#mayans smut
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hennyjwrites · 9 months ago
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I’d love to see something with Miguel Galindo.
Smut
“Use your words” and “Let me take a peek.” Because I hear him saying them and 🥵.
Thank you in advance!
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Miguel knew you were Angel's wife. Did he care? No. He was infatuated with you. If anything, taking you from Angel would make him feel even better. Taking you away from the streets and putting you in a mansion above everything and everyone. He saw you in a bar and took his opportunity. You knew it was wrong to get into his car considering the bad blood but Angel had cheated once again. You were hurting and don't care at the moment.
You were sitting next to him in the limo, laughing at a joke he told you. His hand was on your thigh. Miguel was quite the charmer. His hand rubbed you slowly. Your laughter died down as you looked over at him. He was already staring at you, waiting for your reaction. His hand moved up your thigh pulling at your thong.
“Miguel.” You warned, knowing this was going to end badly in the future. Miguel’s finger traced over your pussy and you tried to close them before you drowned in the pleasure.
Miguel prayed your legs back open. “Open your legs mi amor. I just want to take a peek.” His voice was smooth and his accent made him sexier. Your legs opened slightly giving Miguel what he wanted.
Miguel laid you back on the seat once your legs opened. “This is about you tonight. I’m going to send you back to your so-called husband dripping, missing me between your legs.”
Miguel pulled your panties down your legs. The wetness from your pussy leaves a string between it and the fabric. Miguel trailed his finger down your pussy. He heard your breath hitch. He pushed one finger in. He felt your pussy swallow his finger making his dick harden.
“You want more?” He asked. You moaned out. “Use your words of love. Beg me to make you feel good.”
“Please Miguel, please.”
That’s all Miguel needed to hear before he dived into your pussy. Miguel tongued your clit, making sure to suck on it softly. He pushed another finger into your pussy. Your soft moans, egged him on. Your fingers tangling in his hair. He was so different then Angel. He was caring about your pleasure.
He fingered you as he ate you. He sat up and spit on your pussy before diving back in. Miguel didn’t care about breathing. He just wanted you to cum all over his face.
Miguel smiled into your pussy as your legs quivered and he felt you clench around his fingers. You came, a loud moan following. Miguel ate you through your orgasm, prolonging it.
When you finally stopped shaking, Miguel pulled away. The car finally stopped. And you realized you were in front of Angel's house. Miguel pulled your face towards him and tongue kissed you. You tasted your essence on his tongue. You pulled away and watched as Miguel pocketed your panties.
Migue made a show of stepping out and opening your door. Angel walked out, shocked to see you stepping out of Miguel’s Galindos car. Before you could walk away, Miguel pulled you back, “when you're ready to stop slumming with the riff raff, you know my number.” He looked at Angel who was fuming. He smirked at him and winked. “I’m expecting your call soon.”
Miguel got back in his car and as you walked past a complaining angel you were already pulling your phone out ready to join Miguel.
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tinyshyteacup · 25 days ago
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Would anyone be interested in me writing some things for our Santo Padre Boys ?
#MayansMC ❤️‍🔥
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cregansgf · 1 year ago
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You Belong to Me. - Angel Reyes
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He slammed the beer bottle on the bar never taking his eyes off her. She was doing it on purpose he knew she was.
And fuck did he hate it.
💋💋💋💋💋💋
His hands never left my waist as we “danced”
“Your really cute you know” I whispered biting down on his ear lightly
“Oh really?” Ez mumbled his hands roaming further down my body
“I love you Ez but get your hands off her now.” Angel snapped walking over
I turned my head to look at him as a smirk formed on my face “But we’re having fun”
He grabbed my wrist dragging me to the bathroom before quickly slamming the door shut backing me against the sink.
“You think it’s cute acting like a slut?” He questioned sliding his hands up my skirt
“Mm your brother seems to like it”
That’s all it took for the switch in him to flip. His hands went to her shirt ripping it off throwing it to the floor doing the same with her skirt.
“No panties or bra? Fucking whore.” He spat attaching his lips to hers his hands sliding between her legs.
A whimper left her mouth as he pulled away sliding his finger inside her. “This pussy.” He paused picking up his pace his fingers moving faster inside her “Mine.”
He uses his other hand to cup one of her boobs lowering his mouth to suck on one momentarily before pulling away. “These boobs.” he smirked giving the other a soft kiss “Mine.”
“These beautiful lips” He whispered bringing his mouth to hers placing a sloppy kiss before pulling away “Mine.”
He pulled out his fingers from inside her before sucking her juices off his finger. When he finished he cupped her face with his hands forcing her to look at him “You belong to me.” He stated before smirking and leaving the bathroom
“Never forget who you belong to princess” He laughed before closing the door behind him.
I’d genuinely do anything this man told me to.
-hails🧸
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ravennaortiz · 5 months ago
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Hate Me, Love Me: Angels Story-nov
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As always 18+. TW:DV, character death
Summary: You two were a match made in heaven. Lovers from the moment you two locked eyes even though your parents had already chosen for you.....or so you thought. When EZ is released from prison a family secret comes to light. You were always to wed a Reyes ....it just wasn't suppose to be Angel. Can you convince him your love is still true and defy your parents wishes? Will EZ let you two be?
Word Count 2k+
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“We should have a baby” murmured Angel as he pulled you closer to him voice heavy with sleep still as he grinded against you making heat pool in your lower abdomen as your arousal dripped onto your thighs. “Morning to you as well” you giggled as your hand travelled down his bare chest and onto his thigh making his breath hitch. “and to him” you added as your hand gently stroked his hard cock. Your thumbnail carefully dragging the precum around his sensitive tip.
Angel groaned before quickly repositioning you under him his mouth sucking and nipping at your neck as his head notched at your opening. Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him slide into your slick heat easily. “Fuck” moaned Angel into your neck as you fluttered and clamped down around him. “So wet and tight already mi amor” he grunted as he slowly thrusted in and out of you making you moan and whimper.
A knock at the bathroom door had your mind ripping from that last morning you and Angel had been together. That day your lives had changed forever. Another knock had you scooping all the tests on the counter into the trashcan as you flushed the toilet and washed your hands. Opening the door you came face to face with the monster you had been living with for the last almost two months.
“Everything okay?” inquired EZ as he leaned against the wall. His dark eyes roaming over you in a way that made you ill. You gave a meek nod before holding out you hand to him and letting him lead you back to the table where your parents were sitting. The four of you were having a dinner to celebrate something EZ and your father had done. You could care less honestly. The only reason you were here was because EZ no longer trusted anyone to watch you when he left you at home. His patience was dwindling and he had been very clear this morning that he would only allow his denial between your legs for another night. Tomorrow he would just take what was his seeing as how you were now his wife.
You were pushing your salad around when you noted Bottles walk up and whisper something to EZ. Your stomach flipped and churned as you felt his gaze fall on you. “Mi Amor. Why didn’t you tell me you suspected you were pregnant?”
You swallowed hard as you willed yourself to meet his gaze. “You have been so busy, I didn’t want to worry you “ you started before EZ waved you off.
“Never too busy for you. I’m sorry they were negative though.” He offered before turning to your father. “I’ll be sure to fix that though tonight” he joked as he elbowed your father playfully who laughed as well as your mother.
Your eyes darted to Bottles who gave a slight shake of his head before disappearing back into the shadows. Why had he lied? You thought to yourself as you looked back to EZ and your father both of who were still chuckling as they went back to their discussion. A red dot on EZ’s chest caught your eyes right as he looked at you. EZ frowned at your wide eyes right before looking down. The next thing you knew a boom filled the air as your mother screamed and EZ slumped forward as your father ducked under the table.
Two months prior
You felt like the ground was crumbling out from under you as your father spoke. The air thick with tension,hurt and anger. Tears burned at your lash line as each word hit you in the gut. This couldn't be true. Couldn't be happening. Fanatically you searched the faces of your parents, Felipe, Angel and Ez, who sat around your kitchen table.
Only Angel's face mirrored how you felt. His grip on your hand tightening painfully as your parents tore your fairytale apart. Felipe had the decency to look ashamed and remorseful but offered no defense for you and Angel against your ever stoic and emotionless parents. You swallowed hard and shivered at the dark smirk you got from EZ.
EZ couldn't help the smirk that played across his face. The monster lurking beneath the golden boy scout mask, taking a quick peek at his beautiful prize. If he was being honest he didn't want you....well not exactly. He wanted you so Angel couldn't have you anymore. He wasn't interested in love or any of that fluffy bullshit. He wanted something to sink into whenever he needed, something to own.
“You mother and I understand this is hard. To have been with one man for over ten years then told you are being given to another” stated your father trying to pretend to be remorseful but you saw through the façade like you always had. “EZ is Presidente and the only reason I am agreeing to this change is because of his higher status than his brother.” continued to explain your father before Angel interrupted.
“He hasn’t even prospected. He can’t be Presidente” snapped Angel his fist slamming onto the table as his anger started to get the better of him. Ignoring his fathers quiet plea of calm Angel continued. “So you all just think you can barge into our home and tell us our marriage, our love and life we have built is just over? Null and void? That It doesn’t matter because this snot nosed golden child whined about it not being fair that he missed out because he killed a cop like an idiot.” Ranted Angel as he slammed his chair back sending it flying as he over turned the kitchen table.
“How come no one mentioned that they were suppose to be an arranged marriage until today? Let me and her get together and just never say anything all these years? How come he fucking knew but not her or I?” demanded Angel as Felipe restrained him against the fridge as you cried and you mom cowered behind your father.
“Boys like you deserve no explanation from men like me and your brother” spat your father as EZ just sat laughing before standing up and tossing some keys to the floor at Angels feet.
“Those are the keys to the trailer by the clubhouse. Effective in an hour that is where you live brother. This house and her are mine.” He stated before heading out of the kitchen.
Gillys House
Gilly and Coco sat in stunned silence as they listened to Angel go over what had happened earlier that day. The club had been dismantled to a degree. Bishop excommunicated and other brothers missing or had quit.
“She didn’t even say anything. I might as well hit the road. I don’t wanna see my girl getting dicked down and shit” stated Angel defeatedly as he slumped onto the table.
“Probably best she didn’t. The violence your brother showed earlier at the clubhouse can very easily be put on her.” Stated gilly as he exchanged a look with Coco.
“She loves ya too much to give up on you” offered Coco as he took a drag of his cigarette.
Next Day
“Stop” you screamed voice almost hoarse as you grabbed onto EZ’s leather. Trying your best to get him off Angel.  “Please EZ! I’m begging you. I’ll do anything please don’t hurt him!” you sobbed as he tossed you off him to the floor of the clubhouse.
This was your fault. If you had only held your tongue last night then EZ wouldn’t have beaten the shit out of you. Leaving you with bruises, cuts scrapes, a busted lip and black eye for Angel to get pissed about.
Panting EZ spun around on you making you skirt along the floor to get away. “Good girl. I knew you would see things my way” he growled as he yanked you up to him making you flinch. “Kiss me” he demanded in your ear as he gripped your neck. With tears in your eyes you did as he demanded as Angel watched from the floor.
For the next two months you pretended to be a good little wife. Keeping you and Angel safe from EZ wrath. You were lucky he was so distracted in gaining power that he didn’t pay much mind to your lack of letting him in your bed. He had tried but you had pushed back and a small part of him still wasn’t fully evil enough to just take what he wanted from your body.
Angel though didn’t see it that way though. In his mind you had moved on. Replacing him and giving up on the love and life the two of you had built. No reassurance from Gilly or Coco could make him see reason. No sneaked letter from you was read or when it was believed truly.
Present Day
Angel was sipping a beer as he sat on his patio overlooking the ocean. The crash of the rolling waves the only sound as he lay in his hammock. He had fled to Mexico a couple of weeks ago after a particularly bad blow up with his brother, the whole club was coming under fire and Angels loyalty had long ago left. Valuing his own life he had disappeared across the border with Coco, Letty and Gilly. Looking up at the clear night sky his mind drifted to you. Wondering if you were looking up at the same time. While he had given up on the idea of you two ever being able to reunite or that you still actually loved him he couldn’t help but ease into the comfort of old memories.
He still wore the ring. Bore the shared tattoos, had your photo as his background and framed portraits of you hung in his bungalow. He had managed to smuggle a poem you had wrote him out and your wedding album out  of the house as well as a shirt you had brought him and a pair of panties he had always kept in his leather. On the especially lonely nights after not being able to stomach bringing another woman to his bed. He would turn the lights down and use them to get off. His mind full of you as he talked out loud, moaning and calling your name.
