaves the two of you, if Skylar genuinely couldn’t cope or if she did this to teach him a lesson.
She’s your problem now… The letter had read.
Barely a couple of weeks old and already labelled a problem.
You think your mother must have said something similar to your Nana when she’d dropped you off.
You wipe the tears away from your cheeks with the back of your hand, before tilting the rearview mirror to face you. You stare back at your reflection and take a deep breath.
You know what you have to do, someone needs to take control because you know right now that Angel isn’t in a condition to do it. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him, you know he’s not going to cope, not on his own. He needs some stability, someone who can remain firm, who can guide him when he falters.
You pick up your phone and thumb through the contacts until you find the name that you’re searching for.
“Felipe. It’s me.” You say when he picks up the phone. “Angel needs you.”
***
You’re not coming back. Angel knows that and it devastates him. It feels like his whole life is crashing down around his head, like he can’t catch a second to breath. He cradles the baby to his chest, his lips brushing over her soft skin. He has to push all of that aside, he has to think about Valeria because she has to be his priority right now.
His gaze comes to rest on his father. Felipe is seated at the kitchen table, the letter from Skylar clasped in his hands as he studies it.
“Lila’s not coming back.” Angel says quietly.
“Give her time.” Felipe says as he sets the letter down. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Angel shakes his head because he knows this is too much. He can’t ask you to take on a baby. The two of you have never talked about kids. He didn’t know if you wanted them or not. He figured there would be plenty of time to figure that out later.
He’s surprised when he hears the key in the lock. You mutter a curse as your hip bumps against the door handle, crossing over the threshold with a bassinet tucked under your arm and several bags filled with God knows what.
“Give Valeria here.” Felipe says, raising to his feet and reaching out for the baby. “Go help her.”
He’s already in motion, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he catches one of the bags just as it slips from your grasp. He takes note of the diapers and formula, before he takes the bassinet from you.
“I managed to get this stuff from Carmen, she keeps a bunch of it aside for new parents who are struggling to make ends meet.” You explain as you haul the other bags with you into the kitchen. “Bishop was there, he had a lot of questions, but I told him you’d call him tomorrow. He seemed to be ok with that.”
Angel doesn’t even know where to begin. The words catch in his throat and there’s an ache in his chest as he looks at you because even now, you’re still taking care of him, not just him but Valeria too.
“I think we have everything we need for tonight.” You say as you set the bags down on the table. “I can get the rest of the stuff on my list when the stores open up in the morning.”
“I thought…”
“I needed a minute.” You tell him quietly. “You know what happened to me, Valeria being dropped off like that…” You don’t have to say anything else. Angel gets it and so does Felipe. “I want to be there for her and for you. I want to be part of this little family.”
“Are you sure?” he asks you quietly, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek.
You nod your head before your arms wrap around his waist and you draw him close. It feels good to have you back in his arms, he finds the gesture reassuring. You’ve always been a port in a storm for him and the fact you’re here right now soothes him more than he would ever admit to anybody else.
“Yea.” You tell Angel, your fingertips toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I want this, I want this with you.”
“Ok Mi Reina.” Angel murmurs as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Let’s do it. Let’s be a family.”
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Handle Him
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Reader
Rating: M
Notes: Just some spice-adjacent thoughts for Angel that popped up this afternoon ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Not beta-read.
Warnings: Cursing; fluff; jealous Reader; fluffy kissy slightly possessive Angel; established relationship; no Y/N; the only physical trait mentioned is that Reader is shorter than Angel (it does not specify by how much)
Summary: You’ve always been on the quieter side. You’re not the type to flaunt your relationship in public. Angel knows. He knows that you’re likely to shy from his kisses around others—to squirm if his hands linger a little longer than usual on certain parts of your body. He respects it. He doesn’t push, or plead, or ply. 
That’s probably half the reason none of these women know about it—or if they’ve heard, the reason that they likely don’t believe it. 
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“You seen Angel tonight?” 
“Fuck yes. He seems wound tight.” 
“Kinda standoffish, too. He barely looked at Melissa when she went over there.”
“He’s barely been lookin’ at anybody lately.” 
“Gimme an hour, girl. We’ll handle him.” 
The insistence is chased with cackling and teasing purrs. You’ve heard this (or conversations like it) for as long as you’ve been hanging around the Mayans clubhouse. It’s nothing new—Angel is a hot commodity. But where those antics used to make you roll your eyes, they make you curl your nails into your palms now. No, Angel hasn’t been looking at anybody around the clubhouse. Angel’s been looking at you and only you for months now. 
You’d been skeptical that he would keep his eyes and his hands to himself at first, but by all accounts, he’s been loyal. It’s only been confirmed by the repeated complaints of the girls around the clubhouse. You could always turn around, throw your truth in their face, but they probably wouldn’t believe it. You’ve always been on the quieter side. You’re not the type to flaunt your relationship in public. Angel knows. He knows that you’re likely to shy from his kisses around others—to squirm if his hands linger a little longer than usual on certain parts of your body. He respects it. He doesn’t push, or plead, or ply. 
That’s probably half the reason none of these women know about it—or if they’ve heard, the reason that they likely don’t believe it. 
But hearing these women talk about him like he’s a prize to be won, like he can be lured into their arms or beds, lights in fire under you the likes of which you’ve never known. You glance over to him just in time to see him draining his beer. You stand, grabbing one of the same from behind the bar and striding over. Your righteous indignation wavers just a little as you pass the gaggle of women planning on handling him. You can feel their gazes following you, but you don’t let that slow you down. Your nerves are lessened as Angel catches your eye—as he gives you a wide smile and passes his cue over to EZ to hold. 
“Saw you go dry,” You hold the fresh beer out to him. 
“Thanks, baby,” He murmurs, taking hold of the bottle. 
“You need anything else?” 
“Nah, I’m alright. You good?” 
“Mhm,” You nod. Then, summoning all of your courage, you reach up. You curl your shaking hands around his cut, reveling in the crinkle of the leather beneath your palms as you draw him down. You only just catch sight of his eyes widening before you close your own, lips pressing to his. You hear the guys whooping around you, and the thud of Angel setting his beer down before his hands smooth over your hips, giving them a squeeze. You grin as he uses his grasp to draw you just a little closer. You can only imagine those women are getting quite the eyeful. You slip a hand from his collar to smooth over the side of his neck, giving him a squeeze before drawing back, gently breaking your kiss. 
Angel gazes down at you with wide, stunned eyes, blinking almost dopily before EZ whacks his arm with the pool cue and a mutter of, “It’s your turn.” 
You step out of Angel’s arms and move over to the short cabinet near the table, pushing yourself to sit on it, beside his beer. You don’t say a word as Angel takes the cue, or as he walks around the table to position his shot. You just smile as he lines it up, and catch his eye as you pick his beer up and teasingly tongue the rim. He spits a curse, just narrowly missing his shot. You smile with true bashfulness, muttering an apology as he walks back to you. 
“One’a the guys put you up to this, huh?” He asks, palming and spreading your thighs to stand between them. “Trying to get me to fuck up the game?” 
“No,” You giggle. “That was an honest mistake.” 
Angel grunts, dipping his head and nosing along your jaw. “That’s honest bullshit.” He presses his face into your neck, and you shiver as he draws in a deep breath, then groans. 
“Always smell so damn good, baby,” He murmurs, beard and lips brushing against your skin. His begins to hands slip up your thighs, then goes still and tense. “This alright?” 
You smile, setting the beer down and curling your arms around his shoulders. 
“Yes,” You reassure, casting an eye toward the women. You can’t help the vindicated smile that curls your lips at their gobsmacked, irritated faces. “More than.” 
Angel nuzzles into your skin, his hands sliding up your thighs. You squeak, face going hot as he slips one of his hands beneath your ass, giving it a squeeze. You eye the pool table, and the guys' growing irritation.
“It’s your turn again,” You warn. 
“Alright.” He draws back, tipping his chin down to look at you. “You gonna keep your hands off’a my beer?” 
“If I must.” 
Angel grins, giving your ass another cheeky squeeze before drawing away. You lean back against the wall, swinging one leg back and forth as you watch the guys play. You make it a point to keep your eyes on them, and not to stray back toward the others—to the women that mistakenly thought that they could handle him. 
--  
“What’s gotten into you tonight?” 
It’s a fair question. You’re a little surprised he’s taken so long to ask it, and you’re incredibly happy that he’s not facing you when he finally does. Angel’s chosen to sit out the last couple of rounds of pool, instead leaning against the cabinet and chilling with you as you watch the others. You’re cuddled up against his back now, arms looped around his shoulders, hands dangling against his chest. You’ve been bracing for the question, but now that he’s asked it, your embarrassment and nerves are beginning to creep up again. 
You press your face into his neck, despite the fact that he can’t see you without twisting or turning. 
“It’s gonna sound petty and stupid,” You mumble sullenly. 
“From you? There’s no way.” 
His insistence warms you. You sigh softly, lifting your chin and resting it on his shoulder again. 
“...Those girls were talking about you. About getting to you.”
“That’s why?” 
“I know,” You groan, leaning back and slouching against the wall, raising your hands to scrub over your face. “I told you: petty and stupid.” 
Angel’s fingers curl around your wrists, giving them a tug and drawing them back from your face. You expect to find him smiling amusedly, but when you get a good look at him, you see a darkness in his eyes that you’re usually only privy to when you’re alone. It turns your insides molten hot. Angel uses his grip on your wrists to draw you closer again, pulling your hands behind his back. You bite your lip as he nudges your nose with his. 
“Is this what you want?” He murmurs. “Wanna show all’a them that I’m yours?” 
You swallow thickly, eyelids fluttering at the brush of his breath against your lips. 
“You wanna show ’em who I belong to?” He eggs on as you squeeze your thighs around his hips. 
“Little bit,” You mumble as your face heating. 
“Just a little bit?” He repeats with a soft chuckle. But he’s not making fun of you—oh, no. He’s just riling you up more. “Maybe you oughta teach them a lesson. What if they forget, hm?” 
You close the distance, kissing him harshly. Angel groans, the buzz of it vibrating against your lips as he lets go of your hands. You suck in a breath as his hands slide around your back, slotting your hips tightly together. You slip your hands up into his hair, weaving the strands through your fingers and giving them a tug. His lips part with the feeling, a heady moan slipping from them. You sweep your tongue into his mouth, swirling it sweetly around his. 
Just minutes ago, this would’ve felt like a gamble. Just a couple of hours ago, this would’ve been inconceivable. Now, you can’t think of anything other than staking your claim on him in front of everybody in that damn clubhouse until there is no question of who he belongs with, and to. 
Angel’s hand sneaks up under the hem of your shirt, fingers spreading across your back. You tip your head to the side, whimpering softly as Angel’s other hand drops to your thigh, hiking it just a little further around him. The tug shifts you even further toward the edge of the cabinet, and you pull in a stunned breath as Angel curls over you, sucking kisses along the side of your neck. You tip your hips down against his, thrilling at the feeling of him hardening in his jeans. You slip a hand between the two of you, palming him and grinning as he growls low, bucking against your hand. 
If you had just a second more, just a touch more boldness, you’d slip your fingers past his waistband—
“Would you two get a room?” Gilly grouses behind Angel. 
“Seriously, bro. We don’t need to see this,” EZ pipes up, whacking his brother on the shoulder. 
Angel straightens up, an almost glazed look in his eyes as his tongue sweeps across his kiss-plumped lips. He takes a step back, gripping your hand and helping you down from the cabinet. You don’t even bother to hide your giddiness as you let him tug you from the room, in full view of the other club members, their old ladies, and the others. You don’t care where you’re going, and frankly, you don’t care. 
