#Nestor Oceteva x you

[bullet-prooflove]

Stockton!Series Part Four: Sierra - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @expir3dl0v3 @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Bishop is livid, fucking livid. He can feel the fury chasing through his veins as he stands on the patch of land outside the clubhouse at two in the morning, his eyes fixed on the three men kneeling in front of him, their hands bound behind their backs.

Sanchez, the man who had planned to burn down your house.

Flaco, the man who’d tried to murder you in your sleep.

Ramos, the fucking orchestrator of all this chaos.

Hank and Taza stand on either side of their prisoners, making sure no one gets a stupid fucking idea in their head and tries to run.

It’s fitting in a way that it comes down to the old guard. These were the men who swore to protect you once upon a time. When your father was at his wits end, staring down the bottom of bottle because he didn’t know how to help you. What you don’t know, what you will never know is that they had plans for the list your father made all those years ago. If you hadn’t sought your vengeance first, they would have done it for you.

He hears the roar of the motorcycle in the distance, it tears through the air like a banshee screaming into the night. Noone speaks as the rider pulls up, they simply wait as he climbs off the bike, his snakeskin cowboy boots clicking against the concrete. He’s wearing his kutte tonight, his El Padrino patch showing predominantly in the overhead lights on he strides towards Bishop.

That rage, it seems to simmer. Bishop can feel it radiating from the other man as he draws closer, his eyes glowing like coals from the deepest depths of hell. El Padrino’s out for blood tonight, Bishop can taste it.

“Just these three?” He asks Bishop, indicating towards their captives.

Bishop removes Ramos’s phone from his pocket before handing it to Marcus. The other man studies the messages intently, his thumb scrolling through them as he takes in the details of the hit.

Raze it the ground, he’d written. I want her to burn.

“Smokey wasn’t involved?” Marcus questions, handing the phone back to Bishop.

Bishop shakes his head as he returns it to his pocket.

“I have Riz keeping him company in the clubhouse, figured you’d want to talk to him once you were finished with them.” He says, inclining his head towards the three Stockton men.  

“You were right.” Marcus says, withdrawing the Berretta from the waist band of his trousers.

He points the weapon at Sanchez.

“The one that wanted to burn down their home.” Marcus says before pulling the trigger.

Flaco cries out as the blood splashes across his face, the stench of cordite fills the air as Marcus points the gun at him.

“The one who fired an assault rifle into their bed.” Marcus pulls the trigger again and Flaco falls face first onto the concrete.

“And you,” Marcus says turning his attention to Ramos. “The man who can’t let the past just die, who has to come back and rake it up because he can’t stand the fact a dead man was a better Mayan that he will ever be.”

Ramos laughs, it’s a haunting rasp that echoes through the yard as he stares up at Marcus.

“She grew up pretty didn’t she? Javi’s daughter.” Ramos says, a cruel smile spreading across his features. “Just like her mother.”

There’s a flash of steel behind Marcus’s eyes, his hand threads through Ramo’s hair, gripping it tightly before he tugs it back and jams the Berretta right under his chin.

“A bullet is too good for you.” Marcus snarls as he locks gazes with Ramos.

“She was my girl.” Ramos hisses, his tongue running over his lower lip. “Sierra was mine until he rolled up and took her!”

“She didn’t belong to you.” Marcus snaps, driving the gun even harder into the other man’s jaw. “That is something you have never been able to understand. She had a choice, and she didn’t choose you.”

“I had her anyway.” Ramos reminds him and, in that moment, he looks every inch the animal he is. “I took what was his and I ruined it.”

“I should have let him kill you that night.” Marcus seethes as he wrenches the other man’s head back even further. “I should have let him beat you to death, instead of pulling him off you.”

“But you didn’t and now we’re here.” Ramos grins, blood staining his teeth. “I bet her daughter would have tasted just as sweet as she did…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before the gunshot explodes through the scrapyard, his brains spattering across the concrete.

“Take their kuttes.” Marcus says as he stares down at Ramos’s corpse. “We’re heading up to Stockton.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[obsessedasusual]

Specific Skill Set - Nestor Oceteva

Pairing: Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Summary: Nestor tells you about his new employment opportunity.

Warnings: swearing

Note: Hehe… hi👀 Just popping in for my usual ‘dump and disappear again’ trick. Rewatched SOA recently and it… rehashed a lot of feelings😅 So enjoy some Nestor🥰

“You think it’s a bad idea.” Nestor stated from his spot at the dining table.

You braced yourself against the kitchen bench, taking a break from stacking the dirty dishes to gather your thoughts.

Yes. You did think it was a bad idea. You truthfully thought it was downright stupid.

Nestor sat staring at you, waiting for you to react. Reacting was your strong point. Your face unfortunately lacked the ability to mask your emotions. Sad? People knew. Surprised? People knew. In disbelief over someone’s stupidity? People knew.

So now, as you took in and processed what your partner had just brought up with you, he sat with his eyes locked on your face. Waiting for the tell-tale flick of emotion.

“Nestor,” you turned to face him, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

He had already showered, eager to get out of his uniform and into ‘normal clothes’ as he put it.

When he’d got home that night you could tell straight away something was plaguing him. You’d finally got him to divulge all over dinner.

You crossed your arms over your chest before continuing, “You didn’t even like Marcus most of the time, remember?”

His eyes flicked to the ground before lifting back to you, “That’s history, we’re good now.”

When Nestor had told you he’d had a visit from Marcus Alvarez while at work today, you didn’t really know what to think. Then he continued and said Marcus had offered to bring him over to the Mayans, you’d abruptly stood and started clearing dinner.

“Nes, you were good with Miguel too… that - that hasn’t worked out so good.”

“That’s completely different.” He sighed.

“How?! You and Miguel were family, Nestor. And it all went to shit. You and Marcus hardly know each other-“

“This would be a better fit for me.” Nestor interrupted you, desperate for you to see his logic, “This is more my skill set, you can’t argue that.”

“This wouldn’t even be a job, Nestor. What you had with Miguel? It was horrible. I hated it. But it was a job. What you have now? Listen, I know you don’t like it… but for now it helps pay the bills. It’s only temporary.”

“I’m a fucking mall cop.”

You knew how hard it was for Nestor to go from his position of respect to a mall security guard, but when everything had blown up it was exactly what you needed - security. And truth be told, you had come to appreciate that these days you knew your partner was coming home on time and in one piece.

The knots in your stomach when he wouldn’t answer your call had finally disappeared. You ate normal couple meals at a normal time. But you knew Nestor wasn’t happy.

