#Che Romero

[bullet-prooflove]

This road never looked so lonely

Ben can’t stand the way that Taza leaves in the middle of the night. The fact he slips out of the sheets in the aftermath of their love making, pulling on his clothes layer by layer before he disappears out of the door.

He finds himself lying on his back, his arm slung over his eyes. He can’t stand to look at Taza right now to see the hunch of his shoulders, the way he keeps his head bowed low. He knows what shame looks like; he sees how the other man carries it.

There’s an ache in Ben’s chest, a deep emotional anguish that he tears at his soul. He’s done this before, he’s been another man’s secret and he knows it’s a slow death, an agonising bleed that drains the life right out of you. He can’t do that again.

It’s when Taza reaches the door, his hand grasping the handle that Ben finally speaks.

“I’m done.” He says into the darkness, his eyes stinging. “I can’t be your secret anymore. I’m fucking done.”

@kmc1989 @drabbles-mc @ficnation @keyweegirlie @aconfusedidentity

#taza romero #taza x ben #che romero #che taza romero #taza mayans #mayans mc

[drabbles-mc]

Degrees of Separation: Chapter Index

Taza Romero x M!Reader

Summary: You transferred out of Yuma and into Santo Padre in a last-ditch attempt to outrun old ghosts and old problems. The small charter, located in an even smaller border-town, seemed like the perfect place to try and shake off everything that had happened to you so that you could start over. You were ready to live with your old secrets. But the deeper you get into the charter, the more you realize you may have simply traded in your old secrets for new ones, and this time you wouldn't be going down for them alone.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #taza romero #che romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero x you #degrees of separation #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #x reader #x reader fic

[mayans-mc]

Mayans MC gif meme → 6 characters [1/6]: Che 'Taza' Romero __________________________ ... I was in love. And I'm not ashamed about that. Or what I've done since. All that I've caused. I needed Palo to pay. I didn't know so many would get hurt. And now I'm afraid that it's not over. I'm tired, Bish. Fսcking tired. I love you, brother. Do what you have to do.

#Mayans MC #mayansedit #taza #che romero #raoul trujillo #mayans mc gif meme #mine #my edits #please tumblr let me post this

[myckicade]

Back Home - Chapter One

Summary: You and Che had been so happy. Everything had almost seemed perfect. You hadn't counted on the bastard up and leaving you. Che's return is even less expected. You've carried on, rebuilt your life, and are enjoying where you're at. It's going to be a fight to see whether Che can fit back into the space he used to occupy, if that space still exists, at all.

A/N: C’mon, now, y’all… You know I couldn't pass this up, series end, or not. I wanted to get two others up first, but, as usual, this one just would not leave me alone! Contains spoilers up until... Well. This is the end of the road, so spoilers for the whole series!

P.S. SPOILERS: I’ve had to fuck about with the timeline a bit, as I have no idea whether Taza’s absence lasted five minutes, or ten years. This show is wonky, that way. 

Teaser: It’s been a long time since you’ve found yourself speechless, but here you stand, speechless, and lost, and half-scared of something that doesn’t even exist. 

* 

This can’t be real, you tell yourself, the words shaping and forming and dying in your head before they can reach your lips. Your numb, trembling lips. All of you feels like it’s trembling. The cool breeze blowing in from the open door has little to do with the shiver working its way over your skin, much as you’d like to give it the credit right now. You know your face looks like you’ve seen a ghost. It has to. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to scream, or speak, or even sputter out a single sound. It’s been a long time since you’ve found yourself speechless, but here you stand, speechless, and lost, and half-scared of something that doesn’t even exist. 

Yet, it does. It exists in the shape of six-odd feet of handsome, half-slouching, complete asshole of a man standing on your front steps. The two of you have been staring at one another for entirely too long, since the moment he showed his face, and spoke your name. It was – and still is – pathetic, how easily the sound of his voice made you weak in the knees. 

Oh, this asshole. 

“How’d you get this address?” comes flying out of your mouth so suddenly, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re actually the one who said it. You watch as Che, seemingly just as startled as you, shifts on his feet. 

“I went by your old apartment,” he admits, finally breaking eye contact to glance down at his boots. “New tenant seemed to know you? She told me where you’d moved to.” 

“Fucking Diane,” you sigh, glancing over Che’s head to take in a quick glimpse of the stars. You have a fabulous view of the night sky from here, much better than you ever could have hoped for at your apartment. He’s never seen this, you consider. Not from here. Not like he was supposed to. Che moves, barely a step to the side, bringing your attention back to him. “It’s been a year, Che.” Your tone is firm, probably a little harder than is strictly necessary, but you’ve practiced this. Sure, you may never have expected to see this rotten motherfucker ever again, but you’ve prepared yourself for the scant possibility that you’d one day get the chance to toss him back out on his ass. 

The nerve. The fucking balls this bastard has, right now. 

Che blows out a breath. “I know,” he agrees, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. His eyes are on you once more, a hesitance in them that shines against the light of the porch. You wait a beat, then two, and by five it’s clear he isn’t going to continue. 

“That’s it?” you scoff. “You know?” 

“I can leave, if you’d like?” It’s a genuine offer, you can tell. It’s not a threat. There’s no intentional manipulation in the letters. But then, there wouldn’t be. Che’s never been that type of man, certainly not to you. He’s honest, and decent, and devoted, and you need to stop before you remember every reason why you love him. 

Before you lose sight of every reason to choke him with your bare hands and start caving into every desire you still have to wrap your arms around him, and never let him go. 

Fuck. Angel is right. You’ve gotta’ get out of that book club. 

Focusing back in on the matter at-hand (so to speak), you have two options before you. This is a man you haven’t heard from in more than a year. So much has changed. You’ve changed. He surely has, as well. It’s probably a bad, bad idea to do anything other than turn him away. 

On the other hand… Well… You’ve missed him so damned much, and the idea of watching him drive away for good – again – already has your eyes welling up with tears. Fuck, you really can’t do it, can you? How fucking pathetic. You need, need, need to stick to your guns. Tell him he’s lost his chance. Tell him things are different now. Anything, anything to make sure you don’t weaken in the face of this choice. 

But… Aside from this, this one big, huge thing, he’s never done a damned thing to upset you. To hurt you. The two of you have always played it straight in your relationship, all the cards on the table, full-tilt, no stops, feel free to pass GO! and keep on driving. You’ve thought about this more than once (twice, ten times and better), wondered exactly what in the world could have been so bad, so terrible, that Che had felt the need to run, instead of facing it head-on with you. Stepping out on you has crossed your mind. A late-in-life crisis of some kind. And the ugly possibility that you’ve never really known the man you’ve been in love with. For all you know, Che wants to tell you about the secret family he’s been keeping in Modesto. Wife and kids. Husband and kids. Do you really want to know? 

Glancing up, you find Che shifting around again, two seconds from backing off the steps, and down the driveway to his bike. Whether on impulse, or by some crazy ass design, you make your decision. “Sit down,” you instruct, pointing to a patio table and two chairs set up at the corner of the porch. “I’ll be right back.” He nods, clearly surprised, all over again. You nod once, yourself, before disappearing into the kitchen. 

What are you doing? 

Reaching into the refrigerator, you retrieve two cold beers. You have the feeling you’re going to need one. 

What the fuck are you doing, (y/n)? 

You turn back from the door and pause. Would liquor be more suitable for this conversation? Might send the signal that this meeting is far more friendly than it has right to be. Giving Che false hope is something you would rather avoid, and a night of drinking liquor has never not led you two to the bedroom. 

Decisions, decisions. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, at all. No good can possibly come from it. Who’s to say the man outside is even looking for signs of hope? Two minutes ago, he was ready to ride off into the night, no questions asked. Can’t be he’s really too eager to apologize, right? He had that chance, and all you got was, I know. The fuck are you supposed to do with that? 

Groaning, you shift both beers to the bend of your left arm and retrieve a bottle of Jose Cuervo from the cupboard with your right hand. It takes some maneuvering, but you finally make your way back out to the porch, balancing the beers, the liquor, and two shot glasses in your arms. Che immediately jumps up from his seat to help you, relieving you of the bottle and glasses, and you find yourself thanking him, as always. 

“Thanks, babe.” 

“Welcome, doll.” 

