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bullet-prooflove · 10 months ago

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Stockton!Series Part Six: Times Are Changing - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Bishop Losa & Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardedbarba @adaydreamaway08 @librarian1002 @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae @collegegirl83

Stockton!Series:

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Part Four: Sierra - Marcus takes care of the men who tried to kill you.

Part Five: Maternal - Nestor and you take refuge at a familiar location.

It’s past midnight and Marcus sits alone in Templo. He’s taken the seat at the head of the table, his fingertips flicking through ‘The Good Book’, the one that Marcus had created when he founded the club all those years ago. Their history, their rules, their legacy, it’s all contained within these pages.

It’s been horrible couple of days, for him, for the MC, for his family, because that’s what you are to him, family. His daughter, born of fire and blood, the one that Ramos had tried to murder in her sleep, all over a grudge from something that happened when you were a child. Something you have no knowledge of, that’s he’s determined you’ll never have any knowledge of.

This book it plays a part in that.

As he reads it, he recognises the ramblings of the angry, violent man he used to be. The monster he calls it now, when he talks to Izzy.

He raises his head as Bishop enters through the stained-glass door. In each of his hands he holds a mug of coffee, the real stuff. Marcus would know that aromatic scent anywhere, it’s the same brand he keeps in his house. He sets one of the mugs in front of Marcus before he takes up residence in the V.P’s seat.

“Hell of a day.” Bishop says rubbing his hands over his weary features.

“Yea.” Marcus says as he picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. “I’m just hoping they got the message otherwise things are about to get real fucked up.”

“Stockton was already fucked up. Things will change now Ramos is gone.” Bishop assures the other man. “Smokey’s tough, he’ll rein them in and the ones that don’t fall into line…I won’t shed any tears for them.”

Marcus shakes his head.

“I won’t either.”

There’s silence between the two of them for a moment, each man lost in his own thoughts. It shouldn’t have come down to this, they should have dealt with this problem long before Ramos had ever laid eyes on you.

“I haven’t seen that for a while.” Bishop utters, gesturing towards the book.

Marcus sighs heavily.

“Probably for good reason.” Marcus says before he turns the book towards Bishop.

The other man studies the words before shaking his head.

“It was a different time back then.” Bishop says, removing the cigarettes from inside of his kutte. He taps the box upon the table before removing one and placing it between his lips.

“We talk about women as if their property, something to be owned, to be traded when we get tired of them.” Marcus jabs his finger at the paper. “This book tells us their only good for sex or serving, it doesn’t talk about love or respect. Is it any wonder that charters like Stockton act the way they do when these are the values, we’ve instilled in them?”

Bishop lights up his cigarette, he takes a drag.

“The world is changing El Padrino. We have to adapt.” Bishop says as he taps the ash off the end of cigarette. “We care about our women here; we cherish them but other charters… It needs to be a message that goes out across the club. What happened the other day can’t be allowed to happen again, not to anyone. There needs to be repercussions for that type of shit.”

Marcus nods his agreement, his hands wrapping the mug.

“I’m proud of that you’ve done here primo, legitimising the MC, supporting the community.” He tells Bishop earnestly. “This charter’s become more than I could have dreamed of.”

“And all it took was for me to pull my head out of my ass.” Bishop remarks before he takes another drag on the cigarette as he watches Marcus withdraw an A6 notebook from the interior pocket of his kutte. He pushes it towards the other man with his fingertips.

“This is what I’ve put together, a revised edition of the by-laws.” Marcus tells Bishop before he drains the rest of his coffee.

Bishop reviews the changes before tapping his fingertip upon the paper and raising his eyes to meet Marcus’s.

“We need to talk about Taza.”

Marcus clasps his hands together, his lips pursing into a grim line.

“We have to lead by example El Padrino,” Bishop tells him, his voice gruff as he stubs out his cigarette. “He has suffered for so long under the weight of this secret, putting the club before himself over and over again. I can’t help but wonder how many other Tazas are out there, how many other brothers are struggling with something just like this and what happens to the ones that aren’t as strong as him.”

Marcus knows what he’s talking about, the suicides that leave no notes, the members that are quietly taken care of for an infraction that can’t be discussed.

“We have to do better.” Bishop tells him, picking up the cigarette box and tapping it upon the surface of the table. “Every single one of us deserves to love who we love and not be punished for it.”

“You’re right.” Marcus says finally, picking up his pen and adding the amendment. “I’ll get this drawn up and sent out to the other charters.”

Marcus raises to his feet, tucking the notebook back into his kutte. His hand comes to rest upon Bishop’s shoulder, clasping it tightly.

“You’ve been leading the way for a while now, primo. It’s time for the other charters to get in line and follow.”

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broiderie · 10 months ago

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Meet the Reaper 25

Alrighty. Here's the next bit. Another bit of filler, but it also gives a little more information on how the club has planned to take care of Megan in everything they can.

Do not copy or steal my work. This is the only place it's posted. Do not translate my work. Please DO reblog it. Our fandom is still active, but we're quiet. Let's make them a little less so.

Warnings: slight suggestive material. I don't remember cursing in here but I probably did. More foreshadowing, but it's my favorite literary device so you might as well get used to it.

OH! I also have a poll up about Mayans villains. Go check it out.

Back at the clubhouse, Megan grinned as she saw Tía Diana and Tessa waiting on the porch. Marcus laughed as he dismounted his bike, only to discover Tessa was headed for the Mustang to meet her prima. Taza grinned too. “We’re chopped liver as long as the princessas are together, Padrino.”

He smiled as Diana came to greet him with a kiss. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way, Brother.”

They spent a low key night in the clubhouse watching -mostly- kid safe movies. Megan and Tessa curled together on a couch with snacks as the men unwound by playing pool or just hanging out. By the time Diana and Marcus were ready to head back to Bishop’s for the night, the girls were fast asleep, curled together like puppies with Rex.

Hank chuckled and pulled out his phone to snap a picture. “That’s another one for her wall…”

Taza grinned. “I agree, ‘mano.” He looked to Marcus. “You sure you want to wake her? She could stay at the ranch for the night and give you two a night to yourself.”

Diana smiled. “Sorry, Taza. We’re going to head out early. Tessa has missed enough school already.”

He shrugged and grinned. “Well - I tried.”

Marcus chuckled a bit. “And we appreciate the thought,” he said before moving to gently wake Tessa.

As soon as Tessa moved when Marcus shook her gently, Megan’s eyes popped open and she was reaching for her holster.

“Easy, Poquito. Just me,” he soothed. “Time for Tessa and Diana to head out.”

Megan blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes and then relaxed. “Sorry Tío. Habit.”

He smiled and smoothed a hand over her hair. “You’re okay Bebita.” He tried again to wake Tessa only to be greeted by a whine as she buried her face in Megan’s hoody on her good side more.

Bishop laughed around the cigar he was smoking. “Looks like she’s officially out for the count, Primo.”

Megan smiled ruefully and squeezed her cousin a little tighter for a moment. “Are you guys leaving in the morning, Tía?” she asked without looking up.

“Sí. Time for the tiny princessa to go back to school.” Diana leaned over the back of the couch to press a kiss to the back of Megan’s head. “We’ll call from the road so that you two can make plans, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled sleepily up at her aunt. “Be safe.”

Marcus scooped Tessa up and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Poquito,” he promised as they headed out the door.

Chibs smiled at Megan from his barstool. “I do believe tha’s my que too, Princess. We’ll head back tomorrow too - but not early.” Tig and Venus had already slipped out earlier in the night. He stood and came to offer Megan a smile. “See ya tomorrow, Lass.”

“Night. Ride safe, Chibs.”

Back at the ranch after showers all around, they gathered in the living room to decompress a bit more. Hank had Megan sitting between his knees so that he could brush her hair out for her before bed while Taza relaxed in the recliner.

“That was a good catch today, Chica. What gave them away?” Taza asked.

Megan shrugged as well as she could. “They were just too interested in us to be bystanders. We always draw attention, but not like that. And then the lady showed up on that balcony and it didn’t feel right. I figured being the bubbly tourist was the safest bet. Worst case - they were L.O. and Adelita would laugh at me.”

Hank pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Either way, it was brilliant. Now - we just need to figure out who they actually were.”

Taza sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Most likely they were either feds or they belong to Galindo. Either one would have reason to have us followed.”

“If they were Galindo’s, they weren’t any that Luisa recognized,” Megan supplied. “She didn’t know their faces.”

“Most likely feds then. We’ll have to be extra careful about tails while Galindo is tied to them,” Hank mused as he continued to run the brush through Megan’s dark hair. “And you -” he tugged he head back to look at him. “You never carry contraband. Never. Don’t even touch it.” He kissed her forehead. “The rest of us can handle it.”

Taza nodded in agreement. “And if we’re ever caught - you know nothing about what we do. You play dumb. We’re just a M.C. Women in our world are never given details so they likely won’t think you have any. As far as the feds are concerned - you’re a cute mascot.”

Megan grimaced, but nodded. “I understand, Papa.”

“Good.” Hank looked at Taza. “And if we are caught and she’s with us - the lawyers go to Megan first. I don’t care how many of us are caught. We would have each other’s backs inside. She’d be alone.”

Taza nodded again. “That instruction has already been given, brother. Bishop and I handled it with the lawyers the other day.”

“And on that cheerful note - Bedtime,” Hank joked. “C’mon mi princessa. You’ve had a long day. Let’s go to bed.

Megan smiled and stood to go claim a cuddle from Taza. “Night Papa.”

“Sweet dreams, Sweet Chica. Maybe in the morning we can make sure your saddle fits like it should. You can’t ride, but we can fit it at least.” He kissed her forehead softly and smiled at the excited little noise that Megan gave.

Once in the bedroom with Rex in his dog bed, Hank watched Megan carefully for signs of pain. “How was it today, mi reina? I’m sorry I didn’t think to send your meds with Taza.”

Megan put her hair brush down on her dressing table and smiled at him in the mirror. “I was okay. The pain wasn’t anything like before when I wasn’t taking the pain relief.” She turned and moved to stand between his knees where he was perched on his footlocker at the end of the bed.

His hands automatically went to her waist where he could slip his thumbs under her sleep shirt to stroke her skin. “I’m glad. I worried all day, but Bishop said Taza would call if you needed them. We didn’t want to interrupt your fun if you really were alright.” He smiled. “Did you enjoy the fair?”

“We had lots of fun with the games. Papa won me a duckie. He’s in the car.”

Hank laughed. “He said you kicked ass at the shooting games though.”

Megan grinned at him and bit her bottom lip. “Maybe a little. There are more prizes with the duck in the trunk.”

