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garbinge · 1 year

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Prank Wars

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Day 24 from these April Prompts: “Wholesome Pranks”

Summary: Prank Wars at the scrapyard!

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Angsty, Pranks, Cursing. Mentions of dead parents and family struggling with sickness and addiction.

A/N: okay, so huge shoutout to Tay because she planted this fun little seed in my head for this fic!!

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705

It had been a few years since you started working at the scrapyard, it wasn’t a luxurious job but it was one that not only paid the bills but gave you some extra in your pockets. Angel had hooked you up with the job when he saw you were struggling. Home wasn’t exactly a home, your parents weren’t alive anymore, hadn’t been since you were younger. It left you to live with your grandmother who hadn’t just taken you in but also your aunt and cousins. It was an overcrowded and overwhelming house and it sat 5 doors down from the Reyes house. It wasn’t instant but somewhere down the line as the years passed you became close with the eldest Reyes brother just doors down from you and now, as adults, he was your best friend.

Angel originally had gotten you a job as barback at the clubhouse, and you were grateful for it. It saved you up enough money to get out of your grandma’s house and into your own space. Something small, or cozy as you called it, but your own. You had eventually worked your way into the scrapyard because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Overhearing Bishop and Taza talk about numbers and manufacturer meetings and how business wasn’t doing too great as you served them beer was the first step into it. You offered your two cents on how to boost business, that turned into giving some occasional business advice. You had gotten an associates degree in business, opportunity was just lacking in Santo Padre. Eventually, you started pulling in buyers, which led you to where you were now. You had taken the scrapyard truck out to a potential buy, but were driving back with a loss. It had already started out as a rough morning and it was just getting rougher.

It was days like this that you forgot about the multi-year long prank war that you had going with the guys in the club. It was something you and Angel had started prior to you getting close with the club and once it became known across the club, there was no way Gilly and Coco weren’t going to be apart of it. Now, the prank war wasn’t something front of the brain 24/7, that was the secret behind making it successful all these years. It was random. It was calculated but spontaneous all at the same time.

You whipped open the door to the scrapyard office, it made Angel jump, a scene that would have brought you to laughter any other day but you ignored currently.

“What the fucks got you twisted?” Angel was now standing, his sleeveless Romero Bros. work shirt covered in dirt and rust.

“California fuckin’ Steel company. That’s who.” You threw your bag on the desk and placed your hands on your head in an act of stress.

“Okaaaay,” Angel frowned and stepped out from behind the desk so he was standing to your right. “They’re always on some fuck shit, what’s really your issue?” He saw right through you, a perk and downfall of him knowing you so well.

You took a deep breath and turned to look up at him as he towered over you. You saw the cuphead patch on his shirt and smirked. “You put the patch I gave you on.”

Cuphead was a memory you two shared, sitting after school in front of the TV in the Reyes’ living room and playing until Marisol called out for dinnertime or Felipe unplugged the xBox to watch baseball.

Angel looked down at his shirt and back at you, “Yea, I couldn’t put that shit on my kutte, I’d never hear the end of it.”

You laughed and shook your head, when you gave him the patch you expected it to sit leaning on the outside of a picture frame in his house, not on any of his clothing items.

“My grandma’s sick and my cousin, he’s fuckin’ on hooked on that shit again. It’s got him stealing and not just shit around the house but taking my grandma’s pills now.”

“Fuck.” Angel whispered under his breath and looked away for a second before he was looking back down at you again.

“It’s fine, I talked to my aunt, they’re looking to put my grandma into a home or something.” You rolled your eyes and let out a sigh.

“That’s bullshit, your grandma’s lived in that house practically her whole life they should send your junkie ass cousin away.” He was getting loud.

“It’s out of my hands Angel,” You lifted your hands up in innocence “I offered for her to come stay at my place instead, but you know my aunt, she’s” you shook your hand in a way that was meant to describe your aunt as you turned around to look for your car keys. “You get a chance to look at my car yet?”

After your third time having trouble starting your car, you had asked Angel if he could look at it, it wasn’t the same as giving it to a mechanic but Angel knew a thing or two about mechanics since having his bike.

“Oh,” Angel went deep into thought, “uh, no.” He reached down and snatched the keys as you went to grab them yourself.

You looked at him confused.

“I’ve been up to my fuckin’ eyeballs in paperwork that I barely understand.” He pointed to the stack of manila folders on the table. “Haven’t had a chance to look at it.”

“Oh alright, well, I’ll take the paperwork. Least I can do so you can fix my shit and save me the 200 bucks. I’ll be in the clubhouse if you need me.”

“Aight.” Angel let his shoulders slump once you were out of the office. Gilly and Coco making their way into the office now.

“Yo, you fuck with the wiper fluid and put that fake broken glass shit on her car?” Gilly chuckled as he walked in.

“I’m bout to go take that shit out.” Angel sounded on edge.

“The fuck for?” Coco asked, confused since he had thought it was a genius prank.

“She’s got a lot going on man, it just ain’t the right time.” Angel was making his way out to reverse the pranks he had done to your car.

“We gotta get them both.” Gilly said with a smirk once Angel was out of earshot.

“Fuck yea we do.” Coco said, bringing a cigarette up to his mouth.

_____

Angel calling out your name caused you to turn around. As you did, you realized the clubhouse had filled up since you had posted up to work in here. A few of the club guys and some hang arounds filling the tables surrounding you.

“I fixed your car, needed a new battery. Nothing serious. Got one from Walmart.” Angel was making his way over to you and as he reached the seat next to you, he pulled the chair out and made himself comfortable before sliding the keys over to you.

“Thanks, how much was it? I’ll send you the money.” You pulled your phone out.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just have me over for dinner or some shit soon.” He smirked hoping it’d earn a smile from you as well.

It did. You smiled and grabbed your keys from the table.

“You know,” Angel started his sentence without a single thought about where it was really headed, not sure how to say the next few words. “Uh,” he leaned forward, clearly uncomfortable.

“Spit it out, Angel.” You were now leaning forward too, placing your hand on Angel’s knee in hopes to get him to say whatever he was trying to.

It did the opposite, it choked him up more until he finally just said it. “I was thinkin’, you could come stay with me if you wanted.”

Your face twisted in muddled confusion which caused Angel to panic. “Nah I just mean, you know, your grandma might be comin’ to your place and I know you worked mad hard to get your whole bach pad situation and appreciate your alone time so I figured I’d offer my place up,” he said before practically cutting himself off to keep going. “And I know it wouldn’t be living alone but I’m usually always here anyways so you’d have the place to yourself way more than if you stayed with your grandma. I just figured it’d be worth the offer with everything going on–”

You cut Angel off as you lifted off your seat and wrapped your arms around him tightly. His seat pushed back a little from the force of your embrace, he sat there frozen for a second before he let his hands rest on your back.

