ravennaortiz

[ravennaortiz]

I made some up dates to the story list for next year.....and made a big update for next May and decided to drop the current stories to expect list below lol. This list will probably have a few more additions as I look through my wips!

Slated for May 2026- AKA May We Finally Get That Story/Followup? lol

We Are The Godfathers- Coco and Angel finding out they are both the godfather of Gillys kid from The One Universe

Let Them Be- Rewrite- Juice x Reader, Chibs x Reader

The Botanist- Guero x Reader

Bonfire Ritual- Day 5 MDB Followup- Coco x Reader

My Brothers Bestfriend Day 14 MDB Followup- Bottles x Reader Gueros Sister

Cross The Line Day 20 MDB Followup- Coco x Reyes Sister Reader

Bloody Birthday- History to Day 16 MDB Angel x Reader

Playing With Fire- Day 31 MDB followup- Guero- Bishops Daughter

Rose on the bed- Dark Guero x Reader

Monsters and Mayans oh my!- Bishop Fic

You Make Guarding Difficult- Guardian Angel Juice x Reader

Call Us Daddy- Chibs x Juice x Tig Smut

Priest Chibs smut fic

Love Gone Sour part 2 and part 3

Happys Version of Love Gone sour

[ravennaortiz]

I feel this in my soul I say as I pour my 4th cup

sundays are struggle days. which comfy show am i watching? which pyjama should i wear? are snacks a real meal? how much coffee till my heart stops?

[ravennaortiz]

Taglist: @staley83 @kellynickelsgirl00 @mrstelford @samcrosfaith @ravennaortiz @mdonez07 @bluenoon5372 @mayanqueenxx @callmesev @tssweets @im-nada @plaidconvers @zombayyyyy @blackwidownat2814 @lovesammikinzz @bubblegirll26 @mrs-mischief1917 @synysterlucy @crispy-croke @localcoffeeshops-blog @winterklls @kincyn @sa1nt-bambi @sunglitter-moonglade @joyfulfxckery @jehnvhn @louisianalady @unholycheesesnack @mrs-mischief1917 @sa1nt-cait @rey26

---------------------------------------♡--

TW: Canon typical violence, cussing, mentions of grief and death, fluff, so much fluff, Opie is a cuddler.

Part 18

The Long Way Round - Part 19

You moved through the familiar morning routines with a bounce in your step that hadn't been there in days, due to a palpable shift in the atmosphere of the Winston household, humming softly as you prepared breakfast for the children.

"Someone's in a good mood," Opie observed as he entered the kitchen, his voice carrying a teasing quality that sent a flutter of warmth through your chest. The careful distance had been replaced by something more relaxed, more natural, and you could see it in the way he moved around the kitchen—no longer avoiding accidental contact, no longer treating you like fragile glass that might shatter if he got too close.

"It's a beautiful morning," you replied, though you both knew your improved mood had less to do with the weather and more to do with the conversation you'd had in his garage. The reconciliation had lifted a weight you hadn't fully realized you'd been carrying, leaving you feeling lighter and more hopeful than you had since Saturday night's fight.

Kenny and Ellie bounded into the kitchen with their usual morning energy, apparently sensing the improved atmosphere even if they couldn't identify its source. Ellie launched into an elaborate story about a dream she'd had involving flying horses and rainbow bridges, while Kenny listened with the patient attention of someone who'd heard many such tales but still found them entertaining.

"Can we have pancakes for breakfast?" Ellie asked hopefully, interrupting her own story to make her request with the kind of wide-eyed charm that was difficult to resist.

"Pancakes aren't a weekday food Sweetie," you pointed out gently, sliding a bowl of cereal in front of her instead. "How about we save pancakes for the weekend?"

"But I really, really want pancakes," Ellie pressed, employing the persistent negotiation tactics that eight-year-olds had perfected over centuries of dealing with adult authority.

"Tell you what," Opie interjected, moving to stand behind your chair as he addressed his daughter. "If you eat your cereal without complaining, maybe we can convince our favorite chef here to make pancakes for dinner instead."

The casual way he referred to you as 'our favorite chef' sent a warm flush through your system, the possessive pronoun carrying implications that made your pulse quicken. When his hand briefly touched your shoulder as he reached over you to grab his coffee mug, the contact felt deliberate but natural, a small gesture that spoke to the shifting dynamic between you.

"Pancakes for dinner?" Kenny asked, his expression suggesting this was a revolutionary concept that needed careful consideration.

"Why not?" you said, caught up in the playful energy that seemed to be infusing the morning. "Who says pancakes are only for breakfast?"

The children accepted this culinary rebellion with the enthusiasm that came from discovering adults could be flexible about rules they'd thought were set in stone. As they focused on their cereal with renewed interest, you felt Opie's presence behind you, warm and solid and reassuring in a way that made the kitchen feel more like home than it ever had before.

"Pancakes for dinner," he murmured near your ear, his voice pitched low enough that only you could hear. "I like a woman who thinks outside the box."

The comment was innocent enough to fly under the children's radar, but the warmth in his tone and the way his breath tickled your ear made your cheeks flush with a heat that had nothing to do with the stove. This was the playful, flirtatious side of him that you'd glimpsed at the clubhouse, and having it directed at you in the domestic setting of his kitchen felt both thrilling and slightly dangerous.

"I'm full of surprises," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way his proximity was affecting your ability to think clearly.

"I'm counting on it," he said quietly, and something in his tone suggested he wasn't just talking about breakfast foods.

After the children had been dropped off at school and the house had settled into its familiar quiet rhythm, you found yourself struggling to focus on your usual tasks. Opie seemed determined to test the boundaries of your productivity, appearing at your elbow whenever you tried to accomplish anything substantial and finding creative ways to distract you from your work.

You were attempting to sort through the accumulated mail on the kitchen counter when you felt him approach from behind, his presence announced by the subtle scent of his cologne and the warmth that seemed to radiate from his large frame.

"Anything interesting?" he asked, leaning over your shoulder to peer at the stack of bills and advertisements you were organizing.

"Just the usual," you replied, trying to ignore the way his proximity made your hands slightly unsteady. "Electric bill, cable bill, something that looks like a credit card offer..."

His hands came to rest on the counter on either side of you, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel his body heat against your back.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a gentleness that made your heart flutter.

"Uh-huh," you breathed, leaning back slightly against the comforting warmth of his chest.

"Good," he said softly, his hands coming to rest on your waist with a touch that was possessive but gentle. "Because I've been thinking about what we talked about in the garage."

"What about it?" you asked, though your voice came out slightly breathless.

"About taking things slow," he said, his thumbs tracing small circles against your hipbones through the fabric of your shirt. "About building something without rushing."

The touch was innocent enough, but combined with the way his warmth cocooned you combined with his words—like you were something precious, desirable and worth waiting for—it made your pulse race with anticipation.

"And?" you prompted, curious where this line of thought was leading.

"And I realized that slow doesn't have to mean distant," he said, leaning down until his forehead was almost touching your head. "It just means we don't skip shit. It means we take time to enjoy each part of this."

The logic was sound, but it was difficult to focus on his reasoning when his proximity was making it hard to think about anything other than how easy it would be to turn and close the distance between your lips and his.

"Each part of what?" you asked, though you suspected you already knew the answer.

"This," he said simply, gesturing to the space between you with one hand while the other remained firmly planted on your waist. "Learning to be close without pressure."

The words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, and you found yourself leaning slightly into his touch, drawn by the warmth and strength he represented.

"That sounds..." you started, then had to pause to clear your throat when your voice came out more husky than intended. "That sounds like a very reasonable approach."

"I can be reasonable," Opie said, though the heat in his voice suggested that his reasonableness had limits.

"Most of the time," you agreed.

"Most of the time," he confirmed, his smile widening at your teasing tone. "But I'm learning to be more reasonable about the things that matter most."

The implication that you were one of the things that mattered most to him made your chest tight with emotion that went beyond simple attraction. This wasn't just physical chemistry—it was something deeper, more substantial, the kind of connection that had been building slowly over months of shared domesticity and mutual care.

"I've been thinking about doing this since breakfast." he murmured, his chin coming to rest lightly on top of your head.

"Have you now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way his proximity was affecting you.

"Mmm," he hummed, and you could feel the vibration through his chest. "Among other things."

"Other things?" you prompted, though you weren't sure you were ready to hear his answer.

"I've been thinking about how you look when you concentrate," he said, his voice low and warm against your ear. "The little crease you get between your eyebrows when you're trying to figure something out. The way you bite your lip when you're thinking."

"I do not bite my lip when I'm thinking," you protested weakly.

"You're doing it right now," he pointed out, and you realized he was absolutely right.

"I'm supposed to be working," you pointed out, though you made no move to escape his arms.

"You are working," he said reasonably. "You're sorting mail. Very important work."

"I'm supposed to be doing laundry too. And cleaning the bathroom. And vacuuming, and—"

"And all of that will still be there later," he interrupted, his voice carrying a lazy confidence that made your stomach flutter with anticipation. "What's the rush?"

"The rush is that I have a job to do," you said, though your protest sounded weak even to your own ears.

"Your job is to take care of my family," he said, turning you gently in the circle of his arms so you were facing him. "Right now, that includes letting me take care of you."

"That's not quite how it works, Ope" you said, trying to sound stern but failing when he smiled at you like that.

"Isn't it?" he asked, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm the boss here, and I'm just telling you to take a little break."

"You're being ridiculous," you said, though you were fighting a smile.

"I'm being practical," he corrected. "All that work will still be there in an hour. This moment? Might not be."

You shook your head at his logic, but you couldn't deny the warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "You're impossible."

"I'm persistent," he said with a grin. "There's a difference."

"Is there?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Absolutely. Impossible suggests it can't be done. Persistent suggests it just takes patience and the right approach."

"And what exactly are you being persistent about?" you asked, though you suspected you already knew.

"Convincing you that the world won't end if you let yourself enjoy spending time with me instead of worrying about dust bunnies and dirty laundry."

"The dust bunnies and dirty laundry pay my salary," you pointed out.

