#Nestor Oceteva X Black Reader

[bullet-prooflove]

Galindo!Series - Part Three: Ashes to Ashes - Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @fanfic-n-tabulous @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away @thekirbishow

Galindo!Series

Part One: Weakness - Miguel returns to Nestor’s life.

Part Two: Revelations - You reveal the truth to Miguel.

Nestor’s waiting for you when you step outside the house that Miguel has been living in. He’s leaning against his bike, in a black leather jacket, his arms crossed over his chest. When he lifts his head to meet your gaze, you see the sorrow in him, the grief. He knows what you were coming here to do, you didn’t hide that from him, but it still hurts.

This thing with Miguel was bigger than just the two of you, it’s bigger than Emily and Cristobal. You know that if either you or Nestor had buckled under that threat then Miguel would have had his hooks in the network. If that had happened, he would have used it to courier his drugs, his people, his guns. All the good work you’ve been doing would have died along with the two of you.

“He had an email queued up to go out at 9am.” You tell him as you lean back against the seat of the motorcycle. “I’m sorry Nes, but it had both of our information on it. He was going to send it out anyway. It didn’t matter if we helped him or not.”

Nestor sighs, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck.

“I wish I could say I expected something different.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a minute before you tuck your hands into the pockets of your quilted jacket. It’s taken years for Nestor to realise the depths of Miguel’s manipulation, how every single gesture just another way of securing his loyalty.

“It’s a relief.” Nestor says finally, tilting his head to look at you. “It feels like I can breathe for the first time in years.”

“I thought you’d hate me.” You say quietly, kicking at the gravel of the driveway with the toe of your boot.

“No.” Nestor says, reaching for you. He cradles your face between your hands, his thumbs ghosting over your cheeks as his nose trails along yours. “I’m not brave like you; I’ve never been able to slay my monsters.”

“You face yours instead.” You remind him as you look into his eyes. “It’s what you’ve done your whole life, you face everything head on.”

“Except this.” He tells you, his lips brushing over the corner of your mouth. “I can’t help you with this.”

“I know.” You whisper as you hear Coco’s car pulling up behind yours. “And it’s ok, Coco and I will take care of everything.”

***

You cremate Miguel’s body, Coco’s wife Stitches has a hook up at the funeral home that allows you to use the cremator off the books. The whole process takes six hours. Nestor picks you up along with the coffee can full of ashes outside of the funeral home before you begin the trip to Maine.

It takes over forty-eight hours to get to the home you relocated Emily to. You split the driving between you, staying in roadside motels and leaving Miguel’s ashes tucked in the footwell behind the passenger seat.

Emily’s already waiting for you on the porch with Cristobel when you pull the car into the driveway. She raises to her feet, waving with one hand and you see no sign of the woman you met back then. The one who had been so gaunt and wrecked from living under the weight of Miguel’s misdeeds.

You spend the next couple of hours playing with Cristobal in the garden whilst Emily and Nestor talk in the kitchen. They haven’t seen each other since Miguel fired Nestor over his relationship with you, you’ve always wondered what he told Emily about the dismissal.  

It’s Nestor’s turn to drive when you climb back inside the car. He doesn’t turn on the engine, instead he just sits there with his hands on the wheel staring at the house. You can see the Emily and Cristobal through the window, the little boy smiling as he takes a cookie from the plate on the table.

“She says she’s going to scatter him out by the lake.” He tells you. “She’d prefer to flush him, but she thinks it’s important for Cristobal to get closure.”

“She’s not wrong sadly.” You say as you draw your seatbelt across your body. “He deserves a lot worse.”

Nestor sighs, the back of his head coming to rest against the seat.

“He did so much damage...” He says quietly, his gaze comes to rest on the family before you. “I think about that all the time, my complicity in it. I don’t think I’ll ever be free.”

“You’re making up for it now.” You remind him as you study the profile of his face. “The work we’re doing, it counters the balance. We’re putting some good back into the world, helping people.”

“I’m not sure that it’s enough.” Nestor says softly as he thinks about all the shit he’s done over the years. “I’m not sure any of it is.”  

“Then we do it until it is.” You say, taking his hand in yours. “We keep chipping at it a little at a time until it makes a difference.”

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

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[garbinge]

Commission Job

Nestor Oceteva x F!Galindo!Reader

Day 19 from these April Prompts: A Commission Job

Summary: Part 2 to Minimum Wage, but can be read as a standalone. After Miguel orders a hit on Nestor, he comes crashing at your doorstep. 

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Angsty af. Mentions of blood, killing, death, murder, all canon level thangggs ya know. 

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

Part 1​

You wished you ignored the doorbell and the persistent knocking. That was the lie you were telling yourself as the two parts of your brain argued against each other on what to do with the disheveled man at your doorstep. The part of you who had been living in this small town under a new name with no ties to your old life was fighting with the other part of your brain that hadn’t been functional in years… the Galindo in you. 

The initial shock of seeing Nestor bruised and bloody on your doorstep was gone in seconds. You didn’t ask questions, you just brought him inside and into the coat closet. 

“Wrong house!” You called out to the company you had over that was currently in the kitchen halfway through dinner as you shoved Nestor into the closet and shut the door. He didn’t say anything either, he just followed your suit. 

“You know, I’m not feeling so hot.” You made your way back to your kitchen bar and made a scrunched up face. “Getting up made me realize I’m feeling kind of blah.” You were easily falling into the lie, your Galindo traits rising back up from the ashes. 

Your date was making their way down the hallway, disappointment all over their face as they did whatever they could to change your mind. Little did they know that the half broken man in your closet was not going to make that happen. 

After your company left you moved immediately to the closet and opened the door to see Nestor sitting on the cubbies you had as storage. 

“You think you can make it to the bathroom? It’s upstairs.” You would ask questions later, but right now you were prioritizing. 

“Yea.” His voice was rough and more raspy than normal but it brought your heart up to your throat. Seeing him caused you to go into reaction mode but hearing him speak for the first time caused you to want to throw up. 

You brought your arm around his torso and his arm instinctually went around your shoulder as you trudged upstairs. Luckily, it wasn’t many steps before you were in the bathroom. It was obvious that he wasn’t putting all his weight on you but once he was seated on the closed lid toilet you could see his body collapsed in exhaustion. 

Black eye, deep scratch over his cheek bone, probably some broken ribs from the way he was limping. That was the bulk of the damage you were able to clock by looking at him. With a deep breath you opened the cabinets below the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. 

“I’m gonna need you to lift your shirt up.” 

Nestor obliged, it was then that you realized he wasn’t in his normal outfit of a button up and slacks but a t-shirt and jeans. You frowned but quickly moved to look at the bruising and cuts on his abdomen. 

“Great, more open wounds.” You mumbled as you bent down to clean up the dried blood around the cuts. You both sat in silence for a while as you cleaned up the cuts and gave Nestor a cold washcloth to hold against the bruising until you could go downstairs and grab an ice pack. 

“You need stitches.” You pointed to his face as you sat on the edge of your tub. “I don’t have the tools for that but I can give you a butterfly bandage.” Your voice was monotone as you spoke.

“That’s fine.” His voice still deep and raspy. 

With a nod you were leaning over him and grabbing the bandage from the kit and applying it to his face. His breath was hot against your face as you got close to adjust the open cut with the bandage. Quick to move back you looked back down at his ribs. 

“Let me get you an ice pack.” 

Before he could say anything you were up and out of the bathroom and picking up your pace down the stairs. It was an opportunity to truly ask yourself what the fuck was happening. It had been years since you saw Nestor. Suddenly everything was hitting you. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? Who beat him up this bad? Why didn’t he go to Miguel? Did Miguel know where you were? 

It was overwhelming to say the least, you started to get angry but then you thought about Nestor’s helpless being upstairs and it disappeared instantly. The only way you knew you were going to get answers was to ask him, and if things were even remotely the same as they were years ago, you knew that wasn’t a guarantee either, but you had to try. 

As you walked back to the bathroom you saw Nestor struggling to stand up. 

“Woah, what are you–” Your feet moved quickly on the bathroom tile and before you could finish your statement he was collapsing into your arms taking the wind out of you. “C’mon, sit back down.” A large groan came from the both of you as you took on his full body weight now and attempted to place him back down on the toilet. The pain from his injuries and your shitty attempt to placing him carefully back down causing him to react in agony. 

“Take this.” The medicine cabinet was opening as you shuffled through your things and pulled out an old prescription of some pain medicine. You handed him two pills and filled up a dixie cup with water after he tossed them in his mouth. 

You stared down at him, your mind finding itself back in that same place it was downstairs. 

“I need something.” 

Those were the words you decided to lead with. Not what the fuck is happening. Not what the fuck is going on. No. You decided that you’d go into this the way you knew worked best with Nestor. Meeting him at his own place of comfort. It wasn’t fair, he came to your house, which was still unclear how, but he was the one barely able to stand in your bathroom right now so, sure, you’d give him a break. 

“Mikey has a hit out on me.” 

Now you were the one barely able to stand. You stabled yourself by gripping the bathroom counter. 

“Come again?” You frowned. It was shocking to hear Nestor so easily give up information and to hear THAT information was cause enough for you to feel like you were going to throw up. 

“Your brother hired someone to kill me. A commissioned job.” He said it again, this time more explanatory and it only made your stomach pit tighten more. 

“Wh– Uh– How?” You started to stutter, you weren’t able to take in that information. You prided yourself on your ability to take in all sorts of information, coming from the Galindo family where your father and brother lied and killed and manipulated, nothing came as a shock to you. For God’s sakes the braided man in front of you knocked on your door, that he shouldn’t have known about, bloodied and bruised and you brought him in with no words or question. But this? This was unexpected. 

“Your mom. She’s dead. He, uh, isn’t doing too good. He killed Paco. Right in front of me. In front of Marcus.” Nestor’s voice was rattled. It was how you knew that this wasn’t a normal situation, not that Nestor telling you your brother put a hit on him was normal but you were searching for anything right now. 

“Marcus?” You questioned completely ignoring the part about your mother, your voice just as rattled as his. 

“Consejero.” Nestor let out a deep breath as he remembered you had no idea about anything. 

“Nestor, what the fuck is going on.” The rattled tone changed to desperate and before he answered you heard a knock at your door. It was firm and loud, and it matched your heart beat. 

Nestor was standing up like none of his injuries existed, if you were thinking logically, you would have chalked it up to adrenaline but right now you just felt your whole life crashing down on you. 

So many thoughts in such little time. You didn’t ask for this. Nestor came to your doorstep and now you were dealing with the aftermath of that. You’d kill Miguel. Galindo habits die hard, but your will to protect yourself from them would go down harder. Nestor was quick to grab the gun from under the bathroom sink that he probably clocked earlier but like you said, Galindo habits die hard and he knew you probably had one stored in each room of the house. 

He was making his way down the stairs, way faster than when he arrived. He peaked through the peep hole and immediately his shoulders relaxed and he opened the door, quick to fall back on the steps. 

Now, there was a stoic tall man in a button up t-shirt and slacks standing in your foyer as Nestor laid collapsed on the bottom step and you at the very top staring down to both men. 

“Marcus.” Nestor pointed to Marcus in his way of introducing you. 

“I’d say nice to meet you but this is fucked.” You made your way down the stairs to grab the gun from Nestor and situate him in a better position. “I’ll be taking this for now.” You put the safety back on and placed the gun in your back waistband before picking Nestor up against the wall. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on and how the fuck you knew where I was?” It was essentially two questions, one was pointed at Marcus and one was pointed at Nestor. 

“I’m sorry to barge into your home like this.” Marcus said like it was the beginning to an explanation but just looked at Nestor to respond. 

“She knows.” Nestor breathed out the two words. 

Marcus nodded. “Well then, you know everything we do.” 

You raised your eyebrows and let out a laugh. “Respectfully, I think the fuck I don’t.” 

Marcus was glaring at Nestor again, not wanting to get anymore involved in this than he already was. 

“I knew where you were, found you a few months after you left. Never told Miguel.” Nestor’s eyes were closed as his chest raised and fell with his deep breaths. 

You were speechless which was Nestor’s invitation to keep talking. 

“I got attacked. Your brother, ordered the hit on me. He’s pissed about your mom.” 

Your mom. When Nestor mentioned it before it slipped out of your mind over the thought that your brother ordered a hit on his best friend. 

“She was murdered. Not sure by who but he blames us all. I got away, laid low, told Marcus to meet me here.”  

“How do I know you weren’t followed.” You snapped your head to look at Marcus who was still standing stoic in your entryway. 

“I wasn’t.” His voice was steady. You believed him, there wasn’t anything you could do if you didn’t but the way he was handling this right now was better than you expected from someone you’d never met. 

You sat in the silence for a minute, taking everything in before shaking it all off, letting the Galindo fall right back into place. 

“So what the fuck do we do now?” You looked straight at Marcus as you asked, knowing Nestor called him here for a reason and if he trusted him you should too. 

“We run.” His advice was chaotic but it was spoken so confidently that you didn’t have an ounce of doubt in you. Maybe it was because running was a life you knew about pretty well, it was comfortable. It was safe, ironically. “But for now, let’s get him to a couch, we’ll head out in a few hours.” 

You nodded in agreement as Marcus walked over to help you bring Nestor to your living room. Placing him on the couch you both stood over him. After a moment you looked over at Marcus and introduced yourself giving him your name. 

“Miguel’s sister.” You specified even more. Before the two of you could speak more, Nestor was mumbling under his breath. 

“What?” You placed your attention on him. 

“Before I showed up. Were you on a date?” Nestor grumbled, the pain medicine obviously kicking in. 

Embarrassed, you snapped your head towards Marcus who was quick to look away. 

“I’ll, uh.” Marcus pointed towards the kitchen and quickly made himself scarce leaving you and Nestor in the living room. 

“Not a very good one if this was the highlight of my night.” Your voice was annoyed but you spoke the truth. 

