#mayansmc imagines

[juicesgf]

You’re not a Burden. {A.R}

Warnings: none just fluff

bff reader x bff Angel

The sound of knocking woke you as you rubbed your eyes for a moment before throwing the covers off yourself and standing.

You headed to the front door, once you opened it you were met with Angel staring at your doormat.

“Angel?” You questioned rubbing your eyes once again. When he looked up at you, you noticed some dry blood on his face along with some cuts.

A small gasp left your lips as you grabbed him arm pulling him inside. You wasted no time dragging him to your bathroom before pushing him down on the toilet seat and grabbing your first aid kit.

He just watched you intently before you took your place in between his legs. You put your hand under his chin lifting his face up. “This might hurt a little.” You murmured before placing the cloth on one of his cuts.

He let out a small hiss, his hand gripping your hip. “Sorry.” He muttered quickly moving his hand.

“It’s alright, if you need to squeeze my hip go ahead.”

He just nodded before sliding his hand back on your hip as you ran the cloth over a cut on his bottom lip.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from your face, they slowly looked from your eyes down to your lips. The way you were so concentrated on cleaning him up made his heart rate pick up. “I’m sorry.” He randomly muttered “For waking you, and always making you take care of me—“

“Stop.” You spoke cutting him off. “You don’t make me do anything. I do it because I care about you, Angel.”

“But—“

“No.” You mumbled cupping his face “Stop thinking you’re a burden. You could never be a burden to me.”

They sat in silence for a moment just admiring eachother before his gaze fell to her lips once more. He thought about her words, nobody had ever said that to him before, hell nobody made him feel that way. His whole life he always felt like a problem. Like his presence was always bothering people. “Can I kiss you?” He questioned snapping out of his thoughts

A smile formed on her lips before she leaned down smashing their lips together. “You never have to ask.” She whispered once they pulled away.

🪽🪽🪽

This is so bad bc i wrote it at 3 am but enjoy

- hails 🧸

[ravennaortiz]

The guys reaction to accidently hurting you- Mayans version

Angel- He feels awful. He had been playing around fighting EZ with the pool cues in the clubhouse. Bishop had already warned them to chill but they had disregarded him. Now he was holding you close as you cried and blood ran down your face. Shhing you as you yelled at him for being an idiot and if your nose was broken you would break his. Your threats of shocking the stick up his ass and making him your puppet quieted as he tried to kiss you into silence.

Bishop- "Its a small burn, it barely hurts" you tell him again. He hears you but is too lost in his mind. "Its doesn't matter. I should have been more careful. These things kill" continued Bishop as he frantically tossed all his cigarettes and cigars into the trash. "You hate the smell anyway. I should have stopped years ago" he continued before looking around the clubhouse at all the others smoking as if he hadn't almost caught his wife on fire. "Effective immediately no smoking!" he bellowed as he grabbed the fire extinguisher as you shook your head.

Bottles- He had been trying to impress you. You made him nervous and he had no idea how to tell you he liked you. Which is what led him to trying to show you a magic trick. Unfortunately he had messed up when he saw you smiling at him and he had squirted tequila and lemon directly into your eyes instead of into the cup you were holding. He was barely keeping himself from crying as he watched EZ help you flush your eyes out.

Coco- He had just been trying out a different technique in the bed room. He hadn't meant to make you guys into a sex sent me to the er episode. The nurse and doctor certainly had not won him any points when they said going forward more tongue and less teeth would be best. Glancing over at you on the couch with an ice pack on your lady parts he tried again to apologize. "My bad-" . "Tell it to my clit you almost ripped off" you snapped cutting him off . "Alright then" replied Coco with a shrug before moving to the floor between your legs. "Yo my apologies" he said staring diirectly at your crotch.

Creeper- He's worried you will leave him. The whole time its all he can think about as Angel drives you guys to the hospital. He can't even plead his case, he knows he's guilty. Accident or not. He should not be forgiven for harming his woman. "Guess its safe to say I wont be running away from you anytime soon" you manage to croak out as you try not to look at your swollen and wrongly turned ankle. Creeper frowns as Angel hits a bump in the road jolting you. "Careful" he snaps. Angel scoffs and mutters something only you hear making you laugh. "What was that?" demands Creeper. "I said next time you want to be kinky maybe play were wolf coming through the bedroom window and not the damn woods" replied Angel as he sent Creeper a grin.

EZ- He busies himself. Trying to keep his mind off how your broken hand is his fault. You had been on him about how the trailer needed repairs. The door swung shut to fast and the steps were getting rusty. He had agreed and said he would fix them.... he just never seemed to have time between the club, you and his pops. Now though as you sat in an inflatable pool drinking a margarita with your hand in a bright pink cast he had time.

Gilly- He feels so much shame. You always called him your big teddy bear. Told him how much you loved being wrapped in his arms especially when he gave you surprise hugs from the back. He didn't realize you had a knife. The morning had started off like any other in your household. Your daughter was set at the table eating her cereal as you worked on cutting open a pack of bacon. One minute you were struggling to cut through the packaging as your daughter talked about going to the park and the next you were watching blood pour onto your kitchen floor as your daughter screamed and Gilly yelled.

Guero-He is furious with himself. Honestly if he could he would sprout a second him just to beat the shit out of it. He's snappy as everyone tells him it was an accident and to not be so hard on himself. Even your words can't soothe him. He vows never to play around with you again as the little old lady at the grocery store glares at him. "Its not my first black eye" you state as you toss candy bars into the cart. "Barely felt it, like being punched by a sad cloud" you continue as you watch him roll his eyes. "Yeah that why you were crying so much?" he dead panned making you laugh.

Manny-He's silent and methodical as he checks you over. His eyes and brow furrowed in worry as he notes the flinch as his fingers trace over a sore spot on your back. You whine and his heart feels like you stabbed him. He's about to apologize again but you cut him off with a joke. "You know when I said I wanted you to break my back I meant it as a metaphor for sex not for you to literally break my back". Manny closes his eyes as he chuckles quietly. "Guess I gotta be a Doctor Manny now huh mami?". "Only if you give me an injection" you reply tossing him a glance over your shoulder.

Return to Headcanon Masterlist Page

[dallianceangel]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 🌅🥵

Some more Mayans fics will be posted soon 🫦

🦋 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated ���

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.

[ficnation]

Chapter 2: The Guilt She Bears

Series: “She” Word count: 2,5k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader; Past! Angel Reyes x Luisa Espina Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5 episode 7, mayans mc typical warnings A/n: I’m starting to enjoy all of this angst muahaha

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A few days have passed since Luisa’s death. Angel tries to return to the life he once knew, but it isn’t easy. He tries not to think about Luisa, but the apartment they once shared reminds him of her every second of the day. Every moment he spends there makes it harder not to reach for a bottle of cheap whiskey and the company of another woman.

One day he shows up at your doors, hastily packed bags in his hands as he supports Maverick’s bottom with one muscular arm. Angel’s fist shakes as he raises it to knock on your door. The sound echoes in his ears. He wonders if you’re even home, he forgot to text you before getting in the car, but something in his heart tells him you will be there. You’re always close when he needs you.

As Angel waits, staring intently at the door, each minute feels like an hour. The weight of worry and anticipation seems to become physically tangible. Finally, his impatience wins, and the man reaches for the doorknob, but the door is slowly pushed open from inside before he can make contact.

The door opens just an inch so you can peer out at the intruder with a grimace. You look exhausted, your hair is all over the place, and your eyes tell him you haven’t slept in a while. You give the impression of someone who has been through hell and is struggling to survive. On top of all that, you seem stressed and worn out, ready to give in at any moment. Angel knows he doesn’t look much better, but seeing you like that still worries him.

The grimace falls from your face when you recognize him, and you open the door wider. You see the bags he’s holding in his hands as he stands before you, your expression turning into one of pure confusion.

“Angel? What are you doing here?” you ask him with a raspy voice. You notice Maverick in his other arm. The baby looks just as tired as his father, his big brown eyes drooping sleepily.

“Please, can I come in?” His voice is pleading even though he knows you’d never refuse him that.

You nod, stepping back out of the way to let him in. He can feel your eyes studying him intently as he walks inside. You watch his every move, every breath, and every blink.

“What’s going on?” You grab Maverick from his arms, holding him against your chest as you kiss the crown of his head softly.

Angel heads over to the couch and sets his bags next to it, letting himself fall onto the furniture heavily. He ignores your question for now, and you refrain from asking again, focusing instead on the child in your hold.

“Is he okay? Does he feel better?” you question, observing the little boy. He’s so quiet and tired. You wonder if he can’t sleep without his mommy, if he can sense her absence in his life.

“He’s okay. Just doesn’t sleep well lately,” your friend explains with a deep sigh.

“Oh… poor baby,” you say to Maverick, caressing his soft hair. The child presses his face into the crook of your neck, grabbing your shirt in his tiny fists. You turn your gaze back toward Angel. “What’s in all those bags?”

He doesn’t respond to that question, instead cutting right to the point. “I can’t be there anymore. Everything reminds me of her,” the man confesses, his eyes pleading.

You pause, trying to understand what he’s asking. “You want to... live here?” you finally say, your expression conveying your confusion. It’s not something you had anticipated. It hasn’t even crossed your mind.

Angel nods, shamefully hanging his head. “Please, it’s either you or my dad.”

You bite your bottom lip, noticing how abashed he is to ask you this. Angel has always been so strong and independent that you never expected him to need you this much. Even when he was at his worst, drinking himself into oblivion, he has never turned up to your door asking for a place to stay. Not even once. He was always the one making sure you were alright. But you know the circumstances are different this time.

“Angel,” you begin, and the man sitting on your couch prepares for you to say no. “You know that you’re always welcome here.”

He sighs in relief, some of the tension disappearing from his muscles as he slumps down against the couch. He thanks you wordlessly with an appreciative nod of his head.

“What about your dad?” you inquire, meeting his tired brown eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to live with him, but he’s old, you know. He needs his sleep and I don’t wanna be a burden,” your friend explains. “Not that I’m not gonna be a burden to you but—”

You cut him off before he can doubt himself even more and try to explain something that doesn’t need to be explained. “No, no, Angel, you’re not a burden. Trust me,” you reassure him, “you and Maverick are more than welcome here.”

You know their company might help you too. You have been lonely lately more than ever. The nights seemed too long and restless as you kept overthinking every little thing—the guilt swallowing your whole being, drowning you in its darkness. You kept thinking day and night—what could you’ve done to save Luisa, what could you’ve done to take her place and die that night instead of her.

“I’m not sure where I’ll be in a few months. My lease is almost up. But for right now, and as long as you need it to be, my home is your home.” You look down at Maverick, who’s fallen asleep in your arms, the corner of your lips arching as you kiss his head softly.

A faint smile crosses Angel’s face as he watches the two of you together. It’s painful to know his mommy will never hold him like that again—will never kiss him like that again, but he cherishes the fact that at least you’re there for him and his son. You bring them the comfort—the love they need so desperately right now.

