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#angel reyes x reader
imagineredwood · 2 months
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Get Some Sleep
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Summary: Your neighbor Angel is very protective. Very.
Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader
Warnings: Dark/yandere Angel, mentions of a mean ex, breaking and entering technically, blood
A/N:I...I don't know where this came from. It just happened as I conjured up ideas about being chased in the woods 👀
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You blink once.
Twice.
A third time.
Then a fourth.
Your eyes seeing the scene in front of you clearly, yet your brain entirely unable to process what being fed into it. There’s a man sitting across the room in your chair but it’s dark, and you can’t see who it is. It’s just a shadow, shoulders broad, one leg brought up bent to rest crossed against the other knee. You can hear your heart’s every beat in your ears, pounding in your fear. You sit still, unsure what else to do, hoping that it’s just a pile of clothes that looks super scarily like a figure.
But you emptied all of the clothes out of that chair today when you were cleaning.
“Hello?”
Your voice sounds foreign, raspy and stupid.
If this were a horror movie, you’d be laughing at the girl on screen. But you don’t know what else to do. And just when you’re sure that you’re simply hallucinating, a voice answers you back.
“Hi, baby.”
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and despite your brain recognizing the voice, you can’t put a face to it. The term of endearment has a shiver running through you and you reach over to turn on the lamp in a panic. You spin your head back, a whimper dying in your throat as you can see him fully now.
“Angel.”
He smiles tightly, then it’s gone again, eyes dark as they keep staring at you.
Your panic settles, thankful that it isn’t a knife wielding stranger in your home, watching you while you sleep. Eyes settling down to his hand, you catch the glint of metal.
No, it’s just a knife wielding neighbor that’s watching you while you sleep. The question leaves your lips before you can stop it.
“What are you doing?”
You tried to keep your voice even but it’s shaky on the last word. You can see small splatters of red something dried on his knuckles, a few on his cheek. He shrugs, eyes still on you.
“Your ex showed up. Tried to get in.”
You swallow, the mere mention of the cruel man making your heart quicken again. Angel doesn’t allow you time to fret.
“He’s gone. I took care of it.”
He lets his crossed leg slide back down until both booted feet are flat on the floor, his body straightening out a bit.
“He won’t come here again. He won’t ever hurt you again. I promise. You don’t have to worry about him.”
It’s a whirlwind of emotions as you try to convince yourself that maybe he doesn’t mean what you think he means. Feeling relief, yet worry at the same time.
“What did you do, Angel?”
His eyes are soft as they look at you, if not a little unhinged.
“Don’t worry, mi amor. Nothing for you to worry about.”
You swallow and the noise is audible in the silence of the room. He sucks his teeth and then stands, putting the knife back in it’s sheath, stalking towards you. He won’t hurt you. You’re almost certain. But his walk is still reminiscent of whatever happened while you were asleep, and you swallow again as he comes up to the side of the bed, towering over you. His clean hand is gentle as it presses against your chest right below your throat and pushes you to lie back down.
Your head is swimming, foggy from the rush of adrenaline and remnants of sleep, still wondering how your beautifully rugged neighbor has managed to get into your home and what transpired in your home when he caught your ex trying to slither his way inside. You stare up at him from your pillow as his hands come to tug at the cord of your lamp, switching it back off and leaving you in the dark, only the moonlight illuminating his face.
“Get some sleep. You’ll be safe.”
When you wake up again, it’s nearly 8AM and the night’s events come flooding back in, your body sitting up straight, eyes immediately going over to the chair in the corner. You breathe out a huff when you find it empty, and you wonder if maybe it had only been a dream. A weird, hyper-realistic dream. There’s no sign of the biker neighbor who always seems to be there whenever you need help and you’re convinced that maybe, your brain has made the entire thing up. You stand, making your way to the bathroom, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. You go about your morning routine like normal, eyes searching for evidence every now and then, but you don’t find anything to suggest that you were anything over than alone last night. You chuckle, almost embarrassed, thinking of how ridiculous the entire thing is. It isn’t until you’re at the sink getting breakfast ready that you notice a bulky silver ring sitting in the dish, left to dry and looking extremely clean.
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General taglist
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady
Mayans MC taglist
@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​
@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002
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bumblesimagines · 7 months
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“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”
“i’d tap that.”
“your ass is your best quality.”
Angel Reyes
“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”
“i’d tap that.”
“your ass is your best quality.”
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
reminder that i do have a ko-fi if anyone has ever wanted to tip me!
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"Angel, what do you think of me?" It wasn't everyday you asked Angel Reyes for his opinion, but one disastrous date had left you feeling down and desperate for at least some comfort. Angel blinked at you, lips pressed to the rim of his bottle and brows slowly knitting in question. "Do you think I'm boring? Hopeless and destined for nothing?"
“Who the fuck said that? You’re great.” Angel scoffed and took one last swing of his beer, emptying the bottle completely and shoving it in the direction of the nearest prospect.
"I had a date last night and they said I was boring." You revealed in a mutter, a soft sigh slipping past your lips. Your first date in years and it ended with tears, wine, and ice cream. Angel winced.
"Fuck 'em. They don't know what their missing out on."
"What are they missing out on, Angel? I serve beers to criminals for a living and only have a one bedroom apartment to my name." You groaned and slumped down on the bar, face burying into your forearms. Angel exchanged a glance with the amused yet silent Ez beside him.
"Well, for starters, your ass is your best quality." Ez elbowed his side. "And, you have a great sense of humor. Besides, not everyone can serve beer to a motorcycle club and not piss themselves."
You laughed into your arms and lifted your head with a small smile. "My ass is my best quality."
"Exactly. I'd tap that."
"I'd be flattered but you'd fuck anything that breathes and has a hole, Angel."
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saturnville · 4 months
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I have to be that person for a second. I have released 5-6 fics in the last two weeks. why? because I fed off the love and interaction I was given. when you take the time to appreciate and interact with writers AND their content, they're more enticed and more motivitated to produce more content. so as you prepare to ask a creator to feed you more content, ask yourself if you're taking the time to REBLOG, like, and comment on their work.
thanks again for your guys' support. it pulled me out of a writing slump <3
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kindnessisweakness2 · 10 months
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Masterlist!!
Delusional (Jax Teller X OC!)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28
*** (Jax Teller X OC!) - Havent worked out a name for this yet!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
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Perfect Chaos (Angel Reyes X OC!) 
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
You Were A Bet (Angel Reyes X OC)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 
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volvaofowls · 17 days
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Mayans crushing on/ being infatuated with a younger reader
This is my first time writing for Mayans. I know there are many fans of the show but I feel like there is not enough people writing for it and showing it love.  
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Note:  I roughly guessed what the guys ages would be at the beginning of the series based on their apperance and actors' ages. I would love to know how old you think they are!
Bishop – 49  
Taza – 62  
Tranq – 44  
Riz – 37  
Creeper – 41  
Gilly – 36  
Coco – 34  
Angel – 30  
Ez – 26 
Bishop – He didn’t have any qualms about his attraction to you in the beginning. Walking up to you when you were at the clubhouse and flirting with you, saying it was good to see you around. He didn't think too much about it, he likes the way he feels when you are responding to him in a positive way. Bishop lies to himself, he doesn’t purposefully seek you out in the crowd, but Taza points it out for him - "Don't worry Prez, your girl is outside, having a smoke with Gilly". - And that phrase hits him; the fact that someone has noticed his interest in you, and more so called you "his girl" - that spreads warmth in his chest. He wants you to be his girl, but he is not sure how you feel about it. Sure you reciprocate his attention, smile at him and spend more time with him than other members of MC, but it doesn't mean you want anything more with him than friendship. The age gap is large, Bishop could be your father; and the potential comments that would follow make him shrudder, yet the thought of you in his arms makes him think that he could deal with being the butt of the jokes for some time.
Taza – Taza thought that love is not for him anymore. But the familiar butterflies are starting to dance in his belly again when you laugh at his joke. He loves the feeling of it, but the moment he realises it he gets scared. He is not ready for it, he didn’t think it is possible, he is too old and commited too many sins to be rewarded with these emotions. Taza wonders what he can possibly offer you? His life is filled with violence and loneliness.But then he takes out his phone and sees your name across the screen Che thinks that maybe he can give it a try.  
Tranq – Tranq is a rough man, for the majority of his life he had only his mother and the club. He is "El Pacificador", a giant of a man, always in the epicentre of fights. Even though he is not the loudest and meanest in the club he thinks he might be too imposing for you, scare you away. Let alone the fact that he is in his 40's. Still, when he is next to you Hank’s increased heart beat drowns out the doubts. Against his wishes the softer side of him comes out. The way you lean on Tranq's shoulder when you are tipsy, or when you ask specifically for his help with your car makes him feel special, and he never wants to let go of this feeling. Quite the opposite, he feels insatiable, he is hungry for your affection and Hank wants more of it. He is not a greedy man, he shares everything in life with his club, but you are someone Hank wants to keep all to himself.
Riz – Michael has been disillusioned with life long ago, many people in his life shunned him; only in the brotherhood of Mayans did he find the solace. Riz craves love, family and companionship is something he always secretly wanted. Maybe that's why he was always a ladies man - trying to fill a void in his life with someone, something. When he met you for the first time, it was hard to avert his eyes from you. You were like the smell of rain in summer before the thunder strikes, Riz felt that when you stepped into the clubhouse you brought change with you, and it was just for him, and he welcomes this feeling with an open heart.
Riz knows he likes what he is seeing and he wants you to like him as well. He just needs his chance to prove that he can make it work, and he does what he does best, trying to smooth talk you. Offering you a drink and showering in compliments. He wants you to have a good time with him, he sure does with you. Once you jokingly called him an "old man", Riz quickly shot back that he prefers "daddy" instead, laughing at your shy expression. Age is not a problem for him, not when it comes to you and what the two of you could have, and he is willing to show it to you.
Creeper – Creeper didn’t really think that romantic love was for him. Since childhood there was nothing but darkness staining his life, like he is punished for doing something in his past life and can never repent. So Neron never expects gifts from live; he takes, but only gives. He gives his loyalty and time to his club and he gives his love to you, Creeper doesn't feel like he is allowed to receive any back from you.
Neron feels disgusted with himself and his want for you. You are almost too clean for him, Creeper doesn't have the right to mess you up. He tries to avoid you, but it’s as if you are always seeking him out, sipping on water with him at the parties, forgoing the alcohol. All the time you are asking him about his tattoos, and one time while planning your own you reach out and touch his forearm where a faces of women are depicted. Neron feels burned, but its amazing, he wants to keep your hands there, on him, interested in him. He is scared of rejection, he wants your love, he is ready to trade anything in his poor life in order to be yours.