Nestor smiled at your response. It was a mix of pride and also relief. “Maybe, when this is all over, I can take you on a date.” 

His voice was slurring, it was another empty promise, you knew that, but you also knew that he meant it. 

“You should get some rest, Nes.” As your hand swayed next to him, he grabbed it. 

“Promise me that you’ll give me a chance.” 

You froze at his touch but then nodded. If he could give you an empty promise, you should be able to also. 

“I promise.”

Part 1​

[drabbles-mc]

Restless

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.24 Fight, Flight, or Freeze- Blood Covered Hands and “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Warnings: 18+, angst, blood/injury, hospitals

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: It’s always Fuck Miguel Galindo Hours here at drabbles-mc. 😌That being said, I have a lot of feelings about these two. I’ll be thinking about them for a long time.

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @kelpies-shed @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @gemini0410 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @amorestevens @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @choochoo284 @blessedboo @holl2712 @withmyteeth @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @fanfic-n-tabulous @i-love-scott-mccall​ @mijagif​ @winchestershiresauce​ @frattsparty​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @thanossexual​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You didn’t know why it always ended up being the two of you.

Miguel had an entire fucking team of security people working for him, and yet it always seemed to be you and Nestor who got things the worst. You were always stuck in the most volatile situations, you were always the ones who seemed to be bleeding the most. You hadn’t asked to show and tell, but you were willing to bet that out of everyone on the team, you and Nestor were also the ones with the most scars left over from everything. Sometimes you started to think that maybe the two of you were just bad luck charms.

But no matter what shape you were in, the two of you always made sure that Miguel made it home in one piece, and usually unscathed at that. And that was the point of it all. On days when you wondered why Miguel hadn’t told both of you to hit the goddamn bricks because messes seemed to follow you around like a starved cat you fed once, you remembered that all he was worried about was himself. You were serving your purpose to him perfectly despite what it was putting you through, what it was putting Nestor through. You felt like the human incarnation of a broken mirror but Miguel saw you as his saving grace. The same way he saw Nestor.

So, on second thought, maybe you did know why it always ended up being the two of you. You were messy sometimes, sure, and certainly not conventional in your methods, but you always made sure the boss made it home. You were good. Messy, but good. Plus, Miguel made sure that your bills were covered and then some, and it wasn’t like you had a whole lot of other options banging down your door.

You wished that you could have the same weird sense of pride in it that Nestor did. No matter how brutal it got, not matter how badly he was injured, Nestor never seemed to second-guess any of it. He had the type of blind faith in and loyalty to Miguel that you only remembered having back when you were in the service. And those years were long gone now.

You always meant to ask Nestor where that came from, that undying sense of loyalty. But it never seemed like the right time. And, in the moments that could’ve been the right time, it didn’t seem like it was really a topic that he talked with people about. You weren’t so foolish to think that whatever it was between you and Nestor put you in high enough rank to know what was really going on inside his head. You knew he’d take a bullet for you. You’d take one for him, too. It was a lot easier for him to do that than to bare his soul to you.

None of those should’ve been the thoughts that were going through your head given your current circumstances. You hated that your brain took you there. All of the late nights and obscenely early mornings pretending that you were just as disconnected from it all as he was were proven to be futile, useless, a complete waste of your time and energy. Because there you were, bleeding out in the back of his SUV, and rather than thinking about literally any other thing in the entire universe, you were thinking about Nestor.

You weren’t going to wax poetic to his face, though.

“Told you,” you gasped out as you tried to put as much pressure as you could on your lower abdomen, “we should’ve worn the fucking vests.”

You couldn’t see it from where you were laying across the back seats of his van, but Nestor tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He wasn’t the most relaxed driver to begin with, but now he was white-knuckling the damn thing, one quick move away from detaching it from the rest of the vehicle completely.

“We didn’t exactly have a lot of time to get strapped in.”

“And now,” you cringed, fighting the urge to cough because you knew how badly it was going to hurt, “you gotta use that time we don’t have to get me to the fucking hospital.”

“You probably shouldn’t talk.” He glanced at you for a split second in the rearview mirror, already seeing the change in your complexion from the blood loss.

You brought one hand up from your bullet wound to wipe at the sweat on your forehead. You hadn’t thought about the fact that sure, you would wipe the sweat away, but you were going to leave smears of blood behind in its place. You went from feeling slick and sweaty to sticky with your own blood. The hits just kept coming.

“You got an ETA? I can’t see shit back here,” you gritted out.

“ETA is fucking soon.” He shook his head at you. “Stop talking and sit still.”

“Always so bossy,” you grumbled through the pain.

He knew better than to engage with you when you got like this. He especially knew better than to do it when you were bleeding out in his back seat. But he couldn’t stop himself. That was the whole issue with you: he was never able to stop himself.

“Too bad you don’t listen.”

You huffed out a tired, pained laugh. He was right, of course. It wasn’t that you never listened. But you weren’t always the best at taking orders from people, not even from Nestor. You wanted to come back with something else snarky, maybe something that would put his current anger at odds with amusement. You were feeling too tired to fire back with something, though. Your eyelids were finally starting to feel as heavy as the rest of you.

It took a lot more effort than it should’ve to lift your head off the seat. Looking down at your stomach, you saw the way the blood was trickling down your hands and onto your wrist. Your head dropped back again with a soft thud as you tried to press a little harder. It hurt, but you didn’t have much of another choice.

It was hardly a minute later when there was the sound of another, much softer, thud coming from behind him in the car. Nestor reached up, angling his rearview mirror to get a better look at you. He saw that your eyes were closed and his stomach twisted into a knot. Then he saw that your one hand had dropped, arm dangling off the edge of the seat, leaving your fingertips dragging lightly across the floor of the car.

He called your name, his tone gruff and angry, not unlike how he usually sounded on the clock. But you didn’t stir, didn’t respond with anything. He twisted his hands on the steering wheel as his foot pressed a little harder against the gas pedal, calling your name again.

“Come on.” He sounded worried, and it was a shame that you weren’t awake to hear it. “Don’t fucking do this.”

He practically drifted his way to the emergency entrance of the hospital. He didn’t even take the time to yank the keys out of the ignition before going and ripping the back door open. As carefully as he could, he pulled and lifted you out of the car. He looped your one arm around the back of his neck, the blood from your hand smearing across the floral pattern of his shirt, something else that conscious you would’ve had something to comment about. He saw the way that with each minor adjustment, more blood seemed to spill out of your wound.

He came crashing into the hospital, knowing the halls practically like the back of his hand by this point. People quickly scattered out of his way, most likely off-put not just by you being covered in blood and draped over his arms, but also by the angry, frantic look on his face.

“Sir,” one of the nurses was running to catch him as he stalked through the halls, “sir, what happened?”

“What the fuck does it look like?” he grit out, his voice not loud but the sharpness of it still made the nurse flinch.

He wasn’t the first angry person she’d ever dealt with, though. She took it in stride as she called on a few other personnel to help her take out off his hands. He didn’t want to let you go. It wasn’t until they were directing him to lay you flat that he realized how tightly he had balled his fists into your clothes. Unfurling his fingers felt like a herculean effort.

He stood there as the doors closed, breathing labored by much more than just carrying you inside. He was just about to reach up and run hands his down his face when he realized that they were covered in your blood. He was a few seconds from being the second person to have your blood smeared across their face. He wished that he got the chance to wipe it off yours.

He lost track of how long he’d been pacing. With the exception of his phone call to Miguel, and the split-second pauses each time a doctor strode their way out into the waiting area, he had been in constant motion. He hadn’t sat since he got out of the car.

When a nurse finally approached him, he almost didn’t think that she was really talking to him. She cleared her throat, waiting for Nestor to focus his attention. “She’s not awake yet, but you can still see her.”

He was too hung up on the fact that you weren’t awake to be relieved that he could see you. “Is she alright?”

She nodded. “She’ll be fine. Anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. She’ll be moving slowly for a bit, but no permanent damage.” She paused, waiting a moment before gesturing to an adjacent hallway. “Would you like to…?”

“Yes,” he answered, snapping back to attention.

The nurse left him with a warning to just be careful. He heard it but didn’t acknowledge it as he took in the sight of you. It was far from the first time he’d seen you injured. It wasn’t even the first time he’d ever seen you asleep, but this was a different kind of vulnerable and defenseless that he’d never seen on you before. You were no stranger to trips to the hospital, but you’d always been awake for them. You were usually providing commentary to him while you got checked out and stitched up. They’d never had to put you under before. It was strange to see you all hooked up, laying in the hospital bed.

They’d at least cleaned you up. He also saw the spare set of clothes on the side of your bed—they were at least nice enough not to make you change back into the bloody, bullet-torn top you had on before. You’d probably be strangely ecstatic at the prospect of a free pair of sweatpants when you finally came-to.

He was about to reach out to hold your hand, touch your face, anything to really send home the fact that you did actually make it, that you really were going to be okay like they’d said. Before he reached far enough, though, too-familiar sound of someone clearing their throat behind him halted his movements. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, his hand dropping limply back to his side.

“She’s alright, then?” Miguel asked.

Nestor took in a slow, deep breath as he nodded. “Yea. Doctor said she’ll be fine. She, uh, she won’t be able to work for a bit though until it all heals.”

“That’s fine,” Miguel said, stepping in closer to the hospital bed. “We have a team for a reason, yes?”

Nestor nodded but it took more work than it should’ve to get one word out. “Yea.”

“Do you plan on staying? Or should I send someone else?”

Nestor tried not to sound too eager, too protective. “I’ll stay.”

He could feel Miguel’s eyes on him. Miguel might’ve been self-absorbed, but he wasn’t stupid. The reason that you and Nestor had kept your deal under wraps so successfully for so long was because you were both able to compartmentalize. What happened in the dark halls and rooms of your apartment never seeped over into working hours. All these months he’d gone thinking that you would be the one to crack, to blow your cover. And yet, here he was.

He must’ve kept a straight enough face to satisfy Miguel, to wipe away any lingering suspicions. Miguel rested his hand on Nestor’s shoulder for a moment. “I’ll make sure they switch out the cars—take yours to get cleaned.” He pulled his hand away, already taking a step back towards the door. “Call me if anything changes.”

“Yea,” Nestor nodded, managing to pry his eyes off of you just long enough to look back at Miguel before he left, “I’ll let you know.”

It wasn’t until Miguel left that Nestor pulled the chair closer to your hospital bed, finally allowing himself to sit down. He almost reached out to catch your hand in his, the same one that had been limply dragging along the floor of his SUV only hours before, but he stopped himself. Instead, he knitted his fingers together as he propped his elbows against his knees. He pressed the knuckles of his thumbs into the space between his eyebrows, like that would press all of the stress out of his brain. He didn’t expect to be so rattled by it all.

“You look,” you sounded groggy, tired, but your smirk was still audible, “pretty stressed out for a guy who didn’t get shot.”

He snapped his head up to look at you. His expression didn’t give much away, but the fact that he so quickly reached to catch your hands in his said it all. You looked at the way both of his hands clamped over yours, small traces of blood, your blood, still embedded in the cracks of his knuckles.

“Maybe if they doped me up with anesthesia, I’d be as relaxed as you,” he replied with a shake of his head.

You tried not to think too hard on how tightly he was holding your hand as he studied the look on your face. “Still today?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yea, still today. Their drugs aren’t that good.”

“Damn,” you tried to laugh but you felt the pain shoot through where you’d been shot. “Not even the good drugs.”

There was a small stretch of silence between you before Nestor spoke up. “For a second, I thought…”

“That I was gonna bleed out?” You watched the shift in expression on his face as he nodded. You shook your head, pulling your hand from between his as you tried to get yourself in a more upright position, wincing in pain the entire time. You caught the way he went to reach for your hand again but stopped himself—you didn’t comment on it. “Yea, I thought I was too.”

He didn’t know how to address any of the things that he was thinking or feeling, so he didn’t. “Mikey stopped by.”

“Yea?” You dragged your hands down your face before letting them drop to the bed on either side of you. “Asshole didn’t even bring flowers?” Nestor got half your name out before you put your hands up in surrender, “My bad, my bad.” You shook your head. “I got shot for the guy. If he can’t send me a consolation prize, I think I should be able to call him an asshole.” You paused. “What’d he say?”

“N-not much.”

You nodded, the unimpressed expression on your face speaking volumes. “Sounds about right.”

Nestor’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just,” you shrugged, “I don’t know, Nestor. Do you, do you think that if it was you in this bed instead, that he would’ve had more to say?” You paused to give him the chance to answer. When he didn’t, you continued. “’Cause I don’t think he would.”

“Don’t—”

“What? Don’t what?” you shook your head, taking a deep breath as the pain slowly starting coming back. “I know we don’t talk about…well…fucking anything, really. Or, like, I talk, and you lay there and listen to me. Or pretend to. I don’t know if you ever actually do.”

“I do.” He sounded mildly offended by the insinuation.

You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Okay. So you listen. Then,” you gestured vaguely at nothing, “then you know what I’m saying. Miguel didn’t even stick around.”

“I told him I would stay.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” You gasped, wincing in pain. You knew better than to yell, but you were at the end of your rope now. the drugs were wearing off and you were done with all of it.

“What is the point, then?”

You took a slow, steadying breath. “I’m not gonna die for him, Nestor.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

You shook your head. “I’m not dying for Miguel. I thought, I fucking thought that I was done. I thought I was going to die in the back seat of your stupid SUV. And for what? For some rich prick who didn’t even stick around to see if I woke up?” You rested your head back against the pillow behind you. “What the fuck would it even be for?”

You’d never seen his frown stretch so deeply. His fingers messed with the edge of the blanket draped over your hospital bed. “So, what, then?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“So,” you could tell by his cadence that he was coming up with the sentence as he went along, something that wasn’t quite like him, “so you just. You get shot and you’re going to walk away?”