“I have a spare room.” Your voice breaks through Angel’s thoughts. His eyes follow you as you step toward the archway and nod your head in the direction of one of the doors across the corridor.

You can feel the nervousness radiating off him when he follows you. He’s uneasy at the prospect of crashing here, at your house. It’s not like he hasn’t been here before—he has—many times, sometimes with Luisa or Maverick and other times by himself, but he’s never spent the night.

“I don’t have a crib, but we can arrange something. Get the one from your house or get a new one,” you offer, opening the wooden door and stepping inside. You make a gesture with your hand to bring Angel’s attention to the room.

He looks around curiously. The room isn’t too fancy, but it’s cozy and bright. There’s a bed, a small dresser, and other minor furniture. The walls are a light blue color, with a few clouds painted onto them to give the feel of a dreamlike peace. You can tell that Angel likes it by the way he takes it all in with sparkling eyes, the corner of his mouth curving up.

“I can bring it. I planned on that,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I knew you wouldn’t have those stuff.” He sets the bags down by the wall, the tips of his fingers trailing over one of the painted-on clouds.

Maverick fusses in his sleep, still cuddled up to your body. You hum softly, caressing his back. “He’s finally getting some good sleep,” you whisper, a smile crossing your face.

“He feels safe with you.”

Angel’s words are simple, but nevertheless, they stir something inside your heart. Something you’ve buried deep within a long time ago.

The two of you remain silent for a few more minutes. You take in the fact that your friend will be living with you, sharing your space—your mornings, evenings, and nights. The thought of it makes you feel peaceful in a way you haven’t felt before.

“We can take out the mattress from the bed frame and place it in the corner of the room,” you propose, making Angel look at you confused. You roll your eyes at him. “So Maverick doesn’t roll off the bed,” you explain further.

“Yeah, that’s smart,” he agrees, nodding his head at your idea. It feels like his mind is somewhere else.

Your eyes soften, and you giggle softly as the realization hits you. Angel’s head is in the clouds, almost literally. “Well, my hands are kinda busy, so you have to figure it out yourself.”

It takes your words a minute to reach the man. He shakes his head and looks at you, confused. You repeat the sentence, and Angel chuckles softly—the tension relieved by a bit of humor. Just like when you first met him, your heart can’t help but soften at the sight of his smile.

“Oh, you’re funny. Just wait until I’m holding Maverick,” he says, moving past you toward the bed.

He kneels down in front of it and tries to lift it up without success. You notice his struggle and almost let out a very unladylike snort, but you catch it at the last second, not wanting to wake the baby in your arms. Angel doesn’t look like he wants to ask you for help—his manly pride is not allowing it in this matter.

Knowing fully well he won’t be able to figure it out on his own—you decide to save him the embarrassment. “It’s attached to the bed frame. You have to reach underneath and pull the elastic loose,” you guide him, amusement in your eyes.

Angel listens to your instructions and reaches under the bed. He feels out the elastic and begins to pull at it. It takes some effort, but he’s successful in freeing the mattress. He straightens up and lifts it off the bed frame, placing it in the corner of the room.

His brown eyes look down at his little son, cuddled up in your arms. “He looks comfy,” he says softly. “He’s still asleep?”

You walk up to the mattress and place Maverick in the middle, the mattress barely dipping beneath his weight. “Sleeps like a rock. Just like his daddy.”

“So small,” Angel whispers quietly, his eyes glued to the boy’s tiny body—to his clenched fists and his small chest, rising with every steady breath, to his round pink cheeks and the little waves of his hair. His little miracle.

You look back at your friend, tears prickling in your eyes. You know you can both see so much of her in Maverick. The resemblance to his mommy was painfully evident. It was hard for both of you to look at his innocent face and be reminded of what you’ve lost.

Angel notices the tears threatening to escape your eyes. He feels responsible, knowing his presence has indirectly brought you to tears. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes in a whisper, his hand reaching out to gently caress your arm.

“No, I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting just as much as I do.” You wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt. You stand straight, stepping out of Angel’s reach and nodding at him in appreciation.

“Do you want to get some rest? You look like hell,” you say, glancing at him.

He still hasn’t taken his kutte off; he looks exhausted and worn down. But he still refuses with a shake of his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

You know it’s a lie, but you don’t push.

“Come on, I will make us some tea.”

You walk into the kitchen, Angel rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve the headache he caused himself by the lack of sleep and food. You take out two mugs from one of the cupboards above as your friend moves to lean on the counter beside you.

“How are you holding up?” He can easily guess the answer to this question, but he still lets it slip out of his mouth, concern in his voice.

You’ve known Luisa for years; you’ve known her before Angel has even joined her world. The lack of her quiet presence in your life is devastating—sometimes, it just makes you want to blow your brains out. But you know you wouldn’t be able to do that—not when you had people who still loved you and needed you there. And you know Angel is one of them; he cares about you probably more than he cares about himself. The two of you have grown much closer after Luisa’s death. In the span of those few days, you became each other’s lifelines.

“Just getting through, I guess... I miss her a lot.” You let out a deep sigh. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s been hard. Especially—” Angel pauses; he hesitates, unsure if it’s something he should share with anyone. He clears his throat, his voice breaking slightly. “Seeing him… It’s a constant reminder.”

You sense the pain in his words, the struggles he goes through every day. It kills you to hear it. You squeeze his hand in yours for a second, wordlessly showing him your support.

You can tell the conversation took its toll on Angel. He remains nearby, not wanting to leave your side. You fill the kettle and place it on the stove, turning around to lean against the counter next to your friend.

“I miss her,” the man admits; he wraps his tattooed arms around himself. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I thought I was just dreaming.”

“It’s tough,” you nod in understanding.

“I always knew someday we would have to say goodbye. I always knew that,” Angel continues, his eyes gazing off into the distance. “But I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

He turns his attention to you. You can see that there are so many things he wants to get off his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start. You reach for his hand to hold it in yours, to comfort him. You wish you had the ability to make it all better, but there’s not much you can offer him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles out, his voice so shy and quiet you can barely hear him. “I’m sorry that you have to be here for me when I’m like this.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Angel.” You squeeze his hand to make him look you in the eyes. “I want to be there for you.”

You watch as his eyes fill with so much love and gratitude. He looks like he wants to pull you close, hold you in his arms, and cry it all out. But he fights it, trying his best to stay afloat.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d be miserable by yourself. Now, at least you have some company,” you joke, trying to change the topic. It was starting to be too much; you could feel the darkness of guilt crawling up the walls of your brain. You couldn’t save her. You did nothing to save her.

[drabbles-mc]

Better Than Him

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend bails last-minute on yet another date night, you call the first person you can think of to commiserate with.

Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating, language, alcohol

Word Count: 6.7k (oops)

A/N: Don't ask me how I ended up writing almost 7k of debauchery and filth for Angel. I don't know. I drank some wine and this happened. I feel like it should go without saying, but I'll still say it: don't cheat on your partners, y'all. It's only okay and sexy for fictional people to do. 😂😌

Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @thesandbeneathmytoes @meadowofsinfulthoughts @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @artemiseamoon @justazzi (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You were laying on your couch in the living room, slouched down so far that you knew it was going to give you neck issues if you stayed in that position for too much longer. Your chin was tucked against your chest by default. The television was playing in the background, the same sitcom on that you’d watched front to back more times than you could count. You weren’t even really listening to it, though. It was just white noise.

Your phone was propped up against your chest, the picture of you and your boyfriend on your home screen doing nothing but mocking you at this point. You exhaled a deep, exasperated sigh as your finger hovered over the Messages app at the bottom of your screen. It was a stupid idea, but you still opened the app. Nothing good was gonna come of it, but you still scrolled down to your text message conversation with Angel.

The last exchange between the two of you had been him inviting you to the clubhouse, and you politely blowing him off because you were going to have date night with your boyfriend. But now your boyfriend was out doing god knows what and you were lying on your couch, all dressed up with no place to go. Your heels mocked you from the floor, same with the hem of your skirt sliding farther up your leg as you crossed and uncrossed them. All the effort and for what?

Despite knowing better, you hit the call button at the top of the screen. You hit speaker on the first ring, not wanting to even put the effort forth at this point to lift and hold the phone to your ear. Sad, sure. Borderline pathetic, maybe. But you weren’t given the time to spiral into your thoughts about it too much.

“You change your mind about the party?” Not even a greeting. Just loud background conversations and Angel getting straight to the point.

“No,” you replied in the loudest mumble you could manage.

“Wait, where are you? Why…why are you calling me?”

“Because I’m bored.”

The noise on the other end of the line decreased drastically, and you could only imagine that it was because Angel stepped outside to finish the phone call. “Thought tonight was date night or whatever?”

“It was.” You hated how bummed you sounded about it.

“Oh, fuck.” He sighed and you could picture the look on his face. “He, god, he fuckin’ bail? Again?”

You groaned. “The again was not needed, Angel.”

“Neither is all his bullshit.” He paused for a beat. “C’mon, dulce, I’ve been tellin’ you for a minute that you don’t need this dude.”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you argued, but there was no real anger in your voice. Even saying you were annoyed with him was an overreach. You knew he was right.

“What do you wanna hear then, hm?” His voice was right back to its usual slick, flirtatious tone.

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore how much you enjoyed listening to him talk to you like that. You dragged your hand down your face, knowing that this was your last chance to be smart and get out of the conversation unscathed. But you were sick of being the smart one.

“You wanna come over?”

He laughed. “You want me to leave a party to go come and watch you mope about your shitty boyfriend?”

It got you to smile. “Yea.”

He let out another laugh and you couldn’t help but to picture the way that he was probably shaking his head, looking up at the sky knowing that he was going to say yes but he didn’t want to give you an easy time about it. He never wanted to give you an easy time about anything.

He sucked his teeth. “Fine. Be there in twenty.”

“This is why they call you Angel.”

He chuckled. “Shut up.” He paused. “I’ll see you soon.”

It wasn’t quite enough to pull you up from the inhuman angle you were laying at on the couch, but you did feel a little better knowing that you weren’t going to be spending the whole night by yourself anymore. “See you soon.”

You hadn’t moved a single inch by the time that you heard his motorcycle pulling up outside your apartment. The only thing that had changed was that now your phone was discarded on your coffee table instead of resting against your chest. You turned your head to look at the door but you made no move to get up and greet him.

The door was only halfway open, Angel wasn’t even inside the door yet and you called over, “That took longer than twenty minutes!”

Without missing a beat he pelted a bag of Sour Patch Kids at you, the candy landing just below where your chin was tucked. “Wasn’t gonna try and bring ice cream on the bike. Settled for the next best thing.” He kicked off his boots once he shut and locked your door. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Ice cream doesn’t sound terrible,” you said with a chuckle. You lifted one foot and gestured towards your kitchen. “There’s some in the freezer if you want it.”

