#Miguel Galindo

[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

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

Word Count: 1,700+.

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

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going? Alena!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

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

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

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

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

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

“Rio…”

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

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

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

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

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

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

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

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

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

“I can’t,” you sighed.

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

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

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

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

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

“You want to talk about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Tags:

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

@superhoeva @memeaaaa @djconde58

#berberriescorner #are you listening? #issa interlude #drinks on me-yeah? #series #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x y/n #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #black writer #spotify #daddy rio #miguel galindo #daddy miguel #rich papi #danny pino #i love my mutuals😍 #Spotify

[imagineredwood]

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

#sons of anarchy #mayans mc #ez reyes #angel reyes #juice ortiz #manny mayans mc #jax teller #bishop losa #jax teller x reader #angel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #bishop losa x reader #manny x reader #juice ortiz x reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #group hcs #headcannons #headcanons #samcro

[aliyalala]

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" "Nah"

Gojo, Miguel, Peter, Geto, Toji, Mikasa, Jotaro, Jolyne

#gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro fluff #gojo imagine #jolyne kujo #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel galindo #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #peter b parker #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #getoutstayout #toji #jjk toji #daddy toji #toji smut #toji angst #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji

[dxwart]

my old art for Miguel O'Hara. I already posted on my twitter so I have to drop them here too!

#spiderverse fanart #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #peter b parker #mayday parker #mayday parade #miguel spiderman #miguel galindo #miguel o'hara #atsv

[iasikaijutopia]

You were to get these guys in a room...I think I'd be scared...but I also do not wanna know what would happen...but at the same time...???

#don draper #mad men #jon hamm #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #james st patrick #ghost #power starz #omari hardwick #miguel galindo #mayans mc #danny pino #jax teller #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #harvey specter #suits tv #gabriel macht #crossover #would they even get along? #maybe some... #but i'm pretty sure they'd hate one another

[cinemapix]

MAYANS M.C. (2018 - 2023) Season 5, Episode 1: I Hear the Train A-Comin

#mayans mc #mayansmcedit #miguel galindo #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #danny pino #jd pardo #selene luna #ours #gifs #by kraina #userclayy #tuserlou #tuserrex #usershades #supervalcsi #pocfiction #filmtvcentral #popcultureds #latinesource

[hennyjwrites]

Thot Thoughts w/ Miguel Galindo

Miguel held a tight grip on your hair to keep you in place, on your knees in front of him.

He sighed as he pulled himself out of his pants, looking down at you. “See, you make me treat you like this querida. If only you learned how to shut that pretty little mouth.”

Your eyes were low while you held a pout of your face. “If only you learned to pay attention to your wife.” You mocked. Miguel chuckled. He loved your little attitude. He also loved the process of fixing your attitude.

He chuckled, before rubbing his tip across your cheek, trailing to your lips. Precum was on your lips and you tasted it when he pushed past your lips. Miguel guided you by your hair. He started off slowly, pushing himself further down your throat with each stroke in your mouth.

Shamelessly, you moaned against him, forgetting that this is a punishment. That's what Miguel wanted. He let you relax before he paused for a second. Without warning, he pushed himself back down your throat. He kept shoving himself down your throat. Slob, fell from your mouth to your chin and trailed down to your breast.

Miguel moaned out shamelessly , not caring if one of his many workers could hear him. Your mouth was like heaven. Miguel knew he was rough when it came to you, but that's how you both liked it. He hit the back of your throat once more and watched as you gagged and pulled yourself away from him.

Miguel leaned forward from his seat and smiled at you lovingly. You smiled back slightly. Your smile dropped as Miguel slapped your face before roughly grabbing ahold of your jaw. You whined at the slight sting and the roughness of his grip.

“You have the mouth and attitude of a whore from the street, but yet you can't live up to what you try to act like.” He spoke to you. He pushed your head back down into his lap and continued to speak. “I hate treating you like another slut but you have to understand mi vida, my wife wont talk to me like she doesn't have any sense.” His words don't match his actions. He spoke to you softly but the way he thrust into your throat was vigorous. Miguel was slightly stuttering over his words from the pleasure.

Your mind was blurry as you tried to please your husband. You whined as you listened to his words. You could feel him throbbing on your tongue, and by the way his hips stuttered it was a tell tale sign that he was going to cum.

“Be a good girl, honey. Be a good girl and swallow my cum.” His cum filled your now sore throat. You swallowed all of him, hoping to make him happy. You pulled away and smiled at him. He thought you looked beautiful, lips swollen, slob from him on your face, hair a mess.

He couldn't help himself, as he pulled you up into his lap. It helped that you didn't have on any panties as he sat you in him. You both moaned out as your pussy wrapped around him.

“Go on and move querida, let's finish getting this attitude in check.”

#black reader #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x black reader #mayans mc #mayans smut #miguel galindo smut

[sourceblog]

MAYANS M.C. (2018 - Present) 3x05 - 4x07

#mayans mc #danny pino #miguel galindo #edward james olmos #felipe reyes #angel reyes #sourceedit #mayansmcedit #by kraina #smallscreensource #usercreate #fyeahlatinos #pocfiction #dailymayans #filmtvcentral #userclayy #tuserlou #tuserrex #usershades #supervalcsi

[pascalispretty]

The Poetry of the Body: One

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

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

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

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

One: My Homeland Is In Your Eyes (ao3)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t like my terms-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @misscharlielulu, @avengersfan25

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

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

[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Part Three: “Bad Idea”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: It’s part three…expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, drinking, and drama.

Word Count: 5,900+.

A/N: I just wanted to thank my lovelies again for showing this story so much love. I had no idea people would love it this much. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks💓. Enjoy the chaos😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist:

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Inspired By:

Dark clouds filled the evening sky as a drizzle fell against your windshield. Your thoughts were adrift as you fought to make a proper decision. There were only two choices. Accept the offer and hope for a positive outcome, or leave immediately. The loud vibration of your phone halted your decision-making. Sucking in a shaky breath, you accepted the call. It was your best friend. The word hello barely left your lips as she began firing off questions.

“Did you make it to your destination safely? Are you sure it’s smart to be around him right now? Should you trust him?”

You cut your friend off.

“Sis, calm down. Let me answer at least one of your questions.”