It took all of your self-control to stuff down the cold laugh bubbling in your chest. “That’s…that’s what most people would do if they almost died, yea.”

“We aren’t most people.”

“We?” You couldn’t hide your surprise. “We’re we now? Okay, okay. Interesting. I’ll bite. What is we, then?”

His jaw clenched. “You can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Mikey isn’t just going to let you—”

“I protect him. No,” you shook your head, “we protect him. What’s he going to do if I leave?”

His voice got unexpectedly soft. “You wouldn’t just be leaving him.”

You felt your heart crack on top of all the other pain that was returning to your body. You tried to ignore all of it. “I never got the impression you really cared if I stayed or not.” You saw the slightly hurt and confused look on his face. “Don’t do that. You’re almost always gone when I wake up in the morning. And if you aren’t gone yet, you’re halfway out the door.”

He knew that he couldn’t argue with that. You were right that he was always the one leaving. But it wasn’t because he didn’t care. He didn’t know how to tell you that, though. He didn’t know how to afford himself that sort of vulnerability. It crossed his mind that if he couldn’t get it together and say something to you about all of it now, after he thought you were going to die, when you were saying that you were going to leave, he might never be able to say something.

“You want me to stay, Nestor? You want me to stay with you?” He nodded, not able to force the words out. You let your hand creep over, delicately tangling your fingertips with his own. “Why do we both have to stay?”

“What?”

“Why is the option that we both stay? What if…what if we both go?”

He leaned back in his chair, fingers slipping out from underneath yours. Your stomach dropped at the reaction. You didn’t know what you had been expecting, really. He didn’t quite seem like the running off into the sunset type. But you still had a sliver of hope. Maybe because you would’ve been ready to give this up for him if the roles were reversed. Not that you’d ever be in that position anyway. Not like he would ever turn his back on Miguel.

You let your hands rest far enough up on your stomach not to bother your injury. “Forget I said anything.”

“Listen, I’m—”

“You can call Miguel,” you slowly lowered yourself so that you were lying down again, “let him know I officially didn’t bite the dust. No paperwork for him.”

“Let me—”

“And you can go,” you could hear the slight shake to your voice and you knew that that meant he could hear it too, “I’ll be fine.”

He stood up out of his chair, reaching over to rest his hand on top of yours. “Hey…”

You hated that it took you bleeding out in front of him to get even a modicum of vulnerability out of him, and then it still all turned out to be for nothing. You put your cards on the table and for what?

“You can go, Nestor.” You pulled your hand out from underneath his. “If you’re feeling particularly cruel, you can break the news to Miguel that I’m leaving once I get checked out of this fucking hospital.”

“I’m sorry.” It sounded genuine, but it still didn’t do you any good.

“Go get your car detailed, Nes.” You turned your head so that you weren’t facing him anymore, so that he couldn’t see the tears that were starting to gather in your eyes, “I’ll send you a postcard from wherever I end up next.”

He lingered for a moment, his fingers running over the knuckles of the opposite hand. He could’ve sworn he could still feel the warmth. Looking down at them, he could still see the little bit of blood left over. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, hoping that the words would come to him, but they didn’t. He pressed his lips into a flat line before finally taking a step back and making his way towards the door.

[sparklemichele]

La vida es corta Part 2

Nestor Oceteva X Black Reader

Read part one here.

Nestor walked up to your door and flung it open. “Are y’all ok?”

“What the fuck!” You shouted in shock. You sat up and pulled a trembling Emily up on the seat.

“I got the shooter. Miguel and some security are on their way. Are you ok?” Nestor asked again.

“Yes, we are fine.” You told him holding Emily tight. “Who did this?”

“I don’t know. Get out the car and head inside this store.” Nestor pointed to a print shop behind him.

You and Emily slowly crawled out the car. Emily started sobbing when she saw Antonio.

“Come on Emily.” You ushered Emily in the store. You both got stares from the patrons as you entered the store. They were all crouched down hiding from the flying bullets.  It did not help that you were nearly soaked in blood. You heard the police sirens and wondered what Nestor and Miguel will tell the police. You and Emily stood in the corner of the store as Nestor talked to the police. You could see the police wanted to talk to you and Emily, but Nestor held them at bay until Miguel arrived. The police started to map out the crime scene with tape. A couple of officers did enter the store to question customers, but they left you and Emily alone. A few minutes later an irate Miguel arrived with his advisor Marcus. Marcus and Nestor escorted you an Emily to the car Miguel arrived in bypassing the police and spectators. Emily seemed to calm down from terror to feeling anger. She said nothing as Miguel, Marcus climbed in the front seat and Nestor sat in the back next to Emily.

“They are going to impound the car after removing Antonio.” Miguel told you and Emily. You heard Emily let in a sharp inhale at the mentioning of Antonio. He was a good security guard for her, and she hated he went out that way. The ride home was silent as everyone processed what happened.  

Once home Emily walked to Miguel.

“Miguel find out who was behind this. Me and my best friend could have been killed!” Emily was trembling with anger. Miguel grabbed her in a tight hug to calm her down.

“I will baby. I will.”

The sun was setting, and you needed to get out of your bloody clothes.

“Y/N are you ok?” Miguel asked. You nodded yes.

“I will be better once I get out these clothes.” You caught Nestor’s eyes looking at you with concern.

“Oh, that reminds me we have bags in the trunk of the car. Will we be able to get them soon?” Emily asked as you all walked into the house.

“Yes, I will call and get them sent over.” Miguel assured her. You headed to your room and Nestor followed behind you. He grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Are you sure you are ok?”

“Yes, I will be fine after I take a couple of xanaxs.” You smiled softly at him.

“I’m glad no harm came to you and Emily.”

“We had you there. Thanks for protecting us. I am sorry about Antonio. He was a nice guy.”

Nestor nodded.

“I better get out of these clothes.”

Nestor caressed your cheek wiping the splattered blood off your cheek.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you were hurt.” He told you softly. You turned and kissed the palm of his hand.

“Will you be here tonight?”

“Yes.”

You nodded and head to your room. You tore off your clothes and quickly got in the shower.

After a long hot shower, you dried yourself off and put on a soft robe. While digging in your suitcase for fresh underwear you heard a knock at the bedroom door. You tighten your robe and opened the door to find Nestor standing in front of you.

“Is there anything you need?”

You licked your lips as you looked at him up and down. You stepped back and boldly open your robe. You wanted him and you did not want to wait another day.

“Yes, there is something I need.” You told him.

Nestor’s mouth slightly opened in shock as he walked into your room. He shut the door and locked it.

“Tell me what you need?”

“I realized today that life is too short to not go after what I want, and I want you Nestor.”

Nestor licked his lips in want. “La vida es corta.” Life is short.

Nestor took off his jacket and shoulder holster and sat them both on a nearby chair.

“I want you too.” Nestor walked up to and caressed your lips with his fingers. “You are so damn beautiful. I can’t wait to taste you.”

You opened your mouth and Nestor slipped his thumb in your mouth. You sucked his thumb eagerly. As his finger was in your mouth you desired more of him. You found yourself getting on your knees and pulling at his belt buckle.

“You sure?” Nestor asked in awe as you released him from his pants. You answered him by taking him in your mouth as hunger displayed in your eyes. A moan escaped your mouth as you dragged your tongue across the tip of his hard cock savoring the taste of his precum. You took Nestor back in your mouth and this time he let out a moan as the wetness and warmth of your mouth sends him reeling. Nestor moans as his cock deepens in your mouth and your tongue gently runs on the underside of his cock. You can feel him become harder in your mouth. Your hands wrap around Nestor’s ass as your lips meet his shaft and you continue your ministrations on his cock. You began to change your speed and you notice Nestor began to tremble as your tongue rubbed and licked every sensitive spot.

“Fuck!” he groaned as you took him deeper. Nestor found his fingers in your braids and pulled you off him and looked at you with awe.

“Damn, Y/N!” He gasped trying to catch his breath.

“I’m not finish papi.” You took him in your mouth with more vigor. Your mouth stretched around the base of his shaft as you sucked his dick with desire. Salvia spilled down to his balls as you continued your assault.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” Just as the words spilled from his mouth so did his seed in yours. You swallowed and sucked him dry as best as you could. You stood up and licked your lips. Nestor grabbed you by the back of your neck and kissed you harshly. He wanted you badly. You kissed him back as his right-hand massage you breast and lightly twisted your nipple. You moaned in his mouth. As you both kissed passionately you began to unbutton his dress shirt. You eagerly anticipated for the moment he would be inside you. Nestor pulled from your intense kiss and grabbed your robe collar and pulled it off you. You stood before him naked. Not taking his eyes off you Nestor removed the rest of his clothes. You admired his body and tattoos. His tattoos were splendid, it was ashamed his tattoos were hidden by his long sleeves and suit.

“Nestor can you unbraid your hair?” You asked sweetly. Nestor smirked as he undid both his plats. His long thick wavy hair laid just below his shoulders. He was splendid.

“Lay down.” Nestor demanded his voice raw with pure need. You immediately did as he requested. Nestor crawled into bed with you and gently planted kisses all over your body until he was between your dark brown thighs. Wasting no time Nestor plunged his tongue in your sopping wet pussy.  Your hips bucked up to him as a hiss escaped your lips. Nestor grabs your hips and pull you closer to his mouth. He eagerly found your clit. You tasted amazing and his tongue circled around your nub. Your hands found their way in Nestor’s long hair. You pushed him firmly against your wet pussy. Nestor was happy to oblige as he flattens his tongue and opened his mouth to lick as much of your pussy as he could. Nestor slowly licked your pussy as your lips swollen against his tongue.

“Sabes tan bien en mi boca.” You taste so good in my mouth. Your hands deepened in his hair as your hips gyrated against his mouth. Nestor knew you were close to cumming as your body began to tremble and your back arched up off the bed. Nestor continued licking you vigorously and your thighs clenched his head as you came hard. Nestor did not let up as your juices flowed all over his face. You were becoming too sensitive to his touch and you tried to pull back from his tongue, but Nestor held you into place until he licked your juices. Your body jerked each time his tongue stroked your clit. Your fingers played in his long hair as Nestor kissed his way back up to your lips. After a few moments of kissing you were becoming impatient.

“I need you inside me Nestor.” You opened your legs for him. Nestor grabbed both of your hands and pinned then above your head as he lined up with you and plunged in. Your pussy tightens around him as he slowly thrusts in you.  

“Fuck Nestor faster!” You growled at him trying to free your hands. Nestor chucked at your efforts and pulled out and plunged in harder. You were so wet and felt amazing that Nestor found himself furiously thrusting in you. You pushed against his grip and he finally freed your hands. His hands grabbed your legs as he put them over his shoulders. He needed to get deep. You felt too damn good. The sound of your skin slapping together filled the room.

“Fuck Nestor!” You cried out. You felt your orgasm building. Nestor paused for a moment as you removed your legs from his shoulders.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

You quickly wrapped your legs around him and bucked up to him. Nestor planted his hands beside your head and his face buried in your neck as his thrust became more frantic. Your legs tighten around him as your hands clawed at his back. Nestor lifted and looked at your eyes. They were half closed.

“Look at me.” He demanded.

You opened your eyes and gazed at his handsome face. Nestor slowed down a little as he looked in your eyes. Your fingers played in his hair.

“Nestor don’t stop, please.” You begged.

“I just want to feel all of you.” He moaned as he took his time thrusting in you. It was torture as you needed to fill him hard and fast. How can he have self-control like this? As if reading your mind Nestor began to pick up pace and you were ready. His thrust became deeper and harder and you eagerly accepted all of him. Your orgasm was rising again and as it hit your body convulsed and your pussy gripped Nestor’s cock in a vice grip.

“Fuck!” He moaned as he continued fucking you. You shuddered against his thrusts and watched him as he chased his release. You encouraged his by grabbing his ass and pushing him in you further as he continued to drive in you.

“Cum for me papi.” You lifted up and kissed his lips. Your words sent Nestor over the edge and his orgasm washed all over his body. He moaned your name over and over as the waves lapped over him. He fell in your waiting arms, catching his breath.

“You have ruined me. I don’t think I will let you go back to New York.” He said as he rolled over and pulled you in is arms. You both laid sweaty catching your breaths.

“Maybe Miguel can let you off a few days to come see me in the big city.” You leaned over and kissed his lips as your fingers played in his beard.

“Maybe.”

“Until then…..” You lifted up and straddled Nestor. Nestor’s cock perked up and you slowly slid yourself onto him. “We have tonight.”

______________________________________________________________ 

Emily and Miguel giggled as they laid in bed and could hear you and Nestor go at it.

“I knew it was only a matter of time.” Miguel chuckled.

“Well we can’t talk as we conceived Cristobal in her guest bed in New York.” Emily told him planting a kiss on his cheek.

“God, you think Nestor will be on point tomorrow.” Miguel pondered.

“Actually, I don’t. You may need to give him a day or two off.”

“You may be right after all it is Y/N. Poor Nestor.”

They both fell into a fit of laughter. Miguel kissed Emily he was so glad his wife and best friend were ok. He had an idea who was behind the attack and tomorrow he was going to go after them with everything he had. However first he needed to make love to his wife. He was not about to let Nestor and Y/N show them up.

@try-n-pronounce-it​  @rosey1981​ @est1887​ @angels-reyes​ @emmysrandomthoughts​ @kmhappybunny​ @princess-of-fuckup​ @zoogrl05​ @glimmerglittergirl​ @designerwriterchic​ @titty-teetee​ @jennadoll19-blog​ @deepfrz​ @1000heartbeats​ @piccasoe​ @tashawar​ @whatsthemagicword-now​ @topshopwhxre​ @laketaj24​ @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol​ @readsalot73​ @fangirlextraordinaire​ @chocolatemetalprincess​ @racing-against-the-sunset​ @melaninmarvel​

[theartisticqueen]

I use all of these 😂😂😂

[calif0rnia-lovers]

super bee.

an: sorry his intro to the page is short. I hope you like it 🥰

requested kiss challenge: i missed you kiss + nestor

pairing: nestor x black!reader | words: 700 | rating: 💦

sum: it’s date night. nestor’s plan is simple. no phones. you and him. popcorn. jurassic park. your super bee--things super lowkey.

