Bangtan MC ≽ III.
Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club
Word Count- 8.2k
Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal, mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.
For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.
The remainder of my night was spent in a dirty, cheap motel across town. I couldn’t really afford anything better. I even dared to return to my father’s home to pick up some of my old clothes. There wasn’t much leftover either.
I was both, mentally and materially exhausted. Despite this, sleep hadn't seemed like a reasonable option for me. Instead, I laid on the stiff mattress and dreaded the morning light.
Morning came all the same, through the broken blinds of the room.
The moments between having my eyes closed, and opening them, were lost time. I had no sense of how long I had been laying there. Hours must have gone by.
That was until my phone rang at 10 am exactly. My limbs felt heavy at the first movement toward the phone. It was the phone call that I was waiting for. The one that would determine my next move.
"Agent (Y/L/N), did you rest well?"
I placed my cell on speakerphone and tossed it on the crummy bed.
"As good as could be expected," I answered, swinging my legs over the bed edge.
"I'm sorry to hear that," He didn't have to be so polite, I thought. I tested the strength of my legs and stood on them. "Do you need me to fill you in on the Camilo Cartel?"
"I'm familiar, I helped the administration track their movements into California," I explained my prior knowledge while walking toward the bag I packed. I scavenged through the outdated clothing I wore in my youth. "I had no idea his men moved so far North already."
"Miguel Camilo is an ambitious man." I settled on an old t-shirt. "He's been flooding his heroin and cocaine into almost all of the California prisons."
"Except for Pelican Bay which is still controlled by the PB." The Pure Brotherhood was the largest gang of Neo-Nazis on the West coast. They controlled the drug trade until the Camilo Cartel began to expand out of Northern Mexico. "Three of them came to shoot up my father's house. They killed a boy and injured four other people."
"That was just a warning. They aren't happy that Bangtan is dealing guns to both them and the cartel."
My father started running guns for his Russian connections early on in the club's life. It was just supposed to be a short favor but the money spoke too loudly. At the time, the PB was heavily trafficking drugs through Blackburn from Pelican Bay. However, they made an agreement, that why would stop dealing in Blackburn, in exchange for Bangtan selling them guns.
"I'm sure you are aware, that since the settlement in 2018, Pelican Bay has become the service network for the drug distribution from California to its surrounding states."
That was a sick understatement.
"The Pacific Northwest is drowning in methamphetamine because of the PB's connection at Pelican Bay," I responded, rather sorely. It was a combination of anger, knowing that the club had gotten themselves directly involved. Also, a rage drove from personal experience.
I tossed the clothes I had collected on the bed, alongside my phone. Agent Romero was silent for a time, following the tone of my tongue.
"I was informed you took part in the one-year investigation that saw the raid of 10 drug dens in Seattle last year." His voice became finer. It was almost as if he was being cautious with his information. "You made the connection between the dealers and the PB."
I took a seat on the foot of the bed and remained soundless. I didn't want to take the credit for that.
"Everyone already suspected it led back to them..." I refused to.
"But you knew that the firearms that were confiscated, during the raid, had come from Bangtan."
I didn't expect him to understand why I wasn't proud of this. How could I be? When I had to see the consequences of the club's activities outside of Blackburn. The DEA confiscated 37 pounds of meth and 27 pounds of heroin that day. We really did only care for our own. The rest of the world could burn.
"Agent (Y/L/N)?" He called.
I hummed as a reply.
"You are our best hope. I need to know that you can go through with this," He said sternly. But I understood, there could be no room for hesitation in an operation like this. "Not only because of your personal involvement with the club but because of your history of drug addiction."
My life had taken many unexpected turns after I moved to Seattle. I fought against everything I knew and had an extreme appetite for destruction. If you had the money, then Seattle had your disease. Slipping into darkness had never been so easy.
"I've been clean for five years, agent," I reminded him.
I had a regularly scheduled drug test every 90 days through a hair sample. It was a rare exception to the DEA, but my personal experience was beneficial to them. "I also haven't been in contact with the club in over seven years."
I stood back on my feet, taking a hold of the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head.
"I understand. For now, I need you to stay close to the club." I took the phone in one hand and my clothes in the other. "I'll be flying in from Virginia tomorrow, we will discuss further details, in person."
"Yes, sir."
He hung up the phone after that. I was left to unwind, once again.
This time I stepped toward the bathroom, leaving the stuff in my hands on the countersink. The bathroom was, at the very least, clean compared to the rest of the room.
I turned on the water to the shower and gave it time to heat up. I continued to undress myself, anticipating the sweet relief of the hot water. With the remainder of my clothing scattered on the floor, I heard my phone vibrate behind me.
I imagined that it was agent Romero. However, when I looked at the screen I found the message coming from an unsaved number. The same unsaved number that Namjoon called me from two days ago.
I didn't expect to be starting work this soon.
-
The second I turned off the engine on my bike, Namjoon was already waiting for me at the doorway of his home. I didn't see any other bikes in the driveway, except for Jaeeun's car.
I was honestly hoping that she wouldn't be home.
"You're late." Was the first thing out of his mouth.
"I came from across town- there was traffic," I explained, even though it couldn't have been more than ten minutes past three.
He moved aside and let me step first into his house. The front door opened to his living room. There I was met with an unfortunate appearance by Jaeeun. There was only an everlasting smirk or frown on this woman's face. When it came to me, a frown was her default.
"You said this was important?" I turned around to see Namjoon closing the door.
"Yeah," Namjoon quietly remained, his fingers brushed their way through his hair. There was a stillness in the room that no one seemed to want to face.
All I could do was stand there and watch as he calmly stepped further into the room. Before I could ask him to elaborate, there was another set of footsteps that came in from the hallway.
"Ms.(Y/n),"
I came face to face with my father's attorney. He received me with a friendly smile, extending his hand out to me in the process.
"Richard," I was startled by his visit.
"I'm sorry to meet again under these circumstances." His presence was eerily similar to when my mother passed away. Then his appearance began to make sense.
"My father's will?"
Richard gently nodded his head, the look of sympathy easily displayed on his features. He slowly gestured both Namjoon and me to join Jaeeun on the couch.
Namjoon offered himself the seat between his mother and I. While Richard took the single armchair facing our direction. A round coffee table stood between us. Richard drew a leather briefcase from the floor and placed it on the glass surface.
There was a feeling of dread emitting from my chest, making it feel heavy and stiff. My palms ran over the fabric of my jeans at the sound of the briefcase latches opened.
He slipped out a single piece of paper, the delicate material folded like a letter. Richard cleared his throat,
"The purpose of our meeting here today is the reading of the final testament of the deceased. Including, the distributions of assets and beneficiary claims." He took a moment to look at each of us. "With all of your permission, I will begin,"
We all gave our approval for him to begin.
I didn't know what to expect.
I, resident of the state of California, county of Blackburn, and being sound of mind and memory; do hereby make, publish, and declare this to be my last will and testament.
At the time of executing this will, I have widowed and have remarried to Jaeeun Kim. Also at the time of this will, I recognize only two legitimate children.
(Y/F/N). My biological daughter from my first marriage, now deceased.
Namjoon Kim. My legal son from my current marriage to Jaeeun Kim.
For my wife, I leave you with the remaining balance of our joint bank account, as well, as our matrimonial home. All titles and deeds will be changed under your name as the sole owner of the property.
For my son, after being a long time employee and business partner, I leave you as the owner of The House Of Cards.
Finally, for my daughter, I leave you with the remaining balance of my separate savings account, as well, as my 2003 Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport and my 1990 Harley-Davidson Fatboy.