Gilly – Gilly is know for “disarming” ladies, but it was a shock to him when you swooped into his heart and disarmed him. This young woman, too young for him comes and can out-do him in telling dirty jokes? Who are you? And you are playfully offering to arm-wrestle him, losing instantly. But he loves it, he feels like a teenager again, trying to show off infront of you. You have him wrapped around your finger and you don't even realise it. Other guys are teasing him in good fun, but when one day Coco jokes “you better act up brother or all the younger ones will steal her from under your old nose” Gilly laughs with him but it makes him think “oh shit…. I don’t wanna lose her to anyone”.
Coco – He was a little apprehensive at first about his feelings for you. You have less of an age difference with Letty than with him. He thinks that what he is feeling for you is wrong, even if you are a grown person. Coco always tried to stay away from the things that he cares for, it’s easier that way, he doesn't hurt anyone but only himself that way. You are precious to him, you care for him and Letty seems to like you. He already made all the guys in the club aware that he is interested in you and not to treat you badly. When members from other charters come and you are there, he makes sure to be near you or to keep an eye on you. You should be treated with the outmost respect and gentleness. Gentleness is a funny word for Coco; mainly because nothing in his life is, but he wants to learn it for you.
Angel – Angel stopped caring what other people think long time ago. He feels like he always has to prove himself to others and its never enough. So when you praise him, Angel can't even stop himself, he is floored. You think he is amazing, and you support him when he has a bad day. You are younger, but he feels like he has to look up to you. You are showing him the way of how to live life without being afraid of rejection. Angel thought he is brave, but he relearns the defenition of it when he is with you. He doesn't see the age gap between you as a boundary, because there is so much you bring to his life. And Angel wants for the first time in his life too repay that affection, he wants to make it his mission to worship you and elevate you. You are his guardian angel.
Ez – He hasn't been lucky in love, EZ knows he falls in love fast and hard, but with you he feels like he is falling even harder. Even though your age gap is not too big, he feels like you have whole life ahead of you, he doesn't want you to be tied to him. There is so much you could be doing, travelling, things that EZ cannot join you on. But he is aching for you to choose him over everything else, although he will never admit it, as it will be too selfish. It feels like his life is fixable when you are together and he doesn’t have to just survive anymore, with you he can live.
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bullet-prooflove · 7 months
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Problem Child: Angel Reyes x Reader
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Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics
Sequel to Valeria
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Ten minutes…
Ten minutes is what you allow yourself to grieve, to cry, to feel all of the emotions that are coursing through your system in the aftermath of the revelation that Angel has a daughter.
It’s agony, this feeling in your chest. You’ve felt it before after your Nana died and you feel it again as you sit in your car outside of Angel’s house. Your chest’s tight, and you think about that baby, left all alone on the porch, the same way you were all those years ago.
Anything could have happened. Someone else could have taken her, the two of you may have decided to go out instead, Angel may have come over to yours. Lord knows how long she could have been out there. These are the thoughts that ramble through your head as you sit there with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.
There is no doubt that the baby is Angel’s. You’ve seen pictures of him as a child and Valeria is the spitting image of him. You wonder where this leaves the two of you, if Skylar genuinely couldn’t cope or if she did this to teach him a lesson.
She’s your problem now… The letter had read.
Barely a couple of weeks old and already labelled a problem.
You think your mother must have said something similar to your Nana when she’d dropped you off.
You wipe the tears away from your cheeks with the back of your hand, before tilting the rearview mirror to face you. You stare back at your reflection and take a deep breath.
You know what you have to do, someone needs to take control because you know right now that Angel isn’t in a condition to do it. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him, you know he’s not going to cope, not on his own. He needs some stability, someone who can remain firm, who can guide him when he falters.
You pick up your phone and thumb through the contacts until you find the name that you’re searching for.
“Felipe. It’s me.” You say when he picks up the phone. “Angel needs you.”
***
You’re not coming back. Angel knows that and it devastates him. It feels like his whole life is crashing down around his head, like he can’t catch a second to breath. He cradles the baby to his chest, his lips brushing over her soft skin. He has to push all of that aside, he has to think about Valeria because she has to be his priority right now.
His gaze comes to rest on his father. Felipe is seated at the kitchen table, the letter from Skylar clasped in his hands as he studies it.
“Lila’s not coming back.” Angel says quietly.
“Give her time.” Felipe says as he sets the letter down. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Angel shakes his head because he knows this is too much. He can’t ask you to take on a baby. The two of you have never talked about kids. He didn’t know if you wanted them or not. He figured there would be plenty of time to figure that out later.
He’s surprised when he hears the key in the lock. You mutter a curse as your hip bumps against the door handle, crossing over the threshold with a bassinet tucked under your arm and several bags filled with God knows what.
“Give Valeria here.” Felipe says, raising to his feet and reaching out for the baby. “Go help her.”
He’s already in motion, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he catches one of the bags just as it slips from your grasp. He takes note of the diapers and formula, before he takes the bassinet from you.
“I managed to get this stuff from Carmen, she keeps a bunch of it aside for new parents who are struggling to make ends meet.” You explain as you haul the other bags with you into the kitchen. “Bishop was there, he had a lot of questions, but I told him you’d call him tomorrow. He seemed to be ok with that.”
Angel doesn’t even know where to begin. The words catch in his throat and there’s an ache in his chest as he looks at you because even now, you’re still taking care of him, not just him but Valeria too.
“I think we have everything we need for tonight.” You say as you set the bags down on the table. “I can get the rest of the stuff on my list when the stores open up in the morning.”
“I thought…”
“I needed a minute.” You tell him quietly. “You know what happened to me, Valeria being dropped off like that…” You don’t have to say anything else. Angel gets it and so does Felipe. “I want to be there for her and for you. I want to be part of this little family.”
“Are you sure?” he asks you quietly, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek.
You nod your head before your arms wrap around his waist and you draw him close. It feels good to have you back in his arms, he finds the gesture reassuring. You’ve always been a port in a storm for him and the fact you’re here right now soothes him more than he would ever admit to anybody else.
“Yea.” You tell Angel, your fingertips toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I want this, I want this with you.”
“Ok Mi Reina.” Angel murmurs as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Let’s do it. Let’s be a family.”
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Handle Him
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Reader
Rating: M
Notes: Just some spice-adjacent thoughts for Angel that popped up this afternoon ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Not beta-read.
Warnings: Cursing; fluff; jealous Reader; fluffy kissy slightly possessive Angel; established relationship; no Y/N; the only physical trait mentioned is that Reader is shorter than Angel (it does not specify by how much)
Summary: You’ve always been on the quieter side. You’re not the type to flaunt your relationship in public. Angel knows. He knows that you’re likely to shy from his kisses around others—to squirm if his hands linger a little longer than usual on certain parts of your body. He respects it. He doesn’t push, or plead, or ply. 
That’s probably half the reason none of these women know about it—or if they’ve heard, the reason that they likely don’t believe it. 
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“You seen Angel tonight?” 
“Fuck yes. He seems wound tight.” 
“Kinda standoffish, too. He barely looked at Melissa when she went over there.”
“He’s barely been lookin’ at anybody lately.” 
“Gimme an hour, girl. We’ll handle him.” 
The insistence is chased with cackling and teasing purrs. You’ve heard this (or conversations like it) for as long as you’ve been hanging around the Mayans clubhouse. It’s nothing new—Angel is a hot commodity. But where those antics used to make you roll your eyes, they make you curl your nails into your palms now. No, Angel hasn’t been looking at anybody around the clubhouse. Angel’s been looking at you and only you for months now. 
You’d been skeptical that he would keep his eyes and his hands to himself at first, but by all accounts, he’s been loyal. It’s only been confirmed by the repeated complaints of the girls around the clubhouse. You could always turn around, throw your truth in their face, but they probably wouldn’t believe it. You’ve always been on the quieter side. You’re not the type to flaunt your relationship in public. Angel knows. He knows that you’re likely to shy from his kisses around others—to squirm if his hands linger a little longer than usual on certain parts of your body. He respects it. He doesn’t push, or plead, or ply. 
That’s probably half the reason none of these women know about it—or if they’ve heard, the reason that they likely don’t believe it. 
But hearing these women talk about him like he’s a prize to be won, like he can be lured into their arms or beds, lights in fire under you the likes of which you’ve never known. You glance over to him just in time to see him draining his beer. You stand, grabbing one of the same from behind the bar and striding over. Your righteous indignation wavers just a little as you pass the gaggle of women planning on handling him. You can feel their gazes following you, but you don’t let that slow you down. Your nerves are lessened as Angel catches your eye—as he gives you a wide smile and passes his cue over to EZ to hold. 
“Saw you go dry,” You hold the fresh beer out to him. 
“Thanks, baby,” He murmurs, taking hold of the bottle. 
“You need anything else?” 
“Nah, I’m alright. You good?” 
“Mhm,” You nod. Then, summoning all of your courage, you reach up. You curl your shaking hands around his cut, reveling in the crinkle of the leather beneath your palms as you draw him down. You only just catch sight of his eyes widening before you close your own, lips pressing to his. You hear the guys whooping around you, and the thud of Angel setting his beer down before his hands smooth over your hips, giving them a squeeze. You grin as he uses his grasp to draw you just a little closer. You can only imagine those women are getting quite the eyeful. You slip a hand from his collar to smooth over the side of his neck, giving him a squeeze before drawing back, gently breaking your kiss. 
Angel gazes down at you with wide, stunned eyes, blinking almost dopily before EZ whacks his arm with the pool cue and a mutter of, “It’s your turn.” 
You step out of Angel’s arms and move over to the short cabinet near the table, pushing yourself to sit on it, beside his beer. You don’t say a word as Angel takes the cue, or as he walks around the table to position his shot. You just smile as he lines it up, and catch his eye as you pick his beer up and teasingly tongue the rim. He spits a curse, just narrowly missing his shot. You smile with true bashfulness, muttering an apology as he walks back to you. 
“One’a the guys put you up to this, huh?” He asks, palming and spreading your thighs to stand between them. “Trying to get me to fuck up the game?” 
“No,” You giggle. “That was an honest mistake.” 
Angel grunts, dipping his head and nosing along your jaw. “That’s honest bullshit.” He presses his face into your neck, and you shiver as he draws in a deep breath, then groans. 
“Always smell so damn good, baby,” He murmurs, beard and lips brushing against your skin. His begins to hands slip up your thighs, then goes still and tense. “This alright?” 
You smile, setting the beer down and curling your arms around his shoulders. 
“Yes,” You reassure, casting an eye toward the women. You can’t help the vindicated smile that curls your lips at their gobsmacked, irritated faces. “More than.” 
