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fanficimagery · 2 years

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Angel’s Reina

The Sons of Anarchy have always wondered just what type of man SAMCRO's Princess was into, but she never dated. Or if she did, she was super secretive about it and managed to date undetected. Now, however, the Sons have some visitors and it seems they're finally going to find the answer to their long awaited question.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: Sons!AU because Clay and Gemma make everything worse and I like to keep shit lighthearted and fun. Sorry.

For your entire life, being hailed as SAMCRO's princess felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Add in a mother like Gemma Teller and a stepfather like Clay Morrow, and it made life all the more difficult. Especially when puberty hit and the Sons of Anarchy suddenly became overprotective big brothers and uncles.

But while they were overprotective, they were also curious as to why they'd never gotten the chance to dole out some pain to a hormonal teenage boy who thought he could put his hands all over you. Jax and Opie were the ones who were most interested in your hopefully nonexistent dating life, but it was your mother who was attempting to plan a wedding to any Son of your choosing so long as it kept you in Charming.

And staying in Charming wasn't really in your plans until Clay wound up dead and your mother not too far behind him thanks to her binge drinking ways.

It took a while for things to calm down within the Sons after losing their President and Queen, but Jax and Tara filled their roles perfectly. You reluctantly took over for the garage, but not before Jax completely gutted it and then upgraded it. You didn't mind the paperwork and filing system, but technology made things faster and easier and you weren't about to fall behind like you mother constantly was.

Then when things actually were calm and Jax started to make peace with the other MC's, only then did everyone start to loosen up and be at ease without constantly looking over their shoulders.

When the clubhouse parties started back up, it was hectic. The Sons and the hangarounds were ecstatic that the sweetbutts made a reappearance, but they weren't too ecstatic at Tara's rules for them. You sat and watched, and then helped your sister-in-law rid the clubhouse of the women who wouldn't stop pushing up on the married men. And when the men made a pass at you, you made sure to pull rank- as much as you hated it- and send the men on their way less they get a beat down from either yourself or your brother.

After numerous parties where you sent men on their way, the Sons started to become curious as to why you wouldn't hook up with anyone. They weren't as overprotective as they once were and were truly curious as to the type of man you'd invite to your bed. But when you refused to talk about the type of man you were attracted to, they took it upon themselves to figure it out by having shirtless men walk around the clubhouse.

They knew you didn't like them too old, so half the Sons were out. You'd seen Opie naked more times than you'd like to admit and never were awkward around him, so he was out too. You admitted to thinking Half-Sack was cute, but he was too nervous around you given your last name and Juice was- well he was too much of a horn dog. You didn't think he had it in him to be faithful, so you were never tempted by him.

The closest they got to you cracking was when Happy stripped out of his shirt in the middle of the club so he could be tattooed. The way he leaned against the bar, jeans riding low and the V of his hips on display, made you pause, but fortunately only Tara was the one who noticed. Her eyes widened, but you quickly shook your head and busied yourself to make you forget about the attractive sight just on the other side of the room. She laughed, but it was easy to squash the crush on the stoic man when you remembered the whole reusing condoms phase he went through and everyone who had to get tested for a STD.

Fortunately for you, Tara keeps your secret, but it was only a matter of time before the others found out.

Especially since the day before Halloween the Mayans decide to roll in for a weekend visit.

Sitting in your air conditioned office, your knee bounces anxiously as you stare at the clock in the corner of your computer screen. It's Friday, which means Halloween is tomorrow, and you're more than ready to start preparing for your favorite holiday. The second the clock strikes five, you're up and out of your seat, and lunging for the door.

"Alright, motherfuckers, clock out!" You yell after exiting your office. "It's Friday, tomorrow's Halloween, and if you're not dressing up then you know the drill! I want the candy tubs filled so all the crotch goblins of Charming leave here with a smile!"

Laughter meets your ears, everyone knowing how serious you took Halloween, and the men on shift start making their way towards you to clock out for the day. You smile at each of them, pulling the beanie from your head and tossing it onto your desk.

"YN!" Jax shouts. "Get over here."

Seeing your brother standing out in the parking lot, you immediately strip out of your plaid long sleeve. You wrap the sleeves around your waist, leaving you in a tank top and jeans, and continue to make your way outside. You squint your eyes as soon as the sun hits you, but you can still see a few new faces standing around your brother.

With a hand shielding your eyes, you nod at him. "What's up?" You quickly glance at the men around him, nodding in greeting, and you grin when you see a familiar face. "Obispo!"

The Mexican man has a lot more gray in his beard than you remember, but he's still as handsome as ever. You turn towards him, arms wide, and embrace him with a smile. "Princesa, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Bishop?"

"You can tell me for the rest of our lives, but it doesn't mean I'm going to listen." You squeeze him a little before stepping back. "What brings you guys to our backyard? Club shit or pleasure?"

"A little bit of both." You glance at each man then, shaking your head in amusement when you see their amused grins. "Mija, this is Creeper, Angel, and Ezekiel (call me EZ)." Your eyes trail over each man and pray the blazing sun is good enough reason to blame the impending redness of your cheeks on. Each man is handsome in their own right, but there's one among the group that is making your insides squirm.

You've heard the names of the Mayans before, but never really had any pictures to put a face to the name. Now, however, as Angel Reyes stands before you, you can't help but appreciate how he looks in a long sleeve shirt with its sleeves rolled up and showing off tattooed forearms.

When you see Angel's arms flex, your gaze darts up to his eyes crinkled in mirth and you know he caught you ogling. Narrowing your eyes slightly in return, you're about to introduce yourself when an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and squeezing you to the culprit's side. You grimace and look up to find your brother smirking. "Gentlemen, this is YN. Princess of SAMCRO." You roll your eyes at the title. "If you need anything and Tara isn't around, you go to her."

"Yeah, yeah. Prospect's still on bitch duty. I only handle the nuisances."

"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.

"Mhm. Some sweetbutts are rather persistent when it comes to a man in a kutte. If you got an old lady back home and don't want anyone pushing up on you, let me know right now. And for the love of god, stay away from Ima."

Jax chuckles as you sneer at the blonde's name. "What'd Ima do now?" Bishop wonders.

"Still has her sights on Ope, can't handle taking orders from Tara or I, and thinks she should get some special privileges around here because she's been around for years." You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Obispo, the next time she looks at me wrong I'm gonna take a bat to that prissy little car of hers."

"I thought your fighting days were over, mija?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you're quick to elbow him as the Mayans glance between the two of you in amusement. "She's a Teller, man. If she can't walk around with a kutte, she's gonna walk around with bloody fists."

"Shut up." You swat Jax's abdomen before stepping away from him. "I'm not a violent person."

"Not until Ima's involved."

"Whatever." You give your attention to the Mayans. "If you're sticking around through tomorrow, you guys gotta follow tradition."

"And what's that, querida?"

You gulp under Angel's stare and quickly avert your gaze. "If you refuse to dress up, you gotta hand over cash for the candy funds. Every year we set out a few tables of candy and the kids of Charming stop by. There's usually four or five stations- candy, chips, drinks and pencils with pencil toppers to encourage them to stay in school. Bobby's in charge of the grill and Juice is on music. It's my favorite night of the year and no one is going to mess it up for me."

"You guys don't have to chip in," Jax says and you gasp, scandalized he would say such a thing.

Bishop, however, chuckles and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. You give a short happy squeal when Bishop pulls out a fifty and gestures for his boys to do the same. Jax rolls his eyes as you skip forward and pluck the cash from Bishop's hand, and then kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Obispo."

"De nada."

Creeper and EZ are holding out twenties when you glance at them, and you pluck them with a smug smile. When you move on to Angel, however, he pulls his cash back when you reach for it. "Don't I get a kiss too, querida?"

You narrow your eyes at the smug Mexican, heart pounding. When he continues to smirk, you roll your eyes and push up on the tips of your toes to kiss his cheek while plucking the cash from his hands. "There. Happy?"

"Over the moon."

You snort and turn around, folding the cash in your hands to pocket when your brother's next words make you tense. "YN, are you- are you blushing?"

"What? No!" You blurt a little too fast, eyes wide when you look up.

Jax's own eyes are wide, mouth agape in his shock. Slowly but surely, he starts to smile. "Did- did one of the Mayans just break our case wide open?"

"No!"

"Uh, what case, 'mano?"

"Nothing!" You whirl around, pointing a finger at Angel who's quick to step back with his hands up. "Don't worry about it."

"Holy shit." Your brother laughs. "He did!"

"It's fucking hot out here, Jackson! I'm red because of the heat!"

"Or you're red because you got a thing for them Spanish boys," he says a little too smugly. Your mouth drops open and he laughs even harder. "Oh fuck. Wait until I tell the boys."

Unable to think of anything that will deter your brother, you hit him with your shoulder as you pass. "You're a dick, Jax."

"Love you too, sis."

As the group of men watch YN Teller stalk off, Bishop chuckles. "Care to fill us in, el presidente?"

Jax glances back at the Mayans, grinning. "For a couple years now we've been trying to figure out just what type of man my sister is attracted to. She's never brought anyone around and while we know of a few people she thinks are attractive, none of them have made her blush like your boy Angel has."

Angel suddenly preens at the news, clutching his kutte and straightening it out, and EZ rolls his eyes before smacking the back of his brother's head. "Don't even think about it, hermano."

"Why not? Big bro doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

EZ glances at Jax and the blonde chuckles. "If he thinks he can handle her, I say go for it. My sis is a pain in the ass. It'll be hilarious to see her squirming for once."

Bishop shakes his head at his secretary. "If you go after la princesa, don't mess around with the sweetbutts. We don't need any unnecessary drama."

"Whatever you say, Bish. Whatever you say."

Jax laughs as he gestures for the Mayans to follow him inside. "Come on. Let's hammer out the details for the gun trade because come tomorrow this place is going to be Halloween central and my sister will cut a bitch if anyone ruins her night."

. .

As the night progresses, the clubhouse fills with its usual hangarounds and sweetbutts. You've opted to tend to the bar next to Half-Sack, keeping an eye on the happenings all around to make sure you don't have to interfere. Occasionally your gaze slides over Angel, eyes narrowing at all the sweetbutts gathered around the group. You keep telling yourself you're watching them more than usual because Jax and Opie are there, but you can't fool yourself for long. You're keeping an eye on which sweetbutt is gonna get the most disgusting chores around the club for getting too close to Angel.

"Wow. Jax wasn't kidding." Tara slides onto a stool across from you, eyes sparkling in amusement. "The Mayan, YN? Really?"

Your gaze snaps to your sister-in-law and you lower yourself behind the bar, arms crossed atop the counter as your chin rests on your arm. "I can't help it. He's so pretty."

"Wow. I for sure thought you were going to be attracted to the bald one after I saw you ogling Happy that one time."

You chuckle. "They're all hot, Tara, but Obispo is too old, Creeper looks like a strong silent type and EZ seems just a tad too goofy. His smile reminds me too much of Juice."

"What do you like about Angel then? That is his name, right?"

"Yes, and.." you sigh longingly. "I don't know. "He's just- he's pretty," you whine. Tara's head tips back as she laughs. "And then he started with the pet names in Spanish and the lady bits started tingling. It was lust at first sight."

"Do we have to worry about you starting a fight over the Mayan?" Your sister-in-law continues to giggle.

You sigh and then straighten up, grabbing up a dish towel and wiping down the bar top. "Nah. I mean I might glare and be a little petty, but I won't start an actual fist fight. Just a couple more hours and then I get to go home, and all will be well come tomorrow."

"Or he and every sweetbutt dressed in a slutty costume will test your resolve tomorrow night, and I'll end up having to babysit your ass."

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this."

"Oh I am," she muses.

Tara keeps you company for the rest of the night, pulling you from behind the bar and taking great pleasure in seeing you squirming over some guy. You end up sitting with the group of guys, sandwiched between Opie and Happy, and doing your best to not look in Angel's direction. Then when the clubhouse starts to clear out, Jax has Juice bring out a dry erase board.

"What's going on?" Bishop asks as he takes in the names written on the board.

"They're making a bet on what my costume will be," you say.

"Please let it be something slutty," Tig begs. "Like last year! That was a great costume," he says while crossing himself and then holding his hands together as if in prayer. You laugh.

"What were you last year?" Angel asks, eyebrow arched.

You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."

"The stockings. Oh god, the stockings," Tig groans as the men all chuckle.

"Dios mío." Bishop snorts, shaking his head.

Every bet is worth ten bucks and you're not surprised over half of them guess you'll be something sexy and/or slutty- Velma from Scooby Doo, Harley Quinn, and a ringmaster being some of your favorite guesses. Even the Mayans get in on the fun, Angel and Creeper immediately going the slutty route as well with hopes of you dressing as a sexy cheerleader or a sexy witch. Surprisingly it's EZ and Bishop who take their time thinking about it, but while their guesses are of the non-sexy variety, they still don't guess it.

"You guys are insane." You chuckle as they argue over who's got it right, some even changing their guesses.

"But did we get it right, querida?" Angel wonders.

You shrug and stand, getting ready to call it a night so you're well rested for dealing with all the candy hungry little gremlins. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"And don't go changing your outfit at the last second, lass," Chibs calls out.