“Thank you.” You whispered as you hugged him tightly. A few whistles from the guys filled the air, a couple howls too as you embraced your best friend. It wasn’t shocking, it was a normal occurrence, everyone was in on you and Angel’s connection except the two of you.

Before you had a chance to make a comment back to them, the clubhouse doors were busting open and Coco and Gilly were entering inside with water guns pointed directly at you and Angel.

“Get wrecked motherfuckers!!!!!” Gilly screamed as the water gun pressured out gallons of water each time he pumped the gun.

Out of instinct, Angel grabbed you around your waist as you two toppled behind the table in an attempt to block yourselves from their range. You let out a belly laugh as your backs leaned against the underneath of the table that was turned to its side. Angel looked over at you his frown turning into a smile.

“We are so going to get them back for this.”

Angel laughed at that. “In the 6 years we’ve been doing prank wars you never paired up with me once.”

As you opened your mouth to answer you were hit immediately with a splash of water on your face. Quickly grabbing Angel’s hand you were up and running out of the club house. It was then that you realized Bishop and a few of the other guys were yelling at Coco and Gilly to knock it off but you kept a one track mind and just pulled Angel out to the yard with you.

You kept moving until you were well into the scrapyard and you knew Coco and Gilly were probably being ripped a new one by Bishop so there wasn’t a chance they’d be able to get you out here.

“Holy shit.” You laughed and looked up at Angel who was soaked from head to toe. “You’re drenched.”

“Looks like we match.” Angel pointed to you with the hand that wasn’t still intertwined with yours.

Your eyes looked down to see the water dripping off the hem of your work shirt and pooling to your feet in the sand/dirt medley on the scrapyard ground.

“C’mon. We got some extra work shirts laying around, let’s get you one so you don’t have to ride home soaked.”

“Your home.” You corrected him. His head snapped to you. “Think I might take you up on that offer.”

Angel didn’t want to change your mind so he just nodded while saying nothing except that he’d get a key made for you.

____

You ran a towel over your hair and were now changed into something dry for the most part as you got into your car. Your driver side window rolled down as Angel stood a few yards from you a lot less drenched than before but still sporting wet hair, his normal styled hair was sobbing wet and falling around his forehead. Gilly and Coco were on the porch of the clubhouse and you offered them both a smile and middle finger before starting to back up.

“Thanks for fixing my car!” You went to beep the horn as a thanks when you heard the flag raise sound from the Cuphead game leave your horn. The high pitch glissando of someone sliding across the keys and the announcement of cuphead filling the air.

Your jaw dropped and turned to Angel very slowly. His eyes were wide and he was immediately yelling out to you.

“I thought I changed everything back!”

You continued to back out and as you put the car in drive you said one last thing to Angel before leaving.

“Oh it’s on, Reyes.”

#Angel Reyes #Mayans MC #MayansMC #Mayans FX #Mayans MC Fanfic #Mayans MC Fanfiction #Mayans #Angel Reyes x Reader #angel reyes x female reader

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swaghumanoidnickelhero · 1 year

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Taza Romero x daughter reader

Your in the temple hanging out when you get a call

Yn hello

Antonia hi em do you think you could come to my house and babysit

Yn of course Tia I be in my way shortly

Antonia gracias nina

You go to your tio and tell him

Yn Hola tio I'm going to go babysit so I will see you all later

Bishop oh alright princess

Yn can you let my dad so he doesn't freak please

Bishop yeah princess

Yn gracias tio

You head out of the temple and get in your car to go

The gate opens and you head over there

You knock on the door

Antonia hi sweetie thank you so much for coming

Yn of course Tia

Antonia shows you all of the things

Yn awesome tia

Antonia I show be home around 6

Yn perfect hasta luego

Antonia adios Nina

You babysit for a few hours

Baby coos

Yn who's so adorable

Baby coos more

Yn thats right

Antonia comes in after a long day

Yn your baby is so well behaved

Antonia I'm glad 😊

Yn I see you later Tia

Antonia here hands 50 dollars

Yn Tia ty

Antonia no worries

You head back to temple and park your car

There's a party going on as per usually

Your dad spots you and your run up to him

Yn Hola papa

Taza hi princess how was your day

Yn muy bein

Taza bein

Yn what's wrong

Taza nada princess

Yn you sure

Taza I'm sure

Yn k I'm going to go get a drink

Taza gives u a look

Yn papa I'm old enough

Taza I know go enjoy

You go to get a drink when you spot your best friend

His names is angel reyes

Yn Hola

Angel Hola quierda what's up

Yn nothing much the party kinda of overwhelming

Angel let's go outside so you get fresh air

Yn thx

You both head up and drink your beers together

Your dad notices you and angel and heads near you too

Taza angel

Angel yes sir

Taza stay away from my daughter

Yn papa wre friends were just enjoying our company

Taza no

Angel yes sir

Angel bye quierda

Yn bye angelito

Yn really papa

Taza what

Yn everytime I'm so tired of you acting like this. Were just hanging out nothing was going on

Taza your my little princess okay

Yn no I'm going to bed

Taza sweetheart

Yn no

To be con

#mayans mc x reader

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bucksangel · 3 years

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It’s About the Acceptance

Pairing: bi!Taza Romero x bi!Reader (Reader is described to have breasts, but no gender/pronouns are mentioned, and no description of race or body type is mentioned(please let me know if i missed anything))

Summary: “Pain is different for everybody, but I understand how hard this can be, how hard it is to lose someone over things outside of your control. But I’m here with you, until the end of time, mi sol. You’re who you are for a reason, and I love every bit of who you are.”

Word Count: 2k

Gif made by me

Warnings: angst, talks of homophobia, but taza comes to the rescue being very soft and encouraging, lots of emotions, lots of love

Tip Jar

tag list: @melaniecraig80 @est1887 @iamthegraham

Posting new fics over on @michaelirby

Once again, Santo Padre delivers another heat wave, the sun above shining down and scorching its people. The little wind that does pass through just picks up dirt and sand, making it difficult to breathe without coughing. Luckily, you’re not outside - anymore. Spending your off day tending to the ranch had you working up a sweat and bordering on heat exhaustion. Now that you’re finally inside, you’re peeling off the sports bra you’ve come to regret putting on this morning, and switching your jean shorts for looser, more comfortable ones. However, just because you’re inside doesn’t mean you don’t still have things to do.

You’ve decided just that morning that you were going to reorganize the various bookshelves around the house. What with the spotty wi-fi and an older-than-most TV, it gives you something to entertain yourself until Taza gets home. The two bookshelves in your bedroom were easy, it was mostly dusting and rearranging the few pictures, memento’s, and a collection of children’s books your mother had since she was a child that she passed down to you (despite most of them having the binding broken and a missing page or two, you insist on keeping them for the memories).

