#sometimes I feel like the mara is knocking on his door and i'm so scared for him 😭

[alchemiclee]

jing yuan seems so sad and distant and lonely, especially watching his closest friends fall apart again and again....he's in so much anguish. it makes me wonder how he's still holding it together. how is he not completely broken yet like all his old friends...he must be really strong.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

GET IN THE RING.

Angel Reyes x Reader

Anon asked: angel reyes x reader in which a fight (you two are like frenemies) leads to sex

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: NSFW, smut.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @starrynite7114 💘

Author comments: This is the first part of Get In the Car. I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to: @angels-reyes

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You break in laughter because of one of the bad jokes that Tranq usually does. You're sitting on the couch with your legs over the next table with a beer between your hands. Taking a break from car scrapping. Bishop and Taza are playing pool talking loudly about the last trip they did, cause they almost fucked up but, as always, they safely made it home. Some motorbikes ride the front yard, parking next to the others. And you don't give it any importance listening to the boys laughing, till you hear a hard crash. Your heartbeat stops for a while. Everyone inside the clubhouse is staring at you. Your blood starts to boil, jumping off of the sofa to run towards your car.

Angel is pale. So pale, trying to cover whatever that happened. EZ, Coco and Gilly don't know where to hide themselves. You notice the strange way his motorbike is parked.

“I swear I'm gonna fix it!” Angel is terrified, and you can see it on his face.

You two have never been best friends, more like co-workers who respect each other. But sometimes, you want to kill him. For example, right now, you definitely want to kill him. The rest of the crew is behind you, shaking their heads while Bishop rubs his temple. Your car is the most precious possession you have, being the last present that your father gave you before he died. You love the car as you could love your own child. So, a tear is running down your cheek when you push him away.

On the left side of the bumper is a dent without paint and the headlight is smashed. You kneel with your trembling hands trying not to touch the bodywork. Your Mustang is an old model, so fixing it is going to cost you a lot of money and time. Especially for the painting. You could destroy his bike as payback, but even if you know it is an accident, you need some kind of revenge.

“Get in the ring.” You say in a whisper, with your eyes fills of tears and a hoarse tone of voice in your throat.

“What?” He asks, chuckling.

And that only makes everything worse. Getting up, you tangle your fingers on his shirt.

“Get. In. The. Fucking. Ring”. You repeat. Slowly. So close to him that you could touch his lips with yours.

“He said he's gonna fix it, mami.” Coco intermediates, trying to calm the situation.

“I'm not gonna fight with ya.” Angel says, removing your grip on his shirt.

You smile softly, licking your inner lip, before hitting his nose with your right fist. The oldest Reyes falls to the floor, and even if Taza and Tranq try to catch you, you're faster than them. Practically jumping on top of him to continue hitting him. And Angel tries to defend himself, punching you on your abdomen, to make you fall by his side. There's blood on his face and you can't breathe well, coughing for a second, before the Mayans manage to get you up and separate you from the other.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Reyes, I swear!”

“It was a fucking accident, you’re fucking crazy! You broke my nose!”

“‘I’m gonna break you something more! Let me go! Let me go!” You yell at him, squeezing under Tranq's strong arms.

Two shots in the air have your attention, freezing your blood and moves. You turn to Bishop, with an arm raised up and his gun in his hand. He looks upset and you understand him. But they should think about how they would feel if someone crashed their bikes. Tranq finally lets you go, fixing your shirt when he does.

“Angel you're not gonna ride till her car is fixed.” Bishop declares.

“What?”

You chuckle in silence because, at least, it's something.

“And you...” The president points at you, while you cross your arms and lift your chin with some pride on the gesture. “You're gonna fix him up.”

“What? He has two hands, what the hell, Bishop? He can do it by himself!” You claim with a frown.

“Don't yell at me again, you hear me? Shut the fuck up and do it.” His voice is so calm that it scares you more than anything.

You swallow, cleaning your tears with the back of your hands, full of anger. With a simple nod, you walk towards the clubhouse through the open door. And you can hear the heavy steps of the oldest Reyes following you cautiously, in case that you try to punch him again. Crossing the hallway to the main bathroom and opening the medical kit, you grab some cotton, two stitches and a bottle of surgical alcohol.

“Sit.” You just say, pointing to the toilet.

“Hey, I'm truly sorry.” He replies as he follows your instructions.

“Shut up.” You try to breathe, long enough not to hit him again.

