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#nestor oceteva imagine
obsessedasusual · 6 months
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Specific Skill Set - Nestor Oceteva
Pairing: Nestor Oceteva x Reader
Summary: Nestor tells you about his new employment opportunity.
Warnings: swearing
Note: Hehe… hi👀 Just popping in for my usual ‘dump and disappear again’ trick. Rewatched SOA recently and it… rehashed a lot of feelings😅 So enjoy some Nestor🥰
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“You think it’s a bad idea.” Nestor stated from his spot at the dining table.
You braced yourself against the kitchen bench, taking a break from stacking the dirty dishes to gather your thoughts.
Yes. You did think it was a bad idea. You truthfully thought it was downright stupid.
Nestor sat staring at you, waiting for you to react. Reacting was your strong point. Your face unfortunately lacked the ability to mask your emotions. Sad? People knew. Surprised? People knew. In disbelief over someone’s stupidity? People knew.
So now, as you took in and processed what your partner had just brought up with you, he sat with his eyes locked on your face. Waiting for the tell-tale flick of emotion.
“Nestor,” you turned to face him, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
He had already showered, eager to get out of his uniform and into ‘normal clothes’ as he put it.
When he’d got home that night you could tell straight away something was plaguing him. You’d finally got him to divulge all over dinner.
You crossed your arms over your chest before continuing, “You didn’t even like Marcus most of the time, remember?”
His eyes flicked to the ground before lifting back to you, “That’s history, we’re good now.”
When Nestor had told you he’d had a visit from Marcus Alvarez while at work today, you didn’t really know what to think. Then he continued and said Marcus had offered to bring him over to the Mayans, you’d abruptly stood and started clearing dinner.
“Nes, you were good with Miguel too… that - that hasn’t worked out so good.”
“That’s completely different.” He sighed.
“How?! You and Miguel were family, Nestor. And it all went to shit. You and Marcus hardly know each other-“
“This would be a better fit for me.” Nestor interrupted you, desperate for you to see his logic, “This is more my skill set, you can’t argue that.”
“This wouldn’t even be a job, Nestor. What you had with Miguel? It was horrible. I hated it. But it was a job. What you have now? Listen, I know you don’t like it… but for now it helps pay the bills. It’s only temporary.”
“I’m a fucking mall cop.”
You knew how hard it was for Nestor to go from his position of respect to a mall security guard, but when everything had blown up it was exactly what you needed - security. And truth be told, you had come to appreciate that these days you knew your partner was coming home on time and in one piece.
The knots in your stomach when he wouldn’t answer your call had finally disappeared. You ate normal couple meals at a normal time. But you knew Nestor wasn’t happy.
“Why don’t you look further into that security business idea? I think that could be the better route.” You tried to reason.
He sighed your name, “This is a better fit for me, you know that.”
“I don’t even know what the Mayans do, Nestor! Do you?! I know they ride around on motorbikes, you don’t own a bike! And you’d be starting as a prospect, how do you even make money?” You walked back to him at the table and took his hand, “I know you’re not happy where you are. I want you to be happy, Nestor. But… I don’t want to go back to not knowing if you were coming home again.”
You thought back to all the times Nestor had come home injured, or come home a day or two later than promised. The panic and dread that filled your entire being was something you never wanted to experience again.
Nestor gripped your hand and tugged you to stand between his knees, looking up at you, “I know - I know it was hard for you, me working with Miguel. But this is what I’m good at. I don’t have anything else.” You started to disagree but he jumped in again, “This wouldn’t be like before. I wouldn’t be splitting my time between here and Mexico. I’d be here. I’d be close.”
You sighed and lifted one hand to cup his face gently, brushing your thumb back and forth allowing this moment of peace between you.
You knew Nestor needed this.
But you also knew that you couldn’t sit by in a constant state of anxiety like before.
He could make all the promises in the world but you both knew it didn’t change the fact that he was diving straight back into the war zone.
Nestor may have forgotten about your little talk back when everything hit the fan with Miguel, the promises he’d made when you’d set new boundaries.
No more danger.
You couldn’t control whether he’d go with the Mayans. But you could control your response if he did. You knew, and he’d soon learn, that you would have no choice but to leave if he chose this path.
What’s the value in having boundaries if you didn’t?
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bullet-prooflove · 4 months
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Hi. This is an ask for Nestor Oceteva ❤️ The prompt is: 12. You know that I won’t let you fall. Thank you so much.
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References to Nestor's art in Spray Paint  and to events in the upcoming Stockton!Series
Nestor becomes despondent after his paintings are destroyed. You’re hoping it’s a temporary thing, that he’s still processing the attack on your home but the door to the studio remains closed for weeks.
The place he loved has become a source of anguish for him now. Joining the MC instilled a sense of belonging, brothers stretched out across the country, supporting one another. Now when he looks at the ruined artwork all he sees is the betrayal. It doesn’t matter that it was another charter, the people who preached about loyalty and brotherhood had invaded his home, fired bullets into the bed where he’d been sleeping moments before.  
It’s hurts to see him like this, so quiet, so distant. Without painting he lives his life mechanically, going to work at the scrapyard, before he comes home and goes to bed. There are too many changes going on in his life right now and he’s waiting for the next threat because there’s going to be fall out from the way the MC’s shifting right now. Yuma may have fallen into line with Manny at the helm but there’s others that aren’t so forward thinking. Both Marcus and Bishop expect there to be some splinting. With no outlet the only way for Nestor to survive is to shut down and that’s what he’s doing.
He's resistant when you bring him to the empty shop alongside Nina’s tattoo parlour. The space has been vacant for a while, ever since the Galindo Agra Park collapse. The high street is just starting to rejuvenate, the influx of tourism from the Springtime Festival has boosted the economy and they’re starting to see small businesses pop up throughout the area.
“Mi Corazón.” He says wearily as he finds himself standing inside an empty, dusty shop with a paste table sitting in the middle. “What are we doing here?”
“You can’t paint at home. It’s not a safe space for you anymore.” You say softly before gesturing towards the doorway at the very back of the shop. “You need a change of scenery so I’ve set up an area for you upstairs, somewhere private where you can go and do whatever you want, when you want.”
Nestor doesn’t speak, instead he swallows hard against the ache of emotion in his chest as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks towards the boarded-up windows.
“The things that you’re feeling right now, the trauma of what happened, you need to work through that and the way you do that is through painting. I know things are hard for you right now, that you’re struggling but this is how you move past it.”
“What about the rest of it?” He asks you, gesturing at the space. “What are we supposed to do with the downstairs?”
You remove the lime green project book from your bag. The one that Nestor has been working from since he and David were kids. You’d found it when you were trying to put the remnants of your house back together, jammed between some of books that had been torn off the shelves. You remembered him showing it to you when you’d first moved in together.
A nonprofit art gallery, something that showcased the creativity in the community, that delivered programs to help kids channel their trauma, to create and build something from it.
You hadn’t realised how much work he’d put into over the past six months, how he’s refined the concept, included business projections, financial forecasts, marketing ideas. This is Nestor’s legacy you hold in your hands and the good it could do…
Right now, he can’t see past the turmoil he’s feeling, it’s too big, it needs to be taken a step at a time. However, this project book is an avenue to the future, a way to remind him that there’s life beyond that, that he’s more than just the man he is in this moment.
“When you’re feeling better, we should talk about this.” You say setting the project book on the rickety paste table. “About how we’re going to make it a reality.”
Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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Thy Art is Murder - A Nestor Oceteva/Reader Smut Short.
Just a little thing that popped into my brain, so I had to write it. Enjoy!
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Words - 451
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
He wore his hair down. You should have known right away at witnessing those onyx tendrils cascading around him like a dark halo that he’d seek to play your weaknesses. Every single one of them. Your body is the canvas on which he paints the most vivid of sins, your verbal reactions to them the symphonic accompaniment. If art is pleasure, then he is the truest master of such creation.
The bindings that fashion your wrists, intricate knots and twirls of rope binding you to the bed frame are replicated at each ankle, Nestor tying you so that you are a X upon his bed, the marked spot of where his focus draws, where he begins his creation. What he gives, you seek more, from his tongue and fingers to the soft caress of a feather, or the chilled, sharp kiss of a blade, he strokes you before you’re marked, pleasure prefacing the pain.
He maps out all areas with keen exploration, a tongue under the curve of each breast, fingertips stroking the arches of your feet, lips kissing the round of your knees, until he hears the strain against the ropes, the wordless beg for him to acquaint himself with you more intimately.  
"Little dove," he murmurs. "All you have to do is ask."
“Please, Nestor,” you grit, your body shuddering from the radiating hum of energy he’s slowly and carefully been building. “I need to feel you mouth lower.”
He pauses the decadent, slow trawling lick around your navel, dark eyes focusing on you. He then shifts, placing a kiss upon your hip. “Here?”
The action has you in spasm. “No.”
He smirks, his tongue rolling over the apex of your inner thigh. “Here?”  
“No.”
He chuckles, his breath misting heat as he nears your folds, the scent of your arousal like summer wine to him, rich, full-bodied and so very sharply sweet. “Tell me where, mi amor.”
“Right on my clit. Please. Please!” you whimper.  
He kisses your folds, your nectar wetting his lips, repeating, watching the way the muscles in your abdomen bounce, before finally, his tongue grants what you so desire. The action sends warm wells of ecstasy tumbling through you, little pricks of pleasure melting down your spine, his tongue soft, circles drawn lazily over your bud. It’s gratification unmatched, but alas, not for nearly as long as you require.  
You whine, and he reprimands you, slapping your sex with the flat of his fingers. “Uh, uh,” he admonishes, moving to suck upon your nipple. “You will not be greedy. Understand?”  
“I do,” you breathe, his mouth meeting the juncture of your neck.
“Good,” he breathes, tongue moving to flick your earlobe. “Masterpieces always take time.”  
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Chapter Twenty-Seven is now live!
this is a long chapter and has a lot of violence, please read authors notes and take care of yourselves!
AO3 Wattpad
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drabbles-mc · 2 years
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Yours, Mine, Ours
Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader
Inspired by Day 1 of the August Prompts: sunglasses
Warnings: none...just the fact that I haven’t written for Nestor in eons lmao
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Guess who is a glutton for punishment and is going to try and do another month-long marathon of writing a fic a day??? It’s me! I did it last year with the July Prompts and enjoyed it so we’ll see if I can get another streak going. Here’s to day one! Enjoy some little soft slice of life with Nestor. 🥰
General Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @amorestevens @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @bport76​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @choochoo284​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @withmyteeth​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @slut-bitch-brat​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @angelreyesisdaddy04​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @thanossexual​ @xeniarocks​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @bruxasolta​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to my taglist, please let me know!)
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You were lingering by the front door, keys in hand while you waited for him to finish getting ready. You could hear him shuffling around the house as he looked for something. The number of times you’d heard him huff out little sighs of frustration was far too high, but you had to admit that each time it happened you got a bit of a laugh out of it.
Walking out of the hallway, he looked around for a moment as he spoke, “Have you seen my—” he stopped himself short when he finally looked at you, the answer to his question immediately staring him in the face.
You smiled, tilting your head slightly, “Seen your what?”
All of the annoyance immediately faded from his face as he walked over to you, tapping the pair of yellow shades that were resting on top of your head, “I told you, I’ll get you your own pair.”
You chuckled, shaking your head, “But I don’t want my own pair, I just want to keep stealing yours.”
He rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he went to reach for the sunglasses, “But I want to be able to wear my own gla—”
You didn’t let him finish the sentence as you gently grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand down away from your head and pulling him closer to you in the process so you could kiss him on the lips. You could feel the way he smiled against you, and the second you felt his arm loop around the small of your back you knew that you weren’t going to have to give him his glasses back any time soon.
Pulling your lips off of his, you looked at him with a smile, “What were you saying?”
He rolled his eyes at the way you batted your eyelashes at him, but he knew that there was no way he was going to be able to tell you no. He gave you a light peck on the lips, “Nothing,” he swiped the keys from you with a laugh, “Let’s go.”
“I said I could drive!” you chuckled as you followed him out the front door.
“You can’t wear my glasses and drive my car,” he joked as he hit the unlock button on his keys.
“Fine,” you dramatically opened the passenger-side door with a laugh as you swung yourself into the passenger seat on the SUV.
As the two of you cruised down the road, you slowly got more and more settled in the passenger seat. You propped your feet up on the dashboard as you pulled your phone out, scrolling through to find the right playlist for the drive. You felt the way Nestor kept glancing over at you, and you were expecting him to reach over and pull on your legs so that your feet weren’t up on the dash anymore, but instead he just rested his hand on your thigh, giving your leg a light squeeze. You smiled, resting one hand over his as you finally picked a song.
Any time the two of had to drive somewhere that was more than forty minutes away, you always ended up falling asleep. That was half the benefit of Nestor always being the one to drive—you usually got to take a little bit of a nap. If anyone ever had to sit in the passenger seat after you they most likely sank at first with how you had the seat pushed back and angled. Nestor always said that he never understood how it could be comfortable, how you could wake up and not have insane neck problems, but it worked for you.
This wasn’t any different than the other times he drove. Soon enough, you were passed out in the seat beside him, head resting back against the seat. He knew that you fell asleep the second your hand slipped from resting on top of his. Sparing a glance over at you, he couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped past his lips. It was a sight that never got old.
You turned your head in your sleep, the shift in angle causing the sunglasses on top of your head to slip down and land over the bridge of your nose. The sudden feeling of them on your face snapped you awake from your nap, jolting you upright as your eyes popped open. You blinked hard a couple times and when you finally started to really come around, you could hear Nestor’s laughter from the driver’s seat.
Sneaking your fingers underneath the lenses of the shades you were wearing, you rubbed at the corners of your eyes, “How long was I asleep for?”
He shook his head, “Not long.”
“Are we almost there?”
He chuckled at how sleepy you still sounded, “Almost, yea. We got about twenty minutes left.”
“Hm,” you adjusted the glasses so that sat better on your nose, “Not long enough for another nap.”
He shook his head, eyes focused on the road, “Probably not.”
You readjusted your seat, sitting up a little straighter now that you were going to be awake and somewhat alert for the rest of the ride. You reached over, resting your hand over his on top of the center console. He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could see the small, satisfied smile on his face.
“Do me a favor?” he asked.
“Sure, what’s up?”
He nodded towards the glove compartment, “Open that up for me?”
Reaching forward, you popped it open, the door of it dropping down. There was a mess of papers haphazardly stuffed in there, but you also noticed a pair of sunglasses as well. Not the same type of yellow shades that you had taken from him, but just the typical darkly tinted kind.
He nodded again, “Grab those for me?”
