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#mayans mc x you
bumblesimagines · 6 months
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“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”
“i’d tap that.”
“your ass is your best quality.”
Angel Reyes
“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”
“i’d tap that.”
“your ass is your best quality.”
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
reminder that i do have a ko-fi if anyone has ever wanted to tip me!
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"Angel, what do you think of me?" It wasn't everyday you asked Angel Reyes for his opinion, but one disastrous date had left you feeling down and desperate for at least some comfort. Angel blinked at you, lips pressed to the rim of his bottle and brows slowly knitting in question. "Do you think I'm boring? Hopeless and destined for nothing?"
“Who the fuck said that? You’re great.” Angel scoffed and took one last swing of his beer, emptying the bottle completely and shoving it in the direction of the nearest prospect.
"I had a date last night and they said I was boring." You revealed in a mutter, a soft sigh slipping past your lips. Your first date in years and it ended with tears, wine, and ice cream. Angel winced.
"Fuck 'em. They don't know what their missing out on."
"What are they missing out on, Angel? I serve beers to criminals for a living and only have a one bedroom apartment to my name." You groaned and slumped down on the bar, face burying into your forearms. Angel exchanged a glance with the amused yet silent Ez beside him.
"Well, for starters, your ass is your best quality." Ez elbowed his side. "And, you have a great sense of humor. Besides, not everyone can serve beer to a motorcycle club and not piss themselves."
You laughed into your arms and lifted your head with a small smile. "My ass is my best quality."
"Exactly. I'd tap that."
"I'd be flattered but you'd fuck anything that breathes and has a hole, Angel."
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Hi and for the love of God hello 👋🏼 after going back and forth i’ve decided to try my hand at writing for the mayans boys and the sons we all know and love! Please feel free to hit up my ask box <3
Requests: Open
who i write for:
- Mayans MC
• Angel Reyes
• Ez Reyes
• Coco Cruz
• Nestor Oceteva
• Neron “Creeper” Vargas
• Bishop Losa
• Hank Loza
• Gilly Lopez
• Michael “Riz” Ariza
- Sons Of Anarchy
• Jax Teller
• Juice Ortiz
• Opie Winston
• Happy Lowman
• Herman Kozik
• Filip “Chibs” Telford
• Alexander “Tig” Trager
What i take requests for:
• Headcanons
• Preferences
• Would includes
• Most likely to’s
What i don’t take requests for:
• Smut
• Self harm of any kind - talking about the reader having a mental illness is fine but i’m not comfortable writing about them harming themselves
• Reader being related to any of the characters
• Toxic relationships - We’re all about healthy, loving relationships in this house!
any gifs used are not mine!
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Coming Home
A Coco Cruz x Reader(You) Imagine
Warnings:18+Only! Smut below the keep reading line!
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You stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm, sudsy water, the stress of the day leaving your tense body as you let the water soothe you. The relaxing smell of lavender-vanilla filled the room, your aromatherapy candle flickering away on the bathroom counter. Your phone went off, and the chorus to every time I close my eyes by Babyface blared into the quiet bathroom, which made you practically fall over the edge of the tub as your wet hands grabbed for the phone.
Listening impatiently while the automated voice spoke, you were bubbling over with excitement and nerves. “This is a prepaid call from—“Johnny Cruz,”—an inmate at Stockton DOC. To accept the charges, press the pound key.”
You always got giddy when you heard him say his name in between the recording’s voice whenever you received a call from him. So, quickly you did as it said and pressed the pound key.
“You there, niña?” You heard Coco ask over the phone.
“I’m here, baby. How’d it go?” You were almost too scared to ask, especially since the parole board denied him release the last time because he fought another inmate for grabbing your ass at a visitation a year ago.
“Not good.” His voice sounded so defeated and sad.
Slowly, you sat up, your heart dropping into your stomach. Not good? Those fuckers! You internally curse them. Coco hadn’t gotten caught doing anything over the past year, so what the fuck was their problem? You were about to ask him what happened when he cut you off. “For your pussy–‘cause we ain’t gettin’ out of bed for a week when I get home.”
He heard the bathtub water splash around as you got out in a hurry, smiling to himself, keeping his happy face pulled away from the other prisoners behind him in line. He couldn’t wait to come home to you and get settled back into club life. Fuck this place, he thought.
“They're letting you out, Coco?" You asked him in disbelief, almost worried you might have fallen asleep in the tub and had been dreaming this whole thing up. "You’re coming home?"
“Yeah, niña. I’m coming home.” You couldn’t help but squeal with excitement into the phone at his confirmation.
“Babyyy, I have so much to do! I have to get all your favorite foods. Oooh, and I can’t forget to have some joints rolled for you—oh shit, Letty’s going to freak when she finds out!” You were talking a million miles a minute at this point.
He laughed into the phone, turning to lean his other shoulder against the wall. “Querida, fuck food. I’m gonna eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Shiiit, you better be ready.” You could hear the smile in his tone, which made your body warm, and your pussy flutter in excitement at being filled by the man you loved once again.
“I’m so happy for you, Johnny!” You beamed, and you were. You’d been missing having him home, cuddled against you as you slept, his hand creeping around you in the mornings, playing with your pussy, until his fingers xxx movements stirred you awake. But mostly because you knew how lonely he got in there, constantly on edge, having to watch his back at all times. You knew how easy it was for Coco to get stuck in his head if he didn’t have a way to keep his head clear. Four cement walls, a grip of enemies waiting to catch him slipping, and not being able to have you there, next to him, to talk him out of his darkness, none of it helped calm his thoughts.
“I’m happy for us, babygirl,” he said, just as the automated recording decided to tell the two of you that his funds were running low and the call would have to end.
“Damn, I gotta go. I’ll call tomorrow morning, okay? Oh, and tell the prospect he better not be late with my bike. I don’t wanna be here a second longer than I fuckin’ have to.”
“I’ll let him know, but I probably won’t sound so mean when I tell him,” you teased. “I love you, Coco.”
“I love you too, niña. Gimme besos.” He smiled when he heard you kiss him through the phone. The call then ends, Coco going back to the table with his homies, and you back into the bath to tease yourself beneath the soapy water.
———————
Coco stepped out from the prison gate. His kutte and a pack of his preferred smokes were handed to him by EZ, who then turned to tell Nestor to head back with the trailer that had brought Coco's bike to the prison.
“What’s up, boy scout?" Coco greeted him as they clasped hands and pulled each other into a one-armed hug.
“They finally let your demon ass out, I see.” EZ smiled as he spoke.
“Yeah, fuckin’ crazy, right? Let’s get the fuck to the clubhouse before they change their minds. I’m tryin’ to get home to my lady already.” Coco threw his leg over his bike, placing his helmet on his head before starting it up, finally feeling like himself for the first time since being locked up.
“Good idea, before they find the mistake they made in your paperwork,” EZ teased his newly released brother.
They each pulled away from the prison, both men flipping the massive building off as they left. With each mile, Coco felt less and less smothered, but he’d still have to meet his parole officer in the morning, who made it clear that he’d be popping up randomly on the mayan to make sure he was keeping to his parole terms.
———————
“Look at all the ass and tits that showed up for this ugly ass cabrón.” Gilly shook his head, the rest of them laughing with him.
“I don’t give a fuck, what those hyna’s out there got goin’ on.” Coco smirked, taking a drag from his cigarette. “My dick is good where it’s at—attached to my body without one of Angel’s VD outbreaks that are probably going around.”
“Or is it the fact that your baby-luv is waiting at home for you?” Bishop mocked, making fun of the contact name he had set for you on his new phone, which was currently flashing across his screen as it vibrated on the table.
“Yeah, and if you saw my girl naked, y'all would be calling her whatever she wanted, too.” Coco’s head shot over to Angel as he was about to say something. "But you won’t, so don’t even think about it," he told the sultry mayan that had tried to get in your pants long before Coco saw you but failed miserably when your attention was immediately pulled to the scrawny and a little crazy mayan they called Coco.
“You sure you don’t wanna hand her over? Look at all that potential out there, bro.” Angel tipped his head to the room full of women as they headed out of the templo room to join the party.
“Not a fuckin’ chance! Look, all I fucking know is, my girl is gonna have to sit on a bag of frozen peas for at least a week after I’m done with her ass. Yeah, fuck all this. I’m out!” They all laughed with him, knowing he was due a good fuck, saying their goodbyes to him quickly, Coco dodging women with respectful side hugs.
The ride home was torture, his heart pounding faster the closer he got to his house. His mind flashes through memories of you both in each other's arms, rolling around in the bed, or the times you both munched on cereal in the kitchen at two am after one of your many rounds of sex. God, he missed you, and he was gonna show you just how much as soon as he got his ass home to you.
———————
Coco pulled his keys from his pocket, but as he went to shove the key in the hole, the door swung open. Letty stood in front of him with a blanket wrapped around her, her tired face lit up by her now huge smile. “So tell me, did you drop the soap? You did, didn’t you?” She laughed when he rolled his eyes, dropping the blanket so she could wrap him in a hug. “We missed you so much!” She sighed, happy Coco was back home safe, so the three of you could go back to being the dysfunctional family you were.
“You’re a fuckin’ punk, you know that, querida?” He walked into the house, searching for you, and a bit weirded out that you hadn’t jumped him already.
“Where is she, Leticia?” He couldn’t help the smile already forming on his face at the excitement of seeing you.
“She crashed out. She was nervous about you coming home, so we might have had a few shots,” she said with a guilty smile, laying back down on the couch. “Said she was going to bed.”
“A few, huh?” He knew it had to be more than a few. Your tolerance wasn’t that low. “Take your lil’ hooligan ass to bed. The couch is uncomfortable. Oh, and I missed your annoying ass, too.” He winked sweetly at her, heading to his room while shedding his kutte and the flannel beneath it. When he pushed the door open, his eyes landed right on you as you stood in front of the bed. Your lacy lingerie barely covered all his favorite parts of you, your smile sweet, even though your body looked devilish.
Time stands still for him at that moment. He was finally home, praying silently that this wasn't another dream he'd have to wake up from. Undoing his belt, he let his jeans drop to the floor, white boxers the only thing left on his body as he stepped towards you, his hands pulling you into him by your hips. It wasn’t until he felt the warmth of your body against his that he realized it wasn’t a dream at all. He was here with you, next to you, somewhere he had craved to be for the last five years.
Your smiles were matching in happiness. Coco, finally breaking the silence. “Tell me you missed me as much as I missed you, niña.” He pulled you into his body, the sweet smell of you intoxicating him and driving him crazy.
Your hands came to his tattooed chest. “Let me show you how much.” You slowly ran them down his body, your fingers hooking on the waistband of his boxers. Slowly you slid them down his legs, your eyes never breaking from his lust-filled stare.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you!” He cupped the back of your neck, kissing you desperately as his other hand undid your bra with ease.
“Am I still your pretty girl?” You smirked, your cheeks heating as he stared back at you, his head tilting, Coco eyeing your breasts as they softly bounced when they are released from your bra, lips turning up into his famous crooked smile.
“Yeah, you’re still my pretty lady. See, look at what you do to me,” he groaned when you let him guide your hand to his hard cock. You moaned into his mouth when his lips crashed against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, Coco desperate to taste all of you. Have all of you again.
You dipped your fingers into the front of your panties, gathering your desire for him before you wrapped your slick hand around the thickness of his cock and began to stroke.
His body stiffened while you stroked him up and down. Stopping, you used his precum to tease your thumb over the swollen bell of his dick. Tingles traveled from the hand wrapped around him to your now dripping core. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, mouths still locked on one another in a heated kiss.
“I need you, Coco!” You blurted after breaking from the kiss, panting hard. He could see how much you meant it in your teary eyes and how you pressed yourself so close to him, your fingers coming to play with the short hair at the back of his neck.
“Lay down, querida. Let me get you right.” He smiled, tapping your ass, kissing you with passion as he backed your body up the bed. He moved to trail soft kisses down your neck, slowly moving lower, his tongue flicking over your already pebbled nipple, sucking on it, then nipping teasingly at it. The sweet sensation had your back arching, desperate for his mouth to move lower.
You looked down at him as he lowered himself so that his lips were almost touching your pussy. Dark, hooded eyes looked up at you. “Is this what you want, niña?” He kissed the slit of your drenched pussy, your cum already shining on his lips. Your little whimper makes him smirk against you before slipping his tongue along your seam. The teaser in him couldn’t help but barely graze your eager clit with the point of his tongue.
