#***we also have shit thank you for reminding me ez***
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avarkriss · 2 years ago
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penname-artist · 2 years ago
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Cars on the Road - Some Thoughts
Saw a bunch of people leaving their thoughts about the trailer sooo I figured I would do the same, I have some stuff that I want to discuss.
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Easily the first thing that hit me about the series upon the drop of its trailer is the QUALITY. They outdid their first film with a television series, that is insane! They look fluid and smooth, their lighting and reflections are amazing, and they truly spare no detail in making every last one of these characters fluid and expressive. Pixar you animation gods, you’ve done it again. 13/10, I hope these animators did not hurt themselves trying to design this series.
Okay okay now I want to talk about the thing that had me most interested. Can we talk about the GHOST CARS please???
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I will not lie to you, this section of these ghost cars coming to life, and dancing with McQueen in this big room is just, the coolest shit here, I am so psyched for this part of the series. And I’ve got so many questions! Is this Cars haunted mansion, are we going to see elements from the Haunted Mansion ride in Disney put onto this presumed hotel? How did all of these ghost cars come to haunt this place? How did they DIE?
Fanfic wise this could open up a whole new ballgame of things, such as Lightning trying to cope with seeing this after Doc’s passing (if any of you guys have the taste for some strong angst). And on the...*cough* less PG-13 rated side of the spectrum, car possession is now available to be played with as friskily as dared. I’ve already got friends screaming at me not to do it and I legit just might only for shits and giggles. XD
There’s a few things that kinda concern me, too, at least from what we see in the trailer. Here’s just what I’ve asked since I’ve watched it, uh like...like five times-
-Where are so many characters, including and not limited to Mack, Cruz, all the dudes from Rust-eze, all the other racers, and literally anyone from Cars 2??
-Why exactly are Lightning and Mater going on this road trip alone? Is Mack missing because he’s doing something else somewhere? Or Lightning decided that it was going to be a more relaxing and interesting trip if it wasn’t in a trailer the whole time? We know this is Mater’s trip mainly since he’s going to see his sister for her wedding but wouldn’t Lightning want to be the helpful friend and offer a faster ride if they needed it?
(also very important side note, I am so happy that this series is going to be a COMBO and not more Mater’s Tall Tales. Lightning is himself, and he’s being allowed to be kinda open and bubbly and excited to be on this trip with Mater as a team, not just him getting roped into every weird adventure by force and being confused about it. He has a natural desire to actually be here, which is great)
The depiction really reminds me of what they tried to do for Cars 2, but failed at slightly because of the fact that Lightning and Mater were doing separate things and sharing spotlight was getting difficult. But it’s also more than the occasional one-liners that they reduced Mater down to in Cars 3. I hope the balance of the trailer actually does play out into the series, and it’s consistent.
By the way, I combed and combed and combed and at NO POINT did it appear that there was any indicators of the Planes crew being nearby, which has me concerned and rattled. If they aren’t in there after they promised us they would be, I swear to Chrysler I’m gonna make it myself.
(By the way, friends and I are already screaming about the possibility of a season 2 and the chance that rather than going east, they could go west into northern California to an unspecified national park and run into a certain fire and rescue team *intensely waggling eyebrows* We need it so damn bad, Pixar PLEEEEEASE, adopt the late Disneytoon Studio’s orphaned children!!!)
Unorganized additional thoughts:
McQueen having a love of dinosaurs is the fucking cutest thing ever and you cannot tell me otherwise. I will be implementing this into future fics thank you vert much.
Is that monster truck just Cruz? I think that monster truck is just Cruz-
WHY do I have the feeling that the end of this road trip will be met with disaster? We’ve got a clear destination and I have a sinking feeling that when they get there it’s not going to be at all like it was planned.
Okay that’s all we have time for fans and freaks, take care my lovely weirdos, til the morrow, byeeeeee-
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takalzuoom · 3 years ago
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pls write about lavinho from blue lock if possible! anything ((:
Hey! Thank you so much for requesting!
When i tell you I’m foaming at the mouth for this man i mean it 🧍🏻
Not gonna lie I had a bit of trouble writing this since we don't know that much about his personality so please bare with me 😩
but this man shows you off- like
No. Shut it. Idc- he WILL have you on his arm
personally, i like to think that he's hyper all around is really creative
Now that I’m thinking about it, he reminds me of an unofficial theater kid?
…listen- his approach to soccer is to imagine everything, to crate the best style that fits yourself (someone said that Ronaldo and Zlatan both use this approach so)
Extremely passionate about soccer- and you. So what’s the next best thing ? You become his manager!
I mean that's if you two are in a long term relationship already. If not- then. You’ll just be going to his games, para times, scrimmages and tournaments.
:)
Please get this man some shoes, I’m telling you that he will walk anywhere and everywhere barefoot.
:readmore:
and that means his feet are freezing
and what’s better to warm them bad dogs up than with your loving partner!
totally see him staying up late at night watching his highlight reels on YouTube
that also means that he's gonna see some trolls and you're gonna have to fight him- physically fight him- to stop him from commenting about how awesome he is
looks like he impulse shops
will by the ugliest things just to see you recoil will wear said things when mad at you
Make sure he doesn’t know what Tiktok is. Please. I’m begging you
thirst traps, soccer videos, you- that's all of his content. That’s literally it
looks like he goes to McDonalds at 3 am
actually very passionate about food? If you’re not Brazilian then he will make you try food from his country
Will scare the shit out of you when you're in the shower
WILL PRESS THAT UGLY ASS FACE HE MAKES UP AGAINST THE GLASS AND MAKE YOU SLIP AND FALL
Watches parkour unironically
“babe babe c’mere”
“…why”
“get on my back, finna film a tiktok”
It’s the tiktok challenge of the different levels of pushups. But he says he's gonna make it harder with you on his back
D:<
he succeeds- but at what cost
There were a series of 3 videos.
1. The original
2. You on his back
3. Him sleeping on the couch
cuts his hair at 2 am
Never workout with him. Ever.
will make everything a competition
you do 3x15 squats
“Pssh. Ez - ill do 6x30 faster than you”
you run 3 miles?
he’ll run 9
you do a 6 minute plank just to see how far he’ll go?
he’ll do a 12 minute plank, red in the face, shaking like a leaf in the wind with a triumph smirk
Just imagine this- it's a peaceful Sunday morning. Lavinho has his day off, as do you.
The sunlight is spilling through the blinds and the warmth of the sun is hitting you just right. Nuzzling into the covers as you feel his arm encircles your waist
turning around to face your boyfriend with a content sigh, you see this shining face
I LITERALLY HATE HIM STOP
CAN'T TAKE PHOTOS WITH HIM
SHIT PHOTO TAKER AND TAKEE
but when he takes his photos he's suddenly so good???
“babe it's all in the angles”
will call you Brazilian endearments
will teach you Brazilian through picture books. His soccer philosophy spills into his daily life
looks like he likes bowling 🧍🏻
he has ridiculous metabolism
like you’ve seen this man eat a double bacon cheeseburger, a milkshake and pizza in one sitting and there wasn't even a flap of bloat on him
I want to think that he is more on the right side of the brain than left. So he just gets really creative sometimes?
like he is incredibly good at problem solving and will say the strangest shit that actually makes since
was mistaken for being homeless (yes because of his hair)
famous on hair stylist tiktok
“babe can you get me this?”
“yeah of course”
*pulls out vbucks*
Is the kid in class that always yells out the answers / annoys the teacher but is also the teachers favorite at the same time?
FARTS IN BED AND HOLDS YOU HOSTAGE UNDER THE COVERS
*wear what you like i know how to fight*
VERY invested in nature documentaries
Aw shit we going into fancy mode”
*flips down hair*
But i also see him keeping his hair the way it is and would just glare at anyone who gives him a look
He mediates
Has a whole group of white moms with him
HE TAKES GYM SERIOUSLY KEKEKE
“Crocs sports mode”
i may have gone a bit overboard
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mayansmcsblog · 3 years ago
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Her world or mine
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I have no idea when i wrote this but i found it in my drafts half done so i finished it and- yh that's about it😅
This was meant to be based upon the song her world or mine but i got off track so its only loosely based upon it.
word count: 3640
Enjoy!
He hasn't used the truck for weeks, he had no reason to anymore, being in it only brought back memories of you. The long drives, the short drives too. The way you would hold his hand while he was driving or how you would remind him to pay attention to the road when he looked in your direction for too long. All the memories were fresh within his mind- almost as if it was yesterday. 
Even now, he was only sitting in it, he had to do the beer run and obviously that couldn't be done on a bike, he had to take the truck, but all he could think about was how you used to sit in the passenger seat beside him. He could see it in his mind so vividly, if he didn’t know you had moved on he would swear you were sitting with him. 
Looking at the dash his gaze caught the Polaroid photo that was still in its place next to the radio. Your face accompanied a smile whilst his had his usual ‘tough’ man expression, but if you looked close enough, you would be able to see a small smile placed upon his lips. You took it at one of the infamous Mayans parties, he remembered how it took you around 10 minutes to ‘convince’ him to take it, he wanted to take it from the moment you suggested it but he wondered how far you would go to get him to do it
-
“Please” you had been begging him for the last 5 minutes in attempt to get him to take a photo with you but to no avail
“No” you two were sitting on the bench outside the clubhouse, people surrounding the both of you, everyone was involved on their own conversations so neither of you paid any mind to them. Of course he was still aware of his surroundings but was more relaxed than usual
“But come on” you begged
“No y/n” he kept his face as straight as he could but you could slowly see a shadow of a smirk forming upon his lips
“Why?”
“No face no case” he shrugged with a slight smirk on his face, clearly that was a lie. Not even 20 minus prior you had taken a photo of all of the club members standing outside of the clubhouse per bishop’s request so he could frame it and hang it somewhere within the clubhouse to show off the members.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you so adamant? “He questioned
“Because” 
“Because what?” standing up he motioned for you to do so as well,
“Just because”
“Come on follow me”
Standing up you took this hand as led you away from the party,
“Where are we going?”
“To take this god damn photo”
-
Recalling that night he felt a pain inevitably run across his chest, sure you two were only friends when it was taken but that night was the foundation for building the relationship you two once shared. 
Why had he been so stupid to let you go?
He knew he would have to drive past your place to get to the brewery, it was inevitable really. There was no other way unless he was going to drive an extra 30 minutes, which he didn't have time for.
when he reached the turn in to your street he slowed down a little, looking at your house from a distance he could see a car he didn’t recognize in the driveway. As he got closer he could see two people on the porch, he immediately recognized you accompanied by some guy. 
Of course you had someone else.
-----
Sitting on the couch you couldn't help but let your mind drift back to him, you missed his smile, you missed the way he would have a running commentary while watching anything on the TV, you missed how he would hold you after a long day, you missed everything about him.
“You’re thinking about him again, aren't you?” 
You did nothing but hum in response
Your brother had elected to stay with you for a few weeks while he was on a business trip for some type of expansion for the company he worked for. Originally it was a good idea, it kept you mind off Ez, but the more time your brother was here, the more he talked about his wife back home and how he couldn't wait to get back to her just made you think about how you don't have someone in your life to look forward to anymore, you no longer had someone you could tell everything to, someone who would stay by your side, someone you knew would be waiting for you when you were away from home. As much as you loved your brother, you were thankful he was leaving tomorrow
“Im gonna go get a drink” standing up you heard your brother mumble something in response but you elected ignored him and heading to the kitchen.
As you approached the fridge you spotted the picture of you and Ezekiel stuck on the door. You were pretty sure it was Coco who had taken when him, you, Ez and Angel went over the border for a day because none of you had anything to do and for some reason Mexico was the first thing that was suggested. You had been meaning to get rid of it but couldn't bring yourself to. Alot of memories were collected between the four of you, some of them you were just not ready to let go of yet.
By now he was probably already in another relationship so why were you still holding on?
Grabbing a bottle of water you headed outside and sat on the porch steps. You knew there was a party at the clubhouse tonight, Angel had invited you to come, but you knew Ez would be there. 
Did you really want to see a girl all over him while you're still here alone? Because that would definitely happen
Maybe he wouldn't be there? Or maybe he would be too busy doing stuff to even realize you were there 
You were too wrapped up in your own mind to even realize your brother had stepped outside till you heard a creak from the wood behind you 
“Y/n?”
“Yeah” 
“you okay?" He asked sitting beside you
 “yep"
You two sat in silence for a few moments before he started talking once again
“I love you ye? Don’t let that boy ruin you. He lost you by his own fault. You did nothing” he rambled on about how you should have been treated better and how Ez lost the best thing he could ever have. But you knew he was wrong.
Ezekiel always treated you like a queen, your brother met him one time and barely spoke to him for longer than five minutes. As far as you were concerned you brother didn't know anything about him
While he was rambling you were looking into the distance, mainly just looking at the sky but you could have sworn you saw his truck drive past, but maybe you were just seeing things right? His truck wasn't the only one, there were probably millions of them.
-
The party was in full swing, people were everywhere, the room full of patches from all over. mass amounts of people from charters were visiting in celebration of a new deal with the sons, leaving Ez to tend the bar along with some hang rounds.
Wiping down the bar he couldn't help but think about you for the billionth time today. He knew you two broke things off but it didn't mean you had to leave everyone from the club behind as well as him.
"Bro what the hell is wrong with you?" Angel questioned
"Nothing" shrugging his shoulders he dropped the bar rag and turned to get angel a beer from the fridge behind him
"Stop lyin man, what's going on in that head?" Angel knew his own brother better then to believe 'nothing' was going on with him, something was always going on up in Ez's brain, even if he didn't admit it
"I dunno man, I just think it's weird how y/n left us you know?" Ez shrugged again, handing angel a beer
"She didn't leave us. She’s distancing herself. Got a lot of family shit going on right now" he explained, you kept Angel in the loop with everything, after all he was your best friend even before Ez and you got together, if Ez wouldn't tell you something- Angel would.
"Just think it’s weird" Ez repeated, messing with the bar rag once again
"Ya well she’s coming tonight”
Before Ez could respond coco stood next to Angel 
"Who’s comin?"
The brothers looked at each other for a moment before angel came up with an idea 
"Just some random bird for our boy scout to bed"
"My man," Coco chuckled "finally gonna get your dick wet huh?"
----
You knew this was a bad idea, you knew he would be here. 
Was he going to be with another girl? Actually stupid question, of course he would be
Opening your phone you sent angel a text
‘I'm like five minutes out but i swear to God if you abandon me tonight i will hit you so hard that you can't remember anything for a week’
At least he would walk in with you so you weren’t alone right?
---
Angel stood up abruptly in the middle of a conversation he was having
"Where the fuck you going?" Coco questioned, lighting a cigarette from the chair he was sitting in
"Meet a friend"
"A friend huh?"
"Yeah...maybe you'll like her" Angel replied before grabbing his beer and retreating towards the door.
---
Walking through the gate you saw the front of the club littered with patches. Some of them were from different charters. Weird, angel never mentioned other charters visiting, by the look of the outside, you could only imagine the clubhouse itself is packed with people.
Scanning the crowd you spotted the person in question walking towards you
“Hey stupid face”
“good evening stupid head”
“that's basically the same thing i just said” 
"oh shut up i couldn't think of insult fast enough”
Pulling you into a hug you couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed. Angel was always like an older brother to you, an annoying one at that but still a brother.
It had been weeks since you saw him, being back in his company made you feel safe again, almost like a sense of home
He placed a kiss on your temple “We missed you here”
“Yeah, I know” letting him go you looked around, mainly to see if any of the other guys were in sight but also to see if coco was around, expecting to be attacked as per usual. 
Angel took notice of you scanning the crowd “He's inside”
“Hmm? Sorry I got no idea what you're on about”
Pulling you into his side he wrapped an arm around your shoulders “sure ya don't”
Walking inside you scanned the crowd once again, thankfully coco was nowhere to be seen for the moment and most of the guys were spread out around the room. Bishop and Taza were playing pool, Gilly and Creeper were sitting at the table in a conversation whilst hank sat opposite them looking at something on his phone, Ez was tending the bar like usual but this time he was accompanied by some hang rounds.
At least there isn't girls hanging off him yet 
“C'mon let’s get a drink huh” angel lightly shoved you towards the bar playfully.
“No”
“No?” his eyebrows raised playfully
“No and if you try to make me go over there with you i promise i will embarrass you” you laughed 
“Fine”
After he got the drinks you both sat at a table in the corner for a while talking, the majority of the topics were about what had been happening while you were distanced from everyone.
Eventually Coco spotted you two and joined in the conversation. you sat talking to the two of them while everyone else was up to their own things, you didn't mind, the both of them combined made for some very interesting storys, the conversation could never die. After around 10 minutes, Angel had left you two alone saying he “wasn't bout to listen to this shit ''- which was super ironic considering the topic of conversation was about modifications for a new bike coco had brought a few days ago
“How does your bike handle anyway? I heard they are bottom heavy and hard to manoeuvre sometimes” you questioned. overtime Ez had taught you some things about bikes, mainly when he was just rambling about random things not thinking you were really paying attention to what he was saying
“It’s alright i guess, sometimes it slips when I lean too far on corners, other times it tends to not wanna go the way I need to but other than that it handles pretty well, arms hurt like a bitch after long ride though” he explained
Nodding your head you understood where he was coming from, having your arms at that angle for hours must have taken its toll
“Ay '' he nodded his head towards someone behind you, Turning your head you saw it was Ez walking through the door with Angel, seemingly engrossed in some type of conversation they were having.
Despite spotting him earlier you only scanned over his appearance but now you actually took a good look at him, he looked different, not much but still different from before. His hair was in the same style but it little more grown out then usual, his facial hair had grown out a little too. His eyes had bangs underneath them and his face looked drained.
All in all he looked like shit.
“You know he’s not the same without you right?” bringing your attention back to coco you couldn't help but feel like you were to blame, maybe if you fought harder of him you two would have never split.
“You two spoke since?” he questioned
“Nope...I got a few drunk calls saying he was sorry but other than that. No” you shook your head. 
After you two first broke up he called you around a week later rambling about something but since he was slurring his words- you could barely understand anything he was saying. You got about 2 voicemails of him saying he was sorry and how he fucked up but- you never spoke to him, never texted him back when he would ask you if you were coming to one of the parties.
“The amount of times we've had to stop him from drunk calling you is unreal”
Playing with the label on the beer bottle in front of you, you thought about what coco said- clearly Ez had attempted to talk to you at some point, but why? The whole breakup was because he needed “space” to deal with some things so why was he trying to talk to you?
“He wanted space, I gave it to him” you shrugged, slowly peeling off the label
“Didn’t mean you had to leave us too” looking up from the bottle you saw coco was now avoiding your gaze
“Yeah...I know” maybe it was wrong of you to drop everyone, but being around them would have only brought back memories of you and Ez. At the time it seemed like a good idea to distance yourself from all of the guys, but now, despite only being here for a hour, you could tell how much you really missed being around them.
“You know he’s walking over here right?” Dropping your head onto the table you let out a sigh causing coco to laugh “I’ll leave you two alone huh?” lifting your head up you looked at him with a facial expression as if to say ‘don’t leave me’ but he did anyway
“Y/n” his voice was low, almost as if he didn’t believe he was saying your name again
“Ezekiel”
“Can we talk?”
“We are talking” sitting up straight you turned in your seat to look at him. He looked even worse up close- the bags under his eyes were alot darker then they seemed from a distance, they made it appear like he hadn’t slept for days, you couldn’t help but notice he had a bruise slowly forming on top of his right eyebrow.
“What happened there?”
He looked confused for a moment till you pointed to his eyebrow
“Oh I erm…got into a fight.....with a wall” his eyes were trained onto the floor, almost like he was ashamed.
You hummed in response not sure how to respond without laughing 
“So how have you been?” he questions
“Good i guess..how about you?”
“Alright I suppose”
What followed was nothing but silence between the both of you, neither of you knowing what to say. The sounds of other people talking and rock music became almost deafening as the two of you stayed silent
“Well this got really awkward fast” you spoke up causing Ez to laugh a little
“Yeah..yeah it did” he nodded
After a few more moments you stood from your chair “I'm just gonna-”
“Yeah go, i get it go ahead” he finished your sentence for you.
Nodding you quickly made your way outside, the yard was almost empty by now, people had either left for the night or had moved inside.
You spotted Angel sitting on the front steps fiddling with one of the rings on his hand while looking at something in the distance. You sat beside him in silence, neither of you even attempting to make conversation but simply just being trapped within your own minds.
When you and Ez broke up you knew things would change, you knew the two of you probably wouldn't be able to have the same conversations you would before, but you never expected them being so awkward.
Maybe it was just because the wound was still pretty fresh, after all it had only been just over a month
After a few minutes you heard the door behind you open as someone stepped out, seconds later a figure sat next to you, looking over you saw it was coco
“What we doin? havin a lil moment to yourselves” he asked lighting up a cigarette and offering the both of you one
“Yep” Angel responded, taking one and lighting it before looking somewhere in the distance once again. All three of you sat for a few minutes just looking at seemingly nothing in particular.
Maybe it won't be like this forever? At some point there has got to be a time where you can come to the club without feeling awkward because ez’s here.
You heard the clubhouse door open once more behind you and once again, you didn't turn around, but coco did
"Ay man sit" you heard him say as he snapped his fingers at space left beside him to whoever stepped out from the door. It didn't take long for whoever it was to sit down.
Much like he did with you and Angel, Coco offered the person a cigarette which they must of silently declined from the lack of verbal exchange.
There has to be a point when you and the club can all hang out together like before....there has to be a stage where you and Ez can talk like normal people without it being awkward….right?
Seemingly out of no were Coco spoke up, nodding his head towards two stacked benches on the opposite side of the yard "You think i could clear those in one attempt?"
Angel was the first to respond "Absolutely fucking not" he paused for a moment- looking where the benches were stacked "but I'd love to see you try"
"I bet $50 you fail and fall face first" someone spoke up, looking to your left you finally realized who stepped out earlier ..Ezekiel
"Bet, ill prove you wrong" coco stood, taking off his kutte and placing it on the stair rail "you two wanna place any bets?" Coco looked at you and Angel
"Nope, I'm good" you shook your head
"I bet $50 that you don't clear it" Angel responded
"You have no faith pretty boy" coco responded, shaking his head  as he started to walk over to the benches
"This is going to end in a hospital trip" you stated making both Angel and Ez laugh
All three of you watched as coco seemed to examine the height of the two benches, planning the distance he would have to run to gain enough speed to propel himself over them and how he would land the jump
"You think he's gonna snap his nose again?" Ezekiel questioned
"Definitely" both you and Angel replied
All three of you watched as coco began to run towards the benches, from your angle it looked as if he could clear it....you were wrong. 
Seconds later coco was laying face first in the dirt, one leg was on the floor while the other was stuck in a piece of wood on the bench that had broke underneath his weight
"I think i broke my nose" you heard coco exclaimed causing all three of you to laugh. The few people who were still outside drew their attention to the scene and started laughing too when they realized what happened.
"Ill go get some paper towels" you said, still laughing.
Maybe this was a sign nothing had changed between the four of you, that you could all still hang out and do stupid stuff like before
Maybe nothing has to change
-------------
An| hope you enjoyed this fic. Honestly have no idea why or when i started writing this but 🤷🏼‍♀️ . *sorry for any spelling or grammar errors or any parts that don't make sense. only scanned it before posting it*
ALSO- i swear part two to the prank war is coming! Its just talking awhile for me to find a way to describe to things going on as well as being busy with other stuff.
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enamoured-x · 4 years ago
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Sweet Release | Part 3
Angel Reyes x Reader 
Summary: You give Angel a chance and things get serious.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst
Word count: 3.9k
Excerpt: “Angel was in your fucking veins, still coursing through you, still under your skin. He was in your damn blood stream, you were sure the ache of his love went all the way down to your bones and burrowed there.”
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*gif is mine! 
a/n: okay so I lied, this is NOT the final part. Part 4 will be the final part!! Thanks for all the love on this fic! Enjoy!
Part 1 | Part 2
Part 3
Days passed by with no word from Angel and honestly, you were glad for it. You needed some space after what happened that night. You were torn between wanting him again and not wanting to put yourself in a position where he could hurt you. It was exhausting going back and forth with yourself, your heart and head fighting a battle. Needless to say that night only made things more confusing. 
You were just getting home from your shift at work. You were exhausted to say the least but you were glad for the distraction, at least for most of the day. Now you were home and your head was filled with Angel again. And as if the man could read your mind, which sometimes you thought he could, your phone rang. His caller ID lit up the screen and this time you didn’t think to not answer. After your intimate moment at the clubhouse and how everything with him was still unresolved and even more complicated, you decided to answer. 
“Hello?”
“Oh, wasn’t sure you were going to answer...” You bit your lip. You weren’t sure either but you were kind of glad you did. It was nice to hear his voice after a long shift at work even though you had wanted to keep your mind off him. No matter what everything always led back to him. 
“Debated on it.” Is all you said. It was quiet for a few moments and you were about to speak up again when he finally started talking.
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Why?” You had the day off but you weren’t going to tell him that just yet until you knew what he was planning. 
“Can I see you? Maybe grab some lunch and just talk? We don’t have to talk about us if you don’t want to but I just…” He sighed into the phone, “I just miss you and I want to be your friend again. Can we do that, mami? Can we hang out?” You were surprised at his offer. Not wanting to talk about your relationship but instead wanting to build back a friendship. Your heart ached something fierce at the idea. You missed him too. You missed his friendship, his jokes, his easy going personality. You missed just being able to have a conversation with him. Of course it went deeper than that, you both knew that. You two were still in love with each other and he fucked up, but right now he was trying to put in effort. Trying to gain momentum with you again and you couldn’t say no. You couldn’t say no to a second chance, couldn’t say no to trying to fix your relationship. Angel was still a big part of who you were and that was never going to go away. You figured it was time to ease into giving him a chance. 
“Give me a time and place, Reyes.” You swore he was smiling as he let out a breath. You couldn’t help yourself, you were grinning like an idiot too. 
-
Your hands were clammy. Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, you were sure of it. You had just seen Angel a few days ago, yet here you were, a bundle of nerves waiting to see him again like it was the first time. It was a big deal though, saying yes to this. It meant you were leaving the door open for your relationship, giving it another chance to see if you could really make it work. So yeah, you were nervous, if you were being honest you were also terrified. Leaving that door open meant giving Angel the power to hurt you again, to push you away. You knew that, you knew it was a dangerous game yet there you were at the booth at some diner waiting for him. You didn’t think anything of it. You were a few minutes early, just wanting to arrive already and try to calm yourself down. But you were anything but calm and he was five minutes late. 
Your phone rang on the table and your heart dropped. You knew it was him. You knew what was about to happen. You knew he wasn’t coming, you didn’t even have to answer it, but you did anyways. 
“Mami…” You could hear it in his tone right away. Guilt. You can’t say you were surprised. But you were still hurt at what this meant. 
“You can’t make it.” You confirmed for him. You bit your lip to stop the tears in your eyes from falling. You should’ve known. You should’ve known nothing was going to change. It was always going to be the same, wasn’t it? Cancelled plans and embarrassing yourself out in public. You were sick of this game. 
“I’m so fucking sorry, querida. It’s some club shit with some people across–” You don’t let him finish. You didn’t care what it was. He wasn’t coming and that’s all you needed to know. 
“Okay.” You didn’t have anything to say, you didn’t know why you hadn’t hung up on him yet.
“Please. I’m sorry, can we do this tomorrow? I swear I’ll be there.” You shook your head. The waitress was making rounds and you got up before she could check on you. You didn’t need this to become more embarrassing than it already was. You made your way out of the diner. 
“No, I shouldn't have agreed to this in the first place because once again I’m left looking stupid for holding out hope for you.” Before he can talk you speak up again, “bye, Angel,” you hung up the phone. 
It was true. You shouldn’t have said yes to this. Should've thought about how badly it could go. Should’ve thought about all those times he stood you up. But you were so clouded in the idea of being with him again. So caught up in the excitement of possibly starting anew with him and making things work. But you were a damn fool yet again. It was that stupid hope and excitement that had you hanging on to him for so long the first time that you didn’t see how undeserving you were of this kind of treatment. 
“Fucking Angel.” You muttered to yourself as you made your way back home raging like hell but also wishing you could just fucking cry. It's like your body wouldn’t let you, wouldn’t let you waste a single tear on Angel. You didn’t know if you were strong or just stupid for trying to hold it in subconsciously. Either way you knew the dam was going to break soon enough, Angel still held your heart in his hands.
-
You cuddled under the blankets on your couch as you watched some random movie you stumbled upon while channeling surfing. Your empty glass of wine sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You wanted to just unwind after yesterday’s stressful shift and Angel’s actions earlier this afternoon. You were tired of it all. Tired of dealing with this. You just wanted to move on from this back and forth. But you didn’t want to move on from Angel, that was the damn problem. Hell, you knew you didn’t want to move on when you refused to block his number despite the constant phone calls. And you knew you didn’t want to move on when you let him kiss you, when you offered yourself to him. 
You rubbed your temple at the headache beginning to form, it only got worse when you heard rumbling down the street and eventually heard it get closer. Angel. Or Ez but Ez would have told you he was coming over, Angel wouldn’t. The fucking gall of this man to be here after what he did today. You sat up just as the engine died. You took a deep breath, mind running with what you were going to say to him. Hell, what he was going to say to you. You were probably about to hear an ear load of apologies, honestly, it would be an improvement from the lack of concern when he used to cancel on you. The bar was so fucking low at this point. The knock broke you out of your head and you sighed, getting up and walking over to it. You looked down at your attire, sweats and an old t-shirt. You couldn’t be bothered about it, why would you care what you looked like in front of him? Especially now. 
