#che 'taza' romero

[bullet-prooflove]

City Boy: Che 'Taza' Romero

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @ficnation @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

The first thing Taza notices about Ben is his ability to connect with other people.  The other man has an easy smile, and a laugh that resonates through his entire body, the kids flock to him and he makes the time for each and every one of them. It’s important in a community like theirs, parents are fighting tooth and nail to put food on the table, they send their kids to the community centre, to a place they know they’ll be supported and listened to.

He doesn’t realise he’s an LGBTQ counsellor at first, not until Riz explains it to him.

“Latinx LGBT youth are 45% more likely to attempt suicide compared to non- Latinx youth, it’s an epidemic.” The younger man tells him.

A lot of these kids don’t have a safe space to explore who they are, the community centre is trying to change that by becoming an affirming space, picking up the mantle where home and school can not.

Carmen’s brought Ben in to address that issue. He’s run successful programmes up in Boston, Detroit and Cincinnati and now he’s here in their little border town. Taza sees the disparity and it makes him wonder why Ben’s really here. Santo Padre shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar, not when he’s running programmes with big city money.

When he asks Carmen, she gives him a look, one that he’s become well acquainted with throughout their friendship.

“Ask him yourself.”

Taza decides to bite the bullet and do just that.

Ben’s in the midst of his lunch break Taza sits down across from him. He’s eating empanadas from the food truck outside and writing something down into a A5 notepad. His handwriting is neat and concise.

“You have questions.” He says in that gruff voice of his, closing the note pad and setting his pen down on top of it.

“Yea, a ton of them.” Taza responds, his arms crossed over this chest.

“You can ask me over a beer tonight.” Ben says as he finishes up his lunch. “I’ve got back-to-back sessions, starting in the next five minutes.”

This is how it starts, the thing between the two of them.

After the community centre has closed Taza finds himself standing in the garden that Lila helped create. There’s fairy lights entwined in the wooden struts that jut out of the ground, casting a warm glow across the space. In his hand, he holds a beer from the local brewery. It’s the one with the citrus tang, his favourite.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Ben says as he stands next to him. “You don’t get to see stars like this in the city.”

“I heard you were a city boy.” Taza returns, tilting his head so he can study the profile of Ben’s face.

He’s a handsome man. A full head of salt and pepper hair that Taza wants to run his fingers through, it matches the beard that lines his jaw. His shoulders are board, muscular like a boxer’s. Taza wonders if that’s what Ben does in his spare time.

It’s been twenty-five years since he’s felt this way about another man. He’s had fleeting attractions in the past, but this is different. It transcends physicality, he wants to know this man intimately. His thoughts, his feelings, his hopes, his dreams. He wants everything.

“I was.” Ben responds to Taza’s question before he gestures to the memorial bench underneath the fairy lights. One of the kids had taken his own life last year, Carmen had wanted to make sure he was remembered, and the bench was how she honoured him. Taza sits down alongside Ben, their knees bumping against each other lightly. “Small town living sits me better these days.”

“Why here?” Taza asks, gesturing at the landscape. “Santo Padres a big step down from the kinda cash you must have been pulling in the big city.”

“Not everything is about money.” Ben says quietly, his thumb scratching away the label of his beer bottle.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Taza points out as he watches the paper peel.

“No I didn’t.” Ben says as he reviews the skyline.

Silence falls between the two men. It’s a mild night, it’s light and balmy. The scent of Ben’s aftershave floats along the breeze, something earthy with a mandarin overtone. It’s intoxicating, rich and deep, Taza wants to spend the rest of the night breathing it in. He’s tired of being alone, of hiding the truth about who he really is.

“My partner died.” Ben says finally into the space between them. “I couldn’t stand living there without him, so I left.”

“I’m sorry.” Taza says softly.

He means it. He knows what it’s like to lose a piece of yourself. He thought he would spend the rest of his life with David and then El Palo murdered him.

“You didn’t kill him.” Ben says taking a sip of his beer.

“Someone else did?” Taza questions.

Ben runs a hand through his hair, a loose wave falls across his forehead and it takes everything in Taza not to reach out and brush it away.

“Yea.” Ben says as he stares straight ahead. “Someone did.”

“I lost a friend the same way back in 95.” Taza finds himself telling Ben. “It destroyed me.”

There must be something in the tone of his voice, he doesn’t realise he’s betrayed himself until Ben asks.

“Just a friend?”

It’s the first time he’s talked about David, he hasn’t breathed the other man’s name in over twenty years. It still hurts to think about him even after all this time, but there’s a catharsis in it because sitting here with Ben…

He knows the other man gets it. He might be the only other person in the world who does.

“I loved him.” Taza confesses into the darkness. “And he loved me.”

“Your club doesn’t know do they?” Ben says, taking a swig of his beer.

 Taza shakes his head.

“I’d appreciate it if it stays that way.”

“I’m not in the business of outing people.” Ben tells him as he leans back against the wood, his arm coming to rest along frame. “That’s not what I’m about.”

“This is probably the most honest I’ve been with anyone in twenty-five years.” Taza says quietly, rolling the beer bottle between his palms.

“That’s a long time to hold a secret.” Ben says as he tips his head towards Taza. “Let me ask you something, does it still need to be a secret?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Taza says as he studies the label of his beer bottle. “Five years ago, I would have said yes but now… Things are changing, we’re more involved in the community, in programmes like yours, I don’t know if it matters anymore.”

“Give it some thought.” Ben says as he raises to his feet, his hand lightly clasping Taza’s shoulder. “You might find it’s time to step into the light.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mysoulisasunflower]

✨Best Idea Ever✨

Mayans MC | 1.4 "Bat/Zotz"

[dallianceangel]

𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 😭👻

I might make this into a longer fic, so let me know if that's something you'd like to read. 💗

🎄 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🎄

“We need to get out of here, and fast.”

You look at Taza in confusion as he snatches the cloth and disinfectant spray from you, guiding you out of the clubhouse, under the cover of darkness. This isn't the time for asking questions, but that doesn't stop you.

“Just tell me what's going on, Che!”

Taza covers your mouth with his hand, not wanting your cover to be blown, but it's too late. He's heard you, and seen you.

“Baby girl?”

Happy can't believe his eyes. He thought you were dead. He attended your funeral, he carried your coffin. None of this makes sense.

[sonhosquebrados]

Raoul Max Trujillo 😍

[drabbles-mc]

Degrees of Separation (3)

Taza Romero x M!Reader

Summary: You transferred out of Yuma and into Santo Padre in a last-ditch attempt to outrun old ghosts and old problems. The small charter, located in an even smaller border-town, seemed like the perfect place to try and shake off everything that had happened to you so that you could start over. You were ready to live with your old secrets. But the deeper you get into the charter, the more you realize you may have simply traded in your old secrets for new ones, and this time you wouldn't be going down for them alone.

Chapter Index

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I realize it had been approximately 10000 years since I wrote for Mayans/SOA but I swear I'm still around and kicking. Bringing this story back from the dead after basically a year of not updating it 😂 But it's a longer chapter so I'm gonna pretend that that makes it okay lmao. I've missed writing these two, though. Lord knows I love me a good slow burn. 😌

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @darqchilddaydreamz @danzer8705 @camelia35 @thanossexual @kishie8 @callmejaye (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was a smooth ride back to the clubhouse the next day. There were minimal stops along the way—everyone just wanted to be back home. Between how busy the last couple of days were, and the sun constantly beating down on your back on the return trip, you were exhausted by the time you rolled into the clubhouse lot.