Your man has it handled.
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce  ; @thesandbeneathmytoes
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drabbles-mc · 2 months
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Sugar
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol
With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I've ever written for, I'm aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We'll see how far we get!
Prompt: petals
Word Count: 423
A/N: I miss prepping craft projects for my students and somehow we ended up here 😂
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You were sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath the coffee table in your living room while you worked. The television was on but you weren't really paying it any mind as you cut out flower petals from construction paper, preparation for crafts with your students the next day. 
Above the white noise of the television, and the satisfying sound of your scissors gliding through the paper, was the sound of Angel's voice as he vented to you about what had gone down in Templo earlier that afternoon. 
“I swear to god,” he said as he went to the fridge to grab himself a beer, “I wish we were kids so I could dribble his head like a fuckin’ basketball the way I used to.” He popped the cap off the bottle and took a sip. “Bounce that shit right off the floor,” he said as he mimed a dribbling motion with his free hand. He looked over at you. “I think I could still do it.”
You chuckled, shaking your head as you kept your eyes trained on the paper in front of you. “Physically? Yeah, you probably could. But do you really think it'd solve anything?”
“Pfft,” he scoffed as he came and stood by the coffee table, neck craned down so he could watch you work. “Knock some brain cells back into place.”
You shook your head again with a knowing smile. “It's like I tell my students– you get more with sugar than–”
“Than you do with shit,” he finished with a sigh. “I know but I don't think I buy that shit, querida.”
You finally looked up at him. “Salt.”
His brows knit in confusion. “What?”
“You get more with sugar than you do with salt, Angel.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I'm pretty sure–”
You set the scissors down and leaned back slightly. “You think I'd say ‘you get more with sugar than you do with shit’ to my students? My elementary students?”
A smile quirked the end of his mouth. “I mean, it's still true.”
You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't help yourself. With a loving roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to come and sit with you. “Come down here and help me out with this, will you?”
He didn't put up a fight as he plopped down beside you. “Tryin’ to distract me,” he said with a smirk. 
You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his jaw before handing him his own pair of scissors. “Sugar instead of salt.”
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garbinge · 9 months
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Motion Sick
Angel Reyes x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the fic a day challenge with me! Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Fluffy but light angst.
Mayans MC Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705
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It was the middle of the day and you were traveling back home from a club errand with Angel. You might’ve had the day off but Angel didn’t and you figured if you were gonna snag anytime with him alone this was going to be it. Things had been busy between the club and the scrapyard. There wasn’t even a point in asking Angel if the errand he was running was for either because it likely had to do with both. All you knew is Angel had mentioned needing to take a ride to Santa Ana in the morning before he left your house and you met him at the clubhouse and hopped in the passenger seat of the van without any argument on his side. 
Angel didn’t mind the company, if anything he enjoyed it. These days it was rare you two got to do anything together besides roll over and shake the other to shut off the alarm so taking a ride together was like a date on the town for you. 
The ride up was smooth and quick, both of you wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible so that the rest of the day was your own without any responsibilities lingering over your head. The way back was more enjoyable. Angel took the long way back down the Pacific Coast Highway to give some romance to the trip, opting to stop at a whale watching point because he really wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. It was nice, it was something that had been missing between you two lately and this was his way of acknowledging it. 
As you got back on the road you started to fidget in the passenger seat. Finding a comfortable position was making itself hard as you moved around. 
“You alright? You can’t sit still.” Angel looked over at you as you switched to your 4th position in the last minute. 
“Yea, just feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.” You frowned and leaned forward to grab the handle that would easily adjust the seat back in hopes that would help. 
“You think it was the lookout dock? The waves and shit making you sick?” The worry grew in his voice as he slowed down on the highway, taking the opportunity to look at you longer verse the road to get a better understanding about what was going on. 
“I don’t know, I don’t think so. We were on solid foundation not like a dock or anything that was moving. Maybe I’m just getting antsy from the ride.” You brushed off his concern.
“Look, maybe you just need a break, we can stop and get some fuckin’ food or some shit.” Angel was starting to argue with you now, not out of spite, but from a genuine place. “You’re probably just motion sick. We’ve been in this van for a minute.” He had already begun to pull over at whatever food stop was coming up before you could put up a fight but it didn’t stop you from trying. 
“I don’t usually get motion sick,” your hand lifted to wave him off to continue driving until you almost immediately brought it to your mouth, “oh– I think I’m gonna puke.” 
Luckily the car was stationary as you opened the passenger door and vomited out of it. Angel thinking quickly to lean over and pull anything out of the way of your upchucking. 
“Damn querida. I thought you didn’t get motion sick.” He said when you finally stopped and used one of the napkins that was shoved in the side pocket of the car to wipe your mouth off. As he spoke you turned to him and lifted your middle finger which made him laugh. 
“I feel like shit.” You closed your eyes and leaned back in the seat. 
“You need anything? I’ll get the food to go, we can grab a spot in the grass or something, I’m sure we got a blanket somewhere back here.” Angel went into full solution mode. 
“If I sit on any blanket that’s in this van I’ll end up sicker than I am right now.” You let out a chuckle and let your head fall to the left to stare at Angel. He was on edge, you could tell. His arm was on the steering wheel and his body was twisted to look back at you. “Why don’t we find a convenient store, like a CVS or Rite Aid or some shit, I think I’ll get better if I get my hands on a gatorade and some saltines.” 
Angel was moving in seconds, he had put the car in drive and you were about to argue it but he spoke up. “I’m just moving it up a couple feet so you don’t step in your own vomit.” His smiled openly. 
“Angel the angel.” You teased him as you stepped out the van. 
The convenient store was close, it was a matter of minutes before you both entered the air conditioned building that was playing some top 40’s radio station through the speakers. The cold breeze already had you feeling better, the club van didn’t exactly have the best AC for an old overused vehicle. 
“Grab what you want, I’m gonna see if I can get you some of that motion sickness shit from the pharmacy, half the shit on the PCH is behind lock and key.” Angel placed a quick kiss on your head before walking towards the medicine aisle. “Oh and maybe pick up some Listerine or toothpaste!” His whole body turned around as he kept walking backwards with his nose scrunched up. 
That earned him another middle finger and a headshake, although, you knew he was right. Toothpaste and a toothbrush was the first thing you were grabbing on your way to grab the essentials but he didn’t need to be annoying about it. 
As you entered the toiletry aisle your eyes scanned the shelves. Mouthwash was first, and while it was a viable option, you knew brushing your teeth would be a greater benefit for both of you. As your eyes moved to the toothpaste, you saw the travel brush and paste kit and grabbed the first one you saw before walking down the rest of the aisle. You browsed the rest of the aisle, taking your time not wanting to leave the cooled store anytime soon. As you looked around your eyes stopped on a box of tampons. That’s when it hit you like a tons of bricks. The speed at which you took your phone out your backpocket was unmatched, all just for your thoughts to be confirmed by the date displaying on your phone. You were late. 
Without a second thought you grabbed the pink box that was to the right of the pads and tampons and flew to the bathroom. Luckily it was on the opposite side of where the pharmacy was so there was no chance you were going to run into Angel. 
3 minutes was beginning to feel like 3 days with how long it was taking. You had grabbed the digital test, which was likely the more expensive one but at this point you didn’t care. You stood over the sink staring at the flashing lines waiting for words to pop up on it. You could’ve taken the time to brush your teeth but you felt like if you took your eyes off the test, you’d miss something. 
You heard the digital beeping and the words appeared across the screen. 
Pregnant. 
“Holy shit.” 
You weren’t exactly sure how to feel but before you could really even process it, you were stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the aisles for Angel. 
He was in the toy section, gatorade and saltines in one hand and a squishmallow in the other. 
“Hey look! It kinda looks like Sally right? I know it’s a seal but they got the same fuckin’ eyes.” Angel held up the gray stuffed animal and compared it to his little brother’s dog. 
As you walked over to him and said nothing his smile started to fade. 
“You get sick again?” He asked a follow up question. 
Without saying anything you held up the pregnancy test for him to see. It took him a couple seconds to process what you were showing him before he was picking you up in the air in celebration. The squeal that left your mouth was full of shock but the laugh that came after was genuine. Angel was clearly excited about this and that sent a wave of relief through you that let you enjoy this. 
“Alright, alright, put me down you’re gonna make me sick again!” You spoke through another laugh. 
“What happened, I thought you don’t get motion sick.” His voice got deeper as he mocked you and put you down. 
“Yea I don’t, but apparently your kid does.” 
Angel’s smile grew even bigger at that sentence. You leaned over and grabbed the squishmallow from him and made your way to the front of the store to pay for everything you two had gathered up. 
“We gettin’ that?!” Angel lightly jogged to catch up to you. 
“Baby’s first toy?” You squished it against your front in a hug. 
Angel brought you into his side, throwing his arm around you as he left a soft his on the crown of your head. 
“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 
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dallianceangel · 12 days
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𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 💔😭
Here’s another drabble for you, a sad one at that. 💔
💔 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💔
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“It’s him, isn’t it?” Angel asks, feeling physically sick. He knew you and him had reached the end of the road ages ago, but he never imagined the man you’d leave him for would be a fellow Mayan.
“Yes,” you reply, warm tears streaming down your face.
You’re expecting Angel to launch at him, but all he does is turn around and storm out of the clubhouse.
“He’ll never forgive us,” You sigh, hearing him start up his bike before riding away.
Bishop pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against yours.
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juicesgf · 1 month
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You Belong to Me. - Angel Reyes
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He slammed the beer bottle on the bar never taking his eyes off her. She was doing it on purpose he knew she was.
And fuck did he hate it.
💋💋💋💋💋💋
His hands never left my waist as we “danced”
“Your really cute you know” I whispered biting down on his ear lightly
“Oh really?” Ez mumbled his hands roaming further down my body
“I love you Ez but get your hands off her now.” Angel snapped walking over
I turned my head to look at him as a smirk formed on my face “But we’re having fun”
He grabbed my wrist dragging me to the bathroom before quickly slamming the door shut backing me against the sink.
“You think it’s cute acting like a slut?” He questioned sliding his hands up my skirt
“Mm your brother seems to like it”
That’s all it took for the switch in him to flip. His hands went to her shirt ripping it off throwing it to the floor doing the same with her skirt.
“No panties or bra? Fucking whore.” He spat attaching his lips to hers his hands sliding between her legs.
A whimper left her mouth as he pulled away sliding his finger inside her. “This pussy.” He paused picking up his pace his fingers moving faster inside her “Mine.”
He uses his other hand to cup one of her boobs lowering his mouth to suck on one momentarily before pulling away. “These boobs.” he smirked giving the other a soft kiss “Mine.”
“These beautiful lips” He whispered bringing his mouth to hers placing a sloppy kiss before pulling away “Mine.”
He pulled out his fingers from inside her before sucking her juices off his finger. When he finished he cupped her face with his hands forcing her to look at him “You belong to me.” He stated before smirking and leaving the bathroom
“Never forget who you belong to princess” He laughed before closing the door behind him.
I’d genuinely do anything this man told me to.
-hails🧸
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ficnation · 10 months
Text
Chapter 1: The Comfort She Brings
Series: “She”
Word count: 2,1k+
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader; Past! Angel Reyes x Luisa Espina
Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5 episode 7, mayans mc typical warnings
A/n: Gosh, this episode hit me like a fucking truck. I have so many ideas for angsty pieces. This is just the beginning of it. Also this is gonna have a few parts because I just love Angel and lil Maverick.
𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐌.𝐂. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
NEXT CHAPTER
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When Angel comes home that night, holding crying Maverick in his arms, he doesn’t expect to see you there. He steps inside, trying not to panic because Luisa still hasn’t called, and he has that feeling in his gut that tells him something terrible has happened. He looks around, his eyes searching for his woman, but the house is oddly quiet and swallowed by darkness. 
He walks in further, turning the light on, and that’s when his eyes find you, back leaning against the kitchen counter as you cross your arms over your chest. The expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. Luisa isn’t coming back. The woman he loved with all his being, the mother of his little son—she’s gone.
You can’t look him in the eyes, focusing instead on the wailing child in his arms. Angel sees straight through you, though. He sees the broken expression on your face that you try to mask so hard, but you’re unsuccessful. You could always keep your feelings concealed away from everyone but him. That’s the difference between you and him, you are good at lying, at hiding stuff, and he sucks at it—he is an open book, far too easy to read.
The man has no idea how to react. His whole world is burning, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He feels hopeless to the point it almost turns into numbness. Fate has always kicked his ass. Angel knew it was all too good to last forever.
He lets you take Maverick out of his arms, staring as you sway him in your hold, pecking the top of his little head. He backs you against the counter, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face up so that you have no choice but to look at him. 
“Where is she,” he asks, his eyes filled with dread. “Please, just tell me where she is.”
You stay silent for a while, still trying to avoid meeting his gaze. You don’t want to say it out loud because you know if you do it—it’s gonna make it real. Angel trails one of his fingers up and down your jaw, and it makes you falter. “I’m so sorry, Angel,” you mumble out.
His heart drops at your words. He doesn’t have to hear anything else. The man stares into your eyes, a flicker of anger crossing his expression but it vanishes just as quickly as it came. He drops his head, eyes closing as he tries to stop the tears from forming. 
“I’m so fucking sorry,” you repeat like a mantra, and Angel knows he doesn’t have it in him to be mad at you. 
“She—” he starts in a choked voice. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that she’s gone. That she’s not coming back. “She was my whole world…”
You duck under Angel’s arms, stepping away from him. You can’t look at him. You can’t look at him and see the agonizing pain in his eyes. 
“We have a son,” he mumbles out, gazing mindlessly at Maverick’s face, swollen from crying all day. You sway him in your arms, shushing him with a gentle voice. It starts setting in. His son doesn’t have a mother anymore. He’s lost her just like Angel has lost his—taken away from him by somebody’s cruel hands.
He’s quick on his feet as he reaches you again and wraps his arms around you. He rests his cheek on Maverick’s head and listens to him breathe. The boy continues to cry into your shoulder, his tiny fists clenching your shirt. “It’s gonna be okay, sweet boy,” he whispers, kissing his head.
You breathe shakily, trying to keep your emotions in check, but it becomes harder and harder with every passing second—with every word leaving Angel’s mouth and with every weep of the little boy in your hold. The pain of losing her makes your heart clench painfully.
Angel knows how much Luisa meant to you, how much she’s done to keep you safe. She saved your life and helped you escape the people that were after you. She was your family. But now she’s gone, and you can’t do anything to bring her back—you can’t do anything to go back in time and prevent it all from happening.
“It’s my fault.” You can’t keep it in any longer, and the sobs wreck through your whole body. One of your hands reaches out to grasp the back of your friend’s shirt as you rest your forehead against his chest, letting tears spill out your eyes. Maverick cries louder.
“No.” Angel’s voice is soft but stern as he pulls back. He cradles your face in his palms, making you look at him. “I know you’re not the one to blame. It’s not your fault. It’ll never be your fault.” He kisses your forehead, his thumbs tracing over the spot as if trying to soothe you.
“I could’ve done more. I could’ve gone with her. Maybe she’d still be here then.” You close your eyes at Angel’s touch. You expect it to comfort you, but it doesn’t. Not this time. You only feel more guilty as he looks at your bawling face. You should be the one comforting him, not the opposite.
His thumb traces along your jawline as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “You know that’s not true,” he says solemnly, a somber expression spreading across his face. “She made a choice to protect you. To protect Maverick.” He pauses, taking a shaky breath. “She always made her choices based on what was best. For you and for Maverick. She’s always been like that.” You can hear the pure sadness in his voice.
“No, I know I could’ve helped her. If only I came with her—”
“Cariño, you can’t think that. Maybe you could have gone with her, but if you had, the ending for you may have been the same. This was her choice and we have to respect it.”
You can feel his heart beating rapidly as he tries to imagine how it all went down. His eyes fill with tears, he wants to be strong for you and Maverick, but he can’t bear it. He needs someone to ease the pain. 
“We need to stay strong,” you mumble out finally as if reading his thoughts. “For this little guy.” You kiss the baby’s salty cheek, stepping out of Angel’s grasp. You don’t want to mourn in front of Angel; he needs your support just as much as you need his.
Your words snap him out of his trance of despair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 
You let out a deep breath, focusing on the child in your arms. “What’s happening, little boy?” You sway him in your arms, walking up to his crib and placing him inside on the freshly cleaned mattress.
“I think he’s sick.” Angel explains, following your retreating figure with his gaze. 
“Poor baby. Does he have a fever?” you ask, worried, gently pressing your palm against his forehead. It’s a little warmer than it should be, but nothing to be concerned about.
You look over your shoulder at Angel, noticing the bag of medicine that he brought inside when he came home. You walk over and look inside the plastic at the set of different boxes. You choose one of them and open it to find out what’s it for and how to dose it.
“I— I don’t know how much to give him and which one will work. I have no fucking idea,” he says, shrugging his arms hopelessly.
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” You take out the little measuring cup from inside the box and pour the medicine, checking if it’s the correct dosage for his age and weight. “We’ll give him some of this. It should do the trick. Soothe his belly.” 
The man steps closer and places his hand on your back, rubbing it up and down in a comforting way. “You know what you're doing?” he asks just to be sure, but all his concerns disappear when you respond with a low hum.
Angel observes as you walk back to the crib and help Maverick drink it. Your confidence makes him think you’ve done it a thousand times before. He wants to ask about it, but he doesn’t, choosing to wordlessly accept your help for now.
The infant lets you place the edge of the cup against his lips, grimacing at the unpleasant taste. He responds with a sob, trying to stand up, but you hold him back and gently lay him down on the mattress. You know he’s tired; he needs rest after spending the whole day awake with a hurting stomach. When he wakes up, he should be feeling a lot better.
After a few minutes of caressing his head, the baby closes his eyes. You continue delicately running your fingers through his soft short hair, waiting until he’s fallen asleep before you step back.
Finally, the house is quiet. All you can hear is the gentle sounds of the outside world, the birds, the wind, and the occasional cars going by.
You rinse the cup and put it back inside the box, sighing. “Are you gonna be alright?” you ask Angel, looking at him expectantly.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, meeting your eyes. “Maverick needs me. And I need him.”
He moves closer until his forehead touches yours. You can feel his racing heart and the shakiness of his breath. He reaches out, rubbing over the spot on your cheek where the tears had stained it. His thumb draws a line down your face, wiping away the salty streaks.
“Angel, you need to grieve,” you tell him as you notice his eyes wandering toward your lips. You push him away gently. “But not this way.” 
He stops in his tracks. You can see the hurt on his face. That’s the thing you’ve feared, hurting him. The last thing you want is to cause him any more pain than he already feels, but you know it’s for the better. You’d both be filled with regret come tomorrow morning. Pushing him away was the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry... I’m just—” he catches himself before finishing. He leans his back against the counter near you, sighing. For a moment, Angel doesn’t say anything, lost in thought.
 “You’re right. I need to grieve,” he finally agrees with your words. “But I’m so fucking scared.”
“I can stay here if you need me to. But I’m not going to…” you trail off, but he already knows what you mean. “I can’t. We can’t do this.”
Angel takes a deep breath. It’s as if the words you’ve just spoken make him realize just what he’s been thinking about. The thing he thinks will make it all better.
“No... you’re right,” he says. “It wouldn’t be fair.” The man takes a step closer, kneeling down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He hears your breath hitch in your throat as he rubs over your knuckles gently, looking at your hands. The ones that have grasped his shirt tightly as you mourned the loss of your dearest friend—the woman he loved so much.
You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, staying there for a minute, unmoving, before you pull away. “You should get some sleep.”
“Can I hold you for a minute?” he asks softly, but his voice is begging. You’ve already said no to his advances tonight, but he knows that’s all it’ll be. Just one hug—a comforting touch of another human being.
“I just want to hold you,” he whispers.
You think about it for a moment before you nod in agreement. You have no heart to refuse him that. You pull Angel up to his feet and walk him to the bed. The bed he once shared with Luisa. The thought of it makes your heart break even more, but you don’t let it show. 
“Hop in then.”
Angel smiles at you slightly, his eyes full of sadness, but his face lightens by your compassion. He climbs into bed, wrapping his arms around you as you lay down beside him.
“Thank you.” You feel his warmth, heat radiating off his body as he holds you tight. “For being here.”
“Whatever you need, Angel. We’ll figure it out,” you reassure him and yourself, meeting his gaze. 
You feel his arms pull you closer, so close that your heads are resting next to each other on the pillow. You can hear his breath slow down as he closes his eyes, trying to find the sleep he so desperately needs.
“I know…” he murmurs against your cheek.
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ravennaortiz · 5 months
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Day 13: Naughty List
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Summary: Smut with Angel x Reader. 18+
"Good way to get on my naughty list" you stated as your eyes Angel as he walked over your freshly mopped floors with his dirty boots. Angel cringed as he looked behind him at the trail of foot prints. In his defense he hadn't expected you to be mopping at two in the morning. He wasn't about to defend himself though as his mama had taught him better and your pregnancy hormones had you more homicidal than usual.
"I'm sorry mi amor. I'll clean it and get back on your nice list in no time" stated Angel as he reached out for the mop. His eyes trailed over your beautiful body that was encased in a sleep tank, hugging all of your curves."Uh huh. I'm going to bed don't wake me up" you replied as you rolled your eyes as you handed him the mop and trying to ignore the heat of his gaze. Angel chuckled as he mopped he knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long.
*Upstairs*
Angel quickly and quietly showered before joining you in bed. Pulling you closer to him he rubbed his hand over your belly and kissed your exposed shoulder. "Angel" you warned as his hand traveled between your legs. "I wanna apologize" murmured Angel as he nuzzled into your neck breathing in your sweet scent and making you shiver. "Okay" you murmured as his hand moved between your thighs. "Already so wet for me, mi amor" cooed Angel as he slipped one of his long fingers into you making you cry out. Angel smirked into your neck as he pushed another finger into you as he nipped at your tender neck. "Angel" you moaned as your body clenched around him. Pregnancy had made you so sensitive and already you could feel your orgasm start to build. "Not yet" murmured Angel as he removed his fingers making you whine.
Angel lifted your right leg slightly as he slid his rock hard cock between your folds making you jump at the sensation. Angel groaned at the feel of your arousal as he pushed into you slowly from behind. "You feel so good baby" he murmured into your ear as he moved one hand to your throat as he continued to slide into you. "F-Fuck Angel" you moaned as your vision tunneled and pressure built in your lower belly before tipping you over the edge. "More where that came from" groaned Angel as he felt your release coat his aching cock as he started thrusting into you with slow deep strokes as he moved his hand down to your clit. "To--Too much" you moaned as you tried to swat his hand away from your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Stop" ordered Angel gently as he pulled you back and on top of him so he could grab your hands and keep them pinned behind your back.
In this new position Angel was able to thrust up into you at a faster pace and keep you at his mercy as he watched his cock slide in and out of you. The sight of your body swallowing him up never ceased to thrill him and had him pumping his release into you quicker than he had intended. Eyes rolling back in your head you came again as he slammed into you one more time before he let go off your arms and pulled you back down to lay on his chest. "You're back on the nice list" you murmured sleepily after a couple minutes as he rubbed your back. Angel simply smiled and kissed your forehead.