It’s while you’re in the process of sorting through the shelves in the living room that you see a photo album (a scrapbook is more accurate) you had made a few years ago. To be totally honest, you’d forgotten about it. It blends in with the other books so well that it’s hard to recognize it at first glance. You’re filled with a rush of happiness as you run your fingers over the cover, the memories in this album were the best of the best, things you wouldn’t have changed for the world. You decide then that the assortment of items scattered across the floor can wait to be put back in their places.

Sitting comfortably on the couch, your legs are folded underneath you and the book lays on the cushions. Thumbing idly through the pages, you smile at some of the pictures and laugh at others, your heart expanding at every memory that comes flooding back. You’re only about ten pages in when you hear footsteps making their way down the hall. Mildly alarmed, you spin your head around and jump slightly. Taza’s presence nearly right behind you had startled you, but you’re thankful it was him and not an intruder.

“What is all this, mi alma?” He nods his head towards the mess on the floor and then the empty bookshelves, and you giggle.

“I’m organizing, obviously,” You smile up at him, and it widens when he shakes his head.

“Well, you seem to have gotten distracted then,” Taza chuckles softly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head so he can lean down and place a gentle kiss on your forehead. “What are you looking at?” Again, he nods to the book next to you.

“Oh!” You gasp, turning back to it and lifting it so your Old Man can see the pages. “I made this scrapbook when I was twenty, it holds some of my favorite memories.” Glancing down towards the album, your smile softens. A picture of you at twelve years old reading to your baby cousins fills your body with joy.

Taza smiles down at you, he’s always happy as long as you are. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asks, he’s never looked through the book, the occasion just hasn’t come up, but he’s more than happy to look back on your childhood and teen years with you.

“Sure,” You say, voice soft as you look up at him with a glimmer in your eyes. Taza moves around the couch to sit next to you and you place the book on your thighs so he can see.

You’ve talked to Taza about your friends growing up, and now that he’s able to put faces to the names, he somehow understands those stories and anecdotes a little better now. Thirty pages into the book and there’s a collage of pictures of you and your best friend Megan. You’re both about fourteen in the photos, the clothes you’re wearing and the odd poses make that very clear.

You’re barely able to register the pictures when Taza asks, “Who is that?” You can tell he’s curious, and as you turn to look at him, your throat closes, mouth impossibly dry. You know you can trust him, you trust him with your life, and, logically, you know he would never judge you. That doesn’t mean that telling someone for the first time that you’re not straight isn’t a little scary. But, you suck it up and figure that this is as good a time as any.

“She..” You voice trails off, and you look back down at the photos with a sad smile. “She was my best friend, ever since we were twelve we were inseparable and insufferable.” Chuckling softly, the page gets turned and another picture of you and Megan, this time in the matching outfits you wore on your first day of high school, sits in the middle.

It’s his sixth sense, Taza can quickly pick up on your mood changes, and your mood seems to have changed drastically. So, he decides to try and lighten your spirits with his next comment, “You definitely look like you got into some trouble.” He smiles when he’s able to pull a laugh from you.

“Oh, definitely. But everyone around us was just jealous of the fun we were having, I’m sure of it.” Your smile widens a little and you look back up to Taza, who’s already looking at you. And you know what he’s about to ask, so you decide to beat him to the punch. “I know I haven’t talked to you about her, it’s a little bit of a… sore topic.” Smiling weakly at him, you glance down to where his hand envelops one of yours.

Breathing deeply, your eyes meet his again, and the absolute love and care he has for you causes a twinkle in his eyes. It’s a beautiful sight, truly. His hand squeezes yours, and you think that it’s now or never. “We were friends for what felt like forever, we clicked immediately. There were always sleep overs and we’d go on spring break vacations together with our families. She was my best friend. She was one of the few people I was so sure would be in my life forever. But-” You cough slightly, a weak attempt at covering up the quiver in your voice.

Taza’s hand squeezes yours again, gently encouraging you to continue. “She moved away when we were seventeen, it was a sudden change, neither of us knew it was coming. But, her family found out that I was bisexual. I’d known since I was thirteen that I wasn’t like the other girls at my school, and I’d told Megan all about it. She was the first person I felt comfortable with to share that with.”

Another gently encouraging squeeze and a tear runs down your cheek that your boyfriend is quick to thumb away. “When we were fifteen, she finally felt comfortable enough with herself to come out to me, and I was happy for her. I knew how hard it was to figure out who I truly was and she was there, by my side with me for it. So I was going to be there for her. The only problem was that her parents, they-” You cough again and sniffle, your eyes never faltering from Taza’s gaze. “Her parents weren’t the most understanding nor loving people. To this day I don’t know how they found out but, when we were sixteen, they got word that I wasn’t straight and they forbade Megan from speaking to me ever again.”

Your man places a soft kiss to your forehead, and you find the courage to continue with the story. “Of course, we still hung out, we just had to be careful about anyone seeing us and it getting back to her parents. But when we were seventeen, they found out Megan was gay. It wasn’t pretty, Megan wouldn’t even tell me the extent of the blow out they had, all she would tell me was that they blamed me. They said that my queerness ‘tainted’ her, it was my fault that their daughter wasn’t as ‘perfect’ as she should have been.”

Sniffling again, your voice shakes a little, “The last time I saw her was the night of their fight, she came to my house, sobbing. She didn’t know what she was going to do, if her parents would kick her out, disown her, or worse. I remember how I hugged her the tightest I’d ever hugged anyone. I remember how she cried into my shoulder, and how I tried and tried to calm her down, to comfort her. But then..” Taza kisses your forehead again, and you lean your head into his to envelop yourself into his warmth.

“I didn’t hear from her again. I found out a week later that she had moved to another state, but no one would tell me where. Her parents changed her number, put her in a strict private school and then shipped her off to a Catholic University, they uprooted her entire life because they saw me as the person that ruined their family, their child.” You sigh, you feel almost freer, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders ever so slightly. “So, I haven’t talked to her since. I don’t know where she is, if she’s okay, if she’s happy. She was my best friend, she was the first person to truly accept me and love me for who I was, and I can’t shake the feeling that I did ruin her life. If only I wasn’t gay, if only they hadn’t found out, if only we listened when her parents told her not to talk to me.”

Face smushed into Taza’s, you let out a shaky breath and squeeze his hand to let him know that you’re finished, that you’ve released all the emotions that you’re willing to let go of today. Your man rests his chin atop your head, tears of his own falling down his cheeks because he knows, he knows how it feels to lose someone you love just because you’re a little different.

It’s silent for several minutes, both of your bodies entangled with the scrapbook pushed to the side, one of Taza’s hand clutches yours while his other rubs your back in soothing circles. You’ve calmed down drastically, your entire soul is bared to this man, your entire, true self, and you’re happy for it. Your man lets out a deep sigh before he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and then he’s speaking with a calm, reassuring tone. “The first man I’ve ever truly loved was taken from me too. Somewhat similar to yours, but he ended up dead, killed because of who and how he loved.”