You laughed as you reached for them and handed them over to him, “All the times you’ve given me shit about taking these, and you had a backup pair?”
He laughed as he put them on, “I give you shit because they’re mine, not because I don’t have any other pairs.”
“If you have other pairs, can’t these just be ours?”
He shook his head, and even though you couldn’t see it to be sure, you were fairly certain that he rolled his eyes, “No.”
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iamaslutforcoffee · 1 year
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Just Pretend
Chapter One:Princess of Santo Padre
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"Curiosity often leads to trouble"
-Alice in Wonderland (1951)
~~~~~
"¿Tienes algún plan hoy, niña?" (Do You have any plans today baby girl? ) My father asked as I helped him bring in my luggage to abuela's house and into the spare room.
I simply shook my head.
"No, other than going to lunch with Emily. You know she's going to have my head if I don't come meet her and Miguel's son" I replied, finishing off a tight dutch braid of my hair.
"¿Por qué? ¿El club me necesita?" (Why? Does the club need me?) I paused briefly.
He simply chuckled and came over to me, kissing the top of my head.
"tu dedicación a este club me hace pensar que eres miembro de este club" (Your dedication to this club makes me think you're apart of this club) he replied. I simply smiled and finished off the second braid.
"I'm going to head out, they need me in templo.. something about going to base town." He spoke, placing a kiss on my head and heading out the door.
I simply smiled and stood up, walking him to the door and making sure he put on his helmet when riding.
"You know, it's almost like you care about his safety more then me, Fleur" I heard from my best friend. I simply flipped him off.
"Angel, leave her alone. You and I both know she will gut you like a pig" my father spoke and I shook my head.
Its always these damn men.
As i finished getting ready for the day, my phone went off, noticing it was Emily I smiled and answered.
"If you're calling to ask me to babysit absolutely. I'll watch my god baby" I smiled, picking out the days outfit.
"I was actually calling to see if you wanted to have lunch. Miguel is busy doing some kind of work and I don't want to stay in the house with Dita.." Emily spoke, the irritation in her voice evident when she spoke of Dita.
"Emily.. I love you to death. But give me a break on the Dita thing. That's your mother in law..you have got to understand her side of things" I replied. I decided on a simple pair of leggings, a nice and flowy t shirt and a pair of converses. It was extremely hot today in Santo Padre, I wasn't going to try dying just because I wanted to look cute.
"Nicole.. I do understand her side. But she's just so... pushy. Its as if she wishes she was me instead of in her own position. " I could hear the frustration and decided just to bed it. I didn't want to deal with her anger.
"So, where for lunch?" I asked, grabbing my jacket and purse.
"Just here. If its okay, Nestor is picking you up on the way to Miguel."
I sighed. Nestor was Miguel's best friend, and he was merciless. A beautiful, but very troubled man. He was Miguel's right hand, and also his best friend.
As I went to go outside to my car Nestor was already there in the famous black escalade.
"Yeah, he's already here Em. I'll see you soon!" I smiled, hanging up.
I peered at Nestor, whom seemed to be as enthused with me as I was him.
"You gonna let me sit up front or am I still subjected to the back seat?" I asked. He stared me down, the dark orbs of his eyes peering back at me. He cracked a smile and shook his head.
"Always a pleasure, Fleur." He opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in.
" Don't call me that, Duendecillo" (gremlin) I climbed into my seat and put the seat belt on, not trusting his ability to drive. Nestor scoffed and rounded to the drivers side of the vehicle.
"You really ought to give him a chance, Nicole. Hes not that bad." I heard Miguel say from behind me.
"Jesucristo, Miguel. Tienes que dejar de hacerme esa mierda sabiendo muy bien que tengo un corazón débil." (Jesus christ, miguel. You have got to stop doing that shit to me knowing damn good and well I have a weak heart.)
Miguel laughed, shaking his head. Nestor got into the vehicle and put his sunglasses back on, pulling out of the driveway.
"And give him a chance for what? To teach me how to braid my own hair?" I turned in my seat to face my bestfriends husband. I started playing with the end of Nestor's braid, much to his disapproval. I smiled and yanked it a bit, just for him to turn his attention towards me and give me a look that would normally make me melt, but only added fuel to the fire.
"I can't wait to kill you" he simply spoke, and I sat back in my seat.
"First of all, you can't. Emily would have your head and bitch to Miguel which we both know won't go over well. Secondly, where the fuck are you driving? Did you braid your hair too tight because this isn't the way to the estate" I replied. It wasn't a lie.. we weren't even headed in the same direction as Emily and Miguel's home was.
Miguel coughed uncomfortably in his seat, and I looked at him through the mirror. His eyes screamed for me to just please give him a break from our bickering and I sighed, knodding.
Eventually we did stop at an abandoned building, and a group of motorcycles stood outside the entrance.
"Wait, Miguel. Why is my father and the MC here? What's going on?" I asked, turning in my seat.
"It's just a small detour for buisness. I asked the MC for a favor on something and they simply complied. I hope you don't mind.. I can have Nestor drive you to Emily and Cristobal shortly.." he continued but I shrugged.
"No, it's ok. I can visit my father for some more time. " I smiled quickly and got out of the vehicle, being met by my tio bishop.
"Niña, ¿qué haces aquí?" (Baby girl, what are you doing here?) He asked, giving me a quick hug. He was always so protective of me, especially since his son, my cousin, passed away a few years ago. I think he took to me as if I was his own daughter..which was fine. Between him, my father and tio Marcus I was the princess of the Mayans.
"Quick detour, I was on the way to visit Emily. They picked me up. " I replied, looking quickly at Nestor and Miguel.
My eyes set on Nestor, who was standing against the vehicle. His eyes seemed to be trailing me, and as they set on mine he quickly turned his attention away.
We walked in and there was a bigger man tied to a church pew, this must of been what my father was talking about when he said that they were going to Base Town. For some strange reason, Miguel put on a yellow rain coat and it made me giggle.
"Look at him! He looks like he's going to audition for the role of georgie in IT" I quietly spoke to Angel, causing him to giggle.
"Nikki, stop." He replied and I couldn't help myself, I kept going.
"What? Look at him! He about to start singing and shit about dancing in the rain!" I replied, laughing harder. The attention in the room turned to us and I shrugged.
"My apologies" I very quickly spoke, Nestor looking at me with an annoyed look on his face. I shook my head at him and flipped him off, adding what ever fuel to a fire i could.
Miguel turned back to the bound man, starting to question him.
"You ever meet her?" He asked, crossing his hands infront of him.
"Never in person. She'd give us a call or a text, gave us a drop point" the man replied.
"Where?"
"Indio Quarry. We used proxies to drop off the drugs, pick up the cash. Never saw a face..no names.."
Nestor grabbed a bag off of the table behind him, handing it and its contents to Miguel.
"Found this in your jeep. Payment?"
"She didn't tell us it was the cartel..I swear" the man replied.
"Bullshit, your men were told of the fact it was the Galindo Cartel when they robbed the MC. "I spat out, getting annoyed.
"Not now, Fluer. Please. " Miguel spoke to me, turning his attention back to the man.
"Was she.. American?" Miguel spoke.
"No.. spoke English, but she was latina i think. Young. She sounded young. " the man replied. He looked so scared, but I knew it was a guise. I walked to Nestor who was playing with various knives, and picked up a machete.
"Unless you plan on getting your shirt stained and having a meltdown, put it down." Nestor spoke, not bothering to even look at me.