Neither of you seem to know what to say for a hot second, staring at one another from across the table like two deer caught in cross traffic. You can feel your face growing warm, thankful for the dim glow of the Christmas lights you’ve left strung on the porch since early last November. They’re clear, warm and cool shades of white, with the ability to twinkle, and flash, and induce seizures on the right settings. Angel keeps telling you to take them down. (”It’s July, for fuck’s sake!”). Che has yet to comment on them, but you know he has already formed an opinion, which likely mirrors Angel’s, but with kinder, more considerate wording. 

Clearing your throat, you take the seat closest to the door, where Che has chosen to box himself into a corner. He can hop the railing if he needs to make a clean getaway, but strategically speaking, it’s not the smartest move he’s ever made. Still, you pass him a beer, before setting up the shot glasses. Che reaches for the tequila and pours you each a shot. Smooth. Simple. Familiar. Something clenches in your chest. 

“So,” Che begins, lifting up his glass. He looks your way, expectantly, until you do the same. He gives you an awkward half-smile, before you both down your shots. Fuck. It’s good stuff, but that first one tends to hit you where you live. “How have you been?” 

Really? That’s his starter? 

And, wow, it seems like you aren’t going to like any of his attempts tonight, huh? 

Cracking open the can in front of you, you shrug. “Busy, I guess?” Another shrug quickly follows the first. “Had a lot on my plate, for a while. Opening the new store. Buying the house.” 

Che thumbs at the lip of his can, not yet opening it. “I heard about that. Finally went ahead with it, huh?” 

“I did,” you reply, around a sip of Labatt. “Brick and mortar, this time. No more working out of the apartment or driving around town making deliveries.” You look over and find a warm smile waiting for you. 

“I’m proud of you,” Che murmurs, all sincerity and happiness. It’s your stomach’s turn to get all fluttery. “That’s awesome.” 

Darting your attention elsewhere, you quickly down another mouthful of beer. It’s too familiar. You’ve said far too much. “How about you?” you ask, upon swallowing. You’re not looking his way. You can’t. This is already going all wrong. “Been up to anything fun?” Silence reigns for a moment. It’s unsettling, but you manage to bring yourself to look up again. Che is staring at you, all traces of his smile gone. In its place, an expression you cannot name. It’s almost sad, but not quite. A touch guilty, but not completely. You don’t like it, this look he’s sending your way, panic seizing you enough to blurt out, “I see you’ve cut your hair, again.” 

“Don’t do that,” Che replies, almost immediately. His tone catches you by surprise, so low and serious you feel another shiver building at the base of your spine. 

“Don’t do what?” 

Che blinks, just once. “Don’t try to act like everything’s okay,” he continues. “We both know it isn’t.” That shiver climbs a little higher. True and fair though that is, it’s the only way you’re going to get through this. Cool indifference, at its finest. “While I appreciate not being greeted with a toaster upside the head, I don’t appreciate the passive attitude.” 

Damn. Talk about caught. 

“Got rid of the toaster,” you mumble after a moment, brushing imaginary debris from your pant leg. “I’m up to an air fryer now.” A laugh breaks free from Che’s mouth, and you fight the smile creeping across your lips in response. You’ve missed that sound so damned much. 

You’ve missed him so damned much. The way he talks, low and smooth like the finest honey. The way he looks at you, heart in his eyes, like you mean the world to him, ten times over. You never expected to lay eyes on him again, let alone to have the chance to spill out everything you’ve spent endless hours grumbling about to yourself. Practicing in your head. The ugly words you’ve wanted to throw at him, and the calm manner in which you’ve wanted to deliver them. Now is that chance, and... 

And the words won’t jump off your tongue. 

“You’re allowed to be pissed,” Che continues, unknowingly encouraging you toward letting him have it with both barrels. “Hell, I’d be shocked if you weren’t.” 

You sigh, deep and heavy. “I didn’t know what to be, for a while,” you admit, fiddling with the various rings on your fingers. Your right thumb brushes over the circle of silver on your left index finger. A medium sized band, with citrine stones embedded in the surface, and engraved, Love, Che. Even after everything, you haven’t found it in yourself to take it off. Tuck it away somewhere. Toss is out. You should have. You’d still have every right to do it, too. You just... 

Can’t. 

The silence must be getting to him, because Che is suddenly asking, “How are the kids?” Oh, boy. Now, here is where you’d really enjoy giving the man what for. Your poor babies. You could keep your calm for what you have been through, yourself, but your babies? You’ve been silent too long, again, it seems, from Che’s worried call of “(Y/n)? Are they okay?” 

“Flint looked for you, every damned day.” There. Now it’s out in the open. You catch Che’s flinch from the corner of your eye, a smug sense of satisfaction coming over you at the sight. “It was a fight to get him to eat for about a week, he was so upset.” Flint, your old boy, had become Che’s little buddy over your time together. They’d go for rides in the truck together. Have naps on the couch like the two grandpas you’d joked they were. Walk together. Eat together, as far as Che sharing food from his plate. While your dogs are hardly Che’s responsibility, watching Flint suffer through that pain still sits with you like an open wound. Even now, the tears are gathering at your eyes. 

“I never meant to-” 

“Max destroyed some of your clothes,” you interrupt, not wanting to hear his bullshit until you’re done. If your feelings don’t come out now, they never will. “Two pair of pants, some socks, and your brown boots.” You pause, clearing your throat. “Wasn’t a full day after you’d gone. I think she knew.” 

Che grimaces. “Girl always liked to tear my shit apart.” He sighs. “Not that I blame her.” 

“I don’t, either.” You shrug. “I had enough respect for you not to go batshit on the stuff you left behind, and I packed everything away after I caught Max in the act, but the temptation existed.” Reaching out, you pour another shot of tequila for Che, and one for yourself, which you promptly swallow. He doesn’t touch his. “You left just about everything, too, I know you realize.” 

“Kinda’ hard to cram my life in a backpack and saddlebags.” He leans forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, hands folded together in front of his face. He’s quiet for a moment, before bowing his head. “You know... I don’t wanna’ sit here and make excuses, and I’m not going to. I know what I did, and it was a dick move, and telling you ‘I’m sorry’ just isn’t gonna’ cut it.” 

Finally, you fully look at the man beside you. It’s the first time he’s said those words tonight, even if they were only uttered to make a point. He’s right. No apology is going to cut it, not now. Words are just fucking words, something you’ve had to come to grips with over the last year. Actions are what matter, isn’t that what you two have always agreed on? He took off. Up and left you holding the bag on so much emotional shit, you’re still digging out from the avalanche. 

But... He’s here now. That’s action, too. How much does that count for? 

Shaking your head, a bit, you try to focus back in. Too many questions, too many possibilities, and too much familiarity are invading your mind. There is something far more pressing to begin with, prompting you to turn your body in your chair, so that you can give Che your full attention. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

Che looks at you for a moment, relief in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmurs, before nudging the tequila bottle closer to you. “You’re gonna’ want more of that while I do.” 

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#Che Taza Romero #Taza Romero #Che Romero #Che x Reader #Taza x Reader #Taza Romero x Reader #Che Romero x Reader #Che Taza Romero x Reader #Mayans MC #Mayans #Mayans M.C. #Mayans M.C. Spoilers #Mayans Spoilers #Mayans MC Spoilers #Mayans MC Fanfiction #Mayans MC Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fanfic

[abbatoirablaze]

Living Off The Land, Taza

Word Count:  452

Warnings:  none really.

Taza sat on an old tree stump, watching as you absorbed the wilderness around you, admiring the little things; like how the sun was setting amidst the desert, or how he found the spot that you two were camped out at.  You looked wondrously at every little thing.  He smiled as you asked about the flowers, or small plants that somehow managed to thrive in the Californian desert. 

“Little flower, you are very curious,” he chuckled, taking a drag on his cigarette, “this really is like a camping trip to you, isn’t it?”

Your smile lit up his world, sending shocks through every fiber of his being, “is that such a bad thing?  You’re teaching me to live off the grid with you, right?”

“That I am.”

“Then let us live!”

His heart warmed as you stalked towards him, before finally landing on his lap.  His arms wrapped protectively around you, and you gazed down towards the fire that started to light up the surrounding area while the sun began to set. 

You were sucked into the call of the nature, and he didn’t want to bother you, but the frown that peaked onto your lips made his heart whimper.  He began to rock the two of you gently, humming a song that he remembered from his childhood.  Your frown settled on your face, and he could see that you were lost in your thoughts.

You glared at the flames.

“What is wrong, little flower?”

“It’s nothing…I just…”

“Look at me, my love,” he asked softly, “tell me that while looking at me.”

Your attention turned towards him with razor speed and accuracy.  He frowned when he noticed your eyes glossy with tears, “what if he changes his mind, Taza?”