Everyone was hopping off their bikes, the guys in the van piling out, all of you stretching as you tossed your helmets onto your bikes. You looked around, trying to get a feel for what they were all planning on doing. You just wanted to go home and sleep, never mind the fact that it was still probably far too early to go to bed. But if everyone was going to hang around for a bit, you weren’t just going to take off.

You watched as Angel, Gilly, and Coco headed directly for the clubhouse. You were mentally gearing yourself up to follow suit when you heard Taza’s voice coming from behind you. Sometimes it felt like the man could see your plans before you even said or did anything about them.

“The rest of us are going home,” he told you as he stepped so that he was standing next to you.

You didn’t try to dial back your relief. “Yea?”

He laughed. “Yea.” He nodded towards the clubhouse. “They always pull late ones when we get back if everyone is in one piece. You can stay if you want, but,” he shook his head, “the rest of us just want to shower and sleep.”

“Thank god.” You laughed.

You reached into your kutte, pulling out your pack of cigarettes. Placing one between your lips, you grabbed your lighter as well. It took a couple tries, but you finally got it lit, taking a deep inhale and tilting your head back so that when you sighed, the smoke flowed straight up. You felt Taza watching you, and despite the fact that he declined the night before, you still gave him another wordless offer. He chuckled, caving and taking you up on it this time around. He pulled one out of the pack and allowed you to light it for him, watching as you carefully shielded the flame of your lighter from the light breeze threatening to blow it out.

“Do things usually go that smoothly?” you ventured to ask, assuming that if anyone was going to be honest with you, it was Taza.

He nodded, pulling a drag off his cigarette. “Yeah,” smoke flowed out between his lips with each word he spoke, “usually. Not always,” he chuckled knowingly, “but usually.”

You laughed, shrugging. “I could get used to that.”

He arched one eyebrow, clearly curious. “Things not go that smoothly in Yuma?”

You held the smoke in for a beat longer than you usually would before releasing it with a deep sigh. “Not for me.”

Taza studied your expression as you said that, the way that you weren’t looking directly at him as you spoke. Despite that, he could still see the tension in the way that you stood, the way you forced the deep breath out. He wondered if this was going to be the moment when you finally opened up about whatever had gone down in Yuma that made you transfer out. There were usually stories of some kind to accompany why men would shuffle between charters. Or, at the very worst, there were rumors, which while they weren’t ideal it would still give people some sort of an idea as to why the changes were happening. But it had been radio silent with you. Yuma didn’t say much, and you said even less. Truthfully, Taza wasn’t interested in Canche’s version of anything, but it would’ve been better than nothing.

But you still kept it in, whatever thoughts were racing around your mind at the mention of your last charter. Maybe one day down the line you would talk about it, or maybe it was just going to be another thing that got buried in the pile of happenings that you never forgot, but never discussed. If Santo Padre was going to be anything resembling a fresh start, you figured that leaving the past where it belonged was the best course of action. Giving things a voice didn’t always work out for you in the past.

Somehow, even with the overwhelming urge to pry, Taza didn’t say anything more to you about it. He was no stranger to having skeletons that he tried to hide from view. You both stood there, passively tapping the ash from the ends of your cigarettes smoke swirled up around you.

“Those runs are every month?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He nodded, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Least once a month, yeah.” He looked at you, a curious expression on his face. “You want to be put on the rotation?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah.” You dropped the last of your cigarette, snubbing it out beneath the toe of your boot. “Felt good to be back on the road again.”

“I’ll let Bishop know,” Taza said, nodding as he got as much as he could out of the cigarette pinned between his fingers.

“Appreciate it.” You smiled as you gave Taza a light clap on the shoulder. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Sounds good.” He watched as you walked back over to your bike, finally letting the end of his cigarette drop and hit the ground when you clipped your helmet on to drive off.

The next few days were quiet. There were no calls for Templo, and you didn’t have any yard shifts which you were thanking your lucky stars for. You took advantage of the downtime to try and rest, and to put some minor attempts into making your new place feel a little more like home. You’d never been good at the decorating thing, always counting on whoever you were living with to have a stronger knack for it than you. The plants that were struggling in your window sill, and the few picture frames tacked on the wall in your tiny living room were about the extent of your décor. You’d been saying that at some point you were going to have to remedy that, and now some point was here.

Looking around, you weren’t really sure if it made the apartment feel that much more like home. But it at least no longer looked like what would pass for a low-budget motel room. Now, you figured, you were at least in low-budget hotel territory. It was a step in the right direction. For once, you missed having a roommate.

Flopping down onto the couch, you came to the immediate conclusion that the throw pillows were a good purchase. It blew your mind how much a fucking pillow cost, but for all the times you ended up falling asleep on the couch instead of in your bed, you supposed it was a decent investment, and apparently it would brighten up the space, or whatever all those people on the HGTV channel would say.

You were halfway to falling asleep when your phone started buzzing in your pocket. You snapped awake, digging it out and bringing it to your ear without checking to see who was calling. “Yeah?”

“Yo. They called Templo.” EZ was clearly trying not to laugh at the fact that you sounded as tired as you felt. “Bish wants everyone here ASAP.”

You sat up, running your free hand down your face like that would wake you up. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

Luckily you were still in the clothes you’d gone out in before, so getting ready really just meant slipping into your kutte and putting your boots back on. You grabbed your helmet and took off out the door, double-checking to make sure that you’d really locked it.

You weren’t the last to show up to the clubhouse, but even so, there were still a good number of bikes already there when you showed up. You put yours in line with everyone else’s, leaving your gloves and helmet on the seat before making your way over to the clubhouse steps. Before you even opened the door, you could hear some of the chatter coming from inside. No one sounded angry, which was a good sign, but you still had no idea why Bishop had called a meeting.

You made your way over to the bar, never quite sure where else you should go. That was another thing you still had on your list of stuff to figure out. Everyone else seemed to have some sort of a routine, a group that they gravitated towards. You hadn’t found yours yet. Each time you thought about it, you thought about your quick exchange with Angel on the run. For all the ways that the guys like to bust his chops, you couldn’t help but to think that maybe this time he had a point.

Bishop’s voice ringing through the clubhouse cut down any chance for you to think too much more about it. You downed the last of your beer before getting up to head towards the sliding glass door. EZ was tossing your bottle and a few others into the recycling bin behind the bar when Bishop called out for him too.

“You too, prospect.” He nodded towards the room. “Might need your help with something.”

Your expression showed your mixed feelings of impressed and confused. Prospects in Templo didn’t happen often. Again, maybe it was different in Santo Padre, but you knew for a fact that in Yuma the circumstances had to be dire for that to happen. You wondered if there was more going on that you should all be worried about. The way EZ chuckled and shook his head let you know that he saw the confused look on your face. He fell into stride next to you once he came out from behind the bar.

“Least I know I’m not the only one out of the loop on this,” he joked before tossing his phone into the basket.

“What’s this?”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

You listened as Bishop, Taza, and Hank all explained what had been going down in the prisons. They were your drugs. Sure, technically they were Galindo’s, but Mayans were the ones distributing. Your charters were the ones distributing drugs that were making people drop like flies. It was more than just a one-off—it clearly wasn’t user error at this point.