"Nestor, I think you did your braids too tight. You're forgetting I don't have meltdowns over blood on me.. you forget so easily." I cupped his face, smiling.
I walked away from him with the weapon in hand, towards the man. As Miguel turned around I lifted the weapon, and swung it down on the man's arm. He cried out in pain, obviously. His blood splattered on my face, my clothes..
Some of the Mayans who weren't familar with me looked at me in terror, my father simply shook his head and Miguel sighed, shaking his head.
"Nicole... we have people for that. " he spoke, but I put my hand up.
"He basically took food out of Cristobal's tummy. It needed to be done. Besides.. pigtails over there shouldn't be the only one to have fun" i replied. I walked back over to Nestor smiling. The look in his eyes was something different and I just stared at him, using his button up to wipe the blood off my face quickly.
"Dont ever doubt me again, pigtails. " I said quietly to him and walked back outside.
This was going to be fun.
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imagininghim · 11 months
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Drunk Dialling
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A/N: I have heard the song Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan so much on Tik Tok lately. Everytime I hear it I picture Ez, so of course I had to make a story about it.
I hope you enjoy!
Like, comment, reblog!
~~ Flashback ~~
"Swear Ez, it's always the same with you!" She screamed at me, continuing to throw her clothes in a suitcase.
"Mi amour, please we can talk about this!" I said taking ahold of her wrist in attempt to stop her from packing.
"No! It's always the same with you! Club this, Angel that! When is it gonna be me?" She said pulling her wrist from my grasp. I stood there speechless, unsure of what to say. With a sigh, she threw the last of her clothes into the suitcase and zipped it up. "That's what I thought, goodbye Ezekiel." And with that, she picked up the suitcase and walked out the door.
I stayed there and watched her walk out, hoping I would wake up from this nightmare.
~~ End of flashback ~~
It was a regular Friday night at the club, we had been throwing another party. I was sitting at the bar alone, sipping on my fourth or fifth beer of the night when Angel approached me.
"When are you gonna stop sulking little bro? It's been a year, it's time to let her go." With a scoff, I picked up my beer and chugged the rest of it. Signalling the prospect to bring me another as Angel let out a sigh.
"I'm not sulking, I'm just not in a party kind of mood." I said simply.
"You're never in the mood for anything anymore. When are you gonna go back to being your old self again?" I scoffed back at him before taking my beer off the bar and making my way through the crowd. Hearing angel call my name, I ignored it and continued out through the door.
When I got outside, I took a seat on top of the stairs before chugging the rest of my beer and throwing away the empty bottle, the sound of glass shattering in the distance. I pulled my phone out of my jeans and began scrolling through my camera roll and looking at all the pictures of her and I.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the door open and Angel come out.
"You wanna talk about it?" He said, taking the seat beside me on the steps. With a sigh, I slip my phone back into my pocket.
"I miss her." Staring straight ahead, I could feel Angel's eyes on me.
"I know you do, but you can't beat yourself up over it. It's been a year, it's time to move on! Fuck some other bitches and forget her!" I felt anger begin to boil up inside as I stood up and made my down the steps.
"You don't get it!" I snapped. With a sigh, Angel stood up and made his way down the steps and in front of me.
"What don't I get Ez? Huh?!" He snapped back poking at my chest. "It's been a year Ez, she's not coming back! You made your choice, it was her or the club and I know it hurts but you gotta let her fucking go. Ever since she left, all you've been doing is drowning your sorrows in a goddamn bottle instead of moving on!" Anger ran through my veins as I pushed against Angel.
"I can't! Why can't you get that?!" I screamed back at him. "It's not that fucking easy, I love her! Not a goddamn day goes by that I don't see her face, I look for her everywhere I go! I didn't even try to stop her." I felt tears begin forming in my eyes, "I jus- I just let her go, I let her walk out." Angel stared at me in silence. "Why did I let her go?"
"Come on, let's go back inside and forget this." I shook my head before walking past him and over to the steps.
"You go on without me." I said taking a seat. "I'll be in later." Without taking another look at Angel, I heard him let out a sigh before making his way up the steps and back into the club.
As the door closed shut, I pulled out my phone and went into my contacts. Hauling up her contact, I hovered my finger over her number, contemplating on making that call.
Letting the alcohol speak for me, I pressed down on the screen before pulling the phone up to my ear and hearing it ring.
ring... ring... ring... "Hey you reached (Y/N), leave a message and I'll call you back!"
"... Uh, hey... It's Ez... I just wanted to say... I miss you." And with that I hung up the phone. I rubbed my hand over my face, wondering if I was making a mistake leaving her a voicemail. Would she even listen to it? Or would she delete it and pretend I never called?
A million thought swirled around my head as I sat on the steps, the feeling of little wet droplets falling on my skin tore me away from my thoughts.
I let out a sigh, standing up and getting ready to head back into the club when I felt a vibration in my pocket.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)" Flashed across my screen. I slid my finger across the screen, answering the call and placing it against my ear.
"Ez... I miss you too..."
120 notes · View notes
happysoldlady · 1 year
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Coney Island Part 2 - Nestor Oceteva
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a/n: I'm back! Also, I wish I could tell you what this is but I can't. Y'all said you liked this concept so here's a part two. I'm on a real Nestor kick lately. Mans has got me in a grip. Enjoy!
warnings: NSFW!!, fem! reader, brief mentions of violence/abuse
"Fuck, dulce." Nestor groans, rolling his hips against yours, his fingers buried deep in your hips for leverage. He takes pleasure in the way your face relaxes into ecstasy every time his dick meets that spongy spot inside of you. The way your eyebrows furrow as he pulls out, and the rolling of your eyes to the back of your head as he presses back in, moving a thumb to roll over your clit. He feels your pussy clench around him as you reach to touch any part of him. Your nails find his chest, and he lets out a deep groan as you run them down his skin. He picks up the pace on his strokes, keeping the same tempo on your clit, leaving you a withering mess below him. Moments later, the two of you reach your climax together, Nestor then collapsing onto the bed next to you. His chest rising and falling as he tries to settle his breathing, his eyes finding your profile as you take a minute to breathe, your hands lying idly on your chest, eyes closed in relaxation.
Following the incident last month of the two of you being kidnapped, you had found yourselves making up for lost time in the bedroom (and on the kitchen table, bathroom sink, against the wall in the foyer, ottoman in the living room...wherever, really). It had been probably a year since the two of you had had this much sex. Being busy with work, and oddly disconnected from one another had pushed you to opposite sides of your king-sized bed, not sharing it at all some nights. But for the last few weeks, Nestor seemed eager to get home if not for any other reason than to bury himself in you. And well, who would turn down an orgasm from the man you love? However, should the two of you probably talk things through? Absolutely. Were you going to do it while Nestor is fucking your brains out? Absolutely not.
You peel your eyes open, and turn your head, meeting his dark eyes that beam at you with affection. You find yourself wondering if he's always looked at you that way, and if that look will fade when the post-nut clarity comes.
"Te amo." He mutters, as one of his hands reaches out to brush a piece of hair out of your face. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your head. And then, he's up. He strolls to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
You let out a breath, setting up in the bed and pulling a robe around your body. The sex...well, it's great. It's always been great, but sex feels like a band-aid for the disconnect. Nestor comes inside you and then goes off to work while you wait for him to come home and do it again. There is very little conversation...or apologizing.