Tag List: @darqchilddaydreamz
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Fury Road - An Angel Reyes/Reader Smut Short.
I dreamed of having car sex with Angel last night, so now you get to enjoy it as well, besties!
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Words - 837
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
“This makes me feel like I’m in high school still, hiding from parents or some shit,” he pants, tongue swirling with yours as his hands tug at your clothes.  
“Yeah,” you gasp, your mouth laying hot, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, yanking his shirt undone and sending the buttons you’re too shaky with arousal to finish undoing flying. “It’s been a while since my ass has seen the backseat of a car.” 
Sometimes, you just can’t wait until home. When Angel has been in charge of the transport, you've pulled over at the side of the highway and had him fuck you against his bike, but tonight, it’s your car that features as the location for two people who never have and never will be able to get enough of one another.  
He’s rough with you in his haste to have you naked beneath him, all fiery longing and impulses driven by need, by the blinding desire to slip into the heaven of your cunt and fuck you senseless, your underwear snapping in his grasp, his fingers stroking over your clit before plunging to take root inside of you, the metal of his thick rings cool at your hot, soaking entrance.  
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fingertips exploring you, circling, nudging until you buck against him, eliciting a whine he kisses away as his mouth meets yours. “Damn, I ain’t even started and you’re this wet?” 
“What can I say?” you purr. “You know I’m a cock hungry whore for you.” Those words mist his senses, his fingers beginning to glide back and forth as he rakes at your tender walls, having you gasping and crying out, unfastening his jeans, needing something much more considerable in size than his fingers. “Need you. Right now.” 
He pushes his jeans and boxers down his hips a little, his cock like a steel post as he grasps it, pushing into you, his teeth sharp at your neck as the velvet hug of your pussy contracts around him. It’s fever-hot and urgent, your bodies undulating together, your thighs tightening on him as your legs draw up and clench around his waist, nails grazing his back as you pant against one another.
What he gives you is all-out sexual brutality, the car beginning to rock, your body sliding back only for the clutch of his powerful hands to keep hauling you back, anchoring you to him, forcing you to take the brunt of his fuck entirely. And that brunt, nothing could feel better. Nothing ever feels better than Angel, fucking you with all the power of a turbo charged jackhammer. Nothing.
His body is an absolute masterpiece to your lust blown eyes, all thick, smooth and tattooed, covered in a sheen of sweat as he rails you mercilessly into the back seat, rising up as much as he’s able and reaching to the soaking mess of your folds, his thumb beginning to stroke at your hardened clit, pleasure shimmering over your spine, the swell skittering over your veins and down to your bones as you wail helplessly, at the mercy of him, not that he shows you even a fraction of that. 
“Look at you, fuck. You’re so fuckin’ hot, split around my dick.” He growls, grasping your legs and hauling them up to rest against your shoulders, bearing his entire weight down into you through his pelvis, making you scream when his cock hits you deep, deep, deep. His groans fill the air between you, his teeth sharp at your neck, marking you with the brandings of a man near out of his sanity with carnal fury. He then slows, each plunge into your soaking centre given in all-in, all-out thrusts, teasing your aching core, chuckling at your frustrated mewl as he pants hard. 
“Angel, please! Fucking give it to me!” you demand, nails raking his arms. 
“But I am, dulce. Just not the way you want it.” He winks, laughing further at your frustration, the circles at your clit rubbed so slowly, lightly and tightly that you almost forget to breathe, his cock popping out again, pausing, arrowing back to your summit as he groans when you flutter strongly around him. He leans forward, kissing your throat before gently clutching your jaw, turning your head to look at him. “Alright, mi amor. I’ll give it to you.” 
And he does. And its utter heaven, the way he arrows into you without even a hint of control, long, hard, barbarous thrusts delighting your entire body, your screams filling the car as lava begins to bubble and pool at the base of your spine, your release set to erupt, his thumb circling at your bud faster.   
His teeth crush at your neck, whispering a string of cusses as his undoing possesses him, like a demon vying for release, your entire body tensing as with fury, longing and fire, you come undone spectacularly beneath him, seeing stars, breathless and sweaty, and oh so very satisfied. You’re unsure you’ll be able to drive without crashing, though. 
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bullet-prooflove · 8 months
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Valeria - Angel Reyes x Reader
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Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics @irishavengersassemble @keyweegirlie
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It’s late when Angel makes it home, later than he intended to be. The house is already lit up and the porch light is on, beckoning him inside. He loves coming home to this, knowing that there’s someone waiting for him, someone who cares about him, who wants to hear about his day. He shuts the front door behind him, bending down to untie the laces of his boots before he toes them off carefully and sets them alongside your smaller ones.
He's been thinking of asking you to move in with him. It’s been almost nine months and he’s more than ready, the only reason he hasn’t done it sooner is because you’re a little skittish. You’ve told him before that you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hopes that you see you don’t have to worry about that with him. That he’s steady, that he wants a place in your life and he’s here to stay.
“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.” he hollers as he treads through the hallway towards the kitchen. He knows you’re probably in there, sitting at the table running through your list of things to do. “We were talking about the food drive this weekend, Bish was worried we wouldn’t have enough bodies…”
He trails off, his hand coming to rest on the door frame as he surveys the sight in front of him.
“I found this on the doorstep.” You tell him, tipping your head towards the car seat and the diaper bag sitting on the kitchen table. “Along with those.”
You’re holding a baby.
She’s tiny, not more than a few weeks old, wrapped up in a white fleece blanket with yellow ducks embroidered into it. There’s a tuft of dark hair sticking out of her head, something that he recognises from his own baby pictures. His heart fucking breaks because he knows, he just knows that this is his baby.
“There’s a note.” You say, swaying from side to side gently as the infant begins to gripe. You hush her and she begins to sooth as you continue with the motion.
He edges towards the table, his fingers picking up the envelop that’s already been torn open. He doesn’t begrudge you that, he would have done the same thing. There’s a letter and a birth certificate tucked inside. He takes them both and smooths them upon the surface of the table along side each other. He studies the birth certificate first.
Her name is Valeria and she’s three weeks old.
His fingertip trails down the paper until he reaches the line where both of the parents are listed. He sees his name scrawled by a registrar along side the word ‘Father’. He puts both of his hands on the back of his head as he breathes the word ‘fuck’.
“Don’t swear in front of the baby.” You murmur, your voice a low, even tone.
“Sorry.” He finds himself saying.
This is so fucking surreal; he can’t wrap his head around it. His gaze strays to the ‘Mother’ column and he sees the name Skylar Rixton listed. Who the fuck…
And then he remembers.
Sky.
The bike bunny he’d fucked a couple of weeks before he met you. She’d been tending bar for a few weeks, a friend of Jess’s. Things had gotten a little wild that night in the Clubhouse, he’d been knocking back tequila trying to drown out the self-loathing that was gnawing at his insides and she’d put herself directly in his path. He’s woken up the next morning with a scratched up back and Sky trying to tempt an encore out of him. He’d stopped it in it’s tracks because he could already see that she was getting attached and Angel didn’t do strings.
She’d taken off a couple of months later after he’d started seeing you.
He read the letter next, and it confirms his suspicions. She’d discovered she was pregnant not long after he’d met you. Decided to raise the kid on her own, then discovered it wasn’t as easy as she thought.
She’s your problem now, the letter said.
“I didn’t know.” He tells you as he raises from his seat at the table.
“It doesn’t matter.” You say, your head tilted away from him.
Your hair falls across your features so he can’t see the expression on your face. He realises that this is the other shoe, that the very thing he promised not to do to you is happening right now and he is powerless to stop it.
“Angel, you need to take you daughter.” You tell him.
Your voice is soft, but he can still hear the hurt in it. It feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest because the last thing he ever wanted was for you to become a casualty of his recklessness.
You’re careful as you hand him the baby. He reacts instinctively, shifting the weight of the tiny infant until she sits comfortably in his arms, her fists flailing just a little.
“You’re alright.” He tells her, his voice kind as he starts to sway. “I’ve got you.”
He doesn’t realise you’ve left until he hears the front door closing behind you. He doesn’t remember you saying anything, only the absence of your presence as he finds himself standing alone in his kitchen with his daughter cradled in his arms. He swallows hard past the ache in his chest, his eyes stinging because he knows he fucked up.
This may be the beginning for him and Valeria but it’s the end of him and you.
Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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Note
Hello! For your impressive fic library celebration, may I please request the following prompt, should you be so inspired "You built me a blanket fort?"
With my darling Angel Reyes
🌻
A Cold Desert Night
Masterlist
Contains: Fluff.
400 words
Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #sp's 150 fanfic celebration for more fics.
Angel helps you enjoy the rarity of a cold desert night.
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There were things that people didn't know about living in the desert, one of them was that when things were just right, when the wind picked up the sand and threw it into the sky so it blocked out the sun, and the night fell early, it got cold.
You feel that chill as you made your way from the car to your front door, wanting nothing more than a hot shower to warm up. Angel was waiting for you the moment you opened the door, a childish smile on his face as he blocked the view to the lounge room with his frame. "Hello, what are you hiding?"
He grinned, wide and filled with mischief. "Nothing, but you can't look at the other room when you walk to the bathroom."
You sighed and threw your hands in the air. "Fine."
He came behind you and placed his hands over your eyes, guiding you until you felt the tiles under your feet. "I'll be waiting outside when you're done."
You shook your head and huffed fondly. "Ok. I can't wait to see what you have planned."
The shower did wonders, chasing away the cold the way a wood fire chases away the snow. True to Angel's word, he was there when you stepped out of the bathroom and he took your hand and walked you into the lounge room, his smile growing wider with each step.
You saw it the moment you rounded the corner, the cosy set up of blankets and pillows, strung together and held up with tables and chairs and what a looked like tent posts from the old broken camping tent. Your heart swelled as his hand found your lower back and you spun to hug him. "You built me a blanket fort?"
He nodded. "I did, Mi Amor. Do you like it?"
"I love it, thank you." you took his hand and went inside, bending down and finally laying amongst the many pillows as Angel threw a blanket over the two of you.
He reached around into a corner and picked up his laptop before snuggling close. "I've already got your favorite you're loaded."
You smiled and rested your head against his shoulder. "Thank you Angel, I love you so much."
He pressed a kiss to your forehead and took a breath as your scent filled the air around him. "I love you too."
Fin
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flightlessangelwings · 6 months
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Ktober 2023 Day 21- Piercings
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Angel Reyes x fem!reader
Word count- 1.6k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), exes to lovers, nipple play, cumming from nipple stimulation, multiple orgasms, fluff, reader has pierced nipples, no use of y/n
Notes- Angel is so much fun to write for! And even if the ending of Mayans was disappointing I still really miss him! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!
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~
It had been so long that you almost forgot what it felt like. The wind in your face, the roar of the motorcycle, the strong torso of Angel Reyes anchoring you as you wrapped your arms around him. There was a time when Angel took you for a ride every weekend, and you went to that special place and ravaged each other for hours before you laid under the stars. But, life got in the way, and you two were separated for some time.
But, now you were back together. And while things were different, some things stayed the same. And you smirked to yourself as you thought about some of the surprises you had in store for him.
“We’re here, baby,” Angel slowed the bike to a stop at the bridge.
You exhaled contently, “Just like old times,” you took his hand and let him lead you over to your spot.
Angel stopped and turned around, looking you up and down as if it were his first time seeing you, “Baby,” he cupped your face, “You look even hotter than last time I saw you.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned into his touch, “So do you, Angel.”