Kneeling again and making you some space between his legs, you wet the cotton in alcohol breaking it into two pieces, for every hole. Angel growls closing his eyes hard, and you could have been more careful but it's part of your revenge. The nose isn't broken but, even so, you stick one of the stitches on the bridge of it pulling the skin closer, hoping that it also helps with cutting the bleeding.

After it, with some more cotton you clean his face. He sighs for a moment, grabbing your wrist to grab your attention.

“Coco pushed me and my bike fell on your car. I know, I know what it means to you, and I'm truly sorry, (Y/N).” He says then with a soft tone.

You let go of his hand, shaking your head as if you wanted to downplay it, because it doesn't have much more solution. Getting up, you clean your hands with water and soap in the sink, drying them on a towel. But, when you're about to leave the bathroom, Angel closes the door on your face.

“Could you please talk to me? Say something. Whatever.” He demands, sounding... desperate?

“Like what? Like that I'm fucking tired of all your foolishness and your actions without thinking?”

“It. Was. An. Accident.” He defended.

“Then fix it, and stop pissing me off.” You try to open the door again, but he closes it. “You're still doing it.”

“'Forgive me?” He asks, starting to make you lose the little patience you have left.

“No.”

“Then, you're not going anywhere”. Angel rests his back against the door, locking it, cross-armed.

“Fine! You got it! Now, let me go. I have work to attend to.”

“A kiss.” He says pointing at his cheek while he leans towards you.

You snort rubbing your eyes with two fingers, shaking your head for a while.

“If you turn your face, I'm gonna rip off your balls.” You threaten him, before holding his chin to press your lips over his beard. “Now, let me go.”

“Another one.”

“Angel, I am not in the mood to play one of our ga...”

He interrupts by kissing you. At first, you can't move. You don't have any reaction. Only your mouths pressed against the other. And you want to run away when your cheeks start to redden, but he locks you between his body and the closed door.

One of his hands travels to a side of your neck, with his lips tasting yours slowly, and his free arm surrounding your waist. No, you can't run away from him, and you're not even sure if you want to do it. Your mouth and your desire betray you, falling into his claws. He puts the hand on your nape wrapping your throat, straining one leg between yours. His knee pushing you to the limit, rubbing your crotch, while you fight against yourself to not moan, drowning every one.

“I bet you're fucking wet.” He whispers against your lips.

“I'm more dry than the desert, Reyes.” You say back, pushing him away with both hands on his chest.

You're trying to recover your breath, resting your weight against the door. But you're not gonna open it.

“Okay... Plan ‘b’.” He nods chuckling, before lifting you up, hitting your back to the wood and his fingers nailed on your ass.

His lips are now attacking your neck, sucking, biting and licking your skin till you finally set free a heavy gasp with a hand on his head, pushing him closer. His waist is moving between your legs, looking for more friction to satisfy his hunger. One of Angel's hands travels to the aperture of your work jumpsuit, straining it inside the clothes. Sliding his middle finger in you, making you growl, he laughs against your lips.

“You fucking liar.” He mutters fingering you faster, with the clear intention to make you scream out his name. “Don't be so fucking proud, mi dulce... Ask me to fuck' ya.”

His orbs are burning with lust, as are yours. You swallow your saliva, with your mouth next to his, looking how much he's enjoying pounding you and adding a second finger.

“Shit, Angel.” You leaned your head back against the door.

“What'? You wanna cum, huh?” He asks playing with your mind, dragging his teeth over your collarbone.

Yes, you want to cum. You need it. His hand are fucking you so hard that you can't fight against your body and every reaction he provokes on it. Devouring his lips desperate, moving your hips above his fingers feeling more needy than ever, while his tongue finds yours pressing it.

“Cum for me, mami... C'mon.” Angel begs with his forehead resting against yours, shaky breath and eyes closed. He really wants it, and you too.

“Harder, papi... Do it harder.”. You ask him, taking it as a command.

His fingers moving deeper, pounding you as hard as you ask 'cause your wishes are an order to the oldest Reyes. Your legs trembling, his darkest gaze on yours and you biting your inner lip. Moaning louder, Angel has to cover your mouth with his free hand, feeling the orgasm running all over your body.

“Oh, god, Angel!” You drown against his palm.

He laughs in silence, sinking his face on your neck, satisfied with the result. You hate him. You hate him so much, and he's gonna pay for it. Three knocks on the door push you two out of your own atmosphere, claiming for your attention.

“This is not what I meant when I said ‘fix him’. Get back to work!” Bishop says between laughters, before walking away from the bathroom.

“I'm gonna fuck you inside your car, when I fix it.”

“You better do, Reyes.”

“Fix your car, or fuck you, mi dulce?”