You opened your door and just as suspected, Angel stood before you. His kutte on, underneath his black short sleeve button up. You loved that shirt on him, you couldn't help but think maybe he wore it for you. You pushed that thought away, it didn’t matter. You were pissed. Everything you felt earlier at the diner came rushing back as he stood before you. 
“Can I help you?” You asked, leaning against the door way, arms crossed. If earlier he sounded guilty, then he looked the part now too. Anguish in his eyes, at what he did to you today yet again. A fool, you reminded yourself. You were a fool. 
“I know I fucked up–”
“Which time are we talking about here?” You waited and he sighed. 
“Can I come in?” He gestured behind you. You were fighting with yourself. Don’t let him in, remember what happened when you were alone with him last time. Let him in, you guys need to actually talk this out this time. You chewed on your lip as he stared at you, waiting. You opened the door for him to walk in and closed it shut behind him. Officially trapping you inside with him. Officially ready to talk. You hoped. 
He took off his kutte and set it on the back of the couch and then took a seat, you sat on the other end of the couch, crossing your arms and waiting for him to talk. He looked displeased by the space between you two but only scooted a little closer. 
“I know it doesn’t mean much right now but I’m sorry about today. I wanted to be there so bad but something came up and it was shitty timing.” Shitty timing seemed to be the title of your whole relationship with Angel. No, that wasn’t fair. In the beginning it was good. 
“It’s always something, Angel.” You said, not knowing what he wanted from you right now. Did he want you to forgive him? You didn’t think you could do that. 
“I know, mami. I know. I want you though, fucking need you. I need you to know I want this to work, I want another chance to make it up to you and I know today was supposed to do that but I made it worse.” He did make it worse. 
“What do you want me to say? You’ve done nothing to prove to me that you’re going to do better. If anything, today proved just the opposite.” You stood up, energy coursing through. You couldn’t just sit still, not with all of this on your mind. He stood up too, stepping closer to you. You shook your head at him and he stopped. 
“Fuck, I know. I just…at the party...” He trailed his fingers through his hair, now looking distressed. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now. Did he think coming here to apologize was going to fix everything? That what he did at the party changed anything?
“Sex doesn’t fix everything, Angel.” You snapped at him. He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips now at your words. 
“Really? Weren’t saying that when I had my tongue buried in your pussy.” His words knocked you off your game. How fucking dare he.
“I fucking told you it wasn’t going to change anything, Angel. It doesn’t. All it proves is that you can make me come, anyone can do that though.” You were angry and you were now treading dangerous waters here. 
“Watch yourself, mami. And don’t act like you weren’t fucking begging for it, fingers ain’t doing it for you, huh?” He asked, stepping closer to you. Fuck no. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. But his words turned you on just as much as they pissed you off. You were fighting fire with fire here. 
“Fuck you, Angel.” He laughed and grabbed your hips before you could back away again. You tried to wiggle out of his hold but he only pulled you closer. 
“Look at me.” As if your body and mind were trained to follow his command, you stopped your movements and looked up at him. Those damn eyes. You didn’t know what to feel in the moment. Your head was all over the place. You found yourself welcoming his warm touch and his chest pressed to yours. You also found yourself despising how easily you listened to him. How much you loved him. How much you hated what he was doing to you. 
“Let me make you feel good. Let me make it up to you.” He whispered. His words were enough to push him away from you and finally take a step back. 
“Do you ever fucking listening when I talk? I just told you, sex isn’t going to fix anything. It’s the same shit, Angel. You have to do a lot more to make it up to me than giving me a fucking orgasm.” You were pissed. What did he expect, to make you come again and hope for the best? Nothing was getting resolved here. 
“You’re right. Doesn’t mean you don’t want it though.” He steps forward again, “doesn’t mean you can’t use me to get off.” Now you were confused. Last time he said it was going to kill him, he’s fucking torturing himself now then. It was torturing you. 
“It’s not the same.” You muttered softly. He could make you feel things you’ve never felt before but in the end it didn’t matter because you didn’t have him.
“I know. I want more and I know it’s going to take time. But right now let me help you again.” He took your hips into his hands and you swallowed hard. You didn’t pull away this time. You wanted to cry. You were doing it again, letting yourself have him like this just to be left unsatisfied in the end even after an amazing orgasm. But you couldn’t help yourself. 
Angel was in your fucking veins, still coursing through you, still under your skin. He was in your damn blood stream, you were sure the ache of his love went all the way down to your bones and burrowed there. There was no getting him out so naturally your body gave in, you were made up of him anyways. An extension of him, of his soul. There was no escaping him. 
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, breathing life back into you once more. Your body vibrated at his touch, at his tongue meeting yours. He tasted so fucking sweet, so damn addicting. He moaned into the kiss and then moved you to lay down on the couch as he gently got on top. Your breathing was heavy, at having him on top of you, his body heat encasing you, making you feel at home. 
“Gonna make you feel good with my fingers. I can’t give you–”
“I know.” Sex was off the table still, even for you. It didn’t mean you didn’t desperately want to feel him all over you–inside you. Because you did, you wanted it so fucking bad. But both of you knew you couldn’t give yourself to the other like that again, not until it was certain that it wouldn’t be the last time or it wouldn’t be out of lust and longing. It would be out of pure love and commitment next time that happened. Next time, that phrase was enough to make you realize that you did not want to end things with him. But you knew that, didn't you? That wasn’t the problem, the problem was that you needed reassurance before you could give yourself to him again, even if you were already his. 
“Lift your hips for me, baby.” You did as he said, he pulled down your sweats and panties just enough to get his fingers on you. You moaned at the first touch of him gliding his fingers through your folds. 
“So wet for me already.” He whispered into your ear. You grabbed onto the back of his neck and brought his lips to yours once more. His fingers started to work you over, lips never disconnecting from your own. He rubbed your clit with his thumb as he started to slide two fingers inside you. You whined into his mouth and he pulled away. 
“Feel good?” He asked gently, kissing at your cheek and jaw. You preened at the attention, at the softness and care he was taking with you. 
“Yes.” You breathed out, rolling your hips into his fingers. His warm breath on your neck made you giggle through your moans. He moved his head to look in your eyes and gave you a small smile. 
“Always so ticklish.” He pressed a kiss to your nose. Your heart ached with love, he was being too soft. Too gentle. Too loving. It was only too much because this was just a moment, passing in time, after it was gone there would be no sweet kisses and feather light touches. It hurt too much to think about so you pulled him down by the neck to kiss him again. His fingers filled you up nicely, no where near what you really wanted but much better than your own. He sped up his movements on your clit and started to curl his fingers inside you. You let out a gasp and he sucked at your neck, tongue and teeth meeting your skin. You were getting closer to the edge. It should be a crime how fucking good he was with his fingers alone, it should be a crime how fucking good it felt to have his lips on your neck. He licked at your pulse point and you were pretty sure he could feel your heartbeat on his tongue with the way it was beating. 
“Angel, I’m gonna come.” You cried out, trying to roll your hips faster and harder into his fingers, needing the momentum and the pressure. Needed him to take you over that cliff again. 
“Come around my fingers, mami. Let go for me.” He whispered and rubbed your clit harder, it was just what you needed to finally break free. Your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, pulling you in all different directions. You were drowning again. You didn’t fucking care. You welcomed the wave as it pushed and pulled you against your will, you were not in control, your body was not yours in this moment. Angel’s fingers never let up, working you through your climax. It was never ending as your back arched. Your legs were shaking, clenching around his arm but he made no move to stop. Tears slid down your cheeks as he continued his ministrations. 
You’d never known anything like this before. Angel had the touch of a fucking god, able to bend you to his will and take you wherever he wanted. He wasn’t an angel, no, he was a fucking god. Your god, who worshipped you. Who got down on his knees for you. Who had that magic touch for you. He made you sing sweet fucking melodies of his name, your god. He proved just as much when you felt your second orgasm ripple through you. You cried, grabbing onto him, burying his head in your neck and pressing your face to his to steady yourself as you came for the second time. You were floating, free falling, fucking flying as pleasure coursed through your body. You couldn’t think. All you could do was sob into neck as you chanted his name like a damn prayer. 
He slowed his movements, trying to ease you back into this world before he stopped all together. You were panting, eyes closed as you tried to calm yourself down. Tears were still falling. You weren’t sure if it was from the pleasure or from the situation you were in again. 
You opened your eyes and Angel was there, looking down at you. He placed his lips against your cheeks, kissing away your tears. You squeezed him to you tighter, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting to think about all the other stuff. But this was reality. He brought his fingers up to his lips, you could smell your arousal on them, could see it on them. He sucked them into his mouth all the while keeping your eye. Your breath hitched at the sight, you just had two orgasms and you were greedy for another one. He sucked your slick clean from his fingers before he pressed one more kiss to your lips and leaned back to sit up on the couch. You took a second to take a deep breath before you sat up and pulled your pants up. 
“I know that doesn’t change anything, baby. I know I have a lot of work to do. And I know I hurt you today again. But I swear on my life I’m going to do better, you deserve better. You deserve the world and I want to give it to you.” You closed your eyes at the confession, hoping you were done crying. His words were sincere, you knew they were. And yeah, he was right, another orgasm didn’t change much but right now you could feel how much he wanted to do right by you. It was in the tone of his voice, in the look in his eyes. In the way he touched you tonight. 
“I want that, Angel. I want that so bad but–”
“It’s going to take time. I know. But I can be patient, mami.” You let out a weak laugh at that. 
“You’re the most impatient person I’ve ever met.” You told him, no malice behind your words. Just a bit of teasing. He huffed out a laugh.
“I’d wait forever for you.” Angel was always smooth with his words, always the romantic. But you still felt your heart melt at his confession. 
“Let me make up for today by taking you out tomorrow. I swear to god I’ll be there, I’ll come pick you up myself.” You said you weren’t going to put yourself through this shit again. You said you didn’t want to look stupid again. So what the fuck changed tonight that had you believing he was going to follow through this time? It was just something you felt and you couldn’t shake the feeling. But your guard was still up, your heart still fragile. 
“Angel, tomorrow will be your last chance. If you don’t come, it’s over. For good.” You didn’t feel like it was much of an ultimatum as much as it was common sense. You could only give him so many chances before you had to draw the line somewhere. You were drawing it here.
He nodded his head eagerly, “I swear I’ll be here and I’ll be here everyday after that.”
You could only pray that was true because if he didn’t show tomorrow, you’d have to say goodbye to him forever. 
Taglist:  @starrynite7114 @xladymacbethx @fear-less-write-more @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @glimmerglittergirl @vicmackeybullshxt @miss-nori85 @blessedboo @kalimont83 @ctrlbitch @angelreyesgirl @langiinspirations @lilac-tea-time @melancholymelanin @-im-fantastic- @withmyteeth @isisafrofairy @elektriknachosss @krysiewithak @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @mental-bycatch @smurfflynn @blackmissfrizzle @arination99 @bucky-iss-bae @anactualcaseofthetruth​ @m3ntallygon3​ @montanaraed​ @mrsmarvelous1995 @bellisperennis0​ @akalei349​ @mylittlelonelyappreciation​ @angelreyesgirl89​ @justlikebreathing (if you want to be removed from the taglist for this fic pls let me know!)
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harbouredsoulss · 4 years ago
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Exit Wound
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Authors Note: I need to preface this by saying I am not a medical professional. Have I watched Grey’s Anatomy? Yes. That is where my medical knowledge comes from, which says a lot 😂 Also I was ready to scrap this because ~ anxiety loves telling us we shit at things ~ but I decided against it. I had already written too much to just scrap it!
I really enjoyed writing this, though I did NOT love putting my EZ boy through that but he’s pretty tough so... Here is to my first EZ fic!
Also, quick side note, there is going to be a part two to this! This part was setting it all up for some EZ fluff! Keep an eye out for part 2! If you’d like to be added to my Tag List for any EZ, Mayan or all of my fics just let me know 🥰
I really hope you enjoy this! Please don’t forget to like, comment, & reblog. I would really appreciate it 💞
Part 2 available here !
Masterlist
Ez Reyes x [OC] Amalia 
Word Count: 1.4k 
Warnings: Injured EZ! Mentions of blood. Swearing. 
Summary:  EZ brought a knife to a gun fight. Now Amalia is stuck having to use her nursing skills to save her boyfriends life.
________________________
There are some things that should just never be seen, and this, standing here in the living room, watching the love of your life bleeding out on your couch, was one of them. Amalia knew she had to remain calm, she was the only one who could keep him alive. That and the many pieces of gauze pressed against his stomach. It didn’t stop the pounding of her heart, loud in her ears as she took in her lover before her. His body pale, and clammy. 
All her years of medical training hit her hard and fast. It made her assess the situation clearly and calmly. Though it wouldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts that arrived. Reminding her of how poorly this could end, of whose life was at stake if this all went badly. 
Gilly had pieces of gauze pressed against the wound, keeping steady pressure. Angel was rustling through her linen cupboard, pulling out all the towels Amalia and EZ owned. Coco trailed behind her as she made her way into her closet to grab a first-aid kit. 
“Did you see an exit wound?” She asked looking up at him as she went through the kit making sure everything she needed was there.
Adrenaline coursed through her body as she heard EZ in the living room continuing to moan as Gilly kept pressure on the wound. She tried to think of everything they had in the house at hand that could help, comparing that with what they had already grabbed. Coco looked at her, uncertainty on his face as he took in her question. 
“I didn’t look. Fuck. My bad. We were just trying to get out of there.” 
She gripped the med-kit and stormed passed Coco trying to remain level-headed. She knew it wasn’t his fault. It was no one’s fault. They were all just trying to get out of there alive. The last thing on their mind would have been to assess his wounds. They weren’t doctors. 
Neither are you, you’re just a nurse, she thought bitterly, you can’t do this. He’ll die.
Amalia stopped before the couch, before he could see she had come back into the living room. He was in so much pain, would he even notice? Every second counted but she couldn’t move. Could I really do this? She asked herself. 
Gilly looked up at her, noticing the first-aid kit in her hand. 
Tilting his head towards the kit he asked, “That everything you’ll need?”
I can do this. They believe I can do this. I have to.
“It should be, so long as the bullet and any fragments aren’t stuck inside.”
Angel was back dumping the linen he found on the coffee table beside the couch. He was frantic trying to arrange everything. Placing the med-kit on top she turned towards EZ and took his pulse. It was weak. 
“We need to hurry,” turning back to Angel she begun to give orders, “I need you to lift the top half of his body. I need to make sure there’s an exit wound.”
Angel didn’t even blink, he went towards his injured brother and did as she requested. A wail of pain escaped EZ as he was moved. She tried to keep the cringe from her face as she heard his agony. Leaning forward she did her best to be quick when trying to get a good look at it. It had gone straight through. 
Relief pooled through her body. She could have cried.
“Great, perfect! Okay Angel you can put him down now, slowly, please.”
Gilly’s hands were still on the wound, the gauze oozing red. Quickly she grabbed more, moving his hands she pressed them on top. 
“Coco, I need you to go to the kitchen. There should be a big bottle of hand sanitiser there. The medical grade kind. I need to sterilize my hands.”
She turned back to face EZ whose eyes were half closed, struggling to stay awake. She needed him to stay awake. She needed him to live.
“Angel, get some vodka, whiskey – anything. He needs something for the pain. We don’t have time for any drugs to kick in.”
EZ tried to respond, his voice a mere whisper no one could make out. Angel didn’t wait to hear what he had to say; he had disappeared. Reappearing at the same time as Coco. 
“Yo what’s with all the disinfectant? I couldn’t tell which one you needed so I grabbed a few.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Thanking him, she took one of the bottles and began pouring it all over her hands.  
“The stitches probably won’t stay. The wound is too deep. Staples would probably be better. Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” She groaned, fear settling in the pit of her stomach as she took in the materials, she would be using to seal his wound. 
“You know why,” she looked up, alarmed to hear EZ speaking so clearly, albeit he still sounded out-of-sorts, “you’ve got this baby.”
“Okay.” She whispered, gripping his hand, smiling at him weakly.
Suturing his injuries took time. In the beginning, when she weaved the first bit of material through his flesh, every wince or groan that left his mouth always made her look up in fear. But after a while she trained herself to stop. She knew if she wanted to keep him alive, she needed to work quickly. Angel and Coco kept him stable. Every attempt he made to move was thwarted by his brothers keeping him in position, not that his attempts were intentional. Gilly stood nearby offering his assistance when it came to removing the blood-soaked towels and gauze. She was grateful for his help.
When she was done EZ was asleep breathing slowly and softly. He had passed out towards the end when the final sutures were put into place. There was blood everywhere, on her arms, hands. Amalia was soaked in it. 
Gilly took the needle from her hands and placed it on the table beside her. He smiled at her weakly, offering words of praise at her successful attempt at keeping her lover alive. Angel stepped away from his brother and made his way towards her, hand reaching out to grip her shoulder, squeezing gently. 
“You did good hermana. He’ll be okay.” 
“He’ll be okay,” she repeated, “He’ll be okay.” 
She repeated those words in her mind over and over again, willing herself to keep the tears at bay as exhaustion beat down on her.
 ________________________
It was two hours later when Coco and Gilly left, leaving Amalia with Angel, and EZ who was still passed out on the couch. She had showered and cleaned up as much as she could. She was now kneeled beside EZ, a wash clothing hand and a bucket beside her to clean up the blood caked on his skin. 
“You should get some sleep,” Angel whispered, coming up beside her “I can watch him for a bit.”
“I don’t think I can sleep.”
Amalia looked up at him and tilted her head towards the kitchen, indicating she wanted to talk. The house was quiet now, the sounds of EZ’s voice shrouded with pain gone. Though they still haunted her thoughts. She made her way to the kitchen, leaning against the sink where blood-soaked rags and gauze were dumped in a pile. 
“He’s going to need more pain meds, and antibiotics to avoid infection. I should head to the hospital. See if I can get a script.” She said, voice wavering slightly. The adrenaline was slowly escaping her body leaving her shaky. 
“You could lose your job for that.”
“I don’t have much of a choice Angel, I’m not going to let him be in pain or let him die from infection.”
Her eyes were trained on the blood that had soaked into the material used to stop EZ bleeding. There was so much blood. She looked away, fighting the riot in her stomach. She turned towards Angel who was looking at her nervously. He was worried about her.
“The club has a guy for this stuff. Normally when we’re injured, we go to him but we had no time, EZ would have bled out in the van had we tried to get him there. I can get Coco and Gilly to go out and get some drugs. Ez wouldn’t want you to jeopardise you job.”
She nodded her head. She trusted Angel, the club, their judgement. Sighing, she rubbed her hands against her face, begging the stress to leave her body as she massaged her temples. 
“Okay… I just need him to not die Angel. He’s the love of my life.”
Tag List: @appropriate-writers-name​
Part Two is here
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hihellogoodbyebruh · 4 years ago
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Is She the Reason? - Part 3
Parts: 1, 2
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Nestor Oceteva x Black!Reader
Summary: Angel, Nestor. Nestor, Angel. Girl....what the hell you gon’ do now?
Warning(s): Aaaangst, a fluffly bit, a confrontation, but aaaaaangst. This is the angst series :)
Word count: 2,508
AN: I uh...I did a thing. After this there is only one part of this series left. Comments, questions, and concerns are always welcomed. Okay, bye. Love y’all xo
TAGLIST:   @holland23567 @trulysuccubus @pearlkitten33
You were at the salon getting yourself a downright sickening blowout. You could feel how silky the hair was and you were happy for a change. You didn’t wanna do something so drastic like chopping your hair, but you needed something new. 
“You finessed the hell out of my hair. Thank you so much Shonda.” You smiled at your longtime hair stylist.
“You know I got you, girl.” Shonda smiled back, still running her fingers through the hair and slinging it over your shoulder. She noticed you looking at your phone, “You got a hot date with that fine ass Angel?”
You felt a tug on your heart at the mention of him. “Nope. We aint together anymore and no I don’t want to talk about it.” You got up out of the seat and placed the money she owed plus a tip on the vanity.
“Oh, uh okay. I’ll see you next time!” Shonda called out to you as you practically ran out of the salon to avoid any further questions about you and Angel.
You breathed a sigh of relief at being outside and away from the possible interrogation that would have happened if you stayed there longer. You were ready to casually talk about your breakup with others. You were not over it. 
The familiar smell of delicious Mexican food wafted through your nostrils as you reached your lunch destination for the day. You walked in and saw who you were looking for already at a table.
“Hey Nes.” You greeted the man with a smile that turned into a giggle as he stood up from his seat and pulled you in a big hug, lifting your feet off the ground a little. “Put me down.”
“I’m just happy to see you, mi cielo.” Nestor murmured, letting your feet drop back down to the floor and leading to the table.
“Oh don’t start sweet talking me.” You laughed, taking a seat.
“Ain’t no one sweet talking you. I can if you’d like me too. I see you with the straight silky locs. You trying to impress me?” He teasingly asked as he sat across from you.
“Boy, please.” You scoffed, taking a look at the menu.
“Good. Cause I’m already impressed by you.” He replied in such an earnest tone, it caused her to stop looking at her menu to meet his eyes.
The look in his eyes made her pause. He was staring at you so intently that you were relieved when the server came to get their orders. You had no idea what to say to him. Nestor really was a nice guy. He was fine, secure, and had yet to disappoint you. You’d been relying on him a lot over these last few weeks. He’d kept you company, wiped your tears, and made you laugh. He showed up every time he said he would, but what did that mean? 
It wasn’t until after you two enjoyed a hilarious and delicious lunch together that you felt ready to broach the subject. You two were standing in front of his car saying your goodbyes.
“You’re a great friend and I appreciate you so much. You know that, right Nes?” You asked him, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.
“Of course, cielo.” He responded, his hands on your hips. 
He pulled you in for a hug and you hugged him tight. When you two pulled back, he leaned forward as if to kiss you and you buried your face in his chest. Nestor instead held you tightly again and placed several kisses on your exposed neck. The kisses make you shiver and you pull away again to look at him.
“Nestor..” You begin but get interrupted by his phone going off.
He checked his phone and pulled further away from you. “It’s Miguel. I gotta go, but call me later okay?” He placed a kiss on your forehead and then he was hopping in his car and speeding away to meet Miguel wherever.
You just stood in the same spot he left you, staring at the tail lights of his car until you can’t see them anymore.
xxxxxxxx
The “alliance” between the Mayans and the Galindo Cartel was a precarious situation from the very beginning. Things had grown more tense with the dissolution of Y/N’s relationship with Angel and her blossoming friendship with Nestor. Meetings between the gangs had an added uneasiness with Angel glaring at Nestor and Miguel’s bodyguard not giving him any energy back.
It had been two weeks since the diner and Angel could not get those images out of his head. Angel was waiting for the right opportunity to address Nestor. Where the fuck does Nestor get off having his hands all on you? Yes, Angel knew you were mad at him, but that doesn’t mean he was ready to see you with anyone else especially someone associated with fucking Galindo. He wanted him to stay away from you. 
The opportunity presented itself when Miguel left the meeting with his other guards, leaving Nestor behind to complete a different task. The Mayans had all turned to head back into the clubhouse but Angel stayed behind and walked up on Nestor.
“Aye!” Angel barked out at Nestor’s retreating form as he walked up on him. “What are you doing with Y/N? I saw y’all the other day.”
Nestor turned around and stared at him for a minute before saying, “What the fuck did you say to me?”
“You heard me. Why are you sniffing around her? She’s not gonna be with you. She still loves me.”
“Oh she told you that? Then why aren’t y’all still together huh? Cause y’all aint together right now right? Right?” Nestor asked, staring Angel down. Angelcito would be even more upset to learn Nestor just came from lunch with you, but he wasn’t about to gloat out of respect for you.
“Yeah but-”
“And whose fault is that?”
Angel was silent. He knew it was his fault. He didn’t need to be reminded by the likes of Nestor. As the man went on, Angel found himself getting angrier and angrier. His hands balling into fists.
“So let me get this straight: you fuck some random bitch so Y/N dumps you and now you in my face because you fucked up and lost her?” Nestor stared at Angel and chuckled. How pathetic could he be? The audacity of the Mayan to tell him anything was laughable. “Own your shit, homes. Don’t worry about what I’m doing.”
Angel couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed Nestor by the shirt and pushed him up against the car. “Stay the fuck away from her.” He barked, voice harsh and loud.
The commotion must have gotten someone’s attention because the Mayans poured out of the clubhouse, pulling Angel off Nestor who only laughed and straightened his shirt.
Bishop tried to apologize for Angel but Nestor waved him off, still laughing. “I’ll give him that one. We can chalk it up to emotional distress at his recent loss.” He goes from speaking to Bishop to looking Angel dead in the eyes. “But if you put your hands on me again I’ll blow your brains out and leave your mangled body at your pop’s front door, comprende?”
Nestor was in his car and gone without another word. Angel just watched him go, before turning to look at EZ. EZ could tell from the look on his face that he was planning something and he just hoped it did not backfire and make things even worse.
xxxxxxxx
“Open the fucking door!” You screamed, banging your fist against the locked office door. You couldn’t believe you had gotten played like this. “Whoever is on the other side: EZ, Coco, Gilly, or even Letty when I get out of here I'm gonna hurt you.” You threatened, but the door remained closed.
You had received a text from Chucky asking you to stop by the garage to look over some contracts with him. You had the day off so it was no big deal. When you walked in the office you were not greeted by Chucky but instead a pensive Angel. Obviously this had been a set up. 
“It’s not getting opened until I say the magic word.” Angel explained from the chair he had yet to move from. He was completely relaxed and his sentence just confirmed what you already knew: he set this whole thing up.
“Oh so it’s you I should hurt, then?” You turned around from the door and crossed your arms as you stared at him. “Why would you do this?”
“I needed to see you.”
You scoffed. “Angel tell them to open this door right now.”
“No.”
“No?” You angrily walked to the desk and swiped a paper weight off the desk that you chucked at his chest, hitting him square on the collarbone.
“Ow! Shit.” He groaned, rubbing where the weight hit him. 
“I will throw everything on this desk at you. Let me out.” You threatened once again and he stood up from the seat. He walked around the desk and every step he took, you took one backwards.
He was approaching but you wanted to keep some space between the two of you. It wasn’t until you backed into the door that you realized he was just getting you away from the potential weapons on the desk.
“Okay fine.” You threw your hands up in defeat. “Fine. Let’s talk Angel. What would you like to discuss?”
“Your hair looks nice. You’ve never worn it like that before. You look beautiful.” He complimented.
“Thanks.” You were wound up so tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check.
“I bet Nestor likes it too.”
You narrowed your eyes at the mention of Nestor. “Why are you bringing him up?”
“Just heard you two have been hanging out.” He tried to nonchalantly mention, but you saw right through that.
“I know you’re not jealous. Please fuck right off with that. If you want to talk about Nestor, this conversation ends now.” You were not about to get into a discussion about Nestor with Angel. It wasn’t his business and also you weren’t even sure what was going on. The last time you saw him was at lunch earlier in the week.
Angel was silent for a moment as he debated with himself. “Do you miss me? Cause I miss you.” He asked, staring at you.
“No.” You tried to keep a bored look on your face.
“You really don’t miss me at all, querida? You don’t miss us?” He implored, taking a step closer to you.
It was quiet as you two simply stared at each other. He was waiting for an answer and you were fighting with yourself to keep quiet.
“Of course I miss you, you selfish asshole!” You finally exploded. You missed him every damn day. The situation was hard enough but he made it worse by just not leaving you alone. “Doesn’t mean I want or need to be with you. You don’t understand that I can’t trust you Angel. I refuse to torture myself by being with you and worrying what you’re doing every second of the day.”
“I want to earn your trust back. You tell me what you want me to do and that’s what I’ll do. Starting right now. You want me on my knees? What’s that Temptations song….I aint too proud to beg right? Call me David Ruffin.” Tears filled your eyes as you listened to him. This was the Angel you fell in love with. All earnest good intentions with a side of sarcastic asshole that you found irresistible. “Give me something, Y/N. We can’t just end like this. I can’t accept this. I know it’s my fault, but I can’t let you go.”
“You have to! I just..I can’t Angel. You hurt me so fucking much. I can’t go back. I won’t let you do it again. I won’t.” You began shaking your head as the tears poured down your cheeks. He shattered your heart with his actions and selfishness. You would never put yourself in that position again. And yet, your traitorous heart still yearned for him.
Angel had tears in his eyes as he watched you break down. He took your face in his hands and wiped your tears. “Oh, querida. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated apologies and sweet nothings over and over again as he held you close.
After crying for a moment, you raised your head and looked up at Angel. “Sorry just isn’t enough.”
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make it better. So he did the only thing he could do. The thing he’s been wanting to do for almost two months and he kissed you firmly on the lips.
You froze at first before gripping his kutte tightly as he pinned you to the door. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, and everything you missed about being with you. He kissed you like a man who knew exactly what you liked and he did. You both pushed all of your pent up feelings into that kiss.
He got your legs spread and wrapped around his waist as he pushed you even harder into the wall. You grinded against him as you two continued to explore each other’s mouths.
The pounding on the door broke you two out of the haze of emotionality and lust you’d lost your head in.
“Angel! Get out here! Now.” EZ called out through the door. There was an undercurrent to his voice that made you pause. What was going on?