When I turned 18, there was nothing more that I wanted than that old Fatboy. I never thought that finally getting it would feel so meaningless.
-
I didn't plan to be out for long after being at Namjoon's house. We didn't say much to each other after Richard had left, I even left the house without any insults from Jaeeun. However, before leaving, Namjoon asked me to meet him at the bar to take a look at my father's bikes.
When I arrived in the parking lot of the bar, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were in mid-conversation around their bikes. I parked my Harley right beside Jimin's.
"Hey," I called out to them. My fingers clicked off the straps of my helmet and let it hang around the handlebar.
When I stepped off my bike, I was instantly greeted by Jimin, who unexpectedly pulled me into a hug. I was somewhat taken back, his arm was hooked tightly around my waist. Of course, I returned the embrace, but at the same time, made awkward eye contact with Taehyung.
"What's going on?" I asked a bit flustered as Jimin began to pull away.
"Namjoon called us in," Jungkook replied. There was a smirk in his words as if he knew something that I didn't. I glanced at Taehyung, who remained silent by his side. I never did understand Jungkook's sense of humor. I brushed it off nevertheless.
"He told us to bring your old man's Harley," Jimin also stated. He stepped with me, as I came closer into the semicircle that they were gathered in. I turned my head and looked at him rather confused.
"Bring it from where? The shop?" I questioned.
I watched Jimin lean against his bike. "I thought it would be at the pound,"
He pushed strands of his hair away from his forehead, taking a moment to look away from me and waited to speak. I could see the gears begin to turn in his head and he glanced at the other boys for guidance.
No one said anything.
"His Dyna got roughed up a few weeks ago- he left it in the shop for Taehyung and me to fix," He carefully explained. "He was riding his Fatboy the day of the accident."
My life seemed to be a never-ending joke of irony. The sudden feeling of gloom overcame me prompting me to switch my gaze to the pavement. The bike that I had wanted was the bike that he had left me, but it was also the bike he had died in. I didn't say much after that.
We stood in silence together for a few more minutes. That was until Taehyung's phone rang and notified us that Namjoon was waiting for us in the garage.
When we got there, the garage was opened, to a truck parked in reverse. The white truck was branded with the name of Jimin's old man’s auto shop. The sound of the passenger door slamming was followed by Yoenjun coming around the corner. The young prospect moved quickly to unlatch the backdoors of the trailer.
I advanced toward the truck, somewhat, anticipating to get a look at my father's Dyna.
Jungkook came up to lend Yoenjun a hand with the ramp. The loud piece of metal came crashing down on the asphalt. If this had been anyone else's bike, Yoenjun would have just ridden it from the shop. But they were being extra cautious out of respect.
Yoenjun came out of the dingy trailer with his hands guiding the bike down the ramp. The black beauty reflected shapes of the fluorescent lights. I stared at the beautiful wide front of the Dyna that reminded me why I got my Softail.
"What do you think?" Yeonjun asked while he pushed down the kickstand, allowing the bike to stand on its own.
"It looks brand new," I said, running my hand over the cold black metal of the fuel tank. "What was wrong with it?"
I asked, peering over to Jimin and Taehyung.
"The headlight was broken," Jimin revealed. "There were also some scratches and dents."
I nodded my head. I couldn't see any evidence of scratches, much less dents, that were difficult to get rid of without the right tools.
"Prospect," Namjoon called from behind me. Yoenjun's eyes shot up in question. "Did you get the Fatboy out of the pound?"
"Yes, pres," He said, quickly moving his feet back up the ramp.
My eyes wandered into the darkness of the back of the trailer. I couldn’t see anything but I heard the hunk of metal rattling against the wall. I could see why Namjoon called Jungkook here, he ran up to help the prospect with the weight of the bike.
I wasn't prepared for what I was about to witness.
My heart dropped into my stomach at the sight. The front of the bike was completely smashed inward. Jungkook was supporting it from the front, while Yoenjun steered it from the back. The entire fork and front wheel were crushed to the left. So far deep, that it even rammed into the gas tank.
"Oh god..." My hands tried to mask the cry that fell from my mouth. The tears fell faster from my eyes than I could acknowledge them.
"Hey," Jimin came to my aid. He rested his hand on my back and tried to comfort me.
"I'm honestly not sure how salvageable it is, (Y/n)." Namjoon also walked toward me. I felt him linger over my shoulder, all I could do was merely glance his way as I tried to control my composure. "Maybe Jimin and Taehyung could try to-"
"No," I managed to take in a shaky breath, running my fingers along the wet stains of my cheeks. "I can fix it."
I said mostly to myself. I had this irrepressible urge in the back of my mind to repair the bike myself. My father had taught me everything I needed to know about motorcycles. This was my chance to prove myself.
"I might need some help though."
I was well aware that this would at least be a two-person job, the poor thing couldn't even stand on its own. There were also tools that I didn't have at my current disposal.
"Whatever you need, love," Jimin whispered, his hand slowly slipping off my back.
I suddenly realized how close Namjoon and Jimin were standing to me. I was feeling a little enclosed between the two of them. So I took a moment to excuse myself from the group.
My back rested into the warm redbrick of the building. A deep breath of late summer air filled my lungs. I could almost view the sun starting to head toward the horizon. Its surrounding sky was beginning to orange with heat.
I was standing just outside of the garage. Everyone had gone back into the bar to get a drink. Except, for Yoenjun who the boys had sent back to the auto shop.
It seemed every day that I spent here was just another miserable recognition of my castaway. I hated feeling this way. I hated feeling like all I could do was complain about my father's abandonment. But goddamn it, he was all that I had.
I thought I was all he had too.
I imagined maybe one day he would tell me that he regretted sending me away. But, even in his will, he left me with nothing to stay here for; not his bar, not my mother's house, just some money, and a motorcycle to run away on.
"You alright?"
Jimin always seemed to catch me in the middle of a crying session.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, pushing myself off the wall. I forced him a smile and decided to prompt another subject. "I hope you're as good as a mechanic as you say you are."
He returned my smile, a more genuine one, and followed me with his eyes as I moved back into the garage.
"Me?" He challenged, as we both stepped back toward the damaged bike, circling it. "I've been working in a shop for five years, what have you been doing?"
I shot him a glare and chuckled at his tease.
"Who do you think has been taking care of my bike all this time? The mechanics in Seattle are a joke." He laughed at my words, not doubting them for a moment.
I watched him watch me. His round lips held in an endearing smile as his eyes stared into me. I felt, at that moment, the same as he did. It was nice to spend moments like this, after all this time.
"Besides," I said, feeling bashful in his gaze. "I've worked on this bike a million times."
We had the Fatboy mounted on a hydraulic stand to get a better look below. Some of the pipes underneath were also severely damaged. But as long as the frame was still intact, I was pretty sure we could pull it off.
"We should start by removing the fork and wheel," Jimin said, his eyes wandering over the details of the bike. "I think that way we'll have more room to make sure that the frame isn't too damaged."
I agreed.
This model of Fatboy had a completely different frame than its modern counterpart. Trying to buy a new frame would easily cost over a grand.
"You know," Jimin sounded unsure. "this might cost more to fix than it's worth, (Y/n)."
I was well aware that it was reasonably true. However, my mind was already made up.
"I don't care what it costs."
Because I had nothing else. Repairing this bike was going to be my only sense of peace for the next couple of weeks.
-
Jimin stayed and helped me get started. Removing the front of this bike turned out to take a lot longer than expected. Jimin was a great help, and I had to admit, he probably knew a little more than I did. We ran into a lot of difficulties due to the metal that was bent together. We had to remove it without causing more damage to the parts that it was pushed into. Jimin was pleasant company, nonetheless.
