#mayans mc angst

[thisreadswhatever]

His Best Friend's Sister

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[summary]: as Opie’s little sister, you never really had a chance with Jax. but with a plan to make him jealous one night at Diosa, you're hoping you can change all of that.

[cw]: 18+, flirting, slight angst, smut, younger reader (just out of college), pet names, oral f receiving, choking, biting, mildly rough sex, spelling/grammar errors throughout

[an]: this is based off of this request (thank you!) - it took so long to finish as i was struggling to write for awhile. it’s not as rough smut wise as it could’ve been but for my first one in a few months it could’ve been worse. anyways now it’s complete i think it may be one of my favourite things i’ve wrote for jax! hope you enjoy. requests are always welcomed - they really help me gain some confidence in my writing. if you’d like to be tagged in future works please lmk :)

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, brother?”

Jax was perched against the door of the men’s bathroom in Diosa.

“If my sister’s going to be with any outlaw, I guess it’s better off being my best friend.”

Jax was amused at this, smirking as he pushed Opie in the shoulder. “As far as outlaws I’d say I’m a pretty big catch.”

Opie scoffed while he zipped up his jeans, “Just don’t break her heart, or I’ll have to break your jaw.” Jax grinned at his best friend, “fair enough.”

You’d known Jax since you were both little kids, and between him and Opie, you always felt like just the pestering little sister, even if you were only two years younger than them. Once you’d graduated college and moved back to Charming, you’d realised just how much you liked Jax. He wasn’t like any guy you’d met at college, and you were crushing.. hard. It had been weeks of playing it cool, and you were done with the act. Tonight you had put on your best dress for Chib’s birthday party at Diosa, and you were going to make Jax see you weren’t just Opie’s annoying little sister anymore.

He walked in from the back rooms with Opie, laughing and running his hands through his hair, rings on every other finger. There was just something about Jax. You pretended you didn’t see him, but any chick with eyes would’ve looked. Melissa, one of the Diosa girls that you’d recently become friends with, had noticed him arrive too.

“Well if your plan doesn’t work in that dress, you got no chance.”

You’d wore the sexiest dress you had, a black short formed velvet dress with tiny straps and the tightest push up bra you could find.

“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve worn a dress in front of him. He probably won’t notice me at all.”

Nonetheless, you did what you could to catch his eye. You shimmied on your seat towards the bar to make sure Jax could see you, and maybe he could catch a glimpse of your best assets flaunting with the help of your bra. You glanced over at him, wishing he’d glance back so you could lock eyes, yet he was clearly preoccupied by the heated discussion Tig and Bobby were having.

Melissa sighed, “we gotta go for plan B.”

You had no clue what she meant. “Hey Lucas, get over here.” You shifted your view from Jax to her, shocked by whatever she was conjuring up.

“What the fuck are you doing Melissa?”

“You want Jax to notice you?”

“By talking to a prospect?”

“Just shut up and do what I say.” If she wasn’t your closest friend here, you would’ve punched her. Lucas had only been a prospect with the club for a few months, he was shy and in your opinion, a little too innocent looking to be an outlaw. He stood beside your table, unsure what it was he was there for.

“Hey ladies. What can I do for ya?”

“Why don’t you sit down? We don’t bite.” Poor Lucas was melting at the flirty smile Melissa flashed his way. He shrugged and wedged himself on the empty chair placed at the edge of the table, right beside you. You almost felt bad for him.

Almost. Because it was that very moment that you glanced at Jax, and realised he was looking over now, directly at you, smiling while sipping his beer. Your heart started to race.

“What do you think of y/n’s dress?” She must’ve really wanted you to punch her. How the fuck was this going to get you Jax? Lucas pulled at the collar of his shirt, clearly wary that whatever the answer, he was in for it.

“It’s smokin’. Is that all you called me over here for?” Melissa nudged you on the side, pushing you closer to Lucas. “We just thought you may wanna get to know y/n a little better. Seeming as you’re new to the club and all.” You weren’t sure if Lucas looked delighted at the attention or like he wanted to run for the hills.

Melissa whispered in your ear, “It’s working.”

You looked over your shoulder back to the bar, and she was right, Jax hadn’t taken his eyes off you. You decided to play into it a little more. “Hey Lucas, did you know there’s a room out the back that is completely sound proofed?” Melissa gawked at your blunt question. Okay, maybe that was too far. “Umm.. no...” You leaned into him, placing your hand on his leg. “Yep, wanna see?” Lucas gulped and stood up. “Sure, why not.” You smiled at him and held your hand out for him to take, and you both headed towards the back rooms. You didn’t so much as peak at Melissa, but you did look at Jax. He was still watching, as you left the lobby, hand in hand with Lucas.

“This is the room. Pretty cool, huh?” You walked along the velvet wall frame, covered in grey foam squares. The room was large and full of red silk and tapestry. Lucas trailed behind you, closing the door as he followed. “Why would there be sound proofing at a massage parlour?” You laughed, the poor kid really was as naive as he was innocent. “This isn’t a massage parlour, silly.” You were about to explain, until there was a loud knock at the door. Before anyone could answer it, Jax walked in. “Club business out back, prospect. Tig’s looking for you.” Lucas practically ran, nodding at Jax as he left, slamming the door behind him.

And just like that, you were alone. With Jax. For the first time. Ever.

“Hi, Jax.” was all you could get out.

“Hey there, darlin.”

“Club business? Now?” You sat down on the edge of the bed, brutally aware of how high the skin on your thighs were now exposed from the already too short dress. Jax ignored your question as he sat down right next to you, twirling a lighter in his hands. “What exactly were you doing in here with the prospect?” You couldn’t lie to Jax, you were smart enough to know he’d see right through it. You also couldn’t tell him how you’d used the poor innocent soul to make him jealous either. “He wanted to see the room. I was being courteous.” Jax couldn’t contain the laughter now, “Courteous? He looked like his face was gonna melt off.”

Jax stood up and leaned back on his heels, plainly drinking you in with his eyes.

“Were you always this hot?”

Your heart started to race again, crimson filled your cheeks, but you knew you had to play it cool. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Jax smiled back at you. “I never really noticed before. Being Ope’s sister kinda means you’re off limits.” Great. Still in little sister territory. “Then why are you here?”

He was walking to the other side of the room before he sat on the love seat in the far corner. “I wanted to check out the sound proofing.” He was highly amused.

“Very funny.” You figured he was just fucking with you, so you got up from the bed, heading for the door.

“Wait, don’t go.” Jax rushed to stand inbetween you and the doorway, blocking your exit. “I’m only messing with you babe. I’m here cos I couldn’t let Lucas have the hottest girl in Charming.”

“What’s it to you if I’m ‘off limits’..”

The gap between you and Jax was slimming so much you were sure he could hear your heart pounding through your chest. “Play it cool, play it cool” was all you kept repeating to yourself.

“That was before I told Ope I want you to be my old lady. And before I saw you seducing the prospects-“, Jax closed what space was remaining between you, “but I guess if you’d rather have a prospect I could leave you lovebirds to it..”

You shook your head. “Lucas is cute and all but you’re pretty alright too.” Jax leaned into you smiling, turning his back from the door. You moved with him, until you were the one with your back against the door, and Jax so close you could feel his chest moving with each breath. “I definitley don’t want to share you with Lucas.” He was so matter of fact. His nose was touching yours, your body’s morphing into one from the closeness. Fuck.

“Then make me all yours.”

Jax pulled his weight into you, pressing you firmly against the door. You grabbed his cut and pulled him tighter, if that were even possible, securing every inch of your body against his. You wrapped your hands into his blonde hair, tugging at the strands, before pulling your mouth to his. You had to stretch on your toes to reach him, using his hair to bring him closer to your level. He kissed you back with intent, his breath warm and smelling of cigarettes and beer, and you couldn’t get enough. Moans escaped between your lips as his hands travelled all over your dress, pushing you even further into the door so you could feel his hard on rubbing against you.

He pulled your hands from his hair, pinning them above your head to the door. He secured you there with one hand, and used his other to trail his fingers down your chest and stomach, pulling the fabric of your dress higher and higher. He kept his hand against your thigh, gnawing at the skin between your legs, all while kissing your neck as he moved towards your ear. “I like you like this”, he whispered. You groaned at the sound of his praise. This all just felt too good to be true.

He tugged the skin of your thighs tighter and the sensation sent tingles through your core, like a fire was burning in your hips towards your mound. It was all too much. “Holy shit, Jax. Just fuck me already.”

He giggled into your neck and suddenly your hands were released, with your feet lifted off the ground as Jax threw you on the bed. He was standing over you, pulling the buckle from his belt in his jeans. “Mmmm.. well maybe I like you like this better. Take off those panties.” You did as he said, knowing you would follow every instruction he ever gave you without a second thought. You wiggled out of your laced briefs while you lay there, before balling them up and throwing them at him. Jax caught them with one hand, and put them in his back pocket before pulling his jeans off. “What about my dress?” you asked playfully. He knelt down beside the bed, extending his hands to feel you under the dress that was now barely clinging to your body, before sliding them down to your legs and spreading them wide. “Stay just like that.”

He pulled at your hips and slid your body down the length of the bed until you were just hanging off the edge. You whimpered at the touch of his tongue to your soaking pussy. Jax was lapping up every inch of you, and you could feel the pressure mounting between your legs in response. “Jax- fuck- please.” It was all too much. The kneading of your thighs beneath his fingers as he pulled you further into his mouth, his tongue circling and sucking and pulling your clit over and over and over and over. You were almost at the brink of relief when Jax pulled away, smirking at you from the bedside. “Ever since I saw you in that dress I wanted to have my head under it.” He hovered over you, licking his lips before planting them on yours, making you taste every drip of your drenched pussy. You couldn’t take much more.

“Don’t make me beg, Jax.” You could barely get the words out between the gasps of air and his relentless tongue encapsulating yours.

“You don’t have to beg darling’, I’m going to take you so fucking bad.”

Jax pulled his cock from his briefs and slid into you before you could even respond, pounding his length into you while pressing your neck with his hand, choking you into the bed. “Fuck- you’re- so- big.” Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the fullness inside of you. You wrapped your hands around his arm securing his to your neck, craving more. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, holding it open as he repeatedly thrusted into you. “Show me what your mouth can do, baby.” You did as he said, sucking and caressing his thumb with your tongue as he lifted your legs from the bed, pulling him deeper inside you. You whimpered and bit on his thumb to stop the noises pouring from your throat, before he removed his hand from your neck. He leant down into you, kissing you while fucking you, pulling your dress to expose your breasts.