Angel rolled his eyes as he walked over, standing alongside the couch right next to you. You looked up at him, his presence more towering than usual as your laid down while he stood. He watched as you tore the corner off the package of your candy.

“You’re not even moping right,” he joked as he reached and pushed on your one knee so it knocked into the other. Neither of you made a comment about the face that it made the hem of your skirt slip up a little higher, but you noticed the way his eyes lingered a beat longer. “Supposed to be curled up in sweatpants and shit after a breakup, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head up to look at him more directly, your chin finally lifting off its resting place on your chest. “Breakup?”

“Yea. You,” he paused , brows coming together, “you broke up with him, right?” Your silence spoke volumes and he couldn’t do anything besides huff and roll his eyes at you. “Come on, you’re fuckin’ kidding me, right?”

“What?” You only sounded defensive because you knew that he was probably about to be right with whatever he was going to say.

“How many times does this guy have to blow you off and treat you like shit before you finally kick him to the curb?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you said with a shake of your head, not able to look him in the eyes as you ate one of the candies and set the package on the table next to your phone.

“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted.

“Angel!”

“What!” He held his hands out like he was begging you to get up and try something. “How else would you describe it? You’ve,” he scoffed, “you’ve called me stupid for way less.”

“Yea, but I never mean it.”

“Because I’m never being this stupid,” he shot back with a smirk.

Despite your frustration, you found yourself biting back a smile as you rolled your eyes at him. You knew he was right. You should’ve left your boyfriend a long time ago. Consistency with something that wasn’t great felt safer than not having any consistency at all, though.

“Since when are you giving out relationship advice?”

He shrugged with a laugh. “I’m not. I’m givin’ out breakup advice. Dump his ass.”

It got both of you to laugh. For a brief moment, it almost looked like Angel was about to say something else. Instead, though, he turned and headed for your kitchen to grab himself a beer, shedding his kutte along the way. You said sure when he asked if you wanted one too. Even with the television on, you could hear the clattering of the bottlecaps on the countertop. When you heard the slight scraping of the bottles being picked up, clinking against the rings on Angel’s fingers, you finally pushed yourself into a more upright position. You were still somewhat slouched back against the arm of the sofa, but you were at least at a more appropriate angle so you wouldn’t get a permanent kink in your neck.

“Here.” Angel faked like he was going to toss the open bottle to you. You knew that he wouldn’t, but you still flinched to reach and grab it just in case. You hated the laugh that it got out of him, but really you loved it. With one hand free, he tapped your knee lightly. “Quit hogging the couch.”

“It’s my couch, you know,” you said as you pulled your legs in a little closer to you, granting him the space to sit.

“Yea, and you invited me over. So now you gotta share.” He plopped down unceremoniously, immediately putting his feet up on your coffee table.

You were both tuned into the show playing on the television for a couple minutes before you asked, “How was the party?”

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Could’ve shown up and found out for yourself.”

“I didn’t wanna see people,” you said before taking a sip of your beer.

“Oh? And what am I, then?’ he asked with a laugh.

“You’re Angel,” you replied with no hesitation.

He rolled his eyes but there was no denying the grin that was creeping across his face. “Shut up. Don’t gotta sweet-talk me. I’m already here.”

You both chuckled before falling back into comfortable silence. Part of you felt like you should be saying something more. After all, you did ask him to bail on the clubhouse party to come and hang out with you. But it was so comfortable with him like this. Something about knowing that he would turn his back on something like that just so he could show up and do nothing with you helped soothe your bruised ego. Your boyfriend couldn’t manage to show up for date night, but Angel could bail on an entire room full of his MC brothers and girls who would give just about anything to take him home just so he could show up and watch cheesy sitcoms with you. It stung but at the same time it felt good. You knew that that was all you really needed to know about how you should be handling your relationship, but you didn’t want to think about that. That problem would still be there tomorrow. You’d deal with it then.

In between episodes, you leaned over so you could set your beer bottle on the coffee table. As you settled back into the couch, you stretched your legs out again. You draped them across Angel’s lap, not commenting on the action as you did so. Your eyes were trained on the television, but in your peripheral you could see the way that Angel was looking at you. His eyes slowly raked up the exposed skin of your legs, along the rest of your body until he was looking at your face. He watched you for a minute, and you thought that maybe he was going to make a joke, or push your legs off him. But he didn’t.

He leaned so that he had one elbow propped against the arm of the couch, still holding his nearly-empty bottle of beer in that hand. Without looking back over at you, he brought his other hand to rest against your shin. The metal of his rings felt cool against your skin, and you flinched slightly, but you didn’t pull away or say anything to him. He felt the twitch, and rather than pulling away, he wrapped is fingers a little tighter. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was enough to keep you from pulling away as the warmth from your skin made the metal of his rings more tolerable.

“What were you supposed to be doing tonight, anyway?” Angel asked you out of nowhere.

“Hm?” You pried your eyes away from the television screen to look at him.

“For date night. What were you guys gonna do?”

If someone else had been asking, you would assume that they were just going to rub salt in the wound. And maybe you would’ve thought the same of Angel too, because he could get like that sometimes, but there was something about the pensive look on his face that let you know that that wasn’t the case.

You shrugged as you rested your hands on your stomach. “Nothing crazy. Just dinner and then going somewhere for dancing and drinks.” You paused. “Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Nudging his leg lightly with your foot, you said, “Nosey.”

He laughed but didn’t argue because he knew that you were right. “Can he even dance?”

“Can you?” you shot back with a curious look.

“Pfft,” he laughed, “like I’m ever gonna give you that kind of ammunition.”

You let out a hum of amusement before the conversation died off again. The controlled chaos of the TV show playing in the background was the only noise in the entirety of your apartment. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Angel to be over at your place, for it to just be the two of you. So you wondered why this time you felt like it was the first time the two of you had ever existed in a space alone together. His hand that was steadily creeping up your leg was probably a large part of the root cause, but you couldn’t afford to think about it too much. Give it too much of your mental real estate and you were going to combust.

He didn’t say anything as his fingers began to work in methodical little circles against the muscle of your leg. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Angel was the kind of guy who would voluntarily give a girl a massage, let alone be good at it, but you instantly felt more relaxed as your legs untensed against him. You made a conscious effort to ignore the other feelings bubbling in your chest as he slowly but surely worked his fingers higher up your leg. He wasn’t looking at you, so you weren’t going to look at him. Maybe if it stayed like that, you would be able to keep yourself under control.

His fingers worked through a knot at the top of your calf, and the soft moan that slipped out past your lips was completely involuntary. You immediately froze, not turning to look at him, not saying anything about the sound you’d just made. You were waiting for Angel to say something, make some slick comment, a sexual joke of some kind, but he didn’t. His fingers didn’t stop moving, though, creeping up over your knee and onto your thigh.

You didn’t know how many seconds had passed before you finally decided that it was as safe to look at him as it was ever going to be. You slowly turned your head, your eyes searching for his. You thought that he was already going to be looking at you, waiting to say something. But when you were finally looking at him head-on, his eyes didn’t meet yours. Instead, his gaze was locked onto your legs, eyes slowly raking up the exposed skin, zeroing in like he was trying to see past the fabric of your skirt. It should’ve made you uneasy, should’ve made you want to tell him to get the fuck out of your apartment, but it didn’t.

Taking a slow, deep breath, you forced your body to relax again. The tension started to ebb away, allowing you to melt back into the couch cushions and against Angel. And, if your legs parted a little farther in the process, where was the harm in that.

Even with the television playing in the background, you heard the sharp inhale that he took, his eyes still completely zeroed in on your legs. You found yourself gnawing lightly at your bottom lip, just watching him, studying his reactions to it all. You knew that you definitely shouldn’t have been getting so much enjoyment out of it, but it was too late now.

“You good, Angel?” you asked as you watched his tongue dart across his bottom lip.

He cleared his throat as he nodded, finally dragging his eyes away from your legs so that he was looking at your face. “I’m good.” He paused. “You good?”

You nodded, a satisfied smile creeping across your face before you could stop it. “I’m good.”

There was a long pause, each of you waiting for the other to say something, do something. It felt like a game of chicken but you weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for more, for him to push it farther or for him to pull away completely. Usually you could read him without much of an issue, but this time you really didn’t know what his next move was going to be, if there was going to be one at all.

Then he lifted your legs just slightly. You froze, hating the fact that you were worried that he was going to stand up and leave. You would have no right to ask him to stay, to do any of the things that were currently running through your head. You had a boyfriend for that, supposedly. But he wasn’t here. Angel was.

He didn’t get up to leave, though. Instead, he slid down a little closer to you on the couch before draping your legs over his again. You were smiling before you even knew what you were doing. His hands rested easily on your knees, fingers pressing against you lightly for a moment before sliding up onto your thighs. He applied the same pressure he had before, still not saying anything more as he kept traveling slowly further and further towards the raised hem of your skirt.

When he finally reached it, your breath got caught in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do next. He toyed with the hem of it, sliding the smooth, black fabric between his fingers. You were expecting him to slide his hands completely underneath it, for him to push it the rest of the way up your thighs. You were still holding your breath in anticipation, studying even the slightest shifts in his expression.

So imagine your disappointment when he tugged it down, letting it rest back in its rightful place covering up the majority of your thighs. You felt a little sick to your stomach over the fact that you were disappointed by that at all, but it was too late to take the feeling back now. He didn’t take his hands off of you at least, eyes still traveling up and down your body like he was trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.

“Angel?”

His eyes snapped up to yours. “Yea?”

“Can you keep doing that?” you asked, your tone innocent enough. “Feels good.”

He swallowed hard, seeming shaken for the first time all night. But he nodded, a wordless agreement as he let his fingers press firmly, purposefully against the skin and muscles of your thighs. Your eyes drifted shut, soaking up the sensation, letting yourself get lost in the thoughts that you most definitely shouldn’t have been having. The disappointment of your canceled date night was the furthest thing from your mind now.

You didn’t even flinch when he pushed your skirt back up. Whatever shred of decency he’d been trying to have was tossed out the window the second you asked him to keep touching you like that. He didn’t know why he was tempting fate the way he was but he was too invested now to back down.

You felt him shifting on the couch, but your brain was too deep in other thoughts to really think about what it meant. You vaguely registered the fact that he was closer to you now, able to feel the denim of his jeans against the backs of your thighs. Your eyes were still closed, unable to see the way that he was looking at you like a starved animal who had managed to find itself a good meal. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip as he tried to exercise a little self-restraint. There was so much that he wanted to say to you, do to you, but with every passing second it all felt like it was turning more and more into a sick joke.

He inhaled slowly through his nose, gearing himself up for whatever your reaction was going to be to what he did next. You’d either let him, or he was going to get caught across the cheek with a mean right hand. At this point, he was willing to take the risk because his heart was pounding inside his chest and he couldn’t walk away without knowing.

