#hank loza fic

[bullet-prooflove]

Okay, how about “you need stitches and bedrest, not booze and more fights.” From the lover’s injury prompt list you reblogged for Hank (I am so giddy to see how you portray him, I’m sure it’s going to be amazing!)

You tell Hank as the two of you sit at your kitchen table, your medical kit laid out on the surface.

His jaw clenches as you apply the antiseptic wipe to the gash near his temple. It's the only sign that he's in any pain at all.

"Ok, so we aren't going to talk about this?" You say as you reach inside the kit for the butterfly stitches. "Why you turned up at my house in the middle of the night looking like you've been in a fight and smelling of whisky."

"Not my whiskey." He says quietly.

That's a relief because it means he didn't drink and ride which you guess is a small mercy. His eyes are on your face and you can tell he's studying your expression.

"I miss you." He tells you as you apply the stitches firmly.

"I miss you too." You say focusing your attention on the task at hand. "But you were the one who decided to end things."

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, he captures your hand as you try to draw away. He presses it to his cheek, his gaze fixing on yours as your thumb ghosts over his cheek bone. He inhales, savouring that sensation of your touch.

"What if I made a mistake?" He asks you.

"Did you?"

"Yea." He says, his voice gruff as his lips trail over your pulse point. "I think I did."

[the-hinky-panda]

The Preacher's Wife: Escape (Part II)

TW: Spousal abuse: physical, metal, emotional, and sexual

Maggie pushes her food around on her plate, making designs in the teriyaki sauce from the grilled salmon. She lines up her asparagus in a tic-tac-toe grid and uses the small red potatoes to fill in the spaces. She glances up at the clock. Eight fifteen. It’s Thursday night, and Hank is probably washing the dishes from dinner with his mom. Consuela is probably sitting in front of the TV, watching whatever sitcom is on, crocheting. 

God, how she wishes she was with them at the moment. 

“Margaret?” 

Her eyes snap up to her husband, Simon Peters. Named for the occupation he has pursued, pastor of a megachurch, the shepherd of souls who love God.. Dressed impeccably in a dress shirt and designer jeans, his hair perfectly groomed in the latest style, seated at the head of the table. The master of his house. “Yes?” 

His cold blue eyes narrow slightly. “Are you alright? You’re very quiet.” 

She hears the veiled threat under his polite, concerned tone. Pay attention. Make me look good. Don’t embarrass me. She forces a smile and straightens her back. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired.” She looks over at the young, newlywed couple that are their dinner guests this evening. “Lydia and Asher wanted me to play in the pool with them today. I guess it took more out of me than I thought.” 

The young woman, Heather, takes her husband’s hand. “I can’t wait to have my own children.” 

Maggie glances over at Simon and gives a forced smile herself. “Children can be a blessing. I do wish I had spent more time learning how to be a wife before becoming a mother though.” Instead, she had married at nineteen and had Lydia ten months later. She had been so naive, believing that she was fulfilling her life plan. Growing up, she had been told that fulfillment was found in family: husband and children. And while she loved both Lydia and Asher, she had also come to realize that joy is found in a variety of things. To keep it constrained to a spouse and children was stifling. 

“God’s timing is perfect though. Lydia arrived exactly when she should have.” Simon picks up his wine glass. “And people who have been married for fifty years or more are still learning how to be the best spouses they can.” 

“And what’s the secret?” the husband, Carter, asks. “You and Mrs. Peters make it look so easy.” 

Maggie feels like she’s going to throw up. She wants to tell this young couple to run as far and as fast as they can from this house. It’s all fake. There’s no love here, no warmth. Her chest physically aches from the longing of wanting that home, that love. That hope. 

“Well, the secret is simple,” Simon says. “Draw closer to God, draw closer to each other. That’s it.” 

Maggie takes a healthy sip of her own wine and swallows down a follow up question of her own concerning the leather restraints and gag that are sitting in the bedside drawer right now. The restraints that she said she did not want to use only to find them wrapped around her wrists when she woke up in the middle of the night. Was that drawing closer to each other? She certainly didn’t think so. 

“And speaking of drawing closer to God,” Simon slips into his preacher’s voice, “this brings me to the reason why Carter and Heather are joining us here this evening.” 

That phrase, the reason why, makes Maggie’s hair stand on end. She becomes hypervigilant, taking in everything in the room. The tightening of the couple’s hands, the embarrassed blush staining Heather’s cheeks. The subtle slide of her eyes over to Simon, who gives her a small nod. How does Carter not see that, see that secretive look? Maybe he doesn’t know, doesn’t have enough experience with infidelity to recognize it. But then Carter looks over at Maggie, his eyes intent as they focus on her face, her lips…her breasts. Maggie pushes her chair back, her desire to flee prompting the motion, when Simon clears his throat. 

“Heather, sadly, is unable to conceive a child on her own.” Simon stands and slowly makes his way over to Maggie. “She and Carter came to me last week asking for prayers and guidance on what the next step should be. So I took the weekend and went into the wilderness and asked God for an answer. This is what He told me.” 

Maggie sways in her chair, feeling sick and lightheaded. Simon steadies her by digging his fingers into her shoulders. 

“God told me that the answer lies in the Old Testament story of the trials of Abraham and Sarah. When Sarah couldn’t conceive, she gave her maid to Abraham and Abraham was able to have a son. So, I give my wife to you so that you may achieve this blessed, and wonderful experience of parenthood.”

He gives her to them, like she’s a possession. Something to be borrowed and returned. She knows better from his phrasing and example, that a clinic for in vitro fertilization was not going to be considered. And if that wasn’t enough, then the leering look that Carter is giving her from across the table is enough to solidify her worst fears. Her stomach roils and she twists her way out of Simon’s grip. 

“Excuse me,” she mutters, running towards the bathroom. 

She locks the door because she can hear Simon’s footsteps behind her. She vomits what little dinner she managed to eat and then sits on the bathroom floor, her back against the wall. She wipes the tears from her eyes with shaking hands. 

“Margaret? Are you okay?” 

The fake sincerity drips from his words. Maggie pulls out her phone from her back pocket and opens her text messages. She needs help. She needs to get out. The door knob moves as Simon tries to open the door. She selects Morgan’s name and manages to type okay, it’s time and sends it off. 

“Margaret.” 

Simon’s patience has run out so she pushes herself up the wall. She turns the water on, more to drown out anything they will say to each other, and she unlocks the door. He’s through it immediately, slamming the door behind him. Maggie prays for deliverance. 

“Pull yourself together,” he demands. “This is happening tonight.” 

“Simon-” 

“And every Saturday night until they get what they want.” 

Anger is replacing the shock. “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just fuck her during one of your ‘counseling’ sessions and leave me out of it?” 

“Do you know who they are? They are Silicon Valley royalty, the both of them. That’s about 4 billion dollars worth of income sitting at our dining room table and all they want is a kid. Do you know what that kind of money could do for us?” 

“Oh, draining them of their money makes a wife swap so much more tolerable.” Maggie crossed her arms. “I’m not doing this.” 

Simon gives her a wicked smile. “Oh, I think you will. Holly Singer.” 

Maggie feels her blood run cold. “What?” 

“Oh yeah, I know about your books, Holly. So this is how it’s going to go. You’re going to go back out there, do whatever that man tells you to do. And if you’re finding it hard to get in the mood, just pretend you’re one of the sluts you love to write about in your filthy little novels.” 

Well, if God isn’t going to deliver her, then she’ll have to deliver herself. She starts looking for anything to fight back against Simon so she can get out of the bathroom, but all the decorations are too flimsy to inflict any damage. But then, from the other side of the door, comes a tiny little voice. 

“Mommy?” 

Asher, her little three-year-old savior. “Yes, baby?” 

“I don’t feel good.” 

Bless him and whatever it is that roused him from his sleep. Simon’s jaw is tensed, his back teeth practically cracking as he grinds them together. He can’t force anything on her now if one of the kids needs her. Maggie steps around him and opens the door. Asher is standing there, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction, as he holds a small hand over his right ear. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” she asks, picking him up. 