“Why don’t you look further into that security business idea? I think that could be the better route.” You tried to reason.

He sighed your name, “This is a better fit for me, you know that.”

“I don’t even know what the Mayans do, Nestor! Do you?! I know they ride around on motorbikes, you don’t own a bike! And you’d be starting as a prospect, how do you even make money?” You walked back to him at the table and took his hand, “I know you’re not happy where you are. I want you to be happy, Nestor. But… I don’t want to go back to not knowing if you were coming home again.”

You thought back to all the times Nestor had come home injured, or come home a day or two later than promised. The panic and dread that filled your entire being was something you never wanted to experience again.

Nestor gripped your hand and tugged you to stand between his knees, looking up at you, “I know - I know it was hard for you, me working with Miguel. But this is what I’m good at. I don’t have anything else.” You started to disagree but he jumped in again, “This wouldn’t be like before. I wouldn’t be splitting my time between here and Mexico. I’d be here. I’d be close.”

You sighed and lifted one hand to cup his face gently, brushing your thumb back and forth allowing this moment of peace between you.

You knew Nestor needed this.

But you also knew that you couldn’t sit by in a constant state of anxiety like before.

He could make all the promises in the world but you both knew it didn’t change the fact that he was diving straight back into the war zone.

Nestor may have forgotten about your little talk back when everything hit the fan with Miguel, the promises he’d made when you’d set new boundaries.

No more danger.

You couldn’t control whether he’d go with the Mayans. But you could control your response if he did. You knew, and he’d soon learn, that you would have no choice but to leave if he chose this path.

What’s the value in having boundaries if you didn’t?

[drabbles-mc]

Not My Idea

Nestor Oceteva & GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language

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

Prompt: nature walk

Word Count: 300

A/N: The second I got Nestor for this prompt I knew exactly what I had to do 😂

In the whole time you’d known and worked alongside Nestor, there had been very few times when he didn’t look annoyed, or exhausted, or something adjacent to those emotions. However as the two of you trudged across a seemingly endless path of dirt and sand, he looked more pissed off than usual.

You weren’t exactly enjoying yourself, per se, but Nestor’s annoyance seemed to make yours lessen in a childish way.

“Who’s idea was it to stash this all the way out here?”

“Not fuckin’ mine,” he grumbled.

You chuckled, kicking small stones out of the way as the two of you continued to make your way. “Yeah, you don’t seem like a nature walk kind of guy.”

“This isn’t a—never mind,” he stopped himself short, knowing that you were just trying to get under his skin. Problem was that you had a good track record of being successful at it.

“I would’ve worn better shoes if I knew we were going on a hike,” you joked. You paused as you looked at what he was wearing. “You did know and still didn’t wear better shoes so I guess I’ve got—”

“Are you done?” he cut you off.

You laughed. “I’ll be done when we get where we’re going.” You took a couple steps and landed yourself right beside him, doing your best to make your stride match his. “So I’d put some pep in your step if you wanna get this over with quicker.”

He shook his head, not turning to look at you knowing you’d just start carrying on more. “I’d move faster if I had better shoes on.”

You laughed, nudging his elbow with yours. “Was that a joke? You know how to make those? You’re familiar with humor as an artform?”

“Just keep walking.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beg Me - A Nestor Oceteva/Reader Smut Drabble.

So, I’ve never written for this dude before, but I know a few of you will be interested for me to do so, so here you are!

Words - 385

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The slick sound of his fingers rotating within the heat of your needy core fills the air with lewdness, your sighs longing, his hand clutched at your neck as he stares down at you, his eyes like two dark, onyx shards, lips upturning into a smirk.  

“Please, Nestor,” you breathe, your thighs juddering, a little mewl of delight tumbling from your parted lips as his thumb begins to rub a slick circle over your clit, tight and precise, his mouth peppering kisses along your jaw. “I need your cock.”  

He eyes you curiously, his head tilting a little, his long mane of wild, beautiful curls falling like a curtain over your bare flesh. “I know you do, little doe. You gotta tell me the words I wanna hear first, though.”

You know he won’t relent, he will grant no clemency until you submit entirely, his enjoyment at keeping you hanging on the silk threads of anticipation, primed to snap at any moment, far too great for him to show you any mercy. He is not that man, but he is fair. Eventually.  

You wail at the feel of his fingertips massaging sparks through your walls, his grip around your throat tightening and relaxing, the weight of him pushing you down, making you his. As if you would be anyone else’s.  

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

He blinks slowly, nodding. “Yes, you do. All mine, to do with as I please, and fuck, baby. How I want to pin you down and remind you of that, treat you good, fuck this wet little pussy the way you love me to, but I won’t. Not until I hear it.”

The feeling of his fingers moving in an undulating wave, his thumb stroking sugar drenched embers over thousands of nerve endings has you shaking, whining, dying for more, his gaze intent as he watches you descend into the mindlessness he chases you into, grinning at your stupefaction.  

“Please,” you pant, your body arching against his, Nestor pushing you down with the weight of his broad chest, his cock hard against your hip. “I’m begging you. Please fuck me.”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, removing his fingers and finally, replacing them for the thick heat of his cock. “That’s my good girl. All you had to do was beg me.”

A/N - Please, be good to your author and reblog if you enjoyed this. Don’t want to reblog because it doesn’t match the aesthetic of your blog? That’s fine. Leaving a little comment of appreciation goes a long way!

[garbinge]

New Years Resolution Pt 3

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader (From Part 1 and Part 2) From these August Prompts:  “Finishing a Bucket List"

A/N: I missed posting yesterday, so two fics in one day! Two angsty fics in one day! lol. I loved the fics I wrote for Nestor and this reader and when I saw this prompt I knew it'd be great for them based on their New Years resolution stuff and it actually turned really angsty so I'm SORRRYYYY lol.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Angsty as hell.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie Part 2

“Nes, c’mon, we still have like 2 more things on the list and it’s getting dark!” You called out below as you climbed up the stairs of the lighthouse. 

Nestor’s face stared up at you, covered in sweat as he trekked up the stairs. 

“Doesn’t this count as ‘visiting the abandoned lighthouse’? Can’t we cross it off the list now?” His voice was breathy as he paused from walking, his hands rested on his knees and you could see the sweat glistening on his forehead. 

“No.” You answered him simply and kept moving up the stairs yourself. “We’re almost there, I promise it’ll be worth it.” 

Nestor didn’t say anything, just took one deep breath as he kept on walking up the steep steps. You had reached the top, staying at the top stair before adventuring out on the outdoor gallery area. 

