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imagineredwood · 3 months

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Group HC - The Boys reactions to getting caught stealing your panties 👙

I know. I know. It’s terrible and gross and icky I KNOW 😭😭 but I saw HCs for another shows characters around this idea and I couldn’t get it out of my head and it triggered the memory that this is actually canon for Juice and…yeah. Here we are 🧍🏻‍♀️

He’s not sorry. Or embarrassed. He loves you, loves everything about you. He thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread. He worships you and the ground beneath your feet. So why wouldn’t he steal your panties? They’re yours, and they rest against his most favorite part of you all day 🤷🏻‍♀️ He won’t apologize, not even when your face heats up and you cover it with both hands. On the contrary, he probably makes a show of taking one out of the secret pile and sniffing it. He’s nasty, and he knows regardless of how you feel about it, you know he does it out of love and devotion. So he’s ok with it. And he’s not gonna stop.

He’s ashamed. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. Felt weird and invasive, but he couldn’t help it. He just loves you so much, and he gets lonely when you’re apart, and it smells like you. What else was he supposed to do? He would never cheat, would never even dream of it. But the stress of the club gets to him, especially the more complicated things get, he just needs comfort and relief, and when he saw them laying there in the hamper, he snagged it without thinking. Then he couldn’t stop, even when he knew he should. Even goes as far as offering to take apart the washer saying that maybe the machine is eating them 👀 He apologizes, cheeks tinted red, eyes downcast and hopes you don’t hold it against him. He’ll ask before he takes them next time, scouts honor.

Like Angel, he’s not embarrassed. He just shrugs, telling you that you’re his girl and your pussy is his, so why can’t he just take them? 🙄 He buys you new pairs every now and then anyway. So he wants to smell you randomly throughout the day, whats the harm in that? He just misses you. And likes to look at the pair and reminisce about times he’s taken them off of you. Is that a crime? He even reaches into his kutte and pulls out the pair that he’s kept on him today to show that it’s no big deal, and they’re the ones from yesterday, you recognize.

He’s bashful, arguably, but not necessarily embarrassed. It’s more about getting caught than it is the actual act. Like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He’s not sorry for taking them, he’s just sorry that it’s kinda awkward for you to find the stash. He laughs awkwardly, shrugging it off or trying to anyway. Explains that he just rarely gets time to himself, so he is uses them when he’s alone in Templo to get his mind right. That your scent calms him and helps his focus. He didn’t think you’d mind too much, he just also never expected you to find out.

He's not sorry in the slightest and he makes sure you know it too. He bought every pair anyway, what's the issue? He could buy you 30 pairs by lunch 🙄 He wasn't up from about it, no, but he also didn't necessarily hide it. It just wasn't entirely in the open. You're respectful and don't go through his stuff in his office so how would you have known he had an entire drawer of his desk with them all collected in there? You'll get over it, a few new lingerie sets will make sure of that.

The OG of panty stealing and sniffing himself. It’s canon after all. He just can’t help himself. You’re his moon and stars and he just can’t get enough of you. Even when you’re perched in his lap, cockwarming him, face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, it’s not enough. He needs to be in your skin. But he can’t. So stealing your panties is the next best thing. It’s a compulsion he can’t fight. God knows he’s tried. And he tells you as much. Lists all of the things he did first to try and not have to submit to that desire. But in the end it didn’t matter. He just needs to have your most intimate article with him at all times. Keeps He doesn’t want you to think he’s a freak but he also just need you to know how much he absolutely loves, adores, and worships you. He’ll even hand over the pair in his pocket if you ask him to.

He's nonchalant about it. It's just panties. You have a bunch more. Not like you were gonna miss them or something. He just loves you and likes to have something of yours that he can keep nearby when he misses you. One in his pocket, one in the sale bag of his bike tucked away hidden. His stash is dispersed, not because he was necessarily hiding them, but because there's one each place that will serve a purpose.

Also not embarrassed. Hits you with that famous smirk, his shoulders shrugging as you stare at him waiting for an answer. "Just miss you sometimes, Darlin'. Just somethin' to get me by." Like it's perfectly normal. He left you your favorite pairs after all. He only takes the ones you're not the biggest fan of, so you wouldn't notice as quickly. It's not a big deal, he can give them back. Sometimes he just needs to sit in the chapel with them over his face while he strokes himself before Church so he can make sure he has a level head before this important vote.

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @wrcn9fvlcver @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @appropriate-writers-name @blessedboo @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @myakai13

@cruzwalters @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty @lyly00 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @90sisthenew80s @lovelytricia @librarian1002

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bumblesimagines · 8 months

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“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”

“i’d tap that.”

“your ass is your best quality.”

Angel Reyes

“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”

“i’d tap that.”

“your ass is your best quality.”

pronouns: they/them, gender neutral

reminder that i do have a ko-fi if anyone has ever wanted to tip me!

"Angel, what do you think of me?" It wasn't everyday you asked Angel Reyes for his opinion, but one disastrous date had left you feeling down and desperate for at least some comfort. Angel blinked at you, lips pressed to the rim of his bottle and brows slowly knitting in question. "Do you think I'm boring? Hopeless and destined for nothing?"

“Who the fuck said that? You’re great.” Angel scoffed and took one last swing of his beer, emptying the bottle completely and shoving it in the direction of the nearest prospect.

"I had a date last night and they said I was boring." You revealed in a mutter, a soft sigh slipping past your lips. Your first date in years and it ended with tears, wine, and ice cream. Angel winced.

"Fuck 'em. They don't know what their missing out on."

"What are they missing out on, Angel? I serve beers to criminals for a living and only have a one bedroom apartment to my name." You groaned and slumped down on the bar, face burying into your forearms. Angel exchanged a glance with the amused yet silent Ez beside him.

"Well, for starters, your ass is your best quality." Ez elbowed his side. "And, you have a great sense of humor. Besides, not everyone can serve beer to a motorcycle club and not piss themselves."

You laughed into your arms and lifted your head with a small smile. "My ass is my best quality."

"Exactly. I'd tap that."

"I'd be flattered but you'd fuck anything that breathes and has a hole, Angel."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc x male reader #mayans mc x female reader #mayans mc x you #mayans mc x y/n #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x male reader #angel reyes x female reader #ez reyes

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volvaofowls · 2 months

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Mayans crushing on/ being infatuated with a younger reader

This is my first time writing for Mayans. I know there are many fans of the show but I feel like there is not enough people writing for it and showing it love.

Note: I roughly guessed what the guys ages would be at the beginning of the series based on their apperance and actors' ages. I would love to know how old you think they are!

Bishop – 49

Taza – 62

Tranq – 44

Riz – 37

Creeper – 41

Gilly – 36

Coco – 34

Angel – 30

Ez – 26

Bishop – He didn’t have any qualms about his attraction to you in the beginning. Walking up to you when you were at the clubhouse and flirting with you, saying it was good to see you around. He didn't think too much about it, he likes the way he feels when you are responding to him in a positive way. Bishop lies to himself, he doesn’t purposefully seek you out in the crowd, but Taza points it out for him - "Don't worry Prez, your girl is outside, having a smoke with Gilly". - And that phrase hits him; the fact that someone has noticed his interest in you, and more so called you "his girl" - that spreads warmth in his chest. He wants you to be his girl, but he is not sure how you feel about it. Sure you reciprocate his attention, smile at him and spend more time with him than other members of MC, but it doesn't mean you want anything more with him than friendship. The age gap is large, Bishop could be your father; and the potential comments that would follow make him shrudder, yet the thought of you in his arms makes him think that he could deal with being the butt of the jokes for some time.

Taza – Taza thought that love is not for him anymore. But the familiar butterflies are starting to dance in his belly again when you laugh at his joke. He loves the feeling of it, but the moment he realises it he gets scared. He is not ready for it, he didn’t think it is possible, he is too old and commited too many sins to be rewarded with these emotions. Taza wonders what he can possibly offer you? His life is filled with violence and loneliness.But then he takes out his phone and sees your name across the screen Che thinks that maybe he can give it a try.

Tranq – Tranq is a rough man, for the majority of his life he had only his mother and the club. He is "El Pacificador", a giant of a man, always in the epicentre of fights. Even though he is not the loudest and meanest in the club he thinks he might be too imposing for you, scare you away. Let alone the fact that he is in his 40's. Still, when he is next to you Hank’s increased heart beat drowns out the doubts. Against his wishes the softer side of him comes out. The way you lean on Tranq's shoulder when you are tipsy, or when you ask specifically for his help with your car makes him feel special, and he never wants to let go of this feeling. Quite the opposite, he feels insatiable, he is hungry for your affection and Hank wants more of it. He is not a greedy man, he shares everything in life with his club, but you are someone Hank wants to keep all to himself.

Riz – Michael has been disillusioned with life long ago, many people in his life shunned him; only in the brotherhood of Mayans did he find the solace. Riz craves love, family and companionship is something he always secretly wanted. Maybe that's why he was always a ladies man - trying to fill a void in his life with someone, something. When he met you for the first time, it was hard to avert his eyes from you. You were like the smell of rain in summer before the thunder strikes, Riz felt that when you stepped into the clubhouse you brought change with you, and it was just for him, and he welcomes this feeling with an open heart.