“My ear hurts and I can’t sleep.”

Maggie gives a pointed look at Simon. “Please tell Heather and Carter that I’m sorry I won’t be back out there tonight as my son needs me.” 

She knows he’s going to make her pay for that later but she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it. She puts ear drops in Asher’s ear, gently massaging the side of his little neck to help alleviate the discomfort. She hums “Annie’s Song” twice through and soon, he’s back to sleep in his own bed. She checks her phone before leaving the safety of his room and sees that Morgan has responded already. 

When?

Tomorrow? Is that even possible?

I will make it happen. And I’ll be bringing back-up. I’ll let you know when we’re in the area.

Thank you. She doesn’t need to ask who the back-up is going to be. Morgan had told her she’s put the entire MC on alert so that as many as can come will make the ride up to La Jolla to move her and the kids to safety. Maggie erases the messages from her phone so Simon won’t find them. She already has bags packed for the kids and herself. Clothes, documents, jewelry, cash, all packed up in suitcases and backpacks, stored away in the crawlspace in Asher’s closet. All she needs to do is grab them and the kids and run. She slips the phone back into her pants pocket as she closes Asher’s door quietly behind her. When she turns around, something strikes her across her face, knocking her against the wall.. 

Simon. 

She smooths her hair back from her face and covers her stinging cheek with her hand. He’s standing just a couple feet away from her, a scowl on his classically handsome features. 

“Don’t you ever embarrass me like that again.” He rolls up his shirt sleeves. “They’ll be back tomorrow evening and you will have that child for them.” 

Knowing the calvary is coming tomorrow has made her brave. “And what if she’s not the problem? What if it’s him? Guess you’ll have to be the one to knock her up. What a shame.” 

She moves away from him but he grabs her arm, pushing her back against the wall again. This time, it’s not a slap. Stars erupt behind her eyes when his fist connects with her face and the back of her head hits the wall. His hand rests at the base of her throat, just enough pressure to hold her upright.“Or I just knock you up again. We both know how easy that is.” 

Maggie’s stomach drops at the memories of waking up, drowsy and disoriented, finding Simon on top of her. Too weak to fight him off, too out of it to properly register what was going on. It started happening when she was sleeping in one of the guestrooms, after waking up with her hands restrained in the leather cuffs that one time. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she started waking up with bruises on her wrists and thighs, the sheets and her skin smelling like Simon. She tried to deny it was happening, spending hours scrubbing herself clean in the shower, but then she became pregnant with Asher. She couldn’t deny the abuse at that point. 

That was when she started planning her escape, stashing money, moving assets around, letting Morgan in on what her life was like, albeit a more PG-13 version than the full blown truth. She survived six years in this gilded prison and tomorrow was going to be her day to break free. She knows if she gets too cocky, too confident, then Simon is going to know something is up. So she ducks her head and meekly nods her head. She shows him that she is the epitome of defeat of submission.

“Alright, Simon. Tomorrow night.” She nods in resolution to her fate. “I will follow God’s path for my life.” 

“That’s my sweet, obedient wife,” he presses a kiss against her cheek. “Now, let’s get some sleep so you’re well rested for tomorrow evening.” 

“Okay.” 

She glances at her watch. It’s almost midnight. Just a few more hours until Morgan and the Mayans MC show up to rescue her.  

[drabbles-mc]

Coming Along

Hank Loza x GN!Reader

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.

Prompt: garden

Word Count: 300

A/N: this is it! we did it, friends! this was such an interesting writing exercise/challenge in terms of self control keeping under a specific word count, and being flexible enough to write a fic no matter who the wheel gave me. i highly recommend because it definitely got me out of my comfort zone! hope you've all enjoyed the fics as well! xo

Hank was able to do and take care of a lot for his mom, but realistically there were only so many hours in a day. There was a small list of things around her house that he knew he had to take care of, things that she couldn’t do herself.

He never put any of it on your plate, knowing that you were also busy. But he couldn’t pretend it didn’t melt him inside when he showed up to his mother’s house after wrapping things up with the club, and already seeing your car parked in her driveway.

He made his way towards the house. Letting himself in, he didn’t hear anything in the kitchen or living room. It wasn’t until he walked farther into the house and got near the back door that he heard the two of you, relieved to hear you both laughing.

Walking out into the back yard, he saw you kneeling on the ground, planting flowers in his mother’s freshly-weeded garden. That was a task she’d mentioned to him multiple times but it hadn’t ever made it to the top of the priority list. Clearly, though, the two of you had taken care of it in his absence.

Neither of you even noticed him at first, too busy talking and laughing with each other as you tried to figure out the best placement for all the flowers and plants you’d bought. Hank lingered silently for a moment just to revel in the sights and sounds of it all before he finally cleared his throat and stepped out of the house and onto the grass.

“Looks good back here,” he said as he went and gave his mother a hug, followed by going and giving you a kiss.

“It’s coming along,” you said with a smile.

[garbinge]

Contaminated (13/?)

Angel Reyes x OC Lara Barrera Losa OC Lara Losa x OC Frankie Loza

From these August Prompts:  “Damage Control"

A/N: Update for my girlies <3 and Angel lol.

For a refresh, all the chapter links are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of death, losing a loved one, Alzheimers, cancer, light angst, cursing. . 

Word Count: 1.8k 

Taglist: (Just let me know if you want to be added :) @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time (it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, if I’ve forgot to add you to the taglist or you’d like to be tagged just let me know!)

“So this has been going on for five years?” Frankie sat at the kitchen island trying to wrap her brain around everything. 

“No, once five years ago. And now, only for a few months.” Lara explained. 

“Months?!” Frankie’s eyes went bug eyed. 

“Weeks! A few weeks!” Lara corrected herself to ease Frankie more into it. She was in full damage control mode and trying to back track her mistake of not telling her best friend about her and Angel, although classifying it as a mistake wasn’t exactly true. She had her reasons for not saying anything but she was regretting her finding out this way. Lara’s eyes moved over to the person to her right expecting him to chime in but Angel was too busy stuffing his face. 

Lara closed her eyes and took a big sigh before looking back at Frankie. 

“I was going to tell you, I promise I was going to tell you.” Her hand extended across the island to grab Frankie’s. “I just, things are really complicated right now. I didn’t wanna risk Bishop finding out and honestly we weren’t really sure this was anything until yesterday anyways.” 

At that Angel looked up from his plate, “Um, no I was actually sure, just following your lead.” 

Lara looked at him with a frown and then back at Frankie, “Alright well I wasn’t sure this was anything so I wanted to wait to tell you.”

Frankie just sat there, frown on her face, more confused than angry as she took in all the information.

“Are you happy?” She looked at Lara and asked, her face was serious. 

Lara looked at Frankie for a split second before looking over to Angel who was also waiting for her response. Her silence was bringing anxiety to everyone in the room except herself. Turning back to Frankie she nodded. 

“The happiest I’ve been since Aiden.” She knew Frankie would get that, Lara loved her little brother like anyone would have loved and cared for their little sibling, but Aiden brought Lara pure joy into her life and when he died that light in Lara went with him. 

“Okay then.” Frankie said with a nod and she stood up getting ready to leave. 

“I’m going up north with Hank today to see my grandma.” She was grabbing her bag and situating it back over her pajamas. 

“It’s like 5 in the morning.” Angel said confused since the girl had just gotten home an hour ago and was pretty drunk. 

Lara knew though. This time of year was difficult for everyone. For Lara and Bishop it brought up the painful memories of losing Aiden. For Frankie and Hank it was his mother, her grandmother, while she was still alive, she was going downhill but they still went up every year around this time to celebrate the anniversary of her beating cancer. It was fucked up that the year she beat cancer the early onset of Alzheimer's began. It gave them an excuse to visit her and ring the bell every year, though and it did bring some happiness to each of them to see her celebrate it. 