Sitting back silently, you also listened to the plan that they were formulating to get to the bottom of all of it. It sounded a little batshit, to be quite honest. It was all hinging on EZ’s brain. Apparently he had an eidetic memory. You had no reason to believe that that wasn’t true, but you also found it a bit bold to be using it to essentially write off an entire charter as snakes. No one else seemed to share the same reservations, though.

“This doesn’t leave this room,” Bishop said as he looked around at all of you. “Got it?”

Everyone gave their version of yes before Bishop nodded, bringing the gavel down and effectively dismissing everyone. You stood up, pushing your chair back, and were about to start heading out of the room when Bishop spoke up again, this time only saying your name. It sent a tiny jolt of fear down your spine but you fought not to let it show as you turned around to face him and the other two men sitting at the head of the table, the only others who hadn’t gotten up from their chairs.

“Yeah, Pres?” you tried to sound casual enough, hoping it hid your nerves.

He nodded towards the chair that was on the opposite side of Hank, one that brought you to their end of the table. “Sit.”

There was nothing for you to say, so you just waited for the rest of the room to clear out. You temporarily snagged someone else’s seat for the sake of not sitting at nearly the opposite end of the table from Bishop while he spoke to you. You rested your forearms on top of the table, crossing them so that your hands rested by opposite elbows. There was no way for you to know for sure what your expression looked like, but you hoped it was something adjacent to relaxed, maybe even a little confident if you could muster it.

“Settling in alright?” Bishop asked when the room stilled again.

You chuckled out of nerves. “I think so, yeah.” You paused for a beat, looking at his expression, then those of Taza and Hank. It always seemed like everyone had a better game-face than you. “This like, what, a ninety-day eval or something?” you joked lightly.

Taza let out a quiet laugh at that, and it even got a bit of a smile out of Bishop before he replied, “Yeah, pretty much.”

You gave a slow nod, trying to take the temperature of the room. It didn’t feel tense enough for you to think that things were about to go poorly. “Alright. Why don’t you guys tell me how I’m settling in, then.”

Taza smiled, maybe a little more outwardly amused than he should’ve been. “We think you’re settling in alright too.”

“We just need to know if you’re planning on staying,” Hank finally spoke up, “now that you’ve seen what we do here.”

You had no hesitation as you nodded. “I wanna stay. I’m—I’m gonna stay.”

Bishop was studying your face, looking for any crack in any possible façade that you could be putting up. “You’re sure on that?” He saw the way you were about to shoot something back, but the slight lift of his hand from the table stopped you. “I need to make sure my club is fuckin’ steady. You left Yuma. I didn’t ask why—I don’t really give a fuck why, either. I just need to know if you’re gonna wanna leave here too.”

You managed to keep your composure, not wanting to get heated enough to the point where you’d have to get into it all. Instead, you took a deep breath, set your shoulders back, and shook your head. “I’m not planning on leaving.”

There was a long drag of silence. Long enough that if anyone in that room was holding a lie together by a thread it would’ve snapped. You must’ve seemed steady and sure enough for Bishop’s liking, for all of theirs, because everyone in the room relaxed. Except Taza��the one person in the room who hadn’t seemed tense in the first place.

“Good,” Bishop finally said. He snubbed his cigarette out before dropping the act and letting himself smile. “Now we won’t have to do this shit again.” He saw the relief on your face and he just nodded towards the door. “Go on, get outta here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately getting up and letting yourself out. The usual thrumming of the clubhouse hardly even registered as you quickly made your way through and out the door. You stopped on the deck, just needing fresh air as you braced yourself against the railing.

The creaking of the door opening behind you caused you to turn around. You chuckled and shook your head when you saw it was Taza. “You know that was coming?” you asked.

He chuckled, nodding. “Of course I did.”

“Didn’t think to warn me?”

He shrugged as he leaned on the railing next to you. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

You shook your head, not looking at him but not really looking away from him either. “Bit of a risk, isn’t it?” You turned to look at him only to find him already facing you. “Asking me if I’m gonna stay after going over all that shit with the other charters?”

Taza shook his head. “No risk.”

“No?”

He shrugged. “I had the feeling you weren’t gonna flinch.”

“If I did?”

“We had plans in place for that too.”

“Jesus Christ,” you said with a shake of your head.

He chuckled, clapping you on the back. “Good thing you didn’t flinch, huh?”

“Yeah.” You had to laugh a little. You knew what you were dealing with—at the end of the day it was still an MC. “Real good thing.”

[myckicade]

Back Home - Chapter One

Summary: You and Che had been so happy. Everything had almost seemed perfect. You hadn't counted on the bastard up and leaving you. Che's return is even less expected. You've carried on, rebuilt your life, and are enjoying where you're at. It's going to be a fight to see whether Che can fit back into the space he used to occupy, if that space still exists, at all.

A/N: C’mon, now, y’all… You know I couldn't pass this up, series end, or not. I wanted to get two others up first, but, as usual, this one just would not leave me alone! Contains spoilers up until... Well. This is the end of the road, so spoilers for the whole series!

P.S. SPOILERS: I’ve had to fuck about with the timeline a bit, as I have no idea whether Taza’s absence lasted five minutes, or ten years. This show is wonky, that way. 

Teaser: It’s been a long time since you’ve found yourself speechless, but here you stand, speechless, and lost, and half-scared of something that doesn’t even exist. 

* 

This can’t be real, you tell yourself, the words shaping and forming and dying in your head before they can reach your lips. Your numb, trembling lips. All of you feels like it’s trembling. The cool breeze blowing in from the open door has little to do with the shiver working its way over your skin, much as you’d like to give it the credit right now. You know your face looks like you’ve seen a ghost. It has to. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to scream, or speak, or even sputter out a single sound. It’s been a long time since you’ve found yourself speechless, but here you stand, speechless, and lost, and half-scared of something that doesn’t even exist. 

Yet, it does. It exists in the shape of six-odd feet of handsome, half-slouching, complete asshole of a man standing on your front steps. The two of you have been staring at one another for entirely too long, since the moment he showed his face, and spoke your name. It was – and still is – pathetic, how easily the sound of his voice made you weak in the knees. 

Oh, this asshole. 

“How’d you get this address?” comes flying out of your mouth so suddenly, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re actually the one who said it. You watch as Che, seemingly just as startled as you, shifts on his feet. 

“I went by your old apartment,” he admits, finally breaking eye contact to glance down at his boots. “New tenant seemed to know you? She told me where you’d moved to.” 

“Fucking Diane,” you sigh, glancing over Che’s head to take in a quick glimpse of the stars. You have a fabulous view of the night sky from here, much better than you ever could have hoped for at your apartment. He’s never seen this, you consider. Not from here. Not like he was supposed to. Che moves, barely a step to the side, bringing your attention back to him. “It’s been a year, Che.” Your tone is firm, probably a little harder than is strictly necessary, but you’ve practiced this. Sure, you may never have expected to see this rotten motherfucker ever again, but you’ve prepared yourself for the scant possibility that you’d one day get the chance to toss him back out on his ass. 

The nerve. The fucking balls this bastard has, right now. 

Che blows out a breath. “I know,” he agrees, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. His eyes are on you once more, a hesitance in them that shines against the light of the porch. You wait a beat, then two, and by five it’s clear he isn’t going to continue. 