"I'm much more interested in seeing you happy than I am in seeing you stress yourself out over housework." he said, his voice dropping to a lower register.

You scoffed and gave him a playful shove before heading down the hallway to get to work.

The pattern continued throughout the morning and into the afternoon, with Opie finding increasingly creative ways to interrupt your work and engage you in conversations that had little to do with household management and everything to do with the growing intimacy between you. When you tried to fold laundry, he appeared with questions about dinner plans that somehow turned into discussions about your favorite foods and childhood memories. When you attempted to clean the bathroom, he materialized with offers to help that resulted in more talking and laughing than actual cleaning.

By midday, you'd accomplished approximately half of your usual tasks, but you found yourself caring less about productivity and more about the way Opie's eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his laugh rumbled through his chest, the way he seemed to be savoring every moment of your company as if it were something precious.

"You're terrible for my work ethic," you told him as he successfully distracted you from vacuuming the living room by engaging you in a conversation about your favorite movies, your tone carrying mock exasperation.

"I prefer to think of myself as good for you overall," he replied, settling onto the couch and patting the space beside him with an invitation that was difficult to refuse.

"Well overall doesn't pay the bills," you pointed out, though you found yourself moving toward the couch despite your practical concerns.

"Your bills are my bills," Opie said, reaching out to catch your hand and tug you down beside him. "And I'm not worried about them."

"That's easy for you to say," you said, settling onto the cushions but maintaining a pointed look at the vacuum cleaner standing abandoned in the middle of the room. "You're not the one whose professional reputation depends on keeping this house running smoothly."

"Who exactly is going to fire you for taking a break?" he asked, his arm sliding along the back of the couch behind your shoulders. "Because I'm definitely not complaining about spending time with you."

"You might not be complaining now," you said, leaning back against the cushions but keeping your tone playfully argumentative, "but what happens when you run out of clean clothes because I spent the day on the couch instead of doing laundry?"

"Then I'll do laundry," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

"You'll do laundry?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow at him. "When was the last time you did laundry?"

"Before you started working here," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But it's like riding a bike, right? Can't be that hard to remember."

"Oh, this I have to see," you said, unable to hide your amusement. "You, sorting colors and checking care labels, measuring detergent..."

"Hey, I'm a capable adult," he protested, though his grin suggested he was enjoying your teasing. "I managed to keep myself and two kids clothed and fed for a while before you showed up."

"Barely," you said, remembering the state of chaos you'd walked into on your first day. "And that's not a criticism, it's just... you were dealing with a lot Ope."

"I was," he agreed, his expression growing more serious. "But I don't anymore. Now I can focus on things that matter."

"Like making sure I don't accomplish anything productive?" you asked, though your tone was gentle rather than accusatory.

"Like making sure you understand that you matter more to me than a perfectly organized house," he said, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your chest tighten with emotion.

"Opie," you said quietly, the teasing momentarily forgotten.

"I'm serious," he said, turning slightly so he could look at you directly. "I spent months just trying to survive each day, and you made that possible. But now... now I want more than survival. I want to actually live, and I want to do that with you."

The confession was so earnest, so heartfelt, that you felt your throat tighten with emotion. "You're not fighting fair," you said, your voice slightly husky.

"I'm not fighting." he said softly. "I'm just telling you the truth."

The observation struck closer to home than you'd expected, highlighting a tendency toward perfectionism that you'd developed as a survival mechanism over the years. The need to be indispensable, to prove your worth through flawless execution of every task, had become so ingrained that you sometimes forgot it was possible to simply exist in a space without earning your place there through constant productivity.

"I'm not used to relaxing," you admitted quietly. "It feels... indulgent."

"It feels human," Opie corrected gently. "And you deserve to feel human instead of like you have to be some kind of perfect housekeeping machine."

The words were simple, but they carried a weight of understanding that made your throat tight with emotion. Here was someone who saw through your carefully constructed competence to the person underneath—someone who not only accepted your need for control but actively encouraged you to let it go when it was safe to do so.

"Thank you," you said quietly, though the words felt insufficient for the gratitude you were experiencing.

"For what?"

"For wanting to take care of me," you said, the admission feeling both vulnerable and necessary. "Even when I'm not sure I how to let you."

The smile that spread across Opie's face was soft and genuine, carrying none of the teasing playfulness from earlier and all of the tender affection that had been growing between you over months of shared experiences.

"We'll figure it out," he said simply. "No rush, no pressure. Just... figuring it out."

The children's return from school brought a shift back toward the familiar rhythms of afternoon homework and dinner preparation, but the easy intimacy that had characterized the day carried over into the evening routines. Opie helped with homework supervision while you prepared the promised dinner pancakes, and the domestic collaboration felt natural in a way that went beyond mere practicality.

"These are the best pancakes ever," Ellie declared as she drowned her stack in syrup, her enthusiasm undimmed by the fact that they were essentially identical to the pancakes you'd made for breakfast countless times before.

"Everything tastes better when it's not supposed to be eaten at that time," Kenny observed with the kind of philosophical wisdom that sometimes emerged from his serious young mind.

"Very true," Opie agreed solemnly, catching your eye across the table with a look that suggested he was thinking about more than just food timing.

The evening progressed with the usual routine of baths and bedtime stories, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation that had you hyperaware of every casual touch, every shared smile, every moment when you and Opie found yourselves in the same space. The children seemed oblivious to the shift in dynamic, but you felt it like electricity in the air, a promise of intimacy that would have to wait until small eyes were closed and the house had settled into quiet.

After both children had been tucked into their beds and the house had assumed its nighttime stillness, you found yourself back in the kitchen, mechanically working through the dinner cleanup while your mind wandered to the possibilities that the evening might hold. The day had been filled with playful touches and meaningful looks, with conversations that danced around the edges of deeper feelings, and now, in the privacy of the empty kitchen, you wondered if the careful boundaries you'd both been maintaining might finally be tested.

You were standing at the sink, up to your elbows in soapy water as you scrubbed the pancake pan, when you felt hands settle on your waist again from behind. Unlike the morning's encounter at the counter, this touch carried no pretense of distraction or casual contact—it was deliberately intimate, possessive in a way that made your pulse quicken with anticipation.

"Almost finished?" Opie asked, his voice low and warm against your ear as he stepped closer, his chest pressing against your back and his arms encircling your waist.

"Almost," you confirmed, though your attention was now divided between the dishes and the way his embrace made you feel protected and desired in equal measure.

His chin came to rest on top of your head, taking advantage of your height difference to envelop you completely in his warmth. The gesture was affectionate and comfortable, the kind of casual intimacy that suggested he was growing accustomed to having the right to touch you whenever he wanted.

"Good," he murmured, his hands splaying across your stomach in a way that made your breath catch. "I've been waiting to do this again."

The admission sent warmth flooding through your system, and you found yourself leaning back against his solid chest, allowing yourself to melt into the comfort he was offering.

"What happened to going slow?" you teased, though there was no real protest in your voice.

"This is slow," Opie replied, his lips brushing against your temple in a touch that was barely a kiss. "If I were going fast, you wouldn't still be doing dishes."

The suggestion in his words made your stomach flutter with anticipation, and you almost gripped the edge of the sink to steady yourself against the wave of desire that crashed over you.

"Opie," you said quietly, though whether it was a warning or an invitation, you weren't entirely sure.

"I know," he said softly, understanding the complexity of your response without needing further explanation. "I know we're taking our time, and I know there are boundaries. But I also know that I've been thinking about holding you like this, and now that the kids are asleep..."

He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between you. The house was quiet, the children were settled, and for the first time all day, you had true privacy to explore whatever was building between you.

"Now that the kids are asleep?" you prompted, turning slightly in his arms so you could see his face.

"Now that the kids are asleep, I can stop pretending that I don't want to touch you every chance I get," he said honestly, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. "I can stop pretending that watching you move around my kitchen all night hasn't been driving me crazy."

The confession sent heat racing through your veins, and you found yourself turning fully in his arms, the dishes forgotten as you faced him in the circle of his embrace. His hands settled on your hips with a odd familiarity that spoke to how natural this felt, how right it seemed to be in his arms in the quiet intimacy of his kitchen.

"You've been very distracting today," you said, reaching up to rest your hands against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt.

"Have I?" he asked innocently, though the heat in his eyes suggested he knew exactly how distracting he'd been.

"Very," you confirmed, allowing your fingers to trace small patterns against his chest. "I got almost nothing accomplished."

"I got plenty accomplished," Opie said, leaning down until his forehead touched yours. "I accomplished learning how you look when you're relaxed, making you laugh more times than I've ever heard before and convincing you to spend the day with me instead."

The list of accomplishments was so sweet, so focused on your wellbeing rather than his own desires, that you felt your chest tighten with emotion that went beyond simple attraction.

"Those are pretty significant accomplishments," you agreed quietly.

"I thought so," he said, his voice carrying a satisfaction that made you smile.

The space between you seemed to shimmer with possibility, charged with the kind of tension that suggested you were on the verge of crossing lines that had been carefully maintained for months. When Opie's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone with gentle reverence, you felt yourself leaning into the touch with a hunger that had been building all day.

"God I want to kiss you," he said quietly, the words carrying both desire and request for permission.

"And I'm pretty sure I want you to," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper in the quiet kitchen.

His eyes never left yours as he took your hand from his chest, lifting it gently to his lips. The kiss he pressed to your palm was soft and reverent, his lips warm against your skin as his breath sent shivers up your arm. The gesture was somehow more intimate than any kiss on the lips could have been, tender and claiming all at once.

You were lost in the sensation, in the way he was looking at you like you were something precious, when you suddenly felt small arms wrap around both of your legs. The embrace came out of nowhere, no warning footsteps or sleepy voice to announce Kenny's presence—just the sudden, trusting weight of a child seeking comfort from the two people who represented safety in his world. But instead of jumping apart or creating guilty distance, you found yourselves simply pausing in place, Opie's arms still around you, your hands still resting on his chest.