Your arms leaned against the railing as you looked down at him. “Aren’t you in the navy?” You teased him, your head resting on your arms as you impatiently waited for him. 

His gaze looked up at you and shot you daggers which made you smile. “And you must be on crack.” He said at a tone almost impossible to hear through his breaths but you were able to hear him perfectly and just let out a chuckle. 

“I’m not on crack, I’m just excited to almost finish our summer bucket list. This is the last night of our summer and we’re finishing the list if we have to stay out all night.” You argued back to him. 

He had finally reached the last step, he was now standing in front of you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath and relaxed. You stood up straight, taking a minute to put the list in your back pocket and then extend your arm out to him. You had on a long sleeve shirt, it was summer, and it was extremely hot inside this lighthouse, but outside the summer night breeze was strong. Pulling the sleeve down so it was covering your palm, you brought your arm up to his forehead and wiped the sweat from his face. “It’ll be cooler outside.” You leveled with him. 

His eyebrows raised and his head tilted insinuating he wanted to venture out there. You obliged, turning around and stepping onto the grated floor and making your way to the edge with the ocean view. With hands tight on the railing, you sat down, tossing your legs over the grate and placing your armpits over the railing. 

Nestor followed suit, sitting to your right. The sun had just set, the sky was still a dark shade of orangey pink but it was quickly fading away and being consumed by the night sky and fireflies. 

The two of you sat silently for a few minutes taking in the view. 

“I wish it wasn’t your last night.” You spoke up, still staring out at the ocean. 

“I’ll be back near Halloween.” Nestor spoke up trying to offer some contentment. 

“There’s a chance you won’t though.” Despite his efforts, you put up an argument. 

“We had the whole summer together.” 

“It’s never enough.” You spoke up, saying what you wanted to say since June 3rd when he arrived back home. It wasn’t. It was enough at first. When you barely had a week together and there was no time for these talks, you just crammed in dates, movies, dinners, family visits, and everything in between. But having the whole summer together gave you perspective. It would never be enough time. There was alway a limit on your time, on your love it felt like. 

“October I’ll be home for good.” Nestor spoke up, sharing news that he hadn’t yet shared with you before. 

Your head jerked to look at him, a smile was big on your face. Assumptions running wild through your brain. Did he decide to move to the reserves out of active duty? Did he retire? Did he quit? Did this mean that you two could finally take some type of normal next step in your relationship that had been put on pause for the last year due to his enlistment? But as you stared at him, your smile faded. He didn’t look happy, he didn’t look excited to tell you the news. 

“Nestor. What is it?” Your normal inquisitive tone wasn’t there, there was no concern for him, there was only worry, more for yourself than him. You felt the dread fill the air, you felt the tension grow. It got larger the more seconds passed and he said nothing. “Nestor, what the fuck is it?” You were more demanding now. 

“I took a job with Miguel.” 

There it was. The dread. 

“I’m sorry, you what?” 

“He needed security detail, with my experience in the navy it just made sense.” 

You sat there, staring at him as he looked out to the ocean. 

As your head shook, you closed your eyes, really tight, hoping that when you opened them up, this would all be a dream, a nightmare that you could erase from your memory. But as you opened your eyes you were met with the same thing. 

“I don’t, I don’t understand.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, and that was the truth. You didn’t understand any of this. 

“He was there when my brother died and he needs someone now, so I wanna be that for him.” The way Nestor nodded was like he was trying to convince himself as well as you. 

“I was there when your brother died. What about what I need?” It was selfish, but you felt like it was the only play left to sway him back from the decision. 

“It’s different and you know that.” His voice was solid now, now like in the last 2 seconds of exchange between you, he had convinced himself. 

“Yea it’s fuckin’ different!” Your voice raised now. “He’s the reason your brother’s dead!” 

“That’s a wild accusation to just throw around.” Nestor was now getting defensive.

You let out a laugh but it was more like a scoff. Nestor and you had talked at length about his brother and Miguel. It might’ve been years ago but it was a conversation you definitely had. 

“I don’t even know who the fuck you are.” 

He turned to look at you at that statement. His face filled with different emotions, hurt, determination, and a bit of struggle too. 

“I was going to tell you when I was back, I didn’t want to shit on our last night together.” His voice was recognizable, it was the Nestor you knew and loved. Your best friend. But what he was saying hurt you even more. He was going to wait to tell you about this? How long had he been sitting on this information? And more importantly, what really did that mean for the two of you. This summer was everything to you. It was the first summer you spent together, as a couple, if you could even call it that. After his spontaneous visit in the winter, things just were. You never took the time to define your relationship, but that’s because you never had the time. This summer you did, and instead of wasting it on relationship conversations, you took every second, minute, hour to just be in the moment with him. You’d cherish those moments forever, because now, it was all crashing down. 

“You were gonna tell me when you were back because it would have been easier for you, not because you didn’t want to shit on our last night together. If that was true, we wouldn’t be doing this right now.” 

“We can figure out the details when I’m back, I thought you’d be happy I was finished with my tours.” His voice turned pointed again. 

“I’m not happy that you’ll be working for the Galindo Cartel.” Your voice was just as pointed. 

His eyes got wide at that. There were whispers around town, nothing concrete, but you were one who knew a little more than most due to the Oceteva’s close connection with the Galindos. You also had your own history with the young Galindo and that was something you most definitely weren’t willing to bend on, and Nestor should have known that. 

“Look, I get you’re processing, it’s a lot, but we can talk about it more when the time comes.” He was trying to smooth everything over and was doing a terrible job at it all. 

“No we won’t. This is it Nestor.” The words pained you to say outloud but you knew it was the best. You could see where this was headed for both of you, and if Nestor wasn’t going to save himself, you were going to save yourself. 

“What?” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, he was shocked. 

“This is it.” You repeated yourself. He went to argue with you but you spoke up. “Let’s just watch the fireworks.” 

The end of the summer fireworks that were a tradition on the coast were beginning, it was why you waited to cross this item off the bucket list until tonight, you were regretting that now. You started to wonder just how many more things you were going to regret from this summer knowing what you knew now, but you quickly shook the thoughts from your head and grabbed Nestor’s hand and looked out along the horizon where the fireworks began. 

It took a lot for you to do that, the anger in you was bubbling up, the betrayal, the lies, but you knew this was going to be the last memory with Nestor as whatever he was to you and all of the years you spent together as best friends, it deserved to end on a note like this. 

As the fireworks went off, the weight of the list in your backpocket got heavier and heavier. Specifically the item you had saved for last, for tomorrow. 