“That’s it?” you scoff. “You know?” 

“I can leave, if you’d like?” It’s a genuine offer, you can tell. It’s not a threat. There’s no intentional manipulation in the letters. But then, there wouldn’t be. Che’s never been that type of man, certainly not to you. He’s honest, and decent, and devoted, and you need to stop before you remember every reason why you love him. 

Before you lose sight of every reason to choke him with your bare hands and start caving into every desire you still have to wrap your arms around him, and never let him go. 

Fuck. Angel is right. You’ve gotta’ get out of that book club. 

Focusing back in on the matter at-hand (so to speak), you have two options before you. This is a man you haven’t heard from in more than a year. So much has changed. You’ve changed. He surely has, as well. It’s probably a bad, bad idea to do anything other than turn him away. 

On the other hand… Well… You’ve missed him so damned much, and the idea of watching him drive away for good – again – already has your eyes welling up with tears. Fuck, you really can’t do it, can you? How fucking pathetic. You need, need, need to stick to your guns. Tell him he’s lost his chance. Tell him things are different now. Anything, anything to make sure you don’t weaken in the face of this choice. 

But… Aside from this, this one big, huge thing, he’s never done a damned thing to upset you. To hurt you. The two of you have always played it straight in your relationship, all the cards on the table, full-tilt, no stops, feel free to pass GO! and keep on driving. You’ve thought about this more than once (twice, ten times and better), wondered exactly what in the world could have been so bad, so terrible, that Che had felt the need to run, instead of facing it head-on with you. Stepping out on you has crossed your mind. A late-in-life crisis of some kind. And the ugly possibility that you’ve never really known the man you’ve been in love with. For all you know, Che wants to tell you about the secret family he’s been keeping in Modesto. Wife and kids. Husband and kids. Do you really want to know? 

Glancing up, you find Che shifting around again, two seconds from backing off the steps, and down the driveway to his bike. Whether on impulse, or by some crazy ass design, you make your decision. “Sit down,” you instruct, pointing to a patio table and two chairs set up at the corner of the porch. “I’ll be right back.” He nods, clearly surprised, all over again. You nod once, yourself, before disappearing into the kitchen. 

What are you doing? 

Reaching into the refrigerator, you retrieve two cold beers. You have the feeling you’re going to need one. 

What the fuck are you doing, (y/n)? 

You turn back from the door and pause. Would liquor be more suitable for this conversation? Might send the signal that this meeting is far more friendly than it has right to be. Giving Che false hope is something you would rather avoid, and a night of drinking liquor has never not led you two to the bedroom. 

Decisions, decisions. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, at all. No good can possibly come from it. Who’s to say the man outside is even looking for signs of hope? Two minutes ago, he was ready to ride off into the night, no questions asked. Can’t be he’s really too eager to apologize, right? He had that chance, and all you got was, I know. The fuck are you supposed to do with that? 

Groaning, you shift both beers to the bend of your left arm and retrieve a bottle of Jose Cuervo from the cupboard with your right hand. It takes some maneuvering, but you finally make your way back out to the porch, balancing the beers, the liquor, and two shot glasses in your arms. Che immediately jumps up from his seat to help you, relieving you of the bottle and glasses, and you find yourself thanking him, as always. 

“Thanks, babe.” 

“Welcome, doll.” 

Neither of you seem to know what to say for a hot second, staring at one another from across the table like two deer caught in cross traffic. You can feel your face growing warm, thankful for the dim glow of the Christmas lights you’ve left strung on the porch since early last November. They’re clear, warm and cool shades of white, with the ability to twinkle, and flash, and induce seizures on the right settings. Angel keeps telling you to take them down. (”It’s July, for fuck’s sake!”). Che has yet to comment on them, but you know he has already formed an opinion, which likely mirrors Angel’s, but with kinder, more considerate wording. 

Clearing your throat, you take the seat closest to the door, where Che has chosen to box himself into a corner. He can hop the railing if he needs to make a clean getaway, but strategically speaking, it’s not the smartest move he’s ever made. Still, you pass him a beer, before setting up the shot glasses. Che reaches for the tequila and pours you each a shot. Smooth. Simple. Familiar. Something clenches in your chest. 

“So,” Che begins, lifting up his glass. He looks your way, expectantly, until you do the same. He gives you an awkward half-smile, before you both down your shots. Fuck. It’s good stuff, but that first one tends to hit you where you live. “How have you been?” 

Really? That’s his starter? 

And, wow, it seems like you aren’t going to like any of his attempts tonight, huh? 

Cracking open the can in front of you, you shrug. “Busy, I guess?” Another shrug quickly follows the first. “Had a lot on my plate, for a while. Opening the new store. Buying the house.” 

Che thumbs at the lip of his can, not yet opening it. “I heard about that. Finally went ahead with it, huh?” 

“I did,” you reply, around a sip of Labatt. “Brick and mortar, this time. No more working out of the apartment or driving around town making deliveries.” You look over and find a warm smile waiting for you. 

“I’m proud of you,” Che murmurs, all sincerity and happiness. It’s your stomach’s turn to get all fluttery. “That’s awesome.” 

Darting your attention elsewhere, you quickly down another mouthful of beer. It’s too familiar. You’ve said far too much. “How about you?” you ask, upon swallowing. You’re not looking his way. You can’t. This is already going all wrong. “Been up to anything fun?” Silence reigns for a moment. It’s unsettling, but you manage to bring yourself to look up again. Che is staring at you, all traces of his smile gone. In its place, an expression you cannot name. It’s almost sad, but not quite. A touch guilty, but not completely. You don’t like it, this look he’s sending your way, panic seizing you enough to blurt out, “I see you’ve cut your hair, again.” 

“Don’t do that,” Che replies, almost immediately. His tone catches you by surprise, so low and serious you feel another shiver building at the base of your spine. 

“Don’t do what?” 

Che blinks, just once. “Don’t try to act like everything’s okay,” he continues. “We both know it isn’t.” That shiver climbs a little higher. True and fair though that is, it’s the only way you’re going to get through this. Cool indifference, at its finest. “While I appreciate not being greeted with a toaster upside the head, I don’t appreciate the passive attitude.” 

Damn. Talk about caught. 

“Got rid of the toaster,” you mumble after a moment, brushing imaginary debris from your pant leg. “I’m up to an air fryer now.” A laugh breaks free from Che’s mouth, and you fight the smile creeping across your lips in response. You’ve missed that sound so damned much. 

You’ve missed him so damned much. The way he talks, low and smooth like the finest honey. The way he looks at you, heart in his eyes, like you mean the world to him, ten times over. You never expected to lay eyes on him again, let alone to have the chance to spill out everything you’ve spent endless hours grumbling about to yourself. Practicing in your head. The ugly words you’ve wanted to throw at him, and the calm manner in which you’ve wanted to deliver them. Now is that chance, and... 

And the words won’t jump off your tongue. 

“You’re allowed to be pissed,” Che continues, unknowingly encouraging you toward letting him have it with both barrels. “Hell, I’d be shocked if you weren’t.” 