10:15 on a Friday night.

Nestor’s Super Bee is parked—engine and lights dead.

When it pulls into the crowded lot, the Jamaican Blue Super Bee captured the attention of the cars nearby. Suddenly, Nestor wishes he left it at home. A car like his Super Bee draws too much attention.

One look and the entire parking lot would get a front-row seat to the impatience of his wife. In his defense, Nestor had no idea the night would turn out this way.

The stress from his job left Nestor needy--but not as needy as you. Your husband has always looked forward to date night--moments alone with you help him unwind--but this week, Nestor's tank has been on E. He was hoping to keep date night lowkey.

When he picked you up, his plan was simple: the local drive-in.

Nestor loves the drive-in. He prefers it over the theater. The drive-in is where Nestor took you for your first date. It is where he first kissed you, in the same front seat of his Super Bee.

Tonight Jurassic Park is playing. It is Nestor’s favorite film of all time.

Despite it being an all-time favorite—the film is the last thing on his mind.

Nestor's focus is on gripping your body as close to his as possible. One wrong shift you run the risk of pushing into the steering wheel.

An unintended honk of the horn is a bonafide way to attract unwanted attention.

He could easily reach down. Adjust the position of his seat, but Nestor's mind is too far gone. The sensible part of his brain is drowning in euphoric bliss. The grip of your fingers against his shoulder, the warmth of you sliding down his length, has transformed Nestor's "let's wait 'til we get home" into a muddled mess of breathless and unintelligible grunts and words.

A week's worth of stress is long gone. Slowly sailed away with each brush of your lips--disappearing through the cracked windows and into the night sky.

There’s a fist in your hair. Your curls trapped inside a firm grip--keeping them back--preventing the obstruction of Nestor's view.

Dark brown eyes linger on the soft curves of your swollen lips, over the delicate shadows your lashes cast against your cheeks. Tracing the glow of the moon across your skin.

His other hand digs into your hip--Nestor's last form of control. He can never keep control when he's in this position. Maybe that's why it's your favorite.

The driver seat limits his movements, but Nestor can't find it in himself to protest.

His touch drifts to the base of your spine, his palm massaging your skin. The encouragement melts into impatience once the pace of your hips drags slowly against his.

Your giggle brings a soft smile to your husband's lips.

"I thought you didn’t like this idea," you tease.

It's muttered against the warmth of his lips. The stubble that brushes your cheek pulling another giggle from your lips.

"I didn't say that," Nestor objects. "I said we didn't need to get kicked outta here."

Nestor hadn't said much when your touch drifted through his hair. The action was innocent enough. Bored with the film, you had resulted to toying with his hair for nearly thirty minutes. He hadn't said much when your touch drifted to his jaw, toying with his beard. He didn't even say anything when your fingers disappeared into the chest of his shirt.

It wasn't until your lips pressed against his neck--your touch guiding his hand from your thigh up the skirt of your dress--that your husband's gaze had drifted from the film.

"Missed me that much?" He'd chuckled as your lips pressed a second kiss against his skin, your hand already undoing his belt.

"...I changed my mind," Nestor mumbles. His eyes drift shut, his head tipping back to rest against the headrest. The approaching high you've both been chasing slowly begins to creep up your spine. "...this is worth it...you're always fucking worth it..."

You place a soft kiss against his lips. The second one you leave brings his palm to the nape of your neck. The kiss Nestor leaves melt your body against his chest.

"What can I say?" The smile on Nestor's lips morphs into a grin as your nose brushes against his. "I missed you."

main tags: @crowngold @cant-decide-at-this-moment @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @gemini0410 @the-jer-bear @leahnicole1219 @abbiesthings @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @starrynite7114 @awkwardtayler @queenbeered@kaystacks17 @richonne4life @cocotheclown @oscars-wifeyyy @jennisdirtyimagines @sadeyesgf @ughdontbeboring @myakai13 @linziland13 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @rosieposie0624 @appropriate-writers-name @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @beiroviski @making-starsdance @seize-the-droid @chaneajoyyy @siempremamita @relaxing-najee @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @toni9

[wisteriaandwafers]

Shorts List

Two months ago I made a list of series and said I would make one for shorts, oneshots, drabbles, two-parters and such, next time I put off actual work. But like the true queen of procrastination that I am, I procrastinated on that too.

I would like to thank all the authors on this list and some that are not (bc I forget stuff), I really appreciate you for giving me little pockets of joy. Some of these are older that I keep in my mind and some newer that are so fun.

They are mostly of the soft and cute variety because I’m soft and I love love. Here you go babes

You are responsible for what you read. Take a peek at the warnings.

Mayans M.C.

Miguel Galindo

Indulge in the fantasy of meeting a rich man. I mean he runs a drug empire but that might be your thing... idk your story 🤷‍♀️

Open house by @perfumeofsighs

I just really enjoyed this one. The writing...*mwah*

Are we on a date right now by @brattyfics

One of the first Mayans fics I read on here and I still love it

Tightrope 2 by @mrsamaroevans

Part 1 is slightly angsty but it gets really sweet in 2

Our life is golden by @sheeshgivemeabreak

This is one of the ones that is not cutesy but it’s really good so...

Ezekiel “Ez” Reyes

I wonder when all of the fic writers decided that that he is always a best/long time friend. I wasn’t invited to this meeting but I so enjoy the spoils

Adore you by @starrynite7114

This one is love and peace embodied. Makes me smile always

Let me sleep by @drabbles-mc

This one is so cute.

Something Real by @challengeahellcat

They’re on a roller rink date. Nuff said

Prisoner and this one by @everyhowlmarksthedead

It’s so warm and cute.

Teasing by @angelreyesgirl

This one makes me smile all big all the time

First day of school by @spookys-girl

Johnny “Coco” Cruz

Cleanse your minds of present day Coco with very cute Coco fics

My little gangster by @sadeyesgf

This one resides in a special place in my heart. Also it reminds me of Cat joining a gang in victorious

This drabble by @withmyteeth

You know what do yourself a favour and read the entire drabbles masterlist.

Funfair date by @mayans-sauce

Go and be assaulted by cuteness

It was always you by @whatupitsastarrynite

It’s long time love and such. they had a reblog war that created this gem

Angel Reyes

He doesn’t have a nickname. Sad.

Pure love by @rebelwrites

What a smiley fic

The 7th Floor by @yourwonkywriter

Confession fic.

TikTok prank by @jeonsblackgf-writes

It’s just funny 😄

Nestor Oceteva

I so enjoy the way writers create situations like we know anything about the man

This one by @everyhowlmarksthedead

He threw a taco at a cop

No sugar for me by @nestors-whore

This one is not really nestor-centric but his reaction is so funny so

My favourite things by @crimsonheart01

Some More

Erik “Killmonger” Stevens

There were no smiling gifs of Erik. Then I remembered that fic Erik is very different than how the movie went

You Good 2 by @cecereads209

It’s a meet cute type situation and so lovely

Baby Fever? by @blackgirlimaginesmarvel

It’s a platonic coupling but still very cute and funny

Cranky by @kittehkwrites

Lesson in not skipping nap time. Very adorable

Kevin Atwater

Sweet tooth by @crushed-pink-petals-writes

There’s a bakery and sweets involved. My little baker heart loves this

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Confession : I haven’t even finished the show but a lot of people I follow reblog and then I read

Crush by @charcoocheurie

The little sister has a crush and it’s so witty and cute.

Letty Cruz

Letty Cruz the beautician by @isisafrofairy

Also because she makes very gorgeous mood boards that have inspired or been inspired by authors

Finally,

This is my love letter to gif makers, I don’t know how you do it but I love you for it and appreciate you. I know for a fact that some of my favourite fics would not have been possible without your work so... Most of them are multi fandom, but I’m referring to Mayans mostly.

@shadesalvarez

Her work is so gorgeous and she hosted Mayansmcweek. And she’s obsessed with Danny Pino and I enjoy that. Also, can you say speed

@thesewickedhands

Because I enjoy her obsession with Coco Cruz very much

@angels-reyes

Because even though, they don’t make gifs anymore, theirs are still some of the most used

@lunapascal

Because they gif while scenes that are always so pretty

@ortizobsessed

Seems like they’re always telling a story in the sets

@hvitserkk

Is very artsy in their editing and that’s fun for me

@angel-reyes

Because they have the funniest Ez Angel interactions giffed and I enjoy that

@haydenpanettieres

Because they do so many Ez and Gabi moments and I’m obsessed with that pairing

@mitchmarnii

Because they do character sets for all your needs

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

Is She the Reason? - Part 3

Parts: 1, 2

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Reader, Nestor Oceteva x Black!Reader

Summary: Angel, Nestor. Nestor, Angel. Girl....what the hell you gon’ do now?

Warning(s): Aaaangst, a fluffly bit, a confrontation, but aaaaaangst. This is the angst series :)

Word count: 2,508

AN: I uh...I did a thing. After this there is only one part of this series left. Comments, questions, and concerns are always welcomed. Okay, bye. Love y’all xo

TAGLIST:   @holland23567 @trulysuccubus @pearlkitten33

You were at the salon getting yourself a downright sickening blowout. You could feel how silky the hair was and you were happy for a change. You didn’t wanna do something so drastic like chopping your hair, but you needed something new. 

“You finessed the hell out of my hair. Thank you so much Shonda.” You smiled at your longtime hair stylist.

“You know I got you, girl.” Shonda smiled back, still running her fingers through the hair and slinging it over your shoulder. She noticed you looking at your phone, “You got a hot date with that fine ass Angel?”

You felt a tug on your heart at the mention of him. “Nope. We aint together anymore and no I don’t want to talk about it.” You got up out of the seat and placed the money she owed plus a tip on the vanity.

“Oh, uh okay. I’ll see you next time!” Shonda called out to you as you practically ran out of the salon to avoid any further questions about you and Angel.

You breathed a sigh of relief at being outside and away from the possible interrogation that would have happened if you stayed there longer. You were ready to casually talk about your breakup with others. You were not over it. 

The familiar smell of delicious Mexican food wafted through your nostrils as you reached your lunch destination for the day. You walked in and saw who you were looking for already at a table.

“Hey Nes.” You greeted the man with a smile that turned into a giggle as he stood up from his seat and pulled you in a big hug, lifting your feet off the ground a little. “Put me down.”

“I’m just happy to see you, mi cielo.” Nestor murmured, letting your feet drop back down to the floor and leading to the table.

“Oh don’t start sweet talking me.” You laughed, taking a seat.

“Ain’t no one sweet talking you. I can if you’d like me too. I see you with the straight silky locs. You trying to impress me?” He teasingly asked as he sat across from you.

“Boy, please.” You scoffed, taking a look at the menu.

“Good. Cause I’m already impressed by you.” He replied in such an earnest tone, it caused her to stop looking at her menu to meet his eyes.

The look in his eyes made her pause. He was staring at you so intently that you were relieved when the server came to get their orders. You had no idea what to say to him. Nestor really was a nice guy. He was fine, secure, and had yet to disappoint you. You’d been relying on him a lot over these last few weeks. He’d kept you company, wiped your tears, and made you laugh. He showed up every time he said he would, but what did that mean? 

It wasn’t until after you two enjoyed a hilarious and delicious lunch together that you felt ready to broach the subject. You two were standing in front of his car saying your goodbyes.

“You’re a great friend and I appreciate you so much. You know that, right Nes?” You asked him, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“Of course, cielo.” He responded, his hands on your hips. 

He pulled you in for a hug and you hugged him tight. When you two pulled back, he leaned forward as if to kiss you and you buried your face in his chest. Nestor instead held you tightly again and placed several kisses on your exposed neck. The kisses make you shiver and you pull away again to look at him.

“Nestor..” You begin but get interrupted by his phone going off.

He checked his phone and pulled further away from you. “It’s Miguel. I gotta go, but call me later okay?” He placed a kiss on your forehead and then he was hopping in his car and speeding away to meet Miguel wherever.

You just stood in the same spot he left you, staring at the tail lights of his car until you can’t see them anymore.

xxxxxxxx

The “alliance” between the Mayans and the Galindo Cartel was a precarious situation from the very beginning. Things had grown more tense with the dissolution of Y/N’s relationship with Angel and her blossoming friendship with Nestor. Meetings between the gangs had an added uneasiness with Angel glaring at Nestor and Miguel’s bodyguard not giving him any energy back.

It had been two weeks since the diner and Angel could not get those images out of his head. Angel was waiting for the right opportunity to address Nestor. Where the fuck does Nestor get off having his hands all on you? Yes, Angel knew you were mad at him, but that doesn’t mean he was ready to see you with anyone else especially someone associated with fucking Galindo. He wanted him to stay away from you. 

The opportunity presented itself when Miguel left the meeting with his other guards, leaving Nestor behind to complete a different task. The Mayans had all turned to head back into the clubhouse but Angel stayed behind and walked up on Nestor.

“Aye!” Angel barked out at Nestor’s retreating form as he walked up on him. “What are you doing with Y/N? I saw y’all the other day.”

Nestor turned around and stared at him for a minute before saying, “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“You heard me. Why are you sniffing around her? She’s not gonna be with you. She still loves me.”

“Oh she told you that? Then why aren’t y’all still together huh? Cause y’all aint together right now right? Right?” Nestor asked, staring Angel down. Angelcito would be even more upset to learn Nestor just came from lunch with you, but he wasn’t about to gloat out of respect for you.

“Yeah but-”

“And whose fault is that?”