“Don’t need to be quiet in a sound proofed room babe. I want to hear you.” His words took you over the edge, and you came together simultaneously. Jax collapsed to your side.

“Holy fuck, Jax.” You couldn’t get anymore words out. He grinned at you as you giggled, embarrassed at your lack of words.

Jax kissed you before grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks at this point must’ve been the furthest shade of red imaginable. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t real.”

“Better believe it babe. And I’m not even done with you yet.”

#jax teller angst #jax teller smut #jax teller x reader #jax teller fluff #jax teller x y/n #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy #jax teller fiction #jax teller morrow #charlie hunnam #mayans x reader #mayans mc #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy smut #jax teller #multifandom #smut #fan fiction #sister #best friends #+18 only #smut imagine #rough smut #angst #jax teller fan fic #jax teller one shot #fluff #jax teller y/n #jax teller imagine #reads whatever writes

[theesirenteller]

Grocery Store Paternity

↫↫↫ 𝕸𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝕲𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖔 𝖝 𝕺𝖈! 𝕬𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖙 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊 ↬↬↬

"D'elia? ¿Cómo estás?  Ha pasado mucho tiempo."

Who would've thought that going to pick up a bag of frozen plantains would have the average person end up running into the devil? Most wouldn't think so. But for D'elia Wren, she should've known this day would come. Especially being in Santo Padre. Miguel Galindo was the devil to many. and D'elia was no different. Even since she was fifteen, he terrorized her body and mind. His love for the gringa was the only thing that saved her. Funny how now that didn't feel like such a blessing. 

D'elia stared at him wide-eyed with a clenched jaw. Her throat dry as she bit at the side of her bottom lip. Her hands shook against the cool rod of the cart's handlebar. She could feel the warm and wet sensation of tears start to form in the corner of her eyes. 

"Mom, can I have these, please! It's watermelon and jalapeno flavored!" The familiar squeaky voice felt the comfort of an angel. Which caused D'elia to snap out of her frozen state and turn her attention to the child at her side.

"Uhm, yes of course." D'elia agreed with a forced smile. She nearly snatched the candy bag out of her daughter's hands due to how fast she grabbed it before tossing it into the cart.

Miguel raised an eyebrow as he looked at the child. Watching the two in both curiosity and amusement. When the girl turned to face him and offered the man a polite smile; he felt his world stop and his blood run cold. She had the same smile and eyes as his mother.  She had her mother's vibrant, golden-umber brown skin, full lips, and nose. Everything else screamed Galindo to Miguel. An uncanny resemblance that couldn't be ignored. 

"Hola! I'm-"

"Excuse us." The poor girl was cut off by her mother before she had the time to be polite. D'elia lifted the child up with little to no distress and rolled her cart with her other hand. "Mommy, I'm not a baby!", the child pouted and squirmed. Her whining could be heard through the aisles as well as her mother's hushing.

"Get Davante to pull up her records over the last eight to ten years. Have Chino and Mateo follow her." Miguel ordered Nestor before continuing on with his shopping. 

D'elia and the nameless child haven't left his mind since that day. Days turned into three weeks and three weeks turned into three months before Miguel decided to take action and make a trip to confront D'elia. He hadn't informed Emily of anything and he doubted she would care about his sudden coldness and distance from her. Cristobal was all that he focused on when inside the Galindo home. The thought of his son having an older sister and him having a second child, a daughter. One that wasn't from his wife was…complicated. Both joyous and frightening. He could've turned a blind eye. And a part of him wanted to. Cristobal had been in enough danger and Miguel didn't want to put another child through that. But, then again the girl was his child and D'elia. Well, she was damaged goods and one of four of his deepest regrets. The things he'd done to her in his early twenties whilst she was only a minor…made his stomach turn. But in a distorted way…he cared for her. The way a pet owner cared for its dog. Now, it was too late to turn a blind eye. Miguel was now in San Francisco, standing in front of a brownstone building with Nestor and Davante by his sides.  

The tumblers of the locks clicked open and instead of a look of surprise, D'elia stood there with an indifferent look across her face. "Three men for one woman? Gee, I really must be a lot to handle." she greeted with dry humor before stepping aside.

Miguel sent her a subtle smile before ordering Nestor and Devante to wait in the car. "You're hard to tame but not hard to handle." He replied. The two story apartment was more spacious than he imagined. Downstairs, the living room where he guided into was subtly minimalistic. Painted a deep shade of purple with various accents of burnt orange lingering around. Like the couch that he sat on.

"What do you know? What do you want, Miguel?" D'elia immediately questioned as soon as she was seated. 

"Do you welcome all your guests this way?" Miguel chastised. 

"You ain't no damn guest." She shot back.

A rasped chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head "Fair enough." he then smoothed out his black suit jacket, "I know Alejandra is my daughter. I know she's eight years old and was born in Iowa. Mainly, one of those witness protection programs. I know you ratted out that whorehouse on the outskirts of Santo Padre to get you and her out of their…and away from me." his thumbs brushed over the gold ring on his fingers.

"She might be your daughter by blood but she's not your kid." D'elia replied stubbornly. "And your deep dive turned out to be right. That whore house and bitch Maria were the reasons kids like me were offered up to assholes like you. Just because you brought a little designer and some expensive jewelry around me doesn't mean you weren't as sick as the rest of those bastards who came around." her tone seething with venom and disgust.

"Fifteen was hardly a kid and don't you forget anyone one of those girls would've been happy to take your spot." Miguel argued.

"And I wish it had been one of them." D'elia hissed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two of them. The pair now glaring at one another with mixed emotions.  Miguel's left eye slightly twitched and his expression sat cold until he smiled. 

"Look, I don't want any trouble D'elia. I simply want what every man wants…his family together. You don't have to be in Santo Padre but Alejandra will know I'm her father and she'll know her brother and all of the Galindo family." The smile across his lips never matched the dark expression within his eyes.

 He stood up from his seat and stalked his way towards her which caused D'elia to tense up. "And I'd hate for her to be brought into the family without you. A girl needs her mother and well..step-mothers can be a hard adjustment at her age." His large palm patted against D'elia's shoulder as he placed a kiss on her cheek, "You look beautiful by the way."  his warm breath hit the shell of her earlobe.

D'elia tightly gripped at the sides of her loveseat as her blood ran cold. She fought back tears of anger and instead nodded her head. "Okay." If he wanted to play…then they could play.

"Great," His smile now dazzling and bright, "I'll be in touch so make sure to answer your phone." with that Miguel made his way to the foyer before letting himself out. The thought of getting rid of Emily and starting his family over was fresh in his mind.

#Miguel Galindo drabble #miguel galindo #mayans mc #mayans mc fics #mayans fanfic #mayans fx #danny pino #angst drabble

[imagininghim]

Drunk Dialling

A/N: I have heard the song Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan so much on Tik Tok lately. Everytime I hear it I picture Ez, so of course I had to make a story about it.

I hope you enjoy!

Like, comment, reblog!

~~ Flashback ~~

"Swear Ez, it's always the same with you!" She screamed at me, continuing to throw her clothes in a suitcase.

"Mi amour, please we can talk about this!" I said taking ahold of her wrist in attempt to stop her from packing.

"No! It's always the same with you! Club this, Angel that! When is it gonna be me?" She said pulling her wrist from my grasp. I stood there speechless, unsure of what to say. With a sigh, she threw the last of her clothes into the suitcase and zipped it up. "That's what I thought, goodbye Ezekiel." And with that, she picked up the suitcase and walked out the door.

I stayed there and watched her walk out, hoping I would wake up from this nightmare.

~~ End of flashback ~~

It was a regular Friday night at the club, we had been throwing another party. I was sitting at the bar alone, sipping on my fourth or fifth beer of the night when Angel approached me.

"When are you gonna stop sulking little bro? It's been a year, it's time to let her go." With a scoff, I picked up my beer and chugged the rest of it. Signalling the prospect to bring me another as Angel let out a sigh.

"I'm not sulking, I'm just not in a party kind of mood." I said simply.

"You're never in the mood for anything anymore. When are you gonna go back to being your old self again?" I scoffed back at him before taking my beer off the bar and making my way through the crowd. Hearing angel call my name, I ignored it and continued out through the door.

When I got outside, I took a seat on top of the stairs before chugging the rest of my beer and throwing away the empty bottle, the sound of glass shattering in the distance. I pulled my phone out of my jeans and began scrolling through my camera roll and looking at all the pictures of her and I.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the door open and Angel come out.

"You wanna talk about it?" He said, taking the seat beside me on the steps. With a sigh, I slip my phone back into my pocket.

"I miss her." Staring straight ahead, I could feel Angel's eyes on me.

"I know you do, but you can't beat yourself up over it. It's been a year, it's time to move on! Fuck some other bitches and forget her!" I felt anger begin to boil up inside as I stood up and made my down the steps.

"You don't get it!" I snapped. With a sigh, Angel stood up and made his way down the steps and in front of me.

"What don't I get Ez? Huh?!" He snapped back poking at my chest. "It's been a year Ez, she's not coming back! You made your choice, it was her or the club and I know it hurts but you gotta let her fucking go. Ever since she left, all you've been doing is drowning your sorrows in a goddamn bottle instead of moving on!" Anger ran through my veins as I pushed against Angel.

"I can't! Why can't you get that?!" I screamed back at him. "It's not that fucking easy, I love her! Not a goddamn day goes by that I don't see her face, I look for her everywhere I go! I didn't even try to stop her." I felt tears begin forming in my eyes, "I jus- I just let her go, I let her walk out." Angel stared at me in silence. "Why did I let her go?"

"Come on, let's go back inside and forget this." I shook my head before walking past him and over to the steps.

"You go on without me." I said taking a seat. "I'll be in later." Without taking another look at Angel, I heard him let out a sigh before making his way up the steps and back into the club.

As the door closed shut, I pulled out my phone and went into my contacts. Hauling up her contact, I hovered my finger over her number, contemplating on making that call.

Letting the alcohol speak for me, I pressed down on the screen before pulling the phone up to my ear and hearing it ring.

ring... ring... ring... "Hey you reached (Y/N), leave a message and I'll call you back!"

"... Uh, hey... It's Ez... I just wanted to say... I miss you." And with that I hung up the phone. I rubbed my hand over my face, wondering if I was making a mistake leaving her a voicemail. Would she even listen to it? Or would she delete it and pretend I never called?

A million thought swirled around my head as I sat on the steps, the feeling of little wet droplets falling on my skin tore me away from my thoughts.