“Please, Coco, don’t do me like that!” Your desperate plea had him feral, so he dove in, mouth attacking your pussy desperately.
“Fuck, I’ve missed being able to taste you!” The vibrations from his groan over your swollen bud had your thighs quivering as he held them open. His nose flicked teasingly over your pulsing clit, knowing how much you loved it when he used his whole face to get you off.
Sitting up, he stroked his long dick. “Come here, babygirl.” You obliged him, scooting your ass down the bed and raising your hips. Leaning down, his mouth connected with yours as he ran the tip of his dick through your soaked petals, teasing it inside you just enough to open you up for him, your gasp making him throb, your eyes blowing wide as he slowly filled you to the brim.
“Oh my god, Coco!” You cried out, nails digging into the flesh of his back, his cock slowly dragging against your walls before he thrust himself deeper inside you, desperate moans stifled by his hot mouth against yours.
“That’s it, mama, take this dick.” He began to lose control of his pace, fucking into you like it was his last time. Carnal passion, and five years of not being able to be inside you, made him lose control. “Shit, that pussy’s even tighter than before!” His balls were slapping against you, the sound of your sex filling the room.
“Oh, fuck, oh, oh my god! Coco—you feel too goood,” you whined out, your pussy squeezing him when his curved dick hit that special spot deep inside you, a sharp pain shooting through you as you tried to run from it.
“Nuh-uh, niña, don’t you fucking run from me–bring that pussy back here.” His hands grabbed at your thighs, pulling you back down the bed, before he shoved your knees to your chest, his throbbing dick hitting you even deeper now. His hands helped hold your legs against you while his eyes stayed glued to his now slick cock stroking the depths of your tight cunt. Watching as he disappeared inside the wetness of you, over and over.
His eyes fell back to yours, brow furrowing, completely stopping his thrusts when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. Releasing your legs, he came down to your level, his cock still buried deep inside you. His long, lean frame hovering over you, your legs hooked around his waist, keeping him close to you.
Kissing away each tear that rolled down your face, he feathered your cheek with his thumb as he consoled you.
“Don’t cry, mi amor, I’m here,” he promised, resting his forehead against yours, his hips starting to rock into you slowly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss that had him intoxicated. His cold heart reawakened at the love so clearly visible in your hazy eyes.
That is how the two of you spent the next few hours, slowly working each other over, making up for the lost time, limbs wrapped tightly around one another in fear the other would disappear.
———————
2 Am
You were nestled against the side of him as he puffed on his cigarette, his other arm wrapped around you, fingers on your back massaging you softly. “I know what you’re thinking.” He tipped his head down, kissing the top of your head, his lips tugging into a smile against you.
“Say it on three.” You started counting down, kissing his tattooed chest between each number you spoke.
Right on time, you both said the same thing.
“Coco puffs!”
Sitting up, you jumped on top of him, your naked body bouncing excitedly on him as you kissed him sweetly, your smile huge against his lips.
“It’s like I never left.” His arms wrapped around you from behind, kissing your neck as he held the blanket around the both of you. The two of you wobble to the kitchen, trying desperately to keep your laughter quiet. That’s exactly how it felt, just like old times.
————————
"Ugh! Get a room.” You heard Letty groan in disgust behind Coco. Giggling, you peeked over his shoulder to see her grab a bowl from the cabinet and come over to stand next to you both.
“You should be asleep,” he said over the spoonful of chocolate puffs you had just given him.
“I know, but—I missed the three of us hanging out.” She poured the cereal into her bowl, shrugging nonchalantly.
Coco looked at Letty, then at you, smiling with you. “She missed us hanging out?” He exaggerated his shock, putting his hand on her forehead, looking at you with worry. “Has she finally gone loco in cabeza?” He laughed when his daughter threw her middle finger up at him, smiling herself.
“Yeah, it’s ‘cause I had to listen to Y/n’s horrible music on the way to school every day.” She smirked, pouring some milk into her bowl.
“Oh, damn. Yeah, I’d go a little crazy, too.” He smiled, both snickering when you looked offended, placing your palm against your chest and gasping.
“My music taste isn’t that bad.” You pouted, Coco kissing your lips and winking at you.
“Sorry, niña, but I’m gonna have to go with Letty on this one.” They both laughed a little harder at you.
“Okayyy—I can already see we’re going back to two-on-one again.” You rolled your eyes but began to laugh along with them, playfully smacking Coco’s shoulder.
You couldn’t help but smile at the two of them while they joked around in the kitchen, laughing and reminiscing with each other. Your heart was content, and your mind at peace because Coco was here now, home where he belonged, happiness finally returning to the Cruz home, where it had been missing for so long.
The End!
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ficnation · 9 months
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Chapter 2: The Guilt She Bears
Series: “She” Word count: 2,5k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader; Past! Angel Reyes x Luisa Espina Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5 episode 7, mayans mc typical warnings A/n: I’m starting to enjoy all of this angst muahaha
Main Masterlist
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A few days have passed since Luisa’s death. Angel tries to return to the life he once knew, but it isn’t easy. He tries not to think about Luisa, but the apartment they once shared reminds him of her every second of the day. Every moment he spends there makes it harder not to reach for a bottle of cheap whiskey and the company of another woman.
One day he shows up at your doors, hastily packed bags in his hands as he supports Maverick’s bottom with one muscular arm. Angel’s fist shakes as he raises it to knock on your door. The sound echoes in his ears. He wonders if you’re even home, he forgot to text you before getting in the car, but something in his heart tells him you will be there. You’re always close when he needs you.
As Angel waits, staring intently at the door, each minute feels like an hour. The weight of worry and anticipation seems to become physically tangible. Finally, his impatience wins, and the man reaches for the doorknob, but the door is slowly pushed open from inside before he can make contact.
The door opens just an inch so you can peer out at the intruder with a grimace. You look exhausted, your hair is all over the place, and your eyes tell him you haven’t slept in a while. You give the impression of someone who has been through hell and is struggling to survive. On top of all that, you seem stressed and worn out, ready to give in at any moment. Angel knows he doesn’t look much better, but seeing you like that still worries him.
The grimace falls from your face when you recognize him, and you open the door wider. You see the bags he’s holding in his hands as he stands before you, your expression turning into one of pure confusion.
“Angel? What are you doing here?” you ask him with a raspy voice. You notice Maverick in his other arm. The baby looks just as tired as his father, his big brown eyes drooping sleepily.
“Please, can I come in?” His voice is pleading even though he knows you’d never refuse him that.
You nod, stepping back out of the way to let him in. He can feel your eyes studying him intently as he walks inside. You watch his every move, every breath, and every blink.
“What’s going on?” You grab Maverick from his arms, holding him against your chest as you kiss the crown of his head softly.
Angel heads over to the couch and sets his bags next to it, letting himself fall onto the furniture heavily. He ignores your question for now, and you refrain from asking again, focusing instead on the child in your hold.
“Is he okay? Does he feel better?” you question, observing the little boy. He’s so quiet and tired. You wonder if he can’t sleep without his mommy, if he can sense her absence in his life.
“He’s okay. Just doesn’t sleep well lately,” your friend explains with a deep sigh.
“Oh… poor baby,” you say to Maverick, caressing his soft hair. The child presses his face into the crook of your neck, grabbing your shirt in his tiny fists. You turn your gaze back toward Angel. “What’s in all those bags?”
He doesn’t respond to that question, instead cutting right to the point. “I can’t be there anymore. Everything reminds me of her,” the man confesses, his eyes pleading.
You pause, trying to understand what he’s asking. “You want to... live here?” you finally say, your expression conveying your confusion. It’s not something you had anticipated. It hasn’t even crossed your mind.
Angel nods, shamefully hanging his head. “Please, it’s either you or my dad.”
You bite your bottom lip, noticing how abashed he is to ask you this. Angel has always been so strong and independent that you never expected him to need you this much. Even when he was at his worst, drinking himself into oblivion, he has never turned up to your door asking for a place to stay. Not even once. He was always the one making sure you were alright. But you know the circumstances are different this time.
“Angel,” you begin, and the man sitting on your couch prepares for you to say no. “You know that you’re always welcome here.”
He sighs in relief, some of the tension disappearing from his muscles as he slumps down against the couch. He thanks you wordlessly with an appreciative nod of his head.
“What about your dad?” you inquire, meeting his tired brown eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t want to live with him, but he’s old, you know. He needs his sleep and I don’t wanna be a burden,” your friend explains. “Not that I’m not gonna be a burden to you but—”
You cut him off before he can doubt himself even more and try to explain something that doesn’t need to be explained. “No, no, Angel, you’re not a burden. Trust me,” you reassure him, “you and Maverick are more than welcome here.”
You know their company might help you too. You have been lonely lately more than ever. The nights seemed too long and restless as you kept overthinking every little thing—the guilt swallowing your whole being, drowning you in its darkness. You kept thinking day and night—what could you’ve done to save Luisa, what could you’ve done to take her place and die that night instead of her.
“I’m not sure where I’ll be in a few months. My lease is almost up. But for right now, and as long as you need it to be, my home is your home.” You look down at Maverick, who’s fallen asleep in your arms, the corner of your lips arching as you kiss his head softly.
A faint smile crosses Angel’s face as he watches the two of you together. It’s painful to know his mommy will never hold him like that again—will never kiss him like that again, but he cherishes the fact that at least you’re there for him and his son. You bring them the comfort—the love they need so desperately right now.
“I have a spare room.” Your voice breaks through Angel’s thoughts. His eyes follow you as you step toward the archway and nod your head in the direction of one of the doors across the corridor.
You can feel the nervousness radiating off him when he follows you. He’s uneasy at the prospect of crashing here, at your house. It’s not like he hasn’t been here before—he has—many times, sometimes with Luisa or Maverick and other times by himself, but he’s never spent the night.
“I don’t have a crib, but we can arrange something. Get the one from your house or get a new one,” you offer, opening the wooden door and stepping inside. You make a gesture with your hand to bring Angel’s attention to the room.
He looks around curiously. The room isn’t too fancy, but it’s cozy and bright. There’s a bed, a small dresser, and other minor furniture. The walls are a light blue color, with a few clouds painted onto them to give the feel of a dreamlike peace. You can tell that Angel likes it by the way he takes it all in with sparkling eyes, the corner of his mouth curving up.
“I can bring it. I planned on that,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I knew you wouldn’t have those stuff.” He sets the bags down by the wall, the tips of his fingers trailing over one of the painted-on clouds.
Maverick fusses in his sleep, still cuddled up to your body. You hum softly, caressing his back. “He’s finally getting some good sleep,” you whisper, a smile crossing your face.
“He feels safe with you.”
Angel’s words are simple, but nevertheless, they stir something inside your heart. Something you’ve buried deep within a long time ago.
The two of you remain silent for a few more minutes. You take in the fact that your friend will be living with you, sharing your space—your mornings, evenings, and nights. The thought of it makes you feel peaceful in a way you haven’t felt before.
“We can take out the mattress from the bed frame and place it in the corner of the room,” you propose, making Angel look at you confused. You roll your eyes at him. “So Maverick doesn’t roll off the bed,” you explain further.
“Yeah, that’s smart,” he agrees, nodding his head at your idea. It feels like his mind is somewhere else.
Your eyes soften, and you giggle softly as the realization hits you. Angel’s head is in the clouds, almost literally. “Well, my hands are kinda busy, so you have to figure it out yourself.”
It takes your words a minute to reach the man. He shakes his head and looks at you, confused. You repeat the sentence, and Angel chuckles softly—the tension relieved by a bit of humor. Just like when you first met him, your heart can’t help but soften at the sight of his smile.
“Oh, you’re funny. Just wait until I’m holding Maverick,” he says, moving past you toward the bed.
He kneels down in front of it and tries to lift it up without success. You notice his struggle and almost let out a very unladylike snort, but you catch it at the last second, not wanting to wake the baby in your arms. Angel doesn’t look like he wants to ask you for help—his manly pride is not allowing it in this matter.
Knowing fully well he won’t be able to figure it out on his own—you decide to save him the embarrassment. “It’s attached to the bed frame. You have to reach underneath and pull the elastic loose,” you guide him, amusement in your eyes.
Angel listens to your instructions and reaches under the bed. He feels out the elastic and begins to pull at it. It takes some effort, but he’s successful in freeing the mattress. He straightens up and lifts it off the bed frame, placing it in the corner of the room.
