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mischiefnevermanaged89-blog · 3 months ago

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Gotta Be Somebody Part 8

Angel Reyes X Reader

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I sat in the little pub on the border, waiting for Nestor. I managed to get away from the two others Adelita sent to the town with me. I told them I needed to pick up some things for the girls in the group and that sent them the other way to collect the food we needed. The pub owner worked for Miguel so he knew what I was there for; no questions asked. I was thankful for that.

I paced around the little room as I waited, hoping he’d be there soon before the others became suspicious. Finally the door opened to reveal Nestor.

“(Y/N). I brought someone with me. Said they weren’t going to take no for an answer.” Nestor stepped into the room.

“Papa.” I let out, tears instantly hitting my lashes when I seen his face. I rushed towards him and into his arms.

“Hija. Are you okay?” He asked, hand in my hair and arm wrapped around my middle, holding me to him.

I nodded. “Si. What are you doing here?” I stood back a little, my hand on his face.

“Nestor told me he was meeting with you to go over details to end this and I wanted in. We know she thinks it was us. We want to play that part. Bring her down. We want to help you after what you done for us.” Dad said as he sat down, I followed suit, sitting beside him and across from Nestor.

“It won’t be easy, dad. She’s hell bent on bringing Galindo down and everyone associated with him. All because someone in his dad’s closets ranks killed her family. She’s after him to destroy him and his family. She even tried to go after his wife and son. I was able to stop that from happening and make it look like the ones who were assigned that mission were idiots and failed and got killed. I can’t let her use an innocent child like that.”

“That was you?” Nestor asked. I nodded. “Emily said someone showed up and killed all of the men except her body guards and told them all to go and don’t look back and make sure her and the baby are watched carefully.”

“I didn’t want them knowing it was me, but I’m sure you’re going to tell him anyway. Doesn’t matter. What matters is this.” I pulled out a map and paper. “This is where she wants to have the showdown. This is where she thinks the club hangs out on this side of the fence. She wants to have someone stake it out for a few nights and see when they’ll be there and hit them unexpected. If I can get her to do it just on the other side at the warehouse, that’s where we can have the upper hand. We can have every one of Galindo’s men and all of the Mayan brothers waiting.”

I looked at dad who was smirking at me. I knew that smirk. That was his proud smirk.

“That could actually work. I can get Padrino on board to get some of the other guys to come in and help. They’d do anything to stop the bitch that’s keeping their money from flowing.”

“Good. Miguel is just waiting to know when she wants to strike.” Nestor spoke up.

“Whenever you will be ready. I can go back and tell her I seen a few Mayans heading back across the border so I followed and I seen them at a warehouse not far gathering together. She’ll want to strike in a day, two tops.”

“Alright. I’ll get all the men together. In the meantime, can you hide this on you? It’ll be better than the radio.” Nestor handed me a small phone.

“Yeah. She don’t do checks on me anymore. I can keep it in my shirt. It’s small enough to conceal.” I looked at my watch. “I got to get going. The others will be waiting for me.”

We all stood and I looked at my dad. “Don’t worry, Papa. This will all be over soon and we can be together at home again.” I pulled him in for a hug. He held me tightly back.

“I love you. And I was told to tell you by your Somebody they love you, too.” He chuckled when he seen my eyes widen. “Don’t worry, hija. I know. It’s okay.” He kissed my forehead.

“Tell them I love them.” Tears threatened to fall. He nodded as I turned to Nestor with a nod, letting him know I’d be in touch.

They walked out first. I waited a few more minutes before following. When I heard dad’s bike leave, I walked out. I saw him with Hank and Taza headed back towards the border. I pulled out the phone Adelita gave me and snapped pictures. It would back up my story of them being in town and overhearing them being on the other side at a warehouse in a few days.

Just seen a few of the bikers in town.

A:How many?

Just 3.

A:Did you hear anything?

Si. Something about they were getting the good drinks from this side for a party at a place on the other side in a few days.

A:Good. Come back. We must plan.

I put my phone away and went to find the others and headed back to the compound out in the desert. As I got out of the truck, Adelita come out of the main tent.

“Did you over hear anything else from them?”

“Just that they required the alcohol to be sent to a location at the border in a few days so they could smuggle it over to a warehouse. It was a big order so they all must be going.”

“There’s only one place they can do that. We must watch so we can strike while they are having the party. Take a few with you and watch them. See what they do; when they are coming and going. When you know they are all gathered, send for me, I’ll have everyone ready.”

I nodded. I took three of the newer recruits with me. At least they wouldn’t question me when I told them any thing to do. I had them load supplies for a few days and we left.

Once at the location, I gathered them together before they took their positions.

“Alguna actividad que me reportes, ¿entendido?”

(Any activity you report to me, got it?)

“Si Señora.”

“Bien. Ahora vete.”

(Good. Now go.)

They positioned themselves at different points on the border wall and ground. Thankfully where we were was far enough out we wouldn’t be bothered with border patrol. I made my perch and set up to watch. I pulled out the phone Nestor gave me and sent a message to him and dad.

Whenever you’re ready. I told her the Mayans made a large order for alcohol to be brought to the border wall for a party at the warehouse on the other side. She has me and three of my newer recruits stationed to watch it. All I have to do is give her word and she’s ready. I’ll be here until I have your word.

A few minutes later I got a message.

B:Padrino had a meeting with all charters. We’re all good to go, hija. We’ll be gathered there tomorrow night. Te Amo.

N:Galindo men are locked and loaded. We’ll be there tomorrow, too.

Good. As soon as everyone is gathered, send me word and I’ll send word to Adelita. Once I have word it’ll be an hour at least before we hit the warehouse. Just know, once it goes down, nobody touches her. She’s mine.

I put the phone away and just watched. I knew nothing was going to happen so I pulled out my small notebook and began to write. Soon day turned into night. One of the men brought food up to me and left again. It wasn’t long after dark they slowly one by one began to fall asleep. I had trained myself to stay awake for long hours simply because I trusted no one in Adelita’s group in the beginning.

I kept alternating between writing and keeping watch for anyone coming. Sunrise was slowly coming up, and it was beautiful. The vast nothingness of the border desert made it even more so. I had only wished I had Angel there with me. He kept me going. I knew I had to go one more day before I could see him again and could hold him.

As the day went on so did the watch. Small messages coming in from both sides checking in made it go by that much faster. Soon the time was approaching.

B:Everyone is gathered. We’re ready. Mayans are scattered about inside the warehouse.

Good. Once we’re in, she will have men sneak in every entrance. Have men ready to take them down quietly so she doesn’t suspect you know.

N:Galindo men will be stationed outside hiding away so no one can see us. We’ll take out any from the end quietly and trap them inside once you’re in.

Copy. Let’s take this bitch down.

I whistled for my men to gather. I sent Adelita a message.

It looks like they’re all there. Many bikers have shown up.

A:Good. We’ll meet you at the border in twenty. We hit them within the hour.

“Prepararse. Salimos en veinte. Prepárate para una pelea.“

(Get ready. We leave in twenty. Prepare for a fight.)

The men nodded and began packing everything into the truck. True to her word, Adelita was there within the twenty minutes. We made our way out of the makeshift gate once the sun was going down as to not be seen as easy. I knew Nestor and his men would see us coming from a mile away.

When we were less than half a mile away, Adelita stopped us.

“Cubra todas las salidas. Mátalos. Nadie vive.”(Cover every exit. Kill them. No one lives.)

She said to everyone. She gave some of the men the tasks of taking every exit. The closer we got the more I wanted to end this. I kept reminding myself this was for my family. I nodded to her that I’d take the rear while she took the front with Pablo. Once at the warehouse everyone split up.

I turned to look out into the dark. I whistled. Then all hell broke loose.

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I’m sooo sorry it took so long to get this part out!! Life has been a bitch lately!!! I’m hoping to have this little gem finished soon!! Thank you for sticking with me my lovelies!! 💜

@ravennaortiz

@spnaquakindgdom

@meera10

#angel reyes #mayans imagine #angel reyes x reader #mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans fanfic #mayans fx

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pascalispretty · 2 years ago

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The Poetry of the Body: One

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Discussions of pregnancy, implied age gap, hair pulling, choking, biting, scratching, dirty talk, breeding kink, D/s vibes, Miguel being himself, heavy petting, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, daddy kink. AU where Emily doesn't exist.

Summary: You and Miguel discuss the possibility of expanding your family, and negotiate the details.

A/N: thanks to my beloved @misscharlielulu for all her love and support in getting this finished. Title of the fic is from 'La llama doble. Amor y erotismo' by Octavio Paz. Title of the chapter comes from the Pablo Neruda poem 'My Lovely One', which is quoted within the fic (see end of work for translation). Written to fulfil the 'breeding kink' prompt for @storiesofsvu2-0's bingo!

One: My Homeland Is In Your Eyes (ao3)

It’s late by the time you and Miguel come home. The house is quiet; the guards near-silent as they patrol the perimeter, the rest of the household fast asleep. As soon as you get through the front door you kick your heels off, wanting to preserve the peace that’s settled over the house. At the top of the stairs, where Miguel makes to turn left, you tug on his hand.

“I wanna see Cristóbal,” you whisper, aware that the wine from dinner makes you sound as tipsy as you feel.

“Don’t wake him,” he says after a moment and follows your lead down the hall, your footsteps muted by the thick carpet. Your husband’s hand is warm in yours as you carefully push open the door of your son’s room. The light from the hallway spills into the nursery, just enough to illuminate Cristóbal sleeping soundly in his bed. The tangle of his dark curls stands out starkly against his light sheets – you feel an overwhelming urge to tiptoe across the room and press a kiss to his head.

Instead, you hover in the doorway with Miguel and content yourself with blowing him a kiss. Any more would risk waking him.

“See?” Miguel whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Safe and sound.” He squeezes your hand reassuringly, and you both watch as Cristóbal nuzzles closer to his stuffed rabbit. The nursery door closes with a soft click and this time you let Miguel lead you by the hand to the other end of the house and your bedroom.

“It’s unfair, you know,” you start once your bedroom door closes behind you. Miguel half turns on his way into the en suite, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“How much he looks like you.” You boost yourself up on the bathroom counter, getting comfortable as you undo Miguel’s cufflinks for him. Miguel smiles at you, chucking you playfully under the chin once you’re done.

“You say that as though it’s a bad thing,” Miguel replies, toeing his dress shoes off. The bathroom always looks a mess after a night like tonight, clothes thrown in the vague direction of the hamper and your makeup strewn everywhere until you can be bothered to straighten everything up.

“It’s not bad,” you protest, watching intently as Miguel takes his phone out of his pocket so he can shrug his grey blazer and vest off. “It just feels very unfair that I did all the hard work, but he’s the spitting image of you.”

“Sorry, querida. You’re going to have to take that one up with God.” You roll your eyes at your husband’s teasing, hopping down from the counter.

“God’s got nothing to do with it. Certainly not where you’re concerned.” It’s a mischievous jab, one that takes you dangerously close to precarious ground. You at least have the wherewithal not to call him ‘el Diablo’ to his face. Turning around, you glance up at Miguel’s reflection in the mirror to study his reaction, pleased that he seems more amused than annoyed.

“I’m not about to let anything else take credit for my exceptionally good genes. I just hope he has his mother’s brains.”

“And his father’s humility.” You flick the tap on, and open the drawer beside it to get your pills. The alarm had gone off on your phone at dinner, prompting you to take it, but that had been hours ago. Only the topic of conversation reminded you of it.

Before you can attempt to wrest one of the tiny pills from the package, you feel one of Miguel’s arms loop tightly around your waist, his body moulding against yours. He reaches forward to turn the faucet off again.

“Don’t take it.” Miguel rests his chin on your shoulder, and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. For a long moment, you just look at him, wondering if you heard him right. This time, there’s no teasing in his expression; his lovely dark eyes are full of sincerity.

“Miguel-” you start, not even sure where to begin.

“What? We’ve talked about it. We could see if this one looks more like you.” He presses closer, his beard prickling your neck and his gaze unwavering.

“...in a vague, ‘someday’ kind of way. We should at least have an actual, sober conversation about having another baby.” You fidget idly with the pack of birth control pills still in your hand. Miguel was right; you had talked about it, on-and-off since before Cristóbal was even born.

Before you had gotten pregnant with your son, the answer had been an unwavering ‘yes’. Two children had felt like a good number; little siblings who could play and grow together. And even now, the idea tugs on your heartstrings, the thought of your precious family expanding to welcome another perfect baby.

And yet.

“I- Miguel, it was so hard with Cristóbal.” It’s a severe understatement. He sighs softly, arms squeezing you tighter.

“I know, amor. But we’ll know what to expect this time. And you know I’ll always take care of you.” Miguel dips his head to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. Your hesitation is weakening by the second, soothed by Miguel’s touch and his promise.

“Even when I get fat and hideous again?” You ask, running the fingers of your free hand along his forearm.

“You weren’t fat, you were pregnant. How could you possibly be hideous, full of our baby?” He trails more kisses along the curve of your shoulder and neck, and you tip your head back to allow him better access.

“You just say that because you were into it,” you huff, but Miguel ignores you in favour of nipping your throat. He could hardly deny it anyway; from the first shy curve of your belly, he had been intensely preoccupied with the changes his baby was wreaking on your body.

The relentless assault on your reserve escalates when your husband presses his leg between yours, providing the barest amount of pressure at the apex of your thighs. Your cocktail dress isn’t so accommodating; you’re certain you hear some of the stitches pop as he tries to force your legs further apart. It’s so hard to think straight with his mouth at your neck and his thigh against your centre, that familiar tightness in your core just starting to build.

You let go of the pills, the packet clattering as it falls from your fingers and into the sink.

“I want a real conversation about this tomorrow. Sober. Uninterrupted,” you manage between shaking breaths. The hard line of his cock presses insistently against the curve of your backside, and your eyes practically roll back in your head at the feeling.

“Fine,” Miguel says between kisses, backing off just enough to turn you around to face him.

“I mean it,” you try even as he encourages you up to sit on the bathroom counter. Your fingers grip the front of his black shirt, and you have to fight the urge to pull it open and send buttons scattering over the floor.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight’s mine.” Miguel steps between your legs and tries to kiss you, but you lean back.

“Tonight’s yours, jefe. But if we’re trying again, I want to be seduced. Make it something I want.” Your fingers start working open the buttons of his shirt as he gives you an amused smile.

“I can’t conjure up another thunderstorm, mi amor,” he starts, and you pout up at him. In a hormonal haze when you were pregnant with Cristóbal, you had become convinced he’d been conceived during one of the rare thunderstorms that rolled across the desert. The oppressive August heat had broken for a little while, and you and Miguel had made good use of the time.

“If you don’t like my terms-”

“The terms are fine, I’m just tempering your expectations. Short of arranging an act of God for you, what kind of seduction do you want?” He trails his fingers up the inside of your thigh, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw gently. You swallow thickly, the way he’s looking at you making you feel delirious with need.

“Do you want me to be sweet with you, baby?” The hand on your thigh slides under the hem of your dress, higher, until his fingertips brush against your silky underwear. He knows you, knows what you need; for him to supplant your anxieties with something dark and thrilling. You don’t miss the brief, smug smirk when he registers how wet you are already, and he makes a soft, contented noise in the back of his throat.

“My pretty baby. I can be sweet with you if you want me to be. Bring you roses and compare you to poetry. ‘Mi patria está en tus ojos, yo camino por ellos, ellos dan luz al mundo por donde yo camino…’” Miguel leans in to kiss you again, and you don’t pull back this time. Using Neruda and pet names against you is underhanded at best, but you can’t argue with it, not when you’d asked for a seduction.

Miguel’s mouth slants over yours, stealing your breath with the depth of the kiss. You can taste the whiskey from dinner on his lips. His fingertips press more firmly against your cunt, finding your clit through the silk, and you whimper against his mouth as heat radiates through your body. You’re so caught up in the way his hand between your legs is petting at you that you don’t notice his other hand shifting. He grabs a fistful of your hair with no warning, the sharp pain in your scalp eliciting a stunned cry from you. The feeling dances right along that knife edge of pleasure-pain, one that you’ve become intimately familiar with since you met Miguel.

“Or do you want a different kind of seduction?” He asks, ignoring your needy whine when he stops stroking your clit. The hand in your hair tugs down, forcing you to arch your back and expose your throat to him. More stitches pop as he steps closer between your legs, your dress riding up your thighs as you try to accommodate him. He leans down until your noses bump, his dark gaze unwavering.

“Should I be mean to you, mi amor? Cruel, demanding?” His free hand finds your throat, his palm burning hot against your skin. Your nails catch at his black undershirt, clawing at the soft fabric. The silk of your dress and the slick marble of the counter leaves you feeling like you’re slipping inexorably forwards, towards Miguel. He gives a little shake of your throat; he’s barely applying any pressure, but your breath hitches anyway.

“I know how much you like it, mijita. You like it so much it makes you feel wretched,” he murmurs, and you can’t argue with him. Even the condescending way he calls you ‘mijita’ does something inexplicable to you, sending heat rushing through your veins, scorching you from the inside out.

