#Mayans fx

[artsninspo]

"Best-friends"

plot: Best friends shouldn't have steamy dreams of each other. they shouldn't be the subject of each other's daydreams. they shouldn't be jealous when you flirt with other ... or should they? Angel's your best friend, but lately you've been pulling away in order to understand your growing feeling for your oldest friend. Feeling the distance angel stops by making all your feelings a little more real.

pairing: angel reyes x Reader

warnings: sweet 🥰 & steamy 🌶️

word count: 2.1K

authors note: hi, so I promised a draft purge months ago this is a little mayans imagine i've had for awhile for Angel, are we team Angel or EZ? Or both?

Masterlist

*************************************

You guess the saying is true, men and women can’t be friends without one of them catching feelings. Unfortunately, this time it’s you who’s been bitten by the bug. You and Angel have been friends for so long it feels like he’s always been a part of your life. So much so that your family knows and welcomes him. You weren't always as close as you are now but in the past six months you’ve found yourself thinking about him more than usual. Stealing looks while he laughs, getting a little jealous when he flirts with the girls around the club and missing him more than you should when he goes on runs. Instead of leaning into it you've been trying to pull away and get a grip on ballooning emotions. In true Angel fashion he’s shown up anyways to complete a project you asked him to do since last month. You hand him a glass of fresh lemonade and he takes it wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I'm starting to think this friendship is unequal,” he huffs, taking another sip. You smile looking at the fruits of his manual labour. He’s built you two bookcases in the past hour. Aside from your need for a place to house your hobby, there's a benefit to having Angel performing the task in his wife-pleaser, slightly sweaty, muscles bulging as he lifts the heady wood, searching through piles of brackets, bolts and screws assembling them. His arms, his hands, his attention. Swallowing you look away from him trying to get a grip…

“You do the physical labour and I do the intellectual” you smile tapping the wood.

“Hmm, that’s how this works?” he asks looking up as he slides another shelf into place.

“Yup” you smile “Looks good”

“Where do You want them?” He asks standing. He’s substantially taller than you.

“Over there” you point. He moves them into place without struggle, looking down you find they're on wheels.

“You change your mind too much. I’m not gonna put my back out” he huffs in his angel way and you flip him off playfully.

“While my indecision marinates, my mom wants to know if you want to stay for dinner?” you ask.

“I thought we were going out to eat later?” he asks, raising a brow.

“You know how they are about home cooked meals versus spending money and eating out” you roll your eyes and he smiles.

“Why don’t we eat here then and hangout after?” He offers.

“Ok” you smile and repeats it mockingly in your exact tone. He’s missed you. You hadn't been around lately and it was grating on his nerves. He’d stay up late sometimes staring at the ceiling wondering if there was someone else you were spending your time with. He’d even woken up in cold sweats from nightmares of seeing you out with someone else.

You end up at Angels where you spend almost as much time as you do at your own home. It’s in desperate need of decoration and a feminine touch. He wouldn’t even have cookware and dishware if it weren't for you.

“Come on, the sick shit is about to start” he calls like a big kid from the couch. You smile relishing in the moments where he’s unguarded and animated. Where the smile overtakes the intimidating appearance of a large man with a muscular build and tattoos a part of a motorcycle club.

“Almost done” you shout, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Y/N!” He shouts impatiently and you wash your hands quickly heading to see the action beginning. You sit beside him and he kisses the top of your head wrapping an arm around you. It’s a level of intimacy you don’t share with anyone else. You hold him back and he puts your legs over his. Your mom has said a thousand times that you’re too close to not be together. She thinks it’s a recipe for disaster and right about now you believe her. You don't know when you fell asleep but you wake up to Angel carrying you.

“It’s alright, I got you” he whispers, carrying you into his bed. You doze off again and feel him put a shirt over your tank before peeling off your leggings. You stir again when he comes back smelling like he just had a smoke. He heads to the bathroom. He gets into the bed gingerly considerate of your sleep. Sleepily you scoot over to his warm body and his arms find themselves around yours. You fall asleep in no time.

———-

It’s been awhile since you've  been woken up to morning wood. Angel's dream must be a good one. You smile sliding away from the active appendage and head into the bathroom. Evidence of your proximity is all over. You have a section in his bathroom. When you lift the face wash you smile because it’s lighter than usual. He’s been using it too. You find the dishwasher emptied  and start on breakfast. Angel comes in half an hour later looking like a daydream, with bedroom hair and sleepy eyes.

“Smells good” He mutters.

“I tried” you admit putting a plate in front of him. 

“What are you up to today?” He asks.

“Putting my books away”

“Those things are filthy” He jokes, eating the bacon with his hands like a caveman.

“Whatever” you roll your eyes and he smiles all the way to his eyes very amused.

“Aww she’s blushing” he teases.

“Shut up” you laugh sitting with your own plate.

“What’s up, you’ve been a little distant. Work or mama stressing you out?” He asks attentively. There’s no hiding from him.

“Maybe both”

“You don’t need the job. I told you you can manage the bar” he offers in a bid to keep you close.

“I didn’t go to school to manage the bar.”

“So what, you're gonna be like this for longer?” He asks.

“Explain how I’m being?” you ask suspiciously.

“Not in the moment.” He says “In your head and not letting me in” he says.

“We’ll I'm working through some things”

“What?” he panics internally.

“Personal things” you shrug casually looking into your plate.

“Come on!” He laughs. “We’re practically one person” he snaps, tossing his fork into the plate and sitting back.

“I’m getting my period, who knows it may just pass” you lie.

He deadpans, “You don’t think I know you get your period at the beginning or end of the month. You just lied” he says and you laugh shocked at his attentiveness.

“Angel!” you laugh shocked but he’s not amused.

“You’re seeing someone aren’t you? One of those sissy pretty boys you know I won’t approve of” he says making you smile.

“No, I’m not” you affirm and he relaxes a touch.

“Not a pretty boy?” He raises a brow.

“I'm not seeing anyone” you tell him honestly but it doesn't settle him.

“Y/N, you can tell me so I can look into him. You’ve only been here once this week” he says and you sit on his lap. It's what made Angel different from the rest of the guys you'd been friendly with. He wasn’t trying to control you, he'd be right by your side when the shit got sticky. He’d let you live and he’d clean up all the mess without judgement.

“I’m not seeing anyone, there’s no one you need to kill. I’ve just been trying to get my shit together” you explain and he holds you close.

“You can get your shit together here. There’s enough space for the both of us.”

“What happens when you decide to go steady with one of the barfly’s?” you ask leaning into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“Not gonna happen” He laughs holding you close.

“Remind me to take you back to the gym. Gotta get you better at boxing in case one of these creeps you don't want to tell me about gets out of hand.” he says. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. You feel compelled to tell him the full truth. You get up and pour yourself some water.

“You’re doing it again, wait did one of the guys say or do something?” He stands.

“No, the guys are well, they're great in their own special way…” you shrug, turning your back to him.

“Y/N, you’re killing me here” Angel snaps.

“Angel, don’t feel weird about this okay?”

“No promises” he huffs, leaning forward attentively.

“I’ve been having, I don’t know…” you trail, having never been here before.

“Y/N spit it out” Angel says worriedly.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what us together would be like” You admit. He stills for a while before he finally blinks and his posture relaxes. When he finally takes a breath he places a hand on his heart. His eyes close and he shakes his head in amusement.

“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again” he warns with a smile. It throws you for a loop. 

“I’m here thinking you’re hurt or sick or in danger” Angel snaps.

“I’m not sure I’m not” you joke and he smiles coming over.

“Way better than those books” he says standing in front of you closing the space between the both of you and running his hands down your shoulders to hold both of your hands.

“Huh?” you ask looking up at him.

“Us together, it would be way better than those books” he smiles. Your cheeks burn before you smile back. “It’s about time hermosa” he smiles leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. It’s the first and hopefully the first of many.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to come around for awhile now” he says candidly.