Angel was content to continue kissing you, but you pushed him away and let your legs hit the floor again. You fixed your hair and wouldn’t look him in the eyes. 
“Y/N…” Angel began, but you ignored him as you opened the now unlocked door.
When you stepped out Angel was right behind you and he bumped into your back as you froze, after seeing who was on the other side of the door.
EZ was the first face you saw and then you noticed Coco towards the back of the room. Behind EZ stood a strange young guy next to a familiar face you hadn’t seen in awhile.
Adelita
You hadn’t seen her since that fateful day. Your blood turned to ice as you looked at her now. Did she know Angel had a woman when they began their affair? Would it have made a difference had she known? You give her a once over, trying to figure out what made her so damn special. What was so good about her that he’d break his promises to you? What made her better than you?
It wasn’t until the other woman shifted in her stance that you noticed the hand she had placed over her stomach….over a slight bump that was only just becoming visible.
You stopped breathing.
Adelita was pregnant.
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starlight-starwrites · 4 years ago
Note
not me taking days to come up with a request 😌💅 lmao may I get some hurt/comfort with Ezra 🥺 maybe he or Reader is injured and the other has to patch them up (and maybe they feel at fault for the other's injury 🥺) thank you, my love 😍 you're the best! 😘💜
Angel
ezra x reader
wc: 2.9k (oops this was supposed to be like 1k...) warnings: some non descriptive violence, swearing, injuries, hurt/comfort, vague and inaccurate medical care, and soft feelings (it ends in fluff i swear it) note: not me taking weeks to answer it 😌 so sorry i took so long to get this out for you!!! but i hope it lives up to the wait? i also couldn’t decide who should be injured and who would feel at fault so i said ~both~ :)
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“Shit, shit.”
You pull Ezra’s arm tighter over your shoulders, but his added weight aggravates your leg. Your limp slows you down, but you aren’t leaving him behind. Not after what he did for you.
“Ezra, c’mon.” You jostle him slightly as you try to stumble further back to the pod, moving as fast as you can. You don’t know if he’s fully conscious. “Please you gotta help me out. I can’t do this on my own.”
He mumbles something into your shoulder, and you don’t quite catch it. But he’s not unconscious. Not yet.
“Fuck,” you cry out. You can see the pod in front of you, it’s so close now. But Ezra still sways into your side, barely able to do more than drag his feet after you. A jolt of pain shoots though your leg, and you collapse onto one knee. “Ezra!” Tears prick at your eyes.
You’re so close. So fucking close.
You can hear shouts behind you, and the fear rises. You had shot one of them, though not fatally, after Ezra had killed two of theirs. You didn’t know how many were left. Not too many, but certainly too many to take on by yourself while injured.
You try to push yourself up with your one good leg, tucking yourself under Ezra’s arm to get him up, but it’s too much. You sob into the cold air, trying to catch your breath. Castomore had a breathable atmosphere so you didn’t need helmets, but the air was thin, and combined with your recent skirmish, you were already feeling lightheaded.
“Ez, please,” you whisper. His head lolls to the side, mouth moving but eyes closed.
You can’t do it. You sink to your knees in the powdered snow, tears already freezing on your face. You lower Ezra slowly to the ground next to you and try not to cry again at the sight of the red stains on his suit. You don’t have a choice anymore. You could hole yourselves up in the pod for a while, maybe try to fix Ezra and yourself up best you can. But it would only delay the inevitable.
You’d be trapped inside, and the miscreants following you would get you eventually, possibly even damage the pod before you could do anything. You couldn’t afford to be trapped here.
Ezra still breathes, talking quietly, though nothing more than nonsense. You drag him behind a fallen tree, hiding him as best you can for now. You sling the thrower off your back, prepping it quickly.
You only have one option now.
Ezra’s face is soaked in sweat despite the cold, and you steel yourself. You wouldn’t let it end like this. You wouldn’t let him die for something that was your fault. His cheek is scratchy under your palm, and you gently brush your thumb along his face. You resolve to tell him. You’d tell him exactly how you felt if you survived this.
Another shout comes, this time closer. You breathe out and look away from the man that lays on the ground, taking up your thrower and balancing it on the stump you hide behind. You turn your head, squint through the scope, waiting for it to come into focus.
Three men. One limping, just like you.
You take another deep breath. Take Aim. Fire.
--
Ezra jolts up with a gasp, nearly knocking into you, and you have to push him back down just to make sure he doesn’t make his wound any worse.
The stim in your hand is quickly tossed away, both hands gently holding him and pressing on his chest.
“Hey,” you say it softly while his eyes dart quickly around your cabin, “just breathe, we’re safe now.”
He glances around, checking your surroundings as if he were still in danger. His heart beats rapidly underneath your palm now, so much faster than the dull thump when he lay unconscious. You breathe a sigh of relief.
“I had to stim you,” you reach up to smooth down his hair, and his panicked eyes meet yours. “Ezra, we’re alright, I just need you to breathe okay? You’re shot full of adrenaline, it’s going to take a moment, just stay with me baby?”
He lets his head fall back on the bunk beneath him, trying to breathe just like you said.
“What?” His voice is nothing more than a rasp, and you carefully check the bandage you pressed to his skin. The bleeding has slowed considerably.
“A stim,” you say it slowly, thinking he didn’t understand you. “I had to bring you back, but now I need you to try and breathe.”
His eyes slipped closed when he smiles, huffing a laugh that quickly turns into a wince.
“Ezra.”
You diligently work on fully patching him up now, wiping up some of the residue from the medpatch you put on him, and securing it nicely with the bandage tape.
“What appears to be my diagnosis, Doctor? Am I to continue on this wretched rock, or will I be sent to float among the stars?”
Even injured as he is, he still finds a way to be melodramatic. Or maybe he’s just cracking a joke at your expense.
You roll your eyes. “You’ll live. Now be quiet while I clean you up.”
Tossing away some of the wipes you used earlier, you tidy up the bunk to turn back to your patient. He smiles, eyes still closed, and you take the moment to admire his features.
He looks like shit.
His skin is pale and lips blue from the cold. His hair is slicked back with sweat and dark circles lie under his eyes. Added with his cut open suit and the patches on his chest and abdomen, he looks lucky to be alive.
You focus on cleaning up the dried blood, inspecting him for any other injuries as you sit on the bunk beside him. His smile slowly fades.
“Does it hurt at all when you breathe?”
He shakes his head, eyes opening. He reaches a hand up over yours and holds it to his chest as he looks to you.
“What happened?” his voice sounds weak. He looks so tired. You’re willing to bet you both do. You needed a week’s worth of rotations just to recover from this expedition. Neither of you were on top of your game—hadn’t been for some time now.
The both of you lost more money and supplies than you made so far, and every chance you got to make up the difference somehow ended in disaster. You sadly stared at his bandages.
“They’re dead,” you whisper. “I got you back here while you were unconscious.”
His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “My angel.”
You look up, see the slight curve to his lips. He’s trying to comfort you.
It’s your turn to close your eyes, hold back the tears you’ve been trying get rid of since the moment you stopped outside, fully believing that was your last stand.
“I’m so sorry, Ez.” Your voice cracks, and that’s when it starts. A silent tear tracks down your cheek, and you shake your head when you feel him squeeze your hand tight. “I’m so sorry, I thought it would be fine, I should have listened to you, I should never have made you come—”
“Hey.” He squeezes tighter and all you think is that you’re relieved he has some strength left. “This ain’t your fault. We went together.” His hand lets go of yours, and he moves to place it on your thigh. “Here I lay, nothing more than a sad—”
“Ow!” you yelp as soon as his hand closes around your leg.
He immediately snatches it away at your cry, startled. He starts to sit up, looking over you truly for the first time. His eyes widen when they see the track of blood that runs down your leg, the torn hole in your trousers.
“You’re hurt.”
He’s shocked by it. You had forgone checking over yourself and instead focused only on the man before you now. The pain had dulled to a constant throb, uncomfortable, but with more pressing matters at hand, able to ignore. His reminder suddenly brings it back.
You shift where you sit, taking your leg away from his reach, and he starts to sit up.
“No, you need to lie down,” you say through gritted teeth. “You shouldn’t be moving, just rest.”
“You are hurt. Let me—” He looks at you more intently now, scanning your body. You’re not sure what he sees. His face morphs into an expression of concern, then anger. “Look at me.”
You don’t move. He’s forced to reach up, and you can tell it strains him. His fingers take your chin, turning your head to the side so he can look at the part of your face you hid from him. He looks murderous.
“They shot you.”
“It was just a graze.”
“They shot you twice.”
You lower your head. Feeling the dull ache in your leg, your cheek. Your arm.
“Three times,” you whisper.
Your jacket is pulled off, revealing the hole in your bicep. It went straight through, seemed to have missed your artery, going through the meat of your upper arm. You were lucky. Incredibly lucky.
Ezra stares at it, breathing raggedly still. He says nothing for once, situating himself so he can sit on the edge just as you do. He should be resting, but you refuse to say anything more. You make sure he is as comfortable as can be, help him bring the field kit closer so he doesn’t have to reach.
He takes care of you silently, efficiently patching up your leg first. His brow is furrowed, eyes focused as he does it. You hate how it makes you feel. You had almost gotten him killed, and now here he was, forced to patch you up too.
The arm is quicker than your leg, and his hands are rough and shaking as he wraps the white cloth around it. He tries not to aggravate it, you know that, but it still hurts when he pulls it tight. You had used most of the pain killers when you worked on him. You would just have to bear it.
His hands still before coming to gently hold your face again, turning it towards him. Your eyes find the white square on his chest, and you think of the hole underneath. You’d almost lost him because of a reckless decision, because you had been foolish and greedy and too tired to care. It was your fault, and you deserved the three wounds you sustained. But he didn’t.
You feel Ezra swipe his thumb over your uninjured cheek, taking a tear with it. “Sweet angel,” he whispers, “don’t you cry for me.”
Your chest shudders when you breathe, and as he carefully wipes the blood from your cheek, you fight to not collapse into him. “I almost got you killed. I could have lost you. And I—” You stop yourself quickly, feeling a pull in your chest again.
You wonder if he remembers how you screamed when he went down, how you yelled and begged for him to stay with you, how you whispered your confession into the frozen air when you feared you wouldn’t make it.
“You’ve done nothing of the sort.” His touch his gentle as he cleans you up, tilts your head so he has better access to the gash that runs from the bridge of your cheekbone to the tip of your ear. He looks so tired and worn, and you want to comfort him. All you can do is bring your hand to his leg, relieved by his proximity and that he’s still here to speak with you. His gaze is fixed on your cheek, thumb still stroking your other, obviously distracted from treating your graze. “It was my fault, birdie. I…”
He trails off, a pained look in his eye as he turns from your cheek to your bandaged leg. You sag where you sit, leaning closer but still hesitate to put any weight on him. “No, Ez, it’s not.”
“I vowed once I would protect you,” he steels himself as he says it, snapping back into action and raising the disinfectant to your cheek. The sting makes you hiss, stopping you from interrupting him. “I may not be much, but if I was ever a man of my word, I was to you.”
He patches you up quietly, and you watch his eyes as they follow the graze along your cheek. You never had the chance to look at yourself, but from what you surmised by the blood flow, it wasn’t too deep. He pointedly fails to meet your gaze, scanning you for anything else while he smooths the bandage at your face, his other hand braced on the bunk by your hip to keep him upright.
He was right. Ezra was many things, but he had never lied to you. And remembering the promise you made to yourself not minutes before, you wouldn’t make a liar of yourself either.
“I love you, Ezra.”
His one hand fumbles with the tape and it falls into your lap.
“I’m afraid these drugs might be a little stronger than I first believed, angel.” His lips quirk up nervously, and his eyes dart between yours. “What did you just say?”
“I love you.”
It feels like such a small thing to say. As though the words don’t really convey exactly what you want them to mean. It’s a true statement, and you’re not afraid to say it finally. No matter how it’s received, it’s true, and you think he at least ought to know it.
It doesn’t stop you from fiddling with seam of your pants however, and you drop your gaze from his when he’s still quiet.
His hand comes back to gently cup your jaw, just under the now-bandaged gash.
“I’m…still not sure I…”
You lean forward at the same time he does, your hand finding the curve of his face. His lips fit nicely to yours, like they were meant to be there. His forehead rests against yours, nose brushing your uninjured cheek, and each of you become the other’s support. Neither of you move for a moment, content to feel the press of each other’s lips, have the knowledge that someone cared for you, and, of course, much too exhausted to do anything else.
He breathes out, lips adjusting over yours before his thumb brushes your cheek. You tense as the touch skirts over the edge of your bandage. Ezra pulls back, and you already mourn the loss of his warmth. You drop your hand from his face to his shoulder, and he grunts at the pressure, the two of you barely able to hold each other upright.
“I must apologize,” he speaks slowly but a soft smile plays on his lips. “As much as I should like to, I cannot in good conscience—” he breathes deep again, a hand over his chest, “nor in good health do anything more.”
You let out an easy laugh, finding it hard to keep your eyes open now that you had to chance to close them.
“Please, angel,” he starts again while letting himself lie back against the bunk, hand taking hold of yours on the way. “Please tell me we’ve at least earned a moment of respite.”
“Yeah, Ez,” you set the kit on the floor, not wanting to deal with anything else now. The man you love is calling you to bed. “We can have a moment.” Or ten, you think.
You shuffle silently in next to him, fitting so the two of you can lay shoulder to shoulder. You turn your head to watch his eyes slip closed, just as he reaches to clasp your hand in his and entwines your fingers over his stomach.
You let him, finding the bunk somehow much more comfortable than it ever was before. Your eyes roam over his face, noting the way his lashes kiss his cheek, the slope of his nose that dips to the curve of his mouth, the patches of scruff along his jaw. His eyelids flutter as he settles, his chest moving with each breath, and you’re grateful to see the life in him.
His head turns to face you, eyes opening just as yours drift closed, too heavy to keep open. You’re safe in your temporary home, nestled into Ezra’s side. No one was left to chase you, the pod is sealed, your wounds bandaged. You breathe easier, reassuring yourself that all is well, just as you feel a finger trace along the side of your face, carefully avoiding your newest scar. Even as you begin to fade, the action makes you smile, and you sigh, focusing in on the small details you still feel.
His thumb caresses yours, the gentle motion lulling you further to sleep. You only feel the hard press of the bunk mat at your back, the press of his shoulder to yours and the touch of his hand. All you hear is the gentle hum of the air regulator and his soft breathing, and just before you drift off, Ezra’s quiet whisper.
“I love you too, angel.”
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kingofkingdom-archive · 4 years ago
Text
Recovery [Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader]
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A/N: Hello all! This is my first Pedro Pascal work and the first to be posted here to this blog. If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to send them my way! As always, please read the tags/warnings, you are responsible for the media you choose to consume. Also posted to AO3 under the same username (kingofkingdom). I did not use “y/n” or anything similar in this story.
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You were taken from your younger sister, Cee, ten years ago. When you answered a distress call from the Green, you didn’t expect to be reunited with her, and you certainly didn’t expect to meet a man like Ezra. 
Warnings: mention of past violence/death, discussion of medical procedure, discussion of disability (amputation/loss of limb), family dynamics, abstract discussion of philosophy, small SW universe cameo :)
Tags: considerable amounts of fluff, size kink, daddy kink, hint of dd/lg, copious use of various pet names, p-in-v sex, some breast play/worship, some dom!ezra & sub!reader
Word count: 9552
You hadn't seen Cee since your mother died. 
Her father had taken her and left you in the care of your aunt, a woman you didn't know, a woman who jumped at the chance to send you off to boarding school on the Ephrate the moment you were old enough. Most of your memories consisted of your host family there, with a younger "sister" who reminded you all too much of the one you had lost. In your mind, Cee was still a toddler, all wispy blonde hair and big blue eyes.
Cee's father had never liked you. You were the evidence of his wife's life before him, and you looked too much like your own deceased father for him to have any affection toward you. It didn't surprise you that he left you behind after your mother died, but at ten that didn't make it hurt any less. 
Since then, ten years had passed. Now, your aunt was gone, and your studies on the Ephrate completed. You'd taken to a rather nomadic lifestyle, catching rides from planet to station to planet and picking up odd jobs here and there. It wasn't much, but you'd become a strong woman in your time on your own, and thoughts of your half-sister plagued you only some nights now.
Jobs you took ranged from helping the lone-wolf prospector on an excavation to ship repairs at major stations across the system. In one of your darker moments, you'd even carried out a hit against some low-level merc who'd pissed off the wrong people. Those people paid well, enough to fill your stomach for a few days and cover a ride far away from that moon. The right circles knew you could hold your own, and that's what mattered.
This particular station was on the outskirts of the system, a rough-and-tumble place frequented only by prospectors and the people that paid them. You'd taken a shift at the bar here a few weeks ago, and knew the locals pretty well. In a spot like this, people could often get more information at your humble establishment than they could from the officials. You were lying low, and you itched to get moving again, like the nomad you were.
Hence why you kept the radio channels on all the time during your shifts, quiet and unobtrusive where you stood at the bar.
You were thankful, looking back, that it had been a quiet afternoon, and that you'd been so vigilant in keeping track of job openings.
"This is Kilo-Romeo 12, calling from Green sector 608. In need of assistance pronto, rapid extraction A.S.A.P."
The voice is faint, but frantic - a masculine growl laced with an edge of panic. Your radio isn't the best, and you don't recognize the prospector's callsign, but you know he must be in deep shit. A call like this from the Green is a death sentence if someone doesn't act quickly.
As with most of your decisions, you act entirely on impulse. As you hit the button to close up the bar's doors, the radio is already in your hands.
"This is Juno B-390, responding to Kilo-Romeo 12. Do you copy?"
You're down the hall by now, rushing to your quarters to collect your meager belongings. Everything fits in a single pack, and you're just pulling your helmet onto your head when the radio crackles to life again.
"I copy, Juno B-390," the relief is evident in his voice, even through the static. "We need extraction and medical care."
Well, that wasn't in the initial signal. "We? How many are with you? And what kind of medical care are we talkin' here?"
"Just me and one other. Deep trauma to the abdomen, I'm afraid."
You swear under your breath. Nothing you can't handle, but this guy's timer's really running out. You grab the necessary supplies and dash to your small pod racer, which is just big enough with its three seats.
"Hang on, Kilo-Romeo. I'll be there as soon as I'm able. You'll need to direct me to your exact location, is that clear?"
There's a moment of silence before his voice echoes through your racer one last time.
"Clear."
-
You descend upon the Green as fast as the forces of physics and gravity allow you to. Sector 608, as it says on your map, is a stretch of deep woods and rolling terrain, nearly unexplored save for the last rush. You slow up as you approach, and call out to the prospector over the radio once again.
"Kilo-Romeo 12, this is Juno B-390. I am approaching your location. Do you copy?"
It's quiet. Much too quiet. You slow the racer even more, as your heart begins to race. Just as you begin to worry that you're too late, the radio awakens.
It's not the man, however, whose voice you hear.
"This is Ez-- I mean, this is Kilo-Romeo's... uh... companion. He's gotten worse."
It's a girl. A young teen, from the sound of it. Your heart clenches, thinking of how scared she must be out there.
"Okay, hey there. It's gonna be okay. Can you tell me what landmarks you see? Help me find you."
"Um, yeah. We're in a clearing, there's another ship right nearby. It's not operational, which is wh-- uh, yeah. Clearing, big ship. Also sort of a gulley nearby."
You're about to respond when she speaks again.
"Please, hurry."
"I will, kid. Just keep him alive."
It takes you longer than you would've liked to find this clearing, but once you do you see a scene that brings more questions than answers. Dead bodies litter the field and a half-blown excavation site sits in ruins. Discretion's always been a virtue of yours, though, so you file the information away in your brain and swiftly land your craft. As soon as you exit, you hear the girl's voice not too far away.
"Here! We're over here!"
You grab the field kit and run over to where she stands over a slumped figure. The man you'd spoken to is now unconscious, and not only does he have a nasty looking wound in his chest, he's missing an arm. You look up at the girl. Her brows are furrowed, eyes like steel. You like her already.
"Go to the racer and grab the stretcher that's behind the passenger seat. We'll have to move him onto that and carry him over."
She nods and runs off. Immediately, you turn to the man and take stock of his injuries. The arm has been gone for at least a little while, so that's not of immediate concern. You set to treating the chest wound, making sure to purge it and his suit of dust. Nasty stuff, that which floats around this planet. His filter is as good as gone, so you quickly connect your own.
You drain the wound with the juice the locals here produce, which is generally in stock in the station's field kits. It smells rank, but it works, and the man below you groans. Good, he's still vocal, at least. It doesn't sound like a lung's been punctured. You set up a highly temporary pocket over his wound and torn suit through which you can patch the injury. You take some foaming antiseptic and apply it to the wound before adhering a sticky bio-bandage over the top of it. 
It'll do for now. He'll need further treatment at the station, but this should keep him alive, at least. 
The girl returns with the stretcher then, and places it next to the man. You glance up at her, and see momentarily a young version of yourself. Eager to help. Eager to make things right. 
You shake your head, collecting your thoughts. "Okay, so I'm going to tilt his body towards me, and you slide the stretcher as far as you can under him. Then we'll let him down on top of it and secure him for travel. Can you do that?"
She nods, and you give her a small smile. You hook one arm around the man's waist, the other supporting his neck and shoulder. 
"On three, okay? One... two... three!"
Quickly, you roll him up onto his remaining arm as she slides the stretcher under him. As gently as possible, you let him back down, and just like that he's mostly on the stretcher. You set to arranging him properly and tying straps down. 
The girl fidgets, and you look up to her.
"Do you know how to stow the back seat in a racer like that?" you ask, and she nods.
"Good, go do it."
She runs off, and is back by the time you've gotten the man secured to the stretcher.
"You take the handles at his feet and I'll take his head. We have to be careful not to tilt him too much, to keep the weight on the stretcher even. Did he suffer any head trauma?"
The girl shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."
You probably should have asked that before moving him onto the stretcher, but then again no one's ever known you for your excellence in trauma care. Your knowledge of first aid comes only from what you've picked up in the field, so sometimes the order of operations gets a bit jumbled. 
Whatever. He'll be okay. You can't let yourself think otherwise.
The girl stoops to grab hold of the handles at his feet. You do the same at his head, and again you count backwards from three.
"Up!"
Together you stand, and twin groans echo from both of you. The girl huffs, clearly struggling a bit under the weight.
"Okay, let's go. Slowly, remember."
You walk backwards, feet taking cautious steps so as to keep the same pace as the young girl. Her face is screwed up in focus and concentration, hands in a vice grip on the handles. 
"You're doing good, kid. Just a bit further."
Before you know it, you've reached the ship. Carefully, you set the stretcher in the racer, and then the two of you slide it in. There's just barely enough room for it. You quickly secure it, and then close the hatch.
The girl is looking at you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You reach out a gloved hand and set it on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. 
"He'll be okay. I promise. Now go get in the passenger seat and I'll get us back up to the station."
She nods, and seems to relax a bit at that. You can't help but wonder what she's been through, out here in this rough, unforgiving environment. "Thank you."
You smile, and sincerely hope that this young girl finds a way to leave this life of prospecting behind. You don't know how she got here, but it's no place for someone so young. You know that all too well.
"Let's go, kid."
-
The trip was pretty quiet save for a single groan from the man in back. The girl glanced back to him when she heard that, and then looked at you, concerned.
"It's okay. He'll be in and out of consciousness until we get to the station. I'll pull up to the emergency med-bay so the doctors can start treating him properly right away."
You look over to her, and she nods.
"Does he have anyone they can contact? Any family?" you ask. "The doctors will need to know."
She shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."
You sigh. "Okay. Well, we'll deal with that when we get there."
It's not long after that you arrive at the med-bay. It's a whirlwind of nurses and questions and forms, most of which you have to leave blank, since you don't know the guy and the girl seems not to know much more. She does, however, give you a name.
"His name's Ezra," she offers, when she sees you pause at the line on the top of the screen.
You look over at her. "Ezra? Spelled E-Z-R-A?"
She nods. "Never told me a last name though."
"That's alright. A first name's enough."
She sits next to you and helps where she can as you fill out the form. Once you're done, you go up to hand the tablet back to the receptionist. You then sit back down next to her, crossing your arms over your flight suit. The girl's fiddling with her fingers, bag tucked between her feet.
"Do you think we'll be able to see him when they're done?" she asks, clearly trying not to sound as worried as she is.
You shrug. "Probably. It might be a while, though. Do you want something to eat while we wait?"
She nods, and when you look over at her, she's smiling. 
As it turns out, it does take a pretty long time for them to complete the operation. It feels like hours that you two are sitting there. You watch the people come and go from the waiting room while the girl writes in some notebook, headphones secure over her ears, absently eating a chocolate bar.
She can't be more than 13 or 14. You think back to when you were that age - in the middle of your time at the Ephrate, moody and angsty like all young teens. It makes you think of Cee. She'd be about that age by now. You look over to the girl sitting next to you, wondering what ever became of your sister. Maybe she's at the Ephrate by now, or perhaps her father has taken her to some peaceful planet with beaches and a nice home, a few pets running around. 
Hopefully a better life than the one you've led. Somewhere far from thrower blasts and gemstones.
This girl seems nice enough, and you're sure she's seen her fair share of shit. It's clear this guy's not only not her father, but that they haven't known each other long at all. You can't help but wonder how they ended up traveling together. 
Images of the clearing littered with bodies flashes in your mind. Something went down there, and it clearly got ugly fast. It's amazing that the girl emerged relatively unscathed. You've seen a fair share of shootouts and fights, and never did you escape completely uninjured. It takes cleverness and a strong sense of self-preservation, the latter of which you don't often have.
You're ruminating on the mystery sitting next to you when the doors to the operating rooms swing open. A nurse steps out and looks at both of you. You stand, and she follows suit.
"He's awake, and asking for you," the nurse says. You nudge the girl slightly with your elbow.
"Go on, go see hi--"
The nurse cuts in. "He's asking for both of you."
Oh. You're surprised. He doesn't even know you, so there's no reason he should be asking to see you. Despite your confusion, you follow behind the girl as she follows the nurse to his room.
The hallways are sterile and white, cleaner than anything you've seen in months. The doorway is the last on the right, and inside is a single bed, with a small window looking out to the stars.
The young girl enters first as the nurse stands to the side, and you hover in the doorway to watch, still not quite feeling entirely welcome. You can just see the man's - Ezra's - hair behind the girl, with an unusual shock of blonde in otherwise dark brown curls.
"I was wondering where you went, birdie. One minute I was on the ground and next thing I know I'm sitting here like a babe in a bassinet, right as rain," he says, voice melodic with an accent you can't quite place.
"Do you feel better, Ezra?" the girl asks, voice wavering just slightly.
"I do. Are you faring alright yourself?"
She nods, and crosses her arms. Silence fills the room for a moment, then Ezra speaks again.
"Who was so kind as to bring us here, birdie?" he asks. The girl turns to you and steps aside so Ezra can see you.
"She did," she replies, a soft look on her face.
You step forward and look at Ezra properly for the first time. You hadn't really paid much attention to his facial features back on the Green, so concerned as you were with getting him out of there.
His dark brown eyes are kind, and his lips tease at a smile. He's got stubble growing on his chin and a mustache on his lip. There's a thin white line in the shape of a crescent underneath his left eye, the silvery remnant of a deep cut sustained long ago. He's older than you, maybe 40 or so. For some reason, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you're quick to snuff those out best you can. Mirroring the girl, you cross your arms, and flip your braid over your shoulder.
"Yeah, that would be me," you say, as nonchalantly as you can manage.
"I recognize that voice from the radio," he notes, looking at you intently. "I can't hardly give you enough thanks for getting the two of us out of that... sticky situation. You really are somethin' else, sugar."
You shrug, unused to such praise, such immediate kindness. You feel your face heat up with a blush, and you clear your throat.
"Well, it sure sounded like you were in need of some help. I'm happy to see you're doing better."
Your voice is softer than you intend. Spending even three minutes with this guy seems to have thrown you off balance. You haven't met anyone that talks like him since you were in school, and it's like a breath of fresh air.
His face turns serious at your words. Ezra's gaze is as intense as it is gentle, burning into your own.
"Oh, much better," he assures you, giving you a look you can't quite decipher. A smile quickly returns to his features. "It's a shame they couldn't get my arm to grow back."
You laugh a little at that, happy to see that he's in good spirits. The nurse steps forward then, tablet in hand. The three of you turn to her.
"Ezra will likely be discharged tomorrow morning, given how much progress he's made just today. He will need somewhere to rest, however, for the next week or so. We can help to make boarding arrangeme--"
"No," you interrupt, surprising even yourself. "No, he can stay with me. I have quarters in the 4th wing." You turn to the girl. "You can stay with me too, if you'd like." You don't know what's come over yourself, but you find yourself drawn to this unlikely pair.
The girl nods once, just as Ezra speaks up. "You're too kind, sugar. Your hospitality and generosity are appreciated beyond measure. Do let us know if there's any way at all we can show our gratitude."
You shake your head immediately, waving a hand as if to wave away the notion.
"No need for that. Consider it a celebratory gift for parting with the Green."
Everyone laughs at that - even the nurse, who hides her grin behind her tablet.
-
The next morning, you and the girl - whose name you still don't know, and who still does not know yours - visit the med-bay first thing after breakfast. Your quarters are small, enough to fit two comfortably and three at most. The girl has decided to take the sofa, since Ezra will need to rest, and a bed is most ideal for that. It seems you both tend to rise early, so you gave her some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She took both without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to see her eat after however long she and Ezra had been out there.