Angel was silent. He knew it was his fault. He didn’t need to be reminded by the likes of Nestor. As the man went on, Angel found himself getting angrier and angrier. His hands balling into fists.

“So let me get this straight: you fuck some random bitch so Y/N dumps you and now you in my face because you fucked up and lost her?” Nestor stared at Angel and chuckled. How pathetic could he be? The audacity of the Mayan to tell him anything was laughable. “Own your shit, homes. Don’t worry about what I’m doing.”

Angel couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed Nestor by the shirt and pushed him up against the car. “Stay the fuck away from her.” He barked, voice harsh and loud.

The commotion must have gotten someone’s attention because the Mayans poured out of the clubhouse, pulling Angel off Nestor who only laughed and straightened his shirt.

Bishop tried to apologize for Angel but Nestor waved him off, still laughing. “I’ll give him that one. We can chalk it up to emotional distress at his recent loss.” He goes from speaking to Bishop to looking Angel dead in the eyes. “But if you put your hands on me again I’ll blow your brains out and leave your mangled body at your pop’s front door, comprende?”

Nestor was in his car and gone without another word. Angel just watched him go, before turning to look at EZ. EZ could tell from the look on his face that he was planning something and he just hoped it did not backfire and make things even worse.

xxxxxxxx

“Open the fucking door!” You screamed, banging your fist against the locked office door. You couldn’t believe you had gotten played like this. “Whoever is on the other side: EZ, Coco, Gilly, or even Letty when I get out of here I'm gonna hurt you.” You threatened, but the door remained closed.

You had received a text from Chucky asking you to stop by the garage to look over some contracts with him. You had the day off so it was no big deal. When you walked in the office you were not greeted by Chucky but instead a pensive Angel. Obviously this had been a set up. 

“It’s not getting opened until I say the magic word.” Angel explained from the chair he had yet to move from. He was completely relaxed and his sentence just confirmed what you already knew: he set this whole thing up.

“Oh so it’s you I should hurt, then?” You turned around from the door and crossed your arms as you stared at him. “Why would you do this?”

“I needed to see you.”

You scoffed. “Angel tell them to open this door right now.”

“No.”

“No?” You angrily walked to the desk and swiped a paper weight off the desk that you chucked at his chest, hitting him square on the collarbone.

“Ow! Shit.” He groaned, rubbing where the weight hit him. 

“I will throw everything on this desk at you. Let me out.” You threatened once again and he stood up from the seat. He walked around the desk and every step he took, you took one backwards.

He was approaching but you wanted to keep some space between the two of you. It wasn’t until you backed into the door that you realized he was just getting you away from the potential weapons on the desk.

“Okay fine.” You threw your hands up in defeat. “Fine. Let’s talk Angel. What would you like to discuss?”

“Your hair looks nice. You’ve never worn it like that before. You look beautiful.” He complimented.

“Thanks.” You were wound up so tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

“I bet Nestor likes it too.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mention of Nestor. “Why are you bringing him up?”

“Just heard you two have been hanging out.” He tried to nonchalantly mention, but you saw right through that.

“I know you’re not jealous. Please fuck right off with that. If you want to talk about Nestor, this conversation ends now.” You were not about to get into a discussion about Nestor with Angel. It wasn’t his business and also you weren’t even sure what was going on. The last time you saw him was at lunch earlier in the week.

Angel was silent for a moment as he debated with himself. “Do you miss me? Cause I miss you.” He asked, staring at you.

“No.” You tried to keep a bored look on your face.

“You really don’t miss me at all, querida? You don’t miss us?” He implored, taking a step closer to you.

It was quiet as you two simply stared at each other. He was waiting for an answer and you were fighting with yourself to keep quiet.

“Of course I miss you, you selfish asshole!” You finally exploded. You missed him every damn day. The situation was hard enough but he made it worse by just not leaving you alone. “Doesn’t mean I want or need to be with you. You don’t understand that I can’t trust you Angel. I refuse to torture myself by being with you and worrying what you’re doing every second of the day.”

“I want to earn your trust back. You tell me what you want me to do and that’s what I’ll do. Starting right now. You want me on my knees? What’s that Temptations song….I aint too proud to beg right? Call me David Ruffin.” Tears filled your eyes as you listened to him. This was the Angel you fell in love with. All earnest good intentions with a side of sarcastic asshole that you found irresistible. “Give me something, Y/N. We can’t just end like this. I can’t accept this. I know it’s my fault, but I can’t let you go.”

“You have to! I just..I can’t Angel. You hurt me so fucking much. I can’t go back. I won’t let you do it again. I won’t.” You began shaking your head as the tears poured down your cheeks. He shattered your heart with his actions and selfishness. You would never put yourself in that position again. And yet, your traitorous heart still yearned for him.

Angel had tears in his eyes as he watched you break down. He took your face in his hands and wiped your tears. “Oh, querida. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated apologies and sweet nothings over and over again as he held you close.

After crying for a moment, you raised your head and looked up at Angel. “Sorry just isn’t enough.”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make it better. So he did the only thing he could do. The thing he’s been wanting to do for almost two months and he kissed you firmly on the lips.

You froze at first before gripping his kutte tightly as he pinned you to the door. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, and everything you missed about being with you. He kissed you like a man who knew exactly what you liked and he did. You both pushed all of your pent up feelings into that kiss.

He got your legs spread and wrapped around his waist as he pushed you even harder into the wall. You grinded against him as you two continued to explore each other’s mouths.

The pounding on the door broke you two out of the haze of emotionality and lust you’d lost your head in.

“Angel! Get out here! Now.” EZ called out through the door. There was an undercurrent to his voice that made you pause. What was going on?

Angel was content to continue kissing you, but you pushed him away and let your legs hit the floor again. You fixed your hair and wouldn’t look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N…” Angel began, but you ignored him as you opened the now unlocked door.

When you stepped out Angel was right behind you and he bumped into your back as you froze, after seeing who was on the other side of the door.

EZ was the first face you saw and then you noticed Coco towards the back of the room. Behind EZ stood a strange young guy next to a familiar face you hadn’t seen in awhile.

Adelita

You hadn’t seen her since that fateful day. Your blood turned to ice as you looked at her now. Did she know Angel had a woman when they began their affair? Would it have made a difference had she known? You give her a once over, trying to figure out what made her so damn special. What was so good about her that he’d break his promises to you? What made her better than you?

It wasn’t until the other woman shifted in her stance that you noticed the hand she had placed over her stomach….over a slight bump that was only just becoming visible.

You stopped breathing.

Adelita was pregnant.

[crowfootwrites]

Los Guardianes | Part I [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

I've been sitting on this for a while because I really like the story and want to make sure I do it justice. This is going to be a multi-part series. I hope y'all like it!

Warnings: references to playground injury | Words: 1,527

Also, oops, totally forgot to include my taglist 🤦🏼‍♀️: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie

In the chaos that accompanied the start of the first day of school, you missed the shiny black Escalade that was pulling up out front of New River Preschool Academy. Your pre-K classroom was already noisy, the sounds of children chattering and laughing intermingled with the sounds of tearful farewells as parents prepared to leave for the day. A few children sobbed hysterically at their parents’ departures and you motioned for your classroom aide to attend to them while you answered questions from a couple of helicopter parents about naptime and the quality of the provided snacks.

You didn’t miss when a very severe looking man with long black braids and yellow aviator sunglasses appeared at the classroom door with a young boy in tow. It was almost comical, the juxtaposition of such an intimidating looking man, dressed in all black and sporting a neck tattoo, standing on your gaudy counting carpet. Your eyes flickered towards him as he tried to assess which of the adults in the classroom was in charge. You watched as the young boy tugged on his hand and pointed eagerly towards the bins of toy cars along your bright blue bookshelf. You politely extricated yourself from the claws of the two mothers demanding their children only receive brand name juice and made your way towards the door, navigating easily around crawling children and spilled blocks.

The man looked up at your approach and you swore there was a flash of relief in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by the serious, acute gaze you had witnessed at his arrival.

“Good morning,” you addressed the duo cheerfully. “I’m Ms. (Y/L/N). Who do we have here?” you asked, crouching down to greet the boy. He stared at his shoes shyly, shuffling closer to his guardian’s leg. You noticed the tightening of his little fingers around the man’s hand, and you stood with a smile.

“Cristóbal. Galindo,” the man offered quietly. “He’s a little nervous.”

“I see,” you replied with a grin. “Well, hopefully we can pull him out of his shell a little today. I promise, he’ll be used to us in no time, Mr. Galindo.”

The man’s stern expression lifted for a moment as he smirked, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m – I’m not Mr. Galindo,” he clarified. “I’m Nestor. I’m the Galindos’ head of security.”

“Oh, I'm sorry! Little man gets his own security detail?” You hoped your teasing was well-received; Nestor didn’t look like the kind of person you wanted to upset.

But Nestor smiled at you. It was small, but it was there, and the tension in your chest relaxed just a bit. “Something like that,” he replied. He studied you for a moment before you felt a tugging on the hem of your shirt and tore your gaze away from Nestor’s to glance down at the tiny culprit: a little boy with cornrows was motioning to Cristóbal and holding up a toy Batmobile.

You chuckled. “Use your words, Marco,” you said gently. “You can ask him if he wants to play with you.”

Marco turned to Cristóbal, who was staring at him in bewilderment. But the moment Marco offered the Batmobile, Cristóbal was smiling, and the two boys scampered over to an empty spot on the carpet. You looked back up to see Nestor still staring at you, a strange look on his face. He seemed to snap out of it after a moment, and he fumbled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He handed you a business card.

“I think Mr. Galindo’s information is on the school paperwork, but if you have any issues and you can’t get a hold of him, I always answer,” he supplied.

You nodded and gave him a wry smile. “Thank you, I’ll remember that.”

With a quick nod, he was gone.

Your mornings went something like that for the next few weeks. As the kids settled into a routine and became more familiar with your classroom, drop-offs started going more smoothly. Every morning, Nestor dropped Cristóbal off, and picked him up every afternoon. Sometimes, you had the opportunity to chat with him, other times, he greeted you with a nod and then was on his way.

Cristóbal seemed to be thriving. He played well with others and followed directions. He was very inquisitive, which you found endearing. You knew, generally speaking, who the Galindos were, and you would have expected, coming from such a wealthy family, for Cristóbal to be very spoiled. But you were pleasantly surprised by his gentle and respectful demeanor.

On one otherwise uneventful Tuesday, Cristóbal fell on the playground and split his upper lip. When you attempted to call Mr. Galindo, per his information in Cristóbal’s file, he didn’t pick up. You remembered Nestor’s card in the top drawer of your desk and dug around to find it while you pulled Cristóbal onto your hip and he clung to your shirt, his little body shuddering as he sobbed.

You quickly dialed the number and put it on speaker, setting your cell on your desk while you dug out your antiseptic wipes for the boy’s lip.

“Nestor.” His voice was clipped and edgy.

“Hi, Nestor,” you rushed, not wanting to take up too much of his time, “this is Ms. (Y/L/N) from Cristóbal’s school. I’m so sorry to bother you, but Cris had a little accident on the playground today. I don’t think it’s anything too serious, but he split his lip and he’s pretty upset. I tried to call Mr. Galindo, but he didn’t answer.” You knew he could hear Cristóbal wailing from your hip.

The second you stopped speaking he was telling you he’d be there in twenty minutes. He sounded gentler by then, and you breathed a sigh of relief. In that moment, handling a cartel kid seemed way over your pay grade.

Nestor arrived exactly twenty minutes later. It was nap time in your classroom, so you had Cristóbal sitting next to you on a bench in the hallway leading to your room. The bleeding had stopped, and he held an ice pack to his face to help with the swelling. His feet were kicking gently, not reaching the ground, and you realized one of his shoes was untied. As you knelt in front of him to re-lace his red sneaker, you talked to him quietly, telling him about the last time you hurt yourself: tripping over your best friend’s dog at the park and scraping your knee. You told the story so animatedly that he was giggling behind his ice pack. Facing Cristóbal, you didn’t see or hear Nestor approach and when you happened to glance over your shoulder, you jumped to find him standing behind you. He grinned down at you, obviously trying not to laugh alongside his ward.

You rose quickly to your feet as Cristóbal cried, “Nes!” and hopped off the bench.

You could have melted into a giant puddle on the floor witnessing the tenderness with which Nestor interacted with Cristóbal. He knelt down on one knee, gently pulling the ice pack away from the boy’s face to assess the damage. His eyes were puffy from crying, his lip was swollen, and there was a robot bandage over the cut, but he looked ok otherwise.

“How does your lip feel, bud?” Nestor asked him quietly, his voice low and calm.

“It hurts a little,” Cristóbal replied, “but Ms. (Y/L/N) made it stop bleeding and said I was brave.”

You watched as Nestor tried to hide his smile.

“You are brave, chaparrito (shorty),” Nestor responded with a nod, ruffling his hair. “Is it ok if I take him home for the day?” he asked you.

“Yeah, of course, I – ”

“Hey, now I look tough like you do when you get hurt, Nes!” Cristóbal interjected as Nestor stood up, a grimace passing over his expression. You raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you.

He offered a rueful smile and shrugged. “Hazards of the job.”

“Thank you,” he offered appreciatively. “For taking care of him.”

“Of course. Happy to.” You took in his dark eyes and the set of his jaw. He looked more drained than he had that morning and you wondered fleetingly what he had been up to when you called.

Cristóbal grabbed Nestor’s hand and began towing him down the hall when Nestor paused. He glanced back over his shoulder at you. “Maybe the next time I need fixing up, I could come see you for robot bandaid?” he asked, his gaze sober and almost apprehensive.

Your mind raced, trying to come up with a suitably clever reply as your lips curled into a grin. “Yeah,” you managed, “I’ll make sure to stock enough for all your work hazards. I also have dinosaurs, if you’re interested.”

A small smile crept onto his face and he gave you a firm nod. “Very interested.”