His brown eyes look down at his little son, cuddled up in your arms. “He looks comfy,” he says softly. “He’s still asleep?”
You walk up to the mattress and place Maverick in the middle, the mattress barely dipping beneath his weight. “Sleeps like a rock. Just like his daddy.”
“So small,” Angel whispers quietly, his eyes glued to the boy’s tiny body—to his clenched fists and his small chest, rising with every steady breath, to his round pink cheeks and the little waves of his hair. His little miracle.
You look back at your friend, tears prickling in your eyes. You know you can both see so much of her in Maverick. The resemblance to his mommy was painfully evident. It was hard for both of you to look at his innocent face and be reminded of what you’ve lost.
Angel notices the tears threatening to escape your eyes. He feels responsible, knowing his presence has indirectly brought you to tears. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes in a whisper, his hand reaching out to gently caress your arm.
“No, I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting just as much as I do.” You wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt. You stand straight, stepping out of Angel’s reach and nodding at him in appreciation.
“Do you want to get some rest? You look like hell,” you say, glancing at him.
He still hasn’t taken his kutte off; he looks exhausted and worn down. But he still refuses with a shake of his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
You know it’s a lie, but you don’t push.
“Come on, I will make us some tea.”
You walk into the kitchen, Angel rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve the headache he caused himself by the lack of sleep and food. You take out two mugs from one of the cupboards above as your friend moves to lean on the counter beside you.
“How are you holding up?” He can easily guess the answer to this question, but he still lets it slip out of his mouth, concern in his voice.
You’ve known Luisa for years; you’ve known her before Angel has even joined her world. The lack of her quiet presence in your life is devastating—sometimes, it just makes you want to blow your brains out. But you know you wouldn’t be able to do that—not when you had people who still loved you and needed you there. And you know Angel is one of them; he cares about you probably more than he cares about himself. The two of you have grown much closer after Luisa’s death. In the span of those few days, you became each other’s lifelines.
“Just getting through, I guess... I miss her a lot.” You let out a deep sigh. “How are you holding up?”
“It’s been hard. Especially—” Angel pauses; he hesitates, unsure if it’s something he should share with anyone. He clears his throat, his voice breaking slightly. “Seeing him… It’s a constant reminder.”
You sense the pain in his words, the struggles he goes through every day. It kills you to hear it. You squeeze his hand in yours for a second, wordlessly showing him your support.
You can tell the conversation took its toll on Angel. He remains nearby, not wanting to leave your side. You fill the kettle and place it on the stove, turning around to lean against the counter next to your friend.
“I miss her,” the man admits; he wraps his tattooed arms around himself. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I thought I was just dreaming.”
“It’s tough,” you nod in understanding.
“I always knew someday we would have to say goodbye. I always knew that,” Angel continues, his eyes gazing off into the distance. “But I didn’t think it would be so soon.”
He turns his attention to you. You can see that there are so many things he wants to get off his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start. You reach for his hand to hold it in yours, to comfort him. You wish you had the ability to make it all better, but there’s not much you can offer him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles out, his voice so shy and quiet you can barely hear him. “I’m sorry that you have to be here for me when I’m like this.”
“I don’t have to do anything, Angel.” You squeeze his hand to make him look you in the eyes. “I want to be there for you.”
You watch as his eyes fill with so much love and gratitude. He looks like he wants to pull you close, hold you in his arms, and cry it all out. But he fights it, trying his best to stay afloat.
“I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’d be miserable by yourself. Now, at least you have some company,” you joke, trying to change the topic. It was starting to be too much; you could feel the darkness of guilt crawling up the walls of your brain. You couldn’t save her. You did nothing to save her.
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artsninspo · 17 days
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"Best-friends"
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plot: Best friends shouldn't have steamy dreams of each other. they shouldn't be the subject of each other's daydreams. they shouldn't be jealous when you flirt with other ... or should they? Angel's your best friend, but lately you've been pulling away in order to understand your growing feeling for your oldest friend. Feeling the distance angel stops by making all your feelings a little more real.
pairing: angel reyes x Reader
warnings: sweet 🥰 & steamy 🌶️
word count: 2.1K
authors note: hi, so I promised a draft purge months ago this is a little mayans imagine i've had for awhile for Angel, are we team Angel or EZ? Or both? Also, follow @afewfantasies for more like this.
*************************************
You guess the saying is true, men and women can’t be friends without one of them catching feelings. Unfortunately, this time it’s you who’s been bitten by the bug. You and Angel have been friends for so long it feels like he’s always been a part of your life. So much so that your family knows and welcomes him. You weren't always as close as you are now but in the past six months you’ve found yourself thinking about him more than usual. Stealing looks while he laughs, getting a little jealous when he flirts with the girls around the club and missing him more than you should when he goes on runs. Instead of leaning into it you've been trying to pull away and get a grip on ballooning emotions. In true Angel fashion he’s shown up anyways to complete a project you asked him to do since last month. You hand him a glass of fresh lemonade and he takes it wiping the sweat from his brow.
“I'm starting to think this friendship is unequal,” he huffs, taking another sip. You smile looking at the fruits of his manual labour. He’s built you two bookcases in the past hour. Aside from your need for a place to house your hobby, there's a benefit to having Angel performing the task in his wife-pleaser, slightly sweaty, muscles bulging as he lifts the heady wood, searching through piles of brackets, bolts and screws assembling them. His arms, his hands, his attention. Swallowing you look away from him trying to get a grip…
“You do the physical labour and I do the intellectual” you smile tapping the wood.
“Hmm, that’s how this works?” he asks looking up as he slides another shelf into place.
“Yup” you smile “Looks good”
“Where do You want them?” He asks standing. He’s substantially taller than you.
“Over there” you point. He moves them into place without struggle, looking down you find they're on wheels.
“You change your mind too much. I’m not gonna put my back out” he huffs in his angel way and you flip him off playfully.
“While my indecision marinates, my mom wants to know if you want to stay for dinner?” you ask.
“I thought we were going out to eat later?” he asks, raising a brow.
“You know how they are about home cooked meals versus spending money and eating out” you roll your eyes and he smiles.
“Why don’t we eat here then and hangout after?” He offers.
“Ok” you smile and repeats it mockingly in your exact tone. He’s missed you. You hadn't been around lately and it was grating on his nerves. He’d stay up late sometimes staring at the ceiling wondering if there was someone else you were spending your time with. He’d even woken up in cold sweats from nightmares of seeing you out with someone else.
You end up at Angels where you spend almost as much time as you do at your own home. It’s in desperate need of decoration and a feminine touch. He wouldn’t even have cookware and dishware if it weren't for you.
“Come on, the sick shit is about to start” he calls like a big kid from the couch. You smile relishing in the moments where he’s unguarded and animated. Where the smile overtakes the intimidating appearance of a large man with a muscular build and tattoos a part of a motorcycle club.
“Almost done” you shout, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.
“Y/N!” He shouts impatiently and you wash your hands quickly heading to see the action beginning. You sit beside him and he kisses the top of your head wrapping an arm around you. It’s a level of intimacy you don’t share with anyone else. You hold him back and he puts your legs over his. Your mom has said a thousand times that you’re too close to not be together. She thinks it’s a recipe for disaster and right about now you believe her. You don't know when you fell asleep but you wake up to Angel carrying you.
“It’s alright, I got you” he whispers, carrying you into his bed. You doze off again and feel him put a shirt over your tank before peeling off your leggings. You stir again when he comes back smelling like he just had a smoke. He heads to the bathroom. He gets into the bed gingerly considerate of your sleep. Sleepily you scoot over to his warm body and his arms find themselves around yours. You fall asleep in no time.
———-
It’s been awhile since you've  been woken up to morning wood. Angel's dream must be a good one. You smile sliding away from the active appendage and head into the bathroom. Evidence of your proximity is all over. You have a section in his bathroom. When you lift the face wash you smile because it’s lighter than usual. He’s been using it too. You find the dishwasher emptied  and start on breakfast. Angel comes in half an hour later looking like a daydream, with bedroom hair and sleepy eyes.
“Smells good” He mutters.
“I tried” you admit putting a plate in front of him. 
“What are you up to today?” He asks.
“Putting my books away”
“Those things are filthy” He jokes, eating the bacon with his hands like a caveman.
“Whatever” you roll your eyes and he smiles all the way to his eyes very amused.
“Aww she’s blushing” he teases.
“Shut up” you laugh sitting with your own plate.
“What’s up, you’ve been a little distant. Work or mama stressing you out?” He asks attentively. There’s no hiding from him.
“Maybe both”
“You don’t need the job. I told you you can manage the bar” he offers in a bid to keep you close.
“I didn’t go to school to manage the bar.”
“So what, you're gonna be like this for longer?” He asks.
“Explain how I’m being?” you ask suspiciously.
“Not in the moment.” He says “In your head and not letting me in” he says.
“We’ll I'm working through some things”
“What?” he panics internally.
“Personal things” you shrug casually looking into your plate.
“Come on!” He laughs. “We’re practically one person” he snaps, tossing his fork into the plate and sitting back.
“I’m getting my period, who knows it may just pass” you lie.
He deadpans, “You don’t think I know you get your period at the beginning or end of the month. You just lied” he says and you laugh shocked at his attentiveness.
“Angel!” you laugh shocked but he’s not amused.
“You’re seeing someone aren’t you? One of those sissy pretty boys you know I won’t approve of” he says making you smile.
“No, I’m not” you affirm and he relaxes a touch.
“Not a pretty boy?” He raises a brow.
“I'm not seeing anyone” you tell him honestly but it doesn't settle him.
“Y/N, you can tell me so I can look into him. You’ve only been here once this week” he says and you sit on his lap. It's what made Angel different from the rest of the guys you'd been friendly with. He wasn’t trying to control you, he'd be right by your side when the shit got sticky. He’d let you live and he’d clean up all the mess without judgement.
“I’m not seeing anyone, there’s no one you need to kill. I’ve just been trying to get my shit together” you explain and he holds you close.
“You can get your shit together here. There’s enough space for the both of us.”
“What happens when you decide to go steady with one of the barfly’s?” you ask leaning into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
“Not gonna happen” He laughs holding you close.
“Remind me to take you back to the gym. Gotta get you better at boxing in case one of these creeps you don't want to tell me about gets out of hand.” he says. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. You feel compelled to tell him the full truth. You get up and pour yourself some water.
“You’re doing it again, wait did one of the guys say or do something?” He stands.
“No, the guys are well, they're great in their own special way…” you shrug, turning your back to him.
“Y/N, you’re killing me here” Angel snaps.
“Angel, don’t feel weird about this okay?”
“No promises” he huffs, leaning forward attentively.
“I’ve been having, I don’t know…” you trail, having never been here before.
“Y/N spit it out” Angel says worriedly.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what us together would be like” You admit. He stills for a while before he finally blinks and his posture relaxes. When he finally takes a breath he places a hand on his heart. His eyes close and he shakes his head in amusement.
“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again” he warns with a smile. It throws you for a loop. 
“I’m here thinking you’re hurt or sick or in danger” Angel snaps.
“I’m not sure I’m not” you joke and he smiles coming over.
“Way better than those books” he says standing in front of you closing the space between the both of you and running his hands down your shoulders to hold both of your hands.
“Huh?” you ask looking up at him.
“Us together, it would be way better than those books” he smiles. Your cheeks burn before you smile back. “It’s about time hermosa” he smiles leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. It’s the first and hopefully the first of many.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.
“It means I’ve been waiting for you to come around for awhile now” he says candidly.
“Since when?” you laugh shocked.
“Since the pool party” he says and that was nearly a year ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask.
“Showing you was better” he says and you think of all the ways our connection has evolved this year. You stand against the counter and he closes the space between you again. He kisses you harder this time. You make out like teenagers and it sends my heart racing. You’re breathless when it ends and you rest your head on his chest. He rubs circles onto your back.
“I just knew you were a good kisser,” he mumbles.
“I need to sort my room out, we can pick this back up later” you tell him wanting more but needing some time to process your excitement and all the new info.
“Why? You don’t need those books anymore” he says, appealing to every one of your senses.
“They aren’t all about sex Angel, just the few you happened to pick up” you reason and he shakes his head knowing it's another half truth.