“Fuck, Miguel-” you gasp out, your eyelashes fluttering closed. He could have you right here on the unforgiving bathroom counter and you’d only urge him on. Instead, he hauls you upright, steadying you when your knees nearly buckle under you, and kisses you again. His beard rasps against your skin, his tongue dips between your lips, and it all works in concert to make the ache in your core feel so overwhelming that you might cry.

The two of you stumble towards the bedroom together, neither of you willing to break apart for long enough to find your way more easily. You manage to get Miguel’s shirt and undershirt off finally, and you feel immensely gratified by the soft groan you pull from him when you drag your nails down his chest. You stop at the foot of the bed, Miguel reaching behind you to try and find the zipper of your dress.

Part of you wants to tell him not to bother - with all the sounds of stitches ripping earlier, the delicate silk is probably beyond saving - but you take the opportunity while his hands are occupied to run your fingers through his dark curls. He’s always so put together for the rest of the world, but you adore messing with his hair; on rare occasions, he’ll let you comb your fingers through it while he rests his head in your lap.

More stitches pop when Miguel finally gets the zipper undone and shoves your dress abruptly down your body, leaving it in an expensive pile on the floor as he focuses his attention on your bra. By the time he has you completely stripped, your chest is heaving as you try to catch your breath between kisses, your heart beating a rapid tattoo against your ribcage.

“Bed,” he orders, even as he pushes you back onto the mattress. You do as you’re told, moving back until you reach the pillows and kicking the heavy duvet out of the way. Sitting with your back to the tufted headboard, you watch with hungry eyes as Miguel undresses the rest of the way. Your reaction to the sight and sound of him undoing his belt is practically Pavlovian; you can feel more slick pooling between your thighs as he does it.

You drink in the sight of him greedily, eyes trailing over tanned skin and firm muscle. It’s a mutual act of voyeurism. He’s eyeing you predatorily, like he’s deciding on how best he wants to devour you. Neither of you takes your eyes off one another for a long moment, even as he moves to kneel on the bed at your feet.

Miguel’s large hands cup your ankles first, his thumbs sweeping over the delicate jut of bone before sliding up your calves, your thighs, higher. You’re pliant for him, letting him open your legs so he can kneel between your thighs, so agonisingly close to where you want him most. It’s only as he spreads his hands over your hips that you realise what he’s looking at, and you squirm in discomfort.

“Miguel, don’t-” you start, automatically trying to bring one of your hands down to cover your c-section scar. He ignores you, batting your hand away before grasping your hips again. His thumbs rub circles over your hipbones, just inches away from the scar you can’t stand.

“Oh, mijita,” he murmurs, condescension creeping into his voice again. “This is Galindo territory. If I wanted to keep you in this bed until something stuck, I could.” As distractions go, it’s excellent. Your mind spins off in half a dozen directions at once. By the tone of his voice, you know he’s not referring to Santo Padre when he’s talking about territory.

Whether he means either your bed or your body, you’ll gladly cede control to him like this.

The feminist in you should feel ashamed at the way you crave his dominance and displays of strength, but you’d abandoned yourself to it years ago. He’d long since discovered that it was the perfect way to get you out of your own head.

Miguel’s hands move up from your hips, coming to rest on either side of your head as he stretches his body out over yours. You wrap yourself around him eagerly, cradling his hips with your thighs and wrapping your arms around his broad torso so you can clutch at his back. The warm weight of him on top of you sends you squirming, seeking some sort of relief for your aching cunt.

You surge forward and kiss him hard, whimpering against his mouth when you feel one of his hands slip between your bodies. He wraps his fingers around his cock, his knuckles brushing your slick folds and you flick your hips to try and chase the brief touch.

“You’re so wet,” he manages, dragging the head of his cock through your slit. The feeling makes you wail, your cunt clenching pathetically around nothing. “I’m going to fuck you full, baby.”

“God, do it, do it-” you gasp out, cutting yourself off with a sharp cry when he finally stops teasing and slides into you, burying himself to the hilt. Wet as you are, it’s still a stretch as he fills you, dragging you right back along that pleasure-pain knife edge. The two of you groan together when he bottoms out, your hands skittering along his back as you search for purchase and your eyes squeezing closed.

Your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders when he pulls most of the way out, as though you can claw him back down to you. He doesn’t need the encouragement to sink back in again, but you swear you feel him pulse inside of you when you scratch your way down his back. Normally scratching at Miguel like that would get you punished, but he barely even falters as he starts to fuck you properly.

Every hard thrust of his hips sends more heat licking through your veins, pleasure coiling so tightly in your belly that you can barely breathe. You can feel every low groan rumbling through Miguel’s chest as it escapes him. It’s impossible to tell where he ends and you begin, his cock pushing up against the very end of you.

His hands, his huge hands that you love so much, settle on your waist and hold you tight so you don’t shift up the bed. The way he moves you so easily makes you feel helpless in the most thrilling, perverse way. He could crack you in two, and you’d only thank him for it. And now, with the weight of him on you and his grip on your waist, all you can do is lie there and take what he gives you.

“Miguel-” His name escapes you as a pathetic little mewl between moans, and when you force your eyes open you nearly black out. He’s looking down at you with an intensity that makes you want to sob, a vivid reminder of the pleasure he took in trying to get you pregnant the first time. You’re agonisingly close to the edge, the muscles in your core cramping from being held taut for so long, and you try to shove one of your hands between your bodies.

It doesn’t work. There’s not enough space between you, you can’t move Miguel’s solid chest enough to get room to slide your hand down, and you really do sob this time in frustration.

“Miguel, please,” you manage, grabbing at one of his hands. “Please, please, I’m so close, I just need your fingers, please.” You’re in no state to eloquently ask for what you want; you’re surprised you can even recall your own name right now. You throw your head back in anticipation when Miguel takes your cue, his pace unchecked even as he slides his hand between you to find your clit.

A ragged sound rips out of your mouth as he strokes your clit. There’s no technique to it, but it doesn’t matter; every pass of his fingers sends you spiralling higher, your body bearing down on him as you teeter on the brink.

“Oh fuck.” Your voice sounds wrecked even to your own ears. “That’s it, ‘m so close, please Daddy, please Daddy-” you chant, until the tension in your belly suddenly snaps and sends you hurtling over the edge. Heat washes over your body, radiating out until you find yourself balling your fists and curling your toes at the intensity.

Before you’ve even stopped trembling, Miguel’s hand finds your throat again and squeezes. It’s not enough pressure to cut your air off completely, but it’s enough to turn your moans into weak gasps. Your hands catch his wrist, urging him on, trying to get him to press tighter. You hope he leaves bruises. The sharp movements of his hips turn savage and he fucks you harder into the mattress as he presses down on your throat. You feel drunk on him, your head swimming as you try to clench down on him, to help him find his release the way he’d helped you.

Miguel comes with a loud groan, his fingers tightening on your neck as he forces himself closer, trying to come as deeply in you as he can. The hand on your throat slackens, and you take a deep, gulping breath as you wait for your husband to come back to himself. His weight drops onto you as his muscles slacken and you wrap your arms around him.

You let your eyes fall closed and run your fingers down his back, smiling to yourself when you feel him press kisses down your sternum.

“Good girl,” he whispers against your breast as he pulls out of you, rolling off you and onto his side. You whine at the loss of him, still trying to catch your breath. It makes you jump when he touches your thigh unexpectedly, tugging it towards him. Still, you don’t bother to open your eyes until you feel his fingers at your cunt again.

“Miguel-” you start, opening your eyes and looking down just in time to see him catch a drop of his come that had leaked out of you with his fingertip, and push it abruptly back into you. He must register the surprise on your face because he gives you that smug smile again.

“You promised me that tonight was mine. Give Daddy half an hour and he’ll be able to go again, there’s my good girl,” he murmurs, half-dragging you into his arms. As much as you want to relax against his chest, you can’t help but pout up at him. It’s so casually condescending, but he had it right earlier; you like it so much, beyond all sense. Miguel notices the expression on your face, and the smirk on his face widens.

“It’s not my fault you’re a terrible negotiator.” Miguel smooths your hair down and runs his hand down your back. You concede, letting yourself go boneless as he palms your ass, pressing you closer to him. “So smart, but so susceptible to my charms.”

Taglist: @misscharlielulu, @avengersfan25

Poetry Translation: Mi patria está en tus ojos, yo camino por ellos, ellos dan luz al mundo por donde yo camino // My homeland is in your eyes, I walk through them, they light the world through which I walk.

#k2023bdaybingo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc

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mrsamaroevans · 1 year ago

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I Got You

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Reader.

Request: No.

Words: 770.

Warnings: Murder. So… I needed to write this ‘cause the other day I needed to see gifs of Miguel on season 5 ‘cause he looks gorgeous (fight me) and I still have two episodes left from the show so… I got spoilered (idk if that’s actually a word lol). I needed to give him a different ending so… probably there are spoilers in this? I don’t know… just, read carefully if you haven’ finished the show yet. (I’m very offended, tbh).

A/N: Gif not mine!

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“Put the gun down”

Your husband's eyes locked with yours. He had a face you couldn’t quite decipher; as if he was surprised but glad that you were there, but at the same time, fear crossed his gaze. The metal in your hands felt cold and wrong. It wasn’t the first time you held a gun, but it was the first time you were attempting to use it to hurt someone.

“(Y/n)…” His voice. That familiar voice. The voice that used to calm you down whenever you were about to cry. The voice from whom you heard the best bits of advice. The same voice that you thought you were gonna hear forever.

‘Cause he was supposed to be your family. He was supposed to be there for you, he was supposed to protect you and never hurt you.

But he was there… with a gun in hand aiming at your husband. But it was like he was aiming at you.

“Ezekiel… put the gun down,” you said again. Your voice almost trembled and that only made you angrier. Ez was in your house about to kill your husband and he looked relaxed. He seemed so calm even though he was there to hurt you. He didn’t seem nervous, or afraid “Put the gun fucking down!”

The gun touched the back of his head when you took a step closer to him. Ez put his hand down. His gun now facing the floor as he slowly started turning to you.

“What are you doing?” Ez asked you once he was facing you.

“I’m doing what you should have done when Angel asked you to stop this bullshit. I’m protecting my family” you told him, stepping back without lowering your hands “Drop it”

Ez didn’t do it “I’m your family”

“No” you shook your head “Miguel is my family. My son is my family… you’re not, at least not anymore”

“So… this is how it ends?” Ez asked after a few seconds of silence. He was there. The same tanned skin, the same eyes, the same Ez. But not really. It was like, physically Ezekiel Reyes was standing in the living room of your house, but if you looked deeply into his eyes… the one standing in front of you was a stranger.

“You tell me” It was unbelievable. All of it. One day you two were playing in the Reyes’ backyard and now you’re both with the chance of ending each other’s lives in your hands “Drop the gun, Ez”

“I feel like I don’t know you”

“You do” You looked at Miguel who seemed alerted and then looked at the gun Ez was holding. His hold became firmer and you knew in that moment he wasn’t going to back down “I always lived to serve my family, you know that”

“I don’t know you”

“It’s me the one that should be saying that” Your eyes filled with tears. It was him or you, there was no point in thinking there was another ending “Drop the gun” your voice came out as a whisper.

“I never stopped seeing you as my sister, you know?”

Your hold weakened and he took that moment to aim at you. Everything happened pretty fast; his arm going up, your finger in the trigger, your body jerking back with the recoil of your gun. When you realized what had happened, Ez’s body was on the floor, a big red mark around him.

You killed your best friend.

“Hey” You heard Miguel’s voice but you couldn’t look away from what you had done, so he took your chin and made you look at him.

“He was going to kill you” was the first thing you said. You felt tears in your cheeks not knowing when you started weeping “He was going to get kill everyone in the club, he was going to kill me…”

“I wouldn’t let that happen” he assured you “We’re you and I against it all, remember?”

You couldn’t nod ‘cause your crying didn’t let you. Your body started to shake as Miguel held you close. You buried your face on his chest, the blood on your face marked his shirt but he just held you tighter, as he could take all your pain to his own body.

“I want you to talk to me” Miguel whispered later that night. Your head on his chest, you could feel your hair a little wet still from the shower “Whenever you want or need to, okay?” His lips touched your head and that made you tear up again “’Cause I got you”

“I got you, too”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#mayans mc #miguel galindo #sons of anarchy #mayans mc x reader #miguel galindo x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfiction #miguel galindo imagine

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losolvidad0s · 3 years ago

Text

Despiadado, M. Galindo

Summary: When the truth of your relationship with Miguel comes to light, even more truths are revealed.

warnings: toxic!family, meanie!You, twister 👀

word count: 5.4K

a/n: Another installment to the “Reyes!Sister dating ___ and the brothers don’t like it.” It’s Not Over was dating Bishop + beef with Angel and this is with Miguel and troubles with Boy Scout. It’s been a minute! Szn 4 dropping next month!

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands ✨)

“Just let me borrow a twenty, hermanita.”

With how many times you’ve rolled your eyes tonight, they should be stuck. Your brother Angel always made your hair turn white even at your young age. Your other brother, Ezekiel, gives you both a look and shakes his head with his infamous grin. Without a complaint you pull out your wallet and hand him a jackson bill.

It’s a date night out for your two brothers, EZ with his girlfriend Gabriela and Angel with his sudden fiance, Stephenie, also known as Nails. And you, with your… no one. Gaby insists that you join them and get out of the house since all you do is work.

You are trailing behind the two couples when you get bored of feeling like the lost puppy. After telling them you’re gonna get a churro, you venture off to browse. You watch some teens attempt to master the ring toss and chuckle seeing them trying to cheat the system. It’s when you turn away to move along that you collide with a body.

Their arms grab you in time before you can stumble over. “Tienes que tener cuidado.”

Miguel Galindo.

He gives you a lopsided smile, releasing his grip on you. You swallow thickly and purse your lips, mumbling a quick and quiet thank you. To the crowd, it seemed two strangers had little run in. And besides the obvious with who he is.

But there lies more between the two of you. A story that is just getting started. Your lips begin to twitch up into a smile but you are pulled back into reality when the ringing of a bell sounds in the distance.

You thank him again and step away, getting distance between the two of you. You join your brothers and their dates once more, putting Miguel in the back of your mind. Though that doesn’t last very long until you are thinking of him again.

There is no telling how it all came to be.

Some might say it was like a lion watching a lamb. The stronger always preyed on the weak. But it wasn’t that at all. Despite the chaotic rumors and truths of the Galindo Cartel, unlike those who first meet him, you didn’t fall prey to the words of others. You gave him a chance to introduce and speak for himself.

And suddenly, all you thought was him. All you dreamt of, both awake and asleep. Certain scents could trigger you to yearn for him. Melodies that put you in a trance because he would play them for you and get you under his spell.

With the recent events involving the MC and the Galindo Cartel, your brothers being members…It's been quite the adjustment sneaking around. And Miguel was never the type to not have his way, he could care less about keeping what the two of you have as a little secret. Though you have quite a persuasive trait in you.

“Did you have a good time?” Gaby asks you while heading to the parking lot, she loops her arm with yours and you smile in response. You notice Miguel standing near the end of the parked cars. Your brothers haven’t noticed but you can feel one of them will soon.

Your words can’t come out as you see Miguel begin to step towards you, your eyes widen as you shake your head. EZ and Gaby borrowed pops truck to give you a ride. Your word vomit coming out all at once, “I think I’m gonna wait for one of my friends to come. You two to go ahead. I’ll be good.”

“You sure? Give me a call if you need a ride.” Though your brother hesitates to leave your side until he sees this friend of yours, he waves to you before getting in the truck to drive off.

By the time you swivel on your heel, you are directly in Miguel's arms. “Estas loco?!” You smack his arm, his eyebrows raise as you huff and cross your arms over your chest. He can tell that you are frustrated, the heat nearly radiating off you. “Sí, yo soy...acerca de ti.”

His fingers grasp the loose strands of your hair that have fallen in front of your face, pushing them behind your ear. His fingers trace your jaw line. The breath that had built up in your lungs is exhaled slowly, your eyes fluttering closed as his touch electrifies you.

Your arms uncross and you step forward to bury your face into his chest, his arms encasing you and large hands moving across the small of your back. Your scent has been one of the only things in this world to make him weak in his knees. He smiles as you roll your eyes, feeling the corners of your lips form a smile as well.

After sharing a chaste kiss, you enjoy the carnival but this time as not a third wheel.

You often wonder how word of the Reyes girl fooling around with the Galindo cartel leader did not spread around town. It’s painstakingly questionable but you certainly did not question it.

After sending multiple texts back and forth with EZ that’d you spend the night with your friend, Miguel had escorted you back to his little piece of paradise. Away from the public's eye to which you could fully immerse yourself with him.

And that you did. He wined and dined you til every strip of clothing dispersed around his bedroom floor. His excessively large bed had enough space to allow the two of you to roll around for hours on end.