Cristóbal tugged his arm and he let the boy lead the way out. Your breath caught in your chest, the stillness a distinct contrast to the thunderous beating of your heart behind your ribcage. Very interested.

Part II of Los Guardianes

[bullet-prooflove]

Spray Paint: Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Tagging: @wakeama @anime-weeb-4-life @expir3dl0v3 @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @purrrrfect @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @stressed-chas @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @irishavengersassemble @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @dakotapaigelove

Nobody knows that Nestor paints, no one except you, of course. There’s a reason he’s kept it a secret for all of these years and you’re not about to ruin that.

When people come into your home and compliment the artwork on the walls, you always say it’s by a local artist, someone up and coming, you don’t remember the name.

In the Cartel he was known as The Mercenary.

In the M.C it’s The Prospect.

In the art world he’s Neoce, his work selling for between five to six figures in some circles. It’s what keeps the two of you lucrative now that you’re out of the assassin game and he’s doing community work in the M.C.

It’s only in the past few years his artwork has taken off, his work is bright, colourful, renditions of the things he feels, the things he sees. It used to be so dark after David died, cryptic layers of greys, blacks and browns all blurring into each other and then there was the red, so fucking vivid, it looked like splashes of blood across the canvas.

When he worked in the Cartel, he used to do it in the spare room of his apartment, locking it away like it was a secret. He couldn’t stand the idea of Miguel’s judgement. In his world men ran empires, they didn’t paint.

The irony is that Miguel once paid 25k for one of his paintings. It hung in his office for a couple of years before the FBI raided the place. The other man had never realised that the artist who’d created the piece was the man he’s grown up with. Sometimes Nestor questions if Miguel had ever really known him at all, or if he’d always viewed him as an employee.

He has his own studio now, in the house that the two of you own. A large space with white walls, high ceilings and windows that let in natural light. He doesn’t feel the need to hide his shit from you, if it weren’t for the fumes and the music, he’d keep an open-door policy because he likes having you amongst his things, immersed in his world.

He’s hard at work when you enter the studio, hip hop on full blast, mask over his face as he shakes the can of spray paint. His unruly hair is tied back away from his face in a bun. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a white wifebeater that shows off his tattoos, it makes you want to run your fingers over them. You linger in the doorway, watching him for a second as he moves with the fluidity of an apex predator, painting layer after layer in order to bring out the starkness of the colour.

He has a gift, you’ve always thought that, ever since you’d first laid eyes on his artwork. You recall the night he unlocked the door to the spare room in his apartment, the way his gaze lowered as you surveyed the work. Submissive, unsure, traits that you would never connect with the man you loved. You’d recognised the gesture for what it was, him revealing another part of himself to you, sharing a side of him that no one else knew.

“It’s beautiful,” You had told him, your fingertips tracing over the colours. “I can see you in it.”

It’s you who’d encouraged him to submit his work to the ANON ARTshow, the prize was 50k and representation. He didn’t expect to win, not really but when he got that letter, he couldn’t describe the way it made him feel. The two of you had celebrated with champagne in a hotel suite in San Diego because you’d been on a job and Miguel needed him the next day for some work just over the border. It was a stolen moment amidst the chaos of your lives, another secret just for the two of you.

His reputation had gained traction from there, his anonymity only heightening the appetite for his work. He’d run several solo exhibitions since then, donating the majority of the proceeds to causes that need it, he’s been funding Carmen’s underground border network for years, ever since he learned about Mari and how she was trafficked.

“Mi Corizon,” Nestor tuts when he catches you in the doorway, he sets down the can of spray paint before pulling off his mask. “You’re spoiling the surprise.”

It’s your birthday in a couple of weeks and he knows exactly the memory he wants to recreate. That night in the desert when the two of you buried a body together, the moment he fell in love working alongside of you as you sang that song, that silly little one that featured in both your childhoods. He’s generated the outline and began to spray paint the base, but it still has a long way to go before it becomes the image he has in his head.

He's gentle as he guides you from the room, his hand on your lower back. He closes the door quietly behind him.

“You’re banned for the next few weeks.” He tells you as he escorts you back to the living space.

He thought he had a few more days before you returned home but it appears you’ve finished up your trip sooner than expected. His gaze strays to your go-bag stowed away alongside the front door, the same place you always leave it upon returning.

You’ve been away for a couple of days helping to relocate one of the families who came over the wall, making sure they’re settled, that they have resources. You’ve been doing this work for a while now and Nestor sees the difference it makes, for both you and for them. You sleep better at night, smile a lot more, there’s a light in you that outshines the darkness and Nestor can’t help but fall in love all over again.

“Let me welcome you home properly.” He suggests, his lips brushing over yours. You make that noise, that sweet little sound that you always make when the both of you have been apart for far too long. He senses your need, it’s in the way you lean into him, your entire body pressing against his because it isn’t enough right now, you need more, you need skin to skin contact, those dark eyes on yours as he drives you to the pinnacle of release. You need…

Nestor knows exactly what you need.

“Let me show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[drabbles-mc]

Bad Choices

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.11 "911, What’s Your Emergency?”- Sloppy Bandages & Self-Done First Aid

Warnings: angst, language, blood/injury, Young Nestor Feelings

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Okay so @narcolini dropped this picture in the chat the other day and dragged me right back into my Young Nestor thoughts and feelings. I’m not upset about it at all. I’ve missed him.

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @amorestevens @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @choochoo284 @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @shadow-of-wonder @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @thanossexual​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

The sound of someone knocking on your door roused you from your deep sleep on the couch. You slowly opened your eyes, the light from the television feeling much brighter than it had been when you fell asleep. You groaned quietly as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. For a moment, you thought that maybe you misheard things. Maybe it was a few doors down, or maybe it was just your upstairs neighbors being obnoxious again.

You were about to flop back down and go back to sleep when the knocking started up again. It was definitely outside your door. You huffed as you swung your legs off and stood up. You dragged your hands down your face as you made your way to the door. You looked through the peephole, and you hated that you weren’t surprised by who you saw on the other side of the door.

Undoing the chain and flipping the deadbolt, you pulled the door open. Nestor stood on the other side, a lopsided grin on his face as he held his one arm tight against his side.

“Hey,” he said, not sure how he was supposed to introduce this entire situation to you.

“Hey.” You tried and failed to bite back a yawn. “You good?”

“Um. Not really.” He took his hand away from his arm and you saw where the blood had soaked through the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt. Honestly, the fact that he was wearing something with full sleeves should’ve been your first clue that something was wrong.

“Fuck,” you tried to keep the curse quiet as you reached, pulling him in by his good arm, “Get in here.”

You shut the door and flipped the lights on in what seemed like one swift motion. Nestor squinted his eyes for a second, trying to adjust from the dim light of the hallway outside your apartment and the previously nonexistent light of your living room.

He was holding onto his arm again, and you weren’t sure if it was helping with the pain, the bleeding, or if he was just trying to continue hiding it from you because the look on your face when you saw the blood wasn’t reassuring.

“What the hell happened?” you asked as you turned the television off, giving Nestor your full attention.

Suddenly he felt like he was being put on the spot. And, in a way, he was. He was no stranger to people grilling him, but it was different with you. The anger in your voice was just a shroud for your worry, and that’s what put him on edge. Straight-up anger he could deal with. Not this.

“Um,” he picked at the stained sleeve of his shirt, “things got kinda messy earlier.”

“I can see that.” You shook your head. “How messy?”

“Can’t go to the hospital because they ask questions, kind of messy.”

“Jesus.” You were still shaking your head at him as you motioned to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll grab some stuff to try and fix you up.”

He nodded, on the brink of saying thank you when you turned and took off towards your bathroom. He sat down on the couch, awkwardly looking around your apartment. It was far from the first time he’d been over, but it had never been under these circumstances. You knew him, you knew Miguel too. While you didn’t have all the details of everything, you still knew. But you never pried, and he never really offered anything up. Plausible deniability or whatever other excuse he could come up with to keep you at arm’s length away from it all. But now he was sitting on your couch with blood leaking out of his arm and the very real danger at hand was about to become impossible to ignore.

A couple minutes later, you walked out with your first aid kit and a few washcloths in your hands. You set them on the coffee table before walking into the kitchen, turning the sink on, and letting the water run till it got hot while you grabbed a bowl to fill. Once it was full, you carefully walked back over and set it alongside the other items that you’d just put down.

Then you sat on the edge of the coffee table so that you were facing Nestor. Now that you were taking a moment to really look at him, you saw how tired he looked. He hid it well, but you’d known him for too long to be fooled. Letting out a sigh, you leaned forward so that your elbows were propped against your knees, only then realizing that your legs were slotted between his. You pushed that fact from your mind, choosing instead to focus on the whole entire reason that Nestor had showed up to your apartment in the middle of the night.

“Where else?” you asked as you pulled on a pair of gloves.

“What?”

You gestured vaguely to his whole body. “Where else did you get hurt? Shot, stabbed, bit, whatever happened here,” your laugh was half-hearted as it punctuated your sentence.

He chuckled. “I didn’t get bit. What do you think I do?”

“I don’t think I want to think about it too much,” you told him honestly.

He frowned for a moment but he couldn’t get mad at your honesty. He especially couldn’t get mad about it considering he was the one intruding on you like this. His hesitation spoke volumes. You leaned back, looking at him with raised eyebrows. When he didn’t move or say anything else, you nodded towards his chest. “Gonna have to lose the shirt, Nes.”

“What?”

“You lose your hearing today too?” you joked. “I can’t get to your arm while you’ve got this on.” You tugged at the sleeve on his good arm. “The one time you decide to wear something with sleeves.”

“I wore the sleeves,” he said as he carefully pulled the shirt off over his head, “so not everyone on the street would see me bleeding.”

“Just me?” you asked as you took the shirt from him, setting it on the table next to you while making sure the blood didn’t get on it.

“Just you.” The tiny smirk that was pulling at the end of his mouth made you want to slap him.

“Let me see what the damage is, then.”

You reached for his arm, and you noticed that the smug, amused look on his face faded quickly as your fingers wrapped gently around his arm. You frowned as you looked at the way he had haphazardly wrapped gauze around his arm. It was amazing to you that it was even still clinging to him at all.

“What the hell did you do?” you asked as you slowly and carefully began to unwind the gauze from around his bicep.

“What?”

You held the sad string of bandage in your hands. “I mean what the hell is this?” You laughed despite the situation. “You were in the Navy. They didn’t teach you how to wrap a bandage around a wound?”

“I wasn’t a medic, alright?”

You smiled and shook your head. “Thank god for that. All those officers would’ve been fucked.”

He shook his head at you, but you could see it on his face that he did find it all a little amusing. Neither of you said much as you cleaned up the blood on his arm. As you cleaned away the blood, you saw what the injury on his arm really was. You hadn’t been expecting a bullet wound, although maybe you should’ve known better. Your frown reappeared as you looked closer at it. You knew that he probably needed more help than you were able to give him, that his wound maybe needed the attention of things that weren’t handy in your little first aid kit. But you also knew that the chances of him going to the hospital were slim-to-none. Hospitals asked questions.

You looked at him, and judging by the expression on his face, he knew exactly what you were thinking. He gave a small shrug and shook his head at you. He knew that you were right—you usually were. But he wasn’t going to run the risk of getting seen by a professional. You almost wanted to ask why he didn’t go to Miguel with this. Certainly that family must have someone on call.

“What?” he asked, seeing the way your facial expression kept shifting as you worked through all of your thoughts.

“Nothing.” You didn’t want to get into everything that you were thinking and feeling. Apparently his day had been shitty enough. “Sucks that your ink is gonna be fucked up now.”

“Least I get to keep the arm,” he joked, matching your sarcastic tone.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, something reminiscent of a laugh. “At least, yea.”

Both of you fell quiet as you finished meticulously cleaning out the wound to the best of your ability. He cringed and winced as you moved his arm around, winced a little harder when you dragged the swab with medical alcohol over it. He didn’t pull away, but the tension in his body was impossible to miss. You felt a little bad for him, but you were also keenly aware of the fact that he was the one who decided that this was the next apparently logical step after finishing his Navy stint. You’d never asked too much about it, and you were trying to figure out if you were regretting that now.

“Now,” you grabbed your fresh roll of gauze, “take some fucking notes, alright?” You managed a smile and a small laugh. “That way whatever happened earlier,” you nodded towards the trash can where you’d tossed the old gauze, “won’t happen again.”

“Wasn’t that bad,” he said.

You pulled a face, but it eased into a bit of a smile. “It was pretty bad.” The only reason you were able to joke about it a bit was because it wasn’t as though he was bleeding out on your couch. It was messy, but it wasn’t fatal.

You tore your eyes away for a moment and were surprised to find him actually watching you very closely. His brows were drawn together, lips turned down into a slight but pensive frown. You found yourself smiling at the sight as you went back to finishing the wrap. It was secure, but it wasn’t going to cut off circulation, which was pretty much all you could guarantee him at this point since he wasn’t going to go and get real help.

You almost went to take your gloves off but you stopped yourself. “Any other injuries I should know about?”

He waved you off with his good arm. “I’m fine.”

You pursed your lips for a moment before choosing a different question. “Where else did they get you?”

He huffed out a quiet sigh as he reached for his shirt. He repeated himself. “I’m fine.”

You grabbed the shirt and held it out of reach, feeling like a bit like a schoolyard bully but with better intentions. “Answer the question.”

“I got a graze on my calf but it’s fine. Didn’t even need a bandage.”

You laughed. “I definitely don’t trust your opinion on that.”

“Why not?”

“I saw how well the arm situation went over.” You motioned towards his legs. “Lemme see.”

“I don’t—”

“You came to me, remember?”