“Since when?” you laugh shocked.

“Since the pool party” he says and that was nearly a year ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask.

“Showing you was better” he says and you think of all the ways our connection has evolved this year. You stand against the counter and he closes the space between you again. He kisses you harder this time. You make out like teenagers and it sends my heart racing. You’re breathless when it ends and you rest your head on his chest. He rubs circles onto your back.

“I just knew you were a good kisser,” he mumbles.

“I need to sort my room out, we can pick this back up later” you tell him wanting more but needing some time to process your excitement and all the new info.

“Why? You don’t need those books anymore” he says, appealing to every one of your senses.

“They aren’t all about sex Angel, just the few you happened to pick up” you reason and he shakes his head knowing it's another half truth.

“You into that shit? The guy getting a little rough and being dominant?” He asks playfully, grabbing you by the neck. He’s never been rough before and your smile answers the question. 

His eyes close in appreciation and excitement. “Shit” he smiles, coming in for another kiss. This one is soft in spite of your acceptance or his rougher side. It’s perfect though.

“You can tell me what you’re into when I’m done” you smile pushing him away determined not to walk into your home freshly fucked after a night out. After all the waiting you and Angel need more than a few hours, all day and all night.

“I’m a simple man,” he says in surrender. “Pretty sure I’ll like anything you do to me” he says, making you laugh.

“Walk me out” you tell him like you would any other time. He gets the door of your car for you as usual but when he hugs you he takes a handful of ass.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he says, validating your feelings.

“Make it a habit” you whisper, kissing his cheek. Angel steps back, closing the door with a full heart and a stiffy.

“Plan to” he smiles knowing there's absolutely no way he's gonna be able to keep his hands off of you. Not even after he's touched every inch of your skin and given you every inch of him. Not after you become a Reyes or after you have a little one making your stomach swell. Not after your home is filled with children and he has to sneak into the bathroom for some alone time in the shower. Not when his hair is more salt than pepper, not when his hands are too weathered to ride his bike anymore. 

Not ever.

*

thanks for reading 🖤 like and reblog for support.

[dallianceangel]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 🐱👅💦

Here’s another random drabble for you, I hope you enjoy 😜

🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦

“I’ve missed this.”

“You don’t say,” you chuckle loudly, currently bent over the pool table while Bishop slams in and out of you from behind. “We’ve only been apart for a day.”

Bishop laughs in your ear. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

A moan escapes your lips as he increases the pace, his thumb now circling your swollen clit. “It’s not, Obispo, but you could have at least said hello first.”

Sliding out of you, he turns you around, smiling at you before burying his head between your legs and spelling out Hello with his skilled tongue.

[imagineredwood]

"So, what are you gonna do?"

Request: Creeper and reader imagine finding out she's pregnant after she left him and wanting her back

Pairing: Creeper Vargas x female reader

Warnings: Arguing, breakups, hidden pregnancy, crying, angst with no comfort at least in this part

Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I'll do a part two to this, I'm just sleepy and I want to take a nap but I wanted to get this out for yall first lol What would yall like to see? Groveling? Happy ending? Should she make him sweat? Should she just understand and forgive that tensions were high? Let me know💕

"Fuck."

You cursed as you held the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hand. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not in the slightest. Life was already complicated and messy enough as it was. Things with the club were tense, the war against other charters of their own club creating an air of chaos that amplified day by day. Creep tried his best to soothe you. Take away the worry. Tell you that everything was going to be fine, you just had to wait it out. But it didn't feel that way. It seemed like every time you turned around, it was a shooting or a bombing, your nerves frazzled. It had caused a rift between the two of you. Him feeling like you nagged too much, you feeling like he only ever disregarded you. The two of you had fought significantly more than you had fucked recently and yet now here you were, already apprehensive of where the relationship would end up, now with a baby getting thrown into the mix. You'd been careful, at least you'd thought so. But luck wasn't on your side, it seemed.

Throwing down the pregnancy test into the trash, the fourth to be exact, you held your head in your hands as you sat atop the closed toilet lid. You had no idea how this was going to go. You’d mentioned kids before, sure, but you hadn’t talked about it extensively. You had no idea how he would feel about a baby right now, and all that uncertainty did was make you feel even worse. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. You would have to sit down with him tonight and establish some boundaries. Make him see that he couldn’t just placate and then disregard you anymore. It wasn’t just about you two now. There was a third life involved, and you needed to know where his head was at. It was a talk that was a long time coming, and you hoped that it would go smoothly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Enough with this shit already. Fuck!”

Creepers voice was harsh as he cursed, exasperated with you.

“Every fuckin’ day it’s the same shit with you. I get home and it’s immediately gotta be a fuckin’ war, like I don’t deal with that shit in the clubhouse. Coming home is supposed to be relaxing. I should get home and feel happy to be here, grab a beer and just shoot the shit with you, watch some TV, cuddle, something! But no, I come home and it’s a fuckin’ interrogation every night. I can’t take this shit anymore!”

You sat at the table silent, eyes welled to the brim with tears that you begged not to fall. You stared at him, feeling helpless and hopeless. You hadn’t meant to start a fight. You were just trying to get him to see that you wanted him around more. That you missed him. That you worried for him. That you needed more from him. That you needed to know that you could count on him All you’d managed to do however, was start the millionth argument of the month. You kept your voice low, half to deescalate, half to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m just trying to get you to meet me half way. I know you’re stressed, and I know you guys are struggling, I know. I just…I need to know that you’ll try to be present more. For us.”

You caught yourself with the last word, but thankfully he didn’t realize, simply thinking you meant the relationship. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, his own voice quieter when he spoke again.

"I just...I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t be out here taking you on dates every night, spending the whole weekend with you, going on getaways. I know you need me but so does the club. Hang out with the girls. Go shopping with them. Go to the movies with them. It doesn’t always need to be me. It can’t always be me. I can't balance you and the club in the way you expect me to. One keeps losing out and at the end of the day, the club comes first. I told you that in the beginning."

You stared at him blankly. Sure, he’d said that before. In the beginning before you had even really gotten serious. You had taken it as a warning that things might not move in the way that you were used to. But you were well past that, you thought. Your voice was shaky as you inquired.

“Do you still feel that way?”

He stared at you, not wanting to have to say it. But you needed to hear it. You would need to hear it directly from his mouth if you were going to have to leave; because you would leave. If he couldn’t find some way to compromise - to find it within himself not to volunteer for every single little thing and at least try to be there for you more, then there was no sense. You had put yourself through it for three years. You refused to put your child through it. If you were going to find the strength to leave, you needed to hear him say it.

“Feel what way?”

You blinked and finally managed to look at him, his chest aching at the tears in your eyes.

“That the club comes before me. That even with how much I’ve tried and begged and pleaded and supported and waited for things to get better…that you still love it more than me. More than us.”

There it was again. Us.

The Mayan groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face roughly, eyes tired and somewhat cold as they regarded you. He shrugged, tattooed arms held out to the sides.

“You knew what this was when you got with me. This is who I am. This is what you get.”

You stared at him, and finally you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They cascaded down your cheeks and you felt like you could feel your heart breaking within your chest. Because it was done. You’d asked him to make the choice, and now finally after trying to save your feelings all this time, he’d finally been honest and chosen.

And it wasn’t you.

You knew if you told him you were pregnant, it might’ve changed things. He had always bashed deadbeats. Said how important it was for kids to have their fathers around. But you also felt it pointless. If he would change, you knew for a fact it wasn’t for you. It was because of the baby. Even by giving him the gift of life, he didn’t find you important or worthy enough to change for. And who was to say that change would stick. He’d change for the moment, but would he bail out on appointments and sonograms? Would he miss the birth, too preoccupied with a deal? Miss birthdays and recitals just to carry out hits? That wouldn’t be fair. Not to you and not to the baby. You were a grown woman; you didn’t need him. Wanted him, sure. But you didn’t need him. The kid would, and it wouldn’t be fair to them. It was up to you to protect them. To give them the best life possible. And bringing them into the world with an absent father who picked and chose when to be present wasn’t something you were going to sentence your baby to. You knew firsthand how bad it felt to always come second. You wouldn’t do that to them.