"I can't believe you dated her," I laughed under my breath, trying to keep my hands steady.
"Okay, 'date' is a strong word," He attempted to justify himself but it was too late in my head. "I was intoxicated 80% of the time I was with her."
The Allen head screwdriver I was using to loosen the lower triple fasteners almost slipped from my hands. Jimin's hand gripped around the bottom of the right fork, ready for it to come undone.
"That doesn't matter!" I was laughing so hard that my eyes watered. "The damage is done, Jimin. Who knows what kind of crotch-eating virus she gave you."
"Hey, I'll have you know that she got regular check-ups."
I hummed and rolled my eyes. I proceeded to also loosen the fastener on the top of the fork. I looked down at Jimin, to make sure his grip was still tight before freeing the fork. It should have slid right out the moment the screw came out but it didn't.
"Damn," He said, carefully, removing his hand.
"It must be jammed." I groaned, stepping back and wiping my forehead of any sweat. Jimin straightened himself out too.
"We can just find a way to remove it tomorrow," I sighed. I was honestly already worn out, and ready to call it quits for the night. However, determined, Jimin took a closer look at the fork.
I watched as he, without a word, kneeled to dig around the toolbox. He was attentive as he picked out a flat-bladed screwdriver and came back to the bike. Jimin pushed the screwdriver in between the gap of the lower triple.
"Try to pull on it." He muttered, to me as he was using all of his strength to loosen the bent metal.
I wrapped my hand around the metal rod and tried to tug on it. It made a rasping sound as it was starting to move. Then the entire weight came undone, it almost slipped out of my hand, but Jimin was fast too, also holding on to it.
"Wow~ Jimin~" I was pleasantly surprised.
"I know what I'm doing, love," Jimin smirked, proud of himself, he took the heavy rod from my hand.
A relieved sigh left his nose as he placed the fork next to the previous one we removed. Along with other parts of the bike, like the wheel, that was close to unrecognizable.
I reached into my pocket and checked the time.
The effects of not sleeping the night before were starting to come through. It was barely 8 o'clock and I was exhausted.
"I hope you're hungry because I just ordered some food," Jimin called to me. I looked up from my phone to see him showing me his food delivery app.
"Oh, Jimin," I grumbled, putting my phone back in my pocket. "I was just about to head out."
He raised his brow at me in questionable doubt.
"You already ate?" He maintained his eyes on me while cleaning his greasy hand on the hem of his white t-shirt.
"No," My eyes accidentally caught a glimpse of his abdomen, which was shockingly healthy underneath. "But I'm not very hungry."
Worried that I was staring, I switched my attention to another part of the room. Jimin appeared to move close as a result.
"Come on, it's Chinese food from that place you like." He insisted.
I would have continued to refuse him, although my stomach appeared to respond to the contrary. It rumbled at the memory of the Chinese food, causing Jimin to laugh at the sound.
"I guess I can eat," I admitted in defeat.
Jimin nodded his head and pushed the sleeves of his t-shirt over his shoulder. It appeared that he was making advances toward the door but I called him. "Do you mind if we eat here though? I don't really want to be around other people."
I wasn't sure if Namjoon had left with the others, or if he was just on the other side of the door. I was just enjoying Jimin's company without worrying about anything else.
"Sure, I don't mind." I was comforted to hear him say so.
Underneath a table, I found a couple of crate boxes. I carefully kicked two of them into the middle of the room. My aching legs relieved to finally sit down after three long hours. Jimin had his back turned to me as he washed his hands in the sink along the wall.
"Are you staying at Namjoon's house?" He suddenly asked, trying to make more conversation.
"No, thank god." A short chuckle came from my lips. Taking notice of the dirt on my hands, I ran my palms over the fabric of my jeans. "I don't need Jaeeun’s cold glare watching me every minute."
I could hear Jimin smirk.
"Yeah, she's intimidating as all hell." He stated. Turning back to face my direction, he shook the water off his hands, droplets falling to the cement floor. "You guys still aren't getting along?"
"You know we've never had," I said a little bitterly. Recalling back to all the time I spent in high school complaining about her to him.
"I know, but I thought that was just like a teenage thing." Jimin eyed the counter to his right, where he had previously left his cut to remain.
"Definitely not after the conversation we had yesterday." I jeered.
"She threatened you?" Jimin sounded surprised as he was slipping the leather around his shoulders.
"Let's just say, it was a passionate discussion," I hummed, deciding it wasn’t even worth mentioning and that it was time for me to wash my hands as well.
The plastic sink in the back used to be white, now it was grayed and falling apart. I tried my best not to touch it as I turned on the faucet and rubbed some dish soap in my hand.
"Is that why you left last night?"
My hands slowed down at his question. I didn't like the idea of having to lie to Jimin. He was the only person who made me feel like I could depend on him. That meant a great deal to me however, I didn't really have any other alternative.
"I didn't feel very welcomed once you left," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. I continued scrubbing underneath my fingernails. "I also didn't feel like celebrating Namjoon's coronation."
It was a joke but I knew Jimin could hear the slight sourness in my tone. I tried to shake off as much of the water from my hands before turning back to Jimin. "Did Hoseok give you a rough night with his new VP patch?"
I joked while reaching for a roll of paper towels under the sink.
"No," He said calmly, "But Taehyung sure did."
I wasn't quite sure if I had heard him correctly. Looking at his facial expression was meaningless as he remained unbothered.
"Taehyung?" I asked for clarification.
"That's right," He sang as I walked back in his direction, taking the same seat as before. "Namjoon wanted someone different than him, Taehyung is as different as you can get."
I had never thought to compare the two. I doubt if I even knew enough about Taehyung to relate him to Namjoon.
"Does it bother you?" I was curious.
"Taehyung being VP? Nah." Jimin answered. "I'm actually pretty relieved,"
Jimin stopped to lick his lip, thinking about what he was about to say. "There is no doubt in my mind that Namjoon will be a good leader. He's smart as hell, but sometimes- I think he can lose sight of things."
I was deeply intrigued by what Jimin thought. His opinion was unbiased, and he only spoke for what was best for the club. "Taehyung has never been afraid to call him out on it. Taehyung and your old man, that is."
The Vice President of a club was the middle ground between the President and the members of the charter. Any questions, comments or concerns from the other members are brought to the VP's attention. It was hard for me to imagine my father ever disagreeing with Namjoon. He never did so in my presence, anyway. I wondered when that all began to change. I wondered if it had anything to do with the drugs.
Jimin noticed that mentioning my father brought me down easily, he saw me lost in my own head, so he changed the subject.
"You know," Jimin pushed himself off the box seat. "I know why Jaeeun doesn't like you."
"Oh?" I smiled gently. This ought to be good. "Enlighten me, please."
Even though I could name a few reasons myself, Jimin always had an interesting perspective.
He returned my smile and decided to let the anticipation linger in the air. I watched him slowly walk toward the refrigerator that sat in the corner of the room. He pulled the door opened and leaned in to retrieve two bottles of beer that rested at the very bottom shelf. He turned around to face me and shut the door with his foot.
"You two are exactly the same,"
I looked at him unimpressed, with such a simple answer. Also, a little offended by his assumption.
"Hear me out," He requested while holding the bottles between his fingers, using his free hand to dig into his pocket. "Jaeeun is intimidated by your character. She's constantly trying to put you down because she knows you don't let things go- just like she doesn't. "
"Who says I don't let things go?" Jimin laughed at my question.
"(Y/n), just yesterday you said you've waited seven years to come back home."
Ouch.
Jimin pulled a lighter from his jeans. He used the end of it as leverage to snap open one of the bottles. "You only threaten someone that you feel threatened by."
