#Neron 'Creeper' Vargas

[bullet-prooflove]

Donna's 'Burning Down The House' Prompt Playlist

It’s that time again! The Radio prompt list!

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

Don't be a bitch,

Kiss me hard before you go

You know you gave me all that time, Well, did I give enough of mine?

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar

Shaping up and shipping out, Check me in and check me out

I forget just why I left you, I was insane

I don't feel a single thing

Sit around and get high, sippin' some white wine out the bottle

I got my red dress on tonight

So, baby, pull me closer In the back seat of your Rover

Bring me to your house and tell me "Sorry for the mess", hey, I don't mind

Found you when your heart was broke

She spreads her lovin' all over

A little bit tired of tryin' to care when I don't

I throw my phone into a lake

And I just wanna see if you feel the same as me

Well, hold on, darling This body is yours

Bite that tattoo on your shoulder

I should've worshiped her sooner

Four years, no calls

Talking like we used to do, It was always me and you

I got two hours before my flight

You're talking in your sleep

Worship in the bedroom

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

 cut through all his worn out leather

My lover's the sunlight

Heaven help a fool who falls in love

The only Heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you

Do you like walking in the rain?

You look as good as the day I met you

On lockdown, like a penitentiary

Dancin' in the dark, in the pale moonlight

And meet some young ex-wife,  We'd start a brand new life

I drink too much and that's an issue, but I'm okay

Every heartbreak makes it hard to keep the faith

This mess was yours Now your mess is mine

When you think of love, do you think of pain?

You're the reason that I feel so strong, The reason that I'm hanging on

hanging by a thread but you gotta survive

Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you

Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere

[imagineredwood]

"So, what are you gonna do?"

Request: Creeper and reader imagine finding out she's pregnant after she left him and wanting her back

Pairing: Creeper Vargas x female reader

Warnings: Arguing, breakups, hidden pregnancy, crying, angst with no comfort at least in this part

Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I'll do a part two to this, I'm just sleepy and I want to take a nap but I wanted to get this out for yall first lol What would yall like to see? Groveling? Happy ending? Should she make him sweat? Should she just understand and forgive that tensions were high? Let me know💕

"Fuck."

You cursed as you held the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hand. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not in the slightest. Life was already complicated and messy enough as it was. Things with the club were tense, the war against other charters of their own club creating an air of chaos that amplified day by day. Creep tried his best to soothe you. Take away the worry. Tell you that everything was going to be fine, you just had to wait it out. But it didn't feel that way. It seemed like every time you turned around, it was a shooting or a bombing, your nerves frazzled. It had caused a rift between the two of you. Him feeling like you nagged too much, you feeling like he only ever disregarded you. The two of you had fought significantly more than you had fucked recently and yet now here you were, already apprehensive of where the relationship would end up, now with a baby getting thrown into the mix. You'd been careful, at least you'd thought so. But luck wasn't on your side, it seemed.

Throwing down the pregnancy test into the trash, the fourth to be exact, you held your head in your hands as you sat atop the closed toilet lid. You had no idea how this was going to go. You’d mentioned kids before, sure, but you hadn’t talked about it extensively. You had no idea how he would feel about a baby right now, and all that uncertainty did was make you feel even worse. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. You would have to sit down with him tonight and establish some boundaries. Make him see that he couldn’t just placate and then disregard you anymore. It wasn’t just about you two now. There was a third life involved, and you needed to know where his head was at. It was a talk that was a long time coming, and you hoped that it would go smoothly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Enough with this shit already. Fuck!”

Creepers voice was harsh as he cursed, exasperated with you.

“Every fuckin’ day it’s the same shit with you. I get home and it’s immediately gotta be a fuckin’ war, like I don’t deal with that shit in the clubhouse. Coming home is supposed to be relaxing. I should get home and feel happy to be here, grab a beer and just shoot the shit with you, watch some TV, cuddle, something! But no, I come home and it’s a fuckin’ interrogation every night. I can’t take this shit anymore!”

You sat at the table silent, eyes welled to the brim with tears that you begged not to fall. You stared at him, feeling helpless and hopeless. You hadn’t meant to start a fight. You were just trying to get him to see that you wanted him around more. That you missed him. That you worried for him. That you needed more from him. That you needed to know that you could count on him All you’d managed to do however, was start the millionth argument of the month. You kept your voice low, half to deescalate, half to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m just trying to get you to meet me half way. I know you’re stressed, and I know you guys are struggling, I know. I just…I need to know that you’ll try to be present more. For us.”

You caught yourself with the last word, but thankfully he didn’t realize, simply thinking you meant the relationship. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, his own voice quieter when he spoke again.

"I just...I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t be out here taking you on dates every night, spending the whole weekend with you, going on getaways. I know you need me but so does the club. Hang out with the girls. Go shopping with them. Go to the movies with them. It doesn’t always need to be me. It can’t always be me. I can't balance you and the club in the way you expect me to. One keeps losing out and at the end of the day, the club comes first. I told you that in the beginning."

You stared at him blankly. Sure, he’d said that before. In the beginning before you had even really gotten serious. You had taken it as a warning that things might not move in the way that you were used to. But you were well past that, you thought. Your voice was shaky as you inquired.

“Do you still feel that way?”

He stared at you, not wanting to have to say it. But you needed to hear it. You would need to hear it directly from his mouth if you were going to have to leave; because you would leave. If he couldn’t find some way to compromise - to find it within himself not to volunteer for every single little thing and at least try to be there for you more, then there was no sense. You had put yourself through it for three years. You refused to put your child through it. If you were going to find the strength to leave, you needed to hear him say it.

“Feel what way?”

You blinked and finally managed to look at him, his chest aching at the tears in your eyes.

“That the club comes before me. That even with how much I’ve tried and begged and pleaded and supported and waited for things to get better…that you still love it more than me. More than us.”

There it was again. Us.

The Mayan groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face roughly, eyes tired and somewhat cold as they regarded you. He shrugged, tattooed arms held out to the sides.

“You knew what this was when you got with me. This is who I am. This is what you get.”

You stared at him, and finally you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They cascaded down your cheeks and you felt like you could feel your heart breaking within your chest. Because it was done. You’d asked him to make the choice, and now finally after trying to save your feelings all this time, he’d finally been honest and chosen.

And it wasn’t you.

You knew if you told him you were pregnant, it might’ve changed things. He had always bashed deadbeats. Said how important it was for kids to have their fathers around. But you also felt it pointless. If he would change, you knew for a fact it wasn’t for you. It was because of the baby. Even by giving him the gift of life, he didn’t find you important or worthy enough to change for. And who was to say that change would stick. He’d change for the moment, but would he bail out on appointments and sonograms? Would he miss the birth, too preoccupied with a deal? Miss birthdays and recitals just to carry out hits? That wouldn’t be fair. Not to you and not to the baby. You were a grown woman; you didn’t need him. Wanted him, sure. But you didn’t need him. The kid would, and it wouldn’t be fair to them. It was up to you to protect them. To give them the best life possible. And bringing them into the world with an absent father who picked and chose when to be present wasn’t something you were going to sentence your baby to. You knew firsthand how bad it felt to always come second. You wouldn’t do that to them.

So you simply nodded, standing up from your place on the sofa, tears blurring your vision.

“Well, I guess that settles that.”

You didn’t really have much else to say, at least nothing that would make a difference. You wanted to cry and scream and plead, but you’d done enough of that, and it hadn’t made much of a difference any other time. No. You would keep your dignity. With the back of your hand, you wiped away your tears and made your way to the bedroom, ignoring his voice as it spoke from behind you.

“So that’s it huh?”

You didn’t respond, only went into the closet and grabbed your duffel bag, tossing enough clothing for a few days into it. You had moved in with Neron after a year, the Mayan feeling that you would be safer if you lived with him. You had obliged, and now wished that you had kept your place. Even still, you would go out and find an apartment tomorrow if you could. It was late already, nearly one in the morning. You would stay in a hotel tonight and begin the search for a place to live tomorrow.

You were stuffing bras and panties into the bag when he entered the room silent as he stood behind you and watched for a little while unsure what to say.

“You don’t have to leave. You can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch. We can talk tomorrow when you’ve had time to calm down.”

You shook your head. He might have thought you were just being dramatic, but you knew this was what you had to do.

“Nothing to talk about. You’ve made it clear what your priorities are. I just have to come to terms with that, and I am. We’re not compatible. Better I find out now than…later.”

You force yourself to stop there, not wanting to say too much.

“OK, but it’s the middle of the night. You can’t just leave and…go where?”

“Hotel. Don’t worry about me. It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not staying here.”

He grumbled and threw his hands up, his anger flaring.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“I am.”

You made your way into the bathroom and grabbed your toiletries, tossing them into your bag as well. Chargers, phone, keys, wallet. Everything you would need these next few days. You zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, walking past him and out of the room and heading to the front door. He trailed after you, seeing that you were fully serious. Your throat and chest ached, but you refused to let him see you cry. You would wait until you pulled away.

Making your way to the front door, you slipped on your shoes, Creepers eyes on you.

“I’ll tell Steve to grab the rest of my stuff.”

That was all you gave him before you went out the front door, his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked. He said nothing as he watched you, angry but knowing to just stay quiet. He would let you take your few days to calm down and then he would sit down and talk to you when you came back.

“Text me when you get there. So I know you’re safe.”

You didn’t respond and simply closed the driver-side door behind you, pulling out of the driveway, knowing you were going to block him for at least a week so you could begin healing. You needed to start fresh. Both for yourself and for your child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s serious.”

Steve winced and nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, man. She wants me to take it to that storage place. She’ll keep it there until…”

Creeper knew the rest of the sentence. He didn’t have to say it.

“Until she finds were she’s gonna live.”

Steve nodded, hating the tension. Creeper shrugged, feigning indifference, but inside his heart was aching. He let the prospect in, silently carrying some bins with him to pack up the rest of your things. He disappeared into the room and Creeper sat down on the soda, pulling out his phone. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It had been two days, and he hadn’t heard from you. He only knew you were ok because of Steve. You’d grown close to the prospect, trusted him. You saw him like a brother, and normally Creeper was thankful for it. Now he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy. He hadn’t heard anything from you, and he knew he was blocked based of his calls and messages being prevented from going through. He knew you had been upset about the way things had been, but he hadn’t thought you would actually leave him over it. He realized now that maybe he should have been more patient, more open to compromise. It had only been two days and already the house felt cold and bleak. You’d taken the warmth away with you.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there contemplating his actions and shortcomings, but it was long enough for Steve to be done, the last bin stacked up at the door. Creeper looked at him, anger that wasn’t directed at him.

“Look after her. Make sure she’s good. Let me know if anything happens.”

The Prospect nodded quickly, remembering that you had told him the exact opposite. He would help you. You were his friend after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Steve.”