“I completely spaced.” Lara said realizing it was one of the reasons she had gotten drunk. “Do you need a ride?” Yes, Lara was sucking up, but that’s what you did when you were in full damage control mode with your best friend. You kissed her ass. 

“No Hank’s picking me up, I’m gonna wait outside for him.” She squeezed Lara’s arm and gave a half smile even though it looked more like a frown. “I’m happy you’re happy. You deserve that.” 

As Frankie passed Angel she leaned over to give him a quick goodbye. “If you hurt her I’ll fuckin’ gut you.” It was said at such a whisper, Angel almost missed it but he didn’t. His eyes went wide and his brows met in the middle of his forehead as the shock and confusion of what Frankie said to him settled in. As Frankie pulled away the smile on her face was like nothing of the sorts had just been spoken from her mouth. 

Lara walked Frankie to the door, there was so much more she wanted to say but right now wasn’t the right time. But she couldn’t just say nothing. 

“I want you to know it’s not because I didn’t trust you–”

“I know, Lara. It’s because you wanted to keep it yours. I get it.” The smile on Frankie’s face was a lot more genuine now, “but I’m still mad at you. And whatever this is, I expect it when I’m back.” She laughed, referring to Lara’s full kiss ass mode. 

The two hugged before Frankie walked out the door leaving Lara and Angel in the apartment by themselves. 

“That could’ve gone worse!” Angel said, standing up from the stool. 

“That could’ve gone better.” Lara said with an eye roll. 

“Well, I’m sure a couple hours of sleep will make you feel better.” Angel was practically begging to go back to bed. 

“You can go back to bed but I have tons of shit I need to get done.” Lara started picking through the cabinet under the sink for cleaning supplies. 

“What?” Angel frowned and looked at what Lara was doing. 

“I’m in full damage control mode, I’m gonna clean her room, like really clean her room and do her laundry.” Lara said in an obvious way like Angel should have known better. “Why don’t you go home, crash, and call me when you’re up, I’ll come over and we can stay at your place tonight. Give Frankie some space.” 

Angel was genuinely baffled and confused but knew better than to argue with the girl. “Sure, you don’t need help cleaning?” 

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll be good.” Lara smiled as Angel bent down and placed a kiss on her head.

Cleaning was actually pretty therapeutic for Lara, it gave her time to clear her head while also going through some thoughts and feelings she needed to sort out, doing this for Frankie felt like the right thing. She honestly didn’t hide it because she thought Frankie would tell Bishop it was exactly what Frankie said, she wanted it to be just her and Angel’s thing. No outside sway or opinions. It was dark by the time Angel called, Lara knew he had probably been up for a while and got called into club stuff, she didn’t mind, it gave her more time around the house. 

Now at Angel’s, the two of them were knocked out on the couch, both catching up on the hours they missed from the night prior. Hours must’ve passed by just with the TV playing overnight in the background while the two laid snoring on the couch. An alarm went off on someones phone, causing both of them to stir awake, both a little frightened while they searched for the source of the noise. 

“It’s not mine.” Angel said his voice groggy and raspy. 

“It’s mine, I have a shift. It’s already 7AM.” Lara sighed and plopped back down against Angel who had already tried to go back to sleep. 

“Call out.” Angel mumbled. 

“I wish, I need the money. I’m gonna shower.” Lara wasn’t exactly speaking at anything higher than a mumble either. “Please can you make me coffee?” 

The groan from Angel’s throat was one of annoyance but not one of defiance so Lara knew she’d have a hot cup of coffee when she got out of the shower which is what motivated her to get up in the first place. “Thank you.” 

______

“I don’t know what you did to get water pressure like that but I’m demanding you come to our apartment and do it to our shower.” Lara said as she walked through Angel’s house in one of his flannels and her hair wet ready for a coffee. 

To Lara’s surprise, Angel wasn’t alone, she walked right into the living room where EZ was with the biggest grin on his face. 

“Hi Lara.” He smiled from ear to ear. 

“Prospect.” She rolled her eyes, no need to hide now. If Frankie didn’t tell him, she eventually would have and there was no going back from or denying her swimming in Angel’s clothes. 

Angel had a cup of coffee in his hand and handed one to Lara. “EZ brought coffee, you can have mine.”

“If I knew you were gonna have company I would have brought three, or not come at all.” The grin on EZ’s face was getting bigger as he spoke, he wanted to boast and tell Angel every version of ‘I told you so’ that he could. 

Lara took two sips from the cup and handed it back to Angel. “Here I just needed a jolt, I gotta get ready and head out anyways, I’ll grab something on the way.” And before she could even let either of them respond she was running back into Angel’s room and tossing her all black hostess outfit on and tying her hair back. 

As the two boys stood alone in the living room, EZ wiggled his eyebrows at Angel which earned him a light shove and ‘shut the fuck up’ before Lara reappeared in the room. 

“Sorry to leave like this, thanks for the coffee sips.” She stood up on her tip toes to grab Angel’s head and leave a kiss on his lips before grabbing her purse off the hooks and going to the door to leave. “Bye EZ!” 

Now both the men were truly alone in Angel’s house, there was a couple seconds of silence before EZ spoke up. 

“So should I say I told you so, I was right, or something else? I’ll let you come up with it even, it can be a joint effort.” EZ was still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Man, shut up.” Angel turned to grab his kutte from the hooks. “I thought you needed me for club shit.” 

“I do, but this is just my reward for having to play hide n seek with the fuckin’ club. No one answers their phone this early.” 

“Yea bro, it’s 7 fuckin AM.” Angel’s eyebrows raised as he placed his kutte on and grabbed the coffee back to chug half of it down. “Come on let’s go.” 

“Yo,” EZ said as they started to head out themselves. “Don’t fuck this shit up.” It was serious, he wasn’t grinning anymore, it was coming from a genuine place. 

“Don’t go saying shit at the club, aight? Bish doesn’t know and I’m gonna let Lara tell me how she wants to deal with that.” Angel yelled back at his little brother and paused before speaking up again. 

“And I’m not gonna fuck it up.”

[justanoasisimagines]

Current Requests

Hey my lovelies, below is everything I have the intention to write. Please be paitent with me as some will get written quicker than others.

Dc;

-Oswald Cobb - Marriage Headcanons (Requested by @pinktree26)

Once Upon a time;

-Rumplestiltskin Drabble - Reader is a nanny to three children, her and Rumple meet up for a picnic (Requested by @twilightlover2007) -Killian Jones - Honeymoon Headcanons (Requested by Anon) -Killian Jones - Fic - Reader is under the sleeping curse placed on her by Rumple, Killian and the Charming's finally defeat him. Killian's kiss wakes her up proving they are each other's true love (Requested by Anon) -KIllian Jones - Fic - Reader has nightmares about a fiery room from the sleeping curse and Killian comforts her until eventually the nightmares go away (Requested by Anon)

Game of thrones;

-Robb Stark - Fic - Vampire!Reader, she has the power to talk to Greywind and other animals. Robb is her mate/ they meet when Robb is injured when he's hunting alone with only greywind at his side. Reader begins to visit Robb at night, she's kept as a secret. However, Robb begs her to turn him but she doesn't want him to be a 'souless monster (Requested by Anon) -Grenn - Fic - Reader is the only girl at the nights Watch and they have a secret relationship (Requested by Anon) -Set B - Preference - Your like Margery Tyrell (Requested by Anon) -Eddard "Ned" Stark - Fic - Reader is Ned's second wife and all the kids cling to her even Jon and Theon (Requested by @roselyhills) -Jorah Mormont - Fluff Alphabet (Requested by Anon)

House of the Dragon;

-Aegon II Targaryen - Fic - Blood and Cheese occurs but Reader manages to save the child and how they cope with it. (Requested by @roselyhills) -Harwin Strong - Fic - Targaryen Princess Reader (Requested by Anon)

Harry Potter;

-Student!Remus Lupin - Fic - Smitten with Reader; Staring at her longily, walking into walls. Sirius finds it funny. Silly and fluffy (Requested by Anon) -George Weasley - First date Headcanons with Hufflepuff!hyper/chaotic midsize (Requested by Anon)