You sigh, deep and heavy. “I didn’t know what to be, for a while,” you admit, fiddling with the various rings on your fingers. Your right thumb brushes over the circle of silver on your left index finger. A medium sized band, with citrine stones embedded in the surface, and engraved, Love, Che. Even after everything, you haven’t found it in yourself to take it off. Tuck it away somewhere. Toss is out. You should have. You’d still have every right to do it, too. You just... 

Can’t. 

The silence must be getting to him, because Che is suddenly asking, “How are the kids?” Oh, boy. Now, here is where you’d really enjoy giving the man what for. Your poor babies. You could keep your calm for what you have been through, yourself, but your babies? You’ve been silent too long, again, it seems, from Che’s worried call of “(Y/n)? Are they okay?” 

“Flint looked for you, every damned day.” There. Now it’s out in the open. You catch Che’s flinch from the corner of your eye, a smug sense of satisfaction coming over you at the sight. “It was a fight to get him to eat for about a week, he was so upset.” Flint, your old boy, had become Che’s little buddy over your time together. They’d go for rides in the truck together. Have naps on the couch like the two grandpas you’d joked they were. Walk together. Eat together, as far as Che sharing food from his plate. While your dogs are hardly Che’s responsibility, watching Flint suffer through that pain still sits with you like an open wound. Even now, the tears are gathering at your eyes. 

“I never meant to-” 

��Max destroyed some of your clothes,” you interrupt, not wanting to hear his bullshit until you’re done. If your feelings don’t come out now, they never will. “Two pair of pants, some socks, and your brown boots.” You pause, clearing your throat. “Wasn’t a full day after you’d gone. I think she knew.” 

Che grimaces. “Girl always liked to tear my shit apart.” He sighs. “Not that I blame her.” 

“I don’t, either.” You shrug. “I had enough respect for you not to go batshit on the stuff you left behind, and I packed everything away after I caught Max in the act, but the temptation existed.” Reaching out, you pour another shot of tequila for Che, and one for yourself, which you promptly swallow. He doesn’t touch his. “You left just about everything, too, I know you realize.” 

“Kinda’ hard to cram my life in a backpack and saddlebags.” He leans forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, hands folded together in front of his face. He’s quiet for a moment, before bowing his head. “You know... I don’t wanna’ sit here and make excuses, and I’m not going to. I know what I did, and it was a dick move, and telling you ‘I’m sorry’ just isn’t gonna’ cut it.” 

Finally, you fully look at the man beside you. It’s the first time he’s said those words tonight, even if they were only uttered to make a point. He’s right. No apology is going to cut it, not now. Words are just fucking words, something you’ve had to come to grips with over the last year. Actions are what matter, isn’t that what you two have always agreed on? He took off. Up and left you holding the bag on so much emotional shit, you’re still digging out from the avalanche. 

But... He’s here now. That’s action, too. How much does that count for? 

Shaking your head, a bit, you try to focus back in. Too many questions, too many possibilities, and too much familiarity are invading your mind. There is something far more pressing to begin with, prompting you to turn your body in your chair, so that you can give Che your full attention. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

Che looks at you for a moment, relief in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmurs, before nudging the tequila bottle closer to you. “You’re gonna’ want more of that while I do.” 

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[mysticalmallard]

October Requests

2024 Fall/Halloween requests

Requests will be open until October 31st.

Completed requests will be linked at the bottom

♥︎ Main Masterlist ♥︎

Rules for making a request:

★ Send me one mood & a character from the lists below.

☆ And 3 words of your choice that I must include in the one shot

★ Be following me.

♥︎ These gifts are only for my followers ♥︎

☆ please like, comment, and reblog your completed submission or future requests may be denied.

★ Only submissions sent as an ask will be accepted. I do NOT accept anonymous requests

☆ One request at a time, please.

♥︎ As soon as it's done & you reblog, you can send in another request ♥︎

Characters to choose from:

🎃 Jax Teller

🎃 Opie Winston

🎃 Juice Ortiz

🎃 Chibs Telford

🎃 Tig Trager

🎃 Herman Kozik

🎃 Happy Lowman

🎃 Marcus Alvarez

🎃 Angel Reyes

🎃 EZ Reyes

🎃 Coco Cruz

🎃 Che 'Taza' Romero

🎃 Hank Loza

🎃 Bishop Losa

🎃 Gilly Lopez

🎃 Nestor Oceteva

🎃 Neron Vargas

Mood:

💀 Fluff

💀 Angst

💀 Goofy

💀 Suggestive

💀 Random

Completed Requests:

1. Goofy, Chibs Telford, Candy, Costume, Scary movie

2. Fluff, Juice Ortiz, Pumpkin, Cat, Purple

3. Random, Gilly, cheesecake, spoon, messy

4. Goofy, Happy, costume, party, contest

5. Suggestive, Angel, black, eyes, water

6. Fluffy, Opie, scary, sexy, mine

7. Suggestive, Coco, red, chill, thunder

8. Suggestive, Manny, purple, love, sultry

9.

10.

Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @youngadult9016 @meera10

[justanoasisimagines]

List of Fandoms/Characters I write for...

House of the Dragon ❀Criston Cole ❀Aemond Targaryen ❀Aegon II Targaryen ❀Harwin Strong ❀Cregan Stark ❀Gwayne Hightower

Game of Thrones ❀Sandor Clegane ❀ Tormund Giantsbane ❀Podrick Payne ❀Jon Snow ❀Robb Stark ❀Theon Grejoy ❀Jorah Mormont ❀Samwell Tarly ❀Gendry Waters ❀Tyrion Lannister ❀Jaime Lannister ❀Oberyn Martell ❀Ramsay Bolton ❀Viserys Targaryen ❀Khal Drago ❀Daario Naharis ❀Dickon Tarly ❀Koner ❀Ser Davos Seaworth

The Walking Dead ❀Rick Grimes ❀Shane Walsh ❀Merle Dixon ❀Daryl Dixon ❀Glenn Rhee ❀Jerry ❀Negan ❀Milton Mamet ❀Ceasar Martinez ❀Siddiq ❀Abraham Ford ❀Eugene Porter ❀Noah ❀Theodore "T-Dog" Douglas ❀Beta ❀Alden ❀Simon ❀Benjamin ❀Phillip "The Governor' Blake ❀Dante

Fear the Walking Dead ❀Troy Otto ❀Jake Otto ❀John Dorie ❀Nick Clark

Mayans MC ❀Ezekiel Reyes ❀Angel Reyes ❀Neron "Creeper" Vargas ❀Johnny "Coco" Cruz ❀Nestor Oceteva ❀Hank Loza ❀Gilberto "Gilly" Lopez ❀Bishop Losa ❀Che "Taza" Romero

Sons of Anarchy ❀Jax Teller ❀Harry "Opie" Winston ❀Juan "Juice" Ortiz ❀Alexander "Tig" Tragger ❀David Hale ❀Chibs Telford ❀Bobby Muson ❀Happy Lowman ❀Herman Kozik

Marvel ❀Steve Rogers ❀Bucky Barnes ❀Sam Wilson ❀Joaquin Torres ❀Baron Helmut Zemo ❀Tony Stark ❀Bruce Banner ❀Clint Barton ❀Thor ❀Loki ❀Pietro Maximoff ❀James "Rhodey" Rhodes ❀John Walker ❀Eddie Brock ❀Erik Killmonger ❀Charlies Xavier ❀Druig ❀Ikaris ❀Hank Mccoy ❀Frank Castle ❀Billy Russo ❀Danny Rand ❀Matthew Murdock ❀Kraven the Hunter ❀Dane Whitman ❀Wade Wilson ❀Pior "Colussus" Rasputin