"I'm not." Your eyes roll. "But just a heads up, you boys are on your own tomorrow. I'll be here in the morning to make sure we have everything that you'll be setting up and then I'll be going back home to dress."

"It involves makeup, doesn't it?" Jax guesses. You slowly grin at him and the men all curse, hurriedly changing their vote yet again.

"Happy guessing, boys! I'll see most of you tomorrow evening."

You get several decent hours of sleep before you make your way back to Teller-Morrow Automotive and make sure the early rising sweetbutts and Half-Sack know how to decorate for the evening's festivities. Then after making sure everything is in order so the night will run smoothly, you swing by the local diner to pick up some breakfast before heading home.

You don't have to start getting ready until three or so, so you set an alarm and go back to sleep.

And then when your alarm goes off, you take your time in the shower to exfoliate and prepare yourself for the transformation you're about to go through.

The first thing you do after drying off is blow dry your hair. You don't want to curl it too soon, so you clip it at the back of your head to deal with later. Then shooting off a quick text to your neighbor to get her ass to your place, you get started on your makeup.

From your hairline down to the top of your chest, you paint yourself white. Your neighbor gets in just in time to paint the back of your neck and your back, and helps you decide where the best places to shade in black are. Your temples, eyes, mouth, neck and collar bones get shaded in black, and then your neighbor helps you glue on some golden decals around your face, brow, neck and collar bones. You use the gold paint to paint your nose and mouth, and then you keep a small fan on your face while your neighbor curls your hair for you before pinning it to one side of your head so your curls fall over your left shoulder.

As you're looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to put in some whiteout contact lenses to give you an even creepier vibe. Your neighbor helps you into your strapless white lace dress with a short train that looks as if you walked through ash, and then you dip your fingers into the golden paint one by one.

"Holy shit, babe. You look hot," your neighbor gushes. You wrinkle your nose at her, counting down the minutes until your fingers dry so you can be on your way. "Are you sure you're not trying to impress someone?"

"I'm not." You laugh. "I've had this costume planned for weeks. It's not my fault the hot guys came after."

"Hot guys? What hot guys?"

"Mayans from down south. There's this one in particular who keeps calling me pet names in Spanish. It's taking everything in me to not climb him like a tree."

Your neighbor laughs. "Well if you do, take a picture of him so when you give me all the filthy details, I'll have a face to put to the name."

"Will do."

When you're all set to go, you grab your golden starburst crown and carry it with you. You didn't want to put it on and hit the roof of your car, so you figure you'll just put it on when you get to your destination. Then after kicking your neighbor out and locking up, you find yourself in your car and heading back towards your place of employment.

The orange and black streamers along the fence line of TM Automotive makes you smile, as well as the purple twinkling lights you can barely see since the sun was still in the sky. Inside the parking lot, there are four long tables set up- each table draped in a black, orange, green or purple tablecloths. One table contains nothing but buckets of candy, another is lined with small bags of chips, another has juice boxes, and the last has fun pencils, pencil toppers, and tiny toy desk companions for the kids to play with. There are even Halloween inflatables- a Frankenstein, a patch of cruelly smiling pumpkins, and a black cat- and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

Parking off to the side of the building and away from prying eyes, you hurriedly get out and use the reflection of your window to put your crown on. Once it's situated, you start your trek around the side of the building and towards the front where everyone is lingering about.

Jax spots you first and his brow furrows before you smile, wiggling gold-tipped fingers at him. "Cat got your tongue, Jackson?"

"Holy shit! YN?"

Angel, who'd been laying on his bike, smirks before pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Damn, mami, you do that yourself?"

"Yep." You strike a pose for them before giggling. "So, I think my costume falls under the category of skeleton. Who had that?"

Bishop raises his hand and the gathered men all groan as a roll of bills are passed over to him. He's all swagger as he saunters up towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Te ves hermosa (you look beautiful)."

"Thank you, Obispo."

Everyone approaches you, getting a close up of your makeup and wondering if you truly did do it yourself. And after you've answered their questions, you're surprised when Creeper asks if he can take a picture with you.

"Yeah. Of course."

You oblige him, standing just to the side of him as he takes a seat on a chair. With one hand on his shoulder, you glance off to the side as he stares the camera head on. Then for the second picture, you're staring straight at the camera so they can capture how wicked your eyes look.

"What about me, querida? Do I get a picture too?" Angel asks.

"Oh! I have the perfect idea," Juice says. Then looking at Angel, he says, "Sit up."

You can only shake your head in amusement, stepping closer to Juice as Angel hands his phone to the Puerto Rican. Juice proceeds to have Angel sit sideways on his bike, feet planted on the ground so his knees are parted. Then you're instructed to stand between Angel's knees as one of his hands grips onto his handlebar and the other gently holds onto the back of your thigh. Your breath lightly hitches, but it's still obvious to Angel as he smirks up at you.

"Shut it," you mumble.

Juice then instructs you to lightly cradle the side of Angel's face in your hand, your gold-tipped fingers sticking out against his dark facial hair. You hear many catcalls and swallow down a laugh, finally snorting when you hear Opie grumble, "Goddammit. She wore makeup on purpose so we couldn't see her blush."

Juice snaps a couple pictures of you and Angel staring into each other's eyes, and then he moves to stand behind Angel's back. Now both of Angel's hands are on the back of your thighs and you're looking up over his head, staring directly at Juice as EZ fixes his brother's kutte upon Juice's suggestion. He has you looking at the camera head on then, and he snaps a few more pictures.

"Thank you, mi reina," Angel murmurs when you're finally allowed to step back.

You quietly groan and tug on the hair at his chin. "Shut it. I actually know what that one means."

He chuckles darkly and lets you walk away to collect yourself. Then as you make sure the tables are all set and those who are going to help you pass out the goodies are ready, Angel and Juice huddle together so Juice can edit the pictures on Angel's phone with settings that the Mexican didn't even know his phone had.

The trick-or-treating starts before the sun even sets.

Parents used to be hesitant to let their children into the decorated parking lot for Halloween, but you did the most to change everyone's opinion about the MC. Not everyone approved of the tactics the Sons used to keep their streets clean and children safe, but the locals were less hostile towards the Sons now and even uttered a greeting to them when seen out in public.

The Mayans sit off to the side with the Sons who haven't been tasked by YN to hand out goodies, sipping on their beers and eating food that someone had grilled.

"Man, the people of Santo Padre are nothing like this," EZ says, gesturing to the people who are laughing and taking pictures. "They either hate us or are terrified of us. None of them would greet us with smiles like this."

"It wasn't always like this," Jax says. "They used to tolerate us- greeting us to be polite but then scurrying away."

"What changed?" Bishop wonders.

"YN." Opie grins as he watches the woman he sees as a sister. "As soon as Clay and Gemma kicked the bucket, YN fought tooth and nail to turn shit around for us."

The Mayans all glance at Jax at the casual way Opie mentioned his mother and Clay's passing, and the blonde shrugs with a chuckle. "It's no secret YN was dying to get out of Charming because of Gemma and the trouble Clay landed us in, but with them out of the picture she decided to settle down and help clear the club's name."

Angel glances at YN, watching as the kids happily greet her while some even high five her in greeting. He only has eyes for the skeletal queen that Tig's chortle startles him out of his staring. "Oh shit, boys. Ima incoming."

Everyone glances in the direction Tig is looking, but only Creeper sits a little straighter at the blonde bombshell sauntering her way towards them in a sexy nurse outfit.

"She might be hot, gentlemen, but she's not worth the trouble," Jax says. He leans back in his seat, arching an eyebrow as the woman in question nears. "What are 'ya doing here, Ima?"

"It's a party, Mr. President," she muses. "Isn't it an open invitation?"

"It is, but you also know it's YN's favorite holiday and you take sick pleasure in pissing my sister off."

The tightening of her smile is obvious, but no one says anything. "I promise to be on my best behavior," she says. "And besides, we have guests." Her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at each and every Mexican. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't show them a good time?"

Opie snorts, not bothering to cover it up or explain himself as Ima glares at him.

"We're good, mujer," Bishop says.

"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.

Ima hears him and practically perks up, sauntering towards him and placing herself in his lap. Everyone chuckles, shaking their head, but they figure this is a mistake Creeper needs to make and learn from for himself.

"Well while you're diddling the Sons' sloppy seconds, I'm gonna go check on mi reina," Angel muses as he stands.

Jax chuckles. "I got twenty bucks that says you can't drag my sister away from candy duty."

"You're on, vato."

"YN?" Ima petulantly pouts. "If you're looking for a good time, I'm loads better."

Creeper quietly groans as EZ starts to laugh. "So close." He pushes Ima off his lap and the blonde scoffs before stomping off when she realizes the group of men are not going to cater to her hurt feelings. "Are all the females like her?"

"Nah. Most of them are pretty decent," Jax says. "They're just being on their best behavior right now because kids are coming and going, and they know my sister will kick their ass if they step one toe out of line."

Everyone watches as Angel takes his leave, startling YN as he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist while laying his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you really okay with that?" Bishop asks, gesturing to his secretary and Jax's younger sister. "If that's gonna be an issue, I'll warn him off."

"It's fine." Jax waves him off. "Let them have their fun. But if he tries to take her back to Santo Padre, then we're gonna have issues."

Opie laughs as EZ's smile falters. "YN is the only one who properly knows how to run the garage. If she splits, we're fucked."

Creeper chuckles as he keeps an eye out for a female to keep him company later on. "Don't say that, man. Bishop will encourage Angel to bring the girl home if it means she can get the office at the scrap yard in order."

Bishop salutes him with his beer bottle. "Chucky's a big help, but Lord knows we need someone else in there."

As the Mayans and Sons laugh over shared stories of Chucky and how he's faring down in Santo Padre now, Ima glares at the interactions from the opened doorway to the clubhouse. The hottest Mayan of the group chats up YN Teller and the other patched member she had sat on the lap of catches the attention of another passing sweetbutt. So far her night was not going well and she was not happy about it at all.

. .

Once the trick-or-treating is over for the night, you head into the bathroom to remove the golden decals from your face, leaving them only on your neck and collar bones, and then retouch your Halloween makeup. You even lose the crown before grabbing a beer and then head over to the group of men you felt at ease with.

As you're walking towards an empty seat, Angel surprises you by grabbing you by the wrist to tug you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen, though it's tough to tell with the way you're all painted up, but Opie still snorts his amusement. "Goddammit. The makeup is still covering the blush."

Hearing his words, you glance over at your best friend and flip him off as you let yourself relax in Angel's embrace. By the way he's holding your waist, he has no intentions of letting you up. So turning on his lap and snuggling down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, you ask, "Am I here because you want me here or because the sweetbutts are circling?"

"Because I want you here." You take a sip of your beer, grinning. "And because your arch nemesis keeps making the rounds, waiting for a green light from one of us."

"Of course she is." Your eyes roll as you look for the blonde in question. "She's angling for the title of old lady, no matter the charter. Whatever puts her in a higher rank than me, she'll take it and then use her position to order me around."

"What's her deal?"

"She used to fuck my brother in hopes of him giving her his crow, but then Tara came into the picture and stole his attention. When she wouldn't let up, I kicked her ass." You lift your head to take another sip of your beer, smirking when Angel groans at the thought of you being violent. "Then she honed in on Opie after his wife died and I shut that shit down. He got together with Lyla soon after and Ima tried coming in between them, so I kicked her ass again."

"You like throwin' hands, don't you?"

"If I need to, then yeah. I'm very protective of those I consider mine," you tell him. "So, if you need someone's ass beat down in Santo Padre, you know where to find me."

Angel chuckles as the hand resting on your thigh squeezes. "I'm yours, huh?"

"Mhm," you hum.

Your lips twitch as you hold his stare, your gaze briefly glancing at his lips as you subconsciously lean towards him. All the noise surrounding you seems to fall away, but before anything interesting can happen, a hand is landing on your shoulder.

"Goddammit, Tig! I was just about to win the bet," Juice complains.

Jax, Opie, Happy, Chibs, Bishop, and EZ explode with laughter, and you narrow your eyes at all of them. "What bet?"

"How long it'd take for you and Angel to hook-up," your brother muses.

Angel chuckles beneath you and you roll your eyes, standing up. As you finish off your beer, Tig says, "Hey sweet face, I heard Ima spreading some rumors about you to anyone who'll listen."

From the corner of your eye, you see the blonde in question falter in her steps, but you pay her no mind. "I don't give a shit who talks behind my back. Bitch knew better than to let me hear." Tig laughs, his gaze darting between you and Ima, but she doesn't say anything in response. Sighing, you then glance around at all the men who were hoping for some drama. "Anyone need a beer?"

As the night progresses, Angel's lap becomes your personal seat. You've tried four different times to sit on a couch or chair, especially when a sweetbutt sidled up to him when you made a trip to the bar or bathroom, but he always caught you and dragged you back towards him as you tried to pass. No one said a word and the sweetbutts backed off when they realized you were interested in him, but you had to shake your head at your brother when you could see the amusement and approval in his eyes.