Chicago Fire;

-Matt Casey and Kelly Severide - Fic - New relationship, relationship is private, they tell the whole fire station and they're happy. Reader has an accident, and the Intelligence Unit is involved. Kelly and Matt are horrified are when they find out. At the hospital, Connor and Will treat her, she's inhaled a lot of smoke and has bruises. She also doesn't remember who boyfriend is so Kelly and Matt have to explain to her it's both of them. (Requested by @maximeseveridecasey)

The Walking Dead

-Daryl Dixon - Fic - Not together yet, but Daryl likes Reader, and does all these sweet things for her, Daryl gets all shy when she thanks him and calls him sweet. One day he can't take anymore and kisses her. (Requested by @iheartdilfs1204)

AEW;

-Ricky Starks - Drabble. He has a sinus infection Reader takes care of him (Requested by Anon)

Shadow and Bone;

-King Nikolai Lanstov - Fic - Reader and him are expecting a child (Requested by Anon)

Mayans Mc;

-Miguel Galindo - Fic - Spending family time with their son Cristobal Reading. Fluffy, suggestive (Requested by @pear-1206) -Hank Loza - Continuation of the love letter (Requested by @encounterthepast)

Station 19;

-Jack Gibson - Fic - Reader is a trauma surgeon and she's overworking herself and neglecting her relationship. She's burnt out and it's difficult to watch. Angst/ with a happy ending (Requested by Anon)

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Below is a link to questions about requests!

Questions About Requests

Below is a link to my masterlist!

Masterlist - The masterlist is updated right after I post a new fic so it’s always up to date!

Below is a link to my taglist form!

Taglist - Fill it out so you never miss your faves!

What categories do I write?

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Comfort

Angst

What fandoms do I write for? Who in those fandoms do I write for?

Wrestling - You can ask me and I’ll let you know if I do or don’t.

AEW - Majority.

Impact - Majority.

NJPW - Select ones because I’m not caught up yet.

WWE - Select ones because I don’t really watch anymore, but I catch the highlights from Twitter and Instagram.

Law and Order: SVU - Seasons Watched: All

Nick Amaro, Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Mike Dodds, Peter Stone, Joe Velasco, and Terry Bruno

Sons of Anarchy - Seasons Watched: All

Jax Teller, Juice Ortiz, Opie Winston, Chibs Telford, Tig Trager, Half Sack, David Hale, Herman Kozik, and Ratboy

Mayans MC - Seasons Watched: All

EZ Reyes, Angel Reyes, Coco Cruz, Gilly Lopez, Bishop Losa, Hank Loza, Manny, Marcus Alvarez, Miguel Galindo, Creeper Vargas, Nestor Oceteva, and Riz Ariza.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

He’d always believed that the code of La Cosa Nostra forbade their operations to extend into the realms of drug trafficking. To be specific, he’d assumed it stemmed from reasons of mortality, perhaps a skewed sense of Catholic guilt, when in fact, the commoner explanation was far simpler.  

GAHHHH I HAVE SO MUCH INFO TO SHARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He was in Vegas, after all. Home of the poker face.  

I could make you a PowerPoint, I am a wealth of info.

Downer, of course, was at the epicentre of it. “Hey, I thought there was meant to be whores on the dockside? That’s a thing, ain’t it? We’ve been here four times before now and no damned pussy anywhere.” Angel lit a cigarette, raising his eyebrows. “Man, where the fuck you get that from?” “He’s right,” Hank chimed in, “but about a couple hundred years out of date. Hookers used to frequent the docks back in the eighteen, nineteen hundreds. Gave lots of navy men who’d been at sea for months at a time a rampant case of the syph."

I love this, I'm a sucker for the film noir of it all.

“You’re getting way too smart with that fuckin’ yap of yours, prospect,” he snorted, pointing at Guero. “Been spending too much time with him and his big mouth.”

I would like to sandwich myself between Bottles and Guero, there would always be something to entertain me.

The last thing he expected to see was the body of a dishevelled looking blonde girl with a gash upon her head, lying there out cold, and the marked case notably empty of its usual stack of bills.   “Uh, guys?” he called, appearing back around the container door as his brothers were carrying cargo across from the vans. “We got a situation in here.”  

That's one way to put it.

Lost and Found - A Guero (Mayans MC)/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I cave to the demand and the excitement I have warmly received from you all. Here you go, darlings. First chapter is here. I can’t promise I will be posting the second next week just in case I want to do ANOTHER deep dive into the editing, but since I am just over halfway through writing it now, I thought I would at least post the first. 

Story is somewhat canon, with a few changes here and there to suit my artistic vision… i.e. I kicked canon in the ass and told her to go home, hahaha! Oh, I also gave Guero a surname, too! I tried to keep him as true to who we see on screen, but obviously since we didn’t get him for long, some of his characterisations are of my creation. Don’t like it? Don’t read. Simple as that. 

Nervously and excitedly awaiting your feedback, eeek! :)

Words - 3,834

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters. 

Unknown numbers. Ezekiel Reyes often received more than he wished to endure upon the burner phone he used for club business. Regularly they were legitimate, but occasionally telemarketers, such annoyances he simply hung up on instantly. While walking from his trailer to the clubhouse, he expected the call coming in to be that of nuisance, 11am seemingly the call centre worker bee’s peak time to bother him about his long-distance courier needs, or savings on his energy bills.  

It was no telemarketer, but he almost disconnected the call all the same in sheer disbelief.  

“Ezekiel Reyes?”

Keep reading

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Shotgun Wedding - Part 2

A/N: You asked and I (hopefully) provided! I wrote one more part to close out this mini series and then my attention goes back to Playin with Fire 🖤🖤

Angel Reyes x Reader; Hank ‘Tranq’ Loza x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: angst, language, mention of break-up, Angel being an ass, fluffy feelings, (gif not mine)

       MASTERLIST          PART ONE

“It’s Tranq. You know what to do.”

Her heart from swelled at the familiarity of Hank’s calming voice and just how much she missed him. A voice she hadn’t heard in far too long nevertheless by her own doing. She didn’t blame anyone but herself, well herself and Angel Reyes for throwing her out like yesterday’s trash. Engaged and with a baby on the way. Her mind reeled at how quickly her life turned to shit in twenty-four hours. A somber ache laid underneath her dissolving determination since that fatefully shitty day.  

It’d been six torturous months since Y/N left Santo Padre defeated and brokenhearted. She caught the next bus outta town heading to the lone address she knew by heart. The skies alit with angry streaks of lightening prewarning its destiny. A massive downpour followed howling to hellish life. Y/N chuckled jadedly never feeling more understood. Rain soaked into her jacket from the brisk walk to the brightly painted front door. She’d shacked up with her sister two hours outside of town. It only took one glance for her sister to figure something was horribly wrong but Y/N’s tear riddled eyes told enough of a story, at least for now.

While her body was physically exhausted, her mind fashioned an entirely different story, constantly churning nonstop. With the due date was most likely fast approaching, Y/N wondered if Angel was officially a married man. Did he regret anything? Would he even notice her absence? So many questions and not an answer in sight.  

An obnoxious beep blasted through her ear signaling its recording. She lowered her voice slightly above a whisper.

“Hey…it’s, uh, me. I- I know it’s been a minute but I just wanted to drop in, maybe even hear that annoyingly charming voice of yours. Call me sometime. Miss you.”

Y/N hung up filled with an uncontrollable nerve settling in the pit of her stomach. Would he call? Did he miss her too? Questions swarmed her before her attention shifted towards the slumbering man passed out in her bed. His name was Aidan and a thankfully deep sleeper. Also extremely handsome, hilariously snarky, and made Y/N forget even if it was temporarily.

Alongside the toe-curling orgasms, Aidan knew how to make her cum deliciously. Pure carnal attraction released in absolute privacy between two broken people. Angel’s face blurred each passing day pushing him further and further away. Soon enough, Y/N couldn’t picture him at all. She wasn’t sure whether to feel ecstatic or sickened, confliction taking ahold once again.