Kenny stood wearing his blue plaid pajamas, his hair tousled from sleep and his expression carrying the slightly dazed quality that came from waking up in an unfamiliar emotional state. He didn't seem startled by finding you in his father's arms—if anything, he looked relieved, as if discovering the two of you together was confirmation of something he'd been hoping to see.

"Hey, buddy," Opie said gently, his voice calm and reassuring despite the interruption. "What's going on? Bad dream?"

Kenny nodded, his small face scrunched with the lingering fear that nightmares could leave behind. His small arms squeezing tighter around both of your legs in a hug that encompassed your joined figures.

"Can I stay with you guys for a little while?" he asked, his voice muffled against the fabric of your jeans.

The request was so trusting, so natural in its assumption that you and his father were a unit that could provide comfort together, that you felt your heart clench with overwhelming affection for the small boy who was treating your embrace like the most normal thing in the world.

"Of course," you said softly, one hand coming down to rest on Kenny's head while the other remained on Opie's chest. "Do you want to tell us about the dream?"

"There were monsters," Kenny said simply, his grip tightening on both of you as if your combined presence could ward off any lingering fear. "But they can't get me if you're both here."

The absolute faith in his voice, the way he'd instinctively sought comfort from both of you as a team, spoke to something profound about how he viewed your role in his family. This wasn't a child who saw you as an interloper or a replacement—this was a child who had come to view you as an integral part of his security and happiness.

Opie's arms tightened around you slightly, and when you looked up at him, you could see emotion shining in his eyes that matched what you were feeling. This moment—standing in his kitchen with his son hugging both of your legs, being treated as a natural unit of comfort and protection—felt like a glimpse into a future that was both terrifying and wonderful in its possibility.

"That's right," Opie said quietly, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at his son. "No monsters can get you, buddy."

The simple statement carried weight that went beyond reassurance about bad dreams. It was a declaration of partnership, an acknowledgment that somewhere along the way, you'd become part of the protective structure that surrounded his children. And judging by the way Kenny settled more comfortably against both of you, it was an arrangement that felt as natural to him as breathing.

Standing there in the quiet kitchen, held in Opie's arms while his son clung to both of you with the trusting faith of childhood, you realized that the careful boundaries and slow progression you'd been maintaining were perhaps less important than you'd thought. Some connections transcended planning and patience—they simply existed, as natural and inevitable as the sunrise.

[ravennaortiz]

Omg 🔥🥵💜 i....was not prepared for this one this morning! Delicious and amazing! 👏

A little something to cheer myself up.

I hope you enjoy it.

Stumbling into ruin.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Descriptions of sex. Kissing, riding, drum jumping, blow jobs. 18+

Word count: 2348

Diosa was never quiet. The club’s heartbeat lived in its walls: bass-heavy music, laughter echoing against velvet drapes, the muted percussion of glasses clinking

Juice told himself he wasn’t there for the girls, that he was just waiting on club business, that he had a reason for leaning on the bar when he could be anywhere else. But he knew the truth.

It was her.

The new girl.

She wasn’t the loudest, or the flashiest. She didn’t have to be. She floated through the room in a little black dress, perfume trailing in her wake, the kind of smile that made his chest tighten. Juice caught himself watching her laugh, caught himself memorizing the curve of her lipstick and the flick of her eyeliner. He should have looked away. Instead, he lingered in doorways, eyes tracking her, pretending to scroll his phone like he wasn’t orbiting her every move.

And she noticed.

“Ortiz,” her voice pulled him out of another too-long stare one night, the crowd thinner, the hour later. She leaned on the bar across from him, that smile tugging at her lips. “You’re always lurking. What’s your deal?”

His throat closed up. “I—I wasn’t, I mean, I’m just—”

“You’re a terrible liar,” she teased, brushing past him. Close enough he caught the warmth of her skin, the sweetness of her perfume. Her hand found his wrist, delicate but firm, tugging him toward the hall that led to the back rooms.

“Wait—where—”

“You’re gonna keep staring, Juice?” she asked, glancing back at him, eyes bright. “Or you gonna do something about it?”

His heart stuttered. He should’ve made an excuse. Instead, he followed, pulse hammering so loud he swore she could hear it.

Inside the bedroom, the door clicked shut. The air felt heavier, muted. She pushed him gently onto the edge of the bed, straddling his lap before he could breathe. His hands froze useless at his sides, fists balled into the sheets.

“You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question. Her mouth brushed his jaw, soft, deliberate.

Juice tried to laugh but it cracked on his tongue. “I’m not—fuck, I just—”

“Relax,” she whispered, lips grazing his ear. “Let me.”

The first kiss undid him. Her lips moved against his, slow but insistent, and a helpless whimper broke from his throat before he could swallow it. His hands twitched, hovering at her waist, but never quite landing.

“Touch me,” she coaxed, guiding his palms up her thighs. He trembled beneath her.

“I—I don’t—” He stopped, breathing hard, embarrassed by the shake in his voice.

Her smile deepened against his mouth. “It’s okay, Juice. I’ll show you.”

Her lips moved against his again, softer this time, coaxing him instead of overwhelming. Juice shivered, like every brush of her mouth sent sparks through him. His fingers finally settled on her waist, gripping too lightly, like he was scared to hold on.

“That’s it,” she murmured, nipping at his lower lip. “See? Not so hard.”

Juice let out a breathy laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. More of a gasp, high in his throat. He tried to kiss her back, sloppy and uncertain, but the sound he made when her tongue slid against his was almost pitiful.

“God, you’re sweet,” she teased, threading her fingers into his mohawk, tugging just enough to tilt his head back. Her mouth trailed hot down his throat, teeth grazing skin, and Juice whimpered outright. His hips twitched beneath her without his permission.

“F-fuck,” he stammered, face burning. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Don’t apologize,” she cut in, firm but playful, her hand slipping under the hem of his kutte, fingers splayed against his chest. “Just let me.”

Her nails scraped lightly over his skin and he shuddered. His kutte slid off his shoulders before he realized she’d undone it. Then she was tugging at the edge of his hoodie.

“Arms up.”

Juice obeyed instantly, as if the command bypassed thought entirely. The hoodie joined the kutte on the floor, leaving him in just his t-shirt, which was already damp where her mouth had been on his neck.

She kissed him again, deeper this time, pushing him back until he was sprawled against the mattress. She straddled his thighs, grinding down slow enough that he choked on his own breath.

“Fuck—” His hands flew to her hips, clutching like he’d drown without the anchor. His eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted, as if the pressure alone was too much.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered against his lips, tugging his shirt up over his head before he could respond.

Juice’s bare chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. His tattoos stretched with the motion, his skin flushed. He looked wrecked already — eyes wide, lips swollen, sweat beginning to gather at his temples.

“Beautiful,” she said simply, pushing him down again when he tried to sit up. Her fingers toyed with the waistband of his jeans. “You okay?”

He nodded too fast. “Y-yeah. I just—I don’t want to mess this up.”

Her smile softened, though her hand slipped lower, toying with the button of his jeans. “Juice… the only way you mess this up is if you stop.”

He groaned, a helpless sound, as she leaned in for another kiss — and with practiced ease, she undid his jeans, dragging the zipper down slow, like she enjoyed watching him squirm.

Her fingers lingered on his fly, toying with the denim before she eased his jeans open wider. Juice’s breath hitched, chest heaving. His knuckles whitened where they gripped the sheets.

“Relax,” she whispered again, kissing him slow, her mouth moving with patience he didn’t have. When she pulled back, she took one of his trembling hands in hers and placed it boldly between her thighs.

Juice froze like he’d been struck. His palm hovered, stiff, caught in panic.

“Here,” she coaxed, pressing down until his touch met warm, damp silk. Her voice was low, a purr against his ear. “That’s all you have to do.”

“I—fuck—I don’t—” His voice cracked, and the heat that surged through him was equal parts fear and desperation. His fingers twitched uncertainly, like he had no idea where to start.

“Slow circles,” she guided, her hand over his, coaxing his movements. “Just like that. Easy.”

Juice swallowed hard, eyes wide, lips parted as he watched her face. His fingers moved clumsily, but the soft gasp she gave when he brushed the right spot sent shockwaves through him.

“Oh, god—” he stuttered, hips jerking beneath her. “Did I—? Was that—?”

“Yes.” Her smile curved wicked. She caught his chin, made him look at her. “That was perfect. Don’t stop.”

He obeyed, shaky and desperate, his touch uneven but eager. And when she moaned — really moaned, hips rolling into his palm — he let out a helpless whimper that almost matched her sound.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, breaking into a flood of words he couldn’t contain. “You’re—fuck, you’re so wet, I—shit, I can’t—”

“You can,” she insisted, grinding against his fingers. Her nails raked lightly over his shoulder as she tilted her head back, lips parted in pleasure. “You’re making me feel so good, Juice. Don’t you dare stop now.”

Juice groaned, high and broken, forehead dropping against her chest. His other hand fisted in the sheets, knuckles white. Every sound she made wrecked him further, each moan peeling another layer of control away.

When she finally pushed his hand deeper, guiding him exactly where she wanted him, Juice practically yelped.

“Please—please, tell me how to please you,” he begged, words tumbling out fast, voice ragged. “I don’t wanna fuck this up, just—just tell me—”

Her laughter was breathless, hot against his ear. “You’re not fucking anything up, Ortiz. You’re perfect. Keep going, baby.”

The pet name undid him completely. His breath hitched hard, hips lifting under her like he couldn’t bear the pressure in his jeans anymore.

Her hand slowed his frantic fumbling, slipping out from between her thighs to trail down his stomach. Juice was panting like he’d run a mile, face buried against her chest, but he jolted when her fingers brushed the bulge straining his jeans.

“W-wait—” he gasped, sitting up half a breath too late as she slid her hand inside his open fly.

“Shhh,” she soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I just want a taste.”

Juice nearly choked on air. “A—what?”

But she was already tugging his jeans lower, knuckles brushing over the waistband of his boxers. His cock strained visibly against the thin fabric, and when she freed him at last, the sound that left him was nothing short of desperate.