Glancing at his watch Angel sighed before making his way inside. Calling it for the night as he tossed his bottle into the trash and turned out the lights. Angel had just drifted off when the knocking started. “What the fuck” he grumbled as he saw it was four in the morning. “Someone better be dead” he called as the knocking continued as he stumbled to the door. “What?” he snapped as he flung the door open.
“Hey” you murmured as you met his eyes. You watched as Angel went through every emotion. Irritation, shock and surprise to disbelieve and happiness. Within moments he had you pulled into the house slamming the door as he watched through the windows for anyone else.
“How?” he stated as he turned to you. You looked rough. Pale, hair a mess, makeup trialing down your cheeks as if you had been crying, dress torn to shreds and shoes missing.
You shook your head not sure how to be honest. “Someone shot EZ and then they dragged me into a van. I was blindfolded. Then a tunnel, it was dirt and wood. I remember a hospital? Then another van and then I got dropped off a couple blocks away and told to come here.”
“Why?” demanded Angel as he turned to you.
“Because I love you” you replied puzzled by the question. You were not a hundred percent sure what he was asking. Having known him for so long though you knew his mind would have been trying to paly tricks on him. That he would have talked himself into believing what your parents and EZ had said, That he was not worthy of you, that he could not provide for you and that you never truly loved him.
The silence between you two was loud as Angel took in those four words. Within seconds his lips were on yours as he pushed you against the wall. You parted your lips letting his tongue snake into your mouth as you moaned. Hands sliding down his bare chest to his boxers as his hands cupped your ass prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist.
“Pregnant” you mumbled as Angel quickly ripped your panties off, flingers sliding through your wet folds making you whine.
“What?” stated Angel as his fingers stilled inside you. His eyes searching yours as you cupped his face.
“We are pregnant Angel. I” you started before his lips were back on yours as he carried you to his bed. Tears spilling from his eyes as he laid you down before pulling back and caressing your stomach as his hands travelled to your dress. Bunching it up his eyes landing on his name above your mound before yanking his boxers down just enough to free his hardened length.
“I just need to be inside you mi amor. After this I’ll make love to every inch of your body like you deserve.” He murmured as he carefully pushed into your slick heat making you back arch. Angel kept your his hands firmly on your knees as he watched himself disappear into your depths before pulling back out his cock glistening with your arousal.
“Angel” you whimpered as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. The head of his cock dragging along that sweet spot over and over. Angel moved over you, caging you in with his arms as his mouth found yours. Sucking down every sweet moan as he kept up his pace. He groaned as yours hands scratched his back and pulled at his hair, urging him on until he was pouring himself deep within your soft walls.
“I thought I had lost you” you murmured as he lay on top of you. “I love you so much Angel. No one else holds anything to you” you continued as he kissed your forehead and gently wiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks.
“Shh. I know baby girl. I’m so sorry forever making you think I doubted the truth of your love. For leaving you behind, I will never forgive myself for that.” Murmured Angel as his tears mixed with yours.
A few months later
Angel was tearing home after his father’s call. His words still ringing in his ear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t kill him that night. He knows where she is and is coming for her”. Letting his bike crash into the driveway as he hopped off he took in the suv and bolted for the stairs just as he heard gunshots ring out. Taking the stairs three at a time he busted through the already broken door and slipped in a pool of blood, his own gun flying under the couch.
“No” he screamed as he crawled through the warm crimson river that flowed from around the corner. His eyes taking in the dark shape on the floor as tears poured down his face. Grabbing onto the arm he pulled you to him only to stop as he caught sight of movement by the nursery.
“I….I… killed…..” you stuttered as you dropped to your knees still holding the gun in both hands. Eyes wide as you gasped for breathe and your body trembled.
Angel glanced down at the empty eyes of EZ before slowly making his way to you. Once he had the gun out of your hands and the safety on he held you tightly to him as you sobbed. “It’ll be okay.” He soothed as he closed his eyes as your daughter started to cry. “We will all be okay” he continued as he heard the faint sounds of sirens.
The End
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dallianceangel · 1 year ago
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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 🐱👅💦
Here’s another random drabble for you, I hope you enjoy 😜
🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦
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“I’ve missed this.”
“You don’t say,” you chuckle loudly, currently bent over the pool table while Bishop slams in and out of you from behind. “We’ve only been apart for a day.”
Bishop laughs in your ear. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
A moan escapes your lips as he increases the pace, his thumb now circling your swollen clit. “It’s not, Obispo, but you could have at least said hello first.”
Sliding out of you, he turns you around, smiling at you before burying his head between your legs and spelling out Hello with his skilled tongue.
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imagininghim · 2 years ago
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Drunk Dialling
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A/N: I have heard the song Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan so much on Tik Tok lately. Everytime I hear it I picture Ez, so of course I had to make a story about it.
I hope you enjoy!
Like, comment, reblog!
~~ Flashback ~~
"Swear Ez, it's always the same with you!" She screamed at me, continuing to throw her clothes in a suitcase.
"Mi amour, please we can talk about this!" I said taking ahold of her wrist in attempt to stop her from packing.
"No! It's always the same with you! Club this, Angel that! When is it gonna be me?" She said pulling her wrist from my grasp. I stood there speechless, unsure of what to say. With a sigh, she threw the last of her clothes into the suitcase and zipped it up. "That's what I thought, goodbye Ezekiel." And with that, she picked up the suitcase and walked out the door.
I stayed there and watched her walk out, hoping I would wake up from this nightmare.
~~ End of flashback ~~
It was a regular Friday night at the club, we had been throwing another party. I was sitting at the bar alone, sipping on my fourth or fifth beer of the night when Angel approached me.
"When are you gonna stop sulking little bro? It's been a year, it's time to let her go." With a scoff, I picked up my beer and chugged the rest of it. Signalling the prospect to bring me another as Angel let out a sigh.
"I'm not sulking, I'm just not in a party kind of mood." I said simply.
"You're never in the mood for anything anymore. When are you gonna go back to being your old self again?" I scoffed back at him before taking my beer off the bar and making my way through the crowd. Hearing angel call my name, I ignored it and continued out through the door.
When I got outside, I took a seat on top of the stairs before chugging the rest of my beer and throwing away the empty bottle, the sound of glass shattering in the distance. I pulled my phone out of my jeans and began scrolling through my camera roll and looking at all the pictures of her and I.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the door open and Angel come out.
"You wanna talk about it?" He said, taking the seat beside me on the steps. With a sigh, I slip my phone back into my pocket.
"I miss her." Staring straight ahead, I could feel Angel's eyes on me.
"I know you do, but you can't beat yourself up over it. It's been a year, it's time to move on! Fuck some other bitches and forget her!" I felt anger begin to boil up inside as I stood up and made my down the steps.
"You don't get it!" I snapped. With a sigh, Angel stood up and made his way down the steps and in front of me.
"What don't I get Ez? Huh?!" He snapped back poking at my chest. "It's been a year Ez, she's not coming back! You made your choice, it was her or the club and I know it hurts but you gotta let her fucking go. Ever since she left, all you've been doing is drowning your sorrows in a goddamn bottle instead of moving on!" Anger ran through my veins as I pushed against Angel.
"I can't! Why can't you get that?!" I screamed back at him. "It's not that fucking easy, I love her! Not a goddamn day goes by that I don't see her face, I look for her everywhere I go! I didn't even try to stop her." I felt tears begin forming in my eyes, "I jus- I just let her go, I let her walk out." Angel stared at me in silence. "Why did I let her go?"
"Come on, let's go back inside and forget this." I shook my head before walking past him and over to the steps.
"You go on without me." I said taking a seat. "I'll be in later." Without taking another look at Angel, I heard him let out a sigh before making his way up the steps and back into the club.
As the door closed shut, I pulled out my phone and went into my contacts. Hauling up her contact, I hovered my finger over her number, contemplating on making that call.
Letting the alcohol speak for me, I pressed down on the screen before pulling the phone up to my ear and hearing it ring.
ring... ring... ring... "Hey you reached (Y/N), leave a message and I'll call you back!"
"... Uh, hey... It's Ez... I just wanted to say... I miss you." And with that I hung up the phone. I rubbed my hand over my face, wondering if I was making a mistake leaving her a voicemail. Would she even listen to it? Or would she delete it and pretend I never called?
A million thought swirled around my head as I sat on the steps, the feeling of little wet droplets falling on my skin tore me away from my thoughts.
I let out a sigh, standing up and getting ready to head back into the club when I felt a vibration in my pocket.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)" Flashed across my screen. I slid my finger across the screen, answering the call and placing it against my ear.
"Ez... I miss you too..."
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venactricisfics · 1 day ago
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Malibu Desert
Chapter Thirty-Five
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Adult Content 18+
Chapter List
“I can’t fucking believe you want to go do yoga with the cook and the prospect,” Angel said as I stepped out of my SUV in the clubhouse lot. 
“I can’t get you to do yoga with me,” I responded. 
“You’re damn right, querida. I’m not bending like a damn pretzel in front of these assholes,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against his bike.
I smirked, stretching my arms overhead just to tease him. “That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d be jealous enough to join.”
Angel scoffed, but his eyes lingered as I shrugged off my jacket. “Jealous? Please.”
“Uh-huh.” I gave him a knowing look before turning toward the shed. “See you after savasana, babe.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but I caught the way his gaze followed me, like he wasn’t as uninterested as he pretended to be.
“Have fun looking at fish,” I called back to him over my shoulder. 
“It’s too fucking early for this shit,” Angel muttered as he mounted his bike again and drove off with the rest of the club to pick up the supplies from the fish market. 
I leaned into my poses with my unlikely yoga companions. Bottles, a thick biker, and Elio, a fentanyl cook who didn’t speak English. Both were far more graceful than I gave them credit for. 
As we finished our session, I felt more relaxed and at ease with everything. Not that I was excited about what they were about to do inside the shed. But it wasn’t my place to stop them. 
“Be careful,” I told them. Cooking that shit was dangerous. I didn’t need the cryptic sign warning of death they set on the outside to tell me that. 
The truck rolled into the yard and the guys began unloading. Chemicals. Not my bag, so I headed into the clubhouse. 
“Nova,” EZ called to me, “Can you hook us up with another shipment?”
“I can try,” I told him, “but my uncle is gonna want payment for this one. Batting my lashes will only get me so far.” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you,” he responded. 
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, “No promises.” 
“Thanks,” he said. 
I nodded and headed toward the bar, shaking off the weight of the conversation. My uncle wasn’t the kind of man who gave out favors, and I wasn’t in the mood to owe him more than I already did. But business was business, and if EZ needed a shipment, I’d see what strings I could pull.
Nestor slid a bottle of water across the bar. I twisted off the cap and took a long drink. “Thanks.”
He quirked a brow. “Yoga?”
I smirked. “I know, very LA of me. The cook’s surprisingly flexible.”
“Gotta be,” he replied. “Probably from trying not to die every time he steps in that shed.”
The clubhouse door swung open, and Angel walked in with the rest of the MC. A heaviness clung to them, their expressions set in stone. Whatever went down, they were already over it.
I started to ask, “What’s wrong, ba—” but caught myself as Bishop strode past, settling at a table on the other side of the room. I cleared my throat. “What’s wrong, Angel?”
It wasn’t the time to broadcast whatever this thing between us was. But we both knew—it was something.
Angel tugged at his kutte with a scowl. “Fish smell’s in my goddamn clothes.”
I leaned in, dropping my voice just for him. “Guess I’m sleeping alone tonight, then.”
“Like hell you are,” he shot back, grabbing a beer from behind the bar. “You’re stuck with me, stench and all.”
The clubhouse door swung open again, and Bottles ran in, panicked. “Oh fuck, fuck.”
He grabbed a handful of rags from behind the bar, then caught my arm. His grip was tight, desperate. “Lobo needs your help.”
My stomach dropped. “What’s going on?” I tried to keep my voice steady, tried to ground him.
“He got into the fentanyl,” he said. “He’s dying.”
“Fuck.” I didn’t waste another second. “Let me get my bag.”
I bolted outside, heart hammering. Sofia—EZ’s new girlfriend—was already there, turning Lobo on his side to keep him from choking on his own vomit. Her hands shook, but she held firm.
I yanked my bag from the car, pulling out a syringe filled with Narcan as I slipped on gloves. Dropping to my knees beside him, I jabbed the needle into his thigh.
His face was already turning blue. He wasn’t breathing.
I pressed my hands to his chest and started compressions. “Come on,” I muttered under my breath, counting out each push.
“Where are the paramedics?” Sofia shouted. She was frantic now. “Is anyone coming? Someone fucking call 911!”