You ended up having only two beers before you switched to water since you still had to drive home, and Angel stopped after three. Everyone's talking and laughing, and it makes your heart happy to see both MC's getting along.

By the third time you've yawned, Angel taps your thigh and urges you to stand up. "Come on, hermosa. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"You need sleep."

Angel grabs your hand just as you catch Jax's gaze and at his arched eyebrow, you shake your head. You will not be spending the night in the dorms.

But still you walk hand-in-hand with Angel, letting him lead the way down a familiar hallway and towards a dorm that Jax most likely assigned him. Just as he moves to grab the key from his pocket, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. "As much as I wanna spend the night with you, I need to go home." Angel glances at you in surprise, mouth opening to reply, but you push on. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping with all this makeup on," you say while gesturing to your face and upper body. "And I need my contact case for the lenses. I actually really like these."

Angel sighs, realizing you have a point. He gives up on the hunt for his room key, turning so his back is to the wall and he's holding onto both of your hands loosely in front of him. "Too bad, querida. We roll out as soon as we wake up tomorrow."

A moment of silence lingers between the two of you before your lips twitch. "Well.. you could always come back to mine." You step closer, dropping one of his hands so your hand can cradle the side of his neck before sliding back and scraping the back of his neck with your nails. His eyelids flutter as he quietly groans and you smirk. "Bed's big enough for more than one person."

"Is that right?" Angel gulps.

"Yep." You pull on his neck so he lowers his face towards you, but stop him when he's close enough for your lips to brush his. "Think of all the uninterrupted fun we could have." He tries to capture your lips, but you pull back just out of reach. "I would kiss 'ya, but I'm not about to smear my makeup all around your mouth and let those idiots out front know exactly what's going on."

His resolve seems to harden right before your eyes. "House. Now."

As soon as Angel straightens up, his grip tightens on your one hand and he practically drags you out of the hallway. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, your laughter growing louder at the whoops and hollers you hear from both the Sons and Mayans as they watch him drag you away. Suddenly, you're very grateful for your skeletal makeup because you can feel your face and ears burning.

As you near the exit to the clubhouse, you can't help but smirk as you flip off Ima who's watching you and Angel with a frown.

Happy Halloween indeed.

#angel reyes x reader #soa gen fic x reader #mayans gen fic x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #jax teller #angel reyes #obispo losa #bishop losa #sons of anarchy #soa #mayans #mayans mc

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ravennaortiz · 3 months

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Two Worlds

Summary: How does Manny handle finding Juice in his sisters house. Sons/Mayans AU. 18+ Flashbacks/Time Jumps.

This was requested by @hatersaremymotivators using the prompts number 2. I'm not the right man for you and number 7. Stay away from my sister.

Neither man spoke for a moment as they stared at each other. "Go ahead and finish putting your shirt on." drawled Manny his face giving Juice no hint as to what he was thinking. Juice yanked his black tshirt down quickly and stepped to the table where the Mayan was sitting. "You must be Manny. Lupe has told me a lot about you" stated Juice as he extended his hand out to shake. "Odd she's not said a word about you" replied Manny as he leaned back in the chair letting his words fall between them like grenades.

Juice nodded as he withdrew his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Angel and the others had warned him about Manny. That he wouldn't approve of Lupe dating a Son. "Listen man. I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot here. Finding a random guy in your" started Juice trying to make light of the awarknedness. "I'mma cut you off. Facts are I never wanna see you in my sisters house, around my sister, say her name ever again after this moment" stated Manny as he leaned forward on his elbows his eyes never leaving Juices.

"Are you asking me to break up with your sister?" questioned Juice taken aback. "No I'm telling you. You two should never have been together in the first place. I get my sister being a bit naïve on the danger but you? Your a grown man who knows the darker side of the leather we wear. Sons and Mayans might have an alliance now but what about when that gets broken? Mayans and SONs will both want her dead." snapped Manny his voice tight and low with anger. Juice was shocked at the venom in Mannys voice and couldn't speak for a moment. "I would never let anyone hurt Lupe. Your sister" started to reassure Juice before Manny sighed and stood up. " Look, I've been told your a good dude and that you are treating Lupe like she deserves. I appreciate that but I want you to stay away from my sister. This will be our only talk on the matter." stated Manny as he made his way out of the kitchen. "I don't repeat myself either by the way" called Manny over his shoulder.

Four Months Prior

"The regal Guadalupe is gracing us mere peasants with her presence tonight boys" greeted Angel as he kicked EZ out of the chair for her. "Eres un niño"(you such a child) stated Lupe as she rolled her eyes at Angel. "I love when you call me names mami" purred Angel as he leaned in to her space. "¿No recuerdas qué pasó con el último hombre que entró en mi espacio personal? (Do you not remember what happened to the last man who got in my personal space?). replied Lupe as she patted his cheek as she smiled at him. "Sí. Lo enterré. (Yes. I buried him) answered Angel with a chuckle.

"You two are so weird" muttered Coco as he took a drag off his cigarette as Gilly nodded in agreement. "Says the man who pretended to be his daughters brother for most of her life and now wonders why she wont listen to him" snipped Lupe making Gilly and Angel laugh. "You know you could be nicer" replied Coco as he rolled his eyes. "I'm letting your kid live with me. How much nicer do you want me to be" replied Lupe with a raised brow. "I have a list" replied Coco with a smirk as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "On that note I'm going to get another beer" replied Angel as he stood up while Coco and Lupe bickered away.

A couple hours later a guy with a mohawk and tribal tattoos on his head caught Lupes attention as he spoke to Bishop and a man named Chibs who was the President of the Sons. Lupe sipped her beer as she studied the well muscled man with a gorgeous smile. "I'll catch you guys later" stated Lupe as she stood up and made her way over to the bar where the men were now standing.

Juice had been casually scanning the crowd still not feeling quite at home in the Mayans clubhouse when a leggy brunette with curves he would love to travel stepped into his view. Juice felt his soul leave his body when there eyes met. He was so entranced in her aura that he didn't register she was speaking to him until he felt Chibs nudge him in the back.

"I'm sorry I didn't hear you" half fibbed Juice as he felt himself start to sweat as she cocked her head to the side. "I said, hi I'm Guadalupe but you can call me Lupe. " repeated the gorgeous woman in front of him as she let her eyes drift over him. He's even hotter up close Lupe thought to herself. "Juice" replied Juice as he stook out his hand to shake. The feel of her soft skin against his roughened made sparks fly as she laughed. "Something tells me your momma didn't carry you for months on end and endure birth to just name you Juice" joked Lupe as she smiled at him. Juice chuckled as he nodded. "Real name is Juan Carlos" he explained as he took a sip of his beer to calm his nerves. "Juan Carlos. I like the sound of that" purred Lupe as she put her hand on his forearm. "I like how you say it" replied Juice as he shot her a wink.

Next Morning Lupe's House

Lupe had just stepped into her kitchen, where Letty sat drinking coffee and eating breakfast ,when she heard her front door open and Angel call out. "To what do I owe this early morning visit?" inquired Lupe as she walked into the living room yawning. "Did you bed a Son last night after you ditched your friends?" inquired Angel with arms folded as he shot her s sly look. "Hmm, I dont' think I understand your question" replied Lupe as she put on her best poker face.

"I'd say you gave him that good shit cause he was up before me and made us both food before that old man with scars picked him up just so you know. So like keep that up cause he cooks better than you" inserted Letty as she joined Angel and Lupe in the living room. "Letty" grumbled Lupe as her face warmed and Angel dropped to the floor laughing. "What? You deserve to have your back" started Letty making Angel howl louder with laughter as Lupe cut her off. "Enough! Room now please" snapped Lupe as she closed her eyes. "That kid is great" stated Angel as he wiped tears from his eyes after a couple minutes. "If you must know. Yes and we are going out to dinner next weekend" sighed Lupe as she made her way back to the kitchen with Angel hot on her heels.

Present Day

The clubhouse door slamming open and an angry tirade of Spanish mixed in with English had every Mayan in silence. Lupes eyes were ablaze and her mascara streaked cheeks were a sight as she scanned the room for her brother . Manny sighed as he slid out of a chair and made his way to her. "I'm a grown ass woman!" snapped Lupe as she jabbed her finger into her brothers chest. "Hell yeah she is. Look at that grown woman body" shouted Angel as he tried to diffuse the situation. "How dare you tell Juice to break up with me. Have him telling me " I'm not the right man for you?" continued Lupe each jab getting harder as her temper flared. "He's not Lupe. Being in two worlds is " started Manny as he stepped back slightly as his chest ached. "Screw you" interrupted Lupe as she stepped back into his personal space.

Want more Juice? Click here

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#ravennasmasterlist #sons of anarchy #juice ortiz #soa fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #manny mayans #ravennasoc #ravennasrequest #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #soa fanfic #sons of anarchy juice #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz headcanons #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz x oc

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sogoodtoheritsvicious · 1 year

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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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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Get Some Rest

Marcus Alvarez x F!Reader

For Day 2 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: stress/insomnia/"get some rest"

Warnings: 18+, language, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of scars

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I personally think it's a crime and a travesty that there aren't more Marcus Alvarez fics out there. So I'm creating the content I want to see.

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @anditsmywholeheart @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @adalanta (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You weren’t quite sure what it was that pulled you from your sleep. Opening your eyes, you were met with a room that was almost completely pitch black. The faintest hint of light was bleeding in through the curtains that covered the bedroom window. The streetlamp outside didn’t throw much light to begin with, so there was barely a shadow of a difference.

All you were able to see were the outlines of things, different shades of black. Even so, you could still feel that something was off. You couldn’t see his face to be sure, but you had the feeling that Marcus was awake in the bed beside you. His breathing was even, and he was lying perfectly still, but you could feel a certain type of energy radiating off of him. You never really saw him sleeping these days. You were always falling asleep before him, and he was always waking up before you. In that moment, though, you were wondering if he ever actually fell asleep at all.

“Marcus?” your voice was so quiet it almost didn’t even qualify as a whisper.

The swiftness of his response reinforced your concern that he had yet to fall asleep. “Mhm?” he mumbled softly.

You rolled onto your side so that you were facing him. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t make out the details of his face, or him yours. You still looked at him and even though you wouldn’t quite prove it, you knew that he was looking at you too.

“It’s late,” you said gently, reaching forward and resting one hand on his chest. “You should get some sleep.”

“I will,” he reassured you, and you could hear the faint rustling of his pillowcase that let you know he was nodding his head to reinforce his point.

You traced your thumb along the skin just below his collarbone, the space left exposed by the tank top that he’d worn to bed. “You should get some sleep tonight,” you emphasized your point.

It got a tired chuckle out of him as he brought his hand up and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I will,” he repeated, “I promise.”

Part of you wanted to turn the light on so that you could see his face, try to gauge what he was thinking. It was so hard to read him when you couldn’t really look into his eyes. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?” you asked, your voice still soft with worry.

He knew that you were going to worry about him no matter what, but he didn’t want to make it worse if he could help it. He sighed as he traced his thumb along the ring that was wrapped around your finger. “Here and there.”

“Marcus…” your voice trailed off.

“I know, I know.” He closed the distance between you and gently kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there for a few extra moments as he said, “It’s gonna get better soon.”

You let out a quiet sigh and leaned into him a little more, causing his lips to press against your forehead again. “For your sake, baby, I hope you’re right.”

He let out something akin to a hum as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body up against his. “We both know it’s gonna take more than a couple of late nights to put me out, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at him even though he couldn’t see it. “Don’t think you need to be pushing your luck, though.”

His hand slowly traced up and down your back. “What would I do if I wasn’t doing that?”

“Getting a full night’s rest, for starters,” you quipped back with no hesitation.

Your quick reply got a small chuckle out of him. He shook his head but neither of you said anything else for a few minutes. You focused on the slow, methodical way his hand roamed up and down your back. Meanwhile, Marcus couldn’t help but notice the way that your fingertips seemed to be seeking out all of his scars. Sometimes he wondered if you even knew that you were doing it, or if it was just that second-nature to you now. He knew that getting rest wasn’t the only thing on your mind when you thought about what his life, what your life together, would look like when things calmed down.

It was a matter of when, even though some days it felt more like if. He tried to keep reminding you of that, tried to keep reminding himself, too.

Another minute went by and then you felt him pulling away from you. You reached out to stop him, but then you realized that he was reaching for the lamp on his side of the bed. The distinct sound of the chain for the light filled the room, and then his side of the bed was covered in a soft, warm light.

With the light behind him, part of Marcus’s face was still cast in shadow. But you could still see the exhaustion in his face, the stress in his brows.

You were going to ask him what was wrong, but he beat you to the punch. “Talk to me.”

You exhaled through your nose, a short, crude version of a laugh—it was all your body could muster given the circumstances. Shaking your head, you said, “I worry about you.”

He nodded as he got himself into a more upright position. He moved so that his back was against the headboard, blanket still draped over his lap. Holding out one arm, he wordlessly asked you to come lay against him. So you did, situating yourself so that you were laying with your head against him, your arm draped over his middle.

He watched as you settled and got comfortable. “You always worry.”