This time it was his turn to frown, “Bishop wouldn’t change his mind, sweetheart.  We got nothing to worry about.  We’re living off the land for a reason.  He gave me his word that we would be left alone.”

Your hand stroked his cheek, and you felt a tugging in your chest, “but what if he does break his word?  You’re done with the club.  You’re done fighting.  Do you even have a gun anymore?”

He shook his head, “I don’t need a gun to kill, little flower.  But this is all stuff that you shouldn’t concern yourself with.  We’ll be fine...”

“But how do you know that?”

“I just do,” he said simply, his arms tightening around your waist.  Your eyes met again when he saw the slightest bump in your shirt.  His grip loosened and his hand rubbed over your stomach, “trust me…I won’t let anyone hurt my little flowers.   I would protect the two of you with my life.”

#mayans #mayans mc #mayans fx #taza #taza romero #che romero #motorcycle #motorcycle clubs #mc

[tulijaa]

#Mayans MC #obispo losa #bishop losa #taza romero #che romero #michael irby

[mysoulisasunflower]

✨Best Idea Ever✨

Mayans MC | 1.4 "Bat/Zotz"

#I fucking love Taza’s reaction #he already knows it’s a shitty idea but he wants to have fun 🤣 #che taza romero #taza romero #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #raoul trujillo #jd pardo #mayans mc #mayans #mayans fx #gif #my post

[broiderie]

Curiosity...

Alright Mayans M.C. fans. Here's my question. Who do you think is the worst villain in the show? Which person just... pisses you off by coming on screen. I know mine. Just wondering how close I am with everyone else's ideas.

#mayans mc #che taza romero #hank loza #marcus alvarez #angel reyes #ez reyes #neron creeper vargas #creeper #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz #gilly lopez #gilly mayans #bishop losa #michael ariza #miguel galindo #mayans fx #mayans

[dallianceangel]

𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 😭👻

I might make this into a longer fic, so let me know if that's something you'd like to read. 💗

🎄 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🎄

“We need to get out of here, and fast.”

You look at Taza in confusion as he snatches the cloth and disinfectant spray from you, guiding you out of the clubhouse, under the cover of darkness. This isn't the time for asking questions, but that doesn't stop you.

“Just tell me what's going on, Che!”

Taza covers your mouth with his hand, not wanting your cover to be blown, but it's too late. He's heard you, and seen you.

“Baby girl?”

Happy can't believe his eyes. He thought you were dead. He attended your funeral, he carried your coffin. None of this makes sense.

#sons of anarchy #mayans mc #happy lowman #david labrava #soa #fanfiction #txt #fanfic #drabbles #drabble #happy lowman imagines #che taza romero #taza romero #writer #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr

[sonhosquebrados]

Raoul Max Trujillo 😍

#raoul max trujillo #taza romero #che taza romero #mayans mc

[bullet-prooflove]

Ben - Che 'Taza' Romero (Drabble)

Tagging: @ficnation @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

Taza’s in love.

He’s in love with a man called Ben Harrison who works at the community centre as an LGBT counsellor. He knows it’s wrong, that it’s against everything the M.C stands for but he just can’t seem to stop himself.

It’s been twenty-five years since David’s death, since he’s felt the touch of another man. He never thought he’d fall in love again but then Ben had appeared in his life.

Ben with the kind smile and eyes that Taza has just spent hours getting lost in.

Ben whose spends his days helping kids in crisis, building up their confidence and encouraging them to be who they were meant to be.

Ben who is so unapologetically himself that Taza couldn’t help but fall head over heels for the other man.

Beside him Ben stirs, his bare legs entangling with Taza’s as his arm drapes across his chest drawing him closer. His lips ghost over the back of Taza’s neck and it’s a blissful sensation, one that makes him feel safe in a world that has taught him otherwise.

“Don’t leave tonight.” Ben whispers against his skin, his voice gruff from sleep.

Every impulse in Taza is telling him to run, to leave this situation because if any one of his brothers finds out he’s done but his heart outweighs his head, and he finds his fingers entwining with Ben’s as he places the other man’s palm against his heart.

“I’ll stay for a while.” He tells Ben, settling back into the comfort of the other man’s arms. “Just a little while.”

Love Taza? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#che taza romero #taza romero #raoul max trujillo #raoul trujillo #che romero

[drabbles-mc]

Degrees of Separation (3)

Taza Romero x M!Reader

Summary: You transferred out of Yuma and into Santo Padre in a last-ditch attempt to outrun old ghosts and old problems. The small charter, located in an even smaller border-town, seemed like the perfect place to try and shake off everything that had happened to you so that you could start over. You were ready to live with your old secrets. But the deeper you get into the charter, the more you realize you may have simply traded in your old secrets for new ones, and this time you wouldn't be going down for them alone.

Chapter Index

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I realize it had been approximately 10000 years since I wrote for Mayans/SOA but I swear I'm still around and kicking. Bringing this story back from the dead after basically a year of not updating it 😂 But it's a longer chapter so I'm gonna pretend that that makes it okay lmao. I've missed writing these two, though. Lord knows I love me a good slow burn. 😌

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @darqchilddaydreamz @danzer8705 @camelia35 @thanossexual @kishie8 @callmejaye (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was a smooth ride back to the clubhouse the next day. There were minimal stops along the way—everyone just wanted to be back home. Between how busy the last couple of days were, and the sun constantly beating down on your back on the return trip, you were exhausted by the time you rolled into the clubhouse lot.

Everyone was hopping off their bikes, the guys in the van piling out, all of you stretching as you tossed your helmets onto your bikes. You looked around, trying to get a feel for what they were all planning on doing. You just wanted to go home and sleep, never mind the fact that it was still probably far too early to go to bed. But if everyone was going to hang around for a bit, you weren’t just going to take off.

You watched as Angel, Gilly, and Coco headed directly for the clubhouse. You were mentally gearing yourself up to follow suit when you heard Taza’s voice coming from behind you. Sometimes it felt like the man could see your plans before you even said or did anything about them.

“The rest of us are going home,” he told you as he stepped so that he was standing next to you.

You didn’t try to dial back your relief. “Yea?”

He laughed. “Yea.” He nodded towards the clubhouse. “They always pull late ones when we get back if everyone is in one piece. You can stay if you want, but,” he shook his head, “the rest of us just want to shower and sleep.”

“Thank god.” You laughed.

You reached into your kutte, pulling out your pack of cigarettes. Placing one between your lips, you grabbed your lighter as well. It took a couple tries, but you finally got it lit, taking a deep inhale and tilting your head back so that when you sighed, the smoke flowed straight up. You felt Taza watching you, and despite the fact that he declined the night before, you still gave him another wordless offer. He chuckled, caving and taking you up on it this time around. He pulled one out of the pack and allowed you to light it for him, watching as you carefully shielded the flame of your lighter from the light breeze threatening to blow it out.

“Do things usually go that smoothly?” you ventured to ask, assuming that if anyone was going to be honest with you, it was Taza.

He nodded, pulling a drag off his cigarette. “Yeah,” smoke flowed out between his lips with each word he spoke, “usually. Not always,” he chuckled knowingly, “but usually.”

You laughed, shrugging. “I could get used to that.”

He arched one eyebrow, clearly curious. “Things not go that smoothly in Yuma?”

You held the smoke in for a beat longer than you usually would before releasing it with a deep sigh. “Not for me.”

Taza studied your expression as you said that, the way that you weren’t looking directly at him as you spoke. Despite that, he could still see the tension in the way that you stood, the way you forced the deep breath out. He wondered if this was going to be the moment when you finally opened up about whatever had gone down in Yuma that made you transfer out. There were usually stories of some kind to accompany why men would shuffle between charters. Or, at the very worst, there were rumors, which while they weren’t ideal it would still give people some sort of an idea as to why the changes were happening. But it had been radio silent with you. Yuma didn’t say much, and you said even less. Truthfully, Taza wasn’t interested in Canche’s version of anything, but it would’ve been better than nothing.

But you still kept it in, whatever thoughts were racing around your mind at the mention of your last charter. Maybe one day down the line you would talk about it, or maybe it was just going to be another thing that got buried in the pile of happenings that you never forgot, but never discussed. If Santo Padre was going to be anything resembling a fresh start, you figured that leaving the past where it belonged was the best course of action. Giving things a voice didn’t always work out for you in the past.