So you simply nodded, standing up from your place on the sofa, tears blurring your vision.

“Well, I guess that settles that.”

You didn’t really have much else to say, at least nothing that would make a difference. You wanted to cry and scream and plead, but you’d done enough of that, and it hadn’t made much of a difference any other time. No. You would keep your dignity. With the back of your hand, you wiped away your tears and made your way to the bedroom, ignoring his voice as it spoke from behind you.

“So that’s it huh?”

You didn’t respond, only went into the closet and grabbed your duffel bag, tossing enough clothing for a few days into it. You had moved in with Neron after a year, the Mayan feeling that you would be safer if you lived with him. You had obliged, and now wished that you had kept your place. Even still, you would go out and find an apartment tomorrow if you could. It was late already, nearly one in the morning. You would stay in a hotel tonight and begin the search for a place to live tomorrow.

You were stuffing bras and panties into the bag when he entered the room silent as he stood behind you and watched for a little while unsure what to say.

“You don’t have to leave. You can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch. We can talk tomorrow when you’ve had time to calm down.”

You shook your head. He might have thought you were just being dramatic, but you knew this was what you had to do.

“Nothing to talk about. You’ve made it clear what your priorities are. I just have to come to terms with that, and I am. We’re not compatible. Better I find out now than…later.”

You force yourself to stop there, not wanting to say too much.

“OK, but it’s the middle of the night. You can’t just leave and…go where?”

“Hotel. Don’t worry about me. It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not staying here.”

He grumbled and threw his hands up, his anger flaring.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“I am.”

You made your way into the bathroom and grabbed your toiletries, tossing them into your bag as well. Chargers, phone, keys, wallet. Everything you would need these next few days. You zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, walking past him and out of the room and heading to the front door. He trailed after you, seeing that you were fully serious. Your throat and chest ached, but you refused to let him see you cry. You would wait until you pulled away.

Making your way to the front door, you slipped on your shoes, Creepers eyes on you.

“I’ll tell Steve to grab the rest of my stuff.”

That was all you gave him before you went out the front door, his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked. He said nothing as he watched you, angry but knowing to just stay quiet. He would let you take your few days to calm down and then he would sit down and talk to you when you came back.

“Text me when you get there. So I know you’re safe.”

You didn’t respond and simply closed the driver-side door behind you, pulling out of the driveway, knowing you were going to block him for at least a week so you could begin healing. You needed to start fresh. Both for yourself and for your child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s serious.”

Steve winced and nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, man. She wants me to take it to that storage place. She’ll keep it there until…”

Creeper knew the rest of the sentence. He didn’t have to say it.

“Until she finds were she’s gonna live.”

Steve nodded, hating the tension. Creeper shrugged, feigning indifference, but inside his heart was aching. He let the prospect in, silently carrying some bins with him to pack up the rest of your things. He disappeared into the room and Creeper sat down on the soda, pulling out his phone. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It had been two days, and he hadn’t heard from you. He only knew you were ok because of Steve. You’d grown close to the prospect, trusted him. You saw him like a brother, and normally Creeper was thankful for it. Now he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy. He hadn’t heard anything from you, and he knew he was blocked based of his calls and messages being prevented from going through. He knew you had been upset about the way things had been, but he hadn’t thought you would actually leave him over it. He realized now that maybe he should have been more patient, more open to compromise. It had only been two days and already the house felt cold and bleak. You’d taken the warmth away with you.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there contemplating his actions and shortcomings, but it was long enough for Steve to be done, the last bin stacked up at the door. Creeper looked at him, anger that wasn’t directed at him.

“Look after her. Make sure she’s good. Let me know if anything happens.”

The Prospect nodded quickly, remembering that you had told him the exact opposite. He would help you. You were his friend after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Steve.”

You wiped the sweat on your brow and so did the Prospect, the bins finally in your new bedroom. You were thankful for him. You wouldn’t have been able to get all of them into and out of the storage, then into the truck and into your new apartment if it weren’t for him. He’d been a godsend with this break up and you made sure to try and pay him handsomely for his help. He’d declined. So instead, you’d forced him to at least yet you pay him in fresh lemonade and soft pretzels, and he’d been inclined to concede. Now all had been brought in and you could finally start unpacking, thanks to him.

“I really appreciate you doing this more me, Steve. It means a lot. It wouldn’t taken me forever without your help. I would’ve had to get someone and I’m sure they would’ve taken all the money they could from me. I can’t thank you enough. This place will be good for us.”

The Prospect nodded, brows furrowed as he looked down at the floor.

“You keep saying ‘us’. Do you have a new boyfriend already?”

Your eyes widened, caught, but Steve interpreted your surprise as indignation. He began to backpedal immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate or anything. It’s none of my business anyway, I just noticed you said us a few times and I wondered if maybe you had found someone else and I didn’t want them to get upset that I was in here alone with you because you’re just my friend and I would never-“

“Steve.”

You silenced him with a hand and utterance of his name. You were already moved in and more or less set up. The unpacking you could do at your own pace, but the couch and bed were already assembled, the fridge on and stocked. You were good now. It didn’t matter if he found out.

“I’m pregnant.”

Steve’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes bugging as he stared at you.

“And Creep just let you leave?”

You shook your head, eyes still on the prospect.

“He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

He nodded and looked like he could pass out. You felt bad and sighed, trying to ease him.

“You don’t have to keep it a secret. I wouldn’t put that on you. You don’t have to lie or hide things for me. I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I’m just telling you the truth. That’s why it was so important for you to help me with this and why I appreciate it so much. I needed to get back on my feet.”

He nodded, understanding, and looking a little less stressed now.

“It’s ok if you tell him. It won’t change anything.”

He nodded again and you smiled, pouring him another glass of lemonade for the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s what?”

Creepers eyes were on fire as he stared at the prospect. Steve shifted uncomfortably under Creeper’s gaze, as well as the others who looked just as shocked.

“Y-yeah. She’s not too far along. Like two months or something, I think. I don’t really know.”

His voice was small as he spoke, everyone looking at Creep now.

“And she knew when she left.”

He wasn’t really asking, but Steve nodded anyway.

“She said she needed to get back on her feet. Make sure she had a placed that was safe so she could start over.”

Steve’s words were like knives, even though he knew the prospect wasn’t trying to hurt him. Hank stood and tossed an arm around his shoulders.

“You did good helping her. Let’s get a drink.”

He walked them both into the clubhouse, leaving Creep, Bishop, Angel, and EZ outside. They stared at their brother, no one talking for a while.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

Creeper stood there motionless, unable to answer Angel’s question. It was Bishop who answered for him.

“He’s gonna get it the fuck together and go get his woman back. He’s gonna apologize, say that he was a fuckin’ idiot, that he wasn’t thinking, and it was a mistake to let her go, crawl on his hands and knees if he has to, and show her that she can count on him. That they both can. Whether she takes him back or not.”

Bishop took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes staring off into the distance as he felt his heart clench as he thought about his own late child.

“He’s gonna make sure he owns up to his mistakes and spend time with her, so he can be there for his kid and watch them grow up.”

His eyes landed back on Creeper then, his gaze stern.

“That’s what he’s gonna do.”

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[juicesgf]

You Belong to Me. - Angel Reyes

He slammed the beer bottle on the bar never taking his eyes off her. She was doing it on purpose he knew she was.

And fuck did he hate it.