The others just stood there, watching, frozen as their brother slipped away.
I kept going—one, two, three, four—until my arms ached. Until I knew.
I stopped. My hands hovered over his chest.
He’d been down too long.
He was gone.
Sofia stormed past EZ, her face twisted in fury. No one had done a damn thing to save Lobo, and now he was dead. Neither of us knew him well—he was just another guy, another body in the mix. But that didn’t make it any less fucking senseless. He died because of his own stupidity. And because the club was too scared to call for help.
“What the fuck happened?” EZ demanded, his voice tight as he turned to Bottles.
“I don’t know, man,” Bottles stammered. “We just came back and found him like that.”
“There’s a sign,” Guero muttered, his jaw clenched. “A fucking sign right there. Dumbass didn’t listen.”
“He must’ve touched something,” Bottles said, his voice uncertain. “Or—breathed it in.”
“Breathed?” Angel snapped. “We gotta worry about breathing that shit in? Should we even be standing here right now?” He motioned toward the shed, his unease spilling into anger.
“Our brother’s lying on the fucking ground right here,” Bishop cut in, his voice even but sharp.
“We can’t stop now,” EZ muttered.
Angel scoffed. “What do you mean, we can’t stop?” He gestured at Lobo’s body. “Yo, man, look at this shit. How the fuck are we supposed to win a war when we ain’t even safe in our own fucking club?”
“Nowhere’s safe with this shit,” Gilly added grimly.
“You’re all worried about one?” EZ snapped, his voice rising. “If we don’t make good on this deal, we’ve killed everyone here.”
Bishop stepped up to him, his presence solid, unwavering. “We need to get this shit off the premises. Now.”
EZ clenched his jaw, then turned abruptly, striding toward his bike.
“Hey, where the fuck you going?” Angel called after him. “EZ!”
But EZ didn’t answer. He just gunned the engine and rode off.
I exhaled sharply and glanced down at Lobo’s still body. My chest felt tight. “Can someone cover him up?” I muttered. “Until you figure out what the fuck you’re doing.”
Guero nodded and pulled a sheet from the shed, draping it over the corpse.
“It’s in Spanish,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone.
“Huh?” Guero looked at me like I’d lost it.
“The sign,” I said, my gaze locked on Lobo’s covered body. “Could he even read Spanish?”
—---
"Can you come with us?" EZ asked as the last of the chemicals were loaded into the box truck.
I exhaled, shaking my head. "I shouldn’t be involved in this."
"The club we’re working with—" he paused, choosing his words carefully. "I think they’ll be more receptive if you’re there."
I sighed, already regretting my decision as I nodded. "Fine. You fucking Reyes brothers always manage to get me to do what you want."
"Must be our charm," he said with a smirk.
"Yeah, I doubt that," I muttered, climbing into the truck with Nester and the cook.
We hit the highway toward the Salton Sea, the ride long and quiet. But as we got closer, the rumble of motorcycles broke the silence. A pack of bikers flanked us—women bikers. I watched them, captivated.
Their presence alone was commanding, and it wasn’t just because they were women. They carried themselves like they knew exactly who they were and dared anyone to challenge it.
I leaned forward slightly, watching as one of them pulled ahead of the truck, signaling for us to follow. “Who the fuck are they?” I muttered.
“The Broken Saints,” Nestor said.
I raised a brow. “Never heard of them.”
“They keep it that way,” he said. “Small. Tight-knit. Smart.”
I glanced at the cook, but he just kept his head down, focused on whatever was running through his mind. Probably the deal. Probably the risk.
As we turned off the main road onto a dirt path leading toward the water, I felt the weight of the decision I’d made settling in my chest. I didn’t belong in this. I wasn’t a Mayan. But here I was, in the thick of it.
One of the women slowed her bike until she was riding right next to my window. She turned her head slightly, dark eyes locking onto mine. Assessing.
I didn’t look away.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips before she revved her engine and sped ahead.
Yeah. This was about to get interesting.
The guys unloaded the crates of guns and the chemicals. 
The cook stopped Downer, “Bottles?”
“He had to stay back and watch the clubhouse,” Downer told him.
“Bottles?” he asked again, not quite understanding. 
“Bottles not here, man,” Downer spoke slower. Like that was going to make him understand.
“Por favor dile que él y yo somos amigos,” the cook said. (Please tell him that he and I are friends.)
Downer didn’t understand and just said, “Whatever, man.” 
“You don’t speak Spanish?” I asked. 
“I’m Puerto Rican and grew up in Philly,” Downer responded. “Never had to speak Spanish.”
“Your mother should be ashamed,” I told him, then turned to the cook, “Le diré que estás bien aquí. Eh... que su amigo es bueno.” (I’ll tell him you’re good here… that his friend is good here)  
The cook nodded, looking relieved, though his expression remained wary as he glanced around at the unfamiliar faces. I wondered how deep his ties ran with Bottles—if it was just the bond of working together or something more.
“Gracias,” he muttered, shifting his weight.
Downer just shook his head. “Man, I didn’t sign up for a Spanish lesson today.”
I smirked. “Maybe you should’ve.”
He scoffed, grabbing one of the crates and moving toward the others. The Broken Saints stood nearby, watching everything with quiet intensity. They weren’t just observing; they were calculating.
One of them, the same woman who had assessed me earlier, finally spoke. “You always clean up the Mayans’ messes?”
I turned to her, meeting her gaze head-on. “Only when I have to.”
She tilted her head slightly, considering me. “That why you’re here?”
I exhaled, crossing my arms. “I’m here because I don’t like owing people favors.”
Her lips curved in amusement. “Then you’re in the wrong business.”
She wasn’t wrong.
—---
“You get him down?” I asked Angel as he sat on the bed beside me. 
“Finally,” he said, “I just can’t believe she’s gone. That she left, again. That she left him.”
When we came home from the club business, Louisa wasn’t there. Her bags weren’t there—just Felipe and Maverick. 
“I’m sorry, Angel,” I told him, “I don’t know what kind of demons she was facing, but it couldn’t have been easy for her to go.” 
Angel let out a slow breath, staring down at his hands. “I should’ve seen it coming. She was slipping. I knew it, but I—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.
“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” I said softly.
His jaw clenched. “Yeah? Tell that to my kid.”
I reached over, resting my hand on his arm. “You’re here. That’s what matters. He’s got you.”
Angel turned his head, eyes meeting mine. There was pain there, buried deep beneath frustration and guilt, but there was something else, too—a quiet sort of gratitude.
He exhaled, leaning back against the headboard. “Shit, man. What the hell do I do now?”
“You do what you’ve always done,” I told him. “You fight for him.”
He nodded, pulling me to his chest. I wrapped my arms around him, holding on, trying to take as much of his pain as he’d let me. 
Angel’s grip tightened around me, his body tense but somehow grounding. His heartbeat was steady against my ear, a rhythm I could cling to as if it might pull him back from the edge. I stayed quiet, not needing words, just offering what comfort I could in that moment.
His breath slowed after a while, his muscles relaxing as he settled into the embrace. “I didn’t know what to do without her,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Now I don’t know what the hell to do with him either.”
“You take it one day at a time,” I murmured. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”
He nodded again, his hand resting at the back of my neck, holding me close. I could feel the weight of his sorrow, but I could also feel the strength in him—the strength he didn’t always know he had.
“You’re not alone in this,” I reminded him softly. “You’ve got me. You’ve got the club. You’ve got your dad.”
For a long time, we just stayed like that, wrapped up in each other’s presence, letting the silence speak louder than anything we could say.
—---
“You ok?” I asked Angel as he came out of Templo. The other guys were laughing it up. Downer was thumbing through a wad of cash. The others stuffed rolls of money in their kuttes. But Angel didn’t hold that same enthusiasm. 
“He won’t fucking stop,” Angel muttered, “I can’t get them to see that this shit will fuck us up. It’s already fucked us up.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “EZ?”
Angel scoffed, running a hand down his face. “Who else?” His jaw tightened. “I told him we needed to slow down, that this shit is getting out of control, and all he sees is the fucking payday.”
I glanced at the others, their energy high, the weight of what just happened seemingly lost on them. “They’re only seeing the money.”
“Yeah,” Angel muttered. “They don’t see Lobo. They don’t see how close we were to a bigger fucking problem.”
I reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “So what do we do?”
Angel exhaled sharply. “I don’t know. But I can’t keep doing this shit. Not like this.” His dark eyes met mine, a storm of frustration and something else swirling behind them. “I’m tired of trying to talk sense into people who don’t wanna listen.”
I nodded, understanding the weight of it. The club wasn’t just a family—it was a machine. And once it started rolling, stopping it wasn’t easy.
“Then maybe it’s time to figure out another way,” I said.
His fingers tightened around mine for a second before he let go, shaking his head. “Yeah. Maybe.” But I could tell he didn’t believe it. Not yet.
“Talk to his girl,” I told him. “Maybe if you convince her, she can convince him. You saw her face with Lobo.”
He nodded. “It’s fucked. But I’ll talk to her.”
—-  
I sat at the bar in the clubhouse, absently tracing the rim of an empty glass as I waited. The guys were meeting with the Sons, trying to broker peace—trying to end the war before it swallowed us whole. Or worse, walking straight into a setup. The thought gnawed at me, a slow, uneasy burn in my gut.
Cielo wiped down the counter, glancing up at me. “Beer?” she asked. “Or something stronger?”
“Beer,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even. “At least until I know they’re okay.”
She nodded, popping the cap off a bottle and sliding it my way. “They’ll be fine.”
I wished I shared her confidence. But until I saw them walk through that door, I wasn’t betting on anything.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding the moment I heard the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the yard. My fingers, which had been gripping the bottle a little too tightly, finally loosened. I didn’t move right away—didn’t let myself believe it until I saw them walk through the door, unharmed. Only then did the tension in my shoulders ease.
They had won this round. This battle, at least. But peace? That was still a pipe dream. The Sons hadn’t agreed to a truce, and truth be told, neither had the Mayans. But you wouldn’t have known that from the way the guys carried themselves, the way they knocked back drinks like they had just come back from some great victory.
Bishop, already a few shots deep, was the first to give me the real story. He slung an arm over my shoulder, his breath warm and heavy with tequila. “You shoulda seen him, querida,” he slurred, eyes unfocused but full of amusement. “Big-ass fucking albino gorilla-looking motherfucker. I swear to God, it was like David and motherfucking Goliath.”
I raised a brow, waiting for the punchline.
“But our boy,” he continued, gesturing toward EZ, who was nursing a beer across the room, “motherfucking EZ knocked him the fuck out. Left his goddamn brains smeared on the floor.”
I glanced over at EZ, who barely reacted to the praise. Just took another sip, eyes distant, like he was already thinking ten steps ahead. Bishop, on the other hand, laughed like it was the greatest thing he’d ever seen, ordering another round like they’d just won the whole war.
But I knew better.
This wasn’t the end. Not even close.
Angel was the only one who wasn’t entirely swept up in the celebration. While the others laughed and drank like they’d won something real, he sat back, quieter, watching it all unfold with that tight, unreadable expression. Like he knew the truth—this wasn’t the end of the war. It was just the beginning.
I stepped up beside him, keeping my voice low. “Hey,” I said, nudging his arm lightly. “You wanna get outta here?”
His jaw tensed for a second, like he was debating it. Then he exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “More than fucking anything,” he muttered.
I didn’t wait for him to change his mind. I just grabbed my jacket and led the way, stepping out into the cool night air before the weight of the clubhouse could pull him back in.
“Maverick’s at your Pop’s house,” I told him.
Angel sighed, his fingers twitching like he wanted a cigarette but didn’t have one. “He’s probably already asleep,” he muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion. “I hate that I missed that… all this bullshit, and I can’t even put my kid to bed.”
I leaned against my SUV, watching him wrestle with it. “You want me to pick him up on the way back?” I asked. “Your place or mine?”
He looked down at me, a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Why would you want to crash at my place when yours is all plush and comfortable?”
I shrugged, meeting his gaze. “I want to crash wherever you are.”
His breath hitched just slightly, and for a moment, the weight of the night seemed to ease off his shoulders. Then, with a small shake of his head, he opened the door for me. “Let’s go.” 
I parked outside of Felipe’s house so Angel could go inside and get Maverick. I smiled as I watched him strap his son into the car seat.
“So, where are we heading?” 
“Yours,” he said. 
I nodded, shifting the SUV into drive as Angel settled into the passenger seat. He glanced back at Maverick, brushing a hand over his son’s hair before facing forward with a quiet sigh.