You hear the shower turn on and let out a breath. A grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you should probably eat something. You slip on a pair of shorts and are digging through the fridge to find ingredients when you hear a rustling outside. Your insides freeze, and you lift your head to look outside your kitchen window. Nothing. You take a breath and shake your head, going back to your search when you hear it again.
“What the fuck?” You mutter under your breath. Taking no chances this time, you scurry back to your bedroom and bang on the bathroom door. “Nestor!!”
The panic in your voice damn near makes him panic. He quickly rinses the suds off his body and turns the water off. He wraps a towel around himself and unlocks the door.
“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He gives you a once over, noticing the way your chest is heaving up and down in a panic. You slip into the bathroom with him, and shut the door making Nestor’s brows furrow.
“I heard something outside.” You rush out, hushed.
“What was it? Like a person?” He asks, leaning over to open the door to go check.
“No, no, no. Don’t go out there.” You say quickly, grabbing his hand before he can turn the doorknob.
His gaze softens and he raises his eyebrows. “Mi dulce, you know I’m not the type to sit here and wait it out.”
You shake your head, swallowing hard. “I just don’t want them to find us again.”
Nestor grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest. He’s still wet from his shower but you don’t mind. He holds you there for a second and you feel him press a kiss to your head. He knows you’ve been stressed since the incident. He’s watched as you glance around, rushing to the door of your home. He’s seen the panic on your face when you can’t find him at work events. Your newfound hyper-vigilance has not gone unnoticed by him.
“Mi amor, no podemos vivir nuestras vidas con miedo de algo que puede suceder o no.” Nestor says, taking your face into his hands. “I protected you then, and I’ll protect you now. Always.”
A shaky breath escapes past your lips and your eyes dance between his in uncertainty. You open your mouth to reply but his lips come down to your own for a few seconds.
“I’ll get dressed and take a look around. Give me five minutes.” He mumbles against your lips and then disappears before you can protest.
Ten minutes later, you are pacing around your living room, biting at your nails. The fear of not knowing if something actually was out there is starting to get the better of you when Nestor slips back inside. He slips his shoes off at the door and then meets your worried gaze.
His gaze meets your and he gives you a small smile. “The coast is clear, mi dulce.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and take a seat on the couch. Nestor’s eyebrows furrow as he watches your head fall into your hands. He crosses the floor and kneels down in front of you, his hands coming up to hold yours.
“I would never let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you?” Nestor questions, his eyes searching yours.
You want to reassure him. Tell him that you’re sleeping well and that you know he would never let anything happen to you. But the look in his eyes when those guys threw you into that van haunts you. He was helpless. And you were helpless. And there was absolutely nothing that he could do to maintain your safety. Especially after they separated the two of you.
Your mouth opens to whisper the lie to him, to tell him that you have faith in him but the words die on your tongue and his face twists in confusion.
“Hey,” Nestor breathes out, moving to sit next to you on the couch. You turn your body to face him, your hands falling to tug on your fingers. “What’s happening in that head of yours?”
You look up at him, your hands gripping onto each other to stop the shaking. “Something already did happen. And we couldn’t do anything.”
Nestor shakes his head. “You are safe now. You were always going to be okay. I would have never let them actually hurt you.”
“They did hurt me.” You whisper, looking away from him. “They did. And you weren’t there. You were in the van. And it’s not your fault and I’m not blaming you because you are just a human being. But I’m afraid, Nestor. All the time.”
Nestor’s heart shatters in his chest. You’ve been together for years, and no it’s not always been the perfect relationship but the love he has for you is deep and unrelenting. Never did he think that fear would be the thing you felt while with him.
He takes your hands gently into his, pressing a kiss to each of them and then meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you then. I tried.”
You shake your head and it’s your turn to take his face into your hands. “No, no, no. You did everything you could and I know that. And I love you for it. And I feel the most safe when I’m here with you. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”
His eyebrows are furrowed and he shakes his head. “What else can I do to make you feel safe? More boxing training? Do we need to find a new house?”
The desperateness in Nestor’s voice breaks your heart and you shrug, “Those might help. We can try them.”
He nods at you, his hands grabbing at you and pulling you onto his lap. His arms wrap around your waist and he holds you close to him. The two of you sit like this for a while. Probably too long, but despite your anxiety, you really do feel safest in his arms.
“Do you want to talk about how they hurt you?” Nestor mumbles against your chest after a while. You lean back so you can meet his gaze. His dark eyes are somehow even darker and you lean down to catch his lips with your own.
“Yes. But I don’t want the details to hurt you.” You mumble, using your hands to smooth over his hair.
He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about me, mi amor. I want to know.”
So you do. You sit in his lap and tell him everything. The pain, the fear, the shooting. Their greedy hands grabbing at you and making innuendos toward further abuse. The way they kept laughing that Nestor couldn’t help you. By the time you’ve told him everything, you can feel Nestor’s anger buzzing under his skin.
His arms tighten around your waist and he buries his face in your chest. "I should've ripped them limb from limb."
You let out a quiet chuckle and press a kiss to the top of his hair. "And I know you would have if you had known."
Nestor leans his head back against the couch, deep in thought. You trace a finger along his jawline and wait for him to gather his thoughts. Several minutes later, he meets your gaze and you don't recognize the look on his face.
"Do you remember that apartment you lived in when we first met?" He asks, one of his hands coming up to smooth down your hair. You nod, silently wondering where he's going with this.
"I remember the first time you invited me over." He starts, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. "I was so nervous. Worried that this life wasn't going to be what you wanted, and absolutely positive that it wasn't what you deserved. I walked into that apartment and it was in one of the shittiest neighborhoods in Santo Padre and somehow, you had made it nice. The walls painted a green color and plants everywhere. You were wearing these baggy pants with a white shirt and denim button-up thing, and you offered me lemonade." Nestor lets out a laugh at the memory, as if it's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "No one has ever looked at me and thought to offer me lemonade."
You smile, "I just didn't want you to be thirsty."
Nestor's eyes lighten up as he laughs. "You're the most effortlessly thoughtful person that I know." His face grows serious and then he closes his eyes. "I know that this past year has not been easy. And I know that I have driven you to some dark places in your mind and I can never apologize enough."
You wait for him to finish, your fingers running up and down his arm in an attempt to comfort him as he speaks.
"I can't promise you that people like those pieces of shit won't hurt you again, mi amor. I wish I could. I can promise you that I will die trying to stop them." He says seriously, his eyes locked onto yours. "And if you want to leave and get out of this shit, I won't stop you. Hell, after the year we've had I wouldn't blame you."
Your face crumples at his suggestion. You shake your head at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his mouth. Nestor's hands find your waist and squeeze as you deepen the kiss. Your hands tangle into his hair and tug as you resituate yourself on his lap. Nestor lets out a deep groan, and you feel him pressing against you.
You grind down onto him, his lips trailing down your neck, suckling onto the skin there. You're breathless by the time his lips find yours again and he lifts your legs, laying your back down gently on the couch. Your robe falls open and he quickly undoes the tie, his dark eyes trailing over you.
You shrug off the robe and toss it onto the floor, reaching down to remove Nestor's shirt and then his shorts. His lips find yours again and his hand trails up your leg. He revels in the sound you make when his fingers brush over your sex. He removes his lips from yours and trails them down your body. He lines his mouth up to your sex and licks a long stripe up, his tongue focusing on your clit. Your hands find his hair again and you let out a moan. His lips wrap around your clit and he inserts a finger into you. Then another.