💋💋💋💋💋💋

His hands never left my waist as we “danced”

“Your really cute you know” I whispered biting down on his ear lightly

“Oh really?” Ez mumbled his hands roaming further down my body

“I love you Ez but get your hands off her now.” Angel snapped walking over

I turned my head to look at him as a smirk formed on my face “But we’re having fun”

He grabbed my wrist dragging me to the bathroom before quickly slamming the door shut backing me against the sink.

“You think it’s cute acting like a slut?” He questioned sliding his hands up my skirt

“Mm your brother seems to like it”

That’s all it took for the switch in him to flip. His hands went to her shirt ripping it off throwing it to the floor doing the same with her skirt.

“No panties or bra? Fucking whore.” He spat attaching his lips to hers his hands sliding between her legs.

A whimper left her mouth as he pulled away sliding his finger inside her. “This pussy.” He paused picking up his pace his fingers moving faster inside her “Mine.”

He uses his other hand to cup one of her boobs lowering his mouth to suck on one momentarily before pulling away. “These boobs.” he smirked giving the other a soft kiss “Mine.”

“These beautiful lips” He whispered bringing his mouth to hers placing a sloppy kiss before pulling away “Mine.”

He pulled out his fingers from inside her before sucking her juices off his finger. When he finished he cupped her face with his hands forcing her to look at him “You belong to me.” He stated before smirking and leaving the bathroom

“Never forget who you belong to princess” He laughed before closing the door behind him.

I’d genuinely do anything this man told me to.

-hails🧸

[drabbles-mc]

Perspective

Bishop Losa x F!Reyes!Reader

For @narcosfandomdiscord Book of Balancing In Between: Fanwork whose setting is in a liminal space (i chose the carniceria after-hours)

Warnings: 18+, language, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, reader is the oldest Reyes sister

Word Count: 2k

A/N: MAAAAAAAAN it's been a while since i've written for Bishop and i simply just love giving him complicated relationships with Reyes Women.

You knew better than to sit with your back to the door no matter where you were or what time it was. But, after how the last few weeks had gone you were too tired to think about it. You were too tired to think about it, it was two in the morning, and out of all the places in the world to sit with your back to the door you figured that Felipe’s shop was one of the safest. So there you were, camped out at one of the small tables inside the shop with your back to the door.

It'd been a long time since you made a point to notice the sound of motorcycle engines. It was like having the fan on at home or the window down in the car as you drove, noise that you heard but never really listened to. The sound of the bike engine went in one ear and right out the other, but the shifting lights and shadows of the singular headlight coming through the front windows of the shop are what caught your attention. Then you heard the rest of it.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped at the tears in your eyes, the ones smeared across your cheekbones. Raking your fingers back along the sides of your head, you tried to take breaths deep enough to get your heartrate and your breathing back on track.

The sound of the engine went away, the light streaming through the window went away too and sent all of the shadows running with it. You sat perfectly still, and within seconds, right on cue, the bells above the door chimed as someone pushed it open.

The pacing of his strides gave it away before he even opened his mouth to speak. “Shouldn’t turn your back on the bad guys, querida,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

Something about the feeling of the callouses on his palm against the exposed skin of your shoulder was more comforting than usual. Reaching up, you threaded your fingers with his. “Only bad guys who come here tend to be pretty good to me, so I think I’ll be alright.”

His hand fell away from your shoulder as he walked to sit across from you, and you begrudgingly let his hand slip out of yours. Leaning back in the chair, you watched as Bishop sat down across from you. Once he sat, he immediately leaned forward onto the table, hands resting in the center of it close enough for you to hold if you wanted to.

There was something so familiar about the way he looked in the patchy light coming through the windows from the streetlamps outside. It reminded you of when you’d first met, first really gotten to know each other. A lot had changed since then, and it reminded you of all that too.

“What’re you doing here, Obispo?” you asked, mirroring his position but not taking his hands in yours again just yet.

“You weren’t home,” he offered up simply.

You chuckled. “And why were you—”

“Because you didn’t stop by the clubhouse.” He pulled his phone from his kutte and tossed it onto the table. “And you didn’t answer your phone.”

Tears were gathering in your eyes again but you still smiled at him. “Something going on that I should know about, then?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Bishop looked at you, studied the expression on your face. He could see the puffiness of your eyes, the way that the tears beginning to creep over the edge were not the first ones that you’d shed for the night. He saw the tiredness in your eyes, even though only the smallest traces of light were hitting your face.

“Why here?” he asked, completely avoiding your question.

“What?”

He made a tiny gesture, a flick of his hand motioning to the expanse of the shop. “Why do you end up here at three in the morning when shit goes sideways?”

You chuckled. “It’s only two in the morning, first of all.”

“You know—”

You pointed to his kutte. “Can I?”

There was a pause, and the look on Bishop’s face let you know that he was contemplating holding out on you until he got some answers from you, but he’d never been good at turning you away. Reaching back into his kutte, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter. You watched as he went through the motions that were so second-nature to him now, placing it between his lips and sparking the lighter, waiting to make sure it’d catch. He pulled one drag off of it before holding it out to you. You let your fingers touch for a second longer than necessary before taking it.

The inhale that you took off the cigarette in your hand was the steadiest one that you’d taken for most of the night. You tried to savor it, the steadiness and the burn you felt. Closing your eyes, you let your breath sneak back out one calculated centimeter at a time.

Finally opening your eyes again, you found Bishop still staring at you, that same unique mix of anger and concern in his eyes that never truly seemed to go away. “The worst thing happened here,” you said, quieter than you intended.

Bishop’s frown deepened in a way you didn’t know was physically possible. Nodding, he kept his voice just as quiet as yours as he said, “I know.”

You brought the cigarette back to your lips for a moment to buy you some time. “So now, when other bad things happen, sometimes I’ll come here. Get some perspective…or some shit like that.”

The tacked-on ending got weary but genuine chuckles out of both of you. “Right. Some shit like that.” Bishop took a moment to light up a cigarette of his own. “Still don’t like it.”

You hummed in amusement. “You don’t have to.”

“I do if you’re gonna keep comin’ here.”

“Only if you’re gonna keep comin’ after me.”

It was a sweet moment, one of small smiles and tendrils of smoke making it even harder to get a clear picture. But you each knew how the other looked even in pitch black darkness. There was a warmth about it, separate from the scorch down the back of your throat. You almost wanted to reach out with your free hand to take his.

But then the moment passed. Pressing the knuckle of your thumb across your brow, you asked, “So, did you come hunt me down tonight to tell me something that I already know?”

His expression faltered. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think I would’ve known by now that my brother got shot?” Ash fell from your cigarette onto the table, a mess you’d be sure to clean before Felipe found his way back to the shop again. “You didn’t think that between the hospital, and his girlfriend, and my other brother that’s part of your fucking club,” your palm slammed down on the tabletop, causing it to rattle, “You didn’t think that with all of that, I wouldn’t find out?”

“Querida, I—”

“Ah-ah,” you shook your head. “You didn’t come here to break the news to me, Obispo. When you called me a few hours ago? That was to try and break the news. And you were still too late on that, by the way. But the rest of it? Showing up to my house? Here? You only go that far when you know you’re up shit creek with no fucking paddle in sight.”

Neither of you said anything then. The longer you looked at Bishop, the less you felt that you knew what he was thinking. If tradition held, he was probably trying to come up with excuses for a few things: why EZ got shot, why he wasn’t the one to tell you, and why there wasn’t blood running down the streets of Santo Padre yet. You didn’t need the laundry list for it all, but you’d played games like this with him enough now to at least be curious about the answers.

The same thing happened when you found out Ezekiel had killed a cop and was going to prison, and when Angel was joining the club, then again when Angel was looking down the pipe at eighteen months in Chino, then again when you heard that not only was Ezekiel getting out of prison, but he was getting out of prison and funneling himself right into the club alongside his brother. The same song and dance again and again over the years, and to think that neither of you would’ve had to learn the steps if Bishop hadn’t found you here, alone in the shop in the middle of the night, scrubbing at the floor because you were convinced that the last of your mother’s blood still hadn’t been washed away after the police department left.