“Seriously though, Y/N. How did he find you?”

“He didn’t find me, per se. We’re just in the same state, city, and establishment. Ironic as it may seem.”

“That’s just a little too coincidental for my liking. Look, just be careful and keep your guard up dealing with him. Y/N, you’ve got enough shit going on. There’s no need to fan the flames. Your situation is bad enough. Accept his offer but keep your head on a swivel. Now, take your ass inside that building. Call me once you’ve settled for the night. Do you need money, sis?”

“How’d you know I’m sitting in the car? Yes, I’m good on cash. I withdrew half of our joint account before I left town. I should’ve emptied the account and made his damn pockets hurt.”

“It’s my job to know. You’re my best friend. I agree you should’ve drained that account, girl.”

You inhaled, attempting to calm your nerves, “alright. I’m going in. I’ll call you later with an update. Love you, sis.”

Even after ending the call, you spent a few more minutes in the driver's seat of your vehicle. 

Oh, fuck this. Let me just see where it goes. It’s been years since I’ve been here. It wouldn’t hurt to accept the help of a familiar face.

Exiting the car, you enabled the lock as you walked towards the luxurious hotel lobby. Halfway across the threshold, you felt his presence to your left.

“I was starting to think you had changed your mind. It was as if I could see the thoughts racing through your pretty little head from the lobby window, sweetheart. I’m glad you decided to accept my assistance.”

“I’m not sure I’ve decided to do so. Listen, I appreciate the hotel recommendation, but don’t you think it’s odd, maybe even inappropriate?”

“Why’s that? Are you afraid that I’ll inform your husband of your whereabouts?”

“Cut the shit. Why are you being so helpful? What’s the real motive here?”

“Listen, believe it or not, we’re family. Just because you’re mad at Rio doesn’t mean I should just leave you out here all alone. I don’t plan on telling him I saw you. There are no plans to notify him of your location. I’m securing a place for you to stay because I wouldn’t feel right leaving you to sort everything out alone. I have no idea why you’ve left my dumbass cousin. The fact that you packed your bags and just left suggests it’s serious. I won’t pry. Tell me or don’t, but I will secure and pay for your entire stay here. No arguments.”

“If Christopher finds out you’re helping me stay away from him, he’ll explode. The two of you already have a strenuous relationship.”

“If he finds out. Then he’ll just have to get over it. I honestly don’t give a damn, darlin’.”

“What are you even doing in California, Nick?”

“I’m here on business.”

“What kind of business?”

“I’ll answer that once you explain why you left your husband. What exactly did my cousin do, sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes at Nick, you walked over to the hotel clerk. She greeted you with a warm welcome, offering you help. Giving her your last name, she informed you that you were staying in the penthouse. About to object and ask for something smaller and less expensive, Nick interjected.

“It’s already been taken care of, cousin.”

Your head snapped in his direction with an incredulous expression.

“Are you out of your mind? No, on second thought, you're not paying for my stay here. I’m not letting you put me in a penthouse and allow people to think I’m your whore. Do you have any idea how that will look, Nick? Are you crazy? You must want Christopher to kill both of us. No wonder you two don’t get along. You love pushing his buttons. The whole damn family’s crazy.”

“Are you finished with your little tirade?”

“I see that you’re also a sarcastic asshole like Christopher.”

“Did you miss the point where I had no intentions of Rio finding out? Just take the room, and enjoy the luxury. I’m sure my cousin has been putting you up in the nicest of places since the day he laid eyes on you.”

“I’m starting to feel like you’re implying I’m a gold digger. Tread lightly. I’d hate to have to kick you in the nuts. Now do us both a solid and change the damn room. Be glad that I’m accepting your help, to begin with.”

“I think it’s best if you know something. I'm just as pushy and controlling as your old man, sweetheart. We both know I’m helping and paying, no matter what you say.”

“Switch. The. Damn. Room,” you growled.

“Fine. Jesus, you’re just as stubborn as your husband.”

“That offer to kick you in the balls still stands. Please stop tempting me.”

“I have a business meeting here at the hotel. I made arrangements for my associate to stay here for a few days. He’s a man of luxury. I’ll switch the rooms for the two of you.”

“Yes, do that, Nick.”

“I’ve got to admit I enjoy hearing you say my name.”

You had grown tired of his antics and landed a sharp jab on his chest.

“One more inappropriate comment and I’ll leave to figure things out myself. I don’t know what you think is happening between Christopher and me, but we are married.”

Not for long, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Even if I were single, I wouldn’t give you a second glance, honey. Please do not fool yourself.”

“Why is that? Am I not rough enough around the edges, like your hubby?”

“You honestly want to know?’

Nick shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “sure, why not?”

“You’re overly arrogant, and your sense of entitlement is ridiculous.”

He started to interject, but you pressed on.

“I’m no fool, Nick. Deep down inside, you’re hoping that somehow, some way, Rio finds out. I see you. You’ve been sparring with my husband his entire life. You’ve spent your life trying to prove that you are the bigger, better man than Rio. What’s the difference between you two? Nick, you’ve spent your entire existence having everything handed to you. All while my husband did the heavy lifting, grunt work, and the bids. Or have you forgotten about that? Rio earned his empire. He got it out the mud. You just sat and watched, sticking your hand out to take a chunk when it was all said and done. While Rio can be arrogant, it’s warranted. He can talk his shit and back it up.”

Although I’m pissed to the highest level and treading the waters of divorce, I’ll be damned if he sits here and insults everything Rio has worked hard to accomplish.

“Do not flatter yourself. You’re nowhere near half the man my husband is.”

Even if he is a cheating ass bitch.

“Such a beautiful, passionate rebuttal, and yet you’re here. With me, might I add, after walking out on mi primo. Let’s just call a truce. I’ll try not to flirt with you, but I won’t lie and say my cousin doesn’t have good taste,” he teased.

I just insulted him, and he’s still thirsty. Lord, help me.

“For the love of God, Nick!”

“Okay, I’ll back off. Now let’s get you settled into your room, shall we? I’ll accompany you back to your car. Carry your bags up to your room,” he responded, throwing his hands up in surrender.

With squared shoulders, you lifted your chin into the air.

“That won’t be necessary. Don’t you have a meeting to get to?”