His words and his hands. Sins directly forged from the devil himself. It’s no question why he is called El Diablo. And how you were capable of holding onto to something as wicked as he, it’s a question for a higher power, someday.

“And when will I be blessed with your presence again, hm?” Miguel gazes at you as you’re sitting in a parked care near a curb, a few streets over from Felipe’s house. It’s one of the few things you asked of Miguel. To ensure your little rendezvous stays discreet especially from your father and brothers.

A smile curls on your lips, trying to hide but you can’t help it. Everything about him makes you feel like you’re floating. His hand on your thigh moves slowly and squeezes the exposed flesh.

He tips his head as you look at him and shrugs your shoulders, “I promised my father that I would be around the house more for lunches and dinners. I haven’t been lately seeing as nearly every weekend I get scooped up by you.”

The smile is on display now, your cheeks burning as you fail to keep it contained. You lean forward and press your lips to his, smiling into it and letting your hands feel his beard. You hold the kiss for a few seconds longer. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Miguel's face remains stoic when you pull away, you try not to frown but to see him like so it creates an ache in your chest. You know that nothing in your situation is relationship goals and your incessant need to keep it a secret is even more.

“I would like to see you soon, so whenever you aren’t tied down.” He says softly and nod in agreement though the words did leave a lasting impression.

He initiates a farewell kiss and reaches over you to open your door. One of his guys opens it fully for you to get out and you look back to wave before the car takes off. You sigh and send a prayer to the universe to help you out with this.

When you turn to head down the street, your feet cement themselves to the sidewalk. A few feet away from you stands EZ and Gaby. Your skin goes cold and the air in your lungs deflates almost entirely.

Your mouth opens and only a squeak comes out. EZ is quiet but the vein prominent on his forehead speaks volumes, “Y/N, what are you doing coming out of Galindo’s car? What did you do?”

EZ steps forward and you step back. He continues to stride over near you and you stammer on your words, his hands reach to grasp onto you but you completely panic and burst out in a sprint.

You don’t dare to look back and the nostalgia of being young hits you again. When you would run from your brothers with the secrets that could have them grounded for months. They’d chase you til you’re tackled on the ground and threats spat back at you.

But you were kids then and now, the stamina that EZ has accumulated from prison and being in the MC has you beat. When you peer back once Felipe’s house is in sight, EZ is dead on your tracks.

“Okay, okay, stop it!” You come to a halt and hold your arms out in front of you to brace yourself for impact against the mountain of man brother of yours. He collides with you but holds you two steady. You break free from his grasp and smack his chest. “Cabrón.”

Your comment doesn’t go unnoticed as he huffs to catch his breath, “Talk. Galindo, why were you with him?”

“Who's to say that was Miguel Galindo? There are others who drive black SUVs, Ezekiel.” You adjust your purse on your shoulder but he doesn’t buy it one bit.

He sighs and grins, “Not in these parts of Santo Padre. And I-” EZ stops and looks over you, his face changes and a near disgusted look replaces the neutral one. It’s almost sinister too. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. Please, tell me I’m wrong.”

Your head jerks back and you wonder what he means by that, your heart picking up a few beats faster, “What? Like I said, black SUVs do not always equate to the Galindo Cartel. Okay?”

He doesn’t get another word in as you jog to the front door and close it behind you. Angel peers over his shoulder and gives you a weird look. You roll your eyes and drop your purse before striding over to your father and giving him a kiss on the head.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Angel actually doing something useful for once?” You tease as your older brother lets out a sarcastic laugh before going on about how much of a pain in the ass you are.

After you feel things are settled and you help Angel with lunch, EZ and Gaby enter the kitchen in time to eat. You exhale a breath and put on a neutral face. You know your brother is not a stupid man. With his wicked IQ and impeccable memory, you knew he noticed the difference in clothing and the whole ordeal being dropped off by Miguel.

He knows. You know he knows. You know he knows that you know he knows. And EZ has become quite a persistent person these last few months after becoming an official patched member of the MC.

The lot of you gather in the dining room for lunch and you eye EZ as discreetly as possible. He hasn’t made any advancements to out you just yet but you know it will come eventually. Gaby has a weary expression on her face and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Is something bothering you, mija?” Felipe breaks the silence and everyone collectively looks up. Gaby, pobrecita, looks nervous as she stammers and tries to assure him that she is fine.

She smiles and looks down at her plate of food. Angel quirks his eyebrows and shakes his head, digging into the bbq ribs. You pick at the potato salad with a fork and try to silence the thoughts in your head.

You keep your head down but not so much that it will draw attention to you. But nothing gets by your father in his house, “Y tú?”

“Sí, I’m just still tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You reply and EZ chokes on his drink. You look at him and purse your lips into a thin line and damn yourself. Considering he put two and two together, you are sure that those images just flashed in his mind. His baby sister and Miguel Galindo… his skin becomes flushed.

He grits his teeth together as the both of you lock eyes. Without looking away, EZ begins what would become a very difficult day for you, “Pops, what advice would give to someone who is involved in something they know they shouldn’t be.”

Your brother keeps his gaze on you as Felipe groans, it’s not the first time EZ tries to be subtle with calling one of his siblings out, “What is Angel up to now? Out with it, no games today, son.”

The tallest of the Reyes siblings chimes in with confusion as he hasn’t done anything wrong, as of lately. “Gotta be Y/N he’s tryna throw under the bus this time. What did you do now?”

You smack Angel as he fails to dodge it. When you look at EZ, he remains cold and all you want is to wipe that look off his face with your plate. “Nada! He’s mad because he thinks he is so big now that he’s patched in.”

“Órale..” Felipe sits back, “Whatever your sister is doing, I am sure it isn’t anything any of us have to worry about.” Your father stands to bring his dishes to the kitchen.

You lift an eyebrow at EZ as you cross your arms over your chest. Victory. The three of you rarely argued with your father, knowing his temper and the belt arm is still very much tangible.

“Even sleeping with Miguel Galindo?” As soon as those words are spoken, the room falls silent and all eyes are on you. Your jaw agape as you sink daggers into your brother's face.

Angel scratches his head, “Galindo? You’re fucking Galindo?”

Gaby tries to scold EZ, telling him it’s none of his business and to let me worry about my business. But just as sharp as those daggers are pointed as EZ, the ones your father has pointed at you are sharper.

You look at Felipe and blink, feeling yourself automatically cower, “You tell me what your brother says is wrong. Ahora!” The boom in his voice causes both you and Gaby to flinch.

The comment makes EZ laugh, “10 times out of 10, pops, I am right. I saw you exiting his vehicle in front of Gloria’s house before lunch. And if I was wrong? She wouldn’t have run from me when I confronted her.”

Felipe places his plate on the table and takes a seat. He looks so distraught. The Galindo Cartel is not something to engage with. It’s bad enough that his sons are involved with them thanks to the club but his niña?

“You’re going to stop. If I find out again that you are seeing him, I will make sure you see no boy ever again. Entiendes? Huh?!” Your father slams his hand on the table and his eyes widen at you. It was no use trying to suppress the tears.

You want to argue, but the innate feeling to obey your father prohibits you from doing so. But the feeling of running is very much present. When you stand to walk out, Felipe catches your wrist and stands too, pulling you to look at him.

“Do I need to beat you like you are a child with my belt?! Hm? Say you understand, ahora!” He yells and you cry , like you’re a little girl again. When you don't reply, he fumbles for his belt with his free hand.

Angel and EZ stand and call out for Felipe to cut you some slack, “Com’n pops, you don’t gotta do all that.” Your brothers step besides you and your father.

You squirm out of his hold and stumble back into Angel. You let out a whimper as you wipe your face, “I am not a child. Who I involve myself with has nothing to do with any of you. If you have problems with the cartel? That’s on you. Not me!”

EZ scoffs, “You think just because you can’t see a lion in its den then it’s okay to waltz right in? He isn’t someone you go on cute dates and start a life with. Look how well that went Emily.”

“That’s what this is about, right? Oh my goodness, of course. Miguel has taken something from you again. How pathetic can you be?” You laugh and look at Gaby, she seems so worried. “Poor Gaby, does she know that you still cry for a past relationship that would never work anyways. That Reyes temper would have had her fleeing if it weren’t for your stupid ass getting arrested. I mean… she didn’t even want to keep your baby.” Chest heaving and blood pumping.

The look you get from EZ is scalding but the feeling is victorious. He looks more hurt than upset at your comment. Gaby grabs her things and strides out. Felipe tries to hurry after her but she is out the door.

You reach into your bag and text Miguel quickly. 911.

All three of the Reyes men look at you, carrying expressions of disgust, hurt and anger. You look at each of them through a blurry vision. The tremble in your lip is prominent as the feeling tries so hard to consume you but you fight it.

“What?!” You yell, throwing your arms up in defeat. Felipe tsk’d and leaves the room and slams his bedroom door. When you move to leave, your brothers block the way. You look up to them, huffing and trying to break through.

Angel snatches your bag and holds it above his head, “Com’n, chorro, we gotta talk about this, Galindo? You know that shit isn’t right.”

You look at EZ, “You aren’t gonna chase after your girlfriend, hm?”

“I’ve learned there are things that require contemplation and time. Have you learned that?” He sneers and you roll your eyes, stepping away from the brooding men.

You stand with your back faced towards them for a moment before turning on your heal, a smile that holds no happiness or joy, “I’ve learned that Reyes men are nothing but controlling. Why does it matter if I am seeing him? You think I am so helpless that I can’t take care of myself? Do you really think that about me?”

The two of them look at one another and back at you, of course there is a whole lot of truth to your words. They are speechless and you step to Angel and hold out your hand, waiting for him to drop your purse into it.

As if he was simply a few streets over, the sound of tires coming to a halt sounds from the street. You walk over to the window and see Miguel exiting the backseat with a quickness. A few guys trailing behind.

“Shit.” You mumble as you push past your brothers. Of course, they follow you. When you reach the front door, Nestor is standing to knock but stops when he sees you. “That was quick, I’m okay.”

Miguel steps forward and grabs your hand, he steps back to get a full look at you. He doesn’t see any bodily harm but when he gets a good look at your face and sees you’ve been crying, his face changes. He steps towards your brothers who straighten their stances quickly.

“Hey, it’s fine. I am fine.” You grab onto his arm to stop him from starting what would end in some kind of bloodbath. All the men around you are in a standoff. None of them budging.

You swallow thickly, fearing for your brothers though just a moment ago you could care less of what becomes of them. The sound of a shotgun pumping sounds and from behind EZ and Angel walks your father.

This only causes alert with Miguel’s men, they draw their weapons as do your brothers. Your heart begins to hammer and your eyes jump between them all. You squeeze Miguel’s hand, “Is all this necessary? I am simply responding to Y/N’s call. And she seems to be distraught. It’s only right I know why and make sure those who have caused her this distress, apologize.”

Angel scoffs and your father keeps the shotgun pointed. Your eyes plead as Angel tilts his head, keeping his gun level as well, “Nah, seems you are stepping on private property and the owner here seems to feel threatened.”

Miguel raises his hand to signal for the men to lower their weapons. Once they all do, your brother and father do the same. A sigh of relief falls from your lips.

“Come.” Miguel says and he steps away from the house and pulls you along. You look back at your family. You feel the thread that holds you all together being pulled. When not long ago you were feeling hatred against them.

Before stepping near the car, Miguel stops and turns around. “You know, if it’s something I’ve come to learn about her is that she desires trust with those around her. I don’t keep anything from her. I don’t ever make her feel less than what she should be.”

Angel rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, “Cool story, bro. Tell us something about her that we don’t know.”

The look Miguel gives you holds an almost apologetic look, he caresses his thumb over your chin and pulls your head closer to allow a kiss to be placed on your forehead. He looks back to the three of them, “Julianna and Gustavo Yuna.”

Those names didn’t seem familiar to anyone except for Felipe. His face drops and you’re so confused with about a million different thoughts coming at you.

“What are you going on about man?” EZ speaks up.

Angel agrees, “Yeah, cut the bullshit and say what the fuck you are trying to say.”

But there was a part of you that knew. That always knew. You felt it when you were younger. Especially when your mother died. Though you spent many nights crying, you didn’t cry because a part of you died with her, you cried because it’s what you do when people die.

You didn’t cry for her because truly deep down, there was no severed connection as there never was a connection. Not to her, not to your father, not to your two brothers. Not really.

“Y/N Yuna is who your sister really is. When your mother learned of your father’s mysterious affair, she threatened to leave. But he begged her not to. So they tried for a third but to no avail. So when word came that a friend in Mexico did not have the resources to raise a child, thus came Y/N Reyes.” Miguel finishes with the sneer in his voice.

Even though a part of you knew, hearing the words out loud didn’t lessen the impact. It feels like the first gasp of air when you’ve been underwater for too long. The ache but relief from being deprived.

When you look at Felipe, you merely blink away the pooling tears. You tug away from Miguel’s hold and get into the car.

“Pops, what is he talking about? Affair? Yuna?” Angel questions his father but Felipe didn’t have it in him to answer anything, not to anyone. He falls back into the house after the car pulls away from the curb.

Angel follows after him, firing away with questions and demanding answers meanwhile EZ remains outside, unsure how to process anything. He understood clearly and knew why Felipe always held you closer and loved you harder. Not because you were the only girl or the youngest but because you weren’t his at all.

You sit flush against the car door, the sun hitting your face and warming the tears that have been falling since leaving your home.

Home. It feels so misplaced among your thoughts.

“Mi amor, say something.” Miguel says, hand reaching across to place on your thigh but you move it away. You cross one leg on top of the others and look down, sniffling and shaking your head.

You finally peer at him, “How long have you known?”

“I knew of it since before you and I began seeing each other.” At least he is being truthful. “I didn’t feel any other time was the right one to share with you. Not until now.”

Laughter bubbles in your throat and Miguel remains still, unsure if this is madness taking over you. You weren’t even sure yourself as nothing is making sense at the moment.

You begin to simmer down and huff, peering out the window, “Turn here, please. I need to do something.”

The day drug on and on, especially for your brothers. They couldn’t get anything out of Felipe as he locked himself in his room for the remainder of the day. EZ tried calling Gaby but she refused his calls, he knew she needed space.

Both brothers sat until night fell and thought about you. The thought of your safety and your fragile heart. They begin talking about how when you were all kids, you would blame them for everything you did wrong and always got away with him.

“How she would set us up, man. Mamona! You know, EZ… despite her seeing fuckin’ Galindo and how that shit isn’t the smartest move, she did look comfortable beside him. I mean, we’ve seen her with other guys and she always was, I dunno, hesitant? Never lasted long either.” Angel confesses, though the words seem sour in his mouth, he meant it all.

The younger brother of the two nods and downs the rest of the beer in front of him. He pats Angel on the shoulder as he exits his childhood home and heads to Gaby’s to try to get in some understanding before seeking you out too.

When he arrives at Gabriela's residence, he sees you and her sitting on the steps in front of the door. He shuts off his bike and pulls off his helmet.

You give Gaby a hug and head towards your brother, “Hey.”

EZ peers at Gaby who gives him a short wave. He looks back at you and you smile softly at him. You nod your head towards him, “Go talk with her. I’ll be here.” Your brother grips your chin and steps away from you.

They don’t talk long, probably because Gaby insists that he right the wrongs with you. She is definitely the mediator of the group. You like that about her. You like her for EZ.

When you had realized that you weren’t far from her house earlier, you asked Miguel to let you have some time alone. You wanted space from him but also to apologize to Gaby as well. It wasn’t fair how you shared the things you did about EZ. It wasn’t how she should have learned about Emily and the abortion.

Gaby is very understanding. She didn’t have any animosity towards you and listened to what you had to say. She even got it out of you about learning of your recent familial relations. Shocked to say the least but kind enough to let you express yourself.

You watch as your brother and her talk. You smile at them and thank the universe for giving your brother someone so patient and willing like Gaby.

When she parts with him, EZ makes his way to you. You straighten your posture and move over for him to lean with you. He clenches his jaw and wrings his his hands together.

“Thank you for talking to her.” He says and you smile, leaning against his shoulder. “She likes you a lot, I think she’s still warming up to Angel. We know how long that’ll take.”

The two of you laugh and nearly tumble off the bike in the process. Angel has always been the center of your amusement. And in between the sounds of the laughter is when you accept that blood isn’t what makes you family.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing warmth and love onto your skin. You know that he will always be your brother no matter what blood runs through your veins, both he and Angel, your father and late mother as well.

“Ezekiel, I’m sorry for the things I said. They were way out of line and I don’t care if I’m adopted. You’re always going to be my family. No matter what comes next.” You lock eyes with him and he nods, quickly encasing you in a big hug.

He sighs into the hug, “I should have given you the chance to explain but I also shouldn't have reacted the way I did. You are all grown up now, there isn’t anything I can say or do to dictate your life. I’m sorry, hermanita.”

You didn’t want to let go, you wanted to hold onto him and remain in the safe spot that you’ve always been in. It’s no question that you needed to talk to your father, along with both brothers but you also needed to talk to Miguel too.