“You into that shit? The guy getting a little rough and being dominant?” He asks playfully, grabbing you by the neck. He’s never been rough before and your smile answers the question. 
His eyes close in appreciation and excitement. “Shit” he smiles, coming in for another kiss. This one is soft in spite of your acceptance or his rougher side. It’s perfect though.
“You can tell me what you’re into when I’m done” you smile pushing him away determined not to walk into your home freshly fucked after a night out. After all the waiting you and Angel need more than a few hours, all day and all night.
“I’m a simple man,” he says in surrender. “Pretty sure I’ll like anything you do to me” he says, making you laugh.
“Walk me out” you tell him like you would any other time. He gets the door of your car for you as usual but when he hugs you he takes a handful of ass.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he says, validating your feelings.
“Make it a habit” you whisper, kissing his cheek. Angel steps back, closing the door with a full heart and a stiffy.
“Plan to” he smiles knowing there's absolutely no way he's gonna be able to keep his hands off of you. Not even after he's touched every inch of your skin and given you every inch of him. Not after you become a Reyes or after you have a little one making your stomach swell. Not after your home is filled with children and he has to sneak into the bathroom for some alone time in the shower. Not when his hair is more salt than pepper, not when his hands are too weathered to ride his bike anymore. 
Not ever.
*
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bullet-prooflove · 6 months
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Problem Child: Angel Reyes x Reader
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Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics
Sequel to Valeria
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Ten minutes…
Ten minutes is what you allow yourself to grieve, to cry, to feel all of the emotions that are coursing through your system in the aftermath of the revelation that Angel has a daughter.
It’s agony, this feeling in your chest. You’ve felt it before after your Nana died and you feel it again as you sit in your car outside of Angel’s house. Your chest’s tight, and you think about that baby, left all alone on the porch, the same way you were all those years ago.
Anything could have happened. Someone else could have taken her, the two of you may have decided to go out instead, Angel may have come over to yours. Lord knows how long she could have been out there. These are the thoughts that ramble through your head as you sit there with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.
There is no doubt that the baby is Angel’s. You’ve seen pictures of him as a child and Valeria is the spitting image of him. You wonder where this leaves the two of you, if Skylar genuinely couldn’t cope or if she did this to teach him a lesson.
She’s your problem now… The letter had read.
Barely a couple of weeks old and already labelled a problem.
You think your mother must have said something similar to your Nana when she’d dropped you off.
You wipe the tears away from your cheeks with the back of your hand, before tilting the rearview mirror to face you. You stare back at your reflection and take a deep breath.
You know what you have to do, someone needs to take control because you know right now that Angel isn’t in a condition to do it. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him, you know he’s not going to cope, not on his own. He needs some stability, someone who can remain firm, who can guide him when he falters.
You pick up your phone and thumb through the contacts until you find the name that you’re searching for.
“Felipe. It’s me.” You say when he picks up the phone. “Angel needs you.”
***
You’re not coming back. Angel knows that and it devastates him. It feels like his whole life is crashing down around his head, like he can’t catch a second to breath. He cradles the baby to his chest, his lips brushing over her soft skin. He has to push all of that aside, he has to think about Valeria because she has to be his priority right now.
His gaze comes to rest on his father. Felipe is seated at the kitchen table, the letter from Skylar clasped in his hands as he studies it.
“Lila’s not coming back.” Angel says quietly.
“Give her time.” Felipe says as he sets the letter down. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Angel shakes his head because he knows this is too much. He can’t ask you to take on a baby. The two of you have never talked about kids. He didn’t know if you wanted them or not. He figured there would be plenty of time to figure that out later.
He’s surprised when he hears the key in the lock. You mutter a curse as your hip bumps against the door handle, crossing over the threshold with a bassinet tucked under your arm and several bags filled with God knows what.
“Give Valeria here.” Felipe says, raising to his feet and reaching out for the baby. “Go help her.”
He’s already in motion, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he catches one of the bags just as it slips from your grasp. He takes note of the diapers and formula, before he takes the bassinet from you.
“I managed to get this stuff from Carmen, she keeps a bunch of it aside for new parents who are struggling to make ends meet.” You explain as you haul the other bags with you into the kitchen. “Bishop was there, he had a lot of questions, but I told him you’d call him tomorrow. He seemed to be ok with that.”
Angel doesn’t even know where to begin. The words catch in his throat and there’s an ache in his chest as he looks at you because even now, you’re still taking care of him, not just him but Valeria too.
“I think we have everything we need for tonight.” You say as you set the bags down on the table. “I can get the rest of the stuff on my list when the stores open up in the morning.”
“I thought…”
“I needed a minute.” You tell him quietly. “You know what happened to me, Valeria being dropped off like that…” You don’t have to say anything else. Angel gets it and so does Felipe. “I want to be there for her and for you. I want to be part of this little family.”
“Are you sure?” he asks you quietly, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek.
You nod your head before your arms wrap around his waist and you draw him close. It feels good to have you back in his arms, he finds the gesture reassuring. You’ve always been a port in a storm for him and the fact you’re here right now soothes him more than he would ever admit to anybody else.
“Yea.” You tell Angel, your fingertips toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I want this, I want this with you.”
“Ok Mi Reina.” Angel murmurs as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Let’s do it. Let’s be a family.”
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Text
Your Biker in Worn Leather
Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader
Category: Angst/Comfort
Word count: 353
Summary: You call EZ to pick you up and his temper goes through the roof at the state you’re in.
Warnings: Mentions of cuts, scratches, and bruises
Part 2
Masterlist
Taglist
Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.
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“Can you please come and get me?” Those words played on loop in EZ’s head, he couldn’t get the sound of your scared voice out of his head. You didn’t tell him what happened or if you were hurt, only where to pick you up from.
Ezekiel was quick to jump on his bike and speed to your location. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, mind racing a mile a second thinking about all the possible scenarios you could be in. By the time EZ finally found you on the side of the street, it was pouring rain and you had no rain coat or umbrella to shield you. As EZ took off his helmet and goggles, he noticed you were shaking and that’s when you immediately raced towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, not giving him the chance to get off his bike. EZ’s arms instinctively enveloped you in a tight embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. Neither one of you cared that you were getting drenched and could possibly end up with a cold tomorrow. You needed him, his safety, his protection, and you needed him as close as possible. EZ allowed the hug to last a few more moments. “Let’s get you dry, okay?” He spoke softly, placing a kiss to the top of your head.
You nodded against his shoulder before pulling yourself out of his arms. As you did so, EZ caught sight of the state you were in, a busted lip, bruises decorating your arms, and a red cheek. EZ’s blood boiled more and more as he saw each bruise, scratch, and cut littering your body. “Who did this to you?” He blurted out, causing you to jump at his stern tone and clenched jaw. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know who did this to you?” He apologized before asking again, this time in a calmer tone.
You knew exactly who did this, and you knew EZ would revel in setting the score.
General Taglist: @kmc1989
EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight
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withmyteeth · 11 months
Note
For the flash fic! The prompt "They end the phone call with an accidental ''love you'', leaving you flustered." With Angel, please!
So, this one got a little wordy on my because I was typing, typing, typing away and completely forgot this was supposed to be a FLASH fic challenge and not my next slow burn. Enjoy!
REMINDER: This is a writing exercise to get words down on paper as fast as possible. This has not been reread or edited.
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Nine times out of ten, when your phone rang, you didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who was calling.  Angel Reyes had a habit of blowing up your phone at the first moment of down time he had.  It’s usually never anything important.  He calls just to chat, ask about your day, tell you about his.  Sometimes he’s at the grocery store and can’t remember which milk he likes, or he can’t remember the name of that restaurant you told him to try the next time he was in Mexicali, or he’s just bored, on a run with the club.  You cringe to think of what your phone bill would look like if calls were still charged by the minute.
“You know, one of these days I am going to get a full face helmet, so when we are on these long rides, I can call you.”
You chuckle.  “Let’s hope that day never comes.”  You mean it light-heartedly, he knows that.  The truth is, you enjoy the calls as much as he does.  You’ve been living alone since your roommate left almost a year ago and the silence has been creeping up on you ever since.  Some days, you guys barely even talk, just keeping the phones on speaker with each other while you putt around, getting things done.
“Yea, yea, yea,” he says.  “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if I stopped calling you all the time.”
“You mean what would it be like to live my life with both hands again?”
Angel scoffs.  “I got you those earbud things for a reason, you know.”
It’s true.  After an unfortunate incident with a stack of plates, Angel had shown up to your house the next day with a plastic bag and an eye roll about you being a klutz.  “I know, but I don’t like how they feel in my ears.”
That is partially the truth.  The rest of the truth is that you don’t like how they distort Angel’s voice.  Sure, he talks enough but you can decipher more of what he doesn’t say by the tone of his voice, the way he says a word, when he chooses to pause.  Learning how to understand Angel Reyes was like learning a whole new language.
“Well, then get those big ones that look like earmuffs or something.”
You shrug, even though he can’t see you, your shoulder pressing the phone a little harder into the side of your face.  “Meh, I’m not worried about it.”
You smile at the sound Angel makes on the other end of the line, imagining how he is rolling his eyes.  He hates it when you say that.  You always complain about something, but then when he offers a solution, you just brush it off, much to his frustration.
“Whatever, just don’t come crying to me the next time you break something.”
“I didn’t come crying to you,” you clarify, “I was already on the phone with you when it happened.”
The line falls into a comfortable silence as you continue to wipe down the counter in your kitchen.  Angel is probably lounged back on his bike, waiting on everyone to get done with their various activities during their pit stop.
“So, how long –,” you start to ask, but then you hear some yelling in the background.
“Hey!” Angel shouts.  
You pull the phone away from your ear from the volume of it, knowing it wasn’t intended for you.  “Angel, what’s going on?”
“Apparently someone is trying to have a dick swinging contest in the middle of the gas station.”
You can hear the wind whooshing through the speaker, meaning Angel is probably headed right towards whatever is happening, which is confirmed when you hear him ask.  “What’s the problem here?”  He must have pressed the phone against his shoulder because you can only make out muffled sounds.
Your phone is pressed so hard to your ear that you are surprised you haven’t felt the screen crack.  Suddenly, you hear Angel grunt and expect him to drop the phone, so you pull it away from your ear, only to hear his voice come across the line.  You quickly press is back to your face to hear him say, “--gotta go, querida.  I’ll call you back.  Love you,” and the line goes dead.
You don’t move.  Frozen in your kitchen with your phone still pressed to you face, smoke practically pours out of your ears at the speed in which your brain is replaying those last two words.
Love you.
Love.  You.
Angel Reyes said he loves you.
You can feel the blood rush to your face.  Of course, the reason you spend so much time on the phone with him is because you’re madly in love with him, but you’ve never told him.  Sure, you guys talk all the time, even hang out together in person when he has the time, but he’s never indicated to you that his feelings might be more than friendship based.  You’ve seen him with his tongue down the throats of other women plenty of times.  If he liked you, he wouldn’t do that, right?
No matter how you try to rationalize it, there’s still that part of you, rocking back and forth in a tin foil hat saying that maybe he did mean it.  Maybe it was a slip of the tongue in the best way.  The only way to find out is to wait for him to call back and ask him.
Except he doesn’t call back.
You give it a couple hours, understanding that they might have needed a quick getaway and they’d probably keep going until their next stop then anyways.  And with everything else going on, if it was a slip of the tongue, Angel probably doesn’t even know what he said or the effect it had on you.  So you call him, just leaving a simple voicemail asking if everything is alright, asking him to call you when he has a chance.  You don’t mention the word ‘love’.
It takes three days.  Three days of staring at your phone, as silent as it's ever been, the battery lasting a full day for the first time in almost a year.  You’re losing your mind to the silence, not even the echo of his confession able to drown it out.  You wrestle over calling him again, but if shit’s gone down with the club, you don’t want to risk calling them and making things worse.  So you wait.
Finally, a knock sounds on your door, breaking the silence, and you practically sprint to answer it.  You don’t bother checking the window, willing to welcome anyone who might fill the silence.  What you aren’t expecting is to see EZ on your door, Angel’s kutte fisted in his hand to keep him on the porch.  Angel refuses to meet your eyes, looking anywhere but at you, so you look back at EZ, the question clear on your face.
“I cannot take another day of this.  Talk to him,” EZ says, pushing Angel into your house before pulling the door closed.
You blink at the door then at Angel, who looks like he is ready to bolt.  “Uh, what’s he talking about?”