“Fuck—” His head fell back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut like he couldn’t look at her. His whole body trembled as her spit covered palm wrapped around him, stroking slow, deliberate.

“You’re so hard,” she whispered, kissing down his chest, each word punctuated by a brush of lips against hot skin.

Juice groaned, a wrecked little whine tearing out of him.

Her mouth replaced her hand, tongue sweeping over the swollen head before she slid down his length.

Juice yelled. A sharp, broken cry that cracked into a whimper, one hand shooting to her hair, the other clawing desperately at the sheets. His hips jerked involuntarily, then froze like he was terrified of hurting her.

“Oh my god—,” he babbled, voice high, ragged. His thighs trembled under her, every muscle tense. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”

She pulled off with a wet pop, smirking up at him. “Not yet. You’re not getting off that easy.”

Juice stared down at her, pupils blown, lips swollen from biting them too hard. He looked ruined already, chest heaving, skin damp with sweat.

And then she climbed back into his lap, taking his cock in hand, teasing him against her slick folds. His head hit the wall again with a thud, a broken whimper spilling from his throat.

“Wait—wait, I don’t—fuck, I’ve never—”

“Shhh.” She kissed him slow, swallowed his panic. “I’ve got you, Juice. Just let me.”

Then she sank down on him, inch by inch.

Juice sobbed. Not a cry, not a groan — a full-body, helpless sob that shook his chest. His arms locked around her, nails digging into her back as if he’d fall apart if he let go.

“Holy shit—oh fuck—please don’t stop,” he begged, voice cracking, hips already bucking under her in erratic thrusts he couldn’t control. “You feel so—oh my god—so fucking tight, I can’t—I can’t—”

She rolled her hips slow, deliberate, every move pulling another wrecked moan out of him.

“You’re perfect,” she breathed against his ear, nails dragging over his scalp. “Look at you, baby. Falling apart for me.”

Juice whimpered, clutching her like a lifeline, every broken sound spilling out of him raw and unfiltered.

She moved slow at first, rolling her hips until his cock dragged against every slick inch of her. Juice was gone from the second she sank down — head thrown back, mouth open, babbling broken curses.

“F-fuck, you’re—oh my god—” He clutched her waist like he was drowning, his grip bruising but desperate.

Her nails raked down his chest, leaving angry red trails. She rose up and slid back down hard, and Juice nearly screamed. His thighs jolted beneath her, hips lifting without rhythm, chasing the heat of her body.

“Oh, shit—shit, please—” He buried his face in her neck, voice cracking high. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

“Slow down,” she teased, grinding down until he felt her clench tight around him. “You’re not gonna fall apart on me yet, baby.”

“I can’t—fuck—I swear I can’t—” He was whimpering now, little sobs slipping between every word, his cock twitching inside her with every roll of her hips.

She caught his hands, guided one between her thighs. “Here,” she panted. “Feel me. Touch me while I ride you.”

Juice’s fingers were clumsy, trembling, but when he pressed against her clit and she moaned into his mouth, he broke. His hips surged upward hard enough to knock the headboard against the wall.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck—did you—?” His voice was high, frantic, words spilling in a rush.

“Yes, Juice,” she gasped, grinding down harder. “Just like that, baby. You’re making me so wet.”

He whimpered like she’d stabbed him, hips snapping uncontrollably, eyes rolling back. “Jesus Christ—I’m gonna—please—”

She tightened her grip in his hair, yanking his head back so she could watch him fall apart. His face was wrecked — eyes glazed, lips swollen, sweat dripping down his temple.

“You’re beautiful like this,” she murmured, bouncing harder now, skin slapping hot and wet against his. “Begging for me. You like me using you, Ortiz?”

Juice sobbed, his voice breaking so high it was almost pitiful. “Yes—fuck—yes, I love it, please don’t stop, I’ll do anything, just don’t stop—”

Her pace turned merciless. Every thrust had him jerking beneath her, muscles straining, veins standing out in his neck. He was loud now — shameless moans, gasps, pleas tumbling out between every ragged breath.

“Please I —fuck, I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry.” Her teeth grazed his ear, her voice a dark purr. “Cum for me, Juice. I want you to.”

That was all it took. He shattered beneath her, body arching hard, a hoarse, broken cry ripping out of his throat. Hot release pulsed inside her in erratic bursts, his whole body trembling as if he’d never known anything like it.

She rode him through it, milking every twitch, every sob. And when she finally let herself go, clenching tight around him with a sharp cry of her own, Juice nearly passed out.

He collapsed back against the mattress, drenched in sweat, chest heaving like he couldn’t catch his breath. His hands still clutched her like he was afraid she’d disappear.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, voice wrecked, eyes glassy. “I’ve never—fuck, I’ve never—”

She kissed his damp cheek, laughing softly, affectionate. “I know, baby. You were perfect.”

Juice whined, burying his face in her neck, still trembling. “Can we—” His voice cracked again. “Can we do it again?”

@ravennaortiz . Enjoy! 😉

[ravennaortiz]

Princesa

Chapter Seven: Getting Serious

Pairing: Esai Alvarez x OC / Father Figure Bishop & OC

Summary: She had to run away, there was nothing left for her there. After losing everything, her mother and step father and being shipped off across the country to live with her bastard of a birth father, she thought her life was over. But a chance encounter on the side of the highway has her world changing again. Perhaps for the better. Maybe she’ll finally have a family again.

In this chapter: Esai and Salacia finally talk about their relationship and where they want things to go. What started out as just fun has become so much more. But what will happen when a job goes wrong?

Trigger/Content Warning(s): fluff, angst, the works.

Word Count: 3603

A/N: and thus the retconning begins.

Tags: @staley83 @ravennaortiz @privatetruths @kateawolf13 @tinyshyteacup

Previous Part(s):

Masterlist

Salacia smiled to herself as she watched Esai working on her car. His shirt was off and his golden skin was glistening in the California sun. She was supposed to be studying, she had a test on Monday, the last test before the final exam. She should be studying her notes rather than her boyfriends, toned, tanned, tattooed torso. Or his rather plump ass. He loved to stare at hers so much she didn’t get the chance to ogle his as much.

But she just couldn’t tear her eyes off of him. She bit her lip. She had the urge to run her tongue up his spine. She shook the image out of her mind and cleared her throat before taking a sip of her drink and trying to go back to her notes.

She heard Esai chuckle, he knew she was watching him. She couldn’t help it. He was sexy and skilled. How was she supposed to not appreciate him?

“Something on your mind, querida?” He asked with a laugh in his voice.

“So many things, baby.” She replied, “Right now I was realizing you have a nice ass.”

He laughed, “That doesn’t sound like school work.” He joked.

“You asked what was on my mind…your ass is…not my vocabulary.” She teased back.

Esai laughed and finally came out from under the hood of her car, pulling the rag from his pocket to wipe his hands off as he turned to look at her. His hands were dirty and there was even a touch of oil or grease on his well built chest. She bit her lip as she eyed him up and down.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mami.” He warned, “You wanted me to fix your car while you studied…you’re about to end up bent over the hood of this car and risk a record for indecent exposure.”

She pouted, “It’s hard not to stare when my boyfriend is so sexy.” She whined with a giggle at the end.

“Let me finish with your car and you can help me get all cleaned up in the shower, okay?” He laughed.

He loved to blow things off to spend time in bed with her, but when it came to his club duties or fixing her car, he was all business. He took the Mayans seriously, and when it came to her car…he wanted her safe at all times. So he needed to be sure that it was drivable. She knew that so she nodded and agreed, doing her best to go back to her notes.

“Okay.” She sighed playfully.

—

Esai had had a hard run with the club, there was some drama brewing going on with her bio-father’s club and his father wanted him to be a part of things more seriously now. He was laying on Salacia’s bed waiting for her to get home from her part time job.

He had had a key to her place for around four months now. And he could have just gone to his place after the run, but he didn’t want to. It was almost an hour longer to ride but he wanted to be with her.

He had taken a shower and had planned to order them some dinner, but after his shower he flopped onto her bed and dozed off. His back was killing him.

He woke up barely able to move. He groaned and looked around the room, the sun was down but the scent of someone’s shower still hung in the air. Not his, he knew the scent of Salacia’s body wash. He sat up and smiled, hearing her music playing in the other room.

He walked out of the bedroom and into the living room of her small apartment smiling as he saw her dancing around the kitchen making a simple dinner. Her hair was up and she was wearing one of his t-shirts he had left there over some sleep shorts. Her red hair was pulled back in a braid, it must have been still damp when she pulled it back because the back of his shirt had a small dark spot around where the braid sat against her back. She seemed so happy and at ease in this moment.

It was honestly such a small moment. But she had never looked as good to him as now.

He smiled wider and walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck, “Mi Princesa.” He murmured, “How was work?”

“People suck. But otherwise okay.” She giggled and leaned against his hold, glad she had put dinner in the oven before he woke up, “Hard run, you didn’t even move when I went in to take a shower?”

“Yeah...god...I’m exhausted…” he admitted.

“I’m an hour away from your place, why didn’t you just go home?” She asked, turning to look at him curiously, “You could have gotten hurt riding that tired.”

“I would rather be with you than alone.” He said, “I did come home.”

Her heart sped up as she took in his words. He was so tired still it took his mind a moment to catch up with his words. His eyes widened as he realized what he had just admitted.

“Esai?” She questioned, “Do...do you really mean that?”

Her cheeks were bright pink and her silver eyes were glimmering with hope and desire for him. He knew that he couldn’t keep his feelings locked up anymore.

“Yes.” He admitted, “My place is just an apartment...my home...is you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a sweet kiss. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks but she didn’t care. She just kept her lips pressed against his while his arms wrapped around her waist and held her close. She’d never expected anyone to feel so much for her. Or to feel this much for anyone.

When she and Esai started sneaking around it was only supposed to be fun, casual sex. But somewhere along the lines it grew until it blossomed into this moment.

She pulled away and looked into his warm brown eyes, the smile on his face taking her breath away like usual. He reached up and cupped her cheek, swiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

“I don’t want you crying over me yet, carino.” He murmured with a light chuckle.