When you two arrive, Ezra is waiting in his room, dressed in clean loungewear with a bag on his lap. He is seated in a wheelchair. You and the girl greet him, happy to see that he is rested and ready to leave.
"I told the kind folks that I am more than able to walk unaided," he comments when you begin to push the chair from behind. "They insisted, however, and I am not one to ignore the advice and orders of my physicians."
You see the girl try to hide a smile. It seems as though he's grown on her, and she struggles to admit that to herself. Before you can think better of it, you give Ezra a pat on the right shoulder, a small attempt at reassurance.
"You'll be walking in no time, I'm sure," you reply.
You feel his left hand cover your own, and you nearly stumble as you push him along through the hallway. His palm is rough and callused, a signature trait of most prospectors. It's large, too, covering your own entirely. Its warmth soaks through the back of your hand and into your stomach.
"With kindness as bright as yours to guide me, that will certainly be the case."
You don't know what to say to that, so you give his shoulder a squeeze and retract your hand.
The 4th wing is not too far from the med-bay; the station itself is smaller than most, so the distance is blessedly short. Ezra does most of the talking while the three of you walk.
"It would suit me just perfectly to never see that god-forsaken moon again so long as I live," he comments just as you reach the door to your quarters. You scan your ID card and the panel slides open, revealing a small but comfortable dwelling. "Forget the gems, forget the money. Prospecting is surely the most foolish endeavor of them all."
"The lust for wealth is stronger than the fear of death," you reply, almost without thinking.
Ezra looks up at you, smiling, a curious look on his face. "Asmolea. Ruminations, chapter seven. Color me impressed, sugar."
You look back, equally surprised. "You recognize that quote?"
"Why, yes, in fact, I do," he responds, and you notice the girl watching the two of you out of the corner of your eye. "I was an admirer of the great thinkers, long ago. When I was younger, and more -- well, more curious about such things, I suppose."
You wheel him into the small sitting area, arranged around a holo-screen. The walls are bare, lack of personality belying a short-lived residence here. You engage the wheelchair's brakes and take a seat yourself, across from him on an armchair. The girl sits on the sofa, where she slept last night.
"Philosophy is the sustenance of the mind," he continues, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. He winces slightly at the motion, but keeps speaking nevertheless. "Without it, we decay. We risk succumbing to trivial errors of man. It is the sharpening stone to the blade of our intellect."
"What about literature?" the girl asks, her eyes firey and brow set. "I think that's much more valuable than what some ancient guy thought about a world we don't even know anymore."
You smile, pleased at this contribution. "I think great literature can convey philosophical ideas in the form of a modern narrative. You just have to keep an eye out for it, and understand its relevance to the story."
Ezra nods along. "I agree. Where did you read Asmolea, sugar?"
"At the Ephrate," you reply, and you see the girl perk up. You smile at her, hoping the two of you will have a chance to discuss that later. She seems entirely intrigued by you now. "I studied there for seven years, until I was eighteen."
"Why did you leave?" the girl asks.
You sigh, and bring your foot up to rest on the chair, so your thigh is pressed against your front. "Life there didn't suit me. I'm much happier on my own, not surrounded by stuffy academics and pretentious businessmen. The only ones I could stand there were the monks."
Ezra laughs at that. "The Neo-Carthusians?"
You nod, grinning. "Yeah. Considered joining, for about a month or so. I admire their lives of solitude and contemplation, but I couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long."
The conversation flows between the three of you so naturally you hardly notice the time flying by. They ask questions about you, and you return the favor by inquiring about their lives. The girl is quiet when it comes to her past, but you find out her father died on the Green. Both she and Ezra are hesitant to talk about it, which tells you all that you need to know.
Night falls quickly, or at least night according to standard time - on the station, there is no night or day, just a constant darkness visible out the windows interrupted by pinpricks of light. Everyone follows the standard clock, which runs according to time on the Ephrate. 
You show Ezra to his room after the three of you have eaten dinner. It's a small space, just enough for a bed and a dresser. Carefully, he stands from the wheelchair, tosses his bag on the bed, and turns to look at you.
He's much taller than you are. The butterflies return as you look up at him, and a warm feeling radiates through the area below your stomach.
"Thank you again for the hospitality, sugar," he murmurs, voice low and deep. He moves the wheelchair out from between you, so there's nothing but air separating the two of you. "As I said, don't hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to repay you. Anything at all."
You nod, at a loss for words. His hand comes up and gently brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You positively melt. This man is going to be the death of you.
"I'm just glad to see you safe, Ezra," you reply, and your eyes flutter at the way his fingers linger over the apple of your cheek. His lips look so soft, his eyes full of promises he intends to keep. You can feel yourself falling, as if in a dream.
You blink and lean back, away from him. This is a bad idea. For what reason, you can't say, but you dart to your room as soon as you begin to doubt yourself.
You shut the door and lean against it. There's no way, your mind whispers to you. He feels indebted. That's the only reason. You're too young, he just sees you as a kid.
In your haste, you didn't see the look in his eyes as you left so suddenly, or the way he stared at the door long after you shut it.
-
In the night, you dream of him. Dark eyes above you, heavenly, filthy moans filling the air around you, something thick and perfect filling the empty space inside you. His musical voice murmurs sweet words in your ear, and you hear the sound of your passion just as much as you feel it. Your hands grip his hair as he thrusts, your body trembling underneath him.
Your peak startles you awake, and you find your bedsheets soaked with the evidence of your fantasy.
Your bedside clock tells you it is the early hours of the morning. With a sigh, you toss back the blankets and emerge from your room quietly. 
After a quick shower in the refresher, you step out and wrap a towel around yourself. You stare into the mirror, thinking about him.
You've never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in your life. Sure, his looks contribute quite a bit, but it's much more than that. You and he seem to have a similar intellect, his passion and aptitude for prose matching your own knowledge and understanding of philosophy and the humanities. The girl is also equally respected by him as she is by you, and you both share a common want to see her thrive. You've known them both barely a day and a half, but they already feel more like family than anyone you've ever known.
You wonder if you're imagining his affections toward you. That could just be him, his way of communicating. You desperately hope it's more than that, but you also can't get your hopes up because of a silly dream.
A silly, beautiful dream.
Water drips from your hair, down your chest, and into the towel. As you begin to shiver, you decide to return to bed and try again for some uninterrupted sleep. You'll have to change the sheets, unfortunately, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes.
You open the door and tiptoe back out into the hallway, quiet as a mouse. Just as you're about to sneak back into your room, towel clutched tightly in your fingers, you're startled by the door opposite your own sliding open.
And there he is. Dressed in little more than a pair of grey shorts, hair tousled and eyes weary with sleep.
He blinks a few times, and then his eyes widen, suddenly much more awake. You see him glance down, and his mouth parts ever so slightly before his gaze returns to your face.
You are frozen in place. Somewhere in your mind, you will your feet to dart away again, but the remnants of your dream still echo in your muscles, preventing you from leaving. Your hands tighten on your towel and despite yourself, you make note of his chest, his abdomen - the wound, which is an angry red line, held together with clear stitching, and which makes your heart clench at the thought of what would've happened had you not arrived - and finally, a rapid glance at his shorts, his thighs, before you find your sense and look back up at his face.
There's that intensity again, with considerably less gentleness. You inhale sharply, and spare a glance towards the sitting area, where the girl sleeps.
"She's quite the light sleeper, I'm afraid. I'd be mightily surprised if she didn't already hear --"
His voice is low, nearly inaudible to your ears as you look back at him. The tone of it causes the insides of your thighs to tremble, and your chest to heave with silent breaths. Ezra cuts himself off, clearly not having meant to say as much as he did.
Maybe it's the early hour that makes the words escape your lips with ease. Maybe it's the dream, the visions of which you can still see in your mind's eye as you look at him. Perhaps there's just something about Ezra that makes you bold, standing there with nothing more than thin terrycloth protecting your modesty.
"Hear what, Ezra?" you whisper, and set your jaw when his eyes widen ever so slightly.
Ezra reaches out, and his hand comes up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your jawline, behind your ear, and he steps forward. He's so close that you can feel the heat from his body on your own.
His lips press softly against your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that makes you shiver. The hand that isn't clutching your towel moves to rest on his waist, golden skin warm under your cold fingers.
"Hear this, sweet thing," he murmurs against your skin, lips still pressed against you. "How strongly I feel for you. How deeply I know that it was divine providence that brought you to me. The ways I want to repay you for saving my life.”
His words are like molten gold, shimmering and hot as they slip over your skin and into your heart. You shiver, and your fingers curl gently into his side.
”I don’t - I don’t want you to feel obligated to... to do anything. With me. For me,” you whisper back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of this quiet moment. 
Ezra hums in dissent against your worries. “No... no...” he says, as his fingers slowly thread their way into your hair. “It isn't like that —“
He’s interrupted by a shuffling sound from the sitting room. You both freeze, wide-eyed, and look toward the room where the girl sleeps.
A moment passes, and then two. Enough that you know she is still asleep and there isn’t any risk of her finding you two like this.
It‘s like ice water thrown over you, the reminder of where and who you are. You look back up to Ezra, whose eyes are soft and knowing as they stare at you. His hand gently caresses the back of your neck, and then he brings it back to rest at his side.
"Go to bed, sweetheart," he murmurs, and then steps around you. He enters the refresher without another word.
You do as he says, but you find yourself struggling to fall back asleep once you return to clean, cool sheets. You watch the stars inch past outside your window as your mind races at the memory of his lips.
-
The next morning, you wake to sounds of movement coming from outside your door. For a moment you panic, before you remember your two visitors. And then you remember your encounter with one of those visitors last night, and the hushed words exchanged between you and him.
Beside you, the clock reads barely past 06:00, which is usually the time you wake up anyway. Today you have another shift at the bar, assuming you still have a job there after you ditched it the other day. With a groan, you pull yourself out from under the warm, soft covers and dress yourself. 
The noise becomes more decipherable as you make your way down the hallway. Ezra and the girl are making small talk while something sizzles. You turn the corner and see Ezra standing at the stove with the girl sitting at the counter, the pleasing aromatic smell of pork bacon wafting through the air. You lean against the wall and watch the pair with a small smile, happy to see someone making use of a space normally reserved for microwave rations and alcohol snuck from the bar.
No one's ever accused you of being a particularly good bartender, that's for sure.
Ezra turns to look at you when he hears your footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face. 
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases, and pushes the bacon around with a spatula. "I cannot emphasize enough how divine it was to wake up with a soft cushion beneath me rather than dirt. I could much too easily let myself get used to this, and I think Cee here agrees with me on that account. Don't you, birdie?"
The girl nods, but you don't notice it. The color has drained from your face and you feel a frantic, sinking feeling in your chest.
"What did you say?" you ask, pushing yourself off the wall and looking at Ezra with wide eyes.
He looks back, brow furrowed, confused. "I believe I said that I could get used to this...?"
You turn away from him and look at the girl. She's looking at you too, now, concern evident in her eyes.
"What did he say your name is?"
She blinks. "My name's Cee."
Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes. It can't be. But she's the right age, and her hair's the same, and...
"What was your father's name?"
She looks even more confused now. "Um, it was Damon."
Oh my god. "Oh my god. You're Cee."
The two of them stare at you like you've grown a second head. You laugh, realizing how foolish you look.
And then you give her your name.
Cee's eyes light up like nothing you've ever seen before, and she nearly launches herself off of the counter stool to wrap you in the tightest hug you've ever been given. You laugh again, a loud and boisterous thing, as happy tears spring unbidden and flow onto your cheeks. Her hands grip the back of your shirt as you hold her head to your chest with both hands.
"I never thought I'd see you again," you mutter through the tears, pressing your nose against her hair. It's her. It's really her. Suddenly you think Ezra was right about divine providence, that the three of you were meant to find each other, the event arranged by some mighty cosmic force.
"Dad told me you were dead," she cries, as the two of you collapse to the floor. Propriety suddenly no longer concerns you, not now that you're cradling your long-lost little sister.
"I'm so sorry, Cee. I'm so sorry."
You can't say much more than that. There are simultaneously too many and not enough things to say to the last family you have left in the universe, to this girl who was so much like you even in the first moments of knowing one another. 
Above you, Ezra clears his throat.
"While this is clearly an unexpected but happy reunion that I hate to interrupt, I do have to ask how you girls know one another, so that I might not be kept in the dark about your relation?"
You look up at him as you move backwards to rest your shoulders against the wall. His dark eyes look down at you from above, and though you've never felt so small, you've also never felt happier in your life.
"She's my sister," you answer with a smile. "Same mother, different father. We were separated when our mother died. She was hardly more than a baby."
Ezra's eyes grow soft at that, and he nods. You begin to think that maybe now you both have something to thank the other for. You may have saved his life, but his radio transmission brought you Cee.
You tighten your arms around her, and place a kiss on the crown of her head. You aren't sure how long you sit there - long enough to have surely lost your job when you don't show up for your shift, but you can't find it within yourself to care. This is all that matters to you right now.
-
The day passes with you and Cee doing most of the talking, for once. Ezra seems content to just sit and listen, though you catch him a few times looking at you like he did in the darkened hallway last night.
After lunch, he makes a point to sit next to you on the couch, arm draped across the cushions behind you.
If Cee notices, she doesn't say anything. You still aren't sure where your relationship with Ezra stands, but in the midst of sharing stories with Cee and learning about her life, you don't find time to sort that out.
Dinner comes and goes again, and the topic of the future comes up.
"When do you think you'll be healed enough to travel again, Ezra?" you ask, as the three of you work on cleaning the dishes.
He shrugs. "I'm fit to travel right now," he answers, and you give him a look. No, he isn't. He chuckles. "Alright, sugar. Maybe another day or so. The serum they gave me to apply daily has been working wonders, I must admit."
You nod, and look over at Cee. "Where do you want to go? The Ephrate? I have no doubt you could get into the school there."
She perks up at that. "You think so? Would you bring me?"
"Why not? I'm a traveler anyway, and I think it's high time I got out of this station. Ezra?" You look over to him, but he's already looking at you.
You feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. "I would be most honored to accompany you both to the Ephrate, if you'll have me."
"Yes, of course," you reply, leaning into his touch, and you turn back to the task at hand.
Later on, when Cee is in bed listening to her music, and Ezra's in his room, you sit on your bed thinking about what's to come. In order to apply to the school, Cee will need a guardian contact, and a record of education. You hope she can pass the entrance exam and submit a writing sample, and that that will be enough. Maybe you can talk some of your former professors into considering her.
It’s a pretty long trip from the station to the Ephrate, even with a ship that can travel at hyper speed. You can’t help but wonder what will become of Ezra after you get Cee set up in school. 
The man captivates you, to put it plainly. His poetic manner of speaking and the gentle fire of his passion, when directed at you, gives you a feeling unlike any other you’ve experienced before. You’ve met plenty of men in your life. None have ever made you feel such a way. 
Before you can think better of it, while the desire to see his sleep-ruffled hair still sits at the forefront of your mind, you get out of bed and leave your room. Quietly, so as to not disturb Cee, you knock on his door.
”Come in!” he calls out from somewhere within.
You slide the door open, slip inside, and close the door behind you. Ezra is sitting up in bed, looking at you.
”To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a beautiful woman enter my chamber in the night?” The question is teasing, good-natured, but the compliment still makes your stomach swoop.
You smile, and walk to where he lies in bed, leaning against the dresses. “I wanted to thank you, Ezra. You brought my sister back to me, which is something I’ll never be able to repay you for. Can we call it even?” 
He laughs at that. “Sure we can, sweet thing. You know, when I first saw you in that recovery room, I thought I recognized you from somewhere, and that my brain had done me the disservice of erasing all memory of you. I now realize it was because you and Cee are so much alike. I haven’t known her for much longer than I’ve known you, and it remains a miracle that she has given me even a modicum of trust, but I see the relation between you clear as a bell now.”
You have to smile at that. It warms your heart to know you didn’t imagine it, that someone else noticed it too.
Ezra reaches out then, in the dim light, and you step forward. Thinking he's reaching for your hand, you extend yours - but he bypasses it completely and wraps his hand around the back of your upper thigh, thumb brushing against your sleep shorts. A giggle escapes your lips as he pulls you in even closer to him. Ezra leans forward and presses his face against your midsection, nose just next to your belly button.
Confused, but certainly pleasantly surprised, you place your hands on his head and thread your fingers through his dark curls. Gently you massage his scalp, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection. It's different than last night, though you can't exactly express how. 
You decide you're really enjoying seeing these different sides of Ezra when the two of you are alone.
When you happen to massage a certain spot right behind his ear, Ezra groans, a low sound that ripples through your bones. His grip tightens, and you feel his next words more than you hear them.
"Come here, little one," he murmurs into your stomach, nosing at the hem of your shirt. The pet name makes you clench, desire flooding through your center. 
He pulls you closer, shifting his face away so he can guide you down onto the bed. You swing one leg over his waist just as he slides his hand up to grip your ass, turning you further so you're on your back next to him. He's on his side, propped up by his elbow, leaning over you.
You're breathless, staring up into those infinite brown eyes.
"You have consumed my every waking thought since the moment I first saw you" he says softly, his voice a low purr that awakens some unknown part of yourself. You turn into him, resting a hand on his side, and he presses his nose against your cheek.
"I must have been a saint in a previous life to have earned this sweet embrace," he continues, breath warm against your face. "I want to learn you, to study you with the same vigor the ancients studied and examined the mind. I want to know you, sweet girl, in every way possible.
"But I must be truthful with you, because I could no longer live with myself if I were not. I am not a good man. I have lived a long life of violence and amorality, and death and deceit seem to follow me hand-in-hand. You are so young, little one, full of life and vitality, future bright ahead of you. I do not deserve you, and you certainly deserve better than me."
His words are like needles piercing your heart. You slide your hand up his chest to cup his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. You draw him away ever so slightly so you can look him in the eye.
"You and I are not so different, Ezra," you hum, making sure that he keeps the eye contact. "I have been on that same path, of death and violence, for years. I've lived for none but myself."
You slide your thumb across his lower lip, soft and pink and tempting.
"Let me live for you." 
You punctuate your whispered plea by drawing him back down and pressing your lips to his. He gasps into the kiss before returning it with passion amplified twofold. His leg slides over your midsection to stabilize himself, knees pushing in between your own so your thighs stretch open around his.
Ezra deepens the kiss almost immediately. You surrender to his lips, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles again in his hair. His mouth is hot, tasting faintly of mint but mostly a sweet flavor you attribute only to him. You let out a soft moan at the feeling building in your cunt, wet and warm and yearning for him, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Ezra licks at your teeth, seemingly in an attempt to map out every part of you that he can.
All you're able to do is moan, melting into him like a candle to a flame.
You feel Ezra shift a little, followed by profanity muttered softly against your lips. He draws away, and you open your eyes to see him clenching his jaw.
"'M still not fully adjusted to not having a kriffing arm," he grumbles, frustration evident in his eyes. You hum, hurting for him, wanting to take his pain away.
"What do you need, Ezra?" you ask. "What can I do?"
He presses his forehead against yours and sighs. "I want to see you, sweet thing. I want to touch you."
You flush, understanding the meaning of his words and feeling your panties grow wetter at the implication. 
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes." You push at his shoulders, urging him to sit back. He does so, sitting back. You rearrange your legs so that yours rest outside of his, and sit up. Your thighs are tucked against his hips in a position that feels much closer than before - you can just barely feel the heat of his groin against your own. A breath stumbles its way out of your lungs, chest heaving.
Before you can think any further on your insecurities, you grasp the hem of your shirt and draw it up and over your head. Ezra's eyes light up, glance at your face, darken considerably as he looks down again, and then he's on you once more.
His arm wraps around you tightly, hand pressing firmly into your ribs, and it's then that you really take in the size difference between you and him. As his head dips to press his lips against your breasts and nipples, you can't help but shudder at the way his body curls over your own. You feel distinctly small, in a way that would usually frighten you but instead makes you shiver.
This position is clearly more comfortable for Ezra, because he becomes more vocal as he lavishes your tits with attention.
"Gods, little one," he murmurs against the top of one of your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your peaked bud, "your body is divine, the sweetest fruit in the universe." He pauses to suck at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and the sight of it forces a whine from your throat. Something about it is so perfect, so perverse, for a man who's always been so sweet, that you can't help but press your clothed cunt down on his cock, the shape of which you can feel burning and hard like an iron through your clothes.
Ezra lets out a choked growl at that, a deep rumbling sound that you immediately commit to memory, in case of the unfortunate event that you're not blessed to ever hear it again. He releases your teat, now spit-soaked and throbbing, and looks at you with eyes so dark you hardly recognize them. His brows are drawn together, teeth bared like a feral animal.
"That's what you do to me," he growls, moving his hand down to cup your ass, squeezing harshly. You gasp, and press into him, bare chest to bare chest. "Feel my dick against your little pussy, baby? Think it can fit?"
You nod frantically, knowing your shorts are soaked through, as his filthy words send your mind reeling. You're not capable of thoughts beyond him and this any longer.
Ezra uses his grip on your ass to press your cunt against him once more, and he rolls his hips up into you in a mimicry of what he'd like to do you. You moan, completely unashamed, and drop your head to tuck your face against his shoulder.
"Please," you whine, nearly unaware of the words coming out of your mouth. It's quiet, hushed, this next utterance, and it's passed through your lips before you can think twice about it.
"Please fuck me, daddy."
Ezra freezes. It takes you a moment too long to realize what you've said.
"What did you say?" Ezra asks, the words rumbling from somewhere in his chest.
You get a frantic feeling in your limbs, panic crawling up your throat. Great, you think, I've messed it all up. He probably thinks I'm some freak, screwed up in the head.
You're broken from your spiraling thoughts by the feeling of his lips on your neck, teeth digging into the space beneath your jawline.
"I asked you a question, sweet girl."
You tremble in his grasp. He's not going to let it go. "Daddy..." you whimper, and he groans.
"You really are a perfect little girl for me," he mutters as his hand slides around from your ass to the front of your shorts. You tighten your grip on the back of his neck and lean forward, thinking he intends to pull your remaining clothes down your legs.
Instead, he clenches his fist and tears them, both your shorts and your panties, from your pussy. You yelp as he does so, and watch as the fabric goes flying somewhere off to the side.
"There you are, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaning back to look at you, hand back in position on your bare ass. "Look at you. Filthy and perfect for daddy, aren't you? A fantasy come to life, placed in my lap by the gods themselves."
You moan once more, pressing your bare cunt against the outline of his cock in his thin sleep pants. He reaches down to pull it free, and as you keep your balance against him, you look down and see perhaps the biggest dick you've ever laid eyes on. Ezra chuckles, watching your reaction.
"You ready, baby? Want me to fill you up, fuck you like you need?"
You nod, and lean in to press your face against the crook of his neck again. "Please," you whine. "I need your big cock in my pussy."
The words are completely unlike you - something about Ezra has awoken a completely submissive, unfiltered side of yourself you didn't know existed before. Sure, you knew you wanted him, and weren't a stranger to sex, but this is an entirely new personality, focused entirely on being his. It's almost like a dream, and for a moment you feel as though you're floating, with how relaxed you are in anticipation for --
Oh.
He's guided the head of his cock to your entrance, and is using his leverage on your ass to guide you slowly, slowly down. You gasp - he's certainly the biggest you've ever had, and the stretch is delicious. Ezra's restraining himself, going slow so he doesn't hurt you, but you have no such qualms.
You drop down in one fell swoop, and the way he fills you makes your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves from your ass to around your waist, nearly encircling it entirely. He groans, loudly and deeply.
"You'll kill me like this, little one. You're just wrapped around my cock, aren't you? Desperate for it?"
You nod frantically. "Yes, daddy. Yes!"
Ezra moans at that. His hand grips your waist, teeth biting and sucking at your neck, as you push up on your thighs to lift off of him. The drag of his dick against the walls of your cunt is incredible, the head of it catching and pushing on hidden, sensitive ridges within you.
You drop down again, and begin to fuck yourself on Ezra's cock.
His hips piston up as you do so, finding and matching your rhythm with ease. His melodic voice mutters the dirtiest things you've ever heard as he slams his hips up into you.
"...That's it, sweet thing. You were made to fit on my cock, weren't you?..."
"...Wanted to do this that night in the hallway, take you right up against the wall..."
"...My strong, sweet girl, bouncing like a whore on daddy’s cock -- gods, look at your tits..."
You feel your climax building, rising like a fire about to consume you from the inside out. Ezra is close, too, from the way his hips stutter and his breathing becomes ragged.
"Sweet thing..." he groans, slowing his thrusts. "I can't... inside you..."
You shake your head. You know he's clean, since he was tested at the med-bay when he went in for the operation. And besides...
"I've got the implant, daddy. Come in me, please."
Ezra finishes with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard, and you come nearly at the same moment. It's an ethereal, heavenly experience, like the two of you have ascended and joined the gods who so graciously brought you together.
You fall asleep tucked into his chest, warm under his blanket, with the smell of him and you and both of you lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in your life.
-
A month later, you and Ezra and Cee sit at a mahogany wood table, filling out a holo-tablet with the form for Cee's entrance into your alma mater on the Ephrate. Your sister is already taken with the place, and you couldn't be happier for her. 
"Now it wants me to put in a parent or guardian's name," she says, stylus hovering over that section. The cursor blinks as it waits.
You're about to tell her to skip it, but Ezra speaks up before you can.
"Put my name down," he offers, and she looks over at him. "Is that okay with you?"
Cee nods, a genuine smile brightening her features. She turns back to the screen with haste.
"Ezra Stallard," he adds simply.
You look over to him, pleased with this revelation. 
As you watch Cee enter Ezra's full name into the blank and select Guardian, you get a chill up your spine. Despite yourself, you think back to that night, and you know Ezra's thinking the same when his hand moves over to rest on your thigh.
You can't wait to have your ship to yourselves; the joy of seeing your sister thrive in a new setting is followed only by the anticipation of what is to come. You and Ezra have made no plans for the future yet - all you know is that he will be with you, and that's the only guarantee you need.
For the first time in a very long time, your heart sings.
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samcrobae · 4 years ago
Text
Two of Hearts
A/N: don’t know what this is, this idea came to me late last night.
Gif credit to the original creator.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*Flashback*
Your alarm blaring from your phone wakes you up, 6AM. You need to get in the shower and dressed before your shift but can’t help but want to lay in bed some more. Turning over your run your hand absent mindedly over your boyfriend except he’s not there.
You open your eyes to see his side of the bed messy, cold, and empty. He probably had an early start to the day “club shit”.
Once you were showered you wrapped your hair in a towel and begin applying your makeup. You reach for your phone and send EZ a text. “Good morning, missed you this morning. Have a good day ❤️ see You tonight ?” You put your phone down and go about your morning. You made your coffee, got into your car and drove to work. Before you clocked in you checked your phone for a reply from EZ- nothing. No big deal, probably busy with club stuff.
On your lunch break, you pick up your phone and dial EZ’s number, straight to voicemail, “Hey its me, just wanted to check in and see how your day is going. Mine is insane, and i cant wait to go home. Anyway call or text when you can. I love you.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
8 months later....
You sigh as you are brought back from your thoughts, pushing the shopping cart around into the next aisle, as you remembered the last time you saw your boyfriend before he disappeared without a word. No goodbye, no rhyme or reason, no note, no final I love you. You went to bed together like normal, then the next day he was... gone. You loved him. He loved you- at least-so you thought. Why would he just leave? No one had heard from him in 8 months. Not Angel, Felipe, any of his brothers, hell- you even called Emily Thomas to ask if she had heard from him but no such luck.
You took comfort in the MC, spent most of your days with Angel or Felipe so you wouldn’t be left alone with your thoughts. Were you not enough? Did he stop loving you? What did you do to push him away? These were the things that kept you up at night, that’s when you would drink yourself into oblivion. One night, you drank so much you found yourself walking to the clubhouse, only to stop on the porch and fall to the floor, a puddle of drunk emotions. Angel found you. He carried you into the trailer and stayed with you til the morning.
You took comfort in Angel. You called him when you needed to cry, when you needed him to remind you that you were good to EZ- wherever he was, he was an idiot for just leaving. The club spent 3 months searching for him, hitting dead end after dead end. You took comfort in Angel. On the nights you thought you couldn’t go on, you called him and he would quickly come, wrap you in his arms, kiss the top of your head to remind you how special you are. How important you were to him.
You took comfort in Angel’s arms. Each time you wanted to fall to the floor, he would pick you back up. Spent his days off with you, brought you to all of the club parties and events. He did groceries with you, had movie nights with you. For your birthday he came over early, using the spare key you had given him and made you pancakes. He brought you flowers and a balloon, along with the entertainment center for your tv you had been eyeing, but knew you would never buy for yourself. He even put it together.
Angel took comfort in you. He held onto hope in finding his baby brother when he saw how much hope you held in your eyes. He let you in to the deepest, darkest depths of him- not because he had no one to talk to, but because he began to trust you with every bone in his body. You cooked for him, patched him up when he got hurt, checked in with him when he was away on runs. When he found out Adelita was pregnant with his baby, then was crushed by the immeasurable amount of pain learning that baby was not his, he took comfort in your arms. He laid his head in your lap and sobbed, while you ran your hands mindlessly through his raven locks. And you let him weep, you sat there for 4 hours while he cried.