A trivial smile pursed her lips not totally offended at the snoring giant currently hogging the covers. Y/N easily slid back into her spot shedding her t-shirt. Aidan’s arm looped around her waist pulling her inwards. His warmth radiated against her own scorched skin. Her hips wiggled trying to get comfortable. An elicit moan escaped his slumber lips. Seconds later, his grip went limp implying he’d dozed back to dreamland. Her own lids grew heavy before darkness overtook her.

   Tranq POV

He briefly glanced down at his phone checking nothing in particular and everything.

Y/N: Missed Call (2)

Y/N: New Voicemail (1)

His pulse jumped at the mere mention of her name. Too often his thoughts drifted between Y/N and killing Angel for forcing her to leave. His feelings for Nails were fleeting at best now realizing he was just a friendly distraction. But this was his brother; careless and deceptive but someone he trusted wholeheartedly. It’d been radio silence for the last month weaving more doubt into his subconscious. His thumb hovered over the screen contemplating deleting instead of listening. Not before a startling knock alerted him someone was at his door, correction pounding on noisy metal.

“¿Yo pendejo, que onda? (What’s up?)”  

Suddenly his bubble popped as Angel appeared in the doorway looking cool as a cucumber. Hank wasn’t an idiot, at least not completely; he knew deep down Angel was hurting but refused to show a hint of weakness. He played by the rules keeping his head held high during the surprise pregnancy excited at becoming a father. Nowadays, the wrinkles around his eyes were more prominent, his shoulders absurdly rigid, and his once lively eyes now extinguished.

“Nada, absolutamente nada. (Nothing, absolutely nothing) You need somethin, Reyes?”

“Nah. Not really.”

Angel uncrossed his arms on the verge of awkwardly walking away. But he paused resetting his posture.

“Actually...”

“Just spit it out already, man.

He cleared his throat fumbling over the sentence stretched on his lips; “You heard from Y/N?”

Instantly Hank’s irritation spread; “That’s none of ya fucking business.”

“Not my—she was my—”

“Was, meaning not anymore. You made sure of that.”

Angel’s anger mounted over Tranq’s defensive nature; “Poor Loza, always the friend, never the boyfriend. I saw the way you looked at her when we were together.”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin bout.”

“Must’ve really sucked knowing she’d never choose you even if she had a choice.”

Hank stood snappily getting up in Angel’s face; “That’s a lotta big talk from a man who couldn’t keep it in his pants. And yeah, I might have feelings for Y/N but that doesn’t mean I can’t put her friendship first. She’s the coolest girl who deserves the fucking universe at her goddamn fingertips and you cheated on her without even batting those pretty lashes of yours. You’re blaming me for something I had nothin to do with. Time to own up to your shit brother and abre los ojos.” (Open your eyes)

Bitter realization dawned on Angel soaking beneath his bronzed skin. Fucking up had been the one forte in his shitty life but Y/N was his more, so much more. Unfortunately, he did what came naturally and destroyed her making sure nothing remained intact. Audible silence lingered between the two men neither willing to break bread first.

“She’s been distant since…ya know. She built this fortress of a wall, working too much, and probably not prioritizing herself but she seems okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Angel, you knocked up your side chick and then gave tu madre’s ring to her. She’s far from fine but the good part is she will be, eventually.”

Angel sighed rubbing his hands over his sullen face. If the dictionary had photos to match definitions, he was positive his picture would be filed under asshole. But he couldn’t keep living in the past no matter how much love he still held for Y/N. His actions were beyond irredeemable creating an unrepairable rift. The handsome Reyes gulped loudly digging his hands deeper into his pockets.

“I didn’t plan any of this shit. But if I could take it all back, I fucking would, T.”

With his words haunting the surrounding air, Hank found it difficult to hide his baffled amusement but nodded anyways.

“Take care of her. She’s …extraordinary. But you knew that already.”