You hummed in agreement, your eyes focused on your hand that was entwined with his. “You always give me reasons to.”

He chuckled quietly. Your tone wasn’t accusatory—it hardly ever was. It was half the reason the two of you could talk like this.

“What’s different this time, hm?” he asked.

You shrugged against him as you toyed with his wedding band. “I don’t know. Nothing, really.” You paused and looked up at him. “Is something different?”

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “It’s always the same shit.”

That got a more honest laugh out of you because you knew he was right. It was quiet between you again for a moment before you asked, “You ever think, sometimes, that we’re getting too old for the same shit?”

Much to your surprise, there was no hesitation in his response as he nodded. “Sometimes.” He moved his hand so that it was going up and down your back again. “But I’ve been thinking that for—”

“A long fuckin’ time,” you both said simultaneously. Both of you chuckled after the fact, too.

“That’s true,” you conceded.

He could hear the slight shift in your voice. “What are you thinking, huh?”

You pulled yourself a little tighter to him. “I’m thinking I’m going to start putting melatonin in your drink at dinner if you don’t start getting some sleep.”

He chuckled, leaning and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s gonna get better. Always does.”

You bit back a yawn. “I know. But it’s my job to worry anyway.”

He could feel the way you were starting to melt against him, sleep coming easy for you in a way it never had for him. “I know.”

“I love you,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt.

His hand stopped moving as he said, “I love you too.”

Seemingly unperturbed by the warm light coming from the lamp, it wasn’t long until you had fallen back to sleep. Your arm was still slung across Marcus’s stomach, his still wrapped around you. He was no closer to falling asleep than he had been before, but at least now he had you to look at.

#whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday2 #stress #insomnia #get some rest #marcus alvarez #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #soa #sons of anarchy #marcus alvarez x you #marcus alvarez x reader #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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bullet-prooflove · 9 months

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🌹😊

Just for you, I will post a few babe x

When Tig kisses you, it’s soft, his thumb caressing the blush of your cheek, those rings of his contrasting against your skin. There’s a tenderness in it and Clay fucking hates it. His Sergeant at Arms is a rabid dog on a leash, when he lets him off, he expects him to go feral.

Clay decides to fuck it up.

Weak - Tig x Reader

“Did he…”

You shake your head, your eyes stinging. He sees it, you know he does. His gaze slips down to your clothes, to the missing buttons, the torn pocket. The scent of another man’s aftershave on your skin. It fills him with vitriol, he knows he’s going to kill the son of a bitch who put his hands on you. He’s going to wrap his hands around his throat and choke the life right out of him.

A Pound of Flesh - EZ Reyes x Reader

“It’s my fault.” You say finally, reaching over to turn the radio down.

“You didn’t put the needle in her arm.” He says firmly, flicking the indicator on so that he can pull over because this feels like a conversation that should be had whilst stationary.

“I as good as did.” You tell him, tapping your thumb against your forefinger before moving onto the next. He recognises that motion, he knows you do it when your thinking, when your brain is struggling to comprehend something.

Grief Part Two: Fault

#bishop losa x reader #bishop mayans #bishop losa #obispo bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #ez reyes x you #tig soa #tig trager fanfic #tiggy #tig trager x reader #tig trager #alexander trager #alexander trager soa #alexander trager x you #alexander trager x reader

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the-hinky-panda · 6 months

Text

Strings: Part I

Title: Strings

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Les Packer x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Les had been high school sweethearts. You're going to be a music teacher, he's going to climb the ranks of the SAMDINO MC. The only thing that stands in your way is his mentally unstable brother, Isaac. Things fall apart and fifteen years later, your daughter calls Les for help when you're in a coma and she's trying to figure out how to stay out of foster care. Les is faced with figuring out if you daughter is his or possibly Isaac's. Either way, he can't walk away for a second time from you and your daughter.

She looks like you, that’s the first thing that strikes Les.

Her posture, straight and tense, the waves of hair falling over her shoulders, the serious set of her mouth. It isn’t until he enters the small diner and approaches the table that he realizes her nose and eyes are not like yours at all.

They’re a Packer’s.

The eye color is a mix, blue and green, like an unsettled sea. But the shape is most definitely Packer.

“Zoey, I presume?” As if she could be anyone else.

She nods once, those eerie eyes studying his face. “Mr. Packer.”

He hears one of his guys snort from a couple booths over. Hoosier from the sound of it. He wasn’t sure if this was a set up or not so back up was a must. Now, he’s regretting that decision. With a heavy sigh, he slips into the booth across from her. He doesn’t know if she knows anything about him, or Isaac. What you told her about her father. He doesn’t have enough information going into this meeting so he does what he always does in these situations: get the other person to talk.

“Alright, say what you have to say.”

She reaches under the table and pulls out a stack of slightly yellowed envelopes, all tied neatly together with a fraying blue ribbon. “My mom told me where to find these letters, in case anything happened to her.” She pushes them with shaking hands across the scratched formica towards him. “There’s not too many Les Packers in California. I just assumed…”

He recognizes the ribbon, remembers when he gave it to you, and fights the urge to reach out and touch it. He had used it to tie the stems of wildflowers together in a poor excuse of a bouquet when he had asked you out to some music in the park festival in Redlands. The next day, after the wildflowers had been arranged in a canning jar with water, you used the ribbon to tie your hair back away from your face while you played the guitar on a dilapidated back porch. He can still remember what the curve of your cheek felt like under his fingers, soft as the satin of the ribbon.

He clears his throat. “So something has happened to your mother?”

Zoey nods. “Yeah.”

“Is she…” even after sixteen years of distance, he still can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“No, but it’s bad. She’s in a coma.”

“For how long?”

“Six days today.” Zoey folds her hands in front of her and Les sees the ring on her middle finger. A small sterling silver band with a teardrop piece of turquoise.

“Your mama give you that ring?”

“No,” she turns it around her finger nervously. “I found it with the letters. In a safety deposit box. Do you want it-”

It’s a cheap thing he bought from a street vendor in San Diego. You had loved it, the colored veins in the blue rock. You had called it a piece of art and he handed over a twenty dollar bill for the treasure. He shakes his head. “Nah. Tell me what happened to your mom.”

“She was in an accident. On her motorcycle. She was coming back from a music recital at the middle school when a drunk driver clipped her. The police said she skidded across the road and h…h…hit a tree.”

That’s a nasty type of accident and it sounds like a miracle that you’re just in a coma and not dead. “Do you think that’s what really happened?”

Zoey’s entire face clouds over, tears gathering quickly in her eyes. “Yeah. The police arrested the guy.”

“So what am I here for?”

She pulls out another envelope, thick and wrinkled. “Here. It’s not a lot, about $560 but it’s all I have.”

He glances in the envelope and finds mostly $10s and $5s. “Where did you get this money?”

She fiddles with the fraying end of a braided bracelet around her wrist. “I’ve always saved up money. It’s just my mom and me. Some months are harder to pay the bills than others so I save up what I can to help when that happens.”

Les closes the envelope and sets it down on the table between them. It pains him to no end to hear that you’ve had to struggle financially because of him. Because of Isaac. And what little bit he had tried to do for you, to help ease that burden, wasn’t enough. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

He nods in understanding. “CPS is starting to snoop around.”

Zoey uses a shaky hand to wipe away her tears. “Yeah. They’re talking about putting me in a foster home. I overheard the lady tell the doctor that they need to get me in placement as soon as possible for when my mom…” She chokes down a sob. “My best friend in school is in a foster home. She says it’s terrible. She sleeps on the floor, has to take care of the younger kids and work a part time job. And the father…”

God, what is wrong with the world? Like he needed that confirmation to make his decision. He slides the money back over to her, along with the letters. Her face falls, thinking he’s going to say no. He’s failed in protecting you and your daughter. He’s not about to let that mistake continue. He’s stayed on the sidelines for far too long.

“What hospital is your mama in?”

#Les Packer x you #Les Packer x reader #Les Packer soa #Les Packer mayans #Les Packer fic

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dallianceangel · 3 months

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𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 🍫🌃

here's another soft happy fic, i hope you enjoy x

🍫 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🍫

You sneak into the kitchen at 1AM, wearing nothing but Happy's SAMCRO shirt, craving something sweet to eat. The club is under lockdown, and snacks are limited.

“What time is it?” Happy mumbles, rubbing at his sleepy eyes as he leans against the door frame.

“Go back to bed, babe,” you whisper in response. “I'm just looking for some snacks.”

He grumbles before walking back to his dorm. Snacks are nowhere to be found, so you follow behind him. It's not until you're fully comfortable that he remembers.

“There's a box of candy underneath the bed.”

You leap into action.

#sons of anarchy #mayans mc #happy lowman #david labrava #soa #fanfiction #drabbles #fanfic #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman fanfiction #happy lowman imagines #sonsofanarchy #soa fanfiction #soa happy #soa imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy imagines

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fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

La Loba

When Tara up and left Charming all those years ago- the town, Jax and the club weren't the only things left behind. She left you, her baby sister.

Words: 5.2K Author's Note: Sons of Anarchy AU. Crossover with Mayans. Trigger Warning for brief mentions of sexual assault.

When Tara left Charming all those years ago, you had only been fifteen. She left you with your drunk of a father, but Jax Teller and his mother Gemma quickly stepped in to look after you. However, when your uncle checked in one day, he didn't like what you had to say about your living situation. So as quick as he could, he managed to get custody of you and whisked you away to Texas.

For years you longed to be back in Charming, calling Jax every weekend you could to hear about what was going on there because, though he and your sister were broken up, you still looked up to him as your big brother. But until you graduated, as you were continuously reminded by your uncle and Jax, there was nothing you could do. So, until you walked the stage and had your high school diploma in hand, you let yourself make some friends and have some fun while you were still young.

Jax, Opie and Gemma made the drive down to Texas to see you walk the stage, and then Gemma told you she already had living arrangements situated for you should you want to return to Charming. You did and you were immediately set up with a job at Teller-Morrow Automotive.

For the following couple of years, you worked your butt off keeping the garage running smoothly while Gemma made herself busy elsewhere. You became close to those within the Sons of Anarchy, keeping their secrets and helping out when asked as if you were a part of the club yourself. And if you asked any of the men, they'd say you were.

But then your sister came back to Charming, ruffling feathers within the club, and making you doubt your place with the Sons.

For as long as you can remember, Clay and Gemma were the parents you wished had been yours. But then they started to make questionable calls and you realized you had to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. It also didn't help that you had Tara whispering nothing but terrible things in your ear, but you did your best to not let her opinion cloud your judgment.

And just when you were coming to terms with everything again, AJ Weston happened.

Fortunately, you weren't sexually assaulted, but you were forced to watch them assault Gemma over and over before taking a beating that left you in the hospital for nearly a week. And through it all, your sister still tried to get you to cut ties with the club. Instead of listening, however, you pulled back into yourself and sought out Happy to teach you how to properly fight.

For a couple of years, you hardened yourself to become numb to anything and everything the club did, doing odd jobs here and there when they needed a face to blend in that wasn't male. You became the club's ace up their sleeve, much to your sister's displeasure, and did your best to stay afloat while Clay and Gemma spiraled out of control.

Life within the club became a clusterfuck- betrayal after betrayal and lie after lie piling up faster than anyone could keep up with. And in the end, several people paid the price. Piney, Bobby, Clay, Juice, Tara and Gemma. All dead.

Then when Jax took up the gavel, he thought for sure you wouldn't want anything to do with the club anymore. But the club had been a part of your life for the longest time and so long as he didn't follow in Clay's or his mother's footsteps, you were more than happy to continue being there for anything the Sons needed.

With Jax as President and Opie as Vice President, things within the charters along the West Coast were shaken up. No one wanted war or petty fights for past grievances, so many bridges were mended. One, most importantly, being that of the bridge between the Sons and the Mayans.

Jax, Opie, and Chibs are hosting a few Mayans when you walk in behind Happy, more than ready to shower and get to work behind the bar. But first, you needed to check in with Jax and with the others, letting them know how the night went. Happy takes a seat, smirking as all eyes fall on you. You figure you must look a sight- hair wavy from the two braids you had it in all day, a Reaper hoodie that's a size too big, ripped jeans and Doc Martens. Your hands grip tight to the straps of the backpack you're wearing, and you offer Jax a nod.

"Hey, sis." Jax slowly smirks. "You good?" You give him another nod. "You win?"

Happy scoffs as if he really needed to ask that, after all he trained you, and all eyes turn towards him. "They tapped her for two matches."

Jax's amusement suddenly clears, worry in his eyes. "Two?" He glances between you and Happy, the rest of the onlookers curious as to what's going on. "Why the fuck did they tap you for two?"

You roll your eyes and slip the straps of the backpack off your shoulders. Holding the bag with one hand, you unzip the bag with the other and pull out a ziplock bag of cash. Abel and Thomas' name is written on it in black sharpie, as well as the very obvious 5K. You toss the money into Jax's lap.

"Holy shit," Opie utters. "What the hell happened?"

You grin and glance at Happy so he can tell the story. "Her first opponent had a glass jaw. One hit and she was out. The crowd wasn't too happy, so the coordinator asked if she'd fight again. Her second opponent was a dude and a little harder to take down, but our girl had a lot of rage tonight. Brought home 15K."