Wasting no time, Angel pulled you in close and pressed his lips against yours. You moaned into you as you parted your lips and invited him in, tasting him for the first time in a long time. He gripped into your hips to yank you against him, as if he couldn’t get your close enough. The smell of his kutte mixed with his cologne was intoxicating, and it sent a pulse right to your core.
“Angel,” you murmured as he kissed his way down your neck, “I missed you.”
He only groaned as he bucked his hips against you, letting you feel how hard he was already. It was all the answer you needed. Angel bit down on the sensitive spot on your neck, licking a sucking before he kissed his way back up and took your lips once more.
Carefully, the two of you back up against the steel railing without breaking away. Angel glanced over a few times to make sure you wouldn’t step in the wrong place, and you trusted him enough to not need to look for yourself. You gasped when your back hit the cold rail, but Angel only deepened the kiss more as your mouth dropped open.
He groaned as he helped you up onto the rail, finding that perfect spot that had a long pole for you to lean against. It was an old bridge, but it was sturdy, and the spot Angel liked to place you had a wider base so you could be comfortable while he stood between your parted legs.
“Shit baby,” he murmured as his hands dipped under your shirt.
You let go of his temporarily so he could lift your shirt up over your head before you clawed at his own shirt, a silent plea for him to take it off. Angel broke away to shrug it off, and you couldn't help the gasp you let out at seeing his bare chest again. You know you were gawking at him as your eyes trailed across all his tattoos and his defined pecs, but at the same time, you couldn’t care less.
“Like what you see, querida?” Angel asked with a cocky smirk.
“Fuck yeah,” you breathed, too in awe to think of a more witty comeback.
You extended your arms for him and he gladly obliged. The two of you crashed your lips together, this time in a more heated and desperate kiss. Hand roamed all over the other, feeling and caressing every dip and curve in the other’s figure. Angel groaned as he reached the back of your bra and tried to unclasp it, but he got quickly frustrated and growled into you.
“Let me,” you giggled softly as you reached back and pinched your bra with one hand and let it fall into your lap.
This time, it was Angel’s turn to gawk. “Are those…” he cleared his throat as his eyes landed right on your breasts, “Are those new?” His cock involuntarily twitched in his pants.
“Like what you see?” you asked with a teasing grin as you shimmied your shoulders, letting your breasts swing as you did so.
What Angel hadn’t seen before was the new-ish piercings you had: both nipples. The metal from the jewelry twinkled in the setting sun, and Angel couldn’t rip his eyes away from them. He had always loved and worshiped your breasts, but this only made you even hotter.
“Oh fuck yeah,” Angel groaned as he grabbed onto your waist and dove into your breasts.
You buried your hands in his hair as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, licking and flicking at the jewelry. Your mouth dropped open to let the moans flow freely as he played with your piercing with his tongue. The sensations were more intensified due to the piercing, and it sent jolt and jolt of pleasure right to your pussy.
“Fuck! Angel!” you cried out as your mind swam in pleasure.
No one made you feel the way Angel did, and having the nipple piercings only added to it. You felt as if you could cum just from his tongue on your breast alone. But, just as you felt a tingle up your spine, he pulled away and looked at you with a glazed over expression.
“Shit baby you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed before he dipped back down and attacked your other breast.
One hand stayed in his hair while the other moved to his shoulder, gripping him hard and digging your nails into his skin. Angel didn’t care though, and it actually spurred him on more. He growled into your breast as he took as much of you into his mouth as he could, flicking and sucking at your nipple while he did so. His one hand kneaded your other breast, gently pinching your nipple piercing, while the other kept a firm grip on your hip to keep you in place.
Your cries echoed through the woods, but you didn’t care. Someone could walk in on you right now and you would tell Angel to keep going. His tongue felt so good on your breasts and his large hands kept you grounded and safe. You dropped your head back as your skin warmed while his tongue ran over your piercing over and over again.
That familiar feeling started to build from deep within you. You rocked your hips against Angel as much as you could, desperate for some friction against your pussy. He got the message right away, and while his lip still stayed on your breast, Angel bucked his clothed cock against your cunt, letting out a groan as he did so.
“Fuck… Angel…” you moaned, “I think I’m gonna cum…”
Angel stopped and broke away, a trail of spit connecting your bodies. He stared at you for a moment in awe, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. “Do it, baby,” his tone was low and dripped with lust, “Fucking cum just from be sucking your fucking gorgeous tits.”
With that, he dove back in, with time with more determination to make you cum. He rocked his hips against yours as he licked and sucked at your nipple, the jewelry rolling in between his lips. His hand squeezed your other breast, and he pinched your nipple a few times, savoring the screams you let out.
“Oh fuck… Angel… Fuck!” your legs trembled on either side of his body as you felt your climax quickly build. Your body felt hot as the sensations become almost overwhelming but in the best way possible. And with just a few more swipes of his tongue and thrusts of his hips, you came hard, “Angel!” you screamed his name as tears fell from your eyes.
Angel held onto you while he worked you through your orgasm. His cock screamed in agony, desperate for his own release, but he was too consumed with you to care. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to lick and kiss and suck everywhere you’d let him. He would make you cum a hundred times before he even thought about himself.
When you let out a whimper and tugged at his hair, Angel finally released your breast. He pulled back and the two of you just stared at each other for several mong moments. Neither of you said anything, you just breathed heavily.
Your gaze dropped down to Angel’s cock for a moment before you looked back up at him. Without a word, you reached for his zipper as you licked your lips involuntarily.
“Wait, baby,” he grabbed your wrist. When you gave him a questioning look, he murmured your name, “We have all night baby,” he purred as he cupped your face, “First, I want fuckin’ do that again.”
The moan you let out was the most sinful sound you had ever made in your life. And Angel spent the entire night raviging and worshiping your body until the sun rose. He couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off your nipple piercings, and it wasn’t until you came several times that he finally let you ride him until he came hard deep inside you.
Collapsing down onto the ground in exhaustion, the two of you panted hard. Sweat lined both your bodies, despite losing the warmth from the sun. Angel pulled you in close, wrapping his hard around you and holding you tight.
“That was a nice surprise, baby,” he murmured, “So fucking hot.”
You laughed softly, “You weren’t so bad yourself, Angel.” you teased, hiding how much you truly cared for him.
His hands roamed lazily across your body until they reached your breasts once more. He cupped them, rolling your piercing in his fingers, pulling a soft whimper from you.
“I can’t get enough of these, baby.”
122 notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 1 year
Text
Better Than Him
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Summary: When your boyfriend bails last-minute on yet another date night, you call the first person you can think of to commiserate with.
Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating, language, alcohol
Word Count: 6.7k (oops)
A/N: Don't ask me how I ended up writing almost 7k of debauchery and filth for Angel. I don't know. I drank some wine and this happened. I feel like it should go without saying, but I'll still say it: don't cheat on your partners, y'all. It's only okay and sexy for fictional people to do. 😂😌
Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @thesandbeneathmytoes @meadowofsinfulthoughts @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @artemiseamoon @justazzi (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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You were laying on your couch in the living room, slouched down so far that you knew it was going to give you neck issues if you stayed in that position for too much longer. Your chin was tucked against your chest by default. The television was playing in the background, the same sitcom on that you’d watched front to back more times than you could count. You weren’t even really listening to it, though. It was just white noise.
Your phone was propped up against your chest, the picture of you and your boyfriend on your home screen doing nothing but mocking you at this point. You exhaled a deep, exasperated sigh as your finger hovered over the Messages app at the bottom of your screen. It was a stupid idea, but you still opened the app. Nothing good was gonna come of it, but you still scrolled down to your text message conversation with Angel.
The last exchange between the two of you had been him inviting you to the clubhouse, and you politely blowing him off because you were going to have date night with your boyfriend. But now your boyfriend was out doing god knows what and you were lying on your couch, all dressed up with no place to go. Your heels mocked you from the floor, same with the hem of your skirt sliding farther up your leg as you crossed and uncrossed them. All the effort and for what?
Despite knowing better, you hit the call button at the top of the screen. You hit speaker on the first ring, not wanting to even put the effort forth at this point to lift and hold the phone to your ear. Sad, sure. Borderline pathetic, maybe. But you weren’t given the time to spiral into your thoughts about it too much.
“You change your mind about the party?” Not even a greeting. Just loud background conversations and Angel getting straight to the point.
“No,” you replied in the loudest mumble you could manage.
“Wait, where are you? Why…why are you calling me?”
“Because I’m bored.”
The noise on the other end of the line decreased drastically, and you could only imagine that it was because Angel stepped outside to finish the phone call. “Thought tonight was date night or whatever?”
“It was.” You hated how bummed you sounded about it.
“Oh, fuck.” He sighed and you could picture the look on his face. “He, god, he fuckin’ bail? Again?”
You groaned. “The again was not needed, Angel.”
“Neither is all his bullshit.” He paused for a beat. “C’mon, dulce, I’ve been tellin’ you for a minute that you don’t need this dude.”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” you argued, but there was no real anger in your voice. Even saying you were annoyed with him was an overreach. You knew he was right.
“What do you wanna hear then, hm?” His voice was right back to its usual slick, flirtatious tone.
You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore how much you enjoyed listening to him talk to you like that. You dragged your hand down your face, knowing that this was your last chance to be smart and get out of the conversation unscathed. But you were sick of being the smart one.
“You wanna come over?”
He laughed. “You want me to leave a party to go come and watch you mope about your shitty boyfriend?”
It got you to smile. “Yea.”
He let out another laugh and you couldn’t help but to picture the way that he was probably shaking his head, looking up at the sky knowing that he was going to say yes but he didn’t want to give you an easy time about it. He never wanted to give you an easy time about anything.
He sucked his teeth. “Fine. Be there in twenty.”
“This is why they call you Angel.”
He chuckled. “Shut up.” He paused. “I’ll see you soon.”
It wasn’t quite enough to pull you up from the inhuman angle you were laying at on the couch, but you did feel a little better knowing that you weren’t going to be spending the whole night by yourself anymore. “See you soon.”
You hadn’t moved a single inch by the time that you heard his motorcycle pulling up outside your apartment. The only thing that had changed was that now your phone was discarded on your coffee table instead of resting against your chest. You turned your head to look at the door but you made no move to get up and greet him.
The door was only halfway open, Angel wasn’t even inside the door yet and you called over, “That took longer than twenty minutes!”
Without missing a beat he pelted a bag of Sour Patch Kids at you, the candy landing just below where your chin was tucked. “Wasn’t gonna try and bring ice cream on the bike. Settled for the next best thing.” He kicked off his boots once he shut and locked your door. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Ice cream doesn’t sound terrible,” you said with a chuckle. You lifted one foot and gestured towards your kitchen. “There’s some in the freezer if you want it.”
Angel rolled his eyes as he walked over, standing alongside the couch right next to you. You looked up at him, his presence more towering than usual as your laid down while he stood. He watched as you tore the corner off the package of your candy.
“You’re not even moping right,” he joked as he reached and pushed on your one knee so it knocked into the other. Neither of you made a comment about the face that it made the hem of your skirt slip up a little higher, but you noticed the way his eyes lingered a beat longer. “Supposed to be curled up in sweatpants and shit after a breakup, aren’t you?”
You tilted your head up to look at him more directly, your chin finally lifting off its resting place on your chest. “Breakup?”
“Yea. You,” he paused , brows coming together, “you broke up with him, right?” Your silence spoke volumes and he couldn’t do anything besides huff and roll his eyes at you. “Come on, you’re fuckin’ kidding me, right?”
“What?” You only sounded defensive because you knew that he was probably about to be right with whatever he was going to say.