I let out a sigh, standing up and getting ready to head back into the club when I felt a vibration in my pocket.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)" Flashed across my screen. I slid my finger across the screen, answering the call and placing it against my ear.

"Ez... I miss you too..."

#love #imagine #ezekiel #ez #ezekiel reyes #angel #angel reyes #Spotify #angst #ez angst #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #bishop losa #gilly lopez #nestor oceteva #mayans smut #mayans mc spoilers

[garbinge]

Minimum Wage

Nestor Oceteva x F!Galindo!Reader

Day 02 these April Prompts: “Minimum Wage”

Summary: You left the Galindo name and life behind, but it always seems to come back after you.  

A/N: Just something short, there’s something so intriguing to me about a Galindo sister who just ~hates~ the family business. 

Word Count: 1.4k words

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angsty, very angsty. 

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini (Not sure how many individual Mayans fics i’ll have in the future but happy to add anyone to any potential future fics!)

Part 2 

“Come on, can I please drive you home?” Nestor pleaded with you as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the run down diner in his slacks and suit jacket. 

“I told you, that’s not my home.” You said as you passed him with two plates in your hand. 

Carefully, you placed them on the table farthest from the door and asked if they needed anything else, taking out your guest check ready to take notes. After writing down their updated drink order you retreated back behind the counter and poured two more cups of coffee. 

“I have strict orders to not leave until I get you to agree to come home.” Nestor was now a step or two closer to the counter now. 

“Well, you better make yourself comfortable because my shift isn’t over for another 2 hours.” 

Your eyes didn’t even bother to meet him as you said it, but you took one of the coffees you just poured and left it on the third seat from the corner on the diner counter for him before you moved to take more orders. 

The lunch rush died down, with only a few minutes left of your shift, you made your way back to Nestor, pouring him what was probably his 3rd cup of coffee since being here.

“I’m not coming home.” You said as the liquid poured. 

“I know.” Nestor said nodding and not making eye contact with you. 

Your eyes jumped from the mug to his eyes. His hair had grown a little since you last saw him, his grip was firm  around the coffee mug, you took in his outfit fully, you never envisioned Nestor like this, that it would ever get to this point. 

Being Miguel’s younger sister, you grew up with Nestor. While Miquel would hang out with the eldest Oceteva, you would be stuck with the younger, both of the big brothers being forced to bring the younger siblings with them. Over time your relationship evolved from being stuck with Nestor to actually enjoying your time together. You started hanging out more on your own, you invited him over and you’d hang out for hours, sometimes days if your dad was out of town. 

It was sickening to you, to see how much things changed again. Nestor always felt like yours. Not in a possessive way but in a way that only you knew him, his secrets, his flaws, his mannerisms, his favorite things, his pet peeves. That was all information that only you knew, and now there was a whole new set of secrets, of flaws, of mannerisms that Miguel knew and you didn’t. That broke you. 

“Then why are you here?” You asked him genuinely. You believed that he truthfully knew there was no chance he was going to be bringing you home. Because just like he felt like yours for all those ways you knew him, you felt like his for the same reasons. 

You left home the minute you turned 18, similar to how Nestor fled to the Navy, you fled to here. You got a minimum wage job, a few of them, and made it work. You had a decent place, you paid your bills, you changed your name, completely separated yourself from the Galindo business. It came as a shock when you heard Nestor had done the complete opposite as you when he returned from the Navy. You had written him letters, you two talked frequently, and he never mentioned once about his plans for after. He just stopped writing. Then showed up to the diner one night very similarly to how he did now. 

“To see you.” His eyes now met yours. That look, it broke you. It was hard to stare at him and really look at him, it reminded you of everything you could have had, everything that was supposed to be yours but was robbed by his decision to go neck deep into the Galindo Cartel, by your brother who was dragging him in even deeper. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Your words left your mouth before you could think. “What’s the point of this, Nestor? I’m not coming home, you’re not leaving. Why put ourselves through this shit.” 

“Because I miss you.” He said without hesitation. 

It sounded like a pick up line, but you knew it wasn’t. Nestor wasn’t going to play a game with you, things were too complicated for that. If he wanted a quick fuck he could get that easily, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, he had access to money if it really was finding itself to be a difficult task but you knew that wasn’t what he was here for. 

“I miss you too.” You closed your eyes before turning and putting the coffee pot back. “But this, this isn’t going to help anyone.” 

“I don’t care about anyone. I care about you.” Nestor had planned this out, he didn’t come here on a whim, it was on Miguel’s orders, yes, but he didn’t come here without thinking through his words. It was something the Nestor you grew up with never did, but Navy Nestor always did. With every letter he sent you, there was thought, intention, the service matured him in a way that your pining over him turned from a childhood crush to the man you wanted to marry. The man you knew would be a good husband. Protective. Funny. Thoughtful. Smart. Aware. But he took all those traits and gave them to Miguel instead. 

“You care about Miguel.” 

“And you don’t?” He retorted back to you. 

“He’s my big brother. Of course I do, but I can’t spend my time worrying about him–caring about him, he made his choice just like I did.” You lifted your hands up in defeat. 

“You work minimum wage at 4 jobs.” Nestor didn’t mean for it to come out harsh but it did, he just meant to put things into perspective for you. And he did. 

“And yet, I’m happier than I ever was then.” Your words also didn’t mean to come out harsh but, it did. 

“You gave up everything.” Nestor phrased it weirdly, it wasn’t so much a statement but it wasn’t so much a question either, somewhere in the middle of both. 

“Yea, you did.” You said staring deep into his eyes. 

It got silent, things got tense while you took a deep breath and kicked off the counter behind you. 

“In another life, maybe we chose each other.” You hoped the statement offered some type of closure, you knew if you didn’t end this now it would never stop. “But in this one, we made our choices clear and we have to live with that.”

Nestor nodded, he stood up from the seat and reached to his back pocket for his wallet. 

You lifted your hand up and shook your head. “On me.” 

Nestor hesitated, it didn’t feel right but he also knew it was barely a dollar worth of coffee so he nodded and turned to exit the diner. The bells from the door jingled as he opened it, the breeze hit you along with the realization of the situation.

“Nes.” You called out his nickname as he turned to look at you. “I wish things were different.” You wanted to leave him with some kind of peace, but deep down you knew it was also for you too. 

“Me too.” He nodded his hand still keeping the door open. “I’ll see you.” 

With that he closed the door, letting his hands fall into his pockets while he retreated to his black escalade that was parked in the lot. 

Your eyes looked down behind the counter, where your duffel bag sat, packed with all the things you needed to start new again. Having your own life where your brother knew where to find you wasn’t ideal anymore, you couldn’t live with one leg still connected to the Galindo family, so you knew this was the best thing moving forward. You’d find new jobs, you already had one lined up, it was a promotion too, not a minimum wage gig but something that paid more and was way more stable with the hours. The life you wished you would have had with him, but you were going to make for yourself at least. 

“No,” You shook your head as you mumbled under your breath. “You won’t.” 

Part 2

#mayans mc #mayans fx #nestor oceteva #nestor x reader #nestor x galindo!reader #galindo!reader #galindo reader #galindo sister #nestor oceteva x reader #angst

[narcolini]

when the crows come home

angel reyes x gn!reader, part one of ?, 3574 words

childhood friends, to strangers, to friends, to lovers

a/n: right. i have nose-dived into angel derangement and this is officially the first chapter of what i think will be a long running fic (based on the fact i already have more sections written and cannot fuckign stop) so i hope you enjoy!! (also, -e will be used in place of -o/-a suffixes throughout)

taglist: @drabbles-mc @ashlingiswriting​ @cositapreciosa​ (just now realising i didn’t specify in my post between being tagged for narcos or mayans so i just added u loves who i know are partial to mr. reyes) ((let me know if you wanna be tagged in the future)) ok shutting up <3

You’re shit out of luck. 

Every crumb of luck that life might have once given you, is spent, gone, tossed into the fucking wind with everything else you used to possess. A job you liked, a fiancé, a pending lease to an apartment in a city you never dreamed you’d live in, and, most crucially, a car that worked the way it was supposed to fucking work. All of that was gone now, plucked from your grasp.

You put your forehead to the driver’s door in defeat, phone still in your hand from ringing the tow company. They’ll send someone your way, they said, not to fix it, but to bring it back to the lot. Can’t fix a problem ’til I know what it is, the man had gurgled into your ear. You sure it ain't the battery?

You open your eyes to the lights on your dashboard. Yes, it isn’t the fucking battery.

Sighing, you force yourself to take the keys from the ignition and shut the door. Looking at it’s stupid warning lights won’t make time pass any quicker.  

The road you’ve had the misfortune of breaking down on is barren. Stripped back of any life and set into the dry backdrop, black asphalt against rusting earth. You face the way you came, then turn to look in the opposite direction, counting one, two, three and a half buildings that might contain something close to civilisation. All too far to be worthwhile walking to yet. The tow-truck will come before you have to take that step of desperation.

It really had been a bad idea coming back to Santo Padre, not that you had any choice. With no Mick, you couldn’t afford to go anywhere else, couldn’t do anything but come home and beg for an admin job at the loan firm where your dad works. 

It’s the same job you’d had before you left, the same job you’ll probably have forever, now, until you’re greying like your dad is, and passing on secretarial roles to your own children.

If you’d waited a little longer to leave, then maybe it wouldn’t have ended up like this. You could have looked for a better job, closer to home, and a place to live within your budget, before saying anything at all to Mick. 

You don’t realise it, but you’ve begun picking at the flaking paint around the car’s rear window, gaze sitting unfocused on the ditch by the side of the road. It’s only when you hear the rumble of a motorbike that you come back into yourself, turning to the sound. 

It’s going the same way you had been trying to go, its grumbling engine noise bouncing down the tarmac in your direction. You would’ve thought nothing of it, besides it being a somewhat familiar thing, if the rider hadn’t started to slow once he neared where you’re parked. 

Then, it’s all too obvious who it is, even under all the shit he’s wearing. You’d recognise him if he was dipped in tar. Angel Reyes, your oldest and most estranged friend.

Maybe your luck hasn’t run out after all.

He rolls his bike to a stop behind your car, then cuts the engine and pops the stand. You dawdle the few steps you need to set yourself in front of him as he slouches into his seat, finding balance on its stationary slant.

‘Oh, my God,’ he says slowly, removing his helmet, then his sunglasses, then the remainder of any intimidating image he’d possessed, as his face breaks into the goofiest grin you’ve ever seen. Well, one you haven’t seen in years, at least. ‘Look who’s back in town.’

‘Guilty,’ you reply, letting your hands flap up briefly. As if to say, yep, you got me. ‘It’s good to see you, Angel.’

