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#neron creeper vargas
imagineredwood · 2 months
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"So, what are you gonna do?"
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Request: Creeper and reader imagine finding out she's pregnant after she left him and wanting her back
Pairing: Creeper Vargas x female reader
Warnings: Arguing, breakups, hidden pregnancy, crying, angst with no comfort at least in this part
Word count: 2.9K
A/N: I'll do a part two to this, I'm just sleepy and I want to take a nap but I wanted to get this out for yall first lol What would yall like to see? Groveling? Happy ending? Should she make him sweat? Should she just understand and forgive that tensions were high? Let me know💕
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"Fuck."
You cursed as you held the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hand. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not in the slightest. Life was already complicated and messy enough as it was. Things with the club were tense, the war against other charters of their own club creating an air of chaos that amplified day by day. Creep tried his best to soothe you. Take away the worry. Tell you that everything was going to be fine, you just had to wait it out. But it didn't feel that way. It seemed like every time you turned around, it was a shooting or a bombing, your nerves frazzled. It had caused a rift between the two of you. Him feeling like you nagged too much, you feeling like he only ever disregarded you. The two of you had fought significantly more than you had fucked recently and yet now here you were, already apprehensive of where the relationship would end up, now with a baby getting thrown into the mix. You'd been careful, at least you'd thought so. But luck wasn't on your side, it seemed.
Throwing down the pregnancy test into the trash, the fourth to be exact, you held your head in your hands as you sat atop the closed toilet lid. You had no idea how this was going to go. You’d mentioned kids before, sure, but you hadn’t talked about it extensively. You had no idea how he would feel about a baby right now, and all that uncertainty did was make you feel even worse. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. You would have to sit down with him tonight and establish some boundaries. Make him see that he couldn’t just placate and then disregard you anymore. It wasn’t just about you two now. There was a third life involved, and you needed to know where his head was at. It was a talk that was a long time coming, and you hoped that it would go smoothly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Enough with this shit already. Fuck!”
Creepers voice was harsh as he cursed, exasperated with you.
“Every fuckin’ day it’s the same shit with you. I get home and it’s immediately gotta be a fuckin’ war, like I don’t deal with that shit in the clubhouse. Coming home is supposed to be relaxing. I should get home and feel happy to be here, grab a beer and just shoot the shit with you, watch some TV, cuddle, something! But no, I come home and it’s a fuckin’ interrogation every night. I can’t take this shit anymore!”
You sat at the table silent, eyes welled to the brim with tears that you begged not to fall. You stared at him, feeling helpless and hopeless. You hadn’t meant to start a fight. You were just trying to get him to see that you wanted him around more. That you missed him. That you worried for him. That you needed more from him. That you needed to know that you could count on him All you’d managed to do however, was start the millionth argument of the month. You kept your voice low, half to deescalate, half to stop yourself from crying.
“I’m just trying to get you to meet me half way. I know you’re stressed, and I know you guys are struggling, I know. I just…I need to know that you’ll try to be present more. For us.”
You caught yourself with the last word, but thankfully he didn’t realize, simply thinking you meant the relationship. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, his own voice quieter when he spoke again.
"I just...I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t be out here taking you on dates every night, spending the whole weekend with you, going on getaways. I know you need me but so does the club. Hang out with the girls. Go shopping with them. Go to the movies with them. It doesn’t always need to be me. It can’t always be me. I can't balance you and the club in the way you expect me to. One keeps losing out and at the end of the day, the club comes first. I told you that in the beginning."
You stared at him blankly. Sure, he’d said that before. In the beginning before you had even really gotten serious. You had taken it as a warning that things might not move in the way that you were used to. But you were well past that, you thought. Your voice was shaky as you inquired.
“Do you still feel that way?”
He stared at you, not wanting to have to say it. But you needed to hear it. You would need to hear it directly from his mouth if you were going to have to leave; because you would leave. If he couldn’t find some way to compromise - to find it within himself not to volunteer for every single little thing and at least try to be there for you more, then there was no sense. You had put yourself through it for three years. You refused to put your child through it. If you were going to find the strength to leave, you needed to hear him say it.
“Feel what way?”
You blinked and finally managed to look at him, his chest aching at the tears in your eyes.
“That the club comes before me. That even with how much I’ve tried and begged and pleaded and supported and waited for things to get better…that you still love it more than me. More than us.”
There it was again. Us.
The Mayan groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face roughly, eyes tired and somewhat cold as they regarded you. He shrugged, tattooed arms held out to the sides.
“You knew what this was when you got with me. This is who I am. This is what you get.”
You stared at him, and finally you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They cascaded down your cheeks and you felt like you could feel your heart breaking within your chest. Because it was done. You’d asked him to make the choice, and now finally after trying to save your feelings all this time, he’d finally been honest and chosen.
And it wasn’t you.
You knew if you told him you were pregnant, it might’ve changed things. He had always bashed deadbeats. Said how important it was for kids to have their fathers around. But you also felt it pointless. If he would change, you knew for a fact it wasn’t for you. It was because of the baby. Even by giving him the gift of life, he didn’t find you important or worthy enough to change for. And who was to say that change would stick. He’d change for the moment, but would he bail out on appointments and sonograms? Would he miss the birth, too preoccupied with a deal? Miss birthdays and recitals just to carry out hits? That wouldn’t be fair. Not to you and not to the baby. You were a grown woman; you didn’t need him. Wanted him, sure. But you didn’t need him. The kid would, and it wouldn’t be fair to them. It was up to you to protect them. To give them the best life possible. And bringing them into the world with an absent father who picked and chose when to be present wasn’t something you were going to sentence your baby to. You knew firsthand how bad it felt to always come second. You wouldn’t do that to them.
So you simply nodded, standing up from your place on the sofa, tears blurring your vision.
“Well, I guess that settles that.”
You didn’t really have much else to say, at least nothing that would make a difference. You wanted to cry and scream and plead, but you’d done enough of that, and it hadn’t made much of a difference any other time. No. You would keep your dignity. With the back of your hand, you wiped away your tears and made your way to the bedroom, ignoring his voice as it spoke from behind you.
“So that’s it huh?”
You didn’t respond, only went into the closet and grabbed your duffel bag, tossing enough clothing for a few days into it. You had moved in with Neron after a year, the Mayan feeling that you would be safer if you lived with him. You had obliged, and now wished that you had kept your place. Even still, you would go out and find an apartment tomorrow if you could. It was late already, nearly one in the morning. You would stay in a hotel tonight and begin the search for a place to live tomorrow.
You were stuffing bras and panties into the bag when he entered the room silent as he stood behind you and watched for a little while unsure what to say.
“You don’t have to leave. You can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch. We can talk tomorrow when you’ve had time to calm down.”
You shook your head. He might have thought you were just being dramatic, but you knew this was what you had to do.
“Nothing to talk about. You’ve made it clear what your priorities are. I just have to come to terms with that, and I am. We’re not compatible. Better I find out now than…later.”
You force yourself to stop there, not wanting to say too much.
“OK, but it’s the middle of the night. You can’t just leave and…go where?”
“Hotel. Don’t worry about me. It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not staying here.”
He grumbled and threw his hands up, his anger flaring.
“Whatever. Do what you want.”
“I am.”
You made your way into the bathroom and grabbed your toiletries, tossing them into your bag as well. Chargers, phone, keys, wallet. Everything you would need these next few days. You zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, walking past him and out of the room and heading to the front door. He trailed after you, seeing that you were fully serious. Your throat and chest ached, but you refused to let him see you cry. You would wait until you pulled away.
Making your way to the front door, you slipped on your shoes, Creepers eyes on you.
“I’ll tell Steve to grab the rest of my stuff.”
That was all you gave him before you went out the front door, his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked. He said nothing as he watched you, angry but knowing to just stay quiet. He would let you take your few days to calm down and then he would sit down and talk to you when you came back.
“Text me when you get there. So I know you’re safe.”
You didn’t respond and simply closed the driver-side door behind you, pulling out of the driveway, knowing you were going to block him for at least a week so you could begin healing. You needed to start fresh. Both for yourself and for your child.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“She’s serious.”
Steve winced and nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeah, man. She wants me to take it to that storage place. She’ll keep it there until…”
Creeper knew the rest of the sentence. He didn’t have to say it.
“Until she finds were she’s gonna live.”
Steve nodded, hating the tension. Creeper shrugged, feigning indifference, but inside his heart was aching. He let the prospect in, silently carrying some bins with him to pack up the rest of your things. He disappeared into the room and Creeper sat down on the soda, pulling out his phone. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It had been two days, and he hadn’t heard from you. He only knew you were ok because of Steve. You’d grown close to the prospect, trusted him. You saw him like a brother, and normally Creeper was thankful for it. Now he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy. He hadn’t heard anything from you, and he knew he was blocked based of his calls and messages being prevented from going through. He knew you had been upset about the way things had been, but he hadn’t thought you would actually leave him over it. He realized now that maybe he should have been more patient, more open to compromise. It had only been two days and already the house felt cold and bleak. You’d taken the warmth away with you.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there contemplating his actions and shortcomings, but it was long enough for Steve to be done, the last bin stacked up at the door. Creeper looked at him, anger that wasn’t directed at him.
“Look after her. Make sure she’s good. Let me know if anything happens.”
The Prospect nodded quickly, remembering that you had told him the exact opposite. He would help you. You were his friend after all.
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“Thank you, Steve.”
You wiped the sweat on your brow and so did the Prospect, the bins finally in your new bedroom. You were thankful for him. You wouldn’t have been able to get all of them into and out of the storage, then into the truck and into your new apartment if it weren’t for him. He’d been a godsend with this break up and you made sure to try and pay him handsomely for his help. He’d declined. So instead, you’d forced him to at least yet you pay him in fresh lemonade and soft pretzels, and he’d been inclined to concede. Now all had been brought in and you could finally start unpacking, thanks to him.