And now here you were, on Christmas Eve. You had just left a Christmas party at the clubhouse, small gifts from the guys in tow. Angel was your ride and when he pulled into your driveway, he helped you carry your things inside. You quickly disappeared into the kitchen, digging through your cabinets for 2 wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite red. Your poured your glasses and Angel stood, perched against the doorframe of your kitchen, watching you dance around in your dress for the night. It was simple, but it was you. And it was perfect, and he think he felt nervous, but he wasn’t sure why because for the last 8 months you had taken care of each other, had been there for each other through the darkest times in your lives and never once was he nervous. Never once did his feelings falter, or feel indifferent.
You handed him the glass, “OH! Stay right here I got you something. Be right back.” You set the glass down and ran to your bedroom, appearing with a large black canvas bag in hand.
“Querida, now you know you ain’t gotta get me stuff. I thought we agreed we weren’t going to get presents for each other.” He smiled and outstretched his arm, taking the bag from you.
“I know, I know-“ you said, as you waved him off, “its nothing crazy, but I know its something you could use and I want you to have it.”
He pulled out a black sketch pad, new pencils, and new paint brushes. “Wow Y/N... this is... where did you get this? It’s amazing!”
You picked up your glass and held it out to him, “Merry Christmas Angel. It’s just my way of saying thank you — for everything— shit has been so hard and I don’t know if I would have made it without you.”
He picked up his wine glass and held it to yours, “wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
You should have looked away. Taken a sip of your drink and gone about your night. But the two of you locked eyes, and in that moment, his chocolate eyes burned into you and you found yourself moving closer to him, as he met you the rest of the way. His hands found your waist and your breathing was heavy, the air in the room was so thick, and you were... sweating? You loved EZ , he was going to come back to you. He had to come back to you. But why wasn’t he here? You wouldn’t be in this situation if he was here. Dammit EZ.
Your voice was a croaked whisper, “I.. I don’t think this is a good idea..”
“Yeah, its not.” His voice was thick, lazy, but soft at the same time, his hands coming up to cup your face and he gently planted a kiss to your lips, yours immediately melting into his. The kiss deepened quickly, months of unspoken feelings and tension coming to light and he backed you into the kitchen counter. When you hopped up onto the cold marbled surface, your wine glass was knocked into the kitchen sink, breaking into 3 pieces, but you didn’t seem to notice.
Breaking the kiss, you needed to come up for air, and you rested your forehead against his, your chests heaving. A small smiled graced his lips and his hands came up to caress and squeeze at your thighs.
“I cant tell you I regret that because I don’t...” he whispered as he let out a small chuckle.
“I would be lying if I said I regretted it, but I just... I need time, Angel.” You felt your emotions rise and catch in your throat, and you closed your eyes and kept your head rested on his. “I’m sorry..”
Angel felt his chest tighten, but he understood. He knew your heart lies with EZ. Everyone always picks EZ, why would you want him? He also understood that as much as he wanted to save himself the heartbreak and humiliation, the shame he would be faced with for sleeping with his brothers girl, he knew you needed him to stay.
Almost as if you read each other’s minds, you both spoke at once.
“I can stay if you want”
“Angel, can you stay with me?”
You both laugh nervously, him speaking first “yeah come on, lets go to bed.”
He slept in your bed that night, his hands coming up to explore every curve of your body, and despite you saying you needed time, you would be lying if you said this wasn’t heaven. You were so touch starved and confused. Your emotions were all over the place, but when his hands ventured between your legs, you stopped him.
“Goodnight.” You turned away from him, and closed your eyes.
_______________________________________________________________
Movement in the living room is what woke you, startled you mostly.
You jerked Angel awake, “Angel, ANgel did you hear that? Wake up....”
“What? What’s up mami?”
“Shhh..listen.. “ he jumped to his feet, adrenaline pumping, as he silently crept down the hall in his boxer briefs, tshirt, and gun drawn.
“Angel?”
That voice. You knew that voice. Your heart was in your throat. You were going to be sick.
“Ezekiel?” Angels eyes wide, frozen in place.
“Angel what the hell are you doing here?” EZ slowly walked to his brother, then looked down the hall to find you coming out of the room the two of you once upon a time shared.
“Hey Y/N. I’m back.”
____________________________________________________________
@starrynite7114 @wrcn9fvlcver @sadeyesgf @sesamepancakes @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @gemini0410
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honey-dewey · 4 years ago
Text
Bomb (of the Bath Variety)
Pairing: Ezra/Reader
Word Count: 2,184
Warnings: None! 
Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell
Someone please introduce this man to the concept of a spa day. He just needs to relax in a tub with Epsom salts for the muscle pain and a bath bomb because they smell nice. He needs someone else to wash his hair for once because god knows he can’t do it. He needs to be introduced to moisturizers and other skin care products. He also needs (wants) funky colored nails. 
“Jesus Ezra!” You shouted, seeing him shuffle into the pod, covered in grime. “What did you do all day?”
“Uh,” Ezra hesitated, biting down on his glove and pulling it off. “Cee pushed me into a dirt hole.”
Cee nodded. “Can confirm,” she said with a grin. “I’m headed next door so I can bathe.”
You waved to her, watching the hatch shut once more. “And you,” you said to Ezra as he tried to sneak past you. “Get in the bathroom.”
Ezra pouted, but listened. He didn’t hate bathing, but he wasn’t super keen on it either. It was a hard task when you only had one hand, but today would be different. If you’d set it up right, today would be pure bliss for Ezra.
Starting with you turning the shower off.
“Moonlight?” He turned when you cut the water, clearly confused. “I thought I had to bathe.”
“You do,” you agreed, kneeling beside the bathtub and turning it on. “Ez, you’re taking a spa day.”
“A what now?”
You stood, slowly working a still confused but now considerably more relaxed Ezra out of his work suit, pushing the leather harness off his shoulders. “A spa day, Ezra. Where you take a day to just relax. Get all clean and done up with nice products.”
Ezra shrugged, looking into the bathtub that was steadily filling with water. “That’s gotta be some fancy tradition from your planet, because I’ve never heard of that before.”
“You were a state ward!” You pointed out, bending to grab a cardboard box of various spa day supplies you’d been saving for an occasion such as this. “You’d also never held a real book or eaten a full meal until you started prospecting.”
“Fair,” Ezra hummed. He wasn’t one to open up about his past, especially his days as a state ward. But you’d caught glimpses of the life he’d led prior to becoming a prospector. Cold bunks crammed into a room full of underage orphaned boys, all shivering. No one had a family name, and it was rare any one of them was happy, or really even survived to make it out. Apparently, at the state house Ezra had been raised at, the suicide rate was almost 40%.
But that was the past, and this was the present. You opened the box and pulled out a bath bomb, reading the label and setting it on the counter. “You like mint, right?”
“Of course,” Ezra said. “Reminds me of you.”
You smiled, turning to kiss Ezra. “Get in the tub Ez.”
Ezra, with that beautiful crooked grin on his face, removed the last of his clothes and stepped into the tub. “You know, this tub has room for two.”
“Shame I won’t be getting in,” you said. “I already bathed.”
Ezra pouted. “Moonlight, you wound me.”
“My sun, this is about you, not me.” You handed him the bath bomb. “Go ahead and put that in the water. I have some epsom salts in here, I know it.”
As you knelt down to find the pesky bag of salts, Ezra put the bath bomb in the water, gasping as it began to fizz. “Moonlight! It’s dissolving!”
“It’s supposed to,” you said, standing with the bag of salts. Ezra poked the bath bomb with a happy grin, his finger going green from the fizz. “It’s called a bath bomb for a reason. Scoot.”
As Ezra moved reluctantly from the bath bomb, you measured out two cups of epsom salts and poured them into the bath as well. Ezra was clearly disappointed when they didn’t fizz like the last thing you’d put in the water, but the slight rosy smell was enough to make up for it. “What is that for?”
“Epsom salts help with muscle pain,” you said, putting the bag down and dragging a stool over so you could sit at Ezra’s height. “I use them sometimes after we do really bad prospecting trips. Hopefully, they’ll help with your arm.”
Ezra’s face darkened, the delicate subject of his right arm, or lack thereof, causing the mood to sour. You sensed the change in the air and immediately brightened your tone. “But, that’s not all we’re here for,” you said. “Depending on how far you’re willing to let me go, we could be here for hours. I bet Cee would join us for face masks,” you added as an afterthought.
“Face what now?”
“Masks.” You held up one of the tubs of clay masks you had. “They help with your skin.”
Ezra grinned. “I shall partake in this face mask ritual on one condition.”
Rolling your eyes playfully at your poet of a boyfriend, you crossed your legs. “And what would that condition be, my sun?”
“Paint my nails?”
It was an odd request, but one you weren’t about to turn down. “Okay. Consider it done.”
You let Ezra soak for a while, sitting beside him on the stool and reading. It was a book aimed mostly at teenagers, but Ezra had said something about it being Cee’s favorite and now you were determined to read it. So far, it was pretty good.
Eventually, you put the book down and convinced Ezra to dunk his head under the water. When he came up, water running in thin streams down his skin and hair plastered to his head, you laughed and picked up a bottle of rose water shampoo.
“Lean back,” you instructed softly, laying a towel across your lap so Ezra wouldn’t soak your pants. He rested his neck on the edge of the tub, head falling back into your hands. “Comfy?”
“Could be worse,” Ezra decided. You leaned down to kiss his damp forehead, making a face when the soapy tang of the bath bomb and epsom salt water rolled over your tongue.
Sitting back up and popping open the shampoo bottle, you squeezed an appropriate amount into your hand and began to massage it into Ezra’s scalp.
The effect was immediate. He groaned, entire body relaxing as your deft fingers worked away the dirt and buildup from his hair. Ezra bathed every few days, just like everyone else, but with his once dominant hand gone, his job washing himself was lackluster at best. For him, you properly washing through his hair must’ve felt like pure heaven.
You scratched through his hair for longer than was probably necessary, keeping him in that blissed out state. When you finally lifted a plastic cup with water to his head and began to rinse the suds away, he keened softly, vocalizing his dislike of your lack of touch. You apologized, taking your non-dominant hand and sliding it up his forehead, settling it just before Ezra’s hairline to shield his eyes from the soapy water trickling down his face.
Tugging on the blond streak in Ezra’s hair, you discretely ran your fingers through it, slowly spiking it up into a mohawk.
“My moonlight, what are you doing?”
“Shit.” You didn’t stop in your actions, only finished what you were doing despite being caught. “Take a look.” You held a hand mirror out, giving Ezra a view of his new hairdo.
“Moonlight,” he said, turning to face you. It was too much. You broke down into laughter, doubled over and Ezra smiled and ducked his head beneath the water to return his hair to its plastered look.
Once your laughing fit had come to an end, you straightened and began to massage a small dollop of conditioner into Ezra’s hair. Restraining yourself from giving him yet another mohawk, you scratched your fingers over Ezra’s scalp for almost five minutes. He relaxed yet again against the porcelain rim of the tub, breathing evening out as he practically fell asleep beneath your hands.
You were slow going in your rinsing out of Ezra’s hair, trying not to wake him from his impromptu nap. He hummed, and when you put the cup down and seemed his hair free of conditioner, he reached up and cupped your neck. Pulling you close, he kissed you, lips molding perfectly despite being upside down. “I love you, moonlight.”
Smiling and pressing an upside down kiss to Ezra’s forehead, you softly murmured into his skin. “I love you too, my sun.”
Ezra got out of the tub some time later, once you’d helped him scrub dirt out of every crevasse of his body. The water was more brown than green at that point, but Ezra was clean. You held his hand as he stepped out of the tub and watched as he dried himself off, insistent that he could do it by himself.
As he dressed himself in soft sleep clothes, you called Cee in. She was eager to partake in your spa day, also dressed in her pyjamas. She had a few bandages spanning her skin, small ones indicative of minor scrapes. You counted three, one on her right wrist, one further up her right forearm, and one on her left foot. How she’d scratched herself through the boots and suit she wore on her jobs, you had no idea.
“I didn’t even know you had clay masks!” Cee said happily, opening the jar and taking a wooden popsicle stick to start applying it to her face.
“I made it myself,” you said, grabbing a second jar to start plastering the grey/brown paste to Ezra’s face. “It’s one of the only things I can make myself.”
Once all three of you had been properly covered in the clay, you began to slowly diffuse Ezra’s wet hair. Cee sat by, reading the book you’d been reading earlier. Nearly twenty minutes later, Ezra’s hair was dry and shockingly curly and the three clay masks were hardened.
“Thanks for sharing,” Cee said as you handed her a damp washcloth. “I don’t remember the last time I had a spa day.”
“We’ll have to do them more often then,” you decided firmly, passing Ezra the other washcloth. “My sun, do you still want me to do your nails?”
Ezra nodded. “Yes please.”
“Should I do yours too?” You turned to Cee, who shook her head.
“I don’t paint my nails,” she said softly. “Plus, I am exhausted. That prospect was hard as hell. Gonna go nap as soon as I’m clay free.”
True to her word, once Cee’s face was clean, she bid you both good night before leaving to go take a nap.
You took her washcloth, but Ezra stopped you before you could lift it to your face. “My moonlight, can I clean your face? Please? After all you’ve done for me, I want to make it even.”
You smiled, letting Ezra take the washcloth. “You don’t need to worry about making it even, my sun. I’m doing this because I love you.”
Despite your reassurance, Ezra gently began to rub the washcloth across your face in small circles, clearing away the clay as he worked. His hand was warm and soft, and you carefully put your forearms on his shoulders to keep yourself still.
When Ezra was done, he kissed every inch of your face he could while you writhed with laughter underneath him. “Ezra!” You shouted happily, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Ezra, my sun! I yield!”
Ezra pulled back, lips quirked in a smile. “I’m sorry my moonlight, but I couldn’t help myself.”
You hopped off the countertop you’d been sitting on and grabbed your small box of nail polishes. “Give me your hand,” you said, getting back on the counter and pulling out a small nail file. Ezra put his hand in your lap and sat on the stool you’d been using.
It was a gentle, silent process. You filed Ezra’s nails down, wincing at the bitten away stubs you were trying to fix. “Ez, it’s a miracle you don’t have an infection,” you said softly, finishing on his little finger. “This is bad.”
Ezra looked at his knees, shrugging halfheartedly. “I know.”
You kissed each of his fingertips, pressing one final kiss into his palm. “I love you anyway.”
That brightened Ezra’s downcast face. “I know.”
You found a beautiful mustard yellow nail polish and a glittery gold polish, slowly painting each of Ezra’s fingernails with expert precision. He was still, watching you work with a look of wonder on his face. “You’re amazing.”
Putting the finishing touch on Ezra’s thumb, you put the cap back on the gold bottle and smiled. “Thank you, my sun.”
Ezra waited a few minutes for the polish to dry before looking at it properly. The yellow color was muted, but still a nice rich shade. What really made it pop was the gold accents, reflecting the shitty bathroom lights and drawing attention.
“I like it,” Ezra decided firmly, curling his fingers and watching the gold dance.
“I’m glad,” you said, sliding off the counter. “Wanna make dinner?”
Ezra nodded, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a firm hug. “We’re doing spa days more often,” he said into your shoulder. “Please?”
Hugging Ezra, you nodded, relishing in the mint and rose water smell. “Absolutely, my sun. Absolutely.”
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yourdaddychan · 4 years ago
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wow-
literally just wow- i genuinely have nothing to say about this please- i cannot explain how much this means to me- there's 1000 of us- *hugs all of you* [ especially the porn bots ] *turns into formal luna asf*
i remember when i started in may, just a tiny chatbot with only one mutual, only known to you guys as [ answer : admin ]. and now, almost a year later, i have 1k of my chainsaw eating demons who are metal as fuck 💪ive learned so much being on tumblr, as a part of both the skz writers community and the chatbot community. ive made a bunch of friends, lost a bunch of ones, and 1k of you stuck with me. i cannot begin to express my gratitude to all of you, and how much all of you and your interactions with me mean to me. all of the simping, the random stories, everything. i cherish all of it, and i love all of you. aight so letz get to the personal thanking asf
alsoer i kinda wanted to do something sexy so imma do what color they remind me of :D most of them can be found at this link : https://louisem.com/29880/color-thesaurus-infographic
@kvinly linn bb 🥺through all the drama we've been through and shit im so glad we ended up becoming friends again cause we're kinda sexy together 😉thank you so much for being my 1000th follower bb you mean so much to me and if anyone hurts you im about to *turns into jennie and kachows them* licherally lets nevah fight again
-> you remind me of the color punch , and not only because of the name- underneath that grr me edgy grr me bully you're just a softie simp and that reminds me of punch :D
@undeadbots steph 🥺lemme be your personal broken chopsticks pls :( KLDSKLD anywayz we've also gone through some sexy drama and thankfully you saw da light 😉and now look at us, with our own band, and our own producing line 🥺brohemian rhapsody for life bro 🥺 *big kithie for da best dad in da world :D*
-> you remind me of the color viridian , because it gives me confident vibes :D you carry yourself proudly and confidently as you should tbh go steph
@binniesthighs oh look its a cutie *pushes you to a mirror* right there :D RORORO YOUR BOAT :DD we havent talked too much, besides my simping for jisung- but you give me very sexy energy so imma propose rq *gets down on one knee* will you be the rororo to my boat 🥺thank you for being my moot :D
-> you remind me of the color espresso , because espresso looks like the color to be pretty chill and laid back, and you're all of those, and calming to be around
@toshis-flower BAYBEE BEBE BEEBEE :D thank you so much for being my moot and making me a wifey asf ‼️ you're literally so much like me whats not to love <3 JKSDJKD JKJK you're really sweet and really just a good person to rant to, i love you so so so much and i think im going to remarry you :D
-> you remind me of the color taffy , because you're sweet, cute, and bright :D *eats you* yummy
@lov3ric seyoung. i love you. so much. MY SOULMATEEEE :DD even though we tell the story over and over like a bunch of grandmas, ill still never forget how we became soulmates and then bonded over boba 🥺im licherally going to marry you one day like ez 💪also i wanna eat you can i eat you youre really cute *eats you*
-> you remind me of the color daffodil , because it reminds me of banana milk which reminds me of you tbh- buuuttt did you know that daffodils are one of the first flowers you see when spring starts? that definitely reminds me of you because through all of the cb drama, you've always been there with me, like literally always- i cannot express how much i love you *kithie*
@simpchimp LIDDLE CHEESE FUCKER THEMBO :DD drink water *spank* i love you so much you cutie 🥺you're also licherally the funniest person ever like stop bae i kinda need to be the funniest but noer its you 😔alsoer i love how random you are KDSKLD so nevah stop that because then *revz up arm* youre going to get luna-ified
-> you remind me of the color jam , because even though you seem kinda scary at first [ yes i was 100% scared of you ] you're really soft :D
@berrywoo the sun themself 💪you are easily the purest person ive met, and im so happy i somehow became moots with you :D you literally hit diff, yk? theres something about your personality and the way you act thats so comforting, and that means i eat you because youre too cute :D you cant just be a wholeass teacher for kids and expect not to get eaten kids are licherally demons whoever deals with them properly and treatz dem nicely gets a nom asf
-> you remind me of the color honey , because you're a sunshiney yellow, and you're sweet like honey :D i think you need to hear that its okay not to be okay bb, and you can come to my dms anytime you want to rant 😎
@yourchungha MS OG CHUNGHA MS IM KINDA SCARED OF THE SHIT YOU DO MS FURREH LOVER 101 MS ANNA BANANA :D yeah youre like really nice- thats all i have to say- like how tf do you deal with [ redacted ] like eggsplain- ALSO YOURE CARRYING OUR CONVERSATIONS BECAUSE IDK HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE DKSJKD I LOVE YOU FOR THAT AND WE SHOULD HAVE LIKE ACTUAL CONVERSATIONS MORE OFTEN
-> you remind me of the color scarlet , because youre a sexy bitch tf and scarlet gives me 'idc what you think im hot' kinda vibes which is like exactly you
@satosimp WINTER DADDY :DD i lub you asf *insert we dont talk anymore by charlie daddy* ugh the way your personality matches mine is kinda sexy or whatever im also kinda in love with you but lets ignore that part 🙄 💪 *big kithes* *eats your cats casually*
-> you remind me of the color lilac , because it just gives me tsundere vibes, you act like you dont care but really do care :D you liddle sawftie *noms your cheekie*
@nightshade-minho DUCKIE :DD *insert we dont talk anymore by charlie daddy pt 2* licherally bae where the fuck are you i miss you you bettah be doing well in school otherwise im going to smack you with a chappal asf DSJJKSD *eats your cat because hes such a cutie*
-> you remind me of the color marigold , because you're adorable and sunshiney :D
@onigirimeeya MICHIE MICHIE MICHIEIEEIEI MY DAD :DDD i like you mucho much if you didnt know *kithes you* you're like one awf da best listeners ever- which is such a weirdass compliment but its true- you're really good at listening, and just being a comforting presence in general, like when you go to the beach and youre just staring at the waves all edgy mode, and it calms you down a fuck ton
-> you remind me of the color mint , for obvious reasons- mint choco chip cookie michie :DD
@hhjs bae we dont talk a lot but im kinda lurking on all of your posts- JKDSJSKD bae remarry me please youre really fucking hot 😭and the way you have with words is like damn- teach me oppar asf
-> you remind me of the color wine , because you're refined, and carry yourself in a way that makes everyone want to be you. the color wine is rich and deep, which reminds me of the way you write :D
@nsfw-stay MY LICHERAL BABIE YOUVE BEEN AN ANON FOR SUCH A LONG TIME AND WEVE TALKED ABOUT SO MUCH SHIT TOGETHER [ a lot about seungmin and jisung but shhh ] I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BB AND I WILL NOM YOU >:( BUT SOFTLY AND OUT OF LOVE *nomz yew* :D
-> you remind me of the color cerulean , because its a baby blue and what fits better than a baby blue yk? you're adorable and squishy and i want to nom you 24/7
@secretary-yeji *iz chan ig cause we dont talk admin to admin* oh erm gee is uncle chrith 😉DKLSKLD my liddle koala :D my liddle burgah :D my liddle aussie :D my besth frien :DDD evah since may i think we've been friends, and i think one of the highlights of that day was me marking you as spam twice and on accident too- LKSDKLSD WE DONT TALK ABOUT THAT anywayz thank yew for being uncle chrith's friend *kith*
-> you remind me of the color seafoam , because it's a very soft and light color yk, you're delicate asf which sounds like a bad thing now that im typing it BUT IT ISNT DSKLDSLK YOURE VERY CUTE YOU AND YOUR FLOOFY COWS :D
@ayolistenupp im kinda... in love with you? wtf? KDSDKSL MY DESI DADDY ASF I LOVE YOU SOER MUCH :D our music nights™️ mean so much to me, like theres just something so personal about listening to what the other person likes to hear even though half of your songs are sexy asf KLDSKLD
-> you remind me of the color ocean , because the ocean is loud but calming yk- like you're full of energy but you're also calming :D
@yanderexchungha OH ERM GEE YEW :O YOU PROBABLY WONT SEE THIS IN LIKE 10 MONTHS BESTIE MERRY CHRISTMAS IG KLDSLKD anyway i love you dad your lessons about vape >>> to quote your drunk ass exactly "vape isnt cool" JKSDJ anyway its gonna be sexy if we accidentally run into each other in the hallwayz asf
-> you remind me of grey cause youre a hag- JKJK KDJSD you remind me of the color caramel , because you're sweet, and licherally addictive caramel isnt good for my braces but i keep eating it 😰but youre addictive in a good way :D
@yanderelee literally only doing this because you were moping about not having a simp sunday and im such a good person 🥸you're cool 💪and unfortunately, you're funny too 😥and even though i bully you asf dont take it personally because i dont mean it asf
-> you remind me of the color dijon mustard because you just give those hacker vibes please dont hack me after i said this i like to keep my location private
@kpopswitchbot BESTIE 😏MY FIRST MUTUAL 😏 LICHERALLY DA BEST CUTEST FUNNIEST SMARTEST SEXIEST KEWLEST I CANT EVEN EXPRESS WITH WORDS FISHIE IN DA WORLD :D LICHERALLY STOP OUTDOING ME WITH YOUR GOODNIGHTS LIKE *spankz yew* YOURE LITERALLY TOO GOOD WITH WORDS ITS NOT FAIR- AND THE DAY YOU JUST TALKED TO ME IN SHAKESPEAREAN BECAUSE I FELT DOWN- AND EXPRESSED YOUR LOVE THAT WAY LIKE- PLEASE I ACTUALLY ADORE YOU AND I WILL LITERALLY EAT YOU ONE DAY
-> you remind me of the color coffee , not only because youre addicted to it but also because of the way you act, you're like the definition of an old soul- with the words you use, the drama kid you are asf, etc- you're a talented bitch *mwah* i love you so much you also remind me of those movies where they find an old ass book and they kinda hafta dust it off and it gives you treasure or something cause yeah that reminds me meeting you
AIGHT DAS IT ASF MWAH I LOVE YOU ALL :DDD
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anactualcaseofthetruth · 4 years ago
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Friends Can Break Your Heart Too > Chapter 3 Archive Of Our Own Link
Catch Up:  Chapter 2 Chapter 1
Summary:  Mia Flores flees to Santo Padre for one reason and one reason only: her godfather and the man who raised her, Bishop Losa. The last thing she expects is for Angel Reyes to come into her chaotic life and just maybe be the one thing that starts to make sense.
Chapter 3:
“Pizza!” Letty calls out as she enters the house just a few steps ahead of Mia.
Immediately, all construction noises cease, the small hand tools are dropped, and they are closing in.
“Fucking finally,” Coco says as he takes the pizzas from his daughter. “I was starting to feel like we’re working in a real fucking sweatshop, like no food or breaks until you’re done, you know?”
“Dude, you take a smoke break every fucking five minutes, calm down,” Angel instructs while freeing Mia’s own hands of the small pizza and box of Styrofoam on top without a word.
“Hey! These are for me and Letty, you each got your own pizza,” Mia complains with hands out.
“What, I’m not allowed to help? Be nice?” he questions and holds the food above his head so she can’t reach.
“Fine. Thank you, now give it back!” she whines and follows him to the kitchen to join the others, jumping for it the whole way.
“No, I don’t like your attitude.”
“Angel! C’mon, I’m hungry!” Mia exclaims with hands on her hips and a frown on her face
“Apologize first,” he says, and their audience laughs.
“I’m going to slap you,” she counters grumpily.
He looks her up and down, noting her ripped jeans and a tight, white tee matched with a black jacket and black and white sneakers on her feet. “Can you even reach without heels on?”
Mia’s eyes turn to slits before tapping him in the balls. It’s not so hard to hurt him, but enough to put him into defensive mode and lower the food. “Now, was that so hard?” she asks sweetly while handing the Styrofoam off to Letty.
“You better watch your back, Flores,” he warns, ignoring the snickers around them, and reaches for his pizza.
“Oh, but you’re so much better at it than I am,” Mia teases in return.
Angel nods as he swallows. “Can’t argue that. Hey, prospect, beer?” he asks of his brother a moment later.
EZ turns from his own pizza and takes enough out of the fridge for all of them besides Letty. She gets a bottle of Coke instead.
“Wait, you guys have beer here? While you’re working? I’m doing to die in a house fire, aren’t I?” Mia sighs while looking down at her white spinach pizza.
“Nah, there was nothing wrong with the wiring, so we haven’t had to mess with it. You’re safe from house fires,” EZ assures her.
Coco, on the other hand, makes an unsure noise and shrugs. "That’s not saying the crackheads who lived here before didn’t fuck with it. So, if you do die, it wouldn’t be on our consciences."
“That is what I was worried about, how you all would feel if something happened, not about actually dying,” Mia tells him in monotone.
“Good looking out, no worries, we’d be alright,” Coco insists, and the group laughs some more.
Upon further inspection to Bishop’s rental, her godfather decided a small remodel was in order before she could move in. “Nothing huge,” he promised her, “just some paint and maybe new carpet.” Well that was a month ago, and she has yet to move in.
What he meant by ‘nothing huge’ is repainting every single room, new molding, replacing over half the light fixtures, a few new windows, and a completely redone bathroom upstairs.  Then, after finding hardwood in good condition under said carpet he decided he wanted certain rooms without carpet at all which meant pulling up good carpet that wouldn’t have even needed replaced. The kitchen, luckily, was the best-looking room in the house when they started, having been redone before the last tenants moved in, so all he insisted on was a fresh coat of paint, a few new appliances, a couple tiles replaced, and a good cleaning.
Mia’s been told the upstairs is ‘almost done’ and they are finishing up the living room now.
She has also noticed new pieces of furniture showing up when she isn’t around. Which, that isn’t hard to do since she only stops by once or twice a day to feed the guys and ‘make sure they are doing their fucking work’ at Bishop’s request. A new queen-sized bed appeared two weeks ago, a dining set a few days later, and after commenting on how comfy his couch is one similar has taken residence in the garage, not that she is supposed to know about it.
Mia's done her best to not argue with Bishop about all of it. She knows he means well, however, when she looks around all she sees is her godfather silently pleading with her to stay, possibly forever, but when asked about long-term plans she avoids giving any real answer.
It’s not dependent on her, not really, it depends on whether her past catches up with her.
“So how much longer until you guys are finally done with this place?” Letty asks as she eats her chicken fingers. “I can’t wait to have a sleepover.”
Mia smiles at the younger girl and pushes all thoughts of her ex away. Over the past month the two of them have formed a close bond. She sees a piece of herself in Leticia—being one of the few Mayan daughters, having mothers who barely cared, and men who aren’t quite their fathers as their sole parent. Coco is actually Letty’s dad, but she didn’t know that until a couple months ago, so it’s still ‘completely weird’ according to her.
