#i like some of these more than others but I'm lost in the fc sauce rn so I wanna post them anyway

[luuckyyou]

Homegrown blorbos from my video games :)

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

seeing someone else.

BISHOP LOSA. MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @encounterthepast: Hello lovely Aurora, can I request angst prompt number 7 with Bishop please, thank you, 💕

❝ prompt: “Don’t you dare to lie to me again”.

❝ request by @arveeee: Hello my dear, so I was thinking, and there is one sentence to that can't go out of my head. So it is: "let me in" with Bishop (I know I'm boring). Well I believe in you, I love you , and I love your writing. Say hello to Arya.

❝ request by anon: Hi, Aurora. I love your writing sm 🥺 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with my man Bishop? I was thinking of something like the reader and him being in kinda like a friends with benefits situation, but she decides to break it offf because she’s really upset. And maybe Bishop doesn’t understand so she eventually explains to him that she wants more out of their relationship and he reassures her they are more and they always have been? Maybe leads to like soft/romantic smut? Thanks so much!

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! so, that new trailer huh?😵 would absolutely love if you could write me something for a stressed out bishop with the prompts "Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!" and "Let me help you make it better." Thank you tons!!💖

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Another tequila shot goes down your throat, ripping it off as you almost smash the small glass on the table. Tossing your head back as you rest your back against the sofa, sitting on the floor, you take a look around you. The gloomy has taken over your house as the night has fallen a couple of hours ago. It's the fourth night you are trying to forget about Bishop and whatever you two had. But you can't dismiss from your mind his caresses —his fingers drawing patterns on your back, his lips touring your neck with delicate kisses as if he was afraid of breaking your skin, his mustache tickling your inner thighs, his raspy voice articulating your name in moans. It's the fourth night miserably failing, remembering the last time you spent together, the way he was holding his back pretending he wasn't sad because you were leaving him.

“Obispo, it's over. Don't make a big deal. We're just friends who occasionally fucks”. You scoffed somewhat annoyed because of him and his interrogation, but how could you tell him you were falling in love with him?

“I ain't making any deal, (Y/N). I just want to know what made you change your mind and keep a wide berth”.

“I'm seeing someone else”.

"Don't you dare to lie to me”. He growled, taking a step closer towards you with the intention of stopping you from picking up and packing the less stuff you had in his house.

“Think what you want”. You replied, rolling your eyes.

The first tear flows in the left corner of your mouth not appreciably at first, but then, some more until finding yourself crying. You miss him so much. You miss watching him sleep peacefully in the small hours, drifting slightly when you caress his cheek using your fingertips. Flexing your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms around trying to contain the loud sobs, hiding your face between them. How have you been so stupid to fall for him like that? The two of you made it clear from the very first moment. Friends with benefits. But after a couple of weeks, you started to notice that he used to push away any other woman that it wasn't you, he didn't spend much time in the clubhouse preferring to do it in your house —cuddling, watching movies, playing poker; kissing every single inch of flesh covering your anatomy.

Reality hit you the moment he murmured something like you're a miracle, thinking you were calmly sleeping between his strong arms and your back stuck to his chest, no distance among your bodies. You knew it was a thing produced by the alcohol running through your veins and it wasn't fair for you to fantasize about the idea he was catching feelings for you. So you just ran away, like a coward.

Some clumsy knocks on the front door of your house bring you back to reality. At first, you try to ignore them. It's not like you're in the mood for visits, knowing that probably it's Leti at the other side of the place, worried because you haven't replied to her text all day. But she insists and insists. And you know how stubborn she can be sometimes. Serving yourself another shot and drinking it in just one gulp, because you're too sober to endure another of her Ted talks about positivism and what he has lost, you stand up on your bare feet. Everything around you spins dizzyingly for a second until you can react, feeling every knock like a hammer hitting your brain.

“I've heard you the fi—”.

Opening the door to receive her, your vocals get frozen as you face Bishop in a deplorable drunk state. Just like you are.

“Let me in”. He barks, not being able to look at your eyes, trying to pass you away to the inside, but you stop him.

“Go home, Obis—”.

“I'm home, shut the fuck up”. He frowns taking a sip from a bottle of whisky you haven't noticed till now. “You think you can kick my fuckin' ass outta your life by saying you're seeing someone else? You think I'm fuckin' stupid, queri— Were you crying…?”

From anger, his tone of voice falls to one lower and lower, as the concern and the worry cover his annoyance completely. Throwing away his drink to somewhere over the grass of your yard, he holds your face onto his palms. His touch causes you to tremble. His warm touch causes you to break into aching sobs, panting as you can't breathe properly. All this time you've been thinking you have missed him, but you didn't have a real idea of how it feels until his fingers have been laid on your wetted skin.