He smiles back at you, and stares, then shakes his head, and stares, and you itch right down to your heels under the gaze of him. 

‘What’s wrong with you?’ you ask, attempting to joke through the building nerves. It’s been so long that you’ve almost forgotten how to act. ‘You pull over just to stare at me?’

‘Nah.’ He draws back into life, reaching to put his helmet on the end of the handlebars. ‘Just making sure I’m not hallucinating,’ he says. ‘Didn’t think I’d ever see you in Santo Padre again, not until one of us died or some shit.’

A laugh snuffs out of you, easy as if you’d spoken to him only yesterday. It makes you relax slightly. ‘Nope, I’m very much real.’ You point at him. ‘And no-one’s dead.’ 

‘I see that.’ He flicks his chin toward you. ‘You look good, yo, real grown up.’

‘Thanks. You look old as fuck too, asshole.’ 

He laughs, and you find yourself grinning in response, cheeks rounding up to your eyes. This isn’t going to be as awkward as you thought it might be. It’s already as easy as stepping into a pair of old shoes, comfortable with the shape of you. 

‘Grown up, you know,’ you mutter, knowing he can hear you still, ‘like we aren’t the same age.’

His head tilts. ‘Come on, I meant it as a compliment and you know it. Been a while since I seen you.’

You answer with a smile, just a small one flicked across to him. It’s enough to say, I know, I’m joking. It’s been a while, but not long enough to forget how. 

A car whistles into your peripheral; you both pause to watch it go by, like it might have eavesdropped on your conversation otherwise. Once it’s passed, you look back to Angel and find him waiting, questions balanced on his tongue. 

‘So, you back for good, or what?’ he asks. ‘Should I tell EZ you’re around?’

‘Yeah, for good,’ you brush away from the topic, ‘may be literally here forever if this guy doesn’t show up.’ You rap your knuckle against the roof of your car, paint crushed under your nails. ‘Stupid thing went dead out of nowhere. No warning or anything.’

‘You put gas in it?’ 

Your face falls open in false shock, gravel crunching under foot as you turn back to him. ‘Oh shit, you mean you have to put something in it, to make it go?’

The sarcasm slides right off him. Doesn’t even mark the surface. ‘Yeah, kinda helps,’ he says, as fake in his sincerity as you were in yours. 

You’d forgotten how easily this came to the two of you, how quickly it could bounce back and forth, how nonsensical every conversation could be once you were both there toying with it. Like cats with a fucking mouse, batting it between you. 

You put your hand to your forehead, scratching an itch that isn’t really there. ‘Do you actually know anything useful about fixing cars?’ you ask him.

‘Nope.’ He looks smug about the answer. ‘But I can give you a ride.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Thanks, but I should wait for the tow company.’

‘Aight.’ He folds his arms over his bike, leaning forward against the swell of its motor. He doesn’t look to you to continue conversation, but instead at the road, watching as a truck hauls itself past. He follows it until it’s too far into the distance to bother with, then flicks his gaze back, waiting for another. 

‘What’re you doing?’ you ask, after what feels like a couple minutes but can’t really have been.

He exhales, something close to a laugh, and lifts a hand to gesture toward you and your sorry excuse of a vehicle. ‘Waiting ’til they come get your shitty car. You don’t want company?’

His? You’re still deciding. How can you ask a favour of someone you’ve not spoken to in years?

‘I’m okay,’ you tell him, crossing your arms against the cold. It’s not sundown yet, but with few buildings to keep in the heat, the temperature is dropping noticeably. 

‘Yeah, not happening, biche.’ He casts another look behind him. ‘Open road like this? When it’s about to get dark? I’ll wait.’ 

You won’t admit it, but part of you is grateful for his stubbornness. Even if nothing sinister happened, on the side of this shit-hole road, boredom would get you eventually. 

‘Don’t call me that,’ you retort, delayed, just as your phone blares from your pocket. ‘We aren’t kids anymore.’

A smile chips into his features as you answer the call. ‘No,’ he says, ‘but you’re still a bug.’ 

‘Hello?’ You hold a finger out to Angel, a shut up, stop smirking, finger. ‘Yeah.’

You feel his eyes on your face. It makes it annoyingly hard to concentrate.

‘Okay. Yeah, that’s right. Thank you, I will do. Bye.’

You hang up and force the phone back into your jeans. Great. Your palms drag down your face, followed by a sigh. The evening just went from annoying, to near impossible to deal with. 

Angel dips his chin to you, expectant. ‘Well…?’

‘They only have the one tow truck,’ you answer. 

‘And?’

‘It’s on its way out of town right now.’ You feel the words bitterly, force them through the cage of your teeth. You’re never great at admitting defeat. ‘They won’t be by until late.’

In response, he holds out his helmet for you. So smooth with it that you briefly entertain the possibility that he’d planned all this. The car, the tow truck, the road that he just happened to be on. 

‘Offers still there, biche,’ he says, throwing the pet-name in like he’s addicted to it now. 

You stare at his outstretched hand. Wait, and it could be hours until you’re home, go, and Angel would have you there before the sun sets. It’s blindingly obvious which is the better deal.

‘God.’ You grab the helmet and climb onto his bike before you have to see him grinning in response. ‘Don’t look so happy about my bad day, tontín.’ You stress his old nickname, trying to prove a point, but failing. It sounds endearing even by your ears. 

‘There it is.’ His head goes back, into your shoulder. You smell his hair gel before you feel it, scratching, against your jaw. ‘Say it again,’ he croons, ‘it’s been so long.’

You push him off, using the round of the helmet against his back. ‘I’ll key your paintwork if you don’t shut up.’ 

He laughs, loud like he doesn’t believe you, then asks, ‘Damn, when’d you get so bitter?’

You helmet-up and clip the strap under your chin without answering. It’s enough of a signal for him to get moving, his tone switching to something more serious when he asks, ‘You ever been on a bike?’

‘No.’ 

‘Tuck your knees in.’

You do. You also choose to grip the edges of his kutte, tight in your fists, to save yourself from wrapping around his torso. The contact of your inner thighs to the warmth of him is already too much to rationalise. Thirty minutes ago, you were living a very Angel-free life. Now, you’re stuck to him like a second-jacket. You’re always in favour of rekindling old friendships, but this is less like rekindling, and more like throwing a match into a waiting tank of gasoline.

‘Like this,’ he says, one foot on the ground still. Both his hands grip your knees, pushing them tightly into the sides of him. ‘There. Tight, yeah?’

‘Okay,’ you stress, ‘I get it.’

He turns the ignition and kicks the stand up. The rumble beneath is enough to make you jump, even though you’d expected it, twitching closer to him. So close that your face is almost pressed to the patches on his back. 

‘Where we going?’ he asks, voice raised as he pulls off.

‘You know,’ you answer, almost embarrassed by the volume you’ve chosen in response. You’ve no idea how loud you need to be to be heard but you’ve committed to it now. ‘You’ve been there often enough.’

If he answers, you can’t make it out—but you catch him nodding—and then it’s just engine and road, and chilled, whipping air against your face.

---------

The route must be as ingrained in him as it is in you. You never forget the paths you take as a kid, it prints itself into the bones, you think. Clings, like it knows that, eventually, everyone always comes home. You always need to be able to find your way back.

The Reyes’ house was only a few streets over from yours, close enough to feel like nothing, even to littler legs, and you’d spent time there too, but your parents’ house had a tyre swing in the front yard; a natural meeting point for kids with nothing to do. Angel used to spin EZ in it until he was sick over the tree roots and the rope was too knotted to swing on. He never got you with the same game, because you refused to sit in it when he was near, no matter how innocent he pretended to be.

You had used it as a bartering tool at first, when you were friendless and desperate for them, and the brothers had been easy to convince. You went from having no-one, to having two, just like that. Friends to meet with after school, and before school. Then at school. On the weekends, in the summer when the nights dragged out and the extra light made your parents forgiving of your curfew, you had them, thanks to that swing. 

Angel and his little brother. Angel and his friends from class. Now you think of it, it all came back to him, really. The centre of everything social in your life from ten until eighteen. 

Well, almost. Once you met Mick it was split between the two of them. 

You never quite got the balance right.

When Angel pulls up to your driveway, it’s well into dusk, the sun lingering above the skyline. You climb off as soon as the bike is still, and stable, eager to not embarrass yourself in the dismount. Which you don’t, thankfully. You make it back onto the ground with ease and pass him his helmet, your free hand quick to fluff up your presumably flattened hair.

‘Thank-you,’ you tell him, earnestly. ‘I really lucked out there.’

He shrugs. ‘Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just gotta make sure you always break down on my route home from the club.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ 

You put your hands in the pockets of your jacket, rocking yourself forward and backwards on your toes. Only a moment of silence passes, but it feels weighted, tangible. You swallow some of the nothingness in your mouth as if the quiet might have a taste to it. 

‘You’re not gonna invite me in for a beer?’ he asks, like he’s tossing a safety rope into the water. ‘Cold soda, or something?’

You sigh. ‘My parents are in.’

‘Shit, they still live here? I figured they must of moved or something, left you the house.’

You look back at it, the one-story property you’d grown up in. Same curtains, same sun-bleached figurines in the front yard. The tyre swing’s gone now, but the tree’s still there, its empty branch bent toward the ground. You’ve updated the wallpaper in the hall, and filled your childhood bedroom with all the shit you’d bought for the apartment, but, really, it’s not changed all that much. To Angel it must seem exactly the same as it was, you included.

‘Yo,’ he says, pulling your attention back to him. He must’ve caught something in your expression because now he’s overcompensating, hands up in innocence. ‘I’m not judging. Shit happens.’ 

You wait, toying with a loose stitch in the seam of your jeans. You suppose there’s no harm in being honest. In saying what he could guess already, or hear from some other gossiping neighbours. 

‘I was supposed to get a place with…’ The name flees from your tongue.

‘Ah.’ He nods, he remembers. You’d been with the same guy since the ninth grade; you’d been friends with Angel until the twelfth. ‘Like I said, shit happens.’ He pauses, then smiles just enough for it to reach his eyes. ‘He was an asshole anyway.’

‘Yeah,’ you agree, ‘he kinda was.’ 

He settles into his bike, one hand resting on the handlebar still. ‘Was it recent?’ he asks.

Two weeks ago, you think, no, a month. You can’t bring yourself to say either. It had been over with Mick long before you’d plucked up the courage to say so. And that’s a conversation for another day, so you decide to ignore his question altogether and ask, ‘How’s EZ?’ instead.