You have EZ bring you into town to your favorite ice cream shop. This time he waits with you until the familiar SUV pulls up. Miguel exits and your brother gives you a farewell hug. The two men eye each other but give approving nods.

Miguel takes a seat beside you and notices the donas in front of you. “I got you some of my favorites. I figure you should know what kind I like, here try this one.”

He eyes the sugared desert in front of him and takes a bite, you stifle a laugh seeing it cover his lips. You take a napkin and wipe off his face, smiling. When dust your hands off, you meet his eyes once more.

“Though learning of all this has been a lot to consume, I guess finding out from you wasn’t the worst thing but also the fact that you knew all this time and never said anything is… harsh. I never thought I would be the girl to have a secretive relationship with a cartel leader. You only read about those kinds of things in books. A ver, look at me now. But I never… I never wanted to feel like I needed to hide something, especially something I am so sure about. And I am very sure about you.

“I could tell that sneaking around was getting to you. And then all of this happens… I guess what I am trying to say is that I don’t want to hide. I want to be exclusive with you. I want the right people to know. Would you like that too?” Your cheeks began to hurt. The light feeling consumes you.

Miguel takes your hand and smiles widely, bringing the back of his lips. He closes the box of pastries and stands, holding out his hand for you to take. He leads you to the car and opens the door for you.

He takes your face in his hands, once you’re both situated in the backseat and kisses you passionately.

“When I started seeing you, I didn’t expect to feel anything more than a simple adoration. I didn’t think it could be… this. In my world there is no room for soft spoken, dainty and beautiful things like you. I expected this feeling to be temporary and now I can’t get enough of you. My hands can’t stop aching for you divine presence within them. You’ve become a solace of some sort. A gift.” He continues to hold onto your face, you tilt your head in adoration, “It’s unfortunate, really. I would have liked to make this last.”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion. A moment later, from the outside and through the window, a hand covers your mouth and a chemical scent consumes you.

But right before you slip out of consciousness, he leans besides your ear, “Your brothers and father murdered my mother and I plan to enact revenge with their most precious gift.”

translations:

Hermanita: Sister.

Tienes que tener cuidado: You need to be careful.

Estas loco?!: Are you crazy?!

Sí, yo soy.. acerca de ti: Yes, I am… about you.

Chorro: Jet. (in terms of speed in this use)

taglist: @cindsvibes @kchavez666 @dearsamcrobae @courtrae89 @cocotheclown1 @brattyfics @gemini0410 @angelreyesgirl100 @jasmine10128 @briana-mishell24 @starrynite7114 @est1887 @joannasteez @amorestevens @empireroyals @witching-hour @justazzie @mayansxlover @just1bri @toni9 @doritosandjellybeans(please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!)

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x you #miguel galindo x y/n #miguel galindo fic #miguel galindo imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic

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danny-pino-group-therapy · 3 years ago

Text

A Tale of Two Brothers Part 1

Title: A Tale of Two Brothers Part 1

Word Count: 2,948

Miguel x Reader x Nick

Warnings: None just yet. Next chapter I plan to include steam, angst, and other things I don't want to give away.

Authors Notes: So this is my first fic in a long time. My first Miguel and Nick fic ever and the first fic of this kind of genre I hope to achieve so I hope you all enjoy it and I didn't do horribly! Sorry for the shitty cover image!

“Agent Amaro? Agent Amaro? Did you hear what I just said?” Nick was shaken from his daze by a firm hand on his shoulder.

Looking up into his Captain’s eyes, he briefly shook his head and looked back down to the case file in front of him containing a photo of Miguel Galindo and his wife (Y/N) Galindo.

From the second Nick saw Miguel’s face, he did a double-take and got lost in thoughts when his Captain explained the operation and that Miguel Galindo was Nick’s lost twin brother.

“Amaro?” Captain Stillman shook Nick’s shoulder again.

“Uh, sorry, Cap. What did you say?” Nick asked, looking up again.

“I said, I know it’s a difficult case, but you’re the only one who can get in with the family. Miguel Galindo is a smart man, but he has a soft spot for family. A blind spot for family even. Ever since losing his mother suddenly, he’s been in a tailspin, and it’s gotten ugly. I hate to do this to you, put you in this situation. He’s family you didn’t know you had….” Captain Stillman continued before getting cut off by Nick.

“No, he’s my blood, but it doesn’t make him family. We all know he has ties with murders on both sides of the border. You know me, cap, I’m in. I will get the intel we need to bust the Galindo Cartel once and for all and stick him and his entire team behind bars. Blood or not. Whatever it takes.” Nick got up quickly and closed the vanilla file folder taking it with him. “Tell me when and where I need to be, and I’ll be there.” He added before heading out of the bleak grey room in the FBI’s California bureau in downtown L.A.

Walking around your empty mansion on a hill felt lonely and cold even if the sun shone in, making it bright. Being the wife of Miguel Galindo had its perks, of course, like having a doting husband who loved you and would protect you always. It also had its negatives, like no privacy and times where Miguel was gone for business, which lately seemed to be more frequent.

In your heart, you knew Miguel loved you, but your mind loved putting thoughts into your head when you’d hear whispers around the town of jealous women who would claim they had seen Miguel make out or even sleeping with other women. The thoughts ate at you the more times he left the house.

Your black five-inch heels clicked with every step you took across the beautiful, tiled floors as you paced across the room back and forth.

Miguel had promised to be home by lunch, and it was now going on nearly four in the afternoon with no word from your husband or any of his bodyguards.

You had done your hair, put on your favourite makeup, and changed into a lovely blue barely-there lingerie set Miguel had bought you on his last trip. You had a gorgeous body con dress showing off all your beautiful curves that your handsome husband loved to feel and couldn’t take his eyes off.

It was meant to be a surprise, a coming home gift if you will, but now he was late, and you were frustrated and upset.

Huffing, you grabbed your heels and started towards the stairs, grumbling to yourself angrily.

“Mrs Galindo.” Leo, one of your bodyguards, entered the living room and glanced at you.

“What?!” You snapped before sighing. “I’m sorry, Leo. You didn’t deserve that.” You clenched your jaw before turning around and looking at the tall man your husband had trusted to keep you safe when out in public.

“Mr Galindo sends his apologies for being so late but wishes for you to join him for dinner tonight at seven at The Prado.” The tall, dark brown-haired man looked at you with striking, nearly black eyes.

“If I go and he doesn’t show up, I’ll kill him.” You growled, still angry he missed lunch, and you had gone all out for him, even skipping lunch in hopes he would get in not seven hours later. “You can tell him I said so too.” You nodded before heading upstairs. “I’ll be ready by six.”

Sitting in the black SUV later that evening, you took a breath until something caught your eye in the seat beside you. Your brows furrowed before grabbing the Tiffany & Co. bag. “Leo? Was this supposed to be here?” You questioned when your trusted guard got into the vehicle to drive you to the restaurant.

“Yes, Mrs Galindo.” He said before driving down the long-paved drive.

You opened the bag noticing a small card slipped inside. Opening the envelope, you read the inside of the sweet note.

“Cariño,

I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up myself. I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Here’s a little something to make you smile. Put it on, and I can’t wait to see your dazzling smile soon.

Con todo mi amor,

-Miguel.”

Your heart melted, and you looked in the bag again before you took out a square jewellery box, unwrapping the neatly tied white bow and opening the hinged lid of the famous Tiffany blue leather box. Taking out the suede pouch, you opened it and let a beautiful diamond tennis bracelet fall into your hand. Gasping, you held it up after putting the box and bag down. “Miguel…” you whispered to yourself before feeling your cheeks and face warm from the love and butterflies you felt filling you at Miguel’s gestures and love.

A Tiffany tennis bracelet wasn’t just a drop in the bucket for everyone, but Miguel loved spoiling you when he could. Smiling to yourself, you placed the bracelet around your wrist and managed to get it clasped just fine. Holding your wrist out, you turned your arm and hand side to side slightly to let the streetlights catch on the many diamonds and shimmer around the car.

Miguel pulled up at The Prado in his town car before getting out and straightening his grey suit jacket with a single shrug of his shoulders and pulling of the coat. The man strode into the restaurant; the hostess already knew who the man was by just his face, let alone the air Miguel held when he was in a room. Confidence, power, a tone that told everyone to stay out of his way and not bother him unless asked.

The young woman led Miguel straight to the back of the restaurant into a more private area so that you and he wouldn’t be bothered. “Thank you.” Miguel smiled before sitting down and looking over the menu.

“They’re pulling up now, sir.” Luis leaned in after getting a call saying your car had pulled up out front. Miguel nodded and looked towards the front of the restaurant so he could watch for you. It had been too long, and he missed you desperately.

In another corner of the restaurant, just outside Miguel and (Y/N) Galindo’s view, Nick was seated within earshot of the table they would occupy. Tonight, he started his operation to get into the family, but first, he needed some basic information. How they were as a couple and what Miguel had been up to.

Nick had worn black-rimmed glasses and had already ordered an appetiser of crackers and hummus along with a beer. The agent couldn’t believe he was sitting here now so close to a twin brother he never knew he had. His mind raced with thoughts and conflicts but knowing he had to do what was right. The cartel was dangerous and needed to be stopped.

Ever since growing up with an abusive father and wanting to help other victims in the same situations as he, his sister and his mother were, Nick Amaro had always been on the side of the law. He started in narcotics and was a detective with Manhattan SVU before moving on from the NYPD when he knew there was no growth in the department for him. He was grateful that the FBI wanted him; he was now a field agent and had gone undercover several times.

For a detective, Nick had thought he would’ve figured out he had family lying to him along the way, but maybe he is blind to family in some way, like his twin Miguel.

The raven-haired man shook his head, clearing himself of his thoughts when he heard Miguel speaking again and heels clicking on the tiled floor. He subtly turned his head to the right to eye (Y/N) Galindo as she made her way towards her husband. Nick could’ve been easily caught by staring too long, given she was the most gorgeous woman he had laid eyes on. The man had to remind himself tonight was not the time to reveal himself, and he could not take this woman, for she was already taken by his cartel leader brother no less. Nick groaned and drank his beer, preparing to hear what the couple had to say.

“There she is. You look beautiful, mi amor.” Miguel wrapped you into his arms, holding your hips briefly and kissing you tenderly, smiling against them. He wished he had just gone home and had dinner so he could get you to bed sooner if he were being honest.

Your husband slipped around you and slid your chair out for you before you sat down and scooted it back. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming home.” You raised a brow, deciding maybe you shouldn’t let Miguel off the hook so fast.

“I’m sorry, baby, business took a bit longer than I had planned, and I had a few more meetings than I had anticipated.” Miguel frowned, hoping you could forgive him. He took your left hand, bringing it down on the table with his and tracing your inner wrist, bracelet and up to your wedding band before returning to your wrist again and grabbing your hand, holding it tenderly in his. “Won’t you forgive me?” He said with a little boyish charm and eyes that had mischief behind them but looked like sad puppy dog eyes.

“That doesn’t make up for leaving me all dressed up at home with lunch and a surprise for you for nearly four hours and not a word about where you were.” You tiled your head, raising a brow, trying to hold your resolve.

“A surprise?” Miguel smirked, the corners of his lips curling under his neatly trimmed beard. “What was the surprise? You still have it waiting for me?”

“Nope…that surprise expired at four when I got comfortable and took a nap.” You smirked. “I do forgive you, though. I just miss you. It’s…it’s too quiet when you’re gone.” You sighed and took a sip of the wine Miguel had ordered while waiting for you to come inside. “Just glad you showed up tonight. Didn’t want to have to kill you or anything.” You teased.

“I heard from Luis that you would if I didn’t show. I’d like to see you try, my love; I’d like to see you try.” Miguel had an amused glint in his dark hazelnut eyes as he chuckled from deep within his chest and took a sip of his wine, swirling his glass. “I’m sorry, amor, I know I’ve been gone a lot more often. So many meetings lately, so many promising things in our future, and I can’t wait to share them with you, but this isn’t the time or the place.” Miguel gave your hand a tender squeeze.

Nick listened in curiously about what business dealings Miguel could potential have in store. Was it legitimate or illegal? All in due time, Nick figured he’d find out.

The man listened in on the couple who made happy light conversation, figuring they never would discuss business in public or any personal information, given Miguel had the reputation to keep up a perfect public appearance of a happy and proud family man.

Sighing, the tired agent took another swig of his beer and waited for the Galindos to leave, figuring tomorrow would be the day he officially met and started his investigation of his twin, Miguel Galindo.

The following morning Nick pulled up to the Galindo residence and stopped at the gate in his modest four-door sedan he had rented while doing this undercover stent. Nick pressed the call button and waited for someone to answer.

“Who is this?” One of the many guards spoke through the speaker from up by the house.

“Uh yeah, this is Nick Valens,” Nick came up with a fake last name for his time undercover. “I’m here in hopes that I can meet Miguel Galindo. I…I um, well, I’m his twin brother.” The man cleared his throat.

There was silence on the other side of the speaker before the buzzer sounded, and the gate started to draw back, opening for Nick to drive up to the big house perched on top of the small hill just outside Santo Padre. The man took a deep breath as he pulled up to the front door area, where he was met with a team of guards, all armed with guns at their sides.

One with long braids came up to his driver’s side and tilted his head, silently asking him to step out of the car. Nick did as he was asked, and as he looked at the guard, the man looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Is this a joke?” Nestor spat out after a minute before shaking his head. “Uh, sorry. You said your name was Nick Valens? Miguel’s twin?”

“Yeah, look, I know it’s all confusing, but I just found out recently and came out here to meet him. Well, hopefully.” Nick laughed dryly as he looked around at the number of guards. “If I can get past the….” The handsome man waved his hand around to the guards and cameras. “First round of approval. I thought I’d have to face his wife or family for approval first.” Nick smiled, proud of himself for making a little joke. Nestor shook his head, smirking a bit, knowing Miguel would never believe this shit.

“Yeah. Stay there, alright.” Nestor looked over to the other guards alerting them to keep an eye on Nick as he headed into the house and to Miguel’s office. He rapped on the door with his knuckles a few times before hearing his childhood best friend and boss telling him to come in. When Nestor entered the clean, well-kept sophisticated office, he glanced at Miguel, who had his head down looking at some contracts in a stack on his desk.

“How can I help you, Nestor….” Miguel drawled out, never looking up.

“Hey uh, Mikey.” Nestor started before Miguel looked up, curious and annoyed as to why Nestor was calling him by his childhood nickname, which they shared growing up and in casual moments still, during business hours. “There’s someone who’s here to see you. And before you say no, I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to see him.” The cartel leader furrowed his brows and stood up, his black dress shirt clinging tightly around his chiselled chest just right as he headed out of his office, followed by Nestor.

“This better be worth it, Nestor.” Miguel grumbled as he headed to the front door opening it and instantly finding his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Nick.

“It is.” Nestor whispered, slipping around Miguel and back outside. “He says he’s your twin.”

Miguel felt so many emotions, shock overall but betrayed, angry, joyful, and sadness. He instantly wanted to know why his mother never told him of a twin. Was she even his mother? How many lies was he told? Did this man who looked exactly like him know anything more than he did? The leader shook his head, trying to clear his mind and eyes of tears before clearing his throat and stepping forward.

Nick was shocked all this time Miguel was only a photo until last night when he got a brief glance and had heard him speak. Seeing his twin face to face made him wonder if this was why his father had been so angry all those years. Not that it gave him an excuse. He was still and always would be an abusive son of a bitch, which Nick would never forgive, but was he upset as his Ma because Miguel was given up for adoption, and he didn’t want to? He never saw his Ma doing that, but nothing made sense right now. The undercover agent had to get his head back into the game and shook his head before stepping forward, looking over his brother, working up tears.

“I-I’m Nick Valens, and I’m your twin brother.” Nick spoke softly, his voice wavering with emotion from his thoughts.

“Miguel Galindo. I never heard anything of you. I want to know more.” Miguel suppressed his emotions best he could, even if everything inside of him was screaming. He stepped aside and waved the man inside of his home. There was a familial connection there, Miguel couldn’t deny the feeling, but as a cartel leader, he always had a healthy dose of suspicion. With the many dealings, he had to make sure things were on the up and up, and everything went smoothly.

Both men had a lot riding on this meeting; it could mean a future as happy brothers, unanswered questions and feelings finally answered once and for all, or it could lead to heartache, unhappy memories, or bloodshed. Only time would tell.

Final Notes: It's a tad long so I decided to stop myself and break it into two parts. Please Please Pleaseeee comment and like and reblog if you like this or just let me know your thoughts! Thanks guys.