Bishop comes closer to you, touching the tip of your nose with his. You can smell the mixed scent of cigarettes and whisky emanating from his cracked lips, it doesn't bother you, tho. “Don't kiss me, please”.

Until this precise moment, he has loved your begs and pleads to his bones, but now he hates them more than anything he could ever hate in his life. It breaks his heart. He can't deal with your rejection one night more.

“Why…? Why can't I kiss you?” He asks desperately at the edge of his tears. “Please, stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy. I can't even take care of my own shit without you by my side”.

Your knees feel weak at his words, still believing he only says that because you're just a good lover, the best in the sheets, as he told you once.

“I… I…” You babble nervously, trying to not place your hands on the laps of his leather kutte to finally push him into the needed kiss you've been craving for the last four days. “I love you”.

And why the confession doesn't take him by surprise? Why doesn't he look confused? Why does it seem like he already knew it? Bishop can't help but draw a fleeting grin across his face.

“Do you think I came here, falling into pieces, just because it feels like being in Heaven when I'm deep inside you?” He whispers, clicking his tongue slightly. “I didn't believe you when you told me you were seeing someone else. But the minimal thought I could have about it made me lose the less sanity I have”.

You blink stupefied at his own confession about his feelings. Your fingers tour his abdomen up in slow motion, starting to have some faith in his words.

“Mi amor…” Bishop mumbles in soft giggles shaking his head. “I adore you, mi amor. I don't want anything else than to share my life with you, and only with you”.

He doesn't wait for a signal from you to kiss your lips, he just takes what it's his. And you can't hold back a painful gasp, expelling in it all the sorrow you've been carrying for the last four days being separated from him. Your hands grip his shirt in two fists, pushing him as much closer as the two of you can be, about to melt in the same figure. All this time you have been trying to not love him, to forget him; and you were just delaying the inevitable. You are made for each other, that's a fact. Your lips fit to perfection —your bodies, your hearts.

“Tell me you love me”. You whimper against his mouth, causing him to smile because of your need of making it real by these simple three words.

“Love isn't enough to express what you make me feel”.

Bishop bends down without prior notice to wrap his huge hands on the back of your thighs, urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs. You haven't forgotten how good his warmth takes over you when he holds you like that, walking inside your house and kicking the door close. Guiding his steps across your place and its hallways, he reaches your dark dorm barely illuminated by a post light outdoors. He lies you down on your bed —a bed that has welcomed you for the last eight months in every kind of state. Drunk, tired, happy.

Now, you're a mix of them. Drunk in tequila, tired of crying, but happy for having him back for the rest of your life.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell @codenamewife

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

breathing.

© @supervalcsi

OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @supervalcsi: Dear Aurora, my love, my sunshine, may I get prompt 12 from angst list with Bishop?? Thank you so much my friend! I love you!!! 💕💕💕💕

❝ prompt: “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”.

❝ words: about 1.3k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

“Didn't know where else to go”.

His voice sounds lower than normal, as if he is on the verge of tears but fighting against it. You don't ask him how he knows your address, giving him enough space to come inside your house. Bishop doesn't doubt then, guiding his steps through the door to let you close it behind your back as you turn around to face him.

Sometimes he goes to the bar you work in, outside of Santo Padre, in one of the lost roads to nowhere. The two of you spend the night talking about anything concrete, interchanging words. And you can assure that between both there's some kind of connection since you met.

But tonight, he looks too different than usual. The black bags under his eyes mean that he hasn't had much sleep the last few days. The grown beard melting with his well-groomed mustache let you know that he hasn't taken care of himself lately. Just surviving like a lost soul, in pain for something you don't know. Traveling your eyes to his hands, you quickly notice his reddened knuckles a little bit raw.

Licking your bottom lip, hesitating, you take the first step ahead to taste the waters, invading his personal space. Knowing that Bishop is not going to take one back, you shorten till the minimal distance among your bodies to wrap him with your arms. Trying to comfort him, you hug him as much tightly as you can, feeling the man reciprocating the gesture; clinging himself to you as if you were the anchor that helps him to stay afloat.

Only then, he breaks into pieces, letting the tears run down his cheeks as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Landing one of your hands on the back of his head, you caress gently his hair, wanting to make him feel better. You're not going to ask if he doesn't want to talk. The interrogatories aren't part of your personality. You're the one who usually listens in silence, and maybe offers some kind of advice. But it's not what Bishop needs, not tonight.