“I really appreciate you doing this more me, Steve. It means a lot. It wouldn’t taken me forever without your help. I would’ve had to get someone and I’m sure they would’ve taken all the money they could from me. I can’t thank you enough. This place will be good for us.”
The Prospect nodded, brows furrowed as he looked down at the floor.
“You keep saying ‘us’. Do you have a new boyfriend already?”
Your eyes widened, caught, but Steve interpreted your surprise as indignation. He began to backpedal immediately.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate or anything. It’s none of my business anyway, I just noticed you said us a few times and I wondered if maybe you had found someone else and I didn’t want them to get upset that I was in here alone with you because you’re just my friend and I would never-“
“Steve.”
You silenced him with a hand and utterance of his name. You were already moved in and more or less set up. The unpacking you could do at your own pace, but the couch and bed were already assembled, the fridge on and stocked. You were good now. It didn’t matter if he found out.
“I’m pregnant.”
Steve’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes bugging as he stared at you.
“And Creep just let you leave?”
You shook your head, eyes still on the prospect.
“He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”
He nodded and looked like he could pass out. You felt bad and sighed, trying to ease him.
“You don’t have to keep it a secret. I wouldn’t put that on you. You don’t have to lie or hide things for me. I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I’m just telling you the truth. That’s why it was so important for you to help me with this and why I appreciate it so much. I needed to get back on my feet.”
He nodded, understanding, and looking a little less stressed now.
“It’s ok if you tell him. It won’t change anything.”
He nodded again and you smiled, pouring him another glass of lemonade for the road.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“She’s what?”
Creepers eyes were on fire as he stared at the prospect. Steve shifted uncomfortably under Creeper’s gaze, as well as the others who looked just as shocked.
“Y-yeah. She’s not too far along. Like two months or something, I think. I don’t really know.”
His voice was small as he spoke, everyone looking at Creep now.
“And she knew when she left.”
He wasn’t really asking, but Steve nodded anyway.
“She said she needed to get back on her feet. Make sure she had a placed that was safe so she could start over.”
Steve’s words were like knives, even though he knew the prospect wasn’t trying to hurt him. Hank stood and tossed an arm around his shoulders.
“You did good helping her. Let’s get a drink.”
He walked them both into the clubhouse, leaving Creep, Bishop, Angel, and EZ outside. They stared at their brother, no one talking for a while.
“So, what are you gonna do?”
Creeper stood there motionless, unable to answer Angel’s question. It was Bishop who answered for him.
“He’s gonna get it the fuck together and go get his woman back. He’s gonna apologize, say that he was a fuckin’ idiot, that he wasn’t thinking, and it was a mistake to let her go, crawl on his hands and knees if he has to, and show her that she can count on him. That they both can. Whether she takes him back or not.”
Bishop took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes staring off into the distance as he felt his heart clench as he thought about his own late child.
“He’s gonna make sure he owns up to his mistakes and spend time with her, so he can be there for his kid and watch them grow up.”
His eyes landed back on Creeper then, his gaze stern.
“That’s what he’s gonna do.”
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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​
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Hi and for the love of God hello 👋🏼 after going back and forth i’ve decided to try my hand at writing for the mayans boys and the sons we all know and love! Please feel free to hit up my ask box <3
Requests: Open
who i write for:
- Mayans MC
• Angel Reyes
• Ez Reyes
• Coco Cruz
• Nestor Oceteva
• Neron “Creeper” Vargas
• Bishop Losa
• Hank Loza
• Gilly Lopez
• Michael “Riz” Ariza
- Sons Of Anarchy
• Jax Teller
• Juice Ortiz
• Opie Winston
• Happy Lowman
• Herman Kozik
• Filip “Chibs” Telford
• Alexander “Tig” Trager
What i take requests for:
• Headcanons
• Preferences
• Would includes
• Most likely to’s
What i don’t take requests for:
• Smut
• Self harm of any kind - talking about the reader having a mental illness is fine but i’m not comfortable writing about them harming themselves
• Reader being related to any of the characters
• Toxic relationships - We’re all about healthy, loving relationships in this house!
any gifs used are not mine!
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bullet-prooflove · 11 months
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Talk Dirty To Me (NSFW) - Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader
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Tagging: @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @corruptedcoffin @redpoodlern @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @samanthaofanarchy @lexondeck
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You’re a work of art, Neron has thought that since the moment he met you. Those pretty floral tattoos sweeping up your arms, he likes to trace his fingers over them, following the lines and flourishes until he reaches your shoulders. His palms chase the daisies and roses that decorate the curve of your waist, until his hands rest firmly over the swell of your hips, holding them in place tight against his own as he loves you from behind.
There’s nothing more beautiful than you spread open on his mattress. Hair falling over your face as you bury it even deeper between his pillows to stifle the noise you make as he fucks you with long drawn out strokes that make you sing out his name.
“You like that, nene?” he asks you as he presses deep. “Feels like you were made for this cock. So wet and fucking tight. The perfect fit for me.”
You can’t speak. The pleasure of being with him is too much for words alone so you moan, biting down on the fabric of the pillowcase because when Neron gets you like this you can’t help but be loud.
“Taking me so fucking well.” He tells you, his gaze lowering to the space where his cock disappears inside of you. "Such a good fucking girl for me."
He learned in the early days of the relationship how you respond to praise; that it ignites some erotic part inside of your brain, heightening the sensations and driving you wild.  The right words at the right time from Neron…
They ruin you.
“Fuck baby you feel so good.” He rasps, his voice rough as his hips start to stutter. “Gonna come Mami, gonna fill you up until it leaks out around my cock so that you remember it's me that loves you the most.”
Those words, this man.
You combust around him, the orgasm igniting like a star through your synapses and consuming you entirely. It’s the noise that tips him over the edge, that muffled shriek as your body tenses, gripping his cock he can’t help but lose it. He fucks you through it, drawing those deviant little cries from your lips as he watches his cum drip from that perfect little pussy of yours. He uses his thumb to smear it around your opening, his dick still buried deep inside of you.
It’s territorial, he knows it but you’re his and it’s moments like this that remind of shit like that because deep down he’s insecure, he craves the intimacy of being with you. The act itself, the aftermath…
“Fuck nene, I love you so much.” He tells you. “Seeing you covered in me…”
He trails off because he can’t describe what it means to him, how it makes him feel to have you wrecked in his sheets. He never thought he’d have something this beautiful in his life, something so perfect, his heart hurts at the thought of losing it.
“I know.” You tell him, your cheeks flushed pink as you look at him over your shoulder. “Christ Neron, it means everything to me too.”
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In the aftermath Neron can’t help but touch you. His palms trace over the curves of your naked form, his lips ghosting over the rose tattoo etched up the side of your throat. His body is pressed against the length of yours, skin against skin, ink against ink. The tattoos, they bleed into one another, colours and shapes clashing, your softness against his rougher edges. Contrasting but complementary, all at the same time. His thumb trails over the outline of your jaw as he looks into your eyes, his mouth brushing over yours with the softest of kisses.
“You’re so beautiful Mami.” He whispers against your lips. “Like God himself painted you and set you down on this earth just for me.”
Your fingertips follow the line of his pert mouth, he captures them in his hand, pressing delicate kisses to the pads of your fingers.
“Can’t get enough of you.” He tells you, his expressive eyes fixed on yours as he guides your hand lower, underneath the sheets before placing it on his stiffening cock. “Just had you and I want you even more, need to be filling up that pussy again nene, showing you just how much I love you.”
His fingers delve between your legs, his fingertips radiating heat as he moves in slow, stimulating circles that make your skin flush with ecstasy.
“Think you can so that for me Mami?” he asks you, his lips brushing over yours. “Think you can be good to me and give me a little more? Think that you take me again?”
He kisses you as his fingers seek out your wetness, still slick and leaking with his cum. His thumb presses down just a little on your clit, fingertips teasing around the entrance. You whimper into his mouth, nails scratching his skin as he allows one of his fingers to slip inside of you, pushing directly on that sweet spot.
“Yea Mami,” he murmurs against the corner of your mouth. “I think you’ve got another round in you.”
Love Creeper? 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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shyanddreamy · 7 months
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You can't save everyone
Happy Lowman x Reader | Part 1
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Nights at the club were always great, but not as great as this one. This night was savage; it was pretty obvious that Sons knew how to party. Music was loud and booze was plentiful, and after another round of tequila shots, there you were, observing them with a stupid drunken smile in your face. You wasn´t sure at the beginning, when you first moved to Charming, but you like them. They were your family. Or the closest thing to a family you had ever known.
Your gaze met with Happy’s eyes, who had a croweater sitting on his lap. That woman was dynamite, she was one of the prettiest, and had made clear her preference for Happy. Even so, the passionate way she kissed his neck was not to your liking. After a few minutes of awkward eye contact, he decided to push her aside and walked towards you.
“Are you having fun?”, you asked him.
“I am”
At that time, he had his hands on your hips and his lips dangerously close to yours. You weren’t his Old Lady; not even his girl. The first time he brought you to the clubhouse, he told his brothers you were a friend. His exact words were “someone you can trust”, but your relationship was much deeper than just that.
Without saying any other word, he kissed you softly. He looked all tough, but he liked that kind of kisses. Hardly anyone would think that Happy could be delicate, but you knew it well. You swore you could have melted on his arms sometimes. But this time wasn’t one of them.
“I’m not gonna fuck you, Hap”, you murmured.
“Why?”, he asked you with his raspy voice.
“That croweater had touched you everywhere by now. You even have remnants of her red lipstick on your neck”, you said as he put more distance between both. “I don’t eat leftovers”.
His grimace didn’t change at all; it was as impassive as always.
“So, I better go”, he suggested.