His hands slipped underneath your skirt, ghosting over the tops of your thighs. You gasped when you felt the tips of his fingers brushing against the lace of your panties, right at the juncture where your legs met your hips. That’s what got you to finally open your eyes. You lifted your head off the arm of the couch, your mouth slightly open as you looked at Angel. You could see the deep rise and fall of his chest, and he could see the way yours was doing the same.

“I can stop,” his voice had a tone that you’d never heard before and it sent a wave of shivers over your body. When you didn’t say anything in response, didn’t make any type of move to encourage or discourage him, he said, “You want me to?”

You shook your head, your voice coming out small in a way you hadn’t intended it to. “No. Don’t…don’t stop.”

With what seemed like an effortless motion, he shifted so that he was kneeling, facing you slotted between your legs. Spreading his hands over your thighs, he pulled you down so your back laid flat against the couch cushions. He pushed your skirt up, exposing your thighs and panties in the same movement. He heard the shuddered breath you let out as his hands continued to run up and down your thighs, studying you as he tried to figure out what his next move was going to be.

“What’re we doin’ here, mi dulce?” he asked, his voice low.

Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, legs already on the brink of shaking when he hadn’t even really touched you yet. “Whatever you want.”

He licked his bottom lip. “You mean that?”

You managed a nod even though your brain was completely muddled with the possibilities of what Angel wanted to do to you. “I do.”

“This,” he said slowly as his hands crept back towards your hips, “is a bad idea.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I don’t care.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, not needing anymore encouragement from you as he looped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and started to pull them down your legs. You lifted your feet off the couch cushion, anything to make it easier for him to get them off of you faster. You were expecting him to toss them aside, but instead he tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. Later, tomorrow, next week, whenever he thought back on whatever this was about to turn into and he was sure it was a dream, he’d have proof that it wasn’t.

Then his hands quickly ran up your shins and thighs again. This time he moved the rest of his body so that he was hovering over you, your legs loosely draping themselves around him as he set one hand on the arm of the sofa, bracing himself above you. His pupils were blown out like you’d never seen them before as his other hand gripped tighter onto your thigh.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped out.

It was the closest you ever got to having an orgasm just from the sound of someone’s voice. You whispered a soft, embarrassingly needy, “Fuck,” as you kept your eyes locked on his.

His hand crept from your thigh until it landed in between your legs. You gasped, biting back a whine as he trailed his fingers along your folds with a featherlight touch. Enough for you to feel him there, but not enough to get what you really wanted.

A smirk painted over his features as he applied just a little more pressure. “If you’re this wet already,” he leaned down so that his lips were right next to your ear, “I don’t know if you can really handle me, querida. I haven’t even started yet.”

The moan that came out of you wasn’t planned, but you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes fluttered for a second as his words washed over you but finally you were able to focus on him again. “Let me try.”

The smile on his face was sinful as he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. Your hands immediately interlocked against the back of his neck, not allowing him the opportunity to pull away now that you had him. You’d thought about what it would be like to kiss Angel more than you cared to admit. It wasn’t something you were exactly proud of, but given the situation you’d put yourself in now, thoughts were the least of your worries.

He tasted like the beer he’d taken from your fridge, like the cigarette he’d probably smoked at the clubhouse before leaving to come and see you. His tongue moving against yours felt like heaven. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip as your fingers slid up and into the short hair above the nape of his neck.

While he was pulling the air from your lungs with the way he was kissing you, his fingers slid up and down your folds, slicking themselves with your wetness and teasing you for just another moment longer before he slowly slid them into you. The moan you let out was something out of Angel’s wildest, wettest dreams. He swallowed the sound eagerly as you kept your lips pressed to his.

You pulled your lips off his only so that you could say his name. It came out like a pant as you pulled him closer to you, moaning quietly into the crook of his neck. His fingers continued to work you over, rendering you an absolute mess as you clawed at his back through the fabric of his shirt.

“How’s that feel?” he murmured against your ear.

You forced your brain to work well enough to string together the words, “So fucking good.”

“How good?” He kissed right below your ear. “Better than him?”

“Angel,” your voice was somewhere between a plea and a warning.

You felt the slight vibration, the hum of his quiet laughter. “You can tell me.”

You gasped as he sped up his rhythm. “Fuck, Angel.”

“C’mon, dulce,” he coaxed, “tell me.” When you didn’t say anything, he stilled his movements, smirking at the whine you let out. “If I’m not doin’ a better job, I can just stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “You feel s—” your words faltered as he started to move again, “so fucking good.”

He kissed you hard on the lips, his mouth moving hungrily against yours in a vain attempt to distract you from the fact that he was slipping his fingers out of you. You whined against his mouth and the quick laugh he let out would’ve felt insulting if it wasn’t immediately followed by the sound of him unbuckling his jeans.

He pulled away from you, planting his feet back onto the floor just long enough to drop his jeans and boxers to the floor. You were sitting part of the way up, propping yourself on your forearms as you watched him. He was stepping out of the denim that was now in a pile at his feet when he saw you. He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he crawled back on top of you.

“Like what you see?” he asked as he pulled your legs back around his waist.

You hummed in agreement as you slid your hands up his side, your fingers easily finding their way under the ribbed fabric of his tank top. “I’d like it better if I could feel it.”

He let out a breathless laugh as he dropped his face into the crook of your neck. “You’re somethin’ else.”

“You love it,” you mumbled as you tightened your legs around him, desperate to pull him closer and into you.

“Yea,” he moaned as he finally gave in sliding into you, “I really fucking do.”

Whatever you were hoping to say, to taunt him with, instantly fell by the wayside once he was inside of you. There wasn’t a single word or coherent thought in your brain as you wound yourself as tightly around him as you could. Your legs squeezed him tighter, your arms reaching across his back so your nails could dig into him, leaving irrefutable evidence for him to look at the next day.

If you thought that the feeling of him kissing you made your head spin, this was about to send you into the next dimension. You always thought it was so cheesy when people said that it felt like someone was made just for them, but as Angel fought to thrust slowly, to make sure this lasted as long as it could, you couldn’t help but to feel like he really might’ve actually been made for you.

Your eyes were closed, just soaking up the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, his lips and tongue trailing over your neck. If it had been possible, you would’ve dissolved right into him because of how good it all felt. The moans and whimpers he pulled out of you were ungodly, and they only served to spur him on even more.

Then you felt his teeth graze against the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. He didn’t bite down hard, so you let it go without comment, not wanting to interrupt the moment of bliss you were having if you could help it. He thrust into you harder, the moan you let out making your throat vibrate against his lips. He bit down a little harder, almost starting to suck a dark mark into the side of your neck when you pulled one hand from his back so you could plant it on his chest and push him away. Your body tried to fight you on it, but somehow you managed to win against yourself, putting just enough distance between you so that you could pull his lips back to yours.

“Angel,” you kissed him, “don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he pulled his lips away from yours and latched them back onto your neck. It felt like heaven but you knew it was going to be more trouble than it was worth if you didn’t stop him.

“Don’t, don’t leave any,” you stuttered for a moment when he changed his pace—it was almost a successful distraction, “No marks.”

You felt him chuckle against the column of your throat, the ticklish sensation of his beard against your skin. “Why not?” He kissed you. “Don’t want him knowing that someone else out there is giving you what he can’t?”

Trying to get him to show any self-control felt criminal, and also futile. “Yea, something like that.”

“No fun,” he murmured against you.

You had to laugh at that. “Really?” You carded your fingers through his hair as he pushed his hips to meet yours. “’Cause it feels like you’re having plenty of fun.”

Cupping his jaw, you pulled him back up to you and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth. Before your eyes fluttered closed, you saw the way that he relaxed, melting against you as his hands slid down to grip onto your hips. He held you steady as you continued to kiss him, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. He must’ve felt it, too, because he quickly caught your wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the arm of the couch.

The second he pulled his lips off of yours, your phone started to vibrate against the top of the coffee table. You both stilled, Angel leaning to look over and see who was calling. He chuckled as he looked back down at you. “I can answer it, if you want.”

“Don’t,” you sounded so breathless, “Don’t you dare.”

“You don’t want him hearin’ this?” he asked as he moved his hips, pulling another moan out of you.

You shook your head in protest but you couldn’t force anymore words out. Relief coursed through you when Angel dropped his head back down, kissing you hard on the lips before moving back to your next. You knew what he was going to do now that you weren’t going to be able to stop him. At this point you didn’t even care. The moan that came out of you when he sunk his teeth into your neck again let him know that you had no real intention of making him stop. You called out his name as you came undone around him, your legs tightening for a moment before going lax, only staying looped around his waist because of how close he had himself pinned to you.

He ran his tongue over the spot on your neck where his teeth had just been, like he was trying to soothe over the sting. It was the furthest thing from your mind, though, as you slowly started to come down from your high. You felt dizzy from it all as his forehead dropped against your shoulder. All of your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you laid there, stars behind your eyes as Angel eagerly thrust into you. His grip around your wrists tightened, almost bruising as his movements got more intense.

The reality of everything that was happening burst to the forefront of your mind, and it should’ve made you feel badly, but it didn’t. Instead, it sent a second wave of bliss over your body as you wriggled your hands out of his grasp, immediately pulling his lips to yours. He didn’t fight you on it, pushing his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he came inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, and you could feel the racing beat of his heart as his chest laid pinned to yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to catch his breath. His hands wandered slowly back down to your legs, running over them, pulling warmth from them as they stayed wound around his hips. You let out a hum of contentment as he placed a few lazy kisses to your neck and what he could reach of your shoulder. If you could’ve, you would’ve laid like that all night.

After a few minutes, when both of you got your breathing and heartrates back under control, Angel slowly, carefully pulled out of you. You fought the impulse to whine, not wanting all of it to be over. But you knew that you had no right to be complaining about something being over when it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

He placed a lazy string of kisses down your neck and over your clothed chest before getting himself to sit upright. He reached for his boxers on the floor, lifting his hips up off the couch just long enough to pull them on.

You pushed yourself up just enough to lean back against the arm of the couch. You crossed one leg over the other, pushing your skirt down a little bit like it made any fucking difference at this point.

“Hey,” you lifted your chin a little, waiting for him to look at you, “you good?”

He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “I’m great.”

Your brain was still a little too muddled to be able to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He couldn’t make it easy. “What’re you thinking right now?” You paused. “Are you mad?”

He chuckled, a smile starting to curl the ends of his lips as he replayed everything that had just happened. “Fuck no.” He looked over at you, studying your face for a moment before asking, “How messy is this gonna get?”

“What?”

He motioned back and forth between the two of you. “This. Was this a one-time thing? You gonna finally break up with this dude? What’s the deal?”

And just like that, you came crashing down from your high. You dropped your head back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling as you thought about your answer to his question. “I don’t know.” You dragged your hands down your face. “I know how awful that is.”

“Look,” he reached over, resting one hand on your knee, drumming his fingers, “I don’t give a shit about this guy, or hurting his feelings.” He saw the way you laughed at that. “I don’t. He wants to fuck things up with you? I’ll let him.” He paused, a shit-eating smirk taking over his face as he said, “And I’ll keep fuckin’ you while he’s doing it.”