Somehow, even with the overwhelming urge to pry, Taza didn’t say anything more to you about it. He was no stranger to having skeletons that he tried to hide from view. You both stood there, passively tapping the ash from the ends of your cigarettes smoke swirled up around you.

“Those runs are every month?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He nodded, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Least once a month, yeah.” He looked at you, a curious expression on his face. “You want to be put on the rotation?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah.” You dropped the last of your cigarette, snubbing it out beneath the toe of your boot. “Felt good to be back on the road again.”

“I’ll let Bishop know,” Taza said, nodding as he got as much as he could out of the cigarette pinned between his fingers.

“Appreciate it.” You smiled as you gave Taza a light clap on the shoulder. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Sounds good.” He watched as you walked back over to your bike, finally letting the end of his cigarette drop and hit the ground when you clipped your helmet on to drive off.

The next few days were quiet. There were no calls for Templo, and you didn’t have any yard shifts which you were thanking your lucky stars for. You took advantage of the downtime to try and rest, and to put some minor attempts into making your new place feel a little more like home. You’d never been good at the decorating thing, always counting on whoever you were living with to have a stronger knack for it than you. The plants that were struggling in your window sill, and the few picture frames tacked on the wall in your tiny living room were about the extent of your décor. You’d been saying that at some point you were going to have to remedy that, and now some point was here.

Looking around, you weren’t really sure if it made the apartment feel that much more like home. But it at least no longer looked like what would pass for a low-budget motel room. Now, you figured, you were at least in low-budget hotel territory. It was a step in the right direction. For once, you missed having a roommate.

Flopping down onto the couch, you came to the immediate conclusion that the throw pillows were a good purchase. It blew your mind how much a fucking pillow cost, but for all the times you ended up falling asleep on the couch instead of in your bed, you supposed it was a decent investment, and apparently it would brighten up the space, or whatever all those people on the HGTV channel would say.

You were halfway to falling asleep when your phone started buzzing in your pocket. You snapped awake, digging it out and bringing it to your ear without checking to see who was calling. “Yeah?”

“Yo. They called Templo.” EZ was clearly trying not to laugh at the fact that you sounded as tired as you felt. “Bish wants everyone here ASAP.”

You sat up, running your free hand down your face like that would wake you up. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

Luckily you were still in the clothes you’d gone out in before, so getting ready really just meant slipping into your kutte and putting your boots back on. You grabbed your helmet and took off out the door, double-checking to make sure that you’d really locked it.

You weren’t the last to show up to the clubhouse, but even so, there were still a good number of bikes already there when you showed up. You put yours in line with everyone else’s, leaving your gloves and helmet on the seat before making your way over to the clubhouse steps. Before you even opened the door, you could hear some of the chatter coming from inside. No one sounded angry, which was a good sign, but you still had no idea why Bishop had called a meeting.

You made your way over to the bar, never quite sure where else you should go. That was another thing you still had on your list of stuff to figure out. Everyone else seemed to have some sort of a routine, a group that they gravitated towards. You hadn’t found yours yet. Each time you thought about it, you thought about your quick exchange with Angel on the run. For all the ways that the guys like to bust his chops, you couldn’t help but to think that maybe this time he had a point.

Bishop’s voice ringing through the clubhouse cut down any chance for you to think too much more about it. You downed the last of your beer before getting up to head towards the sliding glass door. EZ was tossing your bottle and a few others into the recycling bin behind the bar when Bishop called out for him too.

“You too, prospect.” He nodded towards the room. “Might need your help with something.”

Your expression showed your mixed feelings of impressed and confused. Prospects in Templo didn’t happen often. Again, maybe it was different in Santo Padre, but you knew for a fact that in Yuma the circumstances had to be dire for that to happen. You wondered if there was more going on that you should all be worried about. The way EZ chuckled and shook his head let you know that he saw the confused look on your face. He fell into stride next to you once he came out from behind the bar.

“Least I know I’m not the only one out of the loop on this,” he joked before tossing his phone into the basket.

“What’s this?”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

You listened as Bishop, Taza, and Hank all explained what had been going down in the prisons. They were your drugs. Sure, technically they were Galindo’s, but Mayans were the ones distributing. Your charters were the ones distributing drugs that were making people drop like flies. It was more than just a one-off—it clearly wasn’t user error at this point.

Sitting back silently, you also listened to the plan that they were formulating to get to the bottom of all of it. It sounded a little batshit, to be quite honest. It was all hinging on EZ’s brain. Apparently he had an eidetic memory. You had no reason to believe that that wasn’t true, but you also found it a bit bold to be using it to essentially write off an entire charter as snakes. No one else seemed to share the same reservations, though.

“This doesn’t leave this room,” Bishop said as he looked around at all of you. “Got it?”

Everyone gave their version of yes before Bishop nodded, bringing the gavel down and effectively dismissing everyone. You stood up, pushing your chair back, and were about to start heading out of the room when Bishop spoke up again, this time only saying your name. It sent a tiny jolt of fear down your spine but you fought not to let it show as you turned around to face him and the other two men sitting at the head of the table, the only others who hadn’t gotten up from their chairs.

“Yeah, Pres?” you tried to sound casual enough, hoping it hid your nerves.

He nodded towards the chair that was on the opposite side of Hank, one that brought you to their end of the table. “Sit.”

There was nothing for you to say, so you just waited for the rest of the room to clear out. You temporarily snagged someone else’s seat for the sake of not sitting at nearly the opposite end of the table from Bishop while he spoke to you. You rested your forearms on top of the table, crossing them so that your hands rested by opposite elbows. There was no way for you to know for sure what your expression looked like, but you hoped it was something adjacent to relaxed, maybe even a little confident if you could muster it.

“Settling in alright?” Bishop asked when the room stilled again.

You chuckled out of nerves. “I think so, yeah.” You paused for a beat, looking at his expression, then those of Taza and Hank. It always seemed like everyone had a better game-face than you. “This like, what, a ninety-day eval or something?” you joked lightly.

Taza let out a quiet laugh at that, and it even got a bit of a smile out of Bishop before he replied, “Yeah, pretty much.”

You gave a slow nod, trying to take the temperature of the room. It didn’t feel tense enough for you to think that things were about to go poorly. “Alright. Why don’t you guys tell me how I’m settling in, then.”

Taza smiled, maybe a little more outwardly amused than he should’ve been. “We think you’re settling in alright too.”

“We just need to know if you’re planning on staying,” Hank finally spoke up, “now that you’ve seen what we do here.”

You had no hesitation as you nodded. “I wanna stay. I’m—I’m gonna stay.”

Bishop was studying your face, looking for any crack in any possible façade that you could be putting up. “You’re sure on that?” He saw the way you were about to shoot something back, but the slight lift of his hand from the table stopped you. “I need to make sure my club is fuckin’ steady. You left Yuma. I didn’t ask why—I don’t really give a fuck why, either. I just need to know if you’re gonna wanna leave here too.”

You managed to keep your composure, not wanting to get heated enough to the point where you’d have to get into it all. Instead, you took a deep breath, set your shoulders back, and shook your head. “I’m not planning on leaving.”

There was a long drag of silence. Long enough that if anyone in that room was holding a lie together by a thread it would’ve snapped. You must’ve seemed steady and sure enough for Bishop’s liking, for all of theirs, because everyone in the room relaxed. Except Taza—the one person in the room who hadn’t seemed tense in the first place.

“Good,” Bishop finally said. He snubbed his cigarette out before dropping the act and letting himself smile. “Now we won’t have to do this shit again.” He saw the relief on your face and he just nodded towards the door. “Go on, get outta here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately getting up and letting yourself out. The usual thrumming of the clubhouse hardly even registered as you quickly made your way through and out the door. You stopped on the deck, just needing fresh air as you braced yourself against the railing.

The creaking of the door opening behind you caused you to turn around. You chuckled and shook your head when you saw it was Taza. “You know that was coming?” you asked.

He chuckled, nodding. “Of course I did.”

“Didn’t think to warn me?”

He shrugged as he leaned on the railing next to you. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

You shook your head, not looking at him but not really looking away from him either. “Bit of a risk, isn’t it?” You turned to look at him only to find him already facing you. “Asking me if I’m gonna stay after going over all that shit with the other charters?”

Taza shook his head. “No risk.”

“No?”

He shrugged. “I had the feeling you weren’t gonna flinch.”

“If I did?”

“We had plans in place for that too.”

“Jesus Christ,” you said with a shake of your head.

He chuckled, clapping you on the back. “Good thing you didn’t flinch, huh?”