You didn’t answer to that. It was pointless. You wanted him to stay and enjoy the rest of the party together, talk with his brothers and the rest, have fun, drink more… But what Happy wanted was different, so you just nodded and let him go. And he left for the dorms, but not before putting an arm around the shoulders of that croweater who willingly accompanied him.
It was nothing that hadn’t happened a dozen times before. You knew him and his way of life. And maybe you weren’t much better. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t hurt anymore, but it was a bit disappointing and always left a bitter taste.
It was a long time ago when you first met Happy. Now you could say it was a funny story, more or less. Someone had killed one of his brothers in Tacoma and Happy broke into your house at night accusing you of being the murderer. Actually, it was pretty scary to see Happy in your living room with a loaded gun ready to pull the trigger after getting your confession. But you were innocent. Apparently, the offender who shot the Son was driving your car, that’s how they thought you were guilty.
“The car isn’t mine”, you assured him. “Is new. Stolen”.
“Liar”
“If I wanted to make up an excuse, I would have chosen a better one, dickhead”, you said. “Yesterday, someone tipped me off about an abandon car not far from here. My intentions were to give it a coat of paint, make a few changes, and sell it again. I need the money, that’s all. I haven’t killed anybody”.
“Who?”, he asked you. Since the beginning, you learnt that chatty wasn’t a good adjective to describe Happy.
“Who what?”
“Who told you about the car”.
Although he was deadly serious, you smirked slightly.
“I know how you guys work. You hate rats”, you warned him. “And I ain’t no rat”.
Happy was intimidating in the distance, but even more when he was near. However, you kept your chin up. He was at your home accusing you of committing a murder you haven’t done. You had nothing to be ashamed of.
“I’m gonna get out of your house with his name”, he insisted. “And it would be better for you to talk now, or we won’t chat anymore”.
“What will happen to him?”
“Not your business”
You moistened your lips and intensified your gaze, while his grew darker by the second.
“That motherfucker beat me up twice. If you promise me you’re gonna kill him, I’ll gladly tell you his name”.
You had done some business with him before, but he was a little piece of shit who was always trying to play you. World would be a better place without him.
“That’s a promise I can keep, little one.”
Happy killed the guy two days after. And it would have been the last time you would have seen him if it hadn’t been for a prospect, who decided to show up in your house more than two weeks after that meeting. Apparently, Happy had sent him to invite you to the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse on Friday night. You thought about it all week before finally deciding to go. It was a dangerous move, but bad choices in life had always made it more interesting.
When you arrived at the club not knowing what to expect, you found it crowded. A lot of booze, lots of drugs and lots of noisy drunks. You noticed Happy minutes after your entrance, but he spent almost an hour staring at you from the distance while you were drinking in the bar counter talking with the prospect. He was the one who invited you, so he was the one who had to make the first move. Until he finally did.
“You’re here”, he said as he sat in the stool next to you.
“You wanted me here”, you clarified. “Why?”
“I liked our talk”.
“The part where you threatened to kill me or the part where you threatened to harm me?”, you asked him ironically.
“All of it, I suppose”.
“So, why am I here?”, you insisted.
“Wanted to see you again”, he answered.
You smiled slightly, shook your head, and took a sip of your beer.
“If these are your best phrases to flirt, I have to say that they’re lame”.
“I don’t usually need more”.
You gave him a look, but he was completely confident. And strange as it may seem, it worked. That tough appearance, his mysticism and those black eyes that seemed capable of knowing what you were thinking actually worked.
You spent a few hours in the clubhouse barely talking, drinking, smoking, and watching the stupid things drunks usually do. It was an unpredictable night, but it was a good one. And when he offered to drive you home, when you got there, you let him in.
“That thing your brother asked you. What he called me”, you said, unable to remember the word. “He asked you if I were a new…”
“Croweater”, he answered.
“What does it mean?”
“The chicks who are always around the club. To serve us some drinks. To hook up”, he briefly explained to you. “That’s a croweater”.
“I’m not a croweater”, you assured him completely serious. In response, he reduced the distance between both and brought his hand to the back of your neck with a softness you weren’t expecting from him.
“I know.”
That was the first night you spent together, but it was far from being the last. From that day on, you started seeing each other almost weekly. He would come to your house at night, you would fuck, and he would leave in the morning. Maybe it was because the sex was great, maybe it was something else. There was not much talk, but eventually –and just sometimes– you shared something more about yourselves and your lives. It could be just a stupid story from your childhood or a dream from last night, but it was nice. It felt right. Nevertheless, after a few months with that routine, Happy announced you one day that he was going nomad, which meant he was leaving Tacoma.
“First time I saw you, I thought you were dangerous”, you confessed to him on his last night, both naked on the bed. You were outlining his tattoos with your fingertips. The truth was that you felt safe with him. Your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beats, his arms around you, his calm breathing… You would miss it. “And I know you are dangerous, but it’s not the kind of danger I imagined. You are fucking addictive, Happy.”
When his lips kissed your head affectionately, you closed your eyes trying to feel as much as you could now, so you could remember it once he was gone.
“I understand the feeling. I feel it too.”
For long weeks, you didn’t hear anything from him. It was as if he had vanished. And it was awful. It was until one day Happy called you to say he had two days off and suggested you spend them together. Obviously, you accepted it. You couldn’t refuse that offer. When he left again, the pain came back, but that time something changed. After those days, he started calling you more often. The calls were sporadic and brief. He didn´t talk much in person, so he didn’t on the phone either. But hearing his voice was enough for your sad soul. Anyways, they were always the same three questions: “how are you going?”, “are you safe?”, and “haven’t you killed anybody yet?” He never said “I miss you” or anything like that, but you knew he did. Words weren’t necessary.
Perhaps he had his reasons, but came the moment when he announced to you that he was no longer wanted to be a nomad. Instead, he was moving to Charming. And surprisingly, he asked you to go with him. It was an easy decision to take, as there was nothing special to stay in Tacoma for.
“I want to know why you want me to go there. With you”, you told him the day he knocked on your door with that proposition.
“I’m going to be there. And I want you to be there with me too. That’s all.”
“I don’t get it, Happy”, you insisted. “I don’t get anything that’s going on between us. We've been doing this, whatever this is, for a long time.”
Happy tensed his jaw. He knew as well as you that it was strange, but you have never had that conversation.
“I like having you around. Spending time with you. And I don’t want it to end”, he responded. Happy wasn’t the kind of man who was good at expressing his feelings, but this time he seemed genuine. “I want to keep you close. Know that you’re safe. And you're always gonna be safe with me”.
At his words, you felt your hearth melt.
“It’s crazy, Hap. Where am I gonna live? I don’t have enough money to move at the moment.”
“I’ve already got a house there”, he said. “And you’ll have your own dorm. We can share the rent. That way's cheaper”.
“Always thinking about ways to spend the less amount of money”, you smirked as you walked towards him and put your arms around his neck. “The money is your only reason? Is not because you want to be able to fuck me more often?”
Although he curved the corners of his mouth into a mischievous smile, Happy just shrugged his shoulders.
“Moving together is a big step. It could be kind of scary”, you murmured against his lips.
“I’ve seen a lot of scary things in my life. This is not going to scare me, Y/N.”
That’s how you ended up in Charming. And unlike when you were in Tacoma, in Charming you spent a lot more time with the Sons. Almost every afternoon and every night you were in the club, with them, and it was perfect. At least it was perfect at the beginning. As time goes by, the coexistence became more difficult, adding the fact that the dark times were harder than you might have expected. Every time Happy left, you didn’t know if he would come back. And when he was there, he wanted to be with you as soon as bang any random chick. Waiting worried for his life only to see him go into the arms of a croweater on his return was harsh. But you got used to it.
The problem was that now you were in what seemed to be a long period of peace. And without more fights and deaths, you had begun to hope something else. Something more. You weren't sure of what it was, but there were things that were wrong. It no longer felt right.
After several unsuccessful attempts to keep the fun going, you decided it would be better for you to go home. Unfortunately, Chibs noticed your intentions.
“Going home already?”, he asked you. “Thought you were going to wait for Happy.”
“I don’t mind walking home.”
“You’re alright, lass?”, he insisted. Chibs was too perceptive sometimes.
“Don’t know”, you muttered with a little sad smile. “I need to think”.
“I’ll tell Happy you left”, he nodded. “Keep yourself out of trouble.”
“As always, Pres.”
In your way home, once everything around you were in complete silence, you tried to rethink about what had happened tonight. But this time, you tried to be completely honest with yourself. And the truth was that you couldn’t bear it anymore. You were tired and stagnant. Life was too short, even more when you were in the outlaw world. Maybe it was time for a change.
*
As someone entered in your dorm, you opened your eyes.
“Didn’t want to wake you up”, Happy said.
“It’s okay”, you sighed.
“Can I come in?”
“You never ask for permission.”
“You never go home without me”, he answered back. However, he decided to walk towards the bed and lie next to you in the space you had already made for him.
Having two bedrooms, you didn’t always sleep together, but Happy used to enter in your room even if it was only to spend some minutes in there with you. You loved that habit as much as you loved to embrace him and lay your head on his chest. Nevertheless, this time you stayed in the same position you were before.
“What time is it?”
“Midday”, he replied.
“Have you come back now?”
“A while ago. I've taken a shower before.”
“I’m glad you don’t stain my sheets with red lipstick.”
You heard Happy sigh, but he didn’t answer. You understood that dialogue wasn’t his thing, but sometimes his silence was exasperating.
 “I think I need to go.”
“Where?”, he asked you.
“Don’t know. Far from Charming”
“Why? And for what?”
“Stop with the fucking questions”, you complained. “I just need to go. I can’t stay here anymore”.
“Are you running away from me?”