Riz knows he likes what he is seeing and he wants you to like him as well. He just needs his chance to prove that he can make it work, and he does what he does best, trying to smooth talk you. Offering you a drink and showering in compliments. He wants you to have a good time with him, he sure does with you. Once you jokingly called him an "old man", Riz quickly shot back that he prefers "daddy" instead, laughing at your shy expression. Age is not a problem for him, not when it comes to you and what the two of you could have, and he is willing to show it to you.

Creeper – Creeper didn’t really think that romantic love was for him. Since childhood there was nothing but darkness staining his life, like he is punished for doing something in his past life and can never repent. So Neron never expects gifts from live; he takes, but only gives. He gives his loyalty and time to his club and he gives his love to you, Creeper doesn't feel like he is allowed to receive any back from you.

Neron feels disgusted with himself and his want for you. You are almost too clean for him, Creeper doesn't have the right to mess you up. He tries to avoid you, but it’s as if you are always seeking him out, sipping on water with him at the parties, forgoing the alcohol. All the time you are asking him about his tattoos, and one time while planning your own you reach out and touch his forearm where a faces of women are depicted. Neron feels burned, but its amazing, he wants to keep your hands there, on him, interested in him. He is scared of rejection, he wants your love, he is ready to trade anything in his poor life in order to be yours.

Gilly – Gilly is know for “disarming” ladies, but it was a shock to him when you swooped into his heart and disarmed him. This young woman, too young for him comes and can out-do him in telling dirty jokes? Who are you? And you are playfully offering to arm-wrestle him, losing instantly. But he loves it, he feels like a teenager again, trying to show off infront of you. You have him wrapped around your finger and you don't even realise it. Other guys are teasing him in good fun, but when one day Coco jokes “you better act up brother or all the younger ones will steal her from under your old nose” Gilly laughs with him but it makes him think “oh shit…. I don’t wanna lose her to anyone”.

Coco – He was a little apprehensive at first about his feelings for you. You have less of an age difference with Letty than with him. He thinks that what he is feeling for you is wrong, even if you are a grown person. Coco always tried to stay away from the things that he cares for, it’s easier that way, he doesn't hurt anyone but only himself that way. You are precious to him, you care for him and Letty seems to like you. He already made all the guys in the club aware that he is interested in you and not to treat you badly. When members from other charters come and you are there, he makes sure to be near you or to keep an eye on you. You should be treated with the outmost respect and gentleness. Gentleness is a funny word for Coco; mainly because nothing in his life is, but he wants to learn it for you.

Angel – Angel stopped caring what other people think long time ago. He feels like he always has to prove himself to others and its never enough. So when you praise him, Angel can't even stop himself, he is floored. You think he is amazing, and you support him when he has a bad day. You are younger, but he feels like he has to look up to you. You are showing him the way of how to live life without being afraid of rejection. Angel thought he is brave, but he relearns the defenition of it when he is with you. He doesn't see the age gap between you as a boundary, because there is so much you bring to his life. And Angel wants for the first time in his life too repay that affection, he wants to make it his mission to worship you and elevate you. You are his guardian angel.

Ez – He hasn't been lucky in love, EZ knows he falls in love fast and hard, but with you he feels like he is falling even harder. Even though your age gap is not too big, he feels like you have whole life ahead of you, he doesn't want you to be tied to him. There is so much you could be doing, travelling, things that EZ cannot join you on. But he is aching for you to choose him over everything else, although he will never admit it, as it will be too selfish. It feels like his life is fixable when you are together and he doesn’t have to just survive anymore, with you he can live.

#mayans imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #bishop losa x reader #taza romero x reader #hank loza x reader #riz ariza x reader #neron vargas x reader #gilly lopez x reader #coco cruz x reader #angel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader

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drabbles-mc · 3 months

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Sugar

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I've ever written for, I'm aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We'll see how far we get!

Prompt: petals

Word Count: 423

A/N: I miss prepping craft projects for my students and somehow we ended up here 😂

You were sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath the coffee table in your living room while you worked. The television was on but you weren't really paying it any mind as you cut out flower petals from construction paper, preparation for crafts with your students the next day.

Above the white noise of the television, and the satisfying sound of your scissors gliding through the paper, was the sound of Angel's voice as he vented to you about what had gone down in Templo earlier that afternoon.

“I swear to god,” he said as he went to the fridge to grab himself a beer, “I wish we were kids so I could dribble his head like a fuckin’ basketball the way I used to.” He popped the cap off the bottle and took a sip. “Bounce that shit right off the floor,” he said as he mimed a dribbling motion with his free hand. He looked over at you. “I think I could still do it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you kept your eyes trained on the paper in front of you. “Physically? Yeah, you probably could. But do you really think it'd solve anything?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed as he came and stood by the coffee table, neck craned down so he could watch you work. “Knock some brain cells back into place.”

You shook your head again with a knowing smile. “It's like I tell my students– you get more with sugar than–”

“Than you do with shit,” he finished with a sigh. “I know but I don't think I buy that shit, querida.”

You finally looked up at him. “Salt.”

His brows knit in confusion. “What?”

“You get more with sugar than you do with salt, Angel.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I'm pretty sure–”

You set the scissors down and leaned back slightly. “You think I'd say ‘you get more with sugar than you do with shit’ to my students? My elementary students?”

A smile quirked the end of his mouth. “I mean, it's still true.”

You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't help yourself. With a loving roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to come and sit with you. “Come down here and help me out with this, will you?”

He didn't put up a fight as he plopped down beside you. “Tryin’ to distract me,” he said with a smirk.

You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his jaw before handing him his own pair of scissors. “Sugar instead of salt.”

#mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans fx #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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saturnville · 6 months

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I have to be that person for a second. I have released 5-6 fics in the last two weeks. why? because I fed off the love and interaction I was given. when you take the time to appreciate and interact with writers AND their content, they're more enticed and more motivitated to produce more content. so as you prepare to ask a creator to feed you more content, ask yourself if you're taking the time to REBLOG, like, and comment on their work.

thanks again for your guys' support. it pulled me out of a writing slump <3

#thg #saturnville #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x black reader #peter parker x black reader #shuri x black reader #steve rogers x black reader #angel reyes x black reader #ez reyes x black reader #rio x black reader #jamie fraser x black reader #peter parker x reader #shuri x reader #rio x reader #ez reyes x reader #angel reyes x reader #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black reader

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kindnessisweakness2 · 11 months

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Masterlist!!

Delusional (Jax Teller X OC!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28

*** (Jax Teller X OC!) - Havent worked out a name for this yet!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Perfect Chaos (Angel Reyes X OC!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

You Were A Bet (Angel Reyes X OC)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #Mayans MC #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #Jax Teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #jax teller x oc #Jax Teller x Female Reader #angel reyes #angel x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic

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juicesgf · 2 months

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You Belong to Me. - Angel Reyes

He slammed the beer bottle on the bar never taking his eyes off her. She was doing it on purpose he knew she was.

And fuck did he hate it.

💋💋💋💋💋💋

His hands never left my waist as we “danced”

“Your really cute you know” I whispered biting down on his ear lightly

“Oh really?” Ez mumbled his hands roaming further down my body

“I love you Ez but get your hands off her now.” Angel snapped walking over

I turned my head to look at him as a smirk formed on my face “But we’re having fun”

He grabbed my wrist dragging me to the bathroom before quickly slamming the door shut backing me against the sink.

“You think it’s cute acting like a slut?” He questioned sliding his hands up my skirt

“Mm your brother seems to like it”

That’s all it took for the switch in him to flip. His hands went to her shirt ripping it off throwing it to the floor doing the same with her skirt.

“No panties or bra? Fucking whore.” He spat attaching his lips to hers his hands sliding between her legs.

A whimper left her mouth as he pulled away sliding his finger inside her. “This pussy.” He paused picking up his pace his fingers moving faster inside her “Mine.”

He uses his other hand to cup one of her boobs lowering his mouth to suck on one momentarily before pulling away. “These boobs.” he smirked giving the other a soft kiss “Mine.”

“These beautiful lips” He whispered bringing his mouth to hers placing a sloppy kiss before pulling away “Mine.”

He pulled out his fingers from inside her before sucking her juices off his finger. When he finished he cupped her face with his hands forcing her to look at him “You belong to me.” He stated before smirking and leaving the bathroom

“Never forget who you belong to princess” He laughed before closing the door behind him.

I’d genuinely do anything this man told me to.

-hails🧸

#mayans mc fanfiction #mayans smut #mayans x reader #mayans mc imagines #mayans mc imagine #mayans fx #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #SoundCloud

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bullet-prooflove · 8 months

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Problem Child: Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics

Sequel to Valeria

Ten minutes…

Ten minutes is what you allow yourself to grieve, to cry, to feel all of the emotions that are coursing through your system in the aftermath of the revelation that Angel has a daughter.