He sighed, not able to deny that. He hated how easily he found himself caving when it came to you. It’d always been that way. He used to try and find excuses as to why it worked like that with the two of you, why he could be so cold and harsh with other people but he always seemed to fold when it came to you. He spent years trying to justify it. Somewhere along the way on his drive to your apartment that night, though, he realized that there was no use in trying to come up with reasons for any of it anymore. It’s just how it was with you.

So he gave in. Again. He pulled the leg of his pants up so that you could inspect and decide whether or not you were going to give his cleanup job your seal of approval. He was right that it wasn’t nearly as bad as the wound on his arm. It didn’t need to be wrapped the same way, but a couple band-aids wouldn’t hurt. You didn’t say anything to him about it as you reached for another cotton swab, dousing it with medical alcohol and quickly running it over the cut.

He pulled his leg back. “Fuck. Warn me next time.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said as you rolled your eyes at him. “You got shot today—medical alcohol is the least of your problems.”

He saw you tearing the paper wrapping off of a band-aid and he started shaking his head. “I don’t need a—”

“Keep arguing with me and I’ll put superhero ones on you instead.”

It got him to shut his mouth. He watched, shaking his head at you as you carefully placed the two bandages over his cut so that it was covered. Once you tossed the wrapper into the garbage can, that was when you took your gloves off and let out a sigh of relief.

“Now can I have my shirt?” Nestor asked.

You’d been so wrapped up in your concern that you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was sitting there shirtless in the middle of your living room. Heat rushed to your face and you hated that you got so distracted so quickly. You cleared your throat as you shook your head.

“It’s disgusting. No way you’re wearing this home.”

His face contorted in confusion. “You want me to just walk out of here shirtless?”

You laughed, shaking your head at him. “No. You’ve got stuff here. I’ll go grab you a shirt that isn’t soaked in your blood.”

“Not soaked,” he said as you made your way back towards your bedroom.

When you walked back out to the living room, Nestor’s new shirt in your hand, he was doing his best to straighten up the mess that had been caused because of him. The garbage can was back where it was supposed to be. You noticed that he’d put his bloody shirt in there as well and you weren’t going to pretend that that wasn’t a bit of a relief. He’d put everything back into the first aid kid and closed it, leaving it neatly in the center of the coffee table.

He looked a little out of place, standing shirtless in the middle of your living room like that. You chuckled to yourself, your amusement being just enough to drown out the other feelings bubbling up in your chest. Looking at the ink that covered his skin, some of his tattoos pristinely finished, others only partway to completion and leaving him looking like a bit of a sketchpad, it was hard to remember that he had been in the Navy not that long ago. His tattoos would’ve been hidden, of course, but still. You’d seen the photos of him in his uniform and you still couldn’t really believe it.

But it was also hard to picture him in his new role with the Galindo family too. It made a little sense, in a weird sort of way, but you still weren’t totally sold on it. You didn’t know all the details of what Nestor did for Miguel and his family, and it was undoubtedly better that way. But if he hadn’t even been doing it for very long and he was already turning up to your place in the middle of the night with bullet wounds, you didn’t necessarily see it getting better from here.

“That for me?” his voice snapped you from your train of thought.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat as you held it out to him, “um, yea. Here.”

His brows knit as he reached for it. “What?”

“What?” you parroted back to him.

“What’s the face for?”

It was difficult to miss the touch of sadness in the laugh that you let out. “I mean. You turned up at my door with a gunshot wound. Sorry if I’m not exactly thrilled about it all.”

He pulled the shirt on, raking his fingers back through his hair once it was on. “I’m fine, though. You fixed the bandages.”

“Nestor…” your voice trailed off, calling him out on his deflection without really having to say it.

He sighed, dropping the act for a moment as he stepped in closer to you. “I know.”

“Why are you doing this, anyway?” Your eyes drifted to his arm, the bottom of the gauze visible as it peaked out from underneath the short sleeves of the shirt you’d given him. “You could’ve re-upped.”

He shook his head. “I was sick of bouncing all over the place.”

You couldn’t pretend that you didn’t understand that. But still. “And…this,” your fingers trailed delicately down the outside of his injured arm, “was the only other option?”

He sighed, eyes locked onto your hand, unable to pry his gaze away from where your fingers were touching his skin. “What do you want me to say?”

You sighed, dropping your head back so that you were looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I just. I worry.”

He chuckled. “You didn’t worry while I was enlisted?”

“It was a different worry.”

He nodded understandingly. “I know.”

“Is this gonna become our new thing?” you asked.

“Thought you’d like the excuse to see me.” That stupid little grin was back on his face like it never left.

You rolled your eyes. “Literally any other excuse would do. You don’t even need an excuse.”

“So I got shot for no reason?”

You shoved him on his good side. “Shut up.”

He chuckled as he pulled you into a hug. “It’ll be fine.” He took a deep breath, feeling you relax against him as you finally gave in and hugged him back. “You know I love you.”

“You better,” you mumbled against his shoulder. Neither of you said anything for a moment and then you pulled back so you could look him in the eye. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What’s that?”

“Is this gonna be a regular thing? You showing up here all…you know…”

“I don’t plan on getting shot all the time, no.”

“Nes.”

“Sorry.” The apology sounded mostly genuine. Deflection just came too easily to him. “It’s a risk. Just like everything. If you don’t wanna be involved, I get it, but—”

“No,” you cut him off, “I mean. Yea, I’d rather you worked for someone who didn’t let you get shot up like this. But…but if you get hurt…I’ll always, you know, I’ll always take care of you.”

He smiled, pulling you back into him again. “Good. I hate hospitals.”

You laughed, the sound muffled against his shoulder but he could still feel the vibration of it against him. “Yea, well, not like I can leave you to bandage yourself up apparently. So I’m kind of your only choice.”

He chuckled, resting the side of his head against yours. “Not a bad choice.”

[sparklemichele]

La vida es corta

Nestor Oceteva X Black Reader 

You and Emily let out excited screams as you both embraced in a tight hug.

“You bitch! You look so good!” Emily smiled as she took you in.

“You do too chica.” You both kissed each other’s cheek.

“Come on let’s get to the house we got a drive ahead of us. Antonio can you get her luggage?”

“Yes ma’am.” Antonio picked up your luggage.

You both wrapped arms around each other’s waist as you headed out the airport. You almost stopped short when you exited the airport and saw a good looking, tall man with a goatee and two long cornrow braids parted in the middle standing by a black Escalade SUV.

“Are you ok?” Emily asked as she felt the hesitation in your step.

“Is that your car?”

“Yes.”

“Who is the guy?” You whispered.

“That’s Nestor.” Emily looked at you curiously as you in turn was looking at Nestor. “Oh no Y/N….I know that look. Don’t even think about it. You would break his heart and I need him alert and not at home crying because of you.”

You laughed. “Oh, come on Emily I am not that bad.”

Nestor took in the dark-skinned beauty standing next to Emily. She was absolutely stunning. She had long burgundy and black braids with an undercut. A nose ring to accent her beautiful face.

He opens the door for both ladies. So, this was Emily’s best friend from college. Nestor tried to rack his brain as to your name as Miguel and Emily were talking about your visit for weeks.

“Nestor this is Y/N. Y/N this is Nestor.”

“Nice to meet you.” He told you. You shook hands and your smile caused Nestor’s cock to stir awake. Y/N crawled in the car after Emily. Nestor shut the door. He took a moment to gather himself before getting in the driver seat to take them back to the house. During the ride Emily and you were catching up and he could not help but look at you in the rearview mirror. There were many times your brown eyes caught one another.

“Stop eye fucking him.” Emily whispered in your ear. You could not help but laughed. Emily was on point because that was exactly what you were doing every time your eyes caught his. You had a feeling you were going to be very bad on this trip.

 Miguel pulled you into a hug as soon as you stepped out the car. He kissed your cheek.

“You look so beautiful amor.” He kissed your other cheek.

“How is it possible you have gotten even more handsome since the last I saw you.” You smiled at Miguel and he returned the smile.

“We have missed you so much.” Miguel told you as Emily walked up. She leaned over and told Miguel you and Nestor were eye fucking in the car.

“Emily!”

Miguel laughed. “Oh, really now.” He raised an eyebrow at you and looked over at Nestor who was walking up behind Antonio who was carrying your luggage. “Don’t do it Y/N. I need my lead security guy at the top of his game.”

“That’s what I said!” Emily laughed.

“Come on let’s get inside. Mamá made lunch for everyone.” Miguel escorted you and Emily inside and gave instructions as to what room to put your luggage in to Antonio. After exchanging hugs with Miguel’s mom Dita, you all sat down for lunch. You noticed Nestor went outside to the back yard and sat on one of the couches outside. Your eyes caught with his and you both stared at each other.

“Would you like me to invite him to sit for lunch and you both can play footsies under the table?” Miguel asked with a short chuckle. You threw a piece of vegetable at him from your plate.

“Very funny.”

During the course of lunch, you tried hard to focus on your second family, but Nestor was making it hard. He was not letting up with the gazes and you even saw a smile play on his lips as he watched you. God the things you would do to that man.

You were finally distracted when their nanny brought in their son Cristobal. You stood up from the table and took the little tyke in your arms. He was so adorable. You planted kisses all over his face. This was the first time you met Cristobal as you had not seen Emily and Miguel since she got pregnant which you think happened when they visited you last in New York. You heard Nestor walk back in and your attention drew to him. Emily stood up and took her son from you as you were most likely to drop him since you were so invested in Nestor.

“We gotta go boss.” He told Miguel. Miguel wiped his mouth and stood up from the table.

“When will you be back?” Emily asked with a small frown on her face.

“I will be back before dinner.” Miguel kissed all three women on the forehead before he and Nestor headed out.

“Y/N, why don’t you go rest awhile and I will come get you in time for our spa appointment.”

“Sounds good.” You were tired from your flight.

Over the next few days you and Emily kept busy shopping, pampering and spoiling yourselves. You were disappointed that Nestor had yet to drive you two and you were wondering if Miguel was keeping him busy on purpose. You woke up super early one morning and decided to start a pot of coffee. As you headed to the kitchen you could smell coffee already brewing. As you entered the kitchen you found Nestor sitting at the table reading the newspaper. Hearing you enter he sat the news paper down and looked you up and down. That night you wore boy shorts and a tank top to bed. Even though you had put on a robe you had left it open and Nestor got an eyeful. You were about to tie your robe close but decided against it. Let him see what you were working with. If anyone else woke up, you would tie your robe close.

“Buenos días.” He greeted.

“Good morning.” You smiled at him before helping yourself to a cup of coffee. You sat across from him at the table.

“Do you live here?” You asked taking a sip of coffee.

Nestor chuckled. “No, but it seems like I do. I will be driving you and Mrs. Galindo around today.”

You played it cool in front of him even though you were excited you would be with him all day.

“So how long have you known Miguel?” You took another sip and your eyes wandered to his mouth wondering what it could do. You needed to stop. You did not need to get yourself so worked up so early in the morning.

“Since we were kids. What do you do in the Big Apple?”

“I help queer homeless teenagers find homes and provide therapy. I have my own agency and shelter.”

Nestor raised and eyebrow at you. “Really.”

“Yes, really.” You took another sip trying to keep impure thoughts out of your mind. It was a lost cause. As if reading your mind Nestor smiled at you.

“You want me, don’t you?”

You almost spit out the coffee you just took a sip of. You successfully swallowed and gathered your composure.

“I should ask you the same question.”

Nestor licked his lips. “You know I do.”

Before you could answer Miguel and Emily both walked in the kitchen.

“Uh oh.” You heard Miguel say to Emily.

You looked at them booth as you closed your robe and tied it. “What?”

“Nothing.” Miguel looked at you and Nestor with a smile on his face. “What do you and Emily got planned today. Y/N don’t wear Nestor out today.” Miguel winked at you and you scoffed as you knew what he said had a double meaning. Nestor chuckled and looked back at his paper.

“We shouldn’t be to long today. Will you be able to make our dinner reservations later?” Emily asked.

“Yes, I will be there.”

You finished your coffee and got up to go get dressed for the day. Miguel and Nestor had disappeared until Emily was ready to go. Nestor opened the door for Emily and Antonio opened the door for you. You both as usual were chatting away as they drove to the spa. It was time for another spa day. After the spa you and Emily planned to do more shopping. Emily would not let you pay for anything and you knew you both were putting a dent on Miguel’s black American Express card. Nestor smiled at you as he held the door for you this time. Emily requested Nestor drive you both to the next town over that had a mall. Nestor looked at you in the rearview mirror as he drove, and you could not help but wink at him and he smiled. Your heart caught in your throat. He was so damn fine. You were lost in thoughts of what he would taste like when you heard a loud pop like a firecracker. Then more firecracker sounds, and you saw small dents appear on your side of the door. Nestor came to a halt as cars were stopped in front. “Get down!” he yelled at you both. You unbuckled Emily’s belt and pushed her down in between the seat. You were unbuckling your seatbelt when you heard the front passenger glass shatter and blood and brain matter splattered on your face and clothes. You realized Antonio was shot in the head.

“Stay down!” Nestor roared as he exited the vehicle.

“Nestor!” You yelled after him. You heard Emily scream and you got down in between the seats and hugged her even though you were a bloody mess. Shots were still firing until they abruptly stopped. You slowly looked up and out the rear window and saw Nestor walking back. You sighed with relief.

Part 2 Soon

@rosey1981​ @angels-reyes​ @emmysrandomthoughts​ @kmhappybunny​ @princess-of-fuckup​ @zoogrl05​ @glimmerglittergirl​ @est1887​ @designerwriterchic​ @jennadoll19-blog​ @deepfrz​ @1000heartbeats​ @piccasoe​ @laketaj24​ @readsalot73​ @fangirlextraordinaire​ @captstefanbrandt​ @racing-against-the-sunset​ @titty-teetee​

[calif0rnia-lovers]

'writing is hard af & honestly, you're killing it' shoutouts

there are honestly so many good stories out there. why not share them with your peeps? I put together another group of stories i’ve read recently that left me thinking ‘chef’s kiss. pure perfection.’ if you've recently read some that fit the same criteria, why not reblog & add them to this post for everyone?

as usual, the fics are not limited to Mayans MC. we support all fandoms over here, so check 'em out for your weekend reading.