The ride was mostly silent, the hum of the engine and the occasional rustling from Maverick the only sounds filling the space. Angel sat with his elbow propped against the window, eyes distant, lost in whatever storm was brewing inside him.
“You good?” I asked after a while, keeping my eyes on the road.
He exhaled a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t even know what good is anymore.”
I reached over, resting a hand on his thigh. “Well… you’re here. You’re with him. That’s something, right?”
He glanced at me, then back at Maverick, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s something.”
I leaned against the doorframe, watching as Angel carefully settled Maverick into his crib. His touch was gentle, smoothing down the baby’s blanket before brushing a hand over his son’s hair. Even in the dim light, I could see the weight he carried, the exhaustion settling deep in his bones.
“You know,” I murmured, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t wake Maverick, “I can set up a nursery here for him.”
Angel glanced at me over his shoulder.
“That way, you always have a place for him when you want to have a sleepover with me.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned to face me fully. “Sleepover? That what you’re calling this?”
I shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. “I mean, we’re not fourteen, but you are sleeping over,” I teased, trailing a finger down the front of his kutte, “and there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.”
His smirk deepened as he reached for me, his hands finding my hips. “That so?”
I grinned. “Mmhmm. Pretty sure it’s a rule.”
Angel chuckled lowly, pulling me against him. “Then I guess we better not break it.”
I let out a soft laugh, my hands instinctively sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt. He smelled like leather and faintly of motor oil, a scent that was uniquely him. It was intoxicating, and I found myself leaning into it, craving more.
His lips met mine in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hands tightening their grip on my hips. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against mine, and I felt a familiar heat begin to pool low in my belly. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned softly against my mouth.
“Angel,” I whispered, breaking the kiss just enough to speak. His name came out breathless, and I could feel his lips curve into a smile against mine.
“Yeah, baby?” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
I guided him down the hall,  I reached up to slide his kutte off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. His hands moved to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one swift motion. The cool air hit my skin, but it did nothing to quell the fire raging inside me.
Angel’s gaze darkened as he took me in, his fingers skimming over my bare skin with a touch that sent a shiver down my spine. His hands, rough and calloused, traced the curve of my waist before settling on my hips, pulling me flush against him. His heat, his scent, the way his eyes burned into mine—it was almost too much, and yet not enough at the same time.
I reached for the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly as my pulse thundered in my ears. He smirked, watching me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “Getting impatient, querida?”
“Maybe,” I admitted, popping open the last button and pushing his shirt off his shoulders.
He hummed in amusement, but the sound melted into something darker when I ran my nails down his chest. His muscles tensed beneath my touch, his breathing uneven as he backed me up against the bedroom door.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he muttered, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of my neck before trailing lower.
His thumbs brushed over my nipples, and I gasped, my head falling back as a wave of pleasure crashed over me.
“Angel,” I moaned again, my voice barely above a whisper. He leaned down, his mouth closing over one hardened peak, and I let out a low, keening sound. His tongue worked magic, swirling and teasing until I was squirming in his arms.
“Too many clothes,” I managed to say, my hands immediately went to the buckle of his belt, fumbling slightly in my haste.
“Easy, baby,” he murmured, taking my hands in his and slowing my movements. “We’ve got all night.”
I looked up at him, my eyes wide and pleading. “I don’t want to wait.”
He groaned, his forehead resting against mine. “You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop me as I undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. They slid down his hips, pooling at his feet, and I stepped back just enough to take him in.
He was magnificent, his body sculpted from years of hard work and riding. My fingers traced the lines of his abs, dipping into the faint trail of hair that led to his cock, already hard and straining against his boxers. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and letting them join the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my eyes locked on his cock. It was thick and heavy, the tip already glistening. I licked my lips, my mouth watering at the thought of him.
“You gonna stare all night?” he teased, his voice low and husky.
I looked up at him, a sly smile spreading across my face. “Maybe,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of him. His eyes widened, a low groan escaping his lips as I took him into my hand, stroking him slowly.
“Fuck, princesa,” he muttered, his hands tangling in my hair as I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste him. I moaned softly at the salty tang of him, my lips wrapping around the head of his cock as I took him into my mouth.
“Shit,” he hissed, his hips bucking slightly as I began to move. I took my time, savoring every inch of him, my tongue swirling around the sensitive head before taking him deeper. His hands tightened in my hair, guiding me as I bobbed my head, my moans vibrating around him.
“Angel,” I whimpered, my fingers digging into his thighs as I took him deeper, my throat relaxing to accommodate him. He groaned, his hips thrusting forward slightly, and I could feel him hitting the back of my throat. I gagged slightly, but I didn’t pull away, my eyes watering as I continued to work him.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” he muttered, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. I could feel him trembling, his thighs quivering under my hands as I sucked him harder, my tongue pressing against the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock.
“I’m close,” he warned, his hands tightening in my hair. I moaned around him, urging him on, and with a low growl, he came, his cock pulsing in my mouth as he spilled himself down my throat. I swallowed every drop, my lips still wrapped around him as he gradually softened.
“Fuck,” he muttered again, his breathing heavy as I finally pulled away. I looked up at him, a satisfied smile on my face as I licked my lips. He chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled me to my feet.
He cupped my face, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek before tilting my chin up. His lips crashed into mine, deep and possessive, tasting himself on my tongue. It sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me, making me press closer, needing more.
"You’re fucking dangerous," he muttered against my lips, his voice still rough with pleasure.
I smirked, running my hands down his chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin. "Guess you’ll just have to keep me in line then."
His chuckle was dark, laced with something else—something that made my stomach twist in anticipation. "Oh, I plan to."
Without warning, he lifted me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the bed. The mattress dipped as he laid me down, his hands already working at the waistband of my shorts, dragging them down my legs along with my panties.
His eyes roamed over me, devouring every inch like he was committing me to memory. "Fucking perfect," he murmured, his fingers skimming up my thighs before parting them.
I gasped, my back arching as he teased me, his touch featherlight but electric. He took his time, tracing circles, building the anticipation until I was writhing beneath him.
"Angel, please," I breathed, my voice trembling with need.
He grinned, slow and wicked, before leaning down and pressing a kiss against the inside of my thigh. "I told you, baby," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "We’ve got all night."
His hands were everywhere, cupping my breasts, thumbing my nipples until they peaked under his touch. He leaned down, his tongue flicking over one hardened bud, and I moaned, arching into his mouth. “Angel,” I whispered, my voice trembling as he lavished attention on my breast, his tongue circling and teasing until I was squirming beneath him.
He chuckled, low and deep, the sound vibrating against my skin. “So sensitive,” he teased, his lips brushing against my ear. “I love it.” His hands slid down my sides, gripping my hips as he kissed a path down my stomach. His tongue dipped into my navel, and I laughed breathlessly, squirming under the tickling sensation.
But then he was moving lower, his hands pushing my thighs apart as he settled between them. 
He leaned in, his breath hot against my core, and I shuddered, my hands gripping the sheets as his tongue flicked over my clit. “Oh God,” I moaned, my hips lifting off the bed as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe up my folds. He groaned, the sound sending a jolt of heat through me, as he buried his face between my thighs.
His tongue was relentless, circling my clit before plunging into me, and I cried out, my fingers tightening in his hair. He gripped my hips, holding me still as he devoured me, his tongue teasing and stroking until I was trembling on the edge.
“Angel, please,” I begged, my voice breaking as he sucked my clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. He hummed against me, the vibration sending sparks shooting through my body, and I came apart, my orgasm crashing over me in waves.
But he didn’t let up, his tongue continuing to work me through the aftershocks until I was gasping for air, my body writhing beneath him. “Too much,” I whispered, my hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but he only chuckled, his breath hot against my oversensitive flesh.
“Not enough,” he growled, his hands sliding up my thighs to grip my hips. “I want more.” His lips found my clit again, and I whimpered, my back arching as he sucked gently, his tongue teasing the sensitive bud until I was squirming beneath him.
“Angel,” I moaned, my voice trembling as he slid two fingers into me, crooking them just right to hit that spot deep inside. “Please,” I begged, my hands gripping the sheets as he thrust his fingers in and out, his tongue still working my clit.
He growled against me, his breath hot as he added a third finger, stretching me until I was gasping for air. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, his voice rough with need. “You feel so good, princesa.”
My hips rocked against his hand, my body moving on instinct as he worked me closer and closer to the edge. His tongue flicked over my clit, and I cried out, my orgasm building again, hotter and more intense than before.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my clit. His fingers thrust deep, and I shattered, my body convulsing as my orgasm ripped through me. He didn’t let up, his tongue and fingers driving me higher and higher until I was sobbing his name, my body trembling with pleasure.
His grip tightened on my thighs as he held me open for him, his tongue relentless as he drew out every last tremor of pleasure from my body. My skin burned under his touch, every nerve electrified, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I tried to ground myself in the sensation of him. But he wouldn’t let me come down—not yet.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he muttered, his voice husky as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the inside of my thigh. “Could stay down here all night.”
I whimpered, my body still thrumming from the intensity of my release. My fingers twisted in his hair, pulling slightly, not sure if I was trying to push him away or keep him right where he was.
“Angel,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, my legs trembling as his fingers traced lazy circles over my slick folds. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he interrupted, his lips brushing against my inner thigh before he lifted his head to meet my gaze. His dark eyes were blown wide with hunger, his expression pure, unfiltered desire. “One more for me, princesa.”
I shook my head weakly, but my body betrayed me, arching as he slid his fingers back inside me, slow and deliberate, stretching me with each thrust. His mouth followed, his tongue finding my clit again, flicking, teasing, until the pleasure began to mount all over again.
I gasped, my back bowing off the bed, my thighs trembling as the pressure coiled deep in my belly. He worked me with precision, his fingers curving just right inside me, his tongue never ceasing its wicked torment.
“Fuck, Angel,” I sobbed, my hands gripping the sheets, pulling them tight in my fists as I felt myself spiral toward the edge once more.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice like gravel against my skin. “Let go, baby.”
Pleasure exploded through me, hotter, sharper than before, my body shaking as I came apart beneath him. He groaned against me, drinking in every last drop of my release, his hands holding me steady as I writhed in his grasp.
When I finally sagged against the mattress, spent and breathless, he pressed a final kiss to my thigh before moving up my body, his weight settling between my legs. His cock, hard and heavy, pressed against my still-sensitive core, and I shuddered at the sensation.
His lips found mine, his kiss slow and deep, and I tasted myself on his tongue.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, his forehead resting against mine.
I let out a shaky breath, nodding as I curled my arms around his neck. “I need you,” I whispered, my voice barely there, but I knew he heard me.
He groaned, his fingers threading into my hair as he kissed me again, harder this time, more demanding. “Then take me, baby,” he rasped, guiding himself to my entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against my slick heat.
I gasped, my nails digging into his back as he pushed inside, stretching me inch by inch.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his jaw clenching as he fought to go slow. “You feel so fucking good.”
I couldn’t speak—I could barely breathe. He filled me completely, every inch of him pressing deep until there was nowhere left to go.
He stilled, his breath ragged as he let me adjust, his lips brushing over my temple, my cheek, my jaw.
Then, when I rocked my hips against him, he growled low in his throat and pulled back before slamming into me again, claiming me completely.
I moaned, my head falling back as he drove into me, each thrust deep and deliberate, igniting a fire that burned through every inch of me. His lips found my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he kissed and nibbled his way down my throat, sending shivers cascading through my body.
“Angel,” I whispered, my fingers trailing down his back before gripping his ass, pulling him deeper, needing more.
He groaned, the sound rough and needy, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself inside me. My cry filled the room, my nails digging into his skin as pleasure coiled tight in my belly. His mouth claimed mine, the kiss desperate and consuming, his body moving with a raw, unrelenting intensity that shattered my control.
“Princesa,” he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure as he thrust harder, hitting that devastating spot deep inside me. “I’m not gonna last.”
“Me either,” I gasped, my body clenching around him, the pressure building to a fever pitch.
He groaned, his pace relentless as he pushed me over the edge, the pleasure white-hot and all-consuming. My release tore through me, leaving me trembling beneath him as he followed, his body shuddering, his breath ragged against my skin.
He collapsed against me, his lips pressing lazy, reverent kisses along my collarbone as he caught his breath. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his touch impossibly tender.
I smiled, cupping his cheek as I kissed him softly. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I teased.
He groaned, shaking his head before capturing my lips again, the heat between us far from over.