Angel nuzzles into your skin, his hands sliding up your thighs. You squeak, face going hot as he slips one of his hands beneath your ass, giving it a squeeze. You eye the pool table, and the guys' growing irritation.
“It’s your turn again,” You warn. 
“Alright.” He draws back, tipping his chin down to look at you. “You gonna keep your hands off’a my beer?” 
“If I must.” 
Angel grins, giving your ass another cheeky squeeze before drawing away. You lean back against the wall, swinging one leg back and forth as you watch the guys play. You make it a point to keep your eyes on them, and not to stray back toward the others—to the women that mistakenly thought that they could handle him. 
--  
“What’s gotten into you tonight?” 
It’s a fair question. You’re a little surprised he’s taken so long to ask it, and you’re incredibly happy that he’s not facing you when he finally does. Angel’s chosen to sit out the last couple of rounds of pool, instead leaning against the cabinet and chilling with you as you watch the others. You’re cuddled up against his back now, arms looped around his shoulders, hands dangling against his chest. You’ve been bracing for the question, but now that he’s asked it, your embarrassment and nerves are beginning to creep up again. 
You press your face into his neck, despite the fact that he can’t see you without twisting or turning. 
“It’s gonna sound petty and stupid,” You mumble sullenly. 
“From you? There’s no way.” 
His insistence warms you. You sigh softly, lifting your chin and resting it on his shoulder again. 
“...Those girls were talking about you. About getting to you.”
“That’s why?” 
“I know,” You groan, leaning back and slouching against the wall, raising your hands to scrub over your face. “I told you: petty and stupid.” 
Angel’s fingers curl around your wrists, giving them a tug and drawing them back from your face. You expect to find him smiling amusedly, but when you get a good look at him, you see a darkness in his eyes that you’re usually only privy to when you’re alone. It turns your insides molten hot. Angel uses his grip on your wrists to draw you closer again, pulling your hands behind his back. You bite your lip as he nudges your nose with his. 
“Is this what you want?” He murmurs. “Wanna show all’a them that I’m yours?” 
You swallow thickly, eyelids fluttering at the brush of his breath against your lips. 
“You wanna show ’em who I belong to?” He eggs on as you squeeze your thighs around his hips. 
“Little bit,” You mumble as your face heating. 
“Just a little bit?” He repeats with a soft chuckle. But he’s not making fun of you—oh, no. He’s just riling you up more. “Maybe you oughta teach them a lesson. What if they forget, hm?” 
You close the distance, kissing him harshly. Angel groans, the buzz of it vibrating against your lips as he lets go of your hands. You suck in a breath as his hands slide around your back, slotting your hips tightly together. You slip your hands up into his hair, weaving the strands through your fingers and giving them a tug. His lips part with the feeling, a heady moan slipping from them. You sweep your tongue into his mouth, swirling it sweetly around his. 
Just minutes ago, this would’ve felt like a gamble. Just a couple of hours ago, this would’ve been inconceivable. Now, you can’t think of anything other than staking your claim on him in front of everybody in that damn clubhouse until there is no question of who he belongs with, and to. 
Angel’s hand sneaks up under the hem of your shirt, fingers spreading across your back. You tip your head to the side, whimpering softly as Angel’s other hand drops to your thigh, hiking it just a little further around him. The tug shifts you even further toward the edge of the cabinet, and you pull in a stunned breath as Angel curls over you, sucking kisses along the side of your neck. You tip your hips down against his, thrilling at the feeling of him hardening in his jeans. You slip a hand between the two of you, palming him and grinning as he growls low, bucking against your hand. 
If you had just a second more, just a touch more boldness, you’d slip your fingers past his waistband—
“Would you two get a room?” Gilly grouses behind Angel. 
“Seriously, bro. We don’t need to see this,” EZ pipes up, whacking his brother on the shoulder. 
Angel straightens up, an almost glazed look in his eyes as his tongue sweeps across his kiss-plumped lips. He takes a step back, gripping your hand and helping you down from the cabinet. You don’t even bother to hide your giddiness as you let him tug you from the room, in full view of the other club members, their old ladies, and the others. You don’t care where you’re going, and frankly, you don’t care. 
Your man has it handled.
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce  ; @thesandbeneathmytoes
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drabbles-mc · 2 months
Text
Sugar
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol
With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I've ever written for, I'm aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We'll see how far we get!
Prompt: petals
Word Count: 423
A/N: I miss prepping craft projects for my students and somehow we ended up here 😂
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You were sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath the coffee table in your living room while you worked. The television was on but you weren't really paying it any mind as you cut out flower petals from construction paper, preparation for crafts with your students the next day. 
Above the white noise of the television, and the satisfying sound of your scissors gliding through the paper, was the sound of Angel's voice as he vented to you about what had gone down in Templo earlier that afternoon. 
“I swear to god,” he said as he went to the fridge to grab himself a beer, “I wish we were kids so I could dribble his head like a fuckin’ basketball the way I used to.” He popped the cap off the bottle and took a sip. “Bounce that shit right off the floor,” he said as he mimed a dribbling motion with his free hand. He looked over at you. “I think I could still do it.”
You chuckled, shaking your head as you kept your eyes trained on the paper in front of you. “Physically? Yeah, you probably could. But do you really think it'd solve anything?”
“Pfft,” he scoffed as he came and stood by the coffee table, neck craned down so he could watch you work. “Knock some brain cells back into place.”
You shook your head again with a knowing smile. “It's like I tell my students– you get more with sugar than–”
“Than you do with shit,” he finished with a sigh. “I know but I don't think I buy that shit, querida.”
You finally looked up at him. “Salt.”
His brows knit in confusion. “What?”
“You get more with sugar than you do with salt, Angel.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I'm pretty sure–”
You set the scissors down and leaned back slightly. “You think I'd say ‘you get more with sugar than you do with shit’ to my students? My elementary students?”
A smile quirked the end of his mouth. “I mean, it's still true.”
You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't help yourself. With a loving roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to come and sit with you. “Come down here and help me out with this, will you?”
He didn't put up a fight as he plopped down beside you. “Tryin’ to distract me,” he said with a smirk. 
You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his jaw before handing him his own pair of scissors. “Sugar instead of salt.”
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imagineredwood · 2 months
Text
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 🧍🏻‍♀️
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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General taglist
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady
Mayans MC taglist
@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​
@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002
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menofchaos · 4 months
Note
Oh yes please!
#7. Tracing the other’s lips with their finger
For my DevilMan Angel Reyes💜 Thank you!
Note: Hellooo, hope you like this one! I wrote it with this reader in mind but could be standalone!
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“Your girl fits in perfectly!”
The grin didn’t leave Angel’s face the whole night, only getting bigger with Cielo’s remark. They’d been on a few dates, with nothing more than a hug and a kiss on the cheek to end the night. Angel was never gun shy before but she was different. He knew she wouldn’t put up with his games. He learned that early when she would call him out for using overplayed lines on her. He wasn’t even sure she would actually come to the party but she was spinning around the dance floor with some of the other girls. Angel would glare at any man, patch or otherwise, who dared to get too close.
“2 minutes to midnight,” Bishop called, “Everyone outside!”
The party migrated outside and as soon as she was by his side, she took his hand, “What’s going on outside?” she asked.
Angel smiled, “We count down with fireworks and guns and then someone gets in the ring.”
Her eyes lit up, “My kind of party. Who’s fighting?”
“EZ and Hank,” he pointed out Hank, “Wanna watch?”
She grinned and walked onto the porch with him, wrapping an arm around his waist as the party counted down to midnight. He rested his arm around her shoulder, unable to look away from her.
“5…4…3…2…1! Happy New Year!”
She held his cheeks and kissed him, smiling when he pulled her closer. The cheering faded as they stumbled to the couch pushed into the corner of the porch, giggling against each other’s lips. She pulled back, tracing his lips with her finger. Angel shivered, lips parted as he looked up at her almost in awe.
“Happy New Year, Angel,” she whispered.
“Happy New Year, baby.”
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ficnation · 6 months
Text
Chapter 4: The Love She Holds
Series: “She” Word count: 2,7k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader Warnings: 18+; mayans mc typical warnings, unwanted touch, SMUT kinda A/n: What we're all been waiting for ✨ PS. If I reread this one more time before posting I'll probably scrape it all bcs I'm never satisfied 😩 If you enjoyed reading this please reblog and let me know your thoughts!
Main Masterlist
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For the next few days, Angel can’t look you in the eyes—hell, he can’t even bring himself to leave his room when he hears you shuffling around the apartment. He waits for the sound of the lock shifting in the door before he can bring himself to stick his head out of his safe haven. 
Angel knows he’s the one that fucked up this whole thing with you. He was lonely, and you were in his life for such a long ass time. You’ve never let him down—not even once. You are the sweetest person he’s ever met, yet you can still kick his ass when he’s being a dick. Falling in love with you was inevitable, but he didn’t know it would happen so fast—so soon. 
The man sighs as he leans his elbows on the wooden counter, listening to the wheezing of the coffee machine as hot black liquid spurts into the mug. The sound was tickling his nerves in a certain—very annoying—way. It didn’t make him even slightly angry before the bath incident, but now he just can’t stand it—it makes his head hurt. 
He slams his fist onto the counter, cursing loudly. The coffee spills over the edge of the mug and barely misses his hand. 
“I should fuckin’ do something,” he murmurs to himself through clenched teeth. Since when was he afraid to go after a woman he loves? He’s never been a goddamn pussy. What changed?
You are just so different than anyone Angel’s ever been with. He doesn’t want to lose you—can’t fucking stand the thought of you walking away. He has to do something. 
He drops Maverick off at Felipe’s house—gives them some abuelo-nieto time while he drives over to the bar where you work. It’s a shithole—a very suspicious one at that—yet the parking lot in front is almost full. The neon sign above the door flashes on and off when Angel slams the door of his car shut. Jesus, it’s gonna give someone a headache or a fucking seizure.
Entering this building was probably one of the worst mistakes in life—the man thinks as he’s greeted by a couple almost going at it by the entrance. The skinny blond dude has his hand down the poor girl’s skimpy skirt as she moans loudly in his ear, hips rolling into his palm. Fucking disgusting. 
He was doing the same exact shit back in the day when he was dumb, reckless, and didn’t care about anyone other than himself. But now the view makes him almost gag. 
The brunet pushes past the lovebirds—or rather fuckbirds—through the narrow hallway to the main area. The dimmed red lights flashing above his head and the music that makes every wall pulse with the beat make it seem like more of a club rather than a bar. He’s surprised when he takes a few more steps and a woman dressed in booty shorts with her whole tits out passes by him with a tray full of colorful shots. What the fuck is this place?