You tilt your head back so you’re looking at Taza, and muster up a smile, one of understanding, one of encouragement. A kiss is placed to his forehead this time and it pulls a quiet laugh from his chest. “Pain is different for everybody, but I understand how hard this can be, how hard it is to lose someone over things outside of your control. But I’m here with you, until the end of time, mi sol. You’re who you are for a reason, and I love every bit of who you are.”

Both yours and Taza’s cheeks are wet. You’ve stopped crying, leaving your eyes a light shade of red and your faces a little warm. Everything is quiet in the house except for your breathing, a sense of calm and love surrounds you both. Everything feels right in the world, for once you’re able to give all of yourself to someone, it’s freeing. “I love you too, Taza. Every bit of you.”

#let me know what yall think!!#mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #taza romero #che 'taza' romero #che romero #taza romero fluff #taza romero imagine #my writing #taza romero smut #taza romero x reader #taza romero x you

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super-marvel-dc · 3 years

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EZ: Y/N, why in the world would you want to go on a diet?

Riz: Yeah Y/N, You're good looking.

Y/N: Angel, tell them I'm fat.

Angel: You're not fat. You're hot.

Angel: I just told you you were fat so you'd give me your pizza.

Angel, to Taza: Hey fatty! Give me your pizza! *Grabs pizza from Taza* give it!

Taza: *Confused*

#source: boy meets world #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x you #ezekiel reyes x y/n #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x y/n #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #riz ariza #angel reyes #che taza romero #taza romero #incorrect mayans mc #incorrect mayans mc quotes #mayans mc incorrect #mayans mc incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #mayans mc

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

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❛ A LITTLE PIECE OF ME ❜

WORDS: about 600.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ GIF credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

❚❙ CHE ‘TAZA’ ROMERO MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

Midnight has come, as you lay down tucking in bed after a long warm shower, to destress your body because of the hard day you have been through. The minute that a sleepy Taza feels the mattress sinking close to him, his two lazy arms wrap you back to his chest, sticking your back to it. One arm around your neck and another around your waist. It’s not the first time you arrive at the ranch at this point of the night, but it is to find him already sleeping. Usually, you sleep at his house when he comes back from a run with his motorcycle club; you have been dating now for the last six months, so you haven’t talked yet about living together, but there’s a deal for after-runs.

Burying his nose on the side of your neck, Taza takes a deep breath of your scent, until being interrupted by the cold touch of a piece of jewelry he doesn’t remember. Licking his bottom lip with curiosity, in the meantime that he sits upon his forearm, the apache focuses his eyes on your ear. The moonlight barely illuminates his room, but it’s enough for him to see the small silver eagle feather hanging from your ear.

You can’t help but smile, keeping your eyes closed, knowing what your boyfriend is looking at. Imagining the gesture on his face. Although you were waiting for a word, his response comes with a kiss on it. The softest one.

Lying down again, Taza holds you tightly between his bare tattooed arms, stretching you with all his strength just for a second. He has a lot of mixed sensations jumping inside his chest right now.

“I like it”. He affirms, using a low tone of voice onto your ear. “It’s like if you carry a little piece of me everywhere”.

“I know”. You confess then, turning your body around under his grip, till facing him. “That’s why I bought it”.

A fleeting smile appears in the right corner of his mouth, before resting his head over the pillow, almost touching your nose with his. The hand on the back of your neck, slowly caressing your skin gives you some shivers, closing again your eyes as he does.

“I’ve been… all my life trying to survive, and I thought I’d never...” Clearing his throat for a second, his arms push you closer until finishing with the minimal distance between the two of you. “I thought I’d never love someone as I love you. The wait was worth it”.

Without Taza expecting it, you tangled your fingers on his hair to lean a little and catch his lips with yours. If your heart is beating right now is just because of him. Because of his words. Gently pecking his lips, you don’t stop until watching him smiling again.

“You’re my favorite person ever, that’s for sure”.

“Oh, really?” He scoffs, seeing you nod pursing your lips. “And, do you love me?”

“Hm… A little”. You whisper then, making a gesture with your forefinger and your thumb.

The mexican laughs lively, being aware of the good liar you are sometimes. Sometimes like these.

“But I love you a little more every day”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #che taza romero x reader #che taza romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero #taza romero imagine

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broiderie · 3 years

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Well. I got part of the fic written. Figured I'd post what I've got an see if anyone besides me thinks it's worth continuing.

Please don't copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere else. My mind is deranged enough without adding anyone else into it.

Also, I have no idea how to format. I'm posting and writing on my phone so it's unedited and definitely unbeta'd. I also haven't written fanfic in 10+ years so heed the warning that it may suck.

Thanks @drabbles-mc for encouragement and letting me bounce plot points off you. I may actually have an idea where this is going now.

Warnings: swear words, talk of death and drug use (if I missed anything let me know.)

This is currently a Taza x daughter!OC

Lost Princessa

Taza sighed with relief as he stepped into the casino with his brothers. They had a big meeting with the Chinese in a little while, but in the meantime they could rest and gather their wits. The younger brothers split off to do their own thing. They were headed for the tables with strict instructions to keep Coco contained.

Bishop and Hank turned to follow El Padrino to the bar when Adam, one of the tribal elders stopped Taza.

“Che, someone showed up here looking for you a few days ago. She asked for you by name, brother. Said she's family.”

Bishop frowned at him. “Taza – thought you didn’t have family, hermano.”

“I don’t.” He turned to Adam. “Who is she?”

“Says she’s your kid.”

Taza's eyebrows shot up. “I don’t have a kid.”

Taza wasn’t a stranger to women throughout his years with MCs, but no one had ever informed him they were pregnant or claimed a child was his before. “How old is she?” If she was young, he would almost bet it was a ruse.

Adam opened the pad folio and pulled out a photo copy of an ID. The name on it was Megan Morales. It listed her age as 26 and her address as somewhere in Tennessee.

“I’ve never even been to Tennessee.”

“Well, brother, it's your name on her California birth certificate. We checked – it’s legit.” Adam pulled another photo copy from his folder.

Bishop waved Hank and Marcus off to send them on to the bar where they could keep an eye on the younger members of the club. “Who's her mother?”

“Birth certificate lists a Gabriella Morales.”

Taza stopped cold. “Gabriella? Are you sure?”

“See for yourself-" Adam handed Taza a copy of the girl's birth certificate.

Bishop studied his brother’s face. “Do you recognize the name, brother?”

“Yeah. She was a hang around when I was VM. She left before I did though. Just disappeared. Guess I know where she went now.” He turned back to the tribal elder. “Where is this girl?”

“We called her in this morning and put her in a small conference room since we knew you’d be in today. Conference room 12, when you’re ready.”