She hopes to be the female figure she needed when she was stupid teenager for Letty. Growing up around these guys isn’t easy. It’s certainly never dull, but Mia remembers how kids at school used to look at her, with that mixture of fear and pity, of jealousy and hate. She remembers what boys thought of her, that because of how women are around the MC that she would be both easy to sleep with and manipulate.
That last part wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wants it to be different for Letty.
“Well, Prez is supposed to have a walk-through in a day or two. If he doesn’t see anything else wrong with it, hopefully next week,” Gilly says when no one speaks up.
Mia likes Gilly, she likes all the guys, but these four are a package deal. Angel is the ringleader, EZ his sounding board, Coco the one who challenges him when necessary, and Gilly is the silent partner. He only really speaks when spoken to, but is always listening, and is very much a protector.
“You guys said that last week,” Letty reminds them.
“Girl, you know we had the Vegas run and it set us back. Stop pushing,” Coco warns her. “It ain’t even your house.”
“No, but we’re going to have a sleepover the weekend she moves in,” Letty tells him like its common knowledge. And honestly, she’s been talking about it so much it practically is.
“Really?" Angel questions with a playful look towards Mia, never one to pass up an opportunity to give her shit, or flirt with her. Sometimes both happen in the same sentence. "Anyone else invited to this sleepover?”
As always, she decides to play along. “Why? You need a facial? We can buy extra masks.”
“It’d be nice to be thought of, that’s all,” he insists. “Besides, it’s not me that needs the facial. EZ’s skin is shit compared to mine.”
“Hey,” his little brother speaks up and it sounds so pitiful Mia can’t help but laugh.
“Shoulda seen his face in junior high. Pimple fuckin’ city,” Angel goes on. “Our mom had to buy him special cream and everything.”
“Can we stop? Like, that’s the point of this?” EZ asks as he turns just a little red.
“The point is mine was clear and yours wasn’t,” Angel responds.
“And when we were kids you were fat and I wasn’t,” EZ says with arms crossed. “So, shut up.”
Everyone laughs as they eat, but Mia is practically jumping up and down with joy. “Oh, my God, please tell me you have pictures. I want to see pictures of little chunky Angel,” she pleads.
“Stop, it wasn’t that I was fat exactly,” Angel tries to stop her giggles. “I wasn’t! I was a little late to puberty, alright?”
“Dude, you were definitely chunky,” EZ states. “Accept it.”
“No, I just didn’t grow for, like, a year, that’s all,” Angel argues. “You, quit laughing,” he demands while staring Mia down. “I’m serious, I was pretty much the same height for a year. Ezekiel was almost as fuckin’ tall as me, and he’s two years younger than me. Then, I shot up, like, six fuckin’ inches.”
“And you lost all your baby fat?” Mia asks, still snickering.
“As a matter of fact, yes, I did, and now look, all muscle, baby,” Angel says and lifts his shirt to show the abs that he knows she’s fond of. And, sadly, she’s not allowed to touch them because no one knows they are sleeping together.
“Damn,” they all hear Letty mumble and Mia can’t stop the laugh from bubbling up her throat. She would have said the same thing if she hadn’t seen them before.
“Alright, put that shit away, I got a kid here,” Coco urges and throws a napkin at Angel’s chest.
“What, this shit?” EZ asks while lifting his shirt too.
“Hold on, I gotta get a picture of this,” Letty says, her phone already in her hands.
Coco smacks it away. “Stop, they are like your uncles.”
“No, they definitely aren’t,” she counters, making the brothers laugh while dropping their shirts.
Mia gives Letty a pointed look that the girl ignores. She knows all about the younger girl’s crush on EZ, and she also knows how completely unattainable and stupid it is. Letty will grow out of it eventually, probably when she gets a crush her own age. At least, her next crush better be someone her own age.
“You’re real funny. You get that shit you needed for school?” Coco questions as he stands having eaten his whole pizza save three slices. Letty nods with her mouth full. “Good, we should get going. You got school in the morning and I got my own shit to do.”
“Yeah, what’s her name?” Angel asks innocently while picking up another slice.
“Ew,” Letty mutters as the others laugh. “Let’s go before this conversation continues. Is your car unlocked, Mia? The stuff for my project is still in it.”
“Yeah, it’s open, help yourself.”
“I’m going to head out too. I told Pop I’d stop by before he went to sleep,” EZ mentions.
“Let me know if there’s anything good on the history channel,” Angel jokes.
“Don’t worry, I know how you feel about a good Vietnam documentary,” EZ assures him and the brothers share a laugh.
Everyone starts getting up and throwing away their paper plates and saying their goodbyes. For now, anyways, since most of them will meet up back at the clubhouse before the night is over.
Mia’s just finishing up putting all the leftover pizza slices into one box for the boys to fight over tomorrow before she brings over their lunch when Angel comes back into the kitchen.
“I locked your car,” he says, and she jumps about a foot in the air. “I know it’s a piece, but you still shouldn’t leave it unlocked like that.”
She turns with a hand over her heart. “Don’t do that, I thought you were leaving,” she scolds him.
“When did I say that?” he questions with a crinkle to his eyebrows.
Mia rolls her eyes. “I don’t know, maybe when everyone said they were leaving, and you walked out with them?”
“I never said I was leaving. Besides,” he starts while approaching her and sets his hands on her hips, “I can’t say goodbye before I get a proper hello.”
“Oh, a proper hello?” Mia asks as his head dips in closer to hers. “What would that entail, exactly?”
“This,” he says and lifts her onto the island, their lips already connected and tongues threatening to meet.
His beard brushes against her chin and she reaches up to lightly scratch at it. “Mm, scruffy,” she murmurs, having admitted her liking his beard to him before. He does, in fact, use a special beard shampoo and pomade in it.
He smiles at her and lifts his chin so she can have better access. “I swear, if I was a dog this shit would make me do that kicking leg thing,” he mutters with his eyes closed.
“Hm, you’re cute,” she tells him as his chin practically sits in her hands, his face the picture of peace.
She’s not ashamed to admit that Angel quickly has become her best friend, not only in Santo Padre, but in general. Of course, she’s never been one to have many friends. Growing up other kids were weary of her, of Bishop rolling up in a Harley to pick her up from school, and their parents only saw the kutte on his back.
When it came to the club, there weren’t many other Mayan kids. Most of them, like Coco with his other two that aren’t Letty, pay for them but aren’t really involved in raising them. Sometimes, when it was a son, they’d come back around during their teen years, want to be like their biker dad, and prospect once they hit eighteen.
Her best friend was Marcus Alverez’s son Esai, but she hasn’t spoken to him since she left Oakland when her and Bishop had their big blowout. Cutting the club out of her life included Esai, and no matter how much he tried to claw his way back in she didn’t let him. That’s a bridge she hasn’t repaired yet.
“You look tired, osito,” she whispers and his eyes pop open.
Angel smiles lazily. “Is that what I am to you, huh? A teddy bear?”
“My teddy bear,” she corrects.
“Let’s keep that between us, huh?” he murmurs when his eyes slide closed again as she continues to scratch at his chin. “Wouldn’t want the guys to know how sweet I am on ya.”
Mia holds back a laugh. “As far as they're concerned the only thing you’re sweet on is my ass.”
“Ain’t no hiding that, querida,” he agrees. After a few minutes Angel’s eyes open and his face breaks out into a smile. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Is it shiny or is it chocolate?” she immediately asks, making him laugh and lift his chin from her hands.
“Neither it’s upstairs,” he replies and turns around to signal for her to jump onto his back, and she does, happily.
Mia tightens her hold around his shoulders. “Ooh, a sex swing? I’m in, but Bishop might be pissed."
Angel's laugh in return is loud and boisterous. “Nah, not that, but I can always add one later if you want,” he says and begins making his way up the steps. “Remember last week when Bishop told you to think about colors for the house? And you weren’t sure about what you wanted to paint your bedroom?”
“Uh, yes,” Mia confirms as they reach the top. “But Bishop said I had time to choose, that painting was the last thing you guys were going to do and I had colors for all the other rooms so you guys could get started.”
“It is, but” Angel stops at the master bedroom and lets her slide down his back until her feet touch the ground. “I got an idea. If you hate it, I can fix it, make it whatever you want, I just,” he sighs, his nerves obvious.
“Hey,” Mia says and grabs his hands so both of them are intertwined, “I’m sure I’ll love it, whatever it is, just because you did it,” she assures him. “Unless it’s just plain white, then that’s kinda lame and I’ll probably laugh.”
Angel chuckles and shakes his head at her. “It’s not white, promise.” He opens the door hesitantly with an unsteady breath. “Just… don’t lie if you don’t like it, okay?”
“Promise,” she echoes back to him and he flicks the lights on before ushering her inside.
Mia finds the room painted a pink-orange shade, the kind in a sunset, but it’s the ceiling that makes her gasp. It’s blue, dark blue, with slashes of different shades throughout to resemble the night sky, along with some yellow and gold. It’s very Van Gogh, but of course not Van Gogh.
“Oh, my God,” she whispers with hands over her mouth.
“And, uh, there’s this too,” Angel tells her before slapping the lights off and the ceiling lights up. There are glow in the dark stars on it. Not enough to be childish or make the room bright, but just enough to look like stars faraway in the sky.
“Angel,” Mia sniffs.
“I remembered how much you liked looking at the stars when you first moved here,” he explains. “And I woke up last week to some stupid infomercial on the TV in the middle of the night. They were selling some Starry Night knockoffs and the idea came to me. I hope you don’t mind or, I don’t know, if you don’t like it I can—”
“Stop,” she insists with a hand on his chest as she looks up. “It’s… it’s—I don’t even know what to say, Angel.”
“You like it?” he asks, and his voice is so soft, so vulnerable Mia’s heart tightens.
For a moment all she can do is nod. “I love it,” she finally manages and blinks to stop the tears from forming. “I’ve never had anyone go out of their way for me like this except Bishop, at least, not unless it was some sort of apology from a boyfriend at the time.” The lights come back on and Mia turns to face him, but Angel is looking anywhere but her. “Did you do this yourself?”
He nods and looks up at the artwork, still avoiding eye contact. “Yeah.”
“How did you—I mean, how?” she asks with a knot in her throat.
“I used to paint when I was a kid, and into high school. I, uh, stopped when my mom died,” he confesses with his eyes now on his hands as he plays with his rings. “I was rusty as fuck, but I don’t know, I think it turned out pretty good.”
“Hey,” Mia urges and lifts his chin until their eyes meet. “I love it.”
Angel nods and licks his bottom lip. “Really?”
“I absolutely adore it,” she promises, her voice low and gets on her tip toes while wrapping an arm around his neck to pull until their foreheads are touching. “And the fact that you did it yourself? That makes it so much better. You’re very talented, mi osito.”
“Again, with the teddy bear? You’re gonna fuck up my rep, querida,” he teases.
“Well, the rep you have with me is being almost too good in bed and possibly the sweetest man I know, so,” she stops with a shrug and starts backing him up until he hits the bed half-covered in plastic.
Angel falls on the bed with a laugh and shoves at the plastic covering until it hits the floor. “Almost too good? Damn, gotta step up my game then.”
Mia moves to straddle him. “Please don’t,” she replies with her hands on his chest. “I would end up ugly crying, like, all the time.”
“Ugly crying, huh?” he asks and removes her hands from underneath his shirt where she had been trying to push it up. “Now I know what the goal is.”
“I am serious, Angel Reyes, do not,” she warns and starts fighting for control of her hands so she can continue to undress him. “Let me go! I want to make it up to you,” she insists as they begin to wrestle.
Angel rolls them over and pins her hands above her bed. She tries extremely hard not to get turned on, but fails miserably. “I don’t want you to make it up to me,” he tells her once she stops struggling. “I did this out of the goodness of my heart and making it up to me implies that I did it for something in return.”
Warmth spreads from Mia’s chest down to her toes. “Okay, then, can we fuck just because I’m horny then? It has nothing to do with me being incredibly grateful for what you’ve done.”
“You sure?” he questions and tightens his hold when she begins to resist again.
“Nothing at all,” she confirms as she squirms. “I just realized why you’re so good with your hands and I want to feel them all over me.”
“Alright then,” Angel lets go and sits back on his haunches. “Strip, everything off.”
“You’re sitting on me,” Mia reminds him with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ll help with the bottom stuff, but I think you can handle the top,” he tells her while pulling his own shirt off. “Hurry up, I wanna see if I can get you to do that ugly crying thing.”
Mia glares at him once the top is over her head. “Do not. This mascara is not waterproof.”
“Not my problem. I’m always prepared,” he replies while flashing a condom in front of her face, “it’s time you start to be too.”
She rolls her eyes while undoing her bra. “I can’t believe you’re about to get laid after saying that.”
Angel grins and starts to take off her pants. “I’ve gotten laid after saying tons of dumb shit. It’s the pretty face that gets the panties to drop,” he says before sliding her cheeky lace underwear down. “What my mouth can do helps though. So, get up, you’re gonna sit on my face.”
“Geez, bossy,” she mumbles but readily slips out from underneath him and onto her knees.
“You’re into it,” he murmurs before pressing his lips against hers as his hands slide down her bare sides.
“Only when your mouth or dick are involved,” Mia says, breathless, when they pull away.
Angel grins as his hand slides between her legs. “We’ll see about that.”
About an hour later, Mia makes her way downstairs looking for Angel. Guys have it so much easier, she thinks. All they gotta do after sex is get dressed. Being the handsy motherfucker her boy is, Mia looks like she’s been through a tornado after they’re done, and needs put together, not to mention a moment to pee. He just throws away the condom and zips up before sauntering off.
“Angel?” she calls after not seeing him in the living room or upon entering the kitchen.
“Outside!” she hears and notices the back door slightly ajar.
Mia finds him outside on a lawn chair, the kind people lay out on next to a pool, apparently something else she has inherited from Bishop’s previous tenants. Angel is holding a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other. “Room for me?”
Angel tilts his head back to look at her before parting his legs. “Always for you.” She lifts a leg of her own and swings it around to straddle his hips. “Beer?”
She nods and takes a sip before handing it back. “So,” she starts and stares at him expectantly.
“Sooo?” he echoes while taking a swig.
“So, you paint?”
Suddenly, the beer becomes interesting, as it’s all he can look at now. “I did.”
“Osito, you just pulled a Michelangelo on my bedroom ceiling. You paint, present tense,” Mia insists.
“I… relapsed,” he attempts to joke, but Mia shakes her head and lifts his chin.
“You know you can talk to me, right? We don’t just have sex, at least, that’s not all this is for me,” she admits with a tint of pink in her cheeks. “You’re like my best friend and I don’t say that easily. I’m not really one for friends.”
“I don’t believe that shit for a second,” Angel immediately disagrees with one last puff of his cigarette before flicking the cherry off the tip and turning his head so the gray smoke doesn’t hit her face. “But, if you gotta know, and I know you won’t shut the fuck up until I tell you,” he goes on and she grins in triumph, “my mom liked to paint. It was her thing. It was mainly religious shit, you know,” he says with a shrug, “but she was really good. She even has a piece hanging in the church we went to growing up.” He stops to smile, and Mia can’t help but mirror it, the genuine happiness coming from him infectious. “I remember when it first got displayed, my dad told everyone his wife painted it. I swear, he worked it into every single fucking conversation somehow.”
“And she passed it on to you?”
Angel puts the beer bottle down and wraps his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her ass. “Not really, I mean, not intentionally, I guess. I was an angry kid, it started in junior high, back when I was a chubby fuck. I punched a few holes in the walls, and every time they made me fix it, but that just made me angrier,” he says and looks passed her head. “I don’t know, I guess it pissed me off that they made me patch them up without really asking what was wrong? My mom tried, but—” he stops and shakes his head, “she wasn’t the one I wanted to open up to.”
“You wanted your dad,” Mia states and Angel nods, his eyes meeting hers again.
“One day I got sent home from school for fighting and my mom had to come get me. Pop wouldn’t leave the shop, said it wouldn’t matter if he did, that I wouldn’t listen to him anyway,” he continued, “maybe he was right, I don’t know.”
Mia slips her hands under his shirt, her fingers drawing endless loops and shapes on his bare skin. “What was the fight about, do you remember?”
Angel nods slowly. “They used to call EZ Kodak because of his memory. Some asshole cornered him in the bathroom, had a friend hold him down while he pushed some sleazy magazine in his face and told him to remember it because it would be the only naked girl he ever saw or some shit. I was chubby, but EZ was as thin as a fucking rail. That kid’s metabolism is no joke,” he comments with a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s reliving the memory. “I found out and took the fucker down. I remember being pulled off him and looking at EZ, he was so embarrassed. Before they took me away, he asked me not to tell, so I didn’t. I didn’t tell what the kid did to him, and the little dick didn’t fess up to what he did either, so all they knew was that I held him down and kicked his ass.”
“That… sucks. It definitely made you look bad,” Mia points out with a stink face. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m his big brother, I do what I gotta do,” Angel says easily, and she knows without a second thought he would do it again. “I expected to come home and go straight to my room or have a list of shit to do around the house. Instead, Mom brought me outside to the patio. There was this big, white canvas and a bunch of paint. She told me to paint my feelings. I thought it was stupid as fuck.”
Mia smiles, picturing little Angel looking at his mom with his ‘the fuck is this?’ expression and it’s definitely a funny image. “But you started painting?”
“I did it to just get it over with so I could go to my room, but I don’t know, it helped me get aggression out,” he admits. “My mom did religious realism, but I was super into abstract. I was throwing fucking paint around so fast my chubby ass worked up a sweat,” he chuckles at the memory. “It didn’t turn into anything, just a big shit colored blur, but it was better than punching a hole in the wall I had to fix the next day. Every time I got angry my mom had a canvas for me. I learned, I developed my own style, and I started taking classes at school. Sometimes I even watched my mom, asked her questions, and helped her a little bit. It became our thing.”
“That’s sweet,” Mia comments, her fingers now scratching at his happy trail as they often do.
Angel’s lips slowly stretch into a wistful smile. “I got real into charcoal for a while. Fuck, everything was covered in it. EZ hated it since we shared a room. My mom was annoyed because of the laundry, but she never said anything. Eventually, I settled on acrylic as my main medium. I would have so many fucking layers that it would take so fucking long to dry. I kept stealing her hair dryer to make it dry faster. She got so annoyed she bought me my own.”
“What did you do with all your work? I would like to see them, but I don’t think there is anything hanging at your place, or the clubhouse, or—”
“When she died, I quit,” Angel cuts her off. “It was our thing, and without her…” he trails off with a shake of his head, “I didn’t want to do it anymore, or be reminded of it. I stashed all my shit in the basement, it’s still there unless Pop tossed it.”
“What about her stuff?”
“It’s at the house, Pop still has a few displayed, has all her supplies exactly where she left them. I swear he turned parts of the house into a shrine. I could barely go in there right after she died and—” he falters, his voice deep and his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Um, I kept what she made for me in my old bedroom. I couldn’t look at it every day, I still can’t,” he admits. “I don’t know how Pop does it.”
Mia’s hands move to rest on his chest, rubbing softly to comfort him. “It’s okay that it still hurts, osito,” she assures him, and he drops his head while nodding. “The more you bury it, the more it hurts when it come out,” she whispers and kisses his head, her hands framing his face now.
“I didn’t—” Angel stammers and coughs to clear the knot in his throat. “EZ and I weren’t as close when we were teenagers, we had different shit going on in our lives, but I always had my ma. Sometimes I told her shit she didn’t even wanna hear, you know,” he chokes out and keeps shaking his head, but Mia keeps her hands firm. “We were closer than they know. Pop and EZ had each other, they talked all the time, but she was the person I talked to. With her gone…”
“I know,” she murmurs and kisses his forehead, his temple, anything she can while he refuses to look at her. “I’m here, mi angelito, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere,” she promises over and over, her voice soft and hopefully soothing to him. She knows he’s settled a bit when he takes one of her hands in his and opens it to kiss the palm, a silent thank you she accepts. “Did your dad or EZ ever mention anything about it? About you not painting anymore?”
Angel shrugs nonchalantly and picks his head up. His eyes are glassy, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she simply kisses each one chastely to let him know it’s okay. “EZ mentioned it a few times, but I told him to shut the fuck up and he did. I told him to shut the fuck up a lot when she died. He learned to stop pushing and I stopped giving a fuck about pretty much everything.”
“Is that why he went after the person who killed her, and you didn’t?” Mia asks, and instantly regrets it, but Angel doesn’t move or retreat into himself, even if he does tense up considerably.
His hands find her ass again, a way of comforting himself, she thinks. “EZ kept wanting it to be more than a robbery, more than just a senseless murder. It was like he couldn’t see anyone wanting to do wrong by her because she was like a saint.”
“But you could?”
Angel looks her in the eye now. “There’s a lot of evil people in the world. Our mother wasn’t spared because she was a good person. Good people get the shit end of the stick all the time. Ezekiel is the smartest person I know, but he couldn’t wrap his head around that. It ate at him. Sometimes I think if I didn’t push him away I could have helped him, stopped him, something. But I was too busy doing anything I could to not think about it, about her, what happened, that my little brother had to be the one to find her, that my father got his heart broken, and how fucking lonely I was with her gone.”
“Hey, everyone deals with shit in their own way,” Mia assures him. “EZ wanted to fix it, bring her killer to justice. You tried to ignore it because you couldn’t deal with the pain. What happened isn’t your fault, it’s not your brother’s either. And EZ doing what he did… he’s too headstrong to have let it go. It probably still would have gone down, but instead of your dad losing one son to the prison system, he would have lost two.”
Angel chuckles and licks his lips. “He lost me a long time ago. Ever since EZ was a toddler I lived in his shadow. He was the golden boy, the sports star, he was supposed to get out of here, be someone important. There were no aspirations for me, no dream to follow, it was all on EZ. He and Pop were always close, always reading shit, having these meaningful conversations that would stop as soon as I walked into the room. When EZ got locked up it was like Pop had nothing left because not only was his wife gone, but his best friend was too.”
“Angel—”
“It was the loneliest fucking year of my life until the club came to town,” he cuts her off, his hands pulling her closer. “I started to prospect as soon as possible. It’s a family, and I hadn’t had one since my mom died, and fuck, I needed something, anything, to hold on to. It wasn’t what my mom would have wanted, but I had to stop pretending things were gonna be different between me and Pop. I’m never gonna be like EZ and he never tried to understand me, even after EZ went away. Every Sunday I went to the house for dinner and we barely said five words to each other that weren’t about sports. Every holiday was a letdown. I’d stop at the shop a few times a week to check in, just to make sure he was okay. He’d give me meat and send me away.”
“What about now that EZ’s home?”
He sighs. “It’s better, I guess. He has his buddy back. Sunday dinners are more lively. He accepts the club a bit more now that EZ’s a prospect, but it’s still the same with me and him.”
“But now you have your brother back,” Mia insists, her voice hopeful.
At that, Angel smiles, and it’s real. “I do. I forgot how much I missed him, how much I love him. The MC kept me busy, but having him back, and prospecting? Sometimes I feel like we’ve never been closer.”
“At least you have that. Only child over here, remember?” she reminds him. “Bishop’s done so much for me that I can never thank him enough, but having a sibling is different. I would be in a room full of people and still feel completely alone. There’s just stuff you can’t tell your dad.”
“I asked Bishop what happened to your dad, to Valentino,” Angel confesses, and Mia’s eyebrows raise. “All he said was that he was shot.”
Mia looks down at their laps and nods. “He was. Eleven times.”
“Damn.”
She peers back up and shrugs. “The risk comes with the life, and my dad wanted to be part of the Mayans ever since Tio started it, Bishop too.”
“Wait, you call Marcus Alvarez Tio?” Angel asks, his face almost comical.
Mia can’t help but smile, even with their topic of conversation being what it is. “Yeah, I know you guys all see him as your beloved Padrino, but to me, he’s the guy who did something completely over the top at every single birthday of mine until I was, like, sixteen,” she explains, her lips still curved upwards. “I mean, when I was eight, he brought a pony to my party. A fucking pony. When I turned eleven, he got me a trampoline and put it at the clubhouse. It was broken before I turned twelve, but it was fun while it lasted.”
“Well, now I know what to ask him for my birthday,” Angel comments and she barks out a laugh. “Your pop was from Oakland?”
“Yep, born and raised. He and Bop grew up together, and what Bishop wanted my dad wanted too. They had similar backgrounds—immigrant parents, hard home lives, just not an easy upbringing. They came up together and quickly became part of Tio’s inner circle once they were patched in.”
“What happened?”
Mia moves her hands his chest and starts wringing them together. “There was some new MC trying to make a name for themselves,” she starts, and Angel’s hands make their way to hers, linking them together. “I guess they figured what better way to do that than to take out the president of the mother chapter of the Mayans?”
“Dumb fucks,” Angel swears with a shake of his head. “That shit doesn’t make you legit, it starts fucking wars.”
“Yeah,” Mia murmurs. “They were in Oakland doing business and my dad saw the windows go down. He pushed Tio to the ground and pulled out his gun. He took most of the hit. Bishop took one in the arm himself. My dad was dead within a few minutes, before the police even got there, or so I’m told.”
“I’m sorry,” Angel says quietly. “You were five, right?”
She nods. “Bishop insisted on being the one to tell me and my mom. I remember her screaming and falling to the ground, then Bishop coming over to me,” she recalls, blinking to keep her eyes clear. “He told me, and I refused to believe him. I started hitting him actually, and he had just gotten shot so even though I was five it had to of fucking hurt. Eventually he just bear hugged me until I started crying.”
“And then he stepped up for your dad.”
Mia nods. “After the funeral, I wouldn’t let Bishop leave my sight. I would throw the biggest tantrum if he left. And my tantrums weren’t just screaming and crying like other kids. I went fucking postal. I threw shit, broke whatever was in my way. I would get so worked up I made myself sick. Tio gave Bop some time off from club stuff to help me and my mom, to spend time with me so I wouldn’t turn into the Tasmanian Devil every time he left the room.”
“You know, I’ve heard you talk about Bishop raising you, what you remember about your dad, but this is the most I’ve heard about your mom,” Angel mentions. “There a reason for that?”
“There isn’t much to know about her. Personally, I think it should take more than giving birth to make you a mother, because she gave birth to me, but that’s all she ever did. She’s no mother,” Mia states.
“It was like that even before your dad died?”
“She was there? I don’t know, I mean, Bishop says she was involved, but I have no memories of it. Maybe I held onto what I remember of my dad because I knew I wouldn’t be able to make more memories. But after he died, she just spiraled. Started drinking a lot, when that stopped doing the trick she turned to pills, and then graduated to heroin by the time I was ten.”
“She never got with anyone else?” he questions, his fingers playing with hers.
“Oh, she got with plenty,” Mia assures him. “Whatever she had to do to get her fix, she did.”
“I meant, not another Mayan?” he corrects.
Mia makes a face. “The thing about my mom is, well, she’s a user. She liked being with someone in the club, the respect you got from the girls who weren’t, the looks on the street when someone knew you were an old lady. My parents don’t have this big romantic love story like yours,” she goes on. “My mom was going back and forth between my dad and Bishop before she got pregnant. She would fight with my dad then get with Bishop, when that went south she’d go back to my dad. When she got pregnant she actually didn’t know who the father was.”
“Oh.”
Mia smiles a little. “Bop used to joke that I was one of the luckiest girls in the world because most guys bail in that situation, but they fought over me. They both wanted me, and they both wanted her too. Eventually, they got a test and Valentino Flores was crowned lucky winner of the sperm race. They got married when she was six months pregnant.”
“Bish didn’t want her after?”
“He did, actually,” she answers. “But the heroin got in the way. It turns out that is my mom’s one true love, not my dad, not Bishop, and certainly not me. Bishop refused to make her his old lady until she got clean and was able to take care of me. And, with her and Bop’s history, not to mention my dad’s, no other Mayan would get with her out of respect. It kinda pissed her off because she liked being a kept woman, you know.”
“She’s still not clean now, I’m gathering,” Angel pieces together.
“Nah. She never is. The longest she’s made it is six months. Every couple years or so she comes around wanting to be with Bishop, wanting to get clean, wanting to be together ‘as a family’. He falls for it every time, but I know better. I hate it because he get his hopes up, wastes so much money putting her through rehab, getting her everything she wants when she says she’s clean, then a few weeks later she’s gone and takes everything she can with her. His cash, whatever valuables she could get her hands on. She even sold one of his guns once, one of the .45s that had the Mayan insignia on it and shit.”
“Damn,” Angel swears. “Pop and I were never close, but he was still there. I knew no matter what happened he’d bail me out of whatever jam I got myself into, that I’d always have somewhere to go, a warm meal to eat,” he goes on with a shake of his head. “I couldn’t imagine not being close with my ma. That sucks, I’m sorry.”
Mia shrugs and leans against his chest, her arms snuggled between them. “My mom needs to be the center of attention, something she stopped being when I was born. The only thing she loves as much as heroin, is herself. I was never more than dollar signs to her, the Mayans supported her because of me, and she knew it,” she exhales, content as his large, warm hands rub up and down her back. “I’ve never known different. It was Bishop who made sure I stayed in school, got me into dance classes when I wanted them, signed me up for kickboxing because he wanted me to be able to protect myself. He’s the reason I’m alive,” she admits. “Well, him and Esai.”
“Esai Alvarez Esai?” Angel asks, pulling away enough to look her in the eye.