Much to your regret, you pull yourself away slowly, without doing any sharp move. Sliding your fingers down by his shoulders to the folds of the black kutte, you help him to take it off so you can hang it on a chair in the living room. He's following you like a lost puppy, keeping his head bowed. Doing the same with the black hoodie, after unzipping it, you hold his hand to guide him through the hallway towards your room.

The place is submerged under the gloom, only illuminated by some streetlights outside, but enough to see the tears on his face. After cleaning them with your fingers, while he takes off his boots and undoes the belt to throw it somewhere, you give him some space to undress and place his jeans and his shirt on the chair next to the desk.

Once lying down on your bed, you welcome him again between your bare and warm arms, aware that he feels a little better by the way his breathing sounds more calmed. Urging Bishop to rest his head on your chest, you can't help but leave a tender kiss on it.

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”.

Your voice is honeyed. A soft whisper transmitting him peace. Whilst his arms are surrounding your body and your left one is around his chest, your right hand caresses slowly his cheek; using your fingertips, barely watching the man close his eyes. Soon, his breathing is inappreciable, taking the same rhythm as yours.

Still half asleep you roll around the mattress, to hide your face from sunbeams, filling up your lungs with the strong manly scent from your unexpected visitor last night. Tightening the grip around you, Bishop sighs more awake than sleep, pressing his lips on your forehead for a kiss that lasts longer than expected. But you don't care. It doesn't bother you. Feels good, after all.

“Should I say sorry or thank you?” His throaty voice slides itself through your ears with sorrow and shame.

“You don't have to be sorry, nor thank me anything”.

The smile curving his lips brushes your forehead softly, slightly jumping your heart for no reason, apparently. Resting your heads over the pillow, without breaking the mess of legs and arms tangled you are, your eyes laid on each other. You don't know what time it is, but he looks more rested than yesterday.

“Two days ago… I lost someone important to me”.

“I'm sorry, Bish”.

“Yeah, me too. But things happen for a reason, isn't it?”

Briefly nodding, you're able to see him smiling again. A sleepy grin disappears after a short second. Closing his eyes again, the man sinks his face into the crook of your neck, holding you closer under his grip to his body. The soft gasp escaping his lips, after taking a breath of your sweet smells, makes you giggle because of the tickles.

But that bubble explodes when your phone rings. Normally, no one calls you before two at noon and it couldn't be this late.

“Don't answer, please…”

“Just lemme check who it is”.

Tossing a hand over your head, palming the nightstand until finding the phone, you place it in front of your head. Unknown number. You don't recognize it. Frowning confused, you poke Bishop's cheek to make him look at it. Seems like he recognizes it by the way he has to roll his eyes. Lying on his back and grabbing it, he slides his thumb over the screen to pick up the call.

“(Y/N)?”

“It's Obispo”.

“Jesus fucking Christ, brother, I'm too fucking old for these games. Been looking for you since yesterday morning, about having a heart attack”.

“Don't be dramatic, Taza… How the hell 'you have (Y/N)'s number? Actually, how the hell 'you know her?” Looking at you, the only thing you do is shrug confused. You haven't heard about this man in your life.

“I know you better than yourself, you should know it already”.

“I'm going to hang up”.

“Hey, hey, wait! You okay?”

“I was fucking okay till you call, enjoy my seat today”.

Not giving the man at the other side of the speaker the chance to respond, Bishop finishes the call, leaving the phone on the nightstand behind him.

“How did you know where I live?” You can't help but ask, showing up your curiosity.

“I went to the bar, hoping you were there. But your boss told me you were free, so I ended up threatening him to earn your address. He didn't want to tell me”.

“Maybe he thought you were a psycho”.

“Or a Mayan”.

“Yeah, that gang of Chicanos is pretty crazy too”.

“I hate that fucking name”.

Hearing Bishop laughing for the first time in a week makes you feel some nice shivers traveling your body, resting a leg over his lap and fitting your body to his.

“I came to you because you always cheer me up. No matter what. And I don't know how you do it, but I don't want you to stop”.

Lying by his side and placing a hand on the back of your thigh, to keep your leg over his, the Mexican slides his free arm under your neck with so much care.

“I like to see you happy, to see you smiling. It isn't something I can avoid”.

“What else you can't avoid?”

“The desire of asking you to stay”.

“I'm going to stay if you want me to stay”.

“What if I ask you to kiss me?”

Leaning towards you, the response doesn't wait. At first, Bishop just presses his lips against yours. A soft cramp that bristles your skin completely. Soon, your lips start to move slowly in sync, tasting each other, cutting off your breathings. It is better than you have fantasized sometimes while talking with him sitting on the bar and sharing old whisky in the small hours. And he feels good too, even if he continues carrying the sorrow because of his recent loss, knowing that he has won you somehow.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine @spideysimpossiblegirl

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

lazy morning.