It’s agony, this feeling in your chest. You’ve felt it before after your Nana died and you feel it again as you sit in your car outside of Angel’s house. Your chest’s tight, and you think about that baby, left all alone on the porch, the same way you were all those years ago.

Anything could have happened. Someone else could have taken her, the two of you may have decided to go out instead, Angel may have come over to yours. Lord knows how long she could have been out there. These are the thoughts that ramble through your head as you sit there with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.

There is no doubt that the baby is Angel’s. You’ve seen pictures of him as a child and Valeria is the spitting image of him. You wonder where this leaves the two of you, if Skylar genuinely couldn’t cope or if she did this to teach him a lesson.

She’s your problem now… The letter had read.

Barely a couple of weeks old and already labelled a problem.

You think your mother must have said something similar to your Nana when she’d dropped you off.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks with the back of your hand, before tilting the rearview mirror to face you. You stare back at your reflection and take a deep breath.

You know what you have to do, someone needs to take control because you know right now that Angel isn’t in a condition to do it. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him, you know he’s not going to cope, not on his own. He needs some stability, someone who can remain firm, who can guide him when he falters.

You pick up your phone and thumb through the contacts until you find the name that you’re searching for.

“Felipe. It’s me.” You say when he picks up the phone. “Angel needs you.”

***

You’re not coming back. Angel knows that and it devastates him. It feels like his whole life is crashing down around his head, like he can’t catch a second to breath. He cradles the baby to his chest, his lips brushing over her soft skin. He has to push all of that aside, he has to think about Valeria because she has to be his priority right now.

His gaze comes to rest on his father. Felipe is seated at the kitchen table, the letter from Skylar clasped in his hands as he studies it.

“Lila’s not coming back.” Angel says quietly.

“Give her time.” Felipe says as he sets the letter down. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Angel shakes his head because he knows this is too much. He can’t ask you to take on a baby. The two of you have never talked about kids. He didn’t know if you wanted them or not. He figured there would be plenty of time to figure that out later.

He’s surprised when he hears the key in the lock. You mutter a curse as your hip bumps against the door handle, crossing over the threshold with a bassinet tucked under your arm and several bags filled with God knows what.

“Give Valeria here.” Felipe says, raising to his feet and reaching out for the baby. “Go help her.”

He’s already in motion, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he catches one of the bags just as it slips from your grasp. He takes note of the diapers and formula, before he takes the bassinet from you.

“I managed to get this stuff from Carmen, she keeps a bunch of it aside for new parents who are struggling to make ends meet.” You explain as you haul the other bags with you into the kitchen. “Bishop was there, he had a lot of questions, but I told him you’d call him tomorrow. He seemed to be ok with that.”

Angel doesn’t even know where to begin. The words catch in his throat and there’s an ache in his chest as he looks at you because even now, you’re still taking care of him, not just him but Valeria too.

“I think we have everything we need for tonight.” You say as you set the bags down on the table. “I can get the rest of the stuff on my list when the stores open up in the morning.”

“I thought…”

“I needed a minute.” You tell him quietly. “You know what happened to me, Valeria being dropped off like that…” You don’t have to say anything else. Angel gets it and so does Felipe. “I want to be there for her and for you. I want to be part of this little family.”

“Are you sure?” he asks you quietly, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek.

You nod your head before your arms wrap around his waist and you draw him close. It feels good to have you back in his arms, he finds the gesture reassuring. You’ve always been a port in a storm for him and the fact you’re here right now soothes him more than he would ever admit to anybody else.

“Yea.” You tell Angel, your fingertips toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I want this, I want this with you.”

“Ok Mi Reina.” Angel murmurs as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Let’s do it. Let’s be a family.”

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#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #mayans mc #angel reyes imagine #mayans fx #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

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Handle Him

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Just some spice-adjacent thoughts for Angel that popped up this afternoon ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Not beta-read.

Warnings: Cursing; fluff; jealous Reader; fluffy kissy slightly possessive Angel; established relationship; no Y/N; the only physical trait mentioned is that Reader is shorter than Angel (it does not specify by how much)

Summary: You’ve always been on the quieter side. You’re not the type to flaunt your relationship in public. Angel knows. He knows that you’re likely to shy from his kisses around others—to squirm if his hands linger a little longer than usual on certain parts of your body. He respects it. He doesn’t push, or plead, or ply.

That’s probably half the reason none of these women know about it—or if they’ve heard, the reason that they likely don’t believe it.

“You seen Angel tonight?”

“Fuck yes. He seems wound tight.”

“Kinda standoffish, too. He barely looked at Melissa when she went over there.”

“He’s barely been lookin’ at anybody lately.”

“Gimme an hour, girl. We’ll handle him.”

The insistence is chased with cackling and teasing purrs. You’ve heard this (or conversations like it) for as long as you’ve been hanging around the Mayans clubhouse. It’s nothing new—Angel is a hot commodity. But where those antics used to make you roll your eyes, they make you curl your nails into your palms now. No, Angel hasn’t been looking at anybody around the clubhouse. Angel’s been looking at you and only you for months now.

You’d been skeptical that he would keep his eyes and his hands to himself at first, but by all accounts, he’s been loyal. It’s only been confirmed by the repeated complaints of the girls around the clubhouse. You could always turn around, throw your truth in their face, but they probably wouldn’t believe it. You’ve always been on the quieter side. You’re not the type to flaunt your relationship in public. Angel knows. He knows that you’re likely to shy from his kisses around others—to squirm if his hands linger a little longer than usual on certain parts of your body. He respects it. He doesn’t push, or plead, or ply.

That’s probably half the reason none of these women know about it—or if they’ve heard, the reason that they likely don’t believe it.

But hearing these women talk about him like he’s a prize to be won, like he can be lured into their arms or beds, lights in fire under you the likes of which you’ve never known. You glance over to him just in time to see him draining his beer. You stand, grabbing one of the same from behind the bar and striding over. Your righteous indignation wavers just a little as you pass the gaggle of women planning on handling him. You can feel their gazes following you, but you don’t let that slow you down. Your nerves are lessened as Angel catches your eye—as he gives you a wide smile and passes his cue over to EZ to hold.

“Saw you go dry,” You hold the fresh beer out to him.

“Thanks, baby,” He murmurs, taking hold of the bottle.

“You need anything else?”

“Nah, I’m alright. You good?”

“Mhm,” You nod. Then, summoning all of your courage, you reach up. You curl your shaking hands around his cut, reveling in the crinkle of the leather beneath your palms as you draw him down. You only just catch sight of his eyes widening before you close your own, lips pressing to his. You hear the guys whooping around you, and the thud of Angel setting his beer down before his hands smooth over your hips, giving them a squeeze. You grin as he uses his grasp to draw you just a little closer. You can only imagine those women are getting quite the eyeful. You slip a hand from his collar to smooth over the side of his neck, giving him a squeeze before drawing back, gently breaking your kiss.

Angel gazes down at you with wide, stunned eyes, blinking almost dopily before EZ whacks his arm with the pool cue and a mutter of, “It’s your turn.”

You step out of Angel’s arms and move over to the short cabinet near the table, pushing yourself to sit on it, beside his beer. You don’t say a word as Angel takes the cue, or as he walks around the table to position his shot. You just smile as he lines it up, and catch his eye as you pick his beer up and teasingly tongue the rim. He spits a curse, just narrowly missing his shot. You smile with true bashfulness, muttering an apology as he walks back to you.

“One’a the guys put you up to this, huh?” He asks, palming and spreading your thighs to stand between them. “Trying to get me to fuck up the game?”

“No,” You giggle. “That was an honest mistake.”

Angel grunts, dipping his head and nosing along your jaw. “That’s honest bullshit.” He presses his face into your neck, and you shiver as he draws in a deep breath, then groans.

“Always smell so damn good, baby,” He murmurs, beard and lips brushing against your skin. His begins to hands slip up your thighs, then goes still and tense. “This alright?”

You smile, setting the beer down and curling your arms around his shoulders.

“Yes,” You reassure, casting an eye toward the women. You can’t help the vindicated smile that curls your lips at their gobsmacked, irritated faces. “More than.”

Angel nuzzles into your skin, his hands sliding up your thighs. You squeak, face going hot as he slips one of his hands beneath your ass, giving it a squeeze. You eye the pool table, and the guys' growing irritation.

“It’s your turn again,” You warn.

“Alright.” He draws back, tipping his chin down to look at you. “You gonna keep your hands off’a my beer?”

“If I must.”

Angel grins, giving your ass another cheeky squeeze before drawing away. You lean back against the wall, swinging one leg back and forth as you watch the guys play. You make it a point to keep your eyes on them, and not to stray back toward the others—to the women that mistakenly thought that they could handle him.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?”

It’s a fair question. You’re a little surprised he’s taken so long to ask it, and you’re incredibly happy that he’s not facing you when he finally does. Angel’s chosen to sit out the last couple of rounds of pool, instead leaning against the cabinet and chilling with you as you watch the others. You’re cuddled up against his back now, arms looped around his shoulders, hands dangling against his chest. You’ve been bracing for the question, but now that he’s asked it, your embarrassment and nerves are beginning to creep up again.