A special shout out to @breanime for letting me bounce ideas off her and letting me message her constantly lol. I've admired your work Bre for so so long and it was in part due to you that I decided to write my own. It was also in part due to @itsjustmyfantasyroom @mrsamaroevans @dannypinot @burningtacozombie for their fics and amazing photos and gifs of the beautiful Danny Pino. Also thank you to @irishavengersassemble for being my best friend and sister for so long and always supporting me. Okay, I'll stop, I'm not winning a Pulitzer prize here. Chapter 2

#miguel galindo x reader #nick amaro x reader #miguel galindo #nick amaro #fanfiction #nick amaro fanfic #miguel galindo fanfic #fanfiction writing #fluff #angsty #ish #idk #mayans mc fanfic #law and order svu #mayans mc #danny pino #alternate universe #crossover #mentions of other characters

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years ago

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Chocolate chip.

Warnings: soft Miguel and fluff.

WC: 817

Enjoy x

You opened the door to the house that wasn’t yours, tears running down your face at what you had faced tonight. How could everything have been going so well to then take a sharp turn like that. He was the one that made you think it was actually going somewhere. You were actually smiling when his name popped up on your phone and you couldn’t wait for that certain time in the day because it had become routine that, that was the time he messaged you. He actually understood your life, the stress involved at being the cartel bosses personal assistant, but after tonight you didn’t know what had happened or what had caused the change.

You walked into the kitchen to the freezer, opened it and pulled out a tube of triple chocolate chip ice cream, grabbed a spoon from the top draw and jumped up on the kitchen counter, kicking your shoes off, crossing your legs and started to drown your sorrows in the dessert as your head swam with different reasons to why everything ended the way it did. The tears were rolling down your cheeks and your ears were filled with the soft music flowing from your phone, that you hadn’t heard the door close and the click of his designer shoes on the tiles,

“What’s all this?” Miguel’s raised his voice over the music.

You startled, your heart beating out of your chest and face turned bright red that your boss had seen you at your lowest,

“Mr Galindo. I’ am so sorry” You jumped down off the counter, rushing putting the ice cream away and washing your spoon, all while hiding your red and tear-stained face “Won’t happen again” you picked up your heels and rushed past him.

You thought you were clear till you felt his hand grab your arm pulling you back and stopping you in your tracks, you didn’t dare to look up, but you shivered when you felt the brush of the material of his cloths on your skin,

“Who is he?”

“What?” you looked up to him with a sniff.

“Y/N, please your sitting on my kitchen counter, listening to music and eating chocolate ice cream” he gave you wink, let go of your arm and walked over to his bar cart. You looked on stunned at his reaction to you and watched as he poured two glasses of whiskey “Ven” he looked up at you with a small smile.

You followed Miguel out to the pool area sitting the drinks on the glass table and taking a seat after pulling out a chair for you next to him. You moved slowly taking a seat, worried that it might be a curl trick before you were going to lose your job for being un professional in his house,

“Thank you” you smiled small after you sat and he handed you your glass.

“What happened?” he said coolly before taking a sip of his drink.

“I got ahead of myself. Everything was going so well till it wasn’t” you sighed.

“Let me guess. He was different” he smirked.

“I thought so”

“Y/N, a man is only different if he continues to show you, he is different. If he is different, he will never risk you feeling otherwise”

“But he’s got a lot-“

“Y/N” he cut you off shaking his head “If he is different, he will show you he is different. You just have to watch for the signs. Having a lot to deal with is not enough to pull him away from you if you truly mean something, he would make it work”

“But he-“

“Medium iced latte with coconut milk, one shot of hazelnut syrupy and extra ice. Whole meal bagel with cream cheese or, if its bad day banana bread toasted with extra butter. Triple chocolate ice cream with the crown on the tube because the other one is too sweet”

You frowned your brows at him and moved to the edge of your chair, his legs spread around yours and his hands landed on your knees and you butted in,

“How do you remember all that?”

“When you have true deep feelings for someone you remember everything about them. Like when you go for a swim after your run in the morning, it’s going to be a good day and we don’t fight over work, when you go straight to your room with a black coffee, then I know not to push your buttons that day” he let out a little chuckle.

“You're my boss” you blurted out.

Miguel gave you small smile, one of his hands leaving your knee and reaching up to grip your chin and he moved more into your space, his nose almost touching yours,

“I’ am also the man that will show you how you need to be treated and how you deserve to be loved”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @gillysoldlady @ben-c-group-therapy @jemmakates

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x you #manyans mc #manyans fanfiction

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crowfootwrites · 4 years ago

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Sugar [Miguel Galindo x Fem!Reader]

I - I'm not sure what happened, because I didn't plan this lol. But it's probably because I had this song on repeat as I was writing. Miguel has been pissing me off this season, but I guess that's working for me? Idk, that seems like there's a lot to unpack there. Anyway, here's a one-shot!

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut (like, a bunch of it), unprotected sex, daddydom!miguel; language; references to sugaring (not the waxing kind) | Words: 3,295

Taglist: @chibsytelford

He had been coming in every Thursday morning for the last several weeks. He ordered the same thing every time. For Miguel, medium flat white with oat milk. An odd choice, in your opinion. Based on his appearance, you would have pegged him as an Americano guy. Or at worst, the type to order a cappuccino and casually drop the “I discovered cappuccinos at this exquisite little café on a Venice canal” line. Especially the first time he came in wearing that white suit. Might as well have been wearing a fucking straw fedora.

He sat in the café every time he came in, reading the paper and looking at you. Men did that, sometimes, but they all had the decency to look away when you caught them staring. But this guy would meet your eyes with not a hint of embarrassment and take his sweet time breaking your gaze to return to his paper. If he had been anyone else, it might’ve made your skin crawl. But the fact that he didn’t look away, as though he didn’t care that you knew he was looking, had you intrigued.

Your barista job was the way you were paying your way through school and you worked a lot. Having something like a handsome regular to look forward to made the time a little more bearable. So, your little dance with the stranger Miguel went on like this for several weeks. After the first few, you started making sure to have his order ready when he arrived, knowing he would show up at 8:15 on the dot. The first time you did that, you slid his drink across the counter as he reached for it, his fingers brushing yours lightly. You met his scrutiny with your own darkening gaze, daring him to say something. But also begging him to say something.

He didn’t. He simply smirked that infuriating smirk and took his usual place at a table near the door, opening his paper with a flick. You turned on your heel, sucking your teeth as your coworker arched her eyebrow at you.

The next Thursday, you had his order ready when he arrived, but in an effort to restore the power balance, you had your coworker bring it to the handoff. You could feel Miguel’s eyes on you as you zipped busily behind the counter, making drinks. He watched you intently for the entirety of his visit. You allowed yourself exactly three glances his way. Each time, you could tell that you were getting him riled up. You had the feeling that no one ever said no to him, and you weren’t giving him the attention he so clearly desired.

Perhaps the timing was right, or perhaps your brush-off worked, but the following week was different. You could tell something had changed when he walked in. He was all business, his shoulders squared beneath his navy suit jacket, his bearded jaw set. He looked… like he was done playing games. The thought sent an involuntary shiver crawling down your spine.

“Good morning, Miguel,” you said coyly as he approached the handoff where you had his drink waiting for him.

“(Y/N),” he offered in response, a devilish glint in his eye.

“I’d like to get this to go,” he continued, motioning to his coffee, and your heart plummeted, immediately assuming you had somehow messed this up for yourself.

“Uh, sure,” you retorted. “Not a problem.” You turned away to remake his drink in a to-go cup, mentally kicking yourself already. When you returned to hand him his drink, he was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, studying you.

“There’s something else I’d like.” He pushed himself off the wall and leaned over the counter conspiratorially, his mouth very close to your ear. His tone was smooth, with just enough authority to make your thighs clench. “You. On your back. In my bed.”

His words squeezed the breath out of your lungs. You pulled back for a moment to meet his gaze, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. Your pulse thrummed under your skin. “Also, not a problem,” you murmured, proud of how smooth you managed to sound, despite the rolodex of emotions spinning in your head.

***

“Fuck – Miguel!” you moaned, your back arching off of his 1,000 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets as he slid his fingers between your folds, his mouth and beard glistening with your juices. You watched him smirk from his position between your legs, his fingers stretching you exquisitely. He had one of your knees pinned roughly to the bed, keeping you spread for him. You clutched at the sheets on either side of you, but your hands started to wander as he found his rhythm inside you. His thumb circled your clit roughly as your fingers dragged themselves down your body. One hand found a home pinching and twisting your nipple, the sharp twinge punctuating the slow heat building in your core. Your other hand gripped at Miguel’s hair as his tongue lapped at your clit again, and you couldn’t help yourself as you ground your hips harder against his face, whining in pleasure.

Your first orgasm rolled through you like a wave, your whole body convulsing repeatedly as you rode it, wailing Miguel’s name in its wake. He climbed over you as you came down, his thick cock hanging against the inside of your thigh and you shivered, eager to be stretched around him as he fucked you into his fancy mattress. He eyed you hungrily as he moved to press his mouth to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. When you had been lulled into the gentleness of his ministrations, he bit down hard on your shoulder, sinking roughly into you at the same time, and you cried out as the sensation took your breath away. You clung to Miguel, your fingers clawing frantically at his back, as he bottomed out, thrusting hard and deep.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he rolled his hips against yours. You relished in the sounds of your fucking echoing in the spacious room, his hips snapping furiously against your ass. He tossed your legs over his shoulders and pounded harder into you, the new angle sinking him even deeper. The fire in his eyes excited you and had your pussy throbbing around him.

“Ahh, Jesus, Miguel, just like that,” you gasped, feeling the pressure building in your core. The higher he took you, the emptier your mind became, until all you knew was the ache to be filled. Miguel pulled your hands off of him, grabbing your wrists roughly and pinning them to the bed above your head, never breaking stride.

“Please don’t stop,” you cried, your eyes screwed shut, quickly approaching another orgasm. Miguel dropped himself onto his elbows to hover over you, the added stimulation over your clit wrecking you. Your second orgasm snapped, spots bursting behind your eyelids and you clenched around Miguel completely. He fucked you through it and moments later he was pulling out to kneel in front of you on the bed, stroking himself desperately before releasing ropes of hot cum on your chest.

He was breathing hard as he ran a finger through the sticky mess on your chest and brought it up to your lips. He watched with dark eyes as you opened your mouth obediently and sucked the taste of him off of his fingers.

After a moment, his face relaxed and he pulled himself off the bed, returning from the bathroom with a damp rag. He gently cleaned off your chest, grazing your clavicle with his lips. You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you, at the image of Miguel Galindo cleaning you up.

“What?” he asked with a lopsided smile.

“Hope you’re not expecting me to give you my employee discount from now on,” you snickered.

Miguel grinned. “I think I can afford a cup of coffee, querida.”

***

You were more than a little surprised when Miguel showed up at your door late one Saturday morning. You had been sleeping together for a few months by then; sometimes at fancy hotels, but usually at his home, in his bed. Well, and on a lot of his other furniture. But considering that he lived in a very expensive house with lavish trappings and armed security, him coming to your shitty apartment in Santo Padre was unprecedented. But there he was, standing at your door, while you stared back at him wide-eyed. You drank in his suited appearance while you stood before him in bare feet and an oversized Guns ‘n Roses t-shirt.

“Good morning, princesa,” he said smoothly, that notorious smirk fastened to his lips. “May I come in?”

You shifted from foot to foot. “Uh, sure, I guess.” You stepped back to allow him through.

You watched skeptically as he gazed around him. He kept his expression smoothed into neutrality, making it impossible to read him. Most apartments in Santo Padre were old and somewhat run down. You had worked hard to make yours feel homey. It was small, but your couch was new, and you had a nice TV you had saved up for. There was framed art on the walls and pictures on the shelves. If he had said anything negative about your home, the only space you had to yourself, you might have thrown him out. Perhaps he sensed this; either way, he kept his mouth shut.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you asked courteously, the nicety feeling strange on your tongue considering that not two days ago that same tongue had been wrapped around his cock.

“Coffee?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but still let the grin settle on your lips.

You padded to the kitchen and pulled out two ceramic pour-over sets, your grinder, and the most expensive beans you had on hand. You got started on the familiar, comforting process of making coffee, letting yourself focus on the grinding and the pouring and the steeping, while your mind tried to parse out what Miguel was doing here.

When the coffee was done, you returned to the living room to find Miguel sitting on your couch, gazing down at the papers you had been going through strewn chaotically across the coffee table. He glanced up at you as you entered, a rare smile gracing his features, but you caught the furrow of his brows before he looked up.

You handed him the cup of coffee with an arched brow.

“You need a better system of organization,” he chided, motioning towards the mess.

You shrugged as you dropped onto the couch beside him. “Probably, but I would need to find the motivation to organize it first. Looking at all of this makes me depressed,” you responded, only half-joking.

Miguel studied you seriously for a moment. Then his features relaxed and your chest unclenched accordingly. He set his cup on the coffee table and settled back into your couch as you pulled your legs up under you, getting comfortable.

“So,” you started, drawing the word out. “What brings you to the wrong side of the tracks this fine morning, Miguel?”

You caught the irritation that flashed in his eyes as he turned to look at you. But he eased up when he spotted your wry grin.

“Needed a break from work,” he said simply, his hands gently pulling your feet onto his lap.

“So, you came to hide out in the last place they’d look for you, huh?”

He grinned. “Something like that.”

He drew a low groan out of you as he pressed a thumb to the insole of your foot. You had worked a double yesterday and your feet were killing you. You closed your eyes, your head dropping against the couch cushions as you relaxed into his touch.

When you opened them a few minutes later, Miguel’s hungry stare was focused on you.

“Fuck, querida, the sounds you make,” he growled, reaching for your hips and pulling you roughly onto his lap, your back pressed against his firm chest. You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, his breath in your ear sending tremors down your back. His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch teasing against the fabric of your panties. Your pussy clenched in anticipation, and you moaned, a low, wanton sound that had Miguel restraining you firmly with his free arm.

“So needy for me, (Y/N).” With a quick flick of his wrist, he had pulled your panties off and let them drop to the floor. He draped your legs over his, opening you wide for him. His middle finger caressed your slick folds, frustratingly slowly. Patience wasn’t your strong suit, and Miguel very much enjoyed lording that over you.

A low rumble reverberated in his chest as he swatted at the side of your bare ass on his lap. “Beg for it,” he commanded, nipping hard at your neck. You yelped at the exquisite mix of pleasure and pain.

“Please, Miguel. Please, I need you.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, rocking on Miguel’s lap, as much as his hold would allow, desperate for more friction.

“That’s better,” he remarked as he plunged two fingers into you. Your mouth hung open in a silent cry, devastated by the feeling of him stretching you. The pace he set was savage, and you were quickly approaching the edge.

“Fuck, I – I’m so close,” you wailed, the rolling in your hips no longer under your control.

So he pulled his fingers out. A petulant whine escaped your throat before you could stop it and you heard Miguel tut chidingly in your ear.

“Up,” he ordered, and you rose off his lap. He pulled at your waist and bent you over the arm of the couch, positioning himself behind you. You heard his pants dropping to the floor before a firm smack landed first on one cheek, then the other, making you rock forward against the couch, wetness sliding between your thighs.

“Please,” you whispered, and Miguel cracked, pushing his thick cock between your folds. He sheathed himself inside you, his grip bruising on your hips. After giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he pulled out and slammed back into you, returning to his brutal pace from earlier. He looped a strong arm around your torso and hauled you up, his fingers finding their place in a firm grasp around your throat. He fucked furiously up into you, your living room permeated with primal grunts and moans.

Your fingers wandered needily to your clit, twirling around it until the tight coil in your belly snapped and you were coming, writhing so forcefully that you broke from Miguel’s grasp and caught yourself with trembling hands on the arm of the couch. Miguel reached down and gripped your hair, tugging just enough to turn your head to the side, watching you come down from your high. His cock was punishing inside you and you were trembling from overstimulation, but you knew he was close. His jaw clenched and he leaned over you, pressing his forehead against your spine, fucking you deep.

A few more thrusts like that and Miguel was coming undone inside you, his cock twitching with his release. From the corner of your eye, you could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he pulled out, immediately going to fetch a towel from the bathroom. He cleaned you up, placing gentle kisses on the red marks on your ass and combing his fingers through your hair. You grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom, pulling under the covers with you, your eyes already heavy with sleep.

A short nap later, you shuffled back out to the living room, leaving Miguel asleep in your bed. Despite your little interlude, you had to be somewhat productive today. You sighed, steeling yourself for the stack of bills still awaiting you. Your rent and tuition bill would be the priority. There had been more fee hikes at the school, so you were probably looking at another couple of months of pulling as many doubles as you could manage to cover expenses. Plus, you had to consider the cost of your textbooks. As you perched on the edge of the couch with your elbows on your knees, you scanned the sea of papers looking for the tuition statement. Your eyes widened as you located it, a soft “what the fuck?” escaping your lips.

There was a check on top of it. For the total amount of your tuition for the semester. Signed by Miguel Galindo.

You picked up the check with trembling fingers, as though terrified it might disintegrate if you thought about it too hard. You stared at it, your thumb tracing over the check amount, as you stood robotically and made your way back to the bedroom.