She laughed softly, “Only happy tears, I swear.”

They stood like that for a moment. Just looking at each other. They knew what his words meant. What his moment meant. Without saying it they had told each other how they felt.

“Te amo, mi corazon, you are more than I ever expected.” He breathed.

He needed to say it. He needed her to hear him say it.

“Te amo, Esai. You are everything I thought I could never have.” She murmured and gently brushed her lips against his, “I never want to let you go.”

“You’ll never have to.” He assured her.

—

Finally admitting that they loved each other only served to strengthen Esai’s resolve to be the man that Salacia deserved. They had been sneaking around in a deeply serious relationship for almost a year now and he knew that she was meant to be his. He was sitting on Salacia’s couch while her head rested in his lap. She had fallen asleep watching the movie they’d settled on. He was running his fingers through her hair. It was soothing for him.

He had to go to a meeting with his dad the next week. Something big was going on with the club. They were on their way up in the world. And he had agreed to do something that was risking his life.

He wanted to tell her, let her in, he knew that she knew what the club was for the most part, not all the dirty details, but being Bishop’s adopted daughter she knew about the drugs. She didn’t know anything beyond what they did as a whole,

He also knew that a long term relationship in the MC world relied on telling your Old Lady nothing or everything. But he was certain that there had to be somewhere in the middle they could meet.

Her soft red hair soothed him as she slept soundly. She had just three months left of school. He was so proud of her. She had worked so hard to get where she was. She had suffered so much and now she finally had the chance to have a life that she dreamed of. He felt lucky she wanted to include him in that dream life.

He knew, as he watched her sleep, that he would tell her the bare bones of what he had agreed to do. He didn’t want to stress her out any more before her upcoming tests.

Salacia stirred a bit before sitting up and smiling at him. The movie was almost over and she yawned before apologizing.

“Sorry, I’m just so sleepy lately.” She murmured.

Esai cupped her cheek and chuckled, “It’s fine, Mami, you need the sleep.” He said, “You’re working so hard for that degree.”

She leaned into his hand, “They’re starting to ask us what hospitals or clinics we want to apply to.” She said, “I…I want to apply to the Emergency Clinic in Santo Padre, they helped me so much when I was pretty much in hiding…but…I don’t want to…leave you.” Tears welled in her eyes.

She had said it. She had finally said it. She didn’t want to leave him. But she still wanted to go home. It was a hard position to be in. Which was why he was going through with this plan.

“I’ve got a major job to do for the club, if it goes well…I am going to ask for a transfer.” He said.

“Where?” She asked, too tired to follow his line of thought right off.

“Santo Padre, if that's where you’re gonna move to work, that’s where I, transferring. There are plenty of charters that I can transfer to if you wind up somewhere else. But I want to be with you. And just like you could work at any clinic I can transfer to any charter if this goes right.” He assured her.

Salacia’s silver eyes widened in shock, “Esai?! Are you sure? Leaving your dad, your charter, your home?” She exclaimed.

“I told you last week…after that run…my home is you. I couldn’t stay and you go, that would kill me…I couldn’t ask you to stay…your family is in Santo Padre, you should be with them.” He assured her.

“Your family is in Oakland though, I can’t ask you to leave them.” She said.

“That’s where you’re wrong, I have family in Santo Padre too, the Mayans are a family. I’ll be able to handle it.” He said, “Plus…I could make a name for myself…in a way I don’t think I can here.”

“You’re in your dad’s shadow here.” She said and he nodded, “Be careful.” She cupped his cheeks in her soft hands, “I don’t know what you’re gonna do, and I don’t want the details…it’s dangerous, I can see that in your eyes…”

“Two hits.” He said, “Marco, Felix, Oscar, and me. I’m in charge. If I get this right, no presidente will deny my transfer request.”

“I mean…one might have an issue with you fucking his daughter in secret…but maybe she can smooth that bit of drama out.” She giggled, trying to soothe her nerves about him taking on such a risky job.

He huffed out a laugh and nodded. He knew if anyone could prevent the shit storm that would hit him if they went about everything wrong. He leaned in and kissed her gently.

“Te amo, mi Princesa.” He murmured and kissed her again.

She kissed back and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her body close to his. Just feeling his body against hers was a comfort.

She smiled into the kiss. She knew he was capable of whatever was being asked of him. She believed in him. She always would.

—

Esai hadn’t been around for a week. Planning and taking care of whatever was being asked of him. He kept in contact with her as best he could. Texting her each morning and night. The morning of her test was the day that he was planning to go through with the job he had been given. She had texted him first thing that morning to be safe and that she loved him.

She was nervous all day but still managed to finish her test and feel confident about the results. She and Maria met up after class and decided to go back to Salacia’s apartment for an impromptu sleepover since Marco was off with Esai doing whatever it was the club wanted done.

“I’m worried.” Maria admitted, “I know he knows what he’s doing and that he’s got back up…but I’m not used to this world…”

Salacia sighed and nodded as she grabbed them each a beer from the fridge, “I get it…I spent most of my teen years around MCs…and dealt with the man I consider my second father going for runs across the border whenever it was needed…and being gone for who knows how long, hardly able to keep in contact…it’s scary.” She sighed, “Now that my boyfriend is involved in the dangerous side of things I’m even more nervous.”

“They’ll both be okay. We know that. But we can’t help but worry.” Maria said, able to articulate what they were both feeling far better than Salacia could in this moment.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask, how the hell did you end up adopted by a Mexican biker?” Maria asked.

“To start with, my biological father is a biker as well…but I never knew him. All I knew was my mother and Luis, my step-father. Mom got knocked up by this biker who used to come to the bar she worked at, she was a bartender my entire life. He swore he’d step up but didn’t. Only thing he did was sign my birth certificate. When I was less than a year old, mom moved back to her home city of Miami and met Luis who had been her high school sweetheart and they reconnected. He loved me like I was his own. I was his daughter, my bio dad didn’t matter, he didn’t fight to see me or even call me.” Salacia sighed, “Then Mom and Luis died and I was forced to move here to California to live with bio-dad. Shit got bad when I was fifteen and I ran away. Bishop literally found me walking on the side of the highway and saved my life.”

“Jesus.” Maria said, “Is Luis why you speak Spanish so well?”

“Oh yeah, he was Cuban, I grew up in Little Havana in Miami.” Salacia laughed, “*That’s also why my Spanish sounds just a little different than yours or Esai’s.*” she added with a grin.

Maria laughed, “Hey, we can at least understand you better than when some of those med students who just started taking Spanish last year to learn a second language because in some places in the US it’s necessary.” She joked.

“And you never know where you’re gonna land for a residency.” Salacia said.

“Mmmhmm, Julie, that girl I work with who’s in school to be a pulmonologist, she says she prays every night that she isn’t sent somewhere cold.” Maria said, “I keep telling her the more she says to the universe she doesn’t want that…the bigger chance she’s gonna be sent to Colorado or Montana…Maine…some place with snow.”

Salacia nodded, “The universe does like to fuck with people.” She affirmed.

“Let’s just hope it brings our men back to us.” Maria said.

“I’ll drink to that.” Salacia agreed and took a sip of her beer.

—

Esai arrived at Salacia’s apartment well after midnight. He was distressed and scared. He had fucked everything up. He was certain that he had fucked everything up. He used his key and made his way past the walls that he knew even better than his own now. Her apartment had become his home base like her arms had become his home. He prayed that he would get to keep her in his life after this. That he would have a life after this fuck up.

He made his way into her bedroom and saw her curled up sleeping soundly. The blankets strewn across the bed as she lay uncovered her ceiling fan causing her red hair to flutter softly. She was wearing only her underwear and one of his old MC t-shirts. She looked so peaceful in the room barely lit by the bathroom light. She left it on when she was alone. She didn’t like to be alone in the dark if she could help it, and when she was she kept a light on.

He had stopped by the Oakland clubhouse and showered after telling his father what had happened. All his dad said is they would talk about it the next day. Esai sighed and crawled into bed behind Salacia and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

She stirred awake, “Esai?” She asked with a soft yawn.

“Si, it’s me. Lo siento, Mami.” He murmured and kissed the back of her neck, “Didn’t mean to wake you, just had to hold you.”

“Something happened.” Salacia said and set her hands over his.

“Both hits went wrong. And they’re gonna know it was the Mayans. I fucked up. Got in my head about proving myself…” He sighed, “I don’t know what’s gonna happen…but if retribution comes it’s my neck it’s gonna come for.”

Salacia froze at his words. The thought of losing him made her whole body shake. She turned over to face him.

“Don’t say that.” She breathed, “Please…there’s always a way…there is no way your dad would let you die…”

“I…I failed…if it’s what’s asked for…it’s what will happen…” Esai seemed resigned to the punishment that hadn’t even been set yet.

“Esai, look at me…please…have some faith…” she cupped his cheeks, “I can’t live without you…” tears welled in her eyes.

He knew that his fears were well founded, but the pain in her eyes when he told her the risks of his failure made his heart ache. He knew that he could be taken out over this, so did she. But she was right he had to have faith. He had to believe that his father’s love for him would mean more than business.

He had asked for this job and failed it. He owned that. But still, he hoped he didn’t have to die for his failure.

“I won’t leave you.” He said and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her temple, “I love you.”

“I love you too, and no matter what I am keeping you here with me.” She said and cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss, “We can handle anything together, right?“

“Right,” he said, willing them both to believe it.

—

The next morning when he left for a meeting with his father he kissed her with all the love he had in his soul. The kind of love he never expected to feel for another person.

“Te amo, Salacia,” he breathed against her lips.

“Te amo, Esai, be safe,” she murmured.

They didn’t say goodbye. Knowing if those words left either of their lips they would break and try to run away together. But he was a man, he had to face the retribution that was coming. And he wouldn’t take her away from her family. He would never ask that of her.

All he wanted to do was come back to her at the end of the day.

—

Salacia was walking through her classes in a fog. She was terrified of the possibilities. Part of her wanted to call Marcus and beg him to go easy on Esai. But she swallowed that down. No man, no biker, and especially no Mayan, needed their woman to talk for them. It would go even worse if she tried.