Jimin offered me the beer, and I took it thankfully. His words sunk in.
"Well, you know what they say," I pushed my lips against the glass, taking a large gulp.
"What?" He asked while sitting back beside me.
"A beaten dog never forgets," I said earnestly.
Jimin stared at me for what seemed like an entire minute, but ultimately, he tipped his bottle toward me.
"That, we don't."
He said as I met him halfway. Our bottles clanged together before we took another drink.
"There is actually something I've been wanting to ask you," He suddenly said after clearing his throat.
"What is it?"
"Yesterday... You make it sound as if you've wanted to come back this entire time," I was dreading this question. "Why didn't you?"
How could I even begin to explain to him such a story? "I know you had problems with your family and maybe that's why you left, "
He sounded hurt. "But I thought we were close enough for you to have told me. It just seemed so unlike you."
He knew me better than I gave him credit for.
"I would have told you." I wanted to make that clear to him first. "I didn't want to leave but my father sent me away."
"How come?"
I stared into his eyes and knew that he did not recognize the man I spoke of. But this was the reality.
"Because," I sighed and felt unworthy of holding his gaze. "I couldn't let things go..."
-
My entrance to the bar was met by a pleasant absence of people. It was well past 10 o'clock and yet the room was entirely empty. Not only that, but the entire place looked as if a tornado had spit it out. The chairs and tables were knocked down and spread all over the floor. The back doors of the club's conference room were broken in and barely hanging on. Though I couldn't even see down the hall, I could imagine it was a similar story.
The only soul that remained stood tall behind the bar, wiping down the counters against the wall.
"What the hell happened here?" Namjoon hadn't heard me come in. He looked over his shoulder and found me walking toward him.
"Pigs had a day off," He said, setting down the damp rag and turning his body to speak with me.
He sounded unimpressed, and so was I. Blackburn police were always trying to find dirt on the club. It wasn't the first time they had come in with their warrants; it wouldn't be the last time either. However, the only thing that they left with was their tails tucked between their legs. It's just the way things were.
"Where is he?" I asked, knowing he knew who I meant.
I took the leather stool right in front of him. Resting an elbow on the surface of the bar, I reached for an ashtray with my closest hand.
"My mom's Cadillac broke down again," I hummed, barely surprised.
I drew a pack of almost empty smoke from my back pocket. Bringing the carton to my mouth, I wrapped my lips around one of the cigarettes which was left exposed by the missing cover.
"She needs to take that piece of shit to a mechanic," I muttered, fumbling with my jeans, trying to find a lighter.
"He's going to take a look at it in the garage," He replied, reaching behind him and then placing a cheap lighter in front of me.
"I mean a real mechanic," I said, taking the dark blue lighter in my hands and using the light to light my addiction. "Once the machine surpasses three wheels, he has no idea what he's doing."
"It's not that much of a difference,"
I scoffed at him.
"How would you know?" I urged, taking a sharp drag of my square, the end of it lighting up like Roudoff's nose. "You don't even know what's wrong with your bike half of the time."
"That's not true," He continued to gather glasses up and down the bar space.
"My old man and I are the only ones who have ever touched your bike," I told him bitterly, hoping he would recall me having to repair his bike a few weeks ago after he had left the gas sitting in the tank for too long.
Namjoon chose to ignore my comment.
"Why don't you pour me a drink instead?" I said after not getting a word from him. "You're good at that."
"You're 18," He replied as if that meant anything.
"And you're 19 working as a bartender but, here we are."
Namjoon shot me an annoyed look, and I found it satisfying. A smirk grew on my lips as he placed his current glass in front of me. The impact of crystal glass against the wood seemed to ring on. His eyes never left mine as he reached under the bar for a bottle of Jack.
"Pour it yourself." He spoke dangerously. My sadistic mind, only finding humor in his tough-guy act.
"Well then," I grabbed the bottle by its neck and did the work myself. The brown liquor coming smoothly out of the metal pour spout, into the bottom of my glass. "Just because my old man lets you hang around the club, you're too good to pour me a drink now?"
I said only casually. It was a snide comment to myself, but of course, in the dead of silence, Namjoon caught an ear.
"What did you say?"
Based on his expression, I was sure that he heard me clearly. I nonchalantly blew a puff of smoke in his direction, his hard stare threatening to curse me. "You've got a fucking mouth on you,"
He fiercely set everything in his hands down on the counters behind him. I watched him come around the bar and walk past me. I seized my glass in the opposite hand from where my cigarette rested between my digits. Turning in my seat to keep my eyes on him, I had a feeling he had more to get off his chest.
"If anyone has to check their ego at the door, it's you, sweetheart." I took a sip of my drink as the bitter words left his lips. He began to pick up the chairs of the closest table to the bar. "Your biker princess entitlement is seriously getting under everyone's skin."
"Oh? Who is everyone, Namjoon?" I ridiculed him. Even though, in the tones of my voice, I was stung by his comment. "Your mother? Who has never needed a reason to not like me?"
I took in a breath of nicotine, realizing my voice was beginning to crack under my sentiment. "Or my father? Who's discarded everything I've done since you came in the picture?"
He appeared to be trying very hard to keep his composure from reaching a violent point.
"Your daddy issues aren't my problem," Namjoon slammed a chair down, the loud noise echoing off the ceiling of the bar. "I am not your goddamn problem!"
This has been one of the few times I had ever seen Namjoon be fueled by his anger. But I couldn't find it in me to care. In that instance, I felt completely lethargic about it all. "You aren't a member of this club. You don't know your place and that-!"
He stopped to breathe, to lower his voice before he did something bad. "That is your fucking problem."
It was strange that the moment his voice softened, I lost my temper.
"Son of a bitch," I muttered before rising to my feet. I clutched the drink tightly in my fist, using all of my force to hurl the glass at him.
Namjoon barely stepped out of the way on time. The shattering glass missed his face by mere inches, the alcohol trailed along the six feet of floor between us. I could feel my body tremble with wrath.
"I'm always wrong, aren't I?" I said, speaking more aggressively than before. "I don't ever listen, right?"
The pit of rage that coursed through me left me feeling lightheaded and with shortness of breath.
"Well guess what, sweetheart," I mocked, regaining dominance over my emotions. "It's in my nature. Just like the rest of you, I have a problem with authority."
I was acting exactly the way that my father raised me. I was a spitting image of everything he believed in. "And I am sick to death- of being crushed under the weight of selfish men who don't believe in anything."
Namjoon hadn't said a single word, he hadn't moved an inch of his cold face. I didn't know what he was thinking. I didn't care if he thought I was crazy or the saddest thing to walk the face of the earth.
It seemed that the more I tried to be who I was, the more I was denied. So, I began to question; why should I be the one to be discarded?
I dropped my cigarette on the floor, stepping on it as I walked in his direction. The room between us smelled of the cigarette I just put out, and the whiskey I didn't drink. I came to stand so close to him, the closest I had ever been.
He was significantly taller than I was, he towered over me like a mountain. I looked into his obscure eyes and questioned what made him so much better than me?
"My father thinks you're the greatest," My voice was barely a whisper full of venom. Namjoon was stiff in place as my fingers danced their way to the button of his jeans. His strong brows cut into his eyes that began to blacken. "Show me what makes you so goddamn special..."
He was on me in less than a second.
His lips pressed against my own with great intensity. His hands stroking their way down to my hips, where he urged them against him.
I couldn't even find a taunt on my lips as he stuck his tongue between them. It was warm and soft against mine. The taste of him sent shivers across my body. The rage he brought out of me went directly from my chest to the place between my legs.