Miguel was still asleep, facing the edge of the bed, the almost permanent stress lines around his eyes and mouth gone. You sat heavily on the floor beside him, your head almost touching his, still staring down at the check in your hands.

“Miguel, what is this?” you asked softly, and with a groan, he opened his eyes.

It took him a moment to register what was happening, but when he did, he shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t want you to have to work doubles all month. Then I’ll never get to see you.”

A quiet hum thrummed in your throat. “This is a lot of money,” you muttered.

His lips turned up into a grin, a hint of condescension behind his sleepy eyes. “No, it’s really not, princesa.”

Your brain worked hard to process what was happening. What he was doing. “Does this mean you’re like, paying me for sex, essentially?”

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh and sat up in bed, pulling you into his lap. He buried his nose in your shoulder, his lips gliding softly across your skin. “Consider it mutually beneficial. I need something from you,” he growled, trailing a hand teasingly under your shirt, “and you need something that I can give you in return. And like I said, I would be a very unhappy man if I never get to do this,” he continued, pinching your nipple roughly, eliciting a fragile whine as your mind snapped to attention, “because you’re always at work, especially when I can do something about it.”

You nodded, a little dazed, and Miguel pulled you against him as he laid back down, spooning you. You began to relax as you talked yourself into the arrangement. You were already having sex, right? So, this was just… sweetening the pot? You imagined for a moment how much less stressful your life could be if you didn’t have to spend all your time either in classes or at work to pay for classes. You could have more time to study, more time to cook so you wouldn’t be living on fast food. And you certainly weren’t going to turn down more time with Miguel.

You chuckled quietly and Miguel squeezed your hand questioningly.

“Does this make you my sugar daddy?” you asked with a laugh.

Miguel scoffed. “Not a fan of that term, but I suppose that is an accurate description.”

You rolled over to face him, meeting his heated gaze. You wrapped a leg over his hips and threaded your fingers into his hair, desire blossoming in your belly. “What about just daddy, then?”

You watched that signature smirk appear, the clenching of his jaw hinting at his swelling arousal. He rolled you onto your back, pinning you roughly to the bed. “Now that, querida, I can work with.”

#mayans fx #mayans mc #mayansmc #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans oneshot #miguel galindo oneshot

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berberriescorner · 11 months ago

Text

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies. Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes.

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea. Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip.

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Tags:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @astoldbychae @percosim @1andonlytashae @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @crimsonheart01 @rio-reid-whoreee @mrsmontanalol @igigix @keaboyd21 @blowmymbackout @uhlxis @abcdestinyyyy @hihellogoodbyebruh @sunshine-flower @lemmewritesomeish @catxo @naughtyslashers @realhotgurlshit @peaches007 @gardenof-venus @aizawash0e @minton131 @novaniskye @90sisthenew80s @cjricks98 @skyesthebomb @myownworstenemydw @lifeofthelovelyone @tashawar @gabbywontlose @kayla1blog @skelly-baby @adg1115 @blessedboo @fandomcitysstuff @drinaj @being-worthy @sxkxna @whore4-horror @elliesrealgf @pimpsdontcryy @batgurl42 @gotbeefbitch-blog @thedopestblackgirl @nunya7394 @midnightheat @pixieyosi @imjustheretoreads-blog

@superhoeva @memeaaaa @djconde58

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mischiefnevermanaged89-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Gotta Be Somebody-Part 7

Angel Reyes X Reader

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My dearest Angel,

I’m writing this in the quiet of the night while everyone is asleep. It’s times like this I miss you the most. I miss how we would sit and stare at the sky all night on my balcony when we couldn’t sleep. I miss you every second of every day. Knowing you’re safe is what keeps me going.

Soon this will all be over and I can see you again. I take any chance I can get to leave compound to do for Adelita in hopes by some chance I’ll get to see you on this side of the border. Sometimes I think I do, but I know it’s my mind playing tricks on me.

You remember my favorite song? Gotta be somebody? All I can think about the last couple of months is how I want to be your somebody and you mine. Don’t tell dad cause he’d kill us both, but I love you, Angel. I know you love me, too. I seen it, that day that I had to leave, in your eyes.

I don’t know what will happen in the days or weeks, hell, even months to come, but I wanted you to know in case something happened to me.

I’ve got to go. Before someone wakes and sees me still awake. Until I can see you again, my angel.

(Y/N)

************************

I sat in the perch of the safe house, taking guard of Miguel’s product for Adelita. She’s started trusting me more and more lately; all thanks to my knowledge of shit from Coco and Gilly. That trust is what I’m hoping works in my favor in the weeks to come. This raid I helped with on dad and the guys is the starting line in my plan.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a whistle from my left. I looked over to see one of the guys motioning at movement in the distance. That was my que to move. It would seem dad gave Miguel my letter and he’s cashing in on that now. I slipped the silencer on my gun as I stood and walked towards the newer recruit.

With his back turned to me, I shot him and was able to catch him before he could fall and alert the others on the ground. I took out a small light from my pocket and clicked it twice, signaling Nestor and his men to begin. Once the gunfire ensued, I ran from my position and started firing.

I managed to get two more of Adelita’s men down before Nestor reached me.

“We meet again.” I said.

“That we do. What’s you’re plan here?”

“Leave me and two others alive. Shoot my arm and punch me so it looks like I was knocked out in the fight and then tie us together before you leave so Adelita finds us. Make sure to knock the others out so they don’t know I was a part of this. I’ll tell her we were ambushed and I was shot at while in the middle of everything and I was attacked from behind and knocked out.”

Nestor nodded. “Ready?”

I nodded in turn. “Yeah.”

After helping Nestor clear out the rest of the men, I helped load the van with Miguel’s product. Nestor showed me proof that dad and the others would get their money once he got back and I nodded. He aimed his gun at me and I felt the bullet pierce through my bicep.

I screamed out in pain. “Oh I’m so whooping your ass in the ring when I get out of this shit!”

Nestor chuckled. “We’ll see. Let’s finish up so I can get your guys paid and Miguel’s product back to him.”

I nodded. “Now, tie me up with those two and get out of here. She’ll know something’s up soon and come to check when I haven’t checked in.”

Nestor did as I told him to then gave me an apologetic look before everything went black.

I woke to the sound of my name being called. I looked around dazed and confused, letting my vision come back into focus.

“What happened?” Adelita asked.

“I don’t know. One minute I’m on perch keeping watch and the next there’s gunfire going off. I was attacked from behind and I don’t know anything else.” I sat up from the bed I was put in and threw my legs over the side.

“Had to be Galindo’s men. Someone is working on the inside here. How else would they know where it was being kept?” Adelita passed back and forth in front of me.

“I don’t know. It’s possible that one of the new recruits could be working for him. I seen a few of them with identical cuts on their left palms. It’s suspicious that suddenly in the last week Mini has found a few more strays on the streets and asked to bring them in.”

“Mini has nothing to do with this.” She yelled.

“I didn’t say she did. But we know how soft and kind hearted she is. She’s still a child and finding someone her age being left on the streets like she was because of the Galindo Cartel, it’s still suspicious. They could be setting us up.”

Adelita stopped and thought about what I said. “You’re right. There was two men left alive with you. Maybe one of them is the rat. We need to find out more information. My best guess is that motorcycle club you raided last week has a big part of it. I intend to find a way to stop them.”

She quickly left the tent and I let out the breath I was holding when she mentioned the club. I had to send a message to Nestor to start preparing. If I knew Adelita, it would be just a few days and we’d be on the move. I grabbed my walkie and swapped channels.

I used the signal I needed to speak. Shortly after, Nestor’s voice come through.

“Yeah.”

“Get ready. She thinks it’s the club. It’ll be a few days. I’ll signal when we move out and to where.”

“Copy.”

I took a deep breath. I had to stop her. I couldn’t let her hurt my dad and family. I couldn’t make my move yet. I had to wait. I began making plans of my own for when the time come.

***************************

Angel

I was sitting at the bar waiting for the rest of the guys to finish up at Templo when my phone rang.

“Yeah.”

“It’s me. I need to talk to Bishop.”

“Aight. Hold up.”

I walked to the door and knocked.

“Yeah!”

“Bish, it’s Nestor.” I replied.

“Come in.”

I walked in and put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear.

“What it is?”

“I just got word from (Y/N). She told me to start getting ready. Said Adelita thinks it was you guys that ambushed the site and took the product back. She said it’ll be a few days, but she’ll let me know when they move out and to where.”

Bishop sighed. “Alright. Wherever it is, I want to know. Knowing my daughter, it’s going to be the final showdown for her to end this.”

“Yeap.”

They hung up the phone and I went to walk out. Before I could get far, Bishop grabbed my wrist.

“Hold on. There’s something we need to discuss with you.”

I nodded. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Take off the kutte and lay it at the end of the table.” Bishop pointed to the far end.

I dropped my head. I knew better than to argue so I did what he told me to. I laid it out, Prospect patch up.

“You’ve done a lot for this club. You’ve done a lot for my daughter. With what’s about to go down, I need to know I have people to have our backs, my back. You’ve shown that the last few months.”

He waved his hand and all of a sudden new patches were laid in front of me on my kutte. I looked at him with a shocked expression.

“Bish, seriously?”

“You’ve earned it, kid. You’ve shown all of us how bad you want this. That’ll you’ll stick your neck out for any one of us. Welcome to the club.” Hank said, slapping my shoulder.

One by one each guy gave me a hug and welcomed me in. Last was Bishop. He hugged me to him and held me there.

“When this shit goes down, I want you by my side. You’re the only other person who loves my (Y/N) as much as me and would kill for her. I want you to protect her at all cost. I brought you in early, don’t make me regret it.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.”

Later that night, I sat up and put my new patches on my kutte. When I was done, I pulled out (Y/N)’s picture and letter she left me and read it again and again. I missed her. I wanted her home. I vowed then I’d make sure she made it home and wouldn’t leave my side again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ravennaortiz

@spnaquakindgdom

@meera10

#angel reyes #mayans imagine #angel reyes x reader #mayans x reader #mayans mc #mayans fanfic #mayans fx

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pascalispretty · 2 years ago

Text

The Poetry of the Body: Two

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3070

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, fainting, references to sex/implied sex, implied age gap, hurt/comfort vibes, AU where Emily doesn't exist.

Summary: You and Miguel discuss the possibility of expanding your family, and negotiate the details.

A/N: thanks to my beloved @misscharlielulu for all her love and support in getting this finished, and @bullet-prooflove for her Nestor advice. Title of the fic is from ’La llama doble. Amor y erotismo’ by Octavio Paz. Title of the chapter comes from 'Pedro Paramo' by Juan Rulfo, full quote on ao3. Written to fulfil the 'don't worry, I'll take good care of you' square for @storiesofsvu2-0 / @storiesofsvu's bingo! (ao3)

Two: The Pure Murmuring of Life (ao3)

It’s one of those days where nothing seems to go right. Miguel rose early in order to attend to some business south of the border, leaving you to wake up alone. Your whole body aches – another thing you blame Miguel for. Having sex on the kitchen floor certainly seemed like a thrilling idea last night, but you were paying the price for it today.

The day only gets worse once you shower and dress, and make your way downstairs. Any notion you have about taking Cristóbal out for breakfast abruptly shatters the moment you hear him screaming, a harried-looking Maria attempting to reason with him in Spanish. Still in his pyjamas, your son’s small body is wracked with sobs at the injustice of not being allowed to climb into the dryer and go for a spin.

It takes what feels like hours to soothe him, and it’s closer to lunchtime by the time he’s finally calm enough for Maria to take him upstairs and dress him. You stay downstairs, sitting on the couch to talk to Nestor. Starving, sore, and head pounding, you’re relieved to have a moment of calm.

“I don’t want to stay out for long; I just need to get out of the house. Is there enough security still here?” You have no concept of how many men have gone south with Miguel, but the fact that he left Nestor here tells you he’s not expecting any trouble. Nestor stands by the arm of the couch and nods.

“More than enough to keep a detail at the house while we’re gone. I’ll ask Paco to bring the car around.” He takes his phone out and begins tapping out a message, and even the sound of his phone keyboard clicking makes you rub your temples. Maybe you should take some ibuprofen before you head out. You’re so hungry you feel sick; a granola bar wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

Before you can do anything, you hear footsteps on the stairs again. Cristóbal is all smiles when he comes back downstairs, finally dressed and ready to go. He beams when he notices you on the couch and twists in Maria’s arms to reach out for you.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you ready?” You ask him, standing up quickly.

It’s a mistake.

Your vision blurs. The room swims in front of you, and you’re only vaguely aware of your knees buckling before everything goes dark.

Sounds come back to you first. Cristóbal is crying again, but he sounds oddly muffled. You’re too disoriented even to try opening your eyes. Instead, you focus on your breathing.

You’re on the floor, that becomes apparent quickly. The wood is pleasantly cool against your forehead. You don’t know how you ended up down here, but you try not to think too hard about it. After a long pause, you gingerly open your eyes.

It takes a moment for you to be able to focus on anything. The first thing you do see clearly is Nestor, kneeling beside your head. He has your wrist in his hand, you realise, his fingers resting over your pulse point. He must have caught you before you fell, lowered you onto the floor. An intense feeling of déjà vu sweeps over you; you’ve been in this exact position before.

The fainting was the first real sign that something was wrong last time.

You can vividly remember waking up on the kitchen floor to Miguel yelling at someone to bring the car around. Breakfast had been abruptly abandoned, the bacon smouldering alarmingly on the stove. You had only found out you were pregnant a week prior and the fainting spell had been written off as the result of your body simply adjusting to the new life growing inside it.

Then the vomiting started. You lost weight at a rate that alarmed your doctors, who kept you in for a flurry of tests. Hyperemesis gravidarum had been the official diagnosis; morning sickness so severe that you could barely keep water down on some days. Between the dizziness and the nausea, you had hardly left the house until after your son was born.

As soon as you realise that you fainted, you know that you’re pregnant again.

You stopped taking your birth control months ago, but your periods had stayed irregular; you have no idea how late you actually are. The reality of it hits you all at once, but you do your best to choke it back. Cristóbal is sobbing in Maria’s arms, desperately wailing for you, and you raise your head slightly. You need to take care of him first.

“It’s okay, baby, Mama’s okay. Come here,” you tell him. Nestor lets go of your wrist as you shift on the floor, trying to make yourself marginally more comfortable on the wood. Maria brings Cristóbal closer, eventually setting him down so he can toddle over to you.

“Do you want me to help you up onto the couch?” Nestor asks quietly, before your son can reach you. Cristóbal crawls into your arms, his cheeks damp as he presses his face against your collarbone.

“No, thank you. I just need to stay here for a minute.” You can’t fall again if you’re already on the floor. Nestor nods, wordlessly grabbing a cushion for you to rest your head on as he stands back up to his full height. In your arms, Cristóbal has settled slightly, though his voice is still thick with tears.

“Mama fell,” he says plaintively, and your heart swells.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. Did I scare you? I’m okay, Mama’s okay,” you whisper against his warm forehead, breathing in the smell of his hair. You rest your head on the cushion and look up to see Nestor and Maria sharing a meaningful glance. Cristóbal’s little fists grab handfuls of your hair, but you barely feel the pressure on your scalp. You know what that look is about.

“Don’t tell Miguel.” It comes out harsher than you mean it to. Nestor and Maria exchange another look, before Nestor sighs.

“Mikey’ll want to know.”

“And he will. I’ll tell him myself when he comes home tonight.” You hold Cristóbal a little tighter, rubbing his back. The last thing you want to do right now is argue with Nestor, but you can’t back down. “Please, Nestor. I’ll tell him tonight.”

He looks unconvinced; it’s hard to convey how serious you’re being while you’re lying on the floor.

“Maria, would you mind making Cristóbal something for lunch? I don’t think we’ll be able to go out today after all.” To your relief, she nods and walks towards the kitchen. One less person to deal with right now. The mention of food makes Cristóbal squirm in your arms so you let him go, watching him toddle off to the kitchen to ‘help’ Maria. Gingerly, you start to try to shift into a sitting position. Nestor notices, crouching back down automatically in case you faint again.

You manage to sit yourself up, your back resting against the couch as you take several deep breaths. All of this would be so much easier if Miguel was home. He grew up with housekeepers and nannies and security guards; he’s infinitely more at ease issuing them with orders than you are. Even Nestor, occupying that liminal space between employee and childhood best friend, does what Miguel tells him to do.

Orders don’t come naturally to you. Especially not now, when your head is a whirlwind of different emotions and needs, all pulling your attention in separate directions. Miguel would take care of everything if he were here, having conversations that need to be had and making appointments that need to be made. But you have no idea where he is or when he’ll be home, so it’s up to you.

“Nestor,” you start, swallowing thickly. “I need you and Maria not to say anything to Miguel yet.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you know I have to tell Mikey.” Him calling you ma’am isn’t a good sign. Miguel had half-stepped into the role of older brother for him since he was a teenager; you aren’t going to overcome more than twenty years of loyalty. He’ll never listen to you over Miguel.