Angel looks around wildly, searching the topless women’s faces in fear he’ll recognize one of them. He pushes past the swaying bodies in the middle of the room, and then he sees you—working behind the bar.
He’s relieved when he notices that your chest is covered by one of those bralette thingies you like to wear so much. But he’s not sure whether this relief comes from not wanting the pathetic men around the bar to stare at your perfect body or not wanting to get another surprise boner in front of you. 
“You didn’t tell me you’re a bartender now,” he yells through the loud music as your gaze finds him, your eyes widening in shock.
You serve one of the men at the bar a bottle of beer, popping the cap simultaneously, then you come back to Angel and squint at him, trying to find a clue as to why he turned up at your workplace and how he even knew where to find you. This bar was almost an hour's drive away from Santo Padre. 
“What the hell are you doing here? I do not have time to put up with your shit right now, Angel,” you sneer at him as you lean over the bar in hopes he’ll hear you better, take the hint and retreat back to his car. 
“I’m fucking sorry, alright?!” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation, almost knocking a drink out of some poor girl’s hand.
You blink once, then twice, and your eyebrows scrunch up in annoyance, “Fuck off.” You whip around and go the opposite way to serve another customer. 
That’s definitely not how Angel imagined this conversation would go. He didn’t know you were that mad at him. He was a moron to think you’d accept his apology without a peep in the middle of a sea of drunk strangers. This wasn’t a goddamn telenovela. 
The man sighs deeply in annoyance before following you to the other side of the bar. “Querida, can we talk? Give me five fucking minutes.”
At first, he’s sure you’ll just ignore him as your eyes almost pop out of your skull—that’s how hard you roll them at his words—but then you turn to him with teary eyes. “I’m at work. I can’t. You really couldn’t wait and ambush me when I’m home?” 
“It was an impulse,” he admits. Angel knew it was pretty dumb to think that if he came here, you’d drop everything, so he could explain himself and get rid of this guilt that’s been eating him alive for the past few days. “Please, querida.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” you curse under your breath before waving over the other bartender and shouting through the noise to her that you’re taking a break. 
You join Angel on the other side of the counter and tug at his kutte, leading him toward the exit. Before you can even reach the hallway, someone bumps into you, their hands grabbing at your naked waist. 
“Hey there, bonita,” the man greets you. The smell of his cologne and cigarettes makes your eyes widen—you know it very well. 
Angel stands there for a second, his left brow raised in annoyance and confusion because you seem to know this guy—and he really doesn’t like that thought. He pushes the stranger’s hands off your body with a sneer. 
“Man, don’t fucking touch her like that.”
You catch Angel’s forearm and squeeze almost painfully, your nails digging into his inked skin. You don’t turn your head toward him even for a quarter of a second. 
“The hell? We’re friends, big guy.” The man’s deep voice and graying beard confuse him even more. Since when do you fancy fucking grandpas? 
“Uh, Cesar, hi,” you greet him, your voice squeaky and the upward quirk of your lips fake. The second the stranger’s gaze falls over your grip on the brunet’s arm, you release him. “Sorry, I’ve actually just finished my shift.”
“No, you fucking didn’t.” Cesar’s eyebrows and nose scrunch threateningly. Who the fuck is this guy to be talking to you like that?
You reply without missing a beat, “My kid’s got a fever. It’s an emergency.”
The old guy looks between your face and Angel’s before the grimace falls. The smirk taking its place isn’t any less threatening. “You must be the baby daddy, huh?” he asks, but his tone is clearly mocking.
You pray in your head that Angel will hold his short temper at bay. You know, one wrong word to Cesar equals a shit ton of trouble—even the satisfaction of wiping that disgusting smirk off his face wasn’t worth it. 
“Mi niña hermosa. So fucking good at riding, she got herself a biker,” Cesar almost moans those words out as his hand finds your hip, fingers toying with the belt loop of your dress pants. You don’t move to slap his hand away.
Angel raises his fist to punch him, his teeth gritting against each other almost audibly. Before he can deliver that hit, you push him aside and usher him out of the door. You don’t say another word to that Cesar guy—not even a goodbye—as he slips a bill into your back pocket and slaps your ass.
Angel is fucking livid because you know how to take care of yourself, he saw you kill a man before, crush his skull with your goddamn boot, and yet you just take the disrespect in silence. It’s not like you.
Once you’re out the door and out of earshot, he explodes. “Why the fuck did you let him treat you like that?!” His voice reverberates through the night air, earning the two of you a few concerned and annoyed glances from the bystanders. 
“That’s my boss. Now shut up and take me home,” you mumble, exhausted, looking around the parking lot in search of Angel’s car. “I spent an hour in the car with that dick to even get here, and now I’m going back after not even half of my shift just because you couldn’t wait to talk,” you rant, almost stumbling over your words.
When you reach the car, and he opens the door at the passenger side like always, he’s surprised to catch a glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. He joins you inside with a sigh, concerned eyes finding your head turned away from him as you stare through the side window. 
“Cariño, I’m sorry,” Angel whispers, his hand reaching to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with your bare arm. “Every single time I feel like we’re closer than ever and that maybe you feel something toward me too, you fucking push me away.”
“I know, I’m—”
You cut him off before he has a chance to apologize again, “No, I’m speaking right now. You’ve never yelled at me before. Not like that. You scared the shit out of me, and I blamed myself. Wondered what the hell I did to deserve it. But I didn’t do shit.” You throw your arms in the air, gesticulating toward him. You still refuse to meet his eyes. “You fucked up. Not me. You’re the one that’s been playing with my feelings all this time, and god forbid I try to even out the stakes.”
Angel’s now the one tearing up as his eyes widen at your words. “Querida, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t fucking mean it.” His fingers find solace in tugging on his hair in frustration.  “And I never wanted you to feel like I’m playing with your feelings. I’m so sorry.”
You turn away from him again, biting your lip to keep the sobs inside. “Please, just drive me home, Angel.” The desperation in your voice is heartbreaking. 
So he does what you ask of him and drives you home in silence. He doesn’t have it in him to try again when you’re already struggling, trying to keep the whimpers from wrecking your body. And when you pull up in front of your apartment building with a heavy heart, he lets you jump out of the car and rush to the door. 
He stays in his seat, trying to recollect himself—it doesn’t help, he still hates himself for making you feel this way. It takes a while for him to get inside the apartment, he dreads that when he walks in, you’ll tell him to take his shit and get out of your life. 
Angel knows he fucked up, and you were right; he played with your feelings—played with his own too. He slept in your bed almost every night, cuddled with you, kissed your forehead and told you ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’. How was it any different from how he’d treat Nails, Luisa, or any other woman he loved? Minus the sex. And when you challenged that unspoken boundary—on purpose or not—he chickened out and treated you like a plague. What the hell was wrong with him?
The apartment is swallowed in darkness when he enters it. You’re nowhere to be seen, and he figures out you’ve probably shut yourself inside your room, maybe even locked the door, so he wouldn’t be able to come in. He wouldn’t blame you.
He sits on the couch in the gloom and stares into the void. He’ll wait for you to come to him once you’re ready—he’ll sit here for hours if he has to. Angel needs to fix this, tell you what’s really been on his mind the past couple of days—tell you how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how fucking terrifying it is. 
Three hours pass, and he’s almost dozed off on the couch, his head tilted forward, his back slumped, and his eyelids drooping with every second. The wooden floor creaks underneath your footsteps, waking him up completely. The sleepiness evaporates into thin air as he straightens up and finds your frame in the darkness. 
You switch on one of the lamps in the corner of the room. Its warm glow takes over its surroundings, but not overwhelmingly so. Angel squints a little as your frame drops onto the couch beside him. You sniffle softly before leaning your head on his shoulder.
His heart shatters just a little bit more, and his voice carries it, breaking in the middle of the sentence, “I’m sorry, cariño.”
You don’t acknowledge his apology—you don’t really need to. Your next words are all the forgiveness he could ever want. 
“I love you, Angel,” you mumble against his arm. It’s a quiet confession, yet it echoes in his mind like a mantra.
He feels your tears soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. The man blinks in shock once, or twice, then pulls you into his lap and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead. 
“You know I love you too, right? More than any woman I’ve ever loved,” he admits, and it pains him, but it’s the truth.
He loved Luisa and Stephanie, but those feelings pale in comparison to what he feels for you. Angel never experienced this overwhelming want to protect someone from the whole goddamn world—the pure need to spend every single minute of his life with them and care about them more than he’s ever cared about himself. He feels that for you—like he could throw himself into a burning fire if someone promised him his sacrifice would give you and Maverick safety for the rest of your lives. 
You straighten up in his arms and cradle his jaw in your palms. When your eyes meet, you see that burning fire in them. He doesn’t need to say anything else—you understand him without words. 
Your lips press against his tentatively at first, tasting the love and longing. But Angel has a different idea. He pulls you flush against his chest, hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His tongue grazes the plush of your lips, and you part them for him without a second thought. 
That night, he fucks you on the couch in the middle of your living room, your back pressed against the cushions as he slides inside you with a guttural groan. It’s sweet and needy. The desire you harbored for each other finally released into the world—he’s far past feeling guilty, and sorry for a woman that’s long gone.
Your moans reverberate through the room, and all he can think about is how perfectly he fits inside you—like you were made just for him. One look into your eyes, and he knows you’re thinking the same thing. 
Your nails bite into the bare skin of his back, and the pain is so lovely—he could get drunk on it. He pushes deeper and deeper until you’re a whimpering, clenching mess beneath him. It’s a picture that burns into his brain, he’ll never be able to get it out—not that he’ll ever want to. 
When he spills inside you with a groan, you pull him flush against your naked frame, cradling his face in your palms and leaving sweet pecks anywhere you can reach. 
He’s addicted already, he’ll never be able to give you away now—not a chance in the world. Angel’s love for you is burned into his heart permanently. 
Taglist: @neverland14353 @darklydeliciousdesires @spnaquakindgdom @dreamy-caramel @mars469
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garbinge · 9 months
Text
Motion Sick
Angel Reyes x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the fic a day challenge with me! Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Fluffy but light angst.
Mayans MC Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705
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It was the middle of the day and you were traveling back home from a club errand with Angel. You might’ve had the day off but Angel didn’t and you figured if you were gonna snag anytime with him alone this was going to be it. Things had been busy between the club and the scrapyard. There wasn’t even a point in asking Angel if the errand he was running was for either because it likely had to do with both. All you knew is Angel had mentioned needing to take a ride to Santa Ana in the morning before he left your house and you met him at the clubhouse and hopped in the passenger seat of the van without any argument on his side. 