“Angel!” you chastised him with a laugh.

“I’m serious.” He leaned down, grabbing his jeans so he could start to pull those on too. “I don’t give a fuck about him. But I’ve been tellin’ you, you’re wasting your time.”

“So, what, you think I should just leave him and be with you?”

Angel shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I mean, you should,” he laughed, “but I didn’t say that. Him being a waste of your time has nothing to do with me.”

“Really?” You laughed. “This feels like it has a lot to do with you.”

“Yea, ‘cause I was inside you like, two fuckin’ minutes ago,” he said with a laugh. He stood up, pulling his jeans up and buckling his belt back into place. “You gotta make that choice. I’ll be here, no matter what you end up doing, but,” he raked his fingers back through his hair, “this is your mess to figure out.”

“Why’d you come over, then?”

He shrugged. “I like you. You knew that, though.”

Your voice was quieter than you thought it was going to be as you said, “I know.”

He was about to go grab his boots when he saw the look on your face. “Want me to stay?”

You thought about it for a long moment before finally shaking your head. “I’ll be good. You know, when my legs start working again.”

Angel laughed and shook his head as went to grab his kutte and put his boots back on. You watched him, unable to wipe the smile off your face, or shake the jittery feeling still coursing through your body. You knew that you should feel guilty, and maybe you would in the morning. Or maybe you wouldn’t. It was all a mistake but it certainly didn’t feel like one yet.

He walked back over, standing beside the sofa like he had when he first got to your house. “You sure you’re gonna be good if I go?”

You looked up at him and nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the company.”

He smirked. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”

You rolled your eyes but you could feel your face getting warm. “Goodnight, Angel.”

He laughed, leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. “Night.” He walked back to the door. He was halfway through it when he turned and looked back over his shoulder at you, a smile on his face as he said, “Don’t forget to cover up that hickey.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him as he pulled the door shut behind him. Once again it was just the noise of the television filling your apartment. Reaching up, you lightly pressed your fingers against where Angel’s mark was, already thinking of the best way to cover it up.

[broiderie]

Meet the Reaper 25

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Night. Ride safe, Chibs.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh good. I really want my arm back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ooops. I keep forgetting,” she grinned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You too, Lass.” 

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

Taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

[iamaslutforcoffee]

Just Pretend

Chapter One:Princess of Santo Padre

"Curiosity often leads to trouble"