Say goodbye. 

You had a completely different plan for it, breakfast, a few surprises to pack in his suitcase for him, but now that was looking completely different. It was looking like it was happening now. At least you’d be able to cross the last number off your list, an odd sense of closure to your relationship with him. It wouldn’t ever be enough, though. Years and years of friendship ending over a 5 minute conversation on an abandoned lighthouse, no amount of closure could be enough for this. But it had to be. You knew it had to be. 

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

Something in the Orange

Something in the Orange is now live

AO3 || Wattpad

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

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

Requests: Open

who i write for:

- Mayans MC

• Angel Reyes

• Ez Reyes

• Coco Cruz

• Nestor Oceteva

• Neron “Creeper” Vargas

• Bishop Losa

• Hank Loza

• Gilly Lopez

• Michael “Riz” Ariza

- Sons Of Anarchy

• Jax Teller

• Juice Ortiz

• Opie Winston

• Happy Lowman

• Herman Kozik

• Filip “Chibs” Telford

• Alexander “Tig” Trager

What i take requests for:

• Headcanons

• Preferences

• Would includes

• Most likely to’s

What i don’t take requests for:

• Smut

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

• Reader being related to any of the characters

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

any gifs used are not mine!

[ficnation]

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

Summary: This set of short stories explores individual Mayans' love journeys, following the characters as they discover, pursue, and grow their relationship with you.

!moodboards made by me!

Chapter 1: A Delightful Encounter

Chapter 2: A Sweet Connection

Chapter 1: Untitled

Chapter 2: Untitled

Chapter 1: Untitled

[proceduralpassion]

WIP Game

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

Tagged by bestie @drabbles-mc

Would y'all believe if I said this is how many WIPs are in my files after deleting hella stuff that's been in there for years lmaoooo. This is crazy but idc 🤷🏽‍♀️ please indulge me and ask me stuff

As Fate Would Have It (Original Fiction, Sci-fi/Fantasy)

PIGZ (Original Fiction, Post-Apocalyptic Horror [think Walking Dead but with college students])

I'm The Sky To You (Original Fiction with Aaron Pierre x Jayme Lawson as face claims, Romance)

For Still Loving Even When I'm Aching- OA Zidan x Tiffany Wallace (one-shot)

Turning Tables- OA Zidan x Tiffany Wallace

Love You Like I Will- OA Zidan x Tiffany Wallace (OrganizedCrime!OA x PrivateInvestigator!Tiff)

Always Win- Vorrester (Celebrity!AU, childhood sweethearts)

Live and Die- Vorrester (Syndicate!AU)

Unrelenting- Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x OC

Ached For- Jake Seresin x OC (Hockey!AU)

Going To The Chapel- Javy Machado x OC

Deeply Stuck- Kevin Atwater x OC

Warm Embrace- Kevin Atwater x OC

Always Yours- Kevin Atwater x OC (High School Sweethearts!AU)

All I Ask- Burzek (Biker!Adam x Assassin!Kim)

Dangerous Road- Juice Ortiz x OC

Got Me Feeling The Way I Do- Opie Winston x OC

Fallin'- Nestor Oceteva x OC

Shoot 'em Up- Jay Halstead x OC (Mafia!Jay)

One Chicago Next Gen Fic

I've Got You- Ivan Ortiz x OC (one-shot)

It's Gonna Be A Scream- Chicago PD (Slasher!AU)

No presh tags: @roosterforme @rayslittlekitten @imagineredwood @darqchilddaydreamz @withmyteeth @ashlingiswriting

[bullet-prooflove]

Stockton!Series Part One: El Cuchillo - Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @anime-weeb-4-life @expir3dl0v3 @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie

It’s a guy from Stockton, it’s always a guy from fucking Stockton.

It isn’t the first time you’ve been groped in the clubhouse, but it hasn’t happened in a long time, not since Bishop instated a zero policy. The girls were treated with respect here, it was a common courtesy.

Yuma were usually fine, but there’s always a problem with Stockton. It’s the reason Bishop clears out all the female bartenders before they show up. You don’t know if it’s a management issue because Ramos is a convicted rapist and his views on women have filtered down or if it’s the calibre of men they’re recruiting.

You don’t usually visit the clubhouse, but Carmen's asked you to swing by to pick up some donations for the community centre that Angel had dropped off. Valeria was growing like a weed and most of the clothing was new or almost new. He wanted it to go to good use in the community, they’d been there for him when he suddenly found himself with a two-week-old infant. He was paying it back or forward depending on how you looked at it.

You’re carrying the box of donations when it happens, a hand comes to rest on your ass, squeezing it tightly before an arm snakes around your waist drawing you into their lap. The box slips out of your hands, tumbling across the floor and the room falls silent.

“Ain’t you a pretty little thing?” A voice murmurs in your ear. A stranger’s lips brush the curve of your throat, unfamiliar stubble raking across your skin. “Where have they been keeping you?”

Your own hand comes to rest upon the one that encompasses your waist, gripping the two middle fingers before you wrench them back, breaking them. The crack of bone resounds through the room, a choked scream erupting out of the man whose lap your sitting in. You rise to your feet and turn to face him.

It’s Ramos.

He’s the only one who has the balls to go up against Bishop, to blatantly break clubhouse rules. You doubt he has any idea of your reputation; how deadly you really are. You look towards Bishop, he’s already out of his seat, his jaw tense, those dark eyes of his glittering with rage.

The whole reason Stockton are here is to discuss Santo Padre relinquishing control of the pipeline. Bishop wants to do it in the safest way possible and that means sitting down with both Yuma and Stockton to discuss the options. What you’ve just done might have usurped all of that.

“The bitch broke my fingers.” Ramos spits, his hand trembling as he holds it up.

“You’re lucky she didn’t cut them off and feed them to you.” Bishop snarls before jabbing his finger at Ramos. “You come in here with no fucking respect.”

Ramos leans forward, his elbows resting on the table as he meets Bishop’s gaze.

“Those are your rules not mine.” He says, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “If they’re not somebody’s old lady they’re fair game and I don’t see a ring on this one’s finger.”

“That’s not how we operate.” Bishop snaps, his eyes blazing.

“It is if you want to make this deal.” Ramos says, raising to his feet. “She needs to learn her place and I’m more than happy to be the one to teach her.”

“That’s not fucking happening.” Bishop informs the other man, his gaze full of fury. “Now get the fuck out of my club house before I allow El Cuchillo to cut your fucking dick off.”