“Why do I feel you’re trying to get away from me? Are my good looks too much of a temptation for you?”

“Boy, stop! Don’t nobody want your shallow, overconfident, big-headed ass.”

“You’re so mean, mama.”

Did this motherfu-I know he didn’t just say that! Now he’s pushing it!

Moving closer, you crowded his space. The smirk dancing along the corners of his lips proved he knew the nickname he used was out of line and disrespectful. You looked around. Making sure he’d be the only one to hear what you had to say. Through clenched teeth, your words dripped with venom.

“So long as we both have breath in our bodies, don’t you ever make the mistake of calling me that again. Please do not get it confused or twisted. Rio did not marry a weak bitch. Call me that again. I’ll do Rio a solid and spray you full of bullets myself.”

“Aww, why not, sweetheart? Does it make you miss hubby?”

“Keep playing with me, Nick. It won’t be funny to you when I want to laugh too. I’m over this conversation. Thank you for the room. Now, leave me alone. Go make yourself someone else’s problem.”

“Fine. I’ll come by and check on you later, prima.”

“No, you will not. Goodbye, Nick.”

If Christopher finds out about this, he will lose the little sense he has left. Wait, why do I even care? It’s fuck him from here on out.

“I Gave You More Than You Wanted. I Gave You More Than You Needed. So Tell Me, How Does It Feel To Lose The One You Believe In?”

-Chloë.

The suite turned out to be very spacious and elegant. Much better than the cramped room you had stayed in the night before. You trudge through the doorway of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. It hadn’t taken long for you to unpack and settle in. Fresh out of a hot shower, you mope to the bed and fling yourself backward. Thoughts race through your head. You hadn’t taken the time to soak in everything. You were too busy trying to run from the situation at hand. Yes, there had been many crying sessions and stewing in anger. Now that you were in another state and settled, it hit you.

Did I just walk away from everything I’ve known for the last four years? The one person I trusted with my heart. My soul. He ripped it out and stepped on it. The audacity. The unmitigated gall to play with my love and emotions. Did he? Rio did that shit, right? How can he possibly have a reasonable explanation?

“You Never Miss A Good Thing ‘Til It Leaves You. And Finally, I Relaize That I Need You. I Want You Back. Baby Girl, I Need You Back. Gotta Have You Back, Babe.”

-Usher.

Just as the tears started to roll down your face, a call came through. You huffed, tapping the ignore button. Seconds later, it started again. The call went unanswered a second time, and a text came through.

It’s me. Please answer your phone.

The phone lit up once more. With a heavy sigh, you accepted the call.

“What do you want, Mick? I don’t want to talk to him, and he knows that.”

“Since you won’t communicate with him. I’m in charge of finding out if you’re okay. I’d personally like to know myself. You good boss lady?”

“Mentally and emotionally, we both know the answer is no. Physically? I’m breathing and somewhat eating. That’s the best I can give you. I appreciate you checking on me. As for your boss? He can go fuck himself. Goodbye, Mick.”

“Hold up, boss lady. I need to see it for myself.”

Mick sent a FaceTime request. With an irritated sigh, you angle the camera so he’d only see your face and a white wall. You begrudgingly accepted the call.

“See. Just fine.”

He frowned as he looked at your red puffy eyes.  Mick could tell you hadn’t been sleeping much.

“Yes, I’m aware my eyes are puffy. I’ll be fine. Bye, Mick.”

Mick was about to plead with you to come home, but his face vanished from the screen. Your eyes sparked with resentment and anger as Rio appeared.

“Mama…”

“What part of I don’t want to speak to you don’t you comprehend,” you spat.

“Can you just fuckin’ listen to me?”

“You suddenly have so much to say! That’s because you no longer have me sitting at home. I’m no longer playing my role as your stupid little unsuspecting wife. No, not anymore. Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t call, don’t text me. Tell your boys to stop looking for me. There is nothing we need to discuss!” “Oh, I’ma keep calling and texting. Please, believe me. Mama, I will find you. You’re coming home; we gon’ work this shit out. Just let me explain everything. You’ll feel silly when it’s all said and done, darlin’.”

“You Didn’t Say It, But You Said It…”

-Chloë.

“Did you fuck that bitch, Rio?”

He looked at you with anger written on his face as his jaw flexed.

“That’s what the fuck I thought. Silence speaks volumes. Fuck out my face. Go find your whore and live a shitty life.”

“Ma-.”

You ended the FaceTime, not giving him another moment of your time.

I'm Going Out Of My Mind, And I'm Running Out Of Time. Oh, I Just Wish I Could Find You, Girl.

-Usher.

Rio stood there, rage coursing through his body. He gripped the phone in his hand tightly, “Fuck!”

“Anything I can do,” Mick questioned.

Rio took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He handed Mick his phone.

“Let’s take a ride. Red better have a plan. If I don’t get my wife back soon, it’s game over for her.”

“You think she’s the reason behind this?”

“It doesn’t appear that she knows what’s going on. We both know that her innocent deer-in-headlights expression can sometimes be a facade.”

“You’re right about that.”

“We have to find her. I have to fix this. Real shit, man, I need her. I love that stubborn ass woman.”

“Then let’s handle business and get her back.”

“Loved You More Than Ever, More Than My Own Life. The Best Part Of Me I Gave You, And It Was Sacrificed.

-Beyoncé.

Still reeling from the conversation, you tossed your phone across the bed. Everything was just too much. You were overflowing with anger, sadness, and grief. The betrayal of it all had you drowning. A sorrowful cry spilled from your lips as you curled into a ball. You remained in that position, cradling your face until sleep consumed you.

Hours later, your eyes fluttered open. The sun had set, and your room darkened from nightfall. Your feet flung off the side of the bed as a headache throbbed in your temples. The rumbles coming from your stomach echoed throughout the room.

I haven’t had shit since this morning. This stupid ass man got me going through it. I need a damn drink.

You called the front desk to ask if room service was still available. To your surprise, the clerk recommended the hotel restaurant. She explained that both tables and bar space were available. You thanked her for the recommendation as you dug through your wardrobe.

Let me at least look presentable. I can’t be walking around this nice hotel looking bummy. If I play my cards right, I may find my next husband. Nope, scratch that. Fuck these cheating ass men.