My hands felt their way up to his rising torso. I cursed the thin fabric that kept me from scratching his skin. I settled for wrapping my arms around his neck, my hands sinking straight into the locks of his platinum hair.
He paused for the second I pulled at his roots, letting out a grunt of frustration before moving down to attack my vulnerable neck. His teeth drew moans from my mouth, my eyes fluttering closed at the mixture of kisses and bites.
He grew irritated by the clothes between us. His hands struggled to push me back, I lightly stumbled on my feet, Namjoon used his black eyes to search my trembling figure. He grabbed the collar of my blouse, ripping open most of the buttons in one yank. The lack of clothes underneath drove him wild.
His hands were on me again after that. He couldn't wait any longer and picked me up by my thighs. My hands impatiently began to push up his black shirt. Namjoon managed to locate the only standing table in the bar and dropped me upon it. His shirt came off the instant I hit the wood, I kept it beside me on the table.
"You're such a pretty girl," he hissed as I arched my chest toward him. His fingers handled the buckle of my belt before pulling my button undone. "But you’re so very, tough to please,"
I hated how much I loved to hear him talk to me. I pulled back into a heated kiss. My hands finally began to feel his creamlike skin under my fingernails. The feeling sends his skin to tremble under my touch as I kick off my shoes.
They tumbled to the ground and Namjoon found the waistband of my pants. His lips still pressing bruises against mine, I didn't want him to pull away. He did so to pull my pants down my legs, panties and all, leaving me almost completely bare on the table.
He leaned his damp forehead against mine. His eyes had a stronghold on my own as his hands rubbed the supple skin of my thighs.
"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, pulling me closer to the edge of the table. I gulped and took my breath all the same.
All I could give him was a panting whimper and nodding gesture.
But that was enough.
Namjoon palmed my heat, leaving my body wanting more, making it long for him. I gripped his broad shoulders, leveraging my hips closer to him. He took the suggestion and pushed his pants down his thighs. I didn't even get a glance at what he had to offer until he was pressing at my opening.
He left me breathless. I was a whining mess under the force of his hips.
"Shit," Namjoon's voice strained under the pleasure.
His fingers pressed into the skin of my hips, holding them in place as he pounded into me. I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
"Oh god..." I wished my voice hadn't trembled.
I was almost embarrassed at the noise that left my mouth, I begged him to shut me up. His mouth was addicting, each stroke of his tongue was like silk. My bare legs caressed along his, as I held back every urge to lock them around his waist.
The marks I was leaving along his back must have gotten painful because Namjoon grabbed a hold of my wrists. He pinned my hands flat on either side of me. This gave me enough room to lean back on them, offering him some room to explore. His lips were so full and smooth, I couldn't help but to want them all over me.
In this position, he leaned forward, making his thrust start to move at an angle. My eyes threatened to roll back at the new depth. His eyes relished in the display of my body. My breast stuck to the thin material of my blouse and moved at the pace of his hips.
"Oh! Namjoon..." Now that my hips were free from his hold, I began to roll them against him, almost uncontrollably.
He drifted forward to capture my lips, pressing a more delicate kiss into them. His hand slipped off my wrists and found their way to caress the skin of my cheek. Suddenly the lustful moans that had been leaving my mouth were replaced by sweeter ones. His touch was gentle, and I couldn't help but admit that his intimacy made me uncomfortable.
I took his bottom lip into my mouth and grazed it with my teeth. I saw his eyes open as he let out a low growl from the back of his throat. I pried my hand around his neck, my claws digging at the surface of his nape.
He immediately understood what I wanted and was not afraid to give it to me.
Namjoon hooked his arms around my legs, spreading my legs wider and pushing me further onto the table. I didn't think he could go any faster, but for once, I was happy he proved me wrong.
"Ah! Yes!" I cried.
That place deep inside of me he hit so flawlessly it made my eyes tear with joy. The sounds coming from my mouth were like evidence of that. I wanted to just shut my eyes and let the feeling consume me. However, he was an extraordinary sight before me.
Namjoon's head was slightly tossed back, eyes shut in concentration and bliss. His jaw clenched every time he tried to suppress one of his moans.
I tighten my walls around him, just to watch how his mouth opens with a groan.
"Fuck! You're so good." He was living a high life.
Our rapid breathing and ecstatic moaning filled the room. At his pace, he could have easily taken me to the top.
It was such a shame our time had to be cut short by a voice that was not our own.
"What the fuck is this!?" That was rage only his mother could spit.
Namjoon pulled out of me immediately as he heard his mother came in from the garage. I made sure to moan loud for her as he left me feeling empty inside.
Namjoon's body covered enough of me as I caught Jaeeun's murderous expression in my line of sight. My mind was still clouded by ecstasy but that wasn't the reason my lips wore a smile.
My father walked in moments later at the sound of Jaeeun's startle. He was just on time to catch Namjoon pulling up his pants, and my lower half covered by his black shirt.
Their expressions were priceless.
Namjoon could do no wrong in my father's eyes. He was the son he always wanted. I was hoping this would put a little strain on their relationship.
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Caught In The Middle | Mayans MC ~ Seven Years Ago
Info | Chapter 1| Chapter 2
Word Count : 5,956
The loud sound of a mix of hip-hop and norteño music played throughout the large house that belonged to the local high school's star quarterback - Antony Benavidez - like there usually was when the weekend comes around in the small town of Santo Padre, California. The house that was in the middle of the woods was the hangout spot for every teenager or young adult around. There was always a mixture of races, ages, and affiliations at the party. No cared that the younger Mayans came to party at a straight-A student's house nor that there was alcohol and drugs being passed around like it was candy. It was just how it worked. The Benavidez home was like a safe haven for lost souls that wanted to forget about their lives for the night and that was what Victoria Miller was currently doing.
The newly turned eighteen year old girl was having the time of her life as she pushed all the thoughts about her no-good parents to the back of her mind along with the fact that she lost her only mother figure, her male best friend was in prison, and her female best friend left town with the decision to never come back - all within a couple of months.
Victoria had been stressed out all week with thinking about her college future that was just around the corner while also making sure Felipe Reyes, her only father figure, was eating right and wasn't drinking all the time. The Miller girl had originally disagreed about coming to this party but she finally came after Angel, her incarcerated best friend's brother and someone she has recently gotten close to, along with his friend; Johnny "Coco" Cruz, dragged her away from the butcher shop. Victoria was honestly really glad that they had as she was finally having fun for the first time since all the shit in their lives went to hell.
It took a couple of hours into the party, but Victoria was finally feeling like a normal girl once she had lost her bodyguards; Angel and Coco, and had started drinking before she found a guy to help her forget about all the bad thoughts. She had started chatting up the heavily tattooed guy for a few minutes before she found herself pressed up against Jesse Ortiz's chest while they danced together in the middle of the makeshift dance floor with the smell of weed flowing through the air.
Victoria could feel Jesse's rough lips moving up and down her exposed neck and chest like a hungry animal wanting to eat it's prey and Victoria couldn't care less that the small time drug dealer was wrapped around her. She just felt like this was the first time in a long time that she wasn't feeling the usual heartache of losing people, so she was going to savor the feeling as long as she could as she let the tequila from her red solo cup enter her system.
The Miller girl wrapped her arms around the twenty-something-year-old's neck as she closed her hazel eyes and moved her hips to the sound of the music while she listened to the dirty whispers that were coming from Jesse's mouth while she also uttered her own teasing. Victoria knew she deserved to have a little fun, so she drug the local dealer on as she racked her nails down his chest while his hands were pressed against her ass and on her bare stomach as she hoped and prayed that she would be under his body soon to help her forget everything that has happened in the last couple of months.