Gif credits to my lovely @sonsofeorl

EZEKIEL ‘EZ’ REYES.

MAYANS MC.┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ request by anon: I hope you are still taking requests.... can I bother you for an Ezekiel prompt from the fluff list; #5? Tysm

❝ prompt: “I would’ve had breakfast already, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn’t want to wake you”.

❝ words: about 600 words.

❝ a / n: don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

Slightly stirring under the grip that has your anatomy wrapped, you sigh drawing a sleepy smirk on your face as the short kisses travel from your neck to the sweet spot behind your ear. EZ's scent fills your lungs almost dizzying you when you take a deep breath from his skin, making your heart jump delighted.

“Buenos días”. He hums with the characteristic hoarse tone of voice he has when he wakes up. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than good”.

You have slept together uncountable times since you started to date, but last night has been different. It has been your first night in your house. A month ago you decided to move together. He left the trailer he has been leaving since he was released from jail and you have left your parent's house. Your new apartment isn't anything special, big, or luxurious. But now, it's your home and it feels different from all the places you have been through your life.

“I would’ve had breakfast already, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn’t want to wake you”.

“Such a gentleman…” You joke turning your body around to face him.

Your lips meet his sooner than you could think, transmitting to each other all the love you feel. And you couldn't be more grateful for Bishop giving Ezekiel a couple of days off from the club and its business. You have planned to spend all day in your bed, cuddling and doing nothing more than enjoying your company.

Your boyfriend embraces you tightly, spreading sloppy kisses all around your face till earning some giggles from you, resting his face on the pillow. His fingers caress your hair as he gets lost in your shiny eyes, nose against nose, and your nails scratching softly his bareback.

“This is probably the best decision I've ever taken”.

“Probably?” You scoff raising your eyebrows in a funny gesture.

“Yeah, I'm between looking for you when I came back and living together”.

“Oh… Hard decision”.

“I can make room for both to win the first prize”.

“Till we get married”.

“That will be definitely the best decision ever. (Y/N) Reyes, nightm—I mean, wife of Ezekiel Reyes for life”.

“Pendejo…” Pinching his back and making him arch it between laughs, he practically ends up over your body, resting his face on your chest.

“And best pillow ever”.

“Get the… fuck, EZ, you are too… heavy”. It's not that you can breathe, but you love to tease him.

“I don't hear you complaining when you beg me to be on top”.

“It's different!” The chuckles come from your belly producing funny sounds that provoke him to laugh too.

Rolling to his side, EZ urges you to lie over his abdomen roaming his hands on your thighs barely covered by a baggy black shirt, as he closes his eyes peacefully breathing.

“You hungry then, uh?” You mumble leaving smooth kisses on his chin, watching him nod his head a second after. “So… pancakes? Fried eggs? Bacon?”

Sitting upon him and putting your hands on his chest, EZ opens his eyelids showing you a naughty smile as his digits get nailed in your hips.

“My future wife”.

“Well, I see no ring, so… dunno 'bout who you're talking about”. You reply raising your right hand to wave your fingers in front of his face.

“There will be one, although you don't need it to know you're gonna marry me sooner or later, mi amor”. By putting a hand on the center of your back, he makes some strength to force you to lean and come closer to his lips. “C'mon… do your magic”.

“Hocus pocus…” You utter funnily, slowly rocking your hips to create some friction.

“Very funny…” EZ scoffs, having to swallow a brief gasp.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @encounterthepast @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine @spideysimpossiblegirl

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

there's no better place.

CHE ‘TAZA’ ROMERO.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ a / n: as always, don't forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

© gif: mine.

You don't start to clean the club until the last member has left, picking up empty beers, ashtrays, shot glasses and any kind of trash, before putting the chairs over the tables to sweep and mop the floor. It doesn't take you more than ten minutes, being something strange since normally you spend more than an hour cleaning everything around you. But the crew is not in the mood to celebrate anything, only to stay together to weather the storm. You have heard them talk, even if you have tried to not stick your nose in their business. You care about them though, they're your family at the end of the day.

Taking one last look to make sure everything is on point, you grab your leather jacket to wear it while turning off the lights of the club. With your hand on the knob and facing the darkness inside, you close the door and lock it up. You turn around with the clear intention to head your car until someone calls your attention. You thought all the crew was gone, but you were wrong. Taza is sitting on the stairs, head bowed down, playing with something between his ringed fingers. You can see above his left shoulder what it is. His gun.