Clearing his throat, he started again. “I didn’t think that you should be alone.” He paused, waiting for you to start right up again. When you didn’t, he continued, but tentatively. “I’m sorry that you head to hear it from…” he trailed off, realizing that you hadn’t said through which avenue you found out.

“Gaby,” you filled in the blank, shaking your head as you remembered the sheer terror in her voice.

“I’m sorry about that.” He sounded genuine as he was saying it. Before the scoff in the base of your throat could make its way out, he said, “I am. But would hearing it from me have felt any better? Would you have ended up,” he gestured to the carnicería with both hands this time, “anywhere else?”

You chuckled, a bitter sound. “You almost had a decent apology going for a second there.”

He took a deep breath, and you could see it on his face that he was actively fighting the urge to say the first thing that came to his mind. “I am sorry. And I am fucking here. And if you ask me to do something for you right now, I’ll do it.” He waited for you to look him in the eyes again. “What do you want right now?”

Pulling every last bit you could from your cigarette, you snubbed it out. Smoke cascaded from between your lips as you sighed. Leaning forward, you dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wrap your head around Bishop’s question, about what your answer to it was.

“Where’s Ezekiel?” you asked.

“Out of town. Gaby’s with him.”

You nodded, hands dropping back to the tabletop. “Right.”

He covered one of your hands with his. “What do you want right now?”

You focused on the warmth seeping from his palm into the top of your hand. You zeroed in on the way he dragged the pad of his thumb across your knuckles. Looking at his face, you felt yourself getting pulled underneath the waves of desperation in his eyes. He always looked so sad, and so earnest about it. And the undertow of it all always seemed to get you.

Turning your hand, you interlocked it with his. “I don’t know.”

“Thought this place was supposed to give you some perspective?” he asked, a twinge of a smile on his face.

It got you to laugh if nothing else. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you said, “Maybe I just gotta sit here a little longer.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

He squeezed your hand before standing up. You tilted your head to the side as you watched him walk deeper into the shop. “What’re you doing?”

He crumbled the last of his cigarette into the small trash can by the bookshelf. Picking it up, he brought it over to the table where the two of you were sitting. “Cleaning this up before you forget,” he said as he swiped the butt of your cigarette and the ashes from it into the trash can. Once he brought it back to its rightful spot, he sat down across from you again. “And I’ll sit with you.” He watched as the tears started welling in your eyes again. “And I’ll bring you home before Felipe comes back.”

You managed a smile, and despite all the mess and the hurt, you felt a little bit of relief at his offer. Nodding, you gave a soft but sincere, “Thank you.”

He took your hand in his. “Whatever you need.”

(divider by @silkholland 💞)

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[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: King - Angel Reyes x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @deliriousfangirl61 @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @thanossexual @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @wnbweasley @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @spookyboogyuniverse @skyesthebomb @spaghettificationandpretzels @joyfulfxckery @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @justreblogginfics @vermillionwinter

Hitting the Lace Bingo Square

Angel has you sitting on the edge of the bed, your wrists bound behind your back and a black silk eyemask drawn down over your eyes. You’re wearing royal blue lace tonight; it highlights your skin giving you almost ethereal look. His thumb trails over your lower lip, dragging it down before he murmurs the words.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful Mi Reina.”

He tilts your chin up, and you can feel the heat of his body as he leans in close, his mouth brushing over yours. His lips are hot, almost searing as his tongue dips into your mouth. Your body responds to him, arching up as he grips your jaw, holding you in place. You whine when he pulls away and he smiles because his reina needs him just as much as he needs her.

He kneels before you, placing his palms on your bare thighs, parting them before he guides them over his shoulders.

You can feel his breath ghosting over the damp lace, his beard grazing along your inner thighs. His fingertips slip under the elastic, teasing along your wetness. It’s nothing more than a brief caress but your hips buck towards his mouth, and he just can’t help himself. He tugs your underwear to one side revealing your nakedness and his cock fucking twitches.

You have such a pretty cunt; he’s always thought so, and he can’t wait to get his mouth on it.

When he kisses you there, your breathing hitches. His tongue traces lightly over your clit before he sucks just slightly, making you breathe his name out loud. His tongue delves lower, pressing at your entrance, he holds it there and you whimper, trying to fuck it but he holds you in place lapping over it over and over again until you finally say the word he’s been waiting to hear.

“Please.”

He raises to his feet, cupping your chin once more before he removes the blindfold so he can see those beautiful eyes of yours.

“Does Mi Reina need her king?”

“Please.” You say again and he kisses you, his hand tangling in your hair as his tongue delves deep into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and it’s such a sensual feeling, sharing yourself with your lover.

He undresses for you, his eyes locked on yours as he removes his clothes until he’s entirely bare for you, his cock hard and leaking.

“Stand up.” He requests and you follow his instructions, raising to your feet. He draws your underwear down before he sits on the edge of the bed and guides you into his lap. He holds you steady, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you let out a moan as he fills you.

“Move for me.” He tells you, his voice rough. “I wanna see you fuck it.”

He lies back, his gaze on that sexy ass of yours as he watches his cock disappear inside of you. Fuck you feel good, the way that perfect pussy of yours grips him, it makes him feel like he’s died and gone straight to heaven. Every single one of your breathes comes with a sweet little noise but it’s not enough for Angel. He needs you loud, he wants the people in the room two doors down to know how good he fucks his woman.

His hands come to rest on your waist. He rolls his hips, thrusting deep and the sound that leaves your mouth…

That’s exactly what he wants to hear.

“That’s it Mi Reina…” he drawls, one of his hand grabbing the slender chain between your wrists and tugging it down so your back arches and you take him that little bit deeper. “That’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

He fucks you hard, his cock raking across that perfect place deep down inside of you, the one that makes you scream for him. He feels your climax coming, it’s in the way your body starts to tense, your movements becoming more frantic. The ecstasy rushes through his veins as you come for him. You clench around his cock, your walls hugging it so tightly that Angel sees fucking stars. He keeps your hips pinned against his, burying himself deep as he spills his release inside of you.

“Fuck.” He mutters, sitting up so your back comes to rest against his chest. His lips chase up the curve of your throat as he unbinds your wrists. “I think you managed to ruin both of us.”

You tip your head back into the hollow of his throat and laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, one that vibrates through his entire body as he wraps his arms around you and gathers you close. His thumb chases over the scar just underneath your rib cage, the place where Skye shot you all those months ago and he’s reminded of how close he was to losing you.

“I love you.” He whispers, holding you just that little bit tighter. “I love you so God damn much.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[texaschainsawmascara]

Drea De Matteo

[ravennaortiz]

Summary: Angel gets a surprise from his stepdaughters.

As always my stories are 18+

Speechless. For the first time in his life he is left at a loss for words. Swallowing hard as tears start to dance along his lash line he glances up from the two little girls in front of him to you. Your eyes meet and just like that he is transported back to the day the four of you met.

*2 years prior*

Angel had stepped under the awning of the small sidewalk café to escape the brutal Santo Padre heat and grab a quick drink before heading back to the clubhouse. He had been people watching as he sipped his drink when he caught site of you. You were crying as a man stood looming over you berating you.

Pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on Angel sat his drink down and made his way over. As he got closer he saw you were desperately trying to plead with the man to leave you alone as you clutched a baby to your chest while your toddler sobbed on the floor under the table.

Without hesitation Angel gently moved behind your chair and settled his hands lightly on your shoulders. "Do you have a problem with my wife or me?" Angel asked calmly as the man took him in backing up a couple steps. "You need to tell her to be modest and respectful of others. She is flashing her breast and distracted me from my coffee" the man snapped as he flapped his arms in your direction.

"I see. You have a problem with my wife feeding our child because the female body has been so over sexualized that you have forgotten all the amazing things it can do besides bring pleasure." tutted Angel as he shook his head and moved around the table to stand directly in front of the man. "I suggest you get out of my line of sight before I forget I have my family with me today sir" he added as he gave the man a gentle pat on the head and flashed a smile.