You press your face into his neck, despite the fact that he can’t see you without twisting or turning.

“It’s gonna sound petty and stupid,” You mumble sullenly.

“From you? There’s no way.”

His insistence warms you. You sigh softly, lifting your chin and resting it on his shoulder again.

“...Those girls were talking about you. About getting to you.”

“That’s why?”

“I know,” You groan, leaning back and slouching against the wall, raising your hands to scrub over your face. “I told you: petty and stupid.”

Angel’s fingers curl around your wrists, giving them a tug and drawing them back from your face. You expect to find him smiling amusedly, but when you get a good look at him, you see a darkness in his eyes that you’re usually only privy to when you’re alone. It turns your insides molten hot. Angel uses his grip on your wrists to draw you closer again, pulling your hands behind his back. You bite your lip as he nudges your nose with his.

“Is this what you want?” He murmurs. “Wanna show all’a them that I’m yours?”

You swallow thickly, eyelids fluttering at the brush of his breath against your lips.

“You wanna show ’em who I belong to?” He eggs on as you squeeze your thighs around his hips.

“Little bit,” You mumble as your face heating.

“Just a little bit?” He repeats with a soft chuckle. But he’s not making fun of you—oh, no. He’s just riling you up more. “Maybe you oughta teach them a lesson. What if they forget, hm?”

You close the distance, kissing him harshly. Angel groans, the buzz of it vibrating against your lips as he lets go of your hands. You suck in a breath as his hands slide around your back, slotting your hips tightly together. You slip your hands up into his hair, weaving the strands through your fingers and giving them a tug. His lips part with the feeling, a heady moan slipping from them. You sweep your tongue into his mouth, swirling it sweetly around his.

Just minutes ago, this would’ve felt like a gamble. Just a couple of hours ago, this would’ve been inconceivable. Now, you can’t think of anything other than staking your claim on him in front of everybody in that damn clubhouse until there is no question of who he belongs with, and to.

Angel’s hand sneaks up under the hem of your shirt, fingers spreading across your back. You tip your head to the side, whimpering softly as Angel’s other hand drops to your thigh, hiking it just a little further around him. The tug shifts you even further toward the edge of the cabinet, and you pull in a stunned breath as Angel curls over you, sucking kisses along the side of your neck. You tip your hips down against his, thrilling at the feeling of him hardening in his jeans. You slip a hand between the two of you, palming him and grinning as he growls low, bucking against your hand.

If you had just a second more, just a touch more boldness, you’d slip your fingers past his waistband—

“Would you two get a room?” Gilly grouses behind Angel.

“Seriously, bro. We don’t need to see this,” EZ pipes up, whacking his brother on the shoulder.

Angel straightens up, an almost glazed look in his eyes as his tongue sweeps across his kiss-plumped lips. He takes a step back, gripping your hand and helping you down from the cabinet. You don’t even bother to hide your giddiness as you let him tug you from the room, in full view of the other club members, their old ladies, and the others. You don’t care where you’re going, and frankly, you don’t care.

Your man has it handled.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @thesandbeneathmytoes

#Angel Reyes x Reader #Angel Reyes x You #Angel Reyes/Reader #Angel Reyes/You #Angel Reyes fic #Angel Reyes imagine #Handling Him

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imagineredwood · 3 months

Text

Get Some Sleep

Summary: Your neighbor Angel is very protective. Very.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader

Warnings: Dark/yandere Angel, mentions of a mean ex, breaking and entering technically, blood

A/N:I...I don't know where this came from. It just happened as I conjured up ideas about being chased in the woods 👀

You blink once.

Twice.

A third time.

Then a fourth.

Your eyes seeing the scene in front of you clearly, yet your brain entirely unable to process what being fed into it. There’s a man sitting across the room in your chair but it’s dark, and you can’t see who it is. It’s just a shadow, shoulders broad, one leg brought up bent to rest crossed against the other knee. You can hear your heart’s every beat in your ears, pounding in your fear. You sit still, unsure what else to do, hoping that it’s just a pile of clothes that looks super scarily like a figure.

But you emptied all of the clothes out of that chair today when you were cleaning.

“Hello?”

Your voice sounds foreign, raspy and stupid.

If this were a horror movie, you’d be laughing at the girl on screen. But you don’t know what else to do. And just when you’re sure that you’re simply hallucinating, a voice answers you back.

“Hi, baby.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and despite your brain recognizing the voice, you can’t put a face to it. The term of endearment has a shiver running through you and you reach over to turn on the lamp in a panic. You spin your head back, a whimper dying in your throat as you can see him fully now.

“Angel.”

He smiles tightly, then it’s gone again, eyes dark as they keep staring at you.

Your panic settles, thankful that it isn’t a knife wielding stranger in your home, watching you while you sleep. Eyes settling down to his hand, you catch the glint of metal.

No, it’s just a knife wielding neighbor that’s watching you while you sleep. The question leaves your lips before you can stop it.

“What are you doing?”

You tried to keep your voice even but it’s shaky on the last word. You can see small splatters of red something dried on his knuckles, a few on his cheek. He shrugs, eyes still on you.

“Your ex showed up. Tried to get in.”

You swallow, the mere mention of the cruel man making your heart quicken again. Angel doesn’t allow you time to fret.

“He’s gone. I took care of it.”

He lets his crossed leg slide back down until both booted feet are flat on the floor, his body straightening out a bit.

“He won’t come here again. He won’t ever hurt you again. I promise. You don’t have to worry about him.”

It’s a whirlwind of emotions as you try to convince yourself that maybe he doesn’t mean what you think he means. Feeling relief, yet worry at the same time.

“What did you do, Angel?”

His eyes are soft as they look at you, if not a little unhinged.

“Don’t worry, mi amor. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You swallow and the noise is audible in the silence of the room. He sucks his teeth and then stands, putting the knife back in it’s sheath, stalking towards you. He won’t hurt you. You’re almost certain. But his walk is still reminiscent of whatever happened while you were asleep, and you swallow again as he comes up to the side of the bed, towering over you. His clean hand is gentle as it presses against your chest right below your throat and pushes you to lie back down.

Your head is swimming, foggy from the rush of adrenaline and remnants of sleep, still wondering how your beautifully rugged neighbor has managed to get into your home and what transpired in your home when he caught your ex trying to slither his way inside. You stare up at him from your pillow as his hands come to tug at the cord of your lamp, switching it back off and leaving you in the dark, only the moonlight illuminating his face.

“Get some sleep. You’ll be safe.”

When you wake up again, it’s nearly 8AM and the night’s events come flooding back in, your body sitting up straight, eyes immediately going over to the chair in the corner. You breathe out a huff when you find it empty, and you wonder if maybe it had only been a dream. A weird, hyper-realistic dream. There’s no sign of the biker neighbor who always seems to be there whenever you need help and you’re convinced that maybe, your brain has made the entire thing up. You stand, making your way to the bathroom, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. You go about your morning routine like normal, eyes searching for evidence every now and then, but you don’t find anything to suggest that you were anything over than alone last night. You chuckle, almost embarrassed, thinking of how ridiculous the entire thing is. It isn’t until you’re at the sink getting breakfast ready that you notice a bulky silver ring sitting in the dish, left to dry and looking extremely clean.

General taglist

Mayans MC taglist

@cruzwalters @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty @lyly00 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @90sisthenew80s @lovelytricia @librarian1002

#mayans mc #imagines #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #dark!angel #mayans imagine #angel reyes imagine #yandere!angel

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menofchaos · 5 months

Note

Oh yes please!

#7. Tracing the other’s lips with their finger

For my DevilMan Angel Reyes💜 Thank you!

Note: Hellooo, hope you like this one! I wrote it with this reader in mind but could be standalone!

“Your girl fits in perfectly!”

The grin didn’t leave Angel’s face the whole night, only getting bigger with Cielo’s remark. They’d been on a few dates, with nothing more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek to end the night. Angel was never gun shy before but she was different. He knew she wouldn’t put up with his games. He learned that early when she would call him out for using overplayed lines on her. He wasn’t even sure she would actually come to the party but she was spinning around the dance floor with some of the other girls. Angel would glare at any man, patch or otherwise, who dared to get too close.

“2 minutes to midnight,” Bishop called, “Everyone outside!”

The party migrated outside and as soon as she was by his side, she took his hand, “What’s going on outside?” she asked.

Angel smiled, “We count down with fireworks and guns and then someone gets in the ring.”

Her eyes lit up, “My kind of party. Who��s fighting?”

“EZ and Hank,” he pointed out Hank, “Wanna watch?”

She grinned and walked onto the porch with him, wrapping an arm around his waist as the party counted down to midnight. He rested his arm around her shoulder, unable to look away from her.

“5…4…3…2…1! Happy New Year!”