3 notes · View notes
zaenight · 2 years ago
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●°●°CRAZY BUT SHE'S MINE°●°●
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●°●Camila "Jackie" vincent●°●
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●°●Iliana "losa" Reyes●°●
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●°●Esmae "Marisol" Reyes●°●
●°●NOW COMPLETED●°●
CAMILA "JACKIE" VINCENT X EZEKIEL "EZ" REYES
°●°●°THE REYES FAMILIA°●°●°
34 notes · View notes
bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago
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Mount Shasta: Che 'Taza' Romero (NSFW)
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Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Blizzard/Snowed In!
Warnings: M/M - NSFW
Tagging: @drabbles-mc @ficnation @keyweegirlie @@aconfusedidentity @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx
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It’s snowing outside, it’s been snowing for the past couple of days now. A blizzard, Taza calls it and Ben laughs because he’s survived a couple of Chicago winters and one in North Cali doesn’t quite compare.
The two of them are sequestered in a cabin up in Mount Shasta. It’s a spiritual place, one filled with myths and legends, ones that tie back to Taza and his heritage. It’s a place that he’s always wanted to visit but has never had the opportunity to until now.
Ben had booked it as a surprise for their one-year anniversary, Taza can’t believe that it’s been that long. He’s spent the best part of his life alone, hiding the reality of who he was and now he has a loving partner, one that the club accepts as a member of their own weird little family. For the first time in his life, he feels blessed, especially right now as he makes love to Ben in a California King with a set of French windows that overlook the snow covered forest.
It's beautiful how fucked out Ben looks underneath him; his skin is flushed with that pretty apricot hue he always gets when he’s right on the edge. His thighs tighten around Ben’s hips, taking his lover even deeper and Ben’s breathing hitches once again. His hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around Taza’s cock, jerking it slowly as Taza rocks languidly.
“Fuck Che.” Ben whispers, his head tipping back into the pillow as the euphoria rises up inside of him. “Fuck.”
He loves doing this to Ben, ruining him, drawing it out. His hand comes to rest on Ben’s, stilling his motions before their fingers entwine and he pins it to the mattress above his head. His lips brush over Ben’s, his thumb ghosting over the curve of his cheek.
“Not yet my love.” He murmurs, smiling into Ben’s mouth. “I haven’t thanked you enough yet.”
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hennyjwrites · 9 months ago
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Manny Mayans whispering in your ear with that deeeeeep raspy voice of his that he knows is your weakness and telling you “you gotta be quiet for me querida, can you do that for papi” because y’all doin it where you’re most definitely not supposed to 🤭🤭
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One thing that many lacked that could get him killed was his lack of self restraint. Especially for you. Manny couldn’t resist you even in the worst moment. He aimed to please you, no matter where.
Manny had you pressed against the bathroom wall of your parents house, hand covering your mouth and he pressed his body weight on top of yours. You were spending the weekend here, letting them spend some extra time with their grandbabies. Manny knew this would top the layer of disrespect if they were to find out he had you wrapped around his dick on a random Friday afternoon, but he couldn’t help himself.
Manny let you down but you didn’t get to go nowhere as he immediately pressed you to the sink. He bent your body down but pulled your head up by the braids in your hair. “I want to see that pretty face.” He groaned, voice low and deep. His voice let you know he was in the mood to fuck your shit up but he couldn’t or so you thought.
Manny stared at you in the mirror as he gave you that first body moving thrust. Your mouth dropped open and a small moan left it. He did it again and again and again. Hard stroke after hard stroke, plummeting your soft pussy. It felt like each stroke was pushing you to your breaking point. You didn’t even peep that your small moans were getting louder until he grabbed your throat. He pulled you back into him, your back connecting to his chest. “Shh. You know you can’t be making allat noise.” He held his hand back over your mouth as he thrusted you again this time harder and faster. “Be quiet for me querida, can you do that for papi?” You nodded you head not even paying attention to what he said,
He kept you close and quiet as he finished you off, pushing you back down to the sink as his nut came, finishing on your ass cheek. “Fuck this pussy good.” His voice was low as he spread your ass cheek to see the damage he’s done. “Damn mami, you're dripping on these folks' nice floor.” He laughed. You whined when he trailed a finger through your wetness. Manny looked over your body again with a stone cold face. He couldn’t resist himself as he got hard again.
“Aye mami, you think you can stay quiet again?”
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cregansgf · 10 months ago
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Bad Idea {E.R}
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Warnings: slight smut?! shitty Ez and shitting writing. Cheating (don’t)
bff reader x bff ez
“Fuck.” Ez muttered when his phone started ringing. He kept his pace hearing Y/n let out a moan reaching for his phone. When he looked at the name on his screen he immediately stopped his movements.
“What the fuck?” Y/n mumbled earning a look from him.
He answered the phone his tone completely changing “Hey”
Y/n could hear a girl on the other end asking him if he was busy. “No.” He replied resulting in the girl asking him to come over. He immediately agreed hanging up.
He looked down at Y/n for a moment before he pulled out of her muttering a small “Club needs me.” And quickly putting on his clothes and leaving.
She watched the door slam behind him waiting to hear the sound of his bike roaring to life before letting her tears fall.
“I should have known this was a bad idea.”
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ravennaortiz · 2 months ago
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2/22:Accidentally married with Coco requested by Anon As always 18+
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You groaned as you rolled over, tossing an arm over your eyes to keep the blinding light out. Your head pounded and you felt nauseous and sweaty. The pounding that you thought was in your head got louder as did the sound of voices. A shift in the bed next to you and angry muttering from a voice you didn’t recognize had you yanking your arm off your eyes and bolting up in the bed. The naked back of a man you didn’t know was the only thing you caught before your eyes started to dart around the room.
You just had a sheet on and your skin was littered in hickeys and bite marks. Your white wedding gown stained and tossed to the far side. Bottles of beer and champagne littered the floor. Your veil was still in your hair that was caked in sweat and your makeup had streaked the pillow and run all over your face. Your engagement ring was gone replaced with a huge diamond. Swallowing hard you scrambled out of the bed clutching the sheet as you stumbled to the door way of the bedroom following the sound of voices. The last thing you saw was a sign that read Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Cruz. Who the fuck are the Cruz’s you thought as you tried to recollect anything that had happened.
Coco was rubbing his face as he sat on the couch listening to Angel, EZ and Gilly tell him what had happened since they got to Vegas. What he thought had been a fever dream had actually been real. It also explained the gorgeous woman he had woken up to wrapped around him, her hand still wrapped around his cock. Apparently they had met a runaway bride as Gilly described her at the bar and she had been crying. Coco had went over to check out if she was okay and they had talked and drank for awhile before he brought her over to the rest of them. The group had drank and made their way around the strip until coming upon a chapel where the two were married.
“Hi” you murmured a bit self-conscious in the sheet as you looked over the group in the living room area.
The guys all said hello as Coco stood and made his way over.
“Are you and I married?” you whispered as you caught sight of a tattoo that said Cruz as hazy memories of this man between your legs popped into your head.
“Yeah, if you” started Coco before you shook your head and pushed a finger to his lips silencing him.
“Tell your friends to leave so you can come fuck me properly now that were not drunk and I can remember it better” you replied with a grin before disappearing back down the hall letting the sheet drop as you did.
Fuck thought Coco as he felt himself harden. Turning back to the guys he cleared his throat. “Wifey said yall need to leave. Have a good day” he stated before darting down the hall to the bedroom as the other three chuckled and stood up.
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dallianceangel · 8 months ago
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𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 🌅🥵
Some more Mayans fics will be posted soon 🫦
🦋 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🦋
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You’re cuddled up with Bishop in bed on a Saturday morning, feeling something hard press against your exposed back. Excitement stirs, thinking you’re about to have another round with him. It’s just past 7AM, and he’s managed to make you cum three times already. You’ve only been awake for an hour.
Suddenly, the hard object vibrates, making you jump out of your skin. You turn to Bishop, eyes wide. “I thought that was a boner!”
Bishop chuckles, turning his phone on silent before pulling you closer towards him. “No, this is a boner.”
He places your hand on the hard bulge, gazing at you hungrily. “Feel that, babe?”
You nod as you squirm, desperate to feel him inside you again. “Fuck me, Obispo.”
He kisses you deeply, his hands exploring. “With fucking pleasure.”
You lay down on your back, spreading your legs, gasping when he slowly enters you. It’s not long before he’s got you crying out his name and gushing all over him again, loud enough for the new neighbours to hear, making them wish they never moved in next door.
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venactricisfics · 4 days ago
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Malibu Desert
Chapter Thirty-Four
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chapters
Adult Content 18 +
I rubbed my eyes awake, still fully clothed in Angel's bed—a far cry from our usual routine. I rolled over, nestling into his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out on you,” I murmured, my fingertips tracing lazy circles on his skin.
“It’s alright, princesa,” he groaned, running his fingers through my copper locks. “My dick needed a day to recover.”
“Recover, from what?” I lifted my head, giving him a questioning look.
“Fucking attack dog,” he groaned, clearly reliving the memory.
“Wait, hold up… I think I need more of that story,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow.
“EZ took us to meet with this chick biker crew,” he began, his voice laced with amusement. “They’ve got guard dogs. One of them took his job a little too seriously and bit down on my junk.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Damn. Do you need me to take a look? Make sure everything’s still intact down there?”
He chuckled, his hand moving to my lower back. “You can examine my dick anytime, Malibu.”
“Well, it is my second favorite part of you,” I said, letting my hand trail down his chest and over his stomach, fingers hooking into the fabric of his boxers. 
“Only your second favorite?” he asked eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Your lips and tongue top the list,” I said. 
He smirked, his eyes darkening with the playful challenge. “Oh, really? Guess I’ll have to work harder then.”
I let my hand trace a little lower, feeling the heat of his skin, but I kept my smile as I met his eyes. “Well, you’ve got some stiff competition,” I teased. “But don’t worry, you’re not doing too bad.”
He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna regret saying that, princesa.”
I laughed softly, pressing my lips to his chest. “Not likely,” I muttered, feeling the undeniable connection between us intensifying again.
My lips moved down his body, tracing the path of every muscle, every curve, as my fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his boxers. The moment my hand made contact with his skin, he groaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent a thrill through me. I took my time, letting my fingers explore, slow and deliberate, feeling the heat of his body and the tension that built with each passing second.
“Doesn’t feel like there’s any damage,” I muttered against his skin, my voice barely a whisper but thick with intent. My hand moved with precision, teasing him, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his body reacted to my touch.
"But I think I need to do a more thorough inspection," I added, my lips brushing against the soft skin of his abdomen as I continued my exploration, sensing how he shivered under my attention. His chest rose and fell more rapidly now, his breath ragged as my fingers tightened their grip, coaxing another low moan from him.
His hand found its way to my hair, fingers tugging gently as he let out a frustrated sigh. "Careful," he warned, his voice rough with desire.
Ignoring the warning, I took him fully in my hand, relishing the soft but urgent heat of him as his body tensed, eyes fluttering shut. His head fell back into the pillow, and I could feel the vibrations of his low groan against my touch. Every inch of him seemed to hum with need, the way his muscles rippled beneath my fingers, the sharp intake of breath that escaped him. The look on his face, so raw and undone, sent a rush of satisfaction through me.
I kissed the spot just below his navel, my lips lingering there for a moment before moving even lower, my mouth closing around him. He stiffened instantly, his body reacting, his breath coming faster as he tightened his grip in my hair. I could hear the wet, hungry sounds of my mouth as I took him deeper, my own senses intoxicated by the taste of him—salt and warmth, a heady mix that made my pulse quicken.
Every part of him was mine to explore, to claim. I reveled in the power that surged through me, watching him fall apart under my touch. His hands found their way to my hair, guiding but never demanding, the tension in his body building with every movement I made.
As I worked him over, I could feel him drawing closer, his breath stuttering, his grip on me becoming tighter. But just as he neared the edge, I pulled back, my mouth leaving him with a slow, teasing drag of my lips. I licked my lips, watching his frustrated eyes, the need in them like a fire that threatened to consume us both.
"Not yet, Angel," I murmured, my voice a dark promise, savoring the control I held over him in that moment.
His chest heaved as he sat up, his hand gripping the back of my neck and pulling me closer to him, our eyes locking. His voice was thick with need, desperate, demanding, "Now, baby."
I gave him a sly smile, unable to resist. With a slow nod, I returned to him, my mouth wrapping around him again, my hand working in rhythm as his hips bucked upward, desperate for release. Each movement was a dance, a push and pull, and when he finally came, it was as if the room shook with the force of his release—a roar that seemed to reverberate through every inch of me.
