#guero x reader

[drabbles-mc]

Always Here Anyway

Mayans S5 Spoilers Ahead (no plot spoilers, just a new character)

Guero x F!Reader

Prompt: "I remember the first time we met."

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: There is no real plot here because we know so little about his character. But Guero is my baby boy now and no one can stop me from becoming obsessed with him. 😌

Modified Taglist b/c it's a season 5 fic: @garbinge @withmyteeth @artemiseamoon @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics @ciniluv @thegirlwhowritesfics

(pic is from the Mayans twitter account but I will barter fic for more gifs of this man)

The only sound in your small apartment was coming from the television in your bedroom. It was late enough, or early enough depending on how you wanted to look at it, that the streets outside your place were actually quiet. No cars, no fights, no motorcycles. Light from the lamp across the street barely made it to your bedroom window. The blue light cast off by your TV was enough to illuminate your bed and the wall behind you. It was more than either of you needed at that point.

Guero’s arm was looped around your back, his hand resting comfortably on the bare skin of your thigh. Even beneath the thin top sheet of your bed, you could still feel the extra warmth coming off his palm, seeping into your skin from the pads of his fingers. You smiled to yourself at the easy comfort of it as your cheek rested against his chest. The steady beat of his heart was easier to feel against your face when his kutte and his t-shirt were both discarded on the other side of your room, leaving the two of you skin to skin.

You shifted slightly, just enough so that you could look up at his face. The hand that wasn’t holding you was resting behind his head, elbow bent and jutting out as he rested back against the pillows that were stacked underneath his head and neck. There was enough light from the TV to see the ink that went down the side of his neck. His half-hooded eyes were still trained on the television. Your smile grew a little wider as you watched him fighting to stay awake even though he was clearly exhausted.

He must’ve felt you smile against his chest, because he glanced down at you, eyebrows raised to punctuate a question he hadn’t asked you yet.

“What?” he finally said, a cheesy little grin appearing on his face too as he looked down at you.

You shook your head. Bringing one hand up, you placed your palm on his chest where your cheek had just been before resting your chin on the back of your hand. “Nothing.” You paused. Not that it was what you’d been thinking about before, but you still asked, “You staying over?”

He laughed, pointing towards the window with his hand from underneath the sheet. “I already did. Sun’s gonna be up in a couple hours.”

“Mmm…” you hummed, tilting your head back and forth like you weren’t quite sold on what he was saying. “I think it might be more than a couple.”

He shook his head, letting his fingers drag lightly over the skin of your thigh. “This you saying you want me to go?”

You laughed as you rolled your eyes at him. “I didn’t say that—don’t be dramatic.” You moved your leg so that it was draped over one of his. “You can stay.” You paused for a moment as you laughed. “Might as well clear a drawer out for you at this point.”

Now it was his turn to roll your eyes at you. His feigned annoyance only lasted a second as his childish grin returned. “I didn’t unpack my shit at my own place. You think I’m gonna take the time to unpack it here?”

“You still haven’t unpacked?” you asked with a laugh.

He shrugged, holding his hand out for a moment as if to emphasize his question of, “What? When would I have had the time?”

Your grin softened into a gentler smile. “That’s true. You’re always here anyway.”

“See? That makes it sound like you want me to—”

You cut him off, leveraging yourself against him just enough so that you could catch his lips with your own. You both laughed into the kiss, Guero’s arm winding tighter around you, making it harder for you to pull away, not that you really wanted to. He brought his other hand from behind his head and placed it behind yours instead.

When you finally came up for air, you couldn’t help but to let out a soft, breathless laugh. “I like you staying over. Even if you’re living out of your backpack like a fuckin’ runaway,” you added on with a smirk as he brought his hand to cup the side of your face.

“Want me to move in?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh you barked out at that. “Hold your horses, there, caballero. I didn’t say that either.”

Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. Both your laughter and his drowned out the voices coming from your television for a minute. It wasn’t long until you were settled back almost how you had been before. If anything, you were a little more tangled up now. You felt your eyes starting to grow heavy as some of your attention drifted back to the television. You were only half-watching, half-listening. The other half of you was listening to Guero’s heartbeat, paying attention to the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

Even though you could feel yourself getting more and more drowsy, you didn’t miss the way that he tilted his head so that he was looking down at you. Not moving, you smiled and gave the tiniest shake of your head that you could manage.

“Yes?” you said, sleep creeping into your voice.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“I can feel you staring at me,” you murmured against his chest.

He squeezed you tighter. “’Cause you’re hot.”

You laughed. “Mhm.” You sighed contentedly, settling more against him. “What’re you thinking about?”

He pressed a quick kiss to the edge of your forehead. “You.”

You huffed out a soft chuckle. “Oh, yea?”

“Yea.”

“What about me?”

He lightly squeezed your leg. “You remember the first time we met?” he asked, and you could hear the way he was trying to hold back his own laughter, his voice dramatically wistful. “I remember the first time we met.”

You laughed, opening your eyes all the way and turning to look up at him. “Guero, it was like three weeks ago. I sure hope you remember the first time we met.”

He looked down at you, the charming grin on his face beaming even more than before when you didn’t think that that was possible. He laughed, and you could feel the vibrations throughout his chest as he did. “I do.”

For all his charm, and despite all the nights that he’d been crashing at your place because he refused to unpack and settle into his own apartment, things weren’t all that serious between the two of you. It was new but still comfortable. More than that, though, it was fun. What you had was working for the time being, and neither of you seemed to be in a rush to push it to be anything more than what it was.

“Three weeks and now look at you,” you said with a soft laugh as you kissed his chest before resting the side of your face back against it again, “you’re basically moved in.”

You heard the sound of his head hitting the pillowcase behind him. “One backpack at a time.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans mc fanfic #mayans fx #guero #guero mayans #guero mayans mc #guero x reader #guero x you #mayans mc season 5 #mayans season 5 #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Guero (Mayans MC) Masterlist

Heavenly Sin (Guero/Reader/Angel threesome)

A Wife’s Witness

Fire between Friends

Lost & Found (Guero x OC)

Masterlist

~*~Drabbles & shorts~*~

A Demand for Shakie Shakie’s (dad!Guero/reader)

Breed

Papa didn’t raise no Bitch - Part One Part Two

~*~Prompt requests~*~

“Good with your hands, huh? I think I wanna know more.”

“So, I can’t even take a shower alone any longer, huh?”

“You’re not wearing anything beneath that, are you?”

“If you can’t sleep, I could help with that?”

“Shit, baby. You marked me up good.”

“You ain’t demanding me. I’m the one in charge here.”

“Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”

Three word request - shiver, trace, thunder

Three word request - stirring, back, music

#guero mayans mc #guero fanfiction #guero fanfic #guero smut #guero x female reader #guero x reader #guero x you #mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #manny mayans mc fic

[ravennaortiz]

Okay I'm back again. This time I'm going with Guero. Let's go with prompts 2,11,40, and 30.

Welcome back lovely! You want my sweetie pie Guero and with those prompts? I can work some magic for ya! As always my stories are 18+!

Prompts:

2. I'm not the right man for you

11. I'm not enough for you

40.That hurt/Hurts

30. I need you

Tag List: @keyweegirlie

Mistake

Guero couldn't take his eyes off you as you played pool with Coco, Gilly and Angel. His grip on his beer tightening as he saw Angel's hand brush your hip in passing. His growing anger and jealousy had his vision darkening. I did this to myself he thought as he tried to rationalize and talk himself through this. He had been the one to break up with you. Through text to add insult to injury. Telling you he was not the right man for you and that he wasn't enough for you and never would be.

He had declined your call like a coward not once but all ten times. He knew if he heard the pain in your voice that he would take it back. He knew he needed to protect you and that in order to do that you two could not be together. When you texted asking if he was breaking up with you he had doubled down on being Santo Padres biggest asshole. - Thought you were a smart girl? Basic English to hard? I can do Spanish if you want.- You had left him on read. That had been two months ago.

What Guero had failed to consider was you had been a regular visitor to the clubhouse your whole life. You had been around longer than he had and the guys in the club were your friends first. So for the last sixty days he had seen and or heard you. Your presence was everywhere. Including his house where your stuff was still strewn around. He slept holding a pillow with your hoodie on it because it still smelled like you. He sometimes used your body wash in the shower and he burned your favorite scented candles sometimes to pretend like things were still normal.

Your laugh broke through his thoughts and he glanced up to see Angel with his arm wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your neck. The two of you leaning into the pool table. His voice of reason was trying to tell him he had no right to be mad or jealous. He had been a fool and fools do not get rewarded.

Unfortunately you had always been his voice of reason. The urge to beat pretty boy Angels face to a bloody pulp had him standing up and starting to stalk over to where you all were. He could care less if this got him kicked from the club. He had no right to touch you like that. Before he could swing he made a split second decision to grab your arm.

"That hurts" you yelped as you felt a sharp pain shoot up your arm as Guero pulled you off balance and away from Angel. Guero kicked himself mentally as he loosened his grip but pulling you closer. Ignoring Angel and the others. I need you" he stated his voice urgent as he let his hands travel your curves.

Why the sharp sting and resonating smack that traveled through the clubhouse surprised him he was not sure. Rubbing his burning cheek he turned and met your angry gaze. "I'm not a club whore" you growled before shoving past him, grabbing your jacket and making your way out the door.

"I think you should have said sorry first" stated Gilly as he sipped his beer before going back to the pool table. "Yeah, feeling her up and saying I need you gave the wrong impression" agreed Coco. "She still loves you. I'm annoyed you broke her heart. We don't take to kindly to her being fucked with but I can see if she will give you another chance. This was my fault after all" stated Angel as he used his boot to scuff at the floor looking guilty.

*A little while later*

"Well get to it. My stupid girl brain will get distracted soon" you snapped as you stood across from Guero. Arms crossed and right foot tapping the ground impatiently. Guero grimaced as you through his words back at him.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you and making you feel small. I love you more than you know. I made a mistake. I wanted to protect you and I thought breaking up would do that." confessed Guero as he stepped closer to you clasping his hands together. "Please give me another chance. I am begging you" he pleaded as he dropped to his knees in front of you."I cannot do this life without. I need you" he murmured as he felt tears slip down his cheeks as he reached for your hand.

You took a deep breath as you felt your own tears start to travel down your face. "One mistake is all you get" you stated after a few minutes.

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#ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #guero x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfic #guero mayans #guero mayans fanfiction #guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #fanfiction #imagines

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The New Bartender

Mayans MC Masterlist

Contains: Smut, MFM threesome, fluff, friendly rivalries. No beta read, probably full of mistakes I can't see.

4K words

Out of desperation, Bishop hires a real bartender.

Thank you to @burningtacozombie for the gif.

You looked over the ad, "The pay's alright but I don't think I'm going to gel well here, the poster I picked up didn't exactly say I would be working at a biker clubhouse."

Bishop swallowed and shot a look at Hank; you were the most qualified person they had spoken to all week, and the drinks you had whipped up were to die for, "We realise not putting the location on the ad wasn't the best idea but we're desperate. We can't keep people long and well, we're bikers, we like to drink."

You nodded, "Yep and I've been there and done that, I'm not interested in spending my night being disrespected. At least in a bar, I can get the fucker kicked out."

Hank held up his hands, "If you wanna toss someone, you can. The girls that are left could really use a hand. I promise we're nicer than we look."

You sighed, "Fine, a two week trial, you do sound desperate. But I ain't putting up with any shit and don't think I'm not going to take someone's keys from them."

Bishop smiled and stuck out his hand, "Done, you're hired."

You shook it and sighed before shaking Hank's hand too, "I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting two weeks."

That was two months ago, and aside from a few growing pains and walking out with all the other women in the middle of a party after a particularly rude Mayan took it one step too far, things had been amazing.

"I'll get an old fashioned please." You mixed the drink in a flash and slid it across the bar to Bishop, "Thanks."

You smiled, "Don't mention it. I know I've asked you this before but have you considered broadening your horizons? Maybe try something a little different."

Bishop sighed, "What do you recommend?"

You ran a finger over the liquor bottles, "You ever had a dark and stormy?"

He shrugged, "Probably."

"Ok then, when that's drained, you can give it another go." Bishop walked away with his drink and Guero and Bottles filled the space.

Guero gave you his trademark smirk and you handed him a beer, "What do you want? I know that look."

He chuckled, "Who do you like more, me or Mr Magoo?"

The question seemed to roll off Bottles' back, "I'm not going to answer that."

Bottles smiled, "Nah, we want to know."

You shook your head, "No, and if you keep this up, I'm cutting you both off."

Guero looked you up and down, "That's what we like about you y/n, this take no prisoners attitude is very hot."

You huffed, "You've both made your attraction pretty clear and it's not happening, I'm not going to be your tool to show up the prospect."

"Maybe we're just going to ask you to have a drink with us." Bottles hadn't yet developed the charm that some of the patched members had and if it wasn't so cute, you might have felt sorry for him.

"Come on y/n, I wouldn't be showing him up, we'd be helping the poor boy. You see how shy he is." You rolled your eyes but Guero continued, "All this flirting we've been doing has to go somewhere, just say yes and we'll show you a good time."

There was no denying they were attractive, and if the rumours you heard around the clubhouse were true, they knew what they were doing, "I'm not going to have sex with Bottles because you wanna torment him about it, that's really gross dude."

Bottles smiled, "That's not what it is, he's got a big mouth and I want to prove him wrong."

You blinked, you had no idea where his sudden confidence came from, "What fucking cave did you two crawl out of?"

Guero raised a hand in placation, "It ain't like that, we like you and we want to show you a good time, if you'll let us."

You sighed, "Fine, but no fucking bullshit and this doesn't mean I'm getting passed around." You held up a finger as the smirk grew on Guero's face, "Any fuckin bullshit and I'm putting you both out on your asses, understand?" They both nodded aggressively, "Good, I'll see you at my place tomorrow at six and bring food."

****

You rubbed your face as they fought over the last spring roll, "I swear to shit, cut it in half or I'll eat it." They stopped like little boys caught in the middle of roughhousing and did as you asked, "Thank you."