She held his cheeks and kissed him, smiling when he pulled her closer. The cheering faded as they stumbled to the couch pushed into the corner of the porch, giggling against each other’s lips. She pulled back, tracing his lips with her finger. Angel shivered, lips parted as he looked up at her almost in awe.

“Happy New Year, Angel,” she whispered.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #mayans imagine #angel reyes

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ficnation · 7 months

Text

Chapter 4: The Love She Holds

Series: “She” Word count: 2,7k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader Warnings: 18+; mayans mc typical warnings, unwanted touch, SMUT kinda A/n: What we're all been waiting for ✨ PS. If I reread this one more time before posting I'll probably scrape it all bcs I'm never satisfied 😩 If you enjoyed reading this please reblog and let me know your thoughts!

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For the next few days, Angel can’t look you in the eyes—hell, he can’t even bring himself to leave his room when he hears you shuffling around the apartment. He waits for the sound of the lock shifting in the door before he can bring himself to stick his head out of his safe haven.

Angel knows he’s the one that fucked up this whole thing with you. He was lonely, and you were in his life for such a long ass time. You’ve never let him down—not even once. You are the sweetest person he’s ever met, yet you can still kick his ass when he’s being a dick. Falling in love with you was inevitable, but he didn’t know it would happen so fast—so soon.

The man sighs as he leans his elbows on the wooden counter, listening to the wheezing of the coffee machine as hot black liquid spurts into the mug. The sound was tickling his nerves in a certain—very annoying—way. It didn’t make him even slightly angry before the bath incident, but now he just can’t stand it—it makes his head hurt.

He slams his fist onto the counter, cursing loudly. The coffee spills over the edge of the mug and barely misses his hand.

“I should fuckin’ do something,” he murmurs to himself through clenched teeth. Since when was he afraid to go after a woman he loves? He’s never been a goddamn pussy. What changed?

You are just so different than anyone Angel’s ever been with. He doesn’t want to lose you—can’t fucking stand the thought of you walking away. He has to do something.

He drops Maverick off at Felipe’s house—gives them some abuelo-nieto time while he drives over to the bar where you work. It’s a shithole—a very suspicious one at that—yet the parking lot in front is almost full. The neon sign above the door flashes on and off when Angel slams the door of his car shut. Jesus, it’s gonna give someone a headache or a fucking seizure.

Entering this building was probably one of the worst mistakes in life—the man thinks as he’s greeted by a couple almost going at it by the entrance. The skinny blond dude has his hand down the poor girl’s skimpy skirt as she moans loudly in his ear, hips rolling into his palm. Fucking disgusting.

He was doing the same exact shit back in the day when he was dumb, reckless, and didn’t care about anyone other than himself. But now the view makes him almost gag.

The brunet pushes past the lovebirds—or rather fuckbirds—through the narrow hallway to the main area. The dimmed red lights flashing above his head and the music that makes every wall pulse with the beat make it seem like more of a club rather than a bar. He’s surprised when he takes a few more steps and a woman dressed in booty shorts with her whole tits out passes by him with a tray full of colorful shots. What the fuck is this place?

Angel looks around wildly, searching the topless women’s faces in fear he’ll recognize one of them. He pushes past the swaying bodies in the middle of the room, and then he sees you—working behind the bar.

He’s relieved when he notices that your chest is covered by one of those bralette thingies you like to wear so much. But he’s not sure whether this relief comes from not wanting the pathetic men around the bar to stare at your perfect body or not wanting to get another surprise boner in front of you.

“You didn’t tell me you’re a bartender now,” he yells through the loud music as your gaze finds him, your eyes widening in shock.

You serve one of the men at the bar a bottle of beer, popping the cap simultaneously, then you come back to Angel and squint at him, trying to find a clue as to why he turned up at your workplace and how he even knew where to find you. This bar was almost an hour's drive away from Santo Padre.

“What the hell are you doing here? I do not have time to put up with your shit right now, Angel,” you sneer at him as you lean over the bar in hopes he’ll hear you better, take the hint and retreat back to his car.

“I’m fucking sorry, alright?!” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation, almost knocking a drink out of some poor girl’s hand.

You blink once, then twice, and your eyebrows scrunch up in annoyance, “Fuck off.” You whip around and go the opposite way to serve another customer.

That’s definitely not how Angel imagined this conversation would go. He didn’t know you were that mad at him. He was a moron to think you’d accept his apology without a peep in the middle of a sea of drunk strangers. This wasn’t a goddamn telenovela.

The man sighs deeply in annoyance before following you to the other side of the bar. “Querida, can we talk? Give me five fucking minutes.”

At first, he’s sure you’ll just ignore him as your eyes almost pop out of your skull—that’s how hard you roll them at his words—but then you turn to him with teary eyes. “I’m at work. I can’t. You really couldn’t wait and ambush me when I’m home?”

“It was an impulse,” he admits. Angel knew it was pretty dumb to think that if he came here, you’d drop everything, so he could explain himself and get rid of this guilt that’s been eating him alive for the past few days. “Please, querida.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” you curse under your breath before waving over the other bartender and shouting through the noise to her that you’re taking a break.

You join Angel on the other side of the counter and tug at his kutte, leading him toward the exit. Before you can even reach the hallway, someone bumps into you, their hands grabbing at your naked waist.

“Hey there, bonita,” the man greets you. The smell of his cologne and cigarettes makes your eyes widen—you know it very well.

Angel stands there for a second, his left brow raised in annoyance and confusion because you seem to know this guy—and he really doesn’t like that thought. He pushes the stranger’s hands off your body with a sneer.

“Man, don’t fucking touch her like that.”

You catch Angel’s forearm and squeeze almost painfully, your nails digging into his inked skin. You don’t turn your head toward him even for a quarter of a second.

“The hell? We’re friends, big guy.” The man’s deep voice and graying beard confuse him even more. Since when do you fancy fucking grandpas?

“Uh, Cesar, hi,” you greet him, your voice squeaky and the upward quirk of your lips fake. The second the stranger’s gaze falls over your grip on the brunet’s arm, you release him. “Sorry, I’ve actually just finished my shift.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.” Cesar’s eyebrows and nose scrunch threateningly. Who the fuck is this guy to be talking to you like that?

You reply without missing a beat, “My kid’s got a fever. It’s an emergency.”

The old guy looks between your face and Angel’s before the grimace falls. The smirk taking its place isn’t any less threatening. “You must be the baby daddy, huh?” he asks, but his tone is clearly mocking.

You pray in your head that Angel will hold his short temper at bay. You know, one wrong word to Cesar equals a shit ton of trouble—even the satisfaction of wiping that disgusting smirk off his face wasn’t worth it.

“Mi niña hermosa. So fucking good at riding, she got herself a biker,” Cesar almost moans those words out as his hand finds your hip, fingers toying with the belt loop of your dress pants. You don’t move to slap his hand away.

Angel raises his fist to punch him, his teeth gritting against each other almost audibly. Before he can deliver that hit, you push him aside and usher him out of the door. You don’t say another word to that Cesar guy—not even a goodbye—as he slips a bill into your back pocket and slaps your ass.

Angel is fucking livid because you know how to take care of yourself, he saw you kill a man before, crush his skull with your goddamn boot, and yet you just take the disrespect in silence. It’s not like you.

Once you’re out the door and out of earshot, he explodes. “Why the fuck did you let him treat you like that?!” His voice reverberates through the night air, earning the two of you a few concerned and annoyed glances from the bystanders.

“That’s my boss. Now shut up and take me home,” you mumble, exhausted, looking around the parking lot in search of Angel’s car. “I spent an hour in the car with that dick to even get here, and now I’m going back after not even half of my shift just because you couldn’t wait to talk,” you rant, almost stumbling over your words.

When you reach the car, and he opens the door at the passenger side like always, he’s surprised to catch a glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. He joins you inside with a sigh, concerned eyes finding your head turned away from him as you stare through the side window.

“Cariño, I’m sorry,” Angel whispers, his hand reaching to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with your bare arm. “Every single time I feel like we’re closer than ever and that maybe you feel something toward me too, you fucking push me away.”

“I know, I’m—”

You cut him off before he has a chance to apologize again, “No, I’m speaking right now. You’ve never yelled at me before. Not like that. You scared the shit out of me, and I blamed myself. Wondered what the hell I did to deserve it. But I didn’t do shit.” You throw your arms in the air, gesticulating toward him. You still refuse to meet his eyes. “You fucked up. Not me. You’re the one that’s been playing with my feelings all this time, and god forbid I try to even out the stakes.”

Angel’s now the one tearing up as his eyes widen at your words. “Querida, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t fucking mean it.” His fingers find solace in tugging on his hair in frustration. “And I never wanted you to feel like I’m playing with your feelings. I’m so sorry.”

You turn away from him again, biting your lip to keep the sobs inside. “Please, just drive me home, Angel.” The desperation in your voice is heartbreaking.

So he does what you ask of him and drives you home in silence. He doesn’t have it in him to try again when you’re already struggling, trying to keep the whimpers from wrecking your body. And when you pull up in front of your apartment building with a heavy heart, he lets you jump out of the car and rush to the door.