-Alice in Wonderland (1951)

~~~~~

"¿Tienes algún plan hoy, niña?" (Do You have any plans today baby girl? ) My father asked as I helped him bring in my luggage to abuela's house and into the spare room.

I simply shook my head.

"No, other than going to lunch with Emily. You know she's going to have my head if I don't come meet her and Miguel's son" I replied, finishing off a tight dutch braid of my hair.

"¿Por qué? ¿El club me necesita?" (Why? Does the club need me?) I paused briefly.

He simply chuckled and came over to me, kissing the top of my head.

"tu dedicación a este club me hace pensar que eres miembro de este club" (Your dedication to this club makes me think you're apart of this club) he replied. I simply smiled and finished off the second braid.

"I'm going to head out, they need me in templo.. something about going to base town." He spoke, placing a kiss on my head and heading out the door.

I simply smiled and stood up, walking him to the door and making sure he put on his helmet when riding.

"You know, it's almost like you care about his safety more then me, Fleur" I heard from my best friend. I simply flipped him off.

"Angel, leave her alone. You and I both know she will gut you like a pig" my father spoke and I shook my head.

Its always these damn men.

As i finished getting ready for the day, my phone went off, noticing it was Emily I smiled and answered.

"If you're calling to ask me to babysit absolutely. I'll watch my god baby" I smiled, picking out the days outfit.

"I was actually calling to see if you wanted to have lunch. Miguel is busy doing some kind of work and I don't want to stay in the house with Dita.." Emily spoke, the irritation in her voice evident when she spoke of Dita.

"Emily.. I love you to death. But give me a break on the Dita thing. That's your mother in law..you have got to understand her side of things" I replied. I decided on a simple pair of leggings, a nice and flowy t shirt and a pair of converses. It was extremely hot today in Santo Padre, I wasn't going to try dying just because I wanted to look cute.

"Nicole.. I do understand her side. But she's just so... pushy. Its as if she wishes she was me instead of in her own position. " I could hear the frustration and decided just to bed it. I didn't want to deal with her anger.

"So, where for lunch?" I asked, grabbing my jacket and purse.

"Just here. If its okay, Nestor is picking you up on the way to Miguel."

I sighed. Nestor was Miguel's best friend, and he was merciless. A beautiful, but very troubled man. He was Miguel's right hand, and also his best friend.

As I went to go outside to my car Nestor was already there in the famous black escalade.

"Yeah, he's already here Em. I'll see you soon!" I smiled, hanging up.

I peered at Nestor, whom seemed to be as enthused with me as I was him.

"You gonna let me sit up front or am I still subjected to the back seat?" I asked. He stared me down, the dark orbs of his eyes peering back at me. He cracked a smile and shook his head.

"Always a pleasure, Fleur." He opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in.

" Don't call me that, Duendecillo" (gremlin) I climbed into my seat and put the seat belt on, not trusting his ability to drive. Nestor scoffed and rounded to the drivers side of the vehicle.

"You really ought to give him a chance, Nicole. Hes not that bad." I heard Miguel say from behind me.

"Jesucristo, Miguel. Tienes que dejar de hacerme esa mierda sabiendo muy bien que tengo un corazón débil." (Jesus christ, miguel. You have got to stop doing that shit to me knowing damn good and well I have a weak heart.)

Miguel laughed, shaking his head. Nestor got into the vehicle and put his sunglasses back on, pulling out of the driveway.

"And give him a chance for what? To teach me how to braid my own hair?" I turned in my seat to face my bestfriends husband. I started playing with the end of Nestor's braid, much to his disapproval. I smiled and yanked it a bit, just for him to turn his attention towards me and give me a look that would normally make me melt, but only added fuel to the fire.

"I can't wait to kill you" he simply spoke, and I sat back in my seat.

"First of all, you can't. Emily would have your head and bitch to Miguel which we both know won't go over well. Secondly, where the fuck are you driving? Did you braid your hair too tight because this isn't the way to the estate" I replied. It wasn't a lie.. we weren't even headed in the same direction as Emily and Miguel's home was.

Miguel coughed uncomfortably in his seat, and I looked at him through the mirror. His eyes screamed for me to just please give him a break from our bickering and I sighed, knodding.

Eventually we did stop at an abandoned building, and a group of motorcycles stood outside the entrance.

"Wait, Miguel. Why is my father and the MC here? What's going on?" I asked, turning in my seat.

"It's just a small detour for buisness. I asked the MC for a favor on something and they simply complied. I hope you don't mind.. I can have Nestor drive you to Emily and Cristobal shortly.." he continued but I shrugged.

"No, it's ok. I can visit my father for some more time. " I smiled quickly and got out of the vehicle, being met by my tio bishop.

"Niña, ¿qué haces aquí?" (Baby girl, what are you doing here?) He asked, giving me a quick hug. He was always so protective of me, especially since his son, my cousin, passed away a few years ago. I think he took to me as if I was his own daughter..which was fine. Between him, my father and tio Marcus I was the princess of the Mayans.

"Quick detour, I was on the way to visit Emily. They picked me up. " I replied, looking quickly at Nestor and Miguel.

My eyes set on Nestor, who was standing against the vehicle. His eyes seemed to be trailing me, and as they set on mine he quickly turned his attention away.

We walked in and there was a bigger man tied to a church pew, this must of been what my father was talking about when he said that they were going to Base Town. For some strange reason, Miguel put on a yellow rain coat and it made me giggle.

"Look at him! He looks like he's going to audition for the role of georgie in IT" I quietly spoke to Angel, causing him to giggle.

"Nikki, stop." He replied and I couldn't help myself, I kept going.

"What? Look at him! He about to start singing and shit about dancing in the rain!" I replied, laughing harder. The attention in the room turned to us and I shrugged.

"My apologies" I very quickly spoke, Nestor looking at me with an annoyed look on his face. I shook my head at him and flipped him off, adding what ever fuel to a fire i could.

Miguel turned back to the bound man, starting to question him.

"You ever meet her?" He asked, crossing his hands infront of him.

"Never in person. She'd give us a call or a text, gave us a drop point" the man replied.

"Where?"

"Indio Quarry. We used proxies to drop off the drugs, pick up the cash. Never saw a face..no names.."

Nestor grabbed a bag off of the table behind him, handing it and its contents to Miguel.

"Found this in your jeep. Payment?"

"She didn't tell us it was the cartel..I swear" the man replied.

"Bullshit, your men were told of the fact it was the Galindo Cartel when they robbed the MC. "I spat out, getting annoyed.

"Not now, Fluer. Please. " Miguel spoke to me, turning his attention back to the man.

"Was she.. American?" Miguel spoke.

"No.. spoke English, but she was latina i think. Young. She sounded young. " the man replied. He looked so scared, but I knew it was a guise. I walked to Nestor who was playing with various knives, and picked up a machete.

"Unless you plan on getting your shirt stained and having a meltdown, put it down." Nestor spoke, not bothering to even look at me.

"Nestor, I think you did your braids too tight. You're forgetting I don't have meltdowns over blood on me.. you forget so easily." I cupped his face, smiling.

I walked away from him with the weapon in hand, towards the man. As Miguel turned around I lifted the weapon, and swung it down on the man's arm. He cried out in pain, obviously. His blood splattered on my face, my clothes..

Some of the Mayans who weren't familar with me looked at me in terror, my father simply shook his head and Miguel sighed, shaking his head.

"Nicole... we have people for that. " he spoke, but I put my hand up.

"He basically took food out of Cristobal's tummy. It needed to be done. Besides.. pigtails over there shouldn't be the only one to have fun" i replied. I walked back over to Nestor smiling. The look in his eyes was something different and I just stared at him, using his button up to wipe the blood off my face quickly.

"Dont ever doubt me again, pigtails. " I said quietly to him and walked back outside.

This was going to be fun.

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

Chapter Seven is live now! Something in the Orange AO3 Something in the Orange Wattpad

[ravennaortiz]

Come get yourself a slice of magic!

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

[juicesgf]

Last Line Tag Game

thank you for the tag @ravennaortiz

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

this is from a little blurb i randomly started writing last night!

Somebody Loved him. He’s never been loved.

No pressure tags: @juancarlos-ortiz @dallianceangel

[ravennaortiz]

October 5th is EZ with the prompt: I don't get why your mad. Because you said you would kill me. As always 18+

EZ stood dazed and confused as he watched you pack. His fingers nervously turning his phone over in his hands. Maybe he should text or call Angel. Surely his brother might be able to help him out. Hell he had no idea what he needed help with exactly. All he knew was the romantic dinner and hayride had went to hell in spectacular fashion.

One minute you two had been sneaking quick pecks as you two tickled each other with pieces of straw. Being tossed side to side with each bump of the wagon as it made its way through the field and woods. The only light being that of the jack o lanterns that dotted the area and the moon overhead. The next he had been chasing after you as you ran through the parking lot. Your face soaked with tears and makeup.

“Ba” started EZ as he reached out to touch you.

“Don’t touch me!” you snapped as tears continued to stream down your face. You shoved past him bags in hand but he blocked your path.

“I do not get why you are mad. Please talk to me. Tell me what I did” begged EZ as he dropped to the ground in front of you. He watched as your lower lip trembled and you sniffled as you looked down at him. Your eyes red rimmed, swollen and shiny from the tears that had spilled.

“I’m not mad. I’m hurt and upset because you said you would kill me” you whispered as new tears slid down your cheeks. EZ scrunched his face as he tried to remember when he had said that.

“Do you mean when we were talking about how we would handle a zombie outbreak?” inquired EZ as his mind registered that conversation. You two loved watching zombie movies and shows. The shitteier ones like Zoombies never failed to make the two of you laugh and shake your heads. Others like twenty-eight days later led you two to more “serious” chats on the matter.

“Yeah….you said you would kill me if I turned. You were so quick.” You sniffled as you looked away from him. “You wouldn’t even try and keep me caged up or like remove my teeth and shit”.

EZ chuckled slightly before catching a glare from you. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.” Stated EZ as he stood up and took your bags from you. “Come here” he stated as he led you to the bed and pulled you down on his lap.

“I only said it because I don’t want you to suffer. Not because I would love you any less if you were a zombie. I will always love you. You are my zombie fighting partner for life.” Stated EZ as he kissed your forehead as he rubbed your back.

Return to Masterlist

[dallianceangel]

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐔𝐩 🐱👅💦

Hope you enjoy reading 😜

🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦

“If you want me to shut up, you’d better make me shut up,” you practically scream. You’ve been arguing for over an hour, completely forgetting what you’re actually arguing over, but you’re too fired up to give a shit.

A smirk on his face, Bishop stands up, giving you the opportunity to see the growing bulge in his jeans. He knows you’re probably still pissed off about this morning, when he got called into work early.

“On the table,” he demands. “And spread your legs.”

Doing as he says, he buries his head between your legs, driving you fucking crazy.

[ravennaortiz]

💜

Hoodie [Coco Cruz x Fem!Reader]

Lil drabble for Coco based on this prompt! Prompt words are bolded.

Warnings: None | Words: 100

Taglist: @chibsytelford

It was weird for Coco to be calling so early, but you couldn’t help your excitement as his name flashed across your phone.

“Morning, babe!”

“Morning, mamas,” he muttered distractedly. You heard him shuffling through things and cursing quietly in the background. “Have you seen my hoodie?”

“Nooo.”

He sighed. “You’re wearing it aren’t you?”

You glanced down at the charcoal hoodie draped over your form. “…no?”

“You gotta stop stealing my clothes, ma, or I’m not gonna have any left,” he grumbled.

You grinned at the image that planted in your head. “And that would be a problem because?”

[ficnation]

Chapter 1: A Delightful Encounter

Series: “The Heart Wants What It Wants” 

Word count: 1,0k+

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Baker! Reader

Warnings: none

A/n: I had so much fun writing this! All chapters will be around 1k or 2k words. This is also my first entry to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: writer’s choice - first meeting)! Events Masterlist

Let me know your thoughts and please reblog.

Main Masterlist 

Mayans MC Masterlist

NEXT CHAPTER

Angel enters the new bakery, his boots making a slight thud as he crosses the wooden floor. His eyes take in the cozy atmosphere and the pale green hue of the walls while the mouth-watering scents of baking bread and pastries tickle his nostrils. The interior is inviting, and the various tables and chairs in the central area provide a comfortable spot to sit and enjoy one's treats. He can’t help but feel slightly out of place. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his leather kutte and body decorated by tattoos.

He takes a moment to appreciate the homey vibe of his surroundings before heading toward the counter. He gazes at the array of baked goods, hypnotized by the view of colorful muffins, cakes, fresh golden buns, and loaves of bread. 

The person working behind the counter greets him in a friendly tone adorned by a pinch of shyness. The man in the leather kutte, his face obscured by the chunky dark sunglasses, merely nods in reply and gives a small wave. He feels the employe observing him as he tries to decide what to purchase.

Felipe sent him over early in the morning to get some freshly baked bread for breakfast. It was barely eight, and he’d give everything to be back in his bed, snoring away. His eyes were closing up on the ride here, but the smells of the bakery woke him up in seconds. 

Angel quickly peruses the selection of baked goods, his hand striding over the glass display case but not touching its surface. His gaze lands on a shiny, golden-brown loaf of bread, and his eyes light up. 

He looks back at the person behind the counter and nods once more, pointing toward the product before his brain finally registers the vision before him. He freezes in his spot, brown orbs glued to your delicate silhouette as you lean down to reach inside the display. 

You’re breathtakingly beautiful, standing there with a friendly smile, your eyes shining and dark eyelashes fluttering with every blink. Your hair is braided and thrown over your shoulder, the soft tresses swaying delicately against it with every movement. It’s as if every part of you is a work of art meant to be admired and appreciated. And as you continue to smile at Angel, he can’t help but be enthralled by your grace. You don’t even seem to be bothered by the early hour—there’s absolutely no trace of dark circles under your eyes. 