Listening those words from his mouth was painful, so you needed a few seconds to calm down before you turned on the bed to look at him. His eyes were fixed on yours as if he wasn’t able to look at anything else.
“I don’t want to run away from you, but I need it”.
“That makes no sense”.
“It makes sense for me”.
“Is because that hoe? Are you mad at me?”, he asked, frowned.
You took your hand to his face, caressing his cheek softly, but his expression did not relax in the slightest.
“You are the most valuable thing I have in my life, Happy, and I’m glad you let me into your life and spend so much time with you. But lately things have changed. I need to leave Charming and clarify my ideas. And then I’ll come back”.
“Or maybe you never do it”, he retorted.
You felt the tears in your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back.
“I love you in a way you can’t reciprocate. And it’s okay. I’m not mad at you for that. But every time I realize you don’t feel the same… It’s killing me, Happy. And I don’t want to end up dead inside.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, he wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to his chest like most mornings. And once again, there were no words from him. You decided to caress his abdomen while his fingers caressed your body with tenderness. You would have stayed in this exact moment forever, but it was just a fantasy.
“I have to go to Santo Padre in two days”, he announced. From time to time, he went there for club business. “You can come with me. Maybe the travel is good for you. We can talk more. Spend more time together. Just us”.
“Okay. I’ll think about it”.
*
The club wasn't worried about the fact that you were going to Santo Padre with Happy. They trusted him with their lives, so they asked no questions about his decision to take you with him this time. So, with just a backpack as your baggage, you got into the van and started your journey.
In a normal situation, you wouldn’t have talked much unless you tried to engage in conversation. But this time, you didn’t. Actually, you didn’t even know what to say. Anyway, the conversation was light and trivial. It did not escape your notice that Happy was more talkative than usual. Maybe he was doing an effort.
After hours of travelling, you arrived at Santo Padre, Mayans’ territory. They were waiting for Happy in their clubhouse, so there was where you went. You felt some gazes on you as you got out of the van, but it could be just curiosity given that it was strange for them to see Happy with feminine company while he was doing business.
The right thing would be to wait until Happy was done at a prudent distance, but your bladder was full by then, so your only option was to ask them as politely as you could if you could go inside to use the bathroom. You knew they do trust Happy when they let you into the clubhouse alone, without one of them keeping an eye on you. Or maybe they could tell by your face that you really needed to go to the bathroom urgently. Unfortunately, when you opened the door, you found out that someone was already in there.
“Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry”, you said, half-closing the door again in a rush. “Can you just hurry? If not, I think I’m gonna make a mess and I don’t…”
You couldn’t end the phrase before the Mayan who was inside came out of the bathroom, letting the place completely free for you. You saw his smile, as if he was ready to laugh at your desperation or to make an ironic remark, but you didn’t have time for that either. So, as soon as you crossed the door, you closed it in his face.
“Fucking Happy”, you growled. You had told him that you needed to stop somewhere for a toilet break, but he had insisted that you were almost there. Of course, that wasn´t true at all.
Once you left the clubhouse, relieved, you decided to wait near the van until their man talk ended. It only took about ten minutes more before Happy shook hands with the Mayans Pres.
“We’re ready to go”, he said to you.
“Can you drop me off in the city centre?”, you asked him, but Happy frowned in confusion.
“You’re not coming with me?”
“I’ve never told you that”, you answered.
“But I thought… We are far from Charming. That’s what you wanted”.
“It is not what I wanted. I need to take a time for myself. I already explained you that”.
Happy tensed his jaw, but he added nothing more. So, assuming that the conversation was over, you threw away the cigarette and went inside the van again. Happy hesitated, but in last instance, he approached again to Mayans Pres and VP, who had been watching you still outside their clubhouse.
“I have to ask you a personal favour, Bish”, he told him. Even though from your position you could not hear him, you had a good idea of what he was saying. “She’s gonna stay here for a while, in the city. I would appreciate if you could keep an eye on her. Just in case”.
“Ok. No problem”, Bishop answered. However, he was a little confused. He wasn´t expecting Happy to be dealing with that kind of things.
As Happy got into the driver’s seat, you glanced over him with your arms crossed.
“I can take care of myself”, you mumbled.
“I know.”
The short drive was in completely silence, but this time, it was an awkward one. However, it was impossible for you decipher what Happy was thinking. And once he stopped the van again where you had asked him, you knew this was it.
“I should go now, I guess”, you said, but Happy did not open his mouth. He even refused to look at you. You weren’t expecting one last kiss or a deep conversation, but at least a goodbye would have been nice. “Take care, Happy”.
As soon as you opened the door, his hand caught your forearm. Every single muscle of his body was tense, and his gaze was more intense than ever before.
“Call me”, he simply said. “If you need something. Anything. Just call me”.
“Okay. I’ll do it”, you assured him softly.
You took the hand that was grabbing your arm with yours and kissed his knuckles lovingly. It was hard for you as well, especially as you had not been separated for a long time, but it was for the best. You couldn’t say what would happen or when you would see each other again, so it was better to not say anything at all. With a last brief smiled, you left the car.
→ Part 2
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ficnation · 9 months
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Shadow of a Broken Heart - EZ Reyes x Reader
Summary: Losing someone you love exposes the darkest side of what your friend is capable of. A broken heart opens a path for a twisted mind.
Word count: 1,4k+
Pairing: Platonic! Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; mentioned! Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader
Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pure angst
A/n: Another angsty piece for EZ because I’m never forgiving him for what he did to Neron. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!
Main Masterlist
Mayans MC Masterlist
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A tense and heated silence fills the vehicle, your breathing deep and steady as you stare at the trailer ahead. Your knuckles are tight and white, your grip on the gun firm. With each breath, the weight of your grief and your need for vengeance grows, fueling your resolve.
You won’t let your loved one’s death go unpunished; EZ is going to pay the ultimate price for taking away his life. He’s going to die at the hands of his own friend, feeling betrayed just like Neron did. There was no way you’d let him go out easily after what he’s done.
As you let out a deep breath, your grip on the gun tightens even more. Your eyes are locked on your target’s home. Your mind is a vortex of emotions and thoughts—the sound of your heartbeat is deafening.
The tension is palpable as you wait, steeling yourself for the moment ahead. You are ready. You are prepared to carry out your vengeance, hoping for the sweet release of the overwhelming weight of your grief and anger that have been crushing you for the past few weeks.
You make sure the safety is on before you stick the gun beneath the waistband of your jeans. While it is still concealed, you can feel it pressed against your spine, the cold, metallic sensation of the firearm sending a chill down your spine.
Your heart is still pounding, your body tensing at every tiny sound, each muscle coiled and ready to strike. But your mind is calm and focused, determined to do what you came here for.
You jump out of the car, and your boots hit the dry earth below with a dull thud. The cool night air is a slight relief from your hot, boiling emotions. You straighten up as you leave the door open, afraid of making too much noise.
You reach the trailer, hesitating for a moment as your raised fist hovers over the plastic surface of the door. You stop your racing mind and bring your hand down, knocking gently.
The knock, even so quiet, reverberates throughout the night on the quiet street as you stand motionless, waiting to see if anyone will open the door—if your thirst for EZ’s blood will be satisfied.
You all but exhale when you hear the creaking of the floor inside. The steps get closer and closer then finally, Ezekiel Reyes inches the door open, peeking through the small gap.
You play the game and drop your shoulders with a defeated shrug. The bags under your eyes and the sadness of your frown are convincing enough for EZ to open the door fully. You force your eyes to tear up just like you did when you were a kid and your mom didn’t want to buy you ice cream. It looks real—believable.
The man you once considered a brother steps aside to let you in. He closes the plastic door as you look around the trailer. You knew beforehand Sofie had received an emergency call from her coworker asking for her assistance on the night shift. You were glad you bumped into Bottles, and he let the information slip.
You sit on the bed and put your head in your hands—elbows digging into the flesh of your thighs as you fake a sniffle. “I miss him so much, EZ. I don’t think I can go on much longer,” you mumble out, your voice breaking slightly.
You are amazed at just how good you’re at this because the dark-eyed man squats in front of you without a second thought. He places his large hands on your knees as he tries to look you in the eyes. You want to dig his eyes out and leave them hanging out of the sockets just by the nerves.
“I know it’s painful,” he says softly, and you let him guide your arms down. His skin touching yours makes you want to spit in his face.
“I’m like a fucking shadow without him. A shadow of a broken heart.” You clench your eyes shut as you let the tears spill down your cheeks, the black mascara leaving traces on your skin. “I’m nothing without him. I don’t know who I am or what I am supposed to do,” you sob, the words sound almost choked out. You’re telling the truth this time; you don’t even have to force it—the words spilling out of your mouth, the pain behind them, honest.
He hushes you, bringing your hands to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles in hopes of soothing you. You look into his eyes, searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of reason behind the betrayal. You’re desperate to find a tiny piece of remorse or guilt in them. But you know eyes can only say so much. His dark irises give away nothing, his gaze cold and indifferent—devoid of the warmth and patience he pretends to hold for you, lacking the Reyes’ love you had once come to know.
Your heart sinks, and you suddenly understand the truth. Your “friend” is no longer the person you once knew and trusted. He’s not the sweet prospect that always listened to your ramblings when you visited the clubhouse. He’s not the man that spent days with you just because Neron was sent on a long mission and you were drowning in worry.
You don’t know this man who kneels before you now and pretends to be your friend. He became a completely different person, someone that you can no longer trust or rely on. It is a devastating reality, and the pain of betrayal cuts even deeper into your heart—it claws at it and leaves marks that’ll never heal.
You know he doesn’t even slightly feel threatened by your presence. If he had reservations when he opened the door, they evaporated just as quick as you stepped foot into the trailer. You were just a woman, a creature smaller and weaker than a man like him. There was nothing about you that screamed danger. He allowed himself to drop his guard down—a mistake he’ll pay for.