Angel took his leave darting around the nearest corner. Hank reached for his phone hoping Y/N still shared her location. The blinking ping kicked him into gear grabbing his overnight bag and hauling it to his bike. He had a new destination in mind.

~~~~~~

Tags: @twistnet​  @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @imagineredwood @gemini0410 @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @penny4yourthot @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife @woahitslucyylu  @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @blessedboo @amberritonicole  @encounterthepast @redpoodlern @im-a-slut-for-fluff @diaryofkali @cherieann-2001 @writings-of-a-fool @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

[spookiekewchie]

Shooting Shots

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Hank “Tranq” Loza x woc!reader

Summary: The one where Hank has an admirer (i suck at summaries)

Word Count: 782

Warnings: none really, mostly it’s just sweet nonsense.

A/N: Honestly I just felt like Hank deserved some love and someone to show him genuine interest. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You’d think after going through this little routine so many times already that you’d be over the butterflies and the heat that crawled through you when you pulled into the scrapyard to deliver your latest order for scrap metal. An order that you could easily give over the phone, something that Chucky never hesitated to remind you. You conveniently forgot every time, especially if you knew Hank was going to be there on the yard to intercept you once he realized you were there. 

The attraction between the two of you was obvious, for him it had been instant. For you it had been when he didn’t laugh when you explained that the scrap metal you were constantly buying was for the sculptures you created and sold for a profit. Most men found it either hilarious or unbelievable when you told them that you were a scrap artist. Hank on the other hand had been impressed and thought it was the most interesting topic when you’d gone off on a tangent about the process of creating scrap art. That hadn’t been the only thing of course, there was the bonding over the tattoos that covered his arms, and the one that he only ever got a peak at against your thigh and the half sleeve on your arm. 

You’d thought by now he’d ask you out, or make a move but he hadn’t. There had been moments when you thought he might come close, but it never seemed to happen and you were getting concerned. The thought that maybe you had misinterpreted his attention as something more than just friendly and professional interest had begun to creep into your mind, and deciding that you’d rather have answers than doubts you decided that you’d just put it on the line that particular day. 

Dressed in a fitted tank top that showed off the half sleeve that Hank always seemed so interested in, and a pair of shorts that offered a little peak of the intricate black ink against your brown skin before the pattern disappeared under your clothes. Your curls were wrapped up and spilling out of the top of a colorful scarf. It seemed that your outfit choice had his attention, and just like always he managed to convince you to stick around and join him in the clubhouse for a drink once you’d handed over the list of things you were looking for to complete your latest piece. 

Currently you were sitting a little closer than necessary on one of the sofa’s, one leg crossed over the other as your denim shorts inched a little higher to show off more of the ink against your thigh. To his credit, Hank was trying not to stare. He may have been an outlaw but he wasn’t a creep. It was something you appreciated, but sometimes you just wanted the man to grab you and press you against the nearest flat surface. 

“Hank?” The sound of his name on your lips had Hank’s gaze snapping to yours just in time to catch the way you were subtly leaning into him. “I want you to ask me out on a date.” You say it so matter-of-factly that Hank didn’t seem sure if you were being serious or not. You’d flirted and joked around with him before, but he hoped you wouldn’t joke about this. 

“You-you uh, serious? You want that?” 

Was that a blush on the big bad biker’s cheeks? Yes it was, and it had you smiling. 

“For starters, ask me out on a date and if it goes well I’ll let you know all about the other things I’ve been wanting.” You teased, and Hank couldn’t help his soft laughter as he nodded. 

“Y/N, would you like to grab some dinner with me tonight?” 

“Yes, I would. Eight o’clock good with you?” You replied, watching as his smile grew into a grin as he nodded. 

“Eight is good.” Lifting the bottle of beer in his hands to his lips he took a drink, hoping to school his expression just enough that he wasn’t looking so God damn giddy. 

“Good. I’ll see you then.” Moving to stand from the sofa you hesitate for a moment, head tilting to the side briefly before you decided to be a little more impulsive than you had already. Leaning forward you braced a hand against one of the man’s sturdy shoulders you bent down to press a sweet kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be late.”   

Hank watched you leave then, ignoring the stares his brothers were giving him after you little affectionate display. There was no way in hell he was going to be even a minute late. 

[minimel-fics]

Mayans M.C Masterlist

Find my multi-fandom blog here.

Reyes Brothers

Nowhere to Go, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8- Angel had hurt you before so what was causing you a little more pain now to avoid a future of hurt? 

Obispo “Bishop” Losa

I Want You (18+)- You aren’t his to have but he sure wants you, you keep your thoughts about him buried until you go to bed at night.

Broken Bells- Annabelle’s life has been anything but easy. Just when she finds a sense of peace in the desert town she gets slammed back into a life full of conflict and men who ride motorcycles for more than just a little fun.

On Hiatus - May resume/ rework after final season airs?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,  Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 (18+), Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18,

Neron “Creeper” Vargas

Unexpected Blessings, Part 2- An unexpected late night encounter brings out Creepers soft side and flips two unsuspecting worlds upside down.

Familial Persecution- Creeper loves you more than anything and sticks by your side while you deal with the death of your father but your family does not approve.

A True Gem- Everyone thinks you’re eccentric but Creeper embraces your quirks. 

Inked (18+)- There’s a mutual attraction but the admiration for your tattoo’s is what brings you together.

Marshmallow Dreams- What happens when you mix a Cali boy and wintery New York? The risk of frostbite and hot cocoa with too many marshmallows.

Parental Guidance- A daughter’s first date is a father's worst nightmare.

Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes

Coffee Connections- It is an unspoken rule to never be late for the first date. 

Getting Old (18+)- While a back injury causes you to have an existential crisis, Ez has other plans for you.

The Way We Get By, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5- Working at Vicki’s was just a way to put yourself through law school and keep food on your table. (18+)

People Watching- If he is the one to interrupt your peace while hiding away from the party downstairs then you’re okay with that.

 Johnny “Coco” Cruz

Second Chances, Part 2- He had always dismissed his family because of the poison that ran through their veins until Letty showed him that it didn’t have to be that way, now he just wants to make things right.

Asshole- No matter what you do, you’re always the bad guy.

Hank “Tranq” Loza

Moral of the Story, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4- Their marriage took a turn for the worst, but they made a vow that neither of them had the heart to break. 

Loss of a Brother- Lucille had never imagined the day she would lose her baby brother, nor would she imagine Hank being the one there to pick her back up.

Che “Taza” Romero

Summer Break- You couldn’t get through to your son but Taza has dad powers.

[bullet-prooflove]

Okay so I found this cute little dialogue prompt on Pinterest that I think would be adorable with teddy bear Hank — “You talk in your sleep, you know that?”

Hank tells you, as his lips chase up the curve of your throat, his palms caressing your naked skin underneath his sheets.

"What do I say?" You ask him, your lips tipping up into a small smile as his breath ghosts on your ear.

"Hm." He murmurs as he draws you into his arms, his fingertips trailing along your inner thigh. "That you're always late for work."

"I wonder why." You tease as you roll onto your back, your head tilting so you can look into his eyes. He cups your chin in his palm and guides your mouth back up to his.

"Preemptive stress relief." He smiles his lips brushing over yours. You moan into his mouth and it is the sweetest fucking thing.

"We keep this up and you will be late." He tells you.

You give him a mischievious look that makes him chuckle.

"You'd best be quick then."

[the-hinky-panda]

The Preacher's Wife Series: Escape (Part I)

TW: Domestic spousal abuse: emotional, mental, physical, and sexual

Hank’s in love.

Again. 

It’s too soon, the wounds from the previous relationship still fresh, still stinging. But he thinks back to feeling Maggie pressed to his side, her hand in his, her head resting against his shoulder. It was one of the only times that he actually followed the speed limit back to her rental, trying to draw out the time. He can’t get it out of my mind just how perfect everything had been. He certainly doesn’t believe in romantic nonsense like soulmates but the feeling of watching Maggie walk into the cabin by herself was like watching a piece of himself go with her. 

Maybe he is starting to believe in soulmates. 

Either way, the problem remains of her husband and the process of getting her and the two children out of that mansion in La Jolla. He can’t contact Maggie directly so he approaches the next best thing, Maggie’s sister, Stitches. She’s been the medic for a couple years now and hasn’t mentioned anything specific about Maggie and her marriage. She’s hinted at being concerned for Maggie, always excited for Maggie’s visits to Santo Padre. But never has she brought up to the club a fear for her sister’s safety. 

Stitches is organizing her medical supplies in the treatment room in the clubhouse when Hank finally tracks her down. He’s only been back from Big Bear Lake for two hours and he can’t shake the conversation he had just earlier today in the truck with Maggie. He raps lightly on the open door. 

“Stitch, you got a minute?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” She stands up and immediately starts scanning him, looking for any injuries. 

“I’m fine,” he waves her off. “I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about your sister, Maggie.” 