You take out the loaf of bread, wrapping it quickly in a dark green wax cloth. The man keeps staring as you nudge it toward him and state the price. He takes out his wallet and fumbles with it for a minute before he finally manages to find the 10$ bill and hands it to you. 

You take his ten dollars, put it in the register, and then place his change on the counter. His heart does a backflip as you part your lips to speak up. They seem so soft and plump. “Here you go, sir. Your change,” you say, pointing towards the stack of bills and coins.

“Nah, it’s fine. Keep it as a tip,” he replies, waving you off as he slides the change back to you, only taking the wrapped-up bread from the wooden surface.

You look surprised but insist, “Sir, you gave me too much. It’s too much just for a loaf of bread.” He can tell you have a good heart.

Angel thinks for a moment, then grins wildly, no ounce of hesitation left. “Not just for the bread. It’s for your great service.”

You’re flustered, your cheeks getting warmer with every passing moment—with every playful quirk of his lips. The man isn’t giving in as he flashes you another charming smile. You’re speechless. There was no point in resisting even though you didn’t think you did much that could be considered “great service”. You just smiled and served him his purchase; you do it all the time.

The corner of your peach-colored lips quirks up shyly as you finally nod your head in thanks. You take out one fluffy blueberry muffin from the display and place it on the counter in front of him. “Consider it a token of my appreciation then.” 

A beat of silence falls between the two of you as you stare at each other, enjoying the light tension that sends sparks down your body. The man is almost beaming with pride at his own charm, while you’re wondering what lies beneath those dark shades. The fact that you can’t see his eyes is infuriating—eyes are the window to the soul, after all. Just when you manage to regain your composure, he speaks up again.

“Tell you what,” Angel says, his voice low and confident. “I’d love to stop by again, just to see your smile.”

You give him exactly what he wants as you smile brightly at his words, feeling your cheeks flush with heat even more—you didn’t even think it was possible. “Of course, you’re welcome here any time,” you reply.

The man nods happily. “Great,” he says, a grin stretching across his face. “I’ll be sure to stop by often. I’m a sucker for delicious pastries and beautiful smiles.”

You’re taken aback by his words but appreciate the kindness. A warm, happy feeling bubbles within you—a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. You are surprised that a man like him—the complete opposite of what you were usually looking for in a romantic partner—can make you feel weak in the knees by such a brief interaction.

“And I’d be thrilled to have you stop by again,” you stammer out, finding yourself lost in the pull of his presence. There’s a sparkle of excitement in your voice that only fuels his smugness. 

The man chuckles, unable to hide his delight, as he turns around and starts walking toward the exit. When he reaches for the door handle, you quickly lean over the counter and call out to him. He turns around, surprise painted on his face, and you’re just as taken aback as he is at your sudden holler. 

“What’s your name?” you ask, tapping your fingers on the wooden surface in anticipation. It’s new to you, breaking the barriers of your shyness for someone you just met, but it feels so right.

The stranger lifts up his sunglasses to his forehead for a second, looking you up and down. You’re instantly mesmerized by the rich brown color of his eyes. You feel them luring you in—hypnotizing you. You’re surprised you're even able to catch the words that leave his mouth. 

“Angel,” he replies, setting the sunglasses back on his nose. You already find yourself missing his gaze on your person. “Take care of yourself, dulce.”

Taglist: @danzer8705

[drabbles-mc]

Be Here

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Can be read as a standalone orrrr if you're feeling extra angsty can be read as a sequel to Begging You

Warnings: 18+, major character death, language, hospitals, mentions of blood/injuries, angst

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Idk what was up with my brain today but I literally sat down and wrote this on my lunch break at work. It's...it's something. Anyway! Have some sadness!

Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @anditsmywholeheart @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @passionatewrites @artemiseamoon @justazzi @darklydeliciousdesires (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Even on the chaotic drive to the hospital, you hadn’t fully passed out. Things got dangerously fuzzy a few times, but you had managed to hold into a few tethers of consciousness. Very little of that had to do with actual willpower on your part, and much more to do with Angel’s determination to keep you awake.

You didn’t really remember getting to the hospital. You sort of remembered being in the van, then everything went a bit blurry for a while there, and then you were suddenly in an obnoxiously bright hospital room. The incessant beeping of machines was drowned out only by the sound of Angel angrily explaining to his MC brothers what had happened. You didn’t listen too closely to that. You knew what happened—you were there.

Your eyes were glued to the ceiling tiles above you, feeling like any movement at all would take too much effort. They had you on and off all sorts of IV’s in the short time you’d been there. None of that was reassuring. You were with it just enough to know that things didn’t seem to be looking good.

In almost perfect contrast to Angel’s yelling, you heard EZ’s voice. Calm, collected, like always. “We will handle this, but you need to stay here.”

“Fuck that,” Angel spat. “If you think I’m just gonna fuckin’—”

“Quiet down,” EZ scolded him like a parent to a child.

Angel toned his voice down a little, but not much. It was like he was physically incapable of it. “You guys can’t just—”

“Angel?” You were the one who interrupted him this time. Your voice was weak, raspy. It was a wonder either of them had even heard it over all of the machines and their own voices.

Angel was by your side in a flash. You felt the slight shift of the hospital bed as he leaned against it. He braced against the handle frame, positioning himself so he could look directly at you, and you at him without trying to turn your head too much.

“Hey,” he forced out, choked up and tears in his eyes. The brief pause in his anger allowing his sadness to take over.

“Don’t leave,” you pled.

His frown deepened, conflict flashing across his eyes as he gazed down at you. “Querida, I can’t…we gotta…” He couldn’t put the sentence together. Taking a deep breath, he gently stroked his thumb along your cheek, paying no mind to the dried grime and blood there. “They gotta pay for this.”

You tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t quite manage it. “Later.”

The anger was starting to resurface. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw. “But…”

With all the strength you could muster, you moved your hand so that it was resting on his arm. “I don’t need you to be angry, baby,” you told him, tears in your eyes now too. “I need you to be here.” You coughed, which made your whole body hurt. “Can you be here?”

As his eyes stayed locked onto yours, Angel came to the realization that he didn’t know how to do that. When things went south, he was always somewhere else, doing something else. He knew how to go out there and get revenge, how to do something, get some kind of tangible result. What he didn’t know, though, was how to stay at your bedside and do nothing but wait.

You could see it, too. You tried to give his arm a squeeze and it sort of worked. “Please.”

“Angel,” EZ spoke up. You’d forgotten that he was even in the room. “Stay. We’ll handle it.”

He knew he wasn’t going to win against both of you. he didn’t take his eyes off of you as he sniffled, nodding as he said, “I’ll stay. I’m…I’m here.”

You managed a smile, a weak one, but still. “Thank you.”

For a few seconds, the only noise in the room was coming from the machines beside your bed. Then it was the sound of the door shutting behind EZ as he left. Once it was just the two of you, you saw Angel’s resolve start to deteriorate.

Leaning down, he rested his forehead against yours, gently but firmly cupping the side of your face. You felt the way that he trembled as he tried to take deep breaths. “Fuck, I’m so—” he choked back a sob, “I’m so sorry.”

Your hand was shaking as you rested it over his. “I’m not.”

He shut his eyes tight as he shook his head. “When this is over…” his voice trailed off, not sure how to end that sentence. He didn’t know what “over” looked like. He didn’t want to admit that to you, didn’t want to think about the worst outcome, the most probably outcome.

“Come here.” You didn’t have the strength to try and pull him into the bed with you. Luckily, he took the cue. He carefully shifted you over just enough for him to be able to shimmy into the bed alongside you.

He draped his arm on the pillow just above your head, giving the illusion of holding you without disturbing you. It felt like any move might be the thing that broke you for good.

The heat radiating off his body felt like heaven. You wished that you could curl into him. “Are you angry?” you asked.

“No,” he said softly as he kissed the side of your head.

You knew he was lying, but it sounded nice. Given the state of things, a few small lies to make you feel better was something you could live with.

“I told you,” he said as he traced his fingers along the edge of your forehead, “I’m here.”

“You’ll stay until it’s over?” you asked quietly, fighting the urge to let your eyes close.

He’d been the one who was so adamant about you keeping your eyes open. Now, though, for the briefest moment, he almost wished you’d close them so you wouldn’t see him break down. He clenched his fist on top of the pillow, white-knuckled where you couldn’t see it. Resting his forehead against the side of your head, you felt the way he brushed his nose against you as he fought to keep the one last shred of composure that he still had.

“Yea, baby,” he finally said, “until it’s over.”

“You love me?” you asked.

Angel didn’t know how, despite the pain and the exhaustion, you still managed to sound so peaceful, almost positive. He kissed you on the cheek. “Always.”

You laced your fingers with his, feeling the smooth metal of his rings. “I’m glad you’re here.”

A sob broke through, and you could feel his tears land against your skin. He squeezed your hand, almost tight enough to make it hurt but you didn’t care. It didn’t hurt any worse than the rest of it.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

A few minutes went by with neither of you saying anything. The slowing beeps of the monitor next to your bed cut the silence. You could hear footsteps in the hall, running feet racing towards people in as bad of shape as you, people they might still be able to help.

Angel’s breathing had evened out even though his tears hadn’t stopped. He pulled his head back to look at you and saw that your eyes were closed. He cupped your cheek, thumb tracing along the bruised skin there.

“You still with me?”

You gave a weak smile, opening your eyes up a tiny bit. “I’m with you.” You pushed, trying to clear your throat before asking, “You still with me?”

He chuckled through the tears. “Yea, I’m with you.”

“You think they’ll bring me another blanket?” you asked softly.

Angel’s heart sank. “I got it.”

He carefully got out of the bed and went to the closet that was on the opposite side of the room. He rummaged for a minute before finding the blanket, but as soon as he did he shot right back over to you and set about tucking you in.

“Better?”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He managed to get right back in beside you, laying even closer now if that was possible. “Whatever you need.”

You both fell quiet after that. Angel wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off of you even if his life depended on it. He lightly traced patterns along your arm and the back of your hand. He tried to take comfort in the small smile it put on your face. He didn’t say it out loud, but he noticed the way your breathing continued to change.

“Angel?”

He frowned at the way your eyes were still closed. “Yea, baby?”

“Do you think,” you managed to turn just enough for your arm to drape across his chest, “it’s okay for me to sleep now?”

His bottom lip began to quiver as he let out a shaky exhale. He kissed your temple. “I think,” he held you tighter, “I think it’s okay.”

Your body relaxed into his. “I love you.”

He tucked your head under his chin. “I love you too.”

He held you as tightly as he could without hurting you, waiting for the inevitable moment. You seemed almost comfortable, almost peaceful. And then the beeps finally stopped.

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 20

Okay... this is pure fluff. Like.... rot your teeth cotton candy fluff... but I enjoyed it. I'm a fluff writer at heart.

Warnings: cursing... girly things... but that's all I can think of. Let me know if I missed a trigger.

Don't steal my shit.

It felt like only minutes of sleep when he stirred at the subtle creak of the door hinges. It was only Rex letting himself out, but Hank was immediately alert anyway. He could hear the television playing low in the living room now- the early morning news report. Taza was awake.

Hank didn’t try to detangle himself from Megan at all. Rex had the dog doors now. He could let himself out and if Taza was awake - he could feed the big dog. It was more important to Hank that Megan sleep and he be there when she woke up. 

Sooner than he’d like, Megan stirred. He stroked her hair gently and tried shushing her back to sleep, but gave up when her eyes popped open. “Easy, Princessa, go back to sleep. You’ve only had three hours or so.”

Megan yawned. “What time is it?”

“Almost six. Go back to sleep. You need some rest.” He pressed a kiss between her eyebrows. 

“Tía Diana and Tessa are here though…”

“And they’ll still be here in a few hours. And you and Venus don’t have any plans until lunch. Rest.” He cradled her close to him. “Please? Try for me?”

Megan cuddled into the warmth of his bare skin as he stroked her back gently. The repetitive motion lulling her back into a bit of a doze. She yawned. “Papa will need….” she yawned again “...breakfast.”

Hank chuckled and continued to pet her back soothingly. “I promise you, mi amore, your papa can feed himself,” he murmured so it was a deep, comforting rumble in his chest that she could feel. “Just close your eyes for a little bit longer…”

Megan’s eyes closed and she nuzzled closer. “Just a little bit…”

He smiled as she dozed back off and closed his own eyes for a little more sleep.

Megan woke a few hours later, still cuddled as close to Hank as she could get with her sling on. His breathing was still deep and even which meant he was still asleep. She took comfort from the absolute heat of him in the slight chill of the autumn morning. 

Today, Hank had a yard shift and Taza had some paperwork to do at the yard. Since the accident, that meant Taza bringing the paperwork home to do while Megan basically stayed within a few feet of him reading. Today would be different.

With the other clubs in town, Megan had to at least try to show some obvious progress in her panic attacks in a visible way. So today - Hank would go to work, reluctantly - as would Taza. Megan would tag along and hang out in the bar with Venus, Tía Diana, and Tessa. Maybe they’d call Mama too. See if she wanted to come over and join in. Megan was anticipating a long, but fun, day of princess lessons from all the strongest ladies in her life.