“How many times does this guy have to blow you off and treat you like shit before you finally kick him to the curb?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” you said with a shake of your head, not able to look him in the eyes as you ate one of the candies and set the package on the table next to your phone.
“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted.
“Angel!”
“What!” He held his hands out like he was begging you to get up and try something. “How else would you describe it? You’ve,” he scoffed, “you’ve called me stupid for way less.”
“Yea, but I never mean it.”
“Because I’m never being this stupid,” he shot back with a smirk.
Despite your frustration, you found yourself biting back a smile as you rolled your eyes at him. You knew he was right. You should’ve left your boyfriend a long time ago. Consistency with something that wasn’t great felt safer than not having any consistency at all, though.
“Since when are you giving out relationship advice?”
He shrugged with a laugh. “I’m not. I’m givin’ out breakup advice. Dump his ass.”
It got both of you to laugh. For a brief moment, it almost looked like Angel was about to say something else. Instead, though, he turned and headed for your kitchen to grab himself a beer, shedding his kutte along the way. You said sure when he asked if you wanted one too. Even with the television on, you could hear the clattering of the bottlecaps on the countertop. When you heard the slight scraping of the bottles being picked up, clinking against the rings on Angel’s fingers, you finally pushed yourself into a more upright position. You were still somewhat slouched back against the arm of the sofa, but you were at least at a more appropriate angle so you wouldn’t get a permanent kink in your neck.
“Here.” Angel faked like he was going to toss the open bottle to you. You knew that he wouldn’t, but you still flinched to reach and grab it just in case. You hated the laugh that it got out of him, but really you loved it. With one hand free, he tapped your knee lightly. “Quit hogging the couch.”
“It’s my couch, you know,” you said as you pulled your legs in a little closer to you, granting him the space to sit.
“Yea, and you invited me over. So now you gotta share.” He plopped down unceremoniously, immediately putting his feet up on your coffee table.
You were both tuned into the show playing on the television for a couple minutes before you asked, “How was the party?”
He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Could’ve shown up and found out for yourself.”
“I didn’t wanna see people,” you said before taking a sip of your beer.
“Oh? And what am I, then?’ he asked with a laugh.
“You’re Angel,” you replied with no hesitation.
He rolled his eyes but there was no denying the grin that was creeping across his face. “Shut up. Don’t gotta sweet-talk me. I’m already here.”
You both chuckled before falling back into comfortable silence. Part of you felt like you should be saying something more. After all, you did ask him to bail on the clubhouse party to come and hang out with you. But it was so comfortable with him like this. Something about knowing that he would turn his back on something like that just so he could show up and do nothing with you helped soothe your bruised ego. Your boyfriend couldn’t manage to show up for date night, but Angel could bail on an entire room full of his MC brothers and girls who would give just about anything to take him home just so he could show up and watch cheesy sitcoms with you. It stung but at the same time it felt good. You knew that that was all you really needed to know about how you should be handling your relationship, but you didn’t want to think about that. That problem would still be there tomorrow. You’d deal with it then.
In between episodes, you leaned over so you could set your beer bottle on the coffee table. As you settled back into the couch, you stretched your legs out again. You draped them across Angel’s lap, not commenting on the action as you did so. Your eyes were trained on the television, but in your peripheral you could see the way that Angel was looking at you. His eyes slowly raked up the exposed skin of your legs, along the rest of your body until he was looking at your face. He watched you for a minute, and you thought that maybe he was going to make a joke, or push your legs off him. But he didn’t.
He leaned so that he had one elbow propped against the arm of the couch, still holding his nearly-empty bottle of beer in that hand. Without looking back over at you, he brought his other hand to rest against your shin. The metal of his rings felt cool against your skin, and you flinched slightly, but you didn’t pull away or say anything to him. He felt the twitch, and rather than pulling away, he wrapped is fingers a little tighter. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was enough to keep you from pulling away as the warmth from your skin made the metal of his rings more tolerable.
“What were you supposed to be doing tonight, anyway?” Angel asked you out of nowhere.
“Hm?” You pried your eyes away from the television screen to look at him.
“For date night. What were you guys gonna do?”
If someone else had been asking, you would assume that they were just going to rub salt in the wound. And maybe you would’ve thought the same of Angel too, because he could get like that sometimes, but there was something about the pensive look on his face that let you know that that wasn’t the case.
You shrugged as you rested your hands on your stomach. “Nothing crazy. Just dinner and then going somewhere for dancing and drinks.” You paused. “Why?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. Nudging his leg lightly with your foot, you said, “Nosey.”
He laughed but didn’t argue because he knew that you were right. “Can he even dance?”
“Can you?” you shot back with a curious look.
“Pfft,” he laughed, “like I’m ever gonna give you that kind of ammunition.”
You let out a hum of amusement before the conversation died off again. The controlled chaos of the TV show playing in the background was the only noise in the entirety of your apartment. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Angel to be over at your place, for it to just be the two of you. So you wondered why this time you felt like it was the first time the two of you had ever existed in a space alone together. His hand that was steadily creeping up your leg was probably a large part of the root cause, but you couldn’t afford to think about it too much. Give it too much of your mental real estate and you were going to combust.
He didn’t say anything as his fingers began to work in methodical little circles against the muscle of your leg. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Angel was the kind of guy who would voluntarily give a girl a massage, let alone be good at it, but you instantly felt more relaxed as your legs untensed against him. You made a conscious effort to ignore the other feelings bubbling in your chest as he slowly but surely worked his fingers higher up your leg. He wasn’t looking at you, so you weren’t going to look at him. Maybe if it stayed like that, you would be able to keep yourself under control.
His fingers worked through a knot at the top of your calf, and the soft moan that slipped out past your lips was completely involuntary. You immediately froze, not turning to look at him, not saying anything about the sound you’d just made. You were waiting for Angel to say something, make some slick comment, a sexual joke of some kind, but he didn’t. His fingers didn’t stop moving, though, creeping up over your knee and onto your thigh.
You didn’t know how many seconds had passed before you finally decided that it was as safe to look at him as it was ever going to be. You slowly turned your head, your eyes searching for his. You thought that he was already going to be looking at you, waiting to say something. But when you were finally looking at him head-on, his eyes didn’t meet yours. Instead, his gaze was locked onto your legs, eyes slowly raking up the exposed skin, zeroing in like he was trying to see past the fabric of your skirt. It should’ve made you uneasy, should’ve made you want to tell him to get the fuck out of your apartment, but it didn’t.
Taking a slow, deep breath, you forced your body to relax again. The tension started to ebb away, allowing you to melt back into the couch cushions and against Angel. And, if your legs parted a little farther in the process, where was the harm in that.
Even with the television playing in the background, you heard the sharp inhale that he took, his eyes still completely zeroed in on your legs. You found yourself gnawing lightly at your bottom lip, just watching him, studying his reactions to it all. You knew that you definitely shouldn’t have been getting so much enjoyment out of it, but it was too late now.
“You good, Angel?” you asked as you watched his tongue dart across his bottom lip.
He cleared his throat as he nodded, finally dragging his eyes away from your legs so that he was looking at your face. “I’m good.” He paused. “You good?”
You nodded, a satisfied smile creeping across your face before you could stop it. “I’m good.”
There was a long pause, each of you waiting for the other to say something, do something. It felt like a game of chicken but you weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for more, for him to push it farther or for him to pull away completely. Usually you could read him without much of an issue, but this time you really didn’t know what his next move was going to be, if there was going to be one at all.
Then he lifted your legs just slightly. You froze, hating the fact that you were worried that he was going to stand up and leave. You would have no right to ask him to stay, to do any of the things that were currently running through your head. You had a boyfriend for that, supposedly. But he wasn’t here. Angel was.
He didn’t get up to leave, though. Instead, he slid down a little closer to you on the couch before draping your legs over his again. You were smiling before you even knew what you were doing. His hands rested easily on your knees, fingers pressing against you lightly for a moment before sliding up onto your thighs. He applied the same pressure he had before, still not saying anything more as he kept traveling slowly further and further towards the raised hem of your skirt.
When he finally reached it, your breath got caught in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do next. He toyed with the hem of it, sliding the smooth, black fabric between his fingers. You were expecting him to slide his hands completely underneath it, for him to push it the rest of the way up your thighs. You were still holding your breath in anticipation, studying even the slightest shifts in his expression.
So imagine your disappointment when he tugged it down, letting it rest back in its rightful place covering up the majority of your thighs. You felt a little sick to your stomach over the fact that you were disappointed by that at all, but it was too late to take the feeling back now. He didn’t take his hands off of you at least, eyes still traveling up and down your body like he was trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.
“Angel?”
His eyes snapped up to yours. “Yea?”
“Can you keep doing that?” you asked, your tone innocent enough. “Feels good.”
He swallowed hard, seeming shaken for the first time all night. But he nodded, a wordless agreement as he let his fingers press firmly, purposefully against the skin and muscles of your thighs. Your eyes drifted shut, soaking up the sensation, letting yourself get lost in the thoughts that you most definitely shouldn’t have been having. The disappointment of your canceled date night was the furthest thing from your mind now.
You didn’t even flinch when he pushed your skirt back up. Whatever shred of decency he’d been trying to have was tossed out the window the second you asked him to keep touching you like that. He didn’t know why he was tempting fate the way he was but he was too invested now to back down.
You felt him shifting on the couch, but your brain was too deep in other thoughts to really think about what it meant. You vaguely registered the fact that he was closer to you now, able to feel the denim of his jeans against the backs of your thighs. Your eyes were still closed, unable to see the way that he was looking at you like a starved animal who had managed to find itself a good meal. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip as he tried to exercise a little self-restraint. There was so much that he wanted to say to you, do to you, but with every passing second it all felt like it was turning more and more into a sick joke.
He inhaled slowly through his nose, gearing himself up for whatever your reaction was going to be to what he did next. You’d either let him, or he was going to get caught across the cheek with a mean right hand. At this point, he was willing to take the risk because his heart was pounding inside his chest and he couldn’t walk away without knowing.
His hands slipped underneath your skirt, ghosting over the tops of your thighs. You gasped when you felt the tips of his fingers brushing against the lace of your panties, right at the juncture where your legs met your hips. That’s what got you to finally open your eyes. You lifted your head off the arm of the couch, your mouth slightly open as you looked at Angel. You could see the deep rise and fall of his chest, and he could see the way yours was doing the same.
“I can stop,” his voice had a tone that you’d never heard before and it sent a wave of shivers over your body. When you didn’t say anything in response, didn’t make any type of move to encourage or discourage him, he said, “You want me to?”
You shook your head, your voice coming out small in a way you hadn’t intended it to. “No. Don’t…don’t stop.”
With what seemed like an effortless motion, he shifted so that he was kneeling, facing you slotted between your legs. Spreading his hands over your thighs, he pulled you down so your back laid flat against the couch cushions. He pushed your skirt up, exposing your thighs and panties in the same movement. He heard the shuddered breath you let out as his hands continued to run up and down your thighs, studying you as he tried to figure out what his next move was going to be.
“What’re we doin’ here, mi dulce?” he asked, his voice low.
Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, legs already on the brink of shaking when he hadn’t even really touched you yet. “Whatever you want.”
He licked his bottom lip. “You mean that?”
You managed a nod even though your brain was completely muddled with the possibilities of what Angel wanted to do to you. “I do.”
“This,” he said slowly as his hands crept back towards your hips, “is a bad idea.”
“I know,” you admitted. “I don’t care.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, not needing anymore encouragement from you as he looped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and started to pull them down your legs. You lifted your feet off the couch cushion, anything to make it easier for him to get them off of you faster. You were expecting him to toss them aside, but instead he tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. Later, tomorrow, next week, whenever he thought back on whatever this was about to turn into and he was sure it was a dream, he’d have proof that it wasn’t.