One of the Mayans lowly whistles. "Damn, mami. There an underground fight club we don't know about?"

The Sons all seem to hold their breath as you glance at the Mayan in question, expression going lax as you take him in. He's handsome, really handsome, what with his groomed beard and all. His hair is shaved close to the sides while the top has some length to it. And slowly, but surely, you grin and shrug at him.

"Hey guys, this is my sister-in-law YN," Jax says, introducing you. "YN, this is Bishop, Angel (the one who had spoken to you) and EZ. Creeper's at the bar with Tig." You glance at each men, nodding and grinning in greeting as they give their hellos. "You should clean up before you get behind the bar," Jax then says, easily dismissing you.

"Ribs need to be checked out. Probably wrapped," Happy mentions.

"And that's my cue," Chibs says as he stands, finishing off the last of his beer. "Come on, lass, let's go get ye naked."

You roll your eyes as Happy and Opie laugh, Jax kicking out in hopes of landing a kick to his Scottish brother.

Everyone watches as Chibs leads YN down the hallway towards the dorms and then Jax is grabbing the money to tuck inside his kutte. "Excuse YN," he says. "She doesn't talk."

"Ever?" Angel asks. Bishop and EZ are quick to slap their brother, causing him to flinch and glare at each of them.

The Sons all chuckle.

"She used to be a chatterbox," Jax says, smiling. Slowly the expression melts away. "She got kidnapped alongside Gemma by Zobelle's crew."

"Shit," Bishop swears. "We heard about that."

"Was she.. you know," EZ asks, uncomfortable. Everyone knew what had happened to the ex-president's old lady and the rage that possessed him and her son when they found out. "That why she don't talk?"

"Nah." Opie shakes his head. "They made her watch as they assaulted Gemma though, and then beat her black and blue. Stopped talking after that. She will talk sometimes, but only to those she feels at ease around."

"The physical assault was just the beginning of it all; started closing herself off. But then when Gemma killed Tara.."

"Fuck, bro," Angel exhales in realization. "Your mother killed her sister?"

"Yeah." Jax takes a long pull of his beer. "YN felt deeply betrayed, looked up to my ma like she was her own. When we found out who killed Tara, YN begged me to let her deal with it. I almost didn't, but Unser stuck his nose in my business and put a tail on me. We came up with an alibi for YN and let her deal with Gemma as she saw fit."

"And did she?" Bishop wonders, stroking his salt-n-pepper beard.

Happy smirks. "She did. Took Gemma out the way Gemma took her sister out."

"Which was how?"

Jax gulps, but pushes through the conversation. "By stabbing Gemma repeatedly in the back of the head with a barbecue fork."

"And no one suspected it was her?" Angel asks, awed.

"Nah. She's our fly on the wall. Everyone thinks she's damaged goods and we don't correct them. No one suspects the mute girl to be gathering intel."

Bishop chuckles. "That's actually kind of genius."

The men all get back to drinking, listening to Happy describe YN's fight and the fact that she's not scheduled for another for another three months. She eventually comes back out, a tight long sleeve plaid shirt taking the place of the hoodie she first wore. Tig grabs her attention, introducing her to Creeper who she grins and nods at before serving up a few shots and taking one with the two men.

The following morning, you task the prospects and the lingering croweaters to clean up the clubhouse and have everything set up for a family breakfast before you get back with the food. And since you are the President's sister who has no urge to crawl into the lap of any Son, the croweaters readily get to work without any huffing and puffing.

Nearly half an hour later, you return to the clubhouse with bags of food. The normal round tables have been pushed aside and long rectangular tables have been brought out. Three pots of steaming coffee are sitting atop the bar, stacks of styrofoam cups, milk, creamer, and sugar placed next to them. You set the bags of food on the table, pulling out containers of barbacoa meat, beef and bean tamales that had been wrapped up in foil, a few containers of green hot sauce, a bag of cut up lemons, and a stack of still hot tortillas.

You send the prospects to start knocking on doors and waking the sleeping men before you head towards the refrigerator and pull yourself out two cans of Big Red soda. Then making your way back out to the tables in the middle of the clubhouse, you grab yourself a paper plate and start to serve yourself before the men make it nearly impossible to.

Surprisingly, most of the men are already awake and settle down around the table as you're assembling your tacos. You spread some barbacoa on a tortilla, squeeze a bit of lemon juice on the meat, then open up a bean tamale to lay atop the meat. Then you sprinkle some salt before spooning some greet hot sauce onto it all, bringing two sides of the tortilla together and taking a bite. You hum in appreciation and then crack open a can of soda before taking a sip of it.

As you glance around the table, you see the Mayans all staring at you, amusement clear in their expression.

"Damn, guera, you can throw down, huh?" Creeper muses.

You grin at him, heat flooding your cheeks before you avert your eyes back to your food. Slowly but surely, everyone starts to fill their plates. And when you fill your second taco, adding even more hot sauce than the first time, you happily eat the spicy goodness.

"I have a question," Angel says in between bites of his food. "How does a white girl throw down with barbacoa and hot sauce? None of these white boys will even look at the hot sauce."

Jax laughs. "When YN was fifteen and Tara left for college, their uncle swooped in and took YN to Texas. The uncle's wife is Hispanic and apparently breakfast tacos and Big Red was a staple there. Had it every Sunday morning and now we have it once a week here too."

"Well, if it's a staple down in Texas, now we gotta try it too," Angel says. He glances at you, winking. "Got any more of those sodas, princesa?"

You roll your eyes at the nickname, nodding. Quickly wiping your fingers off on a napkin, you stand up to go grab four more of your sodas for the men to try. And when you make it back to the table, you hand each Mayan a soda since the Sons were all coffee drinkers in the morning.

EZ and Angel like the soda drink, Creeper takes a few sips before deciding he likes it, and Bishop hands his can off to Angel after the first sip. It seems he preferred his coffee as well.

Once breakfast is over and Jax sends Chibs, Tig and Happy to work in the garage, you drag your feet over to the couch where Opie is sitting. There's plenty of space on the couch next to him, but you want a cuddle after stuffing yourself full of food. So as the men are talking, you crawl into his lap without a word, curling up there and hiding your face in the side of his neck. He merely lifts his arm to position it behind your back, used to this behavior by now.

"She good?" You hear someone ask.

You grin against Opie's neck and raise a hand, giving the room a thumb's up. He chuckles as he rubs your back. "She's fine. She likes to curl up on any available lap after eating so much."

"My lap was empty too, cariña. You could have-"

The sound of a slap resonates around the room which sends the men into a round of laughter, and when you pick your head up enough to see what's going on, Bishop is shaking his head at Angel who's rubbing the back of his head with a very disgruntled expression. You huff a laugh and go back to dozing on Opie.

The men continue to talk shop as Opie lulls you back to sleep, but then the shouting of a prospect makes you jerk back into consciousness. "Ope! Old Lady incoming."

The Mayans all fidget in their seats as a petite blonde marches into the clubhouse, heading straight towards your small group.

"Uhh.. should the girl be-"

Bishop's words trail off as Lyla comes up to Opie's side, leaning over you to press a kiss to her husband's mouth. You squirm in his lap, turning your head just enough to pucker your lips at Lyla. She laughs. "One of these days I'm actually going to kiss you and then what?" You shrug and wiggle your eyebrows. "I'll get you to finally take up our offer on that threesome sooner or later."

Your nose wrinkles and you immediately climb out of Opie's lap, scowling at her as you curl up on the opposite side of the couch. Lyla laughs and claims her husband's lap for herself as he says, "Come on, Ly. We all know white boys don't do it for SAMCRO's princess."

You narrow your eyes as Opie and Jax chuckle, chuckles turning into full blown laughter as Angel asks, "Yeah? That mean I'm still in the running then?"

"Jesus Christ," EZ mumbles, rubbing the space between his brows.

As you glance at Angel, you can't help the heating of your cheeks as he slowly smirks at you.

Lyla giggles as you blush under the stare of the Mayan and she reaches over to wrap her hand around your ankle. "I'm in a shopping mood. What do you say you go shower and we'll get out of the club's hair for a bit?"

You smile at her, grateful for the escape. But before you can get up, Jax says, "You'll need an escort. We're in good standing with everyone, but it'll give me some peace of mind."

"Don't send Tig. Or Happy," Lyla says.

"You can take EZ," Bishop speaks up, gesturing to the man in question. EZ looks so startled at being volunteered for protection detail that Creeper and Angel burst into laughter.

Glancing at EZ, you gauge his reaction to make sure he's okay with going. And when he catches you trying to size him up, he relaxes and nods. "I, uh, it's fine. Just as long as I don't have to hold anyone's purse."

His brothers continue to snicker as you flash him a grin, shaking your head in amusement. As you pass him, you squeeze his shoulder in thanks and then disappear down the hallway that leads to your dorm.

It takes you just about twenty minutes to shower and change into something suitable for the public, and then you're tossing your wallet, phone, and ID into a mini backpack that you readily strap to your back. You put on some sunglasses to shield your eyes from the intense brightness you know that awaits you outside the building, and then walk back out to the front. Clapping your hands, you grab Lyla and EZ's attention.

Jax, Bishop and Angel call out for the three of you to be careful, and then Lyla is telling EZ that you'll be driving over to Lodi since that was the only place close enough to do some decent shopping. He follows behind you and Lyla on his bike, and thankfully the drive is very short.

EZ eyes the boutique Lyla parks in front of with a critical eye and you grin at him. You were pretty sure he was expecting a mall with several stops at various clothing stores, but you and Lyla had a specific place where you did all your shopping. The owner was kind and courteous, and even pulled aside items she thought you and Lyla would like to try on, on days like today.

Walking into the spacious back room, you slip off your backpack and let it fall onto the couch that's there. EZ hesitantly takes a seat, and you smile at him, nodding that it's okay. The owner reappears within a couple of minutes, dragging two racks of clothing along with her. She tells you that she's got some shoes and accessories in as well, and Lyla tells her to bring anything and everything that she thinks they'll like. And when the owner warily glances at EZ, Lyla waves off her concern and tells her that Jax is just being a little protective this morning. She laughs and then leaves to bring back even more items.

As you go through one rack, you hear Lyla explaining to EZ that this is the only place you'll be shopping and that you'll grab lunch afterwards. And once you have a few items you want to try on in hand, you walk over to a smaller room and pull the curtain behind you so you can change in private. You and Lyla usually changed out in the open, but with EZ there you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

The first outfit you try on are black faux leather pants that cling like a second skin, a white crop top that has two thin straps crisscrossing over your abdomen, and a cropped leather jacket. You walk out from behind the curtain and head straight for the small dais in front of a mirror, turning this way and that way to see whether or not you like it.

Lyla steps out from behind her curtain in her own outfit- a dress that leaves little to the imagination- and immediately, she says, "Yes! You're getting that outfit." You chuckle at her and then wiggle your foot for her to realize you need shoes. Her lips purse as she looks at the rack of shoes and then practically lunges for a pair of peep toe stilettos.

Shaking your head in amusement, you sit down to slip the shoes on the walk back to the dais.

"How do you girls even walk in shoes like that?" EZ asks. "I'd probably break a bone. Or three."

You meet his gaze in the mirror, smirking.

"Lots and lots of practice," Lyla answers for the both of you.

For the next hour, EZ endures outfit change after outfit change. He can't seem to comprehend how many items of clothing you and Lyla have tossed into your buy pile, but he doesn't utter a peep.

The last outfit in your pile is a pair of dark washed jean shorts, a black distressed tank top with the phases of the moon on the front of it, and a thin cream-colored cardigan whose hem falls just past your butt. When you walk out, you immediately head for a pair of dark gray suede ankle booties and zip them on before showing Lyla the final product.

"Yes."

When you glance at EZ, you catch him staring at your thigh. More specifically, the tattoo that nearly takes up your entire thigh of a howling wolf head and the full moon right behind it. "That's some detailed ink you got there."

You glance at Lyla and she smirks at you, nodding- encouraging you to finally speak. When Jax told the Mayans you were mute, he wasn't lying. He just failed to mention that it is selective mutism and you could speak when you were comfortable enough. And after spending these last couple of hours with EZ and Lyla, you've become comfortable. "La loba."

EZ's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, meeting your gaze as you offer him a small smile. "She-wolf?" He asks.

You subtly gulp. "It's what they.. call me in the ring."

"She's a vicious little thing when fighting," Lyla says. "It's brutal and fucking fantastic."

"Yeah?" The surprise slowly vacates his expression, and then he grins. "I'm gonna have to see you in action one of these days."

"My next match is still a few months away, but I'll let you know when and where it takes place."

"I'd like that."

You and Lyla end up with more bags than the two of you can carry, and EZ laughs as he helps the two of you load up your purchases. You treat the two of them to lunch, choosing a Mexican place since you were craving a quesadilla with some chips and salsa. You and Lyla each had a margarita, and EZ made the two of you wear sombreros so he could snap a picture of it. You asked him to send you the picture, and that was the beginning of yours and EZ's very platonic texting relationship since he was already in a relationship himself.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Angel Reyes is sitting outside the clubhouse, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he waits for his baby brother to get his ass outside and tell him what it is they're doing for the day. The day was still young and hot, and he'd rather be anywhere than sitting still under the blistering sun rays.