Rio sat slumped in the passenger seat with Mick at the wheel. Leaning back on the headrest with his hood pulled up. Rio sat there as his mind kept going over everything. They pulled into the park, waiting for dingbat and her crew. Once they were in sight, Rio gave his boy a nod. Mick exited the car, exchanging duffle bags with Beth. She told him she would have the next one ready at the appointed time. 

“Did you find a way to handle the situation we discussed the other day?”

Beth shook her head with pleading eyes. She promised to find a way to get to the bottom of it. Mick nodded in reply. As she started to leave, Mick halted everyone’s movements.

“Backseat now. We’re going for a ride.”

With a frightened look, Beth started walking toward the vehicle. Mick stopped her again.

“Not you. I’m talking to you half pint,” Mick ordered, pointing at Annie.

Annie’s eyes stretched wide as the three women gawked at him. With a devious smile, he taunted, “don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of her.”

Beth walked over to the passenger window and pounded on it. She took two steps back when Rio rolled down his window. The look he gave stole the breath from her lungs. 

“Is there a problem, darlin’,” his question dripped with danger.

“I told you I would get you answers. I-I just need a little more time.”

“That’s cool, but you may want to watch your nephew for little sister. His mama’s going to kick it with Mick for a bit. Got a little side hustle for her.”

“I can do it.”

“Did I ask you to?” Rio snapped.

“Please keep her safe,” she whimpered.

“Get me that information. Baby sister will come back better than she left. Stay safe, Elizabeth. We don’t want anything bad happening to the little mama to be right? It’s not very responsible of you to be downing liquor bottles, don’t you think,” Rio questioned in a knowing tone.

Elizabeth looked at him with fear in her eyes.

“I notice everything, darlin’. We’re going to take a ride tomorrow. Just the two of us. Check on the little bambino.”

He rolled up his window before she could say anything else. They sped off, leaving Beth to explain everything to Ruby.

Not wanting to turn too many heads, you settled on a simple black dress. You figured it was appropriate, given that it matched your mood. The form-fitting bodycon paired well with the dark red heeled sandals and lipstick you sported. Checking that the room key was inside your handbag, you exited the room.

The hostess gave you a warm greeting. She granted your request for a seat at the bar. As you claimed your spot, the gentleman behind the bar asked for your drink of choice. His eyes had roamed your body from the minute you sat down. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. Prepared to answer his question with disinterest, someone stepped up next to you. Strong hands braced against the top of the bar. A silky baritone sounded, making your breath hitch.

Are you serious? Who else am I going to run into? This day is beyond me. Maybe it’s not him. I have to be trip-.

“She’ll have a whiskey sour. That’s what she used to drink whenever a frown touched that beautiful face.”

Yes. That would be the one and only.

You turned your head slowly to take in the familiar voice. His face was as beautiful as you had remembered it.

“Hello, mi amor. May I join you? I could use a drink myself.”

Confusion and shock danced across your face. You looked back and forth between the thirsty bartender and your long-lost friend. His eyes connected with yours as that handsome smile crept across his face. He signaled for the bartender to go ahead with the order. Taking the seat next to you, he chuckled at your expression.

“It’s nice to see you after all these years, querida. What brought you back here? Last I checked, you were happily in love. Are you and the husband here on business?”

Hearing him mention Rio snapped you out of it.

“Miguel,” you whispered.

His eyes crinkled as he gave you another beaming smile.

“It’s good to see you again. How have you been? Are you enjoying married life? What’s it been a year or two since the I Do’s?”

The smile that had occupied your lips for a moment faltered. Your eyes started to water as you looked away and faced the bar. Miguel’s hand covered yours gently. 

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Just as you were about to answer him, a familiar pain in your ass sounded off behind the two of you.

“Yes, prima. I’d like to know what’s going on as well. Most importantly, how do you know my associate here,” Nick questioned.

Nick waited for an answer as he sat there looking smug. A knowing look crept onto his face as if he had discovered a secret.

“How do you two know each-wait? Prima? You’re related to her husband?”

“What business are you two dealing in? Are you working with Rio, Miguel?”

Before he could answer, Nick answered for him.

“Relax, prima. It’s my business deal. Rio isn’t involved. We do have individual businesses. We butt heads too much to do everything together.”

“I wouldn’t do business with your husband without telling you, querida. Then there is the fact that we’ve never met in person. The meeting is my first encounter with your cousin. I’m sure you know Rio wouldn’t want to go into business with me.”

“And why is that? He used to tap that or something, prima? Maybe I should give Rio a call.”

“Are you interested in talking about business or not, Nick? That is the only thing that needs to be questioned or discussed,” Miguel responded in an aggravated tone.

“Hey, whatever you say, man. She knows I’m just teasing.”

“Then perhaps you should find someone else to aggravate. The lovely lady certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Is our table ready?”

“Yes,” Nick bit back.

“Then let’s get this over with. I do have other business to attend to. You have my attention for the next hour. We aren’t starting on a good note, wouldn’t you agree, Nick? You need to fix that. I assume the warehouse visit has been scheduled and prepped for tomorrow. Let’s make our way to our reserved table.”

“Right this way.”

Miguel’s hand gave your shoulder a light squeeze before he got up to follow Nick. 

“I’m sure you still have Nestor’s number,” he asked, tilting his head toward his security/cousin. 

“If you need anything, give me a call. It was a pleasure running into you, querida.”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded softly. Turning back to the bar, you downed the whiskey sour. Your fingers tapped the bar for another. The drink was halfway to your lips when Rio started blowing your phone up. With a deep sigh, you ignore it and turn your phone off.

“Bartender? Go ahead and bring me two more.”

The universe is funny as fuck. This man’s going to find me. I can just feel it.

You rubbed your temples as you contemplated where to go from here. One hour, four drinks later, you sat there wallowing in your pain. Thankfully you had made a conscious decision after the last drink to switch to a glass of red wine. Feeling buzzed, you decided it would be your last drink of the night. Taking your time with it, you nursed it for a while. Just as you had swirled the remaining liquid in its glass, Miguel reclaimed his seat from earlier.

“A penny for your thoughts, querida?”

Your eyes drifted from the stem of your wine glass to Miguel’s face. He noticed that you were slightly inebriated. His hand reached up and brushed your hair out of your face. The palm of his hand rested on your cheek.