Taza took a deep breath and nodded before turning to Bishop. Bishop spoke first. “What do you wanna do, brother?”

“This meeting is too important for my personal shit to screw us up. I'll deal with this after our meeting.”

Bishop nodded. “Let’s get a drink. I think you need it.”

Meanwhile in a conference room halls away, Megan sat playing with a cold bottle of water. She’d come to the casino as a last ditch effort to escape her past and hopefully find the man who was supposed to be her father. The frayed sleeve of her flannel soaked up the condensation as she picked at the label causing her to shiver.

Tribal elders had told her that Mr. Romero should arrive at some point today when they called. They’d asked to make copies of her ID and the birth certificate that she'd found among her birth mother's papers a week ago. She’d let them make the copies and then been escorted to this bland room “to wait".

So she waited. And waited. And paced. And waited. And paced some more. They’d brought her a sandwich and chips at lunch that she’d picked at but nerves and exhaustion had her stomach in knots so most of the food remained on the table in front of her.

Hours passed. She had long since stopped pacing and did her best to concentrate on what she’d say the first time she met Taza. She removed the letter that she’d found with the damning paperwork and read it again. So much of it was rambling from her mother’s untreated mental illness, but enough could be deciphered to explain her mother’s strange position. According to the letter, her birth mother had never intended for Megan to know who her father was – but had provided the information for the birth certificate in the chance that Megan could use the tribal connection later for benefits. If all else failed, it would be revealed after her mother’s death allowing Megan to make her own choice about finding her father.

The letter was dated days after Megan’s third birthday.

A knock sounded on the conference room door startling her. A member of the casino security team poked his head in. “Ms. Morales?”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Romero just arrived for his scheduled meeting. He’ll be here as soon as it’s over to meet with you. He sends his apologies, but his meeting can’t be postponed.”

Megan nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Do you need anything ma’am?”

“No. Thank you.”

He nodded and shut the door quietly.

Megan took a deep breath and tried to settle her heart rate. She’d meet him soon.

The meeting with the Chinese went exactly as planned- assassination and all. After finishing the celebratory drink with his brothers Taza sighed. His rings caught in his hair as he ran his hands through it. “Bish- I gotta go handle this shit.”

“I know, brother. You want back-up?”

Taza thought- physically he shouldn’t need back up and if he did casino security were all there. Mentally- having his brothers- his best friends- at his back may not be a bad idea. It also would reveal more of his past than he really wanted the younger contingent to know about him yet. “Wouldn’t mind a cool head or two to help me figure this out.”

Bishop nodded. “I’ll send the Idiots for food. Padrino too.” He looked at Hank. “You good to stick with us?”

“Course. Riz and Creep can babysit.”

Bishop and Taza nodded and poured another stiff drink while Hank went to give out orders. Ten minutes later Bishop, Taza, and Hank were headed to the conference room holding a key part of Taza’s past.

The conference room had a glass door and Taza paused to get a look at the girl claiming to be his daughter. Her dark hair was braided nearly to her waist. Her face wasn’t visible. Her hands blocked his view. Her slumped shoulders were covered by a green flannel shirt that had seen better days. Stained jeans with hole in the knee nearest the door were cuffed- obviously too long- above worn leather boots. She’d clearly been through the wringer.

He glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Hank and Bishop gave encouraging nods. They’d follow his lead.

Megan startled again as the door opened. She’d zoned out. Too mentally exhausted to think any more. She jumped to her feet knocking the now warm bottle of water to the floor.

She faced three men in leather kuttes. It was obvious that two of them were there as support. The one with the longest hair had tribal jewelry and was the most likely candidate to be Mr. Che Romero. He spoke first.

“Ms. Morales?”

“Yes. Megan – please.”

“I was told you wanted to see me. I’m Taza – Che Romero. These are my brothers- Bishop and Hank.”

Megan nodded nervously. “Yes sir. Can we sit?”

Bishop smiled, “Of course.”

Whether consciously or not – the three men took up positions at the long conference table as if they were back home in Templo. Megan settler herself back in her chair facing them.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be a shock for you. Hell, it was a shock for me. I’m sure the elders showed you the copies.of my papers. I have the originals here. They were in with Gabriella’s will. I only received them last week.” Megan’s leg jittered subtly shaking the table.

Taza lifted his chin from his steeples fingers. “Her will? Gabby's dead?”

“Shit. I should have led with that. Yeah. Gabriella died over two weeks ago. It took the state a bit to track me down.”

“Woah, sweetheart. Deep breath. Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Bishop asked firmly. He could see the nerves rolling off the girl. She was practically vibrating with tension.

She took a quick sip of water and nodded quickly. After a visible deep breath, her shaking hands settled a little.

“Right. My name is Megan Morales. I grew up in foster care is Tennessee. My birth mother is Gabriella Morales. I haven’t seen or heard from her since my third birthday. She was reported as rambling in the supermarket and was taken into custody for evaluation. Two days later, someone realized she had a kid and came to the apartment to find me.” She adjusted in her chair and glanced at the terrifying trio at the other end of the table. “Apparently her lifestyle recently caught up with her. She was found dead in her apartment by the apartment manager. Track marks everywhere. OD'd. She had a will and papers at her bank. The state liquidated any assets she had to pay for the burial costs, but tracked me down to give me the papers.”

She reached under the table producing a battered black leather backpack. Reaching inside, she pulled a Manila envelope out and passed it down the table to Taza. Then she laid a single piece of lined paper that had been folded over and over on top of it. “That’s all that’s left of her now.”

Taza looked in the envelope first. It looked like a bunch of legal paperwork. He passed it to his brothers to investigate while he looked at the letter.

It was dated 23 years before and addressed to ‘my precious daughter’. He skimmed it quickly. Apparently Gabriella never intended to tell anyone who the father of her child was. She didn’t want Megan associated with “his lifestyle”. She only put his name on the birth certificate for medical and legal purposes. She outlined who he was in the letter. That he rode with the VM and had connections with the tribal casino.

“You tracked me down to VM?” Taza asked alarmed. The idea of his child alone in their territory was terrifying.

Megan shook her head vehemently. “Fuck no!” Hank snorted his laugh at her outburst. “Sorry.” She looked sheepish. “I figured I’d try the tribe first. I don’t have a passport or the money to make it all the way to Mexico.”

“So you flew here from Tennessee?” Bishop asked.

“Not exactly. I hitched most of the way.”

“Not the safest way to travel, sweetheart.” Bishop leaned back in his chair and tapped the envelope now laying on the table. “Birth record, paternity test results against your military record… hell even sonogram photos. Your girl wasn’t fucking around, Taza.”

Hank spoke up for the first time. “She wanted her kid to have her birth right. Makes sense.” He smiled at Megan. “But why now? Why not wait to make contact before coming out here? Or why not just accept it and move on?”