He kissed her softly. “That’s mi reina.” He moved her back gently so that he could pull off his shirt and crawl into bed so that she could snuggle back against his chest the way she liked. Once they were settled he frowned a little. “I wish I could have gone to the rodeo with you. Taza said it was eye opening for him. I can only imagine what it would be like for me. I’ve never even been on a horse, let alone rode in anything like that.”

She looked up at him over her shoulder. “Really? Never?”

“Not in my memory. You’ll have to teach me to ride if you want me to go with you on the horses.”

She smiled a little and yawned as she snuggled closer. He draped his arm over her waist to hold her good hand and cradled her as close as he could. “I can do that. You’d do well with Trucker, I think. He’s big enough for you. And Papa says he’s steady. He didn’t even spook when he met Rex the first time. I think you’ll be okay on him.”

Hank chuckled. “Which one do you think you’ll ride most?” he asked curiously.

“Papa says Rocket. He’s the fastest. Sugar is sweet, but she’s slow and a little lazy. And Trucker and I would be okay, but with his size I’d look like an ant riding an elephant. He’s too wide for me to ride for any real length of time properly.” She closed her eyes and Hank moved to turn off the lamp that was their only light before settling back in to hold her. Megan yawned again. “Papa also said something about buying me a cutting horse to compete again. It might be fun to finally have my very own horse… To know that it was mine…”

Hank smiled as he listened to her drift off before he closed his eyes to join her.

The next morning, Hank woke up as Megan tried to sneak out of bed. Just before she got to the edge of the bed, he grabbed her gently and pulled her back in close. “Morning, Princessa. Where you going?” he asked with a rumble.

Megan jumped a little and giggled as she realized what was happening. She relaxed back into his bare chest easily. “Morning, Baby. I was going to TRY to get breakfast ready before you woke up.”

He smiled and nuzzled her neck, placing kisses on her skin. “Mmm but I like making breakfast with you.” His hands wandered a little, stroking the skin of her abdomen and hips.

“Mm. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to spoil you once in a while.” She melted, enjoying the feeling of his mouth and calloused hands on her skin. She pressed her hips back against his with a tiny whine.

He grinned and nibbled gently at the hinge of her jaw. “This is spoiling me, mi reina. How’s your pain level this morning?”

She shivered pleasantly and pressed entirely against him, feeling him hardening the more she wriggled. “A little achy, but not bad. I really think I could drop the sling…”

He pressed his whole hand below her navel with a chuckle. “Easy, Princessa. Don’t start that unless you want teased back.” He laughed again at the whine she let out. “Let me see if we can get you in to the doctor in Santa Madre today. You may be right about the sling.”

They both looked up as Taza knocked on the door frame of the cracked open door. “What might she be right about?”

“Good morning, Papa,” Megan said with a smile. “I was telling Hank that I think I’d be okay without the sling.”

Taza stepped inside and frowned. “You shouldn’t push yourself, Chica…”

“I know, Papa, but the pain is so much better without the cast. I went all day without pain relief yesterday and I’m not really hurting this morning either.” She smiled and wiggled until Hank released her so that she could sit up.

Hank pushed himself up to sit against the headboard and hastily arranged the blankets before he smiled. “I told her that we’d get the doc’s opinion in Santa Madre with an x-ray.”

“They said three weeks at the hospital and the Rez doctor said you weren’t healed enough to be without the sling yet…” Taza fretted.

“That was with the plaster cast, though. The soft cast is so much lighter and without my muscles spasming like they were I’ve felt so much better…”

Hank smiled as he watched Megan weedle her father. “An x-ray with the doc won’t do any harm, Taz. If she needs to stay in the sling, then she stays in the sling. But you know it’s driving her batshit.”

Taza winced. “Fine. Make the call.” He moved to sit in Megan’s reading chair. “You call. I’ll help Megan if she needs it.”

Hank smiled and nodded before pressing a kiss to the back of Megan’s head and going to the living room for his burner phone.

Megan smiled. “Can you braid my hair for me, Papa? I can get dressed after.”

“Of course, Chica. What are we doing today?”

A short while later, Taza and Megan exited the bedroom to find Hank sitting at the table on the phone. He was speaking Spanish as he absently rubbed Rex’s ears.

Without pausing, Megan pressed a kiss to his still sleep ruffled hair and went to the stove to start the coffee. Taza leaned in the doorway and watched as he held in a chuckle. Megan’s back was to Hank so she didn’t catch the double take he gave or notice him lose track of the conversation since it was in Spanish.

Taza had braided Megan’s hair into her tight warrior braids and then sat back as she fussed a bit over what to wear. Eventually, she’d settled on a white racerback tank top and her light washed skinny jeans that looked like the distressing machine had gone completely apeshit on them. She was completely covered, but it was also tighter than she normally wore. She had all plans of putting her leather jacket under her kutte the way Chibs did before they left the house.

Taza gave Hank a moment to allow his brain to reboot before he joined him at the table and jokingly threw a napkin in front of his brother. Hank shot him a glare before quickly wrapping up his call. He cleared his throat a bit. “All ready, Princessa?”

Megan finished setting up the percolator and turned to smile at them. “Yeah. Were you able to get an appointment.

The men looked at each other and chuckled. “We don’t need an appointment, Chica. We just needed to be sure the doctor would be in town. He sometimes has out of town deliveries to make,” Taza explained.

Hank grinned. “But, yes, mi amore, I got in touch. He’s in town today and we can see him whenever.”

“Oh good. I really want my arm back.”

Taza smiled. “We know, but you still will be limited with the soft cast.”

“But without the sling I can ride with y’all again. Or even drive my car.” She grinned. “And I can go back to work at the bar.”

Hank shook his head, grinning ruefully. “True enough, mi reina.” He stood. “I’ll go get dressed.” He winked at her. “Looks like we’re going South today.”

Taza and Megan made a quick breakfast og burritos while Hank changed. By the time they were all done eating, all three of their phones went off. Megan was closest and checked hers. “Templo tonight. Angel and EZ are headed South today too, so we’ll meet for an update after that. Also - Tía Diana left a text to say that they started back before sunrise this morning.”

Taza paused from loading the dishwasher and grabbed his. “The Scot says they’re leaving in about an hour. Want to stop by the clubhouse and say goodbye, Chica?”

“Yes, please. That means Venus is leaving too,” she said with a smile.

They gathered their gear and donned their kuttes before heading out to meet everyone at the clubhouse.

Hank kept a close eye on Megan on the way over, to see if she was having any anxiety over so many people leaving. She seemed to be calm and collected, but he kept a hand on her knee when he wasn’t shifting gears just in case.

Angel was the one who rolled open the gate for them to the clubhouse, but by the look of the pit - everyone was there. The Sons were standing on the porch in what looked like last discussions of plans with Bishop and Marcus. Once they got parked, Hank came around to open Megan’s door for her so that she and Rex could get out. He started towards the porch, but realized that Megan seemed to be lingering by the car as she fussed with Rex’s harness.

“All good, mi princessa?” he asked quietly.

Megan shot him a smile. “All good. Just don’t want to interrupt business…”

Hank grinned as Taza joined them. “Mi reina - you’re an officer. No business that you don’t know about.” Taza smiled too as realization passed over Megan’s face and she looked a bit sheepish.

“Ooops. I keep forgetting,” she grinned.

Taza laughed. “You’ll get there, Chica. C’mon. I know you want to say goodbye to Venus.”

They joined the group just as they stepped off the stairs.

“Well, good morning to you, Little Bit. Come to see us off?” Tig asked, ginning at her as his eyes lingered a little too long on her tight jeans that were just brushing the tops of her biker boots.

Venus smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand before turning her own attention to Megan. “Good morning, Sweetheart. Feeling alright?” she asked, stepping forward for a hug.

Megan hugged the tall woman back. “Good morning. I’m fine. Not hurting as much. We’re actually going to see a doctor today about maybe being able to drop the sling.”

“Oh good. You let me know what they say. We’ll be on the bike, but I’ll text at rest stops.” She pulled back to smile at the younger woman and straightened the girl’s necklace for her.

“I will. I’ll miss you,” Megan said quietly.

“Psh. I’m only a phone call away. Call me anytime and I’ll start driving, Honey.”

Megan hugged her again. “Ride safe and say hello to Happy for me.” She grinned at Tig over Venus’s shoulder. “And you need to stop being lazy in the ring. It’s just making it harder on you.”

Tig laughed. “Oh. She bites this morning. When you’re all healed up, we’ll see who’s lazy in the ring.”

Chibs stepped forward. “It’ll still be you, Tiggy,” he drawled with a wink at Megan. “This lass’ll be a proper fighter.” He offered Megan a hug which she took. “We’ll be down in style for tha’ big party soon enough. Keep ya’self safe til’ then, alrigh’?”

Megan squeezed him around the middle gently. “I’ll be alright. Ride safe, Chibs.”

“You too, Lass.”

With a few final goodbyes, SAMCRO mouthed their bikes and headed back North.

Taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

#lost princessa #mayans mc #meet the reaper #taza x daughter!oc #lost princessa sequel #che taza romero #hank loza #megan(oc) x hank #mayans mc fanfic #marcus alvarez #bishop losa #chibs telford #tig trager #venus van dam #mayans mc imagine #mayans fx #mayans imagine #mayans #mayansmc

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maibeewrites · 11 months ago

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handle your own when you become a man //

a Marcus Alvarez x female!OC fanfiction

summary:

Veronica could always defend herself, always keep a straight face.

Until one day, when she has to do something that makes even herself question, what was she made for.

part I Bigger dog

"Everybody, calm it!" said Jax for the fourth time with an angry expression. Everyone held everyone at gunpoint. The deal with the Mayans went south. The Sons were all in Mayan grounds, they were surrounded.

They came to convince Alvarez to let them sell a shipment of guns near Oakland. Needless to say, El Padrino wasn't too happy about them arming up his streets.

But the Irish were pushing hard on the Sons and they needed to find a buyer ASAP. The Niners didn't buy it. They were deep in shit. A street gang in Oakland was offering just enough money for them to cover the Kings and make some profit for themselves. It would been the perfect situation, only for them weren't on enemy territory.

"It is a one time deal. You get a percentage too." Jax added.

Alvarez laughed. "You white boy you tripping on some shit if you think I will let you sell here."

"At least can we talk through this without pointing the guns?" Veronica said quietly and gestured around with her free hand.

Alvarez shook his head, and signalled to his men to lower their guns.

"Thank you" nodded Jax. The mexican did the same.

"Please Marcus, if we weren't in this situation, we wouldn't ask you something like this. And have another offer." Jax gestured to Veronica to continue.

So this was the part when she had to step in. She found herself in this situation because of a debt. She had to borrow once some money from SAMCRO, and they agreed that instead of fully paying it back in cash, she did something for them.