“Don’t you have other meetings to get to?”

“I just wanted that smug asshole to hurry up and discuss the deal. The sooner we did that, the quicker your dear cousin would be gone,” he replied sarcastically.

“Hmm. Smug bastard, huh? That best describes his thick-headed ass,” you toast, downing the last of the wine.

“You shouldn’t be drinking at a bar by yourself, amor. I’ve watched half the men in here ogle you the entire time you’ve been here. Come. Nestor and I will escort you to your room.”

Miguel didn’t want to give you time to protest or continue drinking. He paid your tab and held his hand out. You stared at it for a moment.

“Though you’re wearing heels, those cute little legs still dangle from the stool. Come, sweetheart. I promise to be a respectable gentleman. I don’t make it a habit of approaching married women,” he chuckled.

Not giving it any more thought, your hand gently grasped as he helped you down. The elevator ride was quiet. That was until you blurted the one question that lingered in the back of your mind.

“Where’s your wife, Miguel?”

You noticed how his jaw ticked, nostrils flaring slightly.

“She had other plans tonight,” he answered.

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the elevator dinged.

“I do believe this is your floor.”

Miguel placed his hand on the small of your back. Nestor stepped aside, allowing you two to step out first. He asked for your hotel key as you walked down the hall. You turned the corner as you placed the key card in his hand.

“You said the first door on the left, right?”

“Ye-.”

You lost your train of thought as you started to panic. There was a large bouquet of yellow roses in front of your door.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong, querida,” Miguel asked as he rubbed the small of your back.

The worry in your eyes set off alarm bells in his mind. Miguel took a look and noticed the flowers. The distress about possibly working with Rio. The teasing from Nick. He turned to face you, blocking the view of your door. His hand caressed your face.

“Tell me the truth. Are you in danger? Did you leave your husband, querida,” he whispered as he searched your eyes for the truth. 

No longer able to keep the emotions bottled up, your lip trembled as the tears slipped down your face. You nodded slowly. Miguel frowned at the response. He pulled you into an embrace as you cried into his chest. His hands rubbed your back as he attempted to soothe you.

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments. Pulling back from his embrace, you wiped at your tears. Miguel’s hands slid up and down your arms.

“Did he hurt you,” he asked, jaw ticking again.

“Rio would never put hands on me. He-he.”

Unable to finish the sentence, a fresh set of tears spilled.

“Okay, okay. Shhh. I think I’m starting to understand. Come here.”

He embraced you again. Once he calmed you, Miguel escorted you to the door. He nodded at Nestor, signaling him to pick up the flowers. Unlocking your suite, he grabbed the flowers and followed you inside.

“Thanks for getting me here safely. Sorry, I just unloaded all my emotions on you like a crazy person.”

“It’s fine, querida. That’s what friends are for. We were close once. Lost time won’t affect that.”

His thumbs swept residual tears away. He bent to your feet and helped you out of your heels. Standing, he grabbed your hand and held it. His finger lifted your chin.

“Try and get some rest. Come deadbolt the door behind me.”

Following him to the door, you watched as he opened the suite door. Stepping into the hallway, he turned to speak with Nestor.

“Have one of the other men come and watch her door for the night. If it’s not me, no one gets in here. Don’t even let them knock. Watch the door until your replacement gets here.”

Nestor nodded in agreement taking his position in front of your door. Miguel turned to you, his hand running down your arm again.

“If you need me, I’m on the top floor. Just ask whoever is guarding the door to call me. Better yet, here. Call me if you need anything.”

Miguel handed you a card that had both his business and personal number.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll be fine, Miguel. Rio’s just adamant about us staying together. He would never physically harm me.”

“You can’t blame him for wanting to work it out. Any man would be a fool not to fight for you. Still, if you need me, call me.”

“Yeah, because Emily would just love that. She’s never been fond of me.”

“Don’t worry about her. I’m the least of my wife’s worries at the moment.”

No longer wanting to discuss his personal life, Miguel pecked your forehead.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Locking the deadbolt behind him, you made your way to the bedroom. Stripping out of the tight dress, you bundled up in a complimentary robe. Falling into the couch, you turned your phone back on. Six texts and two voicemails. You rolled your eyes. Noticing the flowers, you mumbled to yourself, “fucking Nick probably snitched. Little shit.”

You snatched the card from the bouquet and flipped it over. Your breathing sped up as your mind started to race.

What the fuck? I don’t need this shit. What next?

Hands trembling, you re-read the card.

“I see hubby’s out of the picture. Who’s going to protect you now? What better way to kick Rio when he’s down? He would probably be beside himself if his precious jewel came up missing. Stay safe, pretty lady.”

To top it off, now I have to run from his ops too? You have to be shitting me!

Snatching the door open, Nestor saw the look of fright in your eyes.

“The flowers aren’t from my husband. I’m pretty sure whoever sent them just threatened me. Tell Miguel I appreciate everything he did tonight, but I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

Nestor talked you down. He instructed you to grab anything needed for the night and lock up. In less than twenty minutes, Nestor was escorting you to Miguel. He was anxiously waiting for your arrival. His hands instantly cradled your face.

“You’re staying with me for the night. We’ll figure out where you’ll go from here in the morning. Sleep in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”

“That’s nonsense. I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, you won’t. No arguments.”

“Why are most men in my life so damn bossy.”

“They also seem to have the same types of occupation. You don’t seem to like men who like legal work, querida.”

“Ha, ha. You’re so hilarious.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Those mentioned tend to be extremely successful at it,” Miguel replied with a shit-eating grin.

“Anyway.”

The conversation was interrupted by yet another call from Rio.

“Look, I'm going to have to answer him. I’ve been ignoring him for hours now. I know his veins are about to pop out of his neck.”

You excused yourself, taking the call in his bathroom.

“For someone who’s always so busy, you sure are blowing up my phone. Go back to ignoring me, please. I don’t have the energy to go back and forth with you, Rio. I’m tired and stressed out.”

“Just come home, mama. I’ll leave and stay somewhere else. Just come home,” he slurred.

“Are you at that stupid bar that demands your attention as well? Go home, Rio. Sleep off the liquor.”