Angel snorts, quick and merciful in his ability to switch topics. ‘Still my annoying baby brother.’ 

You smile. Tu hermano es mi hermano, is what you used to tell him. It still feels that way now. You nod to the ink branding Angel’s forearms. ‘He a part of your little crew yet?’

‘Yes, he’s part of my little crew,’ he repeats, mocking your own teasing. ‘Kid got his rockers the other week.’

You feel your lips pull into a questioning line, like a downturned smile. It may as well have been a shrug. ’I have no idea what that means.’

Angel rolls his eyes. ‘It means he’s in, like, in in. No longer a prospect.’

‘Right.’ You nod. ‘That’s good,’ you say, but your voice goes up at the end like it might be a question. He’d said it with enough of an edge in his tone to make you doubt yourself.

‘Yeah, now he’s even more annoying than he used to be.’ It’s meant to be a joke, you assume, but it doesn’t land. He almost looks like he’s sulking as he says it. 

‘Don’t act like you aren’t proud, Angel. You know he looks up to you.’

He sighs lightly, shrugging away any real sentiment. ‘Maybe.’

‘I see that hasn’t changed,’ you muse, half-shaking your head at him.  

‘What hasn’t?’

‘You putting yourself down before someone else can. Always been your own worst enemy, tontín.’

‘Okay,’ he nods, sarcastic, ‘alright, Dr. Therapist.’

‘Doctor therapist?’

He tuts as you laugh. ‘Shut up,’ he scolds and the toe of his boot juts out, spraying a handful of loose stones in your direction. ‘Don’t give me attitude now, carnale, I was about to ask for your number.’

You raise a brow.

Then his eyes are rolling again, head following the movement to look away, then back to you. ‘Not like that. To catch up, rekindle old friendships and shit. I know EZ will wanna see how you turned out.’

‘Feelings mutual.’ Last time you’d seen EZ, he was still wearing Angel’s pass-me-downs. ‘I’ll text you,’ you say, handing him your phone, ‘but any drunken calls or shitty bike memes and you’re getting blocked.’

He takes it, then squints up at you before typing anything into it. ‘Did you get meaner? I feel like you got meaner.’

‘I lost my patience somewhere in my twenties.’ You kick his boot. ‘Type.’

He plugs in his number and passes the phone back. ‘If you don’t text, I’ll show up and steal one of your little—’

His own phone buzzes audibly in his jeans, stopping the threat before it can fully form. His eyes pull from the poor under-saturated flamingo he’d been targeting. You smirk at your own quickness, knowing you must look impossibly smug about it. 

‘Happy?’ you ask.

Angel smiles. It’s startlingly genuine. ‘Very.’

---------

The next morning you’re watching a man called Lou, doing God knows what under the hood of your car, when your phone pings with a new message. You haven’t been here long, but the sudden reminder that shit exists outside of rusting metal and grumbling men with nothing much to say, feels like a gleaming lighthouse on the horizon. You pull your phone out so quickly that it’s almost embarrassing.

It’s Angel, of course. Or rather, Angelito, as he’d saved himself. He’d texted you enough times after dropping you off last night, that you’re starting to expect every notification will be him.

The message reads, Drinks tonight?

Sure, you reply. Bring EZ.

‘This been changed before?’ Lou asks suddenly, grizzled face appearing from behind the propped-hood. He’s holding something up by his shining head that looks like nothing but a piece of metal to you. Generic car part #462.

‘No idea.’ You shrug at him. ‘I only bought it the other week.’

He grunts in response, ducking back into his work. Then another text comes through, giving you an excuse to look busy, and less like a dumbass who doesn’t know about their own damn car.

Fine, Angel says, but he ain’t as fun as he used to be. You need a ride?

Hopefully not, you type back, she’s in surgery now.

Prayin for you. That shit looked terminal.

You smile, thinking of a response for long enough that the screen goes black and shows you your own reflection in return. You look familiar again, you realise, smiling like this. It’s been a while since it came without effort. 

Maybe you should pick me up, you type, relaying what’s happening in real time. Just heard the guy call something ‘a little bitch’ so it’s not looking good.

The reply comes quick. I got you, biche.

>>>>>> part two

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #knowing me this will end up as slow burn angst paired with really tooth itching sweetness #pLEASE let me know your thoughts!! <3

[purplerain85]

For my Broken Heart

Pairing: Happy x Reader

Summary: The end of your Relationship with Happy and the morning after.

A/N: so clearly heartbreak and hurting this man is a new thing 🤷🏻‍♀️ I have no idea why. I love this man but hurt just looks so good on him. It’s also super short too

Also the fix is based off My Broken Heart by Reba McEntire.

Warning: angst,

It was inventible as much as you two fought so hard for this relationship and the love you two have for each other. It was just one of those things that no matter what it wasn’t going to work.

So here you two were carrying the rest of his boxes down to his car. There were no angry words barely any words just a couple “mmhmm and yeah” from you knowing that if you spoke too much that would be it. You would completely lose it and he would feel even worse than what he already did.

“That’s the last of it” Happy says flatly as he gets Opie in the car, he looks like he is just holding on as well. He gives you one last hug gets in his car and drives away. You stand there tell you cannot see his tail lights anymore, and walk back into your now extremely empty home.

You lock the door turn out some of the lights, grab your bottle of vodka on the way to your bedroom, you get to the door look at the empty Alaskan king bed as you feel the tears come you say “Nope” knowing that you couldn’t face the night sleeping in the bed and make a mental note to buy a smaller bed and turn to the living room.

You sit down and instantly feel the damn break and lay down and cry so hard that you cried yourself to sleep while making a little prayer. Knowing that this is a whole new heartbreak that wasn’t going to be easy to get over. Happy had said “if it’s really meant to be you two will find a way back to each other” but you weren’t so hopeful.

You awake the next morning to the sun glaring at you, and realize that life is still going and the world is spinning. You lay there trying to put your scattered thoughts in place. You struggle to get to the kitchen to make your coffee knowing that this is the first of many mornings you have to face by yourself.

Happy called you around noon, he sounds so lost and broken “how you doing baby girl? And don’t lie to me and tell me you are ok, tell me how you are feeling?”

You gaze out the window and start crying while saying “I couldn't face the night in that lonely bed, so I laid down on the couch instead. Then I prayed the Lord my soul to keep then I cried myself to sleep so sure life wouldn't go on without you but this sun is blinding me as it tries to wakes me from the dark I guess the world didn't stop for my broken heart”

Tag 🏷️ @withmyteeth @darklydeliciousdesires @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna @yourwonkywriter @darqchilddaydreamz @reyeswritesmc @chibsytelford @twistnet @nestorsgirlfriend @nessamc @challengeahellcat @indefiniteimagines @raewritesfiction

#happy lowman x angst #happy lowman x you #happy low man x reader #happy Lowman #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #mayans mc #david labrava x reader #david labrava

[dallianceangel]

𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 🛒💔

Felt like breaking my own heart, so here is the result of that. I may make this into a longer fic or even a multiple part story, so feel free to tell me if that's something you'd want to see.

Credits to the owner for the Halloween divider.

♡ Comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡

You thought you had another chance. You’ve only been back for a day, but you’re already watching the metaphorical ship sailing right past you. The love of your life slipping through your fingers in a matter of moments.

He’s right there, standing in the snack aisle with a pretty blonde just a few feet away from you, looking content as he watches her place various items into their basket. Gazing at her the way he used to gaze at you, pressing kisses to her head. It’s a devastating sight, and not one you’re willing to stay here for.

Dropping your empty basket, the noise drawing his attention to you, you dart out of the supermarket with tears blurring your vision. Making his excuses, Opie races to catch you up, but you’re already speeding away in your car and out of his life for the second time.

The timing never was right between you two…

#opie winston #sons of anarchy #soa #ryan hurst #fanfiction #soa imagine #lyla winston #heartbreak #fanfic #drabble #drabbles #mayans mc #angst #tumblr

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Natural Hair Drabble are Re-open

Drabble Masterlist

For request info see here

#Jax Teller #Lyla Winston #Opie Winston #Happy Lowman #Juice Ortiz #sons of anarchy #Ivar the Boneless #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #vikings #The Punisher #Frank Castle #Smut #Fluff #angst with a happy ending #mayans mc #ez reyes #angel reyes

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

Sagittarius Season

As a Sagittarius (no, I will not tell you when my birthday is) I feel like its important to do something fun to celebrate this chaotic season.

So with that in mind, I've decided to open up my requests! Please select a character from the list below and one of the prompts. I WILL NOT WRITE FOR CHARACTERS THAT ARE NOT ON THE LIST.

Characters Mayans MC Nestor Oceteva Bishop Losa Miguel Galindo Tranq Loza Coco Cruz Stranger Things Robin Buckley Steve Harrington Eddie Munson Vecna Jim Hopper Billy Hargrove Top Gun Maverick Rooster Hangman Bob The Punisher Billy Russo Frank Castle Prompts "why can't i find it in me to hate you the way i need to?" “I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.” “Not sure if I’m hungover, dead, or just hungry.” “I love the smell of coffee in the morning and the sound of no one talking while I drink it.” “Right now, I want a massage, some food, and some sleep. But a hug would be great, too.” “Just because it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean it’s not going to be a hell of a lot of fun.” “You’re cute when you’re mad.” - “Yeah, well I’m about to get really fucking adorable.” “Eight planets, two hundred and four countries, eight hundred and nine islands, seven seas, over seven billion people - and I still had the pleasure of running into you.” my hands are stained with blood and violence , yet you choose to hold them like a precious thing . “I didn’t ask to be abducted.” - “Well I didn’t ask to have to abduct you, but here we are.” “I just came to say goodbye.” “Use your words.” “Louder. Let me hear you.” "don't you hide that cute face from me. i wanna see all of you." "you can give me another one, can't you baby? for me, please?" “i didn’t like the way they were looking at you.” “no ones here. we can be as loud as we want.” i'm going to absolutely wreck you." "i can take more than you think."

thank you!

#requests #mayans mc #stranger things #the punisher #top gun maverick #fanfic #fan fiction #writer #imagines #one shots #smut prompts #fluff prompts #angst prompts

[thisreadswhatever]

The 401 Freeway

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 1.8k+

[summary]: what’s more boring then being stranded on the highway with jax teller?

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, car sex, pet names, public sex (kinda), overstimulation, possible grammar/spelling errors

[authors note]: this one shot is inspired by this request, thank you for sending it to me! not as angsty as i had wanted but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

“I told you that we could’ve rode there.” You rolled your eyes, looking straight over the steering wheel into the road ahead. You’d argued about driving your car before you’d even left for the weekend. Jax was always pushing you to ride his bike, but after your brother’s accident years ago, you swore you never would again. “You know how I feel about riding, Jax.”