His hands knotted in my hair, the tension in his body finally breaking, and he collapsed back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his voice hoarse. "Fuck," he murmured, the word filled with the satisfaction of surrender.
I leaned over him, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, my hand still holding him as the aftershocks rippled through him. I could feel the lingering heat of him, the tension in his muscles, the way his body slowly began to relax. In that moment, I felt powerful, but also intimately connected to him, as though the space between us had collapsed entirely.
“Better?” I murmured into his neck, my fingers still toying with him, teasing the sensitive skin as I traced lazy patterns over him.
He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled in his chest, the warmth of his breath tickling my ear. His eyes fluttered open, glazed with pleasure, but still sharp with desire. “Fuck, yeah,” he breathed out, the word dripping with satisfaction.
We lay there for a moment, our breathing slowly syncing up, the rhythmic rise and fall of our chests in perfect harmony. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, filling the space between us until there was nothing but heat, the weight of him pressing down on me, both grounding and thrilling at the same time.
But then, that smirk returned, a wicked glint lighting up his eyes as he shifted, his body moving with intent. Before I could react, he flipped me onto my back, my breath catching in surprise as I landed on the mattress with a soft thud. He hovered above me, his eyes gleaming with something far more primal now—possessive and hungry.
“Now, it’s my turn,” he whispered, his voice a dark promise, as he lowered himself closer to me, the heat of his body radiating against mine. His lips brushed against my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine, before trailing down to my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
I swallowed, my body already responding to the weight of him, to the way he loomed over me, taking charge in a way that sent an electric pulse through every nerve. The room felt charged, every breath we took heavy with anticipation. As his hands slid over my skin, I knew there was no escaping the pull between us.
His fingers pushed my shirt up over my head, exposing more of my flesh to his hungry gaze. He tugged the strap of my bra down, his lips circling the hardened peak as if he was claiming me in every possible way. “I want to taste every inch of you,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin, sending goosebumps in every direction.
I arched up into his touch, gasping as his mouth latched onto my nipple, sucking and biting until I was moaning his name, completely undone by the heat of his mouth. His hand slid lower, teasing down my stomach to the waistband of my pants. He unzipped them effortlessly, his touch leaving a trail of heat that made my entire body squirm beneath him.
As he pulled my pants off, his eyes never left mine—intense, dark with hunger—making me feel exposed, vulnerable, but in the best way possible. I couldn’t look away, the weight of his stare making me burn with desire. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of my underwear, his thumb brushing against my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
“You're so wet,” he murmured, his voice a rough rasp that made my pulse race.
With a smug grin, he slid my panties aside, his fingers delving into me with a practiced ease. The way he moved, how his fingers stroked me, sent waves of pleasure crashing over me, my hips instinctively bucking up against him. My body reacted to him with a desperation I couldn’t control.
He watched me, his eyes dark and filled with need as I writhed beneath him, helpless to the intensity of it all.
“Cum for me,” he purred, the words dripping with desire and control, sending shivers down my spine.
I moaned, my breath ragged, my body tightening, unable to hold back. Just as I felt myself on the edge, about to shatter under his touch, he pulled back—his eyes locking onto mine, searching for the permission he already knew I would give.
“Please, Angel,” I begged, my voice a breathless whisper, the need in it raw.
With a low chuckle, he leaned down, claiming my mouth with a kiss that was all teeth and passion, his tongue sweeping inside as his fingers remained inside me. I kissed him back desperately, feeling myself unravel, the intensity of my orgasm crashing over me, shaking me to the core as my body trembled in the aftermath.
Then, as if the universe decided to remind us of its existence, Angel’s phone vibrated loudly on the nightstand, tearing us from our bliss. The sound was jarring, the suddenness of it a sharp contrast to the heated moment we’d just shared.
He didn’t need to say anything. I saw the shift in his expression, the way his body stiffened, the tension that formed between his brows. The room felt colder suddenly, the intensity of the moment dissipating as the reality of his life outside this space crept back in.
“The club?” I mouthed as he reached for his phone, his fingers brushing against the screen to answer.
He nodded but didn’t say anything, listening intently to Hank on the other end of the call. I shifted, reluctantly pulling myself together. I tugged my jeans back on, the soft sound of fabric brushing against skin loud in the quiet room. I could feel the weight of the moment, the sudden tension building, but I didn’t push for answers. This wasn’t the time.
Angel’s jaw tightened as the conversation ended. “Fuck,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They got Creeper last night. I gotta go.”
The words hit harder than I expected, and I could see the darkness in his eyes, the urgency in his every movement as he quickly threw on his clothes.
I didn’t ask for details. I didn’t need to. We both knew what the club meant—danger, blood, loyalty. I finished washing my face and brushed my teeth with the toothbrush I’d left behind, the normalcy of the motions a strange contrast to the intensity we had just shared. When I stepped back into the other room, Angel was already moving, his hands tightening on the doorframe as he gave me one last glance before heading out.
Louisa was awake in the kitchen, feeding Maverick breakfast. She looked between us with a raised brow, clearly noticing the change in the air. “I thought you were sleeping in?” she asked, her voice light, teasing, but her gaze sharp.
“Club business,” Angel replied, his voice still thick with the lingering tension. He kissed Maverick’s head, offering a small smile before straightening up. “Daddy will be back later.”
I knelt beside the table, brushing Maverick’s hair from his face as I spoke softly, “Hey, little man. See you soon.”
—-
I followed behind Angel in my SUV, the hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise quiet air as we approached the gates of the scrapyard. The large iron gates creaked open with a slow, heavy groan, revealing the patchwork of metal and discarded machinery that made up the compound. The world outside seemed to fade away as I rolled to a stop behind his bike, the weight of the place settling over me like a thick fog.
I sat at the bar, trying to make myself invisible as much as possible, my fingers wrapped around the cool can of Diet Coke that the new prospect—Bottles—had set in front of me. He popped the tab with a practiced flick of his wrist, and I muttered a quiet thanks, the sound barely audible over the low buzz of conversation around me.
But I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the stained glass door at the far end of the room—the Templo door. It wasn’t just the door; it was what it represented, the world on the other side, the secrets and dangers that came with it. The way the light filtered through the glass gave the room a warm, amber glow, but the shadows that lingered there were anything but comforting. Every member of the MC that walked past the threshold was a reminder of the life Angel and I were caught up in. And every time that door swung open, the weight of what it stood for settled heavier on my shoulders.
Angel moved through the room with purpose, his back straight, his jaw set in that familiar way. I could feel his energy—focused, unwavering, like a man who’d stepped into a role he couldn’t escape. The rest of the MC followed, their movements synchronized, like soldiers entering a battlefield. But I stayed behind, nursing my drink and trying to blend into the background, knowing that I didn’t belong in that world, even though I was tangled up in it.
Bottles caught my eye for a moment as he wiped down the counter, his usual indifferent expression flickering into something a little more thoughtful. He knew the game we were all playing here, knew the pull of the club’s power and how it seemed to wrap around everyone who walked through those doors.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.
I nodded, taking a long sip of the diet Coke, the bubbles dancing on my tongue. "Just... waiting."
He grunted in response, offering no further words. There was no need for small talk. Not here. Not when the Templo door was just ahead, and whatever was happening on the other side was about to unfold in ways I couldn’t control.
The weight of the moment settled heavily around us. I watched the men emerge from the Templo, their faces set in grim lines, as though they were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. The tension in the air was thick, the silent knowledge that work needed to be done hanging over everything.
They were heading out with purpose, each of them in their own way carrying the same burden. They had a brother to avenge, a club to protect, and Creeper’s life to safeguard while he was inside. It was a job that came with blood, loyalty, and the crushing weight of guilt—especially for EZ.
I caught the flicker of his eyes as he passed by, his expression tight, the burden on his shoulders clearly visible. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, but there was something in it—something deeper than the usual hardness. Guilt. He blamed himself for what had happened to Creeper, and even though I knew he wouldn’t say it out loud, I could see it in the way he carried himself, the way his posture sagged just a little bit, like he was weighed down by it all.
Angel was just behind him, his own face set with determination, but his eyes softened for a second as they met mine. There was a moment—just a brief one—where the mask slipped, and I could see the concern he had for me, even in the chaos of everything going on.
"Be careful," I called out to them, my voice firm but soft, carrying more than just a simple warning. It was a plea, one wrapped in fear, in the unspoken knowledge that anything could go wrong. I wasn’t just warning them about the danger that lay ahead, but the danger that lingered in everything they did.
EZ gave me a subtle nod, his eyes meeting mine for just a second longer. The rest of the club members filed past, their expressions unreadable, focused on what was to come. But I could feel that tension in the room, the silent promise of violence and vengeance in the air. I stood frozen for a moment, watching them go, knowing I couldn’t stop it. And in some twisted way, I didn't want to.
But that didn’t stop the feeling of dread creeping in—because no matter how much I tried to convince myself it would all be okay, I knew things weren’t going to end the way I hoped.
—-
The phone call came at the perfect moment, the sharp ring slicing through the quiet of the store as I bent down to unload the stock. My hands paused for a second, my stomach tightening with a sense of dread that I couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what to expect, but the uncertainty of the situation still gnawed at me.
Then his voice, soft and familiar, came through the receiver.
“Hey, princesa,” Angel’s tone was calm, but there was an underlying tension in it, the same kind of weight I could feel in the air earlier. “Gonna be at this until late, so we won’t be able to continue what you started this morning until tomorrow.”
I felt my lips curl into a smirk, the playful edge to my voice slipping out easily. “What I started?” I teased, not letting him off the hook. “I think you were the one complaining about your injured dick. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
I could practically hear the low chuckle in his voice, a sound that always managed to make my heart skip. “You know damn well you enjoyed it as much as I did, princesa,” he shot back, the shift in his tone unmistakable. Even over the phone, I could sense the cocky smile playing on his lips.
I leaned against the counter, the task of stocking shelves forgotten as I let the conversation flow between us. The energy was different this time—lighter, teasing. But even then, I could still feel that undercurrent of something more serious on the other side of it all. The danger, the weight of what they were dealing with—those things didn’t vanish just because we shared a moment of humor.
But for now, we played our roles. I played along, knowing full well that the next day would bring its own challenges, and that the clock was ticking on whatever had started earlier.
“I guess I’ll have to wait then,” I said with a sly smile, "But you owe me for this one, Angel. Tomorrow, I expect more than just a quick apology."
He chuckled again, the sound warm and genuine. "You got it, princesa. I’ll make it up to you.”
As the call ended, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow wasn’t just about making up for what we’d missed. It was about more than that. But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight, I had a few more hours of quiet before the storm picked up again.
“Your new hair looks good, Jess,” I leaned over the bar looking at her. 
“Thanks,” she had let it grow out, I guess she was getting tired of the Justin Bieber jokes. I watched as she brushed against Nester and then his reaction to her.
 “You two,” I pointed between them, “just fuck already. Get it out of your system.” Jess laughed and walked out back to get a case of beer to restock. Nester shook his head. Bottles smirked from behind his thick glasses. 
“Shut up,” Nestor told him. 
I chuckled, shaking my head as I sipped on my diet Coke. "I'm just saying," I added, watching Nestor try and fail to act unbothered. "All that tension is exhausting to watch."
Bottles let out a low laugh, adjusting his glasses. "You see it too, huh?"
Nestor shot us both a glare before grabbing a rag and pretending to clean the already spotless bar top. "Ain't nothing to see," he grumbled, but the way his eyes flickered toward the back door told me otherwise.
I smirked, leaning on my elbow. "Right. And I'm the queen of England."
Before Nestor could come up with another half-assed denial, Jess returned, balancing the case of beer on her hip. She caught the tail end of the conversation and raised a brow. "What are we talking about?"
"Nothing," Nestor said quickly.
I just smirked. "Oh, just how you and Nestor should quit the bullshit and fuck already."
Bottles snorted. "Hey, I got fifty bucks that says it happens before the end of the month."
Jess scoffed, setting the beers down with a thud. "You guys need a new hobby."
"Maybe," I admitted, "but this one is too entertaining to give up."
Nestor groaned, running a hand down his face. "I'm gonna kill all of you."
Jess smirked at him before walking away. "Sure you are, tough guy."
I watched her go, then turned back to Nestor with a knowing look. "You're so screwed, man."
His glare softened just slightly, but he didn't argue. We all knew how this was gonna end.
Angel stormed into the clubhouse. There was fear on his face. Something I’d never seen before. I stepped up to him, catching his arm. 
“What’s going on?” I asked softly.
“Tell you about it later, gotta deal with club shit,” he responded. I nodded, letting him go into Templo.