So she just took a deep breath and told herself that Marcus was a smart man, a strong man, and a good leader. But he was still a father. She hoped that those two sides could meld and save the young man she loved’s life.

She was walking to her car after a long day of classes she barely registered the content of and decided to check her phone to see if Esai had texted. Only to get a call before she could text him.

She answered, it was an unknown number, but dating and being family to bikers told her to try and answer every call she could in case they were calling from lockup.

“Hello?” She said, trying to sound at ease.

“Hello, is this Ms. Salacia Losa?” The woman on the other end asked, the tone of voice told her she knew exactly what kind of call this was and who was calling.

“Yes?” She said as the woman, a nurse, gave her her name and the name of the hospital, her heart was racing.

“I’m calling because you are the emergency contact for a young man we have in surgery right now. Esai Alvarez?” The woman said and Salacia felt her world crashing around her.

All she knew was she had to get to the hospital. She had to get to Esai.

[ravennaortiz]

August 17-Shh! The windows are open remember? w/Clay As always 18+.

requested by the lovely @privatetruths

You were lounging by the pool, the sun warm on your skin as it dried you from your dip in the pool. You and your sister Tara had come over to her inlaws house with your nephews to enjoy their pool. The boys were splashing and carrying on as Tara sat on the steps with Gemma chatting. You had been in and out as the day had gone on while you read. Clay had been in the garage and had sat with you guys during lunch but otherwise had been absent.

 A ding on your phone pulled you from your nap. You smiled as you saw the preview that stated make sure no one can see. Opening the thread you saw a photo of Clays dick, his left hand wrapped around it showing his wedding band followed by the message come in and lets play a quiet game. You swallowed hard as you glanced towards where Gemma and Tara were still chatting. You were nervous about this in away you hadn’t been when you and Jax had started sleeping together. Probably because you weren’t scared of your sister like you were Gemma.

Another ding had you looking back to your phone. Come on kitten I know you like your cock married. You felt yourself heat up at the words. He wasn’t wrong and he knew that because he had found you being bent over more than once by his stepson over the last couple of weeks. Jax had brought his silence by having you suck his cock and offering you up. Another message came through as you sat up. Our bedroom window faces the pool, I’ll make sure you can keep an eye on Gem while I breed that tight pussy of yours. With that you were on your feet and calling out you were going for a walk before heading into the house.

You swallowed hard as the cool air hit you as you made your way down the hall to the bedroom. The door was open and Clay was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard facing the window. The blind was open as well as the window itself but the sheer white curtain was pulled across. You could see clearly though it and knew if anyone turned they could see the two of you as well.

Clay watched you intently as he worked his cock over, the tip already leaking. You turned your eyes back to him as you made your way quickly to his side of the bed. Your hands on your bottoms before he stopped you.

“Leave em, don’t wanna be scrambling in case someone gets in.” stated Clay his eyes roaming your body. “Get up here and face the window.” He stated firmly.

You did as he said straddling his lap, his cock rubbing against your core as his rough hands rubbed your hips,ass and thighs. “All you gotta do is stay quiet, in positon and alert me if someone gets out of the pool, okay?” you stated as he moved your bottoms to the side exposing your wet entrance as he notched his tip making you bite your lip as you nodded.

You dug your nails into his legs as he slowly pulled you back onto his thick cock. “Fuck” you hissed as tears prickled at your lash line. Clay chuckled as he struggled to slip into your tight hole. “Relax for me sweetheart” he cooed as he moved a hand to play with your clit making you gasp as pleasure shot through you.

A few minutes later Clay was bouncing you on his cock roughly as you whimpered and whined. Until you were begging him to fill you as you came. “Shh” he chuckled,” windows are open remember? Hate for Gem to ruin our fun” he grunted before thrusting one more time into you as his cock twitched shooting ropes of cum into you.

[ravennaortiz]

Hello Loves!

This update is for the week of 8/17/25 -8/23/25!

What You May Have Missed:

Biker Boys of Summer- Catch up here!

What To Expect:

Biker Boys of Summer Stories

8/17-Shh, the windows are open w/Clay

8/18 A- Wet tshirt contest w/Juice

8/18 B- Wet tshirt Contest w/Happy

8/19 A-Why is it so hot in here? w/Opie

8/19 B- Why is it so hot in here w/Coco

8/20- The stars dont shine as bright as you w/Juice

8/21- walk in freezer play time w/Tig

8/22 Celebrating my Birthday w/ a smutty choose your own adventure!!!! 20 Stories!

8/23- I have sand in places you dont want sand w/Juice

Reminders/Announcements/Updates:

Requests are Open! Click here to check the rules, who I write for etc!

Want to be on the tag list? Click here and feel out the form

Want to know what is going on in the kitchen? Check out my WIP page!

As Always Happy Reading!

Love R!

[ravennaortiz]

Imagine this…

Jax walked into the club like a storm. Not loud, no, he moved with that slow, predatory swagger that turned heads without trying. The moment he sank into the leather couch in the VIP lounge, the girls started closing in. Some with drinks, others with barely-there smiles all of them in nothing but thongs and glitter.

“Hey there, handsome,” one of them purred, sliding closer. “You look like you’re in the mood tonight.”

He didn’t answer. Just leaned back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight like it had been carved from stone. His lips were pressed into a thin line, fingers tapping his knee like he was holding back a storm.

“Mmm, how about a massage then…” another one whispered, already climbing into his lap.

“Ladies,” he said flatly, not even blinking, “get lost. And send your manager in.”

Silence hit the room like a slap. The girls glanced at each other, like he’d just said the cops were outside. Then, with a chorus of gasps and offended sighs, they scattered like startled birds.

Not even a minute passed before the door opened again and there you were. Sharp black suit. Killer heels. Definitely not a dancer. You were the one running this place.

Jax looked up, and something changed in his face. That rough, unreadable biker expression softened into a smile so genuine, so warm it actually made your breath catch (gif).

“How’d you find me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, surprised but not entirely displeased.

“Told you,” he said with that devilish charm. “You can’t hide from me.” He gave the place a once-over. “So this is yours?”

“Yeah… but I don’t remember telling you that,” you said slowly. “At least not between the chips and the juice aisle.”

You both remembered two days ago, grocery store, checkout line. Him with a bunch of loud friends, grabbing smokes. You, minding your business. Until that smile.

Jax chuckled deep and real.

“Small town. People talk.”

“Do they?” You smirked. “Especially about me. I’ve lived here forever. Like… a whole month and a half.”

“That explains why I hadn’t seen you before,” he said, leaning in just slightly. “Tragic oversight, honestly.”

“Could be,” you replied, arms crossed.

His eyes didn’t leave you, like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“So…” he said slowly. “How about that date?”

You narrowed your eyes, teasing.

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Nope.” He laughed, easy and low. “But I promise—you’re gonna like it.”

*credit to gif owner

[ravennaortiz]

These were all amazing!

As always, here's the complete list of drabbles from the party. Thank you everyone for coming out! Mmmmuuaah!!! See you next year!💜

** -indicates drabble is more than 100 words

movie, popcorn, wine - Pope Cody (Animal Kingdom)

guard, trust, book - Rio (Good Girls)

strain, close, delicate - Kevin Atwater (Chicago PD)

splash, purple, sunset - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

ring, car, water - Chibs Telford (SOA)

popsicle, bandaid, duck - Happy Lowman (SOA)

swing, summer, punch - Guero (Mayans MC)

secret, trouble, love - EZ Reyes (Mayans MC)

shower, sunburn, heatwave - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

travail, shot, dining - Kevin Atwater (Chicago PD)

pool, sunburn, rescued - Juice Ortiz** (SOA)

streetlights, tapestry, eyes - Rio (Good Girls)

baby, firecracker, work - Gilly Lopez (Mayans MC)

destroy, Bottles, fight - Guero (Mayans MC)

fruity, wave, laugh - Half Sack Epps (SOA)

try, drop, sharp - J Cody (Animal Kingdom)

nightclub, irresponsible, embrace - Dante Torres** (Chicago PD)

charity, rest, & portrait - Guero (Mayans MC)

rough, held, call - Rio (Good Girls)

ice, ribbon, sand - Coco Cruz (Mayans MC)

pretty, lately, over - Rio (Good Girls)

kink, gift, reward - Miguel Galindo (Mayans MC)

children, wedding, raining - Chibs Telford (SOA)

bathrobe, pillow, glasses - Happy Lowman (SOA)

pulse, sit, wheels - Rio (Good Girls)

lemon, retire, image - Kevin Atwater (Chicago PD)

night, adoration, love - Kozik (SOA)

legend, appreciate, walk - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

party, dress, jewelry - Happy Lowman (SOA)

moon, pillow, door - Angel Reyes (Mayans MC)

face, light, more - J Cody (Animal Kingdom)

history, forgive, kitchen - Rio (Good Girls)

computer, jealousy, dancing - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

paint, chain, sunset - Coco Cruz (Mayans MC)

thighs, daddy, ride - Miguel Galindo (Mayans MC)

wall, rent, encouraging - Dante Torres (Chicago PD)

water, dresser, cute - Kevin Atwater (Chicago PD)

table, drink, puzzle - EZ Reyes (Mayans MC)

ramble, wife, proposal - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

overwhelmed, overdose, rescue - Miguel Galindo (Mayans MC)

carnival, night, glow - Angel Reyes (Mayans MC) **

kink, rope, bondage - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

cupcake, cheese, firetruck - Juice Ortiz (SOA)

rose, cold, gun - Rio (Good Girls)

tighten, cold, purple - Nestor Oceteva (Mayans MC)

tattoo, blanket, sunshine - Opie Winston (SOA)

clock, pregnant, red - Manny Mayans (Mayans MC)

cry, cast, sweater - Tig Trager (SOA)

twice, cry, heat - Manny Mayans (Mayans MC)

[ravennaortiz]

Hey, just wanted to send in a request for your Love Language event going on!