Bottles shifted in his seat and pushed up his glasses, "Thank you for agreeing to this."

You smiled, "You're both very handsome and I'm hoping to have fun too, it's not a big ask."

The corner of Guero's lip ticked up, "Oh, you're going to have more than fun."

You rolled your eyes, "If you keep bragging, I'm going to think you're overcompensating for something."

"Oh trust me, I'm compensating just the right amount." Sometimes his smug tone made you want to punch him.

Bottles shook his head, "You don't need to worry about that with me, I'm secure."

"You know, it might serve you to be this confident all the time, I like this side of you." He positively beamed at your praise. Guero kicked him under the table and you slapped his chest, "None of that, be nice to him."

Bottles smiled, "Yeah, be nice to me."

Guero's jaw ticked, "You are so in for it Prospect."

You shook your head and stood up, "I'm going to fix up the bedroom, I expect my kitchen to be clean by the time I invite you into my bed." Guero would have taken the chance to make Bottles do it had you not stopped him, "Both of you. You don't want me thinking you're lazy would you?"

Guero shook his head, "I love cleaning."

"Sure you do, you got ten minutes." With that, you headed to the bedroom and left them to rile each other up for the upcoming fun.

At eight minutes, you walked out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen, looking around before smiling, "Great job, shall we?"

Guero slapped Bottles on the back and grinned, "We shall."

You followed them into the bedroom and Guero flopped himself on the chair by the bed while Bottles stood in the middle of the room, "You're not taking part?"

Guero's tongue darted out and licked his lower lip, "I'm alright with watching, I'll step in when he can't do the job right."

You ignored him and stepped closer to Bottles, taking his glasses off his face and handing them to Guero without looking at him. "Are you sure you're alright with this? I don't want you to do anything you're not one hundred percent into."

He laid hands on your cheeks and smiled, "I'm really alright with this, trust me." He leaned in closer and bumped your nose with his, "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded, "Yes, I would like that." His lips were gentle when he pressed them to yours, holding a quiet confidence that made your skin burst out into gooseflesh.

One hand left your face and made its way down your body to unbutton your top before sliding it off your shoulders, "Holy shit."

You could feel Guero eyes on your body as he took in your bare skin, and you broke the kiss, "It's just my back dude."

He chuckled, "Yeah, but I can tell you got a hot bra on, and the Prospect's too busy kissing you to appreciate it."

Sure enough, when you turned back, Bottle's eyes were stuck on your lace covered breast, "It is a nice bra."

You nodded, "Yeah, you wanna take it off me?"

Bottle's hands rushed to remove it as his lips found yours again, "Wow Prospect, I thought you were a virgin but the way that bra came off makes me think we might be alright yet."

You broke the kiss again and shot a look at Guero, "You did crawl out of a cave, virginity isn't real."

Guero chuckled, "Sorry, continue."

Bottles' lips moved to your neck when you turned back this time, that same quiet confidence coming through as his hand moved to your breast to play with your nipple. His hand went to your ribcage and pulled you close as the other moved down to the zipper of your jeans, "Can I?"

You nodded, "Yes please." The zipper came open and a warm hand slid inside before settling over your covered core to cup you through your panties.

"You gonna take her jeans off Prospect? It ain't fair that you're keeping her all of yourself." Again, there was something in Guero's tone that made you want to punch him, he was clearly enjoying the power.

Bottles pushed your panties aside and his fingers grazed your bare flesh, "How about you come over here and do it yourself, I'm busy."

Guero hopped up with a skip in his step and took two long strides over to the middle of the room. His hand were warm as he ran his knuckles up and down your sides, getting lower and lower with each pass before finally going low enough to pull your jeans down your legs, "Did you dress up for us?"

Bottles' calloused fingers finally making direct contact with your clit made it hard to reply, "I think she did, but unlike you, I'm grateful for it."

Guero went to reply, but you mustered your own, "I did it for me, I like nice lingerie. As far as you know, I could have been wearing something like this four nights a week."

Bottles swallowed and flicked his eyes to Guero who smirked, "Our bad, apologise Prospect."

Bottles didn't respond, and your panties went next while he gathered wetness from your entrance before sliding two of his thick fingers inside you. Guero stepped back, flopped on the bed, and pet the spot beside him, "You two wanna join me?"

You whimpered as Bottles pulled his fingers out and stepped backwards towards the bed, sitting on the edge as Bottles stepped between your legs, "You're both overdressed."

You reached out, pulled Bottles' belt free and yanked his jeans down while he removed his shirt and then a bare chest was being pressed against your back and Guero's lips grazing your neck, "Hey, fuck off, it's my turn."

Guero sat back, propped up on the headboard and smirked, "Sorry man, you were just taking forever."

You shook your head in disbelief, "Do I get a say in any of this you fucking troglodytes?"

Bottles suddenly looked very smug, "What do you want?"

You heard Guero's jeans coming off as they waited for your answer, "I want you to fuck me."

Bottles grinned and leaned over, forcing you to lie back, "I can do that."

You made your way up the bed and settled on the pillows and Guero bent over to take you into a kiss. His hand found your cheek and he pulled back while his thumb stroked your skin, "You want me to fuck you too or are you going to make me sit here and watch?"

Eyes got wide as you watched Guero's hand slide down his body to take his dick out, "Holy shit."

Guero chuckled, "That's not an answer."

You blinked, "That thing is fucking huge, what the fuck do you want me to do with it?"

Guero shrugged, "Whatever you want, I'm not fussed."

Bottles tapped your hip gently and drew your attention back to him, "Well you can decide later because I want to make you feel good, can I do that?"

You nodded, "Yes please."

Guero stroked his dick lazily, "So polite, who knew you had such great manners. Did you know about that Prospect?"

Bottles was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive, "She's always sweet to me, it's not my fault you're an asshole."

"Can someone please do something before I have an aneurism?" No reply came from either of them as Bottles made his way all the way up the bed and hovered over you. His lips touched yours, the kissed deeper this time as his free hand rubbed your outer thigh and you placed one hand on his side and the other reached out to grab Guero's cock.

Bottles grabbed your wrist and shook his head, "Don't."

"But I want to." Your tone was far more desperate than you intended

Guero looked for you to Bottles and chuckled, "Yeah Prospect, she wants to. Are you going to deny such a beautiful woman?"

You could see the wheels turning to Bottles head before he let your hand go, "Alright, only because you've been so good."

Guero wrapped his hand over yours and placed it over his dick, moving in a barely there stroke, "Like that yeah?"

You nodded, "Ok." He smiled and leaned back, enjoying the sensation as he watched Bottles' lips return to your skin.

You slid your hand from Bottles' side and removed his boxers and his hard cock sprung free, "Well look at that, the Prospect's packing too. Who knew?"

Bottles chuckled, "Yeah, and unlike you, I know how to use it."

You huffed, "Can someone please fucking do something instead of just bickering, I could have gotten myself off five times by now."

Bottles smiled and nibbled your neck as he made his way to your breast, and Guero's hand wrapped over yours again as he tightened your grip slightly before pulling away once more. Bottles lips wrapped around your nipple as his hand came up to play with the other but Guero slapped it away, "You don't get to have all the fun, I've barely touched her."

Bottles took the chance to take to the hand that was on your breast and place it back between your legs, and you took in a breath as he went right back to where he was before, with his fingers sliding inside you.

Guero's finger moved in broad, teasing circles, his fingertips bearly touching your breasts as he moved closer to your nipple. Bottles, however, was kissing your flesh like it contained the answer to the universe. Before you could relax into the feeling, Bottles was pulling away and kissing down your body to your core.

Guero picked up the slack, his hands becoming more insistent as he had more room to work, and Bottles' fingertips crooked upwards to brush your G-spot as he used his other hand to lift your legs over his shoulders. He lifted his head and made eye contact with you before giving you a soft smile, "Can I?"

You nodded and wove your hand into his hair, "Please." His lips sealed around your clit and Guero shuffled down so he was lying next to you before taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss. Guero swallowed your moans as Bottles worked you closer to the edge, all the teasing and stopping finally catching up with you as the orgasm rushed towards you like an oncoming train.

You bit down on Guero's pillowy lower lip and he let out a feral grunt as your hand tightened around his cock. You pushed Bottles head closer and ground yourself on his face as your clenched around his fingers and Guero broke the kiss to watch as pleasure overtook your body, "Fuck, that's so fucking hot."

Bottles pulled back and wiped his face with his palm and kissed back up your body, taking your chin in between his fingers and pulling your head away from Guero and towards him as he took you into a kiss. Guero's breath caught in his throat, but before you could act on it, Bottles grabbed both your wrists and pressed them into the pillow by your head, "Keep them there."

Guero was taken aback but recovered quickly, "I was going to complain but this might be better than the handjob."

Bottles removed his hands from your wrists and slid them down your body and bent your knees so he could slot himself in the space between them, "Condoms?"

"Top drawer." Guero twisted himself around and reached over, rifling through the drawer with a smile before pausing to look at something.

A smirk grew on his face as he pulled out a bullet vibe, "What's this?"

He and Bottles shared a look but you shook your head, "Next time."

"Alright, next time it is." Guero shot Bottles a pointed look and when he stayed quiet, the box of condoms was lobbed at his head, "You got something stuck in your throat? She's saying there's going to be a next time."

Bottles' brain caught up with his dick because he was grinning, "Hell yeah, I can't wait."

He picked the condoms up from where they had landed and pulled one out of the packet before opening it and sliding it over his cock. His hands ran up and down your legs as you threw them over his waist and he rubbed his cock up and down your slit and looked into your eyes in a request for permission, "Please."

He slid inside you slowly, biting back his moan as he bottomed out. Guero rested his hand on your cheek and turned your head towards him for another kiss as his hand returned to his dick. Bottles rocked his hips slowly, working up to a steady pace as he held himself above you on his elbows.

You pulled your hands off the pillow and wrapped them around his body, Bottles making no move to stop you as his hips picked up speed. Beside you, Guero tutted and slapped Bottles' shoulder before pushing him slightly, "Have you forgotten something man?"

Bottles hips barely slowed as he shook his head and Guero rearranged himself so he could slide his hand between your bodies to rub your clit, "The fucking basics man."

It took a few thrusts for them to get the rhythm but before long, the sensations overwhelmed you, "I didn't fucking forget man."

Guero smirked, "Ah I see, if you can't handle it I can take over."

"No, please don't stop." That only spurred Bottles on as he picked up speed, and then he was the one batting Guero's hand away as he took over. There was more light shoving as Guero pressed his lips to yours, and Bottles kissed your neck, giving you no time to warn with as the second orgasm swept over you.

Bottles' pace faltered, and they swapped places as he climbed his own high. Through the haze of pleasure, you were vaguely aware that Guero was nibbling bruises into your neck, but before you could protest, Bottles' breath shuddered, and he pulsed inside you.

Your hips twitched as Bottles pulled out and rolled off you with a chuckle, "Sorry."

Guero huffed, "He's not sorry, look at him." He rolled you over onto your side facing him and took your head in his hands, "Don't worry y/n, I'll be nicer to you."

Bottles settled behind you with his chest pressed against your back and ran his hands up and down your body while he pressed his lips to your upper back, "Do you believe him?"

Guero was brushing your sweat stuck hair from your face with a gentle smile, "I do."

There was a rush to find the condoms and Guero paused like he was deep in thought as he held the little square package, "What is it?"

He smiled, "I'm thinking about whether I should go down on you first, it's no fair that the Prospect gets all the fun."

You thought for a moment, "I think that might be a bit too much, my brain feels like it's swimming in maple syrup."

Guero smiled, "Maple syrup, are you a secret Canadian?"

You shook your head, "No, I was worried if I said chocolate syrup you'd leave us to get a hot fudge parfait."

Guero chuckled and pecked your cheek, "I wouldn't dream of it and that's alright, I'm happy to skip to the main event." He rolled the condom down his dick and lifted your leg over his hip before running his cock up and down your slit, "You wanna keep going? You don't need to say yes, we can do something else if you're done."

You smiled, "No, I want to keep going."

Bottles chuckled behind you and reached over to shove Guero lightly, "Who's denying the beautiful woman now?"

Guero snorted, "Hey, I'm being a gentleman." He sighed and his lips met yours as he began a slow, steady slide inside you. He paused for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his ample size before slowly rocking his hips, "You good?" His voice was tightly, clearly feeling the outcome of his own delayed pleasure.

You nodded, "Yep."

Bottles pulled you away from Guero and you twisted towards him like a pretzel so he could kiss you while Guero's hips picked up speed, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Guero exhaled sharply, "You wanna say that again?" Guero's fingers found your clit in an instant and he flashed a grin at Bottles, "I don't forget." He rolled his hips into you and Bottles swallowed your gasp as Guero brushed your G-spot with each forceful stroke.

Your breath caught in your throat and Bottle's lips turned gentle on yours, the mix of rough and gentle intensifying the sensations even. Bottles didn't let you pull your lips away to warn Guero of your oncoming release and you swore you could hear something break in his brain as you clenched around him, "Fucking fuck."

Guero yanked you away from Bottles and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that left your head spinning as he followed behind you, taking his hand from your clit and gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

Guero rolled away from you and you flopped onto your back, unable to move much more without rolling onto Bottles, "Fuck that was amazing."

Guero chuckled, "You said it Prospect."

You sighed and pushed yourself up, "I really need to go have a shower, I'm all sweaty."

Bottles followed, looking helpful as always, "We can join you, I had a look at your shower and it will fit all three of us."

Guero shook his head, "What are you talking about Prospect, I'm going to help y/n clean up and you're going to change the sheets."

You crossed your arms over your chest, "Nope, I'm going to shower all by myself and you're both going to change the sheets, they're in the drawers under the bed and there are spare pillows in the cupboard." Guero glared at Bottles and you held up a finger, "No fighting or you'll be sleeping on the porch."

Bottles eyes went wide, "I wasn't fighting, it's all him."

You shook your head and turned on your heel, "Don't think I can't see how you rile him up. I'll be out in ten, that should be enough time."