I sat back down at the bar, Nester looked at me, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Guess the two of you need to fuck and get that out of your system.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him, eyes casting toward the stained glass door. 
“Right,” he said. 
I huffed, taking a sip of my drink, but the weight of Nestor’s stare didn’t let up. He was enjoying this way too much.
"Don't you have something better to do?" I muttered, trying to ignore the way my chest tightened with unease. Angel’s face had been burned into my mind—the fear in his eyes, the urgency in his voice.
Nestor just chuckled. "Nah, watching you squirm is way more fun."
I shot him a glare, but before I could fire back, the Templo door swung open, and the heavy air inside spilled into the main room. The club filtered out, their faces unreadable, but Angel barely glanced at me as he stalked toward the exit.
Something was wrong.
I pushed off my stool, ignoring Nestor’s knowing look, and followed after Angel.
“Angel.” My voice was quieter now, more cautious as I reached for his arm again. He stopped this time, but his body was tense.
“Not now, princesa,” he murmured, his voice lower than before.
I swallowed, watching him, searching his face for anything that would tell me what the hell was going on. But all I saw was the same fear—buried deeper this time, but still there.
"Just tell me if you're okay," I said softly.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face.
"I’m not fucking ok," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "They came into my house. Pointed a gun at my little boy.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, “Who?”
“I can’t get into it right now,” he said, “EZ is gonna do something that will fuck everything up.”
“I’ll get Louisa, your dad, and Maverick, take them to my place,” I told him, “they’ll be safe there.”
Angel nodded, his jaw clenching as he took a step back. "Thank you," he murmured, and I could hear the weight behind those words—his gratitude, his helplessness, his rage all tangled together.
I didn't waste time. I pulled out my phone, dialing Louisa as I rushed to my SUV.
"Hey," she answered, her voice light, unaware.
"Pack a bag for you and Maverick. Now," I said, already starting the car.
There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, her voice lower, serious. "What's going on?"
"Angel will explain later. Just trust me and do it. I’m coming to get you."
Another pause, then a quiet, "Okay."
I hung up and pulled out of the lot, my mind racing.
Someone had come into Angel’s house. With a gun. Pointed it at his kid.
My hands tightened around the wheel, a sick sort of fury curling in my gut. I didn’t know who had done it yet, but I knew one thing for sure—whoever it was, they’d just made the worst mistake of their lives.
—-
Louisa paced through my ranch house, taking in everything. 
“I got a portable crib set up in the guest room next to yours,” I told her, “We can get a real one delivered in a few days and whatever else you need to be comfortable here.” 
“Thank you,” she said, “you have so much space here. He could play outside and not have to worry about anything.”
I nodded. “You’ll be safe here.” 
Louisa exhaled, rubbing her arms as she glanced around the house. "I don’t know how to thank you for this."
"You don’t have to," I said simply. "This is family."
She gave me a small, grateful smile before her gaze shifted to Maverick, who was sitting in his portable crib, babbling to himself as he played with one of his soft toys. His chubby fingers grasped at the stuffed animal, his wide eyes filled with curiosity as he kicked his legs excitedly.
"He’s gonna love it here," she murmured, more to herself than to me.
"That’s the goal," I replied.
She nodded, taking a deep breath, then looked back toward Maverick, who had started clapping his hands together, entertained by the sound he was making. A small smile crept onto her face despite everything. "He doesn’t even know what’s going on. He just trusts that we’ll keep him safe."
"And we will," I assured her. "No matter what it takes."
A knock at the door made us both tense for a split second before I stood and checked the peephole. Seeing Angel’s familiar face, I exhaled and unlocked the door.
He stepped inside quickly, eyes scanning the room before they landed on Louisa and Maverick. Relief flickered across his face before he turned to me. "Everything good here?"
"Yeah," I said, settling back into my chair, the weight of the day finally starting to lift. "We’re settled in."
Angel nodded, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Pops said he would come by tomorrow and check on everything. Stubborn motherfucker, though, keeps insisting he won’t stay out here in the desert."
I raised an eyebrow, my gaze drifting over to the window, the dry landscape stretching out before us. "You think he’s safe there?"
He met my eyes, his expression steady but tight, as if weighing every word before he spoke. "For now, yeah. This," he gestured around my house, his fingers sweeping the air, "is just a precaution.”
I exhaled slowly, nodding as I absorbed the gravity of his words. "Alright. Well, make yourselves at home," I said, pushing myself off the chair. "I’ll hit the grocery store tomorrow. Don’t have much here—just snacks and quick meals."
I watched him glance over at the empty kitchen counters, the bare fridge, and then back at me, his mouth twitching slightly in something like a smirk.
“We ain’t picky, princesa,” he said with a shrug, his tone low but easy, as if the simplicity of it was enough to settle the matter.
"Good," I replied, the corners of my mouth twitching up a little. "‘Cause it’s just been me here for a while." The words slipped out almost without thinking, and I felt a small wave of vulnerability, realizing how much I’d gotten used to the quiet solitude. I watched as he moved toward the door, his hand on the handle already.
"Angel," I called, stopping him before he could step outside. "Please stay. Whatever is out there will still be out there tomorrow."
He paused, his hand hovering over the door, but he didn’t turn around right away. Instead, I could feel his gaze on me from behind, his silent weight pressing down as if he was reading the depth of what I wasn’t saying. He didn’t have to ask twice. 
"Are you sure you want me to?" His voice was softer, a little quieter, and I could feel him searching my face for some hidden answer.
I took a breath, the uncertainty creeping up at the edges of my thoughts, but I fought it back. "I want you here," I said, my voice steady but thick with something unspoken.
For a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear, the tension hanging between us. Then, slowly, Angel turned, his gaze intense but not harsh. There was something almost comforting about the way he looked at me then, like he understood without needing to ask. He didn’t say anything else, but the way he closed the door behind him felt like the promise of staying, for however long it took.
I rummaged through the kitchen, pulling out what I could find. It wasn’t much, but a pot of mac and cheese would do for the night. It was quick and easy, and honestly, it was all I had on hand. I set it to simmer, keeping an eye on Maverick as he sat at the table, his little hands grabbing at the noodles with enthusiasm. By the time he was done, half of the mac and cheese had ended up smeared across his face, but from the way he was grinning, it was clear he enjoyed every bite.
Louisa walked over, a soft chuckle escaping her as she looked at Maverick’s messy face. “I’m going to give him his bath,” she said, scooping him up effortlessly. "Then we’ll head to bed. It’s been a long day. Good night."
“Good night,” I replied, my tone a bit more tired than I meant it to be. There was a quiet comfort in watching them slip into their routine, the kind of normalcy that always felt so distant in the chaos of everything else.
As Louisa carried Maverick down the hall, Angel leaned over and blew a rasping kiss on the baby’s cheek, making Maverick giggle in surprise. He stood up straight, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, then looked over at me with a soft, genuine smile. "Good night, son."
The words hung in the air for a moment, heavier than they seemed. He was still getting used to saying them, I could tell, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made the room feel just a little warmer. I nodded, my heart tightening slightly at the simple gesture.
"You need a shower," I said, glancing over at him. "Whatever EZ had you doing is clinging to you." The smell of dust, sweat, and something else lingered on him, a reminder of the long, grueling hours he'd spent in god knows what kind of mess.
"It’s a fucking mess," Angel muttered under his breath as I guided him through the house and into the bedroom, leading him toward the ensuite bathroom. He looked around, his eyes scanning the space, and then let out a low whistle. "Fuck."
I didn’t need to ask what he was thinking—he was already trying to mentally piece together how to scrub the day off. "Toilet’s through that door," I said, pointing with a nod. "If you need it. Towels are here," I added, pulling open the linen closet and grabbing a couple of fresh ones for him. "Patrick left some sweats I can grab for you, and I’ll throw what you have on in the wash."
He stood there for a second, still taking in the room, before giving a half-nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Appreciate it."
I stepped back, giving him space to get to the shower, but I didn’t leave the room just yet. My eyes lingered for a moment on him, noticing how tired he looked. The weight of whatever he’d been through today seemed to settle on his shoulders, and for all the bravado, it was clear he was feeling the toll of it. 
"You good?" I asked, not sure if I was talking about the mess or something deeper.
He looked at me over his shoulder, a brief flicker of something I couldn’t place crossing his face. "Yeah," he said quietly, before turning back to the shower. "Just need to get this shit off me."
I grabbed the sweats and laid them out on the vanity, the soft fabric neatly folded. For a moment, I paused, catching his reflection in the mirror. The steam from the shower was starting to fill the room, softening the edges of the space, and for a second, it felt like everything slowed down, the noise from the world outside fading away.
“You need anything else?” I asked, my voice steady.
"Just you," he said, his voice low and rough, the words hanging in the steam-filled air.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My heart was beating louder in my chest, the rhythm almost drowning out the sound of the shower running in the background. The heat in the room was climbing, the air thick with steam and something else—something electric, something unmistakable. 
“Alright,” I said, my voice steady but soft, my eyes locking with his. Without another word, I reached for the hem of my shirt and tugged it up over my head, letting it fall to the floor. Then, I slipped out of my jeans, the fabric pooling around my feet as I stepped closer to him, the space between us shrinking with every second. 
The steam clung to my skin, warm and insistent, but it was his gaze that held me, that made the heat in the room feel like it was radiating from within me.
“Come here,” he said, his voice still low, but filled with a kind of authority I couldn’t resist. My feet moved on their own, bringing me closer to him until I was standing right in front of him, my heart racing, my hands shaking as I reached out for him.
His hands were faster though, gripping me by the waist and pulling me close until I was pressed up against him, my body flush with his. I gasped at the sudden heat, at the feeling of his bare skin against mine, and I couldn’t help the way my hands found his chest, gripping at the muscles there as I tried to steady myself.
My breath hitched, my stomach tightening as his lips pressed against my neck, and I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped me. His hands slid down to my ass, gripping me tightly as he lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, my arms looping around his neck as he carried me towards the shower.
The water was hot, the steam rising around us as he stepped under the spray, still holding me up against him. His hands were everywhere—in my hair, on my back, on my hips—and I could barely think, barely breathe as he kissed me, his lips demanding and relentless.
His hands tightened on my ass, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the evidence of his desire grinding against my core, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.
I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his damp hair, holding on as if I might drown if I let go. Angel deepened the kiss, his body pressing against mine with a force that left no doubt about his intentions. The rough stubble of his jaw scraped against my skin, adding another layer of sensation to the already overwhelming mix.
“Fuck,” he growled against my lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to let the word escape before he was on me again, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that left me breathless. His hips rocked against me, the friction building with every movement, and I could feel the tension coiling tight inside me, threatening to snap at any moment.
“Angel, please…” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for, but he seemed to understand. His hands moved from my ass to grip my thighs, holding me steady as he pressed his forehead to mine, his breathing ragged.
“You want it?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat through me. I nodded, too lost in the moment to form words, and he let out a low chuckle that vibrated through my chest.
“Good,” he said, his voice a dark promise as he shifted slightly, his hands moving to position himself at my entrance. I could feel the blunt head of him pressing against me, and I bit my lip, anticipation and need warring within me.
 My eyes locked with his as he pushed into me in one slow, deliberate motion. The sensation of him filling me was almost too much, and I let out a strangled gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands tightening on my thighs as he paused, giving me a moment to adjust before he began to move. His hips rocked against mine, the pace slow but relentless, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
The water continued to pour over us, but I barely noticed it anymore. All I could focus on was the way he felt inside me, the way his body moved against mine, the heat of his skin, the roughness of his voice as he murmured my name.
“That’s it, querida,” he said, his voice a rough whisper in my ear as his pace quickened, the rhythm becoming more urgent. I could feel the tension building again, tighter and hotter this time, and I knew I was close.
“Angel, I’m…” I started to say, but he cut me off with another deep kiss, his tongue sliding against mine as his hips slammed into me with a force that drove the air from my lungs.
“Cum for me,” he commanded, his voice raw with need, my body shattering around him as the orgasm ripped through me, intense and all-consuming. My nails dug into his shoulders as I cried out, the sound lost in the steam and the water.
Angel didn’t stop, his hips still moving against mine as he chased his own release, and I could feel him grow even harder inside me. His breathing became even more ragged, his movements more erratic, until finally, with a low growl, he came, his body shuddering against mine as he buried himself deep inside me.
For a moment, he just held me there, his forehead resting against mine as we both struggled to catch our breath. The water continued to pour over us, but it felt like a distant thing.
“Fuck,” he murmured finally, his voice rough but satisfied, and I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and breathless.