You wiped the sweat on your brow and so did the Prospect, the bins finally in your new bedroom. You were thankful for him. You wouldn’t have been able to get all of them into and out of the storage, then into the truck and into your new apartment if it weren’t for him. He’d been a godsend with this break up and you made sure to try and pay him handsomely for his help. He’d declined. So instead, you’d forced him to at least yet you pay him in fresh lemonade and soft pretzels, and he’d been inclined to concede. Now all had been brought in and you could finally start unpacking, thanks to him.

“I really appreciate you doing this more me, Steve. It means a lot. It wouldn’t taken me forever without your help. I would’ve had to get someone and I’m sure they would’ve taken all the money they could from me. I can’t thank you enough. This place will be good for us.”

The Prospect nodded, brows furrowed as he looked down at the floor.

“You keep saying ‘us’. Do you have a new boyfriend already?”

Your eyes widened, caught, but Steve interpreted your surprise as indignation. He began to backpedal immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate or anything. It’s none of my business anyway, I just noticed you said us a few times and I wondered if maybe you had found someone else and I didn’t want them to get upset that I was in here alone with you because you’re just my friend and I would never-“

“Steve.”

You silenced him with a hand and utterance of his name. You were already moved in and more or less set up. The unpacking you could do at your own pace, but the couch and bed were already assembled, the fridge on and stocked. You were good now. It didn’t matter if he found out.

“I’m pregnant.”

Steve’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes bugging as he stared at you.

“And Creep just let you leave?”

You shook your head, eyes still on the prospect.

“He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

He nodded and looked like he could pass out. You felt bad and sighed, trying to ease him.

“You don’t have to keep it a secret. I wouldn’t put that on you. You don’t have to lie or hide things for me. I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I’m just telling you the truth. That’s why it was so important for you to help me with this and why I appreciate it so much. I needed to get back on my feet.”

He nodded, understanding, and looking a little less stressed now.

“It’s ok if you tell him. It won’t change anything.”

He nodded again and you smiled, pouring him another glass of lemonade for the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s what?”

Creepers eyes were on fire as he stared at the prospect. Steve shifted uncomfortably under Creeper’s gaze, as well as the others who looked just as shocked.

“Y-yeah. She’s not too far along. Like two months or something, I think. I don’t really know.”

His voice was small as he spoke, everyone looking at Creep now.

“And she knew when she left.”

He wasn’t really asking, but Steve nodded anyway.

“She said she needed to get back on her feet. Make sure she had a placed that was safe so she could start over.”

Steve’s words were like knives, even though he knew the prospect wasn’t trying to hurt him. Hank stood and tossed an arm around his shoulders.

“You did good helping her. Let’s get a drink.”

He walked them both into the clubhouse, leaving Creep, Bishop, Angel, and EZ outside. They stared at their brother, no one talking for a while.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

Creeper stood there motionless, unable to answer Angel’s question. It was Bishop who answered for him.

“He’s gonna get it the fuck together and go get his woman back. He’s gonna apologize, say that he was a fuckin’ idiot, that he wasn’t thinking, and it was a mistake to let her go, crawl on his hands and knees if he has to, and show her that she can count on him. That they both can. Whether she takes him back or not.”

Bishop took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes staring off into the distance as he felt his heart clench as he thought about his own late child.

“He’s gonna make sure he owns up to his mistakes and spend time with her, so he can be there for his kid and watch them grow up.”

His eyes landed back on Creeper then, his gaze stern.

“That’s what he’s gonna do.”

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002

[juicesgf]

They don’t deserve you. {C.V}

This is heavily inspired by Billies song ‘Everything I wanted’

Some of the lyrics fit Creeper’s character so well in my opinion.

Warnings: none just fluff, slight angst?!

“They played it off as a joke.”

The sentence that broke Y/n’s heart in two. She sat there for a moment looking over at Creeper who was lying on the bottom of her bed staring up at the ceiling. They had been opening up too each other, feeling safe with one another.

When she had asked about his bullet wounds, he had explained and she felt horrible but him basically telling her his club didn’t care although he cared for them so fucking much hurt her.

She sat up from her spot before moving to the bottom of the bed so she could sit beside him. She looked down at him before cupping his face. “They don’t deserve you.” She murmured as a tear she didn’t know was forming fell down her cheek.

How could anyone take someone so kind for granted? Sure, Creepers done some messed up things but he’s still a person. He’s such a kind hearted soul, how could they take his pain and make it into a joke? How could they not care when he’d do anything for them?

He moved his hand so his thumb was wiping away another stray tear that fell down her cheek. “I don’t deserve you.” He admitted

“No. Don’t say that. Creeper you deserve the world, Fuck. If i could give it to you I would.” She rambled before he cut her off

“Y/n.” He paused for a moment “You don’t have to say this stuff just because I ranted to you.. I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way.”

“I’m not just saying it, Creep. I mean it. Don’t ever doubt yourself with me..I need you.” She watched the smile form on his face as he took in her words, watching the light come back in his eyes made her speak up again. “As long as I’m here no one can hurt you.” She murmured.

[dannypinot]

MAYANS MC 5.05 – I Want Nothing but Death

[ficnation]

Lying in Blood - EZ Reyes x Reader

Summary: When your husband dies you're left to mourn the life you were supposed to have. But when guilt consumes the killer, a chance at redemption opens as he steps forward to raise the child as his own.

Word count: 2,6k+

Pairing: Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; Past!Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader

Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pregnancy, pure angst

A/n: EZ might be a little OOC but who cares. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

The moment you walk into the clubhouse, the smell of smoke and leather assaults your senses. The atmosphere is smoky, the air heavy with the cigarette fog swallowing the entire room. In the background, the clicking of pool balls and the murmur of conversations can be heard, the smell and environment already making you feel a little dizzy as the door opens and shuts behind you.

You force yourself to move forward as the members of the MC raise their glasses and nod in welcome to your arrival. You greet them with a warm smile like always, then look around the room in search of your beloved’s face. You can almost see him talking with his friends in the crowd, an unopened beer bottle in his tattooed hand.

But he’s not there. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Bishop must’ve noticed the way your eyes wander around the room in search of a ghost. He stands up from his sitting place, grabs your arm, and pulls you toward one of the couches. You slump down against it, sighing heavily.

“Querida,” he starts, sitting down beside you, his arm outstretched, beckoning you closer.

You shake your head to will the dark thoughts away, then relax against his side, your cheek finding rest on his shoulder.

“Bishop,” you greet him back with a smile.

“You’ve popped,” the man notices with a chuckle, looking down at the roundness of your protruding stomach.

“Oh, definitely. I woke up one day, looked in the mirror, and thought she doubled in there,” you mumble with a huff, but there’s a lightness to your voice.

Bishop admires your strength—how you can still see the world in colors even when your life is falling apart. It baffles him. He wishes he had that kind of strength himself.

He smiles at you, pulling you just a little bit closer. “She?” he repeats, raising his brow.

You smile brightly at him, caressing the bump with gentle, loving strokes. “Yeah, it’s a little girl.”

But your smile falters ever so lightly when you think about the fact that Neron still doesn’t know that the doctors were wrong and you were going to have a little daughter instead of a son. He won’t even be there when you give birth. He’ll still be behind bars, far away from your baby girl.

Bishop notices the change in your expression and grasps your hand in his, squeezing delicately. “He’s proud of you, you know that. We’re all proud of you.”

You can only nod in response, blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes. You weren’t as strong as they all wanted you to be. You were just about to become a mom—a single mom because your husband won’t be there for most of the baby’s early years. You’ll be lucky if he gets out when she’s a teenager.

“Yeah, just wish his child was more important than the club,” you whisper under your breath, quickly regretting your words. But Bishop looks at you with understanding, no ounce of anger on his face. “Well, I actually came here looking for EZ. Is he around?”

“He’s not around. But he should be back soon. Do you wanna wait for him?” he asks, kissing the side of your forehead. “I can get you some water and keep you company.”

You stay with him, conversing to kill time as you wait for the club’s president to turn up. The older man keeps you occupied, talking a little bit about everything—how long until the baby comes, if you need help setting up the nursery, is your money situation looking okay—Bishop asks about everything in hopes the MC can make your life a little bit easier.

An hour or two passes before Ezekiel walks into the clubhouse. He looks around the room and doesn’t expect to see you there. Your presence startles him.

His eyes stare intently as you talk with Bishop, one of your hands mindlessly caressing your protruding stomach, waiting for the baby to kick. The other man hovers his hand close, ready for you to guide it so he can feel the little kick.

EZ feels the guilt—it comes up his throat and makes him nauseous. You’ve been friends for so long, and you don’t even know just how bad of a friend he was.

He ordered the murder of your husband. He took away the father of your baby—the man you loved with your whole being. He took his life and didn’t even give a second thought to how it would affect you—how much it would ruin your life.

The baby in your stomach starts kicking, so you take Bishop’s hand and press it against it. Ezekiel still stares, but he’s too far gone in his thoughts to register what’s happening.

“She’s kicking.” Your smile is bright, and it gives him a tiny bit of hope that Neron’s death won’t make you miserable for the rest of your life.

He forces his legs to move forward, swallowing the want to throw up all over the wooden floor. With a forced nervous smile, he reaches the couch.

“Is she?” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

You sit up straighter, surprised by his sudden appearance. The smile you give him is innocent—unknowing.

“Hi, EZ.”

He returns it, but it’s weak and awkward, and he’s sure you can feel just how out of place he felt in his own clubhouse.

“Hi.”

Bishop senses the sudden shift in the air. He gets up and presses a kiss to your cheek, his beard ticklish on your skin. He regards the younger man with suspicious eyes. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says finally as he leaves you with the club’s president, heading towards the exit of the building.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” you notice, patting the couch where Bishop once sat to beckon Ezekiel to take his place.

The man scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah… I was busy with the—” he’s lost in his own words as he gestures vaguely to the clubhouse, “the thing.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, definitely,” you joke, “the thing always requires attention.”

He laughs at your words, but it has a forced quality to it. The joke isn’t that funny. You know it, and he knows it too, but you wave it off, thinking he didn’t want to make the conversation more uncomfortable than it already was by giving you the details.

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “We’ve got it under control, though,” he continues, and you respond with a nod, your eyes not quite meeting his.

“Have you heard anything from Neron?”

So that’s what you came here to ask—EZ thinks. It was logical. You barely needed the MC’s help, preferring to get stuff done on your own, mainly because you didn’t want to add to their problems. You always held your head high.

“He’s been quiet for a while now,” Ezekiel tenses in his seat as the words leave your mouth.

He can almost feel the crickets playing a symphony in his head. He doesn’t know what to say or do, so he opts for a simple lie—he is getting better at them with every passing day. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Damn it.” Your sigh clenches his heart painfully. “Those cops are probably harassing him again.”