That day had changed both your lives forever. The next two years had been a roller coaster of dolls, tea parties, tiaras and pink nail polish.

*Present Day*

"Well are you gonna be our Guardian Angel forever" inquired your older daughter her bottom lip quivering as she looked at him. Angel knelt in front of her as tears slipped down his cheeks. It had been incredibly hard to get her to come around to him being in your life. He had to work hard to earn her trust and reassure her that he wasn't trying to replace her dad who had passed away.

"Always" stated Angel firmly as he pulled both your daughters to him for a hug as they squealed and giggled.

Series Masterlist

[garbinge]

Motion Sick

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pregnant. 

“Holy shit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 

[qominsi]

ANGEL REYES Mayans M.C.

[ficnation]

Chapter 4: The Love She Holds

Series: “She” Word count: 2,7k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader Warnings: 18+; mayans mc typical warnings, unwanted touch, SMUT kinda A/n: What we're all been waiting for �� PS. If I reread this one more time before posting I'll probably scrape it all bcs I'm never satisfied 😩 If you enjoyed reading this please reblog and let me know your thoughts!

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For the next few days, Angel can’t look you in the eyes—hell, he can’t even bring himself to leave his room when he hears you shuffling around the apartment. He waits for the sound of the lock shifting in the door before he can bring himself to stick his head out of his safe haven. 

Angel knows he’s the one that fucked up this whole thing with you. He was lonely, and you were in his life for such a long ass time. You’ve never let him down—not even once. You are the sweetest person he’s ever met, yet you can still kick his ass when he’s being a dick. Falling in love with you was inevitable, but he didn’t know it would happen so fast—so soon. 

The man sighs as he leans his elbows on the wooden counter, listening to the wheezing of the coffee machine as hot black liquid spurts into the mug. The sound was tickling his nerves in a certain—very annoying—way. It didn’t make him even slightly angry before the bath incident, but now he just can’t stand it—it makes his head hurt. 

He slams his fist onto the counter, cursing loudly. The coffee spills over the edge of the mug and barely misses his hand. 

“I should fuckin’ do something,” he murmurs to himself through clenched teeth. Since when was he afraid to go after a woman he loves? He’s never been a goddamn pussy. What changed?

You are just so different than anyone Angel’s ever been with. He doesn’t want to lose you—can’t fucking stand the thought of you walking away. He has to do something. 

He drops Maverick off at Felipe’s house—gives them some abuelo-nieto time while he drives over to the bar where you work. It’s a shithole—a very suspicious one at that—yet the parking lot in front is almost full. The neon sign above the door flashes on and off when Angel slams the door of his car shut. Jesus, it’s gonna give someone a headache or a fucking seizure.

Entering this building was probably one of the worst mistakes in life—the man thinks as he’s greeted by a couple almost going at it by the entrance. The skinny blond dude has his hand down the poor girl’s skimpy skirt as she moans loudly in his ear, hips rolling into his palm. Fucking disgusting. 

He was doing the same exact shit back in the day when he was dumb, reckless, and didn’t care about anyone other than himself. But now the view makes him almost gag. 

The brunet pushes past the lovebirds—or rather fuckbirds—through the narrow hallway to the main area. The dimmed red lights flashing above his head and the music that makes every wall pulse with the beat make it seem like more of a club rather than a bar. He’s surprised when he takes a few more steps and a woman dressed in booty shorts with her whole tits out passes by him with a tray full of colorful shots. What the fuck is this place?

Angel looks around wildly, searching the topless women’s faces in fear he’ll recognize one of them. He pushes past the swaying bodies in the middle of the room, and then he sees you—working behind the bar.

He’s relieved when he notices that your chest is covered by one of those bralette thingies you like to wear so much. But he’s not sure whether this relief comes from not wanting the pathetic men around the bar to stare at your perfect body or not wanting to get another surprise boner in front of you. 

��You didn’t tell me you’re a bartender now,” he yells through the loud music as your gaze finds him, your eyes widening in shock.

You serve one of the men at the bar a bottle of beer, popping the cap simultaneously, then you come back to Angel and squint at him, trying to find a clue as to why he turned up at your workplace and how he even knew where to find you. This bar was almost an hour's drive away from Santo Padre. 

“What the hell are you doing here? I do not have time to put up with your shit right now, Angel,” you sneer at him as you lean over the bar in hopes he’ll hear you better, take the hint and retreat back to his car. 

“I’m fucking sorry, alright?!” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation, almost knocking a drink out of some poor girl’s hand.

You blink once, then twice, and your eyebrows scrunch up in annoyance, “Fuck off.” You whip around and go the opposite way to serve another customer. 

That’s definitely not how Angel imagined this conversation would go. He didn’t know you were that mad at him. He was a moron to think you’d accept his apology without a peep in the middle of a sea of drunk strangers. This wasn’t a goddamn telenovela. 

The man sighs deeply in annoyance before following you to the other side of the bar. “Querida, can we talk? Give me five fucking minutes.”

At first, he’s sure you’ll just ignore him as your eyes almost pop out of your skull—that’s how hard you roll them at his words—but then you turn to him with teary eyes. “I’m at work. I can’t. You really couldn’t wait and ambush me when I’m home?” 

“It was an impulse,” he admits. Angel knew it was pretty dumb to think that if he came here, you’d drop everything, so he could explain himself and get rid of this guilt that’s been eating him alive for the past few days. “Please, querida.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” you curse under your breath before waving over the other bartender and shouting through the noise to her that you’re taking a break. 

You join Angel on the other side of the counter and tug at his kutte, leading him toward the exit. Before you can even reach the hallway, someone bumps into you, their hands grabbing at your naked waist. 

“Hey there, bonita,” the man greets you. The smell of his cologne and cigarettes makes your eyes widen—you know it very well. 

Angel stands there for a second, his left brow raised in annoyance and confusion because you seem to know this guy—and he really doesn’t like that thought. He pushes the stranger’s hands off your body with a sneer. 

“Man, don’t fucking touch her like that.”

You catch Angel’s forearm and squeeze almost painfully, your nails digging into his inked skin. You don’t turn your head toward him even for a quarter of a second. 

“The hell? We’re friends, big guy.” The man’s deep voice and graying beard confuse him even more. Since when do you fancy fucking grandpas? 

“Uh, Cesar, hi,” you greet him, your voice squeaky and the upward quirk of your lips fake. The second the stranger’s gaze falls over your grip on the brunet’s arm, you release him. “Sorry, I’ve actually just finished my shift.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.” Cesar’s eyebrows and nose scrunch threateningly. Who the fuck is this guy to be talking to you like that?

You reply without missing a beat, “My kid’s got a fever. It’s an emergency.”

The old guy looks between your face and Angel’s before the grimace falls. The smirk taking its place isn’t any less threatening. “You must be the baby daddy, huh?” he asks, but his tone is clearly mocking.

You pray in your head that Angel will hold his short temper at bay. You know, one wrong word to Cesar equals a shit ton of trouble—even the satisfaction of wiping that disgusting smirk off his face wasn’t worth it. 

“Mi niña hermosa. So fucking good at riding, she got herself a biker,” Cesar almost moans those words out as his hand finds your hip, fingers toying with the belt loop of your dress pants. You don’t move to slap his hand away.

Angel raises his fist to punch him, his teeth gritting against each other almost audibly. Before he can deliver that hit, you push him aside and usher him out of the door. You don’t say another word to that Cesar guy—not even a goodbye—as he slips a bill into your back pocket and slaps your ass.

Angel is fucking livid because you know how to take care of yourself, he saw you kill a man before, crush his skull with your goddamn boot, and yet you just take the disrespect in silence. It’s not like you.