“Don’t give up. One day you’ll wake up, and it won’t hurt anymore. You’re gonna get through it.” As your name leaves his lips after his empty promise—you almost shudder. He stands up and kisses the crown of your head—the nausea his touch draws out of you keeps growing. “Do you want to stay at the clubhouse tonight? I can keep you company. Maybe we can finish a bottle of tequila like in the good old days,” he offers.
You want to believe he’s genuine so badly. You want Neron back. You want your friend—the good version of Ezekiel Reyes—back. But deep down, you know you already made peace with the fact that it’ll never happen, that it’s time to say goodbye to both of them before they’ll drag you down with them.
You agree with a simple nod of your head and let EZ pull you to your feet and out of the trailer. He walks ahead, spinning the keys to the clubhouse in his fingers as he whistles a tune under his nose. You follow him, heart palpitating. You have to do it now, or you’ll lose your bravery.
Ezekiel looks back at you when you reach the door to the clubhouse, his eyes studying you. For a second, a fear pops into your head that maybe he’s well aware of the plan you made up in your head, and he’s just toying with you, but it disappears instantly when the man turns away and jabs the key into the keyhole.
You don’t wait. You pull the gun out of your waistband and stand behind him, raising it to his head. Your fingers pop the safety off, and you watch as EZ freezes, his shoulders tensing.
“You were like a family to me,” you mumble out, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes. You know if you give him a few more minutes, the shock will wear off, and he’ll overpower you in an instant, slapping the gun straight out of your hands. “I hope Neron doesn’t give you a second of peace down there, you lying piece of rat shit.”
Your fingers are steady as you pull the trigger. The shot reverberates through the night as the blood and brain tissue splatter on your face. The man in front of you takes his last breath as he falls face-first onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. You kick him in the ass for good measure before you turn away and jump down the steps, leaving him on the doorstep of his beloved club. When his brothers find his body the next morning, you’ll be long gone, somewhere far away from Santo Padre.
You don’t feel the sweet relief you hoped for.
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cloveroctobers · 5 months
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DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 4. NERON “CREEPER” VARGAS
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A/N: idea inspired by a required outing for me and encouraged by @darqchilddaydreamz 🤭 this is so unserious but not at the same time? I also don’t like how I learned to appreciate creeper after the fact? This is my first time ever writing for the man with a heart of gold. Smh. Him and Coco deserved better and in AU…Creeper & Coco would be the true besties. This is also somewhat that. Enjoy!
Synopsis: As a pizza chef you’re bound to keep your house just as stocked as your restaurant. However with a ice storm heading your way in two days…you persuade your husband, Neron to take you to the store to grab just a few extra things but soon find yourself in a battle with another shopper, who doesn’t know the first thing about personal space.
ADDED PROMPTS FROM HERE + I’m using: 3.) Shopping + 6.) “You’re really making me wear matching pajamas with you?”
WARNINGS: language + “reader” is given a name but not physically described yet I always have a black or woc in mind. + a sexual/steamy moment towards the end ;)
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙
What was supposed to be more of a in and out kind of thing, turned into at least a thirty minute adventure. Sure Mariatu could blame it on the tasteful playlist the grocery store was playing—currently, “let it snow,” by Boyz II Men & Brian McPetty but she’d take the blame when she got back outside to her husband.
The original plan was to run in and get five items: a pack of mineral water full of electrolytes for Neron, a pack of cocoa powder, eggs, toilet paper rolls, and disinfectant wipes.
With the way prices are in this economy?
Mariatu knew it was probably best for Neron to run in grab everything but he suddenly got a call from Coco that had to do with business—which the founded brothers always stood on—so she did the honors of slipping out. She honestly didn’t mind, shopping was always thrilling to her because she knows regardless of what she picked up—whether she needed it or not—the items would always be put to good use. Mariatu was never one to let anything go to waste, it was something her parents always instilled.
Perhaps that’s why the carriage was getting heavier as she explored every other aisle, ending up in the international section, just for some lady to eye the contents of her carriage before settling her judgmental eyes on Mariatu. Their eyes connected but one was less friendly than the other, which was enough for Mariatu to pick up the speed. The previous aisle was more of a game of “chicken,” since one boulder of a man thought the aisle was a one way, the frozen section had one of its fridges leaking onto the floor and the constant call to, “clean up aisle 21,” seemed to go unheard, and just from entering the store a mother had to excuse herself and her screaming child who thought it would be best to start knocking over one of the displays.
Those should have been enough signs for Mariatu to do what she was supposed to do. Although the upbeat Christmas music was enough motivation to just make this a speed round, Mariatu couldn’t help that she spent longer than expected; even if she had a mental list of what they needed. Soon she found herself making a circle in the store towards the organic and produce section.
Eyeing the pomegranate seeds, Mariatu makes a bee-line for the fruit. Parking her carriage upwards from herself, she picks up the container eyeing the expiration date and then the quality of the red toned fruit. From her peripheral she sees someone leaning by the front of her carriage. She thinks not much of it figuring that they’re simply looking at a item that aligns with the end of her carriage. Silently debating over the snack for a moment longer, she opts for the larger pack instead before adding it to the carriage.
Seconds after, the handle of her carriage digs harshly into her stomach as the customer pushes their hip into the end of the carriage to reach for a bag of jumbo grapes. Mariatu blinks to herself in astonishment as the man holds the bag up to the light and moves his hips to do the same movement again!
This time Mariatu yanks on the carriage and goes around the man but not without muttering, “this is how you say excuse me,” on her way as she continues on up ahead. Eyeing the bag of baby spinach, she decides against it after grabbing a few green juices not long ago and just as she goes to push away from the section, she can hear the irritating sound of a broken carriage wheel pushing behind her.
Ever since Mariatu was a little girl she had great senses. Some may call it a gift while others maybe oblivious but she’s almost always right in judging distances and sensing presences that may or may not physically be there. In this present time as Mariatu is briefly glancing from the cart to make sure she’s not forgetting something and watching where she’s going, she can feel and hear the carriage behind her getting too close for her liking. Just as she’s reaching the corner, she peers over her shoulder to the pale as ice skinned man with a beanie that barely covers his thin salt colored hair and in that moment they come to some sort of understanding.
His shoulders relax, his lips pursed, grip still strong on the handle, he seems to slow down as his eyes connect with Mariatu’s. The side-eye game was always strong and she whips her head back, ringlets of curls bouncing with her underneath her beret as she does, a satisfying smile begins to grace her lipstick painted lips while she gets ready to turn the corner.
That’s short lived as a bump of the carriage from behind pressed into her backside first, thrashing her forward, followed by the knocking wheel which clips her ankle. A yelp escapes her lips, gaining the attention of a cashier who’s handling the handicap section and Mariatu has to exhale the steam that’s probably seeping from her eardrums.
Rubbing at the stinging skin above her ankle socks in her trainers, she glares at the older man who looks sheepish at the fact that his carriage actually interacted with his target.
“What’s your problem? You bump my carriage out of the way instead of using your manners, which you clearly lack and now you wanna play bumper cars with my ankle?” Mariatu questions the man who lifts his shoulders nonchalantly.
“I needed grapes,” the man started, “you could have done what I did and placed your carriage to the right so that way you’re not blocking other items that fellow customers need.”
Mariatu scoffs in disbelief, “well I’m not you and the proper thing to do if you need to get something is say excuse me or patiently wait until I’m done.”
“Sorry…but no?”
“No?” Mariatu felt her eye twitch and just to think, she was having a pretty solid day off, considering it was only twelve in the afternoon but still!
“Yeah,” the man continued, “you’re in my way and I have places to be too. Don’t know if you know this but a ice storm is coming and I need—
“Excuse me, I don’t give two shits what you need. Everybody that’s in here needs something, so honestly you can take that entitlement and shove it up right your ass, Mr.” Mariatu stated to the man without raising her voice but her brows definitely did, which means she meant that shit, “and happy holidays.”
With that she sorta limps from the man, enjoying that she had the last say and that his presence was no longer felt as he scrambles to go to one of the other aisles instead of to the self-check out area, which Mariatu was headed to.
Mariatu braced herself heading back into the breezy sixty degree weather, slowly letting out a sigh to herself as she crossed through the parking lot. She spots Neron waiting outside of her bronco and jumps into action as he looks up in time. “Ten minutes huh?” He teases with a shake of his head as he unlocks the trunk.
She scrunches her nose at him as they maneuver around the cart, taking turns adding the bags into the back. It doesn’t take Neron long to pick up on the way Mariatu is walking different once they get down to the the last few bags. “What’s up?” He asks.
Mariatu shakes her head as Neron points at her leg, “I’ll tell you in the car.”
The hoodie wearing man dips his head and takes the task of bringing the carriage back to its spot after opening the door for Mariatu. Neron doesn’t miss a certain man looking over in his wife’s direction as Neron crosses the parking lot one more. Once he gets into the driver’s seat, it’s Neron’s turn to have his eyes in slits as the strange man starts tossing his bags into his station wagon.
“That man with the pedophile car…you know ‘em?”
Mariatu hums, looking up from her phone to follow Neron’s trail and immediately scoffs, “oh yeah, we got friendly not too long ago. That’s the man who tried to run me over after I told him he basically needs to learn some manners.”
Neron flicks his eyes to his right, “what happened?” He pressed and Mariatu has no issue giving her husband the quick rundown of what just occurred.
He’s rubbing at his lengthy beard in slight irritation but also pride. “Put your seatbelt on,” he commands and Mariatu tilts her head to the side at this.
However the hardened stare Neron shoots her way and then back out the window shield was enough for her to listen this time. The tatted man places one hand on the steering wheel, tightening his grip and sitting up straight—which was always enough indication that someone was about to float their ride…so Mariatu braced herself.
Rightfully so.