DC ❀Adrian Chase ❀Clark Kent ❀Arthur Curry ❀Hank Hall ❀Leonard Snart ❀The Joker (Heath Ledgeer) ❀Victor Zsasz (Gotham) ❀Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham) ❀Edward Nygma (Gotham) ❀Harvey Bullock ❀Christopher "Peacemaker" Smith ❀Jerome Valeska ❀Mick Rory ❀George "Digger"Harkness ❀Ciso Ramon ❀Ray Palmer ❀Bruce Wayne ❀Chato Santanna ❀Rick Flag ❀Alfred Pennyworth

The Batman 2022 (Matt Reeves) ❀Oswald Cobb

Stranger things ❀Eddie Munson ❀Steve Harrington ❀Jim Hopper ❀Dr Alexie

Vikings ❀Ivar the boneless ❀Rollo ❀Ragnar Lothbrok ❀Ubbe ❀Sigurd ❀Bjorn Ironside ❀Halfdan the black ❀Harald Finehair ❀Aethelred ❀Aethelstan ❀Alfred

Bridgerton ❀Prince Fredrich ❀Anthony Bridgerton ❀Benedict Bridgerton ❀Colin Bridgerton

The Witcher ❀Jaskier ❀Eskel ❀Geralt of Rivia ❀Lambert

Top Gun ❀Robert "Bob" Floyd ❀Jake "Hangman" Seresin ❀Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Shadow Hunters ❀Raphael Santiago ❀Simon Lewis

Fast and Furious ❀Deckard Shaw ❀Han Lue ❀Jakob Toretto ❀Dante Reyes ❀Aimes ❀Owen Shaw

Zoo ❀Mitch Morgan ❀Jackon Oz

Twilight ❀Carlise Cullen ❀Charlie Swan ❀Sam Uley ❀Garrett ❀Emmett Cullen

Ewan Mitchell Characters ❀Tom Bennett ❀Micheal Gavey ❀Billy Washington

Joseph Quinn Characters ❀Tom Grant ❀Billy Knight

Henry Cavil Characters ❀Napleon Solo ❀Captain Syverson ❀Charles Brandon ❀Walter Marshall ❀Gus March Phillips ❀Sherlock Holmes

Chris Evans Characters ❀Ari Levinson ❀Hugh Ransom Drysdale ❀Loyd Hansen ❀Andy Barber

Primeval ❀Connor Temple

Law and Order - SVU ❀Rafael Barba

Criminal Minds ❀Spencer Reid ❀Derek Morgan ❀Luke Alverez

9-1-1 ❀Evan "Buck" Buckley ❀Eddie Diaz ❀Albert Han ❀Howard "Chimney" Han

Station 19 ❀Dean Miller ❀Jack Gibson

Chicago PD ❀Kevin Atwater

Chicago Fire ❀Kelly Severide ❀Matt Casey ❀Brian "Otis" Zvoneck

Call of Duty ❀Simon "Ghost" Riley ❀Captain John Price ❀Alex Keller ❀John "Soap" McTavish ❀Koing ❀Phillip Graves ❀Nikolai ❀Kyle "Gaz Garrick ❀Alejandro Vargas ❀Rudolfo "Rudy" Parra ❀Vladimir Makarov

Grimm ❀Nick Burkhadt ❀Monroe ❀Captain Sean Renard

Beauty and the Beast ❀The Beast ❀Gaston

Shameless ❀Lip Gallagher ❀Kevin Ball

Black Sails ❀Long John Silver ❀Charles Vane ❀Jack Rackham ❀Captain James flint

The Night Agent ❀Peter Sutherland

Harry Potter; ❀Remus Lupin ❀Sirius Black ❀James Potter ❀Oliver Wood ❀Percy Weasley ❀Charlie Weasley ❀Fred Weasley ❀George Weasley ❀Bill Weasley ❀Viktor Krum ❀Neville Longbottom ❀Cedric Diggory ❀Severus Snape ❀Cormac Mclaggen

Fantastic Beasts and where to find them ❀Thesus Scamander ❀Newt Scamander

Vampire Diaries ❀Damon Salvatore ❀Stefan Salvatore ❀Enzo St John

The Originals ❀Niklaus Mikealson ❀Elijah Mikealson ❀Kol Mikealson

Maze Runner ❀Gally

Greys Anatomy ❀George O'Malley

The Mummy ❀Rick O'Connell ❀Ardeth Bay

Once Upon a time ❀Killian Jones ❀David Nolan ❀August Wayne Booth ❀Neal "Bealfire" Cassidy ❀Rumplestiltskin ❀Sheriff Graham Humbert ❀Jefferson

The Musketeers (BBC) ❀Porthos ❀Aramis ❀Athos ❀D'Artagnan

The Last Of Us ❀ Tommy Miller ❀Joel Miller

Fargo ❀Gator Tillman

Sebastian Stan Characters ❀Nick Fowler ❀Lee Bodecker ❀Mickey

Lewis Pullman Characters ❀Rhett Abbott

American Gods ❀Mad Sweeney

Scream ❀Dewey Riley ❀Billy Loomis ❀Stu Matcher

Shadow and Bone ❀Matthias Helvar ❀Kaz Brekker ❀Jesper Fahey ❀Nikolai Lantsov

Reacher ❀Jack Reacher

Bullet Train ❀Tangerine

Percy Jackson ❀Poseidon ❀Hepheastus ❀Aries ❀Hades

The Last Kingdom ❀Osferth ❀Finnan ❀Sihtric ❀Ulthred

AEW ❀Maxwell Jacob Friendman ❀Wardlow ❀Eddie Kingston ❀Orange Cassidy ❀Chuck Taylor ❀Trent Berretta ❀Cash Wheeler ❀Luchasarus ❀Hook ❀Kenny Omega ❀Daniel Garcia ❀Will Osprey

WWE ❀Damien Priest ❀Grayson Waller ❀Sheamus ❀Otis

[bucksangel]

It’s About the Acceptance

Pairing: bi!Taza Romero x bi!Reader (Reader is described to have breasts, but no gender/pronouns are mentioned, and no description of race or body type is mentioned(please let me know if i missed anything))

Summary: “Pain is different for everybody, but I understand how hard this can be, how hard it is to lose someone over things outside of your control. But I’m here with you, until the end of time, mi sol. You’re who you are for a reason, and I love every bit of who you are.”

Word Count: 2k

Gif made by me

Warnings: angst, talks of homophobia, but taza comes to the rescue being very soft and encouraging, lots of emotions, lots of love

Tip Jar

tag list: @melaniecraig80 @est1887 @iamthegraham

Posting new fics over on @michaelirby

Once again, Santo Padre delivers another heat wave, the sun above shining down and scorching its people. The little wind that does pass through just picks up dirt and sand, making it difficult to breathe without coughing. Luckily, you’re not outside - anymore. Spending your off day tending to the ranch had you working up a sweat and bordering on heat exhaustion. Now that you’re finally inside, you’re peeling off the sports bra you’ve come to regret putting on this morning, and switching your jean shorts for looser, more comfortable ones. However, just because you’re inside doesn’t mean you don’t still have things to do.