Chibs from Sons of Anarchy + Words of Affirmation and a bit of physical touch

Mostly super romantic but a little suggestive towards the end would be good too if you feel like it! Thank you! ❤️

✨ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Sons Of Anarchy 🧠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Chibs Telford ❤️ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞: Words Of Affirmation + Physical Touch

You find him leaning against the bike, cigarette between his fingers, the low rumble of voices from inside the clubhouse fading as the door swings shut behind you.

The night air smells faintly of oil and leather, but it’s him you pick out first—cologne, smoke, the faint hint of whiskey that clings to him like a second skin.

He grins when he sees you, that slow, lopsided smile that says trouble’s coming in the best possible way. “There’s my gorgeous lass,” he says, voice low and warm, the accent curling around you like something tangible.

“You’ve been out here all night?” you ask, walking closer.

“Aye, maybe I was waitin’ on you.” He flicks the cigarette away, watching the ember die against the asphalt. His eyes stay on you, sharp and soft all at once. “Needed to see that face, love. Day’s been bloody shite.”

His hand finds yours, rough palm brushing over your knuckles like he’s memorizing the shape of them. Then, his thumb strokes the back of your hand, slow and deliberate. “Y’know what keeps me sane? You. The way you look at me like I’m worth somethin’ more than the kutte on my back or the mess I make.”

You start to protest, but he shakes his head, pulling you closer until your chest meets the solid warmth of his.

“No, hear me out,” he says, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You see the good, even when I’m not sure it’s there. You believe in me, love, and I’ve not had much of that in my life.”

Your breath hitches when he slides a hand to your waist, fingers curling against your hip. The touch is grounding and just a little possessive, his thumb tracing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “I’ll tell you every damn day if I have to—there’s nothin’ in this world I want more than you. You’re my safe place. My home.”

Your throat feels tight, and you think maybe you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Chibs leans in, his beard scratching lightly against your jaw as he presses his lips to your ear.

“And when the day comes that you doubt that,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something rougher, “I’ll spend the whole night provin’ it to you… over and over.”

The way he says it, low, intimate—makes heat curl in your stomach. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, letting you see exactly how much he means it. Then he kisses you, slow and unhurried, like there’s nowhere else in the world he needs to be.

When he finally pulls away, you’re still pressed against him, his hand anchored firmly at your waist. “Love you,” he says simply. No flourish, no hesitation. Just truth.

And you believe him. You always have.

[ravennaortiz]

Ooooh! Ahhh so excited!

Entering the room she sat back on the bed. What’s happening with you, Jay? She got at close as she could without waking him, eventually relaxing and closing her eyes. On the edge of sleep she felt him twitch, then do a full body jerk.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing her hand on his back, not wanting to startle him but wanting to pull him out of whatever dream he was having. Without ever opening his eyes, he reached back, dragging her hand to his chest. A few minutes later he was snoring softly.

Raniyah cheeks rose in the dark and she closed her eyes. He was still ‘her Jay.’

[ravennaortiz]

Love this!

The only safe place.

A Happy Lowman fic.

Chapter One: Mouse and men of mayhem.

Word count: 1337

Contains descriptions and injury, threat, violence and domestic abuse. Brief mentions of smoking and alcohol.

The night was quiet at the clubhouse — low music from the jukebox, the occasional crack of pool balls from the back.

Jax leaned in his chair, beer in hand, while Chibs idly rolled a smoke.

The door swung open, and the noise stilled like someone had turned down the volume.

She stepped inside, hood up, clothes clinging damp from the mist outside. The light caught her face just enough to show the fading shadow of a bruise along her cheekbone and a fresh cut on her lip. Her arms wrapped tight around herself — not from the cold.

Chibs was on his feet, brow furrowing. “Evenin’, lass. You lost?”

Her eyes flicked to him, then to Jax. “No. I just…” She hesitated, shifting her weight. “I just needed somewhere… safe. For a bit.”

Jax set his beer down, studying her with the same caution he’d use on a stranger at the table. “You in some kind of trouble?”

Her shoulders rose slightly, defensive. “No.”

The word was too quick, too clipped.

Chibs’s gaze lingered on the bruise. “You hurt?”

She shook her head, looking anywhere but their eyes. “It’s nothing. I just need to sit for a minute. I’ll go after that.”

They exchanged a glance. Neither of them knew her, but the tension rolling off her was as familiar as the smell of gun oil — someone carrying a fresh wound, whether she’d admit it or not.

Jax gestured toward the bar. “Alright. Sit. Get warm. You want a drink?”

She opened her mouth, but the door behind them groaned open again.

Bootsteps — heavy, unhurried — crossed the threshold. The room seemed to narrow.

Happy stepped in, kutte over a white t-shirt, the black leather creasing as he moved. He barely glanced at the table until his eyes landed on her.

The air changed.

The cigarette between his fingers hit the floor without a sound.

He crossed the room in three strides, stopping close enough that she had to tilt her head back to see him. His voice was low, rough, but carrying something in it that Jax and Chibs had never heard from him before.

“Mouse?”

Her eyes softened instantly, lips parting and her voice barely a whisper, as if anything louder would make him disappear. “Happy…”

Happy’s jaw clenched. He reached out, slow, his calloused fingers pushing down her hood, her damp brown hair falling loosely, his fingers curling under her chin — gentle in a way that seemed almost foreign on him. He tilted her face toward the light, his gaze tracing every bruise, every mark.

“Who did this?” he asked.

She swallowed, voice trembling. “My boyfriend. He’s… Mayans. Said if I ran—” She cut herself off, eyes dropping. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You came to the right place,” Happy said. And there was nothing soft in the words — only a promise.

Happy’s fingers lingered under her chin, thumb brushing lightly against the unbroken skin as if he could erase the damage with his touch alone. His eyes didn’t leave hers, not even for a second.

Behind them, Jax leaned toward Chibs, his voice pitched low. “You ever seen her before?”

Chibs shook his head once. “Nope. But he definitely has.”

It was obvious in every line of Happy’s body — the stillness, the intensity, the way the rest of the room ceased to exist. They’d seen him violent. They’d seen him cold. But this… this was different.

She let out a shaky breath, as if the tension holding her upright was starting to give way now that he was here. Happy’s hand shifted from her chin to the side of her neck, the weight of it grounding her as his thumb gently brushed the skin.

“When?” she asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Tonight,” he said. “I’ll deal with him tonight.”

Something flickered in her expression — relief tangled with fear.

Jax caught Chibs’ eye again, giving the smallest shake of his head. Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t for them to press. Not right now.

Happy finally looked away from her, just long enough to speak to them without raising his voice.

“She’s with me.”

The three words, final as a gavel.

Neither of them argued.

Chibs stepped back, palms up in a subtle gesture of surrender. “Aye, then. She’s yours.”

Jax just nodded, reaching for his beer again, though his gaze stayed locked on the pair for a beat longer. He’d seen enough to know one thing — if anyone tried to touch her again, Happy wouldn’t just hurt them. He’d make them disappear.

Happy turned back to her, his voice dipping into that quiet space meant only for her ears. “You’re safe now, Mouse. I got you.”

Before she could answer, his arm slid around her shoulders and pulled her in. It wasn’t careful at first — it was instinct, like his body moved before his brain had time to weigh it. But once she was there, his hold changed, tightening just enough to tell her she didn’t need to stand on her own anymore.

Her forehead found his chest, the leather of his kutte cool against her skin, the solid warmth beneath it steady and unyielding. She didn’t care that half the room could see them; for the first time in weeks, her pulse slowed.

Happy’s chin came to rest lightly against the top of her head. His hand, still splayed over her shoulder, shifted in small, grounding circles.

“You’re safe,” he murmured again, like he needed her to believe it. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Jax and Chibs didn’t speak — just exchanged a glance that said we’re staying out of this.

In Happy’s arms, the fight drained out of her in a slow, quiet surrender, and she let herself breathe.

Happy didn’t let go until he felt the tremor in her shoulders start to settle. When he finally eased back, it was only far enough to guide her toward the hallway with a hand firm at her back.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The room stayed quiet as they slipped past. No one followed.

He led her into the small back room off the garage — cluttered desk, battered couch, the faint smell of oil and leather in the air. Once the door clicked shut behind them, he shrugged out of his kutte without a word. The creak of worn leather filled the silence.

“Here.” He draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it settling heavy but warm. The scent of smoke, motor oil, and that faint spice that was just him wrapped around her instantly.

She gripped the edges like she could pull the comfort deeper into her skin. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yeah,” he cut in, his tone leaving no space for argument. “I did.”

Happy crouched in front of her where she sat on the couch, his eyes scanning the damage up close. He tilted her chin again, the pads of his fingers rough but steady. “Tell me where else you’re hurt.”

She hesitated, her gaze darting away. “Just my face.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mouse.” His voice softened, but the edge beneath it was real.

Her eyes closed briefly. “Bruises. My ribs. He…” She shook her head, not finishing.

Happy’s jaw tightened until it ached. He exhaled slowly, forcing his voice to stay even. “You’re stayin’ here tonight. No arguments. I’ll deal with him.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You can’t—”

“I can.” His gaze locked on hers, unblinking. “You know I can.”

Something in her eased — not because she thought he’d be gentle, but because she knew he wouldn’t. Not with the man who did this.

Happy straightened but stayed close, one hand on the back of the couch, the other brushing over the kutte on her shoulders like he was making sure it stayed put. “You hungry?”

She almost laughed, a small, broken sound. “I can’t remember the last time someone cared enough to ask me that.”

“Get used to it,” he said simply. In that same gravel filmed finality that only Happy Lowman possessed.

[ravennaortiz]

August 16B- Drinking alcohol does not count as staying hydrated. As always 18+

Requested by the lovely @tommyflanaganfan-blog

Chibs had been working in the yard all morning. He was hot, sweaty and tired. You had hung out with him for awhile until the sun and humidity had become too much. You had left him a small cooler of drinks and retreated into the coolness of the house. Chibs sighed with relieve as he walked into the kitchen, the cool air refreshing on his skin as he grabbed a towel and wiped at his face. He kissed you on the cheek as you stood at the stove making lunch.