Her gig was a high end beauty store in the outskirts of Stockton. She imported MAC lipsticks and Uzis. Dior powders and metamphetamine. What was in season. That was her shit.

"If you let them sell this shipment now, I will pay you an allowance in the next three months, Papi. A percentage of sales. The higher the sales, the more money you get" said Veronica and crossed her arms. This was her deal with Jax, this is how she was gonna pay off the rest of her debt.

"What's your business have to do with this?" Alvarez asked.

"Oh, I'm just happy to help out my friends, you know. It's good for business you know if you have powerful relationships with powerful people" said Veronica with a smirk on her face.

Alvarez and her had already crossed ways in multiple occasions. Everybody in that area who dwelt in illegal businesses knew her. She immigrated from Eastern Europe when she was a minor. As an orphan, she quickly had to fend for herself in order to survive in this climate. She was the diva, a woman in power, who was not involved in porn or prostitution, but instead, in their trade. She was a curiosity nonetheless.

Plus Veronica was young and pretty. She had long dirty blonde hair, which she always wore wavy, and big blue eyes which stared so intensely into everyones' eyes. She was tall, almost the same height as Alvarez. She was athletic but very curvy at the right places, and slim where she needed to be. She was always told when she was a kid that she was "big boned". In the California sun, her skin was a bit more tan that originally, but still, she was a light shade of cream.

Overall, she looked beautiful. But her beauty was always overshadowed by who she was. She always wore combat boots, leather or cargo pants, utilitarian clothing, jackets, denim. She almost carried herself like a man sometimes, but she still had that feminine softness in her. The way she spoke, she was wise, determined and playful at the same time.

Of course she caught Marcus Alvarez's eye. It was always his fantasy to absolutely hatefuck the shit out of that smartass blanca. To make her cry and make her beg for it. He was curious, what else she could do with that pretty, pouty mouth besides playing tough.

"Jax, how much do you need this deal?" asked Alvarez.

"I think I aleardy layed it out for you. I need this" replied Jax with a stern voice. "Ask anything else, I give it to you"

Alvarez was thinking for a second.

"Alright. I let you sell it. You give my my 100 grand. And the percentage for her sales."

"Thank you, ese" Jax said and he couldn't hide his relief.

"There is one more thing, you." Alvarez said straight to Veronica.

The woman raised her brows.

"Me? Yes?"

"No, I mean I want you. For one night." Marcus looked her in the eyes.

Veronica got really confused at first, then it dawned on her.

"What?" The question left her lips so silently that even Jax could barely understand.

The air froze and everyone stared at her.

She rarely felt anxious. The feeling of anxiety was only familiar to her from memories. When she was in fifth grade, and in the winter, the boys would come and drag the most pretty and popular girls in the snow, kicking snow in their faces and ruining their clothes. She always hated that. Her stomach sank every time when recess came. How the boys cornered her and dragged her out in the snow.

But now, she felt the anxiety. A flash of cold washed over her.

"What?" she asked, but the question felt like it wasn't even aimed at Alvarez in particular. It was aimed at everyone. Did she really need to do this for the Sons?

"Chill out, ninita. You spend a night with me. A whole night" said Alvarez with a smirk on his face.

"You a funny man" Veronica said, and now her anxiety slowly turned to anger.

"Easy now" intervened Jax. He pulled Veronica to the side.

"Listen, I don't want this to be this way. But you have to say yes. As much as I know that this is wrong. Please" Jax looked at her with pleading eyes. "They will kill my family if we don't get a buyer" he spoke the last sentence almost as a whisper.

Veronica felt sorry for Jax, but at the same time wanted to laugh him and everyone in the face. What is she? What is she in the eyes of these men?

Really, a night with her?

It didn't take much thought to figure out what were Alvarez's intentions. She always could tell if someone wanted her.

She always put people into four categories: the ones with mutual attraction, even if it was platonic, the ones with no attraction, and the ones who either were attracted to her, but she wasn't to them, and the ones with the opposite.

Marcus Alvarez was in the first category. She found the man good-looking, but this didn't help the situation, that he demanded a night with her, so he could use her as he will. No one does this to her. No one touches her without her consent.

And now she had to give consent. The Mayans were snickering, the Sons stared at them and at their leader with rage. But they had to stay quiet, she was doing this for them.

"Okay. Tell me where to go and when." said Veronica finally, completely defeated.

"Just be ready tonight by 9. I will pick you up at your house" said Alvarez "now go, get the fuck out of my crib."

Jax ushered the Sons out. Veronica only looked straight ahead, pretending to not see the concerned stares.

"Oh, and wear a dress, look pretty" added Alvarez as he turned his back on Veronica.

#marcus alvarez #marcus alvarez x reader #marcus alvarez x y/n #marcus alvarez headcanon #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy #mayans fanfic #mayans mc

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drabbles-mc · 2 years ago

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Get Some Rest

Marcus Alvarez x F!Reader

For Day 2 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: stress/insomnia/"get some rest"

Warnings: 18+, language, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of scars

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I personally think it's a crime and a travesty that there aren't more Marcus Alvarez fics out there. So I'm creating the content I want to see.

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @anditsmywholeheart @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @adalanta (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You weren’t quite sure what it was that pulled you from your sleep. Opening your eyes, you were met with a room that was almost completely pitch black. The faintest hint of light was bleeding in through the curtains that covered the bedroom window. The streetlamp outside didn’t throw much light to begin with, so there was barely a shadow of a difference.

All you were able to see were the outlines of things, different shades of black. Even so, you could still feel that something was off. You couldn’t see his face to be sure, but you had the feeling that Marcus was awake in the bed beside you. His breathing was even, and he was lying perfectly still, but you could feel a certain type of energy radiating off of him. You never really saw him sleeping these days. You were always falling asleep before him, and he was always waking up before you. In that moment, though, you were wondering if he ever actually fell asleep at all.

“Marcus?” your voice was so quiet it almost didn’t even qualify as a whisper.

The swiftness of his response reinforced your concern that he had yet to fall asleep. “Mhm?” he mumbled softly.

You rolled onto your side so that you were facing him. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t make out the details of his face, or him yours. You still looked at him and even though you wouldn’t quite prove it, you knew that he was looking at you too.

“It’s late,” you said gently, reaching forward and resting one hand on his chest. “You should get some sleep.”

“I will,” he reassured you, and you could hear the faint rustling of his pillowcase that let you know he was nodding his head to reinforce his point.

You traced your thumb along the skin just below his collarbone, the space left exposed by the tank top that he’d worn to bed. “You should get some sleep tonight,” you emphasized your point.

It got a tired chuckle out of him as he brought his hand up and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I will,” he repeated, “I promise.”

Part of you wanted to turn the light on so that you could see his face, try to gauge what he was thinking. It was so hard to read him when you couldn’t really look into his eyes. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?” you asked, your voice still soft with worry.

He knew that you were going to worry about him no matter what, but he didn’t want to make it worse if he could help it. He sighed as he traced his thumb along the ring that was wrapped around your finger. “Here and there.”

“Marcus…” your voice trailed off.

“I know, I know.” He closed the distance between you and gently kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there for a few extra moments as he said, “It’s gonna get better soon.”

You let out a quiet sigh and leaned into him a little more, causing his lips to press against your forehead again. “For your sake, baby, I hope you’re right.”

He let out something akin to a hum as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body up against his. “We both know it’s gonna take more than a couple of late nights to put me out, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at him even though he couldn’t see it. “Don’t think you need to be pushing your luck, though.”

His hand slowly traced up and down your back. “What would I do if I wasn’t doing that?”

“Getting a full night’s rest, for starters,” you quipped back with no hesitation.

Your quick reply got a small chuckle out of him. He shook his head but neither of you said anything else for a few minutes. You focused on the slow, methodical way his hand roamed up and down your back. Meanwhile, Marcus couldn’t help but notice the way that your fingertips seemed to be seeking out all of his scars. Sometimes he wondered if you even knew that you were doing it, or if it was just that second-nature to you now. He knew that getting rest wasn’t the only thing on your mind when you thought about what his life, what your life together, would look like when things calmed down.

It was a matter of when, even though some days it felt more like if. He tried to keep reminding you of that, tried to keep reminding himself, too.

Another minute went by and then you felt him pulling away from you. You reached out to stop him, but then you realized that he was reaching for the lamp on his side of the bed. The distinct sound of the chain for the light filled the room, and then his side of the bed was covered in a soft, warm light.

With the light behind him, part of Marcus’s face was still cast in shadow. But you could still see the exhaustion in his face, the stress in his brows.

You were going to ask him what was wrong, but he beat you to the punch. “Talk to me.”

You exhaled through your nose, a short, crude version of a laugh—it was all your body could muster given the circumstances. Shaking your head, you said, “I worry about you.”

He nodded as he got himself into a more upright position. He moved so that his back was against the headboard, blanket still draped over his lap. Holding out one arm, he wordlessly asked you to come lay against him. So you did, situating yourself so that you were laying with your head against him, your arm draped over his middle.

He watched as you settled and got comfortable. “You always worry.”

You hummed in agreement, your eyes focused on your hand that was entwined with his. “You always give me reasons to.”

He chuckled quietly. Your tone wasn’t accusatory—it hardly ever was. It was half the reason the two of you could talk like this.

“What’s different this time, hm?” he asked.

You shrugged against him as you toyed with his wedding band. “I don’t know. Nothing, really.” You paused and looked up at him. “Is something different?”

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “It’s always the same shit.”

That got a more honest laugh out of you because you knew he was right. It was quiet between you again for a moment before you asked, “You ever think, sometimes, that we’re getting too old for the same shit?”

Much to your surprise, there was no hesitation in his response as he nodded. “Sometimes.” He moved his hand so that it was going up and down your back again. “But I’ve been thinking that for—”

“A long fuckin’ time,” you both said simultaneously. Both of you chuckled after the fact, too.

“That’s true,” you conceded.

He could hear the slight shift in your voice. “What are you thinking, huh?”

You pulled yourself a little tighter to him. “I’m thinking I’m going to start putting melatonin in your drink at dinner if you don’t start getting some sleep.”

He chuckled, leaning and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s gonna get better. Always does.”

You bit back a yawn. “I know. But it’s my job to worry anyway.”

He could feel the way you were starting to melt against him, sleep coming easy for you in a way it never had for him. “I know.”

“I love you,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt.

His hand stopped moving as he said, “I love you too.”

Seemingly unperturbed by the warm light coming from the lamp, it wasn’t long until you had fallen back to sleep. Your arm was still slung across Marcus’s stomach, his still wrapped around you. He was no closer to falling asleep than he had been before, but at least now he had you to look at.

#whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday2 #stress #insomnia #get some rest #marcus alvarez #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #soa #sons of anarchy #marcus alvarez x you #marcus alvarez x reader #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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garbinge · 2 years ago

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Commission Job

Nestor Oceteva x F!Galindo!Reader

Day 19 from these April Prompts: A Commission Job

Summary: Part 2 to Minimum Wage, but can be read as a standalone. After Miguel orders a hit on Nestor, he comes crashing at your doorstep.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Angsty af. Mentions of blood, killing, death, murder, all canon level thangggs ya know.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @narcolini @justreblogginfics

Part 1

You wished you ignored the doorbell and the persistent knocking. That was the lie you were telling yourself as the two parts of your brain argued against each other on what to do with the disheveled man at your doorstep. The part of you who had been living in this small town under a new name with no ties to your old life was fighting with the other part of your brain that hadn’t been functional in years… the Galindo in you.

The initial shock of seeing Nestor bruised and bloody on your doorstep was gone in seconds. You didn’t ask questions, you just brought him inside and into the coat closet.

“Wrong house!” You called out to the company you had over that was currently in the kitchen halfway through dinner as you shoved Nestor into the closet and shut the door. He didn’t say anything either, he just followed your suit.

“You know, I’m not feeling so hot.” You made your way back to your kitchen bar and made a scrunched up face. “Getting up made me realize I’m feeling kind of blah.” You were easily falling into the lie, your Galindo traits rising back up from the ashes.

Your date was making their way down the hallway, disappointment all over their face as they did whatever they could to change your mind. Little did they know that the half broken man in your closet was not going to make that happen.

After your company left you moved immediately to the closet and opened the door to see Nestor sitting on the cubbies you had as storage.

“You think you can make it to the bathroom? It’s upstairs.” You would ask questions later, but right now you were prioritizing.

“Yea.” His voice was rough and more raspy than normal but it brought your heart up to your throat. Seeing him caused you to go into reaction mode but hearing him speak for the first time caused you to want to throw up.

You brought your arm around his torso and his arm instinctually went around your shoulder as you trudged upstairs. Luckily, it wasn’t many steps before you were in the bathroom. It was obvious that he wasn’t putting all his weight on you but once he was seated on the closed lid toilet you could see his body collapsed in exhaustion.

Black eye, deep scratch over his cheek bone, probably some broken ribs from the way he was limping. That was the bulk of the damage you were able to clock by looking at him. With a deep breath you opened the cabinets below the sink and pulled out the first aid kit.

“I’m gonna need you to lift your shirt up.”

Nestor obliged, it was then that you realized he wasn’t in his normal outfit of a button up and slacks but a t-shirt and jeans. You frowned but quickly moved to look at the bruising and cuts on his abdomen.

“Great, more open wounds.” You mumbled as you bent down to clean up the dried blood around the cuts. You both sat in silence for a while as you cleaned up the cuts and gave Nestor a cold washcloth to hold against the bruising until you could go downstairs and grab an ice pack.

“You need stitches.” You pointed to his face as you sat on the edge of your tub. “I don’t have the tools for that but I can give you a butterfly bandage.” Your voice was monotone as you spoke.

“That’s fine.” His voice still deep and raspy.

With a nod you were leaning over him and grabbing the bandage from the kit and applying it to his face. His breath was hot against your face as you got close to adjust the open cut with the bandage. Quick to move back you looked back down at his ribs.

“Let me get you an ice pack.”

Before he could say anything you were up and out of the bathroom and picking up your pace down the stairs. It was an opportunity to truly ask yourself what the fuck was happening. It had been years since you saw Nestor. Suddenly everything was hitting you. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? Who beat him up this bad? Why didn’t he go to Miguel? Did Miguel know where you were?

It was overwhelming to say the least, you started to get angry but then you thought about Nestor’s helpless being upstairs and it disappeared instantly. The only way you knew you were going to get answers was to ask him, and if things were even remotely the same as they were years ago, you knew that wasn’t a guarantee either, but you had to try.

As you walked back to the bathroom you saw Nestor struggling to stand up.

“Woah, what are you–” Your feet moved quickly on the bathroom tile and before you could finish your statement he was collapsing into your arms taking the wind out of you. “C’mon, sit back down.” A large groan came from the both of you as you took on his full body weight now and attempted to place him back down on the toilet. The pain from his injuries and your shitty attempt to placing him carefully back down causing him to react in agony.

“Take this.” The medicine cabinet was opening as you shuffled through your things and pulled out an old prescription of some pain medicine. You handed him two pills and filled up a dixie cup with water after he tossed them in his mouth.

You stared down at him, your mind finding itself back in that same place it was downstairs.

“I need something.”

Those were the words you decided to lead with. Not what the fuck is happening. Not what the fuck is going on. No. You decided that you’d go into this the way you knew worked best with Nestor. Meeting him at his own place of comfort. It wasn’t fair, he came to your house, which was still unclear how, but he was the one barely able to stand in your bathroom right now so, sure, you’d give him a break.

“Mikey has a hit out on me.”

Now you were the one barely able to stand. You stabled yourself by gripping the bathroom counter.

“Come again?” You frowned. It was shocking to hear Nestor so easily give up information and to hear THAT information was cause enough for you to feel like you were going to throw up.

“Your brother hired someone to kill me. A commissioned job.” He said it again, this time more explanatory and it only made your stomach pit tighten more.

“Wh– Uh– How?” You started to stutter, you weren’t able to take in that information. You prided yourself on your ability to take in all sorts of information, coming from the Galindo family where your father and brother lied and killed and manipulated, nothing came as a shock to you. For God’s sakes the braided man in front of you knocked on your door, that he shouldn’t have known about, bloodied and bruised and you brought him in with no words or question. But this? This was unexpected.

“Your mom. She’s dead. He, uh, isn’t doing too good. He killed Paco. Right in front of me. In front of Marcus.” Nestor’s voice was rattled. It was how you knew that this wasn’t a normal situation, not that Nestor telling you your brother put a hit on him was normal but you were searching for anything right now.

“Marcus?” You questioned completely ignoring the part about your mother, your voice just as rattled as his.

“Consejero.” Nestor let out a deep breath as he remembered you had no idea about anything.

“Nestor, what the fuck is going on.” The rattled tone changed to desperate and before he answered you heard a knock at your door. It was firm and loud, and it matched your heart beat.

Nestor was standing up like none of his injuries existed, if you were thinking logically, you would have chalked it up to adrenaline but right now you just felt your whole life crashing down on you.

So many thoughts in such little time. You didn’t ask for this. Nestor came to your doorstep and now you were dealing with the aftermath of that. You’d kill Miguel. Galindo habits die hard, but your will to protect yourself from them would go down harder. Nestor was quick to grab the gun from under the bathroom sink that he probably clocked earlier but like you said, Galindo habits die hard and he knew you probably had one stored in each room of the house.

He was making his way down the stairs, way faster than when he arrived. He peaked through the peep hole and immediately his shoulders relaxed and he opened the door, quick to fall back on the steps.

Now, there was a stoic tall man in a button up t-shirt and slacks standing in your foyer as Nestor laid collapsed on the bottom step and you at the very top staring down to both men.

“Marcus.” Nestor pointed to Marcus in his way of introducing you.

“I’d say nice to meet you but this is fucked.” You made your way down the stairs to grab the gun from Nestor and situate him in a better position. “I’ll be taking this for now.” You put the safety back on and placed the gun in your back waistband before picking Nestor up against the wall. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on and how the fuck you knew where I was?” It was essentially two questions, one was pointed at Marcus and one was pointed at Nestor.

“I’m sorry to barge into your home like this.” Marcus said like it was the beginning to an explanation but just looked at Nestor to respond.

“She knows.” Nestor breathed out the two words.

Marcus nodded. “Well then, you know everything we do.”

You raised your eyebrows and let out a laugh. “Respectfully, I think the fuck I don’t.”

Marcus was glaring at Nestor again, not wanting to get anymore involved in this than he already was.

“I knew where you were, found you a few months after you left. Never told Miguel.” Nestor’s eyes were closed as his chest raised and fell with his deep breaths.

You were speechless which was Nestor’s invitation to keep talking.

“I got attacked. Your brother, ordered the hit on me. He’s pissed about your mom.”

Your mom. When Nestor mentioned it before it slipped out of your mind over the thought that your brother ordered a hit on his best friend.

“She was murdered. Not sure by who but he blames us all. I got away, laid low, told Marcus to meet me here.”

“How do I know you weren’t followed.” You snapped your head to look at Marcus who was still standing stoic in your entryway.

“I wasn’t.” His voice was steady. You believed him, there wasn’t anything you could do if you didn’t but the way he was handling this right now was better than you expected from someone you’d never met.

You sat in the silence for a minute, taking everything in before shaking it all off, letting the Galindo fall right back into place.

“So what the fuck do we do now?” You looked straight at Marcus as you asked, knowing Nestor called him here for a reason and if he trusted him you should too.

“We run.” His advice was chaotic but it was spoken so confidently that you didn’t have an ounce of doubt in you. Maybe it was because running was a life you knew about pretty well, it was comfortable. It was safe, ironically. “But for now, let’s get him to a couch, we’ll head out in a few hours.”

You nodded in agreement as Marcus walked over to help you bring Nestor to your living room. Placing him on the couch you both stood over him. After a moment you looked over at Marcus and introduced yourself giving him your name.

“Miguel’s sister.” You specified even more. Before the two of you could speak more, Nestor was mumbling under his breath.

“What?” You placed your attention on him.

“Before I showed up. Were you on a date?” Nestor grumbled, the pain medicine obviously kicking in.

Embarrassed, you snapped your head towards Marcus who was quick to look away.

“I’ll, uh.” Marcus pointed towards the kitchen and quickly made himself scarce leaving you and Nestor in the living room.

“Not a very good one if this was the highlight of my night.” Your voice was annoyed but you spoke the truth.

Nestor smiled at your response. It was a mix of pride and also relief. “Maybe, when this is all over, I can take you on a date.”

His voice was slurring, it was another empty promise, you knew that, but you also knew that he meant it.

“You should get some rest, Nes.” As your hand swayed next to him, he grabbed it.

“Promise me that you’ll give me a chance.”

You froze at his touch but then nodded. If he could give you an empty promise, you should be able to also.

“I promise.”