You can see the twitchiness in Angel’s limbs, although he tries to hide it, running a hand through his hair.  “Uh, you know EZ,” he says with a nervous chuckle.  “Probably those anabolic steroids going to his head or something.”
You squint your eyes at him, making note of the things he didn’t say, listening to how he said the words he did.  “What’s wrong?”
His head pops up.  “Wrong?  Who said anything was wrong?”
You cross your arms.  “Angel, out with it.”
For just one moment, he looks like he’s going to resist, say something else, but he glances at the door, which probably has EZ still standing on the other side as you hadn’t heard his bike start and pull away.  His shoulders sag and his eyes drop to the floor again.  “I wanted to talk to you.  About the thing I said.”
You swallow.  The thing he said can only be one thing.  That one thing in particular that hasn’t left your head since he said it.  “Yea?”
See, the thing is.  As well as you can read Angel?  Angel can read you.  Even though you’d said just one word, Angel heard the hope in it, his eyes shooting up to meet yours.  “I, uh,” he swallows, a smirk tugging at his lips when he sees the smile growing on yours. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
You bite your lip, trying to stop your feelings from showing on your face, but at this point, it's no use.  “How did you mean to say it?”
Angel takes a step closer to you then, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you into him.  Your breath catches as your heart thuds one time before coming to a stop in your chest as he brings his face to yours.  His forehead meets your first and you brace yourself for a kiss, but it doesn’t come.  “Do you think I’d talk to anyone on the phone that much if I didn’t love them?”
Your heart springs back to life, rabbit away in your chest, your breath leaving you in a whoosh. Three days of worrying over nothing because Angel feels the same way.  You want to say it back.  You do, you mean to, but when you open your mouth, you say, “Well, I know how much you love to hear yourself talk, so I was just giving you that –,” you don’t get to finish the statement, his lips meeting yours because Angel can read between your lines as well as you can read between his and he saw the ‘I love you, too’ loud and clear.
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drabbles-mc · 25 days
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Sugar
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol
With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I've ever written for, I'm aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We'll see how far we get!
Prompt: petals
Word Count: 423
A/N: I miss prepping craft projects for my students and somehow we ended up here 😂
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You were sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath the coffee table in your living room while you worked. The television was on but you weren't really paying it any mind as you cut out flower petals from construction paper, preparation for crafts with your students the next day. 
Above the white noise of the television, and the satisfying sound of your scissors gliding through the paper, was the sound of Angel's voice as he vented to you about what had gone down in Templo earlier that afternoon. 
“I swear to god,” he said as he went to the fridge to grab himself a beer, “I wish we were kids so I could dribble his head like a fuckin’ basketball the way I used to.” He popped the cap off the bottle and took a sip. “Bounce that shit right off the floor,” he said as he mimed a dribbling motion with his free hand. He looked over at you. “I think I could still do it.”
You chuckled, shaking your head as you kept your eyes trained on the paper in front of you. “Physically? Yeah, you probably could. But do you really think it'd solve anything?”
“Pfft,” he scoffed as he came and stood by the coffee table, neck craned down so he could watch you work. “Knock some brain cells back into place.”
You shook your head again with a knowing smile. “It's like I tell my students– you get more with sugar than–”
“Than you do with shit,” he finished with a sigh. “I know but I don't think I buy that shit, querida.”
You finally looked up at him. “Salt.”
His brows knit in confusion. “What?”
“You get more with sugar than you do with salt, Angel.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I'm pretty sure–”
You set the scissors down and leaned back slightly. “You think I'd say ‘you get more with sugar than you do with shit’ to my students? My elementary students?”
A smile quirked the end of his mouth. “I mean, it's still true.”
You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't help yourself. With a loving roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to come and sit with you. “Come down here and help me out with this, will you?”
He didn't put up a fight as he plopped down beside you. “Tryin’ to distract me,” he said with a smirk. 
You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his jaw before handing him his own pair of scissors. “Sugar instead of salt.”
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darqchilddaydreamz · 3 months
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18+ ONLY BLOG *🚩MINORS GO AWAY!🚩
Miguel x reader
1.9k words
The Mayans belong to FX. My heart belongs to these fools & these stories belong to me.
Reblog! Comment like it sends me a thrill...cuz it does ;)
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Miguel Galindo
Miguel sat at the suite’s small dining table, sprawled out on a chair dressed in nothing but his form-fitting black boxer briefs. Free of his suit, his ties, his watches and all the other things that screamed Galindo. Away from the demands of his life, his face was softened by your lovemaking, laughter and an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Relaxed. It was the way he was when he was with you.
He loved to watch you dance. You stood in the tiny galley kitchen swaying and rocking in the slim-fit hoodie he had arrived in the night before. Even though he had used to conceal his identity, hiding his connection to you from the world - remembering how good he looked standing in the doorway made you bite your lip on a smile and started a stirring inside you. The energy from that heat put the extra swirl in your waist and dipped your knees, giving Miguel an alluring peek under the bottom of his hoodie that was already barely covering your naked ass. You paused in pouring yourself another mimosa to bounce up on one foot to the drop beat of the song playing. Miguel's lips curved into a small smile as you popped your hip out on the bass line’s booming beat. Pow. Pow. Pow. Ass jiggling just enough for him to not be able to resist calling your name.
Turning to face him, your eyes feign innocence but your puckered smirk let him know the dance was for him. Taking a sip from your flute, you gave him a slow blink, "Yes?"
His cheeks lifted slightly, amused by your coy pretense. "Ven." (Come.)
It should have taken more than a single word to get you across the room but the smokey lust in Miguel's eyes and his mere beckoning with two fingers moved your feet. Approaching, you stood in front of him and he leaned forward slowly to draw you in between his legs. He reached up to take your glass and placed it on the table. Holding your hand to his lips, he brushed a kiss over your knuckles before opening your palm and placing it on his cheek to nuzzle into. His looking up at you from under straight dark eyelashes made you move closer. His hands caressing the backs of your thighs parted your lips. Them running up and over your soft cheeks, then up your back drug a sigh out of you. His tugging on the zipper that kept your silky skin from him reopened your eyes and you watched the pleasure he got out of exposing you. His kissing the newly revealed skin at a pace that kept him in control, and you in a sexual fog, distracted you from knowing when he finished unzipping you. Your eyes were closed because his mouth was open, hot on the hollows of your hips, tonguing your navel - the bites, and nips and sucking all had you lost. With both hands in his hair, you shuddered when his lips fastened around your nipple, rolling his tongue over it, ending with a hard suckle that snatched a gasp out of your chest.
“Mmmm…Miguel!”
He smiled against your skin, sliding to the other, claiming it between his teeth. You shrank back from the stimulation but he quickly abandoned the squeezing and kneading he was giving your ass with a possessive growl, pressing on your shoulder blades to bring you back to him, to his tormenting tiny bites on your sensitive peak. Cupping both your breasts, he traveled with wicked intentions between them, teasing until you pulled him away by his hair.
“Basta! Cariño, por favor! Yo necesito--,”. (Enough! My love, please! I need--,.)
His dark eyes shined in eagerness, wanting so much to hear the words, “¿Que?” (what?)
With all the love you felt for the man looking up at you, you confessed, “Tu…solamente, tu.” (You…only you.)
Standing, he put you on the table, tugging on at his waistline to free himself, baring teeth that would be at your neck in seconds. His hoodie slipped down your shoulders trapping your upper arms, keeping you from holding him the way you wanted to - the way you needed to. He wasted no time with teasing, plunging straight in on a groan of pleasure so sweet you stopped breathing. He selfishly indulged himself in your wet, tight grip, railing into you three times, hard and deep - his helpless sounds of overwhelming bliss were muffled in your neck. Sinking his teeth in, he allowed himself several more thrusts into your parted place before stopping again. Pausing to gather himself, he knew he wanted more than to just be inside you, he needed something else. A higher plane. The excruciating torture of the wait.  
He kissed you deeply to slow himself down. Your hands journeyed his body feeling the straining muscles of his throat and shoulders begin to relax, melting under your touch. His audible breathing quieted, slowing, then looking into your eyes, he reached under you to cup your cheeks gently, moving you to the very edge of the table. The erotic wickedness in his eyes constricted your throat, no words could escape you as he brought you down with him to sit back in the chair, your toes barely able to touch the floor. He pressed your chest until your back leaned against the table’s edge. Reclined on your elbows, you stared as he licked his thumb, finding your arousal-swollen bud just above where he was locked inside of you. You sucked in your stomach and vibrated from his first swipe, the zing was exquisite. Torn between wanting to watch his hand and being sucked into the fire in his eyes, you chose the latter.  
Miguel’s lips curled up on one side and he brought his hand up to lick his thumb again, tapping and rubbing gently across the topmost part of your clitoral hood, then stroking up and down each side, circling the tip and back to tapping. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your body twisted as you gripped the table’s edge. He pressed his other hand on top of your thigh to hold you down, denying you both the ecstasy a single thrust from him would bring. Your head dropped back and the next moan that floated from your mouth had a plea on the end of it that curled his toes. As his thumb continued to work, your back began to snake. Your shameless exhibition of pleasure compelled him to taunt you.
“Si, amor…baila para me,” he breathed, mesmerized. “Bailar.” (Yes love…dance for me, … Dance.)
Your insides twitching and grasping at his hard length was unraveling him. As you chanted his name it landed on deaf ears. Still, you begged the man who was determined to withhold his mercy even at the cost to himself for more, while straining against the pressure of his hand holding you in place, preventing the rocking that would relieve you both. You tried again and again to lift your hips until he hit you with a swift, stinging slap of correction to your thigh. Your only protest to his briefly raised eyebrows was a whimpering moan, clutching your own breasts to work yourself into a faster climb.
Succumbing, your muscles clenched even more, drawing tight for release and Miguel could see it…dear God, he could feel it on every centimeter of his rock-hard dick. Gripping the table top frantically, your breasts bobbed, enticing him as your back arched. He replaced his thumb with two fingers and your entire body stiffened in shock. The gasp of air you sucked in coincided with your tunnel’s suctioning spasm. Feeling it, Miguel clenched his teeth on a profane shout, the gruff sound grated his vocal cords and the new wetness on his base announced your long-awaited orgasm a millisecond before the telling scream tore from you.
Dazed, you flopped forward when he snatched you up and you wrapped your arms around him tight to gain your bearings, clawing as if skin-to-skin was not close enough. He loved it when you were like this, nothing but a reaction - but it was your next cry that tanked his reserves.  
“¡Ahora! ¡Por favor! ¡Ahora mismo!” (Now! Please! Right now!)
Your desperate plea broke him. Miguel locked his arms around you lifting just enough to be able to pummel you from beneath. He put his hand under his buttocks to use the chair for support to buck up into you. The effort behind each thrust forced an animalistic grunt out of him, mixing with your pleading wails that alternated from being buried into his shoulder to blasting past his ear.
“¡Oh! ¡Ooooh, mierda! ¡MIERDA!” you yelped between delicious, drilling snaps of his hips. “¡Papi, da a me más! ¡Fóllame!” (Oh! Ooooh, fuck! FUCK! …. Papi, give me more! Fuck me!)
He cursed when you came again fluttering and squeezing him, milking him while he struggled to continue. Your nails scraped across his shoulders and the pain barely registered to his senses. On your toes, your thighs squeezed around him in uncontrolled, jerky movements adding to the throbbing torment he was enduring. Your body was a drug to him and he was now fully under the influence. With his head dropped back, he held you tighter, pumping up into your quivering split like a man possessed, drowning in your cries of pleasure and adding his own. He could feel it coming - the tension in his thighs, his pelvis, and his balls were all locking in for the most intense orgasm of his time with you. He had no words of warning. The black depths his first convulsions came up from rendered him silent. With his eyes and mouth wide, he was swept away by it - forcibly drug by every nerve ending in his body to the highest sexual peak and flung off. For a moment, his lungs refused to cooperate and his fingertips dug painfully into your back. His mouth was moving but nothing was coming out. Jettisons of cum shot from him, forceful and hot, locking his back in an arch and the long gasp he had taken in, finally released in a trio of sharp roars. He continued to blast your insides with his eyes clamped shut, seeing flashes of white behind the lids.