“El Cuchillo?” Ramos laughs, jabbing his finger in your direction. “There’s no way this, cunt…”

Bishop inclines his head towards you. You realise what this is, him giving you his blessing. He’s had enough of Stockton, of Ramos and his demands, the way he treats the women he interacts with. If it wasn’t you, it could have been someone else, Carmen, Songbird, Stitches. Ramos needs to learn that their women are off limits and who better to teach him?

Ramos doesn’t see the punch coming, it’s a lighting fast blow to the nose that snaps Ramos’s head right back. Blood erupts, spattering the lower half of his face with crimson.

Two things happen when someone who’s untrained gets punched in the face, they flinch, or they flail. Ramos is a flailer, he comes straight back at you, fists swinging. You’re ready for it. You’ve spent years sparring with Nestor, someone with a much more advanced skillset that Ramos. Ramos is a thug, and a brawler.

The first hit he lands on you is a glancing blow, it hurts like hell, but you’ve taken worse, much worse. It gives you the space to manoeuvre, because he’s over extended, off balanced. You hit him with a right hook that turns his head. He spits blood onto Bishop’s table as you slip the ornate hair pin from your hair. It’s the one that Nestor gave you as a birthday present a couple of years ago, back when you were both still working for the cartel. The surgical steel glints in the light that’s streaming through the window before you dive it into Ramos’s palm, fixing it to the wood.

He screams, it’s a shrill, piercing sound that cuts through the air like a blade. Ramos reaches for the pin but you get there first, tearing it out before you grab the back of his head, slamming it hard into the table. You kick his legs apart, your palm pressing down on the back of his neck as you press the sharp end of the pin between his legs, jabbing it lightly against his balls.

“It’s not fun being in this position, is it?” You ask him. “I hope you think about that, the next time you even consider laying a hand on a woman.”

He curses at you Spanish, and you alter the trajectory of the pin just slightly, so it cuts through the denim of his jeans, scraping across his scotum.

“You know it will take the barest amount of pressure to make you eunuch.” You say conversationally. “Do you think they’d follow you then, that they’d still consider you a leader? Shall we find out?”

“Rosa.” Bishop says quietly, his face impassive as he watches Ramos struggle. “I think he gets the message.”

You sigh before pulling away, releasing Ramos as you take a step back. You wipe your hair pin across your jeans, smearing blood across the thigh. Bishop’s attention turns to Smokey, Stockton’s V.P.

“I’d be taking a vote if I were you.” He tells the other man, grasping the back of Ramos’s kutte and shoving him towards Smokey. “This asshole is going to be the downfall of your whole charter unless someone gets him in line.”

There two men share a look of understanding before Smokey loops Ramos’s arm around his neck and guides him towards the exit. Ramos shoots you a final hostile look before the two of them disappear out the door.

It barely closes behind them before Bishop looks at you and says “Fuck, I need a drink.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[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.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Come Undone - A Nestor Oceteva/Reader Short.

Just a lil’ bit of fluffiness for Nes! 

Words - 583

Warnings - None! 

“Are you okay?”

You shuffle onto your side, turning to look at him. “I’m sleepy.”

He snorts softly at this, reaching to stroke your face. “Oh, really? I could never tell.”

His sarcasm is always soft, never biting, unless he’s angry about something. With you, though, he has little cause to ever be vexed. Well, perhaps when you take much too long deciding on food, or where to go in order to get it in the first place. For a man whose whole life is steeped in bullets and bloodshed, Nestor is remarkably calm and controlled. He has to be, you suppose.  

“I believe the technical term is dick drunk.” Your words have him laughing quietly in an instant.

“That doesn’t sound very technical to me.” The proud smirk that lights up his face has enough wattage behind it to power an entire city. “I’ll take it, though.”  

“Well, why break the habit of a lifetime?” He frowns, pinching you. “Nes, no!”

“You know your sass won’t be tolerated, young lady.” Oh yes, how right he is. “Besides, you’ve only known me a few months. Give it time before you make such sweeping statements.”

You scoff, poking him in the chest. “Oh, I need more than four months, do I, to attest that you soak up compliments like a sponge without even a hint of modesty?”

“You just let me fuck your mouth until I came all over your face, and you’re mentioning modesty?” He snort laughs, shaking his head, rooting a finger into one of his braids and scratching his head.  

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, waving your hand at his comment, sitting up a little. “Whatever.”  

“You’re cute, you know that?”

You beam, watching as he continues to scratch. “I try.” A moment of pause follows, your fingers curling around one of his braids, giving it a gentle shake. “You should just unbraid your hair if your head itches. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair loose, either. How long is it?”

“Long!” he exclaims with a soft snort. “You can unravel ‘em if you like?”

You like.  

Shifting up, you push his back gently, encouraging him to move and seat himself between your legs, Nestor stroking your calves as you unfasten the first one, placing the band down on the nightstand, your fingers unhooking each careful link. He's better at doing his hair than you are yours, you think, knowing that your own endeavours in attempting French braids were not executed quite as neatly. You work up to his scalp, the hair coming loose in your hands, a mountain of black waves becoming free, repeating the same on the other side.  

“Oh wow,” you exclaim softly, letting the curls tumble through your fingers. “You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever encountered. Shit, what’s your conditioner bill like every month?”

He raises his eyebrows, leaning back against you. “Enough for me to consider buying shares in Aussie.” You knew you recognised the scent somewhere.  

“You should wear it down more often,” you comment, Nestor shaking his head.  

“Nah, it gets in the way.”

“Of what?”

He turns, pushing your legs wider apart, kissing you between your breasts. “Lots of things. One in particular.”  

Half an hour later, and you’re left wondering why he’d think that, as clutching handfuls of his beautiful mane while he goes down on you, from your perspective at least, is only an added bonus to anything sexual, rather than the hindrance he alluded it to be.  

[garbinge]

Do What You Gotta Do

Nestor Oceteva x Erin Thomas

Summary: Erin & Nestor through the years.

30 Day Fic Challenge (29/30)

Word Count: 10.5k

A/N: Another Ao3 exchange fic for @drabbles-mc that i never got the chance to post here!

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of bullying, killing. angsty, not a happy ending, more angst lol.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @kmc1989

Erin tended to stay confined in her room when her sister and her friends were over. It never used to be that way, when the two of them were younger she often was found right next to her sister or close behind. They were loud, Erin usually being the more lively of the two but the giggles that traveled throughout the halls of the Thomas house were from both of them. The two Thomas sisters were actually inseparable, even throughout Emily’s years of high school. It was a sister bond that couldn’t be swayed the way a friendship could, a sister bond that could withstand the typical disagreements and fights of siblings. A sister bond that could still hold itself close to what it originally and always was. A sister bond that would eventually break when Emily came home on break from college.