"Let's get out of here, mami," the tattooed Ortiz finally whispered into Victoria's ear before he bit down on the soft skin once the sexual tension was just too much to handle. Once the brunette girl nodded her head in agreement, Jesse silently wrapped his arm around Victoria's waist and pulled her into his chest before he began to maneuver their way through the sweaty bodies to finally have his way with the untouchable girl.
Jesse had tried to get close to Victoria in the past as he had seen her around the local butcher shop and high school but it just never planned out for him since she always has her bodyguards with her. The Ortiz man had never made his move on the brunette girl as he knew Angel Reyes and Coco Cruz from the Mayans were always watching her and that would cause problems with his weed pushing business if he was to get on the wrong side of the motorcycle club. Thankfully for Jesse, he hadn't seen the two bodyguards all night, so he knew he needed to swoop in while he has the chance.
However, before Victoria and Jesse could walk out of the front door of the party house and mutually use the other's bodies for the night, they were soon stopped when there was a shout for Jesse over the loud music. The Miller girl instantly turned around along with the tattooed guy next to her before she noticed Coco walking up to them. Victoria slightly deflated at the arrival of her friend as she thought and hoped he would have left with Angel.
The young Mayans member, who had secretly been keeping an eye on the Miller girl by the kitchen, gave Victoria a pointed look as he nodded his head towards the side door towards their right before he turned his attention on the drug dealer in front of him and began to speak to him in Spanish with anger rising in his voice. Coco had grown to care about Victoria like a sister over the last couple of months that Angel had been bringing her around so he was definitely pissed to find the dumbass that is Jesse Ortiz trying to sneak her out.
Victoria let out a silent sigh as she figured Coco was here to distract Jesse so she could go find Angel. This was usually how it went when she was around guys - especially lately with the shit that happens around them. It used to be Ezekiel who would keep the guys at bay if he didn't approve of them but with Angel it was different.
Victoria and Angel had gotten a lot closer after the grief had settled in their lives over their losses. They have a better friendship now that Angel doesn't just treat her as his little brother's childhood friend, who he used to tease. Instead, he treats Victoria like an equal, like his own friend. But the difference between Ezekiel and Angel was that the older brother was always so protective and worried over her. Victoria understood why, though, as they have lost a lot lately, so she didn't really mind.
The Miller girl gave Jesse a short kiss on the lips as she knew Coco would drag her out if she didn't go now and told him, "I'll be right back," before she silently walked away from the older boys and headed straight towards the side door so she could assure Angel that she's fine before going back to the party. However, unknown to Victoria, she would never make her way back into the party house that night.
"Hey," Victoria whispered while she wrapped her arms around her waist from the cool air from the night sky once she walked out onto the silent patio before she slowly walked towards Angel, who was resting against his Harley Davidson with a cigarette hanging from his lips. The Miller girl could instantly feel that this wasn't just one of Angel's usual check-ups. There was this look on Angel's face that reminded Victoria of the one that she has been sporting these last couple of months. It was filled with sadness and unshed tears.
The older Reyes didn't say anything like Victoria thought he would - which immediately worried her. Angel only threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it before he walked directly in front of the Miller girl. He then took off his leather kutte and held it in one hand before he took off his black zip-up jacket and placed it over the shivering girl's shoulders.
"Thanks," Victoria mumbled as she placed her arms through the long holes and pulled the jacket to her chest before she followed after Angel towards his motorcycle. The Miller girl watched the older Reyes in silence for a moment before she couldn't help but ask as she was starting to worry about him, "are you okay, Ange?" This was so unlike him - especially at a party filled with girls and alcohol. The few times that she would go to a party with Angel and Coco, he was always laughing and enjoying himself, so Victoria knew something was definitely up with him.
Angel, once again, didn't answer back to the younger girl. He instead quietly placed his kutte back onto his shoulders before he pulled out two helmets from the compartment on his motorcycle. "Let's go for a ride," Angel finally uttered in a small mumble before he straddled his motorcycle and held out the helmet to Victoria.
The Miller girl bit down on her bottom lip as she watched Angel's facial expressions for a moment before she decided to humor him as she knew Angel would tell her what's wrong when he's ready. So, Victoria took the couple of steps to the older Reyes' stretched out hand and went to grab the matte black helmet that Angel always had for her. However, before Victoria could put the helmet onto her head, Angel grabbed ahold of her wrist and pulled her towards him so they were chest to chest before he gently settled the safety item on her head. The quiet Angel then stared into Victoria's hazel eyes for a few seconds before he buckled up the helmet.
Victoria gave the silent Angel a small, thankful smile before she placed her hands onto the older Reyes' shoulders and pulled herself onto the large motorcycle like she was used to doing these last couple of months. The Miller girl then wrapped her arms tightly around Angel's waist once she felt the loud motor start up before she watched as they drove away from the Benavidez house. Victoria honestly loved when Angel would take her for a ride as it felt like everything in the world just drifted away.
The two best friends rode around their abnormally silent hometown and down the long highways that overlooked the mountains for over fifteen minutes as they both just enjoyed the other's company. Angel was more lost in his thoughts as they rode around while Victoria was just enjoying all the flash of colors that they passed while she had her cheek lying against Angel's leather kutte. It was moments like this that the twenty-two year old and the eighteen-year-old savored. It was their form of comforting each other from their ethic lives that revolve around the club, school, the butcher shop, and the stress from losing Marisol and Ezekiel.
But sadly, the calmness that settled between the two close friends had to come to an end when Angel slowly pulled his motorcycle in front of the old brick house that belonged to the Miller family. Angel and Victoria would never admit to each other, but they always hated this part during their rides together. It was like when they are together on the open road that they could conquer the world but once they stopped, all the pain and worry comes back.
Victoria sat against Angel's back for a minute or two in the middle of her driveway as she absorbed his comfort that she didn't know she needed before she had to force herself to get off of the motorcycle with a light sigh. The Miller girl then took the helmet off and placed it into the storage compartment on the Harley before she faced the unnaturally silent Angel. Victoria knew that he was still dealing with something in his head, so she gave Angel a small smile before she questioned, "you wanna come in from a quick drink?" She knew if she just flat out asked Angel what was wrong then he would just shut her out as he rarely liked to show his emotions to anyone other than her.
The older Reyes had just sat on his motorcycle as he enjoyed the feeling of Victoria against him while he smoked another cigarette but when he felt Victoria leave, he felt the tension enter his body again. Angel waited until he finished his cigarette before he turned his head to face the brunette girl with a raised eyebrow and mumbled, "where's the 'rents?"
Victoria rolled her hazel eyes as she hugged Angel's black jacket closely to her cold body at the question of her nonexistent parents before she answered with an emotionless voice, "they're gone for the next six months." She carelessly shrugged her shoulders before she explained, "they're locked up in county." Victoria honestly was used to her parents never being home. Victoria had spent more time at the Reyes house instead of her own in the last year than her whole childhood. So, the Miller girl didn't let it bother her. She actually feels revealed whenever she knows that her parents won't be home as the old house holds enough trauma for one life time.
Angel silently nodded his head when he knew her parents weren't home before he parked his bike. John and Stacey Miller were never really a fan of him since he's in a motorcycle club but that never stopped Angel before - especially when it comes to their daughter, the only person he cared about - besides his club and his father. Angel usually would have taken Victoria to his small house down the road as he knew she hated staying here but he didn't need the MC bothering him right now when he just wanted to spend time with Victoria, so he grabbed his keys to his motorcycle before he silently trailed behind Victoria as she headed into her home.