"Oh my fuck." You curse, your back arching at his assault. Nestor continues for several minutes, adding another finger which causes you to cry out. The familiar pleasure builds in your lower abdomen and you moan out his name as the pressure snaps.
His fingers fuck you through your orgasm and then he comes up, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on him. You groan, gripping onto his back. You can feel him pressing into your leg and spread your legs further to accommodate him.
"Hmmm, always so thoughtful." He mutters against your lips. You grin and urge him forward. "What is it? What do you want?"
"I want you to fuck me." You mumble, tugging lightly on his hair. He growls, and teases his tip at your entrance. One of his hands come up to rest against your throat. He meets your gaze and tightens his grip as he sheathes himself inside you.
"Oh fuck, Nestor." You moan out, your back arching against him. He lifts his hip and thrusts back into you. Hard. The sound that comes from his throat damn near makes you come right then and there.
Nestor sets a quicker pace than usual, never letting up pressure on your throat in a positively delicious way. His eyes stay locked on yours, silently checking in on you as he watches your mouth drop open in pleasure.
"Fuck mi amor, you look so fucking good like this." He grumbles, his mouth coming to make its assault on your ear.
You let out a moan and reach a hand down to your clit. The familiar twinge of pleasure begins to build again and you let out a louder moan.
"That's it, mi dulce. Go ahead and fucking come for me." He coaxes, his hand tightening some on your throat. Your orgasm washes over you in waves and Nestor fucks you through all of them before reaching his high as well.
He pulls out of you slowly, immediately removing his hand from your throat. His eyes meet yours and he presses a kiss to your lips, grinning at the fucked-out look on your face. He settles himself between your legs and rests his head on your bare chest.
Several minutes pass before anyone speaks, but oddly enough, Nestor is the first to break the silence. "I don't want you to think that I'm complaining but you didn't answer my question."
You let out a giggle and shake your head, "There's no one else in the world I want to have near-death experiences with. Let's just maybe get a camera on the front door or something."
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band--psycho · 6 months
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New Character Update
So there's a few characters that I've been meaning to write for, I have a few ideas of my own but I would love to get some requests for them!!
The new character are:
LT. Simon 'Ghost' Riley - Modern Warfare
CPT. John Price - Modern Warfare
Alucard (Adrian Tepes)- Castlevania
Treveor Belmont - Castlevania
Gilber 'Gilly' Lopez - Mayans M.C
Hank Loza - Mayans M.C
Angel Reyes- Mayans M.C
Nestor Oceteva - Mayans M.C
As I said before I would love to get some requests for any of the characters above (the requests can be fluffly, angsty, smutty, or a mixture of all of them if you wish).
I will be continuing to post the stories for my 3.6k drabble challenge in the mean time so stay tuned for those as well!
Thank you all for your continued support! 💛
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superhoeva-archived · 2 years
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❜ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐒 ❛
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Angel Reyes x Gabriella Adéline Carter (Black!Female!OC), Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Gabriella Adéline Carter (Black!Female!OC), Miguel Galindo x Gabriella Adéline Carter (Black!Female!OC)
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 27.1k
𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: August 13, 2022
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 15/? (eleven chapters, four drabbles)
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𝐊𝐄𝐘
† - nsfw
∞ - author favorite
✎ - director’s cut
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒
“𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨/𝐎𝐜” (𝟏𝐱𝟎𝟏)
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐬𝐦, 𝟐.𝟖𝐤 - During a run-of-the-mill drop, the Mayans and Gabriella are gifted with an unpleasant surprise.
𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨, 𝟐.𝟗𝐤 - The Mayans and Gabriella have a tense meeting with Miguel Galindo. Ezekiel finds himself with a newfound crush. ∞
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝟐.𝟖𝐤 - Alvarez finally makes it to Santo Padre, and Ezekiel and Gabriella connect a little more.
𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝟐.𝟗𝐤 - Gabriella deals with how much someone from her past has changed, and Miguel holds a rather bloody event in his pew.
𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝟑.𝟖𝐤 - Ezekiel’s cousin KJ pays him a unexpected visit. Angel and Gabriella bring the prospect in on their secret affairs.
“𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐃𝐳𝐞𝐜” (𝟏𝐱𝟎𝟐)
𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭, 𝟑.𝟐𝐤 - The MC goes on the search for some answers on a new possible threat.
𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝟐.𝟕𝐤 - The Rebels go through with their plan, leaving Miguel to turn to the Mayans for some much needed help. 
𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝟐.𝟒𝐤 - In the search for his son’s whereabouts, Miguel’s rage boils over.
"𝐁𝐮𝐡𝐨/𝐌𝐮𝐰𝐚𝐧" (𝟏𝐱𝟎𝟑)
𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝟑.𝟎𝐤 - Gabriella’s lying rubs a certain someone the wrong way. KJ makes a surprise visit. The Mayans set up a meeting at the San Buho Casino.
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝟎.𝟗𝐤 - KJ makes his rounds.
𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝟏.𝟓𝐤 - The Mayans head to the San Buho Casino.
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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝟎.𝟐𝐊) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐬𝐦
☄. *. ⋆ A little glimpse into Ezekiel’s head when he meets Gabriella.
𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝟎.𝟐𝐤) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
☄. *. ⋆ Marcus and Gabriella mourn together.
𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝟎.𝟔𝐤) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
☄. *. ⋆ Gabriella meets Miguel.
𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬 (𝟎.𝟖𝐤) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
☄. *. ⋆ Gabriella confronts Miguel.
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𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀/𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐒 ✧.*
𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞™ || 𝐆𝐚𝐛����𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞™ ||  𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞™ || 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞™ || 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋'𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐞™ || 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈™ || 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚™ || 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞™
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𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 || 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 || 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒/𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐓𝐀𝐆 
© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚
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kittenofanarchy · 2 years
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Watch Mayans they said it'll be fun they said...
What fucking writing infused dreamland of sexy did I just land in?!?
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nestor423 · 4 months
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bullet-prooflove · 4 months
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Hi 👋🏻 Here is another prompt for Nestor Oceteva ❤️ #18 “So take these words, some good advice” from the ‘Mini Radio Show Prompt List’. Thank you so much.
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Nestor wants to marry you; he has for a long time. The problem is you’ve never expressed any interest in it, he isn’t even sure if it’s on your radar. He rises the issue with Marcus when he’s collecting Santi for comic art class one afternoon. The young boy is packing up his sketchbook and pencils in his bedroom whilst Nestor stands in the kitchen with Marcus, the other man in the midst of making a cup of green tea when he broaches it.
“I want to marry Rosa.” He finds himself telling the other man.
Marcus smiles, his gaze fixated on the mug in front of him as he pours the hot water into it.
“And you want my permission?” Marcus asks as he picks up the cardboard tab of the teabag and begins to manipulate the string.
He raises his eyes to meet Nestor’s and the two of them share a smile. Marcus has been a father figure in your life for as long as you could remember, and he’s always been Nestor’s confidant when it comes to matters of the heart. There was a time a few years ago when they’d both sat in this kitchen wondering if they’d ever see you again. The fact he’s here right now, discussing this is a testament to just how far the two of you have come.
“I don’t know if it’s something that she wants.” Nestor says, outlining his problem to Marcus.
“It’s a tough one mijo,” Marcus sighs, taking a sip from his tea. “The truth is I have no idea. There was a time I would have said never but she’s settled over the past couple of years, put down roots. She may be ready for a little more security.”