Erin was never a fan of Miguel since that day her older sister brought him over to meet the family on that first Thanksgiving break of Emily’s college years. He was arrogant, opinionated, smug and overall just a dickhead as Erin so boldly put it. Which is why whenever Emily had him and his friends over, Erin found herself fully content alone in her room.

Currently, she sat on her bean bag chair with her headphones over her ears, there was a notebook in her hand as she doodled the time away, her legs were probably going to start falling asleep as the minutes passed with them tucked close to her chest and her feet tangled in the depths of the sunken bean bag.

Despite the volume of her music being pretty high, she could still hear the laughs and noises of her sister’s company downstairs. It was normally around the time she’d use the noise as an excuse to get up and stretch her legs and then close the door but she found herself at this moment, doorless. It was an old school punishment but her mother had insisted their housekeeper removed the door of the younger Thomas girl’s bedroom after a pretty heated argument between the two. Privacy was a privilege and privacy is earned. Her mother’s words were so typical of a parent who had lost control of their teenage daughter and was scrambling to try and regain it back.

Erin was feeling the consequences of her loss of privacy when she looked up to see someone in the hallway staring at her. If she didn’t know her sister had people over she probably would have screamed and made some flailing attempt at bum rushing the man in her own defense but she just assumed it was one of Emily or Miguel’s loser friends.

“You’re fuckin’ creepy.” Erin had removed her headphones and readjusted herself to stare back at the kid.

“Sorry.” The man looked flustered and pointed behind him to the balcony and then to the stairs. “I, uh, they told me to leave them alone so I’m kind of just roaming around trying to avoid them.”

Erin frowned now and stood up, she saw the man tense up by her abruptness and while Erin loved to tease people, she ignored the temptation in her to jump scare this random person as she moved to look over the balcony into the living room.

The patio door had been opened and through the big living room window she could see her sister, Miguel, a couple random people and someone who looked just like the man 5 feet from her but with a beard in the pool that was just recently opened for summer. It was slowly coming together for her, all assumptions, but she was pretty firm in her thinking.

A nod shook from her head as she pushed off the railing and moved back into her room, just as she re-entered the bedroom her head looked over her shoulder at the man who was clearly nervous and frozen in the middle of the hallway.

“No invite needed when there’s no door to block you out.” Erin waved her hand in a very over-exaggerated way to invite the man in.

He was still nervous but listened to the girl’s words and stepped into her room, trying to look around at his surroundings but not wanting to be any more intrusive than he had been.

“Privacy is a privilege.” The girl spoke those words in a mocking way as she plopped down on her bed and waved her arms again in an attempt to tell the man he could look around freely.

“Is that why you don’t have a door?” He asked, looking around at the posters taped to the walls.

“I don’t have a door because Diana is a bitch.”

Nestor turned to look at the girl with an inquisitive look.

“My loving and adoring mother.” Erin smiled so sarcastically.

“Erin.” The man pointed to the artwork above where her door should have been, it was a calligraphy artwork of her name, each letter made from a different tropical plant.

“That’s me.” She said grabbing a stuffed animal off her bed to use as a pillow to rest her arms on.

“Nice picture.” The man tried to match Erin’s sarcasm but it definitely needed some work.

“Last thing my dad got me before he left.”

“Left to where?” He asked so nonchalantly and was left shocked by her response.

“Prison.” It was one word but it felt so heavy leaving Erin’s mouth despite her light way of saying it. Her inflection made prison seem like it was stepping out to run an errand but the weight of what she truly said wasn’t lost on him. His head snapped to look at her, surprise all over his face and all Erin did was smile. “So you know all these fun things about me, what about you, mystery man?”

“Mystery man?” His eyes frowned.

“Okay, mystery boy. Puberty looks fresh on you.” Her face was twisted in a devious smile at the comment and her eyes were scanning him up and down.

“I just turned 17.”

Erin knew she struck a cord there. “Attacking your manliness, men are so easy.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s your name, mystery boy?” She continued with her teasing.

He stood there, annoyed slightly debating if he was going to walk out or cave in and give his name. It only took one second for his decision to be made. All it took was for the slightest smirk to flash on Erin’s face for all but a second, it was likely her reading him, realizing he was about to bolt but whatever it was it made him speak immediately.

“Nestor.”

“Sounds like a serial killer's name.” She scoffed and stood up to go by her desk in search of something.

“You’re really rude.” Nestor was again feeling defensive but he had an odd smile on his face.

“Rude or honest?” Erin responded so quickly it made Nestor realize it probably wasn’t the first time she had been accused of being rude. That and she was still rummaging through the things on her desk with no care in the world.

“Here.” She handed him a DVD, Nestor was now realizing this was what she had been searching for the entire time.

“Kill Bill?” Nestor was still so utterly confused by the girl.

“About a killer. Thought you’d like it.” The sarcasm and humor was now dancing with each other as it flew off her tongue.

“She’s technically an assassin.” Nestor was flipping the DVD box over.

“You’ve seen it?” Erin was leaning back against her desk with her arms crossed.

“About a million times. It’s a classic.” He placed the DVD back on her desk when his eyes caught a bunch of different movies scattered around.

“I’m a movie buff.” She shrugged seeing him look over her array of films.

“Classics.” He specified as he noticed the theme to all the disk cases.

“Dying breed.” Erin responded.

“I’ve seen pretty much every one of these at least 3-4 times.” Nestor was still scanning over the different movies. “Except this one.”

“You’re lying.” It was as serious as he had seen Erin since he met her only ten minutes ago. “You’ve never seen Die Hard.” She phrased it as a statement over a question but the way the movie title fell from her lips was like it was a disgrace. “This is like THE classic. I can’t believe you’ve seen The Sound of fucking Music but not Die Hard.” Her voice was full of shock and honestly a little betrayal as she picked up the Sound of Music disk.

“To be fair I haven’t seen The Sound of Music, either.” Nestor shrugged, the odds the girl would pick up one of the few he hadn’t seen didn’t go over his head.

“Whatever, you’re not missing much, I mean Julie Andrews is perfect but it’s singing and nunnery and love. I mean it’s actually great but I can’t believe the serial killer in my room right now has not watched Die Hard.” It was one long-winded sentence and she took a deep breath at the end as she stared at Nestor before jumping into another statement. “You’re coming over Friday. We’re watching Die Hard.” Her head was shaking as she moved back over to her bed and grabbed something from her nightstand.