“Yeah.” You had to laugh a little. You knew what you were dealing with—at the end of the day it was still an MC. “Real good thing.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #taza romero #che romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero x you #degrees of separation #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans au #x reader #x reader fic

[acervorevolucionario]

Che Guevara e Camilo Cienfuegos, por Perfecto Romero, 1959.

Che havia trocado sua boina pelo emblemático chapéu de Cienfuegos.

#che guevara #camilo cienfuegos #cuba #1959 #perfecto romero #revolução cubana

[tulijaa]

#Mayans MC #taza romero #che romero

[mysoulisasunflower]

Angel Reyes & Coco Cruz

Mayans MC | 1.2 "Escorpión/Dzec"

#ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #angel reyes #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz #taza romero #che taza romero #gif #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 28

Alright. It's a doozy. I'm talking like twice or three times the length of most of my chapters, but y'all voted for it. Here it is.

Do not steal my shit. This is the only place this is posted and there's a damn good reason for it. People have been waiting a long time for this chapter.

WARNINGS: cussing, 18+ only, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), oral sex (f receiving), etc. It's fluffy porn for the last 2K+ words, okay?

Also - the first time I've EVER published something like this so be gentle. Better yet - be specific if you like it because I probably won't have the guts to write more like it if you aren't.

In Santo Padre proper, Hank parked the bike outside the best restaurant in town. He locked down their helmets and offered Megan his arm as he escorted her to the hostess stand.

“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” the young lady asked.

“Should be under Loza,” Hank said, squeezing Megan’s hand gently.

“Yes sir. We have your table all ready for you. Please follow me.” She led them inside where they checked their jackets and then took them to a table that was fairly private. “Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal.”

Hank pulled Megan’s chair out for her and guided it in before taking his own seat.

Megan looked around with wide eyes. “Holy shit, Hank. I don’t know how to act in something as upscale as this.”

Hank laughed a little. “You’re doing fine, mi reina. Relax. It’s not as stuffy as it seems. I bring Mama here for special occasions. I promise, you’ll be just fine.” He leaned forward and took her good hand in his. “Besides - you don’t have to be anything except yourself. We don’t even have to order here. They just serve us the meal prepared for the evening. No decisions. No menus. Just us and dinner.” He couldn’t resist kissing her knuckles again as he watched her settle at his touch.

A waiter appeared at his elbow inquiring as to what they’d like to drink. Megan ordered water and Hank did as well. “We won’t be needing the wine list either,” Hank told him with a smile for Megan.

The bread and salad came out soon after they’d both gotten their drinks. As they ate, they talked softly about anything that came to mind. By the time the main course arrived, Megan was as relaxed in public as she could be. 

Hank was in the middle of telling Megan a story about when he was a young man in the military when their waiter appeared again to refill their water glasses. “Pardon me, but Mr. Galindo sends his regards and would like to buy your table a round of drinks,” he informed them.

Megan stiffened and looked around before clocking Miguel Galindo at a solitary table on the balcony. His head of security - the mercenary with the braids - stood near him. He raised a whiskey glass to acknowledge her look. 

Hank nodded. “You can tell Mr. Galindo that we appreciate his offer, but we’re not drinking tonight. Thank you,” he said levelly. 

“Very well sir,” the waiter said before leaving them to eat in peace. 

“What the hell does he think he’s doing? Megan fumed quietly. “There’s no way he thought that would be well received.”

Hank reached across the table to clasp her hand again to steady her. “Easy, mi princessa. THe more he sees it bothers us, the more outrageous he’ll get. Just ignore him.” He gently rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Deep breath. Don’t let him get to you.” 

Megan took a deep breath and squeezed his fingers before she started eating the steak and vegetables that was their main course.

Once the main course was finished, the waiter appeared again to clear their plates. “Would you like dessert?”

Hank grinned. “What is it tonight?”

“Triple chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream.”

Hank looked at Megan with a smile. “What do you think, mi amore?”

Megan cracked a smile and bit her bottom lip.

“I do believe that’s a yes. We’ll take one,” Hank laughed. 

While they were waiting on their dessert, Hank reached for her hands again. “Still up for dancing after this, mi reina?”

“Of course. You promised to teach me how to really dance.” She grinned. “Tío Marcus has taught me some of the formal stuff, but Coco swears I look like a stiff.”

Hank laughed. “Alright. There’s a little dance club down the street-”

“Excuse me. I hate to interrupt -”

Hank sighed and looked up to find Miguel standing by their table adjusting his cufflinks.

He watched Megan sink a bit in her chair. “Mr. Galindo. What can we do for you?” He reached to guide Megan around the table to bring her closer to him.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but I couldn’t help but notice that your sling is off, Ms. Morales. Is that wise?” Miguel asked. 

Megan looked to Hank in a panic without saying anything, so he pulled her around to sit on his knee. “Megan was cleared by a doctor earlier today. We’re actually celebrating that tonight. Was there something you needed?” Hank asked, gently rubbing the small of her back over the low back of her dress.

Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Ms. Morales - your voice has changed. I was under the impression that you were an officer in the M.C. Surely you can answer for yourself.”

Megan rested against Hank and took a deep breath. “Mr. Galindo, I am the Armorer of this charter, however, I’m not a voting member. I also don’t speak for the club on anything. Hank or another member will always be the one to speak instead of myself. That’s just how the structure of our organization works.”

Galindo smirked. “Ah, but we weren’t discussing business, Ms. Morales. We were discussion your personal safety. Perhaps you would do better with my organization watching out for you.”

“Either way, Mr. Galindo, my caballero or my father or godfathers will always speak for me first. They will always protect my interests,” Megan stated confidently. Hank nodded and placed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Surely you don’t see me as a threat, Ms. Morales. I’m a friend of your godfather. I’d like to be a friend to you.” He cut his eyes at Hank. “What’s preventing this relationship from becoming a friendship?”

Hank rubbed his hand up and down Megan’s bare back again and smiled. “Mr. Galindo, Megan can befriend whomever she likes. However, she also is still recovering from the abuse she suffered at the hands of people in a position of power over her. Because of that, she doesn’t feel comfortable discussing things with people that she doesn’t know. That’s where her club comes in. That’s where her family comes in.”

Megan settled against Hank’s chest and leaned her head against his shoulder as he continued to soothe her with his touch.

Miguel nodded and seated himself in Megan’s abandoned chair. “So, how can I gain your trust Ms. Morales? My business runs on trust. I don’t like not having yours.”

Megan sat up again, but continued to lean into Hank for courage. “Mr. Galindo, trust takes time to build. You have to give me time to get to know you and your organization. Time to see that you’re trustworthy.”

“Time? You need time?” Miguel ran his pointer finger over his top lip. “I can give you time, Cariño. On one condition…”

“What is your condition, Mr. Galindo?” Megan asked, lacing the fingers of her good hand through Hank’s where his hand rested on her hip.

“You allow me to attempt to earn that trust from you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Simply… allow me to be… friendly. Accept my gifts. Allow me to speak to you freely on the street without someone to hide behind.” He flashed her a charming smile.

“Mr. Galindo - it’s a free country. You can speak to anyone you’d like. Megan will speak with whomever she pleases. She can accept gifts from anyone - but you cannot require that of her if she is uncomfortable with you. You cannot intimidate mi princessa into trusting you.” Hank squeezed Megan’s waist comfortingly. “No one will ever force la princessa de los Mayas y mi reina to do something against her will again as long as any members of the Mayans M.C. survive. NOw - if you will excuse us - you’re interrupting our celebration. If you’d like to arrange a meeting to discuss la princessa, I suggest you go through proper channels.” Hank’s voice was smooth and calm the entire time he spoke to Galindo, but Megan could feel the tension in his body beneath hers.

Miguel nodded decisively and smirked at Hank’s protective speech. “Very well. Perhaps I will go through the proper channels then. See if I can’t get her as liaison.” He stood and straightened his suit jacket. “Until then, it was wonderful to see you looking so… well, Ms. Morales.” He paused to run his eyes over Megan where she sat. “Enjoy your… celebration.” He gave a mocking not to them and swept out of the restaurant. 

As soon as he was out of sight, Megan wilted into Hank as he cuddled her close. He could feel her trembling as she fought to keep her breathing even. “Easy, mi amore. You did beautifully.” He pressed kisses to her hair and used both hands to stroke her back and arms. “Shh. You’re alright. I’ve got you. He’s gone.”

Megan focused on her breathing as it seemed like a bubble of tension in the restaurant popped, releasing a wave of chatter from the other diners. She got herself under control and quickly sat up to give Hank a weak smile.