"Make yourself comfortable," Victoria told Angel as she tossed her house keys onto the hallway table and took off her sneakers before she silently headed towards the kitchen and went directly to the cabinet that held her father's alcohol stash. The Miller girl looked around the different bottles before she found the one that she was looking for; tequila. It was hers and Angel's go to when they wanted to forget about everything and she knew that was exactly what Angel needed right now with how he's been acting tonight.
Once Victoria had the full bottle of tequila in her hand, she made her way into the living room, where she found her best friend lounging on the couch while an old episode of The Simpsons from the earlier 90's played on her parents' old TV. The Miller girl couldn't help but release a small chuckle at the tattooed biker watching the cartoon show as she leaned against the wall that connects the living room and the kitchen.
The silent Angel immediately lifted his brown eyes towards the left of the living room and away from the yellow characters on the TV screen once he heard the familiar sound of Victoria's soft laughter. "¿De qué te ríes, niñita?" [What are you laughing at, little girl?] The older Reyes wondered as he lifted an amused eyebrow at his best friend. Even though Angel wasn't feeling like himself tonight, the sound coming from Victoria could always put a small smile on his face as the sound has rarely came out of her in these last couple of months.
Victoria instantly rolled her hazel eyes when Angel spoke before she quietly walked towards the run-down couch and slumped her body next to the older Reyes. "You know I hate when you speak to me in Spanish when you know I can't understand a damn thing," the Miller girl muttered as she opened up the new bottle of tequila and took a big sip before she passed it over to the smirking Angel. This was how hers and Angel's friendship went. He would always tease her with his native tongue or he would just mess her for no reason. It used to bother Victoria when she was younger but now it was sort of comforting.
The older Reyes pulled Victoria into his chest with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders as he got comfortable on the scratchy couch and took a gulp of the tequila before he handed it back. "You know you love it," Angel muttered with a throaty chuckle and placed a friendly kiss on the top of Victoria's brunette hair before he moved his brown eyes back to the TV screen and continued to watch the episode of The Simpsons that he had probably watched at least a dozen of times.
Victoria shook in her head with a small smile shining across her lips before she took another drink from the bottle. She always liked these moments with Angel when he was carefree. However, Victoria knew that he was deflecting his emotions, so she just relaxed against his arm in silence while they continued to pass the bottle around and watched the cartoon show as she knew Angel would open up to her when he was ready.
It took a full episode and a half of The Simpsons and a shared bottle of tequila before the young Reyes man finally showed his true emotions and feelings as he pulled away from the safety of Victoria's warm touch and placed his head into his hands that were resting on top of his jean-covered knees. Angel then released a heavy and shaky sigh before he confessed in a whisper about what has been bothering him all night long, "I miss mama and Ezekiel."
Victoria's hand immediately went to Angel's leather kutte at her friend's confession while her heart began to squeeze with the familiar ache that she has been experiencing since everything went to shit. "Oh, Ange, I miss them too," the Miller girl whispered as she rubbed her hand up and down Angel's back as she tried to offer him some sort of comfort. Victoria knew it wasn't much but it is usually what works for them. She and Angel would have days like this and the only thing that allowed them to heal was to talk and be with each other until they felt okay to continue living their lives.
"Why did she have to leave?" Angel questioned as he continued to hold his head in his hands as he didn't want Victoria to see the tears flowing down his brown eyes. "She was supposed to come home to us," the older Reyes mumbled as that horrible day began to replay over and over in his mind. Angel usually didn't have days like this as much as he did during the first month but something just snapped while he was the party and all he wanted to do was to be with Victoria and no one else. He loves Coco like a brother, but the only person that really understands what he's going through is the girl next to him.
Victoria released a shaky breath as she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes that wasn't rubbing Angel's back before she uttered softly, "I wish I knew, Angel. I wish there was someway to bring her back. I really do." Marisol Reyes was an angel sent from above. She was the only woman in Victoria's life that actually loved and cared about her. Victoria had spent days and days wide awake asking the same questions that were running through Angel's mind right now. She may not feel her death in the same extent as Angel since he was Marisol's real child, but it still hurt her all the same.
"And it's all my fucking fault that EZ is locked up in prison instead of here," Angel ranted as he dragged his hand up to his hair and pushed it out of his eyes with a loud huff. The older Reyes shook his head as he mumbled, "I should have never given him that gun. I should have known that he was lying to me!" Angel then quickly stood up from the couch and began to pace as he could feel the guilt and anger enter his chest before he continued to shout, mostly to himself, "he didn't need fucking protection! I could have done that myself with the club!"
The Miller girl quickly stood up from the couch once she realized what Angel was trying to do like he always does; take the blame. It was something that he had started doing since he never expressed his emotions the right way after the funeral and the sentencing. Felipe never really talked or tried to help Angel after their lost, so Victoria would always try her best. "Hey, hey, hey," Victoria whispered as she cautiously walked up to the pacing and mumbling Angel, "you can't do that to yourself." The Miller girl gently placed her hand onto Angel's lower arm as she tried to talk him out of this funk, "you couldn't have known what EZ was going to do. You thought you were keeping your little brother safe and you can't blame yourself for that, Ange."
Once Victoria felt Angel calm down slightly at her touch, she walked in front of the tall biker and wrapped her arms around his waist before she laid her head onto his lower chest. "EZ doesn't blame you either, Angel," the Miller girl continued as she tried to help her best friend, "I talk to him every week and he tells me every time that he loves you. So, you can't keep building up this guilt when it wasn't your fault. I know it sucks hearing this, but things like this just happens." Victoria looked up into Angel's brown eyes that were already watching her before she uttered with a sad smile, "you did all you could, Ange."
The older Reyes silently nodded his head as he stared down at the brunette girl before he cradled her head with his right hand and pushed it into his chest as he just needed to hold Victoria close. Angel knew she was right but he would never admit it. Instead, he just wrapped the girl that he had recently called his best friend in his arms as he breathed in her scent that reminded him of the feeling of home. Angel felt like the only person that kept him sane these days was Victoria as she knew just what to say to pull him from his bad moods.
The two young adults continued to hold each other for a few minutes as they stood in the middle of the old Miller house with the sound of another episode of The Simpsons in the background as they absorbed each other's comfort like they usually would when they would feel down like this. However, they both realized that this time was different, but not in that exact moment, when Angel whispered, "Tori."
Victoria slowly lifted her head up from Angel's chest at the nickname that he would sometimes call her before she looked into his now determined brown eyes. The Miller girl didn't understand what had changed in the last couple of minutes of silence, so she whispered nervously, "what's wrong?" However, Angel didn't give her a response. Instead, the young Mayans member slowly lifted his right hand to Victoria's cheek and gently rubbed her soft skin while he stared directly into her hazel eyes before Angel bent down and placed a soft and cautious kiss onto Victoria's lips.
The Miller girl's eyes instantly fluttered shut at the soft touch and kissed Angel back for a few seconds before she quickly pulled away once she realized what was happening. Victoria silently brought her point finger to her lips as she stared into Angel's brown eyes with her own hazel ones widened before she voiced her confusion, "what are you doing, Angel?" Victoria honestly was so lost right now and it wasn't because of the alcohol that was slowly leaving her system. She never even thought Angel saw her in anyway that wasn't just his best friend, so she didn't know what to think.
Angel didn't phase from the small rejection from Victoria. He kept his hand right on her cheek as he rubbed Victoria's soft skin before Angel exclaimed in a quiet voice, "you're my best friend, Tori. You are the only one I can trust - besides Coco." The older Reyes then let out a small chuckle before he continued, "I honestly don't have a damn clue what I'm doing anymore but you, hermosa, makes all of the bad shit just go away." Angel leaned down and placed another kiss onto Victoria's lips before he whispered against her mouth as he tried to convince her that this was a good idea, "you make me feel whole, hermosa, and I just want to feel anything but this pain and guilt."