“You were going to give me Kill Bill to watch on my own.” This was his version of hard to get.

Erin rolled her eyes but it went unnoticed since she was rummaging around her nightstand just to pull out a post-it and start writing on it.

“You get dragged along with your older brother, don’t you?”

Nestor should have been way more aware now to not be shocked by this girl, but he was pretty taken back that she knew.

“How’d you know?”

She turned back around now and looked at him. “If you were friends with them they wouldn’t kick you out. Plus you look like a younger version of the guy that comes with Miguel.”

“Why don’t you hang out with them?” Nestor was genuinely curious.

“Because my older sister kicked me out too.”

“My parents are dead so my brother feels forced to bring me everywhere.”

It was such a heavy statement but said with such ease, very similar to how Erin had told him about her incarcerated father. And Erin got it. She really got it.

Emily and Erin might have had tension between them now that she was getting more involved with Miguel but they both had something that kept them familial. Their parents. Their father was a dark and mysterious man who ended up in prison when they were young and they both equally hated their mother.

With a nod, Erin stood up and stuck the post-it note to Nestor’s chest. He looked down, she wrote on it upside down so he was able to read it immediately.

Movie Night Friday @ 8, bring candy. Tons of it.

“They always get together on Friday Nights here. Ever since school got out for them.” Erin explained.

“So I’ll be here anyway.” He caught on to what she was saying.

“With candy.” Erin interjected.

“With candy.” He laughed and removed the post-it from his chest.

“Nestor!!” A deep voice from downstairs called up interrupting them. “We gotta go!!!”

“I gotta go.” Nestor pointed and began to take steps towards the empty doorway, the smile while faded still filled his face.

Erin smirked, “Do what you gotta do, mystery boy.”

__________

That was all it took. The two 17 year olds became some version of friends as time passed. Honestly, they could have been best friends, but neither of them would have said it out loud. And lucky enough for the both of them, neither Nestor’s brother or Emily cared enough to say anything to them. They probably hadn’t even taken notice enough to even tease them about it.

Erin was passing the bowl of popcorn over to Nestor who was at the opposite side of the couch.

“So you relate to Maria right?” Nestor’s eyes were glued to the TV as his hand extended out to grab the popcorn.

“Are you asking me if I relate to the main character in Sound of fucking Music?” Erin was sprawled on the couch now, her feet taking up a majority of the cushions. She was taking full offense to Nestor's comment and had the tone to prove it.

“I just mean she got sent to this dude’s house because she doesn’t really like rules. Isn’t your mom sending you to that school because you don’t really like rules?” Nestor’s voice still stayed casual despite Erin’s bark.

“We watch these movies because they’re classics not to start a philosophical discussion, blondie.” Erin dismissed him by extending her left foot out and pushing his thigh slightly. The popcorn bowl in his hand spilled out a couple pieces and Nestor let out a laugh at the whole thing.

“I bleached my hair like two weeks ago, when are you going to drop it, red?” Nestor retorted back as he picked up the fallen pieces of popcorn and placed the bowl on the side table next to him.

“Yea, see, Red just doesn’t land the same.” Erin was now crossing her arms and looking over at Nestor. “Plus, you made the impulsive decision to bleach your hair, like, you chose to do whatever that is with your hair,” she pointed to his fried hair which had already grown in his natural roots, “which earns joking rights, I was born with red hair so it just isn’t the same.”

“Julie Andrews has blonde hair.” Nestor pointed to the TV screen.

“Julie Andrews is Julie Andrews.” That was all the explanation Erin needed to use on that argument.

“How is the new school?” Nestor changed subjects.

“Sucks.” It was obvious Erin didn’t want to talk about it.

“Wow it’s like I can envision it with how you describe it.” He wasn’t going to let her dismiss it that easily.

She sarcastically added in an adverb for more detail, “Really sucks.”

“Well now you’re just talking too much.” She had met her match with Nestor.

“Well, we are watching a movie.” The smile on Erin’s face was saying way more than her words ever could. They were saying she felt uncomfortable, that something had to have happened at the school for her to not lay into it in her comedic, sardonic way.

“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“Fine you want to know?” Erin was shooting up from her laid back position and now sitting up, her body tense and aggravated. It was like she was a bear and Nestor had done nothing but poke her to irateness. “You really want to know how my new private school is? It’s real swell, we get lockers, mine got vandalized but it’s nothing some nail polish remover and a little elbow grease won’t take care of. The classes are great, learning lots, like how to get kids to stop stealing my stuff or knocking it off my desk.”

It had snapped Erin, the frustration from this last week at her new school was getting hard to cope with and now she was like a floodgate of emotions.

Nestor just sat there, calmly, and listened. When she had taken a moment to breathe deep, he slightly moved forward to pause the movie.

The gesture and the silence that now surrounded them made Erin feel comfortable in some odd way. Comfortable enough to say one more thing.

“They call me Connie.” It was spoken at such a whisper, it was so unlike Erin. Nestor wasn’t even sure if he had ever heard her speak at that volume let alone look the way she looked. She usually took most things with stride, with an attitude and comeback.

“Connie?” Nestor frowned, not only uneasy about her state of being but also confused at the name.

“Short for convict. Apparently everyone figured out my dad’s in prison.”

Now it all came together for Nestor, he knew that could be a tipping point for the girl. She might have been nonchalant in how she talked about it but it didn’t take a genius to realize it was a real weight on her.

“Is that what they wrote on your locker?”

“No, that would’ve been too kind. They drew bars and some shitty version of someone dropping a bar of soap.”

Nestor knew there was nothing he could do, it was a completely different school than where he went and there wasn’t any way he could unenroll her so he did what he did best and just sat and listened to her.

“You wanna finish the movie?” That was Erin’s way of signaling she was done with the conversation. It was Friday night, she wanted a weekend free of school and thoughts of it. Before Nestor could answer he was being interrupted by another voice.

“What are you guys watching?” Miguel had popped into the living room from the kitchen, a fresh beer in his hand as he brought it up to his mouth to drink. His other hand was in his pocket as he stood behind the couch, right in the middle of Erin and Nestor who were still on separate sides of the sofa.

“Hey Mikey.” Nestor nodded to the man.

Erin did all but physically gag as she looked at Miguel. Her eyes rolled, her body language shifted and the attitude was practically dripping off her without a word even being spoken.

“Sound of Music, huh?.” Miguel spotted the DVD case on the coffee table. “Didn’t take either of you as the musical type.”

“It’s a classic.” Erin spoke firmly without even looking at Miguel.