Hank cupped her cheek in his massive palm and soothed over her cheekbone with his thumb. “There’s my girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lip and smiled.

Their waiter reappeared with fresh water and their dessert. “Here you are sir, miss. Can I get you anything else? We appreciate how calmly you took your dinner being interrupted by another guest. My manager would like you to know that tonight’s meal is on the house as a thank you for your patience and kindness.”

Hank smiled at the much smaller man. “Thank your manager for us. I think mi reina would appreciate a cup of tea if you have time.” He smoothed some hair that had escaped her braids out of her face softly as he rocked her.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with that, sir.” The waiter hurried off.

Megan took one more deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth before she smiled at Hank. “Sorry. I froze.”

He kissed her forehead before pulling the dessert close and offering her one of the spoons. “You did just fine, Princessa. Let’s finish dinner and see if you still feel like going dancing afterwards.”

After finishing their dessert and a cup of tea for Megan, Hank guided her back out of the restaurant. He gently helped her into her leather jacket and took her back to his bike.

“Alright, mi amore. Still feel like dancing tonight? I’ll understand if you don’t,” he assured her.

Megan smiled up at him. “I don’t want him to succeed at spoiling our date night. I’d love to go dancing with you.”

Hank lit up. “In that case - let’s leave the bike here. There’s not much parking over by where I want to take you. Do you mind walking?”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s a beautiful night.”

Hank guided her to the inside of the sidewalk and took her good hand as they walked down the street. It wasn’t very far at all and Megan grinned when she could hear the music. “Ready to go dancing for the first time, mi princessa?” Hank asked, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and lingering teasingly.

“Ready.” She smiled up at him, giggling when he guided her into a spin right there on the street. 

They rounded the corner and entered a plaza that was lit with strings of lights. The club door was just a few yards away when Megan froze. Hank stopped and turned to check on her with a frown. “Mi amore? What’s wrong?”

Megan pointed to the door where a man with familiar braids stood talking to the bouncer. 

“Fuck. Asshole. He delayed us on purpose because he was sending his errand boy ahead,” Hank growled. “Either he’s waiting inside to ambush us again, or he’s paid off the doorman to keep us from getting in.”

Megan sighed and pressed her face into Hank’s bicep. “I really don’t want to deal with him again. He makes me anxious.”

Hank pulled her close and let her tuck herself into his broad chest before he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Then we won’t, mi reina. We can dance another night. We can go home or even back to the clubhouse with your papa and tíos. If you want, we can call the guys and have them bring the girls from Vickie’s - make our own dance club at the clubhouse…” He kissed her hair gently and rocked back and forth to settle her.

Nestor caught sight of them and smiled before patting the bouncer on the shoulder. 

Hank struggled not to lose his temper and go a few rounds with the cartel security. He focused on Megan in his arms and got angrier when he heard her sniff back tears. “Oh Princessa. Don’t cry. Don’t let that bastard steal our night.” He loosened his hold until he could tilt her face up to his and kiss her gently right there on the street corner. “Say the word, mi amore, and the club will arrive in force to go in with us if you want to dance in there tonight. You won’t have to deal with him. We’ll shield you.” He wiped the lone tear that slid down her cheek gently.

“No. Let’s just go home.” She shook her head. “No use in getting into fights with the fucking cartel over it.” Her eyes pleaded with Hank to let it go. “Let’s just ignore him and go home.”

He searched her face for a minute. “Alright, mi reina. Alright.” He turned her around and headed back towards the bike. 

Once they were back at the bike, Megan sighed. She looked so upset still, and Hank couldn’t stand it. He kissed both sets of knuckles and then her lips before he smiled down at her. “Well - at least I won’t have to shoot anyone for hitting on my gorgeous girl tonight. You really are so beautiful I’d probably have had to fight to keep you to myself in there.”

That got a watery chuckle from her as he leaned down to press a deep kiss to her lips. He pressed her close to his body and smiled as she fought to catch her breath after they broke apart. 

His personal phone chimed from his suit jacket pocket which gave him an idea. He pulled it out and started typing furiously. It dinged again - multiple times in a row - alerting her to the amount of responses he was getting. By the time the dinging stopped, he was grinning ear to ear.

“Alright, Princessa. Plan B. Let’s run to the grocery store for some extra ice cream and head home. The night’s not over yet.”

Hank encouraged her to take her time choosing snacks at the store. They got ice cream and topping for it as well as candy of all sorts. 

“What are we doing?” Megan giggled as Hank reached for a giant bag of M&Ms. 

“It’s a surprise, Princessa. The rich bastard can’t ruin this plan.” He grinned down at the loaded handbasket. “Anything else you want, mi amore?”

“I don’t think so. There’s so much.”

“Gotta have options.” His phone chirped again and he checked it. Whatever was on his screen made him smile in satisfaction. “Let’s head home.”

Back on the bike, Hank felt Megan relax into his back as soon as the wind hit her. When they stopped at a stoplight, he reached back to rest his hand on her bare thigh, stoking the soft skin that he couldn’t feel through his leather riding gloves.

At the ranch, Megan saw that the lights had been turned on inside, but there were no bikes or van parked outside. Once Hank cut the bike’s engin, Megan asked, “Who’s here?” as she removed her helmet.

“No one anymore. I had the Prospect come set some things up for us and then leave the lights on.” He smiled as he guided her off the bike first before dismounting along with her.

“Did you tell Papa what happened?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head. “Not yet, Princessa. We can tell him tomorrow morning so that he and Bishop can handle it. It’s not going to blow up our night.” He pulled her close and leaned down to kiss her gently. “Let’s go inside.”

Inside the ranch house, everything looked normal in the entrance and the living room, so Megan was a little puzzled. Hank helped her remove her leather jacket and hung it with his before leading her into the kitchen to put away the ice cream. That’s when she noticed it.

Hank had asked EZ to clear the patio of everything except the love seat to the side and the brick fire pit. String edison lights were hung from the rafters holding the roof and a fire had been laid, but wasn’t yet lit. One of the stereo systems from the clubhouse had been hung as well and the projector and screen from their movie date were back in place playing Latin dance music and showing video of some kind of festival where dancing happened in the plaza. 

She went to the patio doors and smiled brightly at the set up. After putting the ice cream in the freezer, Hank joined her at the doors, wrapping his arms around her from behind and swaying gently. “Now we can dance as much as we want and no one can interrupt us,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her left temple. “And if you get tired, we have all the snacks for a movie instead.”

“This is amazing. You didn’t have to do this -” she said, leaning back into his embrace.

“Mi reina, you were disappointed that Galindo was able to pull strings like he did tonight. I promised you dinner and dancing - so that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.” He smiled and caught her left hand in his right and spun her gently all the way around. “Ready for that dance?”

Megan popped up on her toes and kissed him. “Any time.”

Hank led her out onto the patio and lit the fire pit quickly before finding the remote that controlled the music and sliding it into his jacket pocket. He changed the song to the one they’d first danced to in Mama’s backyard before offering Megan his hand in the most over the top gallant fashion he could manage. “May I have this dance?”

Megan laughed, throwing her head back until she calmed enough to take his offered hand. “Of course, good sir.”

Hank drew her close and into frame for a proper dance before taking the lead. He could definitely tell the difference this time. Megan never looked away from his face to check her feet. She just trusted his lead. 

She smiled up at him as he spun her gently before catching her and lowering her into a dip. “You ready for the next step, Princessa?”

“What’s next?”

He chuckled. “Time to move. Just follow my lead.”

When the song changed, he started dancing her around the patio. It took a few minutes, but she found her footing in the movement. She glanced down to see that she was keeping beat and laughed.

Hank released her hand to guide her chin back up to meet his eyes. “Eyes on me, mi reina. You’re doing just fine.” He watched as she bit her bottom lip before meeting his gaze again. “There’s my girl.”

Megan felt heat spread through her veins and thought it must be visible on her face. The hand that Hank had on her waist slipped back to stroke the skin that was at the small of her back as she moved a little closer to him. “Hank?”

“Sí, mi princessa?”

“Kiss me?”

He smirked a bit before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips as the song swapped again. A much slower song started and he guided both of her hands up to the back of his neck asw he pulled her closer still.

Megan pouted up at him, making him laugh. “What’s wrong, mi amore?”

“That doesn’t count as a kiss.” 

He pressed his forehead against hers with a cheeky smile. “Oh really? What kind of kiss were you looking for?”