Concern immediately clouds her face. “Maggie? What’s going on with Maggie?” 

“I ran into her, up at Big Bear Lake.” 

Stitches’ concern dissipates immediately and she breaks into a big smile. “Oh yeah, she was heading up there for a conference.” 

Hank smirked. “Conference.” 

“Ah,” Stitches leans against the exam table. “So she told you about her other ‘job.’” 

“She did. My mom likes reading her books.” 

Stitches’ grin gets wider. “I’m sure the next time she’s visiting, we can stop by and see your mom if you want. It’ll do Maggie good, finding people who enjoy her books. She doesn’t get to have that satisfaction too much.” 

Hank smiles at that but then gets to the real reason for his visit. “Has Maggie ever said anything about how her husband treats her?” 

All positivity drains from her face. “I know he’s an asshole. Emotionally manipulative and a bully. I’ve been stashing money and family heirlooms for her in preparation for her to leave but she keeps telling me the timing isn’t right yet. Her publisher is also holding on to her royalties as well. Why?” 

“She just said a few things that concerned me. Wanted to get a clearer picture from you.” 

Stitches’ mouth is a firm, tense line. “What things?” 

The words are so bitter on his tongue when he says them. “I think he’s hitting her.” 

“That son of a bitch.”

She starts to move past him but he puts out a hand and catches her shoulder. The explosion is expected and he is prepared for it thankfully. “Now hold on. You know if that’s true, we do have to wait on her.” 

“Dammit, I know.”  She emits a frustrated noise and kicks the small trash can. “Shit. I had no idea he was hitting her or that it was even a possibility. He’s so focused on goddam appearances I didn’t think he would do that.” 

“It seemed like she let it slip when we were talking. She said it was never anything to go see about at a hospital or ER. I don’t think anyone knows.” 

“Course not. Simon Peters needs to keep his reputation clean or he could lose that money machine of a church. Can’t have a wife sporting bruises and casts…” Stitches pauses in her rant, her eyes going wide. “Oh my God. Her foot.” 

“She mentioned breaking it but didn’t say how.” 

Stitches returns to pacing the small room, her face thunderous. “I knew it. I knew Simon had something to do with her broken foot. The bones on the top of her foot were just snapped. She had to have metal pins and plates in there to fix it. She said her foot got caught under a box and she lost balance and fell backwards. It sounded fishy to me but she assured me that’s all it was.” 

Hank feels that sick feeling settling in his stomach. “What did it look like to you?” 

“It looked like someone stood on her foot and pushed her backwards, that’s what the breaks looked like.” Stitches lets out another sound of anger. “Six years! Six years, she’s been stuck in that house with that asshole! And I didn’t…” her eyes flood with tears and she covers her face with her hands. “I didn’t know, Hank. God, I didn’t know.” 

“What the hell is going on in here?” Bishop appears in the doorway. 

Tears are still streaming down her face and gives both Hank and Bishop the most helpless look. “My sister needs help.” 

Bishop turns to Hank. “What kind of help?” 

Taza appears at Bishop’s shoulder, peering into the room. “What’s going on?” 

“Stitches’ sister needs help,” Bishop says. 

Hank fills in the rest of the information. “Abusive husband.” 

Bishop nods. “He armed? Security guards? What are we talking?” 

“He’s the pastor of a megachurch,” Hank answers. “Lives in a mansion in La Jolla.” 

“The kids,” Stitches says. “We need to get the two kids too.” 

“Alright,” Taza puts his arm around Stitches’ shoulders. “We will. You talk to her, find out when would be a good time to get her and the kids out.” 

“Safely,” Hank adds. 

“Safely,” Bishop repeats. “In the meantime, if we have something coming up that needs attention, I’ll make sure at least three guys stay behind to help. You pick them. Okay?” 

Stitches wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “Okay. But don’t you have to bring this to the table or take a vote in Templo or something?” 

Bishop  glances at Hank and Taza, who give him minute nods, and he shakes his head. “No vote needed this time. Sometimes, we’re just all in agreement.” 

[myckicade]

Title: Enough - A Holiday Ficlet Pairing: Hank/Reader A/N: I had started this one first, believe it or not. It just refused to be finished, for a time. I like to think that Hank, being the quiet one, is always thinking about something. It just might not always be entirely pleasant. >XD.

Truth be told, Hank has no idea what he's doing. While you're far from the first woman he has ever given a gift to, he's a little rusty with the whole relationship thing. And, Christmas... He's a little bit nervous about this, too, being his first major holiday with you, and all. And, to top it all off, he'll be meeting your folks for the first time, come Christmas Eve. Sure, because that isn't going to be a problem. Little lady with a bright future brings home a biker, with double-digit years on her. Sure. What self-respecting father wouldn't be over the moon for that?

Either way, he's in for it. The jewelry box in his hands is proof, enough. He's pretty sure he's in the sweet spot of prices, not too cheap, and not too extravagant for the stage of your relationship. A simple, yet elegant silver necklace, delicate enough for a formal night out, but casual enough that you will be able to slide a charm on it, if you want to. He's excited to give it to you, too. (The necklace. Let's keep it out of the gutter).

Well, not that he won't be happy to offer you that, too.

Just, not until you get home. Your father only needs to want to beat Hank's ass for two reasons, not fifty.

Shaking the idea from his head, Hank sits down at his kitchen table, and pulls a sheet of wrapping paper closer to himself. Everything he needs for this adventure lay before him, with plenty of paper, tape, and ribbon to last him a lifetime of wrapping your presents. He sets the jewelry box in the center of the paper, and begins folding the material over the box. He's careful not to crease the paper, just in case-Oh, that looks like hell, he thinks, undoing the whole thing. He turns the box another way, and folds everything up, again. Bah. It genuinely looks no better, this way. Maybe, a different piece of wrapping paper would help. On the other hand, it might make things worse. Would a bag be considered lazy? Yes, probably, and the last thing he wants is to be considered lazy by the woman he loves.

Turning the box, for one more try, Hank sighs. Yes, yes, the big, bad ass biker is head over heels in love with the chick that runs the yoga studio at the far end of town. He's never done a day of yoga in his life, he considers, placing a piece of tape down over the main fold. He's honestly afraid to even try, at this stage in the game, worrying that he'll put himself in traction. He turns the box, and folds in one side, securing it with another piece of tape. That'll be super attractive for you to have to explain, that your geriatric boyfriend nearly killed himself in your newcomer's class.

Hank shakes his head, folding in the second set of corners. Geriatric. Taza is older than him, and that man keeps up with a partner half his damned age, like it's nothing. Nothing. Hank wonders, as he grabs a bow, whether or not he'll be able to do the same, in x amount of years. Yeah, of course, he will be. Sure, if the Little Blue Pill happens to be needed, he'll feel some embarrassment, but there's no way Taza is doing it without popping a helper.

Okay, that pushes it. Hank nearly gags. He has no vested interest in how his brothers get the job done.

Glancing down at the-Shit, when had that happened? Hank finds himself staring at a perfectly-wrapped gift. Perfectly. The red and silver paper is sparkly, in all of the right places. His corners are all straight, well-creased and tidy. The red bow is perfectly placed. He's done a hell of a job, for not paying any attention, while his mind wandered.

Standing from the table, to go place the gift in his dresser drawer, Hank grins, proud of himself. Oh, he can already see your eyes lighting up with excitement. He may not have broken the bank over this one, and he hadn't had to agonize over his decision, but he knows it's just the right choice.

[michaelirby]

Hi there! Really, really love your work! 💋 Can I request a fluffy (maybe a bit smutty??) Hank fic based on “you’ve got that power over me” by Dermot Kennedy? I always imagine Hank being the sweetest yet bit insecure softy for his woman when I hear that song!

i am going to SCREAM i LOVE dermot kennedy😭😭😭

i am hopping on your request as we speak omg

[garbinge]

Contaminated (2/?)

Bishop Losa x OC Lara Barrera Losa (Father/Daughter Duo) annnndddd eventual Angel Reyes x OC Lara Losa (Romantic Pairing)

TW: Mention of familial loss, death, murder, car accident, blood, domestic abuse, relationship abuse, more t r a u m a.

A/N: A little Uncle Hank and Niece Lara being awkward and shy followed up by some classic girls supporting girls. Next chapter will have some more Dad Bish, he’s just currently cleaning up our girl’s mess right now. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter Index

Word Count: 2.3k words

Contaminated Taglist: @est1887 (Let me know if you want to be added!)

It was practically 2AM at this point as Hank and Lara sat awkwardly quiet in the van as they drove down the empty interstate. The MC van wasn’t new to her, she knew the vehicle and the man driving it well, but knowing how she left mixed with the situation that led her here made everything even more tense than imagined.

The silence was eating Hank alive so he decided to speak up. 

“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn down the air?” He asked as he went to fidget with the dials. Trying to just make the girl he looked at as a niece comfortable. 

“No, I’m ok.” She responded, hands sitting in her lap as she mindlessly played with her jewelry on her hands. 

Hank nodded and put both hands back on the wheel. A couple cars zoomed past them on the highway, but besides the occasional speeder, they were the only ones on the road. A sign that read “Oakland 5 miles” passed overhead and Lara wondered how much longer they would be driving. 

“Are you hungry or anything?” Hank spoke up after a few minutes again. He scrunched his face up after asking once he noticed Lara jump at the unexpected noise, now double guessing if that was an okay thing to ask. 

“What do you got?” Lara looked over at him curiously for the first time. She needed something to keep her mind occupied and sitting in silence was not helping.  

Hank leaned over and rummaged through the side compartment of the van. He took out a couple pieces of paper, folded up scrapyard forms, and gas receipts until he pulled out an unopened chocolate bar and a bag of peanuts. 

“The prospect always keeps junk hangin’ around.” The side smirk grew on his face as he handed them to her and shrugged.