“If you tell Miguel I fainted, he will want to know why. And he’ll know why, the same way that I’m sure you do. Miguel will figure it out the same way you did.” You know in your gut that Nestor knows. The same intense déjà vu that struck you must have hit him too; an echo of the six long months where he hardly left your side when Miguel wasn’t around. It had been a sign of how concerned Miguel really was about you, leaving his most trusted lieutenant to watch over you and the life inside you.

“...Mikey doesn’t know?” Nestor asks eventually, taking a seat on the coffee table - still close enough to catch you if you faint again. You’ll mention it to Miguel later, how seamlessly Nestor has fallen back into old protocols.

“No. I don’t even know yet, not for sure. But I don’t want him to find out like this, Nestor; hundreds of miles away, because something bad happened. Let me tell him myself tonight, so he can celebrate.” You watch him think it over, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Eventually, he nods, and you sigh in relief.

The two of you negotiate a little more - he’ll talk to Maria, he’ll do his best to make sure Miguel comes home at a reasonable hour tonight on a security pretext, you absolutely promise that you’ll tell your husband that the fainting has started again - and he helps you up onto the couch before he leaves.

You settle back onto the couch, closing your eyes as you get comfortable. From experience, you know you’ll need to stay put for an hour or so. The sound of Cristóbal’s uneven footsteps makes you open your eyes again as he runs up to the couch, his stuffed rabbit in his hand.

“It’s ‘kay, Mama. Make feel better.” He thrusts the stuffed rabbit at you, and you tuck it into the crook of your arm. Another powerful wave of emotion washes over you, and you will yourself not to cry; you don’t want your son to think his sweet gesture has upset you.

“Oh baby, thank you.” You whisper, stroking Cristóbal’s curls gently. “You know, Daddy had a brother too. That’s who you’re named after.” Your son brightens at the mention of his father, babbling the word ‘daddy’ happily back to you, looking around for Miguel. “No, Daddy’s not home yet, sweetheart. But we’ll have a nice surprise for him when he comes back, won’t we?”

****

You watch anxiously from the kitchen window as the cars are let through the gate, the convoy your husband took south arriving home seemingly without incident. Certainly, there’s no sign that Miguel came home in a panic, word having reached him of what happened today.

Since your fainting this afternoon, you’ve been relatively busy. Maria had kept Cristóbal occupied while you rested on the couch, planning your evening, and Nestor had gone out for the items you’d requested. You’d briefly wondered why he’d bothered to go himself for steak and sparkling grape juice, until he returned from town with two boxes of pregnancy tests stashed among the groceries.

You really needed to tell Miguel to give him a raise.

By the time Miguel walks through the door, everything is ready. You smooth your hands down your dress, stepping out of the kitchen to greet him.

“Hi baby,” he starts, his eyes widening slightly once he gets a good look at you. “Did we have dinner plans?” You’re overdressed for dinner at home, a green dress that clings in all the right places. He kisses you chastely in greeting, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back.

“No, I made us dinner. I thought you might need it, after your day.” You lead him by the hand to the table on the veranda outside. The fire and torches are lit, casting everything in a soft golden light, and music is playing softly from the speakers.

“Valentine’s Day was last month. Or is this you angling for a repeat of last night?” He asks teasingly, the fingers of his free hand finding the bruise he’d left on your wrist when he pinned you to the floor.

“Maybe.” He humours you, especially when he realises you’ve made him filet mignon, so rare that the knife glides through the meat with almost no resistance. That, and the pinot noir you’d opened for him, provide an excellent distraction. He doesn’t question why you’re drinking a different wine - which isn’t wine at all, but sparkling grape juice you’d decanted into an empty bottle - or eating a blander meal than his own.

The conversation throughout dinner is light; he doesn’t offer any details about what he was doing south of the border, and you don’t ask. You want the other world to be as far away from you as possible tonight. The mains finished, you tell him to stay put while you clear the table and fetch dessert.

You uncork the champagne in the kitchen and sink the bottle into the waiting bucket of ice. For a moment you wish you could take a sip, just to steady your nerves. From the cabinet, you fetch a single champagne flute, one of the Villeroy & Boch set that had been a wedding gift. You take the stem between two fingers and turn it so the base rests in your palm, allowing you to carry it at the same time as the stainless-steel bucket.

“I know that champagne is more of an apéritif than a digestif, but it seemed more appropriate for the topic.” You tell Miguel once you’re back in earshot. He turns to look at you, a faint smile playing around his lips. The firelight suits him; between the shadows and the golden wash of light, he looks like an oil painting—a study of some long-ago king, all easy authority and charm.

“What’s the topic?” He asks, leaning back in his chair so he can watch you.

“Celebrations,” you tell him, pouring the champagne for him. “It’ll be yours and Cristóbal’s birthdays next month.” It had felt like it meant something when Cristóbal was born just days before Miguel’s own birthday in April - the one silver lining to having to deliver him early. Instead of returning to your own chair, you sit in Miguel’s lap. His free hand comes up to your waist instinctively, holding you close while he reaches for the glass.

“Three already,” Miguel says, taking a sip of his champagne. You drape your arm over Miguel’s broad shoulders, taking a moment just to savour the closeness.

“I know.” Your fingers find their way into Miguel’s hair, combing through the thick black curls. He relaxes under you, a long sigh escaping him. He takes another sip of champagne and frowns.

“You’re not having one?” Miguel turns his head to look at you. “Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?” His tone is teasing, and he playfully pinches your side. His fingers land over a ticklish spot, and you giggle in spite of yourself.

“No. I can’t have one.” You bite your lip, waiting for him to connect the dots. “That’s the other thing we need to celebrate.” Miguel’s lovely dark eyes search your face, his expression softening.

“Really?” He asks, and you nod.

“I took the test today. I still need to go to the doctor’s to confirm but-” Whatever else you might say is cut off by the kiss Miguel gives you. He pulls you even closer to him, his champagne glass abandoned on the table so he can wrap his arms fully around you.

“Te quiero mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs between kisses. For the first time all day, you can relax and just let your emotions wash over you. You’re having another baby; it’s a thrilling and frightening prospect all at once.

“I love you too.” You rest your cheek against his shoulder as he pulls away slightly to take another sip of his champagne. You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in contented silence. The fire has dipped low, and the breeze rolling in off the hills makes you shiver in your thin dress. Miguel is immediately on alert, setting his empty glass down and looking at you with concern.

“Do you want to go inside?” Miguel asks, rubbing your arm. The pressure is just slightly too much on your sore skin, and you wince. “Baby?” He tugs the short sleeve of your dress up, exposing the already-forming bruises you had acquired earlier.

“Oh. That was my first clue I was pregnant again; I fainted this afternoon. Nestor caught me.” You try to keep the worry out of your voice, stroking your fingers down his forearm. Miguel fixes you with a searching look, those beautiful dark eyes carefully searching your face.

“How are you feeling now?” He asks. You know that tone; it’s one that brooks no argument, allows for no white lies.

“Physically? Fine. A little tender, maybe.” You begin, but Miguel’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Emotionally? I don’t know. Happy, yes. Scared.” Your voice breaks a little on the last sentence. Miguel smooths a hand over your hair, adjusting you on his lap.

“We know what to expect this time. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You turn your head into his shoulder, trying not to ruin the celebratory mood. For a long moment, you sit there like that, Miguel’s hand running soothingly down your back. Even pressed against him like this, you shiver again.

“Let's get you inside.” Miguel lets you go, and you slide reluctantly off his lap.

“What about the champagne?”

“I’ll take care of the champagne. You take care of you. You said you were feeling fine physically?” He asks, draining what’s left of his glass. You nod, and he grins, stepping closer to you. There’s barely an inch of space between your bodies, and he catches your chin between his finger and thumb, tilting your face up to look at him.

“Go and get yourself into bed. And then I’ll see what I can do to take care of you.”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @burningtacozombie @ben-c-group-therapy @90sisthenew80s @beccabarba

#miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #k2023bdaybingo

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mrsamaroevans · 4 years ago

Text

TIGHTROPE PT. 2 | MIGUEL GALINDO

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Female Reader. This follows from: Tightrope.

Request: Yes!

Words: 4,052.

Warnings: English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.

A/N: Guys, without joking, I’ve been writing this since the first part was posted and that was nearly a year ago lol. But it’s finally here and I hope you like it! *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“Never sure, never know how far we could fall”

The past eight months, Miguel never felt so out of place like he was feeling by day four you were out of the house. He’s been feeling so bad not only emotionally because you were not with him, but physically ‘cause he started to catch a cold. His meetings with Potter were frustrating him even more and he was more tired than ever to have meetings with Los Olvidados or the MC.

He took a look at the last months of his life and he knew he had screwed everything up. Miguel hated himself for that; not Potter, not Los Olvidados or the MC. Him. He was the only one to blame for the situation his marriage was in.

That night when Cristobal was sick, he told you how sorry he was and promised you he would make an effort to be more at home. Two months ago, he had the chance to change the way your marriage was going and he didn’t do anything.

You’ve been together since you were sixteen. He knew about the loveless marriage your parents were living in because that was the reason why he had to work so hard for you to accept the first date. Miguel remembers how much you tried to avoid your feelings for him, how careful you were with every step of your relationship. He promised you he wasn’t going to hurt you and he didn’t. When he had to go to Cornell? You tried to break up with him, arguing about all the time he would be away with those pretty New Yorkers but he assured you, you were the only one who he could want to be with. Miguel did everything he had in his hand to make your long-distance relationship work, and instead of feeling away from him, you felt like nothing was different.

He did everything right back then, so right that when he proposed in the winter holidays of his fourth year in Cornell, you accepted without hesitation.

Why couldn’t he be like the twenty-two-year-old Miguel Galindo?

Miguel saw your face appearing on the computer’s screen and suddenly, he started to feel better. He texted you asking you to do a video call and felt relief when you accepted.

At least you didn’t want to avoid him the two weeks you were going to be away.

“Hey! How are you?” He asked and you smiled. Miguel loved seeing how passionate you were about your job, so he smiled for the simple fact of seeing you smiling.

“Fine,” you said “And you? You sound different,” you asked, a bit concerned.

“I’m catching a cold, but I’m fine,” Miguel said nonchalantly.

“There’s medicine in the cabinet of our bathroom,” you told him “You should take some before you feel worse”

“I’m better now that I’m talking to you,” Miguel said and you chuckled immediately “What?”

“You did it too soon,” you said and added when he frowned: “Trying to make me fall in your arms again”

Miguel laughed. He wasn’t trying that, he was just being honest, but now that you touched the subject…

“I know you said we’d talk about it once you come back, but…”

“And we’ll do it” you interrupted him and Miguel understood you didn’t want to talk about it at that moment “I had an interview earlier, that’s why I’m all dressed up,” you said, changing the subject.

“I think you look gorgeous,” he said, and when he saw the look you gave him, he laughed “And how did that interview go?”

Miguel and you talked about a bunch of stuff. You told him about the process of publication of your book and he listened to every single word that came out of your mouth. He didn’t realize how much he missed hearing you talk until now, and when you least expected it, you and your husband talked for three hours straight, something that hadn’t happened in so long.

“You know? This takes me back to those four years you were at Cornell” You said and Miguel nodded.

“Yeah… our old computers didn’t have this quality but, yeah, they helped us,” Miguel said and when he was about to say something else, he saw you turn your attention somewhere else.

“Oh, hi baby” he heard you say and Miguel knew immediately who was the person that walked in the room where you were “Just be careful, Lucy, please”

“I’ll come back as soon as it ends, Mrs. Galindo,” a feminine voice said and then he saw Cristobal in your arms.

“It’s okay, have fun” You smiled, and then the door got closed “You wanna see daddy? Look who’s there!” You pointed to the screen and Cristobal looked at it. A smile appeared when he saw his father and Miguel smiled as well.

“I miss you two so much,” Miguel said, feeling tears in his eyes at seeing you both smiling so wide, but, a thought he didn’t like at all came to his head.

You seemed happier now than in the past eight months and it broke his heart because he felt so alone. Every night he expects to walk in your bedroom and see you sleeping, kiss your head, —kisses you never felt— and lay at your side. But all that he finds is an empty and cold bed.

Miguel didn’t want a future without you and he knew he had to work really hard to keep you in his life.

“What are you thinking, Mickey?”

Miguel looked at his friend, he didn’t even realize he was that quiet and thoughtful. Nestor sat down on the stool next to his and looked at him.

“You miss her so much” Nestor teased once Miguel didn’t say anything.

“I do” Miguel nodded, he had a glass of scotch in his hand and when he took a sip, he realized it was already warm, so he left it aside “I fucked it up, hermano. We never had this distance before, not even when I was at Cornell… and it’s all my fault”

“Well, it’s a progress that you already accepted it,” he said and Miguel scoffed.

“At what damn moment” Miguel sighed and leaned his forearms in the bar “I feel like I’m losing her”

“She thinks the same about you” Nestor confessed, making Miguel look at him.

He should have expected it. You and Nestor started to spend a lot of time together since he was your driver. You met Nestor at the same moment you met Miguel, you were friends, it was obvious you would talk to him.

“You can’t lose her, Miguel,” Nestor told him “(Y/n) and Cristobal are the best things that have happened to you, not the cartel, not the protection you’re having from Los Olvidados… your family”

Nestor was right and Miguel knew it. Not anyone would stand his life and everything that comes with it, but you? You were there since the beginning, you never judged any of his decisions. He was so lucky to have you in his life, ‘cause people could talk shit about him, the cartel could be crumbling down, but at the end of the day, when he walked through the door of your home, you were there, welcoming him with a smile and a kiss. You were all that he needed.

“I know,” Miguel said, immediately “I have always known that, I just… I don’t know what happened, I’m trying to remember but… I can’t. I thought we were fine, I thought I was just working like before and then my son got sick and if I hadn't woken up in the middle of the night, I wouldn't have even noticed” he sighed again, summed in frustration “I didn’t want to be the absent father and husband my father was and here I am. My wife is miles away from me and she looks happier”

“Don’t you think is because you’ve been talking every day?” Nestor asked, raising an eyebrow at him “She loves you, Miguel. Never doubt about it… I’m going to the airport tomorrow for her, you wanna come?”

Miguel nodded. He would do all that it takes to bring his family back.

You had your son in your arms as the babysitter helped you with your suitcase. You missed so much your home that you were so happy that your days in New York came to an end, and for the giant smile Cristobal had, you knew he was also happy, even if he didn’t understand what was going on.

“Let’s find uncle Nestor, you’re gonna help me?” You asked, looking at your son’s face. He smiled at you and wrapped his arms around your neck.

“Over there, Mrs. Galindo” Lucy said, pointing away and when you turned around, you froze for a moment.

Miguel was there with Nestor, and when he spotted you, he started to make his way through the crowd to reach you. You didn’t know what to do for a moment, he surely surprised you ‘cause Nestor told you he had a meeting with Los Olvidados that day. You definitely didn’t expect him to be there.

“Look, baby… it’s daddy” you told Cristobal and he looked at where you were pointing “It’s daddy, baby…”

As soon as Miguel reached you, Cristobal stretched out his arms to his father, and being as happy as never in the last eight months, Miguel took him out of your arms.

You took the chance to turn to the babysitter “Lucy, thank you so much for helping me… we drive you home?” You asked, but she shook her head no.

“My brother is picking me up,” She said.

“Are you sure?” You asked again but she only nodded, “Thank you so much again… Cristobal, say bye to Lucy,” you said, grabbing your suitcase and caressing Cristobal’s back.

The babysitter smiled when Cristobal waved his tiny hand at her, and then she started to walk to look for her brother.

As soon as she walked away, Miguel used his free hand to cup your cheek and kissed you before you could object. You pulled back, frowning, and with a small smile on your face “Someone is too affectionate today”

“I missed you,” Miguel said “And I’m not talking only about these past two weeks…”

“It’s not the place, Miguel,” You told him, but stood on your toes to kiss his lips again “Let’s go home…”

Miguel held your hand the whole way home, he asked you about the flight and about your last two days in New York that you couldn’t talk.

“You’re too affective today” You whispered, looking at him and grinning when he caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. He smiled and turned to you “How’s your mom?” You asked to change the subject.

“Happy ‘cause you’re coming back,” he said “She also missed you two… I think Cristobal helps her with her treatment”

You looked back at Cristobal, who was busy playing with a stuffed bear in his car seat “I also noticed that… what did she say about the psychologist?”

Miguel sighed and you half-smiled, you didn’t need more to know what your mother-in-law thought about that idea “You know her, she doesn’t want to go to a loquero”

“Well, we knew she’d say that” Miguel nodded at your words “Maybe Dr. Kamen can convince her… I’ll talk to her, don’t worry”

Again, Miguel realized he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know what he had done to have you in his life, you were too good to be true ‘cause even after all that distance, you were there for him, having his back like you had done since you were sixteen.

So he kissed your hand and you smiled.

When Nestor parked outside your house, Miguel leaned to the backseat to take Cristobal as you jumped off from the SUV and smiled when you saw Dita in the front door.