“I gotta be near you, mama. Who's going to protect you? What if someone tries to harm you while you’re not with me? I can’t live with that shit. I need my wife to come home. Come on, mama.”

“It’s a little too late to protect me now. Isn’t it? Don’t worry about me, Rio. I can handle this shit myself,” you snapped, quickly regretting the last sentence.

“Handle what shit, mama,” he barked.

Fuck.

He instantly knew something was up.

“It’s okay, Rio. I’m a big girl. Luckily my stupid ass husband taught me how to use a gun. You know I stay strapped.”

“Either come home or tell me where the fuck you are. I’m going to light whatever city you’re in up. Better yet, I’m about to spray any suspected target.”

“Don’t be stupid. There is no need to start a war on my behalf.”

“I’m not going back and forth about this anymore. Tell me where you are.”

“No, goodbye, Rio.”

“Don’t fucking hang-.”

Miguel stood propped against the door frame.

“I know he fucked up, but it sounds like he wants to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“Don’t, Miguel.”

He placed his hands up in surrender.

“If he can’t do that for you, I will.”

Yeah, cause my husband would just love that. Jesus, be a therapist. I need Iyanla to come and fix my life, bruh.

“I Can Understand Why You Want A Divorce Now. Though I Can’t Let You Know It, Pride Won’t Let Me Show It.

-Jay Z.

Rio had been sitting in his bar for a few hours. Though the argument made him even more aggravated, he took your advice. He wasn’t in the mood to take a chance at catching a DUI. Rio instructed Mick to drive him home.

He swaggered into the family room and lounged on the couch. The house was painfully quiet without your presence. Rio’s thoughts drifted to you as his chest tightened at the thought of you being in danger. Sighing, he closed his eyes in an attempt to shake the negative thoughts. Your scent still lingered throughout the house. Nothing seemed to help him shake the memories and intrusive thoughts. His eyes fluttered open, nostrils flaring. Rio was trying to be patient with you, but it was starting to wear thin. You could be mad for however long, but divorce was out of the question. Could he do a better job at loving you? Yes, and he was willing to do so. Would you be willing to give him another chance? 

Rio’s buzz had started to wear off. Blowing out a breath, he stared at a picture of you two. The frame on the console table contained a photo from your first anniversary. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked over to the bar cart. Throwing back another glass of brown liquor, he fixed one more and reclaimed his seat. He asked Alexa to play a specific song. The lyrics hit home as he nodded to the beat and recited them. Song Cry by Jay Z flowed through the entertainment system.

“They say you can’t turn a bad girl good, but once a good girl’s gone bad, she’s gone forever. Mourn forever. Shit, I gotta live with the fact I did you wrong forever.”

What happened to everybody deserves a second chance, mama? Damn, I miss my wife.

Sis can't catch a break, huh lovelies😩😆? I hope you all enjoyed part three. More drama to come in part four! I can't wait for you all to read what happens next. Can't say for sure when part four will be done and ready for posting. I'm still taking things slow. Please, please, please love, reblog, and comment. I would love to hear from you all. My ask box is open as well. I missed y'all, man!

Be sure to check out the playlist I created for this fic. It's on both Apple Music and Spotify. The links are towards the top of this post (in case you missed. Still adding to it, so if you have any song suggestions just drop an ask. The playlist is pretty lengthy and it's best on shuffle in my opinion. Thank you once again for all the support. Words can't express how appreciative I am. Love y'all🥹🫶🏾! Keep scrolling for another bomb-ass mood board (saved it for the end so it wouldn't spoil the reveal)🥰.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics

Taglist:

@4everbrookemarie @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @rio-reid-whoreee @abcdestinyyyy @hihellogoodbyebruh @sunshine-flower @lemmewritesomeish @catxo @naughtyslashers @realhotgurlshit @peaches007 @gardenof-venus @aizawash0e @minton131 @novaniskye @90sisthenew80s @cjricks98 @skyesthebomb @myownworstenemydw @lifeofthelovelyone @tashawar @gabbywontlose @skelly-baby @adg1115 @blessedboo @fandomcitysstuff @drinaj @being-worthy @sxkxna @elliesrealgf @batgurl42 @gotbeefbitch-blog @thedopestblackgirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @memeaaaa @djconde58 @astoldbychae @fineanddandy @1andonlytashae @alertyoulikeitsamber @blackmissfrizzle @darqchilddaydreamz @heytaewrites

#berberriescorner #are you listening? #part three #bad idea #series #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x y/n #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #black writer #spotify #daddy rio #miguel galindo #daddy miguel #rich papi #danny pino

[imagineredwood]

"Enjoying the fruit?"

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel Galindo x female reader

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: Triggering content possibly; read with caution. Dark Miguel, could be seen as kidnapping if you squint, more like false imprisonment really.

A/N: This idea came from booktok and also prompts from this prompt list

You hummed as you swallowed the sweet fruit, your finger coming up to wipe away the dribble of juice that ran down your chin. The fruit Miguel got you was always sweet. The sweetest actually. He made sure of it. All of your food was always tried and tested before it made it to your plate to ensure you only ever got the absolute best of the best. Miguel was just like that when it came to you. With most things actually. 

You always had the sweetest fruit, the freshest veggies, the purest juices, the prettiest dresses.

Miguel loved you in dresses. 

He loved the way the style of the dress could change your energy. How the soft flowly dresses made you want to sit by the window and bask in the sunlight, maybe open the sliding door to feel the wind blow the fabric against your skin. 

How tighter dresses that were so short you could barely sit in them made you sometimes blush and rub your thighs together. Sometimes they were just nightgowns, plain but soft and cozy, making you feel ethereal and docile. 

You only ever wore dresses for that reason. Because that's what Miguel liked; so that's what he bought you. That's what your wardrobe consisted of. 

Your dress today was lilac, soft, and light against your skin. It was warm and ran a little past your knees, leaving your feet and ankles exposed. You shook your foot, the chain jingling against the shackle and frowned at the noise. 

Sometimes you forgot about it. It wasn't too heavy, light enough for you to be able to move around the house, but heavy enough that you had felt like a boulder was tied to you when he had first put it on. Now with the months that had passed, you were used to the feeling, sometimes the sight being what reminded you when the hem of your dress was shorter.