“This kind.” Megan pressed herself up to kiss Hank deeply as her hands slid into his haid to pull him closer. 

Hank couldn’t resist and pressed her completely against him with one hand stroking the bare back exposed by the dress that had been teasing him for hours as the other slid up to support Megan's head and neck. He let her lead the kiss as much as he could before she let out a tiny sound of pleasure that broke his carefully held control.

He gentled the kiss only enough to allow her to breathe before he backed them up to the loveseat. When he felt it at his back, he sat - pulling her to straddle his lap. For the first time, he felt like he could safely enjoy her being on top of him. He reveled in it. 

Megan settled into the comfort of his wide lap with a smile. Even with the brace still on her right wrist, this was the most Hank had allowed her to do in a while. Her hands went back to his soft hair as she kissed him again. 

Hank’s hands stroked the skin of her back and shoulders before one slid down her body to her bare thigh where her skirt had ridden up. He traced the bike shorts she was wearing before sliding his hand around to cup her ass through them and pull her hips tighter to his as he guided kisses across her jaw until he could nip her ear gently. “See, mi reina. Dancing at home has it’s advantages.”

Megan let out a breathy giggle as he rocked her hips into his. 

He smiled against her skin before exploring further down her neck with his kisses.

Megan allowed her head to fall back as he brushed his lips along the cleavage the neckline of her dress exposed and let out a small whine when he stopped. 

He chuckled as her trance was broken and she pouted at him again. He gently kissed her once more while rocking his hips up into hers. “Is this what you want, Megan?” he asked quietly. “Is it? You know you are the one calling the shots, right?” He cupped her neck with one hand and her hip with the other and waited until she met his eyes. Megan’s pupils were dilated so far that he could barely see the deep brown color that he had come to love so very much. “This is your choice.”

She smiled at him in such a way as to make his breath catch in his throat. “I know, Hank. You are always my choice.” She wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulders and rocked her hips against the hard ridge in his suit pants. “I want you. All of you…”

He buried his face in her good shoulder as he pressed kisses to her skin. Once he’d calmed down enough, he smiled up at her. “Then we should take this behind locked doors.” He paused to press a kiss to her lips. “Go inside, mi reina. I’m going to put out the fire and cover the electronics and then I’ll meet you in our room.”

Megan searched his face for a moment before smiling down at him. “Alright.” She slid off his lap with the help of his guiding hands and shivered a bit when he sat forward on the love seat to kiss her stomach through her dress.

Once he was standing, he released her hand with a kiss and patted her ass to send her on her way inside. As she crossed the threshold of the patio doors, he started shutting everything down for the night. As he turned off the music, he realized that the speaker system was the outdoor ones - but they looked newer than the ones at the clubhouse. And the projector had been mounted to the rafters this time as well.

He went around the corner of the house to get the bucket of sand that Taza kept for putting out the fire pit and saw brand new boxes for the electronics broken down and ready to be burned. He laughed and shook his head. The Prospect must have told Taza what he’d been asked to do and Taza sent him shopping. Probably with Creep along to choose the right things to create a more permanent outdoor theater for the house. He shot a text off to Taza to thank him for making this easy for him, then grabbed the bucket and went to smother the fire. 

Before he went back inside to unplug the lights, his phone dinged with a reply and he checked it. “Anything for her, Hermano. She alright? Why the change of plans?” it read.

Hank paused and responded - “She’s fine. I’ll explain in the morning.”

An immediate reply came through saying “Good. See you in the morning.”

Hank locked his phone as he shut and locked the patio doors. Once he’d unplugged the patio lights, he plugged his phone in next to Megan’s on the kitchen counter and turned to the hallway to meet her.

In the bedroom, Megan had taken the time to remove her makeup and wash her face. She sat at her vanity unpinning her braids as he walked in and leaned in the doorway. She was humming contentedly and he waited for her to notice him before joining her in the bedroom.

Megan’s eyes met his in the mirror and she smiled. “Thought I’d go ahead and wash my face.” She let her warrior braids fall to brush her tattooed back.

“Need some help, Princessa?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe and closing the door behind him and locking it. 

She smiled up at him as he joined her at her vanity. “Of course.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Want your jewelry off?”

“Yes please. And my hair down.”

He smiled again and removed her necklaces, placing kisses beneath each clasp before undoing them. He helped to remove her earrings carefully as well before replacing her cord and silver necklace from Taza. He felt her shoulders relax as soon as it was back in its place around her throat. Lastly, he removed her new pearl bracelet and put it away in her jewelry box.

He reached for the small scissors that Taza had shown him to use to cut the bands on her smaller braids. He carefully snipped each band and threw them away before he started to unravel Megan’s hair. He watched her face relax as the tension from her heavy hair released. Once it was all unraveled, he gently massaged her scalp and watched her eyes close in bliss. Once he’d worked over her scalp well, he picked up the brush she used to detangle it and brushed it out so that it laid to her waist over her dress. “Better, mi amore?” he asked, smoothing her silky hair.

She opened her eyes to meet his with a smile. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You are so beautiful, Megan.” He bruised her hair aside to kiss her bare shoulder. 

She smiled and tilted her head to give him more access to her neck as she watched him in the mirror.

Hank took advantage of the exposed skin and pressed kisses up her neck until he reached her ear. “Alright, Princessa. You’re sure?” he whispered.

“I’m sure, Hank.”

He kissed her temple before shedding his suit jacket and the button up so he was just standing there in his slacks and a white wife-beater tank with his tattoos on display in the dim lighting of the lamps. He offered Megan his hand to help her stand and when she took it, he guided her close to him. Once she was pressed to his front, he used one massive hand to tilt her chin up so he could look down into her eyes. “You tell me to stop at any time, mi reina. Anytime.” He stroked a gentle thumb across her bottom lip. “Promise me?”

Megan’s wide trusting eyes stared up at him and she blinked. “I promise.”

“Good girl.” He pulled her closer against his chest and kissed her deeply, stroking his hands over her still clothed body.

Megan’s hands explored his chest and sides as she let out the tiniest little whimper. When he paused, she whined and reached to pull his head back down to kiss him again. She ran her good hand through his ruffled hair and stood on her bare toes to reach him better.

Hank cupped her hips over her dress and lifted her until she wrapped her legs around his waist without stopping the kiss. He finally broke it to laugh a little because she was giggling. He walked them to the bed and laid her across it before peppering kisses across her face and neck.

She grinned up at him as he paused to catch his breath.

He reached to cup her face again. “I love when you smile at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re the happiest woman in the world and I did something to make you that way.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before deepening it. He slid his hand to her knee where it rested against his side and eased his touch up her leg beneath the skirt of that deep red dress. He was expecting to encounter the bike shorts again, but instead found only the smooth skin of her thigh. He buried his face in the crook of her neck with a moan. “Makeup wasn’t all you took off, mi amore, was it?”

Megan ran her casted hand gently down his back over his wife beater and stroked the back of his neck with gentle fingers. “Don’t need shorts if I’m not on the bike…”

He made another strangled sound as his hand encountered lace which made her giggle again. “You alright, Hank?” she asked.

He kept his face buried in her skin and nodded. “Gimme a minute.”

Megan relaxed beneath him where he laid on top of her, supporting his weight  on the arm by her head. She marveled at how he was rock steady above her as she traced the muscles of his back.

“Princessa, that’s not helping. I’m trying real hard not to embarrass myself right now.” He picked his head up with a smile before rocking his hips gently against her.

Megan reached to stroke the line of his jaw with her good hand. “I won’t break, Hank. The sling is fully off and all that’s left is the soft cast. You won’t hurt me.”

He kissed her inner wrist and nodded. “I know, but you were so hurt for so long, mi reina. I don’t want that for you again. Especially because I lost control.” He slid to the side a little to rest on the bed beside her as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Besides - I know that this -” he gestured between the two of them. “This isn’t something that’s been your choice in a long time. I don’t want to be like him.”

Megan smiled and moved to snuggle closer to his body heat. “You aren’t him though. You’ll never be him. I’m not afraid of you and never have been.” She made solid eye contact with him. “I love you.”

Hank took a moment to scan her eyes for any hesitation, but found none so he drew her into a deep and loving kiss while guiding her hands back to his chest. 

Megan could feel that he was still hesitant to push her, so she tugged at the white tank top he was still wearing before whispering - “Off.”

When Hank sat up to remove it, Megan reached to undo the side zipper on her dress. He never took his eyes off of her as she shed it carefully - revealing the white lace panties he had only felt during their make out session. Her chest was completely bare since she’d shed the sticky bra at the same time as the bike shorts. She watched his jaw tighten before reaching for him to unfasten his slacks.