He stays in his seat, trying to recollect himself—it doesn’t help, he still hates himself for making you feel this way. It takes a while for him to get inside the apartment, he dreads that when he walks in, you’ll tell him to take his shit and get out of your life.

Angel knows he fucked up, and you were right; he played with your feelings—played with his own too. He slept in your bed almost every night, cuddled with you, kissed your forehead and told you ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’. How was it any different from how he’d treat Nails, Luisa, or any other woman he loved? Minus the sex. And when you challenged that unspoken boundary—on purpose or not—he chickened out and treated you like a plague. What the hell was wrong with him?

The apartment is swallowed in darkness when he enters it. You’re nowhere to be seen, and he figures out you’ve probably shut yourself inside your room, maybe even locked the door, so he wouldn’t be able to come in. He wouldn’t blame you.

He sits on the couch in the gloom and stares into the void. He’ll wait for you to come to him once you’re ready—he’ll sit here for hours if he has to. Angel needs to fix this, tell you what’s really been on his mind the past couple of days—tell you how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how fucking terrifying it is.

Three hours pass, and he’s almost dozed off on the couch, his head tilted forward, his back slumped, and his eyelids drooping with every second. The wooden floor creaks underneath your footsteps, waking him up completely. The sleepiness evaporates into thin air as he straightens up and finds your frame in the darkness.

You switch on one of the lamps in the corner of the room. Its warm glow takes over its surroundings, but not overwhelmingly so. Angel squints a little as your frame drops onto the couch beside him. You sniffle softly before leaning your head on his shoulder.

His heart shatters just a little bit more, and his voice carries it, breaking in the middle of the sentence, “I’m sorry, cariño.”

You don’t acknowledge his apology—you don’t really need to. Your next words are all the forgiveness he could ever want.

“I love you, Angel,” you mumble against his arm. It’s a quiet confession, yet it echoes in his mind like a mantra.

He feels your tears soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. The man blinks in shock once, or twice, then pulls you into his lap and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“You know I love you too, right? More than any woman I’ve ever loved,” he admits, and it pains him, but it’s the truth.

He loved Luisa and Stephanie, but those feelings pale in comparison to what he feels for you. Angel never experienced this overwhelming want to protect someone from the whole goddamn world—the pure need to spend every single minute of his life with them and care about them more than he’s ever cared about himself. He feels that for you—like he could throw himself into a burning fire if someone promised him his sacrifice would give you and Maverick safety for the rest of your lives.

You straighten up in his arms and cradle his jaw in your palms. When your eyes meet, you see that burning fire in them. He doesn’t need to say anything else—you understand him without words.

Your lips press against his tentatively at first, tasting the love and longing. But Angel has a different idea. He pulls you flush against his chest, hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His tongue grazes the plush of your lips, and you part them for him without a second thought.

That night, he fucks you on the couch in the middle of your living room, your back pressed against the cushions as he slides inside you with a guttural groan. It’s sweet and needy. The desire you harbored for each other finally released into the world—he’s far past feeling guilty, and sorry for a woman that’s long gone.

Your moans reverberate through the room, and all he can think about is how perfectly he fits inside you—like you were made just for him. One look into your eyes, and he knows you’re thinking the same thing.

Your nails bite into the bare skin of his back, and the pain is so lovely—he could get drunk on it. He pushes deeper and deeper until you’re a whimpering, clenching mess beneath him. It’s a picture that burns into his brain, he’ll never be able to get it out—not that he’ll ever want to.

When he spills inside you with a groan, you pull him flush against your naked frame, cradling his face in your palms and leaving sweet pecks anywhere you can reach.

He’s addicted already, he’ll never be able to give you away now—not a chance in the world. Angel’s love for you is burned into his heart permanently.

Taglist: @neverland14353 @darklydeliciousdesires @spnaquakindgdom @dreamy-caramel @mars469

#“she”#angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes #angel reyes series #angel reyes smut #mayans m.c. x reader #mayans x reader #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans MC series #mayans mc smut

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drabbles-mc · 21 days

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Never Been Us

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, mentions of character death

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: the way i've been so blocked up and unable to finish fics and somehow i finished 2 in the last 2 days. no idea where it came from but I'm not questioning it. i started and finished this tonight. throwing it out there before i can second-guess myself lmao

When Angel rolled into your driveway and saw your front door open, the first thing that went through him was panic. You’d never been the type that was stupid or reckless enough to leave your front door open. And with the way that things had been going in Santo Padre, what with the club and the cartels and Border Patrol moving in, you were less likely than ever to leave yourself so vulnerable. Hell, lately whenever Angel showed up your door had not only been closed, but also locked.

Putting the stand down on his bike, he left his helmet hanging off the handlebar and started making his way towards your front door. He’d pulled his gun from his kutte before he even had one foot on your front step. He kept his breath trapped in the back of his throat as he clutched his gun tight. He kept it pointed down towards the ground for now, but he was ready for that to change.

He stepped through the threshold, one boot hitting the paper-thin throw rug just inside your door. It hardly muffled the sound. Before he could bring the other half of his body into your house, though, you popped up, quickly coming around the corner.

The sudden nature of both your appearances had you both cursing in surprise. You hugged the box in your hands tighter to your chest as your half-yell turned into a sigh of relief mixed with exhaustion. All of the emotions that just shot through you were evident as ever as you said, “What the fuck, Angel?”

His eyebrows were still practically in his hairline as he tucked his gun back away again. “The fuck you got your door open for? Had me thinkin’ someone fuckin’ broke—” He cut his own sentence off as he really took in the sight of you, the box in your hands that was hastily labeled BEDROOM. “What…?”

The confusion on his face made you unable to keep meeting his eyes. Your gaze dropped to the box you were holding, the seams of cardboard and tape suddenly more interesting than you would’ve ever imagined they’d be. Even though you weren’t looking directly at him, you heard the way he was shifting in the doorway, looking back at your pickup truck. You knew he’d see the other boxes you’d already stacked in the bed of it. You weren’t quite done loading up yet, but you were getting there.

He waited for you to look at him again before asking, “What’s going on?”

There was only one answer to his question, and it was an obvious one. But you knew that if the shoe was on the other foot you’d be doing the same thing—you’d need to hear him say it. Clearing your throat, you gave a shrug that accomplished nothing in terms of softening the blow of, “I’m leaving.”

His frown deepened, confusion transforming into hurt that almost had you rethinking your decision to get the hell out of Santo Padre. “L-leaving? You can’t…you can’t just leave.”

“Angel—”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “nah you don’t get to do that. You can’t just leave. You didn’t even—were you even gonna tell me?”

The lump in the back of your throat felt like it was on the brink of choking you. “Yeah.”

“Before you crossed fuckin’ county lines?”

Tears stung your eyes. “Angel, please.”

He backpedaled out your doorway and back onto your front step. “Don’t do that. Don’t say my name like that, like I fuckin’ matter to you.”

“You do—”

“You’re leaving me. You can’t stand there with your shit all boxed up,” he gestured to you and the bed of your truck, “and try to tell me I fuckin’ matter to you.”

There was no getting out of this argument now. It was an argument you’d been planning to have over the phone, an argument you were hoping would happen when there were more than a few area codes between you. You didn’t want it to be like this—not because he didn’t matter, but because he mattered too much. And you knew that if you had to look into those sad, puppy-dog eyes and tell him that you were leaving, and if you had to tell him why, you just might hang it all up and not leave at all. You couldn’t afford that.

There was no avoiding the argument but you didn’t want to do it while standing there holding a box that had books and trinkets from your bookshelf packed inside it. You slipped past him without a word and walked down to your truck. Angel didn’t follow, hanging back and watching as you set the box on the tailgate and gave it a strong push to send it sliding and landing right alongside the others.

When you walked back past him and into your house, that was when he decided to follow you. He shut the door behind the two of you, following you through your now essentially empty home. It was strange for him to walk through your living room and not see all of your picture frames and plants, the art prints that had covered your walls. You stopped in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter and facing him. You watched him look around, take in the fridge that was no longer covered in magnets and photographs and takeout menus. No more dishes in the sink or drainboard, no more succulents on the windowsill. Seeing it all empty made him remember that you were just renting this place anyway, that you could pack up and leave whenever you wanted. And now you were. Then the hurt and anger swelled up in his chest again.

“Why?” he asked.

You let out a hollow laugh, raking your fingernails along your scalp before letting your arms fall back to your sides again. “You’re really asking me that? This…this town is fucked, Angel. You know that. I know you’ve been waist-deep in your shit with the club but…but that’s the exact type of shit I’m talking about.”

“This town’s always been fucked, querida,” he tried to argue, tried to pepper in a pet name like it would change anything. “What’s so different now?”

The answer to that question made bile creep up your throat. You didn’t think that you could say it to him. Not the real answer, the raw unedited cut of it. “Everything,” you answered, a shake to your voice that was never there when you talked to him.

“C’mon,” he said, tone softer than it had been this entire time as he stepped in towards you. “Don’t leave me like this. Don’t do this to me.”