You’ve decided just that morning that you were going to reorganize the various bookshelves around the house. What with the spotty wi-fi and an older-than-most TV, it gives you something to entertain yourself until Taza gets home. The two bookshelves in your bedroom were easy, it was mostly dusting and rearranging the few pictures, memento’s, and a collection of children’s books your mother had since she was a child that she passed down to you (despite most of them having the binding broken and a missing page or two, you insist on keeping them for the memories).

It’s while you’re in the process of sorting through the shelves in the living room that you see a photo album (a scrapbook is more accurate) you had made a few years ago. To be totally honest, you’d forgotten about it. It blends in with the other books so well that it’s hard to recognize it at first glance. You’re filled with a rush of happiness as you run your fingers over the cover, the memories in this album were the best of the best, things you wouldn’t have changed for the world. You decide then that the assortment of items scattered across the floor can wait to be put back in their places.

Sitting comfortably on the couch, your legs are folded underneath you and the book lays on the cushions. Thumbing idly through the pages, you smile at some of the pictures and laugh at others, your heart expanding at every memory that comes flooding back. You’re only about ten pages in when you hear footsteps making their way down the hall. Mildly alarmed, you spin your head around and jump slightly. Taza’s presence nearly right behind you had startled you, but you’re thankful it was him and not an intruder.

“What is all this, mi alma?” He nods his head towards the mess on the floor and then the empty bookshelves, and you giggle.

“I’m organizing, obviously,” You smile up at him, and it widens when he shakes his head.

“Well, you seem to have gotten distracted then,” Taza chuckles softly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head so he can lean down and place a gentle kiss on your forehead. “What are you looking at?” Again, he nods to the book next to you.

“Oh!” You gasp, turning back to it and lifting it so your Old Man can see the pages. “I made this scrapbook when I was twenty, it holds some of my favorite memories.” Glancing down towards the album, your smile softens. A picture of you at twelve years old reading to your baby cousins fills your body with joy.

Taza smiles down at you, he’s always happy as long as you are. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asks, he’s never looked through the book, the occasion just hasn’t come up, but he’s more than happy to look back on your childhood and teen years with you.

“Sure,” You say, voice soft as you look up at him with a glimmer in your eyes. Taza moves around the couch to sit next to you and you place the book on your thighs so he can see.

You’ve talked to Taza about your friends growing up, and now that he’s able to put faces to the names, he somehow understands those stories and anecdotes a little better now. Thirty pages into the book and there’s a collage of pictures of you and your best friend Megan. You’re both about fourteen in the photos, the clothes you’re wearing and the odd poses make that very clear.

You’re barely able to register the pictures when Taza asks, “Who is that?” You can tell he’s curious, and as you turn to look at him, your throat closes, mouth impossibly dry. You know you can trust him, you trust him with your life, and, logically, you know he would never judge you. That doesn’t mean that telling someone for the first time that you’re not straight isn’t a little scary. But, you suck it up and figure that this is as good a time as any.

“She..” You voice trails off, and you look back down at the photos with a sad smile. “She was my best friend, ever since we were twelve we were inseparable and insufferable.” Chuckling softly, the page gets turned and another picture of you and Megan, this time in the matching outfits you wore on your first day of high school, sits in the middle.

It’s his sixth sense, Taza can quickly pick up on your mood changes, and your mood seems to have changed drastically. So, he decides to try and lighten your spirits with his next comment, “You definitely look like you got into some trouble.” He smiles when he’s able to pull a laugh from you.

“Oh, definitely. But everyone around us was just jealous of the fun we were having, I’m sure of it.” Your smile widens a little and you look back up to Taza, who’s already looking at you. And you know what he’s about to ask, so you decide to beat him to the punch. “I know I haven’t talked to you about her, it’s a little bit of a… sore topic.” Smiling weakly at him, you glance down to where his hand envelops one of yours.

Breathing deeply, your eyes meet his again, and the absolute love and care he has for you causes a twinkle in his eyes. It’s a beautiful sight, truly. His hand squeezes yours, and you think that it’s now or never. “We were friends for what felt like forever, we clicked immediately. There were always sleep overs and we’d go on spring break vacations together with our families. She was my best friend. She was one of the few people I was so sure would be in my life forever. But-” You cough slightly, a weak attempt at covering up the quiver in your voice.

Taza’s hand squeezes yours again, gently encouraging you to continue. “She moved away when we were seventeen, it was a sudden change, neither of us knew it was coming. But, her family found out that I was bisexual. I’d known since I was thirteen that I wasn’t like the other girls at my school, and I’d told Megan all about it. She was the first person I felt comfortable with to share that with.”

Another gently encouraging squeeze and a tear runs down your cheek that your boyfriend is quick to thumb away. “When we were fifteen, she finally felt comfortable enough with herself to come out to me, and I was happy for her. I knew how hard it was to figure out who I truly was and she was there, by my side with me for it. So I was going to be there for her. The only problem was that her parents, they-” You cough again and sniffle, your eyes never faltering from Taza’s gaze. “Her parents weren’t the most understanding nor loving people. To this day I don’t know how they found out but, when we were sixteen, they got word that I wasn’t straight and they forbade Megan from speaking to me ever again.”

Your man places a soft kiss to your forehead, and you find the courage to continue with the story. “Of course, we still hung out, we just had to be careful about anyone seeing us and it getting back to her parents. But when we were seventeen, they found out Megan was gay. It wasn’t pretty, Megan wouldn’t even tell me the extent of the blow out they had, all she would tell me was that they blamed me. They said that my queerness ‘tainted’ her, it was my fault that their daughter wasn’t as ‘perfect’ as she should have been.”

Sniffling again, your voice shakes a little, “The last time I saw her was the night of their fight, she came to my house, sobbing. She didn’t know what she was going to do, if her parents would kick her out, disown her, or worse. I remember how I hugged her the tightest I’d ever hugged anyone. I remember how she cried into my shoulder, and how I tried and tried to calm her down, to comfort her. But then..” Taza kisses your forehead again, and you lean your head into his to envelop yourself into his warmth.

“I didn’t hear from her again. I found out a week later that she had moved to another state, but no one would tell me where. Her parents changed her number, put her in a strict private school and then shipped her off to a Catholic University, they uprooted her entire life because they saw me as the person that ruined their family, their child.” You sigh, you feel almost freer, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders ever so slightly. “So, I haven’t talked to her since. I don’t know where she is, if she’s okay, if she’s happy. She was my best friend, she was the first person to truly accept me and love me for who I was, and I can’t shake the feeling that I did ruin her life. If only I wasn’t gay, if only they hadn’t found out, if only we listened when her parents told her not to talk to me.”

Face smushed into Taza’s, you let out a shaky breath and squeeze his hand to let him know that you’re finished, that you’ve released all the emotions that you’re willing to let go of today. Your man rests his chin atop your head, tears of his own falling down his cheeks because he knows, he knows how it feels to lose someone you love just because you’re a little different.

It’s silent for several minutes, both of your bodies entangled with the scrapbook pushed to the side, one of Taza’s hand clutches yours while his other rubs your back in soothing circles. You’ve calmed down drastically, your entire soul is bared to this man, your entire, true self, and you’re happy for it. Your man lets out a deep sigh before he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and then he’s speaking with a calm, reassuring tone. “The first man I’ve ever truly loved was taken from me too. Somewhat similar to yours, but he ended up dead, killed because of who and how he loved.”