That and when you forgot and tried to venture out of the room. He allowed you a good bit of freedom. He let you go wherever in the house you wanted really; you just had to be secured. Metal hooks were bolted into random hidden areas of the house. You were currently stuck to the one fastened to the underside of the granite coffee table. 

It hadn't always been like this. Once upon a time, you had been able to walk around the entire house on your own, from room to room, inside to outside, then back again. You had been his little perfect girl, always on his arm to events or dinners. It had been going so well. 

That was until you had tried to leave him. 

It had been a small fight. Simple really. 

He had canceled on you and your pre-planned dinner date plans to have a business meeting for the third time that month and you had been angry. So you grabbed your purse and keys and left. 

You hadn't actually been leaving the relationship. You were simply taking a break. A night to yourself to drive around and blow off some steam. You hadn't told him that though and when three in the morning had rolled around with no sight of you, his guards patrolling the streets for hours looking for you with no such luck, he had been sure that you were leaving him for good. Gone like a thief in the night. No call, no text, no note. Just gone. 

And boy had it made him angry. 

After all he had done for you? The gifts? The wine? The vacations? The love? The adoration? The worship?

Oh, angry was an understatement, and the disarray in the living room had been a testament to that. Flipped tables and scattered shards of glass.  

You had returned early the next morning, of course, never having planned to truly leave. All you had needed was some time to cry and cool down. You had gotten that and now had calmed down considerably, ready to return to your husband and home. 

And that was how you had ended up with the shackle. 

Placed onto your ankle while you slept.

Your departure had been the straw that broke the camel's back and Miguel had become unhinged then, and swore he would never let you leave and put yourself into harm's way again. Only he could truly love and protect you. No one else. And he had to make you see that. 

The sound of his voice from behind you broke you out of your reverie and you turned to face him.  

His eyes were warm and full of love as he looked at you, crossing the way over until he stood in front of you. He smiled down at you, his eyes trailing to your mouth where the juice from the dragon fruit had stained a bit. He reached up and rubbed at your chin lightly, eyes crinkling in the corners. 

"Enjoying the fruit?"

You nodded and offered a smile of your own, but it didn't quite reach your eyes and Miguel noticed immediately. 

"What's the matter?"

You hesitated and then shrugged as if to make it seem like it weren't a big deal. Looking down, you shook your foot, the chain jingling loudly in the silence of the room.

Miguel looked down and sighed before reaching up to cradle your cheek in his hand.

"It's for your own good, mi amor. You ran away. You could've gotten taken. Hurt. Killed. Or worse. There are plenty of men out there who are evil and would love nothing more than you pick you up and steal you away from me. I can't let that happen, you know that. I'll let you go when you understand this is where you belong." 

You nodded, easing into his touch. You'd asked before a handful of times and had gotten the same schpeal. It had been months now though. Surely you had earned his trust back by now? 

"I just hate this thing. I don't need it anymore. I'm yours, I know that. I always knew that. I just...I want to walk around free again." 

Turning back slightly to look out of the sliding doors longingly. 

"I miss swimming."

Miguel sighed at your longing look and tone before nodding gently. He softly took your chin into his grasp, turning you to face him again. His touch was gentle, but the gravel in his voice as he leaned his forehead against yours was anything but. 

"I'll take it off. But remember, I'll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter where you run, I'll catch you."

You nodded, knowing all of his words were true. You offered him a smile and just like that, his voice was silk again as he reached into his suit jacket and retrieved the little key. Sitting down, he patted his knee and you lifted your leg, placing your bare foot down onto his slacks. He slid the key in and looked up at you before turning it. 

"This is your last chance."

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry @kaykaysuh @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​ @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver​ @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​ @darklingveracruz @appropriate-writers-name​ @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo​ @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​ @xonickibaby @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​ @yosoynicolexo @mrsstevenbuchananstark @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​ @kaykaysuh @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia

Miguel taglist

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @maciiiofficial​ @jatriciaaa @black-repunzel99​ @ben-c-group-therapy​ @witchygagirl​ @xonickibaby @berniesilvas @myakai13​ @fanfictiontrash9​ @kaykaysuh @angel-121​ @90sisthenew80s

#mayans mc #imagines #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #tw imprisonment #miguel galindo imagine #yandere!miguel

[cinematv]

MAYANS M.C. (2018 - 2023) Danny Pino as Miguel Galindo and Clayton Cardenas as Angel Reyes Season 5, Episode 5: I Want Nothing but Death

#mayans mc #mayans mc spoilers #danny pino #miguel galindo #clayton cardenas #angel reyes #tv #by kraina #mayansmcedit #dailymayans #fyeahlatinos #userstream #pocfiction #filmtvcentral #tuserlou #supervalcsi #userclayy #usershades #userteri #tuserrex

[mrsamaroevans]

I Got You

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Reader.

Request: No.

Words: 770.

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

A/N: Gif not mine!

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“Put the gun down”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ez didn’t do it “I’m your family”

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

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

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

“I feel like I don’t know you”

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

“I don’t know you”

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

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

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

You killed your best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

“I got you, too”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

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

[plentyoffandoms]

Feb 2024 Author/Fic Recommendations

I am going to be treating this like my own personal library for my favourite stories, so that way, I can come back and read them again and again.

If I have someone's full Masterlist listed, that is because I love their work and everything they write is good to me.

Please heed peoples warnings & tags. Some stories are 18+.

Masterlist - @valeskafics (18+) truly read everything. Just chefs 💋 - House of the Dragon, Game of Thrones, Saltburn, Ewan Mitchell Character's, & so much more.

Mafia 141 - @groguspicklejar (18+) - Call of Duty

Business Trip - @drabbles-mc - Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Tear in My Heart: Mission Happily Ever After? - @im-just-a-mississippi-girl - Pairing: Single!Dad Matt Jackson x Teacher!Reader (wrestling)

Simon Says - @hidden-ember (18+) - captain john Price x fem!reader | simon Ghost riley x fem!reader - Call of Duty

Daddy's Biggest Fan (Drabble) - @theworldofotps - Hook x Reader (Wrestling)

Masterlist (18+) - @konigsblog - multiple COD characters. Hard to pick a fav story

Richie Jerimovich Masterlist (18+) - @foreveraimingtowardsthesky will read the others, by love the Richie stuff so far

Safe - @madhatterbri - AU Will Osprey

Photograph - @madhatterbri - AU Hangman Adam Page

#fic reccomendations #ewan mitchell characters #call of duty smut #cod smut #house of the dragon #hotd fic #hotd smut #multiple characters #wrestling #mayans mc #Miguel Galindo #will add more #wrestlers x reader #wrestler x f/Reader #richie jerimovich #the bear

[theesirenteller]

Grocery Store Paternity

↫↫↫ 𝕸𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝕲𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖔 𝖝 𝕺𝖈! 𝕬𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖙 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊 ↬↬↬

"D'elia? ¿Cómo estás?  Ha pasado mucho tiempo."