Finally, EZ walks out of the clubhouse just as the sound of a motorcycle comes up from behind him. Angel turns around after seeing his brother smirk and he's surprised to see the Tacoma Killer rolling into their lot. But not only that, he apparently has SAMCRO's princess perched on the seat behind him, looking completely at ease on the bike.

Angel stands as EZ comes up behind him, whistling lowly as he pushes his sunglasses up to rest atop his head. "You knew she was coming?"

"Yeah. She's got a match tonight in the next town over. I think Bishop's thinking about putting some cash down on her."

. .

The clubhouse doors bang open just as you and Happy climb off the bike, and Bishop walks down the steps. ¡Chiquitita!" You smile at him as he heads straight for you. "Are you feeling good about the fight tonight?"

You nod and readily hug the man as his arms spread wide. Glancing over his shoulder, you can't help but huff a laugh at EZ and Angel's surprised expressions.

"Did some research into her opponent," Happy says as you step back to stand by his side. "She has a decent record, but YN's is better. And she's in a good mood today so Jax is putting money down on her."

"Good, good." Bishop turns around, taking in the Reyes brothers. "I'm giving you five thousand. Bet it all on YN."

. .

Angel and EZ are anxiously waiting in the front row, taking in the cage in front of them. It looks almost professional, but the sketchy individuals all around them say otherwise. Happy had directed them where to place their bets and then settled them down in a specific spot. It was going to be a bit longer before YN fought.

When the matches get underway, EZ and Angel get to witness two men's matches and one female, letting the atmosphere get the best of them and carry them away. They're shouting and cheering and enjoying every bit of violence.

"I can't believe we never knew about this, 'mano," Angel says, taking a sip of his beer. "We could have been making bank."

EZ snorts. "I don't know about that. It's too risky. Bishop is only putting down money because of a Son's word. You think he's gonna be happy if YN loses tonight?"

Angel opens his mouth to retort, but the ring announcer steps into the cage once more. He introduces one female- a blonde with her hair done up in a french braid that hangs down her back. She's around 5'8, slightly ripped, and expression lax as she hops from foot to foot in her corner of the cage as the crowd cheers for her.

As the ring announcer introduces La loba, he's surprised at the crowd's instantaneous reaction. Even more so when EZ stands and bangs his hand on the cage. The woman that steps into the cage is wearing a small silk robe with a hood covering her head, but it's open in the front so he can see the sports bra, black spandex shorts, and the tattoo of a howling wolf on her thigh. La loba. She wolf.

As she pushes the hood off and stares at her opponent, Angel swears as he sees YN. "Fuck. You knew?" He then asks his brother, seeing how excited he is.

When EZ settles down, he nods. "Yeah. Apparently, she's a vicious little thing in the ring. Lyla said it's a sight to behold."

When the fight starts, Angel seems to hold his breath as YN and her opponent bump their taped fists together. Then like a switch was flipped, both women go on the attack. Fists fly out- aimed at the head, ribs and abdomen. Forearms deflect the hits, but some are not quick enough. YN clips her opponent on the chin, briefly dazing her, and that's all the opening she needs. YN goes on the attack immediately, fists throwing punches in a flurry before she grasps onto the girl's neck. As she pulls her down until she's hunched, YN quickly drives her knee into her opponent's abdomen and chest over and over.

A bell dings and a ref throws himself between the two women before sending them to opposite corners. The crowd and EZ go wild, and Happy smugly saunters into the ring to give YN some water and to wipe her down.

"Holy shit."

"I know," EZ agrees. "That was just one round. Can you imagine the next?"

The second round is just as vicious as the first, but YN gets severely pissed off when she drops her guard and takes a hit to the face right before the bell rings. The Reyes brothers sharply suck in some air at the look YN gives her opponent, thanking their lucky stars that they're not the one in the ring with her. Again, Happy cleans up YN, taking care to clean up the small cut at YN's eyebrow and telling her something while she glares across the ring.

Then in the third round, YN lets her opponent tire herself out before delivering an uppercut to the underside of the woman's chin. It's lights out for her.

The crowd goes absolutely wild as Happy rushes into the cage, lifting YN so she's settled on one of his shoulders in victory.

The ring announcer goes through the motions of announcing the victor before reminding everyone where to collect their winnings, and then the Reyes brothers are pushing through the crowd to get to Happy and YN.

When the Reyes brothers are led to a small room, they walk in to find Happy tending to YN's cut. Her eyes meet theirs and she flashes them a smile, beckoning them further in.

"Damn, querida," Angel muses. "That was one hell of a fight. Who knew you could throw down like that."

You smirk at him. "The she-wolf title should have tipped you off, guapo."

Angel's jaw drops open, and Happy and EZ snort. "You- you talk?"

"Selective mutism, 'mano." EZ nudges his brother's shoulder. "She can talk when she feels comfortable."

"Which is mostly when there's not a lot of people around and she knows you," Happy says. "Social anxiety sucks."

You roll your eyes as Happy puts a butterfly bandage over your cut and then you turn around to get dressed. You pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top that EZ remembers you buying from that shopping trip months ago, and then slip your feet into a pair of boots. Happy hands you a leather jacket before dropping the strap of your duffel bag over your head.

"So, who's gonna let me ride with them back to the clubhouse? Bishop's throwing a party and I need a drink or three before we roll out back to Charming tomorrow afternoon."

"You can ride me- I mean with me, querida." Angel smirks.

You snort as Happy and EZ roll their eyes, knowing full well Angel messed up that line on purpose. You glance at Happy, questioning whether or not he's okay with that, and he shrugs. "You're a grown woman, hermanita. You can ride whoever you want."

This time it's your turn to roll your eyes as the Reyes brothers laugh. Then throwing caution to the wind, you grab Angel's wrist and drag him out of the room.

"Should I be worried about that?" EZ asks, chuckling.

"For your brother? Maybe." Happy shrugs. "YN is a whole lot of woman and I'm not sure Angel's prepared for that. You saw how shocked he was when she spoke to him for the first time."

"True."

"Though she won't speak when there's a large crowd around, she will drink so long as she's surrounded by someone she trusts. She's got me, you, and now your brother. He's about to realize what he's just signed up for the moment she downs a fifth shot."

EZ laughs. "Then let's get out of here. I wanna see Angel panic over a girl for once."

guera - white girl princesa - princess cariña - darling guapo - handsome

#soa gen fic x reader #mayans gen fic x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #sons of anarchy #soa #mayans #mayans mc #jax teller #opie winston #lyla wintson #happy lowman #angel reyes #ez reyes #bishop losa #sons of anarchy fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans fanfiction

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ravennaortiz · 2 months

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Story 4 Bishop/Chibs

Summary: Part of the Three: The Magic Number Series. Reader x 2 of the Sons/Mayans. Purely smut. 18+

You arched your back, a moaning mess, as Bishops tongue flicked against your clit. Chibs grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to face him.

His cock was in your face, and you knew what he wanted. You opened your mouth obediently , taking him slowly.

“ Take it .”he growled as he shoved his cock further into your mouth, a wet gag escaping your lips. Your eyes watered as your hips instinctively bucked up into Bishops face. His large hands were digging into your plush thighs, making sure to keep your legs open.

You could feel yet another orgasm building up as the two men used you .Abruptly Bishop pulled away from your pussy, panting heavily, denying you release yet again. You whined, mouth still full of Chib’s thick cock.

"If you wanted to cum you shouldn't have been a brat" chuckled Bishop.

Return to Series Masterlist

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #soa fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #chibs telford #soa smut #mayans smut #bishop losa imagines #bishop losa #bishop x reader #filip chibs telford #3:themagicnumber #3:themagicnumberseries

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sogoodtoheritsvicious · 10 months

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new and improved list

Hi and for the love of God hello 👋🏼 I’m very happy to announce that i’ll be adding the Ted Lasso characters to the list! Feel free to hit up my ask box if you have a request or just want to talk about the boys or any of the shows i’m writing for <3

Requests: Open

Characters i write for:

- Ted Lasso

• Ted Lasso

• Coach Beard

• Roy kent

• Jamie Tartt

• Dani Rojas

• Richard Montlaur

• Sam Obisanya

• Isaac McAdoo

• Thierry Zoreaux

• Jan Maas

• Moe Bumbercatch

• Will Kitman

• Rebecca Welton

• Keeley Jones

- Mayans Mc

• Angel Reyes

• Ez Reyes

• Coco Cruz

• Nestor Oceteva

• Bishop Losa

• Neron “Creeper” Vargas

• Hank Loza

• Michael “Riz” Ariza

• Gilly Lopez

• Miguel Galindo

- Sons of anarchy

• Jax Teller

• Juan “Juice” Ortiz

• Opie Winston

• Happy Lowman

• Filip “Chibs” Telford

• Herman Kozik

• Alexander “Tig” Trager

What i take requests for:

• Headcanons

• Preferences

• Would Includes

• Most likely Tos

• Mood boards/Povs

What i do not 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 on the list

• Toxic relationships - We’re all about healthy, loving relationships in this house!

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happysoldlady · 1 year

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Coney Island Part 2 - Nestor Oceteva

a/n: I'm back! Also, I wish I could tell you what this is but I can't. Y'all said you liked this concept so here's a part two. I'm on a real Nestor kick lately. Mans has got me in a grip. Enjoy!

warnings: NSFW!!, fem! reader, brief mentions of violence/abuse

"Fuck, dulce." Nestor groans, rolling his hips against yours, his fingers buried deep in your hips for leverage. He takes pleasure in the way your face relaxes into ecstasy every time his dick meets that spongy spot inside of you. The way your eyebrows furrow as he pulls out, and the rolling of your eyes to the back of your head as he presses back in, moving a thumb to roll over your clit. He feels your pussy clench around him as you reach to touch any part of him. Your nails find his chest, and he lets out a deep groan as you run them down his skin. He picks up the pace on his strokes, keeping the same tempo on your clit, leaving you a withering mess below him. Moments later, the two of you reach your climax together, Nestor then collapsing onto the bed next to you. His chest rising and falling as he tries to settle his breathing, his eyes finding your profile as you take a minute to breathe, your hands lying idly on your chest, eyes closed in relaxation.

Following the incident last month of the two of you being kidnapped, you had found yourselves making up for lost time in the bedroom (and on the kitchen table, bathroom sink, against the wall in the foyer, ottoman in the living room...wherever, really). It had been probably a year since the two of you had had this much sex. Being busy with work, and oddly disconnected from one another had pushed you to opposite sides of your king-sized bed, not sharing it at all some nights. But for the last few weeks, Nestor seemed eager to get home if not for any other reason than to bury himself in you. And well, who would turn down an orgasm from the man you love? However, should the two of you probably talk things through? Absolutely. Were you going to do it while Nestor is fucking your brains out? Absolutely not.

You peel your eyes open, and turn your head, meeting his dark eyes that beam at you with affection. You find yourself wondering if he's always looked at you that way, and if that look will fade when the post-nut clarity comes.

"Te amo." He mutters, as one of his hands reaches out to brush a piece of hair out of your face. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your head. And then, he's up. He strolls to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You let out a breath, setting up in the bed and pulling a robe around your body. The sex...well, it's great. It's always been great, but sex feels like a band-aid for the disconnect. Nestor comes inside you and then goes off to work while you wait for him to come home and do it again. There is very little conversation...or apologizing.

You hear the shower turn on and let out a breath. A grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you should probably eat something. You slip on a pair of shorts and are digging through the fridge to find ingredients when you hear a rustling outside. Your insides freeze, and you lift your head to look outside your kitchen window. Nothing. You take a breath and shake your head, going back to your search when you hear it again.

“What the fuck?” You mutter under your breath. Taking no chances this time, you scurry back to your bedroom and bang on the bathroom door. “Nestor!!”

The panic in your voice damn near makes him panic. He quickly rinses the suds off his body and turns the water off. He wraps a towel around himself and unlocks the door.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He gives you a once over, noticing the way your chest is heaving up and down in a panic. You slip into the bathroom with him, and shut the door making Nestor’s brows furrow.

“I heard something outside.” You rush out, hushed.

“What was it? Like a person?” He asks, leaning over to open the door to go check.

“No, no, no. Don’t go out there.” You say quickly, grabbing his hand before he can turn the doorknob.

His gaze softens and he raises his eyebrows. “Mi dulce, you know I’m not the type to sit here and wait it out.”

You shake your head, swallowing hard. “I just don’t want them to find us again.”

Nestor grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest. He’s still wet from his shower but you don’t mind. He holds you there for a second and you feel him press a kiss to your head. He knows you’ve been stressed since the incident. He’s watched as you glance around, rushing to the door of your home. He’s seen the panic on your face when you can’t find him at work events. Your newfound hyper-vigilance has not gone unnoticed by him.

“Mi amor, no podemos vivir nuestras vidas con miedo de algo que puede suceder o no.” Nestor says, taking your face into his hands. “I protected you then, and I’ll protect you now. Always.”