Thankfully, when you came out of the bathroom, there were fresh sheets on the bed and they were getting along. They took turns in the bathroom and Bottles was thoughtful enough to bring you a glass of water while Guero glared at him.

You stretched and yawned then climbed into bed, Geruo and Bottles following after you, "So, who do you like more, me or Bottles?"

You shook your head, "I like you both equally now can I please get some sleep, I'm worn out."

Bottles chuckled, "That's my plan but I get the feeling that he's going to want to talk."

Guero reached over you and shoved him, "Do not, I know when to shut up, unlike you."

You huffed and climbed over Guero to turn off the lamp, "Goodnight, both of you."

They got the message because they arranged themselves so they could touch you, with all your legs entangled in a mess, while placing their arms strategically over you. Guero pressed his lips to your temple, "Goodnight y/n."

Bottles went next with his lips falling on your cheek, "Goodnight, thank you for tonight."

Guero kicked him softly, "Show off."

Fin

Y'all want this to become a thing? I'm not above making this a thing, where's there's I love yous and non sexual cuddling.

#mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #guero smut #guero fanfic #guero fanfiction #guero #guero mayans mc #bottles #bottles mayans #bottles mayans mc #alex barone #andrew jacobs #guero x reader #bottles x reader #guero x reader x bottles

[cloveroctobers]

GUERO — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: yeah there’s no way you thought I wouldn’t right? I have a type 🤫 & since I’m divorced from angel and SICK of EZ’s ass (the way they scrambled his character is not it) + have a slight crush on Hank I basically just decided to take my pick and I don’t think Guero’s a bad choice—hopefully he doesn’t fuck that up lol. Listen to me being delusional but you kinda have to be even if it’s just a little bit when writing no?

WARNINGS: nothing but short fluff for my new man — with a hint of chaos!

PROMPTS from this list & this one too: 1.) “I’m so hot.” “Loving the confidence.” “Shut up.” + 2.) Ice cream dates.

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It’s early when Guero almost jumps out of your shared bed. He’s the type of man that can sleep through anything if you let him and it takes minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dim bedroom. He almost flinches when his brown hues settle on the thin gold curtains, specs of light threatening to fully break through with their beams from the outside.

He yawns, stretching his long ink covered limbs above his head, glancing to his left to notice that you’re not there like you should be. A frown erupts between his brows, his leg brushing over the sheets to feel they’re cool—almost to the point it feels damp?

Instantly he’s pushing himself into a sitting position, stuffing the palms of his large hands into his eye sockets to push the grogginess away. Giving himself a few moments, he glances at the fancy new modern alarm clock, which happened to be a careless purchase on your part, that’s illuminated in white, blurting that it’s 6:51AM.

You were always a early riser but not this damn early. Now he’s in a search of you, feet shuffling against the dark wooden floor as he tosses the bedroom door back. The hallway is also dim as he begins to make his way down by the bathroom on his left-hand side.

It’s not like it takes him long to find you, eyeing the top part of the fridge wide open, the front of it blocking the top half of you. You don’t notice him as he squeezes his way around to stand behind you, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips as you stand on your tippy toes, face buried into the freezer.

“I’m so hot.” He hears you say, voice muffled while he leans against the counter that contains the kitchen sink.

“I’m loving the confidence.”

The way his voice booms, makes you smack your head against the top of the freezer, making him snort as you settle back onto your feet, now holding your head as you glare at the taller man.

“Shut up,” you rubbed at the back of your head, “the hell are you doing sneaking up on me? sounding like Morgan freeman and shit?”

Guero lightly laughs, “my apologies babe. I thought you said you liked my morning voice?”

“Not when it’s quiet and I’m trying to have some peace.”

“…In the freezer?” Guero questioned with a frown on his face, as he briefly runs a hand through his bed-hair.

You huff, turning back around to stick your head back into the freezer, hands feeling around the space until you find exactly what you need.

Guero’s rushing over to you now, reaching to snatch the carton of ice cream that you just plucked the top off of, “oh hell no,” he responds as it’s your turn to frown at him.

Immediately you’re putting your back to the tatted man, his frame colliding with yours as you scuffle over the ice cream carton, “get your own!”

“What do you mean? That is mine! You don’t even like peanuts in your hot fudge sundaes.”

You didn’t even rock with sundaes like that in the first place to be honest…but the point still stands.

“Mind your business, Guero.”

“Sorry, last I checked, You are my business.” Guero argued as you peered up at him.

Normally that would make you weak in the knees but at this current moment, in your aggravation? It wasn’t going to fly. Smiling evilly at the man, you stuck your tongue out and swiped it right across the top of the ice cream, letting out a sigh in content as Guero scrunched up his nose.

Now here he was, waking up at the crack of ass, in search of his loving partner of two years that moved with him to santo padre in this updated mobile home, thanks to her contractor dad who had his own business and did plenty work around the golf course in the area, wondering if their well-being was in tact since they had a common case of insomnia from time to time, just to stand here now; with them disrespecting him by licking his favorite ice cream (and not off his body).

“Oh, you’re done for now.” Guero voiced as the both you were now in a battle for the ice cream.

Laughing to yourself, you went to do the same action again but the smack of the carton from your hands was almost like slow motion. Before you could even scrabble to attempt to save the ice cream, it toppled straight to the floor with a loud splat. A brief silence filled the small home as the both of you stared at each other, Guero quirking up a brow, tatted thin but muscular arms raised, quietly asking with his facial expression, what you’re gonna do about it now.

With your hands around his neck and him swinging you around, it was about to turn into WWE up in this bitch. The round only lasted for maybe about ten minutes, the both of you playfully wrestling and talking shit to each other as you stumbled into the living room.

Your arms had Guero’s tree sized ass in a headlock as you yelled, “why would you do that when you know I’m over here sweating my behind off?!”

“One, you didn’t ask and two, just turn the fucken AC on then!” Guero yelled back, arms locking around your waist as he used his weight to shove you onto the floor, but not without using one of his hands to protect the back of your head.

We didn’t need another repeat of the accidental concussion he gave you the last time the both of you wrestled.

“You’re the one who said we need to start saving money, paying $643 a month for just the mortgage alone with both of our shitty salaries and the ceiling fans weren’t doing shit!” You wrapped your legs around his hips while he gripped your wrists back over your head to keep from slapping him.

This was a old but still a fresh story, considering the both of you debated over this maybe two weeks ago? Before the both of you fell into the same routine of trying to make ends meet. The both of you were still young in your mid-to late twenties and didn’t live together back in Tucson but decided to when it came to this new destination.

Guero was grateful that you were locked in with this relationship, since he’s never had a serious partnership before you and he wasn’t down to do long-distance but he also really wasn’t down to fall in love with anybody else either. Back in Arizona you were in school working some shitty minimum wage job at a home improvement store, while he tended to a declining club with his late father…so you do the math.

Now in Santo padre, it was supposed to be a fresh start and money wasn’t discussed much between you two back then since the both of you like to keep it to yourselves. That quickly changed now living together, since it unofficially put a stamp on the potential of making this a forever thing. You were now involved in a unpaid internship while attempting to do some remote part-time job for income and Guero? Let’s just say the new distribution of a deadly thing that starts with the letter “F” was worth something nice!

You didn’t need to know the details though.

“I don’t mind you a little sweaty,” Guero shrugged, thinking about it, while you rolled your eyes.

“Ew, get off me you pig! You’re only making this worse.”

“For you maybe, not for me.” He responds with a wink, “I kinda like this position too.”

While he says so, you brought your knees to your chest, just to push your toes right into Guero’s gut, knocking the wind out of him as he crumpled to the side.

“That…was…not…cool.” He wheezed, holding his belly.

“Just like you smacking that ice cream from my hands. Fair is fair.” You folded your arms, rolling your head back up to stare at the ceiling with a sigh.

Guero watched the profile of you, feeling the energy radiating off you. He wasn’t completely clueless, he knew things were tougher out here for the both of you, trying to find your footing and him trying to avenge his father’s death and live up to his legacy but it always felt good to know that you had each other at the end of the day.

He shuffled closer to you, reaching out a hand to grip yours as he placed a kiss to the back of your hand. Soon he got to his feet, briefly leaving your side, then chuckled to himself at the fallen ice cream on the floor before looking into the freezer himself.

You had your eyes closed, actually liking how cooler it felt on the floor than in your bed. That nap wouldn’t last long with Guero lightly kicking your foot with his own to get your attention.

A nudge of his head made you eye him in curiosity, “Get your pretty ass up here, we’re going on a ice cream date.”

Slowly sitting up with a groan you eyed the other carton Guero was now holding in his hands. A laugh bubbled out your lips as you held one hand out for Guero to easily pull you up with one arm to your feet.

He unlocked the front door to the partial screened in porch, letting you lead the way as you let out another sigh of contentment as a breeze greeted your skin. Plopping down on the couch, you awaited for Guero to follow as he sat right beside you. Tossing your thigh over his, he pulled the top off the carton, stuck the scooper into the container and handed it right over to you.

Smiling to yourself, Guero shook his head at your eagerness as you went to work on getting a good scoop of neapolitan ice cream, leaving him to grip your neck so that he could place a kiss to the back of your once sore head.

Together the both of you sat side by side, watching the orange sunrise above the lake up ahead. A golf cart sputtered by with a elderly couple who happened to be fussing at each other as they made their way by the front of the home.

Originally Guero didn’t want to live in some retiree spot that you picked out but stopped bad-mouthing it after learning that your late firefighter mother spent her remaining months here. He also came to sorta like it, enjoying the quiet (especially at the late hour after hanging out with a bunch of rowdy brothers) and company of you after a few weeks.

“Morning!” The man greeted the two of you on his way by but not without making a coo-coo motion with his other hand towards his wife.

Which earned him a nice slap to his shoulder as the both of you waved at the couple, “I can still see you, AL! I’m not blind.”

“Oh sorry, Martha honey,” The man playfully grimaced at you two which earned him a laugh before he whispered, “I thought the glaucoma was beginning to set in.”

Guero snorted at the man, “have a good one,” as the couple carried on down the path to their daily outing.

“That’s gonna be us in forty years.” You stated after pulling the scooper from your lips, resting your head against Guero’s shoulder.

The man hummed, “you think so?”

“You don’t?”

He shrugged, “I’ll look sexier.”

“Of course you will.” You rolled your eyes with a laugh as you handed the scooper over to share.

“Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

“Likewise, even if you’re a idiot who wastes ice cream when it’s ninety degrees inside.” You smirked up at Guero who scoffed.

Guero placed the multi-flavored dessert into his mouth for breakfast and declared, “this shit is trash and nowhere near my hot fudge sundae.”

“More for me!” You reached for the carton but Guero blocked you from doing so with his shoulder.

Scowling Guero shook his head at you, “nope you’re gonna wait your turn since you ruined mine.”

“Be for real, That’s your problem, you don’t ever want to share. You’re being a trash date right now and won’t get another one.”

Guero tossed his head back in laughter, mouth full of ice cream as he talked, “yeah, right! What’s mine is yours and you’re mine.”

“Exactly, so give me my ice cream.”

“What?” He was confused by your logic.

Collapsing back against the couch dramatically, hand over your forehead and eyes closed you waited for Guero to break. It was quiet with the wind rustling it’s way through the leaves in the trees and the birds chirping through the summer morning air.

Cracking a eye open, Guero laughed at you.

“You’d be the perfect actor in a soap opera, you know?”

“And you’d be the perfect thief.”

“…takes one to know one,” Guero bit back as he placed another scoop into his mouth.

He was making you sick!

“Give it to me,” you side eyed the man, “you just said it was garbage.”

“Doesn’t mean I completely hate it but it’s not better than my sundae.” He mocked just to fall short as you latched onto his nipple and twisted.

Guero yelped, dropping the scooper into the carton with a hiss and abruptly handed it over. Grinning you happily welcomed the carton back into your hands as Guero rubbed at his pec.

“I cannot believe you just squeezed the shit out of my tit like that! Why you gotta be so violent for?”

As if he didn’t start it by breaking the best and only tower fan in the house, forcing them to settle with the mediocre ceiling fan in their bedroom.

“It’s the only way you’ll listen apparently.” You swung your feet as you licked at the scooper.

Guero winced, “fuck. Who am I gonna marry?”

Your eyes snapped to Guero’s then who stared intently at you.

“Marry?”

“Yeah, I said that.” The man dipped his head confidently before saying, “ One day though, only if you want to that is.”

There goes those butterflies with the birds singing to the beat of your heart at his words. Yeah you were being gushy right now but you couldn’t help how Guero Bardales made you feel.

“If you’re gonna kiss me, based on the look in your eye right now, can you maybe twist too so that way I’ll be more prepared and confirm if I’m with it or not?”

“You kinky asshole, you’re so unserious.” You were ready to flick the ice cream right at Guero’s gorgeous face.

He laughed, “what? I’m giving consent but I’m definitely serious about marriage down the line, I won’t lie about that baby.”

“Mhm.” You nodded leaning over for Guero to peck his plump lips with yours.

Before you could go back to your ice cream, he held your face in place—almost studying every surface of it adoringly. It was still early and you didn’t physically feel your greatest or put together for the day yet, so you sorta hated the fact that Guero was being this intimate right now.

“I love you more than anything, you know?”

You nodded without hesitation, “And I love you.”

He smiled at you, cupping your face, which you turned to peck the palm of his hand, giving him equally a loving smile.

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Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

#mayans fx #Mayans mc #mayans mc fx #mayans season 5 #mayans mc s5 #mayans mc x reader #guero mayans #Guero x reader #Guero Mayans x reader #andrew jacobs #summer prompts #summer prompt #queued

[ashlingnarcos]

play the refrain

>>> Güero Palma x Reader, 5k words, post-canon, childhood friends with benefits, warning for implied sex & violence

It's been so long since you last saw Güero that the moment you see his face, you're stricken with doubt that you can read it anymore. A stranger would be easier. He looks frightened, you think, but that's absurd—and then the prison door slides shut with a final metal clang behind him and he blinks at the sound. No fear, just Güero squinting at you bemusedly in the harsh noon sunlight.