Miguel was submerged in the sweetest suffering, helplessly planted to the root inside your perfectly twitchy body. Every muscle he was using to hold the both of you upright was engaged in relentless, tight aftershocks. He moaned roughly, calling on God, Jesus and you to end the maddening rolling spasms. You had nothing left to give to help him. He had done this to himself and you. You could only offer kisses on the skin you could reach as solace…and gratitude.
0.o.0.o.0
Miguel was forced to leave his hoodie behind when he left you. It smelled of you and him and happiness, he could not take that kind of risk. Sitting in the SUV with Nestor driving, he tried not to think of you. He tried to set his mind on home or business, but it was you in his hoodie kissing him goodbye with promise in your eyes that his brain chose to focus on. He touched the panel to lower the window, taking a deep breath. He watched the city he ruled go by and for a time he believed…if he were careful, he could have it all.
-fin-
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Thank you for reading, y'all. 💜🥰💜 Comments are appreciated. Reblogs are adored. Till next time! *kiss cheek*
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garbinge · 8 months
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Motion Sick
Angel Reyes x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the fic a day challenge with me! Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Fluffy but light angst.
Mayans MC Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705
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It was the middle of the day and you were traveling back home from a club errand with Angel. You might’ve had the day off but Angel didn’t and you figured if you were gonna snag anytime with him alone this was going to be it. Things had been busy between the club and the scrapyard. There wasn’t even a point in asking Angel if the errand he was running was for either because it likely had to do with both. All you knew is Angel had mentioned needing to take a ride to Santa Ana in the morning before he left your house and you met him at the clubhouse and hopped in the passenger seat of the van without any argument on his side. 
Angel didn’t mind the company, if anything he enjoyed it. These days it was rare you two got to do anything together besides roll over and shake the other to shut off the alarm so taking a ride together was like a date on the town for you. 
The ride up was smooth and quick, both of you wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible so that the rest of the day was your own without any responsibilities lingering over your head. The way back was more enjoyable. Angel took the long way back down the Pacific Coast Highway to give some romance to the trip, opting to stop at a whale watching point because he really wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. It was nice, it was something that had been missing between you two lately and this was his way of acknowledging it. 
As you got back on the road you started to fidget in the passenger seat. Finding a comfortable position was making itself hard as you moved around. 
“You alright? You can’t sit still.” Angel looked over at you as you switched to your 4th position in the last minute. 
“Yea, just feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.” You frowned and leaned forward to grab the handle that would easily adjust the seat back in hopes that would help. 
“You think it was the lookout dock? The waves and shit making you sick?” The worry grew in his voice as he slowed down on the highway, taking the opportunity to look at you longer verse the road to get a better understanding about what was going on. 
“I don’t know, I don’t think so. We were on solid foundation not like a dock or anything that was moving. Maybe I’m just getting antsy from the ride.” You brushed off his concern.
“Look, maybe you just need a break, we can stop and get some fuckin’ food or some shit.” Angel was starting to argue with you now, not out of spite, but from a genuine place. “You’re probably just motion sick. We’ve been in this van for a minute.” He had already begun to pull over at whatever food stop was coming up before you could put up a fight but it didn’t stop you from trying. 
“I don’t usually get motion sick,” your hand lifted to wave him off to continue driving until you almost immediately brought it to your mouth, “oh– I think I’m gonna puke.” 
Luckily the car was stationary as you opened the passenger door and vomited out of it. Angel thinking quickly to lean over and pull anything out of the way of your upchucking. 
“Damn querida. I thought you didn’t get motion sick.” He said when you finally stopped and used one of the napkins that was shoved in the side pocket of the car to wipe your mouth off. As he spoke you turned to him and lifted your middle finger which made him laugh. 
“I feel like shit.” You closed your eyes and leaned back in the seat. 
“You need anything? I’ll get the food to go, we can grab a spot in the grass or something, I’m sure we got a blanket somewhere back here.” Angel went into full solution mode. 
“If I sit on any blanket that’s in this van I’ll end up sicker than I am right now.” You let out a chuckle and let your head fall to the left to stare at Angel. He was on edge, you could tell. His arm was on the steering wheel and his body was twisted to look back at you. “Why don’t we find a convenient store, like a CVS or Rite Aid or some shit, I think I’ll get better if I get my hands on a gatorade and some saltines.” 
Angel was moving in seconds, he had put the car in drive and you were about to argue it but he spoke up. “I’m just moving it up a couple feet so you don’t step in your own vomit.” His smiled openly. 
“Angel the angel.” You teased him as you stepped out the van. 
The convenient store was close, it was a matter of minutes before you both entered the air conditioned building that was playing some top 40’s radio station through the speakers. The cold breeze already had you feeling better, the club van didn’t exactly have the best AC for an old overused vehicle. 
“Grab what you want, I’m gonna see if I can get you some of that motion sickness shit from the pharmacy, half the shit on the PCH is behind lock and key.” Angel placed a quick kiss on your head before walking towards the medicine aisle. “Oh and maybe pick up some Listerine or toothpaste!” His whole body turned around as he kept walking backwards with his nose scrunched up. 
That earned him another middle finger and a headshake, although, you knew he was right. Toothpaste and a toothbrush was the first thing you were grabbing on your way to grab the essentials but he didn’t need to be annoying about it. 
As you entered the toiletry aisle your eyes scanned the shelves. Mouthwash was first, and while it was a viable option, you knew brushing your teeth would be a greater benefit for both of you. As your eyes moved to the toothpaste, you saw the travel brush and paste kit and grabbed the first one you saw before walking down the rest of the aisle. You browsed the rest of the aisle, taking your time not wanting to leave the cooled store anytime soon. As you looked around your eyes stopped on a box of tampons. That’s when it hit you like a tons of bricks. The speed at which you took your phone out your backpocket was unmatched, all just for your thoughts to be confirmed by the date displaying on your phone. You were late. 
Without a second thought you grabbed the pink box that was to the right of the pads and tampons and flew to the bathroom. Luckily it was on the opposite side of where the pharmacy was so there was no chance you were going to run into Angel. 
3 minutes was beginning to feel like 3 days with how long it was taking. You had grabbed the digital test, which was likely the more expensive one but at this point you didn’t care. You stood over the sink staring at the flashing lines waiting for words to pop up on it. You could’ve taken the time to brush your teeth but you felt like if you took your eyes off the test, you’d miss something. 
You heard the digital beeping and the words appeared across the screen. 
Pregnant. 
“Holy shit.” 
You weren’t exactly sure how to feel but before you could really even process it, you were stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the aisles for Angel. 
He was in the toy section, gatorade and saltines in one hand and a squishmallow in the other. 
“Hey look! It kinda looks like Sally right? I know it’s a seal but they got the same fuckin’ eyes.” Angel held up the gray stuffed animal and compared it to his little brother’s dog. 
As you walked over to him and said nothing his smile started to fade. 
“You get sick again?” He asked a follow up question. 
Without saying anything you held up the pregnancy test for him to see. It took him a couple seconds to process what you were showing him before he was picking you up in the air in celebration. The squeal that left your mouth was full of shock but the laugh that came after was genuine. Angel was clearly excited about this and that sent a wave of relief through you that let you enjoy this. 
“Alright, alright, put me down you’re gonna make me sick again!” You spoke through another laugh. 
“What happened, I thought you don’t get motion sick.” His voice got deeper as he mocked you and put you down. 
“Yea I don’t, but apparently your kid does.” 
Angel’s smile grew even bigger at that sentence. You leaned over and grabbed the squishmallow from him and made your way to the front of the store to pay for everything you two had gathered up. 
“We gettin’ that?!” Angel lightly jogged to catch up to you. 
“Baby’s first toy?” You squished it against your front in a hug. 
Angel brought you into his side, throwing his arm around you as he left a soft his on the crown of your head. 
“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 
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bumblesimagines · 7 months
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"You're always so quick to defend them. What's the real reason behind your loyalty?"
"How convenient, showing up whenever they need you."
- EZ Reyes
"You're always so quick to defend them. What's the real reason behind your loyalty?"
"How convenient, showing up whenever they need you."
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
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You considered yourself to be rather laidback when it came to exes. You chose your partners carefully and deliberately, ensuring the relationship wouldn't end up being a waste of time. It's why you'd been so certain about Ezekiel Reyes.
The sweet, charismatic biker caught your eye the moment he'd sauntered into the courthouse as a prospect. He appeared humble and thoughtful, taking his duties as prospect seriously and often helping you tend to the bar whenever possible. You knew his past from the other members. A young man set on avenging his mom faced the consequences of accidentally shooting an officer. His story had been gut-wrenching and you sympathized with him.
But, as you looked through the trailer's window and watched him speak with Emily Galindo, you wondered if you had made the right choice.
"How convenient," You murmured as Ez entered the trailer and tossed his gloves aside. "Showing up whenever I need you."
"She has no idea it's your birthday, (Y/N). Don't be like that."
"Don't be like what, Ezekiel?" You snapped and he blinked, leaning back slightly at the irritated tone lacing your voice. Sally stirred beside you, a soft whine emitting from her throat. You ran your hand over her soft fur and inhaled sharply, attempting to ease your growing anger.
"Em's done nothing to you. I don't get why you hate her so much." You took another deep breath and rubbed the bridge of your nose at his words. For a guy known for his intelligence and quick-thinking, he sure was clueless when it came to his little ex.
"You're always so quick to defend her. What's the real reason behind your loyalty? Because that little blonde brat doesn't give a shit about you, Ez."
His brows knitted and a frown stretched out on his face. "Don't call her that-"
"Oh, my god." You breathlessly laughed and stood up, snatching your phone and wallet from the table. You shook your head, almost in disbelief, and faced him.
"If you want to be her little servant so badly, go for it. Don't come crying back to me when she keeps choosing her husband over you."
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sogoodtoheritsvicious · 11 months
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pov: you’re on vacation with ez reyes 🌊
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Generational Curses
A Coco Cruz x Reader(You) Imagine
Warnings:18+Only! Nothing really but language and mentions of drug use.
I don’t want kids but I’d pop a couple heathens out for him 😈💕
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Walking up the steps to the clubhouse, you smiled when you spotted Gilly on the couch, laughing with a woman you didn't recognize. Maybe she was a hang-around, or it could be his new girl. You weren’t really in the loop since you and Coco decided to split. Either way, she was gorgeous. Gilly always did have good taste, you thought.
“Hey, Gilly!” You stepped over to him as he stood to hug you.
“How you been, girl?” His smile was huge on his face as he picked you up. Your feet were off the floor now, dangling beneath you as the bear of a man hugged you.
“Good, oh my god, so good! Look, I did it!” You beamed, flashing him your new badge that now said RN instead of LVN.
“I knew you fuckin’ would!” He nodded his head with sincerity.
“Thank you, Gilly! So, where’s Coco?” You looked around the lot to see if he was anywhere around.
“He’s inside with Letty.”
“Thanks, I’m gonna go find him.” You hugged him before heading inside.
“Go, mamas, go!” Coco was on his knees on the floor of the clubhouse. His little girl stood in front of him and wobbled on shaky legs.
“Just one step, baby girl, come on!” Letty said in a sweet tone as she sat behind the chubby baby, ready to catch her if she fell.
Coco had his arms out, his hands waving at her to come to him, but she just smiled wide at him. Her small dimples and the two teeth cutting through her gums appeared as she giggled before falling back on her diaper-padded butt.
“Aww, you almost had it, mamas!” He picked his baby girl up, kissing her forehead, then booping her nose with his index finger.
Something caught the little girl's attention, and she started climbing Coco like a tree and bouncing with excitement in his arms. Turning around, his stomach flipped with his own excitement when he saw you. That was something that never changed for him whenever he laid his eyes on you.
Your hair was pulled back into a neat bun accentuating the angelic glow of your skin. He couldn't help but notice the scrubs you wore that hugged your body just right, not baggy like they sometimes could be. Coco knew he fucked up when he didn't stop you from leaving, but when baby girl was born, he was neck-deep in his heroin addiction and not even half the man he is today.
Walking over to them, you smiled brightly, looking at Coco before taking her from his arms. Holding her up in the air, you gently sway her before bringing her back into your arms and hugging her tightly. “Hey, baby.”
She bounced in your arms before yawning and laying her head against you as you gently swayed your body.
“I got some money for you, niña.” Coco pulled his wallet out, handing you the cash. “You can pay that doctor's bill off.” He half smiled, his hand rubbing gentle circles on the baby’s back as she fell asleep in your arms.