As soon as she blinked, they were across the parking lot blocking the man’s path from completely backing out from the parking space.
“Neron,” Mariatu hissed as he pressed his brimmed hat further down on his head then flung the door open, leaving it wide open as he walked in between the cars to get to the man’s driver’s side, knocking on his window.
Mariatu couldn’t exactly hear what Neron was saying to the strange man as he was crouched over, talking to him in a manner that would send a chill down anyone’s spine. Her heart rate picked up as she saw Neron reach into the rolled down window, possibly snatching the man up by the throat and then shoving him forward that his horn announced his face made contact with it.
With that Neron sniffs as he turns back to the bronco, holding a bag now as he climbs back into the driver’s seat. He plops the bag of grapes into Mariatu’s lap and says, “Poe Cramer sends his apologizes. Eat up.”
“Neron, what did you do that for? I thought I told you that I handled it.” Mariatu brings her eyes up from the fruit in her lap to the profile of her husband’s face who begins driving through the parking lot.
Neron dips his head, “and I’m proud of you, Cariño. But he assaulted you so I returned the favor. Roughed him up a bit, he’s lucky that’s all he got and that’s out of respect for my lady being somewhat a witness…that I didn’t take it further. got his name from his license—just in case you run into him again and he decides to start some more shit but I doubt it. I clocked his ass—that’s all. No harm, no foul.”
“I can’t,” Mariatu snorts resting a hand against her edges, “I love you and I don’t need you locked up before Christmas.”
“I’m just contributing to society so I know Santa would forgive me,” Neron shrugs with a slow smirk appearing on his lips.
Mariatu laughs, “Oh that’s what you want to call it?” Before kicking her ankle up and over her opposite knee to examine, “don’t know why some people get so shitty during the holiday season, especially if you didn’t do anything wrong to them! They just feel like it’s okay to take it out on strangers. Like? What you say fuck me for?”
“You don’t even gotta worry about him no more, trust me,” Neron laughs at the joke, “you good though?”
Mariatu nods reaching over to feed Neron a grape before pecking his cheek, “always with you by my side, baby.”
“Likewise,” Neron winks over at the woman he was ecstatic to call his wife, resting the palm of his hand on her thigh.
Back in the gated, yes gated! suburbs of their coastal mobile home after unloading and packing the groceries, the married couple made it their mission that today would be a easy day. They rarely had days off at the same time so Neron and Mariatu wanted to take advantage of this with Mariatu persuading Neron to go shopping today rather than putting it off for the busiest day—Saturday. Now they had the rest of the day just to be up in each others faces, spending quality time together.
She’s in the bathroom, tending to her night time skin routine, already solidifying they were in for the rest of the day, while Neron’s perched on the edge of the bed tuned into the weather channel. The bathroom door’s wide open as Neron says, “you know your pa is trying to get coco and I to come out to Wyoming, huh?”
Mariatu frowns, “that’s where he snuck off to? The hell is he doing out there?”
The woman knew exactly what her father was doing out there. He made it a mission to travel more after the lost of his wife three years ago but…Wyoming? Really? Very Kanye coded but a lot less unhinged.
“Starting a new business adventure. Plans to do something either with construction or a food truck for a rest stop…he’s weighing his options based on how those meetings go.” Neron informed, “he sounds real determined and said he’ll keep me posted while also sending his love to you.”
Neron and Johnny had their own business together that consisted of mechanics and all things restoration, computers and guns, you name it! After things went terribly south (she often found it hard at times that they both made it out alive) with the club, they figured this would be their best option and Mariatu couldn’t be more supportive of the two. In whatever way she was often confused on her father bringing up his multiple business ideas to her husband and good friend. Neron and Coco seemed quite comfortable making their roots here and not all over the place like her father commonly did.
Yet of course she understood networking being a business owner herself…she just couldn’t picture Neron or Johnny elsewhere now that they were secure here and out of the tainted Santo Padre.
Mariatu rolls her eyes at this, loving how Neron threw that in there but she knew this was true with the way her father’s brain was constantly running with ideas. He’s always been a hardworking, successful man but he also didn’t know when to slow down. He was getting older and it’s like Mariatu was always fighting to have time with him, she valued that considering the lost of her mother but perhaps this was all his way of grieving?
You tend to do that sometimes at the end of the year they say.
“Will he back for Christmas? Kwanzaa, maybe?”
Neron wouldn’t lie and he knew how important Mariatu’s relationship was with her parents, which he did not receive personally but he always had his sisters so he understood to some degree, “he didn’t say honey but I’m sure he’ll try.”
“Right,” Mariatu is quiet for some time before starting up her spin brush again for a few minutes before rinsing her face and continuing the rest of her work.
The room is thicker now with Mariatu’s inner feelings about it all but Neron knows not to push it. They were similar in that way, holding everything in but Mariatu was better in letting it out when she was ready while Neron struggled with his own issues of people not hearing him when he did speak. However he knew not to feel that way with his wife, they confided in each other countless of times and felt seen being vulnerable with each other. It’s what drove them forward through the hardships.
Neron’s not sure how long he’s dazed off but a pair of pants smack across his face, followed by a snort of laughter that belonged to no other than his wife. He blinks, gripping onto the printed pants and scowls as he eyes the same print that Mariatu is sporting. Except her’s are shorts and he gets to eye her smooth legs in them.
Licking his lips Neron rubs at his beard, fighting to keep his thoughts clean as she slips a printed long sleeve set over her camisole, “You’re really making me wear matching pajamas with you?”
“Uh huh,” Mariatu nods her head with a smile, “we’ll be cozy and cute.”
Neron mumbles, “And lookin’ like the elves on the fucken shelf.”
Mariatu cackles as Neron shakes his head in disagreement. She stands before him, resting her hands across his shoulders, massaging them while staring down into his tense but loving brown eyes. Neron doesn’t hesitate to wrap his solid tatted arms around her waist, while she gets comfortable locking her legs right around his hips so they’re face to face now.
“I think you need a little more persuading and a thank you.”
“A thank you?” Neron ponders as Mariatu nuzzles her nose against the man’s, who breathes her in.
Mariatu pecks his lips, then trails those kisses along his jaw and up to his large ear, whispering, “for always looking out for me and especially for today. Will you let me take care of you?”
She can feel Neron shudder against her and she knew that Neron just wanted to be loved in return for the love that he gave out. Mariatu had no problem providing that and the confirmation of his fingertips digging into her waist was all she needed to make their lips collide. The scratch of his beard against her chin, the weight of her clung to his body, the force of shoving him back against the sheets, scrape of her stiletto nails that greeted his skin briefly as she helped him out of his tops, kissing of his wounds that were buried beneath his tats, the trick of her tongue against the round of his raised flesh which contained a hooped piercing that always evoked a breathy moan from his lips, the teasing and pleasing to his lower region with only her mouth was enough to bring joy right out of Neron’s heart.
Mariatu took the reigns but Neron couldn’t let that slide without getting his hands on her in the way he wanted and the way they both needed as well. A shower and clean up routine later, both now sporting red festive wear, they’re lounging against the headboard together, container of pomegranate seeds placed in between them while the skies in San Didacus continue filling in with a gray haze.
Neron and Mariatu both meet each other’s eyes after the dark haired man settled on, one of his favorites, “Krampus,” (2015) after finding one of the cheesy romantic Christmas movies to be too corny for their tastes.
“Ready to keep the festive spirit going?” Neron asks, wrist draped over Mariatu’s shoulder while she curls into him, leg tossed over his torso.
Mariatu covers her yawn, “yeah I am, I don’t know about you but I don’t want any demons hunting this house, especially once some kids come along.”
“Nah, krampus don’t got nothin’ on me.” Neron tells with a grin, “he better ask Poe and check my resume.”
“I haven’t even seen that resume.”
“I’m keepin’ it that way. Like I said when we took those vows, you don’t got to worry about nothing on that end. Just the restaurant and the good parts of life that we’re building together only.” Neron reassured in which Mariatu nodded with a smile.
Neron leans forward capturing Mariatu’s lips in a brief kiss before brushing his lips against her forehead then tunes back into the movie.
One thing is true, this holiday, equally the pair hopes this season brings further blessings to their table after growing what they both went through. The little moments mean just as much as the big ones and when they frequently stare into each other’s eyes…maybe in the end they can always say that’s the best gift the universe could have ever gave them.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙
Continue the rest of my~5 days of Xmas~December anthology prompts here.
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mysoulisasunflower · 5 months
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Michael 'Riz' Ariza & Neron 'Creeper' Vargas
Mayans MC | 1.5 "Uch/Opossum"
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broiderie · 3 months
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Curiosity...
Alright Mayans M.C. fans. Here's my question. Who do you think is the worst villain in the show? Which person just... pisses you off by coming on screen. I know mine. Just wondering how close I am with everyone else's ideas.
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ravennaortiz · 3 months
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Okay let's do 24, 25, and 27 with Creeper. Although there are a few of them that would all fit those prompts.
OHHH! We are going to act up on this snowy Friday! I love that you chose Creeper he gives me those in public polite gentlemen vibes and then in private he is a feral beast!
Prompts 24: No Panties? 25: Don't act shy now. and 27: What if someone sees? As always 18+ Smut below the cut
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Tease
"I need to be inside you now" purred Creeper into your ear as he pushed you down onto the hood of a random car. The icy metal against your hot skin made you shiver and giggle nervously. "What if someone see?" you replied as you pushed back on Creepers chest as he mauled your neck like a feral dog and ground into you.
Creeper chuckled as he pulled back to look into your eyes his pupils blown from lust. "Guess you should have thought about that before tempting me in this dress" he replied as he ran his hands up your thighs pushing the offense material away from what he desired. Glancing down when his fingers slid along your unprotected core he smirked before looking back into your eyes.