Angel didn’t mind the company, if anything he enjoyed it. These days it was rare you two got to do anything together besides roll over and shake the other to shut off the alarm so taking a ride together was like a date on the town for you. 
The ride up was smooth and quick, both of you wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible so that the rest of the day was your own without any responsibilities lingering over your head. The way back was more enjoyable. Angel took the long way back down the Pacific Coast Highway to give some romance to the trip, opting to stop at a whale watching point because he really wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. It was nice, it was something that had been missing between you two lately and this was his way of acknowledging it. 
As you got back on the road you started to fidget in the passenger seat. Finding a comfortable position was making itself hard as you moved around. 
“You alright? You can’t sit still.” Angel looked over at you as you switched to your 4th position in the last minute. 
“Yea, just feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.” You frowned and leaned forward to grab the handle that would easily adjust the seat back in hopes that would help. 
“You think it was the lookout dock? The waves and shit making you sick?” The worry grew in his voice as he slowed down on the highway, taking the opportunity to look at you longer verse the road to get a better understanding about what was going on. 
“I don’t know, I don’t think so. We were on solid foundation not like a dock or anything that was moving. Maybe I’m just getting antsy from the ride.” You brushed off his concern.
“Look, maybe you just need a break, we can stop and get some fuckin’ food or some shit.” Angel was starting to argue with you now, not out of spite, but from a genuine place. “You’re probably just motion sick. We’ve been in this van for a minute.” He had already begun to pull over at whatever food stop was coming up before you could put up a fight but it didn’t stop you from trying. 
“I don’t usually get motion sick,” your hand lifted to wave him off to continue driving until you almost immediately brought it to your mouth, “oh– I think I’m gonna puke.” 
Luckily the car was stationary as you opened the passenger door and vomited out of it. Angel thinking quickly to lean over and pull anything out of the way of your upchucking. 
“Damn querida. I thought you didn’t get motion sick.” He said when you finally stopped and used one of the napkins that was shoved in the side pocket of the car to wipe your mouth off. As he spoke you turned to him and lifted your middle finger which made him laugh. 
“I feel like shit.” You closed your eyes and leaned back in the seat. 
“You need anything? I’ll get the food to go, we can grab a spot in the grass or something, I’m sure we got a blanket somewhere back here.” Angel went into full solution mode. 
“If I sit on any blanket that’s in this van I’ll end up sicker than I am right now.” You let out a chuckle and let your head fall to the left to stare at Angel. He was on edge, you could tell. His arm was on the steering wheel and his body was twisted to look back at you. “Why don’t we find a convenient store, like a CVS or Rite Aid or some shit, I think I’ll get better if I get my hands on a gatorade and some saltines.” 
Angel was moving in seconds, he had put the car in drive and you were about to argue it but he spoke up. “I’m just moving it up a couple feet so you don’t step in your own vomit.” His smiled openly. 
“Angel the angel.” You teased him as you stepped out the van. 
The convenient store was close, it was a matter of minutes before you both entered the air conditioned building that was playing some top 40’s radio station through the speakers. The cold breeze already had you feeling better, the club van didn’t exactly have the best AC for an old overused vehicle. 
“Grab what you want, I’m gonna see if I can get you some of that motion sickness shit from the pharmacy, half the shit on the PCH is behind lock and key.” Angel placed a quick kiss on your head before walking towards the medicine aisle. “Oh and maybe pick up some Listerine or toothpaste!” His whole body turned around as he kept walking backwards with his nose scrunched up. 
That earned him another middle finger and a headshake, although, you knew he was right. Toothpaste and a toothbrush was the first thing you were grabbing on your way to grab the essentials but he didn’t need to be annoying about it. 
As you entered the toiletry aisle your eyes scanned the shelves. Mouthwash was first, and while it was a viable option, you knew brushing your teeth would be a greater benefit for both of you. As your eyes moved to the toothpaste, you saw the travel brush and paste kit and grabbed the first one you saw before walking down the rest of the aisle. You browsed the rest of the aisle, taking your time not wanting to leave the cooled store anytime soon. As you looked around your eyes stopped on a box of tampons. That’s when it hit you like a tons of bricks. The speed at which you took your phone out your backpocket was unmatched, all just for your thoughts to be confirmed by the date displaying on your phone. You were late. 
Without a second thought you grabbed the pink box that was to the right of the pads and tampons and flew to the bathroom. Luckily it was on the opposite side of where the pharmacy was so there was no chance you were going to run into Angel. 
3 minutes was beginning to feel like 3 days with how long it was taking. You had grabbed the digital test, which was likely the more expensive one but at this point you didn’t care. You stood over the sink staring at the flashing lines waiting for words to pop up on it. You could’ve taken the time to brush your teeth but you felt like if you took your eyes off the test, you’d miss something. 
You heard the digital beeping and the words appeared across the screen. 
Pregnant. 
“Holy shit.” 
You weren’t exactly sure how to feel but before you could really even process it, you were stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the aisles for Angel. 
He was in the toy section, gatorade and saltines in one hand and a squishmallow in the other. 
“Hey look! It kinda looks like Sally right? I know it’s a seal but they got the same fuckin’ eyes.” Angel held up the gray stuffed animal and compared it to his little brother’s dog. 
As you walked over to him and said nothing his smile started to fade. 
“You get sick again?” He asked a follow up question. 
Without saying anything you held up the pregnancy test for him to see. It took him a couple seconds to process what you were showing him before he was picking you up in the air in celebration. The squeal that left your mouth was full of shock but the laugh that came after was genuine. Angel was clearly excited about this and that sent a wave of relief through you that let you enjoy this. 
“Alright, alright, put me down you’re gonna make me sick again!” You spoke through another laugh. 
“What happened, I thought you don’t get motion sick.” His voice got deeper as he mocked you and put you down. 
“Yea I don’t, but apparently your kid does.” 
Angel’s smile grew even bigger at that sentence. You leaned over and grabbed the squishmallow from him and made your way to the front of the store to pay for everything you two had gathered up. 
“We gettin’ that?!” Angel lightly jogged to catch up to you. 
“Baby’s first toy?” You squished it against your front in a hug. 
Angel brought you into his side, throwing his arm around you as he left a soft his on the crown of your head. 
“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 
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hennyjwrites · 1 year
Text
Thot Thoughts W/ Angel
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Angel’s hand was tucked under your dress, deep inside you. Your head was down and he was looking forward with a sly smirk on his face.he could feel how wet you were with each thrust of his fingers. He shifted slightly, so he could lean over to you. He was so close he could hear every gasp, and soft, pretty moan that escaped your mouth. His lips grazed your ear as he whispered.
“You gon be a good girl tonight?”
You softly whispered back a yes, before whimpering as he pressed into your spot.
“You gonna leave me again?” He asked. When you didn’t answer he pressed against your spot again more firmly. “No.” You cried softly.
Angel smiled. “You putting your ring back on?” He sped up his movements
“Y-yes!” You cried out, feeling your stomach tighten as you came closer and closer.
Angel shushed you quietly as he laid a quick but soft kiss on your cheek. “You cumming ‘for me?” He asked, with yet another sly grin on his face. You shook your head yes as you closed your eyes to focus on your orgasm.
Before you had the chance to cum, Angel pulled his fingers away. You looked over at him, confused but soon you understood why as you looked up.
“Was everything to your liking?” The waiter asked with a grin on his face. Angel smiled at him. “Yea man. Aye, would you mind grabbing the check?” With a smile and nod the waiter walked off.
Angel turned to you. “Go wait in the car mami, desserts at home tonight.”
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happysoldlady · 2 months
Note
Ok so what if Angel had a wife/gf who’s graduating college for whatever (you can pick) and everyone is there and he’s so proud of her because she put her life on hold because they became parents young and she had to take care of the kid
a/n: I almost wrote the graduating party at the clubhouse too lol! please enjoy!
You and Angel had been together for several years. The first year was mainly just the two of you trying to figure out how to co-exist. And the other four had been spent raising the tiny human the two of you made. Being a parent was one of the most rewarding experiences of your life and that experience was ongoing. But bringing a human into the world had halted the plans you had for yourself. Angel was as supportive as he could be, but club business overruled everything and eventually, you had to drop out of school to care for your child. It was only a year and a half ago that you were able to finally go back, with the help of your lovely father in law of course. And today, you finally graduated.
The university gymnasium is packed with teary eyed families and lined with thousands of graduation caps all belonging to hopeful entrepreneurs. You were slightly older than most of the graduates, your life experience calming your nerves. This was just walking across a stage. Nothing compared to the shoot-outs that so often occurred at club parties. And even as this thought crossed your mind, your hands started sweating a little bit the closer you got to the stage. Your eyes dart through the rows of proud families, scanning for a particular set of brown eyes to calm your nerves. You are three graduates from the stage when you finally find them. There, in the middle, is Angel, Felipe, and EZ. Angel is holding your kid up so they can wave from the stands. You give them a watery grin, and a small wave, and then turn to focus on walking across the stage.
——
“Gracias, señor.” You giggle as Felipe hands you a bouquet of flowers. You step into his arms and plant a kiss on his cheek that leaves his cheeks a little pink. Then, EZ pulls you into a tight hug. His face is shadowed, though, and you remind yourself to explore it with him later.
“Mommy!” Your child runs up, wrapping little arms around your legs. You squat down to give them a tight hug and then stand, immediately stepping into Angel’s arms as EZ takes the reins of your four-year old.
“Congratulations.” Angel mumbles into your hair, planting a kiss to your head before nuzzling his face in the crook your neck. Your arms tighten around him and the emotions of what you’ve accomplished nearly overwhelm you. “I’ve never been so proud of someone in my life.”
You let out a choked sob and bury your face into his chest. To hell with your makeup, you’re a fucking college graduate!
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bullet-prooflove · 8 months
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Valeria - Angel Reyes x Reader
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Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics @irishavengersassemble @keyweegirlie
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It’s late when Angel makes it home, later than he intended to be. The house is already lit up and the porch light is on, beckoning him inside. He loves coming home to this, knowing that there’s someone waiting for him, someone who cares about him, who wants to hear about his day. He shuts the front door behind him, bending down to untie the laces of his boots before he toes them off carefully and sets them alongside your smaller ones.
He's been thinking of asking you to move in with him. It’s been almost nine months and he’s more than ready, the only reason he hasn’t done it sooner is because you’re a little skittish. You’ve told him before that you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hopes that you see you don’t have to worry about that with him. That he’s steady, that he wants a place in your life and he’s here to stay.
“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.” he hollers as he treads through the hallway towards the kitchen. He knows you’re probably in there, sitting at the table running through your list of things to do. “We were talking about the food drive this weekend, Bish was worried we wouldn’t have enough bodies…”
He trails off, his hand coming to rest on the door frame as he surveys the sight in front of him.