Megan’s knee started jitterbug up and down again and she started playing with her fingers. “Why not? Not like there’s much waiting for me in Tennessee. Figured a new start wasn’t the worst idea. Might even find family, ya know.”

All three bikers nodded slowly. Taza gave her a tight smile. “You’re right. This is a surprise, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. We’re going to step out for a minute. Discuss this. We’ll be back.”

Megan nodded and pulled at the threads on her sleeve cuffs. Hank and Bishop stood and walked to the door. Taza followed pausing to awkwardly pat her shoulder.

Out in the hallway, Bishop and Hank looked to Taza. “What do you wanna do, hermano?”

Taza pushed his hair back again. “You looked at the paperwork. Was it legit?”

Hank nodded. “Either legit or very expensive forgeries. From the look of her- I’d say legit. Besides, brother… she looks like you.”

Bishop cracked a grin. “Nah- she’s much prettier.”

Taza cracked a smile and shoved at El presidente’s shoulder roughly. Bish chuckled and gently shoved back. “You wanna bring her home? San Pad?

Taza breathed deep. “Shit. Yeah. At least for a few days while we figure shit out. She may not wanna stick around.”

Bishop nodded. “Go. Make the plans with her. We’ll go make sure that the Village Idiots order her some food too. Looks like she could use it.”

#taza x daughter!OC #lost princessa #mayans fanfic #mayans imagine #che taza romero #mayans mc fanfic

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

Text

The Beauty of the End Part Two: Reckless Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader (feat Taza & Creeper)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life, @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @vannabanana1995 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @sxmmarie @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @librarian1002

It’s Creeper that notices the change, he’s the only one that stays sober during nights at the club house so he’s always the most perceptive. He notices that Riz sticks around for longer, that he spends most of his time drinking and getting high, that he hasn’t laid a hand on his guitar since he returned from Nashville, that he’s paying a little more attention to the girls at the bar. He hasn’t talked about you in weeks, and every time your name comes up he pretends he hasn’t heard it.

It comes to a head during Poker Night at Vicki’s. They’ve been to a thousand and one of these events, they’re a way of blowing off steam after a tough run. Some of the guys take a girl upstairs, others drink, do a little pot, Creeper just likes to play the game because while everyone else is distracted, drunk or high, he cleans up big.

When Riz pulls a girl into his lap he’s taken aback, he can tell the other guys are too. He hasn’t so much as looked at another woman since he’s been with you and now he’s whispering in a whore’s ear as she plays with his hair. When he takes her upstairs to bed, they’re all too fucking shocked to say anything. Creeper raises his eyes to the ceiling when the distinctive noise of the headboard slamming against the wall in the room above breaks through the silence.

“What the fuck is that about?” Taza asks him as he sets his cards face down on the table.

Creeper shakes his head.

“He hasn’t been the same since Nashville.”

*************************************************************

When he’s done fucking the whore, Riz tells her to leave. He waits until she slips out of the door, still barely dressed before he climbs out of the bed and lights a cigarette from the pack he keeps on the dresser. He lingers by the window, staring out into the darkness, trying to ignore the state of his reflection in the glass.

He looks like hell. His eyes are glassy from the whiskey and the weed, there’s dark circles underneath them, highlighting the bender he’s been on over the past couple of days because despite the fact he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to speak to you, you’re still calling. Each and every time he’s seen your name pop up on his screen, it's like a fucking knife in his chest, so he blocks you.

Somehow that makes it worse.

He sits down on the bed, taking a drag before he blows out a smoke ring and watches it evaporate into the air. The sex didn’t do anything to quench the anguish in his chest. He wonders how many will be enough, how many women will it take before he forgets you?

**********************************************************************

Riz was a ladies’ man before he met you and in the ruins of your relationship, he takes up the mantle again. He fucks his way through Santo Padre, Stockton and Bakersfield, it doesn’t matter when, where or who. He gets the shit kicked out of him on the reservation for fucking a Blackjack player’s girlfriend in the bathroom. He simply laughs in the other man’s face, telling him he should be keeping his girl more satisfied. Both Taza and Creeper have to pull the other guy off him, because Riz gives up fighting after the second punch. His face is a mask of blood and he’s still smiling, he looks fucking crazed.

It’s Taza that approaches him in the end.

Riz is lying on his bike outside a rest stop, staring up at the sky and puffing on a joint. He watches the clouds pass overhead as he inhales, holding the smoke in his lungs for as long as possible before releasing it. Taza kicks the base of his boot, jerking him back to reality. The bruising on his face is starting to come out, a blossom of pink, purple and green all fading into the natural hue of his skin.

“You’re gonna need to get yourself tested, the way your chasing tail.” Taza comments, plucking the joint out of Riz’s mouth before tossing it on the ground and crushing it beneath the heel of his boot.

“I always glove.” Riz informs him, before sitting up so that he’s straddling his bike.

“What the fuck is doing on with you?” Taza snaps at him. “You’re a fucking mess. You’re not even going home anymore; you just sleep at Vicki’s and fuck anything that moves.”

Riz simply shrugs. He hasn’t been forthcoming with any of the details and Taza finds it frustrating because the Riz he knows, the one he’s been friends with since the very beginning, has always been an open book. He doesn’t know this man. This stranger hell bent on self-destruction.

“You don’t have to be a shrink to see that you’re trying to fill that hole in your heart.” Taza tells him, throwing his leg over his own bike and pulling on his helmet. “I don’t know what happened, but you need to get your shit together real quick, because I’m not sure how much longer Bishop is gonna let this go.”

Riz says nothing, instead he pulls out his sunglasses from the top pocket of his kutte and pulls them on over his red rimmed eyes.

“You’re banned from Vicki’s by the way.” Taza informs him as he adjusts the strap under his chin. Riz’s head snaps up towards the older man and Taza gives him a look. “Until you get your head on straight, you’re not to go back here.”

“Is that an order from my V.P?” Riz asks him, his gaze straying to patch on the other man’s kutte.

“Do you need it to be?” Taza asserts with an even stare.

Riz shakes his head before hitting the kick pedal of his bike with his foot and pulling off into the road. He isn’t wearing his helmet and that scares the shit out of Taza, he watches as the other man disappears into the distance, his hair streaming into the wind behind him. Taza knows a thing or two about hating yourself and he thinks that’s what he’s seeing when he looks at the other man, a chasm of self-loathing so deep that nothing will ever be able to fill it.

“That looks like it went real well.” Creeper says from beside him as he sips from a take away cup of coffee.

“As well as it could.” Taza says with a sigh as he shakes his head. “This can’t go on much longer, he’s going to get himself killed.”

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

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#che taza romero #taza romero #taza #neron vargas #creeper vargas #neron creeper vargas #michael riz ariza #riz x you #riz mayans #riz x reader #riz ariza #michael ariza x reader #michael ariza

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drabbles-mc · 8 months

Text

Degrees of Separation (3)

Taza Romero x M!Reader

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

Chapter Index

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking

Word Count: 2.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank god.” You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this?”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn’t think to warn me?”