Part 1

#nestor x reader #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans fanfiction #mayans fanfic #nestor fanfic #nestor oceteva x galindo sister #galindo sister reader #galindo sister #galindo reader #marcus alvarez

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hazzyking · 2 years ago

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Appearances

-just a smutt warning

-sorry if it's bad

-I tried posting a gif like all the other good fanfic creators but then I uncovered a spoiler that hurt my heart so no gifs until I get further in Mayans 🫣

-I agree there needs to be more Alvarez content so I'm making my contribution. Hopefully more creators will give us content ❤️

-enjoy

It was one of those days. The sun was shining the wind was nice and crisp and it broke the heat just right. You had a day off from work and Marcus had a "day off" from his club. Bishop had called Marcus out to come hang out at the scrap yard to which you reluctantly obliged. It was your one day off and you were gonna spend it at your job, but- they were kinda like your family anyway and Marcus promised a free ride on the back of his bike. You had your own but riding with Marcus made you feel special so, you woke up bright and early and put on your best looking but also most comfortable riding gear ((whatever you think that would look like to you)) and you and Marcus made your way to the scrapyard. It was a long drive, every time you road with Marcus he took his time, he loved the comfort your arms wrapped tightly around his waist gave him, and the warmth of your legs pressed up against him. It just brought him great calm feeling you on his bike. Especially when he spent his days riding all over California alone. He let out a relaxed hum which was drowned out over the moter of the bike but you felt it. You felt his muscles turn to butter as you laid your cheek on his shoulder and closed your eyes feeling relaxed as well. When you two pulled into the scrap yard Coco and Angle were quick to stop what they were doing to Greet you.

You stepped off the bike and smiled at the boys approaching you, until Marcus shot a glare at the two boys and they turned on their heels walking in the opposite direction you glared at him rolling your eyes "what? I want you all to myself" Marcus muttered putting his hands on your waist and pulling you towards him. You blushed and pulled away from him looking down at the dirt "right... appearances" Marcus looked down at the ground, slightly hurt by the rejection.

Later that day you were seen walking across the dirt drive way, as you walked you hoisted your pants up so they sit higher on your waist, Angle watched as you shimmied your ass in your pants and bit his lip watching you with dark eyes "what's wrong? Pants don't fit?" Angle questioned, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Yea it's hard when your ass is so fat" you said with confidence seemingly knocking the wind out of the young man. You trot over to Bishop and Alverez who are leaning against a car having a beer together. Alverez watches you dreamily as you hop over to them with a smile "what?" You asked, knowing exactly what you were doing to the oh so tough Mayan.

"You are so beautiful when you smile like that." Alverez spoke smoothly unraveling you causing you to melt to his delicious words.

"S-stop, i dont want the guys to think-" you stuttered blushing darkly.

"Oh sorry Reigna, I'll compliment you later when I'm in between your legs" Alverez smirked as If he could hear you internally scream, your cheeks Got darker and you ran away into the garage of the scrap yard. You hated when Marcus was like that with you infront of the guys you tried so hard to maintain this tough appearance so no one would walk all over you, and there he is, complimenting you and undressing you with his eyes. You grunted in frustration and slumped down behind a car. You herd Alverez's boots click against the concrete floor, and your heart began racing. You moaned softly at the agonizing feeling in your pants. They were uncomfortable before- it's even worse now "I know your in here mija" Alverez chuckled a dark chuckle. You rose to your feet and saw his smile illuminate the room, you giggled softly slowly approaching the man, his hands found their way to your hips again, and he pressed you against one of the cars.

"Marcus-" you blushed squirming away.

"(Y/N) I don't want to play games anymore hm?" Alverez muttered his eyes glancing all over your body.

"But-" you squeaked out as you felt his lips against your neck, you began to lose your train of thought as his tongue and teeth graze against the soft skin. You shutter under him fighting back soft moans "w-what are you doing" you managed to get out.

"Worshipping you Reigna" Alverez muttered against your neck, you could feel your panties start to get wet as he continued teasing you, his hands making their way under your shirt and pushing your bra up so his fingers can play with your nipples. You breathed heavily, eyes screwed shut and your lips biting back a moan, Alverez looked into your eyes and noticed so he leaned in teasing you with a kiss. To his shock you caved and crashed your lips onto his, your legs almost immeadatley wrapping around your waist as he pushed you into the car more. You could feel the buldge in his pants grow bigger as you desp grind against him begging for some friction. Alverez's tounge slides past your lips and dances with yours as you moan quietly into the kiss. His hands work at the button on your jeans and slowly unzips them while your legs grip to his waist, the only thing holding you up was his body and the car.

His hands slowly moved into your panties teasing you to the fullest ammount. You couldn't take it anymore "Marcus?" You spoke breathlessly as his fingers rubbed your clit.

"Hm?" He mumbled against your neck, as if his lips could feel your hears race

"Please" you moaned a bit louder than you wanted as he slid two fingers into your dripping entrance, you knocked your head back onto the roof of the car moaning.

"Please what Reigna?" He spoke with a smirk now watching the moans escape your throat. He set you down, your knees beginning to shake as the waves of pleasure stopped, you watched him kneel down infront of you and the pleasure quickly rushed back, he slowly pulled your pants down to your ankles and put one hand behind your knee pulling you closer to him, you watched all these actions knowing exactly what's to come next but still full of anticipation, lis lips began to suck your clit softly and your knees buckled due to his tongue working its Magic, his hands pushed your waist against the car without separating from your pussy. "Your beautiful Reigna" he muttered, and you blushed looking down at him, your fingers tangled themselves in his dark hair as he continued to pull you closer and closer to an orgasm you moaned out obscenities and then wined when he pulled away once more, he stood up looking at you with dark eyes, you swallowed hard. Doing this in a place like this. Didn't happen often. Alverez typically prefers his home. Anywhere in his home. But he prefers the privacy. It was such a long werk for him and watching you work and playfully flirt with the guy just made it impossible for him to control himself "no more appearances hm?" He muttered into your ear biting it softly.

"B-but" you protested.

"No buts Reigna- your mine, I love you. And I want everyone to see that love" Alvarez spoke kissing your neck "I want them to see you blush when I compliment you. I want them to hear you call me yours" his fingers slowly moved down your body and into your pants

"M-Marcus- I dont"

"Don't take me so seriously mija, I want them to see the softness. Not this. But I couldn't wait any longer for this, I had to get you alone" Marcus speaks as he begins to rub your clit in circular motions you moan laying your head against the car again exposing your throat, Alverez's other hand reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, all while his other hand begins to fuck you with his fingers. You gasp as his grip tightens just enough your unable to respond as your moans fill up the garage "Te gustan mis manos alrededor de tu garganta mija?" Alvarez speaks slowly with a bit of a growl your eyes look at him blushing, you have absolutely no idea what he just said to you. But it sounded so sexy.

"I-i" you moan.

"I know- I said, do you like the way my hands feel around your throat, Mija" he repeated muttering into your ear. You swallowed hard as Alverez continued to fuck you with his fingers bringing you to a swift orgasm. "I'll take that as a yes" he smirked kissing you softly as he removed his hands from your pants. You flushed, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at him feeling so hot and flustered "are you Okay?" Alvarez asked kissing your cheek softly.

"I'm perfect" you breathed out. "But I'm also a mess! How am I gonna clean this!" You argued swatting his leather covered chest.

"I think these things through Reigna relax" he chuckled pulling a bandanna from his pocket "do you want to clean yourself up or should i?" Alvarez looking at you with dark eyes.

"I'll do it- your only gonna make it worse" you spoke- you really wanted him to, but you knew no good would come from him touching you again. You'd be in that garage for hours.

"You really are beautiful Mi amor" he smiled watching you as you zipped your pants back up.

"Your fucking- ugh your amazing. I don't deserve you" you blushed resting your head against his chest.

"I'm the one who dosnt deserve you Mija, but I'm glad your here" Alvarez smiled "lest go before someone comes looking" he began to laugh as you shook your head, his hands tangled in yours as you both walked out of the garage, he went back to his spot next to Bishop and you walked over to Angel and Coco who looked at you with mischievous grins.

"Someone had fun"

#sons of anarchy #marcus alvarez x reader #mayan mc fanfic #sons of anarchy x oc #sons of anarchy fanfiction #smutty #marcus alvarez

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aces-and-angels · 5 months ago

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speaking of adding it lives into hcs:

The Breach by @saibug1022

ft. Magnus x Marcus; In attempt to finally put his past to bed, Magnus returns to Westchester one last time to visit the strange forcing lurking in the woods he grew up in. But little does he know, nothing with the Power is ever that simple. part one | part two | part three or read on ao3

#salems series deserves more lovin #magnus bishop #marcus sharpe #marcus x mc #laws of attraction #fanfic #it lives within #ilw #into the windverse #playchoices #choices

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pombinho · 2 years ago

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I might have just fallen in love with marcus rashford

#😍😍😍#manchester united #marcus rashford #mu x mc #premier league #gi talks

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bullet-prooflove · 11 months ago

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Downer on the prompt list? Hellz yeah!

I’m always ready for a war again

It’s late when Downer turns up on Marcus’s doorstep. Marcus half expects it. He turned up at the other man’s house tonight, asked you not to marry Downer, to run away with him instead. The thing about you? You’re honest to a fault, it’s one of the reasons he fell in love with you. There was no doubt in his mind that when he left that house that you would tell Downer exactly what happened.

When Downer shoves Marcus, El Padrino lets him have it. Afterall he’s in the wrong here, he stepped into another man’s territory, tried to take his girl. He deserves the other man’s wrath, his anger. He knows what it’s like to be loved by you, how it feels like seeing the sun rise everytime you smile. He also knows what it’s like to lose you, to feel a hole in the centre of your chest that you just can’t seem to fill.

“You came into my home.” Downer snarls, jabbing his finger into the other man’s chest. “Tried to convince her to come back to you.”

“I did.” Marcus says as he turns his attention to the decanter of whisky on the sideboard. He pours himself a drink before turning to face Downer. “It doesn’t matter she chose you.”

“It matters.” Downer snaps at him. “Because you’re still the same self-centred asshole that you were back then.”

Marcus laughs and it’s a bitter sound that resonates through the room because he doesn’t deem what he did back then as selfish. He was saving you; he tells himself. You could have been hurt, killed.

“When the Niners put a hit out on me, she was fair game.” Marcus informs the other man. “I was protecting her…”

“No, you were protecting yourself.” Downer retaliates, his eyes blazing. “When they put the hit out you realised that she was a weakness. You could have told her the truth, you could have told her anything but instead you picked the things you knew would hurt her, that would drive her away. Do you know what you did to her?”

Marcus looks away because there’s some truth in those words. You were a weakness, another button for his enemies to push, a way to gain leverage over him. He’s spent months telling himself he was saving you, but truly he was only saving himself.

“You destroyed her.” Downer spits, his voice ragged and harsh. “She couldn’t trust after that, couldn’t engage with people because all she saw was pain.”

“But you fixed that right?” Marcus retorts, draining the rest of his glass. “By taking her to bed, by fucking her.”

“No, that’s not what happened.” Downer says, his tone softening. “I just reminded her how loved she was. You took that from her Marcus, you made her feel like she wasn’t worthy of anybody else, and I will never forgive you for that.”