“I found this on the doorstep.” You tell him, tipping your head towards the car seat and the diaper bag sitting on the kitchen table. “Along with those.”
You’re holding a baby.
She’s tiny, not more than a few weeks old, wrapped up in a white fleece blanket with yellow ducks embroidered into it. There’s a tuft of dark hair sticking out of her head, something that he recognises from his own baby pictures. His heart fucking breaks because he knows, he just knows that this is his baby.
“There’s a note.” You say, swaying from side to side gently as the infant begins to gripe. You hush her and she begins to sooth as you continue with the motion.
He edges towards the table, his fingers picking up the envelop that’s already been torn open. He doesn’t begrudge you that, he would have done the same thing. There’s a letter and a birth certificate tucked inside. He takes them both and smooths them upon the surface of the table along side each other. He studies the birth certificate first.
Her name is Valeria and she’s three weeks old.
His fingertip trails down the paper until he reaches the line where both of the parents are listed. He sees his name scrawled by a registrar along side the word ‘Father’. He puts both of his hands on the back of his head as he breathes the word ‘fuck’.
“Don’t swear in front of the baby.” You murmur, your voice a low, even tone.
“Sorry.” He finds himself saying.
This is so fucking surreal; he can’t wrap his head around it. His gaze strays to the ‘Mother’ column and he sees the name Skylar Rixton listed. Who the fuck…
And then he remembers.
Sky.
The bike bunny he’d fucked a couple of weeks before he met you. She’d been tending bar for a few weeks, a friend of Jess’s. Things had gotten a little wild that night in the Clubhouse, he’d been knocking back tequila trying to drown out the self-loathing that was gnawing at his insides and she’d put herself directly in his path. He’s woken up the next morning with a scratched up back and Sky trying to tempt an encore out of him. He’d stopped it in it’s tracks because he could already see that she was getting attached and Angel didn’t do strings.
She’d taken off a couple of months later after he’d started seeing you.
He read the letter next, and it confirms his suspicions. She’d discovered she was pregnant not long after he’d met you. Decided to raise the kid on her own, then discovered it wasn’t as easy as she thought.
She’s your problem now, the letter said.
“I didn’t know.” He tells you as he raises from his seat at the table.
“It doesn’t matter.” You say, your head tilted away from him.
Your hair falls across your features so he can’t see the expression on your face. He realises that this is the other shoe, that the very thing he promised not to do to you is happening right now and he is powerless to stop it.
“Angel, you need to take you daughter.” You tell him.
Your voice is soft, but he can still hear the hurt in it. It feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest because the last thing he ever wanted was for you to become a casualty of his recklessness.
You’re careful as you hand him the baby. He reacts instinctively, shifting the weight of the tiny infant until she sits comfortably in his arms, her fists flailing just a little.
“You’re alright.” He tells her, his voice kind as he starts to sway. “I’ve got you.”
He doesn’t realise you’ve left until he hears the front door closing behind you. He doesn’t remember you saying anything, only the absence of your presence as he finds himself standing alone in his kitchen with his daughter cradled in his arms. He swallows hard past the ache in his chest, his eyes stinging because he knows he fucked up.
This may be the beginning for him and Valeria but it’s the end of him and you.
Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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fanficimagery · 2 years
Text
Angel’s Reina
The Sons of Anarchy have always wondered just what type of man SAMCRO's Princess was into, but she never dated. Or if she did, she was super secretive about it and managed to date undetected. Now, however, the Sons have some visitors and it seems they're finally going to find the answer to their long awaited question.
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Words: 6.3K Author's Note: Sons!AU because Clay and Gemma make everything worse and I like to keep shit lighthearted and fun. Sorry.
For your entire life, being hailed as SAMCRO's princess felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Add in a mother like Gemma Teller and a stepfather like Clay Morrow, and it made life all the more difficult. Especially when puberty hit and the Sons of Anarchy suddenly became overprotective big brothers and uncles.
But while they were overprotective, they were also curious as to why they'd never gotten the chance to dole out some pain to a hormonal teenage boy who thought he could put his hands all over you. Jax and Opie were the ones who were most interested in your hopefully nonexistent dating life, but it was your mother who was attempting to plan a wedding to any Son of your choosing so long as it kept you in Charming.
And staying in Charming wasn't really in your plans until Clay wound up dead and your mother not too far behind him thanks to her binge drinking ways.
It took a while for things to calm down within the Sons after losing their President and Queen, but Jax and Tara filled their roles perfectly. You reluctantly took over for the garage, but not before Jax completely gutted it and then upgraded it. You didn't mind the paperwork and filing system, but technology made things faster and easier and you weren't about to fall behind like you mother constantly was.
Then when things actually were calm and Jax started to make peace with the other MC's, only then did everyone start to loosen up and be at ease without constantly looking over their shoulders.
When the clubhouse parties started back up, it was hectic. The Sons and the hangarounds were ecstatic that the sweetbutts made a reappearance, but they weren't too ecstatic at Tara's rules for them. You sat and watched, and then helped your sister-in-law rid the clubhouse of the women who wouldn't stop pushing up on the married men. And when the men made a pass at you, you made sure to pull rank- as much as you hated it- and send the men on their way less they get a beat down from either yourself or your brother.
After numerous parties where you sent men on their way, the Sons started to become curious as to why you wouldn't hook up with anyone. They weren't as overprotective as they once were and were truly curious as to the type of man you'd invite to your bed. But when you refused to talk about the type of man you were attracted to, they took it upon themselves to figure it out by having shirtless men walk around the clubhouse.
They knew you didn't like them too old, so half the Sons were out. You'd seen Opie naked more times than you'd like to admit and never were awkward around him, so he was out too. You admitted to thinking Half-Sack was cute, but he was too nervous around you given your last name and Juice was- well he was too much of a horn dog. You didn't think he had it in him to be faithful, so you were never tempted by him.
The closest they got to you cracking was when Happy stripped out of his shirt in the middle of the club so he could be tattooed. The way he leaned against the bar, jeans riding low and the V of his hips on display, made you pause, but fortunately only Tara was the one who noticed. Her eyes widened, but you quickly shook your head and busied yourself to make you forget about the attractive sight just on the other side of the room. She laughed, but it was easy to squash the crush on the stoic man when you remembered the whole reusing condoms phase he went through and everyone who had to get tested for a STD.
Fortunately for you, Tara keeps your secret, but it was only a matter of time before the others found out.
Especially since the day before Halloween the Mayans decide to roll in for a weekend visit.
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Sitting in your air conditioned office, your knee bounces anxiously as you stare at the clock in the corner of your computer screen. It's Friday, which means Halloween is tomorrow, and you're more than ready to start preparing for your favorite holiday. The second the clock strikes five, you're up and out of your seat, and lunging for the door.
"Alright, motherfuckers, clock out!" You yell after exiting your office. "It's Friday, tomorrow's Halloween, and if you're not dressing up then you know the drill! I want the candy tubs filled so all the crotch goblins of Charming leave here with a smile!"
Laughter meets your ears, everyone knowing how serious you took Halloween, and the men on shift start making their way towards you to clock out for the day. You smile at each of them, pulling the beanie from your head and tossing it onto your desk.
"YN!" Jax shouts. "Get over here."
Seeing your brother standing out in the parking lot, you immediately strip out of your plaid long sleeve. You wrap the sleeves around your waist, leaving you in a tank top and jeans, and continue to make your way outside. You squint your eyes as soon as the sun hits you, but you can still see a few new faces standing around your brother.
With a hand shielding your eyes, you nod at him. "What's up?" You quickly glance at the men around him, nodding in greeting, and you grin when you see a familiar face. "Obispo!"
The Mexican man has a lot more gray in his beard than you remember, but he's still as handsome as ever. You turn towards him, arms wide, and embrace him with a smile. "Princesa, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Bishop?"
"You can tell me for the rest of our lives, but it doesn't mean I'm going to listen." You squeeze him a little before stepping back. "What brings you guys to our backyard? Club shit or pleasure?"
"A little bit of both." You glance at each man then, shaking your head in amusement when you see their amused grins. "Mija, this is Creeper, Angel, and Ezekiel (call me EZ)." Your eyes trail over each man and pray the blazing sun is good enough reason to blame the impending redness of your cheeks on. Each man is handsome in their own right, but there's one among the group that is making your insides squirm.
You've heard the names of the Mayans before, but never really had any pictures to put a face to the name. Now, however, as Angel Reyes stands before you, you can't help but appreciate how he looks in a long sleeve shirt with its sleeves rolled up and showing off tattooed forearms.
When you see Angel's arms flex, your gaze darts up to his eyes crinkled in mirth and you know he caught you ogling. Narrowing your eyes slightly in return, you're about to introduce yourself when an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and squeezing you to the culprit's side. You grimace and look up to find your brother smirking. "Gentlemen, this is YN. Princess of SAMCRO." You roll your eyes at the title. "If you need anything and Tara isn't around, you go to her."
"Yeah, yeah. Prospect's still on bitch duty. I only handle the nuisances."
"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.
"Mhm. Some sweetbutts are rather persistent when it comes to a man in a kutte. If you got an old lady back home and don't want anyone pushing up on you, let me know right now. And for the love of god, stay away from Ima."
Jax chuckles as you sneer at the blonde's name. "What'd Ima do now?" Bishop wonders.
"Still has her sights on Ope, can't handle taking orders from Tara or I, and thinks she should get some special privileges around here because she's been around for years." You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Obispo, the next time she looks at me wrong I'm gonna take a bat to that prissy little car of hers."
"I thought your fighting days were over, mija?"
Jax barks out a laugh and you're quick to elbow him as the Mayans glance between the two of you in amusement. "She's a Teller, man. If she can't walk around with a kutte, she's gonna walk around with bloody fists."
"Shut up." You swat Jax's abdomen before stepping away from him. "I'm not a violent person."
"Not until Ima's involved."
"Whatever." You give your attention to the Mayans. "If you're sticking around through tomorrow, you guys gotta follow tradition."
"And what's that, querida?"
You gulp under Angel's stare and quickly avert your gaze. "If you refuse to dress up, you gotta hand over cash for the candy funds. Every year we set out a few tables of candy and the kids of Charming stop by. There's usually four or five stations- candy, chips, drinks and pencils with pencil toppers to encourage them to stay in school. Bobby's in charge of the grill and Juice is on music. It's my favorite night of the year and no one is going to mess it up for me."
"You guys don't have to chip in," Jax says and you gasp, scandalized he would say such a thing.