“What are” he started as he took a sip from your leopard print tumbler before spitting it out across the counter as you turned to look at him before bursting into laughter.

“Sorry love, should have warned you about how I was hydrating today” you replied as you grabbed the cup from him and took a sip.

Chibs shook his head as he wiped the mess up. “Strange I don’t think drinking a whole tumbler of tequila is staying hydrated “ he stated with a chuckle as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and got water from the fridge.

“Clear means its basically water, besides I have some ice in it” you replied as you chook the tumbler so he could hear the ice inside.

[ravennaortiz]

August 16A- Drinking alcohol does not count as staying hydrated w/Halfsack. As always 18+

Requested by a lovely Anon

You were swaying to the music as you walked with your eyes closed. Sipping the fresh vodka and sprite you had gotten the prospect behind the bar to make you. Your foo caught a chair leg and you tumbled forward onto the couch you had been sharing with Halfsack as you watched your brother and Juice play pool. Halfsack let out a grunt as you landed on him, but grinned as you giggled.

“Whoopsie daisies” you exclaimed with a hiccup as you made no move to get off his lap. Partly because the room was spinning now and partly because you wanted to soak in this moment as long as you could. Ever since your brother had introduced you to the club you had felt an immediate attraction to Halfsack. His easy demeanor, kindness and of course good looks had you weak in the knees most days. But your brother had been clear on his friends and club brothers being off limits.

“You know its crazy” stated Halfsack as he took your drink and sniffed it giving you a grin. Ignoring the look Rat was giving him that screamed get my sister of your lap. “Pretty sure you were told you were cut off” he added as you grinned and shrugged.

“Girls gotta stay hydrated in this heat” you replied a bit slurred as you reached for the glass which he held out of reach.

“Last time I checked drinking alcohol does not count as staying hydrated” he replied as he drank the rest of your drink as you protested half heartedly, eyes closing with sleepiness.

“Ahh ahhh” stated Halfsack as he jostled your shoulder waking you up. “Lets get you some water before you fall back asleep.” He added as he propped you up.

“Fine as long as you sleeps with me” you murmured with another hiccup and giggle. Your words made Juice snort as he shot a look at Rat who looked annoyed and Half who was smirking and trying not to laugh.

“Something tells me Rat wont appreciate that at all” he chuckled as he stood, lifting you up with him. “Best I can do is water, and fresh air out at the picnic table” he added as you sighed.

“But I want” you started before Halfsack cut you off.

“I do too, but lets get you sober before we talk about this anymore” he whispered in your ear before kissing your forehead.

[ravennaortiz]

Chibs sitting in the garden with his son - prompts -mama will be home soon, promise. - good boy!

Hes drinking a jameson juice box whilst his son has apple.

title; apple and jameson (Chibs Telford x fem!reader)

prompts; 49) “mama will be home soon, promise” and 93) “good boy” — from three hundred assorted dialogue prompts

warnings; established relationship, husband!chibs x wife!reader, unnamed daughter, their son is called paddy (padraic, after his nephew. how could you not??), president!chibs (ik the gif isn’t but run with it), uh that’s it tho?? (490 words)

a/n; can be read as a standalone or part of the HIWY verse. still feels weird posting things about HIWY, cause like this is set (in my head at least) for like way after chibs is pres, so it’d be the sequel lol

one year masterlist | main masterlist

— thank you for celebrating my one year!!! | submissions are now closed

you’d taken your daughter out for the day, leaving Chibs and Paddy home themselves, which was never an issue. Paddy was Chibs’ biggest fan.

they were out in the back garden, Paddy giggling away as he played with the dog while Chibs watched.

he loved spending time with Paddy, even if it was just watching him run around with the occasional call out to Chibs. 

but the next time Paddy ran up to Chibs, he was asking about you.

“when will mama be home?”

Chibs smiled at Paddy, lifting him to sit on the chair opposite him while leaning forwards.

“mama will be home soon, promise”

Paddy tilted his head, small pout on his face at the implication that you wouldn’t be home when he wanted.

it made Chibs sigh, seeing his boy like this.

wasn’t as if there was anything Chibs could do to make you come home sooner, but seeing Paddy pouty and waiting for you tugged at his heart strings.

“she’ll be home soon, promise bud”

in response, Paddy only nodded, running a tiny hand along the dogs back.

the sight made Chibs smile as he leaned forwards to press a kiss to the top of Paddy’s head, quickly disappearing inside before coming back after a minute.

“hey Paddy, c’mere”

Chibs called out, piercing the straw into the apple juice box and holding it out to the youngest Telford.

as Paddy took the juice, Chibs pierced his own carton, something you’d took the liberty to get him as gift.

he loved them. whenever he was at home with the kids and they were drinking juice boxes, he was drinking a Jameson box.

Paddy sat idly in the chair drinking his juice, making a smile break out on Chibs’ face.

“good boy, bud”

it wasn’t much longer after he gave Paddy the juice that you came home, calling out to them both and getting no response.

you moved throughout the house and towards the back door, smiling to yourself at the sight of your boys.

“hey buddy”

Paddy turned to you, almost dropping his juice in the process as he ran to you.

“you miss me, huh?”

he only nodded in response, making you laugh as you sat him on your hip. moving towards Chibs where your daughter already sat curled into her.

Chibs smiled up at you as you sat opposite him, Paddy sat in your lap as he continued to drink from his juice box.

“ye have a good day love?”

your daughter curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as you replied.

“we did, that one missed you though”

he chuckled at your words, glancing down at her while soothing his hand along her back.

it typically ended like this, Paddy curled into you while your daughter curled into Chibs.

“wee man missed ye, but no as much as i did. glad ye had a good day though, ye both deserve it”

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[ravennaortiz]

Prompts for Chibs SOA

you are a grown man, don’t pout - i think i pulled something - bit kinky for a monday morning, don’t you think?”

title; take care of you (Chibs Telford x fem!reader)

prompts; 259) “you are a grown man, don’t pout”, 267) “i think i pulled something” and 265) “bit kinky for a monday morning, don’t you think?” — from three hundred assorted dialogue prompts

warnings; established relationship, reader does yoga and chibs makes it a little horny lol, chibs described to be getting older, some talks of sex, so minors do not interact!!!,uh reader calls off work to take care of him, but that’s it?? (848 words)

one year masterlist | main masterlist

— thank you for celebrating my one year!!! | submissions are now closed

you had woke up before Chibs, which didn’t happen very often, but when it did you always decided on squeezing in some time to do yoga.

it wasn’t as if you couldn’t do it when Chibs was around, it was just that he had a way of taking it and making it sexual.

and this morning seemed to be no different.

“the hell are ye doing love?”

his voice pulled you from your thoughts, making you laugh as you looked at him, upside down and from between your legs.

“yoga, you should try it sometime”

he hummed along, watching you as you continued.

now as you said it, you knew he wouldn’t, especially not with the hungry glint that flashed in his eyes as he continued to watch as you bent at the waist.

“no my thing love”

you rolled your eyes as he moved towards you, his hands taking hold of your hips to pull you back against him.

“i’m alright with this sorta yoga though”

he pulled you back against him again, making you gasp at the feeling of him through his sweatpants.

Chibs only pulled away as you peeled his hands from your hips, standing upright and turning to him to point a finger at his chest.

“bit kinky for a Monday morning, don’t you think?”

but Chibs only chuckled in response, smirking down at you instead.

“never too kinky, especially for a Monday morning”

you shook your head, trying to hide your smile as he leaned in to kiss you.

his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest as he quickly deepened the kiss.

he walked you backwards until the backs of your legs hit the couch, easily pushing you down onto it before he settled between your legs.

“baby, we can’t..”

Chibs pulled back to meet your eyes, a questioning look in his.

“ye okay love?”

you nodded, moving your hands across his chest while his eyes kept that worried and questioning glint to them.

his hands moved to the couch on either side of your head, waiting for your next words.

“have work soon, need to shower”

he gave you his best attempt at a pout, making you burst into a fit of laughs.

“you are a grown man, don’t pout”

Chibs sighed dramatically, pulling another laugh from you as he dropped his head to your shoulder, laying against you.

your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him against your chest.

“no sex but ye want to cuddle?”

he lifted his head to meet your eyes, meeting your smile with his own of disbelief.

“sex always lasts longer than cuddling with you”

Chibs chuckled, stealing another kiss before he settled against you again.

it was true, neither of you ever wanted to throw in the towel before you were ready to, and if you hadn’t of stopped him this morning, it definitely would’ve headed that way and made you late for work.

so instead, he compromised to cuddling.

the soft trail of your fingers across his back as you lay in a comfortable silence drew on, until you spoke softly after a while.

“still think you should try yoga, baby”

he quirked a brow at you, which made you giggle under him.

“you’re getting older baby, need to keep fit and all”

Chibs shook his head, a mix of disbelief and scepticism. sure you were right, he was getting older, but was yoga the answer?

his lips parted in a sigh, before he nodded.

“right okay, and were do you suggest i start”

you smirked up at him, watching him stand from the couch with an all but reluctant look on his face.

“easy steps, some stretching”

and that’s what he did, he followed your direction until he was wincing in pain, dropping onto the couch by your feet while holding his side.

he cursed under his breath as you moved towards him, trying to pull his hands away.

“i think i pulled something”

Chibs told, letting his head falll against the back of the couch while you moved across the couch towards him. 

either he was faking, which was a 50/50 chance with Chibs, or he was in pain but amping it up.

“think i need ye to take the day off, take care of me”

you gave him a look, but he kept at it.

“serious baby, need your loving to help get me better”

his hands were still clutching his side while he pouted at you again, earning a shake of your head as you hooked a leg across both of his to settle in his lap.

Chibs perked up as you sat on top of him, but not enough to remove his hands from his side.

“you’re such a baby sometimes, you know that?”

he only hummed in response, returning your kisses as you leaned in to him.

your kisses trailed across his jaw and towards his ear, your words coming out in a soft whisper.

“i see right through you Telford, but because i love you i’ll stay and take care of you”

reblogs are highly appreciated !