“You’re finally here, querida,” She said, walking to you and hugging you “How was your trip?”

“It was great,” You said, and as soon as Miguel appeared with your son in his arms, Dita’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, mijo, I missed you so much” Dita smiled and Miguel let her take Cristobal in her arms “You must be hungry,” Dita told you and you couldn’t hide the fact she was right “Let’s go inside, lunch is ready”

That night, even though Miguel wanted to be with you when you bathed Cristobal, he received a call and couldn’t make it. You weren’t mad. You understood that besides his family, he also had other important things to take care of, also, you saw in his eyes that he wanted to fix things up. He didn’t want to lose you and you also didn’t want to lose him.

“Sorry for that,” he said as soon as he crossed the door of your bedroom. Cristobal was in his bed already and you knew he wouldn’t wake up until the morning arrives “I went to see Cristobal… he looks tired”

You smiled.

“Yeah… he was,” you said, taking your earrings off and leaving them on your bedside table. You were tired as well, you would put them to your jeweler tomorrow.

“You also are... We can talk tomorrow”

“No. I promised we would when we had time alone” You said, turning to him and patting the bed for him to sit at your side “What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m sorry” It was the first thing he said “I know I haven’t kept all the promises I made the day we got married. You’re the most amazing wife and mother out there and I haven’t appreciated you the way I should” he shook his head and leaned his head back looking at the ceiling “I used to say that I work a lot, but now I know that’s not an excuse. ‘Cause, you work a lot too and you haven’t neglected our son, our house, or our marriage… I can see it now”

Our marriage.

Those two words made you shiver. You have confronted him about Adelita’s baby and you were afraid that the words he used just confirmed your biggest fear. But he could see that in your eyes, ‘cause he started to shake his head.

“I swear to God, amor, that between Adelita and I never happened anything,” he said, grabbing your hands. There were tears in his eyes, afraid of you not believing him “I can see why would you think that and, unfortunately, I have nothing else than my word for you to believe me” you looked him in the eyes, you wanted to have proofs but how could you have them? You had to trust him “You’re the only woman I have ever love and that’s how it’s gonna be forever. You can trust me”

“I do,” You said after a few seconds “If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened”

“Nothing” Miguel insisted, sitting closer as one of his arms landed on your shoulders and kissed your head.

“Thank you for not ignoring my feelings,” you said with your eyes closed. You missed having him so close, the smell of his cologne taking you to all the happy memories at his side.

“I’m sorry it took me too long to finally see it” he got a few inches apart from you, so you opened your eyes and looked up at him. You couldn’t deny it, you were a bit disappointed for that action “And… I know this is not romantic but…” you leaned back to see him better. Miguel was nervous and the only times he was like that were, when he asked you for the first date, when he proposed to you and when your son was born “We’ve been married for ten years now, and if you want… I want to renew our vows”

You were surprised.

You didn’t know anyone who wanted to renew their votes. The only thing that you heard of marriages when you were young, was that they were so tired of being in them.

“Miguel…” you barely whispered when he got on one knee in front of you. His hand grabbed a small black velvet box from his suit coat and opened it.

“Would you like to marry me again?” Miguel grabbed one of your hands as you were still trying to find your voice “I can’t promise you I won’t make mistakes again because I’m not perfect, but I promise to always put you and my family first”

You smiled. Your eyes getting watery as you nodded.

Miguel sighed in relief and took your engagement ring off your finger to place the new one “I love you” he told you as he stood and the next thing he did was cupping your cheeks to kiss you.

You accepted his lips, leaned back, and held from his dress shirt where you looked for its buttons as the kiss went from sweet to passionate. It had been so long since the last time he touched you like he was doing it at that moment, and your heart melted when you realized that his touch felt the same as always.

But, of course, the moment was interrupted by Miguel’s phone.

“Are you kidding me?” He said, irritated at whoever he was talking to “Potter wants to talk now? Does he know what time is it?”

You sat in the bed and looked at him as he walked around the room. You bite your lower lip as you recognized Alvarez’s voice coming out of the device and from what you could hear, you knew Miguel had to leave.

“No… tell him I won’t go anywhere”

You walked towards him and stood in front of him so he could see you. Just by looking at your face, he shook his head, but stopped when you placed one of your hands on his chest “Go. They need you” you whispered.

Miguel covered the microphone and shook his head again “I got it, amor, they won’t interrupt us”

“I’ll be here when you come back,” you told him with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his middle and left a soft kiss on his chest. He didn’t understand how he could deserve someone like you “Go. It’s okay”

He sighed and gave in “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Miguel said kissing you, before walking out of the room as he buttoned his shirt.

Your eyes stayed at the door for a couple of seconds and when you looked down at your left hand, you smiled at seeing the new ring on your finger. If you wanted a proof, that could be. The butterflies in your stomach made you giggle while you made your way to the bathroom to take a shower.

Half an hour later, you were doing your skincare routine. You had a small smile while remembering the past weeks and how you were feeling things were changing just stepping into Californian ground. It all started to feel like before and you were not even afraid that things could change for worse. What happened today was proof enough for you to be sure that you could overcome anything.

You turned to your left when you heard the bedroom door being closed. After placing all the products where they belonged, you walked back to the bedroom just in time when Miguel was about to call your name.

“What happened? Potter just wanted to say hi?” You asked and Miguel chuckled at your joke as he was taking his coat off.

“I was in the car and I realized that I didn’t care what he wanted, so I asked Alvarez to come back,” Miguel said, unbuttoning his shirt and looking directly at you “I want to spend this night with you and nor Potter nor anyone is gonna interrupt”

“Amor… I was being honest when I told you it was okay” You told him smiling once he reached you.

“I’ll deal with him tomorrow” Miguel smirked and pulled off the strip from your robe “I love you”

Your hands cupped his cheeks “I love you too”

| ONE YEAR LATER |

The sky was bright blue. There were no clouds and the weather was perfect. Miguel and Cristobal were in the pool while you watched them from the bed in the tent Miguel asked to be built. They were having fun until the little one wanted some cookies from the kitchen and as demanding as his father, he wanted to go for them.

“We have fruit here,” You told your son, pointing at the bowls on the table as Miguel helped him to take his blue lifejacket off. Cristobal pouted and shook his head no.

“I want cookies” he insisted.

“Fine, just two,” you said and your son nodded. he grabbed his father’s hand and dragged him all the way to the kitchen.

You smiled watching them going inside the house. Their curls and swimsuits dripping water as they walked. There was no doubt that Cristobal was looking more and more like his father as the days go on.

The giggles of your son became louder as they approached the tent. You looked up from your phone and saw your son with two cookies in both of his hands. You turned to Miguel, questioning him with your gaze.

The expression on his face was saying “I couldn’t do anything”

“I said just two cookies, hun,” you told your husband once Cristobal sat near you.

“I told him so,” Miguel said quickly “Tell your mother what you told me”

Cristobal smiled when you ran your fingers through his hair “Two for me and two for little brother” he looked at you and then turned to the bassinet at your side. You couldn’t stop your laugh and neither did Miguel.

“But little brother can’t eat cookies yet,” you told him.

“Can I eat them for him?” Cristobal asked looking up at you with a big smile, trying to look as innocent as he could.

You looked at Miguel who didn’t even try to hide his smirk. Like father, like son.

“Fine,” you told him “but you’ll have to wait an hour before you go to the pool again”

Cristobal nodded too eagerly probably not knowing what an hour meant, and when Miguel was about to say something, your youngest son started to whine “Hey, little man. What’s wrong?” he asked taking the baby in his arms and trying to coo him, “I know, I know. You don’t want to see me now; you want your mami”

You smiled when Miguel kissed his forehead to place it in your arms so he could eat.

Miguel laid on the bed with Cristobal, they were close to you but not enough so they wouldn’t get you or the baby wet. He was having a conversation with his son, at least, the kind of conversation a three-year-old kid could maintain, which soon started to fade away and when you looked at them, you saw your oldest son sleeping on Miguel’s chest.

“He gave up,” Miguel said with a smile when he noticed you were watching them. One of his hands was on Cristobal’s back and the other in his hair “You want to try for a girl?”

You chuckled while patting your newborn child on the back “It’s been only six days since this little one came out of me… give me two years to forget the pain and we can talk about it”

“We have a deal here” He smiled at you and then kissed his son’s head “I think he likes being the big brother”

“Yeah, he gets extra cookies” you both chuckled at that “Today was wonderful”

“Every day at your side is wonderful”

“Ugh, cheesy” you laughed and Miguel looked at you pretending to be offended.

“I’m not taking it back, because it’s true” Miguel shrugged as best as the kid in his chest let him “I love you, you know it”

“Hun… I love you too”

Miguel stood there, lying in bed and looking at you and your sons. He was thankful that you had given him another chance, ‘cause he realized by looking at you three, that he couldn’t see his life without you.

“Hand in my hand and you promised to never let go”

Tags: @luckyharley1903

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo x oc #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x you #miguel galindo x female reader #Mayans MC #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fandom

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losolvidad0s · 4 years ago

Text

*indicates smut (18+)

Obispo “Bishop” Losa:

Songbird*

It’s Not Over

Miguel Galindo:

Despiadado

Angel Reyes:

Culebra

Dangerous Liaisons Masterlist

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

Made For More

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from my love @garbinge: Hiii ❤️ I have a request for Nestor with these two prompts...🥺 soft Nestor is legit my fav and I’m nervous we won’t get that in season 3 so I have to get my fix LOL. “Can you pick me up from the bar? Too drunk to drive.” and... “Are you afraid to die?”

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death/dying, angst, everyone getting in their soft & sad feelings

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I wrote this a couple days ago but today has been a day so I’m using soft & angsty Nestor to cope. Quick little one-shot for the man with the beautiful braids. Did I get really in my feelings within minutes of receiving this request? Perhaps. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

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Nestor shut the door behind him and locked it, letting out a sigh as he let himself enjoy the fact that he had survived another extremely long day. He strode into the living room, shrugging off his holsters as he did. He tossed them over to the back of his chair before sitting down on the couch to take his shoes off.

Just as he bent to untie his shoe, he felt his phone go off in his pocket. He sighed and shook his head as he shifted to take it out. He glanced down at the screen, his annoyance fading away slightly when he saw it was your name lighting up the screen, not Miguel’s.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Nestor,” your voice was loud, and a little too cheerful for the hour that it was, “Are you busy?”

He chuckled, “Depends what you’re about to ask me to do.”

“Can you pick me up from the bar? I’m too drunk to drive,” you laughed.

He sighed, pausing for a moment despite the fact that he knew he couldn’t say no to you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Have I ever told you that I love you?”

He laughed, “Every damn day. Stay safe till I get there, alright?”

“You’re perfect. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he shook his head with a smile as he hung up the phone.

With a deep sigh, he got back up off the couch and grabbed his keys. He glanced at his holster for a moment before shaking his head at himself and leaving without it. You were never in that much trouble.

He rolled up outside the bar and parked across the street. He looked around and when he didn’t see you waiting outside, he took a deep breath in preparation for going inside. He wanted to just call you to tell you that he was there, but that felt wrong.

When he stepped inside the bar, his eyes instantly began searching for you. He heard you before he saw you. He heard your laugh and located you at the far end of the bar. You were leaned onto the countertop, a cup of water dangling loosely from your fingertips as you joked with the bartender.

Nestor walked up behind you, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him and smiled, resting your hand on top of his.

“You came!”

“I did,” he gave your shoulder a light squeeze, “You ready to go?”

You hopped off your chair and tossed some cash onto the surface of the bar, more than enough to cover your drinks and a tip. The bartender flashed you a smile, and a thankful look to Nestor as the two of you walked away.

The ride passed quietly—the only noise came from the music on the radio. Nestor’s eyes stayed on the road, and yours stayed on him. You considered him to be one of your best friends, a person in your life that you didn’t have to hide anything from. And in another universe, the two of you might’ve ended up together—you thought you might be good for each other.

He parked in front of your apartment building and looked over at you. A smile spread across your face as he undid his seatbelt. He walked around to your side of the car and opened the door for you. You took the helping hand that he offered you with a smile.

He waited patiently with you outside your apartment door as you dug around for your keys. You unlocked the door and pushed it open with a smile, motioning for him to walk inside. You saw the hesitancy on his face and flashed him your best puppy-dog eyes. With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he followed you inside.

“I can’t stay long, Y/N.”

“Why not?”

He chuckled, “I have, you know, life to go to tomorrow.”

“You can’t call in?”

There was the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips as he shook his head, “Doesn’t work like that.”

“Well it should,” you plopped down on the couch and motioned for him to come and join you.

He sat down next to you and you instantly curled into his side. His arm draped around your shoulders, thumb lightly tracing back and forth over the outside of your arm.

You handed him the TV remote, and despite the fact that he insisted that he couldn’t stay long, he started scrolling through movies to watch.

“You can stay, you know,” you told him as you watched the movies, twirling the end of one of his braids.

“I know.”

“I miss you.”

He paused, “Yea?”

You nodded, “I know you’ve got all of your…whatever going on with Galindo. And I know that’s, like, your thing now. But I miss you.”

He reached his other arm so that his hand rested on your leg, “I miss you too.”

“Have you been okay?”

The question caught him off-guard, “Um. Yea. I’ve…I’ve been okay. Why?”

You shrugged, “Just wondering,” you traced over the cuts on his knuckles, “You’re looking a little beat up.”

“Just part of the job. I’m used to it—nothing new.”

You had never liked seeing Nestor injured. He was a grown man who could take care of himself, but you still worried. You never could quite understand how he was so okay with the constant danger. His loyalty to Galindo was always something that you could never quite wrap your head around.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

He could see you starting to slip into your feelings. You’d always been an emotional drunk, a fact that had slipped his mind when he started letting the conversation head in this direction. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, trying to figure out how to tread carefully and not upset you.

“You worry too much, Y/N,” he drummed his fingers on your leg, “I’m still here. Everything’s alright. I can handle a couple scrapes—it’s nothing lethal.”

“What happens when it is?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” he lightly kissed the top of your head, “But that’s not something you need to be worrying about.”

“Do you worry about it?” your eyes were glued to his braid as you traced your finger over the intricacies of it.

“Hm?”

“Are you afraid to die?”

He wasn’t ready for the existential conversation. He hadn’t prepped ahead of time. The weight of the concern in your voice made his chest ache, though. He didn’t respond right away, wanting to give you an honest answer—he owed you at least that much. You’d never tried to hide the fact that you worried and cared for him, and while he didn’t always have the right things in his emotional toolbox to reciprocate the way that you deserved, he carried your words with him everywhere that he went.

“Sometimes,” he finally answered with a slight nod.

You looked up at him, “Sometimes?”

He offered up a small smile when he saw the confusion in your eyes. Seeing that hurt less than the sadness that had been in them a few moments before. He lightly squeezed your leg, “Yea, sometimes. When I show up ready for whatever it is that we have to do…I’m not afraid of it. It’s just a possible reality—no point in worrying about what you can’t control.”

“But?” you could feel your heart crumpling inside your chest as he spoke, and you were practically begging for him to show you any sign of having self-preserving urges.

He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, “But on nights like this? When I get a call from my favorite bug after the longest day in the universe because someone doesn’t know when to close out their tab? I’m…fucking terrified,” his finger traced over your knuckles.

You let his words hang in the air for a few moments as you took it all in. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting him to say, but that wasn’t it. Each syllable wound its way into your brain and you felt tears sting at the edges of your eyes.

“Hey,” his voice snapped you out of your own thoughts, “I’m glad that I have you. I know I’m not good at showing it, but I am. It’s…nice. It’s good to have a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?”

“That I’m made for more than just catching bullets.”

You rested your head back against his chest as you tried to focus on the sensation of his hands on you. His touch was protective, but still gentle. You knew there was so much about his life that you didn’t get to know about, and you were glad it was that way because you didn’t think that you could handle it. But there was a softness to the Nestor that you knew, even if he wasn’t always good at tapping into that side of himself. He tried, for you.

“You can’t die on me, Nes,” you finally spoke up.

His arms wrapped tighter around you, “I know.”

“Promise me you won’t?”

He kissed your forehead, “It’s getting late, Y/N. You should be getting to bed.”

You reached up and lightly brushed your fingers along his cheek, “Stay with me?”

He nodded, “I can do that.”

He stood up, helping you up from the couch as well. He shut the television off and you followed him to your room, fingers lightly intertwined as though you might lose him in the short walk from your living room to your bedroom.

All you could hear as you laid with him was the steady thumping of his heartbeat. His arms were draped loosely around your waist as you curled into his chest, sliding your legs between his. He placed a quick, soft kiss in the middle of your forehead before letting out a quiet sigh. Within a few minutes you could hear him snoring, and despite the fact that your body was begging for sleep, you stayed awake. You knew that in a lot of ways, your time with Nestor was borrowed. There were a million things that could and probably would go wrong. But as the sound of his breathing cut through the silence of your apartment, none of that seemed to matter. You bought yourself one more quiet night of being close to him and that was enough.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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