“I know I know.” He placed a reassuring hand on your thigh. “But one of these days you’re gonna have to get it over with, babe. Cant be anymore dangerous than driving this piece of junk.” He rolled the recliner back, lifting his feet on the dashboard and settling his dirt stained nikes along window.

“It got us out of Charming for the weekend so I’d say it holds up pretty well.”

“Well I certainly can’t complain about the driver.” He was peering through his lowered sunglasses, smiling right at you. It was hard to be annoyed at him when he looked at you that way. “Feet off the dash, passenger.” You slapped his jeans, forcing his legs back into the footwell. “Yes ma’am.”

Your goal of driving out to the coast for the weekend, as nice as it had been, was just to get some time away from Gemma. She’d been hounding you ever since you and Jax got back together. He could only wear her down so much, and he knew it too, Gemma was relentless. Even with her pulling at your last nerves, it took a lot to convince Jax to leave for the weekend, let alone let you drive. Things had been heating up at the club for some time, dealings that you shouldn’t even know of we’re starting to get out of hand. Jax knew getaways probably weren’t the best idea, but you would do anything to have a few days away from his overbearing mother, including a few promises, that you had indeed kept, of some hot sex on the beach.

“It should only be a few hours till we’re back. Why don’t you drop it off at the clubhouse and Chibs can have a look at it. See if we can fix it up.” Like he was cursing it as he spoke, suddenly the engine gave way, and no matter how hard you pushed the pedals beneath your feet there was no give. “Shit shit shit!”, you slapped the steering wheel with your palms. You managed to curb the car alongside the road before it came to a complete halt.

“What did I just call this?” Jax was overtly amused by the timing. “A piece of junk? Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“Ugh!” You hopped out the car and slammed the door, kicking the tires with all your might. “Piece of shit. You couldn’t just wait to fall apart!” You walked towards the front of the car, to a horrific smell of burning and smoke bellowing out of the crevices. And then you kicked the bumper of the car a little more.

Jax was watching you from a distance, cigarette in hand, amused at your tantrum. “Jax this isn’t fucking funny! Look at us, we’re fucking stranded!” You folded your arms like a spoilt teenager and stumped yourself down against the passenger door. “Our weekends fucking ruined.”

Jax walked over and sat down beside you, smushing his right leg against yours. “Relax, babe.” He nudged your shoulder with his. “I called the guys. Piney will be coming to get us in a few hours. Hopefully tow this thing back to the junkyard.” You scoffed at him, “Perfect, more biker boys.” You stood up, and leaned against the hood of the car. “What’s so wrong with a biker boy?”, Jax called to you, almost inviting you in his tone. “How about their inability to love a classic set of four wheels.”

He laughed at you as he stood up, crushing his cigarette beneath his sneaker. “Well, I got an idea of how we can use this four wheel death trap while we wait for the ‘biker boys’.”

He pulled you further from the hood, up the side of the drivers door, slightly out of view from traffic. He knew you’d thank him for that later on. For now though, all you could think of was the trailing of his fingers under your jeans, gripping your ass above your thong. You could feel the cold metal of his rings against your skin as he kneaded your flesh. “I’ve been wanting to rip these jeans off you since you put them on this morning, babe.”

He felt so good on you, peeling you back layer by layer, which he knew so well. “Turn around for me.” You did what he asked, turning so your chest was against the driver door. “Is this how you want me, Jax?” He grabbed yours wrists in response, putting both above your head, securing them to the roof of the car with one hand. You felt sticky underneath the California sunset, pinned up against your car like the whole world wasn’t driving past. Yet knowing this only seemed to turn you on more. “This is how I want you. So fucking hot like this.” You pushed your ass into him as far as your body would allow, feeling his grip tighten around your wrists. feeling his hard cock between you and your jeans.

Your cheeks smushed against the window. Jax buried his face into your neck, leaving red marks along the nape as he bit into your flesh. He carried his free hand under your button down shirt, and down your navel to your waistband, undoing the button. You moaned into the window as he slid your jeans down, exposing your ass to the entire 401 freeway.

Jax dug his face through the hair covering your ear, “You are the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” As he tugged at the fabric that further down your thighs. You buckled at his words, “Please fuck me already, Jax.”

He groaned at your begging, “You want me to fuck you here? With all these cars watching?” His hand was now toying with your entrance beneath your thong, feeling your slick mounting at his words.

Your knees were grinding up the side of the car as your body tried to find relief in his grasp. “God yes, fucking take me, please, Jax.” He smiled at your desperation,

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

Jax moved your thong so your pussy was exposed, you could feel the cool air hit your warmth. He continued to kiss your neck while he undid the button to his jeans. Never letting go of your hands above your head, he pulled his length from his boxers and teased you with the tip, sliding his arousal along your entrance. You whimpered at this sensation, desperate with anticipation. “Please - fuck. Please.” He pushed himself into you, slowly filling you with every inch of his cock.

Your wrists felt like weights above your head, making it difficult as you tried to push your ass against his hips, eager to feel all of him.

“Look at you, taking me so nice on the highway. All these people watching you get fucked like the good girl you are.” You melted at the words, the feeling of every car looking at you while they drove past.

You were so exposed, so vulnerable, and so full up all at the same time. You whimpered as Jax repeatedly pelted you with thrust after thrust.

The only distraction from the fullness was the moving of his free hand grasping your hips, pulling you deeper into euphoria. Sounds began to leave your mouth as you burned from the heat radiating between your hips, you tried to bite your arm to stop from screaming.

“Don’t stop, baby girl. I want to hear you.”

You began to lose composure and your knees became weak, harder to hold yourself up against him. You were sure if it wasn’t for the grip of your wrists you wouldn’t be able to stand.

His hand left the constant pulling of your hips and moved up along your back towards your chest, feeling under your shirt. He pulled the straps of your bra exposing your tits under the buttoned up blouse, forcing them against the car. You could feel the coolness of the glass amongst your shirt, brushing against your nipples.

It was all building, the fullness of Jax inside you, the sound of tires speeding past on the freeway, the weight of his hand mounting you to the roof of then car. Tears began to stream down your face as the sensation was overwhelming, pushing you closer to your finish.

Jax was tensing and hardening his thrusts into you, motivated at the cries that escaped your lips. He continued to slide into you, deepening further each time. “Fuck, Jax”, you choked on the words. “You gonna cum all over my cock?” You could feel control slipping through your limbs and you reached your climax, “mhmm. You’re going to make me cum all fucking over you.”

His head rolled back at your words unravelling him, feeling you tighten around his cock. “Taking me so good”, and it sent him over his peak, as he loaded you generously with his liquid, now dripping from the fullness.

He collapsed into you, letting go of your wrists as they fell to your sides. His mouth was to your ear, gnawing at you, as you both came down from your high. “You know you are so fucking delicious, babe.” He grazed down your ear to your neck, planting kisses on your exposed skin.

You turned to face him, leaning your bare ass against the driver side door, placing your lips on his.

“I wonder if we have enough time to see what we can do on the inside of the death trap.” He gripped your hair with his hands, smiling against your lips as he kissed you back.

“I like your thinking, babe.”

#jax teller x reader #jax teller fiction #jax teller angst #jax teller one shot #jax teller smut #smut #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy smut #jax teller #sons #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #jax teller morrow #mayans mc #mayans fic #reads whatever writes

[bombshellbre95]

I can't wait for this final season of Mayans cuz I know the fanfics gon be top tier lol. I remember when I got into Mayans and I was living my best life reading everybody fics. I wanna read more when this last season drops so if you write for the Mayans MC men please like/reblog this so I can follow you. ESPECIALLY if you write angst and smut.

#I'm not a fluff girl so if you're an angst and smut writer please like and reblog #bre speaks #mayans #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc fx

[emiwasabi]

Fanfic Updates!!

Hey all! I've been taking a writing hiatus waiting for those creative juices to start flowing again. Watching the episode from Season 4 has given me a bit of a jumpstart. I'm not a huge fan of the way the plot is going as of now but I'm feeling motivated enough to finish those fics that I have in progress. I'm putting a list of the ones that I will be continuing below and hopefully I'll put out some new stories as well!

Thank you for reading!!!

Stalker

Stalker: Part 1

Stalker: Part 2

Stalker: Part 3

Stalker: Part 4

Found

Found: Part 1

Found: Part 2

Breakout

Breakout: Part 1

Breakout: Part 2

#mayans mc #mayans fanfic #fanfiction #angst #action #gilly lopez #cococruz #ez reyes #angel reyes #taza #creeper

[servena-writes-fic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mayans M.C. (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kevin Jimenez Additional Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Stress, Heartburn, Sleep Deprivation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

He had needed to get out of his office, but he didn’t want to go home either.

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First time writing for this fandom, trying my hand at some KJ angst.

#mayans mc #kevin jimenez #angst #ao3 #my works #maurice compte

[ficnation]

Lying in Blood - EZ Reyes x Reader

Summary: When your husband dies you're left to mourn the life you were supposed to have. But when guilt consumes the killer, a chance at redemption opens as he steps forward to raise the child as his own.

Word count: 2,6k+

Pairing: Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; Past!Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader

Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pregnancy, pure angst

A/n: EZ might be a little OOC but who cares. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

The moment you walk into the clubhouse, the smell of smoke and leather assaults your senses. The atmosphere is smoky, the air heavy with the cigarette fog swallowing the entire room. In the background, the clicking of pool balls and the murmur of conversations can be heard, the smell and environment already making you feel a little dizzy as the door opens and shuts behind you.

You force yourself to move forward as the members of the MC raise their glasses and nod in welcome to your arrival. You greet them with a warm smile like always, then look around the room in search of your beloved’s face. You can almost see him talking with his friends in the crowd, an unopened beer bottle in his tattooed hand.

But he’s not there. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Bishop must’ve noticed the way your eyes wander around the room in search of a ghost. He stands up from his sitting place, grabs your arm, and pulls you toward one of the couches. You slump down against it, sighing heavily.

“Querida,” he starts, sitting down beside you, his arm outstretched, beckoning you closer.

You shake your head to will the dark thoughts away, then relax against his side, your cheek finding rest on his shoulder.

“Bishop,” you greet him back with a smile.

“You’ve popped,” the man notices with a chuckle, looking down at the roundness of your protruding stomach.

“Oh, definitely. I woke up one day, looked in the mirror, and thought she doubled in there,” you mumble with a huff, but there’s a lightness to your voice.