“Probably,” he agrees with you, scratching his chin for a second as he glances at your face. “You’ve heard nothing at all?”

“Nothing. He doesn’t call anymore.” The tone of your voice changes, and he can feel the heartbreak—the agony that those words render.

EZ takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “He’ll call. I’m sure he will.” A fucking liar; that’s what he is.

“I hope so. We’re so close to the birth date. I wanted him to know that.”

He doesn’t know how to reply, so he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. He was always good at lying, but why was it so hard to lie to you?

He tries to smile more warmly—look more warmly at you, but all you can see in his eyes is pity. It drives you insane.

“EZ, is there something you’re not telling me?” your voice screams suspicion. He starts to get nervous.

“No, of course not.” He looks at you hard, hoping you’ll believe his lie. It takes a moment for you to process what you see and hear before the suspicious glint falters and falls.

“Oh, okay.” you sigh in sadness. You have a feeling he knows something, but you’re not willing to push it. “He was supposed to choose the name.”

Another gentle squeeze of your hand. “He will come through. Don’t worry.”

You believe him. “You’re right. I’m probably just overthinking.”

EZ nods his head in agreement. “You’re just stressing yourself out; it’s not worth it.” There’s a pause as he kisses your temple, then speaks again, changing the topic slightly, “How have you been doing? Everything going alright with the pregnancy?”

“Yeah, we’re doing good. The nausea went away.” His still didn’t. “Now I’m just running to the bathroom every three minutes. Girl makes me wanna piss so bad.” You let out a chuckle—such a beautiful and peaceful sound. EZ feels like he could record it and play it over and over again before he falls asleep.

“That’s good… and exhausting.” He’s starting to feel more at ease again. You seem to be distracted and not noticing how oddly nervous he’s been acting, or even if you did see, you let him have the upper hand.

“It is exhausting. But we’re gonna get through it. For Neron.”

He nods in agreement. “For Neron.”

Such a beautiful betrayal.

The next time you see EZ, a few days have passed. The whole MC knows about Neron’s death, but not you—not yet. He lets you live in a state of not knowing just for a few more minutes before he knocks on your door and gives you the information that will ruin your life. Oh, wait, he did that—he ruined it by choosing to protect himself, get rid of the snitch. Snitches end up in ditches—they were right.

He raises his fist, presses the buzzer, and he can almost hear the heavy pats of your feet as you rush toward the door. You open it and greet him with a smile. You’ve looked through the Judas beforehand—smart girl.

“EZ?” That carefree smile falters as you notice the seriousness decorating his face. Your hand grips the doorknob tighter, knuckles turning pale.

EZ sighs and hangs his head. “You need to sit down.”

“What the fuck happened?” you ask, but EZ doesn’t respond.

He turns you around, closing the door before gently pushing you towards the living room and the couch in the middle. You listen to him and sit down, waiting for him to speak. Your leg bounces up and down in worry. The dark thoughts swirling in your head make you want to crawl out of your skin.

EZ cuts straight to the point. He knows you’d only get furious if he tried to tread around the issue.

“Neron’s dead,” he says simply—as if to just get the words out of his mouth. They leave a foul taste on his tongue. He’s not even looking at you because he knows already how badly he fucked up. He can hear your heart breaking into a million pieces as your brain struggles to register that information.

When it finally hits you, you gasp trembly.

“No. No, he’s not,” you try to deny his words, shaking your head furiously. Tears are already building up in your eyes, and they’re falling down in waterfalls down your cheeks before EZ can reach to wipe them away.

“I’m so fucking sorry. It’s my fault.” He sits beside you and takes your hand, raising it to his lips. He leaves a kiss on every single tip of your fingers. “I killed him. It’s all my fucking fault.”

The sobs wreck through your body like a tsunami, and you drown beneath their intensity as you cradle your bump. You don’t even hear him. You refuse to hear him.

EZ wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pushes it to rest on his chest. He can’t look at you so broken—so destroyed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His other palm rubs your back up and down in a motion that is supposed to be soothing, but it doesn’t do shit to make it hurt less. You let him comfort you, giving into his embrace as you weep and clutch the back of his kutte in tight fists.

EZ sits that way with you for a while, rubbing your back and keeping you close. He doesn’t speak, only offers his presence and affection as comfort. He knows if he opens his mouth again, he’ll admit to what he’s done—this time for real.

“How am I supposed to go on?” You sob into his chest, your whole body trembling.

EZ just holds you tighter, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. “One day at a time.”

“I’m supposed to raise our daughter on my own? That’s so fucking cruel. Why did the world take him away from me?” your words are almost muffled as you get them out through the tears and sobs.

He looks down at you, his face etched with guilt. He’s glad your head is pressed to his chest and you can’t see it. You’d put the puzzle pieces together faster than he could mutter a single word.

He rubs his thumb back and forth between your shoulder blades. “I don’t know. But you’re strong. I know you’re strong enough to get through this.”

He puts on a facade before placing a hand under your chin and lifting it so you can look him in the eye. “I know you are.”

“No, Ezekiel, I’m not. I can’t do this,” you argue, shaking your head furiously. “I want him back,” you cry out, and it breaks his heart even more. It was his fault. He did this to you.

“I know. I know.” EZ says this over and over again, rubbing circles on your back.

He stays the night, cradling you in his arms as you sob and scream. And then he stays another night and another day keeping you company and helping with daily tasks. You don’t even realize that weeks have passed, and he’s still there when you wake up and when you go to sleep.

He’s there holding your hand when your little girl is born and when she says her first word. He never left, taking on the role of being a dad figure for your child. It felt wrong, but you never stopped him, either.

You didn’t stop him when one night his lips found peace pressed against yours and when he rolled on top of you, giving you pleasure you haven’t felt for a long while. You didn’t stop him when he moved in and became a constant presence in your baby’s life. Before you even knew it, she was calling him ‘papa.’ It made your heart clench painfully.

EZ took the opportunity and treated it as his only chance at redemption. He wanted to give you the life you wanted to have with the man he took away from you.

Sometimes the guilt was too much, and he had to leave for a few days to get it back under control. But he always came back.

He was good at lying, after all—lying with his hands covered in blood. Such a beautiful betrayal.

[kikijackson-blog]

Break Down

PLZ PLZ PLZ Readers 18+ only. This one’s filthy.

*big sigh* so I originally took inspiration from Julie Robert’s Break Down Here. It completely derailed and took a life of its own.

Summary: Reader breaks up with boyfriend and drives and drives and drive until she meets a dark and dangerous man, Creeper, at a gas station.

WARNINGS: Omg everything! Language, smutty filth, Rough Sex, mentions of bodily fluids and do I need to warn about anal?

You’ve been warned. Here we go.

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

You’d been on the road for a few hours driving and it seemed like no end in sight. Your journey began two days and fifteen hundred miles ago when you’d come home from a long grueling day of work, it had been a shit day and all you wanted to do was relax and soak in a nice hot bath with a glass of wine, but fate had something else in store for you. As soon as you’d walked in you’d heard the sound coming from your bedroom and your heart sank.

You hadn’t needed visual confirmation to know what was going on in your own home, you had suspected this for a while and now you had all the confirmation you needed. Purse still over your shoulder and key in hand you took the same two step you’d taken in only in reverse and said “Fuck it.” Got in your car and just drove and kept driving hoping it would clear your mind.

You made it out of one city still angry as hell, figured you'd keep driving to the next, nope still wanna kill him. Then the next and the next and you were still just as furious. Now here you are in a whole fucking other state, the scenery starting to look all the same, you have no idea where exactly you are but all you know is you’re far away from him, starting to feel the effects of highway hypnosis and the gas gauge was leaning on the of E. You mentally kicked yourself for not filling up at the last station.

“Please don’t let me run out of gas” you pray to the steering wheel. Soft droplets of water begin to hit your windows and in less than two seconds those whispering sprinkles turn into pebbles coming down hard from the sky that had just turned dark as if the gods above were mocking you for thinking that you could possibly leave him and make it on your own. You shake your head “his gods, not mine.” 

Just when it seemed like your luck had run out you see a glimmering light of hope just up ahead. It was the first gas station you’d seen in a while. You fill up and, needing to walk around you run into the store to stock up on snacks. The jingle of bells announces your presence to the attendant and the other two shoppers there. One was paying and the other was checking out the selection of drinks.

As you make your way down the chip aisle examining each bag to see which one catches your eye you hear the sound of bells again and the voice of some loud mouth coming in. “Damn, it’s pouring like a bitch out there.” 

You look up and see a tall, thin yet muscular bald headed man walking in. He’s wearing a leather vest of sorts, you don’t pay much attention to it. What’s caught your eye is something else. His arms, those tats and those muscles. The walls of your pussy clench at the sight. It’s alarming and exciting as well. He gets a look at you and flashes a wicked smile that makes your kitty kat wanna purr. He knows he’s caught your attention and he’s loving it. Normally it would have turned you off but something about this man was different from any other. He is like a magnetic force and you can’t help but gravitate towards him.

“Those are really good.” He says pointing to the bag of flamin’ hot fries you were holding in your hands. “They’re spicy as hell but I love a little spice in my life.” He walks by you a little too close, you feel his body heat and your eyes follow him. “How about you?” Your face turns bright red and he smiles again and oh is the devil in this one.

You watch him disappear into the bathroom and contemplate between two choices: take the bag of hot fries and never look back or put the bag down and follow the devil himself. You weren’t able to make a decision fast enough for your pussy who was already slick with anticipation. No, that bitch between your legs made your choice for you. With each step you take closer to that bathroom door you feel your panties getting a little wetter and you curse yourself for not having more control over her. You can call her all the cute names you want, kitty kat, gatita, cupcake but you know damn well she’s a slut with a mind of her own and when she wants something bad, she’s gonna get it.

By the time your hand reaches the doorknob you’ve resigned yourself to your fate and the consequences of what is about to happen. You open the door and you’re greeted by a smile. “I thought you wouldn’t come.” 

“Neither did I.”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you tight to him. His lips come down hard on yours and you let out a moan he caught with his kisses. His hands travel down to your ass and he gives them a nice squeeze that makes your naughty kitty purr, she wants to be petted, she demands it so you give her what she wants and rub her against him. The hardness you meet has you leaking into your panties a little more. He chuckles, he can feel your heat and your ache and he wants nothing more than to give you what you need.

He lifts your shirt up and roughly pulls your tits out of your bra. You moan out in pleasure feeling his hands kneading at your round breasts. You feel his hands getting rougher and more desperate now pinching your hardened nipples, first one, then the other. The first one is light and more like a caress, the second pinch was a little harder and the third had you screaming. He muffles that scream with his mouth before quickly abandoning your lips for your nipples. He takes one into his mouth and suckles on it hard, there was no way he was going to be gentle with you now that he knows rough and pain gets you going. 