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

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

Taza shook his head. “No risk.”

“No?”

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

“If I did?”

“We had plans in place for that too.”

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

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

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

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

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myckicade · 2 years

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COMING SOON - Mayans M.C. Inspired Home Fragrance Collection

Bring home a fragrance inspired by your favourite Mayan. The first release will feature three club members:

Bishop Taza Angel

Don't see your man? Don't worry. Another group of three will be in the second release.

Each fragrance will be available as 2.7 oz. wax melts, 8 oz. candles, and 2 oz. fragrance mists. Please note, due to international regulations, fragrance mists will only be available in the United States.

Pre-orders will be open through Etsy on Friday, May 13th, 2022, at 12:00 pm EST. Orders will ship within one to three weeks.

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crowfootwrites · 3 years

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The Boyfriend | Part III [Taza Romero x Fem!Reader]

Soooo, I know I said this was going to be the last part, but I'm nothing if not a wordy bitch. So there will actually be one final part after this, which will offer more explanation and serve to wrap things up.

Warnings: angst; family drama; pregnancy & pregnancy complications; depictions of pain; emergency medical personnel and hospitals; language | Words: 1,243

Part I of The Boyfriend | Part II of The Boyfriend

Taglist: @chibsytelford

The soft morning breeze caressed your cheeks as you sat in the old rocking chair on the porch, your cup of tea resting steadily on your swollen belly. You gazed out over the quiet ranch, Taza’s horses grazing contentedly in the distance, trees bursting with birdsong as the sun started its slow climb over the horizon. Your due date was just a couple weeks out, and you couldn’t wait to have your baby in your arms.

A soft tapping drew you out of your reverie and you glanced over your shoulder to see Taza pushing off the door frame with a tender smile, coming to sit in the chair beside you. He was wrapped in a flannel robe, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Qué estás pensando (What are you thinking)?” he asked quietly, interlacing his fingers with yours on the arm of your chair.

You smiled dreamily. “Just ready to meet them.”

Taza grinned, nodding his agreement. “Any day now.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching as the sun brightened the sky and the world stretched to life.

You felt the shift in Taza’s demeanor before he even opened his mouth, his hand twitching almost imperceptibly in your grasp.

“Have you given any more thought to your dad’s message?”

You heaved a considerable sigh, jostling the teacup on your belly. Your father had sent you a text message the week prior, apologizing for your mother’s “inexcusable” behavior at dinner, and asking how he could make things right. Your father was a good man. You knew he wanted to fix things, that he ultimately wanted to be involved in his grandchild’s life. But it irked you that the apologies were coming from the wrong person. There had been nothing but radio silence from your mother. And while you had never been particularly close to your parents, and your relationship with your mother was obviously flawed, the process of becoming a mother yourself had you overanalyzing your entire personal history.

You had tried, over and over again, to understand your mother’s perspective. But ultimately, you had reasoned that perhaps the two of you just had diametrically opposed values. You had hoped that your mother would have the opportunity, over the course of your pregnancy, to see how wonderful Taza was, how loving and stable. How much you loved each other, and how ready you both were to welcome a child into the world. That his age didn’t matter, and neither did the lack of a marriage certificate. And most of all, that those things were your decision to make and that she should trust you enough to make good choices for yourself. But after your mother’s most recent blow-up, you were done. You had come to understand that she was never going to see things that way.

Then came your father’s text. You could tell it hurt him to be so disconnected from you, and you hated to be even part of the reason for his unhappiness. At the time, you had responded asking for time to think about things. But you were honestly no closer to a solution than you had been then.

“I met with him.”

You whipped your head around to frown at your boyfriend and he rushed to explain.

“He texted me, mi amor, and I felt bad. I couldn’t imagine if we had a daughter and I wasn’t welcome around her.”

“He is welcome,” you snapped. Taza gazed at you skeptically.

“You and I both know your mother would give him hell if he came here to see you,” he reminded you.

Your jaw clenched impulsively. “Sounds like a personal problem,” you ground out, although you knew Taza was right. You wouldn’t want you put your father through that. You heard Taza’s mild sigh beside you and echoed it with one of your own.

“I just don’t know what to do,” you grumbled. “I don’t know how to fix it. And I also don’t think it should be on me to fix it. She’s the one with a problem.”

Taza chuckled and patted your hand. “Let’s hope this baby doesn’t wind up with your stubborn streak or the two of you will put me in an early grave.”

“Oh, you think I’m the one with the problem?” you demanded. You were nothing if not relentless.

“No, amor,” Taza replied, backpedaling. “I think both of you have things you need to work out with each other. Besides, it’s been a couple of months. Maybe she’s come around?”

***

You should have never agreed to him going on a run this close to your due date. It was only for the day, but as your luck would have it, he had been gone no more than an hour when you felt the rush of water between your legs. And it was in that moment that you knew something was very wrong. Sharp pains tore across your lower belly like white hot fire. You cried out, clutching at the kitchen countertop, trying to keep your legs under you. Panicked tears sprang to your eyes as your mind reeled.

You snatched your phone off the counter, doubled-over in agony. With trembling hands, you hit Taza’s speed dial button. He answered as your belly spasmed and you cried out again.

“Something’s wrong,” you whimpered, your teeth clenched together against the pain. Tears tumbled over your cheeks.

“Fuck!” Taza growled, and you heard him shouting something away from the phone. Your knees buckled and you found yourself on your hands and knees on the floor. You set the phone beside you, hitting the speaker button in a panic. Your breath was coming in shallow bursts and a small ache was blooming in your chest. Your thoughts spun chaotically and you couldn’t seem to grab on to just one. You could hear Taza through the phone, talking to you again, and you honed in on the familiar sound.

“Baby, I’m turning around but I’m an hour away. You need to call an ambulance, ok? Can you do that for me, amor?”

A sob slipped out as you opened your mouth to respond. You clutched at your belly, as though it could soothe the child inside you. The two of you were going to be well and truly alone for this. “Yes,” you cried. “I love you, please hurry.” You ended the call to frantically dial 911.

The arrival of EMTs and the ambulance ride to the hospital were a blur, the hurt dulling your senses to everything that wasn’t the scorching razor edge of pain in your belly. You vaguely remembered answering questions, and one of them taking your phone, talking to Taza reassuringly in the background of your mind. You asked, sheer panic gripping your chest, if your baby was alright. You didn’t get an answer as the EMTs whirled around you, hooking you up to wires and oxygen. Your heart raced, thumping like it would burst out of your chest and you clamped your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breath.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were rushed into an OR, watching the hospital lights flash above your gurney as though you were in a televised medical drama. In the OR, the beeping and piercing alarms of multiple monitors ricocheted in your skull, punctuated by waves of discomfort. You remember someone in scrubs placing a blue plastic breathing mask over your nose and mouth, and then darkness.