Who would've thought that going to pick up a bag of frozen plantains would have the average person end up running into the devil? Most wouldn't think so. But for D'elia Wren, she should've known this day would come. Especially being in Santo Padre. Miguel Galindo was the devil to many. and D'elia was no different. Even since she was fifteen, he terrorized her body and mind. His love for the gringa was the only thing that saved her. Funny how now that didn't feel like such a blessing. 

D'elia stared at him wide-eyed with a clenched jaw. Her throat dry as she bit at the side of her bottom lip. Her hands shook against the cool rod of the cart's handlebar. She could feel the warm and wet sensation of tears start to form in the corner of her eyes. 

"Mom, can I have these, please! It's watermelon and jalapeno flavored!" The familiar squeaky voice felt the comfort of an angel. Which caused D'elia to snap out of her frozen state and turn her attention to the child at her side.

"Uhm, yes of course." D'elia agreed with a forced smile. She nearly snatched the candy bag out of her daughter's hands due to how fast she grabbed it before tossing it into the cart.

Miguel raised an eyebrow as he looked at the child. Watching the two in both curiosity and amusement. When the girl turned to face him and offered the man a polite smile; he felt his world stop and his blood run cold. She had the same smile and eyes as his mother.  She had her mother's vibrant, golden-umber brown skin, full lips, and nose. Everything else screamed Galindo to Miguel. An uncanny resemblance that couldn't be ignored. 

"Hola! I'm-"

"Excuse us." The poor girl was cut off by her mother before she had the time to be polite. D'elia lifted the child up with little to no distress and rolled her cart with her other hand. "Mommy, I'm not a baby!", the child pouted and squirmed. Her whining could be heard through the aisles as well as her mother's hushing.

"Get Davante to pull up her records over the last eight to ten years. Have Chino and Mateo follow her." Miguel ordered Nestor before continuing on with his shopping. 

D'elia and the nameless child haven't left his mind since that day. Days turned into three weeks and three weeks turned into three months before Miguel decided to take action and make a trip to confront D'elia. He hadn't informed Emily of anything and he doubted she would care about his sudden coldness and distance from her. Cristobal was all that he focused on when inside the Galindo home. The thought of his son having an older sister and him having a second child, a daughter. One that wasn't from his wife was…complicated. Both joyous and frightening. He could've turned a blind eye. And a part of him wanted to. Cristobal had been in enough danger and Miguel didn't want to put another child through that. But, then again the girl was his child and D'elia. Well, she was damaged goods and one of four of his deepest regrets. The things he'd done to her in his early twenties whilst she was only a minor…made his stomach turn. But in a distorted way…he cared for her. The way a pet owner cared for its dog. Now, it was too late to turn a blind eye. Miguel was now in San Francisco, standing in front of a brownstone building with Nestor and Davante by his sides.  

The tumblers of the locks clicked open and instead of a look of surprise, D'elia stood there with an indifferent look across her face. "Three men for one woman? Gee, I really must be a lot to handle." she greeted with dry humor before stepping aside.

Miguel sent her a subtle smile before ordering Nestor and Devante to wait in the car. "You're hard to tame but not hard to handle." He replied. The two story apartment was more spacious than he imagined. Downstairs, the living room where he guided into was subtly minimalistic. Painted a deep shade of purple with various accents of burnt orange lingering around. Like the couch that he sat on.

"What do you know? What do you want, Miguel?" D'elia immediately questioned as soon as she was seated. 

"Do you welcome all your guests this way?" Miguel chastised. 

"You ain't no damn guest." She shot back.

A rasped chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head "Fair enough." he then smoothed out his black suit jacket, "I know Alejandra is my daughter. I know she's eight years old and was born in Iowa. Mainly, one of those witness protection programs. I know you ratted out that whorehouse on the outskirts of Santo Padre to get you and her out of their…and away from me." his thumbs brushed over the gold ring on his fingers.

"She might be your daughter by blood but she's not your kid." D'elia replied stubbornly. "And your deep dive turned out to be right. That whore house and bitch Maria were the reasons kids like me were offered up to assholes like you. Just because you brought a little designer and some expensive jewelry around me doesn't mean you weren't as sick as the rest of those bastards who came around." her tone seething with venom and disgust.

"Fifteen was hardly a kid and don't you forget anyone one of those girls would've been happy to take your spot." Miguel argued.

"And I wish it had been one of them." D'elia hissed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two of them. The pair now glaring at one another with mixed emotions.  Miguel's left eye slightly twitched and his expression sat cold until he smiled. 

"Look, I don't want any trouble D'elia. I simply want what every man wants…his family together. You don't have to be in Santo Padre but Alejandra will know I'm her father and she'll know her brother and all of the Galindo family." The smile across his lips never matched the dark expression within his eyes.

 He stood up from his seat and stalked his way towards her which caused D'elia to tense up. "And I'd hate for her to be brought into the family without you. A girl needs her mother and well..step-mothers can be a hard adjustment at her age." His large palm patted against D'elia's shoulder as he placed a kiss on her cheek, "You look beautiful by the way."  his warm breath hit the shell of her earlobe.

D'elia tightly gripped at the sides of her loveseat as her blood ran cold. She fought back tears of anger and instead nodded her head. "Okay." If he wanted to play…then they could play.

"Great," His smile now dazzling and bright, "I'll be in touch so make sure to answer your phone." with that Miguel made his way to the foyer before letting himself out. The thought of getting rid of Emily and starting his family over was fresh in his mind.

#Miguel Galindo drabble #miguel galindo #mayans mc #mayans mc fics #mayans fanfic #mayans fx #danny pino #angst drabble