He hasn't been the same since Riz left and his brothers are so concerned about their loss that they haven't noticed his world is falling apart since that day. Anyone, but you. Taza has always been a ray of sunshine. Laughing, telling jokes, cheering everybody up. Now he is just darkness, serious gestures, monosyllables as responses. And you have never felt more worried for anybody than you feel for him. Biting briefly your bottom lip as you keep the keys inside a pocket, you guide your steps slowly towards him. One of your hands lands on his shoulder whilst sitting down, before wrapping your arms around his left arm. Leaning to his side, you press your lips on his cheek, watching him close his eyes for an instant as Taza proffers a quiet sigh.

“You've talked to me one hundred times about that hammock you've on your porch to see the stars, but you haven't shown it to me yet”. You whisper resting your chin on his shoulder, curving your lips with a sweet smile when Che tilts his head to face you.

You squeeze fondly his arm under your grip when he comes closer to kiss your forehead, caressing with the tip of his nose where his lips have been a second before. Not saying a word, he stands up keeping his gun to safety to offer you his hand and help you to get up. But he doesn't let it go until the two of you approximate his yellow and flawless bike. Putting on the helmets, you wait for him to sit first and turn on the engine to have your place behind him. You feel his abdomen tense up when your arms surround it, until you rest your chin again on his shoulder, looking at you through the rearview mirror to make sure you're well before starting to drive.

Taza doesn't have any rush on the way to the ranch, enjoying the road for the first time in a few months. But as soon as you glance at the place on the horizon, his body gets tense again. You have indeed noticed that lately, he has been staying in the club, instead of going home, and you're starting to believe that it has something to do with Riz and the memories he built there together. And now, you're regretting your petition.

Once the bike is parked and you can jump off from it, you stand closer until Taza does the same taking your helmet next to his to leave both hangings on the handlebar. You follow him to the inside, being surprised for the fact that it's the first time you put a foot in after knowing him for more than three years and having some kind of special connection since then. Imitating him, you take off your jacket to place it on a chair before walking behind him to the back porch —with an amazing view of the desert and the dark sky full of shiny stars.

Taza gently holds your hand, claiming your attention in holy silence, pulling you closer to lie on the hammock. As he places an arm behind your neck and the other over your abdomen, you lace your fingers with his. And neither could wish to be in a better place. He has always found comfort and support in you, hearing him talk during hours about everything and nothing. He has taught you a lot of things too, as his wisdom is incalculable. But sometimes he prefers to stay in silence, just appreciating how good is your company, your closeness, your touch.

Che is watching you sideways looking fascinated at the sky as if it was something new for you. He obtains peace in your innocent smile, calm in your breathing, and for a moment he wants with all his might to ask you to stay, to be eternal with him. The world is a better place with you by his side. But he can't. Taza can't say a single word until you speak first.

“What?” You whisper giggling, turning your head at him.

“Nothing”. He replies with the same low tone, showing you a fleeting sweet smirk.

“Nothing?” You repeat with feigned incredulity, raising both eyebrows as you lie on your side without loosening the tangling of your fingers. “You know I'm here, right?”

“Yeah, I ain't that old to not see you”.

“Pendejo”. You scoff funnily palming his chest, earning a short laugh from him. “You know what I mean, Che”.

As you pout at him, the smile on his lips appears again. Shyly, in a melting gesture that races your heart and makes it jump within your chest.

“I like how you say my name”. He mumbles before you can ask what again, lying on his side too and holding you closer.

Your noses are almost touching the other, you can practically breathe the air from his lung, and you are already lost on his eyes —as a lot of times before, but never having him looking at you likewise. There you find the encouragement to take a step forward and place your lips on his. None of you moves an inch from your bodies, more than closing your eyes, and assimilating what you just have done. But it feels like Taza has been waiting an eternity to kiss you when he finally tastes you by fitting his lips with yours. Gentle and careful gestures that turn into tender smooches, while your right hand travels his chest up through his shoulder, then his neck, till reaching his shaved jawline.

“I don't feel like myself anymore”. Che confesses, still being too close to your lips almost touching them, and not able to open his eyes. “But when I'm with you, everything is different. I feel alive again”.

“Then I'm gonna stay here forever”. You murmur, placing your arms around his neck to get rid of any kind of distance between the two of you.

You feel the relief taking over his anatomy after pronouncing that promise, knowing it's exactly what he wanted and what he needed, but he didn't dare to ask you for. Tossing a leg over his, Taza sinks his face into your chest, accommodating himself under your loving embrace to focus all his senses on your heartbeat as his demons begin to fade away.

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