“This isn’t just about you.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. He put his hands on your hips, pulling himself closer to you. His voice dropped to something just above a whisper. “After all the shit we—”

“We?” you cut him off, not yelling but your tone cutting nonetheless. “We? You’re choosing now to start throwing that word around?”

His brows came together, offended and confused. “What’re you talkin’ about? It’s always been us.”

You laughed, a cruel sound as tears prickled along your waterline again. “Oh, has it? It’s always been us?”

“Yeah, what’re you—”

“It’s never been us, Angel. Never. It’s been you, chasing around every girl who stumbles into that clubhouse and then running back to me when you get bored of them. It’s been you going out being reckless with the club and then coming to me when you need someone to patch you up, someone to tell you that you’re right and they’re all wrong. It’s been you coming to me whenever it’s fucking convenient for you.” You pushed him away, a half-hearted shove. “And it’s been me fucking letting you.”

“I—”

“And I would’ve been fine still doing that. You know that? Fucking sad, but I would’ve done it. Would’ve just kept right on pretending that it was enough, or that it was going to change. But then—” you stopped short, still not able to spit the words out. “I just can’t do it anymore, Angel.”

Despite Angel’s lack of ability to really commit, to really let himself be with you in the way that you really wanted, he’d always done his best with what little he had for you. Over the years he’d been your shoulder to cry on, his flannels becoming tissues for you. He’d set you loose in the scrapyard when your anger bubbled up so much that you needed to break something because it was the only alternative you had to hurting yourself or someone else—even gave you the gloves and safety glasses to do it the right way. He’d kept the other side of your bed warm when you were both feeling lonely, making the lines defining what you two were really start to blur.

He’d been there with you through all of that and yet he hadn’t ever seen the emotion saturating your expression now. He’d never seen you so afraid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, fists clenched as tightly as you could manage. Your leg bounced no matter how much you tried to will it to stop. He’d never seen you like this. How had it gotten so bad?

He stepped in close to you again. Placing his hands on the outsides of your arms, he gave you a light, reassuring squeeze. “What’s got you so scared?”

You shook your head, staring down at the floor because you couldn’t make yourself look at him. “I can’t.”

“What?”

“I can’t stay here. I can’t be comfortable here. I’m not…I’m not safe here.”

He brought one hand up to cup the side of your face. His thumb traced gently along your cheek in a way that made your bottom lip tremble. “I’ll always keep you safe, querida. You know that.”

He sounded so earnest but you knew too much now to be able to believe it. You’d tried. God, you had tried so hard to buy into that the last few weeks but you just couldn’t fool yourself. “I don’t.”

“What the fuck happened?”

Tears finally made their way to your cheeks, racing along the lines of Angel’s hand as it remained holding your face. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t even want to think about it, but it’s all that was playing through your mind. Truthfully, it was the thing that had been playing through your mind every day since it had happened.

You could still hear it so vividly, the sound of him pounding on the door to your house. It hadn’t been his bike engine that woke you up, it was his aggressively frantic knocking on your front door. Looking back you were surprised that he hadn’t slammed it clean off its hinges. You were also surprised that you hadn’t tripped and fallen half a dozen times on your way to the front door from your bedroom because your eyes weren’t fully open and you weren’t anywhere close to fully awake.

“Alright, alright!” you half-shouted from your side of the door. You dumbly fiddled with the locks until they came undone.

Angel practically threw himself through the door. He was haphazardly grabbing for you, leaving for you to try and untangle yourself from his long limbs just to be able to close and lock the door again. You’d hardly heard the click of the lock and he was pulling you tight to him. He had his arms wrapped around you in such a way that you couldn’t even effectively hug him back. You just pressed your cheek against his hoodie, helpless to do anything else.

“Talk to me,” you said, managing to free one of your arms so that you could do your best to return his embrace.

He mumbled something into your shoulder, words that you couldn’t make out. He finally pulled back away from you, far enough so that you could see his face, the smears of blood that disappeared into the coarse hairs of his beard.

“It’s all my fault,” the words fell from his lips, raspy and choked as he repeated the sentence over and over again. “It’s all my fault. I, it’s all my fuckin’ fault.”

“What’s your fault, Angel?”

The sound of you saying his name got him to look at you, tears in his eyes and worry creasing his brow deeper than you thought was possible. His stare was so sad, so intense it had you pinned to the spot. Even when he pulled away from you, you felt like you couldn’t step in close to him again, feet glued to the floor. That was when you saw it, though, all the blood standing his palms and fingers.

You swallowed hard, what little exhaustion had still been clinging to you completely froze away. “Angel, talk to me. What happened?”

He looked down at his hands and then back at you. he knew what you were seeing, could only imagine what you were thinking. “I didn’t—it wasn’t supposed to go down like that. I tried to save her but I couldn’t…”

You finally forced yourself to move. You collapsed the distance he’d put between you. “Who?”

“Gaby,” he forced out, shaking his head in disbelief as he did.

Fear shot down your spine. “What?”

“It’s all my fault,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have—I tried to—fuck,” his voice cracked and he gave up on trying to say anything else.

You had wanted more answers in the moment, but back then you hadn’t been able to ask for them. Instead you cleaned him up. You threw his clothes in the wash. You let him slip underneath the covers next to you and keep you wrapped up so tightly for what little was left of the night that you couldn’t even fall back to sleep. The next morning he was still there, eyes hollow as he made a pot of coffee in your kitchen. That morning he was standing almost exactly where he was standing right in front of you now.

Forcing yourself to stay in the present, you finally said, “You know what happened.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Everyone’s fuckin’ dying, Angel. I, I don’t wanna be next.”

“Hey, come on now. You know I’d never let that shit happen to you.”

You scoffed, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “I’m sure that’s what EZ told Gaby, too.”

Angel flinched at that, immediately deflating. You had never brought it up again after that night. Neither did he. Weeks went by and the two of you seemingly went back to normal, like that entire night had never happened. But it did happen. Gaby was dead—that part you knew. What you didn’t know, what Angel hadn’t told you, was that EZ was the one who had killed her. Angel blamed himself, especially after EZ had told him what his final conversation with Gaby had been, why he had decided it was the only thing to do. Angel was carrying around all that guilt but he hadn’t been the one who pulled the trigger. That was all EZ. That was all the guy who had promised to keep Gaby safe.

His voice was a whisper as he spoke, like he didn’t even fully believe himself. “This ain’t like that, though.”

“But it is,” you said, voice shaking. “Or it will be. That’s what this town, this world,” you rested your hand on the flash stitched into his kutte as you said it, “does. I can’t keep feeling like I’m on borrowed time.”

He sniffled, trying to stuff his emotions back down where he used to keep them so comfortably. “So you’re just gonna leave, then? Run away?”

You knew he wanted an argument. Being angry was so fucking easy. You didn’t want to give into it. “If it keeps me alive, then yes. I lo—” you stopped and switched course, “I care about you, Angel. But I’m not looking to die for anyone. I’m not…I’m not made for this.”

He was holding your face with both hands now, palms that just a few weeks before had been coated with blood. “Don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“Come with me.” It was your final offer, one you hadn’t planned on extending until the words were tumbling out.

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

“Come with me.” You rested your hands on top of his. “Get out and away from all this shit. We’ll start over.”

“It ain’t that simple.”

You threaded your fingers with his. “It is. Pack up your shit and throw it in my truck. And we’ll leave. That simple.”

He pulled his hands away from yours, stepping back from you again. Shaking his head, he brushed his hand quickly across his eyes—erasing any hint of tears and emotion that had been there until then. “I’m not running just ‘cause you are.”

“Maybe you should. Or maybe,” you shrugged helplessly, “maybe it was never about me—not for you, anyway.”

That gave him pause. He tried to get his expression to harden, give that tough, neutral gaze, but he couldn’t get it quite right. “I shouldn’t’a come here.” He shook his head. “Should’a let you run off with no goodbye the way you wanted.”

“Angel—”

He took another step back, getting himself closer and closer to your front door one stride at a time. “Go ahead, then. Get the fuck out—away from this town, away from me. Fuckin’…fuckin’ go.”

He turned on his heel and kept walking. It took a few seconds to will your feet to move, to go after him. Even with his long strides you were able to catch up before he reached the door.

“Angel.” You stepped in front of him. “Stop.”

You saw the mist in his eyes. Still, he tried to keep his voice sharp. “You’re leaving. No point in me staying here to watch you pack up the rest of your shit.”

You opened your mouth to try and say something else, try to conjure up something that would get him to change his mind. He didn’t let you. Pushing past you, he ripped open your door and stormed out of the house. Maybe it was just as well—it wasn’t as though you were going to come up with a magical string of words to get him to leave with you. Still, the impact of his shoulder slamming against yours hurt far more on an emotional level than it did on a physical one.

Turning, you went out onto the step. Your lip began to quiver as you watched him throw his leg over his bike and get ready to peel off. The sound of the engine seemed deafening, and you wonder how it hadn’t woken you on that night weeks ago. Then it got quieter the farther he rode. Then it was silent again. And all you could do was walk back inside to get the next box, leaving the door open behind you.