Mia nods with a ghost of a smile on her face. “Yeah, we were raised together. I think they wanted us to be like brother and sister. I mean, we have pictures of us in the bath when we were little, but that’s not the way it went.”
“You and Esai Alvarez?” he questions, his expression dumbfounded.
“Do you know another one?” she wonders in a giggle.
“No, I just—he, I mean, he’s fucking married to the club. He’s gonna be king, you know,” he comments and pulls her back against his chest. “I’ve never seen him with the same girl for more than a couple hours.”
“That was one of our problems. I couldn’t,” she stops and sighs, “I get there are rules. What happens on a run stays on a run, he could get his dick sucked whenever I wasn’t around, that shit happens but I—I never got right with it. It’s why we were on and off for about seven years. He’d go on a run and he’d come home looking so fucking guilty and would deny it up and down, but I knew. He’d admit it, we’d break up, he’d fight to win me back, and eventually I would give in,” she goes on and shakes her head. “He was my first everything, I couldn’t let go, I wouldn’t at the time. I had only two people I truly let in my life that I knew would love me no matter what, and he was one of them.”
“Wait,” Angel says, his mind churning. “La que se escapo,” he whispers to himself.
“Oh, fuck,” Mia groans.
“You’re the tattoo on his arm, the one that got away,” he continues. “Gilly asked once, he told him to fuck off.”
“Sounds about right,” she laughs. “He got the tattoo for my birthday. My birthday, his tattoo, fucked up, right? But he didn’t get ‘the one that got away’ until we broke up for the final time. I was pissed, but—he had to do something with it. I covered mine up.”
“You had one? Of him, I mean?”
“Kind of, I had the, uh, the old lady tattoo on my arm,” she answers as she shifts to reveal her skull tattoo to him, the one that got them talking in the first place. “I covered it with the tattoo for my dads. I’d always wanted something for them, and a guy I knew said he’d be able to cover it easily enough,” she says and pulls her jacket back up. “Fuck, that pissed him off. To Sai, that meant we were really over. He refused to cover his, did that instead,” she goes on. “Told me that I would be the only woman he would ever marry, so if it wasn’t me, it wouldn’t be anyone, and so there was no reason to get rid of the tat. I’m sure he’ll get someone knocked up one day and she’ll be his old lady, and she’ll be able to accept the shit I wasn’t able to.”
“Not the life for you, huh?” Angel asks with an eyebrow raised.
“It could be,” Mia insists. “I understand being in the club, loving it, putting it above most of the things in your life, but I need to be the one thing that it’s more important than. Not that I would ever make him choose, I respect the MC too much for that, but—I need to know that I’m number one. Sai couldn’t do that, no matter how hard he tried. I realized I was trying making him into someone he wasn’t, and I loved him too much to do that,” she explains. “He really tried the last two years. He’d opt out of runs, spend every spare moment he had with me, was completely transparent, but—he would get so angry sometimes. It made him feel like I was keeping him from the club, but I wasn’t, not intentionally, I just didn’t trust him. He had too curious of a dick.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t piece this together sooner. Of course, you knew E, why wouldn’t you? And that tattoo, it’s really you,” Angel mutters more to himself than her. “I feel like a fucking idiot.”
“He got it when I turned eighteen and he asked me to be his old lady. I was so happy, I thought that things would be different, and they were for a little. Bishop was pissed off because I moved in with him, but I was eighteen, he couldn’t stop me. Of course, I was back and forth between break-ups,” she mentions as an afterthought.
“This relationship, it sounds great, by the way,” he teases.
Mia laughs a little. “When it was great, it really fucking was. When it wasn’t, we were toxic, and I didn’t see it until later. He never hit me or shit like that, Bishop would have killed him if he did, but I saw what he did as cheating, and he didn’t. It made me feel like I wasn’t enough even though he swore up and down it wasn’t about me,” she continues. “And, like you said, he’s gonna be king. There is nothing he would choose over the club, and even though I would never ask, I needed to know I meant more, but I never would. When I finally accepted that I ended it. There were a few hiccups, and it was one of the hardest things I ever did. He was my best friend, he knew every single piece of me, you know?”
Angel shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I’ve never been with anyone like that.”
“You’ve never had a serious girlfriend?” Mia asks, biting her lip when Angel’s hands roam across her ribs, his fingers brushing against her bra. “I don’t believe that.”
“I’ve had girlfriends, but never like you’re talking about. The most serious one was in high school, which sounds fucked up when you’re thirty-one,” he says, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. “But I also haven’t been looking for anything serious.”
“What happened to her?”
“Her name was Adelita. I knew her from school, we were in the same year, but I guess you could say we met at church. Mom made us go every Sunday, rain or shine, sick or healthy,” he states, but then rethinks it. “Well, if we were, like, projectile vomiting or some shit we got out of it, but that meant she had to stay home too, and we knew how much church meant to her.”
“You were pickin’ up girls at church, Reyes?” Mia teases with a rock of her hips.
“Querida, I can pick up girls anywhere,” he answers with a knowing smile. “Anyways, she helped out a lot at church, and my mom would always guilt me and EZ into helping with whatever fundraiser or cause they were involved in every few months. We were working a booth together during the end of summer carnival and I was doing more flirting than working—”
“What? I do not believe that for a second. You have to be lying—ah!” Mia stops in a squeak when Angel tickles her sides.
“It’s my love language, mi dulce, literally,” he jokes. “One minute we’re working the booth, the next my mom is there and inviting her to dinner. It just kind of escalated from there. She wasn’t my first girlfriend, but she was the first I think I actually loved.”
“You think?”
“Looking back, I think I was trying so hard to be someone I wasn’t for her. I tried to be into the things she was, I wanted to care as much as she did about everything she did, but—I think I just wanted my mom to be proud of me for something, to have something for her to gush about to her friends what was about me for once and not EZ,” he admits.
“I didn’t know your mom,” Mia states the obvious, “but I know she had things to be proud of you for. It’s easy to see how much you loved your mother, how you would do anything for her, you even shared a hobby with her. So, I know damn well she gushed about you, Angel Reyes, so you shush right now.”
Angel smiles and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”
“What happened? With Adelita?” she asks.
“Just didn’t work out. We really didn’t have all that much in common. I mean, I like helping people, I still donate to the church and to causes and shit, but spending every waking hour asking people for money, going door to door to give out pamphlets and shit? Man, I felt like I couldn’t fuck my girlfriend without getting money from someone else first,” he says, and Mia can’t help but laugh. “Besides, she went into the Peace Corps after high school and I knew that shit was not for me. We ended with no hard feelings.”
“And nothing since? No one serious?” Mia asks.
“After Mom died, I didn’t want serious. I just picked up girls to fuck ‘em. And ever since I’ve been in the club, I’ve been happy to sleep with whatever hang around was paying attention,” he answers honestly. “Besides, it takes a lot to be with someone in the club, you gotta deal with more than the average bullshit a guy puts you through.”
“Oh, I know,” she confirms.
“You also don’t know who actually wants you for you or because of the leather,” he adds on. “Like your mom, being an old lady is all some chicks want, it doesn’t matter who gets them the title.”
“So many girls hated me when I was with Esai, even after we broke up because they knew how much we still meant to each other. None of the girls understood, to them I had everything. If Esai was going to be king, I would have been queen, but being an old lady wasn’t my end goal. Being with Esai was. This one particular puta, Bianca, fuck, every time she could she was tryin’ to get her nails in him. When we broke up, she thought it was like open season. I was in more than one fight with that bitch,�� she says with a vengeful look in her eye.
“I would pay to see that shit,” Angel insists, and Mia pushes on his shoulder as he laughs. “What? I know you can fight, Bishop’s gone on about it, how many matches you won when you were in kickboxing.”
“Yeah, that’s why they guys were always quick to hold me back, they knew I could do some serious damage,” she mutters grimly. “All I wanted was five minutes alone with her, still do. She was all talk and I hate that.”
“You’re still close with E, then?”
Mia looks down, mostly out of shame. “I was. When Bop and I had our falling out I wanted away from all things having to do with the MC. I was so sick of him bailing out my mom and never taking my side with her. Esai tries to stay out of shit when it comes to my mom. He fucking hates her, but he respects Bop’s feelings about her, so he didn’t back me up. I cut him out too and haven’t had the lady balls to reach back out. This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since we broke up. I needed time away from him then to get over him, you know. That, and every time we hung out right after we ended up fucking.”
“I don’t know if I want to be in love like that,” Angel admits and starts to light another cigarette.
“Like me and E?”
“Maybe, I guess, more like my parents,” he answers before inhaling. “I saw what happens when it ends. My dad still isn’t the same, almost ten years later.”
“That’s where we differ—you don’t know if you want it, but I don’t know if I’m capable of it,” Mia confesses.
“I don’t know if I believe that,” Angel comments.
Mia’s eyebrows raise as she makes a face at him. “I loved Esai, but—I never trusted him so I never completely let myself go with him. I trust him with my life, but my heart? I barely trust myself with that shit,” she stops and shakes her head in shame. “The relationship I ended when I came out here…” she trails off and holds her face in her hands so he can't see her shame.
“Hey,” Angel pulls on her wrists softly, but they don’t budge. “Hey, talk to me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “You’re my best friend too, you never have to be afraid to tell me shit.”
“It was bad,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “It didn’t start that way, and—fuck,” she swears while trying to hold back tears, hating herself for getting so upset. “When Bishop and I had our falling out, he was brought into the fight.”
“Your ex?” he questions while finally removing her palms from her cheeks.
“Yeah, his name’s Jay—Jason, actually,” she corrects herself. “We had just started dating when my mom OD’ed, again, and we weren’t serious, but,” she stops and shakes her head, “I mentioned it when we got into it, how the guy I was dating was a normal law-abiding citizen and being there, trying to figure out what detox program to get my mom in, it shouldn’t have to be my normal, his either.”
“What did Bish say?”
“That it didn’t matter, she’s family and you do what you have to for family,” Mia recites from memory. “I said that she wasn’t my family, and she didn’t give a shit about him, and until she decided to get help herself nothing he did would matter,” she pauses to wipe at the corners of her eyes in an attempt to rid the pool of tears. “And he said he raised me better than to not care about my own mother and he was ashamed of me.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Angel coos when tears start to fall. “It’s alright, c’mere,” he murmurs while pulling her into a hug.
“He’d never said that before, that he was ashamed of me,” she manages to get out in between shaky breaths. “I’d been arrested, kept in holding cells, tried drugs I told him I never would, made so many bad decisions he found about after the fact, but he’d never said he was ashamed of me.”
“He wasn’t, he’s not,” he assures her. “You don’t hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around, the joy in his eyes, how excited her gets. He loves you more than anything, mi dulce, please believe that.”
Mia nods against his chest, sniffling. “It hurt. What he said hurt, it hurt that it felt like he kept choosing her over me hurt, that he continued to believe her and not even listen to me, it really hurt. And I wanted to make him hurt too, so I said that I was done with it all—her, him, the MC, and that I would be better off with my cookie-cutter new boyfriend who would be able to give me a normal life.”
“It was a fight, everyone says shit during fights,” Angel responds in an attempt to console her.
“Yeah, but I made good on it. I stopped going to the clubhouse, I ignored Esai’s calls and texts, I didn’t check in with Bop the way I used to. I dug my heels in, and so did he,” she sniffs. “I fucked up. I made Jay out to be like Captain America and he wasn’t, I was just so angry, and so I tried everything to make it work to prove I was right. I gave in way too much, let him make me feel like I was crazy, isolate me, and control everything, and I mean everything,” she stops as her eyes well up again. “Fuck.”
Angel holds her tighter and presses kisses against her hair, shoulders, anywhere he has access to. “I’m right here, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.
“If Bishop knew what happened between me and Jay,” Mia says while wiping her cheeks, “he would be ashamed of me, it wouldn’t just be words.”
“Why do you say that?” Angel asks after a silent moment, his voice firm, cautious.
Mia shakes her head. “Never mind, forget I said anything,” she says and makes a move to get up, but he holds her down.
“No, I ain’t forgetting shit,” he tells her. “Talk to me.”
“It doesn’t matter, okay?” Mia insists and pulls free from his hold. “I got out of it, that’s what’s important. I’m here and made things right with Bishop and, and,” she falters and looks him in the eye, “I met you. My best friend.”
“I know you want me to let this shit go, babe, but—”
“No, no buts,” she cuts him off. “I need you to trust me when I say I handled it.”
Angel takes in a deep breath and stands with her. “Alright.”
“That’s it?” Mia asks, surprised.
“We’re best friends, right? If you say you handled it, then I believe you. That’s what best friends do,” he answers. “Especially ones that sleep together.”
“See, this is why we’re perfect for each other,” she insists while wrapping arms around his middle. “We’re best friends, we trust each other, and you don’t want to fall in love while I don’t think I ever truly can. We get the fun without the responsibilities of the relationship.”
Angel smiles softly before kissing her. “Well, when you put it that way…” he trails off and kisses her again.
They are interrupted by Angel’s phone buzzing in his pocket. He tugs it out and answers it immediately after looking at the caller. The conversation is quick, one she’s heard too many times before, but understands all the same. He’s needed at the clubhouse.
“I gotta go,” he sighs, but makes no move to let her go. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Mia asks, her chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him.
“Thanks for listening,” he whispers before kissing her gently. “I haven’t—I don’t talk about my mom, it’s just something I avoid, but it felt good talking about her with you.”
“Any time,” Mia says and pushes her lips against his in a barely-there kiss. “Me and Bop talk about my dad all the time. It was hard at first, but it makes it easier, I think. It helps keep your memories too.”
He nods. “Noted. You coming to the clubhouse?” he asks as they start to make their way back through the house and to their vehicles.
She shakes her head while leaning against her car. “Nah. If you got called in that means you guys are gonna be in templo for a bit and I’m tired. I was running around with Letty all day, remember?”
Angel puts his helmet on as he nods. “That girl does tire you out. Her mouth alone never stops moving.”
“Shut up, she loves you guys,” Mia scolds him with a smack to his chest.
“I never said she ain’t family, she’s just a teenage girl. I stopped being interested in them once I hit twenty,” he replies.
“Coming from your current sex partner, that’s good to know,” she jokes in return.
“Ooh, sex partner, I love it when you talk dirty. Say it again,” Angel instructs.
“Sex partner,” Mia says in a sultry tone.
They start to move closer to kiss again, but his phone goes off. “Fuckin’ Boy Scout,” he swears and pulls his phone out and declines his brother’s phone all. “Such a fuckin’ pissant.”
“You love him. Go, they’ll start to wonder where you are,” she encourages. “Thank you, again, for my ceiling.”
Angel’s leg swings over his bike and with a kick the engine roars to life. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just made the call to get it done when you asked, remember?” he says with a wink.
Mia nods with a knowing smile and watches him pull away while berating herself for even bringing up Jay, let alone talking about what their relationship was like with Angel.
She makes a mental note. It will never happen again.
CHAPTER 4
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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years ago
Text
Yesterday: One
A/N: Hey guys so I got this idea in my head for an Angel X OC story and it kind of just took off. I hope you all enjoy as I’m really excited for this. Hopefully maybe this will help me out of the slump I found myself in. I am still working on all my other stories and hope to have at least a request and the next part of Perfect done this week. Work has also picked up for me and looks like I have a long week ahead of me so I also may not get everything I want done. Thank you all so much for everything and all the support. I love you all and hope you enjoy ❤️😘
I want to thank @starrynite7114​ and @carlaangel86​ for listening and encouraging and helping me not only on this story but all of them! Your support means the world to me 🥰. And thank you so much Twinnie for sharing the song Yesterday by Leona Lewis for the inspiration for the title of this story. The song fits so beautifully 💖
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Angel sat at the picnic table outside of the clubhouse enjoying a quiet smoke alone. It was a fairly easy day at work with no club shit to occupy his mind. He also had not heard from Adelita all day so it seemed as if it was going to be a quiet night. He could use the break but at the same time he welcomed the noise. Part of the reason he took on so much was to keep his mind busy. It was in those quiet moments when his mind wondered too much, bringing with it the pain that always came when he thought about Juliet, when he thought about his wife. 
It had been two years, five months, and three weeks since he had last seen her. It was a Friday morning. He had woken up with her in his arms like he always had, they had breakfast together, he gave her a kiss goodbye and told her how he couldn’t wait to see her that night. It was their three year anniversary. They were going to spend the evening together having a nice meal before heading to Vegas in the morning for a little get away. 
It was all so normal, so perfect. 
But then he ended up stuck on the other side of the border longer than he anticipated. He felt awful but she understood the club life and the responsibilities that came with it. He was sure she wouldn’t be upset. He left her a voicemail apologizing and promising to make it up to her and then rushed home as fast as he could. 
When he got home everything seemed fine. The lights were off and the house just as he had left it. He assumed she had just gone to bed so he carefully and quietly made his way through the house to the bedroom and undressed before slipping under the covers expecting to find her there. He was going to pull her close and she was going to flip around and snuggle into his chest.
It’s what they always did. 
But the bed was empty and she wasn’t there. He got up and searched the whole house but she was gone. Her purse was still hanging by the door, her car was in the driveway, all personal belongings were still there with no suitcases missing, and there was no damn note or signs of foul play. 
It was as if she just vanished. 
Some people said something horrible must have happened and other’s said she finally realized she deserved better than Angel and left him. Angel didn’t believe any of that. He held onto hope that she would come back, that all the searching would lead them to her, that they would find her. But they never did and eventually everyone else stopped looking, stopped hoping. 
Maybe it was time for Angel to too.
“Hey, you ready to go to Pop’s?” EZ asked, stepping in front of Angel’s gaze. 
Angel nodded getting up from his seat at the table. The brother’s tried to make it a point to go have lunch with Felipe at least once a week after EZ began prospecting for the club and the two had become busier. 
Angel was thankful that EZ was out and had decided to stick around town. Despite all the resentment towards his younger brother he still loved him more than anything. It made him feel really good when EZ told him he wanted to prospect for the club, that he wanted to be a part of something that Angel was. 
After everything that the Reyes family had been through it was just nice to have everyone together again. 
The two pulled up in front of Carniceria Reyes backing their bikes up to the curb before turning the engines off and taking their helmets off. Angel stepped off his bike when he overheard the two women’s conversation across the street as they tried to act like they weren’t looking their way. He knew they were. Someone was always looking at him and his family like they were dirty, no good criminals. 
“It’s honestly such a blessing Marisol isn’t around to see this and poor Felipe.” One of the women, probably in her fifties with a horrible Karen haircut said to her friend who looked almost like an exact copy of her as they sipped on their lattes outside the coffee shop. She was trying to keep her voice hushed as if that would matter. It didn’t, Angel already knew what so many people in this small town thought. “First his youngest kills that cop then Angel kills his wife, poor girl.” 
There were the people who thought Juliet was dead and there were the people who thought she left him but worst of all were the people who thought Angel had killed her, like he would ever do that. He never once laid a hand on her and never would. She was his soulmate, the only woman he ever loved besides his mother. The fact that anyone thought he could do such a thing to her is what hurt the most, it’s what made him feel sick. 
“Oh come on, you don’t know that.” Her friend said, trying to defend the boys. She had watched them grow up, they were good kids. Yes they were a part of the biker club now but that didn’t make them murderers. “Anything could have happened to her.”
Karen, or at least that’s what Angel was calling her sipped her coffee before meeting Angel’s eyes across the street. She looked away quickly ducking her head to respond to her friend. “Linda, everyone knows it’s always the spouse. There were no signs of foul play, no evidence. People don’t just up and vanish like that. He had to have done something to her and then buried her somewhere where no one would find her. People in those biker gangs do that shit all the time” 
Angel clenched his jaw about ready to stomp over there when EZ grabbed his arm, keeping him back. “Don’t Angel. It’s not worth it.” He understood where his brother was coming from. He hated the looks he’d get around town and the ones his brother got too. People looked down on them and it fucking sucked but they couldn’t change their opinions on them. They knew what was true and that was all that mattered. 
“We can't just let them get away with that, dragging our name through the mud and spreading their gossip. Someone has to set them straight EZ.” Angel kept his gaze on the woman across from them. He was sick of this, sick of the rumors. There was only so much he could take before he snapped again. Last time the fucker who wouldn’t shut up ended up in the hospital. “I can’t do this anymore. I didn’t fucking kill her.” 
“I know, I know.” EZ tried to calm his brother down, to be the rational voice he needed. He wasn’t here for Angel when everything went down but he was going to have his brother’s back now. Angel met Juliet while EZ was in Stockton. EZ didn’t know her well but from the visits she would make and hearing about her he knew she was a great person. He also knew how much his brother loved her and how broken he was after her disappearance. “It doesn’t matter what they think. Everyone is always going to have an opinion on what happened. Just ignore them Angel.”
“It’s not that easy Ezekiel.” Angel snapped. He didn’t mean to take it out on his brother. “You don’t know what it’s like to have everyone look at you like you’re some fucking monster, to have to hear as people whisper all the horrible things you supposedly did to the one person who you loved more than anything. Yeah so you killed a fucking cop, a dirty cop at that. That’s not the same.” Maybe it was a low blow but EZ had no idea what Angel was going through. He couldn’t know what it was like to live with the constant reminder of that night, what it was like to have his whole relationship under a microscope like it was everybody’s business. 
Angel sat in the small room staring past his reflection at whoever may be on the other side of the glass watching him. He had been in here for at least forty minutes. He was starting to get antsy as he tapped his rings against the table. Each moment wasted in here was a moment lost when he could be out looking for Juliet. 
The door finally opened as an older gentleman with grey hair in a dark suit walked into the room. Angel sat back in his chair looking the man straight on. “Mr. Reyes, I’m detective Lawrence. I’ll be working the case on your wife Juliet Reyes.” 
Lawrence took a seat across from Angel folding his hands on top of the table. “Now why don’t you tell me everything, starting from the beginning.”
“Look I’m willing to give you whatever the fuck you need to find my wife safe and alive but I don’t see why I’m here when I could be out there looking for her.” Angel said pointing to the door. 
“Just have to follow up on all leads. The best way to find your wife is to start with you Mr. Reyes.” 
“Angel.” 
“Angel.” Lawrence corrected himself. “You knew her better than anyone right? So our best shot at finding her is you.” Lawrence gave him a forced smile. Angel Reyes had a record, was a known criminal and a member of the Mayans MC. Right now he was their number one suspect if foul play happened to be involved. “So start from the beginning Angel. Friday morning was your wife acting suspicious at all? Anything out of the ordinary?” 
“No, everything was completely normal. We woke up, had breakfast like we always do and then I had to go to work early so I told her I loved her and would see her that night. She had about an hour left before work so she was going to finish grading some of her students' drawings before going in.” Juliet was a kindergarten teacher here in Santo Padre. She loved her job almost as much as she loved Angel. 
“And that was the last time you saw her that day?”
“Yeah.” 
“That night was your anniversary right? You said you had a trip planned for the weekend to celebrate?” 
“Yes. We were going to have dinner at home and leave first thing in the morning.” Angel recalled. He was so excited to have a mini vacation with Juliet. They had been trying to get pregnant for a while and were hoping a relaxing vacation would be just what they needed with all the stress in their lives. 
“But you didn’t make it home in time.” Lawrence sat back folding his hands in his lap. “Why was that?” 
“I was working, ended up being later than I anticipated. I called her to let her know. Her cell went to voicemail.” Angel had called her when he got a moment alone to tell her he’d be running late. He didn’t want her to worry about him and felt terrible about being late. They had one rule. If he was going to be doing club shit then she needed to know where he was. She was a natural worrier. He never wanted to add to her worry so he promised he would inform her of everything so she never felt blindsided. “I left a message.” 
“So it was your anniversary. How many years?” 
“Three.” Angel was starting to get testy. He didn’t see what any of this had to do with anything. 
“Three years,” Lawrence emphasized, “That’s a long time. Three years is a big deal and you bailed on her. You don’t think she’s just maybe upset? Maybe she left for your vacation herself or is with a friend.” 
“She didn’t leave. She wouldn't just leave like that.” There was no way Juliet just left him. That wasn’t like her. Plus all her belongings were there. “Why would she leave without anything? Her fucking purse and everything was still at home. No,” Angel shook his head, “She wouldn’t just leave me like that. Trust me if she was upset with me she would have let me know.” 
“Like on Thursday. We have a witness who says you and Juliet got into a little bit of a heated argument outside the school on her lunch break. What was that about?” 
Angel chuckled bitterly. He couldn’t believe this was happening right now. He was already worn out enough with worry. Now this asshole was starting down a path he hoped he sure as hell wouldn’t. “If whoever your witness is thinks what we had was a heated argument” he knew who it was. It was Brenda he was sure. She never did like him and made it well known. “I don’t want to know what they think a fight is. We got into a minor disagreement. Nothing out of the ordinary for a married couple.” Yes things got a little heated that afternoon but they had made up that night. It was none of the assholes goddamn business.
Lawrence decided to let that slide, for now. “Okay so if she didn’t leave then what happened?” 
“What else would have happened?!” Angel shouted, slamming his hands onto the table. He was over this now. “Someone must have grabbed her or something.” 
“And who would do that?” Lawrence pressed him. Angel was starting to crack. If he was going to get a confession it would be soon. “Who and how? There were no signs of a struggle. You know what that tells me?” 
“What?” Angel asked through clenched teeth squeezing his hands into fists. 
“It tells me if something did happen to her, it was someone she knew, someone close to her. Someone who she shared everything with.” Lawrence leaned back onto the table towards Angel. “Someone she trusted, who she loved enough to marry.” 
“What the fuck are you saying?” Angel’s chest started heaving as he did everything in his power to not deck this mother fucker right here and now. “You think I did something to her?” 
“Statistically speaking it's usually the spouse. Maybe you came home, she was naturally upset, things got physical. You love her. I can see that.” He was just trying to get a reaction from Angel, anything that would make him slip up. “You didn’t mean to hurt her, it just happened.” 
Angel wanted to lunge at him but instead he just stared him down never breaking the hold he had on his eyes. “I’ve never laid a fucking hand on my wife. Maybe you should look at her psychotic ex. You know the one she had to get a fucking restraining order against?” 
“Mr. Reyes, we are following up on all leads. How about you let me do my damn job?” Lawrence barked back at him. 
“Maybe I would if you were fucking doing it well. You’re wasting precious fucking time breathing down my neck when you could be out there, I could be out there!” Angel shouted, “Looking for my wife!” 
“If you weren’t home then where exactly were you? Do you have an alibi Mr.Reyes?” Lawrence asked. Angel said he was working late but he knew the scrapyard wasn’t open that late. What else could he have possibly been doing so late? Sounded like a good excuse to Lawrence. “Where were you Angel?”
Angel couldn’t exactly say where he was or what he was doing without possibly incriminating himself and the club. They were on the other side of the border doing a drug run. That did not really provide a good alibi for Angel. Angel knew he was in a real fucking tight spot. “I want my lawyer.” He wasn’t going to give them any more, especially if they weren’t going to be helping him. 
Angel sat at the table outside the Carniceria with Felipe and EZ enjoying their lunch. The sun was out only adding to the heat Santo Padre usually experienced. Angel finished his burrito wiping his mouth on his napkin and sitting back as he looked at the various shops across the street. Thankfully the two women decided to leave rather than watch the Reyes boys and their poor father. 
Sometimes Angel really fucking hated living in a small town where everyone knew everyone. 
“So EZ tells me you have a date tonight,” Felipe spoke, gaining Angel's attention. 
“Yep,” Angel said. He didn’t really have much to say about it. Quite frankly he had debated bailing more than once but he wouldn’t do that to Sierra. Gwen, Juliet’s best friend and partner in crime had been trying to set him up for months now insisting that he should move on, that that’s what Juliet would want but he just never could. Now EZ had joined in with trying to play matchmaker. Eventually Angel gave in agreeing to one date but nothing more. 
Sure he had been with other women, mostly just sex with the girls from Vicky’s but that was different. The sex was meaningless, a way to fill the empty void inside him, but an actual date that meant something more. Going on a date symbolized the start of something new, a future for him without Juliet. It felt like if he took this next step he’d be giving up on her and any hope that she was coming back.
But it has been two years now. Was it really so wrong for him to try to move on?
“How come you never dated after mom?” Angel asked Felipe. It was a question that had been on his mind, especially after he experienced a similar loss to his father.
“Your mother was the love of my life and still is,” Felipe told his boys. He didn’t often talk about Marisol to his sons. Even eight years later it was still hard but Angel needed to hear this. “It just never felt right but you’re still young Angel. You have the chance to start over, to have a family of your own. Juliet would want that for you.”
Everyone was constantly telling him what Juliet would want like they would know. The thing is they didn’t know. No one knew her like Angel did. They shared everything, told each other things they’d never tell another soul.
They were soulmates. 
But maybe this time they were right. Maybe this was what she wanted. 
Angel checked himself out in the full length mirror on the closet in his bedroom. He was wearing a green plaid button up and his best pair of black jeans. He felt weird standing here in his bedroom getting ready for a date with someone that wasn’t his wife. He didn’t know exactly how to feel but he knew this was the right time to start. He’d never feel completely ready. It was just something he had to do, to rip the band-aid off and get back out there. 
“I always loved that shirt,” He could hear Juliet saying, could see her standing behind him in the mirror. “It’s okay baby. I’m gone and I’m not coming back. You deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy.” She smiled, the one that shined so brightly reaching all the way to her eyes, the one that always made him feel lighter. 
This is what she would want.