Hank stirred gently and Megan kissed his skin to let him know she was awake.

“Mornin’,” he rasped.

“Morning Hank.”

“How’re you feelin’, Baby?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her lips gently. “How’s your pain level?”

Megan smiled at him. “I’m okay. Pain level is actually not bad. It’s much better than it was before.”

“Good. We’re past the two week point now. Doctor said that the pain would most likely start slacking off some. In a few days we’ll run you over the border to the doctor there for an x-ray. Maybe the sling can come off soon.” He kissed her again and chuckled as she deepened it in her excitement.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe and the sound of Rex’s paws on hardwood. Megan reluctantly broke the kiss upon hearing Taza chuckle. “Good morning,” he said.

Megan rolled carefully to see him and smiled. “Morning Papa.”

“Marcus just called. Tessa and Diana are awake and moving. They’re going to meet you at the bar in a bit. Diana said to bring the heels she bought to go with your quince dress,” Taza said, leaning casually in the doorway.

“Okay, Papa. I wanna call Mama and see if she’ll come join us too. Maybe Letty if she’s not busy,” Megan said, snuggling back into Hank’s arms. “We can have a girls’ day while you guys work.”

The rumble of Hank’s laugh vibrated through Megan. “That sounds like fun, mi amore. Mama will love it.”

Megan sat up and stretched as best she could. “Papa - the heels restriction - do my cowboy boots count?”

Taza smiled as he realized that Megan was determined to do things right. “No, Chica. Your cowboy boots are fine.”

“Oh good!” She petted Rex’s ears in greeting. “I want to wear them today.”

Hank slid out of bed on his side with a smile. “Which jeans, Princessa?”

“The bootcut ones - I think they’re light wash - and a t-shirt and flannel, please.”

Hank went into the closet and rummaged a bit before finding the jeans she wanted. He found one of her band shirts and a red and black flannel of his that was well worn and soft. “Which boots? Brown or black?”

Megan glanced up to see which flannel he had. “Black, I think.”

Taza grinned. “Alright. I’ll start breakfast then. Burritos okay?”

“Sure, Papa,” Megan agreed. “I’ll come help in a minute.”

Hank grinned and laid out the clothes on the bed. “This okay, Princessa?”

“Get ready for the day, Chica. I can manage not to poison us for one morning,

Taza assured her before walking back out to the kitchen and shutting the door. 

Megan smiled. “Perfect.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “Gonna go get washed up.” 

“Okay.” He grinned as he watched her head into the bathroom. She’d call for him in a minute to loosen the lid on her moisturizer, so he found his work clothes while he waited. He got his jeans on, but was still shirtless when he heard the annoyed huff from the bathroom that made him chuckle. He poked his head through the door and took the jar from her to open it. 

“Thank you,” Megan said with a rueful grin. She handed him her sunscreen while he was there. “Could you…”

He unscrewed that top too. “You’re welcome, Princessa.” He chuckled and kissed her hair before going to finish getting himself dressed. 

As he was pulling his denim work shirt on, Megan came out of the bathroom. He loved how she looked so calm in the morning after her routine. “Ready for clothes?”

“I think so…”

Hank helped her get dressed in her bootcut jeans and band shirt before she pulled on her cowboy boots. The heel on them gave her the slightest boost and Hank couldn’t resist ogling how they made her ass look in those jeans. They threaded her belt through the belt loops with her belt knife on it. Megan tucked the third street fighting knife into the left side of the belt. The other two were still in her kutte. They got her holsters on her too. She picked up her bag of hair stuff and was ready to go. 

They met Taza at the table just as he finished the breakfast burritos. “Ah. Ready to take on the day.” Taza kissed her hair as she stirred sugar and cream into her coffee. “We can braid your hair after we eat.”

“Actually, Papa, I think I want to leave some of it down. Tessa mentioned wanting to play with it last night. Can we do what we did for the bonfire?” She smiled as Hank sat a shoe box down under the hooks that held their kuttes.

Taza smiled. “Sure we can. You girls gonna turn the bar into a beauty parlor?”

That made Megan laugh. “Maybe a little, but we’ll turn it back into the clubhouse when we’re done. Promise,” she said as she sat in her seat at the table.

Hank smiled. “I sent Mama a text while you were in the bathroom, mi amore. She said she’d meet us there for your girls day.” 

“Oh good! We can do Quince lessons…”

Taza slid a plate in front of her. “And Coco said Letty would be free sometime after lunch. She’s got homework to do first, but he’ll pick her up after her lunch break to come join the fun.”

Megan smiled and picked up her burrito. “So… Mama, Tía Diana, and Tessa this morning with Venus and Letty joining us in the afternoon - are you sure you guys don’t mind us using the clubhouse?”

Taza laughed, “We’re sure, Chica. Your tíos are going to be meeting with Chibs and maybe Tig later in Templo, but other than that - it’s yours for the day.”

Hank pressed a kiss to her temple as he sat down. “Just have fun.”

When they arrived at the clubhouse, Diana’s Escalade and Mama’s car were already parked. Hank got out of the mustang and came around to help Megan with the door and her seatbelt. “Looks like they beat us here,” he said with a laugh as he sat the seat forward for Rex.

At the top of the stairs, Mama met them. “Good morning mija, mijo.”

“Morning, Mama,” Hank said, stepping forward.

Mama’s hand on his chest stopped him in his tracks, making Megan giggle. “Ah - stop right there. YOU are not allowed inside right now, Hank.”

Hank’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“You heard me, mijo. Megan’s Quince dress is in there for her to try on and YOU can’t see it,” she cackled. “So kiss your princessa and take yourself to work now.” She flapped a hand dismissively at him. 

He shook his head, but he could only chuckle. “Alright, Mama. I hear you.” He tugged Megan close by her belt loops and smiled down at her. “Be good, Princessa. Call if you need me - but enjoy your day with your ladies, okay?”

Megan grinned up at him. “I will. Love you.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him softly and giggled when he deepened it, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing close. He released her finally before pecking a kiss to her nose. “Have a good day at work,” she said as he handed Mama her prescription bottle.

He kissed her once more before heading out to the yard to work with the newest commission with Creeper and Coco.

Megan braced herself breathlessly on the porch railing and laughed as Mama shook her head exasperatedly at her son. “Just like his papa…”

Taza chuckled and greeted Mama on his way to the office.

“Che - come to the bar in a few minutes,” she called. “La princessa’s dress is done and I brought it.”

Taza stopped and smiled up at them. “Yes ma’am. Just text when you’re ready for me. Don’t want to intrude on ‘girl time’.”

Mama led Megan inside where Tessa and Diana were waiting. Apparently, Tessa was in charge of entertainment because the movie The Princess Diaries was playing on BOTH televisions. Both Mama and Chuckie had gone all out and every kind of snack Megan could think of was laid out on the bar. Tessa was dancing along to a pop song on the jukebox as Diana cheered her on from a bar stool.

A dress bag laid on the pool table.

Megan greeted Tessa - who chattered excitedly about Megan’s Quince party and all the plans - and Diana - who grinned as she realized that Megan never took her eyes off the dress bag.

“You can look, Sweetheart. It won’t bite you…” Diana assured her after hugs were given.

Megan nodded uncertainly. “I’m just… nervous. What if I designed it wrong? Pf what if I stem on the hem or tear it?”

“Psh. Then Francisca fixes it. That’s why it’s done so early, mija. And she sent another dress in the same measurements for you to practice in. That way you can learn to manage your skirts and heels before the party without that fear,” Mama assured her. “Your papa thought of everything.”

“Let’s try it on. Then the anxiety is over and you can focus on the fun,” Diana suggested.

Megan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but she nodded in agreement.

Diana smiled. “Tessa - go stand watch at the door.” As Tessa scurried to be the lookout, Diana picked up the dress bag and hung it from one of the bar shelves. She unzipped the bag to reveal a true princess style ball gown. There were petticoats and crinolines galore - as well as a hoop skirt - but the dress itself was a true work of art. The base of the skirt was a creamy white with a tulle and lace overlay. As your eye traveled up the dress, it gradually darkened to the deep Mayan green at the sweetheart neckline. There were loose, draping, off- the shoulder- straps of that same tulle lace material in the dark green and the fabric continued to form a sheer halter style neckline that was its own jewelry being so decked in rhinestones. Rhinestones of all sizes and shapes dotted the bodice as well, all the way to the waist. The many tiers of lacy tulle hid the fact that layers could be removed to shorten the dress in the front for the dancing and fun of the party.

Megan gasped and covered her mouth in shock. “That… That’s my dress? Holy shit. I get to wear that?”

Mama chuckled. “Si. A dress fit for La Princessa de los Mayas. Let’s try it on.”

Mama agreed that Megan could remove her sling to try on the dress properly, but only after Megan assured her that she would tell them if she started to hurt at all.

Diana gather Megan’s hair and quickly threw it in a bun, wrapping her braid around it, to make tying the corset back easier and then helped Megan into the dress as Mama fussed with the skirts and made them lay right.

“Mama! Papa’s here with Tío Bishop and Chibs!” Tessa called out from her station by the door.

“Shit.” Diana muttered as she quickly laced the back. “Go and stall them, mija. Your Tío Taza gets first look!”

“Okay!” Tessa scurried out the door to stall the bikers.

Mama called Taza to let him know that the dress was on and that he needed to come look, then she went out the front door to help Tessa with the men.

Diana tied off the corset and let Megan’s hair back down quickly before stepping away to look. “Perfect. You look beautiful.” She smiled, hearing footsteps and motioned for MEgan to face the door before pulling out her phone to record Taza’s reaction.

Taza slipped through the door carefully and shut it behind him before turning so slowly that Megan held her breath. Taza’s breath caught as he saw Megan in her Quince dress for the first time. He blinked tears from his eyes and cleared his throat. “Sweet Chica, you look perfect. Beautiful.”

He stepped forward to take her good hand and give her a spin, slowly so she could keep her balance.

Megan giggled a little tearily. “Thank you, Papa.”

Taza cupped her cheeks and leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. “Absolutely stunning.” He smiled. “Hank’s going to have a heart attack.”

Megan giggled again and fussed with the skirt. “Hopefully not or I won’t have an escort. Does it really look okay?”

“It looks beautiful on you, Sweetheart. Do you want to show your tíos or do you want to keep it a secret?” Taza asked.

“Oh! They can see. I don’t mind. One man losing his mind because he can’t see it is enough.” Megan laughed and wiped her eyes. “Chibs too. They can come in.”

Diana slipped her phone back in her pocket and grinned. “I’ll get them.” She went to the door to allow the other men entry into the bar.

Both Bishop and Marcus had to blink back tears as well, much to Mama’s amusement. Chibs was the true surprise though. He smiled and pun her gently before kissing the knuckles of her good hand. “You lads have been addressin’ the lass wrong this whole time. Princess - cha - she’s obviously a queen.”

After that, the men retreated to Templo with strict instructions to knock before they came out of the closed room. Mama and Diana got Megan out of her dress and into the practice dress that had been sent for that purpose. They put her sling back on as well. This dress was shaped and fitted exactly the same, but it was made of remnants of material from other dresses in the factory. No two colors were the same. That way if Megan stepped on the hem during her ‘practice’ sessions and ripped it, it wouldn’t matter.

Diana first had Megan practice walking in the dress in flats. She did fairly well with that once she got used to shortening her steps in the skirts. Tessa helped by showing Megan how she was taught to walk in dance class. The corset back on the dress helped with Megan’s posture too, although Mama still said she walked like a boy.

Once Megan got into the heels, it was a disaster. She tripped over everything from her skirts to her own feet. Maman and Diana tried their best to help her, but nothing seemed to work. She was just about to give up when Venus arrived. 

“Oh Honey - no,” the tall woman said as she saw Megan get frustrated for the hundredth time. Venus came over to steady her and wiped the stray tear from her cheek. “Let me help.”

Megan nodded and sniffed. “Please, but I’m afraid I’m hopeless. Mama and Tía Diana have tried everything.”

Venus smiled at the other women. “I’m sure they have, Sweetness, but they also have never had to unlearn how to walk a certain way. I did. Now - first things first - while I’m thrilled you have a practice dress, let’s swap you back to your jeans, alright? Not being able to see your feet is not helping you.”

Megan nodded and allowed Diana and Mama to help her change back into her jeans and band shirt. Once her sling was once again in place, Venus smiled. “There now. Feel better?”

Megan smiled a bit sheepishly. “Yeah. Kinda…”

“Good. Now, we need a playlist. Favorite bands and songs?” Venus asked, pulling out her phone.

Megan shrugged. “Honestly - I like classic rock, but I listen to whatever is playing on the radio or jukebox. I don’t have favorites…” 

“Well we need music you dance to, Princess,” Venus explained.

That brightened Megan’s face. “Let’s ask Tío Marcus! He’s been teaching me to dance when Papa and Hank can’t. And Papa can help too!” Megan hurried over to the Templo door barefoot and knocked. She explained to the men inside what Venus wanted and they were more than happy to take a break and join the women in the bar for a while.

Diana ordered lunch from a nearby restaurant as Marcus chose songs on the jukebox. Taza grabbed beers for the men, while Bishop and Chibs moved a few more tables to make more room on the dance floor.

The latin music started and Marcus claimed Megan for a salsa lesson. Diana talked Chibs into dancing with her while Taza partnered Mama and Bishop with Venus. After the first song, Venus got Megan to put the heels on again. She reasoned that since Megan was on her toes for the dance anyway, the heels wouldn’t trip her up. Sure enough - Megan could salsa dance in heels. Once she relaxed into the fun, changing partners regularly, she forgot completely about the heels on her feet. By the time lunch arrived, Megan was walking comfortably in her new footwear without even realizing it.

Venus found herself resting on a barstool next to Mama as Megan danced with her papa with both tíos coaching her. 

“That was brilliant. You got her out of her head. Thank you,” Mama said quietly.

Venus chuckled. “She didn’t need much. Just needed to get out of her own way, really.”

“Maybe, but thank you for helping her do that. You’re good for her confidence.” Mama patted Venus’ arm softly.

“I hope so. Every girl deserves a hype woman,” she smiled at the older woman.

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