"No panties?" he questioned rhetorically as he slid one of his fingers into you making you arch your back. "You really were fiending for me weren't you kitten" stated Creeper as he slid another digit into you making you clamp around him. The feel of his cool rings on his fingers only made you come more undone as he pumped them in and out of you lazily. "I'm close" you muttered quietly.
"No mami. We aint gonna be doing that shit" muttered Creeper as he slid his fingers out of you making you protest. "You don't get to be a tease and then get off easily" chuckled Creeper as he undid his pants and slid his erect cock out as he pulled you down the hood of the car some. "You cum around my cock now or not at all tonight" stated Creeper as he slammed into you in one swift motion of his hips. You clamped your hand around your mouth to quiet the moan as he filled you but he yanked your hand away.
"Don't be acting shy now. You were showing off for all them earlier. I wanna hear my name fall from that pretty little mouth until I tell you to stop? You got me?" stated Creeper as he gripped your jaw tightly giving slow deep strokes as he spoke. "Yea...ahh...Creeper" you moaned as he hit that sweet spot. "Louder princesa" demanded Creeper as he picked up his pace. Nothing made him hotter than your moans and cries of pleasure as you came undone.
Several minutes and orgasms later Creeper let out a beastly groan and slammed once more into you as your body milked his release from him. After he had caught his breath he looked at your blissed out face and disheveled appearance and grinned. Pulling out of you he stepped back from the car as you started to sit up and straighten your dress.
"No. Stay like that." ordered Creeper as the faint sound of the clubhouse door opening caught your attention making you turn your head. "Don't worry about it. Get on your knees and clean me up so we can get back to my welcome home party" stated Creeper his voice dark with desire still. "Good girl" murmured Creeper as he closed his eyes and patted your head as you did what was requested.
Want more Creeper? Click here
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A Gentle Kind Of Love Masterlist
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Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a gentle kind of love.
Mayans MC Masterlist
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Contains: Fluff, angst, longing, pining and yearning, Angel being a shit-stirrer, Manny being dumb, cats, violence, mentions of drugs and drug addiction, shooting and death, Canche, smut. There will be more, and I'll do my best to tag chapter by chapter, please don't hesitate to tell me if I've missed something.
Any mature chapters will be marked per Tumblr's community labels, you will need them turned to show to see them. 
More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is. Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical/forensic💉 Triggering material🚩
You and Coco meet overseas when you are doing aid work. When you move to Santo Padre to settle down, your life changes forever when you and Manny strike up a friendship.
Part One - Oh Hello❤❤😨
Part Two - There's Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere.😨❤❤
Part Three - Been Known in is Aching😨❤😨❤
Part Four - On Yearning❤😨😨
Part Five - Like Real People Do😨❤😨❤
Part Six - I Adore You😨❤💦
Epilogue - Fell in Love with the Fire Long Ago❤💦❤💦
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burningtacozombie · 10 months
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for episode 5x08 Emilio Rivera threw a watch party for the cast and friends because not only was his wife in it, it was also her birthday. X - X - X - X
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bullet-prooflove · 3 months
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Valentine's Day Bingo: Blind Date - Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader (Coffeeshop AU)
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @redpoodlern @lexondeck @librarian1002 @thanossexual @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @adaydreamaway08 @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @fleureeee
Hitting the Blind Date Square on the Bingo Card
Companion piece to Barista
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Neron hasn’t been on a date for a long time, not since before he got sober. The things he did with women before that…
He wouldn’t call it dating.
His sobriety has changed him, it’s made him shyer, more reserved. What he craved back then was physical connection, what he wants now goes much deeper. It’s harder to meet people than he remembers, he used to go to parties, bars, clubs, now he has his crew and the coffeehouse.
The truth is he’s lonely, he likes his own company, but he wants more than that. He wants to make someone laugh, to hold them in the night, to be held in return.
It’s Hank that sets him up on the date.
“You’ll like her.” He promises. “The two of you have a lot in common.”
He’s nervous when he sits down at a table in the coffeeshop. It’s quiet today, the lunch rush has just finished up and Coco’s on the register, restocking the coffee bags. His knee starts jangling because that anxiety is chasing through his nerve endings. He knows this girl is going to take one look at him and walk out, he can feel it in his bones. He’s starting to spiral, his head getting a little messy, so he does the one thing that distracts him when he feels overwhelmed. He gets out his black A5 sketchpad and his fineliner and he begins to draw.
It starts as nonsense, a few straight lines before the image begins to take shape in his mind. His loses himself in the task for a few minutes, shading in the parts he need to, adding shadow here and there. He chases the ebbs and flows of his creativity, blocking out his surroundings. It isn’t until you tap his hand lightly with your fingertip that he even realises that there’s another person in his proximity.
His heart skips a beat when he sees that it’s you. The girl with the tattoos up her arms and the smile that makes him feel like he’s seeing the sunrise for the first time. He’s watched you from afar, you come in during the evenings with your tablet, sketching out your client drawings on the sofa in the corner.
Vanilla latte, he remembers, made with almond milk.
“Hi.” You say as you take the seat across from him. “I’m Hank’s friend, Nina.”
Love Creeper? 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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shyanddreamy · 7 months
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You can't save everyone
Happy Lowman x Reader | Part 4
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Author's note: When I first wrote this story, I planned to write only three parts, but given the main characters and what happened in Mayans M.C., I needed to give them an ending. A better ending. So, there're slight references to Mayans' season finale. I really hope u like it. Love u all <3
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
Every MC had their business and their secrets. In the case of SOA, only their members could know with all its details what was really happening. That was something you hated, but over time you had learnt to accept. The little you knew was that you were living through dark times again and that the Mayans had broken Jax Teller’s last will. In essence, war was here once more.
“We are not going anywhere!”, you told him for the third time. “Are you out of your fucking mind or what?!"
“Fine. Stay”, Happy answered. “I’ll go alone.”
“Fuck no! You are not leaving Charming. Chibs says that desert is Mayans’ territory. And you are in the middle of a fucking war, shithead!”, you explained to him once more. “Do you want to die for nothing? That’s your fucking problem?”
“I’m gonna die of boredom anyway if you keep bitching around me all the fucking day!”
You pursed your lips, and Happy took it as an opportunity to go to your bedroom and slam the door.
“Fucking asshole”, you muttered. However, you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself before following his steps.
Despite the wonderful months you had spent since he officially made you his Old Lady, you had had some problems with Happy recently. You managed to convince him to stay last time he suggested leaving Charming to be the temporary president for SAMDINO, but this time his mood was even worst. However, you wouldn’t get anything by arguing. That’s why you went to the dorm and opened the door softly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you”, you told him. Happy was sitting on the bed, his face hidden behind the palms of his hands. “I’m just worried.”
“I’m sorry too”, you heard him mumble. “I’m going fucking crazy. There’re so many bodies. So many dead brothers. That's not what Jax died for.”
You walked towards him and sat next to him, caressing his back tenderly in an attempt to bring him some kind of comfort.
“Everything's hard and complicate, but you can’t lose your mind now, babe”, you remembered him. “It’s not safe for you to leave and be out there by your own. When problems knock on the door, you have to stay near your family. Do you remind it? You taught me that.”
“I know. I fucking know”.
Suddenly, Happy rested his head on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your body as if he wanted even more caresses for all the time that was possible. Unfortunately, your mobile phone ringing cut that sweet moment.
“Who is it?”, he asked at your frown.
“I don’t know. I should take it.”
You didn’t recognise the number. It could simply be someone mistaken, but you had a bad feeling about it. So, when Happy released you from the needy hug, you got back on your feet and answered the call.
“This is a private call from…”, the first you heard was a robotic feminine voice. And suddenly, you heard his voice for just a second before the previous voice kept talking. “To accept the call, press five.”
While doing as she said, you walked out of the dorm leaving the door half open. It only took a few seconds before you listened to his voice again.
“I need your help.”
The conversation was short. And once you were back into the room, Happy looked at you warily. He might have read in your face that things weren’t quite right.
“What happens?”, he asked.
“Something you are not gonna like.”
*
As you had said to Happy, it was too dangerous to be on Mayans territory during the war. You travelled alone for that reason. If you didn’t stand out, no one had to realise who you were and why you were there. Now you were glad Happy had tattooed his crow on your ribs and not in a more visible place, otherwise they could easily spot you were one of SOA Old Ladies.
Once inside the prison, you waited patiently among the rest of the visitors until guards finally let you in. You chose to sit at one of the furthest tables and kept waiting until you saw him.
“I did not expect us to meet again in this situation”, you told him after he took a sit in front of you.
“Me neither”, Creeper nodded. “Thanks for coming.”
News travels fast, so a few months ago you found out Creeper was in prison. You were very sorry to hear that, but there’s nothing more you could do. At least, that’s what you thought. 
“You don’t have to. I told you, I’ll always be there for you”, you reminded him. “So, what do you need?”
“Protection.”
“What?”
“Protection. Inside”, he repeated firmly.
“And why did you call me? Sons are in war with Mayans, Neron. You should talk to your charter.”
“I’m here by my own. They can’t do anything, Y/N. And the thing is there’s a fucking rat among my brothers. I’m about to find out who it is, but with the green light on me, they can kill me at any time”, he briefly explained to you. “I cannot die without finding first who the fuck the rat is.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“Talk to SAMCRO. There’s a bunch of Sons in here. If they're with me, it may buy me some time.”
“I don’t know if they’ll listen to me.”
“I know. I know what I’m asking you is a fucked up, but I wouldn’t have called you if I had any other option.”
“What if I go to your clubhouse and tell Bishop?”
“Things have changed since you were here. And with the war and without any evidence, it can turn against you.”, he said. “Just think about it, ok? Tell them it’s me who's asking this favour. I know they hate rats as much as I do.”
“I’ll try. I promise.”