He took a shaky breath, smiling as he fixed his hair up quickly. He would do it for her. He would do anything for her. With a spritz of his cologne he gave himself one last once over before heading out to the living room where his audience was waiting. “Well, how do I look?” He asked, holding his arms out. 
“Like an ass in a green shirt,” EZ grinned from his spot on the couch. Angel flipped off his brother while Serena, Gwen’s five year old daughter whacked EZ on the arm. 
“Hey you be nice to uncle Angel!” She shouted defending her favorite Uncle. Angel and Juliet were her godparents and spent a lot of time helping out as much as they could with Serena after her father bailed on her and Gwen. It wasn’t difficult, they both fell in love with the little girl instantly. The time they spent watching her grow up is what pushed them to start thinking about a family of their own. Angel only wished Juliet was here to see the sweet little girl Serena had grown into. 
“Thanks princesa” Angel chuckled, leaning over and pulling her into a hug as she jumped off the couch and into his arms. 
“I think you look beautiful.” She mumbled into him as she squeezed her little arms around his neck. 
Once Serena pulled away from the embrace Angel stood up meeting Gwen’s smile. She stood up off the couch coming over to Angel and straightened out his shirt that her daughter had now wrinkled up. “The most beautiful man,” she teased, smoothing out the last of the wrinkles. “You look great Angel. This is going to be good for you.” She knew Angel had doubts about dating but he couldn’t go on like he was. She loved her best friend more than anything but Juliet wasn’t coming back. If she was alive out there somewhere she would have at least contacted Gwen somehow. That told her that chances were she wasn’t alive. 
Angel became like family to her. She came to love him just as much as Juliet. They were family. After Juliet disappeared they became each other’s rock through the hard time. They both lost the most important person in their lives. It was good to have someone who could really relate to what they were going through.
“It’s time.” Gwen smiled up at him giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“You look good Angel.” EZ joined the three giving Angel a hug. They were all here for Angel. This was a big step he was taking. “Now you better get going before you are late. That wouldn’t look very good for your first date.”
“Right.” Angel nodded. He didn’t need to be late on his first date and he had one stop he had to make before he went. He gave them all a smile ruffling Serena’s hair before he headed for the door. 
“Wait!” Serena called out chasing after him. Angel turned around taking the small tin she extended out to him. “They’re mints so your breath doesn’t smell icky with smoke.” 
Angel shook his head chuckling. Serena was honest for sure and always made her displeasure with his smoking known. “Thank you.” He leaned over kissing her forehead before heading out.
On his way to his date at the bowling alley he stopped at the playground just a few blocks away from Santo Padre Elementary. Angel made his way over to the swing set on the far north side of the park. The park was one of three around town this one being the biggest one. 
Angel took Juliet here for their first official date and after that night under the stars it became their spot. It was here where she first started letting her walls down around him. She came to Santo Padre to stay with Gwen after escaping her then husband, James. 
That night she told him a little about James. From that day on Angel wanted to kill that asshole and swore to her and himself he would never treat her as such. With him she would always be safe. He only wished he was able to keep her safe as he had promised. 
Angel sat on the swing he used to push her in twisting his wedding band around his finger. He smiled to himself remembering the carefree feeling being here together always brought. It was the little things between them. They didn’t have much but as long as they had each other they would be set for life. 
“Fuck I miss you Jules.” Angel sighed, swinging lightly back and forth. “I miss you so fucking much. I’m lost without you. You were my everything. I’m not ready to let you go, not fully, but I have to do something. You’d want me to move on, right?” He looked up at the pink sky as the sun set. Sunset’s were always her favorite thing. Juliet loved sitting outside watching the colors of the sky change before the darkness took over and the stars began shining. 
“I love you, mi amor,” he murmured as he slipped the band off his finger. “This isn’t goodbye, just see you later. You’ll always hold my heart but it’s time. It’s been long enough.” Angel ran his hand through his hair trying to calm the growing ache in his chest. “You aren’t going to come back, I know that. I just hope wherever you are you’re resting easy. We’ll meet again.” Angel brought the wedding ring to his lips giving it a kiss before he slipped it into the pocket of his kutte above his heart. “I can’t wait to see you again.” 
****
The guy’s were all hanging around outside the clubhouse the next day towards the evening. They just got back from a short run and were enjoying a nice smoke and beer before heading home just enjoying each other’s company. 
“So?” Gilly nudged Angel’s shoulder with his beer wiggling his eyebrows.
“So what?” Angel asked, giving him a look. 
“How’d the date go?” They were all wondering how it went but were waiting for Angel to bring it up himself which so far he had yet to do. 
“Alright,” Angel shrugged, taking a swig of his beer. 
“Just alright?” Creeper asked from over at the picnic table. “That’s all we’re going to get?”
“What, you guys want to hear all the details like we’re a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party?” Angel mocked them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share there just was not much to share. They hung out for a couple hours, talked a little and then said their goodbyes. There was no spark or anything making Angel want another one. At least not with her. 
“Did you at least get good head or something?” Coco asked, leaning his back against the table. “I heard Sierra gives great fucking head.” He chuckled along with the others.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Angel laughed with them. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” 
“Really? Does that mean there’s not going to be a second date?” 
“No second date.” Angel admitted. “We just didn’t click.” She just wasn’t Juliet. “She’s free game.” 
“Well I’m proud of you hermano, for putting yourself back out there.” Coco said, raising his beer up in a toast to his brother. They all took a drink for Angel. It was a big step, one they thought he may never take. They were glad to see Angel at least trying.
“Fuck. Now that Angel’s back in the game we’re all going to have to step up our game.” Gilly commented.
“Like you had any game to begin with,” Angel teased, laughing with the guys. 
Bishop came out of the clubhouse looking for Angel. He just got off the phone with one of their brothers from another charter with information that would change everything. He smiled watching the guys joke around and laugh. Working with the cartel added extra stress to the men. They didn’t have as many light moments as these.
“Angel,” Bishop called out from the top of the steps. “Can I have a moment?” 
“Sure thing Prez,” Angel called back, releasing Gilly from the headlock he had him in now. He gave Gilly a pat on the back before following Bishop into the clubhouse and to Templo. 
Bishop stood by Angel’s chair. “You might want to take a seat for this brother.” Bishop’s face was dead serious making Angel’s smile drop instantly. Angel did as was suggested as his mind began racing. His first thought was somehow Bishop found out about his deal with the rebels but then he figured he wouldn't be here if that was the case.
“What’s going on Bish?” Angel asked cautiously. Whatever it was he had a feeling it was not going to be good. 
“I just got a call from one of our brothers in Arizona,” He started sitting down as well. “It’s about Juliet.” They had eyes out for her even after all these years. Until they had some solid evidence of what happened to her Bishop wasn’t going to give up. Juliet wasn’t just Angel’s wife but a part of the family. They all hurt when she went missing and they all felt for Angel and all the pain he endured the last two years. “Two hunters found her in Prescott National forest.” 
Angel’s heart stopped. He knew this day would come eventually but he wasn’t ready for it so soon. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to believe it. Thinking she was dead and knowing were two very different things. With just thinking there was at least a sliver of hope that she could be alive and well out there. Angel stood up from his chair. He couldn’t hear this. “I can’t Bish.” 
He went to leave when Bishop caught him by the arm. “She’s alive, Angel.”
Angel must have misheard. He turned back around, his face scrunched up. “What?”
“She’s alive. She’s in the hospital up there. I guess she took a bit of a tumble.” Bishop said recalling all the information he was given. “They are going to have a couple of the guys posted there until you get there.” 
“She’s alive?” Angel still couldn’t believe it.
“She’s alive,” Bishop grinned, pulling Angel into a tight hug. Bishop pulled back holding the back of Angel’s head doing the best to keep his own tears at bay as the younger man’s tears fell off his lashes. “You go get your wife and you bring her home.”  
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rhapsodyhills · 4 years ago
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Mayans M.C S3 EP06 Reaction
 “You Can’t Pray a Lie”
Here’s my episode reaction that no one asked for that I forced myself to write because none of my friends watch Mayans M.C., and I needed to get all my opinions out somewhere. 
 so Spoilers below cut
Not gonna lie, this episode was probably my favorite episode of this season so far. I just feel like with each episode, we’re seeing more and more of everyone’s backstory and relationships, which I honestly value way more than the drama. 
So, first, Gaby and EZ are so fucking cute. I was kind of skeptical of Gaby because she is literally so fucking sweet, and you know that good characters   are undercover cops, or they’re gonna die. I saw someone on twitter say that Gaby was a cop, but I honestly do not see it at all. I feel like there was way too much shit with her parents and the other gang for all that to have just been some sort of set up to get EZ to trust her. I was also very annoyed with her reaction to EZ’s PTSD, but she’s good in my book for now.
So, Bishop. This episode was really hard because Bishop, surprisingly, became one of my favorite characters (my faves are ranked EZ, Angel, Bishop, then Coco. honorable mention to Chucky and Taza). I’m glad we get to see more of him and his background, but fuck. I also just realized what that tattoo on his arm was, and that literally made me so much sadder. I can’t imagine how he feels, especially when Antonia seems to have moved on with her new wife and child and he’s still in the past all alone, and trying to get past it but also keep the memory of his child alive ? I just hope Bishop gets a fucking love interest because he literally has no one and he’s gonna slip when he learns about Coco’s drug use and what Taza did. He’s already reeling from Alvarez. (Also, on Alvarez, he either needs to be in Mayans business or not cause he can’t just pick sides when he wants. I get that the Mayans are still his shit, but you can’t make decisions like he did without knowing only one side) Let’s hope Bishop gets some pussy and love because his ass needs and deserves it. 
Next, Angel. I’m not gonna lie, Angel was definitely serving up some guard dog/ protective dad teas in this fucking episode and I loved it. Angel’s ass literally snapped on so many people, even Bishop, when he saw no one was doing shit to make things even. When he called Nestor a french- braided little bitch (i think that’s what it was) I was fucking crying. 
Side note: I’m glad Nestor finally abandoned them damn grandfather frames, he looks so much better without them. 
The hospital scene where Gaby walks in and the club leaves, and Taza says hi, was so heartwarming for no reason at all. Taza seems like such a warm person (besides when he suffocates his friends in the name of payback) and him saying hi to Gaby when everyone else just stared at her, was so nice. (I like the most simplest shit when it comes to character interactions and that’s an issue) Also, Angel thanking Gaby was so sweet.
(Does anyone else know why the guy that tried to kill EZ got hit with a car ? Was that like a random driver reacting to him just randomly running into the street?)
Anyway, I love when Angel rages, (” you can’t smoke in here” *pulls out gun*) so I enjoyed every scene with him in it. I saw on Twitter that someone says he is finally being a good brother, and maybe I’m dense but I always thought he was a good brother, he just holds heavy resentment towards EZ and his dad for how they made him feel inferior. I honestly think that I get Angel because of how I feel living with my mom and my brother (who have the most annoying form of libra solidarity that always paints me as the angry scorpio, but that’s enough on that). 
On the topic of zodiacs, I honestly expected Coco to be an Aries, but knowing he’s a virgo, makes so much sense. He reminds me a lot of all the virgos I know: thoughtful, chaotic, funny, always preaching some bullshit about philosophy.
I honestly think that if Hope and Coco get clean and escape this cult shit, they could actually be a really cool couple. They’re both very philosophical and deep thinking people that could probably go hours talking about shit like conspiracies or the meaning of the fucking universe.
I kind of see Hope and Gaby being old ladies (do the Mayans even call the wives/ gfs that ?) to Coco and EZ. I honestly just think that EZ and Gaby look so good together, and balance each other out so well (if she could just be a tiny bit more sensitive to his PTSD), that I don’t want them to break up. Maybe it’s because I don’t see an end to them that doesn’t result in EZ being fucking destroyed. And Gaby is like the cutest person ever. I think that if the writers do make her a regular, they would probably make it so over time, Gaby loses her sweetness and turns bad or kinda numb. This girl has been on the show for like what six episodes, why am I already so fucking invested in her character?
Also, someone said that Gaby and EZ remind them of Tara and Jax. Please, no.
Anyway, this shit is getting long so lemme wrap it up.
Emily’s face when she saw Gaby, was fucking amazing. Her realizing she’s not gonna always have EZ was such a great moment. And, “You’re very pretty.”, girl what ? Bishop is kinda wild for what he said to Antonia, but I get his emotional turmoil and how he feels like the last of his family is leaving him. EZ taking Gaby to the beach for the first time ? Love that. And the phone call between EZ and Felipe was so emotional and spoke a lot of words without speaking .. a lot of words. The Minnie and Adelita reunion was so heart warming and Adelita saying they need to be prepared has me worried for whatever tf she’s gonna do.
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blue-angel-wings · 4 years ago
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Bishop Drabble - take your times
18+ (because I got a little nasty for a brief moment hehe)
Characters: Bishop Losa x Reader (Y/N), basically all the Mayans briefly but mainly Angel, Coco, Gilly.
Summary: Reader is a single mum and close with the Mayans specifically Bishop, because they crushing on each other. And Emily Galindo being a bitch because I don’t like her 😊.
Warnings: Cursing, horny talks but not full blown smut, slight talk of injuries.
Word count: 3,768 it’s longer because I got carried away 😈
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You had known the Mayans since you were little, although your Father wasn’t a patch he always helped them.
As a day job your Father owned a small car dealership and would often frequent Romero scrap and salvage for odd pieces to use on whatever new vehicle he was working on, but behind the calm face of a man who liked cars and bikes, was a trained assassin, murder for hire, hitman, whatever you wanted to call it. So over time your Dad did jobs for the Mayans. Through that they met you and whilst your Mother didn’t really like the Mayans knowing your family she had to admit it was useful always having a group of knights in shiny leather to hand.
Your father had been killed one a run with them when you were sixteen years old, and ever since then the club had take your Fathers place with you and your mother. She worked the bar sometimes and whilst you chose to work elsewhere you always attend the parties, well as much as you could whilst also being a single parent. At the age of eighteen you became a mother to a beautiful baby boy you lovingly named Rio. The guys were shocked but supportive and excited for the new little baby in their lives. The Dad of your son decided that a baby wouldn’t work for him so he ran. Not like you needed him.
Yours and Bishop’s relationship had only just started, you had been on a few dates but you spoke constantly and you may have slept with him on a few occasions, because who could resist a man like that. He had started to find you attractive once you showed up more. For your safety and now Rio’s your Mother kept you away from the guys until you were in your twenties, so when you turned twenty one and could legally drink you knew exactly where you were going to get wasted for the first time. The clubhouse.
Ever since Bishop saw you in a tiny black dress that made your body just look too good he knew we wanted you but stayed back not wanting to look like a perv who only dated girls half his age. He admired you for years, how you raised Rio somewhat alone, how you always helped the club without a complaint, how you deeply cared for the guys and he just couldn’t helped that he fell for you more and more.
But he was done waiting and at Rio’s eighth birthday party, whilst you stood there playing nice with the other parents from the prestigious school you sent Rio to, and whilst wearing jeans that Bishop swore were painted on, he asked you out.
You thanked the heavens he did because you were getting sick of the waiting game.
A few months had passed and although you had been on dates, Bishop was yet to ask you to be his. It was almost like he was still scared that you would reject him. During the day he was almost shy around you not saying much or interacting with you as much as you hoped almost like he feared he would say or do something wrong, but at night he’d have you shaking in ecstasy on a bed drenched with your arousal, whilst whispering the nastiest shit you’d ever heard.
You didn’t think too much about it you knew he loved you deep down he was just struggling to say it, he had no problem showing it through his actions and you saw the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. But saying the words that would make you his girl officially, he just couldn’t manage do that.
At Rio’s birthday he had been gifted a skate board. A small red plank of wood you swore would be the end of your son. And although Angel had also purchased a helmet to go with it, your son seemingly refused to wear it. He constantly rode it without the helmet no matter how much you asked him to, it was like he was allergic.
You had taken the board away once he started to show zero regard for himself and others. Swerving through people on the sidewalk was okay if it was quiet and people moved out the way in time, but once he started heading towards the roads without his helmet you called time on his little Tony Hawk phase.
A few weeks passed before he grew restless and bored without it. He had come looking for you with full safety gear on, helmet, knee pads, elbow pads and little gloves. And you cracked, you gave him back his death board and sent him on his way.
Rio’s school was just out of Santo Padre and about 45 mins away from your home, it was a bit of nuisance being so far from you but your son was smart, too smart. He had eidetic imagery or as some would say photographic memory. He had shown signs when he was little, about 4 or 5, when he was able to recall in perfect detail his toys as if they were still there in front of you. It was terrifying to you but when the doctor explained what it was you were stunned. Due to his abilities you sent him to a school that burned a whole in your pockets each month but was perfect for your little boy. He loved it, he excelled at all subjects aced every test and had a big group of friends that were surprisingly pleasant children.
The Mayans clubhouse was only twenty minutes away from Rio’s school. And when work had started to get busier, you couldn’t pick him up from school anymore. You generally finished worked at the boutique in town at 4:30 an hour after Rio had finished school, you hadn’t given him a key to the house out of fear he would lose it, so you suggested he’d ride his board to the clubhouse and then once you were done you would pick him up. It worked out great, the guys loved having him there and you got to see Bishop more.
The guys were just chilling at the club, the younger ones were playing poker and smoking whilst the elders were in templo.
‘What the fuck prospect!?’ Slamming his cards on the table in a frenzy, Coco practically threw his money at the chuckling Ezekiel who in return shook his head at the snipers antics.
‘Not a prospect anymore bro, imma patch now.’ He said smugly, pointing lazily at the patch on his kutte.
‘Keep taking my money and I will change that real quick.’ Coco was pissed, he owed Ez about $300 from just this afternoon alone.
At the front porch Angel and Gilly were working the yard when they heard the slight rattling of small wheels of the stones, lifting their heads just in time to see the arrival of Rio on his board. They had to admit when they purchased the board for him they were worried he’d be crap at it and give up, but we wasn’t. The guys sometimes rode behind him on their bikes just to watch his skate. It was mesmerising.
Happily finishing up their work, Angel nudged Gilly towards the clubhouse to tell the others of your son’s arrival.
‘Hey, Rio’s here.’ The larger man bellowed into the space causing the other Mayans to stop what they were doing and follow him out.
Outside Angel had Rio swinging from his neck, when Rio was around the Mayans he deliberately acted younger to get more attention, the guys didn’t do anything to stop him they enjoyed him acting all silly and somewhat babyish, it stopped the sad truth of him getting older right before their eyes from rising to the surface.
‘Hey little guy, how was the ride in?’ El presidente asked the boy whilst messing with his hair, that he spent hours getting perfect for school.
Bishop was closest to Rio, well joint with Angel. Rio saw Bishop as a father figure, much to your delight, and Angel as a brother figure.
‘It was okay, some car was following me really closely and honking at me.’ He pouted whilst spinning the wheels on his board.
The men perked up at the sound of somebody pestering the young boy.
‘ I don’t know why though, mama says I can ride in the road if I stay to the side out of the way with my helmet on.’ Rio didn’t seem to be upset, more worried he was defying your rules of riding his skateboard.
‘Well, what did the car look like?’ Creeper asked whilst blowing the smoke from his cigarette behind him, being mindful of the small child in front of him.
‘A black Lexus RX Hybrid, black tinted windows, driver was a middle aged male, bald, tattoos up his arms.....’ the boy rambled on, his memory working overtime. The guys stopped him mid way through not wanting him to worry himself with the stranger who was bothering him. They assured him he did nothing wrong and took him into clubhouse.
None of the other guys recognised description of the car or driver, but Ez did. He knew who was sat in the back of the vehicle, whilst they texted him and continued to call upon him every waking second of the day. He heard the sound of a car coming to a halt at the front of the scrap yard, he knew this was the car that was following Rio plus he saw the man Rio had described in great detail. He glanced at his phone to check if his suspicions were true. His screen was flooded with notifications of texts and calls, and some social media notifications, all from the same person.
Emily Galindo.
She had been contacting Ez, at first he didn’t mind the contact from his ex, he selfishly used to want the relationship to rekindle with the married woman, but now with Gabby in his life he didn’t, he wanted her gone. She nodded to his trailer, with a pleading look is her eyes he succumbed to her request, checked nobody was around and headed to his trailer.
‘Do you have any Capri-Suns i’m kinda thirsty?’ Rio asked, cheekily checking behind the bar for something to eat hoping one of guys would fulfil his request. Bishop smirked reached into the fridge round the corner and retrieved two orange Capri-Sun pouches and grasped the bag of Doritos they kept on top of the fridge for him to munch on as well.
‘How’s school going mate?’ Bishop genuinely enjoyed talking with Rio because he reminded him of you, he much like yourself, was so passionate even over the little things.
Bishop played with Rio’s discarded school tie, folding it neatly knowing you hated ironing it.
‘It was alright, we learning about dinosaurs in science which is cool cos I really like Jurassic park and I’m gonna ask mama later if we can watch it.’ Rio exclaimed loudly waving his hands around wildly. He continues to tell Bishop about school, avoiding telling him about the masses of homework that was set knowing the older man would tell him to do it and wouldn’t drop it until it was done. The conversation was interrupted by Angel who had just got finished on a call.
‘Hey Rio, your Mum just called saying she got caught up at work and won’t be picking up til 5.’ The oldest Reyes told the child who was seemingly unbothered by the change of plans, but the news had Bishop frowning, why didn’t you call him, you knew he didn’t have Templo today so he would have his phone on him?
‘Okay, can I go practice my kick flips out front?’ He asked the president.
‘Yeah sure, take one of guys to watch you incase you fall, and remember to map out where your skating with the cones.’
‘Yeah I think I can remember that.’ He teased the older man, by referencing his condition.
The guys had bought these little orange cones for him to use when he was skating in the yard so he didn’t get in the way of them working.
Bishop lightly shoved him in the direction of the door with a shake of his head, he needed to call you, the jealously he felt when you called Angel instead of him was growing unbearable. Was it Angel stretching out your tight little pussy each night? Was it Angel that had you screaming with his head between your legs? Was it Angel that you called Daddy? Was it Angel that had you making the most delicious moans?
No it wasn’t, it was Bishop.
So why weren’t you calling him?
It was 5:30 when you pulled up to the scrap yard to retrieve your child. You surveyed the grounds looking for Rio once you had parked. But when you were greeted with the noise of laughter, you opted to follow that. Turning off your car you headed to the front porch where a groaning Coco was laying on the floor clutching his arm. You walked over not too worried seeming as the sniper had sustained worse injuries than a scrape on the arm.
‘You okay there Coco baby?’
You squatted beside the man and glanced as the injury on his arm, there wasn’t more that’s a slight graze on his elbow however from he noises he was now making you’d think he’d been shot.
‘No! This piece of sh-‘ you clapped a hand over this mouth before he could finish once you realised that the giggling you heard earlier came from your son, who sat comfortably in Gilly’s lap at the bench a few feet away. Standing up, leaving Coco to get on with it, you walked over to your son to kiss his forehead.
‘You okay baby? School was good?’
‘Yeah it was good we are doing dinosaurs in science so I was wondering if I can watch Jurassic park tonight to learn more about T-rex’s, please? ‘ he pleaded with both hands clasped together.
‘Of course baby.’ You went to say more but you saw Bishop on the step, looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
You knew why though, in an attempt to push Bishop to ask you to his girl you messed with him a little by deliberately calling Angel instead of him to inform the guys of the change of plans. Normally you wouldn’t mess with the man who so clearly had control of the reigns in the relationship but you were sick of waiting, you wanted him and he wanted you, the hickies on your breasts and inner thighs confirming that.
You kissed Rio’s head and Gilly’s, once he jokingly pointed to his forehead, and headed towards Bishop. He turned without a word and heard towards the clubhouse, the guys waited a few minutes before following suit, not wanting to miss the potential start of your long awaited romance. Rio was left alone to skate outside after he said he wanted to practice a little more, Angel was happy to leave him out there alone knowing he could ride perfectly fine.
Bishop sat on a couch in the far corner and when you went to sit next to him he grasped your wrist and manoeuvred you onto his lap, well this is a good start you thought.
‘How was work?’ He asked whilst sneaking a peek at your cleavage that you pushed up slightly before you left work.
‘It was good, busy which is good. A little tired and my feet hurt.’ You answered, slightly wriggling your feet. Bishop caught on quickly, removing you shoes and and starting to rub your feet slightly, causing a slight moan to slip from your lips.
‘Y/N I want to ask you something.’
Here it comes, you acted calm almost ignorant to what he was saying but inside you were screaming.
‘I really like you and I love spending time with you, you make me feel like a little kid with his first crush. You’re my first thought in the morning and last thought at night. I wanna be with you always and forever, so i was won—‘
‘Hey!’
Bishop’s monologue was cut short by a small voice you recognised to be your son’s. Every head in the clubhouse turn so quickly you feared they all get whiplash.
Grabbing your shoes and placing them haphazardly on your feet you all but sprinted to the front porch, where the now female voice could be heard.
Running out you saw your son sat on the floor fighting back tears and Emily Galindo standing over him slightly. She obviously was leaving Ez’s trailer, because that’s what married women do, they meet with their ex’s in trailers behind their husband’s back.
‘Hey baby you okay, are you injured?’
You rushed to your sons side as well as Bishop, who carefully picks up Rio’s skate board that was currently sporting a large crack in the middle of the wood.
‘No, I’m okay mama.’ He whispered growing embarrassed at the crowd around him, his bottom lip started to tremble telling you that tears where only moments away. Bishop started brushing the hair off of Rio’s face to calm the young boy, he too knew Rio hated crying in front of crowds.
‘What happened sweetheart?’ You spoke quietly not wanting to blow up too much in front of your son, you’d had a long day at work and you didn’t have time for a confrontation today. You wanted this sorted so you can go back to Bishop and then go home.
‘He wasn’t watching where he was going!’ The blonde woman spoke, the venom in her voice unnecessary in this situation.
‘I wasn’t fucking talking to you!’ Apparently you did have time today. All heads snapped to you and Gilly managed to scoop Rio into his arms before you whipped yourself in front of the culprit of your son’s upset.
‘So that warrants you to push him!? A small, eight year old child!? Did you not see the cones hun? They are bright fucking orange, maybe if you lifted your head of your ex’s dick for a moment you would see my son skating out here.’ The guys were loving it, watching with smirks on their faces.
‘Somebody should’ve been watching him.’
‘Hah okay sweetheart.’ You scoffed, you worked in retail you could handle opportunists like Emily Galindo.
‘I’m hardly gonna take parenting advice from you, am I? Mrs Galindo.’ You emphasised her name in the hopes she’d remember her marriage and start acting like a wife.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Well you’re hardly mother of the year, not after your practically gave your son away to a terrorist.’ You weren’t backing down, gasps were heard throughout the yard, the hang-arounds emerging in the hopes of a fight.
‘Thats not fair, they were armed and I was terrified.’ She tried to reason with you, who would try to rationalise their son’s kidnapping?
‘See that’s the difference between you and me, Emily, see they would have to pry my son from my cold, dead hands.’
‘They were shooting people right in front of me!’
‘I’d let them shoot every motherfucking bitch in this town before they ever laid a hand on my child!’
You screamed in her face, women like Emily didn’t deserve the love or attention they received.
‘I just hope his four nannies that actually raise him coped alright during that time.’ That was it, the final straw. She raised her hand but you never cowered, she went to slap you but al she could do is try. You got there first taking the board from Bishop’s hands and slapping her in the stomach, so it’s not as obvious as a face injury, you didn’t fancy having the cartel on your ass.
She doubled over in pain and screamed, clutching her ribs. You didn’t hear a crack but you knew it mustn’t of ickled.
‘Ez take the whore back to her car, tell the driver the pain is due to her period that’s just started, and it’s nothing to worry about.’
Ez nodded and quickly moved Emily from the scene, not daring to speak a word incase he got the same treatment.
You spun around and thanked heavens that Gilly had taken Rio inside, although you knew the Mayan would be pissed that he missed the altercation.
‘Damn Mamas you got some claws!’ Taza was the first to break the silence, beaming at you and your display of violence. You pulled into his embrace and chuckled.
‘Yeah it was kinda hot seeing you all angry’
Of course Coco was the one to turn it into a dirty joke. All the guys gathered round you and starting joking about you joining UFC.
But one man was quiet, too quiet. Bishop was yet to move a muscle let alone say anything, you worried it was too much and that your outburst made him change his mind.
The guys followed your eyes to the president behind them.
‘Let’s go inside and check on Rio, yeah guys?’
Riz encouraged the guys to move, catching on that you needed a moment alone with their president.
‘Bishop I’m so sorry about that, I just freaked when I saw Rio on the floor, I know this probably fucks things up with Galindo. And I get it if you take back what you said inside, it’s just I—‘ you were stopped short by a pair of lips on yours, you took a few seconds or realise they were Bishop’s, you moved your lips in sync with his and after what felt like a lifetime you pulled away for air.
‘I guess I gotta make you mine to watch over you now. Can’t have to terrorising the streets with the this can I?’ He joked whilst holding up Rio’s now fully snapped board
‘You still wanna be with me after that?’
‘Yeah I do because I’m in love with you.’
You melted right there on the spot, you laughed a little at your previous panic.
He leant in close to whisper in your ear
‘Plus Coco was right, it was fucking hot.’
You groaned and palmed his chest playfully. You finally had it, a perfect little family, it was about time. You went back to kissing Bishop and at this moment nothing could go wrong.
‘Hey, my board! What the hell Mom!’
Taglist: @mayans-sauce @one-shot-plus-size
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