(bc I know smut isn't the vibe for some) stories with smut are marked with: 💦

last week's shoutouts.

all american

1. a break? | @forthecoloredgirl

pairing: jordan baker x black!reader

bucky barnes

2. no time for later | @syntheticavenger 💦

bucky barnes x reader

manny montana (i.e. rio & johnny t.)

3. act like it | @ks-dreams-fantasies

pairing: johnny tuturro x reader

4. house call (part I) | @irrelevantwriter 💦

pairing: rio x reader

mayans mc (various characters)

5. annoying | @blessedboo

mayans headcanon

6. yearning | @superhoeva

pairing: ez reyes x woc!reader

7. loved you once | @rae-gar-targaryen

pairing: angel reyes x reader

8. obsession | @bellisperennis0

pairing: bishop losa x reader

9. office fun | @sheeshgivemeabreak 💦

pairing: nestor oceteva x reader

10. worried sick | @twistnet

pairing: bishop losa x reader

michael b. jordan (i.e. him or killmonger)

11. one punch man | @marvellovegalore 💦

pairing: erik stevens x reader

12. man up (part I) | @ilovehatembj

pairing: mike b x black!reader

13. mission | @killmongerthirst 💦

pairing: erik killmonger x reader

pedro pascal (i.e. him or javi pena or din)

14. dial tone | @cptnbvcks 💦

pairing: javi x reader

15. drunk call | @hellcaster901 💦

pairing: pedro pascal x reader

16. i miss you | @otherthingsinhead

pairing: javi x reader

17. silent treatment (headcanon) | @thefanbasewhore

pairing: javi & din

sam wilson

18. breathe with me | @samwilsondiaries

pairing: sam wilson x reader

19. easy | @kikilefangirl

pairing: sam wilson x reader

20. let's talk under the stars | @lovleylanii

pairing: sam wilson x black!reader

21. positions | @luciifersson 💦

pairing: sam wilson x reader

stiles stilinski

22. passenger seat | @thatslikely

pairing: stiles stilinski x reader

trevante rhodes

23 the boring are the most interesting (part I) | @twistedcharismaaa

pairing: trevante rhodes x reader

[wisteriaandwafers]

List of series that I have been thinking about a lot recently that no one asked for but here we are

I haven’t been reading as much fan fiction as I used to but I love(d) these series when I read them. I will be doing one for one shots next time I put off doing schoolwork. Two things

Some of these are incomplete or in progress, do with that what you will

Please heed the authors’ warnings. You are responsible for what you consume, Also, 18+warnings are very important.

Marvel

Erik

Waves series by @uzumaki-rebellion

Chunk series by @ghostfacekill-monger

Road trip series by @cecereads209

Uncharted series by @soufcakmistress

Switch series by @erikismybitch

Baby Mama series by @woahitslucyylu

Home Sweet Home by @killmoncoochie

Pull up series by @michaelbwriting

Sugar babe by @dreamingofmilk

Bucky

Lemon pie series by @nacho-bucky

Just one kiss series by @sarahwroteathing

Playing with fire series by @beccaanne814

Next to me series by @sgtjbuccky

Steve

My eyes series by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Slow like honey series by @heli0s-writes

Mayans

I’ll take your man(s) by @blackmissfrizzle

Protective detail series by @drabbles-mc

Lover of mine series by @calif0rnia-lovers

Made to love you series by @justahopelessssromantic

Two Weeks by @starrynite7114

I don’t love you anymore series by @brattyfics

A change of Scenery series by @marvelmaree

Miscellaneous

Fics I stumbled upon at some point, I don’t read for these fandoms but read these and liked them:

Neighbor series by @kumkaniudaku

Love finds its way by @its-me-jessi

I promise by @moonbeambucky

Champions by @savagesugaqueenxx-writes

Partners by @royallyprincesslilly

[blackmissfrizzle]

MA'AM Sweatpants Szn ft Nestor 👀👀👀👀 I'm intrigued lol

No smut yet all I got is fluff for right now

Today was just a movie day, but you weren’t expecting this Nestor. Instead of his slick braids, his hair was wild and instead of slacks and a dress shirt, he wore gray sweatpants and a black hoodie with a gold chain poking.

Nestor began to feel a little nervous under your heated gaze. You’ve always seen him put together. “I know, it’s a little different.” He ran his hand through his hair nervously.

You went behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle. “It is, but I like it. I can finally play with your hair and not be afraid of not messing it up.”

“I’d like that.” Nestor whispered, entwining your fingers with yours and kissed your knuckles.

[crowfootwrites]

Los Guardianes | Part V [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Ok, I promise there's a comedown from all the adrenaline after this! And very soon we will see characters other than Cristóbal lol.

Warnings: mentions of blood, drugs, and domestic violence; police interactions; language | Words: 1,900+

Taglist: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie @est1887 @mveggieburger

Part IV of Los Guardianes

As you thundered down the alley, you glanced over at a wailing Cristóbal, splashes of crimson quickly drying across his arms and t-shirt from where you had carried him.

“It’s gonna be ok, Cristóbal, alright? I promise. Just hang tight,” you shouted over the strained whining of the engine. He quieted, shaking violently in his seat, but you turned your attention back towards the road, quickly reaching the end of the alley. You made a sharp right, having no idea where to go, but hoping to find a main street quickly.

Luck appeared to be on your side. You kept your eye on the rearview, but you didn’t see anyone behind you yet. You came up on a main street, mostly empty of traffic, and made a sharp left, immediately flooring the accelerator again. Your eyes flickered to passing signs, looking for anything you recognized.

“Fuck!” you growled, squeezing the steering wheel as you passed a sign for the Sun Bowl, panic rising in your chest as you realized you were in El Paso, Texas. You had no idea how you were going to get all the way back to California without getting caught, either by your kidnappers or by police, although at this point, you would have preferred the police. But you also had plenty of experience with dirty cops, and if your kidnappers had brought you here, of all places, it seemed likely that the police would be in their pockets.

You whipped past a sign for I-10 northbound and made for the onramp, revving the engine to merge into traffic. You darted immediately into the fast lane. Traffic was relatively light, but you hadn’t yet decided if that was good or bad. Your eyes flicked keenly between the road in front of you, your odometer, and the traffic behind you, watching for signs of a tail. It seemed like you were clear for the time being, but you hesitated to get too comfortable. It wouldn’t be long before the shattered back window drew some kind of attention.

Taking stock of your surroundings, you realized you had an almost full tank of gas. You wouldn’t be able to make it all the way back to Santo Padre on one tank, and you had no idea how you were going to pay for another. But you relegated that to the back of your mind, a concern for later. There was a balled-up hoodie in the backseat, and you stared blankly at the rosary swinging from the rearview. The glove compartment was empty.

Your eyes tracked the nearest freeway sign, realizing I-10 would take you into New Mexico. From there, you could head towards Phoenix. You didn’t love the idea of staying on a major freeway for so long, but it was the quickest way to get where you were going. From just south of Phoenix, you could take smaller highways towards home, and that suited you better. But the feeling of being chased propelled you forward; you were constantly pushing the odometer and scanning of your surroundings.

You reached New Mexico without a problem, but without a solid plan in place, you sped through it. As you careened down the highway towards an empty desert horizon, you heard Cristóbal’s breathing begin to calm. There was no chance of your pulse slowing or your body settling; you sat on the edge of the driver's seat, your thighs and core constantly clenched, ready for hell when it came.

Around two hours after you left El Paso, you were rapidly approaching Deming, New Mexico, and by then your brain was shouting at you to stop. You wanted to try to find a gas station to get yourself and Cristóbal cleaned up, in case you did get pulled over. You also wanted to check the trunk. While you had certainly been making good time, a sneaking suspicion nagged at you, one that questioned why no one had come after you or appeared to have reported the car stolen.

On the far edge of Deming, once you had passed through the center of the city, you followed signs for a gas station that looked, from the highway, to be mostly empty, in the middle of an empty stretch of commercial buildings and vacant lots. You guided the car towards the back of the gas station lot, behind the building, where you breathed a sigh of relief that there were bathrooms on the exterior of the building. You pulled into a parking space and only once you had scanned your surroundings did you get out. You went around to the passenger side door and guided Cristóbal out, grabbing the hoodie from the backseat.

The lock on the bathroom door was broken, so you pushed your way in, gagging a little at the stench. The sink was filthy, but the water ran clear, and you quickly rinsed your skin, watching the pink-tinged water swirl down the drain. Flashes of the man you killed flickered behind your eyes whenever you closed them, bile rising in your throat. The gnawing in your stomach reminded you that you hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours. The adrenaline had kept the hunger at bay, but suddenly you were so hungry you felt nauseous. You helped Cristóbal wash his face and hands, then pulled the hoodie over your soiled shirt, zipping it all the way up.

Back at the car, you popped the trunk and your mouth fell open.

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned. Six bricks of cocaine were packed into the back of the small trunk, along with a duffel bag. You supposed that was why no one had reported the car stolen. It made you feel a little better that the cops wouldn’t necessarily be looking for you, but if you did get pulled over, you’d be fucked. You dug through the duffel bag, finding it full of clothes, and your heart lifted when your fingers skimmed smooth leather. You pulled out a black leather wallet, flipping it over in your hands. There was no ID, but there was a singular twenty dollar bill in it, and that would have to do.

Cash in hand, you tugged Cristóbal into the gas station store with you, grabbing a couple of protein bars and a large bottle of water, wanting to hang on to enough money for gas down the road.

You planned to dispose of the cocaine out in the middle of the desert, so you hightailed it out of Deming. A little less than an hour later, you took a tiny offramp and followed a deserted road past a dilapidated gas station out into the barren desert. You pulled the car off into the dirt, sending a cloud of dust up around you.

“Wait in the car,” you told Cristóbal gently, who nodded at you with wide eyes.

Pulling the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands, you dumped the clothes out of the duffel bag and packed the drugs into it, zipping it up. Careful not to touch anything with your bare hands, you slung it over your shoulder and hauled it towards a thick patch of scrub brush several yards from the road. Dropping the bag behind a clump of brush and prickly pear cacti, you booked it back towards the car, heading immediately back towards the highway.

You were approaching Gila Bend in Arizona as dusk gathered over the skyline. You had already gotten off of I-10 and onto the smaller highway that would take you to Yuma. From there it would be an easy drive to Santo Padre, one you had even made before. You had every intention of driving through the night, desperation fluttering in your heart at the thought of home. You were hungry again, and you could hear Cristóbal’s stomach grumbling from the passenger seat, but you were dangerously low on gas.

Pulling into a small gas station in Gila Bend, you went inside the store to pay, bringing Cristóbal with you. When you came back out, your breath hitched in your throat and you froze. A police officer was standing beside the car, inspecting the shattered back window. Flashbacks flooded your brain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force them out. Through the rapid swirling in your mind, you felt Cristóbal squeezing your hand hard, the touch pulling you out of your trance. Immediately, your mind went into overdrive, laying out a plan.

You approached the car, schooling your features into a timid expression.

The burly, dark-haired officer looked up curiously at your approach, and you caught the slightest softening in his eyes as he studied you and the child clinging to you. He looked young and green, fresh on the job, and you wanted to use that to your favor.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he said, hands authoritative on his hips.

“Evening,” you murmured, dropping your gaze meekly.

“You know it’s illegal to drive with a busted window?” he asked sternly.

You let all of the stress of the last couple of days pour into your brain, breaking the dam behind your eyes. Tears tumbled freely over your cheeks as you looked back up at him and he startled slightly at the sight.

“I’m so sorry, officer,” you sniffled. “My son and I, w–we came from El Paso, trying to get away from my husband. He smashed it as we were leaving. I’m just trying to get us to California so we can stay with my brother.” Your voice caught on a sob, cracking on the last syllable.

The officer’s stance softened and your heart lifted just slightly. His inexperience was showing.

“Who is this car registered to?” he asked.

Your chest tightened as you prayed he wouldn’t run plates or ask to see documentation. “It’s mine, sir,” you whispered, meeting his eyes with your most sorrowful look. “He just didn’t like that we were leaving.” You hoped that you looked wretched enough to prevent him from asking too many questions.

The officer pursed his lips, his thumb lightly tapping his utility belt. “Where you headed to in California, ma’am?” he asked.

“Palm Desert,” you lied smoothly, letting your lower lip tremble for good measure. “I have family there, sir.”

The officer hesitated as he considered what to do next. “And you’ll be safe there?” he asked. “Does your husband know where you’re headed?”

“Probably, sir. Th–they’re the only family I have. But they’re going to help me file a protective order against him. And... start the divorce process,” you mumbled, shuffling your feet in the dirt. You felt a quick pang in your heart as you said the words, ones that weren’t too far from true in another time.

Perhaps sensing that it was a good time to lay it on thick, Cristóbal tugged on your hand. As you glanced down at him, he reached his arms up and you pulled his weary form into your arms, depositing him on your hip.

The officer studied the pair of you intently, then sighed. “Alright. I’m not going to write you a ticket, but once you get to Palm Desert, you need to get that window fixed, do you understand me?”

You nodded fervently. “Thank you – officer, thank you so much,” you stammered, hugging Cristóbal tight. The officer tipped his hat and turned on his heel, making his way towards his police cruiser. Your body felt limp as the rush wore off yet again. Your mind reeled, pushing the limits of what you could handle without sleep. You needed to get home, and soon.

You slid into the driver’s side seat and slid Cristóbal over, helping him buckle his seatbelt.

Praying for an uneventful last leg of your journey, you pulled away from the fluorescent lights of the gas station, headed yet again towards the moonlit horizon.

Part VI of Los Guardianes