Bishop admires your strength—how you can still see the world in colors even when your life is falling apart. It baffles him. He wishes he had that kind of strength himself.

He smiles at you, pulling you just a little bit closer. “She?” he repeats, raising his brow.

You smile brightly at him, caressing the bump with gentle, loving strokes. “Yeah, it’s a little girl.”

But your smile falters ever so lightly when you think about the fact that Neron still doesn’t know that the doctors were wrong and you were going to have a little daughter instead of a son. He won’t even be there when you give birth. He’ll still be behind bars, far away from your baby girl.

Bishop notices the change in your expression and grasps your hand in his, squeezing delicately. “He’s proud of you, you know that. We’re all proud of you.”

You can only nod in response, blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes. You weren’t as strong as they all wanted you to be. You were just about to become a mom—a single mom because your husband won’t be there for most of the baby’s early years. You’ll be lucky if he gets out when she’s a teenager.

“Yeah, just wish his child was more important than the club,” you whisper under your breath, quickly regretting your words. But Bishop looks at you with understanding, no ounce of anger on his face. “Well, I actually came here looking for EZ. Is he around?”

“He’s not around. But he should be back soon. Do you wanna wait for him?” he asks, kissing the side of your forehead. “I can get you some water and keep you company.”

You stay with him, conversing to kill time as you wait for the club’s president to turn up. The older man keeps you occupied, talking a little bit about everything—how long until the baby comes, if you need help setting up the nursery, is your money situation looking okay—Bishop asks about everything in hopes the MC can make your life a little bit easier.

An hour or two passes before Ezekiel walks into the clubhouse. He looks around the room and doesn’t expect to see you there. Your presence startles him.

His eyes stare intently as you talk with Bishop, one of your hands mindlessly caressing your protruding stomach, waiting for the baby to kick. The other man hovers his hand close, ready for you to guide it so he can feel the little kick.

EZ feels the guilt—it comes up his throat and makes him nauseous. You’ve been friends for so long, and you don’t even know just how bad of a friend he was.

He ordered the murder of your husband. He took away the father of your baby—the man you loved with your whole being. He took his life and didn’t even give a second thought to how it would affect you—how much it would ruin your life.

The baby in your stomach starts kicking, so you take Bishop’s hand and press it against it. Ezekiel still stares, but he’s too far gone in his thoughts to register what’s happening.

“She’s kicking.” Your smile is bright, and it gives him a tiny bit of hope that Neron’s death won’t make you miserable for the rest of your life.

He forces his legs to move forward, swallowing the want to throw up all over the wooden floor. With a forced nervous smile, he reaches the couch.

“Is she?” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

You sit up straighter, surprised by his sudden appearance. The smile you give him is innocent—unknowing.

“Hi, EZ.”

He returns it, but it’s weak and awkward, and he’s sure you can feel just how out of place he felt in his own clubhouse.

“Hi.”

Bishop senses the sudden shift in the air. He gets up and presses a kiss to your cheek, his beard ticklish on your skin. He regards the younger man with suspicious eyes. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says finally as he leaves you with the club’s president, heading towards the exit of the building.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” you notice, patting the couch where Bishop once sat to beckon Ezekiel to take his place.

The man scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah… I was busy with the—” he’s lost in his own words as he gestures vaguely to the clubhouse, “the thing.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, definitely,” you joke, “the thing always requires attention.”

He laughs at your words, but it has a forced quality to it. The joke isn’t that funny. You know it, and he knows it too, but you wave it off, thinking he didn’t want to make the conversation more uncomfortable than it already was by giving you the details.

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “We’ve got it under control, though,” he continues, and you respond with a nod, your eyes not quite meeting his.

“Have you heard anything from Neron?”

So that’s what you came here to ask—EZ thinks. It was logical. You barely needed the MC’s help, preferring to get stuff done on your own, mainly because you didn’t want to add to their problems. You always held your head high.

“He’s been quiet for a while now,” Ezekiel tenses in his seat as the words leave your mouth.

He can almost feel the crickets playing a symphony in his head. He doesn’t know what to say or do, so he opts for a simple lie—he is getting better at them with every passing day. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Damn it.” Your sigh clenches his heart painfully. “Those cops are probably harassing him again.”

“Probably,” he agrees with you, scratching his chin for a second as he glances at your face. “You’ve heard nothing at all?”

“Nothing. He doesn’t call anymore.” The tone of your voice changes, and he can feel the heartbreak—the agony that those words render.

EZ takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “He’ll call. I’m sure he will.” A fucking liar; that’s what he is.

“I hope so. We’re so close to the birth date. I wanted him to know that.”

He doesn’t know how to reply, so he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. He was always good at lying, but why was it so hard to lie to you?

He tries to smile more warmly—look more warmly at you, but all you can see in his eyes is pity. It drives you insane.

“EZ, is there something you’re not telling me?” your voice screams suspicion. He starts to get nervous.

“No, of course not.” He looks at you hard, hoping you’ll believe his lie. It takes a moment for you to process what you see and hear before the suspicious glint falters and falls.

“Oh, okay.” you sigh in sadness. You have a feeling he knows something, but you’re not willing to push it. “He was supposed to choose the name.”

Another gentle squeeze of your hand. “He will come through. Don’t worry.”

You believe him. “You’re right. I’m probably just overthinking.”

EZ nods his head in agreement. “You’re just stressing yourself out; it’s not worth it.” There’s a pause as he kisses your temple, then speaks again, changing the topic slightly, “How have you been doing? Everything going alright with the pregnancy?”

“Yeah, we’re doing good. The nausea went away.” His still didn’t. “Now I’m just running to the bathroom every three minutes. Girl makes me wanna piss so bad.” You let out a chuckle—such a beautiful and peaceful sound. EZ feels like he could record it and play it over and over again before he falls asleep.

“That’s good… and exhausting.” He’s starting to feel more at ease again. You seem to be distracted and not noticing how oddly nervous he’s been acting, or even if you did see, you let him have the upper hand.

“It is exhausting. But we’re gonna get through it. For Neron.”

He nods in agreement. “For Neron.”

Such a beautiful betrayal.

The next time you see EZ, a few days have passed. The whole MC knows about Neron’s death, but not you—not yet. He lets you live in a state of not knowing just for a few more minutes before he knocks on your door and gives you the information that will ruin your life. Oh, wait, he did that—he ruined it by choosing to protect himself, get rid of the snitch. Snitches end up in ditches—they were right.

He raises his fist, presses the buzzer, and he can almost hear the heavy pats of your feet as you rush toward the door. You open it and greet him with a smile. You’ve looked through the Judas beforehand—smart girl.

“EZ?” That carefree smile falters as you notice the seriousness decorating his face. Your hand grips the doorknob tighter, knuckles turning pale.

EZ sighs and hangs his head. “You need to sit down.”

“What the fuck happened?” you ask, but EZ doesn’t respond.

He turns you around, closing the door before gently pushing you towards the living room and the couch in the middle. You listen to him and sit down, waiting for him to speak. Your leg bounces up and down in worry. The dark thoughts swirling in your head make you want to crawl out of your skin.

EZ cuts straight to the point. He knows you’d only get furious if he tried to tread around the issue.

“Neron’s dead,” he says simply—as if to just get the words out of his mouth. They leave a foul taste on his tongue. He’s not even looking at you because he knows already how badly he fucked up. He can hear your heart breaking into a million pieces as your brain struggles to register that information.

When it finally hits you, you gasp trembly.

“No. No, he’s not,” you try to deny his words, shaking your head furiously. Tears are already building up in your eyes, and they’re falling down in waterfalls down your cheeks before EZ can reach to wipe them away.

“I’m so fucking sorry. It’s my fault.” He sits beside you and takes your hand, raising it to his lips. He leaves a kiss on every single tip of your fingers. “I killed him. It’s all my fucking fault.”

The sobs wreck through your body like a tsunami, and you drown beneath their intensity as you cradle your bump. You don’t even hear him. You refuse to hear him.

EZ wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pushes it to rest on his chest. He can’t look at you so broken—so destroyed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His other palm rubs your back up and down in a motion that is supposed to be soothing, but it doesn’t do shit to make it hurt less. You let him comfort you, giving into his embrace as you weep and clutch the back of his kutte in tight fists.

EZ sits that way with you for a while, rubbing your back and keeping you close. He doesn’t speak, only offers his presence and affection as comfort. He knows if he opens his mouth again, he’ll admit to what he’s done—this time for real.

“How am I supposed to go on?” You sob into his chest, your whole body trembling.

EZ just holds you tighter, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. “One day at a time.”

“I’m supposed to raise our daughter on my own? That’s so fucking cruel. Why did the world take him away from me?” your words are almost muffled as you get them out through the tears and sobs.

He looks down at you, his face etched with guilt. He’s glad your head is pressed to his chest and you can’t see it. You’d put the puzzle pieces together faster than he could mutter a single word.

He rubs his thumb back and forth between your shoulder blades. “I don’t know. But you’re strong. I know you’re strong enough to get through this.”

He puts on a facade before placing a hand under your chin and lifting it so you can look him in the eye. “I know you are.”

“No, Ezekiel, I’m not. I can’t do this,” you argue, shaking your head furiously. “I want him back,” you cry out, and it breaks his heart even more. It was his fault. He did this to you.

“I know. I know.” EZ says this over and over again, rubbing circles on your back.

He stays the night, cradling you in his arms as you sob and scream. And then he stays another night and another day keeping you company and helping with daily tasks. You don’t even realize that weeks have passed, and he’s still there when you wake up and when you go to sleep.

He’s there holding your hand when your little girl is born and when she says her first word. He never left, taking on the role of being a dad figure for your child. It felt wrong, but you never stopped him, either.

You didn’t stop him when one night his lips found peace pressed against yours and when he rolled on top of you, giving you pleasure you haven’t felt for a long while. You didn’t stop him when he moved in and became a constant presence in your baby’s life. Before you even knew it, she was calling him ‘papa.’ It made your heart clench painfully.

EZ took the opportunity and treated it as his only chance at redemption. He wanted to give you the life you wanted to have with the man he took away from you.

Sometimes the guilt was too much, and he had to leave for a few days to get it back under control. But he always came back.

He was good at lying, after all—lying with his hands covered in blood. Such a beautiful betrayal.

#ezekiel ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #mayans m.c. #mayansmc #mayans #mayans mc #ez reyes #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper x reader #neron vargas x reader #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x female reader

[purplerain85]

The loss of Coco

Paring: Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Reader

Warning: angst, kind of mention of suicide by reader but it’s more of her cry for help, mental health issues due to the death of a loved one (soulmate), blaming Álvarez for her pain, swearing, so many tears.