It still stings a little. Not to be an asshole, because the day's not about you, but it would've been nice if he'd been happy to see you, or at least tried to pretend. You've made promises. You have rituals. This isn’t his first time getting released from prison, though, given everything, it will probably be his last, one way or another. Of course you were going to come. 

From your place in the driver's seat of the car, you lean across the empty shotgun seat and open the door. 

Güero strolls across the street, not bothering to look either way. The jail’s too far out from any town for traffic, and the surrounding flat fields are completely empty. It’s just you, him, the guard up in the tower, and a whole lot of dust.

Once he’s up close, he doesn’t get in, just leans on the hood of the car with one hand, ducks his head down a bit so he can study you through the open door. Oh, you know what you look like. Two gold chains around your neck, shirt half-unbuttoned, belt buckle tacky as hell. You pop your gum at him— what you looking at? —and take your sweet time looking your fill in return. It’s only right. It’s been seven years.

That gray striped shirt’s too small for him now. He was never skinny, but he’s got shoulders and a stomach on him now that fill up the open door real easy, sort of thing that makes you want to bite into the meat of his forearm. Some things time has passed over lightly, others it hasn’t. His hair remains dark, but his beard is threaded with gray. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes have deepened. They’re noticeable because he’s smiling, and that’s noticeable because it seems oddly sad. 

“I didn’t think it would be you,” he says.

Your smile nearly slips. Why’s he talking like some kind of telenovela hero? He should know that if the two of you are very, very lucky, you might get away with just being bit players. Why is he still looking at you like that, the fucking weirdo.

“Who else would it be?” you say. “Get in before you let out all the air conditioning.”

He does. There’s something viscerally satisfying about having him solid beside you, the thud of him in the seat and the way he shifts to get comfortable—fat chance, in this car—and then the click and slide of him opening up the glove compartment, finding the lighter and pack there waiting for him. Flick. The flame, the smell of the smoke. It’s real. It’s all real. And unlike most days that you’ve spent too much time dreaming up, this one isn’t outworn by the time you touch it. This one thrums, exhales, smiles cocky beside you. Asshole, is all you can let yourself think. 

You turn the key in the ignition, rev the engine, and accelerate stupid fast. He gets slammed back in his seat, but he just chuckles, rolls the window down a few inches, and then—you catch it in a quick sideways glance—closes his eyes. 

Idly, it occurs to you to be insulted by this. That seems like a good choice. That seems better than the other ways you could choose to feel about the way he lets his weight sag against the seat with his eyes closed. You put your right hand on his thigh, feel him tense up beneath the rough jeans, and feel a little better about it.

“You gonna fall asleep on me before we even get to the river?” you say. 

Güero takes your hand in both of his, his thumbs tracing slow circles against your skin. He doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t let go. 1972 was a hell of a long time ago, but apparently, he hasn’t noticed. 

Against the blast of air conditioning, his open window gives you a whisper of hot wind and an earful of rush. Still, you can hear him.

“I’m wide awake.”

.

.

.

You finally reach the right place, park the car, and stretch. It’s a short trudge down to the riverside through a narrow footpath that only gets narrower every year. The scrub encroaches, nasty, scratching at his arms and yours, until you make it to the flat rock that juts out into the river here, where the river’s shallower, more like a stream. The rock is the color of sand and big enough to hold three or four people, but it’s never held more than you two, and if you have it your way, it never will. 

Güero is very careful to put his takeaway boxes of chicken and rice in the middle of the rock. He had been so excited about it while picking it up that he couldn’t even be bothered to make small talk with the kid behind the counter, who was clearly a little starstruck about the c-list criminalebrity. You toss him a mocking, fond look for the care he’s taking with his food, and he shrugs, unabashed. The fact that he didn’t open it and eat it right there in the car is proof he does remember. There’s an order to these things.

Both of you sit down on the rock, taking off your shoes and peeling off your socks. It’s a simple rhythm, a good one. The day has nearly reached its worst heat, but that’s what the river is for. You stand up beside him, bare soles soaking up the warmth of the rock, and then you unbuckle, unbutton, shuck off your jeans. Roll up your shirtsleeves. 

Looking to see if he’s looking would be a mistake, so you don’t do that. You just wade into the water, avoiding the area of the bank on the right where there’s an especially slimy kind of river weed that always gets stuck between your toes. You reach in when you see a blur of red under the clear water and pull up an airtight cooler with one heave. Güero takes it from you at once, sets it down, opens it up. You just stand there for a while with the water up to your thighs, watching him. Out here in the water, the world always feels over and done. It’s a comfort. No urgency. 

Way back when, at his first arrest, you’d been so anxious to get it right, you packed a stupid amount of food and ended up bored of eating the same thing day after day afterwards. Now, some two stays in jail or prison later, you keep it simple: some flan that your aunt made and kept extra safe an old plastic butter container. Fresh fruit. Beer. 

There’s one twisted, knotty, stubborn little tree just to the left of your flat rock. Güero reaches up into its branches and finds his brother’s old bottle opener within seconds, tucked into the spot he had carved for it. At the sound of the first beer bottle opening, his shoulders drop half an inch. He offers the bottle to you.

You wade over and accept it, but you don’t drink until he does. Then you sit down at the very edge of the rock, feet still dangling in, no longer watching because you no longer need to, the sound and the presence of him by your right hip more than enough. He makes quick work of the chicken and rice. You decline the offer to share that, but when he chooses a ripe mango, you pass him your pocketknife. 

Güero hesitates before he takes it, offensive though he meant no offense, again, did he think you’d forgotten? He likes to shave off the thinnest slices of fruit and eat them right off the blade. It used to unnerve you, the sharp edge so close to the pink of his open mouth, but now you just lean in and accept your own slices with your tongue laying low and a deliberate prickle of teeth. 

Somewhere in the middle of the river, something goes plop. You haven’t gone fishing around here in a while, not since your nephew started shunning everyone around him in favor of his obsession with some girl. He’ll be back soon enough, but until then, you should take Güero fishing. He’s easy to be silent with. Usually. Just now, he’s at ease, but not completely; he’s still angled so he can catch the path in his peripheral, he’s still sitting, not lying down, no feet in the water. But that figures. 

It might reassure him to know that you’ve taken security into account, too. 

“Chapo wants you out,” you say.

“I am out.” He licks stray mango juice from the knuckle of his thumb. 

You pretend to focus. “I mean dead.”

“I know,” he says, but it comes with a flicker of annoyance, not concern. “Can we talk about it later?”

You hum your assent. Maybe it’s nothing to do with Chapo, then. Seven years is a pretty long stretch. You’ll let that lie. You keep noticing his hesitancy with you, his wariness, but those are papercuts you can ignore; it’s what’s behind his caution that nearly ruins the sound of running water. Seven years is so long, and you rarely called as a matter of policy. Phones are always listened in on, or they can be. What happened in there exactly, you don’t know. Maybe you don’t want to know. You’re definitely not asking. 

But they’re just flickers, his hesitancies. Right now, he’s back to the slow deliberate slice and eat, cross-legged contentment. 

His shirt really does look ridiculous, the small white buttons straining. You budge over and begin to undo them, smiling a little to yourself about it; he goes still.

“I’m not rushing you,” you murmur. “Keep eating.”

With the pad of his thumb, he brushes along your skin, just behind the corner of your jaw, right where he’d take your pulse. With the hand that’s still holding the knife. There was nothing to for him to brush away, so you flick one wry glance at him: prison really has changed your tastes, weirdo, but fondly. He won’t cut you and you know it. Whatever this is, you let it pass when he offers you more mango. You just chew and unbutton, till it’s the stained white undershirt and a bristle of chest hair—half-memory, osito —and a reminder of what you forgot.

You take off his chain from around your neck, and fasten it around his. Tricky clasp, but you’re used to it by now.

 “Kept it warm,” you say. 

He chews, he swallows. Eyes you. It’s not lust or affection alone; you can’t read it, but that’s okay. You sit back, then lay down on the sun-warmed rock, and close your eyes. It’s been a while. But it’s all gonna be okay.

.

.

.

Some time later, you hear the lid of the cooler close, and you open one eye just in time to see the mango’s core sailing through the air. It lands with a plop in the water.

“Yeah?” you say.

One of the things you can’t get in prison is good food. The other is incoming.

Güero crawls the short distance to you, and then he’s on his knees beside you, looking down at you. You don’t so much as lift your head. He presses one hand to your stomach, skin to skin in the slice between your boxers and your shirt. 

The stupid does burst and it is inside your chest, but it can’t be helped. No, it’s not separate from you, it’s you. You could never help yourself for almost as long as you’ve known him, and the fact that there is no expiration date on this is something you’ve long ceased to think of as a burden and begun to think of as a promise, a reward, or a large flat rock. Play the refrain. Again, and welcome. Your hand on his jeans-clad knee, your hand on his bearded cheek; his dark eyes are hesitant, but seven years is a long time. You let him linger, enjoy it even. The warmth of his hand against you is obscene. He can feel the muscles of of your abdomen clenching. You’re sweating already, can feel it in the stickiness of your neck, bits of your hair clinging to your forehead. 

Your lips part, and he catches that.

You say, lazily, “Are you trying to make it to eight, or—”

And there it is. Mango and beer, messy, his tongue in your mouth, your neck straining because you surged up into it, his fingers slipping underneath your shirt, and sunlight everywhere. Affectionately, you think, you missed it, huh, and then you stop thinking.

.

.

.

It’s near to dusk, but that’s fine. The sun has done its job and dried the two of you off after your long swim. You’re exhausted, but you earned it, and flan for dinner tastes so good when you’re with him that you didn’t even need any of the chicken and rice, though you had a little because he insisted. 

You’ve both updated your mental rosters, though he was ridiculous about it. Kept stopping and asking, “You really don’t know him?” about every two bit little so-and-so he ran into during Year Three, which was apparently the busiest one, though he’s still vague on the details in a way that makes you both grateful and queasy. No, osito —and here you had to break off a little so he could laugh at the nickname—no, I don’t give a fuck how many baby felons are out there praying on your downfall, to me you’ll always be that guy who still owes me a 1978 King Cobra Mustang—yes it’s ugly, that’s the whole point, you idiot.

He’d wrestled you back into the water. You really are exhausted. But it’s good now, perfectly calm. You can hear the sound of water and the sound of the little crepuscular creatures beginning to stir in the underbrush.

Güero has his head is in your lap. You’re wearing his gray striped shirt, and he, in turn, is wearing almost nothing. In a while, you’ll need to head home, but that will mean having to share him, so you’ll do the drive in the dark if you can, keep this as long as you can. When you ask him, “So, what now?” it’s only to make sure that he’s okay with being kept for longer. 

The silence lasts so long that you think he’s falling asleep, so you lean over him and bite his nose. He pushes your head away and clambers up off you, which wasn’t really what you wanted, but from the clearness of his eyes, he was awake the whole time. He’s not sleepy in the least.

“What?” he says, leaning back on his elbows, astonishingly ill-tempered. Right, fine, you’re not gonna keep him for longer.

“Where do you want me to take you first?” you say. “What now?”

He holds a blank look for a second, and then shifts just slightly. Physically, it’s not much, it’s nothing you could ever describe to anybody else without making yourself sound crazy, but this is Güero, so when you know, you know. Your face shows your alarm, and he, in turn, doesn’t bother trying to put the façade back up. 

“You know what now,” he says, quietly. 

“I really fucking don’t.” 

What makes your stomach drop is this: he’s trying to be brave. You’ve seen that look on his face before, not very often in recent decades, but all the time when you were younger, all the time, and the survival response is built into you, skittering along the nape of your neck, sharpening your hearing, where is it? Where’s the danger? You glance to the path, but it’s still, and you haven’t heard any cars whizzing along the road since a few that went by around dinnertime. It’s getting dark much more quickly now, though, and that makes it worse. There’s something you’ve missed.

“Here’s a good a place as any,” he says. 

Something clicks, way back in your head. When you picked him up, your first thought on seeing him was that he looked frightened. 

You stare at him helplessly. There’s no pushing it down this time. Every little thing that’s been wrong since you went to get him, the hesitancies, the idiosyncrasies, the odd moments where you surprised him, it all raises itself up between you, and you can barely see him anymore. Maybe you never could.

He sits up, reaches into the cooler, and pulls out the gun. 

Between the two of you, if one person is released from jail, they wait to get picked up. If they don’t get picked up, they hitch a ride down a ways and then walk to the rock. If a day goes by and the other person doesn’t show up, that means shit’s gone bad and it’s time to take the cash, the map, and the gun and make some fucking moves. It’s an insurance policy you cooked up to make yourselves feel better, to give your picnics of freedom and gluttony into something with maybe a purpose, maybe an edge. In all honesty, the worst you ever expected was that both of you would be in prison at the same time, but other than that, you never really expected to get out and not have him there waiting, or for him to get out and not have you there waiting. Stupid. Faith. Whatever. 

Güero hands you the gun. 

“I’d rather it be you,” he says.

On automatic, you check the gun, as you always check any weapon you’re handed; yeah, it’s loaded, and yeah, there’s one in the chamber. 

You look at him in astonishment.

“It’s okay,” he says, like he’s the one sparing you, and that’s when you know it’s real.

“I don’t know who told you that I would be killing you today,” you say, just barely eking out the words out, jaw tight, “but we should kill them instead.”

He still won’t look at you. 

“Héctor.” 

Chin up. He holds your gaze, then wavers, and your grip tightens. What did they tell him to make him ever believe you would hurt him? What did they do to make him think that? What did you ever do to make him think that? Was it always this way, and you just didn’t know it?

Conflicting emotions play across his face, and for that, you feel more outrage than anything else; you know how this ends, of course he walks away. Of course he gets to live. What is there for to consider? It’s him. It’s you. 

Finally, you can see certainty settle on him. A moment later, he says, “I’m sorry.” There's a little relief in it, but mostly defeat.

There’s nothing you can say to that because you’re choking on the thousand things you need to say, watching him and thinking, shouldn’t you be happier than this? You get to live, asshole, and that’s all I wanted, this was all I wanted. This hurts more than anything. But the only thing you manage to speak is your rage.