He thinks he knows you, he’s got your number but you surprise him when you undo his belt buckle and have him unzipped and cock out before he even realizes what’s going on. A second ago he had your nipple in his mouth and now you’re on your knees, no sweet kisses, licks or teasing of any kind, you go straight for it and take his long thick meat down your throat. 

Groaning, he says “What happened to that sweet red faced girl?” You look up at him with your nose buried in the dark curls and shrug. 

“No, you’re no sweet little girl are you?” You try to answer but your mouth is full and busy sucking and bobbing. You answer him with a little shake of your head. “No, you’re a dirty little slut aren’t you?” Your moan is all the answer he needs. He places his hands on your head and tangles them in your hair. “Then I’m gonna have to fuck you like a dirty whore.” 

He thrusts his cock deeper down your throat over and over, ignoring your gag reflexes, enjoying watching the tears stream down your cheeks. You given tons of blow jobs, it was one of your favorites things to do but never had you ever had your mouth truly fucked before and it sets your pussy on fire.

Just when you think your mouth and throat can’t take anymore abuse your drenched pussy says otherwise, she says don’t be a little bitch, you can take more. Yeah take more so he’ll fuck us. So you take more. 

Little black rivers running down your face and  a burning in your throat, drool all over your tits and the floor, you look up at him and he just smirks at you. “You’re the one that wanted this mama, now you take it like the fuckin’ cunt you are.” 

You nod your obedience. “Good girl.” He coos as he pats your head. “Good girl.” 

He thrusts for a couple more minutes before he pulls his dick out of your filthy mouth, turns you around and bends you over the toilet not even bothering to take your panties off he just pulls it to the side, a string of your slut cream attached to the fabric makes his dick twitch and he knows he needs no prep, he just rams it into you, balls deep in one stroke. You yelp as you feel the stretch of this intruder forcing it way into the depths of your hungry little snatch. And you love it, all of it, the dirty little scene, fucking a random dangerous stranger whose name you don’t even know, being bent over a public toilet adds to the filth serving only to fan your fire.

He pounds into you from behind repeatedly, each thrust more aggressive than the other and your moans do nothing but spur him on. One hand digging into the flesh of your hips, the other on your tit, squeezing the life out of it. His deep thrusts get more deliberate, faster and you can feel the build up, you feel his cock pulsing inside of you. He was ready. 

“Cum inside my filthy fuck hole.” you beg, and that was all it took. If he was trying to hold out it would be an impossibility now. Once those words were in the air there was nothing that could have stopped him from filling you up with his seed. 

Even though you'd hadn’t cum, you were more than satisfied with this fuck session. It was wild and something you’d never done, you would rank this up high at the top of your list.

You stand up straight, pussy leaking out this man jizz, and begin to adjust yourself when he pulls you back into him.

“Hey, hey, fuck you think you goin’? I ain’t done with you.”

“You’re not?” You looked puzzled. 

“Have you come yet?”

You shake your head no.

“No. Then I ain’t done with you yet.’ He sits on the toilet, “Come here.” The gorgeous bald headed man says motioning to his lap.

You obey and take a seat on his lap. He pulls your panties to the side again and slips a finger in between the folds of your glistening lips. Slowly sliding a long finger up and down your slit, ignoring your little pleasure button. You buck up against him, trying to get him where you need him, he slaps your thigh.

“No, bad girl.” He whispers, his hot breath makes your clit tingle. “Bad, bad, girl.” Increasing the pace of his finger and adding just a bit more pressure. “You know what happens to bad little girls?” His voice is sweet and gentle as he places kisses across your collarbone. 

“No.” You play along. “What happens, Daddy?”

“You don’t know?” More sweet kisses. “You wanna know?” He slides his long finger inside your thoroughly used pussy hole. Then another, slowly pumping them in and out. 

“What happens to bad little girls? I’ll show you exactly what happens.” He hooks his finger in your pussy and scoops out his cum trailing it all the way back to that forbidden hole. The one you never let anyone use before, the one your now ex boyfriend always wanted you to give him but you had always denied him. 

He traced his finger around the little puckered entrance until he felt you relax only then did he insert a finger. You feel the burn of his finger stretching you open. You feel the pain but you also feel the pleasure and you want more. Feeling the way your body moved he could tell you were enjoying it so he gave you another finger slowly fucking you with them until he felt you ready for a third. You found a new level of whore you hadn’t known was within you. You were an anal virgin and had always planned to stay that way. Maybe that’s why your ex had cheated on you. That was after all the hole he’d been fucking, at least that’s what you’d heard the bitch he’d been fucking screaming out in pleasure, but that didn’t matter anymore because here you are with this hot stranger Daddy and three fingers in you alternating between pumping and twisting and scissoring to stretch that tight hole. None of it mattered anymore because now you were going to give this man the one thing that bastard ex wanted most.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“No?” Your voice trembled with nerves, anticipation and the need to cum.

“Don’t worry baby, you're gonna love it.”

You felt his now hard again cock at your entrance. “Lift up a little baby.” You did as he said. “Spit on it, mama.” 

You look down at his dick and try to produce as much spit as you could, it isn't hard since the sight of his thick veiny meat makes your mouth water. 

“Good baby.” he aligned his dick with your asshole and without warning he pulled you down on him. You let out a scream you were sure the cashier heard. 

Still softly crying from the pleasure-pain of having been fully impaled on his larger than average dick, he kept still, letting you get used to the feel of him. He strokes your hair and makes soothing sounds to help ease your pain. Now more relaxed you slowly move your hips and work your ass on his pole. Intentional or not it’s a delicious torture that he’ll soon make you pay for. When he feels your dirty hole loosen up he begins his thrusting in and out of your asshole, grabbing onto your hips, forcing you to take him deeper. He knows you love this and it amazes you that this tall, dark and handsome stranger so easily had you pegged for the pain slut that you are. You always knew you were but never dared to attempt it with anyone, afraid that you would scare them off you settled for vanilla sex and that was not what you wanted. But not him, he knew from the moment he laid eyes on you. He’d known what you were.

“Oh my god,” you cry as you bounce on his dick. “I’m getting fuck in the ass. I’m getting fucked in the ass. I getting fuc-”

“Yeah, baby. You are.”

The thought of doing something so nasty had you so far gone that you could have shouted that out at the top of lungs and not given a fuck about who heard. Let them hear, you thought.

He slides one hand down between your legs and starts rubbing hard on your clit, the other around your mouth to keep your screams from alarming anyone.

Your ass felt so loose now, easily taking each thrust and you rode harder with each one. You could feel your orgasm approaching, you were seconds away from complete sexual bliss. He felt your body tense, knowing you were about to cum he rubs your sensitive little bead faster and leads you to the most intense orgasm you've ever had. You feel your cunt spray your pleasure into his hand and onto his balls.

He pumps into your well used asshole a few more times before you feel the sensation of his hot creamy release deep within your bowels and you couldn’t help but thank him for that.

Slowly standing, your knees wobble and he laughs while helping you keep steady. 

“I got you.” He says and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You’re such a good girl.”

“What’s your number? Maybe we can hook up again some time.” He asks.

“No names, no numbers.” You answer and then bolt out the door.

You get into your car and see him in your rear view mirror watching you leave with a smile on his face, you couldn’t help but smile back but his smile was for a completely different reason. He isn’t smiling because of what had just transpired in the bathroom no, he’s smiling because he know exactly where you’re headed and from the sounds your car’s making, you won’t make it very far once entering his town. You are going to break down and when you do he is going to make sure you’ll be his dirty little slut forever.

[ravennaortiz]

Alright here's another one. Let's go with Creeper this time. I've got a good list for him this time so let's go with the prompts:

7. Stay away from my sister. (Any of the guys would do so creative freedom for you on this one.)

20. Why?

5. I can take care of myself.

17. I love you.

32. You're mine.

30. I need you.

I don't see Creeper get requested often and this list of prompts is perfect for him! As always my stories are 18+!

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @meera10 @mama-mischief @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @kikijackson-blog

"Fuck" you muttered as you caught sight of your brother over Creepers shoulder. There was no mistaking the murderous look in his eyes as he marched towards you too.

"Hmm?" mumbled Creeper barely moving his mouth off your neck even though you were pushing him back. Before you could give any further warning your brother had his hands on Creeper yanking him back.

"Gilly!" you shouted as you grabbed at his arms. "Enough" growled Gilly as he glared at you before turning back to Creeper.

"That is my sister. How could you betray me like this?" demanded Gilly his grip on Creeper tightening. "I want you to stay away from her".

"Why would I stay away from the woman I love the most in this world?" inquired Creeper keeping his voice calm in the hopes his friend would release him some.

"Gilly let go off him" you demanded as you smacked harder at your brothers head.

"Princesa stop hitting him" chuckled Creeper. "I can take care of myself I promise" he added. You huffed but did as he requested. Gilly raised a brow at that but did let go of Creeper.

Creeper straightened him self out before turning to Gilly and speaking. "Look, I know we should have come to you months ago when this started, for that I apologize. But I won't apologize for our relationship and love".

Gilly was silent as he stared at his friend, processing the words of his friend. "Fine. I don't want to see that shit again though" he grunted before shaking Creepers hand and backing off to the other side of the clubhouse with Angel and Coco.

Creeper let out a sigh of relieve before turning to you with his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know Mi Amor, just because I have had six bullets rip through my body doesn't mean I want more. A better warning next time would be appreciated.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed and pulled him to you. "I love you too by the way" you stated before kissing him gently as your hands ran down his chest making him groan.

"Your brother was clear he was okay with me making you mine but did not want to see it" scolded Creeper as he playfully smacked your hands away making you laugh.

"Then I guess I need you to take me home and teach me a lesson so it sinks in" you replied as you winked at him.

Creeper snorted as he grabbed your hand and grabbed your bag off the table. "Away we go then" he stated before leading you to the door.

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[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

Hi and for the love of God hello 👋🏼 after going back and forth i’ve decided to try my hand at writing for the mayans boys and the sons we all know and love! Please feel free to hit up my ask box <3

Requests: Open

who i write for:

- Mayans MC

• Angel Reyes

• Ez Reyes

• Coco Cruz

• Nestor Oceteva

• Neron “Creeper” Vargas

• Bishop Losa

• Hank Loza

• Gilly Lopez

• Michael “Riz” Ariza

- Sons Of Anarchy

• Jax Teller

• Juice Ortiz

• Opie Winston

• Happy Lowman

• Herman Kozik

• Filip “Chibs” Telford

• Alexander “Tig” Trager

What i take requests for:

• Headcanons

• Preferences

• Would includes

• Most likely to’s

What i don’t take requests for:

• Smut

• Self harm of any kind - talking about the reader having a mental illness is fine but i’m not comfortable writing about them harming themselves

• Reader being related to any of the characters

• Toxic relationships - We’re all about healthy, loving relationships in this house!

any gifs used are not mine!