“I really appreciate it, Johnny,” you said sincerely. Your heart beats a little quicker in your chest as you look at the man you still loved standing before you, who was doing his part to take care of the child, he beautifully created with you.
You wanted to tell him you still loved him, but you also needed to make sure he was going to keep to the change he had made for the sake of your baby girl. You would never put her in harm's way cause your ultimate goal would always be to keep her safe and happy. Even if that meant your heart had to break.
“Do you need anything else, querida? I got you,” he said with his own sincerity.
“Can you keep her Friday night? One of the nurses called out sick, so I thought I would get some overtime.”
How could he ever say no to his sweet baby being with him? It wasn’t just that, though, no. Coco couldn’t say no to the woman he was trying so desperately to get to see him as the man she loved once again. The woman whose heart he knew he had once trampled all over and taken for granted.
“Yeah, of course. Anytime you need me to take her, I will. You know I got her, too.” Coco told you as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his kutte.
“I know you do, Johnny.” You smiled back at him in reassurance. “I’m gonna take her home. She needs a bath and some sleep.”
“Yeah, she was everywhere today. Like a little fuckin’ squirrel.” You and Coco laughed before he hugged you goodbye.
You couldn't help pressing yourself a little closer to him. The smell of his cologne mixed with the familiar scent of metal sent heat coursing through your veins as he held you against his thin frame. Both of you were desperate to hold each other a little longer, but before either of you could succumb to the desires of your heart, you pulled away.
Turning to Letty, you hugged her, kissing her cheek. “You’re so pretty, Letty! I hope you’re keeping up with your schoolwork?”
Coco’s older daughter smiled in mock innocence. “Oh, of course,” she said unconvincingly.
“It’s important, Letty.” You urged her. Using your free hand, you tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as she nodded in agreement.
Taking the diaper bag from your daughter's older sister, you headed out to your car to put your sleeping baby in her car seat.
Stepping onto the porch to watch them pull away, Coco sucked at his teeth, lighting his first smoke of the day. He didn’t want his baby girl smelling like nicotine, so he always chose to wait until she was gone to have one. He planned to quit eventually, but he knew he had to focus on one addiction at a time. He didn't want to shock his body. If he wanted to quit, he should taper himself off slowly. That’s the advice his doctor gave him when he brought it up.
“You good?” EZ stepped up to him, his hand coming to Coco’s shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Yeah, just thinkin’ ‘bout shit, that’s all.” He leaned against the railing of the porch.
“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel, Coco?” EZ moved to lean against the railing next to him.
“Not that simple, boy scout,” he replied, his face a little pained as he spoke. “Fucked her over. Don’t think I can fix that.” He shrugged.
“Come on, man, we can all see the drastic change you’ve made since being clean. I’m sure she does, too.” He offered positive words to his brother, whose self-esteem took a blow when he hit rock bottom.
“I don’t know, bro. I don’t wanna think about it anymore. Makes my head fuckin’ spin.” He flicked his cigarette to the ground. “Let’s just get this run over with.”
—————————
Coco’s mind was on you all week. He couldn’t shake the memories that kept flooding his thoughts. How happy you both were before the vatos injured him. Before his drug abuse, the two of you were so excited about what life had in store. A new baby, a home you were starting to share comfortably. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you. How desperately he missed you. How much he knew he took you for granted before but would do anything he could to make it up to you. Unfortunately, he listened to the nagging voices that told him you didn't love him anymore, so he kept his feelings to himself.
“Such a messy baby, huh?” Coco sat at the table, feeding his daughter some beans and rice Letty had made for breakfast burritos. She giggled, bouncing with excitement at another bite coming her way. Most of the rice and beans were on her cheeks and in her hair now.
“Aye, Leticia, start the bath for me!” He shouted towards the back of the house.
As he removed her from the high chair, there was a soft knock on the front door. Stepping over to the door, he opened it and was greeted by the same smiling face that had been on his mind all week.
“Hey, mamas!” You tickled your baby girl's side, kissing her on her head. “Oooh, somebody had something yummy, I see.” You smiled, removing a bit of rice from her hair.
Coco laughed. “Yeah, she loves to fling food around like a crazy person. Come in.” He moved out of your way to let you in.
You couldn’t believe your eyes. Instead of beer bottles and ashtrays sitting on top of the coffee table, there were diapers, baby wipes, and colorful blocks with letters on them.
Toys of all kinds littered the carpet of the biker's living room. It didn’t look like the trap house it had a few months ago. It looked like an actual home now. You inwardly cheered at the progress Coco was making for his daughter.
“Looks like she’s taking over your place, too, huh?” You smiled at him as you picked up the block with the letter A on it.
“Yeah, she’s the boss. You know how it is, can’t say no to her.” He smiled, handing your daughter to Letty. “Aye, can you wash her up real quick? I wanna talk to y/n for a minute.” He asked her, handing the baby over to her as she tried to squirm out of Letty’s arms, no doubt trying to escape bath time.
“Is everything okay?” You ask him, sitting down on the edge of the couch cushion.
“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just—” He paused, weary of putting his feelings out there after messing up so badly.
“Hey, you can always talk to me,” you reassured him with a smile.
“Alright, so I’ve been thinking about things, you know, since I’ve got a clear mind now, and look, I miss you, like really miss you, niña. I know I fucked up, but I swear I would never do anything to hurt you again.”
He finally turned to face you on the couch, your eyes glossed with unshed tears. Nice fucking job, cabrón, making her cry, he thought to himself. Before he could take it all back, hide his feelings back inside his thoughts, you cupped his cheek.
“I believe you, Coco,” you whispered.
“I fuckin’ love you so much!” He blurted out before his lips crashed against yours. His hand was on the back of your neck as he kissed you with a longing need. Both of you were breathing hard, your bodies engulfed by the flames of your lust.
Your hands are on the front of his kutte as you let his tongue explore your mouth. “I love you, too, Johnny.” His eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours.
“I thought I lost you for good, and I know I’d deserve it if I did,” he admitted.
“Hey.” You cupped his cheeks, pulling his attention back to your face. “You never lost me completely, Coco. I’ve always been yours.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His alarm tore him from your embrace. He clenched the sheets in his fists at his sides, groaning at the loss of your body against his. Sitting up, he rubbed his arm where injection scars riddled his tanned skin.
Whenever his nerves wore him thin, Coco would find himself nervously rubbing at the old wounds. He had to get his mind right before he slipped up and did something stupid. Picking up his phone, he hit your contact and listened to the phone ring.
“Miss her, already?” You asked him, yawning as you stretched in bed.
He missed both of you, truthfully. He wouldn’t speak those words out loud for fear of rejection, so instead, he explained. “Club's giving out food bags to the community. Alvarez set up a carnival at the park with the Mayor and Galindo so the club could show face.”
You gasped faintly. “A carnival?”
Coco recognized the change in your tone, and he knew what you sounded like when you were excited about something. Just fucking ask her already, he urged himself.
“You could go, too?” It came out as unsure as it sounded. “I mean if you want to." He corrected.
“That sounds so fun! Just text me the time you wanna pick us up.” You smiled, thinking about how this could be the start of your family piecing itself back together. “We’ll see you later, Coco.”
“Can’t wait!” His smile beamed across his face as he got ready for the day. He chose to put on the flannel you loved on him and the Levi’s that once had you throwing him against the closest surface whenever he wore them.
Coco was a mess of nerves when he pulled up to your house. Don’t be such a bitch, he told himself. The car door swung open, startling him briefly until he saw his baby girl's smile and the woman he loved looking at him with her own beautiful smile.
“You ready?” You asked him, opening the back door to put the baby in her car seat.
“I’m gonna stick out like a sore thumb.” He laughed while you climbed into the passenger seat.
“Who cares. You guys are showing up for the community and doing a good thing. That’s all that matters.” You shrugged, smiling at him when he looked over to you before bringing his eyes back to the road.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agreed.
—————————
“Look, mamas!” Coco brought her in front of a llama munching on its food. Its long tongue darting from its mouth made the young girl jump in surprise, her eyes blinking frantically before blowing wide. You and Coco laughed as she turned in his arms, shaking her head before burrowing her face in his kutte.
“Oh my god, we’re horrible people!” You giggled as you watched her continue to hide her face. “You don’t like the llama, baby girl?” You asked her, fixing one of her crooked ponytails and smiling at Coco.
“Let’s go get some food.” He held his daughter with one arm, the other bringing his hand to rest against your lower back as he guided you through the small crowds of people and over to the food vendor section.
While Coco went up and ordered some food items that could be shared between the three of you, you were busy finding a table and keeping your daughter cool by fanning her with an envelope you found in your purse.
“So, what’s new these days?” He asked you, blowing on a soft fry before feeding it to the babbling baby.
“Well—” You chewed the rest of your bite before continuing. “I finished my RN requirements, and things at the hospital I’m working at are going well.” You smiled, taking a sip from the soda you were sharing.
“Yeah, Gilly mentioned that the other day. I’m proud of you, you know?” His admission made your stomach flutter as you watched him turn to feed your daughter another fry.
“Hey, Coco?” You gently asked, grabbing his other hand over the table and smiling sweetly at him. “You know I’m proud of you, too, right?”
Coco hadn’t known. In fact, he thought you had stopped paying attention to him a long time ago.
“Shit, that's good to hear!" He sighed as some of the weight of his guilt fell from his shoulders.
“Language!” You cut him off, covering your daughter's ears playfully.
“My bad, mamas.” He stroked the baby’s chubby cheek with the back of his hand. Turning to you, he gently grabbed yours to hold it on the table while his thumb feathered your knuckles as he spoke. “I just thought you’d never see me the same again, but just knowing you're proud of me—that you see me, it's more than I could ever wish to hear from you.”
“I only left because I won’t let our baby girl grow up in that lifestyle, not because I didn’t love you, Coco. I’m just not looking to pass on our generational curses.” Your words sounded harsh and not at all how you meant to convey your message.
He cringed slightly, his eyes darting to the floor as he retracted his hand in shame.
“Hey.” You moved to the other side of the picnic table next to him. Cupping his cheek, you brought his shame-filled eyes back to your adoring gaze as you spoke.
“You’re doing it, Coco. You clawed yourself from a hole that most people die in, and everything that happened while you were in that hole is something that is always going to be with you, but it’s not something you have to continue apologizing for. Don’t you think you were in a prison long enough?” You smiled at him, your thumb gently stroking his cheek as his eyes blinked away the tears clouding his vision.
“I love you.” He blurted. Pulling your hands away from his face, he held them in his lap as he spoke. “Come home, niña. I promise I’ll never do you wrong again.”
“Coco?” You both turned to the voice calling his name. A shaking mess of a man stood in front of you both. “You holding, bro?”
Coco shot up from his seat, grabbing the guy by the front of his shirt. “What the fuck is wrong with you? This is a family function, vato!” He growled, throwing the man to the ground. “Look for me again, and you’ll find out what I’m holding,” he threatened.
He looked around at everyone staring at him as Bishop walked up and put his hand on his shoulder. “Keep it cool, brother. Now, where’s that cutie at?” He picked up the smiling baby, removing her from her stroller to hold her up and blow raspberries on her pudgy belly.
“Hey, querida,” he greeted you with a hug, handing your daughter back to you before she could pull his beard off, which was her favorite thing to do when Bishop held her.
“Hey, Bishop! Where’s Antonia?” You asked.
“She’s over there showing face to all the proper folks,” he answered, making you laugh.
“I see why you’re not over there, then.” You poked his chest as you both laughed harder.
“Wouldn’t wanna scare the donations off.” He winked before telling you and Coco bye for the night.
“You ready to go home?” Coco turned to you, smiling at his yawning daughter in your arms. “Looks like baby girl’s done for the day.”
“Yeah, she is. Hey, Coco?” You stepped up to him, placing the palm of your hand on his chest as you leaned forward to kiss him. Coco's eyes were huge, and his body stiffened before he let himself fall blissfully into the kiss you were sharing. Pulling away from him, you slowly opened your eyes. “I love you, too.”
The End!
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ficnation · 8 months
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Shadow of a Broken Heart - EZ Reyes x Reader
Summary: Losing someone you love exposes the darkest side of what your friend is capable of. A broken heart opens a path for a twisted mind.
Word count: 1,4k+
Pairing: Platonic! Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; mentioned! Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader
Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pure angst
A/n: Another angsty piece for EZ because I’m never forgiving him for what he did to Neron. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!