“I mean, you’re so far off the fucking map there are dragons , you shit-for-brains son of a—”

He cuts in surprisingly swift. “Did you not accept an order from Chapo to kill me?”

“Of course I did!” you say, aghast. “That doesn’t mean I was going to do it. Just how stupid are you?”

He doesn't answer, because he can't. You both know stupidity has nothing to do with it.

In the back of your head, you note that he has an informant at least as high as you are in the organization, and kept that from you too. 

You're all but shaking now, the whole warm day curdling to poison in your stomach. He walked over to you, got into your car, laid his head in your lap and closed his eyes—the whole time, this? You don't understand it and you don't understand him and that is worse than any sentence you've served. The rock is gone in every way that matters. You never saw this coming.

"Why did you come to me, then?" Why deliver himself to the slaughter? He's been so many things, you've chided him for so many things, but meekness is not one of them.

His dark eyes are direct but ashamed.

"I'm tired," he says, simply.

You can only look at him now. There’s nothing left to say. The sun has set and the air’s becoming cold; that’s the desert, enough heat to kill you or none at all. So he’s willing to die. How long has it been like this? You can’t even hold onto your anger anymore, and once that goes, you’re left empty-handed. Empty.

Héctor’s voice rises half an octave, like you’ve accused him. 

"They killed my—” He stops himself, tries again. “I don’t—” 

He’s not clamoring against his lot, only against your judgment. 

“What do you want from me?" he says. 

"What about—" As soon as you realize where the sentence ends, you shut your mouth. What about me. Vestigial. The last of your mistakes, the foundational mistake; what you had taken for granted that you never fucking should have. The idea that you’d matter. The idea that you’d be enough.

He goes to you then, far too late. Apologetic, he cups your face in his hands, and you want to shrink away, but that would be giving away your hurt pride, wouldn’t it? You’re not enough, and he decided this. You can’t even look at him anymore. A thought is forming, though slowly, and you give it time as you push him away and get to your feet. If you’re not enough, then—and there you stutter as the world around you holds fast. It takes forever to catch hold of it, because you don’t want to. But it’s too obvious to miss. You know what you have to do. This is the last time. 

Fuck it, you think, though it hurts so bad you can feel it in your body. If he wants to lay down on the highway, you won’t be the fatal car, but you don't have to stick around to hear the crunch, either.

You put on your jeans. He’s hovering, though he knows enough not to move closer, not to touch you. Wordlessly, you tuck the gun into your waistband—this is the last time, but you’re not gonna make it that easy on him, you’re just not. 

In the shadows, your last look at him is a gleam of his eyes, the eyes of boy you knew very well in a face of a stranger. Then you turn and go. As you make your way back up to the road, crashing through the underbrush with vicious satisfaction in snapped twigs and scratched arms, you hear him say your name. There’s so many things you could say to hurt him now, but what would be the point? There’s nothing you can do that they haven’t already done. 

"You can walk home,” you say, and feel a dull, muffled pride in the flatness of your own voice. He taught you well.

"Home?” he says. “Where the fuck is that?" 

.

.

.

You’re whizzing north so fast that when the cop car lurches out from its hiding place on the side of the road and gives chase, you’re almost happy to see it—you could beat it, if you wanted. But in this territory, you don’t get stopped without reason. Not for something stupid as speeding. So instead, you hit the brakes, with a great screeching and a cloud of dust, grimly enjoying the drama of it and not even pulling over to the side of the road. Maybe someone will drive up behind you. So what? Let them go around.

The cop turns out to be Abel, a calm, moon-faced captain, curious choice for traffic duty. He parks alongside you, rolls down his window, and waits with dull patience as you stare at him through the glass of your own window. Dull patience. He’s used to dealing with you and your type. What a shame he’s not here to fight you after all. You roll down your own window after a while.

“Do you want my license and registration?” you say.

Again, Abel gives you nothing but patience. 

“Because I haven’t got any.”

“Chapo has new plans for the body,” Abel says. “Where did you bury Güero?” 

Ah. With all the heat of your argument with Güero still clouding, you hadn’t bothered to figure out what came next, and so what you do next comes automatically. You lie. 

“I didn’t bury him yet,” you say. “I was going to ask Chapo if I could bury him in his family’s plot, with Lupita and the kids. As a favor.”

Patient, yes—but Abel is no fool. His expression barely changes, but you suddenly realize he has not come out of his car for a reason. He doesn’t trust you. He shouldn’t trust you. Seven years isn't long enough for any veteran of the force to forget about what you and Güero have gotten up to together, not even if the vet's corrupt—especially if the vet's corrupt.

“So where is he?” Abel says.

You pretend to think about lying, and then you pull out a defeated look. Not a well-practiced one, that look, but passable. 

“In the trunk,” you say grudgingly. “I’ll shift him from mine to yours; you take him to Chapo.”

“I don’t—”

But you’re already getting out of the car, wearing a look of distaste, walking round to the back, so Abel gets out of his car too. 

“You’ll have to help me lift,” you say. “I could barely get him in on my own.”

“Chapo just told me to escort you there with the body, not take it there myself.”

“You think I want to see whatever he has planned?”

Abel shrugs unhappily. “I have orders. Just open the—”

His reflexes are too good for you to knock him out at once; he catches the intended blow on his forearm, and then you’re both down on the ground, grappling. It’d be really nice, trying to catch hold of him, trying to win. It’d be perfect, really, except that gaining the rank of captain in your area is no picnic, so he’s good and he bloodies your nose and you’re not really getting to play with your food. By the time you have him in a chokehold, your adrenaline has spiked but you can’t even enjoy it. It’s not quite right. He’s not the one you want to kill. So you cut it short, with your elbow clamped around his throat, cutting off his circulation, your ribs taking the brunt of his elbow trying to slam back into you, his back pressed sweaty to your front. You almost feel bad for him.

“Abel,” you say, with infinite weariness, “I really will kill you.”

He stops struggling. You hit his head against the asphalt just hard enough to knock him out. 

Two minutes later, you’re driving back the way you came, with Abel in the trunk of his own car. They’ll find him in less than a day. He’ll be fine.  

You nearly miss Güero in the dark, you’re driving so fast; you brake, and then reverse, and then it’s a mirror of you picking him up at the jail: you leaning over the shotgun seat to open the door for him. He’s wearing your shirt. He looks over at you with dull resentment, and then sees your bloody nose; one glance down the deserted road, and then he hops inside.

“Yeah?” he says. 

“I just fought a cop,” you say. For you goes unsaid. Then you hit the gas. 

You’re looking down the road at what lies ahead. There’s nothing for a couple miles, and then there’s one huge truck coming along the opposite way, a big one. Nothing local, if you’re lucky. You drag the sleeve of his shirt across your mouth, under your nose. Blood smears the striped gray fabric. You were a mess to start with and this makes no difference. That’s the argument you’d like to make, anyway. That’s your story and you’re sticking to it. 

“Thank you,” Güero says quietly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Your voice is too loud, but you don’t apologize, and you don’t take it back. Maybe you should.

On the other hand, he doesn’t actually shut the fuck up. He speaks, again, in that weighty, quiet voice, that voice you hate because there is an intimacy you can only get when he’s that quiet, and you don’t want to want it any more. You are on the same side, sure, yeah, of course. You don’t want to notice it. 

“Lean forward,” he says. 

You do, and he reaches over, pulls the gun from your waistband, and checks it. You glance over at him, quick. In the dark of the car, there’s not much to see, but he was the one who taught you how to handle a gun and you quickly surpassed him in discipline on that front, so you could simply imagine him checking a weapon and it would look the same. The thin gleam of gold is his chain at the nape of his neck. You give up. You look back at the road.

“Go to sleep,” you say, quiet like he is. “It’s a long drive.”

You hear what happens next more than you see it. He’s a flicker in your periphery. He puts the gun in the center console at his side, leans back, sighs. He’s probably closed his eyes. Maybe he’s asleep by now.

“Thank you,” he says again. 

“Shut the fuck up, Héctor,” you say, gently, and that’s all. 

#guero palma x reader #hector palma x reader #guero x reader #güero x reader #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico #narcos mexico fanfiction #mine

[narcolini]

not in this life

güero x gn!reader, sort of pining, sort of enemies, 795 words for day 16 of narcoctober: dreams a/n: plot? i don't know her! AU? quite possibly! don't ask questions because i do not have answers <3 tagging: @narcosfandomdiscord @drabbles-mc @cositapreciosa @ashlingiswriting @hausofmamadas

There’s no opening, no invite, no explanation. No route that he can remember. Only you and him, in the home you’ve never stepped foot in, because you didn’t know him then. One minute elsewhere, and the next—

‘Güero?’

He hums, head lifting from nothing, to find you across the room. 

‘Can I?’

You’re standing by his wardrobe, fingers dug deep into the shirts within. Ready before he’s even answered.

He shrugs. ‘If they fit.’

‘Of course they’ll fit.’ You pull a brown striped one from its hanger and put it over your shoulder, freeing your hands to unbutton your own. ‘I told him the colt was a bad pick,’ you say.

‘He’ll learn.’

‘Acosta, or…?’

‘Don’t.’ He sighs. ‘Both.’

You’re pleased with that, his warning and his submission. He clocks it on your face before it’s away again. ‘But seriously,’ you continue, ‘how long will that take?’

‘How long have you got?’

You laugh, half turning toward him. He watches it twitch out of you, watches your rib cage go in and out again afterwards, between the column of open buttons. In this world, he’s allowed to look. That’s obvious without asking, or hearing you say it, that’s beneath the bones themselves. In the blood. 

He can look. You want him to look. 

‘Shingamadre's ruined every shirt I’ve put on this week,’ you complain, moving again to show him the horseshoe stamped onto your checkered back. There must be a matching one beneath the cotton, raised and discoloured, hot to the touch from the swelling, but you turn again as the shirt drops; he’s left staring at your chest when you pull on the replacement. His shirt over your shoulders, his buttons bracketing your navel.

‘It doesn’t hurt?’ he asks.

A smile slings across your cheeks, point to point. ‘Not at all.’

He can’t match it. His head shakes. ‘You’re crazy.’ 

Then you’re in front of him—in exchange of a reply—having never moved, or raised a foot, but being right there all the same, hot breath to his neck, hands comfortable on his collar. ‘Crazy enough to say no to?’ you ask.

‘No.’ 

‘Never?’

‘I don’t like boring,’ he explains. ‘You aren’t boring.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I do,’ he says, ‘but this is a dream, so it doesn’t count.’

You pull back. You kiss him. You don’t touch him at all.

‘What?’

He says it again into the black. ‘This is a dream.’

*

When he wakes, you’re standing over him. You as you are every day, in your own clothes, with that usual indifferent expression. It sits on him like that was what summoned him back, not the sudden awareness of himself, of his false consciousness, but the call of that look you give him every fucking day. 

It’s not quite hatred, but it’s a distaste constant enough to sting just the same. 

‘You fell asleep again,’ you snark, tossing his car keys onto his chest. They land with a thud, cold metal hitting his gold chain. ‘I’m bored of waiting.’

He sighs, dragging a flat, dry palm across his face. ‘We’ll go then.'

‘They’ve called twice already.’

‘I said we’ll go.’ 

‘You also said you were done sleeping on the job.’

He sits upright, unable to stop the low groan that follows. This couch was never made for naps. It’s barely made for sitting at all. He flexes his shoulders to no avail, then gives you a look instead of a warning, also to no avail. 

‘You could have driven yourself,’ he says, low and unconvinced of the idea. He’s only saying it to say it. And because there’s enough sleep around his tongue to lead it astray. 

You don’t move as he stands, putting him and yourself face to face in defiance. ‘Are you dreaming still?’ you ask, scoffing in between. ‘Drive myself?’

‘We’re going.’ He pushes past you, avoiding your shoulder, avoiding the image of your shirt, un-done to your waist. ‘But it’s the last time.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You’re following him, mocking him. ‘Because that’s your decision to make.’

It will be, one day. Once he’s left the dreams behind and the ranks under his feet. Once you’re the one driving him. 

‘Do you know horses?’ he asks, light like it’s small talk and not an anchor in the deep.

You’re frowning, no doubt, he can feel the scrutiny in the back of his head. But you humour him with an answer all the same, ‘No, never liked them.’

‘Good,’ he says, ‘then it’s a nightmare, not a dream,’ and he doesn’t expand, and you don’t ask. You just walk in silence, car keys rattling from the hook of his finger. He’s awake and welcomes it, all thoughts of borrowed shirts and unbroken colts, left on the shallow couch behind. 

#narcoctober #guero x reader #narcos mexico fanfiction #güero x reader #narcos mexico imagine

[bullet-prooflove]

Intimacy: Bottles x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @darqchilddaydreamz

You look so good on your knees in front of him, your lips wrapped around his cock, tongue teasing over the tip in that wicked little way of yours. He cradles your head with his hands, fingertips tugging gently at your hair as you take him deep. That euphoria, it rides up inside of him, he feels the tightening in his balls, the tingle across his lower back. His breathing is ragged as he pulls away, his dick leaving your mouth with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Not yet sweet girl.” He tells you, his voice rough as his thumb trails over the shape of your swollen lips. “It’s not your mouth I wanna come in.”

He’s got a territorial streak, he knows that. It’s been ingrained into him since the moment he’d kissed you on the porch. Guero had initially shown an interest but he’d flamed out. It’s Bottles that you had eyes for, Bottles that you imagine when you’re at home alone at night touching yourself, Bottles that knows exactly want you want and how to give it to you. He guides you into his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, he watches your face as he enters you slowly, your head tipping back and breath hitching as you envelop him.

“That’s it.” He whispers as he withdraws and starts all over again. “Fuck sweet girl, you know how to get me there.”