As her fingers fumbled with the zipper, Hank’s hands explored the now familiar skin of her torso.  He stroked her skin gently while surging forward to kiss her again with more heat in it. 

As soon as the zipper released, Megan stroked the hard ridge of his cock through the cotton of his boxer briefs causing him to moan softly. He broke the kiss to slide out of his slacks and sit firmly against the headboard before offering her his hand in invitation.

She didn’t hesitate. She took the offered hand and moved to straddle him, sitting firmly over that pronounced ridge in his underwear and shivering in pleasure at the feeling.

The heat that he could feel through the two thin layers of cotton was overwhelming. He cupped the back of her neck to pull her into his kisses before trailing more over them over the soft skin of her neck and shoulder. When his kisses hit that soft spot, right below her ear, Megan couldn’t resist a small moan of satisfaction as she rocked gently in his lap giving her body some of the stimulation it craved. 

With his left hand, Hank moved to cup a bare breast, gently thumbing and rolling the hard nipple as he diligently nibbled sweet spots on her neck and ears. His other hand slipped down to stroke teasingly along the top band of her panties.

Her hands alternated holding his head close to where she so desperately wanted it and stroking the muscles of his arms and abs.

When he pulled back a bit to catch his breath, Megan didn’t give him a chance for his brain to re engage and start overthinking again. Instead, she returned the favor, exploring his tattooed skin with wet kisses and nibbles. She traced the now familiar ink of his chest with her lips before nuzzling the nautical star just beneath his clavicle.

Hank reached to pull her higher on his body so he could catch her breast with his lips. She arched to offer him full access which he took advantage of - tracing around her sensitive breast with his tongue before catching a nipple to suckle - enjoying the soft noises of pleasure she let out. His fingers slipped under the final lace covering her to tease her cleft, causing her to buck into his touch with a whine. He chuckled and swapped breasts as her hand clutched at his broad shoulders for support.

It didn’t take much encouragement for him to part her folds to find her clit. As he stroked the first circle over it, Megan’s breath caught in her throat and he noticed her arms shaking trying to support her weight against him. Her cast rubbed his skin as she shifted.

He nuzzled her breasts. “Easy, mi amore. Don’t hurt yourself.” He kissed up her body to catch her lips in a deep kiss before muttering “Let me help…” against her lips.

He quickly wrapped his free arm around her back to hold her against him. Without ever losing rhythm, he flipped their positions and laid her back against the bed beneath him again. 

As soon as he settled her into the covers, he paused to look at her. Her dark hair sprawled across the blankets they had chosen together. Her lips swollen from his kisses. Her breasts rising rapidly as she enjoyed his touch. That’s when it clicked for him. She really meant it. He was her choice - and he’d be damned if he didn’t worship her the way she deserved. 

Megan whined as his fingers left her slit.

“Shh,” he hushed her gently, leaning to kiss her softly on the forehead. “Patience, Princessa.” He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties before guiding them down her legs as his lips trailed kisses down her small body.

Once she was completely bare beneath him, he pecked kisses up her skin again until he could kiss her lips. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered before resuming laying on his side over her to enjoy her kisses again.

When she was so involved in kissing him that she tried to roll over to press into his body, he gently pressed her back onto her back before trailing his hands along her skin again and teasing her entrance with a single finger as she whined. 

“Hank, please - don’t tease me -”

He smiled down at her. “Never.” He eased a finger into her tight tunnel and she arched off the bed as his thumb found her clit again. She was so wet she was practically dripping, so he pulled out and added another finger, catching her cry of pleasure with a kiss. He eased into a rhythm with his fingers and thumb - watching her build quickly for him.

“There she is. Gonna cum for me, Preciosa?” On his next press inside her, he hooked his fingers up to rub along her top wall. He knew he’d found it when Megan cried out and her hands scrambled for purchase against his chest making him chuckle a little. He shifted his weight to catch her hands in one of his before gently, and with a mind for her brace, trapping them against him. “Come on, Princessa,” he whispered, watching her body language. 

On the next thrust of his fingers, her eyes popped open to meet his and her mouth opened on a silent scream as her entire body tensed and she came for him.

Hank eased her through it as he watched her body spasm before relaxing into him panting for breath. He slowed his hand and released her arms to hook a finger under her chin an guide her into a deep and gentle kiss. 

He tried to ease his fingers out of her without triggering too much oversensitivity, but she still twitched and whimpered. He hushed her gently and gathered her to his chest to let her breathing regulate. 

Once she was breathing regularly again, he eased back to grin down at her a bit cockily. “Alright there, Princessa?”

Megan giggled. “Mmmhmm.”

“Good. Do you want more or do you want to stop?” he asked, smoothing her hair down her back as they lay on their sides still pressed closely together.

She tilted her chin so she could look him in the eyes. “I really want all of you…”

He smiled and moved to kiss her again. “Then you’ll get it, mi reina.” He nudged her back onto her back before reaching to tease her entrance again. “That’s my girl. Oh Princessa, you’re so wet…” He eased his fingers back inside her as she arched for him. He started slow and gentle to be sure that her oversensitivity had passed before brushing sucking kisses down her throat - focusing on a spot between her neck and left shoulder to leave a light mark beneath where the collar of a t-shirt would cover.

When her soft whimpers turned to a whine, he eased further down to kiss and tease her breasts. She arched as he stroked that spot inside her again and he sucked a nipple hard making her cry out. “That’s it- Good girl-” he breathed into her skin as he kissed further down.  “Let me taste you, mi amore…” He nuzzled further down, guiding her good hand to his hair before he pressed a kiss to her hip. “Just a taste - then you can cum for me again…”

Megan whined and tugged his hair. “Hank - want you-”

He kissed her hip again, nibbling another mark into her skin. “You’ll have me - but I really want to taste you. Let me?” He looked up at her to meet her eyes - blown wide with the pleasure his fingers were giving her.

She met his eyes and bit down hard on her lip before nodding. 

Hank immediately moved to swipe his tongue through her dripping slit. Broad flat licks from his pumping fingers to her clit before circling that sensitive bundle with his tongue.

Megan’s fingers tightened and clutched his hair as she cried out a writhed. When he sucked gently at her clit and crooked his fingers again, she screamed and came for him again.

This time, Hank didn’t let her come down fully. He eased up a little, but kept up the stimulation as he shed his briefs. Just as she suddenly started spasming again, he slid his fingers out and moved to sink his cock inside her. 

Megan screamed again in pleasure as Hank sank halfway inside on his first thrust. Her hands moved to clutch at his back as his face buried in her good shoulder with a groan and a string of broken Spanish.

He eased back and thrust back in with a gentle roll of his hips until he was fully seated inside of her. He peppered her skin with kisses as he gave her time to adjust. When she finally relaxed beneath him, he propped himself on his elbows so he could look down into her face. “You okay, mi reina?” he panted, struggling to be still.

She nodded and tried to lift her hips - “So good. Hank - move please-” she begged through harsh breaths.

He started gentle but felt her shifting to take him deeper and adjusted his strokes until she was crying out again and digging her nails into his tattooed back. 

He moaned as he felt her tightening down on him. “Good girl - gonna cum soon. Need you close-” He shifted to put more power behind his thrust and snaked a hand between them to thumb her clit again. 

“Hank!”

“You close, mi amore? Gonna cum on my cock like mi reina deserves?”

She nodded frantically and tried to bite off her scream as she exploded, triggering his own release. He thrust through both of their highs before easing off until he practically collapsed on top of her. After a few breaths, he pulled her close and rolled them so she was on top as she shuddered through the aftershocks. As she relaxed, he eased out of her causing her to whimper.

“Shh. Easy, mi princessa. Rest.” He pressed kisses to her tangled hair and stroked her skin soothingly. “You are so perfect. So perfect.” He looked down as both of their breaths evened out to see her eyes closed and a content little smile on her lips. “Rest a minute - then we’ll get you cleaned up.”

After letting her relax in his arms, he gently eased out from under her - soothing sounds escaping him as she whined at him moving. He scooped her up and went in to start the shower for both of them. He helped to clean her up and combed through her hair to remove the worst of the tangles. Then he snuggled her dozing body against his beneath their blankets and drifted off to sleep with his nose burning in the crown of her head and her right back where she belonged to sleep - practically on top of him.

Taglist:

@jemmakates

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@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

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@keyweegirlie

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