That’s the heart of the matter, the real reason that Downer’s angry. Not because El Padrino turned up on his doorstep or he asked you not to marry him. It’s the fact he made you feel worthless, that he decimated your self confidence and then he had the audacity to try and claw his way back into your life as if it was nothing.

“You fucked up.” Downer says quietly as he opens the door to let himself out. “And that’s on you.”

@librarian1002 @thanossexual @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @msjava1972 @fleureeee @kmc1989

#marcus alvarez #downer mayans #downer #marcus alvarez x reader #marcus alvarez x you #mayans mc

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broiderie · 9 months ago

Text

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 26

Well don't kill me. Here's part 26. It's a bit of lead up.

Personal note - I'm now on some serious heart medication due to reoccurring heart issues, so I'm a little foggy. Things may be a bit slower than they used to be even though I hoped to stick to my previous posting of about a chapter a week. That's not working out very well. It's taking me longer to get my ideas on paper and then even longer to get them typed. Please be patient with me.

Warnings: cursing (maybe), show level casual illegal activity, Angel being a menace.

Also - don't steal my shit. This is the only place this is posted.

Taza, Hank, Megan and Rex quickly joined the rest of the club inside. “Morning, Poquito, Hank, Taza. You look like you’re going somewhere important,” Bishop greeted them as he claimed a morning hug from Megan. “What’s the plan today?”

Hank smiled ruefully. “Ask la princessa. She’s the one that’s insistent about it.”

Megan, who had moved on to giving Marcus his morning greeting, shot him a look over her good shoulder.

“Really now, Bebita? What’s he mean?” Marcus asked, looking down at her as he hugged her close.

Megan sighed. “We’re going to see the doctor in Santa Madre for an x-ray. I want this sling off so I can have my life back.”

Creeper frowned from the bar stool where he was perched. “Didn’t the rez doctor say no?”

Megan grimaced. “He said not quite, but that was with the plaster cast. The soft cast and the immobilizing sling mean it’s been resting more than it had been. Some progress has to have been made.”

Bishop nodded and sat down at one of the tables with a cup of coffee. “How’s the pain?”

“Honestly - so much better. I haven’t had so much as an aspirin and it just feels achey and stiff,” she assured him.

“How achey?” Bishop asked again.

“More than a post workout ache but less than a set dislocated shoulder ache. I honestly think I’d be fine without the sling for the most part. I can always put it back on if it hurts.” She shrugged her good shoulder.

There was a collective wince from the elders at her description.

“What the hell, Shorty. How’d you know what a dislocated shoulder feels like, huh?” Angel asked, giving her a skeptical look.

“Angel - I rode in rodeos. Not a rider I know who hasn’t dislocated at least one shoulder once. In my event - that was the price of a mistake,” she smiled. “And a small price to pay rather than a broken leg or back.”

“Shit, Ma. And you did that shit for fun?” Coco added, puffing on his cigarette.

“Well, the money was nice too.”

“Holy shit. No wonder you didn’t freak out about the pain.” Coco ashed the cigarette in his hand. “Y’all need someone to ride along?”

“Nah. Thanks, Coco. We’re good, I think. Just a quick run for an x-ray,” Hank assured him as he settled into a chair across the table from Taza.

“Besides- like Creep said - the rez doc didn’t think she was healed enough yet. Good possibility it’s still too early but la princessa is impatient,” Taza said with a grin in Megan’s direction. SHe stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, we have Angel and EZ doing the Adelita meet today. They’re going South anyway. Might as well go along with you so they don’t have to walk from the desert,” Bishop said. He turned to look at EZ where he was polishing glasses. “Prospect, you better do your memory shit. Poquito could only arrange for the two of you. We’ll hold Templo tonight so everyone gets read in at once.”

EZ nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“And don’t fuck it up,” Hank added.

Taza agreed. “You two fuck up this gun deal… Neither of you can afford it. The club can’t afford it.”

Both brothers nodded solemnly.

It wasn’t even an hour laters that they met at the dress warehouse hatch. By now they had this to a science. EZ carried Rex. The ladder was difficult for Megan on handed, so Hank went first so he could catch her if she slipped. Taza stayed at the top guiding her down as far as he could maintain his balance.

The tunnel itself wasn’t too bad. The terrain was a bit rough, but nothing Megan couldn’t handle with the help of the lights and either Taza or Hank’s guiding hand on her good arm.

THe hatch on the other end, however, was the bane of her existence. The ladder was built for much taller men so the rungs were further apart and roughly built. They weren’t evenly spaced either. When they reached it Megan sighed. She had slipped every time at this end.

“What’s wrong, Princessa?” EZ asked. “Need a break?” He handed her a bottle of water from the backpack he was carrying.

Megan shot him a rueful smile and sipped it. “More like an elevator. I hate this ladder.”

Taza grimaced. “We’ll get a new one soon, Chica. Just gotta deal until then.”

Angel eyed the ladder. “Bet me and the boyscout could get you up it easier.”

Hank frowned a bit and tugged Megan to rest against his chest a moment. “What do you mean, Angel?”

“We got Creep up it pretty easy when he needed the doc. Megan’s a lot smaller.” Angel shrugged. “Same way we used to get shit into the attic for Pops.”

EZ broke into a wide grin. “You might be right.”

Taza shrugged a bit as he glanced at Megan. “What do you say, Chica? Want to let them try it?”

Megan eyed the hated ladder, before turning to eye the brothers. “Promise not to drop me?”

Angel gave a sardonic laugh. “And risk getting shot? We won’t drop you, Shorty.”

“Alright then. How’re we doing this?” she asked.

Angel grinned. “Taza, you and EZ go first. Once you’re up, EZ lays on the floor to lift la princessa with Taza to anchor him. Megan gets on my shoulder an’ EZ pulls her out. Simple. Reyes Brothers Elevator.”

Hank chuckled and shook his head, amazed at the simplicity of it. “I’ll help steady you, mi amore. This way you don’t risk falling like yesterday.” The day before, Megan had been lucky Hank was behind her for the ladder. He’d had to catch her twice.

Just like Angel outlined, Taza and EZ went first with EZ carrying Rex. Taza paid the toll while the prospect laid down and hung his top half through the hatch. Taza anchored his legs as Hank helped Angel get Megan onto his shoulders and steadied her as he stood. Then EZ locked his arm and pulled Megan up until Taza could help her out of the hatch. In the end, EZ was breathing a little heavy, but the near disaster of the day before had been averted. Angel and Hank then climbed up to join them.

“Thanks Angel and EZ. That was much easier on my end,” Megan said, smiling at the brothers.

Angel gave a slightly cocky grin. “Anything for la princessa de los Mayas, right Prospect?”

EZ laughed a little and straightened his kutte. “Right.”

Once they reached the town, Angel and EZ dropped them off at the storefront where the doctor kept an office upstairs and headed out to the coordinates Luisa had sent to the burner phone in Angel’s pocket.

“Alright, Chica. Let’s go get this x-ray and find out how you’re doing. After, we can go find something to do until Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum get back,” Taza said with a grin.

Hank led the way up the narrow stairs and paused at the top to smile back at Megan. “You ready, mi amore?”

Megan smiled a little nervously. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Of course, Princessa.” He chuckled a little. “We’d have to anyway - Doc doesn’t speak English.”

Inside, Taza spoke with a man quietly in Spanish as Megan leaned into Hank’s side. The conversation wasn’t very long before the man smiled at Megan and waved her forward.

Megan turned to look at Taza.

“He just wants to take the sling off and feel for the break before he x-rays you, Chica,” Taza assured her.

Hank guided her forward and worked the sling straps on her back to release them. Once the sling was off, he sat her on the narrow wooden table while holding her good hand.

The doctor approached with his hands held calmingly out in front of him. He gently pressed along her collarbone. He looked at Hank and asked something.

“Mi reina, he wants to know if it hurts when he touches it,” Hank translated.

“No. It’s a little achey, but that’s just the stiffness I think,” Megan said.

The doctor nodded as Taza translated what was said. He gestured for Hank to step away from Megan and rolled a camera looking machine in front of her before holding a metal panel behind her shoulder. Megan fought the urge to giggle as she realized that the x-ray machine was a portable vet tool.

The doctor took the shots that he needed before indicating that he’d be back in a moment.

As soon as he was out of the room, Megan lost the battle with her giggles. Both men grinned at her.

“What’s so funny, Chica?” Taza asked, amused at her reaction to this doctor. He had expected nerves or even some defiance like he’d seen the other times doctors had looked at her.

“Papa, he’s not a doctor, is he? He’s a vet,” Megan bit her lip to stifle her laugh.

Hank burst out laughing while Taza stared at her for a moment before joining in.

“How’d you know, Princessa?” Hank asked as he moved to support her still splinted arm through her laughing fit.

“The x-ray machine gave it away. And he wasn’t exactly concerned that he couldn’t talk to me directly. Plus - he came at me like I was going to cow kick him if he surprised me.”

Taza laughed again. “You’re right. He’s a farm vet. We didn’t want to scare you with him not being a ‘real’ doctor, so we just didn’t say anything.”

Megan smiled mischievously. “Well - for future reference - I’d much rather the vet than the hospital any day.”

An hour or so later they were walking down the narrow steps to the street level again with Megan’s sling tucked into a bag. The doctor had given the go ahead to remove the sling as long as she wasn’t using her arm too much and there wasn’t a lot of pain. He’s also provided Hank with a refill of the ibuprofen - just in case.

Once on the street, they decided to head to a small restaurant down the street to wait for the Reyes brothers and have lunch.

Taza ordered for them at the counter while Hank and Megan found a table in a spot where they could see the door. Megan kept rolling her right shoulder until Hank gently rubbed his hand down her spine and across her shoulders. “Are you alright, mi reina?” he asked her as he did it.

Megan gave a soft groan of relief as Hank rubbed. Hank chuckled at the noise as she answered. “I’m fine. Just stiff.” She paused, arching her back into his rubbing hand. “That feels so good.”

Hank laughed again and scooted his chair back from the table. “Come ‘ere, Princessa. Let me help.” He tugged her to sit in his lap facing him and leaned her forward against his chest so he could gently rub the knots from her back that the sling caused.

Megan melted against him as the firm pressure released her muscles even through her kutte and holster.

Hank grinned as Taza came to the table with two trays of food and drinks. His smile assured Taza that nothing was seriously wrong.

Taza placed the trays on the table and took his seat across from her. “Everything alright?” he asked quietly.

Megan nodded from where her face was buried in between Hank’s neck and shoulder but made no move to get up. She let out another quiet moan that only Hank could hear as he hit a particularly nice spot.

Hank chuckled again and tried not to think about it too much. He liked that noise. He met Taza’s eyes. “Yeah. She’s just stiff and her back muscles are in knots from the sling.