“Yeah,” I agreed, my arms tightening around him as I rested my forehead against his shoulder. “Fuck.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and for a moment, we just stayed like that, holding each other as the water washed away the last remnants of the day. But eventually, he shifted, pulling out of me gently before setting me back on my feet. I wobbled slightly, my legs still shaky, but he steadied me with a hand on my hip, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“You good?” he asked, his voice softer now, and I nodded, leaning into him as he reached for the soap.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice just as soft. “I’m good.”
He smiled, a real smile this time, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else. The exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of whatever he’d been through that day, the mess that had clung to him when he walked through the door—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of us, standing there in the steam and the water.
“Let’s get you clean,” he said, his voice still gentle, and I nodded, letting him guide me under the spray as he began to wash away the day. But even as the water rinsed away the sweat and the dust, I knew there were some things it couldn’t wash away. The way he’d looked at me, the way he’d touched me, the way he’d made me feel—it was all still there, lingering just beneath the surface, waiting for the next moment, the next touch, the next word.
The water flowed around us, its steady rhythm somehow grounding the moment, but the fire between us hadn’t dimmed. Angel’s hands still roamed over my skin, tender yet possessive, as though he couldn’t get enough of me. His touch was familiar, but every time he touched me like this, it felt like something new, something deeper.
He tilted my chin up, his gaze searching mine with a quiet intensity. "You sure you’re okay?" he asked again, his voice soft, but the weight of his concern was clear in his eyes.
I nodded, my fingers lightly tracing the lines of his jaw. "Yeah. I'm good. Just... needed that."
His gaze softened, and he pulled me in, his arms wrapping around me like I was something precious he was holding close, even if he never said it aloud. “I know what you mean,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. 
I let out a soft sigh, resting my head on his chest as the water continued to cascade over us. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around us, not just physically, but emotionally too. We weren’t just bodies entangled in the heat of the moment anymore. This was something more—something deeper, something that neither of us had ever really acknowledged but always knew was there.
"I’m good with you," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, but it was the truth. With him, I felt safe in a way I didn’t with anyone else.
Angel’s fingers traced the line of my back, his touch slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch of me. "Always?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of doubt.
I nodded, pulling away just enough to look up at him. "Always," I repeated, and for a moment, the playful teasing was gone, replaced by something serious. "You’re not getting rid of me easily."
He chuckled, brushing a kiss against my forehead. "Wouldn't dream of it."
We stood there for a moment longer, just holding each other, letting the water wash away everything—everything that had come before, everything that might come after.
I stepped out of the shower wrapping a towel around my body. I reached up, wiping the fog off the mirror. I caught his gaze in the reflection as I reached for my moisturizer. Rubbing it in my skin. He watched almost in awe as I went through my routine. 
“That’s a lot of shit you have there,” he remarked looking at the vanity full of products. 
“I need all of them,” I smirked, “to make me pretty.”
“I seriously fucking doubt that,” he leaned against the doorframe as he continued to watch me. 
I chuckled under my breath, smearing the last bit of moisturizer onto my neck, feeling his gaze heavy on me. I could feel the heat of it even without turning around, the way his eyes seemed to linger, drawn to me in a way that was both familiar and still just a little thrilling.
“Trust me, it works,” I said with a teasing smile, glancing at him in the mirror, my lips curling into something a bit more playful. “But I guess you wouldn’t know. You're all rugged and effortlessly perfect.”
He raised an eyebrow, a small, almost cocky grin playing on his lips as he pushed off from the doorframe. “Effortlessly, huh?” He crossed the room toward me, each step slow, deliberate, like he was about to prove something. “You think this is effortless?” His hands brushed against my waist as he stood behind me, his voice low, almost a growl.
“You know you’re hot, Angel,” I leaned back into his chest, “you don’t need me to stroke you’re ego.” 
He smirked, leaning in close enough for me to feel his breath on the back of my neck. “You might be right,” he whispered. His hands slid to my shoulders, his fingertips grazing the skin beneath the towel, sending a shiver down my spine.
I met his gaze in the mirror, his eyes dark, the words unspoken between us settling into the air, heavier than the steam. I could feel the weight of it, the connection that had always been there, only growing stronger.
“I’m right about a lot of things,”  I said softly, my heart picking up its pace at the look in his eyes.
Angel tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing in a way that sent another wave of heat through me. “I’d say we’ve got something pretty damn good here,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward me.
I set the moisturizer down, my hand lingering on the vanity, and turned toward him. The towel barely clung to me as I stood there, suddenly aware of how close we were, how easy it would be to let that distance disappear.
"Yeah," I said, my voice a little more breathless than I intended, "we do."
My fingers laced through his, and I led him back into my bedroom. He looked at the bed, then back at me, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.
“You fucked Bishop there?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
I shrugged, a slight smile playing on my lips. “I mean, yeah, but not in a long time,” I responded, my eyes flicking to the bed as if to reassure him. “You fucked me in the same bed you fucked Nails in.”
He grinned, leaning in closer. “I fucked you in the same bed you fucked Nails in,” he reminded me, his voice dropping even lower.
I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk. “Things aren't as wild here as they used to be at your place,” I told him, letting the words hang in the air between us.
His gaze softened, a mix of amusement and something more serious flickering behind his eyes. He took a slow step toward me, the tension shifting from teasing to something else entirely. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I’m good with that.”
“I am too,” I replied, turning my back to him. I slid open the dresser drawer, pulling out a clean pair of panties and a nightgown. With quick, practiced movements, I stepped into the panties before dropping the towel on the floor and slipping the gown over my head. I scooped up the towel and tossed it into the hamper with a soft rustle.
“How the fuck do women do that?” he asked, his voice still thick with curiosity as he watched me.
“Do what?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
“Get dressed without getting naked,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes scanning me as if waiting for something to spill over.
I raised an eyebrow, turning slightly as I finished tucking the gown into place. “Practice,” I replied with a smirk.
“Fucking magic,” he stepped off the door frame, walking with me to the bed. 
“I’ll let you believe that,” I responded as I pulled the covers back and slid into bed. He stood there for a moment watching as I settled in. 
He shook his head, amused, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. His fingers traced absently over the sheets, like he was taking in the feel of my space—so different from his.
“This is weird,” he admitted after a beat.
I propped myself up on one elbow, tilting my head. “What is?”
“Being here. In your space.” His eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering in them. “Feels different.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Because it’s clean?”
He smirked. “Because it’s you.”
That caught me off guard. My fingers twisted in the blanket as I considered what to say to that, but before I could find the words, he was climbing in next to me.
“Move over,” he murmured, slipping under the covers.
I scooted back just enough for him to fit, and as soon as he settled, he pulled me against him, his arm draping over my waist. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, and I let my eyes drift shut.
“Better?” I asked softly.
He pressed a slow kiss to my shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment before he whispered, “Yeah.”
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zaenight · 2 years ago
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Jess and Nestor
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bullet-prooflove · 10 months ago
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Pretty Young Thing: Angel Reyes x Reader (NSFW)
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It’s Taza’s fault.
Ever since the other man had revealed that he preferred ass over pussy, Angel can’t stop thinking about it. He’s done anal before, but he’s always been the giver, never the receiver. What makes it worse is that Taza refuses to any of his questions.
“What does it feel like?” He’d asked the other man as he slide into the seat across from him and Taza had laughed before saying.
“Why don’t you talk to that pretty, young thing of yours and find out?”
He broaches the topic whilst the two of you are doing the dishes in the kitchen. Felipe’s playing with Valeria in the living room, so he knows he won’t be overheard.
“I can’t get it out of my head.” He mutters, his hip bumping against yours as the two of you lean back against the work surface. “What if I’m missing something? I mean a lot of guys do it right? So, it must feel good.”
“Do you want to try it?” You ask him, drying the last plate before handing it to him.
He bobs his head from side to side in indecision, it’s a big step even for Angel.
“Let’s experiment a little first.” You suggest. “Go slow, see if you like it.”
It starts with a finger. The two of you are getting hot and heavy later that night, trying to keep things quiet because Valeria is in the next room and Felipe down the hall. You’ve become savants at it at this point, your trysts stifled by hands and pillows. You’re a tease tonight, it’s becoming more and more frequent over the last few weeks because since you’ve been shot you need to regain some assemble of control and if Angel’s honest, he needs to lose it.
When your lubed up fingers trace around his hole, he’s surprised to find he likes it. It’s a sensitive area and you’re an expert at reading him, you can tell he wants a little more from the way his hips arch trying to take your finger. The sound he makes when you enter him, it’s loud and you have to clap your free hand over his mouth to silence him. He gets off on that because his Reina, she always takes care of him, she knows exactly what he needs.
“Touch yourself.” You command and fuck, if he doesn’t obey.
You take him apart slowly, adding another finger, stretching him as you brush over that deviant little spot the one that makes his hips buck and his dick twitch. You can tell he’s close, his movements become more frantic, his breath more ragged. The ecstasy, it’s intense, more intense than Angel has ever felt before. It tears through Angel like an IED exploding through his synapses. Your palm presses down over his mouth even harder as Angel becomes completely untethered.
“You liked that.” You murmur after you’ve washed up, your lips brushing over the corner of his mouth.
The two of you are tangled up in one another, your fingertips ghosting along his cheekbone as he holds you close.
“Felt good.” He mumbles drowsily. He feels so relaxed right now, so loved so cared for. It reminds him of the days before the shooting, before Valeria, when the two of you were just a little wild. It’s been a while since he’s had that feeling, that he hasn’t felt burdened by the weight of his responsibilities.
“You want to try a little more next time?”
He smiles against your mouth, his lips claiming yours.
“I’ll book a hotel.”
***
It feels like the first time that Angel took you to bed. You take care of him the same way as you did back then, with teasing caresses and heated lips that chase over his erogenous zones. It leaves him relaxed and wanting, his dick leaking as you kiss him everywhere but the one place, he needs you too. He whines when you pull away, unwilling to relinquish the contact. You shush him, your lips brushing over his sweetly as you smear lube over the black strap on you’re wearing.
“Don’t worry my Angel, I’ll give you what you need.”
You love seeing him like this, so wanton, so desperate. You enter him slowly, and he takes you inch by inch until the toy brushes over his prostate and he moans like a fucking whore. You dip your head low, your mouth covering his as your thumb ghosts along the line of his jaw. It grounds him, anchoring him in the moment as you begin to move in languid strokes, each one leaving him breathless.
There’s a relief in the sensation, to be the one taken, instead of taking. He didn’t realise how much he needed it until this moment, how much he craved it.
“Harder.” He mutters. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“You’re sure?” You ask him and he takes your hand, guiding it up to his throat.
“Remind me who I belong to, Mi Reina.” He whispers. “Make me believe I’m yours.”
You absolutely ruin him.
You fuck him hard, your hand squeezing his throat until the edges of his vision turn black and his cock throbs. Everytime, you release him he whines because he can taste nirvana, it’s there just out of reach but you won’t let him touch it.
“Please…” He pleads as the ecstasy surges up through his veins, setting every single one of his nerve endings ablaze.
“Oh Angel, you beg so pretty.” You tell him, that sinful smile crossing your features. “How can I deny my good boy anything?”
Those words…
He feels the flush creeping up his cheeks because Angel, he’s never been the good anything. It taps into something deep inside his psyche, heightens the intimacy as your hand drifts down to his cock, your thumb spreading pre-cum over the tip. You jerk him off in time with your thrusts, each one taking him right to the precipice.
The air rushes out of his chest as the pleasure hits him, it overwhelming, the way it tears through his synapses like a wildfire burning up his sanity. He’s loud when he comes, so fucking loud the guy in the next room bangs on the fucking wall. Angel doesn’t give a shit because the euphoria that’s racing through his system, it’s like a narcotic.
He whines as you withdraw from his body, he feels empty and overwrought in the moment but then you’re back by his side in an instant, the toy discarded. He moans as your hands trail over his sensitive skin, soothing and tender. You kiss his lips and he’s flooded with a sense of security that he has never felt with any other person.
The next day he sits down across from Taza as the other man flicks through a newspaper with his reading glasses on. He glances up, taking stock of the expression on Angel’s face, before a smile ghosts across his lips.
“You tried it.” He says, turning the next page.
“I owe you a beer.” Angel mutters, sliding one of the two bottles he’s brought over towards Taza. “You know for the advice.”
“Why don’t you talk to that pretty, young thing of yours and find out?”
Taza smiles before he picks up the beer and takes a sip.
“Honestly Angel, you don’t owe me a damn thing.”
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