“One man’s trash.” She said with a courteous look and opened the Hershey bar as Hank went and turned on the radio to ease the silent tension as they continued to drive.

The ride was only 10 more minutes but it felt like an eternity. If Lara was being honest, although not talking was torture for her brain, the thought of having to explain anything to Hank seemed more torturous. He was an amazing uncle– kind, thoughtful, but hard to talk to about the deep stuff, as his niece that is. She was sure when Bishop approached him on club business he had a whole different persona, I mean how else do you get to be the Sergeant at Arms of an MC?

Hank put the car in park which made Lara snap out of her thoughts and stare up at the tiny house they pulled up to. She took in the area as she climbed out of the van and made her way to the front door. Before either of them could knock the door was being opened and Francesca Loza stood there waving them in.

Lara looked around the house as Frankie and Hank whispered by the door, clearly talking about her. 

“Just look after her, you know?” Hank offered up to his daughter. 

Frankie nodded and looked at the girl who was clearly uncomfortable and decided she’d take her father’s advice. Which is why she then kicked him out. 

“Alright, go.” Frankie shooed her father out the door and he raised his hands up innocently as he walked out the door just as quickly as he entered. 

“You want some water?” Frankie asked as she walked past the girl to fill up a glass despite Lara’s lack of response. 

Lara awkwardly followed and grabbed the glass that Frankie put on the counter. 

“Alright, so we’re gonna do the quiet thing, that’s cool.” Frankie said when she realized Lara wasn’t going to speak. 

She escaped into the back hallway and Lara thought she was just going to stay back there which would leave her alone with her thoughts. But almost within seconds the girl was back in the kitchen with a bunch of folded clothes in her hand. Lara froze when she saw the clothes and then looked down at her own to see the blood all over her current outfit. A look of worry filled Lara’s face which Frankie clearly could read off of her immediately. 

“It’s not a big deal.” Frankie spoke so nonchalant you’d think they were talking about spilt milk. “You know who our dads are?” She shrugged and left the clothes on the counter as she opened the fridge looking for something to quickly put together. 

She took out some produce along with a container of meat and placed them on the counter before turning around to the island in her kitchen where Lara stood on the opposite side. 

“Do you eat meat? I have soy chorizo too, we don’t discriminate in this house.” She turned back around and grabbed the ingredients she stacked up and brought them onto the island. She paused for a minute and looked directly at Lara before speaking again.  “We just don’t tell Hank he’s eating a vegan based meal.” She smiled spreading everything out for Lara to get a look at. 

“I’m a carnivore.” Lara said her first words since entering the house and then immediately flinched at the thought of her statement. 

Frankie understood her thought process immediately, that was something great about her, she could read the room swimmingly, and all of her psychology classes made that skill even more useful. Turning around she rapidly put the beef away and replaced it with the soy chorizo. 

“Cool. Well this is a new brand so you can tell me if it passes for the real stuff cause then I can add it into Hank’s secret menu.” She smiled trying to move the conversation along as to not upset the girl and keep her calm. 

Lara laughed and nodded, grabbing the clothes but not sure where exactly to go.  

“Bathroom is down the hall to the right, my shower is broken right now otherwise I’d let you hop in, but the sink works and there’s some washcloths in the linen closet.” She pointed with the wooden spoon in her hand. 

Lara entered the bathroom and stared at herself for a couple moments. She wanted to cry but there was nothing left in her. No emotion, no tears, nothing. If anything this entire night felt like a fever dream. 

Grabbing one of the washcloths, she began to let the water run and wipe herself down from the blood and dirt currently stuck on her being. As the towel moved down her bruised arm, her mind flashed to Jesse grabbing her and slamming her against the wall. The shriek she let out when he had her pinned against the wall filled her mind like a song would when it would get stuck in your head. Her eyes shut tight and body leaned on the counter as her head dropped. Memories kept flooding her mind as she cleaned off the blood and it drained out into the sink. 

“You think you can just show up because you have nowhere to go? We broke up a month ago, Lara.” Jesse said, storming through the house. 

“I literally have nowhere else to go. I got kicked out of my old place. I have like no money because you took all of my savings and spent it on bullshit!” She said with an attitude as she chased behind him in the house.

 Lara thought this was what rock bottom looked like. Begging her shitty ex for a place to live. But looking back this moment might have been the least cringey of the day. 

“What a low life like you? No friends? Nowhere to go? Shocking.” He scoffed and pushed past her shoulder aggressively. 

Standing in the kitchen looking around, she realized there was no reason to be begging for anything from this man. He didn’t help her when they were together, he obviously wasn’t going to help her now. At this point she figured she’d try her luck at a shelter or try and get some money for a motel, you know, take things day by day. 

“Whatever I’m out of here” The attitude still dripping from her tone, rightfully so. Adding a nice eye roll and head shake as she walked by him, giving him the same shoulder check he just delivered to her. 

“You and that fucking attitude.” And with that statement his hand gripped the girl's arm practically cutting off her circulation and slammed her against the wall which caused her to shriek. 

The constraint he held on her was so tight that she could feel her skin bruising as the seconds passed. She felt her heart racing similar to when you’d get your blood pressure taken although if things kept up like this her vital signs would be non-existent. When she shrieked his hands moved to her mouth and then down to her neck restraining her from screaming anymore but also crushing any way for air to make it down to her lungs.

“I always told you that mouth was going to get you into trouble.”

She scrambled her hands around and came across something on the counter. The hesitation that consumed her was probably the last bit of innocence she had left in her. Lara knew what was in her hand was a butcher's knife and the damage it would do could be irreparable, but as she realized there wasn’t a single breath of air coming through her, she just went for it. Stabbing the knife into the man’s body and almost immediately he fell to the ground letting her go to slide down the wall. 

“You stupid bitch.” He spat as he lay on the ground. His next move was where he made the mistake that took his life. Taking the knife out, he bled out within seconds. Not able to say anything, just fight for air like Lara was moments ago. 

Lara sobbed. Not for the loss of his life but for the fact that she had caused someone's loss of life. 

Lara exited the bathroom with her change of clothes on. As she entered the kitchen she saw the plate of food on the island waiting for her and Frankie scrolling on her iPad as she sat on the counter. 

“Thanks.” Lara said as she dug into the food, not holding back, there was only so long a candy bar and bag of peanuts could hold someone over. 

Frankie smiled and let the girl eat in peace while she also ate a plate of food. Eventually the two began small talk, which turned into friendly talk about their past. They weren’t complete strangers, the two had known each other when they were younger teenagers. They were friends in fact, but once things started to go down hill with her family, Frankie was one of the people that Lara pushed away with ease. 

“So why are you in Oakland?” Lara asked as she leaned back in the bar height chair with her now empty plate in front of her. 

“Finishing up my last semesters of school before I come back down. I’m surprised my dad didn’t mention it on the way over. He’s counting down the days until I’m home.”  

“If it means anything, he didn’t really mention much on the ride. He hasn’t changed at all.” Lara smiled. 

“They never do.” Frankie said with deeper meaning behind her words but keeping the conversation going so the statement went by in passing.

“Must be nice to have him want you around. Bishop practically pushed me out the door when Aiden died.” 

The mention of Lara’s dead brother was said with no emotion and such ease, which was something that didn’t go unnoticed to Frankie. 

“Although they live a very similar life, there are differences, being the president of a MC versus a member, even an office patch.” Frankie explained. “I’m sure he did what he thought was right, but that probably didn’t feel good for you.” She validated the girl. 

“Just very accustomed to losing people, you know.” 

“This life, being the daughter of– whatever the fuck you want to call it, the MC, of an outlaw, it’s very… unique.” Frankie explained. 

“Unique is what you describe something from a thrift store, this life, is fucking traumatizing.” Lara bluntly said. 

“I’m used to being the only blunt person around.” Frankie laughed. 

“I guess you met your match.” Lara raised her eyebrows. 

“Match made in hell.” Frankie retorted and both girls laughed. 

The two of them did dishes and wiped the counters down as they talked and just bullshit the rest of the night away until both of them decided to retreat to the living room. Both of them sat on the couch and watched some late night cartoon that was on TV but neither of them were truly watching it, they were both in their own thoughts. Lara digesting the events that happened earlier while Frankie digested the best way to handle everything moving forward. 

“I’m sure they deserved it, you know.” Frankie said to break the silence, not expecting a reply.  “Not sure what happened but in most cases, it’s usually you or them. And you gotta put yourself first cause otherwise, no one else will.” Frankie added on. “You don’t have to talk about it, yet. But if you want to, I’m here.” Frankie paused before taking her eyes off the girl and back to the TV. 

Lara didn’t give an answer, a trait she carried over from her father, but simply draped the blanket she had on over Frankie’s legs to show her she was thankful and appreciative of her and the two sat in silence for the rest of the night letting their thoughts ruminate and their friendship blossom.

[bucksangel]

Hello 👋 can I please request a y/n and hank loza have an heated argument and he leaves to cool of before y/n can tell him she is pregnant but when he comes back they make up and he is so happy very fluffy and maybe if you feel like you can add some smut....thank you☺

Have a great day 😊

I totally can! I’m taking requests over on @michaelirby so i’ll post it there ❤️