Then his hands quickly ran up your shins and thighs again. This time he moved the rest of his body so that he was hovering over you, your legs loosely draping themselves around him as he set one hand on the arm of the sofa, bracing himself above you. His pupils were blown out like you’d never seen them before as his other hand gripped tighter onto your thigh.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped out.
It was the closest you ever got to having an orgasm just from the sound of someone’s voice. You whispered a soft, embarrassingly needy, “Fuck,” as you kept your eyes locked on his.
His hand crept from your thigh until it landed in between your legs. You gasped, biting back a whine as he trailed his fingers along your folds with a featherlight touch. Enough for you to feel him there, but not enough to get what you really wanted.
A smirk painted over his features as he applied just a little more pressure. “If you’re this wet already,” he leaned down so that his lips were right next to your ear, “I don’t know if you can really handle me, querida. I haven’t even started yet.”
The moan that came out of you wasn’t planned, but you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes fluttered for a second as his words washed over you but finally you were able to focus on him again. “Let me try.”
The smile on his face was sinful as he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. Your hands immediately interlocked against the back of his neck, not allowing him the opportunity to pull away now that you had him. You’d thought about what it would be like to kiss Angel more than you cared to admit. It wasn’t something you were exactly proud of, but given the situation you’d put yourself in now, thoughts were the least of your worries.
He tasted like the beer he’d taken from your fridge, like the cigarette he’d probably smoked at the clubhouse before leaving to come and see you. His tongue moving against yours felt like heaven. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip as your fingers slid up and into the short hair above the nape of his neck.
While he was pulling the air from your lungs with the way he was kissing you, his fingers slid up and down your folds, slicking themselves with your wetness and teasing you for just another moment longer before he slowly slid them into you. The moan you let out was something out of Angel’s wildest, wettest dreams. He swallowed the sound eagerly as you kept your lips pressed to his.
You pulled your lips off his only so that you could say his name. It came out like a pant as you pulled him closer to you, moaning quietly into the crook of his neck. His fingers continued to work you over, rendering you an absolute mess as you clawed at his back through the fabric of his shirt.
“How’s that feel?” he murmured against your ear.
You forced your brain to work well enough to string together the words, “So fucking good.”
“How good?” He kissed right below your ear. “Better than him?”
“Angel,” your voice was somewhere between a plea and a warning.
You felt the slight vibration, the hum of his quiet laughter. “You can tell me.”
You gasped as he sped up his rhythm. “Fuck, Angel.”
“C’mon, dulce,” he coaxed, “tell me.” When you didn’t say anything, he stilled his movements, smirking at the whine you let out. “If I’m not doin’ a better job, I can just stop.”
“Don’t stop,” you begged. “You feel s—” your words faltered as he started to move again, “so fucking good.”
He kissed you hard on the lips, his mouth moving hungrily against yours in a vain attempt to distract you from the fact that he was slipping his fingers out of you. You whined against his mouth and the quick laugh he let out would’ve felt insulting if it wasn’t immediately followed by the sound of him unbuckling his jeans.
He pulled away from you, planting his feet back onto the floor just long enough to drop his jeans and boxers to the floor. You were sitting part of the way up, propping yourself on your forearms as you watched him. He was stepping out of the denim that was now in a pile at his feet when he saw you. He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he crawled back on top of you.
“Like what you see?” he asked as he pulled your legs back around his waist.
You hummed in agreement as you slid your hands up his side, your fingers easily finding their way under the ribbed fabric of his tank top. “I’d like it better if I could feel it.”
He let out a breathless laugh as he dropped his face into the crook of your neck. “You’re somethin’ else.”
“You love it,” you mumbled as you tightened your legs around him, desperate to pull him closer and into you.
“Yea,” he moaned as he finally gave in sliding into you, “I really fucking do.”
Whatever you were hoping to say, to taunt him with, instantly fell by the wayside once he was inside of you. There wasn’t a single word or coherent thought in your brain as you wound yourself as tightly around him as you could. Your legs squeezed him tighter, your arms reaching across his back so your nails could dig into him, leaving irrefutable evidence for him to look at the next day.
If you thought that the feeling of him kissing you made your head spin, this was about to send you into the next dimension. You always thought it was so cheesy when people said that it felt like someone was made just for them, but as Angel fought to thrust slowly, to make sure this lasted as long as it could, you couldn’t help but to feel like he really might’ve actually been made for you.
Your eyes were closed, just soaking up the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, his lips and tongue trailing over your neck. If it had been possible, you would’ve dissolved right into him because of how good it all felt. The moans and whimpers he pulled out of you were ungodly, and they only served to spur him on even more.
Then you felt his teeth graze against the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. He didn’t bite down hard, so you let it go without comment, not wanting to interrupt the moment of bliss you were having if you could help it. He thrust into you harder, the moan you let out making your throat vibrate against his lips. He bit down a little harder, almost starting to suck a dark mark into the side of your neck when you pulled one hand from his back so you could plant it on his chest and push him away. Your body tried to fight you on it, but somehow you managed to win against yourself, putting just enough distance between you so that you could pull his lips back to yours.
“Angel,” you kissed him, “don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he pulled his lips away from yours and latched them back onto your neck. It felt like heaven but you knew it was going to be more trouble than it was worth if you didn’t stop him.
“Don’t, don’t leave any,” you stuttered for a moment when he changed his pace—it was almost a successful distraction, “No marks.”
You felt him chuckle against the column of your throat, the ticklish sensation of his beard against your skin. “Why not?” He kissed you. “Don’t want him knowing that someone else out there is giving you what he can’t?”
Trying to get him to show any self-control felt criminal, and also futile. “Yea, something like that.”
“No fun,” he murmured against you.
You had to laugh at that. “Really?” You carded your fingers through his hair as he pushed his hips to meet yours. “’Cause it feels like you’re having plenty of fun.”
Cupping his jaw, you pulled him back up to you and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth. Before your eyes fluttered closed, you saw the way that he relaxed, melting against you as his hands slid down to grip onto your hips. He held you steady as you continued to kiss him, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. He must’ve felt it, too, because he quickly caught your wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the arm of the couch.
The second he pulled his lips off of yours, your phone started to vibrate against the top of the coffee table. You both stilled, Angel leaning to look over and see who was calling. He chuckled as he looked back down at you. “I can answer it, if you want.”
“Don’t,” you sounded so breathless, “Don’t you dare.”
“You don’t want him hearin’ this?” he asked as he moved his hips, pulling another moan out of you.
You shook your head in protest but you couldn’t force anymore words out. Relief coursed through you when Angel dropped his head back down, kissing you hard on the lips before moving back to your next. You knew what he was going to do now that you weren’t going to be able to stop him. At this point you didn’t even care. The moan that came out of you when he sunk his teeth into your neck again let him know that you had no real intention of making him stop. You called out his name as you came undone around him, your legs tightening for a moment before going lax, only staying looped around his waist because of how close he had himself pinned to you.
He ran his tongue over the spot on your neck where his teeth had just been, like he was trying to soothe over the sting. It was the furthest thing from your mind, though, as you slowly started to come down from your high. You felt dizzy from it all as his forehead dropped against your shoulder. All of your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you laid there, stars behind your eyes as Angel eagerly thrust into you. His grip around your wrists tightened, almost bruising as his movements got more intense.
The reality of everything that was happening burst to the forefront of your mind, and it should’ve made you feel badly, but it didn’t. Instead, it sent a second wave of bliss over your body as you wriggled your hands out of his grasp, immediately pulling his lips to yours. He didn’t fight you on it, pushing his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he came inside of you.
He collapsed on top of you, and you could feel the racing beat of his heart as his chest laid pinned to yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to catch his breath. His hands wandered slowly back down to your legs, running over them, pulling warmth from them as they stayed wound around his hips. You let out a hum of contentment as he placed a few lazy kisses to your neck and what he could reach of your shoulder. If you could’ve, you would’ve laid like that all night.
After a few minutes, when both of you got your breathing and heartrates back under control, Angel slowly, carefully pulled out of you. You fought the impulse to whine, not wanting all of it to be over. But you knew that you had no right to be complaining about something being over when it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
He placed a lazy string of kisses down your neck and over your clothed chest before getting himself to sit upright. He reached for his boxers on the floor, lifting his hips up off the couch just long enough to pull them on.
You pushed yourself up just enough to lean back against the arm of the couch. You crossed one leg over the other, pushing your skirt down a little bit like it made any fucking difference at this point.
“Hey,” you lifted your chin a little, waiting for him to look at you, “you good?”
He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “I’m great.”
Your brain was still a little too muddled to be able to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He couldn’t make it easy. “What’re you thinking right now?” You paused. “Are you mad?”
He chuckled, a smile starting to curl the ends of his lips as he replayed everything that had just happened. “Fuck no.” He looked over at you, studying your face for a moment before asking, “How messy is this gonna get?”
“What?”
He motioned back and forth between the two of you. “This. Was this a one-time thing? You gonna finally break up with this dude? What’s the deal?”
And just like that, you came crashing down from your high. You dropped your head back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling as you thought about your answer to his question. “I don’t know.” You dragged your hands down your face. “I know how awful that is.”
“Look,” he reached over, resting one hand on your knee, drumming his fingers, “I don’t give a shit about this guy, or hurting his feelings.” He saw the way you laughed at that. “I don’t. He wants to fuck things up with you? I’ll let him.” He paused, a shit-eating smirk taking over his face as he said, “And I’ll keep fuckin’ you while he’s doing it.”
“Angel!” you chastised him with a laugh.
“I’m serious.” He leaned down, grabbing his jeans so he could start to pull those on too. “I don’t give a fuck about him. But I’ve been tellin’ you, you’re wasting your time.”
“So, what, you think I should just leave him and be with you?”
Angel shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I mean, you should,” he laughed, “but I didn’t say that. Him being a waste of your time has nothing to do with me.”
“Really?” You laughed. “This feels like it has a lot to do with you.”
“Yea, ‘cause I was inside you like, two fuckin’ minutes ago,” he said with a laugh. He stood up, pulling his jeans up and buckling his belt back into place. “You gotta make that choice. I’ll be here, no matter what you end up doing, but,” he raked his fingers back through his hair, “this is your mess to figure out.”
“Why’d you come over, then?”
He shrugged. “I like you. You knew that, though.”
Your voice was quieter than you thought it was going to be as you said, “I know.”
He was about to go grab his boots when he saw the look on your face. “Want me to stay?”
You thought about it for a long moment before finally shaking your head. “I’ll be good. You know, when my legs start working again.”
Angel laughed and shook his head as went to grab his kutte and put his boots back on. You watched him, unable to wipe the smile off your face, or shake the jittery feeling still coursing through your body. You knew that you should feel guilty, and maybe you would in the morning. Or maybe you wouldn’t. It was all a mistake but it certainly didn’t feel like one yet.
He walked back over, standing beside the sofa like he had when he first got to your house. “You sure you’re gonna be good if I go?”
You looked up at him and nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the company.”
He smirked. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”
You rolled your eyes but you could feel your face getting warm. “Goodnight, Angel.”
He laughed, leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. “Night.” He walked back to the door. He was halfway through it when he turned and looked back over his shoulder at you, a smile on his face as he said, “Don’t forget to cover up that hickey.”
You laughed, shaking your head at him as he pulled the door shut behind him. Once again it was just the noise of the television filling your apartment. Reaching up, you lightly pressed your fingers against where Angel’s mark was, already thinking of the best way to cover it up.
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kikijackson-blog · 2 months
Text
Where You At?