“Fine. Good.”
“How much time do you have?”
“Don’t know. Maybe hours. Luckily a few days.”
“So, I should get going. Is better to talk something like that in person, and the ride back to Charming is long. I’ll try to be quick, but call me if anything new happens, okay?” 
Creeper just nodded in response. Nevertheless, when you made a move to get up, he stopped you.
“Wait, Y/N”, he called you. You could read sadness and desperation in his eyes and his voice. “I just want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t convince them. I know you’re gonna try and that’s even more than what I deserve, but it won’t be your fault if I die.”
“Shut up. You’re not going to die”, you assured him while placing your hands on his. “I’ve got your back. You’re gonna be fine and that fucking rat is gonna meet the Reaper.”
Creeper pursed his lips and nodded again. As you saw his eyes watery, you took one of your hands to his face, caressing his cheek tenderly. You knew how much he cared about his club and how much he tried to take care of everyone, but this time, he needed someone to back him up.
“Just be careful and let me take care of you for once. I won’t fail you.”
After leaving the prison and getting into your car, you set off without delay. There was no time to lose. However, barely ten minutes after, you hit the steering wheel in frustration.
“Fuck!”, you shouted. “Fucking war, fucking Mayans and fucking Sons!”
The truth was that you had no idea of how to convince the charter, so you had actually made a promise you weren’t sure if you could keep.
*
“Who the fuck you think we are? Fucking Virgin Mary?”, Chibs said. “Mayans are the enemy now. They are murdering our brothers! And you want us to protect a fucking inmate?”
You’ve been talking about the same thing all night and they haven’t understood a word you’ve said yet. It was exasperating.
“I’m just saying that maybe you could do an exception with him. He’s just asking for more time to expose the rat in his charter. I thought all the MC hated rats”, you insisted. “And he helped me when I was in Santo Padre. I owe him.”
“What I don’t understand is why we have let her talk in the first time”, Tig commented, looking mostly at Chibs. “There’s a reason why we don’t let cunts take decisions.”
Before you could do anything about it or even get mad at him, Happy grabbed him by the collar of his shirt threateningly.
“Don’t talk to her like that”, he ordered to Tig.
“Or what?”, Tig provoked him. “Have you become a fucking pussy too, brother?”
“Enough!”, Chibs raised his voice. Though they held each other’s gaze for long seconds, as if ready to start a fight at any moment, Happy finally let go of Tig and took a few steps back. “The decision is taken, Y/N. You don’t know how things work, so I recommend that you step aside.”
“You know what? Fuck you, Chibs. Fuck you all”, you responded. “You killed Juice for less. And when I went mad and cried for days, you all told me that no rat could be forgiven. That it was a kind of law that every MC followed. Even Mayans respected it, that’s why they give Juice over to SAMCRO. But now you’ve forgotten because you’re just a bunch of hypocrites. You’re not going to do anything even if it’s a personal favour I ask of you for once. So, as I said, fuck you.”
“Y/N”, you heard Happy’s voice calling out to you, so you turned around with one finger raised in a threatening manner.
“I fucking love you, Happy, but if you say another word right now, I’ll punch you in the face”, you warned him. However, before leaving the clubhouse, you remembered one more thing. “Just for the record, if the rat is working with the FBI and you’ve been doing business with the Mayans, he could take you down too. So, if you don’t give a shit about anyone else, at least do something to save your own asses.”
You walked home that night. By the time Happy arrived, you were already in bed, so he lay down next to you without saying a word. That night you slept with your backs to each other. And the next morning, he left to the workshop without speaking yet. You had to wait more than twenty-four hours to hear the verdict from Happy’s mouth. 
“Creeper had the Sons on his side”.
Despite the enthusiasm this phrase aroused, you tried to remain calm and serious.
“Why this change?”
“Why do you care?”, he asked you back. “What matters is that Creeper has the protection he was after.”
“Yeah. I suppose”, you muttered.
As you were making dinner, you wasn’t looking directly at Happy. However, he walked towards you and embraced you from behind.
“You have no right to talk to my brothers like you did”, he murmured above your ear, giving you goosebumps. “But it still gave me such a hard-on.”
You struggled to hold back a smile as you concentrated on the salad you were chopping.
“Of course it did”, you added. You weren’t expecting Happy to turn you around to face you.
“You can’t save everybody, Y/N. You have to accept it”.
“I’m not trying to save everybody, just the few people I care about”, you responded. “Even if I can’t, at least I have to try.”
Happy simply nodded and kissed your forehead for long seconds.
“Why don’t you go take a shower while I finish making dinner?”, you suggested him with your hands on his chest. “And then, we could take care of your yesterday’s hard-on.”
*
This war didn’t affect Charming as much as the others in the past thanks to their decision not to intervene. It was harsher for their brothers from other charters. But as Happy had told you, you couldn’t save everyone, especially when it was a war they had started despite Charming’s advice to preserve the peace.
When you received a call from an unknown number, you thought it would be from the prison again, but the feminine voice you heard was from a real woman.
“Bathroom chick?”
“Who the fuck is talking?”, you answered aggressively, but you also remembered who had put you that nickname. Only one person could know it.
“I have a message from Creeper. He told me you'd know it was him if I called you that”, he briefly explained to you. And you were more interested in whatever she had to say than anything else. “Some inmates stabbed him a few days ago, but he survived. After he was released from the infirmary, Sons have always been around him for some reason, so he has done well. Now he’s in isolation for a fight, but before he went in, he asked me to tell you he had the name he was looking for.”
“I’m glad to hear that”, you said. The truth was that you didn’t like at all the part about him being stabbed, but it was a relief to know that Sons had kept his promise to protect Creeper.
“I guess you’re the one who got him the Sons’ favour.”
“The fuck do you care?”
“I don’t. I just appreciate that someone is taking care of him.”
Your intuition told you that she genuinely appreciated Neron as well, but you hadn’t heard a thing from her, so you remained suspicious. It always could be someone trying to discover with who had Creeper an alliance to destroy it, or maybe the war had you a bit paranoid.
“Call me if you have new information from him”, you asked her anyway.
“I’ll do”, she assured you.
“Can I have a name? To know it’s you in case we talk again.”
“I shouldn’t”, he answered. “But if Creeper trusts you that much, I should do it too. You can call me Kody.”
“Good.”
A few days after that call, you received another one from her telling you that Santo Padre already knew who his rat was. In addition, she let it slip that something big was going on in Santo Padre, so it was better to stay away from them. Less than thirty-six hours later, the war between Mayans and Sons of Anarchy came to an end and Santo Padre’s charter was erased in an FBI operation.
The mood in the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse was low. You were sitting next to Happy with your head resting on his shoulder, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. There was a bitter taste in your mouths from all the brothers’ deaths and the fact that the FBI had managed to destroy an entire charter so easily. When Chibs came out of the Chapel, he went straight to the counter bar to have two shots. He had been making and receiving calls all day.
“So? Any news?”, Tig asked him.
“Everything’s quiet. Our charters and Mayans too”, he answered. “It seems to be a one-off operation. Otherwise, FBI would have already entered into other charters.”
“Newspapers blame Santo Padre for all the dead bodies in the streets”, Happy added.
“People was scared of so much blood. And FBI knew they couldn’t wipe us all out”, Chibs commented. “They've decided to focus on one charter and reduce it to ashes. It’s a victory for them and a warning to us all.”
Even though you didn’t know exactly what had happened, Chibs’ words made the most sense.
“I may owe you an apology, Y/N”, Tig said. “If their rat planned all this, it was better for us to make sure he ended up six feet under.”
“No problem, Tiggy. Everything’s good”, you assured him with a soft smile.
“We have to discuss what are we gonna do from now on”, continued Chibs, but as soon as you made a move to get up and let them the privacy they needed, he stopped you. “Y/N, stay. You have to hear this.”
You looked at him frowned, but he simply nodded. You looked at Happy next, but he shrugged his shoulders. You didn’t get why they wanted you to be there during that conversation, but you sat down again.
“I doubt that any charter wants to continue the war. We both have lost too many brothers. We've lost entire charters. In any case, the pipeline is done. It’s going to take months, even years, to build everything back up again. So, we have to choose whether to focus our work on that or on the transition to legality, as Jax wanted”, he said. “If we choose legality, it’s going to be tough months for us. Probably no profits until everything’s up and running. Even then, our earnings could be lower than guns’ business.”
“We have not been able to keep the peace that Jax brought us”, Happy commented. “I say we have to get at least one of the things he wanted for us.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”, Tig asked him. “Outlaw is our world. It’s what we do. And the risks are what we signed up for.”
“We’ll have time to think before the vote”, Chibs assured them. “Anyway, we have to talk with the Mayans. Rebuild our alliance and make sure there’s no more murders or revenges. You could talk to Creeper about that, Y/N. If he tells his brothers what we did for him in the middle of the war, what we did to help him with the rat, it'll help us pave the way and make new bonds.”
“Yeah. Of course. I can do it”, you responded quickly, still surprised that you were being tasked to do something for them. It certainly didn’t happen every day. “I’ll talk to him. I’m sure he will back us up.”
That day, which was the end of another bloody war, was also the beginning of a new era. Many changes had been made and even more would be made, but you were survivors. You were used to rising from the ashes. 
←Part 3 // Part 5→
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redpoodlern · 10 months
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Hey…………..
Just wanted to come see how you are doing?
I’m in mourning. Absolutely devastated. 💔 Completely saw it coming but it still hurt. And my loathing for a certain Reyes brother has reached new heights. 🤬
RIP my gorgeous tattooed baldie ♥️🖤
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michaelirby · 2 years
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Neron 'Creeper' Vargas getting the love and attention he deserves
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mysoulisasunflower · 1 year
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First Appearance of The Boys !
Mayans MC | 1.1 Perro/Oc
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