Taza laughed a little. “So that’s why she’s practically purring.”

Hank grinned. He tilted his chin to kiss Megan’s hair. “Your papa brought lunch. You ready to eat?” he asked her.

Megan whined a little, but nodded before lifting her head. Hank helped her to settle back into her chair with a laugh. “A hot shower when we get home will help, mi amore.”f

As they ate, they made plans for the rest of the day. They had Templo when they got back to discuss the deal with the L.O. but after that no plans had been made.

“Well, your tíos and I need to meet after Templo to do some book work, so I’ll be tied up for the night. What are your plans, Chica?” Taza asked as he discreetly added more rice to Megan’s plate while she was distracted.

“Don’t know. I need to let Riz know to put me back on the schedule since the sling is off, but I also know that he’s already got this week’s schedule posted. I looked this morning,” Megan said as she ate the taco she'd fixed from the communal plates Taza had ordered them. “Will you be in meetings too, Hank?”

Hank sipped his soda and shook his head. “Nah. All my book stuff is done for the next two weeks.” He leaned back in his chair and slid his arm along the back of Megan’s. “Now that your sling’s off - would you want to do something tonight?”

Megan’s eyes sparkled. “Like a date?”

Hank laughed. “Yes. Like an actual date, mi princessa. Nothing too fancy, but a date.”

Megan bounced a little in her chair. “Yes!”

Taza grinned at her enthusiasm. “There we go. I’ll be home late too, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Would you keep Rex for the night?” Hank asked, petting the big dog’s ears under the table. “I thought we might take the bike.”

Megan lit up further “Really?”

“If your papa doesn’t mind.”

Megan turned to him with her big, brown eyes pleading.

“Yes. I’ll keep the pooch - if you promise to stay with Hank, Chica. I like you having him as an extra line of defense when you’re out, so you have to promise not to do anything stupid,” Taza stipulated.

“I promise, Papa.”

“Alright then. You two will have date night while the pooch and I work late.”

Hank’s burner beeped from his kutte pocket. He pulled it out and checked it without removing his arm from Megan’s chair. “Angel and the Prospect are back in town.”

“Perfect timing. Let’s go home.”

They met the brothers back where they’d split up. Angel quickly abandoned the driver's seat to Taza and Megan got shotgun with Hank behind her.

At the hatch, this time Taza went first followed by Megan. It was much easier without the sling. She managed to slip once, but caught herself. Once they were at the bottom, EZ frowned at the ladder. “That thing really does need fixed. La Princessa shouldn’t have to struggle with it every time. Especially since she’s going to be dealing with this trip a lot as the armorer,” he said.

“Glad you volunteer, Prospect,” Hank agreed. “You can start on it tomorrow.”

Megan giggled a little as she caught her breath in the close confines of the tunnel but petting Rex.

“You good, Shorty? Didn’t bust nothin’ when you slipped, did ya?” Angel asked.

Megan stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m fine. Just missed a rung.”

“Alright. Just checkin’. No harm in that,” Angel grinned a bit. “Hey Boyscout - maybe you need to use that big brain of yours to figure out a lift, huh? That way la princessa doesn’t break a nail.”

Megan smacked Angel in the chest with the back of her good hand and laughed. “You suck, Angel.”

“That’s why the women love me.”

Megan wrinkled her nose. “Eeewwww. TMI.”

Angel cracked up. “You asked for it.”

Taza shook his head with an exasperated chuckle and shoved Angel forward along the tunnel. “Get going before you scar my daughter for life.”

They made their way back to the Northern hatch where they all climbed out into the dress warehouse with EZ helping to lift Rex through the door. They were all a little dusty, but none the worse for wear.

Back at the clubhouse, Megan proudly walked in without her sling to find Bishop and Marcus relaxing at a table with a few beers.

“Well look at you, Poquito. Doctor freed you?” Bishop asked, standing to claim a hug.

Megan stepped into his embrace with a smile. “Still gotta wear the soft cast and be easy with it, but he cleared me to lose the sling.”

“Good. That’ll make dance lessons easier,” Marcus said as he got his own hug,

“Among other things,” Megan agreed.

“Is everyone here?” Hank asked.

“Waiting on Riz. He went to help Vickie with something,” Bishop said, taking his seat back.

Taza and Hank joined them as Angel split off to the bar where Coco and Gilly were waiting. EZ went to fetch drinks automatically as Hank pulled Megan onto his knee.

“He needs to hurry up. La Princessa and her caballero have a date tonight,” Taza said, accepting the beer from EZ.

Marcus grinned. “Finally going to take Poquito somewhere, Tranq?”

Hank grinned. “That’s the plan if nothing fucking it up this time.”

Bishop looked over his shoulder at where Angel was sipping on his own beer. “We’ll be fine for one night, brother. Take Poquito out tonight. If shit hits the fan - it can wait until tomorrow for you.” He grinned. “Now, that being said - you have planning to do. So get to it. Poquito - did the doctor say when the soft cast can come off?”

Hank chuckled and pressed a kiss to the place where Megan’s neck met her shoulder before sliding out from in under her. He watched as Megan settled into his seat and got distracted by her tío’s question before slipping out to the front porch.

Megan smiled at Bishop. “Tío, why’re you asking me? You know very well the doctor doesn’t speak English.”

Bishop laughed and nodded. “You’re right. You’re right. So what did your papa tell you he said?”

“Still another three weeks or so - as long as I don’t do anything stupid. I kind of think Papa added that part on though,” Megan teased.

Taza laughed. “I paraphrased. That’s all Chica.”

They chatted amicably for a bit before Angel came over to ask to speak to Bishop and Taza alone for a minute in Templo. That left Megan with Marcus.

“Have you heard anything from Tía Diana and Tessa?” Megan asked. “I haven’t heard much since they left.”

Marcus sat forward at the table to smile at her. He leaned his forearms there and smiled. “Yeah. I heard from them at about lunch time. They’re probably still on the road though. Tessa doesn’t have much patience for car rides, so Diana will stop often to let her stretch.” He fiddled with his beer bottle a bit. “I talked to your tía about the move. She agrees that it’s probably best for everyone if I pause my patch for a bit.”

Megan reached across the table to squeeze his fingers. “And you? What do you think?”

He squeezed back before meeting her eyes. “I think she’s right. It makes the most sense, Bebita.”

“Then why the hesitation?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know who I am without this kutte, Poquito. I’ve been wearing it so long it’s practically my skin at this point.” He sighed. “I’m struggling with letting go.”

“I understand. It’s like leaving rodeo was for me.” She fiddled with his signet ring, “But Tío, you aren’t leaving for good. It’s just like recon.”

He chuckled. “You’re right. We’ll make the call at the Templo after this one. I want to be sure the gun deal is solid first. Besides - this way nothing is on Hank’s mind tonight except you. Finally getting a real date night, huh? You gonna let him show out?”

Megan laughed and sat back. “You mean I could stop him?”

“Good point.”

Bishop and Taza returned with very serious faces. Megan sat up straight in alarm. “Papa? Everything alright?”

“Sí, Chica. Angel just had some information for us.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to the top of her head before resuming his seat. “Your tío is going to take care of it before Templo.”

Bishop nodded and gathered Gilly and Creeper before riding out.

“Anything I need to know, Hermano?” Marcus asked.

Taza shook his head. “Nah. Charter issue.”

Marcus nodded.

When Bishop and the others returned, Bishop’s face was like a thundercloud and Riz was with them. Hank followed them in from the front porch too. Bishop didn’t even have to say anything. He just grabbed the whiskey bottle and a glass and headed for Templo. Everyone followed.

taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

If you would like to be added to the taglist - please let me know.

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mescalpascal · 5 months ago

Text

Title: A Fine Romance (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2735

Warnings: Established, long-term relationship; no age gap; strong language; semi-public sex; oral sex (female-receiving); unprotected PiV sex; Reader identifies as female and has female anatomy but is undescribed otherwise; Reader has no name — Marcus and others call her by pet names (i.e.: “Songbird”, “my girl”); gratuitous use of Bruce Springsteen lyrics.

Notes: Part of the @pedgito / @chaotic-mystery / @amanitacowboy Summer Of Love challenge! I was given Marcus Pike at a concert and the moodboard above. This was not anywhere near the story I set out to write, but it’s the story that wanted to be told. I hope everyone enjoys.

Dedicated to @ladamedusoif, my beta, my lifeline (sometimes literally), and one of the best friends a girl could ask for… Thank you. 💜

(Dividers by @saradika-graphics)

You’re nervous.

You’re used to the feeling, and usually, it passes pretty fast. Once the lights hit your face and the mic’s in your grasp, it all fades and there’s nothing but you and the music and the crowd singing your lyrics back.

Maybe it’s because it’s a festival — your first one ever. You’re far more accustomed to dark little bars or the smaller concert venues you’ve recently graduated to. So this? This wide-open field with its hundreds of thousands of faces and unknowable reach thanks to a free online livestream?

This makes you nervous.

“Hey.” Marcus’ voice is clear even over the din of the crowd. “You alright?”

You turn to meet his deep brown eyes, shining with excitement for you. “Just a little shaky.”

His smile widens and his broad hand falls to your lower back. “You’re gonna be amazing, Songbird.” Just the sound of your nickname slows your heart rate a little. “And,” he leans in and kisses you softly, his lips dragging on yours a little longer than necessary. “I can’t wait to celebrate your success afterward.”

You feel the heat in your face though you’re sure no one heard Marcus’ entendre. Swatting gently at his arm even as you wink, you pull back. “Where will you be?”

“There’s a little family section in the pit. On your left from centerstage. I’ll be right there.” He presses another kiss to your cheek as one of the stagehands waves to you, your signal that you’re about to go on. “Love you,” he murmurs, catching your fingers and squeezing them. “Go kick some ass.”

“I love you, too,” you reply as he hurries away.

“You ready?” Dante Robbins has been your guitarist since the days of playing on the street outside the bars.

“Mm. Let’s do it.”

Your traditional pre-show handclaps are half-hearted, and you wonder if maybe Dante is just as nervous as you. But when the MC announces your set and you bounce onto the stage, things start to feel much more familiar.

“Thank you, New York!”

Dante’s nimble fingers slip into your über-popular cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Rosalita”, the festival’s backing band picking up immediately, and your gaze surreptitiously slips down to find Marcus in the exact spot he’d said.

“Spread out now, Rosie, doctor come cut loose her mama’s reins You know playin’ blind man's bluff is a little baby’s game You pick up Little Dynamite, I’m gonna pick up Little Gun And together we’re gonna go out tonight and make that highway run You don’t have to call me lieutenant, Rosie, and I don’t want to be your son The only lover I’m ever gonna need’s your soft sweet little girl’s tongue Ah, Rosie, you’re the one…”

As you dance and sing across the stage, your nerves all but abated, you catch Marcus again, bouncing and clapping like your very own Courteney Cox. He’s got such a smile on his face you can’t help but grin back, almost wishing you could pull him up to dance beside you.