A small, sad sigh escaped Victoria's mouth at Angel's explanation as she knew that she felt exactly the same. "I know, Ange," the Miller girl whispered as she tightly wrapped her arms around the older boy's neck before she placed a soft kiss onto his exposed collarbone. "I would have never gotten out of bed after mama's death, Emily leaving, and EZ in prison without you," Victoria confessed as she breathed in Angel's comforting scent.
The Miller girl knew that this could all go one of two ways for them. It could be fine and they would still be best friends in the morning or this could fuck up the only friendship that she cares about along with the family that has cared for her since she was six. However as Angel held her in his arms and gave her the time to think, Victoria thought back to the party and how she was so willing to sleep with the local small time drug dealer to forget about all the pain that she and Angel both share. Victoria knew it would be safer to get rid of the pain with someone that not only cared about her but also understood what she's feeling, so she finally decided to give in.
"I love you, Ange. You're my best friend," Victoria uttered quietly as she looked back up into his brown eyes. She placed a couple of soft kisses on his lips before she continued, "and I trust you with my life." Victoria tightened her arms around the older Reyes' neck as she pushed herself closer until there was barely any room between them before she murmured with a heavy breath, "you always make me feel safe and help me forget about all the shit that happens around us." Victoria then placed another but deeper kiss onto Angel's lips before she begged, "let me be that for you too. Let me help you feel better."
Angel instantly released a breath that he didn't know he was holding in and whispered against Victoria's lips, "you already have, hermosa," before he pressed his lips against hers for a gentle kiss. It, at first, was slow as the best friends tested the waters before the small makeout session in the middle of the silent house became more and more intense as they got lost into each other. It only took a couple of minutes of the best friends kissing and forgetting the world before Angel bent down and wrapped the Miller girl's legs around his waist. Angel then carried Victoria down the hallway as she placed kisses along his neck until he came to a stop at the familiar bedroom that he had been in a couple of times when they would stay over in the Miller house.
The young Mayan softly placed his best friend down onto the turquoise blanket and slid his kutte off of his shoulders before he placed his knees onto the small bed and stared down at Victoria. "You look so gorgeous," Angel whispered before he slowly began to pull his jacket away from Victoria's body along with her small tank top. Angel then placed opened mouth kisses across Victoria's collarbone as he whispered, "I'll always keep you safe."
Victoria knew Angel was going extremely slow as he wanted to make sure that she wanted to do this and she loved him for that. But he was making her quite frustrated with his soft movements, so Victoria grabbed the bottom of Angel's grey v-neck and swiftly pulled it away from his body before she pulled him into a needy kiss as she tightly wrapped her legs around his waist. "No more talking," Victoria heavy breathed out as her fingers roamed Angel's muscular back, "I need you now, Angel."
The older Reyes released a light chuckle against Victoria's neck and nipped on her skin before he whispered teasingly, "someone's eager." Angel then quickly flicked open her jeans and pulled them down Victoria's legs as he couldn't hold in the need for her any longer despite his teasing. Angel leaned back on his heels as he also began to unbutton his jeans while he watched as Victoria ripped off her nude colored bra from her chest and slid out of her matching panties.
"Me estas volviendo loca, hermosa," [you are driving me insane, beautiful] Angel whispered as he crawled up Victoria's body and settled himself between her warm thighs. Angel then brought his best friend into another heated kiss as he let Victoria slid his black boxers down his waist until they were both bare in front of each other. The older Reyes hooked Victoria's left leg up his side as he teased her slit while he stared directly into her hazel eyes before he let out a heavy groan when he felt himself slide between her slick lips.
"Oh, Angel," the Miller girl moaned out as she felt her best friend stretch out her insides from his large size before she hooked both of her legs around Angel's waist and her arms around his shoulders to feel him even deeper. Victoria let out a content sigh when she felt Angel move back and forth inside of her as he built them both to their releases. The Miller girl couldn't remember the last time that she felt this good. Yeah, she's has had hookups during high school but this felt so different. Angel is her best friend, so it felt so much more imitate - which made everything else just fade to black.
The two best friends spent the next thirty or so minutes in each other's arms while they roamed across the small bed as they both just forgot about the outside world while they got high off of the other. Victoria and Angel just couldn't get enough of each other as it helped with all the pain that they had been feeling in these last couple of months from all the people that they had lost. But sadly, the exhaustion was finally taking its tole on the best friends, so they finally came to a stop with Victoria's head resting against Angel's bare chest and a blanket thrown over them as tired sighs and pleased smiles showed across their faces.
"Thank you, princesa," Angel whispered after a few minutes of content silence had passed between them before he placed a soft kiss on top of Victoria's messy brunette hair. The young Mayan actually felt so much better, emotionally and physically, after taking this next step with his best friend. Yeah, Angel knew that this could all blow up in his face but he just knew that Victoria could help ease the pain for him and that he obviously did the same for her.
"Where are we supposed to go from here, Angel?" Victoria wondered as she moved her hazel eyes up to the Reyes' brown ones that were already watching her. The Miller girl couldn't help but worry about what this would mean for their friendship. It felt so damn good to be with Angel this way but she didn't want half an hour of fun to ruin the close friendship they have. Angel is one of the most important people in her life and it would just absolutely crush her if things turned out badly between them.
Angel slowly and gently ran his fingertips through Victoria's brown hair as he thought for a moment before he uttered with complete confidence, "it can be whatever we want it to be." The older Reyes brought his hand to Victoria's chin when he could feel fear coming from her before he promised softly, "nothing is going to change between us." Angel shrugged his shoulders as he tried to assure her, "if you think it'll be awkward between us if we continue messing around then we can stop or if you want to do this when we are feeling shitty then we can do that too." Angel placed a soft kiss onto Victoria's lips before he continued, "you're my best friend, Tori, and I just want to make sure you're happy so it's your choice."
Victoria silently nodded her head as she absorbed Angel's words before she brought her hand to his cheek and pulled him into another kiss. "We'll just be there for each other and nothing has to change?" The Miller girl questioned as she stared into Angel's brown eyes as she just needed assurance that everything would be okay between them. The sex was amazing but Victoria wouldn't let that ruin the friendship that they had. If she had to, she would call quits on the whole thing as she wasn't willing to lose the one person that keeps her sane in Santo Padre.
"Exactly," Angel whispered against Victoria's lips with a cheeky grin plastered across his face as he softly ran his hand down the lower part of the Miller girl's back. "We'll always be best friends but this is just when we need that extra comfort during those rough days that sneak up on us," the older Reyes explained as he held the brunette girl tightly in his arms.
Victoria released a breath that she didn't know that she was holding in at Angel's assuring answer about their situation. She was glad that nothing would change. Victoria never really gave much thought about the whole friends-with-benefits type of relationship but she just felt that she and Angel could figure this all out. She had faith that they could still be best friends and have these moments of comfort with each other like Angel promised. "I trust you, Ange," Victoria whispered after a moment of silence and leaned in for a slow kiss as she agreed with this plan between them before she pulled away and rested her head back onto Angel's chest while she listened to his steady heartbeat.
The Miller girl knew it was the right choice as they laid in her bed and Victoria didn't feel any awkward feelings with being with her naked best friend. It weirdly almost felt natural to her but it was just how she and Angel have always been around each other since they had became close friends. They only had to be in the other's presence to feel this calmness enter their chests and Victoria knew this set up was the perfect way for them to help comfort each other during rough times as there will always be one constant in their hectic lives and that will always be each other.
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