Angel Reyes Taglist (If you want to be added to any of my taglits, please let me know!): @withmyteeth @garbinge @darqchilddaydreamz @narcolini @justreblogginfics

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#mayans mc #mayans #mayansmc #mayans fx #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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happysoldlady · 4 months

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Ok so what if Angel had a wife/gf who’s graduating college for whatever (you can pick) and everyone is there and he’s so proud of her because she put her life on hold because they became parents young and she had to take care of the kid

a/n: I almost wrote the graduating party at the clubhouse too lol! please enjoy!

You and Angel had been together for several years. The first year was mainly just the two of you trying to figure out how to co-exist. And the other four had been spent raising the tiny human the two of you made. Being a parent was one of the most rewarding experiences of your life and that experience was ongoing. But bringing a human into the world had halted the plans you had for yourself. Angel was as supportive as he could be, but club business overruled everything and eventually, you had to drop out of school to care for your child. It was only a year and a half ago that you were able to finally go back, with the help of your lovely father in law of course. And today, you finally graduated.

The university gymnasium is packed with teary eyed families and lined with thousands of graduation caps all belonging to hopeful entrepreneurs. You were slightly older than most of the graduates, your life experience calming your nerves. This was just walking across a stage. Nothing compared to the shoot-outs that so often occurred at club parties. And even as this thought crossed your mind, your hands started sweating a little bit the closer you got to the stage. Your eyes dart through the rows of proud families, scanning for a particular set of brown eyes to calm your nerves. You are three graduates from the stage when you finally find them. There, in the middle, is Angel, Felipe, and EZ. Angel is holding your kid up so they can wave from the stands. You give them a watery grin, and a small wave, and then turn to focus on walking across the stage.

——

“Gracias, señor.” You giggle as Felipe hands you a bouquet of flowers. You step into his arms and plant a kiss on his cheek that leaves his cheeks a little pink. Then, EZ pulls you into a tight hug. His face is shadowed, though, and you remind yourself to explore it with him later.

“Mommy!” Your child runs up, wrapping little arms around your legs. You squat down to give them a tight hug and then stand, immediately stepping into Angel’s arms as EZ takes the reins of your four-year old.

“Congratulations.” Angel mumbles into your hair, planting a kiss to your head before nuzzling his face in the crook your neck. Your arms tighten around him and the emotions of what you’ve accomplished nearly overwhelm you. “I’ve never been so proud of someone in my life.”

You let out a choked sob and bury your face into his chest. To hell with your makeup, you’re a fucking college graduate!

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

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dallianceangel · 2 months

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𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 💔😭

Here’s another drabble for you, a sad one at that. 💔

💔 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💔

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Angel asks, feeling physically sick. He knew you and him had reached the end of the road ages ago, but he never imagined the man you’d leave him for would be a fellow Mayan.

“Yes,” you reply, warm tears streaming down your face.

You’re expecting Angel to launch at him, but all he does is turn around and storm out of the clubhouse.

“He’ll never forgive us,” You sigh, hearing him start up his bike before riding away.

Bishop pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against yours.

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kikijackson-blog · 3 months

Text

Where You At?

Summary: You and Angel break up.

Warnings:

For Readers 18+ only

Language

Here’s another that I took inspiration from a Lana Del Rey song called Let The Light In. The inspiration was from a single line “at your back door yelling cuz I wanna come in”

Hope you enjoy.

Two weeks. Two long agonizing weeks since you and your boyfriend had broken up. He wasn’t really your boyfriend but it was still a break up of sorts. You counted each day, every hour, every minute, every second, and they all felt like eternity. It may have been partly your fault but he had some blame in this too. Regardless, it didn’t make a difference, the pain was still the same and you miss him terribly. You’d hurt him and you knew it. It wasn’t intentional or malicious, a lack of communication mostly. You hadn’t meant to sleep with other men. Well you had but you hadn't thought of it as cheating. You still thought you were single and just ‘friends’. You had no idea he was wanting more. To be honest you didn’t even know he was your boyfriend, Angel never gave off the girl-friend having kind of vibe. But he was crushed when he saw you at a club that night, your body draped over some random guy, grinding on him with his tongue down your throat and his hand squeezing at your bottom.

The hurt look on his face only lasted a few seconds, it was quickly replaced with another expression, a more dangerous one. Anger. He marched up to you ignoring everyone else in his path, his cold eyes only focused on you and where the son of a bitch had his hand. Angel pulled you off of him.

“Hey man, leave her alone.” Your new friend protested.

“Shut the fuck up,” Angel stepped up to him, their faces only a small breath away. Spit flying out of the Mayans mouth and you could have sworn you saw it land damn near that man’s eye.

“Ain’t your fuckin’ business.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the club.

“Get in.” He demanded in the parking lot and he unlocked the door and held it open for you. When you hesitated he grabbed your arm and forced you into his car.

“You know I didn’t believe it when Coco called me and told me you were here giving some dude a lap dance, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at you once he was in the car with you.

“Un-fuckin-believable.” You’d heard him angry like this before but he’d never used this voice on you before.

“Coco’s got a big mouth!” you had to wanted say to him but figured in such a confined space and driving fast as he was, probably not a good idea to fan the fire. Of course he would tell him. His loyalty was to Angel, not you. You were nothing to him but some chick.

You were damn near out the door as soon as you pull up to your driveway. Not bothering to look back at him but then you didn’t need to look back to know he was following you. You heard his heavy footsteps loud and clear. You make quick work of the lock and get in as fast as you can, opening the door only wide enough so you could slip in and slam the door shut in his face but he didn’t let you. He blocked the door with his foot, preventing you from shutting it.

“Nah, nah, nah. That ain’t how this is gonna go y/n.” He said as he walked in, overtaking you space with his body, you took several steps back.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ explain this shit to me.” You avoid looking at his eyes. “You embarrassed me in front of my brothers. Seeing my girl on some other fucker like that, do you know what that feels like? You made me look like a pendejo!”

“Who the fuck was he, anyway?” Angel demanded.

Feeling just a little ashamed of yourself you look down, “I don’t know.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me. No, it looked like you knew him very well.”

“I just met him, Angel!”

“You just met him?” He closed in on you and desperate to keep your distance from him you kept inching away from him until he had you backed up against the wall. There was nowhere to go now.

His face inches away from you.

“And you let him touch you like that?” The crack in his voice is what caught your attention to something more.

For the first time since he had caught you with this guy, you looked him in the eyes and reflected in them was the same thing you were now feeling in your heart. And you couldn’t bear to see it. In that moment you would have given everything to make it go away, to replace the storm within his eyes with something warmer and lighter.

“Like you let me touch you?” That one statement, as tiny as it was, said a lot.

“Angel.” You said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“You let him touch what’s mine, y/n! Why?” He sounded like a sweet innocent child asking why his best pet died.

“I didn’t know, I thought we were just friends, I had no idea we… were together.”

“Yeah well you don’t have to worry about that cause we’re not anymore.”

The following couple of days you had tried to reach out to him, hoping that once emotions calmed down the two of you could talk more rationally about this but nothing. He didn’t return any of your calls and your texts were all left on read.

Angel wasn’t doing any better, he sat at the bar all broody like. Some of the guys looked at him and rolled their eyes. Some laughed at how he was acting like a big pouty giant baby, but underneath it they felt his pain. Everyone was just too afraid to address it, but not Coco. He didn’t give a fuck, he was tired of it.

“Man, either talk to her or get over it already.” Coco sat in the seat next to him. Yeah, he’d had enough of Angel’s pity party bullshit. “But whatever you do just fuckin’ do something man.”

The ding of an incoming text made Angel jump from his seat, and Coco nearly choked on his beer. “That her?’ He asked.

“Angel, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was anything more to you than just some casual fun. If I had known, things would have gone differently. I swear it. Please talk to me.”

Coco stole a quick glance at the text, “Look, it was fucked right, I get it, you don’t wanna see your girl on another man’s lap but she gotta point, how you gonna expect loyalty when you ain’t never did nothing to make her feel like she was more than just a fuck.”

Usually Angel paid no mind to anything his slender crazy-eyed friend had to say but he had his moments. Sometimes he actually made sense.

Angel flew out of his seat and ran out the door.

“Goddamn, finally, fuuuck.” Coco muttered under his breath.

He raced to your house once there he ran up to your doorstep and pounded on the door once, twice, nothing. He heard no sound or movement. Determined and not ready to give up now that he realized how foolish he’d been and how much he still wanted you, there was nothing that was going to stop him now. He ran out to the back and pounded on that door as well. Still he was met with nothing but silence.

Finally after weeks of radio silence you get a text message from Angel.

“Where r u?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at ur back door yelling.”

“You at my house? Wait, why are you yelling?”

“Cuz I wanna come in! Look I’m sry I was a huge douche. Where r u?”

“I’m at your house, stupid”

“Wait there,baby, plz.”

#angel reyes x you #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader

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