His arm wraps around your waist, pinning you in place as he begins to thrust up in slow, powerful strokes, the head of his cock dragging over that sweet spot as he fucks you. Your palm comes to rest on his chest, fingertips playing over the space where his heart resides. He’s noticed that you seek out connection, that you crave intimacy in moments like this and he’s happy to oblige. His palm clasps your jaw, guiding your mouth back to his. You kiss him with a passion and desperation that ignites something inside of him. He’s never wanted someone the way he wants you, you’re as integral to him as oxygen and he loves you in the same way he needs to breathe.

That familiar pink flush creeps across your skin, your hands tangle in his hair. You come with his name on your lips, whispering it into his mouth as he drinks down each one of the syllables. You combust like a fucking star, stealing away his sanity as he spills his release deep inside of you. He doesn’t move in the aftermath, he holds you in place, his hands on your hips, keeping you there completely filled with him.

Because it’s not just you that craves the intimacy. It’s him too.

Love Bottles? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bottles goggles #bottles x you #bottles x reader #bottles mayans #bottles mayans mc #alex barone

[guero423]

[thesolotomyhan]

a/n: yeah so i don’t know what this is to be honest ????? ive been writing something else but its taking me longer than id like because i want it to be decent/special  for you guys to read ? and honestly i just thought of this on the spot just to at least fill the space that i have left you all lol but yeeh this is just some very very short random thoughts (based on 1 idea each) because i was feeling like a soft pile of mush - but uhmm have this for the small meantime pls :)))

warnings: some suggested content ? but no full on smut this time :) 

amado: (soft mornings?)

mi primer amor,,, i cant help but want to be soft for him on this fine day because there’s just something so soft and full of love it makes my heart hurt when i think about these slow and soft mornings with him,, where you both are still asleep,, limbs tangled with one another ,, as he just has you sleeping on his chest :( him being the first one to wake up (he loves being the first one up just for this specific part in the morning :(( ) and just  being able to just relish in the fact he has you here with him,, you sleeping on his chest wearing one of his shirts, with the most relaxed dream state look on your face,, one of your legs propped up around his torso,,, and his own arm having been resting on your lower back to keep you in place and he swears right there in this moment there is no place better to ever be than here,, contigo,, in your shared bed,, with his reina :( in the mornings :( as he just stares down at you feeling so content because this is what he strives to achieve - to want- everyday para siempre,, he doesnt ever want these few minutes to pass, quiere estar alli for how ever long he can get and he damn well wants this enternity so much he’s already starting to plan things out to leave behind just so he can so much more mornings and entire days filled for these kinds of moments :(( and wow :(((( i just want to say furthermore,,, i feel like he would not move,, not a single muscle away from you during these times in the mornings,, your warmth just makes it too hard for him to move away,, and the way he just adores your entire form is what ties it all together for him,, he could easily spend hours upon hours just admiring you during those moments and he finds that itch he craves for during the mornings when youre still in a deep sleep just to have his eyes wander everywhere on your face :( doesnt matter if your hair is sticking out everywhere or if youre softly snoring,, this mf loves it all :(( goodbye im so soft for him right now 

benjamin:

ayy dios mio,,, i swear dina’s wedding in s3 gave me so much to work with here on these hcs/blurbs because i am being my usual soft fuvking self and i just literally let out a quiet sob at the thought of him :(((( reminiscing his own wedding with you :(((( at dinas wedding :(((( like ay no i can just imagine when he sees the way enedina looks at claudio and him at her at the altar,,, the way this mf would get so soft and happy as he sneaks a glance at you ??? his esposa a su lado de el ???? omg someone pls hold me because the way he would start to have that mirada in his eyes like you just hung the fuvking stars for him gets me to melt on the spot,, and him with his tiny little smile as he blindly searches with one of his hands to hold yours :(((( the two of you giving eachother loving smiles when you turn to look at him as soon as you feel his hand :( because the connection you both would have is there, right at this moment beating and ugHH i cant because the two of you finding it near damn impossible to try and focus back on the wedding happening in front of you because you two just happen to get caught up in this tiny moment :((( him not letting your hand go since hes already threading your fingers together,, the skin on his hand feeling the coldness of the ring that rests on your finger that brings him the warmth in his heart :((( i cant do this im sorry but i just :( i have to mention before i finish up benjamins little blurb here but the thought :( of him not wiping that look off of his face at the reception later on :(( like him all throughout the night repeating “te amo” every chance he gets just because he feels like it :( and even though its not a rare occurrence for you to see him like this,, all enamorado como niño a la primera vez ,, he still seems to be more touchy and with the light in his eyes as he looks at you intensifying everytime his eyes land on you makes you about to question him que, que tiene when youre dancing with him :(( but then he just beats you to it when he looks back you, his arm around your waist as he leads you around like “te recuerdas cuando nos casamos tu y yo mi amor?” all with this soft look in his eyes,, literally giving you the biggest hearteyes possible as he smiles at you when he goes “ese fue el mejor dia de mi vida” all soft as you feel him hold you closer if its even possible as he just squeezes your hand,, waltzing around with you on the dancefloor,, the two of you exchanging lovesick smiles and miraditas as you answer him and reminisce it all :( im sorry i - 

mayo:

i cry just picturing him so sorry but anyways him being that whipped mf that just loves putting up going to parties just to see you all dressed up :( like :( i lowkey sob to the thought of him kind of like sulking because he has to get dressed up and put up with other people he doesnt exactly want to converse with,, so he’s just over here,, making sure he looks presentable enough but being more quiet than usual,,, him most of the time just looking up and watching you get dressed/get ready,, his gaze softening just by watching you move about :(( god im so sorry but i love the idea of him helping you zip up the back of your dress or help you put your shoes on because i know his ass would just to get the dread he’s feeling out of his system by helping you or just by watching you and him pausing all of his movements and you know that:(( so just,,,, you getting up and walking over to him,, him giving you this soft smile as he just brings you closer his hands resting on your hips,, his thumb softly rubbing smooth circles into you :(( you bringing your hands up in between you both to adjust the collar of his shirt and straighten out the top of his jacket,,, him fuvking staring down at you with these glazed eyes like he’s in his own world with just you and him :(( you just lightly going “sabes mi amor, no tenemos que ir si no quieres, nos podemos quedar aqui en la casa” your hands coming to rest in between the space where his neck meets his shoulders :(( and oh my god,,, him just shaking his head,, giving you a smile that reaches his eyes,, him leaning into your touch, one of his hands coming to hold you by your lower back, his finger playing with the fabric of your dress and just going “no, esta bien, contigo a mi lado, puedo aguantar cualquier cosa en este mundo mi reina” him :( leaning down to kiss you softly :(( the both of you intertwining your hands together and you pulling away first giving him a smile “listo?” and uGh i cant him brining your hand up to kiss it again like “ey” letting you tug him along as his gaze lingers on you :((( ay no güey

ramon:

 god- i was reminiscing that wedding hc again that i wrote for him a while back because hermoso cariño randomly came on from my playlist as i was writing the rest of the guys and i had flashbacks,, and i just have to talk about the early morning after the wedding- like post everything,, thats what came to me just now but :( just a little idea that i had popped into my brain just now,,,  because when you’re both at your honeymoon destination:( and it’s so early in the morning that the sun is just JUST barely peeking over but it’s still not too out that it illumainates the sky for the mornings so you’re no where near waking up,,  because youre still curled into his chest :( your breathing still coming out in even strokes its so obvious youre still in your deep sleep,, and you just having that post fucking sex look you have that he just adores everytime on you,,, small bruises that are scattered across your body on your skin that are just starting to appear,,, peeking out from the thin sheets that don’t cover your entire body from being tangled between the two of you,, but him just letting his eyes admire the marks that come from him leaving them behind on you from both of your activities not even hours ago, when he had you panting his name out as he repeatedly pushed into you,, but now even in his still fogged sleep state,, his eyes come to rest on your left hand,,, your left hand that resting atop of chest,, the same one he held hours ago as he helped you come down from the high he gave you,,, the moonlight thats still fighting its way to stay out illuminating a soft flash in his eyes that reminds him,,, your his esposa,, you carry his last name now and he cant help but let out a small smile grace his features as he pulls you tighter against him,,, the feeling of a cold metal that hangs around your neck pressing into him not bothering him at all,, :( especially when he remembers what it is,,, one of his first wedding gifts to you :(( as your husband :( a necklace :( with his initial hanging from around your neck :( just giving him the feeling of being whole just from the sheer fact that not only do you have his last name,, his entire heart,,, but now a piece of him that you would start to wear from now on just making him feel content ,, theres no better place than to be here with you :(( and i cant bye :(

güero:

WOW YEAH HUH?? ?? surprise yall,,, you know how long it’s been since ive written a word on mi güerito?? ………  july - from the last YEAR and i almost broke down because how could i forget mi güero- the man who is the biggest simp from this whole group of men go ahead and try to contradict my statement it won’t change me ,,, but to begin this thing,,, i was frantically going through my mind like ??? what is something i can talk about for mi hector? mi pinshe güero precioso ?? and :( uGH i dont know i started to ramble in my thoughts and i was quickly noting shit down because i feel it in my bones,, deep in my heart,, this mans love language feels like he would starve for touch,,, he craves it all the time and he feels like he’s absolutely losing it inside of him when he feels you lay a hand on him gently or even graze your hand near him im sorry im just going with the flow here because you cant sit there and tell me you dont ?? feel some type of way ??? when i say i imagine him becoming so damn weak in the knees con una simple toque from you,, it has him just on the verge of him giving you the world :(( like you could move his hair para accomodarlo or just make it a little messy after he has it styled a little too well just because maybe you think the little strand of hair out of place is a better look for him and it just has this mf simply giving you the softest look and admentmindedly moving one of his hands down to your other hand thats not occupied to hold it :( running his thumb across your knuckles and letting his lovesick smile cross his face as he just gazes upon you :(( definitely bringing your hand up to kiss it after your done with your work because why not ? :((( or something else that crossed my mind is how your hand could simply graze him because maybe your setting something down in front of him,, or you just happen to walk next to him and accidentally brush against him would have this man just automatically try to hold your hand to bring you closer :( because your touch is just so comforting and he has this sense of everything is going to be alright- or that everything is alright just because he has you right next to him,, the warmth of your hand being just so similar to the feeling you give him in his heart and i cant :( he is just the softest man here and i love him dearly 

miguel angel:

:((( ooHH this whole thing i thought for him?? i just have to credit to all those scenes in this show where hes seen strESSING that it causes him emotional and physical pain- im sorry hes always at his most vulnerable in those parts and uGh i just have to say my brain loves to imagine him during one of those times for this idea for him,,, like its just one of those days where everyone has been on his ass either for a rise in their plazas,, the desmadre and lowkey rivalty fights between plazas,, money and drug flow between all of them and just everything feeling like it’s slipping through his fingers and adding this more pressuring weight on his shoulders he just cant handle the stress and how everyone is just expecting him to do milagros in that very second it’s has him on the very edge of losing it right then and there ,, and ohH especially once he hears the door to his office creek open he thinks he very much might lose all thinning patience because its probably one of the guys coming to bother him :) but then :) as soon as the glare in his eyes comes in as he looks up :) it disappears in that very millisecond :) once he sees you :) en toda tu gloria softly smiling at him :) and he just feels in that instant everything gradually diminishing thats bothering him because youre here walking up to him and just placing a soft kiss on his lips that he forgets in that very second why hes frustrated :( and im just sorry right now because i just love to imagine/picture the way he just loves being able to lay back in your arms,, like you sitting down on the couch in his office,, him coming over and just letting his upper part of his body fall back into your lap,, his legs dangling over the other part of the couch just so he can feel your fingers running through his hair,, messing up his peinado but he could literally care less because your soft touch makes him feel so much better its the most comforting thing ever to him in that moment because he would be leaning into your hands wordlessly asking you to keep going as he shuts his eyes,, and in these types of moments he feels so at ease he can literally choose to stay silent and let it all out in deep breathes with the feeling or your hands in his hair :(((( or him feeling like hes able to just talk out all of his problems and everything going on around his business out loud to you with no consequence because the simple fact that youre sitting there with him,, your touch making him feel so good, silently listening to him and just- hearing him out not as a business partner that could blow up on him for the shit hes pulling but as his partner- as his other half- his mujer that always takes his side and hears him out when he needs it the most it makes him feel so much better and like the weight hes carrying around,, just diminishing in that very moment with you :( i- wow

kitty:

alright listen here,,,, before we actually begin i want to say this turned out to be like a little blurb but also with a taste of this small brainstorm i had with myself when writing this and i just wanted to let you guys know before you attack me for this or begin to read but anyways i was recently going through a trip down memory lane with mana and this whole little idea blurb def DEFINITELY came from listening to oye mi amor iykyk ;) but idk i was just randomly listening to it and i was just questionining myself someone from this dumb show gives off energy with this song/lyrics and thats where i imagined kitty :) and it’s something just so poetic to imagine him and you having been best friends that would be so inseparable,,, that so many of the other juniors would have for sure without a doubt seen the two of you becoming something more,, something great and full of happiness only for all of that to deteriorate in the most fastest whirlwind possible,, just for the heartstrings to pull,,, because it almost ALMOST did happen,:))  that the two of you almost became lovers and all that shit  breaks my heart because :( it was on the verge of happening :( the stolen glances you both would give eachother everytime you were together,,, the outspoken bond you both carried it made the two of you have this downright power couple vibe going on ,,,, especially with his crazy ass that would get you to match his whole vibe and uGH im telling you ,,, everyone that knows you two had to have bet something about how this connection you both have would turn to be this iconic/power couple match ya feel?? it was just mere moments- no seconds- for one of you to make the move first,, because no one could even be a better match for either of you,, this whole relationship with you and him was meant to be,, like a soulmates (i think) type of shit you know? and wow i just i cant because my heart feels like it’s going to shatter at the thought of you :( being with someone else :( suddenly?? out of the blue ,,,, someone who clearly doenst match you and shoots you down :((( un tipo frio y aburrido just like the song says :((( and UGH i cannot because its just the thought of kitty becoming so frustrated and down all the time because he invites you to come hang out with him or with the rest of the juniors but you always saying you can’t because the bum youre with doesnt want you to go or something dumb like that and omG :((( i just know it might be him that decides to make you open your eyes because maybe he just gets so fed up with how this other guy treats you and doesn’t care about you like kitty would or maybe it’s the encouragement of some of the guys that gets him to get off his ass and actually fight for you :( but i just idk i kind of just like this idea in general ???? but thats about where i got with it and its just been sitting in my ideas and i wanted to express something about it ? because the whole slow pinning where neither of you want to say what you actually feel in fear of that your relationship could deteriorate,, to the angst of a feeling in my deep soul that youre taken all of a sudden?? And the anger pinche loco de kitty would feel about the whole situation feeds me where i need it most,, to just the build up/eventually burst/barf of feelings that you both would spill because two idiots in love is such a fuvking thing i love to imagine I’m sorry, but thank you for coming to my therapy session 

tag list: @coaxium-captain-rex @visintaes @sheeshgivemeabreak @artemiseamoon @wtfisgoingonlol @boomclapxox @carlislecullenisadilf @ashlingiswriting  

miguel angel tag: @all-tings-diego @xbeyondthegatex 

amado tag: @mylovepedro 

arellano tag: @tinylittleobsessions @curaheed @yourlocalspacewitxch 

benjamin tag: @criatividad-e​ 

let me know if you want to be added! 