Bishop, however, chuckles and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. You give a short happy squeal when Bishop pulls out a fifty and gestures for his boys to do the same. Jax rolls his eyes as you skip forward and pluck the cash from Bishop's hand, and then kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Obispo."
"De nada."
Creeper and EZ are holding out twenties when you glance at them, and you pluck them with a smug smile. When you move on to Angel, however, he pulls his cash back when you reach for it. "Don't I get a kiss too, querida?"
You narrow your eyes at the smug Mexican, heart pounding. When he continues to smirk, you roll your eyes and push up on the tips of your toes to kiss his cheek while plucking the cash from his hands. "There. Happy?"
"Over the moon."
You snort and turn around, folding the cash in your hands to pocket when your brother's next words make you tense. "YN, are you- are you blushing?"
"What? No!" You blurt a little too fast, eyes wide when you look up.
Jax's own eyes are wide, mouth agape in his shock. Slowly but surely, he starts to smile. "Did- did one of the Mayans just break our case wide open?"
"No!"
"Uh, what case, 'mano?"
"Nothing!" You whirl around, pointing a finger at Angel who's quick to step back with his hands up. "Don't worry about it."
"Holy shit." Your brother laughs. "He did!"
"It's fucking hot out here, Jackson! I'm red because of the heat!"
"Or you're red because you got a thing for them Spanish boys," he says a little too smugly. Your mouth drops open and he laughs even harder. "Oh fuck. Wait until I tell the boys."
Unable to think of anything that will deter your brother, you hit him with your shoulder as you pass. "You're a dick, Jax."
"Love you too, sis."
As the group of men watch YN Teller stalk off, Bishop chuckles. "Care to fill us in, el presidente?"
Jax glances back at the Mayans, grinning. "For a couple years now we've been trying to figure out just what type of man my sister is attracted to. She's never brought anyone around and while we know of a few people she thinks are attractive, none of them have made her blush like your boy Angel has."
Angel suddenly preens at the news, clutching his kutte and straightening it out, and EZ rolls his eyes before smacking the back of his brother's head. "Don't even think about it, hermano."
"Why not? Big bro doesn't seem to have a problem with it."
EZ glances at Jax and the blonde chuckles. "If he thinks he can handle her, I say go for it. My sis is a pain in the ass. It'll be hilarious to see her squirming for once."
Bishop shakes his head at his secretary. "If you go after la princesa, don't mess around with the sweetbutts. We don't need any unnecessary drama."
"Whatever you say, Bish. Whatever you say."
Jax laughs as he gestures for the Mayans to follow him inside. "Come on. Let's hammer out the details for the gun trade because come tomorrow this place is going to be Halloween central and my sister will cut a bitch if anyone ruins her night."
. .
. .
As the night progresses, the clubhouse fills with its usual hangarounds and sweetbutts. You've opted to tend to the bar next to Half-Sack, keeping an eye on the happenings all around to make sure you don't have to interfere. Occasionally your gaze slides over Angel, eyes narrowing at all the sweetbutts gathered around the group. You keep telling yourself you're watching them more than usual because Jax and Opie are there, but you can't fool yourself for long. You're keeping an eye on which sweetbutt is gonna get the most disgusting chores around the club for getting too close to Angel.
"Wow. Jax wasn't kidding." Tara slides onto a stool across from you, eyes sparkling in amusement. "The Mayan, YN? Really?"
Your gaze snaps to your sister-in-law and you lower yourself behind the bar, arms crossed atop the counter as your chin rests on your arm. "I can't help it. He's so pretty."
"Wow. I for sure thought you were going to be attracted to the bald one after I saw you ogling Happy that one time."
You chuckle. "They're all hot, Tara, but Obispo is too old, Creeper looks like a strong silent type and EZ seems just a tad too goofy. His smile reminds me too much of Juice."
"What do you like about Angel then? That is his name, right?"
"Yes, and.." you sigh longingly. "I don't know. "He's just- he's pretty," you whine. Tara's head tips back as she laughs. "And then he started with the pet names in Spanish and the lady bits started tingling. It was lust at first sight."
"Do we have to worry about you starting a fight over the Mayan?" Your sister-in-law continues to giggle.
You sigh and then straighten up, grabbing up a dish towel and wiping down the bar top. "Nah. I mean I might glare and be a little petty, but I won't start an actual fist fight. Just a couple more hours and then I get to go home, and all will be well come tomorrow."
"Or he and every sweetbutt dressed in a slutty costume will test your resolve tomorrow night, and I'll end up having to babysit your ass."
"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this."
"Oh I am," she muses.
Tara keeps you company for the rest of the night, pulling you from behind the bar and taking great pleasure in seeing you squirming over some guy. You end up sitting with the group of guys, sandwiched between Opie and Happy, and doing your best to not look in Angel's direction. Then when the clubhouse starts to clear out, Jax has Juice bring out a dry erase board.
"What's going on?" Bishop asks as he takes in the names written on the board.
"They're making a bet on what my costume will be," you say.
"Please let it be something slutty," Tig begs. "Like last year! That was a great costume," he says while crossing himself and then holding his hands together as if in prayer. You laugh.
"What were you last year?" Angel asks, eyebrow arched.
You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."
"The stockings. Oh god, the stockings," Tig groans as the men all chuckle.
"Dios mío." Bishop snorts, shaking his head.
Every bet is worth ten bucks and you're not surprised over half of them guess you'll be something sexy and/or slutty- Velma from Scooby Doo, Harley Quinn, and a ringmaster being some of your favorite guesses. Even the Mayans get in on the fun, Angel and Creeper immediately going the slutty route as well with hopes of you dressing as a sexy cheerleader or a sexy witch. Surprisingly it's EZ and Bishop who take their time thinking about it, but while their guesses are of the non-sexy variety, they still don't guess it.
"You guys are insane." You chuckle as they argue over who's got it right, some even changing their guesses.
"But did we get it right, querida?" Angel wonders.
You shrug and stand, getting ready to call it a night so you're well rested for dealing with all the candy hungry little gremlins. "You'll just have to wait and see."
"And don't go changing your outfit at the last second, lass," Chibs calls out.
"I'm not." Your eyes roll. "But just a heads up, you boys are on your own tomorrow. I'll be here in the morning to make sure we have everything that you'll be setting up and then I'll be going back home to dress."
"It involves makeup, doesn't it?" Jax guesses. You slowly grin at him and the men all curse, hurriedly changing their vote yet again.
"Happy guessing, boys! I'll see most of you tomorrow evening."
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You get several decent hours of sleep before you make your way back to Teller-Morrow Automotive and make sure the early rising sweetbutts and Half-Sack know how to decorate for the evening's festivities. Then after making sure everything is in order so the night will run smoothly, you swing by the local diner to pick up some breakfast before heading home.
You don't have to start getting ready until three or so, so you set an alarm and go back to sleep.
And then when your alarm goes off, you take your time in the shower to exfoliate and prepare yourself for the transformation you're about to go through.
The first thing you do after drying off is blow dry your hair. You don't want to curl it too soon, so you clip it at the back of your head to deal with later. Then shooting off a quick text to your neighbor to get her ass to your place, you get started on your makeup.
From your hairline down to the top of your chest, you paint yourself white. Your neighbor gets in just in time to paint the back of your neck and your back, and helps you decide where the best places to shade in black are. Your temples, eyes, mouth, neck and collar bones get shaded in black, and then your neighbor helps you glue on some golden decals around your face, brow, neck and collar bones. You use the gold paint to paint your nose and mouth, and then you keep a small fan on your face while your neighbor curls your hair for you before pinning it to one side of your head so your curls fall over your left shoulder.
As you're looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to put in some whiteout contact lenses to give you an even creepier vibe. Your neighbor helps you into your strapless white lace dress with a short train that looks as if you walked through ash, and then you dip your fingers into the golden paint one by one.
"Holy shit, babe. You look hot," your neighbor gushes. You wrinkle your nose at her, counting down the minutes until your fingers dry so you can be on your way. "Are you sure you're not trying to impress someone?"
"I'm not." You laugh. "I've had this costume planned for weeks. It's not my fault the hot guys came after."
"Hot guys? What hot guys?"
"Mayans from down south. There's this one in particular who keeps calling me pet names in Spanish. It's taking everything in me to not climb him like a tree."
Your neighbor laughs. "Well if you do, take a picture of him so when you give me all the filthy details, I'll have a face to put to the name."
"Will do."
When you're all set to go, you grab your golden starburst crown and carry it with you. You didn't want to put it on and hit the roof of your car, so you figure you'll just put it on when you get to your destination. Then after kicking your neighbor out and locking up, you find yourself in your car and heading back towards your place of employment.
The orange and black streamers along the fence line of TM Automotive makes you smile, as well as the purple twinkling lights you can barely see since the sun was still in the sky. Inside the parking lot, there are four long tables set up- each table draped in a black, orange, green or purple tablecloths. One table contains nothing but buckets of candy, another is lined with small bags of chips, another has juice boxes, and the last has fun pencils, pencil toppers, and tiny toy desk companions for the kids to play with. There are even Halloween inflatables- a Frankenstein, a patch of cruelly smiling pumpkins, and a black cat- and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.
Parking off to the side of the building and away from prying eyes, you hurriedly get out and use the reflection of your window to put your crown on. Once it's situated, you start your trek around the side of the building and towards the front where everyone is lingering about.
Jax spots you first and his brow furrows before you smile, wiggling gold-tipped fingers at him. "Cat got your tongue, Jackson?"
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"Holy shit! YN?"
Angel, who'd been laying on his bike, smirks before pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Damn, mami, you do that yourself?"
"Yep." You strike a pose for them before giggling. "So, I think my costume falls under the category of skeleton. Who had that?"
Bishop raises his hand and the gathered men all groan as a roll of bills are passed over to him. He's all swagger as he saunters up towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Te ves hermosa (you look beautiful)."
"Thank you, Obispo."
Everyone approaches you, getting a close up of your makeup and wondering if you truly did do it yourself. And after you've answered their questions, you're surprised when Creeper asks if he can take a picture with you.
"Yeah. Of course."
You oblige him, standing just to the side of him as he takes a seat on a chair. With one hand on his shoulder, you glance off to the side as he stares the camera head on. Then for the second picture, you're staring straight at the camera so they can capture how wicked your eyes look.
"What about me, querida? Do I get a picture too?" Angel asks.
"Oh! I have the perfect idea," Juice says. Then looking at Angel, he says, "Sit up."
You can only shake your head in amusement, stepping closer to Juice as Angel hands his phone to the Puerto Rican. Juice proceeds to have Angel sit sideways on his bike, feet planted on the ground so his knees are parted. Then you're instructed to stand between Angel's knees as one of his hands grips onto his handlebar and the other gently holds onto the back of your thigh. Your breath lightly hitches, but it's still obvious to Angel as he smirks up at you.