A shaky breath escapes past your lips and your eyes dance between his in uncertainty. You open your mouth to reply but his lips come down to your own for a few seconds.

“I’ll get dressed and take a look around. Give me five minutes.” He mumbles against your lips and then disappears before you can protest.

Ten minutes later, you are pacing around your living room, biting at your nails. The fear of not knowing if something actually was out there is starting to get the better of you when Nestor slips back inside. He slips his shoes off at the door and then meets your worried gaze.

His gaze meets your and he gives you a small smile. “The coast is clear, mi dulce.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and take a seat on the couch. Nestor’s eyebrows furrow as he watches your head fall into your hands. He crosses the floor and kneels down in front of you, his hands coming up to hold yours.

“I would never let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you?” Nestor questions, his eyes searching yours.

You want to reassure him. Tell him that you’re sleeping well and that you know he would never let anything happen to you. But the look in his eyes when those guys threw you into that van haunts you. He was helpless. And you were helpless. And there was absolutely nothing that he could do to maintain your safety. Especially after they separated the two of you.

Your mouth opens to whisper the lie to him, to tell him that you have faith in him but the words die on your tongue and his face twists in confusion.

“Hey,” Nestor breathes out, moving to sit next to you on the couch. You turn your body to face him, your hands falling to tug on your fingers. “What’s happening in that head of yours?”

You look up at him, your hands gripping onto each other to stop the shaking. “Something already did happen. And we couldn’t do anything.”

Nestor shakes his head. “You are safe now. You were always going to be okay. I would have never let them actually hurt you.”

“They did hurt me.” You whisper, looking away from him. “They did. And you weren’t there. You were in the van. And it’s not your fault and I’m not blaming you because you are just a human being. But I’m afraid, Nestor. All the time.”

Nestor’s heart shatters in his chest. You’ve been together for years, and no it’s not always been the perfect relationship but the love he has for you is deep and unrelenting. Never did he think that fear would be the thing you felt while with him.

He takes your hands gently into his, pressing a kiss to each of them and then meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you then. I tried.”

You shake your head and it’s your turn to take his face into your hands. “No, no, no. You did everything you could and I know that. And I love you for it. And I feel the most safe when I’m here with you. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

His eyebrows are furrowed and he shakes his head. “What else can I do to make you feel safe? More boxing training? Do we need to find a new house?”

The desperateness in Nestor’s voice breaks your heart and you shrug, “Those might help. We can try them.”

He nods at you, his hands grabbing at you and pulling you onto his lap. His arms wrap around your waist and he holds you close to him. The two of you sit like this for a while. Probably too long, but despite your anxiety, you really do feel safest in his arms.

“Do you want to talk about how they hurt you?” Nestor mumbles against your chest after a while. You lean back so you can meet his gaze. His dark eyes are somehow even darker and you lean down to catch his lips with your own.

“Yes. But I don’t want the details to hurt you.” You mumble, using your hands to smooth over his hair.

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about me, mi amor. I want to know.”

So you do. You sit in his lap and tell him everything. The pain, the fear, the shooting. Their greedy hands grabbing at you and making innuendos toward further abuse. The way they kept laughing that Nestor couldn’t help you. By the time you’ve told him everything, you can feel Nestor’s anger buzzing under his skin.

His arms tighten around your waist and he buries his face in your chest. "I should've ripped them limb from limb."

You let out a quiet chuckle and press a kiss to the top of his hair. "And I know you would have if you had known."

Nestor leans his head back against the couch, deep in thought. You trace a finger along his jawline and wait for him to gather his thoughts. Several minutes later, he meets your gaze and you don't recognize the look on his face.

"Do you remember that apartment you lived in when we first met?" He asks, one of his hands coming up to smooth down your hair. You nod, silently wondering where he's going with this.

"I remember the first time you invited me over." He starts, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. "I was so nervous. Worried that this life wasn't going to be what you wanted, and absolutely positive that it wasn't what you deserved. I walked into that apartment and it was in one of the shittiest neighborhoods in Santo Padre and somehow, you had made it nice. The walls painted a green color and plants everywhere. You were wearing these baggy pants with a white shirt and denim button-up thing, and you offered me lemonade." Nestor lets out a laugh at the memory, as if it's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "No one has ever looked at me and thought to offer me lemonade."

You smile, "I just didn't want you to be thirsty."

Nestor's eyes lighten up as he laughs. "You're the most effortlessly thoughtful person that I know." His face grows serious and then he closes his eyes. "I know that this past year has not been easy. And I know that I have driven you to some dark places in your mind and I can never apologize enough."

You wait for him to finish, your fingers running up and down his arm in an attempt to comfort him as he speaks.

"I can't promise you that people like those pieces of shit won't hurt you again, mi amor. I wish I could. I can promise you that I will die trying to stop them." He says seriously, his eyes locked onto yours. "And if you want to leave and get out of this shit, I won't stop you. Hell, after the year we've had I wouldn't blame you."

Your face crumples at his suggestion. You shake your head at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his mouth. Nestor's hands find your waist and squeeze as you deepen the kiss. Your hands tangle into his hair and tug as you resituate yourself on his lap. Nestor lets out a deep groan, and you feel him pressing against you.

You grind down onto him, his lips trailing down your neck, suckling onto the skin there. You're breathless by the time his lips find yours again and he lifts your legs, laying your back down gently on the couch. Your robe falls open and he quickly undoes the tie, his dark eyes trailing over you.

You shrug off the robe and toss it onto the floor, reaching down to remove Nestor's shirt and then his shorts. His lips find yours again and his hand trails up your leg. He revels in the sound you make when his fingers brush over your sex. He removes his lips from yours and trails them down your body. He lines his mouth up to your sex and licks a long stripe up, his tongue focusing on your clit. Your hands find his hair again and you let out a moan. His lips wrap around your clit and he inserts a finger into you. Then another.

"Oh my fuck." You curse, your back arching at his assault. Nestor continues for several minutes, adding another finger which causes you to cry out. The familiar pleasure builds in your lower abdomen and you moan out his name as the pressure snaps.

His fingers fuck you through your orgasm and then he comes up, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on him. You groan, gripping onto his back. You can feel him pressing into your leg and spread your legs further to accommodate him.

"Hmmm, always so thoughtful." He mutters against your lips. You grin and urge him forward. "What is it? What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me." You mumble, tugging lightly on his hair. He growls, and teases his tip at your entrance. One of his hands come up to rest against your throat. He meets your gaze and tightens his grip as he sheathes himself inside you.

"Oh fuck, Nestor." You moan out, your back arching against him. He lifts his hip and thrusts back into you. Hard. The sound that comes from his throat damn near makes you come right then and there.

Nestor sets a quicker pace than usual, never letting up pressure on your throat in a positively delicious way. His eyes stay locked on yours, silently checking in on you as he watches your mouth drop open in pleasure.

"Fuck mi amor, you look so fucking good like this." He grumbles, his mouth coming to make its assault on your ear.

You let out a moan and reach a hand down to your clit. The familiar twinge of pleasure begins to build again and you let out a louder moan.

"That's it, mi dulce. Go ahead and fucking come for me." He coaxes, his hand tightening some on your throat. Your orgasm washes over you in waves and Nestor fucks you through all of them before reaching his high as well.

He pulls out of you slowly, immediately removing his hand from your throat. His eyes meet yours and he presses a kiss to your lips, grinning at the fucked-out look on your face. He settles himself between your legs and rests his head on your bare chest.

Several minutes pass before anyone speaks, but oddly enough, Nestor is the first to break the silence. "I don't want you to think that I'm complaining but you didn't answer my question."

You let out a giggle and shake your head, "There's no one else in the world I want to have near-death experiences with. Let's just maybe get a camera on the front door or something."

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #taylor x mayan series #mayans mc #mayans drabble #mayans imagine #mayans fx #soa imagines #sons of anarchy #mayans #mayans x reader

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the-wandering-lunatic · 2 years

Text

Scars Remain - Pt. 4

Bishop Losa x Female OC, Lex

Mayans & SOA crossover

⚠️ Warnings: domestic violence, abusive relationship, panic attacks, normal canon violence

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

Part Four

Bishop stood, hurling the beer bottle across the room to shatter against the far wall, fury burning through his veins.

Chibs' fist swung out to Bishop, catching him below the eye, knocking him back to the couch. Chibs towered over him. "You should've fuckin called the moment you found out she was my daugh'er! No, instead you decided to fuck her-!"

Bishop rose and clocked Chibs in the jaw, making him stumble backwards.

"The fuck did you let her leave with that son of a bitch in the first place!?" He hollered at Chibs. "This is all on you!" Bishop seethed, shoving at Chibs again. The rest of the Mayans stood, waiting the next move.

"Good!" Tig yelled, clapping as he and Happy stood from their seats at the bar, moving to them. "Get that shit out of your system so you're not trashing shit in front of her like fucking animals!" He motioned between Chibs and Bishop. "You two need to handle your shit right fucking now. Beat the shit out of each other or what have you, but fucking handle it! I'm not having her see any of this! I'm getting her out of here. Call me when you're done!" His eyes wild as he stepped back and jerked the clubhouse door open, slamming it behind him as the chaos erupted.

___

The next thing I knew, a hot plate of eggs and bacon was sat in front of me. I snapped to the present and looked around. Tig and I were at a diner just outside of Santo Padre. How I got here was a blur. My brain a jumbled mess from earlier this morning at the clubhouse.

"You with me, doll?"

My stomach growled loudly and I slowly lifted a piece of bacon from the plate. My hand trembling.

"Well, ya got an appetite, so that's a start."

I glanced up at him, his ice blue eyes warily watching me.

I devoured the plate in front of me in silence. My only focus right now on staunching the hunger. I leaned back, placing the fork on the empty plate. The fog began to clear from my mind. My thoughts slowing as I processed this morning's events.

Happy...

My father...

Finally coming clean with everyone...

Bishop...

"He wants nothing to do with me now..." I whispered, staring at the now empty plate. "He wouldn't even look at me.."

Tig sighed, taking a gulp of coffee. "If that's the case, then I'll kill him myself...if Chibs hasn't already." He sat the mug back down. "But, think about it, sweetheart. You just relived your worst nightmare in front of him." He paused, placing his hand on mine as I gripped the side of the table. "He just heard every horror that fucking bastard did to his girl...that you almost died. He needs a beat to process it all. He's angry - not at you, doll-" he countered, seeing the expression on my face. "-none of that was your fault so stop blaming yourself right now." His voice was strained, trying to real his anger in as he pointed at me. He closed his eyes a moment and drew a deep breath in. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Like I said, it was... a lot to hear. We all want our turn with the prick. We're all angry, but none of it is directed at you. Alright?"

I chewed on my lip, going over everything he'd said. Tig was right. I knew he was. But being able to forgive myself after all this time of thinking everything was my own doing, that I deserved it all... was going to take time.

"I just don't want everyone to look at me with pity. I don't want to see that. I can't-"

"Hey...relax, babe. If they do, then just call Uncle Tigger and I'll set them straight." He smirked across the table at me.

I forced a small smile back at him. It didn't reach my eyes, but it was a step forward.

"We missed you so much, baby girl-"

Tig was cut short by his phone ringing. He glanced at the number and grunted as he stood. "Stay here. I'll be right outside."

I nodded, picking up the still steaming cup of coffee in front of me as I watched him walk out to the lot. Surprisingly, no tears had fallen since I'd been with Tig this morning. I'm not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was I closing off? Becoming numb and compartmentalizing? Or was I finally moving forward and healing?

___

4 months later...

I sat on the rooftop of the clubhouse, the night dark except for the lights from the yard. I'd found this to be my escape when the parties got a little too claustrophobic. My personal vantage point where I could silently observe everyone.

I heard the hatch rattle and soon enough, EZ came to sit next to me.

I took one final drag off my cigarette and shoved the butt into my empty beer bottle, taking the fresh cold one EZ handed me.

"Bishop's looking for you."

I snorted. "He should know where I am by now, E." We clinked bottles "Salud."

He chuckled "He does. He sent me-"

"To come check on me" I finished his sentence, shaking my head. "I love the man, but he can be suffocating at times since..." I trailed off.

It had been 4 months since my worlds collided at the bonfire. Everything tilted after Happy had unexpectedly been at the clubhouse that night. Forcing my dark secrets into the light, resulting in a downward spiral in my head for a few weeks. After my recounting of the abuse and my attempted murder at the hands of Ryan, my father had damn near dragged me from Santo Padre. Bishop and him got into it, each coming away with sore jaws and bruised egos. I'd managed to convince my father to let me stay. I wasn't a child anymore, hadn't been for some time, and we agreed that Charming may not be safe just yet until we knew what or if Ryan would try and do anything. The Mayans were now my family too, and would go to the death for me...and as much as my father hated to admit it, he knew I'd be safest here. At least for a while.

A switch had flipped inside Bishop after that. While he assured me that nothing that had happened to me was my fault, it took a while to shake the thoughts from my head. But Bishop was always there with a comforting presence when my demons would surface.

Bishop was constantly at my side, and when he couldn't be, EZ was tasked as my shadow. I'd hated having a tail at first, but EZ and I quickly developed a sibling type relationship.