“Rosalita, jump a little lighter Señorita, come sit by my fire I just want to be your lover, ain't no liar Rosalita, you're my stone desire…”

Your set consists of six songs, and you close it out with your first single, “Stone Desire” (which calls right back to “Rosalita” and, you think, is a perfect circle). The roar of the crowd is beyond deafening as you hurry off stage, and in the excitement, you realize — Dante isn’t with you. In fact, he’s been more than absent since you first got up on stage.

“Dante?” you call. You try to think — nothing unusual had happened since that morning. You’d done your little rehearsal in your hotel room while Marcus showered; you’d driven over together in the trailer bus…

And yet, since you’d gotten to the festival grounds, he’d been distant. The cold way he started the gig. The enthusiastic high-fives that had been your signature since the early days had been lacking. He didn’t even respond normally to the way you chatted and introduced him between songs.

What did I do? you think. Our biggest chance yet and he’s…

You step past the little curtains that separate the wings of the stage from the outside world, and stop dead in your tracks.

Dante is standing right there, acoustic guitar now strapped over his shoulder. You recognize the song he’s playing — Peter Frampton’s quintessential “Show Me The Way” — but it’s truly just background noise to the other thing happening…

Marcus, on one knee, holding up a simple diamond solitaire.

“I know you probably think I’m insane,” he says, his voice soft but strong. “But I’ve wanted to do this for so long and I just… Today felt like the right day. This feels like the right moment.” His eyes hold yours as you take slow, tentative steps towards him. “I want to be there for you every single time you sing, sweetheart. Your own personal fanclub — on and off that stage.” He reaches out and takes your fingers lightly in his free hand. “Will you marry me?”

You feel the grass under your knees before you even realize you’ve dropped down to meet him. “Oh, Marcus,” you murmur, your fingers grazing up over his stubbled cheek. You feel tears on your face and your smile doesn’t feel like it will ever falter. “Yes. Of course, yes.”

Dante’s soft guitar is all you hear as Marcus slips the little band over your finger and pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue parting your lips as his hand curls around the back of your neck. “Oh, I love you,” he whispers into your mouth.

“I love you,” you reply, the salt of your tears and his delicious taste mixing between you. You’re sure people can see you, that your little moment isn’t private in any way, but you just don’t care. The only thing that matters is the beautiful man wrapped in your arms.

The kisses are only broken when a thought hits you. “Wait, wait.” You push back, your palms pressed against Marcus’ shoulders. Marcus holds you, his face colored with concern. “Dante?”

You look up at him, and he smiles a little, shrugging, his long hair bunching against his shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Marcus,” you say slowly. “Dante knew this whole time?”

“I didn’t know who else to trust,” he replies, grinning. “Figured he was a good choice.”

“Wish it was anyone else,” Dante interjects. “I can’t keep a secret for shit.”

“I thought you were mad at me!” you cry. “You were so out of it!”

“Tell your fiancé not to make me lie to you!”

“A secret is not a lie, Dante.”

Guitar long since swung around his back, Dante folded his arms over his chest. “And that’s why you’re a government agent and I’m a damn musician,” he laughs. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Congratulations, babe. And you.” He points a finger in Marcus’ face. “Be good to my girl.”

Marcus salutes. “I will. I promise.”

With that, Dante is gone, and you and Marcus are alone — still kneeling in the grass, your new ring glinting against his shoulder in the sunlight. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

After a quick food truck meal and a couple of beers — interspersed with a handful of folks coming up to you for photos and autographs — Marcus holds your hand as you make your way back to the trailer. There’s a DJ on stage now, filling time between the late afternoon sets and the big time evening performers, and you hear your “Rosalita” remixed into an upbeat Mexican cumbia rhythm.

You laugh, but Marcus takes a different approach, pulling you in to dance with him. You’ve never been particularly good, but he is, and you fall into step with him as his hands curl around you and his body sways against yours.

“So hold tight, baby, cause don't you know daddy's comin’...”

His voice fills your ear, his breath hot on your cheek, and you press back against him, your hands wrapping over his where they rest on your belly.

Without another word, you turn and take his fingers in yours, pulling him to the trailer. You’re barely inside before your lips are on his.

“Easy, easy,” he whispers, but you fumble behind him to lock the door as you kiss him deeper.

“I want” — your teeth scrape over his full lower lip — “my fiancé” — your nose along the line of his beard — “to fuck me” — your tongue down the column of his throat — “right now.”

You know Marcus. He’s soft, gentle, romantic. Just the way you love him.

And yet, inspired by the song lyrics he’d purred in your ear and your proclamation of desire, a switch seems to have been flipped.

He grabs you, swinging you around so the backs of your thighs are pressed against the little table against the other wall. You take the hint, sitting back on it as he devours your mouth. “You’re going to have to be very quiet,” he whispers. “Even with the music outside.”

You nod, whimpering already as his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt and brush against your bare skin. He moves slowly, but soon the t-shirt is gone and so is the bra beneath it, and his lips have taken their place.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you toss your head back as his tongue circles over one of your nipples. “Oh, Marcus…”

“Shhh, love,” he whispers into your skin. He continues his path, pushing you carefully back to rest on your elbows as he dips into your belly button. His deft fingers work at your jeans, and he only pulls his mouth from your body long enough to release you from them.

He meets your eyes, wordlessly awaiting your agreement, and when you mouth, “I love you”, he grins and disappears between your legs.

It’s hard to be any kind of quiet when Marcus Pike is eating you out. In fact, it’s damn near impossible, and the only way you can control yourself is to grab the t-shirt you’d been wearing and stuff it between your lips.

Marcus isn’t all that quiet, either. His little groans and moans as he strokes himself through his jeans and as his lips and tongue probe your most sensitive areas are enough to make you come then and there. His hands are holding your legs apart even as every instinct inside you is telling you to close them; his nose is nudging your clit in the most delicious way possible as his tongue darts inside you.

You remove the material from your mouth to whisper, “Marcus, baby, I’m close.”

“I know,” he replies, looking up at you, his face shimmering with your slick. “Let go.”

And as he disappears again, you do.

You’re still shaking slightly, your breath in raspy gasps, when he — rather unceremoniously — pushes into you. The feeling is overwhelming and you can’t help but cry out louder than you’d intended, but he captures the sound in another bruising kiss as he lets you adjust around him. You tighten your muscles, relishing the fullness and weight of him inside you and on top of you, and he groans, taking the t-shirt from where it now rests over your chest and tucking it carefully behind your head.

As Marcus begins a slow but sharp rhythm against you, you discover that the little table is far sturdier than you’d have expected. His thighs slap hard against the bottom of your ass, and as he begins to speed up, you have the sudden image of the whole trailer shaking with the force of his thrusts.

It makes you laugh.

“What… What’s funny?” he pants, stuttering a little in his movements.

“N-no, don’t stop,” you breathe. “Just… If the trailer’s a-rockin’...”

“Oh, Jesus, sweetheart.” Marcus’ grin is real, even as sweat begins to bead on his forehead. “I must not be doing my job if you’re making jokes right now.”

As if rising to a challenge, he slips his thumb into your mouth and presses it to your tongue. After a moment, he pulls it free and uses it — wet with your saliva — to draw lazy circles around your clit as he fucks into you.

“Ohhhhhh.”

“That’s better,” he smiles. “C’mere.”

He slows a bit to allow you to push upright, your arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you hard. “Can you carry me?”

“Mm, I think I can manage.”

He lifts you carefully, but he stumbles, and you both nearly collapse in giggles.

“Oh, Marcus, put me down.” You pinch lightly at his hip and he lets your feet hit the floor, his eyes taking in your whole body. “Like what you see?”

“Always.”

You smile and take his hand, leading him back to the little bed, only slipping away from him to push him onto his back. You stroke his cock a few times before repositioning yourself over him, angling yourself to take him in as deep as possible.

Your groans mix together in the heavy air, and when he’s fully seated inside you, you lean forward to shove his shirt up, encouraging him to remove it. When he does, you press heavy, hard kisses to his chest, slowly rolling your hips against his as you do.

“Ah, fuck, keep that up and I won’t last,” he hisses.

You grin. “That’s my plan, Mr. Pike.” You nip at a little cluster of freckles on the front of his shoulder. “At least, the first time.”

Marcus’ hands come to rest on your waist, gripping you just enough to give the impression that he’s in control despite you making all the moves on top of him. You hold onto his elbows, using him as leverage as you bounce and grind on him, keeping your rhythm steady as you watch his face redden, his freckles popping against the flush.

“Come on, Marcus,” you murmur. “Come inside me. Claim me; claim your wife.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in his eyes, but just a moment, until he realizes you mean it completely. His fingers press so tightly into your skin you know you’ll feel the bruises for days but you don’t care, not one bit as you feel him shudder and arch beneath you. His body trembles and it’s enough to bring you over the edge with him, all pretense of quiet gone as you cry out and fall forward, your hand slamming into the wall over his head as he buries his face in the hollow of your throat.

You’re not entirely sure how much time has passed since you rolled off of Marcus and curled up under his arm. The music outside is less electronic, so you figure the DJ has finished and one of the bands is officially playing, but that could be minutes or hours, really.

Rolling onto your side, you slip your left hand over Marcus’ stomach and wiggle your finger so the little diamond glitters in the dim amber light of the trailer. “Marcus?”

“Mm?” He sounds sleepy, dazed, but he tightens his grip on you and you feel his lips brush over your forehead.

“When did you know you wanted to marry me?”

He’s quiet, just the sound of his steady breathing for a few moments. “Do you remember the first time I came to see you sing?”

Our fifth date. “Yes.”

“It was then.”

You furrow your brow, trying to remember the exact details of the night. “Because of my voice?”

“No.” He shifts against you now, shuffling down on the bed so your faces are aligned. “It was because you walked off that stage, right up to me, and said, ‘Let’s go get Chinese food, I’m starving.’”

“...you can’t be serious.”

He grins, his whole face lighting up. “As a heart attack. I knew right then.”

You laugh, loud and happy. “Oh, I fucking love you.”

Marcus pulls you in, and you wrap your legs around him, lining him up with your entrance. “Again, sweetheart?”

You nod, shifting your hips just slightly. “I said that was just the first time,” you reply, lifting your chin for a kiss. “Gotta celebrate tonight just right.”

As he slips inside you again, gentle and easy, you cuddle your face into his throat.

“I just wanna be your lover, ain’t no liar…”

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