Once you’re out the door and out of earshot, he explodes. “Why the fuck did you let him treat you like that?!” His voice reverberates through the night air, earning the two of you a few concerned and annoyed glances from the bystanders. 

“That’s my boss. Now shut up and take me home,” you mumble, exhausted, looking around the parking lot in search of Angel’s car. “I spent an hour in the car with that dick to even get here, and now I’m going back after not even half of my shift just because you couldn’t wait to talk,” you rant, almost stumbling over your words.

When you reach the car, and he opens the door at the passenger side like always, he’s surprised to catch a glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. He joins you inside with a sigh, concerned eyes finding your head turned away from him as you stare through the side window. 

“Cariño, I’m sorry,” Angel whispers, his hand reaching to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with your bare arm. “Every single time I feel like we’re closer than ever and that maybe you feel something toward me too, you fucking push me away.”

“I know, I’m—”

You cut him off before he has a chance to apologize again, “No, I’m speaking right now. You’ve never yelled at me before. Not like that. You scared the shit out of me, and I blamed myself. Wondered what the hell I did to deserve it. But I didn’t do shit.” You throw your arms in the air, gesticulating toward him. You still refuse to meet his eyes. “You fucked up. Not me. You’re the one that’s been playing with my feelings all this time, and god forbid I try to even out the stakes.”

Angel’s now the one tearing up as his eyes widen at your words. “Querida, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t fucking mean it.” His fingers find solace in tugging on his hair in frustration.  “And I never wanted you to feel like I’m playing with your feelings. I’m so sorry.”

You turn away from him again, biting your lip to keep the sobs inside. “Please, just drive me home, Angel.” The desperation in your voice is heartbreaking. 

So he does what you ask of him and drives you home in silence. He doesn’t have it in him to try again when you’re already struggling, trying to keep the whimpers from wrecking your body. And when you pull up in front of your apartment building with a heavy heart, he lets you jump out of the car and rush to the door. 

He stays in his seat, trying to recollect himself—it doesn’t help, he still hates himself for making you feel this way. It takes a while for him to get inside the apartment, he dreads that when he walks in, you’ll tell him to take his shit and get out of your life. 

Angel knows he fucked up, and you were right; he played with your feelings—played with his own too. He slept in your bed almost every night, cuddled with you, kissed your forehead and told you ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’. How was it any different from how he’d treat Nails, Luisa, or any other woman he loved? Minus the sex. And when you challenged that unspoken boundary—on purpose or not—he chickened out and treated you like a plague. What the hell was wrong with him?

The apartment is swallowed in darkness when he enters it. You’re nowhere to be seen, and he figures out you’ve probably shut yourself inside your room, maybe even locked the door, so he wouldn’t be able to come in. He wouldn’t blame you.

He sits on the couch in the gloom and stares into the void. He’ll wait for you to come to him once you’re ready—he’ll sit here for hours if he has to. Angel needs to fix this, tell you what’s really been on his mind the past couple of days—tell you how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how fucking terrifying it is. 

Three hours pass, and he’s almost dozed off on the couch, his head tilted forward, his back slumped, and his eyelids drooping with every second. The wooden floor creaks underneath your footsteps, waking him up completely. The sleepiness evaporates into thin air as he straightens up and finds your frame in the darkness. 

You switch on one of the lamps in the corner of the room. Its warm glow takes over its surroundings, but not overwhelmingly so. Angel squints a little as your frame drops onto the couch beside him. You sniffle softly before leaning your head on his shoulder.

His heart shatters just a little bit more, and his voice carries it, breaking in the middle of the sentence, “I’m sorry, cariño.”

You don’t acknowledge his apology—you don’t really need to. Your next words are all the forgiveness he could ever want. 

“I love you, Angel,” you mumble against his arm. It’s a quiet confession, yet it echoes in his mind like a mantra.

He feels your tears soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. The man blinks in shock once, or twice, then pulls you into his lap and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

“You know I love you too, right? More than any woman I’ve ever loved,” he admits, and it pains him, but it’s the truth.

He loved Luisa and Stephanie, but those feelings pale in comparison to what he feels for you. Angel never experienced this overwhelming want to protect someone from the whole goddamn world—the pure need to spend every single minute of his life with them and care about them more than he’s ever cared about himself. He feels that for you—like he could throw himself into a burning fire if someone promised him his sacrifice would give you and Maverick safety for the rest of your lives. 

You straighten up in his arms and cradle his jaw in your palms. When your eyes meet, you see that burning fire in them. He doesn’t need to say anything else—you understand him without words. 

Your lips press against his tentatively at first, tasting the love and longing. But Angel has a different idea. He pulls you flush against his chest, hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His tongue grazes the plush of your lips, and you part them for him without a second thought. 

That night, he fucks you on the couch in the middle of your living room, your back pressed against the cushions as he slides inside you with a guttural groan. It’s sweet and needy. The desire you harbored for each other finally released into the world—he’s far past feeling guilty, and sorry for a woman that’s long gone.

Your moans reverberate through the room, and all he can think about is how perfectly he fits inside you—like you were made just for him. One look into your eyes, and he knows you’re thinking the same thing. 

Your nails bite into the bare skin of his back, and the pain is so lovely—he could get drunk on it. He pushes deeper and deeper until you’re a whimpering, clenching mess beneath him. It’s a picture that burns into his brain, he’ll never be able to get it out—not that he’ll ever want to. 

When he spills inside you with a groan, you pull him flush against your naked frame, cradling his face in your palms and leaving sweet pecks anywhere you can reach. 

He’s addicted already, he’ll never be able to give you away now—not a chance in the world. Angel’s love for you is burned into his heart permanently. 

Taglist: @neverland14353 @darklydeliciousdesires @spnaquakindgdom @dreamy-caramel @mars469

[happysoldlady]

Ok so what if Angel had a wife/gf who’s graduating college for whatever (you can pick) and everyone is there and he’s so proud of her because she put her life on hold because they became parents young and she had to take care of the kid

a/n: I almost wrote the graduating party at the clubhouse too lol! please enjoy!

You and Angel had been together for several years. The first year was mainly just the two of you trying to figure out how to co-exist. And the other four had been spent raising the tiny human the two of you made. Being a parent was one of the most rewarding experiences of your life and that experience was ongoing. But bringing a human into the world had halted the plans you had for yourself. Angel was as supportive as he could be, but club business overruled everything and eventually, you had to drop out of school to care for your child. It was only a year and a half ago that you were able to finally go back, with the help of your lovely father in law of course. And today, you finally graduated.

The university gymnasium is packed with teary eyed families and lined with thousands of graduation caps all belonging to hopeful entrepreneurs. You were slightly older than most of the graduates, your life experience calming your nerves. This was just walking across a stage. Nothing compared to the shoot-outs that so often occurred at club parties. And even as this thought crossed your mind, your hands started sweating a little bit the closer you got to the stage. Your eyes dart through the rows of proud families, scanning for a particular set of brown eyes to calm your nerves. You are three graduates from the stage when you finally find them. There, in the middle, is Angel, Felipe, and EZ. Angel is holding your kid up so they can wave from the stands. You give them a watery grin, and a small wave, and then turn to focus on walking across the stage.

——

“Gracias, señor.” You giggle as Felipe hands you a bouquet of flowers. You step into his arms and plant a kiss on his cheek that leaves his cheeks a little pink. Then, EZ pulls you into a tight hug. His face is shadowed, though, and you remind yourself to explore it with him later.

“Mommy!” Your child runs up, wrapping little arms around your legs. You squat down to give them a tight hug and then stand, immediately stepping into Angel’s arms as EZ takes the reins of your four-year old.

“Congratulations.” Angel mumbles into your hair, planting a kiss to your head before nuzzling his face in the crook your neck. Your arms tighten around him and the emotions of what you’ve accomplished nearly overwhelm you. “I’ve never been so proud of someone in my life.”

You let out a choked sob and bury your face into his chest. To hell with your makeup, you’re a fucking college graduate!