#amado carrillo fuentes #benjamin arellano felix #ismael el mayo zambada #el mayo #ramon arellano felix #el guero #hector palma #miguel angel felix gallardo #arturo paez #el kitty #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #amado carrillo fuentes x reader #benjamin arellano felix x reader #ismael el mayo zambada x reader #el mayo x reader #ramon arellano felix x reader #el guero x reader #hector palma x reader #miguel angel felix gallardo x reader #arturo paez x reader #el kitty x reader #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico imagines

[zaraquinn]

OKAY I GOT TO THAT POINT WHERE I ASK YALL QUEEN OF THE SOUTH FANS TO SEND ME YOUR X READER ASKS BC IM IN THAT FUCKING PHASE RN

i will write for:

- javier jimenez (obvious-fucking-ly)

- james valdez

- guero davila

- pote galvaz

- boaz jimenez

- king george

Go on and ask away :)

#zarawrites #zararequests #zara asks #queen of the south #queen of the south x reader #javier jimenez #james valdez #guero davila #pote galvez #boaz jimenez #king george #queen of the south imagines #queen of the south season 4 #queen of the south spoilers #qots s4 #qots season 4 #qots spoilers #qots #qots fic #qots cast #qotsedit

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Oh hey lovely, I'm back already 😆

If you felt so inclined, would you please write prompt number 17 with our babe Guero?

🌻

Oh, fo' sho, best Aussie! Fo' sho!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The moans pour from your mouth, a divinely erotic symphony, your legs trembling, his head between them as he bathes your clit in the hot wet of his tongue.

Each lick sends you reeling, bliss skittering down to your bones, your slick gleaming where it trickles over his hand, three fingers rooted deep in the sopping mess of your cunt.

You feel breached entirely, opened up to him wide, a fourth sliding in, his moan a rumbled grunt of desire as his full lips wrap your bud to suck. He's gentle at first, that pressure mounting, your walls in spasm as his fingertips massage the sweetest of spots within, your cries filling the air.

He has you there, fire licking your spine, your legs closing around his head, grinding yourself against his mouth, completely lost to the utter fervid ecstasy he has racing over your nerves.

“Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”

His fingers slow, stroking out each wave of bliss as it ebbs away, turning to kiss your inner thigh with a wink. "Can't wait for you to make me say the same thing."

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfiction #guero smut #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fic #guero fanfic #guero x reader #mayans mc imagine

[ravennaortiz]

“ i miss you” from the prompt list with guero please :)

A little magic for our handsome Guero? I sure can do that! As always my stories are 18+!

Prompt 52. I miss you

Guero lay in his bed with his eyes still closed even though he had been awake for awhile. He loved these quiet moments of the early morning when he could just pretend you were the only two on the planet. He felt you move closer and smiled slightly. He could feel the heat of your breast against his chest and the touch of your soft hand on his cheek.

When your soft lips found his and kissed him he opened his eyes to find your face mere inches from him. "I miss you" you whispered as your hand traveled down his chest and onto his thigh. Guero groaned as your nails tickled his flesh. He wasted no time moving himself over you and sliding into your slick heat. The feel of your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him deeper had him moaning.

Gueros mouth found yours as he kept you pinned beneath him. Sucking your moans into his mouth as if he was trying to consume you. The two of you a mess of withering limbs and sweat that gleamed in the early morning light. The two of you came together in a wave of pleasure and moans. The weight of Guero collapsing on top of you was comforting as the two of you caught your breath.

"Not leaving this bed today" stated Guero as he kissed your neck a few minutes later when his phone rang.

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#ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc #guero mayans smut #guero fanfic #guero mayans #guero mayans fanfiction #guero mayans mc #guero x reader #guero mayans mc fanfiction #mayans smut

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

If you haven’t received a Guero ask yet, I would like him with with prompt #4: 'I'm cold, and you're warm, you should do something about that." Pretty please!

Even though I love his dad more, he’s still a really cute guy!

Masterlist

Eventful Outing

Contains: Fishing (killing fish for food given a two-word mention) fluff.

1.4 K words

“When it rains on the ocean it rains on fish too.” - Matshona Dhliwayo.

As you stood in the rain with the river flowing by you, you wondered why you had agreed to this, "I brought plenty of food, can't we go inside until the rain eases up?" 

Guero snorted, "No fucking way, I told you I was going to catch us a fish for dinner and I am." 

You looked to his father, who shook his head, "The young man had a plan y/n, I'm sure we won't be waiting long." 

When Guero got you to agree to go on a fishing trip up north with him and Ibarra, you didn't think that would mean being stuck in the rain while they struggled to catch dinner, "It's not Salmon season so the only fish you're going to get now is Bass. You need to put different bait on the line." 

Guero glared at you, but there was no fire behind it, "You could have told us that an hour ago." 

His father huffed, "I tried to son, but you wanted things your way, telling me you read a book and shit. But now a pretty woman tells you and you're rushing to do what she says." 

Guero walked towards the shore, making sure to flick water at you as he took different bait from the box, "You wanna tell me how you know all of this and I don't?" 

You blinked, "I wasn't the only one, it's not a my fault you don't listen to me or your father." 

Guero smirked, "I listen to you where it counts." 

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't ignore the snicker that his dad gave, "Please shut up before I drown you." 

He turned to his father and inhaled in fake offence, "Do you hear how she talks to me Pops?" 

Ibarra shook his head, "You deserve it son, you got a big mouth." 

Your eyes widen in agreement, "Doesn't he? Holy shit, sometimes he won't shut up." Guero gave you a look and you held up a hand, "I know what you're about to say and if the words come out of your mouth I'm going to drown you for sure." 

He chuckled, "I wasn't going to say anything." 

Ibarra's hearty chuckle followed, "Yes, you were, it was as obvious as something can be." 

You shook your head, "Ok if this keeps going, I will drown myself." Still, you knew that look on Guero's face, "You are incorrigible." 

He smiled, "You love me." 

You sighed, "Yes, I do. Now please catch us food. I'm freezing my ass off over here and I know for sure I packed enough food to last us, so I'm only standing here to preserve your ego." 

He hands his father a chunk of bait before baiting his hook and throwing the line, "How did you know about the bait anyway? You hate camping." 

"One, we're not camping, we're staying in a cabin and two, I like to be prepared, so I talked to the bait shop attendant." You pointed to the box, "There's even stuff in there for crayfish since I bought a pamphlet for how to build traps from sticks and leaves and I thought you might like to try it." 

Ibarra smiled, "How thoughtful. That would be great y/n, I love crayfish." 

Guero turned to you and mouthed, "Kissass." But his eye betrayed how much he appreciated the amount of investment you had put towards this vacation. 

There was a change in the light and you looked up, the clouds growing even more ominous, "We're about to get a storm so you two better hurry up." 

Guero chuckled, "So you can predict the weather now? Tell me oh wise one, what other powers do you...." The skies opened in a torrent of water, "I stand corrected." 

You sighed, "I'd say you've got about twenty minutes before the thunder starts." 

"We'll have a fish by then." Guero sounded so sure of himself that there was no point in dissenting and sure enough, when the first crack of thunder came across the sky, Guero's rod jerked, "I told you." 

After a few mighty heaves, it was out of the water and dispatched humanely and Ibarra reeled in his line and sighed, "Alright then, can we go inside before we're hit by lightning." 

"Please, I'm freezing to death." You were so cold you swore your fingers were going to fall off. 

 Guero chuckled, "Hell yeah." 

Everyone headed inside and wrapped themselves in towels, "I'm going to clean and prep that fish and have a shower, no touches it." 

"I caught it, don't you think I should be the one to cook it." He was as smug as ever. 

Your eyes went wide, "No fucking way. A light and sweet river fish this fresh only has two preparation, baked with crispy skin or poisson en papillote. The oven here isn't powerful enough to bake it properly so poisson en papillote is it." 

Guero looked at you with such affection that you felt your heart might burst, "I have no idea what poisson en papillote but there was enough passion in your voice to let me know I should give up." 

Ibarra smiled, "It's French for fish in paper. It's really nice." 

Guero snorted, "Since when did you two get so fancy?" 

You sighed, "Please finely slice some onions. If you've got time to be all judgy, then you have time to help." 

Guero smirked, "I can do that." 

****

"Thish is sho good, you have to coo thish all the time." 

You shook your head, "Guero, don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude." 

"It is very good, all that time in the rain was worth it." You could tell Ibarra was trying extra hard, he knew how much his son loved you, and he wanted to make the most of the time away. 

You nodded, "I don't think I've ever cooked with fish that fresh, maybe tomorrow we can try and get some crayfish."

Guero suppressed a smile, "Look at you two getting along, and here I thought y/n was rude to everyone. I guess it's just me." 

You huffed in mock offence, "I am not rude to you, I just don't worship the ground you walk on like the other women you've spent you time with." The glare you fixed him stopped him from quipping back, "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're big mouth is going to get you into trouble one day." 

Ibarra, "It's already got him into plenty. Do you know about the time he landed in the principle's office for talking shit to a cop that came by the school to give a career talk?" 

"No, but I'm hoping you're going to tell me now." You weren't going to lie, you were hoping Ibarra would provide you at least one embarrassing story before you made your way back to SP. 

Guero chuckled, "Oh, you're having so much fun aren't you." 

You nodded, "Fuck yeah." 

****

The night wound down, this fish picked clean and the bread pudding Ibarra gone in one sitting. You tended to the fire in your room and shivered as Guero came up behind you, "Let me do that Mi amor." 

You pressed your lips to his cheek as you headed to the bed, moaning as the warmth from the heated blanket surrounded your skin, "You turned it on?" 

He nodded, "Of course. I can't have you going to bed cold now, can I?" 

With the fire stoked, he climbed into bed and rested on his back next to you and just as he got comfortable, you stretched your cold foot across the bed and brushed him with it, "Jesus Christ." 

 You flipped onto your side, "I'm cold, and you're warm, you should do something about that." 

Guero sighed and freed himself of his shirt before reaching over and manhandling yours off, after that, he pulled you into his arms so your skin was pressed again his, "Better?" 

You nodded, "Yep." 

He ran a hand up and down your back and rubbed your nose with his, "This is the closest we've been all day." 

You pecked his cheek, "Yeah I know, but I don't really want to make out with you in front of your father." 

He smiled, "It's not like he hasn't seen some shit." 

You huffed, "Next time he can bring someone and then it won't be awkward." 

Guero's eyebrows furrowed, "On second thought." 

You shook your head, "I have spent the whole day missing touching you." 

"Yeah?" He sounded so smug, "Maybe there's something I can do for that?"

"Nope, we're going to bed." As much as you wanted to, you had no idea how thin the walls were. 

He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled, "Alright Mi amor, I love you." 

"Goodnight Guero, I love you too." 

Fin

@withmyteeth @daydreaming-belle

#mayans mc #guero fanfic #guero x reader #guero mayans #guero #andrew jacobs #mayans

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 9. Guero

A/N: im trying my best to complete my list for this fall season. In MY brain winter doesn’t start until December hits and winter isn’t officially until late December which blows my mind every time I look it up lol but don’t come at me X-mas lovers because I get it! just don’t bring that Holly jolly bs my way just yet 😉!!! Anyways missed my man so he’s next up for this short thing.

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: “Please, I’m begging you. don’t make me watch the nightmare before Christmas again.”

WARNINGS: language, family drama, mentions of violence, + slightly sexual content towards the bottom.

⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

“Fucking bitch makes me sick!” You huff as you flail the bed sheet up into the air for what should have been the fifth time.

Guero is smirking to himself, fresh out of the shower in his lounge wear, leaning against the doorframe that leads back into the bathroom.

You just got back from your outing with your sister-in-law and niece maybe twenty minutes ago but Guero figured things must have gone left when he heard you mumbling to yourself while he was drying off. He even called out to you through the crack of the door as he got dressed asking who you were talking to, since he didn’t see you on the phone and you didn’t hesitate to continue your rants.

“What she do this time?” Guero questions, knowing this tangent was aimed at your sister-in-law, since you only tolerated her and adored your niece.

Throwing the sheet against the mattress in frustration you whip around to face your boyfriend, “what doesn’t she do?! You know how she is.”

Guero nodded his head. He did in fact know how your sister-in-law was and he also didn’t care for her either—not just because you didn’t fuck with her but they got into a debate about guns that left a sour taste in Guero’s mouth. He didn’t have to engage with her much like you did but he definitely listened every time you vented that she annoyed the shit out of you…so in a sense she was still around him too.

He waited for you to continue as you began pacing now, “was I not tasked a week ago to get Ely her dress for the fall dance because her mother’s dumbass was too busy partying with her best friend of a mayor—who’s she’s probably screwing and my brother’s oblivious ass was too tied up with work?”

Eloise, or as you both called her, “Ely,” was your twelve year old niece that was just getting into fragrances and dresses—which was a complete contrast to her mother. It was no shock to you that her mother, Reagan put that off on you since she wasn’t the most stylish and didn’t really connect to her daughter in that way.