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 4. NERON “CREEPER” VARGAS

A/N: idea inspired by a required outing for me and encouraged by @darqchilddaydreamz 🤭 this is so unserious but not at the same time? I also don’t like how I learned to appreciate creeper after the fact? This is my first time ever writing for the man with a heart of gold. Smh. Him and Coco deserved better and in AU…Creeper & Coco would be the true besties. This is also somewhat that. Enjoy!

Synopsis: As a pizza chef you’re bound to keep your house just as stocked as your restaurant. However with a ice storm heading your way in two days…you persuade your husband, Neron to take you to the store to grab just a few extra things but soon find yourself in a battle with another shopper, who doesn’t know the first thing about personal space.

ADDED PROMPTS FROM HERE + I’m using: 3.) Shopping + 6.) “You’re really making me wear matching pajamas with you?”

WARNINGS: language + “reader” is given a name but not physically described yet I always have a black or woc in mind. + a sexual/steamy moment towards the end ;)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

What was supposed to be more of a in and out kind of thing, turned into at least a thirty minute adventure. Sure Mariatu could blame it on the tasteful playlist the grocery store was playing—currently, “let it snow,” by Boyz II Men & Brian McPetty but she’d take the blame when she got back outside to her husband.

The original plan was to run in and get five items: a pack of mineral water full of electrolytes for Neron, a pack of cocoa powder, eggs, toilet paper rolls, and disinfectant wipes.

With the way prices are in this economy?

Mariatu knew it was probably best for Neron to run in grab everything but he suddenly got a call from Coco that had to do with business—which the founded brothers always stood on—so she did the honors of slipping out. She honestly didn’t mind, shopping was always thrilling to her because she knows regardless of what she picked up—whether she needed it or not—the items would always be put to good use. Mariatu was never one to let anything go to waste, it was something her parents always instilled.

Perhaps that’s why the carriage was getting heavier as she explored every other aisle, ending up in the international section, just for some lady to eye the contents of her carriage before settling her judgmental eyes on Mariatu. Their eyes connected but one was less friendly than the other, which was enough for Mariatu to pick up the speed. The previous aisle was more of a game of “chicken,” since one boulder of a man thought the aisle was a one way, the frozen section had one of its fridges leaking onto the floor and the constant call to, “clean up aisle 21,” seemed to go unheard, and just from entering the store a mother had to excuse herself and her screaming child who thought it would be best to start knocking over one of the displays.

Those should have been enough signs for Mariatu to do what she was supposed to do. Although the upbeat Christmas music was enough motivation to just make this a speed round, Mariatu couldn’t help that she spent longer than expected; even if she had a mental list of what they needed. Soon she found herself making a circle in the store towards the organic and produce section.

Eyeing the pomegranate seeds, Mariatu makes a bee-line for the fruit. Parking her carriage upwards from herself, she picks up the container eyeing the expiration date and then the quality of the red toned fruit. From her peripheral she sees someone leaning by the front of her carriage. She thinks not much of it figuring that they’re simply looking at a item that aligns with the end of her carriage. Silently debating over the snack for a moment longer, she opts for the larger pack instead before adding it to the carriage.

Seconds after, the handle of her carriage digs harshly into her stomach as the customer pushes their hip into the end of the carriage to reach for a bag of jumbo grapes. Mariatu blinks to herself in astonishment as the man holds the bag up to the light and moves his hips to do the same movement again!

This time Mariatu yanks on the carriage and goes around the man but not without muttering, “this is how you say excuse me,” on her way as she continues on up ahead. Eyeing the bag of baby spinach, she decides against it after grabbing a few green juices not long ago and just as she goes to push away from the section, she can hear the irritating sound of a broken carriage wheel pushing behind her.

Ever since Mariatu was a little girl she had great senses. Some may call it a gift while others maybe oblivious but she’s almost always right in judging distances and sensing presences that may or may not physically be there. In this present time as Mariatu is briefly glancing from the cart to make sure she’s not forgetting something and watching where she’s going, she can feel and hear the carriage behind her getting too close for her liking. Just as she’s reaching the corner, she peers over her shoulder to the pale as ice skinned man with a beanie that barely covers his thin salt colored hair and in that moment they come to some sort of understanding.

His shoulders relax, his lips pursed, grip still strong on the handle, he seems to slow down as his eyes connect with Mariatu’s. The side-eye game was always strong and she whips her head back, ringlets of curls bouncing with her underneath her beret as she does, a satisfying smile begins to grace her lipstick painted lips while she gets ready to turn the corner.

That’s short lived as a bump of the carriage from behind pressed into her backside first, thrashing her forward, followed by the knocking wheel which clips her ankle. A yelp escapes her lips, gaining the attention of a cashier who’s handling the handicap section and Mariatu has to exhale the steam that’s probably seeping from her eardrums.

Rubbing at the stinging skin above her ankle socks in her trainers, she glares at the older man who looks sheepish at the fact that his carriage actually interacted with his target.

“What’s your problem? You bump my carriage out of the way instead of using your manners, which you clearly lack and now you wanna play bumper cars with my ankle?” Mariatu questions the man who lifts his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I needed grapes,” the man started, “you could have done what I did and placed your carriage to the right so that way you’re not blocking other items that fellow customers need.”

Mariatu scoffs in disbelief, “well I’m not you and the proper thing to do if you need to get something is say excuse me or patiently wait until I’m done.”

“Sorry…but no?”

“No?” Mariatu felt her eye twitch and just to think, she was having a pretty solid day off, considering it was only twelve in the afternoon but still!

“Yeah,” the man continued, “you’re in my way and I have places to be too. Don’t know if you know this but a ice storm is coming and I need—

“Excuse me, I don’t give two shits what you need. Everybody that’s in here needs something, so honestly you can take that entitlement and shove it up right your ass, Mr.” Mariatu stated to the man without raising her voice but her brows definitely did, which means she meant that shit, “and happy holidays.”

With that she sorta limps from the man, enjoying that she had the last say and that his presence was no longer felt as he scrambles to go to one of the other aisles instead of to the self-check out area, which Mariatu was headed to.

Mariatu braced herself heading back into the breezy sixty degree weather, slowly letting out a sigh to herself as she crossed through the parking lot. She spots Neron waiting outside of her bronco and jumps into action as he looks up in time. “Ten minutes huh?” He teases with a shake of his head as he unlocks the trunk.

She scrunches her nose at him as they maneuver around the cart, taking turns adding the bags into the back. It doesn’t take Neron long to pick up on the way Mariatu is walking different once they get down to the the last few bags. “What’s up?” He asks.

Mariatu shakes her head as Neron points at her leg, “I’ll tell you in the car.”

The hoodie wearing man dips his head and takes the task of bringing the carriage back to its spot after opening the door for Mariatu. Neron doesn’t miss a certain man looking over in his wife’s direction as Neron crosses the parking lot one more. Once he gets into the driver’s seat, it’s Neron’s turn to have his eyes in slits as the strange man starts tossing his bags into his station wagon.

“That man with the pedophile car…you know ‘em?”

Mariatu hums, looking up from her phone to follow Neron’s trail and immediately scoffs, “oh yeah, we got friendly not too long ago. That’s the man who tried to run me over after I told him he basically needs to learn some manners.”

Neron flicks his eyes to his right, “what happened?” He pressed and Mariatu has no issue giving her husband the quick rundown of what just occurred.

He’s rubbing at his lengthy beard in slight irritation but also pride. “Put your seatbelt on,” he commands and Mariatu tilts her head to the side at this.

However the hardened stare Neron shoots her way and then back out the window shield was enough for her to listen this time. The tatted man places one hand on the steering wheel, tightening his grip and sitting up straight—which was always enough indication that someone was about to float their ride…so Mariatu braced herself.

Rightfully so.

As soon as she blinked, they were across the parking lot blocking the man’s path from completely backing out from the parking space.

“Neron,” Mariatu hissed as he pressed his brimmed hat further down on his head then flung the door open, leaving it wide open as he walked in between the cars to get to the man’s driver’s side, knocking on his window.

Mariatu couldn’t exactly hear what Neron was saying to the strange man as he was crouched over, talking to him in a manner that would send a chill down anyone’s spine. Her heart rate picked up as she saw Neron reach into the rolled down window, possibly snatching the man up by the throat and then shoving him forward that his horn announced his face made contact with it.

With that Neron sniffs as he turns back to the bronco, holding a bag now as he climbs back into the driver’s seat. He plops the bag of grapes into Mariatu’s lap and says, “Poe Cramer sends his apologizes. Eat up.”

“Neron, what did you do that for? I thought I told you that I handled it.” Mariatu brings her eyes up from the fruit in her lap to the profile of her husband’s face who begins driving through the parking lot.

Neron dips his head, “and I’m proud of you, Cariño. But he assaulted you so I returned the favor. Roughed him up a bit, he’s lucky that’s all he got and that’s out of respect for my lady being somewhat a witness…that I didn’t take it further. got his name from his license—just in case you run into him again and he decides to start some more shit but I doubt it. I clocked his ass—that’s all. No harm, no foul.”

“I can’t,” Mariatu snorts resting a hand against her edges, “I love you and I don’t need you locked up before Christmas.”

“I’m just contributing to society so I know Santa would forgive me,” Neron shrugs with a slow smirk appearing on his lips.

Mariatu laughs, “Oh that’s what you want to call it?” Before kicking her ankle up and over her opposite knee to examine, “don’t know why some people get so shitty during the holiday season, especially if you didn’t do anything wrong to them! They just feel like it’s okay to take it out on strangers. Like? What you say fuck me for?”

“You don’t even gotta worry about him no more, trust me,” Neron laughs at the joke, “you good though?”

Mariatu nods reaching over to feed Neron a grape before pecking his cheek, “always with you by my side, baby.”

“Likewise,” Neron winks over at the woman he was ecstatic to call his wife, resting the palm of his hand on her thigh.

Back in the gated, yes gated! suburbs of their coastal mobile home after unloading and packing the groceries, the married couple made it their mission that today would be a easy day. They rarely had days off at the same time so Neron and Mariatu wanted to take advantage of this with Mariatu persuading Neron to go shopping today rather than putting it off for the busiest day—Saturday. Now they had the rest of the day just to be up in each others faces, spending quality time together.

She’s in the bathroom, tending to her night time skin routine, already solidifying they were in for the rest of the day, while Neron’s perched on the edge of the bed tuned into the weather channel. The bathroom door’s wide open as Neron says, “you know your pa is trying to get coco and I to come out to Wyoming, huh?”

Mariatu frowns, “that’s where he snuck off to? The hell is he doing out there?”

The woman knew exactly what her father was doing out there. He made it a mission to travel more after the lost of his wife three years ago but…Wyoming? Really? Very Kanye coded but a lot less unhinged.