[dallianceangel]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 🌅🥵

Some more Mayans fics will be posted soon 🫦

🦋 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🦋

You’re cuddled up with Bishop in bed on a Saturday morning, feeling something hard press against your exposed back. Excitement stirs, thinking you’re about to have another round with him. It’s just past 7AM, and he’s managed to make you cum three times already. You’ve only been awake for an hour.

Suddenly, the hard object vibrates, making you jump out of your skin. You turn to Bishop, eyes wide. “I thought that was a boner!”

Bishop chuckles, turning his phone on silent before pulling you closer towards him. “No, this is a boner.”

He places your hand on the hard bulge, gazing at you hungrily. “Feel that, babe?”

You nod as you squirm, desperate to feel him inside you again. “Fuck me, Obispo.”

He kisses you deeply, his hands exploring. “With fucking pleasure.”

You lay down on your back, spreading your legs, gasping when he slowly enters you. It’s not long before he’s got you crying out his name and gushing all over him again, loud enough for the new neighbours to hear, making them wish they never moved in next door.

[imagineredwood]

4. Stars ✨

Summary: EZ is president now and with that new control over the club has come new control over you.

Pairing: EZ Reyes x female reader

Warnings: 18+ Sexual content MDNI, PIV sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation-(everything is consensual but the reader does ask him to stop due to overstimulation, not because she is no longer consenting), EZ talking the reader through it a little condescendingly

Word count: 745

A/N: Named it Stars because that what the 🍆 has you seeing in this one 🥰 Could potentially be seen as a little OOC for EZ, I just went with more of his personality from the later seasons. The more ruthless EZ as opposed to the usual characteristic early on cinnamon roll EZ 🫣 Also none of the other women that he’s been with on the show exist in this timeline so the reader is his first valentine since getting released.

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

EZ chuckled at your breathless voice, high-pitched, whiny, and desperate as you pushed at his shoulders, trying to earn some reprieve. The vibration against your clit ran a shiver through you, a quiet sob pushing past your lips at the overstimulation. You weren't sure how many times he had made you come now.

You had stopped counting after six.

It was Valentine's Day, and with his time in prison, EZ hadn't had a Valentine to spoil in quite some time. But he had you this year and he had pulled out all of the stops. Breakfast in bed, spending the day together doing the hobbies of your choice, a fancy dinner at your favorite restaurant, and now that you were both home, he had spent the last 45 minutes with his face buried in your pussy eating you like a man starved.

It had been great at first, like always, but somewhere around the fifth orgasm, it had somewhat lost its novelty as you shook and spasmed over and over. He took some pity, opting to move his mouth to your inner thighs, leaving kisses and soft bites while his fingers worked into you instead. He'd given your swollen clit some safety from the abuse for a good few minutes, long enough to help you settle. Just to bring his full lips to it once more, suckling and kissing, your thighs casing tightly around his head.

But he simply laughs again, taking true pleasure in your overstimulation. His goatee has rubbed your lips raw and he pouts slightly as the small welts of irritation that ripple the texture of your sensitive skin.

"Poor baby."

He runs a finger over your slit, shaking his head at the way your hips jerk.

"I can't, EZ. I'm s-serious. I can't...I can't...no more..."

You're having trouble forming words, your brain turned into mush long ago. The Mayan president gets up from his prone position, a kink in his neck that he ignores. He's sitting up on his knees, looking down at you with pride and adoration, his mouth and beard glistening in copious amounts of your slick and his spit. His hand is unceremonious as it comes up to wipe at his mouth, his eyes darker than you ever remember seeing them. Ever since he's taken the gavel, he's been this way. More rough. Primal. Feral even.

And now that he has reduced you to an incoherent babbling mess, he finally grips his cock, thick and solid and leaking, just to tap it sadistically against your puffy pussy. He runs the underside over your clit, reveling in the small hiss you let out at the contact, cooing at you as he does.

"You're ok. You can take it. I know you can. You can be strong for me, right? Can't you?"

His tone was babying yet condescending and you blinked the tears out of your eyes, your head nodding softly. He grinned and leaned down to press his lips to yours, his tongue dominant as it pushed against yours, your taste still in his mouth. He pulled away after a moment more and took hold of himself once again, cock pushing through your lips easily, back and forth, back and forth, your hole clenching on nothing on nothing every time he grazed over your clit.

He finally sunk into you without warning, slow and steady until he was buried within you fully. He leaned his weight on top of you, burly arms coming up to rest on either side of your head, encasing you. His lips kissed and sucked at your jaw as he gave you a moment to adjust, his left hand fisted into your hair. Not pulling or tugging, but ensuring he kept you just where he wanted you. He pulled his hips back then, all the way until he had almost slipped out of you, and then sank all the way back in. Your thighs trembled as they rested against his waist, your breathing shallow and ragged and he continued those strokes, making you see stars.

You made noises that EZ assumed might've been meant to sound like words, but they were unintelligible, so he paid them no mind.

"There you go, baby. That's my good girl. Look how good you take all of me."

You whimpered and nodded, your brain as scrambled as your insides, you having no choice but to lay there and take everything he gave you.

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002

[juicesgf]

Losing me. {A.R}

Warnings: none

Angel lied there silently, practically ignoring Y/n’s presence. That’s how it’s been the past couple of days, she tries talking to him earning small grunts and hums in response, so she then just stops talking and he doesn’t care.

She lied beside him staring up at the ceiling for a moment. This had to stop, she couldn’t keep doing this anymore, giving him her all and getting nothing back.

“You’re losing me..” She muttered hoping he could hear her.

He did but he didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. It was like he was frozen in place, the last thing he wanted was to lose her. He loves her more than anything, so why couldn’t he say that? Why couldn’t he hold her and apologize, telling her how much he loves her?

She sighed at his silence as a tear fell down her cheek before she slowly got up from bed and left the bedroom. She debated staying the night on the couch and leaving in the morning but it was clear he didn’t want her there, so she did as he wanted and left.

[drabbles-mc]

Sugar

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I've ever written for, I'm aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We'll see how far we get!

Prompt: petals

Word Count: 423

A/N: I miss prepping craft projects for my students and somehow we ended up here 😂

You were sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath the coffee table in your living room while you worked. The television was on but you weren't really paying it any mind as you cut out flower petals from construction paper, preparation for crafts with your students the next day. 

Above the white noise of the television, and the satisfying sound of your scissors gliding through the paper, was the sound of Angel's voice as he vented to you about what had gone down in Templo earlier that afternoon. 

“I swear to god,” he said as he went to the fridge to grab himself a beer, “I wish we were kids so I could dribble his head like a fuckin’ basketball the way I used to.” He popped the cap off the bottle and took a sip. “Bounce that shit right off the floor,” he said as he mimed a dribbling motion with his free hand. He looked over at you. “I think I could still do it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you kept your eyes trained on the paper in front of you. “Physically? Yeah, you probably could. But do you really think it'd solve anything?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed as he came and stood by the coffee table, neck craned down so he could watch you work. “Knock some brain cells back into place.”

You shook your head again with a knowing smile. “It's like I tell my students– you get more with sugar than–”

“Than you do with shit,” he finished with a sigh. “I know but I don't think I buy that shit, querida.”

You finally looked up at him. “Salt.”

His brows knit in confusion. “What?”

“You get more with sugar than you do with salt, Angel.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I'm pretty sure–”

You set the scissors down and leaned back slightly. “You think I'd say ‘you get more with sugar than you do with shit’ to my students? My elementary students?”

A smile quirked the end of his mouth. “I mean, it's still true.”

You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't help yourself. With a loving roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to come and sit with you. “Come down here and help me out with this, will you?”

He didn't put up a fight as he plopped down beside you. “Tryin’ to distract me,” he said with a smirk. 

You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his jaw before handing him his own pair of scissors. “Sugar instead of salt.”