“Hell yeah you were,“ Guero said, “you were almost as excited as Ely was. What went down?”

You turned to work at the sheets again, straightening them out in the air and failing to get them to fit on the corners, “I go to this lunch date with them just to find out Reagan returned the dress! Said it was too inappropriate to wear to a middle school dance. And that I was trying to make Ely to look like a hoe since she’s already top heavy.”

Guero frowned, “the one you showed me a pic of? That little burgundy shit with the puff sleeves and flows at the bottom? I don’t get what was wrong with it? Ely looked pretty and happy in it.”

“Yes! Nothing was wrong with it! It wasn’t too tight or short. Reagan was all smiles when I dropped Ely off that night too, almost thankful that I got something done that her ass should have been doing.” You hissed and balled up the sheets out of frustration.

Guero stepped in then, gently prying the sheets from your hands to put the sheet on the bed correctly. It was something you mentioned on your first date that you were always criticized for not making your bed right as a kid so your potential significant other had to be down with at least putting the sheets on.

Childhood trauma was a true bitch…much like sister-in-law’s apparently.

Guero repeated, “So Reagan went and returned it?”

“Yeah and I think she truly did it out of spite because you won’t believe the dress she got Ely,” you informed with your arms crossed, watching as Guero put the sheets on with ease, “she’s gonna make my niece look like a pilgrim at that dance.”

Guero glanced at you, “that bad?”

“And I told her straight to her face when she showed me a video, that the dress Ely originally picked out was much more fitting than that floor length dress. I wasn’t rude about it or anything.”

“Floor-length? Nah, that’s crazy. What she say after that?”

“That I wouldn’t know the first thing about appropriate wear considering what I wore when I first met you.”

Guero furrowed his brows, “fuck is she getting at with that? We met at the damn fair in hot ass Arizona!”

“Exactly,” you agreed, “the fact that she even remembered that back then let’s me know that she’s been keeping tabs on me just to talk shit and probably about me to Ely too but I don’t care! She can run her mouth all she wants but don’t try to take your insecurities out on Ely. That’s when it becomes a problem for me.”

Regan was a jealous person, you peeped that from the first day you met her unwillingly at your seventeenth birthday party. She barely let your brother mingle alone without interjecting herself into their conversations and this was after she was already introduced to family and friends. You knew she wasn’t the person for your older brother, Kelvin but he insisted on settling for her after getting his heartbroken by an ex who cheated on him and fell in love with his (then) best friend during their college years. He didn’t give himself enough time to heal right before he was back into another relationship with the very set in her ways Reagan. There was a five year age gap between you and your brother and sure you didn’t understand it all back then but you were always aware that your brother tended to love long.

As siblings you didn’t always see eye to eye and when he did bring his serious significant others around you were open to them opposed to him who gave yours the third degree. Just because you were his little sister didn’t mean you wouldn’t look out for him either. The moment you expressed your doubts of Reagan being the woman of his dreams, he decides he’s going to propose to her despite their heavy arguments of not being trusting of each other or really in love.

Eloise wasn’t far behind after the wedding if you connect the dots.

It was odd to you that you always got scolded for voicing your opinions on your brother’s well-being by your parents, that you were always expected to keep your mouth shut and just follow along but that same energy was not reciprocated when it came to Kelvin. He was the older brother, he was “supposed,” to set the standard for you but at the same time you would always be different people.

Funny how that turned out now with your parents not wanting to be bothered with Reagan but preferred your four year going strong relationship with Javier “Guero,” Bardales.

“She’s the fucken worse,” Guero says fixing his side of the bed after you retrieved the duvet from the bay window seat, “was the kid messed up about it?”

“Oh absolutely, it was written all over her face and you know how she shields her true personality away when her mom’s around,” you say then clench your jaw which would probably trigger your TMJ later but you continue, “I’m so pissed with Reagan. Of course kids can’t always get their way but you don’t have to shit all over their enjoyment because of your own personal problems!”

“Did you tell Kel about it?” Guero smacks the pillow against the headboard, already sensing that was a lost cause.

He was just waiting for the day that Kel kicked Reagan to the curb. Now listen, Guero wasn’t down with divorce, given that his own parents went through it and it resulted in lost time Guero got to spend with his own dad but…Guero actually liked Kel, although he gave him shit from the very beginning he walked into your life but they grew to actually like each other. Guero had his own fun and deep conversations with Kel, noticing that he was also most like himself whenever Reagan wasn’t around. And one thing about Guero, if he saw someone he cared about being held back by someone else? he was always ready to do something about it; especially if the person was capable but taking too long to go through with some action.

Guero was a actions kinda guy.

“For what? That’s like talking to a brick wall and I’d rather save my breath.” You responded placing your hands on your hips before a smile spread over your lips.

Guero stared at the wicked expression on your face, “…what’d you do? We gotta hide the body?”

You snickered and then let out a sigh, “That time hasn’t come yet but my breaking point is among the Horizon I fear.”

Here you go with the dramatic stare off into the distance for a moment that it has Guero jumping onto the bed to get to you. The anticipation was bugging him and you were well aware as you kept smiling at him.

Resting your hands on his shoulders you said, “I went back and repurchased the dress and snipped the tags off. Reagan’s going away that same day as the dance to some conference in D.C. so obviously Ely’s gonna get ready here instead with her little girlies and non-binary friends.”

Guero wasn’t thrilled about some pre-teens being at his shared spot with you but the expression on your face made him ignore that.

“That’s what I’m talking’ about baby! Fuck what Bride of Chucky has to say, you’re more of a mother to Ely anyways.” Guero hyped you up as he gripped the sides of your neck to place a kiss right in between your brows.

You brushed your shoulders off, “and if she finds out and decides to get buck with me, I got something for that ass. She just doesn’t know that I’ve been counting on the day.”

Guero knew you meant that too and that made him smile. He was never above violence, it was always fuck around and find out in his mind. He’s been by your side for four years now and knew it took a lot to drive you to that point but he always encouraged you to speak up for yourself too since it was always conditioned for you to keep it all locked in.

Not when it came to Reagan though and he knew you had it in you, hearing of the fights you got into in your teenage years (one story consisted of: aged sixteen banging some girl’s face into the pavement, a story your father told him about—and another : aged thirteen with you jumping in to fight some older guys that tried to jump your brother at his high school graduation party—just to name two of Guero’s favorite stories) and a recent road rage incident that happened two years ago which almost sent Guero into cardiac arrest.

So his girl was never no pussy, don’t let the face fool you.

Guero instigated, “I dunno…ain’t she on a softball team?”

“She was until she fucked up her rotator cuff.” You gave the man a dark stare, “you think beer muscles scare me?”

Guero snickered and put his hands up in surrender, “relax baby, I’m just fucking with you. No need to go assassin on me.”

“You want me to be one so bad.” You rolled your eyes as Guero reaches out to slip his hands over your hips.

He has no shame in his game as he nods his heads at you, “oh yeah, listen it’ll be the dream costume, huh?”

“You just want to see me in more leather.”

“Yeah I do.” Guero laughs before nipping your bottom lip.

You flick your French curls over your shoulder as you drape your wrists behind Guero’s head, leaning to brush your lips against his ear you state, “that’s just too bad, daddy.”

Guero let out a groan as you untangle yourself from him, hand going right to his chest, almost as if you just stabbed him while he flops back onto the bed. “Such a tease and these are the things I get when I just made the damn bed?”

“Oh the horror! Oh the bare minimum!” You joke as you plop on the edge of the king sized bed after locating the remote for the mounted flat screen, “that’s what you get for not being my bone daddy last year.”

Guero sits up on his elbows, “you’re still pressed about that? Baby I got enough art on my skin already, now why would you want to decorate this handsome face? Which is my best art piece.” He winks at you as you scoff at him from over your shoulder.

Shushing the man, you don’t grant him with a response as the movie begins to roll the credits and you start to bounce from side to side at the music.

Guero glares at the tv, “please, I’m begging you. Don’t make me watch the nightmare before Christmas again.”

Ever since late September hit, you started off with the light hearted fall themed movies first. This was your third time now watching the nightmare before Christmas and Halloween wasn’t even near! Now if Guero suggested watching something like, “Terrifier,” then you’d be ready to kick him out the house or go sleep at a friend’s instead.

“This is my comfort movie, let me vibe.”

Guero sighs, sitting up to sit beside you to glance at the screen before settling his eyes back on you. It had to be a good solid two minutes of Guero just watching you that even when you tried to grip his chin to face the tv again, he wouldn’t budge.

Stubborn ass.

“You know, I could be your comfort too.” He places his hand right on your thigh.

“Don’t worry you already are,” you say eyes still locked on the screen with your fingers holding onto his jaw, “if you weren’t, I would have been dropped your ass.”

Guero breathed out a laugh as he quickly gets to his feet and yanks you up, “Oh so like this?”

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being lifted over Guero’s shoulder just to be slammed right back onto the bed. “You’ll never be my Roman reigns.” You puffed out.

Guero kisses his biceps before turning his expression serious, “and he’ll never get to touch this belt, which will always be mine just so you know.”

You smirk up at Guero as he gets to work unfastening the belt on your low-rise jeans.

And when you’re bare, exposed to the fall chilliness in the air of your bedroom, you keep your eyes on Guero as he places open-mouthed kisses with his incredibly soft lips against your lower belly. He trails a feather-like touch against the side of your ass as he knocked your right thigh to the side so he can get better adjusted.

“Whatchu looking at me for? Eyes on the movie, remember babe?” Guero says with his lips right above your throbbing center.

His reaches a hand right between the valley of your pale pink sweater covered breasts to grip your jaw to tilt upwards instead.

You weren’t sure how this man thought you were supposed to be focused on the iconic film when there were so many sensations going on. From the light scratches of the copper leaves against the bedroom window, the softness of the moss colored duvet, the theatrics of the soundtrack playing from the classic animation film, and the firm but solace grip of a loved one’s touch…it was all just what you needed to get by.

⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

Continue with my fall anthology prompts here.

#queued #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc x reader #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #guero mayans mc #Guero Mayans #andrew jacobs #fall prompts #mayans season 5

[qotsthings]

Gut feeling

a/n: so i'm really rusty but there's barely any fics with james so i made this. it's probably really bad but 🤷‍♀️

female reader x james valdez 🤍 kinda angsty but only very slightly :)

N/N: nickname

You noticed the way James was with Teresa. Like all the stars and the moon from the skies were placed into his eyes, he lightened up when she entered a room. Physically, mentally, emotionally, he was always better when she was around. And that part hurt you more than you'd like to say. So badly your heart yearned to be the one he desired, the one he would come to after a bad or good day, the one he would hug after a long day. And you couldn't because you could never amount to Teresa. She was there through it all and you weren't.

You never were

The day came and went and darkness trickled all over the sky, illuminating the cities and all it's inhabitants. Leaning against the work surfaces, your eyes were glued to the city. Everyone bustling and walking, going to their little sanctuary or perhaps bearing the worst news they've ever received.

Who knew

"You love him, don't you?" A deep rumbling voice fills your ears and you whirl around, hand on the hilt of your gun aimed dangerously at the stranger. An irritable sigh passed your lips at the stranger, placing your gun by its rightful place.

Pote has his arms in defense, chuckling as his hands came to rest on the belt of his trousers

"Could've knocked, Pote" You sigh, turning swiftly around. You're in the mood to talk and he catches on, standing beside you.

"You didn't answer my question" he answers gruffly, nudging you a little. Theres a smirk on his face but it's paired with concern, worry for you.

"I don't love him, in fact I don't even like him" You try to laugh it off but your tone betrays you.

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?" Pote raises a brow and you roll your eyes, your heart thudding in your chest. You hated how good he could read you, it annoyed you to no end.

"Listen N/N, be careful in this world. Pleasure and business must never be mixed, it will only lead to danger. For you and for the rest of us" His hand comes up to touch your shoulder, his stare penetrative

"I know. I'm always careful. I've no intention of pursuing anything, he doesn't even love me" A sad chuckle emits from your throat and Pote reaches forward again

"What's that about love?" The pair of you jump as four more figures enter the room.

"No.... nothing" you glance at Pote quickly and he nods, his lips are sealed. Teresa looks at you quizzically but doesn't say anything, her hand laced with Guero. Kelly Anne rambles about something to Pote but you don't give any interest, instead busying yourself with your phone. Another patter of footsteps enter the room and your heartbeat races.

You could recognise his footsteps from miles away, his cologne filling the room. Normally you would've enveloped him into a hug but you stay put, not wanting to even look at him. In fear of falling harder than you're already are

"Shipments on its way" James confirms and Teresa nods a smile on her face as Guero leans in to kiss her cheek.

"Perfect. Y/N?" Teresa looks to you and you nod, hopping off the counter.

"I'll pick it up" You grab your jacket, strapping your gun to your waist.

"James will come with, in case of an emergency" And before you could even protest, the room was empty and only James stood in front of you

"If we want to make it dawn, we'll have to leave now" James cracks a smile but a neutral expression paints your features. His smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, so pure and so sincere. It almost pains you to have to put this front to protect yourself when you so badly want to let him in. But you have to, even though your heart screams at you. Your brain is in charge here and you let it.

"Let's go then" you walk by him, but he gently grabs your wrist stopping you in place. His brow is raised and he chews his words carefully, so many words he wants to say to you but none of them seem quite right. So he tries his luck and says the question that knaws at him the most.

"Have I done something?" He asks softly and you remove his grip from you. Your skin tingles from where he touched you, aching for more but you know better. His heart belongs to Teresa, you know that. You know its pointless to have any feelings for him, only you'll be rejected at the end of it. And you're not so sure your heart could go through that

"Let's go" You repeat one more, your voice shaking at the end of your sentence but you disguise it with a cough hoping he won't see through your cracked facade.

And with that, your heeled boots clack with every step away

#james valdez #qots #james valdez x reader #james valdez imagine #james valdez fanfiction #queen of the south #qots fanfiction