“Starting a new business adventure. Plans to do something either with construction or a food truck for a rest stop…he’s weighing his options based on how those meetings go.” Neron informed, “he sounds real determined and said he’ll keep me posted while also sending his love to you.”

Neron and Johnny had their own business together that consisted of mechanics and all things restoration, computers and guns, you name it! After things went terribly south (she often found it hard at times that they both made it out alive) with the club, they figured this would be their best option and Mariatu couldn’t be more supportive of the two. In whatever way she was often confused on her father bringing up his multiple business ideas to her husband and good friend. Neron and Coco seemed quite comfortable making their roots here and not all over the place like her father commonly did.

Yet of course she understood networking being a business owner herself…she just couldn’t picture Neron or Johnny elsewhere now that they were secure here and out of the tainted Santo Padre.

Mariatu rolls her eyes at this, loving how Neron threw that in there but she knew this was true with the way her father’s brain was constantly running with ideas. He’s always been a hardworking, successful man but he also didn’t know when to slow down. He was getting older and it’s like Mariatu was always fighting to have time with him, she valued that considering the lost of her mother but perhaps this was all his way of grieving?

You tend to do that sometimes at the end of the year they say.

“Will he back for Christmas? Kwanzaa, maybe?”

Neron wouldn’t lie and he knew how important Mariatu’s relationship was with her parents, which he did not receive personally but he always had his sisters so he understood to some degree, “he didn’t say honey but I’m sure he’ll try.”

“Right,” Mariatu is quiet for some time before starting up her spin brush again for a few minutes before rinsing her face and continuing the rest of her work.

The room is thicker now with Mariatu’s inner feelings about it all but Neron knows not to push it. They were similar in that way, holding everything in but Mariatu was better in letting it out when she was ready while Neron struggled with his own issues of people not hearing him when he did speak. However he knew not to feel that way with his wife, they confided in each other countless of times and felt seen being vulnerable with each other. It’s what drove them forward through the hardships.

Neron’s not sure how long he’s dazed off but a pair of pants smack across his face, followed by a snort of laughter that belonged to no other than his wife. He blinks, gripping onto the printed pants and scowls as he eyes the same print that Mariatu is sporting. Except her’s are shorts and he gets to eye her smooth legs in them.

Licking his lips Neron rubs at his beard, fighting to keep his thoughts clean as she slips a printed long sleeve set over her camisole, “You’re really making me wear matching pajamas with you?”

“Uh huh,” Mariatu nods her head with a smile, “we’ll be cozy and cute.”

Neron mumbles, “And lookin’ like the elves on the fucken shelf.”

Mariatu cackles as Neron shakes his head in disagreement. She stands before him, resting her hands across his shoulders, massaging them while staring down into his tense but loving brown eyes. Neron doesn’t hesitate to wrap his solid tatted arms around her waist, while she gets comfortable locking her legs right around his hips so they’re face to face now.

“I think you need a little more persuading and a thank you.”

“A thank you?” Neron ponders as Mariatu nuzzles her nose against the man’s, who breathes her in.

Mariatu pecks his lips, then trails those kisses along his jaw and up to his large ear, whispering, “for always looking out for me and especially for today. Will you let me take care of you?”

She can feel Neron shudder against her and she knew that Neron just wanted to be loved in return for the love that he gave out. Mariatu had no problem providing that and the confirmation of his fingertips digging into her waist was all she needed to make their lips collide. The scratch of his beard against her chin, the weight of her clung to his body, the force of shoving him back against the sheets, scrape of her stiletto nails that greeted his skin briefly as she helped him out of his tops, kissing of his wounds that were buried beneath his tats, the trick of her tongue against the round of his raised flesh which contained a hooped piercing that always evoked a breathy moan from his lips, the teasing and pleasing to his lower region with only her mouth was enough to bring joy right out of Neron’s heart.

Mariatu took the reigns but Neron couldn’t let that slide without getting his hands on her in the way he wanted and the way they both needed as well. A shower and clean up routine later, both now sporting red festive wear, they’re lounging against the headboard together, container of pomegranate seeds placed in between them while the skies in San Didacus continue filling in with a gray haze.

Neron and Mariatu both meet each other’s eyes after the dark haired man settled on, one of his favorites, “Krampus,” (2015) after finding one of the cheesy romantic Christmas movies to be too corny for their tastes.

“Ready to keep the festive spirit going?” Neron asks, wrist draped over Mariatu’s shoulder while she curls into him, leg tossed over his torso.

Mariatu covers her yawn, “yeah I am, I don’t know about you but I don’t want any demons hunting this house, especially once some kids come along.”

“Nah, krampus don’t got nothin’ on me.” Neron tells with a grin, “he better ask Poe and check my resume.”

“I haven’t even seen that resume.”

“I’m keepin’ it that way. Like I said when we took those vows, you don’t got to worry about nothing on that end. Just the restaurant and the good parts of life that we’re building together only.” Neron reassured in which Mariatu nodded with a smile.

Neron leans forward capturing Mariatu’s lips in a brief kiss before brushing his lips against her forehead then tunes back into the movie.

One thing is true, this holiday, equally the pair hopes this season brings further blessings to their table after growing what they both went through. The little moments mean just as much as the big ones and when they frequently stare into each other’s eyes…maybe in the end they can always say that’s the best gift the universe could have ever gave them.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

Continue the rest of my~5 days of Xmas~December anthology prompts here.

[bullet-prooflove]

Thursday 'Bring the Noise' Prompt List

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

Give me grace, bury my sins

I’ve been watching you for a while

only you have shown me how to love being alive

You ain't nothing they can handle

I was told not to love him

Strike to kill, you know I will

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you Til my dying day

A winding road where strangers meet

Youll only have yourself to blame when you let everything go bad

She was sweet like honey

If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

With a single word And a gentle touch You turned a moment Into forever

Give me one kiss for the road, boy

Shattered glass 

Driving past a graveyard on a lonesome street

I was left here to die

They don't know a thing about you

You're so gorgeous 'Cause you make me feel gorgeous

When something hurts this much I know its real

If she's gonna go Well then I'm going with her

When I fold, you see the best in me The joker and the queen

Count the days I survived

There's a place for me, Somewhere we can sleep

She's mean and she's mine

All the little flowers gave me something to believe in

And I know you could fall for a thousand kings And hearts that could give you a diamond ring

She's on the tip of my tongue

You make him so god damn handsome

Can't hold me back from where I need to go

Now you can fight the feeling only for little while Until she's back in your dreams with her beautiful smile

Hidden in the pages of the New York Times at home

She's on the top of my thighs

I'm gonna live my life like I'm gonna die young

Been a couple years of living on the road

so pretty whenever you're around

Don't have to say what I'm thinking now

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

You could have my heart and I would break it for you

Its the best love Ive ever had and I dont want to let you go

I wanna see Paris, I wanna see Tokyo

Don't tell me that you didn't try and check out my bum

Weepin' in a sunlit room,

We rattle this town, we rattle this scene

Though you try to tell me that you never loved me, I know that you did, Cause you said it and you wrote it down

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

I'm gonna spend my time like tomorrow won't come

I won't regret cause you can grow flowers from where dirt used to be

I wanna be careless even if I break my bones

'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Ain't gonna stop until you win this fight

You turned into your worst fears

And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain

[shyanddreamy]

You can't save everyone

Happy Lowman x Reader | Part 1

Nights at the club were always great, but not as great as this one. This night was savage; it was pretty obvious that Sons knew how to party. Music was loud and booze was plentiful, and after another round of tequila shots, there you were, observing them with a stupid drunken smile in your face. You wasn´t sure at the beginning, when you first moved to Charming, but you like them. They were your family. Or the closest thing to a family you had ever known.

Your gaze met with Happy’s eyes, who had a croweater sitting on his lap. That woman was dynamite, she was one of the prettiest, and had made clear her preference for Happy. Even so, the passionate way she kissed his neck was not to your liking. After a few minutes of awkward eye contact, he decided to push her aside and walked towards you.

“Are you having fun?”, you asked him.

“I am”

At that time, he had his hands on your hips and his lips dangerously close to yours. You weren’t his Old Lady; not even his girl. The first time he brought you to the clubhouse, he told his brothers you were a friend. His exact words were “someone you can trust”, but your relationship was much deeper than just that.

Without saying any other word, he kissed you softly. He looked all tough, but he liked that kind of kisses. Hardly anyone would think that Happy could be delicate, but you knew it well. You swore you could have melted on his arms sometimes. But this time wasn’t one of them.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Hap”, you murmured.

“Why?”, he asked you with his raspy voice.

“That croweater had touched you everywhere by now. You even have remnants of her red lipstick on your neck”, you said as he put more distance between both. “I don’t eat leftovers”.

His grimace didn’t change at all; it was as impassive as always.

“So, I better go”, he suggested.

You didn’t answer to that. It was pointless. You wanted him to stay and enjoy the rest of the party together, talk with his brothers and the rest, have fun, drink more… But what Happy wanted was different, so you just nodded and let him go. And he left for the dorms, but not before putting an arm around the shoulders of that croweater who willingly accompanied him.

It was nothing that hadn’t happened a dozen times before. You knew him and his way of life. And maybe you weren’t much better. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t hurt anymore, but it was a bit disappointing and always left a bitter taste.

It was a long time ago when you first met Happy. Now you could say it was a funny story, more or less. Someone had killed one of his brothers in Tacoma and Happy broke into your house at night accusing you of being the murderer. Actually, it was pretty scary to see Happy in your living room with a loaded gun ready to pull the trigger after getting your confession. But you were innocent. Apparently, the offender who shot the Son was driving your car, that’s how they thought you were guilty.

“The car isn’t mine”, you assured him. “Is new. Stolen”.

“Liar”

“If I wanted to make up an excuse, I would have chosen a better one, dickhead”, you said. “Yesterday, someone tipped me off about an abandon car not far from here. My intentions were to give it a coat of paint, make a few changes, and sell it again. I need the money, that’s all. I haven’t killed anybody”.

“Who?”, he asked you. Since the beginning, you learnt that chatty wasn’t a good adjective to describe Happy.

“Who what?”

“Who told you about the car”.

Although he was deadly serious, you smirked slightly.

“I know how you guys work. You hate rats”, you warned him. “And I ain’t no rat”.

Happy was intimidating in the distance, but even more when he was near. However, you kept your chin up. He was at your home accusing you of committing a murder you haven’t done. You had nothing to be ashamed of.

“I’m gonna get out of your house with his name”, he insisted. “And it would be better for you to talk now, or we won’t chat anymore”.

“What will happen to him?”

“Not your business”

You moistened your lips and intensified your gaze, while his grew darker by the second.

“That motherfucker beat me up twice. If you promise me you’re gonna kill him, I’ll gladly tell you his name”.

You had done some business with him before, but he was a little piece of shit who was always trying to play you. World would be a better place without him.