He gives Nestor a moment to process his words. The other man has always been a grounding presence in your life, he’s given you a stability you’ve been lacking over the years, and he couldn’t ask for a better son in law if you choose to go down that path.
“I think the best course of action would be to sit down and have a conversation with her.” Marcus tells Nestor, “Get a feel for where she is with the whole idea.”
he knows that Marcus is right, that springing a proposal would be a bad idea. You have a habit of bolting when you get overwhelmed, and Nestor hates the thought of putting you in that position.
Every single one of the decisions you’ve made about moving forward have been together and Nestor intends to keep it that way.
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Come Undone - A Nestor Oceteva/Reader Short.
Just a lil’ bit of fluffiness for Nes! 
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Words - 583
Warnings - None! 
“Are you okay?”
You shuffle onto your side, turning to look at him. “I’m sleepy.”
He snorts softly at this, reaching to stroke your face. “Oh, really? I could never tell.”
His sarcasm is always soft, never biting, unless he’s angry about something. With you, though, he has little cause to ever be vexed. Well, perhaps when you take much too long deciding on food, or where to go in order to get it in the first place. For a man whose whole life is steeped in bullets and bloodshed, Nestor is remarkably calm and controlled. He has to be, you suppose.  
“I believe the technical term is dick drunk.” Your words have him laughing quietly in an instant.
“That doesn’t sound very technical to me.” The proud smirk that lights up his face has enough wattage behind it to power an entire city. “I’ll take it, though.”  
“Well, why break the habit of a lifetime?” He frowns, pinching you. “Nes, no!”
“You know your sass won’t be tolerated, young lady.” Oh yes, how right he is. “Besides, you’ve only known me a few months. Give it time before you make such sweeping statements.”
You scoff, poking him in the chest. “Oh, I need more than four months, do I, to attest that you soak up compliments like a sponge without even a hint of modesty?”
“You just let me fuck your mouth until I came all over your face, and you’re mentioning modesty?” He snort laughs, shaking his head, rooting a finger into one of his braids and scratching his head.  
“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, waving your hand at his comment, sitting up a little. “Whatever.”  
“You’re cute, you know that?”
You beam, watching as he continues to scratch. “I try.” A moment of pause follows, your fingers curling around one of his braids, giving it a gentle shake. “You should just unbraid your hair if your head itches. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair loose, either. How long is it?”
“Long!” he exclaims with a soft snort. “You can unravel ‘em if you like?”
You like.  
Shifting up, you push his back gently, encouraging him to move and seat himself between your legs, Nestor stroking your calves as you unfasten the first one, placing the band down on the nightstand, your fingers unhooking each careful link. He's better at doing his hair than you are yours, you think, knowing that your own endeavours in attempting French braids were not executed quite as neatly. You work up to his scalp, the hair coming loose in your hands, a mountain of black waves becoming free, repeating the same on the other side.  
“Oh wow,” you exclaim softly, letting the curls tumble through your fingers. “You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever encountered. Shit, what’s your conditioner bill like every month?”
He raises his eyebrows, leaning back against you. “Enough for me to consider buying shares in Aussie.” You knew you recognised the scent somewhere.  
“You should wear it down more often,” you comment, Nestor shaking his head.  
“Nah, it gets in the way.”
“Of what?”
He turns, pushing your legs wider apart, kissing you between your breasts. “Lots of things. One in particular.”  
Half an hour later, and you’re left wondering why he’d think that, as clutching handfuls of his beautiful mane while he goes down on you, from your perspective at least, is only an added bonus to anything sexual, rather than the hindrance he alluded it to be.  
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thegirlwhowritesfics · 3 months
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AO3 Wattpad
Chapter Twenty-Three is now live!
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drabbles-mc · 1 year
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Doctor Recommended
Nestor Oceteva & Erin Thomas
For Day 6 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: painkillers/bad coping mechanisms
Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, mentions of pills
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: In a twist that is shocking to no one at all, I do have a bigger fic about these two sitting in my wip folder as we speak. It exists completely separate from this one-shot, but it does exist. Despite the fact that the two of them have never shared a single second of screentime, you can catch me constantly thinking about Nestor and Erin together anyway. No one can stop me. 😌
Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @yourwonkywriter @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @anditsmywholeheart @artemiseamoon @nessamc @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @passionatewrites @darqchilddaydreamz @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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The house was silent as Nestor made his way through to the kitchen. Despite the fact that the last forty-eight hours had gone horrendously, and that his right arm was now strapped down in a sling, he still was pulling his overnight watch at the Galindo house. Realistically, he didn’t know how much use he would be if something were to happen, but the house had yet to be ambushed in the dead of night so he figured it would be a relatively safe and easy shift.
For the few hours that he’d been there so far, everything had been quiet. Everyone was upstairs and, presumably, asleep. The house was as close to silent as it would ever be. Most of what he’d been doing was just patrolling and making sure that nothing looked like it was out of the ordinary.
Even though it’d been an uneventful night so far, it didn’t stop the shooting pain in his shoulder that was quickly starting to travel down his arm. The doctor had given him painkillers when he’d initially gotten checked out. The pain hadn’t been bad enough, in Nestor’s opinion, to warrant them yet. However, he also had no intention of spending the entire night in pain. So he made his way to the kitchen with the intention of finally taking a couple of the pills to at least take a bit of the edge off.
Erin was quietly making her way back to her room upstairs from the bathroom when she heard noises coming from downstairs. If it had been anyone else’s house, she would’ve assumed that it was nothing, but it wasn’t just anyone’s house. She didn’t pretend to know all the details of what Miguel got up to when he left the house, but she knew that things hadn’t been going well lately. After all, there was no other reason that the man would’ve called her and invited her to the house.
She was regretting all of that as she crept down the stairs and started making her way towards the noise. She knew that it was an ill-informed decision—it wasn’t like she had any weapons on her and she had no interest in getting into a brawl with an intruder, but it was too late now. She was too committed to the plan.
The closer she got to rounding the corner to get into the kitchen, the better she could make out some of the actual sounds. She heard someone grumbling but she couldn’t quite make out the words. Then she heard something clattering against the countertops. Her heart felt like it was starting to creep up into her throat as she tried to brace herself for rounding the corner.
She stepped into the kitchen with more speed and gusto than necessary, and with more than she thought she would be able to muster given the late hour. She was holding her breath, eyes wide as she looked around to see who was in the house and what was going on.
Her sudden appearance caught Nestor off-guard. The still-closed pill bottle in his hands slipped from his grasp and clattered against the counter again. He whipped around to face her, having to reach with his non-dominant hand for his gun, the motion much slower than it would’ve been if he actually had use of his right arm.
That turned out to be a good thing for both of them, though. In the time that it took for him to try and reach for his gun, he realized that it was only Erin, and the extra couple of seconds that she had on him because of her silent approach allowed her to see that it was only Nestor. As much as she hated that Miguel always seemed to have people wandering around the house at all hours, she was glad that he was at least supposed to be there.
“Fuck me,” she said, the words sounding more like a sigh of relief than anything else.
Nestor was struggling to re-holster his gun, eyes trained on that rather than Erin as he asked, “What are you doing up?”
She walked deeper into the kitchen, landing herself on the opposite side of the island from him. “I thought I heard someone breaking in to try and, I don’t know, kill everyone.” Even with her hushed voice, the sarcasm was impossible to miss.