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Summary: You and Angel break up.
Warnings:
For Readers 18+ only
Language
Here’s another that I took inspiration from a Lana Del Rey song called Let The Light In. The inspiration was from a single line “at your back door yelling cuz I wanna come in”
Hope you enjoy.
Two weeks. Two long agonizing weeks since you and your boyfriend had broken up. He wasn’t really your boyfriend but it was still a break up of sorts. You counted each day, every hour, every minute, every second, and they all felt like eternity. It may have been partly your fault but he had some blame in this too. Regardless, it didn’t make a difference, the pain was still the same and you miss him terribly. You’d hurt him and you knew it. It wasn’t intentional or malicious, a lack of communication mostly. You hadn’t meant to sleep with other men. Well you had but you hadn't thought of it as cheating. You still thought you were single and just ‘friends’. You had no idea he was wanting more. To be honest you didn’t even know he was your boyfriend, Angel never gave off the girl-friend having kind of vibe. But he was crushed when he saw you at a club that night, your body draped over some random guy, grinding on him with his tongue down your throat and his hand squeezing at your bottom.
The hurt look on his face only lasted a few seconds, it was quickly replaced with another expression, a more dangerous one. Anger. He marched up to you ignoring everyone else in his path, his cold eyes only focused on you and where the son of a bitch had his hand. Angel pulled you off of him.
“Hey man, leave her alone.” Your new friend protested.
“Shut the fuck up,” Angel stepped up to him, their faces only a small breath away. Spit flying out of the Mayans mouth and you could have sworn you saw it land damn near that man’s eye. 
“Ain’t your fuckin’ business.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the club.
“Get in.” He demanded in the parking lot and he unlocked the door and held it open for you. When you hesitated he grabbed your arm and forced you into his car. 
“You know I didn’t believe it when Coco called me and told me you were here giving some dude a lap dance, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at you once he was in the car with you. 
“Un-fuckin-believable.” You’d heard him angry like this before but he’d never used this voice on you before.
“Coco’s got a big mouth!” you had to wanted say to him but figured in such a confined space and driving fast as he was, probably not a good idea to fan the fire. Of course he would tell him. His loyalty was to Angel, not you. You were nothing to him but some chick.
You were damn near out the door as soon as you pull up to your driveway. Not bothering to look back at him but then you didn’t need to look back to know he was following you. You heard his heavy footsteps loud and clear. You make quick work of the lock and get in as fast as you can, opening the door only wide enough so you could slip in and slam the door shut in his face but he didn’t let you. He blocked the door with his foot, preventing you from shutting it. 
“Nah, nah, nah. That ain’t how this is gonna go y/n.” He said as he walked in, overtaking you space with his body, you took several steps back. 
“You’re gonna fuckin’ explain this shit to me.” You avoid looking at his eyes. “You embarrassed me in front of my brothers. Seeing my girl on some other fucker like that, do you know what that feels like? You made me look like a pendejo!”
“Who the fuck was he, anyway?” Angel demanded.
Feeling just a little ashamed of yourself you look down, “I don’t know.”
“That’s not what it looked like to me. No, it looked like you knew him very well.”
“I just met him, Angel!”
“You just met him?” He closed in on you and desperate to keep your distance from him you kept inching away from him until he had you backed up against the wall. There was nowhere to go now.
His face inches away from you. 
“And you let him touch you like that?” The crack in his voice is what caught your attention to something more. 
For the first time since he had caught you with this guy, you looked him in the eyes and reflected in them was the same thing you were now feeling in your heart. And you couldn’t bear to see it. In that moment you would have given everything to make it go away, to replace the storm within his eyes with something warmer and lighter.
“Like you let me touch you?” That one statement, as tiny as it was, said a lot.
“Angel.” You said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“You let him touch what’s mine, y/n! Why?” He sounded like a sweet innocent child asking why his best pet died.
“I didn’t know, I thought we were just friends, I had no idea we… were together.”
“Yeah well you don’t have to worry about that cause we’re not anymore.”
The following couple of days you had tried to reach out to him, hoping that once emotions calmed down the two of you could talk more rationally about this but nothing. He didn’t return any of your calls and your texts were all left on read.
Angel wasn’t doing any better, he sat at the bar all broody like. Some of the guys looked at him and rolled their eyes. Some laughed at how he was acting like a big pouty giant baby, but underneath it they felt his pain. Everyone was just too afraid to address it, but not Coco. He didn’t give a fuck, he was tired of it.
“Man, either talk to her or get over it already.” Coco sat in the seat next to him. Yeah, he’d had enough of Angel’s pity party bullshit. “But whatever you do just fuckin’ do something man.”
The ding of an incoming text made Angel jump from his seat, and Coco nearly choked on his beer. “That her?’ He asked. 
“Angel, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was anything more to you than just some casual fun. If I had known, things would have gone differently. I swear it. Please talk to me.”
Coco stole a quick glance at the text, “Look, it was fucked right, I get it, you don’t wanna see your girl on another man’s lap but she gotta point, how you gonna expect loyalty when you ain’t never did nothing to make her feel like she was more than just a fuck.”
Usually Angel paid no mind to anything his slender crazy-eyed friend had to say but he had his moments. Sometimes he actually made sense.
Angel flew out of his seat and ran out the door.
“Goddamn, finally, fuuuck.” Coco muttered under his breath.
He raced to your house once there he ran up to your doorstep and pounded on the door once, twice, nothing. He heard no sound or movement. Determined and not ready to give up now that he realized how foolish he’d been and how much he still wanted you, there was nothing that was going to stop him now. He ran out to the back and pounded on that door as well. Still he was met with nothing but silence. 
Finally after weeks of radio silence you get a text message from Angel.
“Where r u?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at ur back door yelling.”
“You at my house? Wait, why are you yelling?”
“Cuz I wanna come in! Look I’m sry I was a huge douche. Where r u?”
“I’m at your house, stupid”
“Wait there,baby, plz.”
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garbinge · 8 months
Text
Poorly Healed
Angel Reyes & F!Reader
From these August Prompts: A Poorly Healed Injury
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: Angsty. F!Reader has a kid with Angel.
Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics  @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie
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“I thought you told me that wasn’t bothering you anymore?” Your voice startled Angel. 
He was standing in the kitchen, his hand over his bicep where a bullet had grazed his skin a earlier this week, his face wincing in pain as he applied pressure. But the minute he heard your voice he snapped out of it and turned to you, his face full of shock and you could see the gears in his head turning as he tried to come up with an excuse. 
“Don’t even try.” You took two steps into the kitchen before grabbing his arm and looking at the wound. It was red, while it had started to scab, it didn’t look proper, it looked like it hurt. “Jesus Angel. This shit is infected.” You were mad but more so, you were concerned. 
“Go.” You nodded towards the door in the kitchen that lead to your backyard. “Go sit on the back porch, I have some antibiotics and should have something to sterilize whatever the fuck this turned into.”
He did as you said, moving to your covered back porch, it was dusk out, but the sunset was still offering ample amount of light. The chair he sat on faced the yard which was just plain yard until a forrest full of trees filled it. The sound of the highway that was only a few miles away buzzed as white noise in the background. 
You walked out soon with two medications, antibiotics and pain meds, along with antibiotic cream and alcohol. 
“You don’t care about scarring, right?” You asked him already knowing the answer. Angel might have been a pretty boy but he didn’t care about a scar. 
“It’ll make a good story.” He smiled from ear to ear as he took his shirt off so the wound was fully able to be treated, although a simple sleeve rollup would have sufficed. Again, pretty boy. 
“Good story, huh?” You began to clean the wound with alcohol, patting it with cotton balls and q-tips. “This one time I got shot at and even though it nearly missed my heart, it sure as hell gave my girl a heart attack because the call she got from the MC was Angel’s been shot, get down to the clubhouse.” You mocked the phone call from one of the prospects who called you. 
“To be fair, that was more Bottle’s fault, not mine.” Angel defended himself. 
“It’s more the fact that you got shot, Angel.” You stopped applying the neosporin to look up at him. 
“I know, it was a stupid situation we got put in, it’s not gonna happen again. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Angel rested his other hand on your knee. 
“That’s the thing Angel, I’m always worried.” 
Your eyes were locked on eachother, faces serious now. He knew what you were saying, he agreed, but it was more complicated than that, and you knew it but didn’t want to believe it because if there was a will there was a way. 
“We aren’t kids anymore, Ang.” You inhaled and closed your eyes, softening your voice before opening your eyes to lock with his again. “We’re not 23 looking for the next cheap thrill, the drugs, the partying, the money, it was fun then, but now, its scary– it’s terrifying honestly, not knowing when you’re coming home–if you’re going to come home, we have a kid, Angel. A child. Who looks up to you. You want him to sit at that table? Look what that shit did to Guero. He’s fuckin’ drowning in that emotion, in that regret, that revenge. I’m not even around the way I used to be and I can see that shit.”
“It’s not that easy, querida. I’m trying.” Angel pleaded with you. 
“I need you to try harder.” You picked your hand up and grabbed his face. “We need you to try harder.” You referred to your son. 
He rested his forehead against yours after letting out a deep sigh. 
“I want you to be happy.” He whispered. 
“I am happy. I have a beautiful son, beautiful family, a home, a handsome man,” You added some humor in your voice to those words to make him smile, “I just want the luxury of knowing when you walk out that door the odds of you coming back home are in my favor.” 
“Shouldn’t be a luxury.” Angel’s voice got serious. 
“I know.” You agreed with him and pulled away from him to continue applying the cream to his arm. 
“EZ should have been the one to call you when I got shot.” Angel back tracked to the vague phone call you got from Bottles that day. 
“I shouldn’t have to get that call.” You retorted. 
“I know.” He repeated your words back to you. 
You wrapped his arm with gauze and a bandage. “Take one of each of these, and for the love of God, Angel, let me clean this out everyday.” 
“Deal.” He tapped the bandage before leaning over and putting his hands around your waist to bring you to sit on his lap and stare out into the yard, the sun setting and the light dissipating as the minutes passed. 
“I think we should move to Mexico.” You had your arm around his shoulder but hand tangled in his hair. 
“Mexico, huh?” He started to caress your arm lightly with his fingers. 
“Yea, I think our boy would love it, plus it’d be nice to bring your dad back to his home, even if it's not the same town, it’d still feel more like home than Santo Padre ever did I’m sure.”
“Good luck getting him out of that house.” Angel laughed. 
“You underestimate the powers of a 2 year old little kid.” You smirked and leaned your head on top of Angel’s. 
“He’s there now?” Angel asked where your child was and you hummed to answer him. “I’ll go pick him up.” 
Angel was now standing up getting ready to head out, you were standing now too, soaking in the quick kiss Angel left on your lips before he was walking away. 
“Angel.” You called out to him, a little desperation in your voice. The fear of him not coming home haunting you like it did every time he left the house. 
“It should’ve been EZ.” You repeated the statement from your conversation earlier, it was something Angel said but you never agreed with it then. The fear of him not coming home and getting a call like you did when he was shot was eating you alive and you hoped he saw that without you needing to explain further. 
He turned around, his face looked heartbroken because he knew exactly what was going through your head. 
“I’ll let him know.” 
With that, he nodded and pulled out his phone so you’d know he was calling to tell EZ right now, it wasn’t what you truly wanted. You wanted Angel to tell EZ he was leaving, done with the club, but you’d take this. If you had to deal with the uncertainty of club life, at least you had some comfort knowing if anything happened EZ was going to be the one calling you to break the news, the right way. As if there was a right way to break that kind of news, but based on the past experience, you knew there was definitely a wrong way of doing it and you could breathe easy knowing that’d never happen again. 
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