"Shut it," you mumble.
Juice then instructs you to lightly cradle the side of Angel's face in your hand, your gold-tipped fingers sticking out against his dark facial hair. You hear many catcalls and swallow down a laugh, finally snorting when you hear Opie grumble, "Goddammit. She wore makeup on purpose so we couldn't see her blush."
Juice snaps a couple pictures of you and Angel staring into each other's eyes, and then he moves to stand behind Angel's back. Now both of Angel's hands are on the back of your thighs and you're looking up over his head, staring directly at Juice as EZ fixes his brother's kutte upon Juice's suggestion. He has you looking at the camera head on then, and he snaps a few more pictures.
"Thank you, mi reina," Angel murmurs when you're finally allowed to step back.
You quietly groan and tug on the hair at his chin. "Shut it. I actually know what that one means."
He chuckles darkly and lets you walk away to collect yourself. Then as you make sure the tables are all set and those who are going to help you pass out the goodies are ready, Angel and Juice huddle together so Juice can edit the pictures on Angel's phone with settings that the Mexican didn't even know his phone had.
The trick-or-treating starts before the sun even sets.
Parents used to be hesitant to let their children into the decorated parking lot for Halloween, but you did the most to change everyone's opinion about the MC. Not everyone approved of the tactics the Sons used to keep their streets clean and children safe, but the locals were less hostile towards the Sons now and even uttered a greeting to them when seen out in public.
The Mayans sit off to the side with the Sons who haven't been tasked by YN to hand out goodies, sipping on their beers and eating food that someone had grilled.
"Man, the people of Santo Padre are nothing like this," EZ says, gesturing to the people who are laughing and taking pictures. "They either hate us or are terrified of us. None of them would greet us with smiles like this."
"It wasn't always like this," Jax says. "They used to tolerate us- greeting us to be polite but then scurrying away."
"What changed?" Bishop wonders.
"YN." Opie grins as he watches the woman he sees as a sister. "As soon as Clay and Gemma kicked the bucket, YN fought tooth and nail to turn shit around for us."
The Mayans all glance at Jax at the casual way Opie mentioned his mother and Clay's passing, and the blonde shrugs with a chuckle. "It's no secret YN was dying to get out of Charming because of Gemma and the trouble Clay landed us in, but with them out of the picture she decided to settle down and help clear the club's name."
Angel glances at YN, watching as the kids happily greet her while some even high five her in greeting. He only has eyes for the skeletal queen that Tig's chortle startles him out of his staring. "Oh shit, boys. Ima incoming."
Everyone glances in the direction Tig is looking, but only Creeper sits a little straighter at the blonde bombshell sauntering her way towards them in a sexy nurse outfit.
"She might be hot, gentlemen, but she's not worth the trouble," Jax says. He leans back in his seat, arching an eyebrow as the woman in question nears. "What are 'ya doing here, Ima?"
"It's a party, Mr. President," she muses. "Isn't it an open invitation?"
"It is, but you also know it's YN's favorite holiday and you take sick pleasure in pissing my sister off."
The tightening of her smile is obvious, but no one says anything. "I promise to be on my best behavior," she says. "And besides, we have guests." Her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at each and every Mexican. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't show them a good time?"
Opie snorts, not bothering to cover it up or explain himself as Ima glares at him.
"We're good, mujer," Bishop says.
"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.
Ima hears him and practically perks up, sauntering towards him and placing herself in his lap. Everyone chuckles, shaking their head, but they figure this is a mistake Creeper needs to make and learn from for himself.
"Well while you're diddling the Sons' sloppy seconds, I'm gonna go check on mi reina," Angel muses as he stands.
Jax chuckles. "I got twenty bucks that says you can't drag my sister away from candy duty."
"You're on, vato."
"YN?" Ima petulantly pouts. "If you're looking for a good time, I'm loads better."
Creeper quietly groans as EZ starts to laugh. "So close." He pushes Ima off his lap and the blonde scoffs before stomping off when she realizes the group of men are not going to cater to her hurt feelings. "Are all the females like her?"
"Nah. Most of them are pretty decent," Jax says. "They're just being on their best behavior right now because kids are coming and going, and they know my sister will kick their ass if they step one toe out of line."
Everyone watches as Angel takes his leave, startling YN as he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist while laying his chin on her shoulder.
"Are you really okay with that?" Bishop asks, gesturing to his secretary and Jax's younger sister. "If that's gonna be an issue, I'll warn him off."
"It's fine." Jax waves him off. "Let them have their fun. But if he tries to take her back to Santo Padre, then we're gonna have issues."
Opie laughs as EZ's smile falters. "YN is the only one who properly knows how to run the garage. If she splits, we're fucked."
Creeper chuckles as he keeps an eye out for a female to keep him company later on. "Don't say that, man. Bishop will encourage Angel to bring the girl home if it means she can get the office at the scrap yard in order."
Bishop salutes him with his beer bottle. "Chucky's a big help, but Lord knows we need someone else in there."
As the Mayans and Sons laugh over shared stories of Chucky and how he's faring down in Santo Padre now, Ima glares at the interactions from the opened doorway to the clubhouse. The hottest Mayan of the group chats up YN Teller and the other patched member she had sat on the lap of catches the attention of another passing sweetbutt. So far her night was not going well and she was not happy about it at all.
. .
. .
Once the trick-or-treating is over for the night, you head into the bathroom to remove the golden decals from your face, leaving them only on your neck and collar bones, and then retouch your Halloween makeup. You even lose the crown before grabbing a beer and then head over to the group of men you felt at ease with.
As you're walking towards an empty seat, Angel surprises you by grabbing you by the wrist to tug you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen, though it's tough to tell with the way you're all painted up, but Opie still snorts his amusement. "Goddammit. The makeup is still covering the blush."
Hearing his words, you glance over at your best friend and flip him off as you let yourself relax in Angel's embrace. By the way he's holding your waist, he has no intentions of letting you up. So turning on his lap and snuggling down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, you ask, "Am I here because you want me here or because the sweetbutts are circling?"
"Because I want you here." You take a sip of your beer, grinning. "And because your arch nemesis keeps making the rounds, waiting for a green light from one of us."
"Of course she is." Your eyes roll as you look for the blonde in question. "She's angling for the title of old lady, no matter the charter. Whatever puts her in a higher rank than me, she'll take it and then use her position to order me around."
"What's her deal?"
"She used to fuck my brother in hopes of him giving her his crow, but then Tara came into the picture and stole his attention. When she wouldn't let up, I kicked her ass." You lift your head to take another sip of your beer, smirking when Angel groans at the thought of you being violent. "Then she honed in on Opie after his wife died and I shut that shit down. He got together with Lyla soon after and Ima tried coming in between them, so I kicked her ass again."
"You like throwin' hands, don't you?"
"If I need to, then yeah. I'm very protective of those I consider mine," you tell him. "So, if you need someone's ass beat down in Santo Padre, you know where to find me."
Angel chuckles as the hand resting on your thigh squeezes. "I'm yours, huh?"
"Mhm," you hum.
Your lips twitch as you hold his stare, your gaze briefly glancing at his lips as you subconsciously lean towards him. All the noise surrounding you seems to fall away, but before anything interesting can happen, a hand is landing on your shoulder.
"Goddammit, Tig! I was just about to win the bet," Juice complains.
Jax, Opie, Happy, Chibs, Bishop, and EZ explode with laughter, and you narrow your eyes at all of them. "What bet?"
"How long it'd take for you and Angel to hook-up," your brother muses.
Angel chuckles beneath you and you roll your eyes, standing up. As you finish off your beer, Tig says, "Hey sweet face, I heard Ima spreading some rumors about you to anyone who'll listen."
From the corner of your eye, you see the blonde in question falter in her steps, but you pay her no mind. "I don't give a shit who talks behind my back. Bitch knew better than to let me hear." Tig laughs, his gaze darting between you and Ima, but she doesn't say anything in response. Sighing, you then glance around at all the men who were hoping for some drama. "Anyone need a beer?"
As the night progresses, Angel's lap becomes your personal seat. You've tried four different times to sit on a couch or chair, especially when a sweetbutt sidled up to him when you made a trip to the bar or bathroom, but he always caught you and dragged you back towards him as you tried to pass. No one said a word and the sweetbutts backed off when they realized you were interested in him, but you had to shake your head at your brother when you could see the amusement and approval in his eyes.
You ended up having only two beers before you switched to water since you still had to drive home, and Angel stopped after three. Everyone's talking and laughing, and it makes your heart happy to see both MC's getting along.
By the third time you've yawned, Angel taps your thigh and urges you to stand up. "Come on, hermosa. Let's go."
"Go? Go where?"
"You need sleep."
Angel grabs your hand just as you catch Jax's gaze and at his arched eyebrow, you shake your head. You will not be spending the night in the dorms.
But still you walk hand-in-hand with Angel, letting him lead the way down a familiar hallway and towards a dorm that Jax most likely assigned him. Just as he moves to grab the key from his pocket, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. "As much as I wanna spend the night with you, I need to go home." Angel glances at you in surprise, mouth opening to reply, but you push on. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping with all this makeup on," you say while gesturing to your face and upper body. "And I need my contact case for the lenses. I actually really like these."
Angel sighs, realizing you have a point. He gives up on the hunt for his room key, turning so his back is to the wall and he's holding onto both of your hands loosely in front of him. "Too bad, querida. We roll out as soon as we wake up tomorrow."
A moment of silence lingers between the two of you before your lips twitch. "Well.. you could always come back to mine." You step closer, dropping one of his hands so your hand can cradle the side of his neck before sliding back and scraping the back of his neck with your nails. His eyelids flutter as he quietly groans and you smirk. "Bed's big enough for more than one person."
"Is that right?" Angel gulps.
"Yep." You pull on his neck so he lowers his face towards you, but stop him when he's close enough for your lips to brush his. "Think of all the uninterrupted fun we could have." He tries to capture your lips, but you pull back just out of reach. "I would kiss 'ya, but I'm not about to smear my makeup all around your mouth and let those idiots out front know exactly what's going on."
His resolve seems to harden right before your eyes. "House. Now."
As soon as Angel straightens up, his grip tightens on your one hand and he practically drags you out of the hallway. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, your laughter growing louder at the whoops and hollers you hear from both the Sons and Mayans as they watch him drag you away. Suddenly, you're very grateful for your skeletal makeup because you can feel your face and ears burning.
As you near the exit to the clubhouse, you can't help but smirk as you flip off Ima who's watching you and Angel with a frown.
Happy Halloween indeed.
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