A/N: I came across a Facebook clip and it just broke me. And all I could think of is how the reader would be months after the loss of Coco and how she blames Álvarez for her pain. I am ignoring the whole math mountain (Coco still had a drug addiction) and Hope.

Make sure you have tissues

Proof read by @withmyteeth and @yourwonkywriter thank you ladies so much 💗💗

Tags 🏷️ @withmyteeth @yourwonkywriter @raewritesfiction @darklydeliciousdesires @darqchilddaydreamz @redpoodlern @redwood-orginals @reyeswritesmc @chibsytelford @twistnet @twistneteclipse @nestorsgirlfriend @nessamc @blowmymbackout @drabbles-mc @rebelwrites @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna @challengeahellcat @indefiniteimagines

Other characters: Angel, EZ, Bishop, Creeper, Gilly, Nails, Hank, and Letty

It’s been 6 months Six long heartbreaking months and nothing ever seems to be getting better, the brain fog, your drinking has picked up, Letty tried to help you but she needed out of that house and left Santo Parde two months ago, you talk (well she text and you sometimes respond, but she is flourishing in Florida).

Angel is the main one from the club who checks in on you twice every single day to bring you food and see how you are doin g. He knows how broken you are but isn’t sure how to help you and you really think the only reason he comes around is because he feels bad for ignoring Coco.

You show up to the club as today is Angel’s birthday he wanted you to stop by and see Nails and walk over to the bar and ask for a rum and coke. “How have you been doing girl? I miss seeing your beautiful face around here” Nails ask.

You look at her and shrug “I’m still here, it’s not any less painful then when I got the phone call I still cry myself to sleep every night.” You say. Nails looks at you with sadness in her eyes as she doesn’t really know what to say. Other than she walk over and hugs you.

An hour later you are 6 drinks in and you are borderline drunk and then men come out of church and you see the one person who you were hoping and praying you wouldn’t see Álvarez and you can feel the anger and the hurt build ten times more. Most of the guys check in on you from time to time but Álvarez has never even reached out to you which surprised you in the beginning but eventually it just made you angry.

Álvarez looks at you and walks over and says “I know you blame me but I just did what I thought was good for the club” your shocked and look at him and raise your “the best for the club!? Are you fucking serious? Instead of helping him, you sent him away! Away from anyone who could actually help him! You just threw him away!”

Everyone has stopped what they are doing and watching you two Álvarez stares calmly back at you “look at you! You can’t even help yourself how would you have helped him? And what are you doing drinking that crap? You need to take better care of yourself. Especially if you want to get better, and in time it will!” He turns from you while the tears form in your eyes and in a split second you grab his gun and hold it to your jaw everyone gets up and but cautiously surrounding you.

You scream “What the Fuck! Nothing’s getting better, it’s only getting worse! Why isn’t anything getting getting better! It’s like I’m drowning in my own fucking head!” Angel walks closer behind you “I can’t do this shit anymore I need it to all stop for two seconds” Angel and EZ tackle you with EZ grabbing the gun from you and Angel holding you in a tight grip while you two crumble to the floor “I just need everything to stop!”

After the situation the night before you agreed to go to rehab and therapy and EZ has called for Álverez to step down as president because he and most of the rest of the crew including Creeper, Bishop, and surprisingly Nestor think that what happened with you was his fault and him acting like he didn’t do anything wrong doesn’t sit well with anyone. Álverez calls for a vote and he in unanimously voted out.

A year has past since that night you have made a completely 360 change. You sold Coco’s home and decided to move to a little island in Cuba and found love again with someone you never saw coming even though he was always there Angel.

Side not this is the clip that made me think of this and it just broke me

#mayans mc #johnny coco cruz #Johnny coco Cruz angst #johnny coco cruz x reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #heart been broke so many times #mentalwellness

[garbinge]

Motion Sick

Angel Reyes x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the fic a day challenge with me! Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Fluffy but light angst.

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

It was the middle of the day and you were traveling back home from a club errand with Angel. You might’ve had the day off but Angel didn’t and you figured if you were gonna snag anytime with him alone this was going to be it. Things had been busy between the club and the scrapyard. There wasn’t even a point in asking Angel if the errand he was running was for either because it likely had to do with both. All you knew is Angel had mentioned needing to take a ride to Santa Ana in the morning before he left your house and you met him at the clubhouse and hopped in the passenger seat of the van without any argument on his side. 

Angel didn’t mind the company, if anything he enjoyed it. These days it was rare you two got to do anything together besides roll over and shake the other to shut off the alarm so taking a ride together was like a date on the town for you. 

The ride up was smooth and quick, both of you wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible so that the rest of the day was your own without any responsibilities lingering over your head. The way back was more enjoyable. Angel took the long way back down the Pacific Coast Highway to give some romance to the trip, opting to stop at a whale watching point because he really wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. It was nice, it was something that had been missing between you two lately and this was his way of acknowledging it. 

As you got back on the road you started to fidget in the passenger seat. Finding a comfortable position was making itself hard as you moved around. 

“You alright? You can’t sit still.” Angel looked over at you as you switched to your 4th position in the last minute. 

“Yea, just feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.” You frowned and leaned forward to grab the handle that would easily adjust the seat back in hopes that would help. 

“You think it was the lookout dock? The waves and shit making you sick?” The worry grew in his voice as he slowed down on the highway, taking the opportunity to look at you longer verse the road to get a better understanding about what was going on. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. We were on solid foundation not like a dock or anything that was moving. Maybe I’m just getting antsy from the ride.” You brushed off his concern.

“Look, maybe you just need a break, we can stop and get some fuckin’ food or some shit.” Angel was starting to argue with you now, not out of spite, but from a genuine place. “You’re probably just motion sick. We’ve been in this van for a minute.” He had already begun to pull over at whatever food stop was coming up before you could put up a fight but it didn’t stop you from trying. 

“I don’t usually get motion sick,” your hand lifted to wave him off to continue driving until you almost immediately brought it to your mouth, “oh– I think I’m gonna puke.” 

Luckily the car was stationary as you opened the passenger door and vomited out of it. Angel thinking quickly to lean over and pull anything out of the way of your upchucking. 

“Damn querida. I thought you didn’t get motion sick.” He said when you finally stopped and used one of the napkins that was shoved in the side pocket of the car to wipe your mouth off. As he spoke you turned to him and lifted your middle finger which made him laugh. 

“I feel like shit.” You closed your eyes and leaned back in the seat. 

“You need anything? I’ll get the food to go, we can grab a spot in the grass or something, I’m sure we got a blanket somewhere back here.” Angel went into full solution mode. 

“If I sit on any blanket that’s in this van I’ll end up sicker than I am right now.” You let out a chuckle and let your head fall to the left to stare at Angel. He was on edge, you could tell. His arm was on the steering wheel and his body was twisted to look back at you. “Why don’t we find a convenient store, like a CVS or Rite Aid or some shit, I think I’ll get better if I get my hands on a gatorade and some saltines.” 

Angel was moving in seconds, he had put the car in drive and you were about to argue it but he spoke up. “I’m just moving it up a couple feet so you don’t step in your own vomit.” His smiled openly. 

“Angel the angel.” You teased him as you stepped out the van. 

The convenient store was close, it was a matter of minutes before you both entered the air conditioned building that was playing some top 40’s radio station through the speakers. The cold breeze already had you feeling better, the club van didn’t exactly have the best AC for an old overused vehicle. 

“Grab what you want, I’m gonna see if I can get you some of that motion sickness shit from the pharmacy, half the shit on the PCH is behind lock and key.” Angel placed a quick kiss on your head before walking towards the medicine aisle. “Oh and maybe pick up some Listerine or toothpaste!” His whole body turned around as he kept walking backwards with his nose scrunched up. 

That earned him another middle finger and a headshake, although, you knew he was right. Toothpaste and a toothbrush was the first thing you were grabbing on your way to grab the essentials but he didn’t need to be annoying about it. 

As you entered the toiletry aisle your eyes scanned the shelves. Mouthwash was first, and while it was a viable option, you knew brushing your teeth would be a greater benefit for both of you. As your eyes moved to the toothpaste, you saw the travel brush and paste kit and grabbed the first one you saw before walking down the rest of the aisle. You browsed the rest of the aisle, taking your time not wanting to leave the cooled store anytime soon. As you looked around your eyes stopped on a box of tampons. That’s when it hit you like a tons of bricks. The speed at which you took your phone out your backpocket was unmatched, all just for your thoughts to be confirmed by the date displaying on your phone. You were late. 

Without a second thought you grabbed the pink box that was to the right of the pads and tampons and flew to the bathroom. Luckily it was on the opposite side of where the pharmacy was so there was no chance you were going to run into Angel. 

3 minutes was beginning to feel like 3 days with how long it was taking. You had grabbed the digital test, which was likely the more expensive one but at this point you didn’t care. You stood over the sink staring at the flashing lines waiting for words to pop up on it. You could’ve taken the time to brush your teeth but you felt like if you took your eyes off the test, you’d miss something. 

You heard the digital beeping and the words appeared across the screen. 

Pregnant. 

“Holy shit.” 

You weren’t exactly sure how to feel but before you could really even process it, you were stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the aisles for Angel. 

He was in the toy section, gatorade and saltines in one hand and a squishmallow in the other. 

“Hey look! It kinda looks like Sally right? I know it’s a seal but they got the same fuckin’ eyes.” Angel held up the gray stuffed animal and compared it to his little brother’s dog. 

As you walked over to him and said nothing his smile started to fade. 

“You get sick again?” He asked a follow up question. 

Without saying anything you held up the pregnancy test for him to see. It took him a couple seconds to process what you were showing him before he was picking you up in the air in celebration. The squeal that left your mouth was full of shock but the laugh that came after was genuine. Angel was clearly excited about this and that sent a wave of relief through you that let you enjoy this. 

“Alright, alright, put me down you’re gonna make me sick again!” You spoke through another laugh. 

“What happened, I thought you don’t get motion sick.” His voice got deeper as he mocked you and put you down. 

“Yea I don’t, but apparently your kid does.” 

Angel’s smile grew even bigger at that sentence. You leaned over and grabbed the squishmallow from him and made your way to the front of the store to pay for everything you two had gathered up. 

“We gettin’ that?!” Angel lightly jogged to catch up to you. 

“Baby’s first toy?” You squished it against your front in a hug. 

Angel brought you into his side, throwing his arm around you as he left a soft his on the crown of your head. 

“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 

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