“That’s a promise I can keep, little one.”

Happy killed the guy two days after. And it would have been the last time you would have seen him if it hadn’t been for a prospect, who decided to show up in your house more than two weeks after that meeting. Apparently, Happy had sent him to invite you to the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse on Friday night. You thought about it all week before finally deciding to go. It was a dangerous move, but bad choices in life had always made it more interesting.

When you arrived at the club not knowing what to expect, you found it crowded. A lot of booze, lots of drugs and lots of noisy drunks. You noticed Happy minutes after your entrance, but he spent almost an hour staring at you from the distance while you were drinking in the bar counter talking with the prospect. He was the one who invited you, so he was the one who had to make the first move. Until he finally did.

“You’re here”, he said as he sat in the stool next to you.

“You wanted me here”, you clarified. “Why?”

“I liked our talk”.

“The part where you threatened to kill me or the part where you threatened to harm me?”, you asked him ironically.

“All of it, I suppose”.

“So, why am I here?”, you insisted.

“Wanted to see you again”, he answered.

You smiled slightly, shook your head, and took a sip of your beer.

“If these are your best phrases to flirt, I have to say that they’re lame”.

“I don’t usually need more”.

You gave him a look, but he was completely confident. And strange as it may seem, it worked. That tough appearance, his mysticism and those black eyes that seemed capable of knowing what you were thinking actually worked.

You spent a few hours in the clubhouse barely talking, drinking, smoking, and watching the stupid things drunks usually do. It was an unpredictable night, but it was a good one. And when he offered to drive you home, when you got there, you let him in.

“That thing your brother asked you. What he called me”, you said, unable to remember the word. “He asked you if I were a new…”

“Croweater”, he answered.

“What does it mean?”

“The chicks who are always around the club. To serve us some drinks. To hook up”, he briefly explained to you. “That’s a croweater”.

“I’m not a croweater”, you assured him completely serious. In response, he reduced the distance between both and brought his hand to the back of your neck with a softness you weren’t expecting from him.

“I know.”

That was the first night you spent together, but it was far from being the last. From that day on, you started seeing each other almost weekly. He would come to your house at night, you would fuck, and he would leave in the morning. Maybe it was because the sex was great, maybe it was something else. There was not much talk, but eventually –and just sometimes– you shared something more about yourselves and your lives. It could be just a stupid story from your childhood or a dream from last night, but it was nice. It felt right. Nevertheless, after a few months with that routine, Happy announced you one day that he was going nomad, which meant he was leaving Tacoma.

“First time I saw you, I thought you were dangerous”, you confessed to him on his last night, both naked on the bed. You were outlining his tattoos with your fingertips. The truth was that you felt safe with him. Your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beats, his arms around you, his calm breathing… You would miss it. “And I know you are dangerous, but it’s not the kind of danger I imagined. You are fucking addictive, Happy.”

When his lips kissed your head affectionately, you closed your eyes trying to feel as much as you could now, so you could remember it once he was gone.

“I understand the feeling. I feel it too.”

For long weeks, you didn’t hear anything from him. It was as if he had vanished. And it was awful. It was until one day Happy called you to say he had two days off and suggested you spend them together. Obviously, you accepted it. You couldn’t refuse that offer. When he left again, the pain came back, but that time something changed. After those days, he started calling you more often. The calls were sporadic and brief. He didn´t talk much in person, so he didn’t on the phone either. But hearing his voice was enough for your sad soul. Anyways, they were always the same three questions: “how are you going?”, “are you safe?”, and “haven’t you killed anybody yet?” He never said “I miss you” or anything like that, but you knew he did. Words weren’t necessary.

Perhaps he had his reasons, but came the moment when he announced to you that he was no longer wanted to be a nomad. Instead, he was moving to Charming. And surprisingly, he asked you to go with him. It was an easy decision to take, as there was nothing special to stay in Tacoma for.

“I want to know why you want me to go there. With you”, you told him the day he knocked on your door with that proposition.

“I’m going to be there. And I want you to be there with me too. That’s all.”

“I don’t get it, Happy”, you insisted. “I don’t get anything that’s going on between us. We've been doing this, whatever this is, for a long time.”

Happy tensed his jaw. He knew as well as you that it was strange, but you have never had that conversation.

“I like having you around. Spending time with you. And I don’t want it to end”, he responded. Happy wasn’t the kind of man who was good at expressing his feelings, but this time he seemed genuine. “I want to keep you close. Know that you’re safe. And you're always gonna be safe with me”.

At his words, you felt your hearth melt.

“It’s crazy, Hap. Where am I gonna live? I don’t have enough money to move at the moment.”

“I’ve already got a house there”, he said. “And you’ll have your own dorm. We can share the rent. That way's cheaper”.

“Always thinking about ways to spend the less amount of money”, you smirked as you walked towards him and put your arms around his neck. “The money is your only reason? Is not because you want to be able to fuck me more often?”

Although he curved the corners of his mouth into a mischievous smile, Happy just shrugged his shoulders.

“Moving together is a big step. It could be kind of scary”, you murmured against his lips.

“I’ve seen a lot of scary things in my life. This is not going to scare me, Y/N.”

That’s how you ended up in Charming. And unlike when you were in Tacoma, in Charming you spent a lot more time with the Sons. Almost every afternoon and every night you were in the club, with them, and it was perfect. At least it was perfect at the beginning. As time goes by, the coexistence became more difficult, adding the fact that the dark times were harder than you might have expected. Every time Happy left, you didn’t know if he would come back. And when he was there, he wanted to be with you as soon as bang any random chick. Waiting worried for his life only to see him go into the arms of a croweater on his return was harsh. But you got used to it.

The problem was that now you were in what seemed to be a long period of peace. And without more fights and deaths, you had begun to hope something else. Something more. You weren't sure of what it was, but there were things that were wrong. It no longer felt right.

After several unsuccessful attempts to keep the fun going, you decided it would be better for you to go home. Unfortunately, Chibs noticed your intentions.

“Going home already?”, he asked you. “Thought you were going to wait for Happy.”

“I don’t mind walking home.”

“You’re alright, lass?”, he insisted. Chibs was too perceptive sometimes.

“Don’t know”, you muttered with a little sad smile. “I need to think”.

“I’ll tell Happy you left”, he nodded. “Keep yourself out of trouble.”

“As always, Pres.”

In your way home, once everything around you were in complete silence, you tried to rethink about what had happened tonight. But this time, you tried to be completely honest with yourself. And the truth was that you couldn’t bear it anymore. You were tired and stagnant. Life was too short, even more when you were in the outlaw world. Maybe it was time for a change.

*

As someone entered in your dorm, you opened your eyes.

“Didn’t want to wake you up”, Happy said.

“It’s okay”, you sighed.

“Can I come in?”

“You never ask for permission.”

“You never go home without me”, he answered back. However, he decided to walk towards the bed and lie next to you in the space you had already made for him.

Having two bedrooms, you didn’t always sleep together, but Happy used to enter in your room even if it was only to spend some minutes in there with you. You loved that habit as much as you loved to embrace him and lay your head on his chest. Nevertheless, this time you stayed in the same position you were before.

“What time is it?”

“Midday”, he replied.

“Have you come back now?”

“A while ago. I've taken a shower before.”

“I’m glad you don’t stain my sheets with red lipstick.”

You heard Happy sigh, but he didn’t answer. You understood that dialogue wasn’t his thing, but sometimes his silence was exasperating.

 “I think I need to go.”

“Where?”, he asked you.

“Don’t know. Far from Charming”

“Why? And for what?”

“Stop with the fucking questions”, you complained. “I just need to go. I can’t stay here anymore”.

“Are you running away from me?”

Listening those words from his mouth was painful, so you needed a few seconds to calm down before you turned on the bed to look at him. His eyes were fixed on yours as if he wasn’t able to look at anything else.

“I don’t want to run away from you, but I need it”.

“That makes no sense”.

“It makes sense for me”.

“Is because that hoe? Are you mad at me?”, he asked, frowned.

You took your hand to his face, caressing his cheek softly, but his expression did not relax in the slightest.

“You are the most valuable thing I have in my life, Happy, and I’m glad you let me into your life and spend so much time with you. But lately things have changed. I need to leave Charming and clarify my ideas. And then I’ll come back”.

“Or maybe you never do it”, he retorted.

You felt the tears in your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back.

“I love you in a way you can’t reciprocate. And it’s okay. I’m not mad at you for that. But every time I realize you don’t feel the same… It’s killing me, Happy. And I don’t want to end up dead inside.”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, he wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to his chest like most mornings. And once again, there were no words from him. You decided to caress his abdomen while his fingers caressed your body with tenderness. You would have stayed in this exact moment forever, but it was just a fantasy.

“I have to go to Santo Padre in two days”, he announced. From time to time, he went there for club business. “You can come with me. Maybe the travel is good for you. We can talk more. Spend more time together. Just us”.

“Okay. I’ll think about it”.

*

The club wasn't worried about the fact that you were going to Santo Padre with Happy. They trusted him with their lives, so they asked no questions about his decision to take you with him this time. So, with just a backpack as your baggage, you got into the van and started your journey.

In a normal situation, you wouldn’t have talked much unless you tried to engage in conversation. But this time, you didn’t. Actually, you didn’t even know what to say. Anyway, the conversation was light and trivial. It did not escape your notice that Happy was more talkative than usual. Maybe he was doing an effort.

After hours of travelling, you arrived at Santo Padre, Mayans’ territory. They were waiting for Happy in their clubhouse, so there was where you went. You felt some gazes on you as you got out of the van, but it could be just curiosity given that it was strange for them to see Happy with feminine company while he was doing business.

The right thing would be to wait until Happy was done at a prudent distance, but your bladder was full by then, so your only option was to ask them as politely as you could if you could go inside to use the bathroom. You knew they do trust Happy when they let you into the clubhouse alone, without one of them keeping an eye on you. Or maybe they could tell by your face that you really needed to go to the bathroom urgently. Unfortunately, when you opened the door, you found out that someone was already in there.

“Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry”, you said, half-closing the door again in a rush. “Can you just hurry? If not, I think I’m gonna make a mess and I don’t…”

You couldn’t end the phrase before the Mayan who was inside came out of the bathroom, letting the place completely free for you. You saw his smile, as if he was ready to laugh at your desperation or to make an ironic remark, but you didn’t have time for that either. So, as soon as you crossed the door, you closed it in his face.

“Fucking Happy”, you growled. You had told him that you needed to stop somewhere for a toilet break, but he had insisted that you were almost there. Of course, that wasn´t true at all.

Once you left the clubhouse, relieved, you decided to wait near the van until their man talk ended. It only took about ten minutes more before Happy shook hands with the Mayans Pres.

“We’re ready to go”, he said to you.

“Can you drop me off in the city centre?”, you asked him, but Happy frowned in confusion.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ve never told you that”, you answered.