Part IV of The Boyfriend

#mayans fx #mayans mc #mayansmc #taza romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans oneshot #che taza romero

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swaghumanoidnickelhero · 1 year

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Taza romero x reader

When you walk into the temple you see your hubby taza and that famous smirk

Taza hi my Vida

Rae hi my love

You snuggle into his chest on the couch

Taza rubs your bump

Taza how's my little princess

You good she been kicking me

Taza well he feels

She gives a soft kick

Taza wow

You yeah I was thinking we can name her after your mom

Taza really amore that would be great

You fall asleep on taza and he carries you to bed where you too sleep peacefully the rest of the night

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bucksangel · 3 years

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im switching blogs!!

i'm going to use this blog as a different blog, so i'll keep all of my current fics here as well as reblog them to the other blog i'm making!

my new url is babiebucky so make sure to follow @michaelirby !

#mayans mc imagine #mayans fx #mayans mc #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x you #hank loza fluff #hank loza smut #hank loza x reader #hank loza imagine #hank loza #taza romero imagine #taza romero fluff #taza romero smut #taza romero x reader #taza romero

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thescriptofsharkboyandlavagirl3d · 2 years

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Che + Joe

Prologue

Che 'Taza' Romero x Original Cis Male Character (Joseph Balik)

Author's Note: I've recently finished binge watching Mayans after originally only seeing the first seasons and losing interest. After watching the story line about David, I fell in love with Taza and was searching for fics with male readers or characters as the love interest but there are none that I could find so I decided to just write one myself.

I don't 100% know what the MC's opinions on queer people are because it's not entirely clear in the show so I'm making my own assumptions. Bishop is evidently not impressed when Che reveals his bisexuality and Isaac stated when talking to Coco that one of the two ways that will get you killed in the club is homosexual behaviour. Bishop's distain is a little muddled due to the fact that it is mixed with his reaction to finding out Che killed Riz so it's not entirely clear how much of the reaction was centred around Che's bisexuality. As well, when in confrontation with the Swole Boys, Angel refers to their bikes as ' homo-cycles', evidently displaying prejudice behaviour, referring to something you don't like as 'gay'. On the other hand, Bishop has never displayed any clear disgust for his ex-wife's queerness as she now is married to a woman after they split. So I'm going with that the Mayans don't outwardly, violently hate queer people and will be amicable with Joe but it is unacceptable within the club as enforced by their rules and members will display various micro-aggressions toward queer characters and queerness in general throughout the story. Some characters in and out of the MC will display more hostility towards queer characters so this is a warning for readers who may be triggered by homophobic ideals, language and actions. If any of you have any ideas or sentiments towards how you view the member's of the MC and their thought on the LGBTQIA+ community, feel free to share them with me.

Given Raoul's age of 63 in 2018, I'm placing Taza at about 60 years old. Joe, who is physically and a little personality wise based on Antoni Porowski, will be be about 41 years old.

Chapters in the future will be explicit but will contain warnings for anyone who may find that uncomfortable.

Warning: N/A currently

Words: 731

Summary: After years of struggle, Joseph Balik opens up a new cafe in the middle of Santo Padre. With the overwhelming presence of the Mayans, Joe is eager to keep out of their way. Plans are quickly altered when Vice Presidente literally crashes into Joe's life, sending both of their lives in to a chaotic spin

It didn’t take long for word of Malino’s to spread through Santo Padre. The town was slight enough to notice any new movement in a years old abandon shop front along the main road. With a breath of fresh air and bright façade in the arid desert environment, Malino’s was quickly overrun with customers eager to evaluate the new establishment.

Opening the café had been in the works for years. Having immigrated from Poland at a young age, Joe was no stranger to the teasing quips and mocking accents of the school yard. It didn’t take long before Joe was shifting the cadence of his speech in the hopes of sounding more akin to the smooth drawl of a regular Californian kid. Soon, everything that made Joe himself, had been replaced with the customs of a new country and the denial of his heritage. It had taken years for Joe to reconcile with the internalised distain for his differences.

It had been early college days at USC when Joe had met people who began to reshape his image of himself. Surrounded with those of unwavering pride in who they were and were they came from, he began to delve deeper into what he had stubbornly tried to push down since childhood. Through the revision of his culture, it had been the food of his homeland that had become the strongest connection in practicing and celebrating himself and where his family came from. This had quickly sparked a deep love for cooking and sharing his food with those he cared for.

This love had only blossomed from there. Soon abandoning previous life goals, Joe had begun to squirrel away any spare coin he could muster in the hopes of saving up enough to establish his own café while continuing his college degree. Despite set back after set back, he had achieved what had once only be a dream, now twenty years passed.

Joe had caught wind of the vacant store front in the southern Californian town of Santo Padre after months on the search. With a price point under budget, the decision to purchase was a no brainer. As a result, the store had been riddled with faults, covered in mould and filth with loose wires and damaged walls, leaving weeks of repairs and restorations. Despite this, Joe’s optimism had yet to falter with years of determination to back him up. With preparations finally at a close, Joe’s dream was coming to fruition in front of his eyes.

Through the first weeks of opening, Joe was hard pressed to find a moment of peace. Between juggling the financial aspects of running a café as well as managing staff and taking place as head baker, he was struggling to find sleep each night before 1 am. As a result, it wasn’t a surprise that Joe had found himself lacking all concentration on the job, discovering himself chest to chest with a man instead of delivering a customer’s apple tart.

Despite his new residence, it hadn’t been difficult for Joe to notice of the loud rumbling that would shake the streets of Santo Padre. The local charter of Mayans weren’t shy in showing off their rides, flashing their vest around town in the sweltering heat of the sun. That being said, Joe had been adamant in avoiding any of the men at all costs. It didn’t take a genius to assume what those men thought about men like him. While it was an assumption of their views on queer people, those assumptions may end up saving his life and Joe wasn’t about to chance that on the principle of giving others the benefit of the doubt and not assuming on their behalf, especially when it came to dangerous men in a motorcycle club.

However, after one look at this man, Joe had almost thrown the sentiment out the window. Their matched height had entitled a clear view of his deep brown eyes with a sight of his strong nose and thick facial hair. The intricate lines detailing his face had almost been entrancing enough for Joseph to forget to be embarrassed by the seconds previous collision and his current response to the Mayan in front of him. With a quick flick at the corner of his mouth, the man had clearly taken note of Joe’s intimidated, flustered reaction.

He was in for it now.

#mayans fx #mayans fandom #mayans imagine #mayans oc #Taza Che Romero #original character #original male character #polish #che romero #queer romance #lgbtq #bisexual #poc fc #taz romero x oc #taza romero x reader #taza che romero x reader #taza che romero x omc #gay love #sons of anarchy

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