You tilt your head back so you’re looking at Taza, and muster up a smile, one of understanding, one of encouragement. A kiss is placed to his forehead this time and it pulls a quiet laugh from his chest. “Pain is different for everybody, but I understand how hard this can be, how hard it is to lose someone over things outside of your control. But I’m here with you, until the end of time, mi sol. You’re who you are for a reason, and I love every bit of who you are.”

Both yours and Taza’s cheeks are wet. You’ve stopped crying, leaving your eyes a light shade of red and your faces a little warm. Everything is quiet in the house except for your breathing, a sense of calm and love surrounds you both. Everything feels right in the world, for once you’re able to give all of yourself to someone, it’s freeing. “I love you too, Taza. Every bit of you.”

[mayans-mc]

Mayans MC gif meme → 6 characters [1/6]: Che 'Taza' Romero __________________________ ... I was in love. And I'm not ashamed about that. Or what I've done since. All that I've caused. I needed Palo to pay. I didn't know so many would get hurt. And now I'm afraid that it's not over. I'm tired, Bish. Fսcking tired. I love you, brother. Do what you have to do.

[bullet-prooflove]

Rough: Che 'Taza' Romero (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @drabbles-mc @ficnation @keyweegirlie @aconfusedidentity

Sometimes Ben needs it a little rough. He likes to be manhandled, fucked until every one of the intrusive thoughts he has spills from his head.

Taza’s learned to recognise the mood, it’s in the stiffness in his lover’s shoulders, the way he carries himself. When he kisses him, there’s a hunger in it, a neediness. Ben’s hips arch against his, a filthy little whine emitting low in his throat when Taza’s fingers run though his hair, tugging just a little.

“What do you need?” Taza asks him, his breath ghosting in Ben’s ear as his heated lips trail down the curve of his neck.

“Hard.” Ben whispers, his voice husky. “Rough.”

It ends with the two of them in bed, Taza’s cock buried deep inside Ben. His muscular arm clasping him to his chest, pinning him against his body as he fucks Ben hard. Each thrust brushes over his prostate, sending an explosion of ecstasy chasing through Ben’s nerve endings. His palm drifts down to Ben’s cock, thumb teasing over the leaking tip before his fingers wrap around the shaft. He’s firm with his motions, relentless. Ben moans and it’s loud, the way it always is when Taza fucks him like this. Taza’s palm comes to cover Ben’s mouth, stifling the sound of his pleasure. It heightens the sensation for the both of them, Ben can hear the smile in Taza’s voice as he whispers.

“That’s it my love, give it to me.”

It’s those words that tip him over the edge, the roughness in Taza’s voice. His climax is violent and all consuming, it explodes through his synapses, tearing through him like an IED as he comes in long, hot spurts across Taza’s fist. One final thrust into his ass and Taza erupts inside of him, his palm sliding down to Ben’s jaw, directing his mouth back to his. His kisses are messy and languid, the perfect blend of tenderness and passion as Ben comes down from the high.

“I needed this.” Ben whispers against his lips. “Sometimes I get into my own head…”

“I know.” Taza tells him, his thumb ghosting over his cheek. “And I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

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[mysoulisasunflower]

Angel Reyes & Coco Cruz

Mayans MC | 1.2 "Escorpión/Dzec"

[dallianceangel]

˗ˏˋ𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒ˎˊ˗

I am currently taking writing requests for…

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘

Jax Teller

Happy Lowman

Chibs Telford

Clay Morrow

Tig Trager

Juice Ortiz

Bobby Munson

Opie Winston

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐌.𝐂.

Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa

EZ Reyes

Angel Reyes

Johnny ‘El Coco’ Cruz

Che 'Taza’ Romero

𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒

Luke Danes

Kirk Gleason

Gil

Jess Mariano

Dean Forester

Logan Huntzberger

Jackson Belleville

Tom

Max Medina

Christopher Hayden

Taylor Doose

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄

Michael Scott

Dwight Schrute

Jim Halpert

Andy Bernard

Kevin Malone

Stanley Hudson

Toby Flenderson

Ryan Howard

Darryl Philbin

Roy Anderson

David Wallace

Bob Vance

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

Ross Geller

Joey Tribbiani

Chandler Bing

Phoebe Buffay

Monica Geller

Rachel Green

Dr. Richard Burke

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐕

Trevor Philips

Michael De Santa

Franklin Clinton

Lamar Davis

Jimmy De Santa

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich

Neil Fak

Michael Berzatto

Marcus Brooks

Luca

[sonhosquebrados]

Raoul Max Trujillo and horse

[drabbles-mc]

Degrees of Separation: Chapter Index

Taza Romero x M!Reader

Summary: You transferred out of Yuma and into Santo Padre in a last-ditch attempt to outrun old ghosts and old problems. The small charter, located in an even smaller border-town, seemed like the perfect place to try and shake off everything that had happened to you so that you could start over. You were ready to live with your old secrets. But the deeper you get into the charter, the more you realize you may have simply traded in your old secrets for new ones, and this time you wouldn't be going down for them alone.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[abbatoirablaze]

Living Off The Land, Taza

Word Count:  452

Warnings:  none really.

Taza sat on an old tree stump, watching as you absorbed the wilderness around you, admiring the little things; like how the sun was setting amidst the desert, or how he found the spot that you two were camped out at.  You looked wondrously at every little thing.  He smiled as you asked about the flowers, or small plants that somehow managed to thrive in the Californian desert. 

“Little flower, you are very curious,” he chuckled, taking a drag on his cigarette, “this really is like a camping trip to you, isn’t it?”

Your smile lit up his world, sending shocks through every fiber of his being, “is that such a bad thing?  You’re teaching me to live off the grid with you, right?”

“That I am.”

“Then let us live!”

His heart warmed as you stalked towards him, before finally landing on his lap.  His arms wrapped protectively around you, and you gazed down towards the fire that started to light up the surrounding area while the sun began to set. 

You were sucked into the call of the nature, and he didn’t want to bother you, but the frown that peaked onto your lips made his heart whimper.  He began to rock the two of you gently, humming a song that he remembered from his childhood.  Your frown settled on your face, and he could see that you were lost in your thoughts.

You glared at the flames.

“What is wrong, little flower?”

“It’s nothing…I just…”

“Look at me, my love,” he asked softly, “tell me that while looking at me.”

Your attention turned towards him with razor speed and accuracy.  He frowned when he noticed your eyes glossy with tears, “what if he changes his mind, Taza?”

This time it was his turn to frown, “Bishop wouldn’t change his mind, sweetheart.  We got nothing to worry about.  We’re living off the land for a reason.  He gave me his word that we would be left alone.”

Your hand stroked his cheek, and you felt a tugging in your chest, “but what if he does break his word?  You’re done with the club.  You’re done fighting.  Do you even have a gun anymore?”

He shook his head, “I don’t need a gun to kill, little flower.  But this is all stuff that you shouldn’t concern yourself with.  We’ll be fine...”

“But how do you know that?”

“I just do,” he said simply, his arms tightening around your waist.  Your eyes met again when he saw the slightest bump in your shirt.  His grip loosened and his hand rubbed over your stomach, “trust me…I won’t let anyone hurt my little flowers.   I would protect the two of you with my life.”