“But I thought… We are far from Charming. That’s what you wanted”.

“It is not what I wanted. I need to take a time for myself. I already explained you that”.

Happy tensed his jaw, but he added nothing more. So, assuming that the conversation was over, you threw away the cigarette and went inside the van again. Happy hesitated, but in last instance, he approached again to Mayans Pres and VP, who had been watching you still outside their clubhouse.

“I have to ask you a personal favour, Bish”, he told him. Even though from your position you could not hear him, you had a good idea of what he was saying. “She’s gonna stay here for a while, in the city. I would appreciate if you could keep an eye on her. Just in case”.

“Ok. No problem”, Bishop answered. However, he was a little confused. He wasn´t expecting Happy to be dealing with that kind of things.

As Happy got into the driver’s seat, you glanced over him with your arms crossed.

“I can take care of myself”, you mumbled.

“I know.”

The short drive was in completely silence, but this time, it was an awkward one. However, it was impossible for you decipher what Happy was thinking. And once he stopped the van again where you had asked him, you knew this was it.

“I should go now, I guess”, you said, but Happy did not open his mouth. He even refused to look at you. You weren’t expecting one last kiss or a deep conversation, but at least a goodbye would have been nice. “Take care, Happy”.

As soon as you opened the door, his hand caught your forearm. Every single muscle of his body was tense, and his gaze was more intense than ever before.

“Call me”, he simply said. “If you need something. Anything. Just call me”.

“Okay. I’ll do it”, you assured him softly.

You took the hand that was grabbing your arm with yours and kissed his knuckles lovingly. It was hard for you as well, especially as you had not been separated for a long time, but it was for the best. You couldn’t say what would happen or when you would see each other again, so it was better to not say anything at all. With a last brief smiled, you left the car.

→ Part 2

[drabbles-mc]

Something Good

Creeper Vargas x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: smell

Word Count: 200

A/N: i love all the MC boys of course of course but there is something just sooooooo!!!! about Creeper 🥰

The smell washed over you as soon as you stepped through the door getting home, and instantly you felt your entire body relax. There was always something so comforting about coming home to find that Neron had already started making dinner.

Toeing off your boots at the door, you dropped your bag beside them shortly thereafter before making a direct line to the kitchen. He was leaning over the pot on the stove, watching it carefully. With a smile on your face, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle.

“What’d you make me?” you asked with a soft laugh.

He chuckled as you hooked your chin over his shoulder. He placed one hand over yours that were interlocked over his stomach. “Somethin’ good.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt. “That’s what you always say.”

“Yeah,” he reached with his other hand to grab the spoon, stirring the pot, “and have I ever lied?”

You paused longer than necessary before answering just to get a rise out of him, and it worked as he turned to look at you. It was only then that you laughed, giving in. “No, you haven’t.”

[mysoulisasunflower]

Michael 'Riz' Ariza & Neron 'Creeper' Vargas

Mayans MC | 1.5 "Uch/Opossum"

[ficnation]

Shadow of a Broken Heart - EZ Reyes x Reader

Summary: Losing someone you love exposes the darkest side of what your friend is capable of. A broken heart opens a path for a twisted mind.

Word count: 1,4k+

Pairing: Platonic! Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; mentioned! Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader

Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pure angst

A/n: Another angsty piece for EZ because I’m never forgiving him for what he did to Neron. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

A tense and heated silence fills the vehicle, your breathing deep and steady as you stare at the trailer ahead. Your knuckles are tight and white, your grip on the gun firm. With each breath, the weight of your grief and your need for vengeance grows, fueling your resolve.

You won’t let your loved one’s death go unpunished; EZ is going to pay the ultimate price for taking away his life. He’s going to die at the hands of his own friend, feeling betrayed just like Neron did. There was no way you’d let him go out easily after what he’s done.

As you let out a deep breath, your grip on the gun tightens even more. Your eyes are locked on your target’s home. Your mind is a vortex of emotions and thoughts—the sound of your heartbeat is deafening.

The tension is palpable as you wait, steeling yourself for the moment ahead. You are ready. You are prepared to carry out your vengeance, hoping for the sweet release of the overwhelming weight of your grief and anger that have been crushing you for the past few weeks.

You make sure the safety is on before you stick the gun beneath the waistband of your jeans. While it is still concealed, you can feel it pressed against your spine, the cold, metallic sensation of the firearm sending a chill down your spine.

Your heart is still pounding, your body tensing at every tiny sound, each muscle coiled and ready to strike. But your mind is calm and focused, determined to do what you came here for.

You jump out of the car, and your boots hit the dry earth below with a dull thud. The cool night air is a slight relief from your hot, boiling emotions. You straighten up as you leave the door open, afraid of making too much noise.

You reach the trailer, hesitating for a moment as your raised fist hovers over the plastic surface of the door. You stop your racing mind and bring your hand down, knocking gently.

The knock, even so quiet, reverberates throughout the night on the quiet street as you stand motionless, waiting to see if anyone will open the door—if your thirst for EZ’s blood will be satisfied.

You all but exhale when you hear the creaking of the floor inside. The steps get closer and closer then finally, Ezekiel Reyes inches the door open, peeking through the small gap.

You play the game and drop your shoulders with a defeated shrug. The bags under your eyes and the sadness of your frown are convincing enough for EZ to open the door fully. You force your eyes to tear up just like you did when you were a kid and your mom didn’t want to buy you ice cream. It looks real—believable.

The man you once considered a brother steps aside to let you in. He closes the plastic door as you look around the trailer. You knew beforehand Sofie had received an emergency call from her coworker asking for her assistance on the night shift. You were glad you bumped into Bottles, and he let the information slip.

You sit on the bed and put your head in your hands—elbows digging into the flesh of your thighs as you fake a sniffle. “I miss him so much, EZ. I don’t think I can go on much longer,” you mumble out, your voice breaking slightly.

You are amazed at just how good you’re at this because the dark-eyed man squats in front of you without a second thought. He places his large hands on your knees as he tries to look you in the eyes. You want to dig his eyes out and leave them hanging out of the sockets just by the nerves.

“I know it’s painful,” he says softly, and you let him guide your arms down. His skin touching yours makes you want to spit in his face.

“I’m like a fucking shadow without him. A shadow of a broken heart.” You clench your eyes shut as you let the tears spill down your cheeks, the black mascara leaving traces on your skin. “I’m nothing without him. I don’t know who I am or what I am supposed to do,” you sob, the words sound almost choked out. You’re telling the truth this time; you don’t even have to force it—the words spilling out of your mouth, the pain behind them, honest.

He hushes you, bringing your hands to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles in hopes of soothing you. You look into his eyes, searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of reason behind the betrayal. You’re desperate to find a tiny piece of remorse or guilt in them. But you know eyes can only say so much. His dark irises give away nothing, his gaze cold and indifferent—devoid of the warmth and patience he pretends to hold for you, lacking the Reyes’ love you had once come to know.

Your heart sinks, and you suddenly understand the truth. Your “friend” is no longer the person you once knew and trusted. He’s not the sweet prospect that always listened to your ramblings when you visited the clubhouse. He’s not the man that spent days with you just because Neron was sent on a long mission and you were drowning in worry.

You don’t know this man who kneels before you now and pretends to be your friend. He became a completely different person, someone that you can no longer trust or rely on. It is a devastating reality, and the pain of betrayal cuts even deeper into your heart—it claws at it and leaves marks that’ll never heal.

You know he doesn’t even slightly feel threatened by your presence. If he had reservations when he opened the door, they evaporated just as quick as you stepped foot into the trailer. You were just a woman, a creature smaller and weaker than a man like him. There was nothing about you that screamed danger. He allowed himself to drop his guard down—a mistake he’ll pay for.

“Don’t give up. One day you’ll wake up, and it won’t hurt anymore. You’re gonna get through it.” As your name leaves his lips after his empty promise—you almost shudder. He stands up and kisses the crown of your head—the nausea his touch draws out of you keeps growing. “Do you want to stay at the clubhouse tonight? I can keep you company. Maybe we can finish a bottle of tequila like in the good old days,” he offers.

You want to believe he’s genuine so badly. You want Neron back. You want your friend—the good version of Ezekiel Reyes—back. But deep down, you know you already made peace with the fact that it’ll never happen, that it’s time to say goodbye to both of them before they’ll drag you down with them.

You agree with a simple nod of your head and let EZ pull you to your feet and out of the trailer. He walks ahead, spinning the keys to the clubhouse in his fingers as he whistles a tune under his nose. You follow him, heart palpitating. You have to do it now, or you’ll lose your bravery.

Ezekiel looks back at you when you reach the door to the clubhouse, his eyes studying you. For a second, a fear pops into your head that maybe he’s well aware of the plan you made up in your head, and he’s just toying with you, but it disappears instantly when the man turns away and jabs the key into the keyhole.

You don’t wait. You pull the gun out of your waistband and stand behind him, raising it to his head. Your fingers pop the safety off, and you watch as EZ freezes, his shoulders tensing.

“You were like a family to me,” you mumble out, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes. You know if you give him a few more minutes, the shock will wear off, and he’ll overpower you in an instant, slapping the gun straight out of your hands. “I hope Neron doesn’t give you a second of peace down there, you lying piece of rat shit.”

Your fingers are steady as you pull the trigger. The shot reverberates through the night as the blood and brain tissue splatter on your face. The man in front of you takes his last breath as he falls face-first onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. You kick him in the ass for good measure before you turn away and jump down the steps, leaving him on the doorstep of his beloved club. When his brothers find his body the next morning, you’ll be long gone, somewhere far away from Santo Padre.

You don’t feel the sweet relief you hoped for.

[broiderie]

Curiosity...

Alright Mayans M.C. fans. Here's my question. Who do you think is the worst villain in the show? Which person just... pisses you off by coming on screen. I know mine. Just wondering how close I am with everyone else's ideas.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Gentle Kind Of Love Masterlist

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a gentle kind of love.

Mayans MC Masterlist

Contains: Fluff, angst, longing, pining and yearning, Angel being a shit-stirrer, Manny being dumb, cats, violence, mentions of drugs and drug addiction, shooting and death, Canche, smut. There will be more, and I'll do my best to tag chapter by chapter, please don't hesitate to tell me if I've missed something.

More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is. Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical/forensic💉 Triggering material🚩

You and Coco meet overseas when you are doing aid work. When you move to Santo Padre to settle down, your life changes forever when you and Manny strike up a friendship.

Part One - Oh Hello❤❤😨

Part Two - There's Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere.😨❤❤

Part Three - Been Known in is Aching😨❤😨❤

Part Four - On Yearning❤😨😨

Part Five - Like Real People Do😨❤😨❤

Part Six - I Adore You😨❤💦

Epilogue - Fell in Love with the Fire Long Ago❤💦❤💦