He lifted his eyes and looked at her, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of her in a ratty, over-sized t-shirt and pajama shorts. All he could think was that if he had been someone breaking in, Erin wouldn’t have posed much of a threat. “Planned on being the first to go?”
She laughed quietly and rolled her eyes. “Big talk coming from the guy who can’t pull his gun right now.” She leaned forward so that her forearms were braced against the countertop. “Why are you even here? Like, are you even useful right now?”
Nestor would’ve taken more time to be annoyed by her commentary if he hadn’t been so busy battling it out with the bottle of pills in his hand. “Useful enough,” he grumbled out.
An amused grin came over her lips as she watched him struggle. “Yea, I see that.”
Nothing more was said between the two of them as Nestor continued to fiddle with the bright orange bottle of pills. Erin perched her chin in her hand as she watched him. She could’ve easily gone back to bed, but she knew that she wasn’t going to fall back to sleep anytime soon so there was no point. Instead, she kept herself camped out on the opposite side of the island, perfectly content while Nestor had growing frustration to pair with his intensifying pain.
Erin wouldn’t have had any problem popping the top off the bottle of pills for him, but she wanted him to ask for the help. She didn’t have any specific problem with Nestor that made her want to watch him struggle, but she knew that it really wouldn’t kill him to just ask for some assistance.
He could feel her eyes on him as his left hand wrapped around the bottle and tried to get the top off. As if being in pain wasn’t enough, now he had an audience to his temporary incompetence. He didn’t have to be looking at her to know that she was getting a kick out of it all, probably scheming up some smart remarks. He was no stranger at this point to being on the end of those, but the pain he was in made him a little less tolerant of it all.
A couple different times he tried to use the hand of his arm that was bound in the sling. Each time, though, he was reminded that everything in his arm and hand were connected because another jolt of pain would go through him when he attempted to put apply any kind of pressure with that hand.
Letting out a deep sigh, he fought the urge to just slam the plastic bottle against the countertop. His left hand was clamped down tightly over the lid, and even in the low lighting of the kitchen Erin could see the clench in his jaw as he tried not to throw the entire thing across the house.
His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath, ready to make another futile attempt at it all. Erin didn’t know how long the two of them had actually been standing there on either side of the island, but it was far too long for so little reward. The second he lifted the bottle off the countertop, Erin leaned over the island, nearly lifting her feet off the floor in the process of reaching, and snatched the bottle out of his hand.
“I can’t fuckin’ watch this anymore,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“I—”
“No you don’t,” she didn’t allow him to try and argue. It took her all of five seconds to get the lid off. She handed the bottle back over to him, keeping the lid to herself as she spun it on the counter like it was a coin she’d found along the way.
Her hand toyed idly with the cap to the bottle while she watched Nestor set the bottle down before turning around and stepping over towards the cupboards where all of the glasses and plates were kept. Reaching up, he pulled the door to one open and grabbed a glass tumbler for himself. Erin assumed that he was going to put it under the sink faucet and fill it with water. Instead, though, he set the glass down on the counter and reached for one of the bottles of whiskey intermingled among hers and Emily’s numerous bottles of wine.
That was a bottle that he was able to get the cap off of with no problem. Erin chuckled as she watched him pour a fairly generous amount of the liquor into the glass that he’d gotten. He screwed the cap back onto the bottle, sliding it back into place before moving the glass to the island where the open bottle of pills sat.
Everything felt like it took so many more steps than necessary when he only had use of one hand. He set the glass down and grabbed the pill bottle, shaking two out onto the counter before setting the bottle back down. He swiped the pills up and tossed them into his mouth, holding them there for a moment as he grabbed the glass of whiskey. He took a large sip to wash the pills down. Once that was done, he took another sip for good measure before setting the glass back down.
Erin was watching the entire thing, chuckling to herself as she did. “Yea,” she said when Nestor set the glass back down, “I think that’s exactly how the doctors recommend you take those.” She ignored Nestor’s lack of a response as she reached across the counter for the bottle again. Making a big show of turning the bottle in her hand and reading the label, she said, “Right here, actually. Make sure to take with copious amounts of alcohol.”
Nestor shook his head at her as he drummed his fingers on the outside of his glass. He knew her well enough to know that whether or not he gave her an argument about it, she was going to keep talking anyway. Every day he wondered how she and Emily came from the same family. He and his brother had been different, sure, but nothing like the two of them.
Erin half-expected Nestor to tell her to go back to bed. Or, at the very least, simply walk away from her and out of the kitchen. It wasn’t as though he was chatty with her under the best circumstances, let alone a night like this. But still, he hadn’t left, hadn’t tried to send her away.
“So, what happened, anyway?” she asked, her voice so much quieter than it usually was.
He was so caught off-guard by how genuine she sounded when she asked that he almost gave her the answer. He opened his mouth to tell her, but stopped himself. Instead, he just shook his head. “Nothing.”
Erin sighed, shaking her head as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yea, last time I ended up popping painkillers with my arm strapped down it was also because of nothing.”
She waited for him to have some sort of response, something passive-aggressive and dismissive all at once. But he was silent. The two of them stayed across from each other, silently staring at each other and waiting for the other to have something to say. If history was evidence to anything, it was that Erin was going to have something to say first. However, it seemed like she was determined to get him to speak up for once.
He knew that getting into any of it with her was going to do more harm than good. There was nothing that she could do about it, no help that she could offer. And if she was already paranoid about whoever was in the house, telling her about the threats they were dealing with outside the house on a regular basis wasn’t going to help ease any of her unrest.
Instead of offering her anything substantial, he asked, “Can you put the cap back on that?”
She watched as he nodded towards the pill bottle that was sitting in front of her. Her knee-jerk reaction was to be petty and tell him to do it himself. He saw it in her eyes that she didn’t want to make things easy for him if he wasn’t going to offer her any kind of answers. But the harshness in her eyes only lasted for a moment before it softened slightly and she put the cap back on for him. Her concession to that was the most she’d ever seemed to be like Emily in the entire time that Nestor had known her.
“Next time you gotta open it, you’re on your own,” she said as she slid it across the counter to him.
A tiny smirk pulled at the one end of his mouth, but he didn’t say anything, instead giving a short nod of acknowledgment. He stood there waiting, assuming from her tone and her comment that she was going to go back to bed. Instead of leaving him to his own devices, Erin walked around to the other side of the island and grabbed her own glass. Nestor watched her intently, wondering what she was going to grab for herself. Much to his surprise, she reached for the same bottle that he had only a short while before.
She poured herself a smaller portion than Nestor had poured for himself. Once she put the cap back on, she stepped back to the island, her and Nestor now both on the same side. Setting her glass out of harm’s way, she hoisted herself up so that she was sitting on the edge of the counter, legs dangling over the edge of it. Nestor didn’t comment on it or try to move away from her. He watched as she grabbed her cup and took a sip, cringing slightly as it went down.
The silence between them was welcome, comfortable even. It wasn’t often that the two of them found themselves in each other’s company with no one else around. Typically wherever Nestor was, Miguel or Emily wasn’t far behind. There were a million questions that Erin wanted to ask since it was just the two of them for once, but she was smart enough to know that she wouldn’t get the answers to any of them.
“Future reference,” she finally broke the silence as she toyed with the glass in her hands, “the wine is way better.”
It was the first time Erin had ever heard Nestor let out anything reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle. She chalked it up to the painkillers finally starting to kick in. He nodded in acknowledgment as he picked up his glass and brought it back to his lips, taking another sip without a word.
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