Main Masterlist
Mayans MC Masterlist
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A tense and heated silence fills the vehicle, your breathing deep and steady as you stare at the trailer ahead. Your knuckles are tight and white, your grip on the gun firm. With each breath, the weight of your grief and your need for vengeance grows, fueling your resolve.
You won’t let your loved one’s death go unpunished; EZ is going to pay the ultimate price for taking away his life. He’s going to die at the hands of his own friend, feeling betrayed just like Neron did. There was no way you’d let him go out easily after what he’s done.
As you let out a deep breath, your grip on the gun tightens even more. Your eyes are locked on your target’s home. Your mind is a vortex of emotions and thoughts—the sound of your heartbeat is deafening.
The tension is palpable as you wait, steeling yourself for the moment ahead. You are ready. You are prepared to carry out your vengeance, hoping for the sweet release of the overwhelming weight of your grief and anger that have been crushing you for the past few weeks.
You make sure the safety is on before you stick the gun beneath the waistband of your jeans. While it is still concealed, you can feel it pressed against your spine, the cold, metallic sensation of the firearm sending a chill down your spine.
Your heart is still pounding, your body tensing at every tiny sound, each muscle coiled and ready to strike. But your mind is calm and focused, determined to do what you came here for.
You jump out of the car, and your boots hit the dry earth below with a dull thud. The cool night air is a slight relief from your hot, boiling emotions. You straighten up as you leave the door open, afraid of making too much noise.
You reach the trailer, hesitating for a moment as your raised fist hovers over the plastic surface of the door. You stop your racing mind and bring your hand down, knocking gently.
The knock, even so quiet, reverberates throughout the night on the quiet street as you stand motionless, waiting to see if anyone will open the door—if your thirst for EZ’s blood will be satisfied.
You all but exhale when you hear the creaking of the floor inside. The steps get closer and closer then finally, Ezekiel Reyes inches the door open, peeking through the small gap.
You play the game and drop your shoulders with a defeated shrug. The bags under your eyes and the sadness of your frown are convincing enough for EZ to open the door fully. You force your eyes to tear up just like you did when you were a kid and your mom didn’t want to buy you ice cream. It looks real—believable.
The man you once considered a brother steps aside to let you in. He closes the plastic door as you look around the trailer. You knew beforehand Sofie had received an emergency call from her coworker asking for her assistance on the night shift. You were glad you bumped into Bottles, and he let the information slip.
You sit on the bed and put your head in your hands—elbows digging into the flesh of your thighs as you fake a sniffle. “I miss him so much, EZ. I don’t think I can go on much longer,” you mumble out, your voice breaking slightly.
You are amazed at just how good you’re at this because the dark-eyed man squats in front of you without a second thought. He places his large hands on your knees as he tries to look you in the eyes. You want to dig his eyes out and leave them hanging out of the sockets just by the nerves.
“I know it’s painful,” he says softly, and you let him guide your arms down. His skin touching yours makes you want to spit in his face.
“I’m like a fucking shadow without him. A shadow of a broken heart.” You clench your eyes shut as you let the tears spill down your cheeks, the black mascara leaving traces on your skin. “I’m nothing without him. I don’t know who I am or what I am supposed to do,” you sob, the words sound almost choked out. You’re telling the truth this time; you don’t even have to force it—the words spilling out of your mouth, the pain behind them, honest.
He hushes you, bringing your hands to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles in hopes of soothing you. You look into his eyes, searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of reason behind the betrayal. You’re desperate to find a tiny piece of remorse or guilt in them. But you know eyes can only say so much. His dark irises give away nothing, his gaze cold and indifferent—devoid of the warmth and patience he pretends to hold for you, lacking the Reyes’ love you had once come to know.
Your heart sinks, and you suddenly understand the truth. Your “friend” is no longer the person you once knew and trusted. He’s not the sweet prospect that always listened to your ramblings when you visited the clubhouse. He’s not the man that spent days with you just because Neron was sent on a long mission and you were drowning in worry.
You don’t know this man who kneels before you now and pretends to be your friend. He became a completely different person, someone that you can no longer trust or rely on. It is a devastating reality, and the pain of betrayal cuts even deeper into your heart—it claws at it and leaves marks that’ll never heal.
You know he doesn’t even slightly feel threatened by your presence. If he had reservations when he opened the door, they evaporated just as quick as you stepped foot into the trailer. You were just a woman, a creature smaller and weaker than a man like him. There was nothing about you that screamed danger. He allowed himself to drop his guard down—a mistake he’ll pay for.
“Don’t give up. One day you’ll wake up, and it won’t hurt anymore. You’re gonna get through it.” As your name leaves his lips after his empty promise—you almost shudder. He stands up and kisses the crown of your head—the nausea his touch draws out of you keeps growing. “Do you want to stay at the clubhouse tonight? I can keep you company. Maybe we can finish a bottle of tequila like in the good old days,” he offers.
You want to believe he’s genuine so badly. You want Neron back. You want your friend—the good version of Ezekiel Reyes—back. But deep down, you know you already made peace with the fact that it’ll never happen, that it’s time to say goodbye to both of them before they’ll drag you down with them.
You agree with a simple nod of your head and let EZ pull you to your feet and out of the trailer. He walks ahead, spinning the keys to the clubhouse in his fingers as he whistles a tune under his nose. You follow him, heart palpitating. You have to do it now, or you’ll lose your bravery.
Ezekiel looks back at you when you reach the door to the clubhouse, his eyes studying you. For a second, a fear pops into your head that maybe he’s well aware of the plan you made up in your head, and he’s just toying with you, but it disappears instantly when the man turns away and jabs the key into the keyhole.
You don’t wait. You pull the gun out of your waistband and stand behind him, raising it to his head. Your fingers pop the safety off, and you watch as EZ freezes, his shoulders tensing.
“You were like a family to me,” you mumble out, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes. You know if you give him a few more minutes, the shock will wear off, and he’ll overpower you in an instant, slapping the gun straight out of your hands. “I hope Neron doesn’t give you a second of peace down there, you lying piece of rat shit.”
Your fingers are steady as you pull the trigger. The shot reverberates through the night as the blood and brain tissue splatter on your face. The man in front of you takes his last breath as he falls face-first onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. You kick him in the ass for good measure before you turn away and jump down the steps, leaving him on the doorstep of his beloved club. When his brothers find his body the next morning, you’ll be long gone, somewhere far away from Santo Padre.
You don’t feel the sweet relief you hoped for.
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flightlessangelwings · 6 months
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Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism
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Bishop Losa x fem!reader
Word count- 1.2k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, public sex, hint at a bj,dirty talk, praise kink, cum eating, reader wears short shorts and a low cut top, no use of y/n
Notes- I had SO much fun writing this one y'all have no idea! And it was something a little different for me too! Prompt list made by me. Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!
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~
“Nice shot, baby,” Bishop purred as you sank another ball in the net.
The two of you played pool in the clubhouse while everyone else gathered and drank and laughed. Angel and Coco played darts in the corner, and they squabled like siblings when each thought the other was losing. Visitors from other chapters of the Mayans filled the clubhouse, and everyone was having a great time.
But all Bishop could focus on was you. How sexy you looked when you bent over the pool table to take your shot. How your brow furrowed in concentration, your determination to beat him apparent on your face. How your breasts started to spill out of your top. How your shorts were just short enough to show a little hint of asscheck, something Bishop always loved.
Vaguely, you were aware of Bishop's heavy gaze on you, but you were too focused on your shot to put your full attention to. You cursed under your breath when you missed your next shot, but when you turned to him next to you, your heart pounded in your chest. Sweat lined your brow, and it wasn’t just from the heat inside the space.
Bishop eyed you up and down with a smirk on his face, “Baby you’re so fuckin’ sexy when you care about a stupid game of pool like that,” his tone was low as he sauntered towards you, closing the space between your bodies and settling slightly behind you.
“Bish,” you couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped your lips as he caressed your hips and pressed his body against yours. But, as he grasped your ass, giving it a little smack, you let out a low moan that would have caught the attention of anyone nearby if it weren’t for a roar of laughter that erupted at the same time.
“I bet I could fuck you with my fucking fingers right here and no one would notice,” Bishop groaned into your ear as he nibbled on your neck and a hand dripped under the hem of your shorts.
“You what?!” you were caught off guard by his words. But, as he tickled your pussy every so slightly, you found any care you might have had vanished.
“Do you want me to, baby?” Bishop purred, “You want me to fuck you with my fingers right here? Let anyone who might notice see you cum on my fuckin’ fingers?”
If you said the word, Bishop would pull away, albeit he would definitely take you into a closet or bathroom and fuck you in private instead. You felt his hardening cock against your thigh and you let out another moan. The room spun as you thought it over, “I want you to,” you finally whispered as you turned your head and kissed him deeply.
“Let me hear you say it, sweetheart,” he murmured as he bucked his hips against your body and sank his hand lower into your shorts, feeling the warmth of your cunt under his fingers.
“I want you to fuck me with your fingers… Right here,” your tone was low and sultry and dripped with need, “And let anyone watch as you make me cum.”
“That’s my girl,” Bishop growled as he suddenly dove two fingers into your pussy.
You gasped at the sudden intrusion and lurched forward to grab onto the pool table for balance. Bishop stayed close, using his body to support you from behind as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck baby… So wet for me.”
All you could do was moan as your body quickly warmed from his touch. 
Bishop wrapped his other arm around your body and cupped at your breast through your shirt, rubbing at your nipple through the fabric, “Does it turn you on, sweetheart?” he asked in a deep voice, “That anyone could look over and see you like this?”
“Y-yes,” you admitted in a whisper.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, “Anyone could look over here and see how fucking sexy you look like this,” he thrust his fingers more roughly into you, hitting spots deep inside you, “But they can only see your face, baby… This fucking pussy,” he gave another harsh thrust, “Is mine.”
“Yours,” you moaned as you saw stars. You gripped the table so hard you almost felt like it could break under your grasp, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care about anything else other than how good Bishop fucked you with his fingers, and how much you craved your release.
“That’s my good girl,” Bishop praised as his rubbed your clit with his thumb, “So fuckin’ good taking my fingers right here in the fucking clubhouse.”
“Bish…”
Suddenly he froze. When you let out a whine, he murmured your name, “Looks like we caught someone’s attention, baby.”
You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, noticing a prospect from the other chapter across the room. His eyes bore into you and his thoughts were easy to read from the look on his face. His jaw clenched and he had a grip on his beer bottle so tight that he might shatter at any second.
“Why don’t we give him a show?” you purred as you turned and gave Bishop a heated kiss.
“I fucking love you, baby,” Bishop chased your lips when you broke away and kissed you once more before he started thrusting his fingers into you once more.
You moaned loudly against his lips as you rested your head on his shoulder, surrendering yourself to the Mayan completely. Your mind swam as you felt your orgasm quickly build from Bishop hitting your sweet spot over and over again while his thumb grazed your clit.
“He can watch, baby,” Bishop growled as he picked up his pace, “But he can’t have you,” his tone dropped as his grip on you tightened, “You’re fucking mine.”
“Yours… Yes… Fuck…”
“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me,” Bishop groaned as he felt your inner muscles clench around his fingers, “Show that fucking prospect what he can’t have.”
With that, you came hard with a scream. Your entire body trembled as you fought to keep yourself upright against the pool table, and you felt yourself gush onto Bishop’s fingers. He talked you through your climax, mumbling praises and curses in your ear as you rode out your high on his fingers.
The only reason no one else noticed was because the prospect snapped his beer bottle in his head the moment you screamed, and everyone else was too busy watching him to notice what you and Bishop were up to on the other side of the room. Some of the others cursed and berated the prospect, but a fierce look from Bishop kept him quiet about why he suddenly caused a scene.
“That’s my good girl,” Bishop cooed your ear in a softer tone as he pulled out of you, “So fucking sexy,” he added as he turned you to face him and made you watch as he licked his fingers clean, “And delicious too.”
“Bish!” you playfully chastised him with a light smack on his shoulder as your face felt hot, “That was really hot, though,” you admitted as you shimmied your shoulders softly and placed your hands on his chest, “How about I return the favor?” your tone dropped as you slowly sank to your knees, “Right fucking here.”
Bishop’s eyes went wide and a pulse of need shot through his veins, “Baby, I fuckin’ love you,” he blurted out as he readied himself for your mouth.
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