EZ sighed. "Yeah, but can you blame him?"

"No, I get it. It just gets too much at times and I need some space is all."

EZ held the bottle up, pausing before taking a drink. "Have you tried telling him that?"

I cocked my head, giving EZ a side glare silently saying 'really?'

He laughed. "Bish isn't the best at being told what to do."

I laughed lightly "Understatement of the decade."

I smiled to myself. As protective and somewhat overbearing as Bishop was at times, it came from a place of deep love, and I was grateful.

EZ and I fell into comfortable silence for a few moments before I took a breath, eyes locked on the small bonfire below. "Will you teach me to fight?"

EZ froze mid sip and lowered his beer as he looked over to me "What?"

I huffed out a breath and faced him. "Teach me to fight...box....spar, whatever you want to call it." I waved the beer bottle.

"No, I heard you. I just... I guess I expected someone would've taught you growing up..."

I looked down at my hands, picking at the label on the bottle "Never had the need.... until I did and I couldn't defend myself. I refuse to let that happen again. No matter what Bishop says or does, he won't be there at all times, and neither will you... I need this, E. Please."

He stared down at the fire for a moment, the flames dancing in his dark eyes before meeting my gaze and giving a small smile. "We'll start tomorrow."

~💀~

Tags:

@shinymoonstarfish @saltyunicorn079 @stitchattacks

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drabbles-mc · 2 years

Text

You Ever Get Nightmares?

Happy Lowman & Daughter!OFC (Diedra Lowman)

Whumptober 2022: No.5 Every Whumpee’s Needs- Running Out Of Air

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, mentions of past trauma/physical assault

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is a day late and a loose interpretation of the prompt, but I was really excited to write for Di again. I’ve had her whole backstory in my head and it was nice to scratch the surface of it a little bit. Plus, it’s nice to see Happy doing the dad thing.

SOA/Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @espieviolet99 @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @anditsmywholeheart @i-just-read-stuff @be-my-dear @bport76 @withmyteeth @unicornucopia-fuckers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @beardsanddetectives @i-love-scott-mccall @queenbeered @gemini0410 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @lakamaa12 @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She jolted awake, gasping for air like her body hadn’t recognized the difference between her reality and the nightmare that she had just been trapped in. She sat upright, immediately bringing her hand up to her throat as though she had to touch it to confirm that there really wasn’t anything there. Her chest was heaving as she tried to swallow, tried to get herself under control again. Her hand shook as she reached to switch on her bedside lamp.

The light cast off from the lamp wasn’t much. It didn’t feel warm or comforting in the moment. Her breaths were shaky as she aggressively kicked the blanket off. The thing wasn’t even that heavy, didn’t trap or create much heat, but it might as well have been made of lead with the way that it felt against her skin.

Bending her legs, she pressed her elbows against her thighs and dropped her face into her hands. Her breaths were shuddered, and she hated how intensely she could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage. All these years later and she was still fucked up. All the things that she had done to be stronger, harder, smarter, colder, and it didn’t even fucking matter. One bad dream and she was just a scared little teenage girl all over again. She hated it.

The second she felt the tears stinging her eyes, she knew that she had to get the hell out of her room. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t the room that was the problem. It wasn’t her bed, wasn’t her apartment, wasn’t even the town—it was just her. But she couldn’t fix that. So, instead, she forced herself off of her mattress. Putting one foot in front of the other, she fought for each step that she took towards her dresser. Her legs felt like they were locked up, stiff in a way that not even her toughest workouts left her. Each breath she took was calculated as she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a flimsy tank top.

She slowly opened her bedroom door, poking her head out into the dark hallway. The entire apartment was pitch black except for the soft pink light coming from the crack at the bottom of her sister’s bedroom door. Walking closer, she was about to knock when she heard the sound of her sister’s laughter on the other side. She waited for another moment, but when she heard the muffled sound of the television and Juice’s laughter too, Diedra immediately crept past the door without interrupting them.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she really expected Dakota to be able to do for her. She loved her younger sister more than anything, but this was one thing that she didn’t think the two of them would ever talk about. Diedra made the decision years ago that she was better off not knowing about it. It’d been a long time since then and she had yet to go back on that decision. She wasn’t going to break that streak tonight because of a nightmare, no matter how real it felt.

She moved quietly across the apartment, grabbing the bare minimum of things as she went along. She shoved her phone and keys into her pockets as she shoved her feet into her boots, not bothering to tie them before slipping out of the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her once she was out.

The house was pitch black when she rolled into the driveway, but she knew that he was home. His bike was there, along with his car. There was no way that he had gone somewhere without either of those. She turned her car off, hesitating for a moment and wondering if it was too late to turn around and head back to her apartment. She didn’t exactly know what she wanted from him, either. He’d get it a little more, maybe, but it wasn’t like the two of them ever talked about it.

She lost any opportunity she had to turn around and bail when lights started to shine through one of the windows. Seconds later, the front door opened, and all she could see was his silhouette in the doorway, shadow against the weak, yellow light coming from inside. She saw the brief shadow of the gun in his hand before he tucked it back into his waistband, realizing that it wasn’t a threat rolling into his driveway in the small hours of the morning, it was just Diedra.

Swinging the car door open, she slowly made her way out. She gently pushed the door shut behind her, feet practically dragging as she walked towards his front door. She didn’t regret it, per se, but it felt much more daunting now than it had when she was frozen on her mattress at home.

Once she was close enough to see it clearly, she saw that his expression wasn’t really conveying much one way or the other. She let out a deep, quiet sigh. “Hey, Dad.”

“What happened?” he cut right to the chase.

She raked her hands back through her hair. “Can I stay here for the night?”

He nodded, not asking anything else as he opened the door a little wider. Diedra slipped underneath his arm and into his house. She dropped her phone and keys on the counter as she made her way through the kitchen and towards the living room. She flicked on the lamp there just seconds before Happy turned off the lights in the front of the house. It wasn’t long after that he materialized, sitting next to her on the couch.

After another minute of silence, Happy repeated himself. “What happened?”

She shook her head, feeling so small, weak, feelings that she worked tirelessly to avoid. “It’s stupid.”

“So? Tell me.”

“You ever get nightmares?” she asked.

He paused, thinking about it for a moment before he shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“About real stuff? Like, flashbacks?”

His brows drew together. “What is it?”

She huffed, shaking her head. It suddenly felt much more difficult to look Happy in the eyes. Which was stupid, and she knew it, because he was the only other person on the face of the planet who knew what was eating away at her. But she also knew the things he’d done, the things he was still doing, and it felt silly to come to him on the brink of a breakdown over things that had happened so long ago.

“Just, uh,” she shrugged, twisting her hands in a vain attempt to hide their shaking, “all the shit that happened with…you know…”

“Say it,” he nodded encouragingly, face still nearly blank.

“Dad—”

“Stop choking that shit down.” He rested his hand in the middle of her back between her shoulder blades. “Say it.”

She buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying to figure out if she was going to pluck up the courage to really talk it out for once, or if she was just going to deflect and try to bail. She took a deep breath. “Sometimes…sometimes I can still, just, feel,” she gestured vaguely in the air before lightly dragging her fingertips down the column of her neck, “like it’s fucking happening…” She laugh she let out was hollow, one that was trying to drown out the urge to cry. “God, it sounds so stupid saying it out loud. It happened so long ago and we’ve both got so much—”

“Hey,” he cut her off, “Don’t do that.” He waited for her to look at him, “Talk to me.”

“It’s not like it happens all the time. But sometimes…sometimes it feels like it’s still happening to me. And I can’t…control it. I can feel myself not being able to breathe and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s that same fucking,” she clenched her fists tight, not even noticing the tears that were on her cheeks now, “crushing feeling. I can fucking feel it, Dad. It hurts even though it’s not happening to me.”

“It did happen.”

“Yea,” she scoffed, wiping at her face, “like almost fifteen years ago.”

“It still happened.” He paused. “You stopped him, though.”

“I never seem to make it that far in my dreams.”

“You remember it?”

She shot him a disbelieving look. “Did you really just fucking ask me—”

“Then say it.”

Her breath got caught in her throat. All the years of the both of them expertly maneuvering around the topic, and now Happy was placing her directly in front of the oncoming train. She wanted to run, but she felt frozen. If there was a guarantee that this would fix her, she’d spill her guts to the goddamn world. But there was no guarantee, and forcing herself to say things that Happy already knew to be true felt nearly impossible.

Her voice, one that was usually so strong and sharp, sounded fragile, “I killed him.”

“Yes you did,” he sounded to matter-of-fact, “He fucked up. You didn’t, though.”

“But I still feel like this.”

“You were fifteen.”

“So?” She shook her head, blinking away the lingering tears. “You’ve done that kind of shit your whole—”

“That’s different.” He shook his head at her. “You’re good, Di.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. You don’t feel it, you try not to act like it, but you’re good.”

She leaned back against the sofa. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling about them as she spoke. “You say that. But I just, I look at myself, then I look at Kota, and…I don’t know…”

“You’re not like your sister,” Happy shook his head, “but you’re still good.”

“Kota never—”

“She never had to,” he didn’t let her finish the thought. A few beats of silence went by before he asked, “Why didn’t you ever say any of this before?”

“We all deal with our own shit, Dad. And you and I don’t really…you know…we don’t really talk about shit.”

“But you can. I’m here. Always.”

Some of the tension disappeared from her shoulders and she nodded, tears springing into her eyes again. “I know,” she hadn’t meant to whisper but she did. “I guess I just hope that if I don’t talk about it, try not to think about it, that maybe it’ll go away.”

“Has it?”

She managed a tiny chuckle, “Clearly not.” She took a deep breath trying to get herself together, the first deep breath she’d been able to take comfortably all night, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” he draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in so that he could kiss the side of her head, “a lot.”

She smiled her first real smile of the night as she leaned into him, “I love you too. A lot.”

“Do you wanna stay up? Or try to go back to sleep?”

She looked up at him, and she knew for a fact that if she said that she wanted to stay up, that he would spend the rest of the night sitting on the couch with her, awake, most likely in complete silence. Because there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for his daughters. He proved it time and time again. He’d been proving it to Diedra since she was fifteen, and it was one of the few things that had never changed.

“I think I’m gonna try and get some sleep.” She paused. “Can I sleep out here?”

He didn’t even bat an eye as he nodded. “Yea, I’ll grab your pillow from your room.”

“Thank you,” she said as she folded her hands in her lap.

When Happy came back a few minutes later, he had two pillows and two blankets bundled up in his arms. He tossed one of each onto the couch for Diedra, lightly hitting her in the chest with the pillow and getting her to laugh quietly. Then, he walked over to the recliner. Propping the pillow behind his head and draping the blanket over his legs, he pulled the lever on the side that made the footrest kick out. He didn’t say anything as he waited for Diedra to get situated.

“Night,” he said as he reached for the lamp and switching it off.

She sunk down into the comfort of the thick blanket he’d given her, eyes closing as she focused on the reality of the fact that she was safe and sound at Happy’s house. “Night.”

#whumptober2022 #no.5 #running out of air #sons of anarchy #soa #happy lowman #oc #oc diedra #oc diedra lowman #fic #trauma #assault #happy lowman x oc #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #mayans mc

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bullet-prooflove · 11 months

Note

We just roll around beneath these sheets

Les Packer pretty please!!

Young!Les Packer Series - Fallen Star

Les can't get enough of you, the way you feel in his sheets as he makes love to you, the waning afternoon light filtering though the wooden blinds as he kisses you as if his life depends on it, as if yours does to.

Your eyes are on his, your fingers threading in his hair as your back arches meeting his thrusts. You're close, he can feel it in the way you tighten around his cock, your fingertips digging into his tattoos on his shoulders, that pretty flush creeping cross your cheeks.

When you come, he comes with you spilling his release deep inside as your thighs grip his waist drawing him in all the way to the hilt.

In the aftermath he holds you close, his thumb sweeping over the ridged scarring of the brand that has been seared into your skin.

He remembers the first time he saw you, walking into the general store in that sundress, the edges of the brand peeking out across the flat of your shoulders.

"She's one of those Fallen Star girls." Timbers had said to him. "That cult on the outskirts of the forest."

"You mean the hippies?" He'd replyed pulling on his leather gloves.

"Man, you haven't been around long enough to know the shit that they get up to." Timbers tells him.

He knows now, he knows that they don't value their women, that they treat them like a commodity. He knows that they brand them, try to cow them, treat them like livestock. You've been with the cult five years due to your father but they still haven't broken your spirit.

"You can't go back there." He whispers as his fingertips trace across your cheek. "I can't take this anymore. I can't stand the thought of them hurting you."

"They'll come for me if I stay." You say as he trails over the star blazed into your shoulder. "You know they'll kill us both."

#young!lespacker #les packer soa #les packer mayans #les packer x you #les packer x reader #les packer

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magickhajiit · 2 years

Text

Mayan War (Chapter 1)

Rating- Teen and up Audiences

Warning- No warnings apply

Any suggestions for a better title would be appreciated. It's 11pm here and that's all I have in me at this point.