“Ah,” He nodded and took another sip of his beer. “And you’re a fan of the classics aren’t you, Erin?”

“Did you need something, Mike?” Erin snapped her head back to look at the man, the Americanized version of his name slipping off her tongue more harshly than the rest of her sentence.

The smile that grew on his face made her want to grab the popcorn bucket and dump it over his head.

“Actually yea, we were all gonna watch a movie in here, your sister sent me to kick you out. I argued to let you guys be, you seem,” He looked at the large amount of space between you and Nestor and chuckled, “cozy.”

“Erin, out. We’re using the TV.” Emily’s voice came echoing in from the outside patio with a few other mumbles of laughs and conversations behind them.

“We have like 3 TVs in this house, you need this one?” Erin’s voice changed. It wasn’t dripping with the same attitude she had towards Miguel, it was still annoyed, but a lovingly annoyed if that was possible.

“Why don’t you use one of the other TVs.” Emily was barely even paying attention to her sister as she spoke.

“Why don’t you guys do something?” Nestor’s brother was now speaking as he joined Miguel in standing behind the couch. His hand resting on the backrest before he jumped over and plopped down in the middle of the couch. Erin was happy her feet weren’t there any longer because she would have had to jerk them back.

Just as she went to argue, the jingle of metal sounded as Nestor’s brother reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Take my car. Scram.” He was throwing them over to Nestor.

“You want to get ice cream?” Nestor asked Erin, not wanting to fight with either Miguel or his brother.

“Foster Freeze.” It was a demand from Erin’s mouth as she stood up and grabbed her stuff off the coffee table and draped her bag over her shoulder.

“Mom’s going to be home at 10. So be home then.” Emily said as she quickly took the spot Erin was in.

“So you kick me out and then give me a curfew?” Erin was turning around with her arms extended out in a version of disbelief.

“For your own good.” Emily acted like she was looking out for her little sister.

“You can lie to yourself but don’t lie to me.” Erin was grabbing her jacket from the closet when the words left her mouth.

Emily had turned on the TV which drowned out the sound of Erin’s voice from her ears. With an eye roll and a heavy stomp of her feet Erin exited the house with a deep exhale, barely missing Nestor’s shoulder with her own. She didn’t want to take her frustration out on him but part of her couldn’t help it when she saw how docile he got around his brother and Miguel.

Silence was at the top of the conversation between Erin and Nestor as they sat across the booth from each other. As each clank of metal utensils hit the glass jars Erin grew more and more annoyed. It felt like her rage was moving a degree up a thermometer with every spoonful of ice cream.

“So you wanna talk about it?” Nestor wasn’t even looking at Erin when the words left his mouth, in fact the words were even muffled as the spoonful of ice cream melted in his mouth.

That broke Erin. Her frustration fully apparent now as she tossed the spoon into her glass causing it to clink around loudly and fall on the table with a couple more loud noises.

“Why the fuck do you suck their dicks like that?”

“Excuse me?” Nestor looked up from his ice cream, frown extremely evident on his face.

“Oh don’t play fuckin’ coy. It doesn’t suit you.” Her back fell against the back of the booth as her arms crossed, her head shook, and her eyes stared off to the side of the shoppe.

“What are you talking about?” Nestor was looking straight at Erin now.

“That shit with them, you act like they’re cool, like–like they’re your friends.” The disgust was evident in her voice.

“I’m pretty sure I said like five words.” Nestor was confused, he had asked Erin if she wanted to talk about it because he thought all her frustration was at Emily not him.

“Hey Mikey.” Erin’s voice got deep as she rocked her shoulders back and forth in an attempt to mock Nestor. If he thought the way she said Mike before was harsh, the addition of the vowel on the end of the man’s nickname in her mockery was ten times that.

“That’s two words.” Nestor was getting annoyed, his leg began shaking as he moved it up and down.

“Yea two words that make me want to throw up–you’re so fucking nice to them, for what?” Erin’s face was twisted in pure confusion. In her head right now there was no explanation that would be worthy to her. She couldn’t stand any one of her sister’s friends, and honestly, her sister was probably top of that list at the moment. Truthfully, all of this anger was a result of pain and hurt. She missed her sister, and blamed the people she hung out with for taking her away. While that did hold some truth, most of Erin’s anger was misplaced there, it really came from her feeling like she was losing everyone around her. She lost her father when he went to jail, her mother shortly after that to her attitude and the bottle, and now her sister.

“They’re all I got.” Nestor’s voice was so much the opposite of Erin’s, his demeanor was calm, solemn, almost peaceful. “When I lost my parents, my brother took me in, he might be a dick sometimes but he’s done everything for me.” He shook his head, “and Mikey, he’s like a brother to me.” A shrug left his shoulders. “I get it, they’re jerks right, but when push came to shove they’d be there for me.”

“You believe that?” Erin still was holding on to whatever parts of her anger that she could even though she sympathized with Nestor, maybe even got a little jealous of the dynamics he shared.

“I know it.” Nestor was firm in his voice, no doubt at all. “It’s the same with you, your sister would do anything for you.”

“I don’t believe that.” Erin rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have to, but it’s the truth.” Nestor scooped the last of his ice cream in his mouth and nodded. “When it comes down to that make or break moment, she’d be there for you.”

Another set of eye rolls came from Erin as she let out a huff. “I don’t have anyone.”

“You have me.” Nestor now leaned back against the booth and crossed his own arms matching Erin’s pose.

Her eyes darted up immediately to meet his. “I don’t believe that.” She repeated the same sentence as before but this time it was said in a way like she wanted him to convince her.

“Well keep up with the crude comments and I don’t know.” He was joking, but before he could double down with another joke his eyes met Erin’s and he knew immediately what she was looking for.

“You got me, you know that, right?”

Erin sat there, there were a bunch of things going through her mind at this point. Her frustration was still lingering. Thoughts of Miguel and Nestor’s brother casually floating around, her sister, the relationship they used to have compared to now, the words Nestor said about Emily, wondering if they really did hold truth. But now, the main thing in her head was that this man, this man who was just some strange boy standing in front of her bedroom door 5 months ago was now telling her he was going to be there for her–no, is there for her. Erin hadn’t trusted a man since her father and despite the love she had for him, he was the reason she couldn’t find it in her to trust anyone. Everyone leaves. It was what she had to tell herself to keep the emotions at bay, control situations, it was why the Emily situation hurt her so much, she trusted her and now felt like she was betraying that trust.

And now, the boy who was telling her that Emily wasn’t betraying her, that when it really came down to it she’d be there, was telling her that he was there.

“I don’t have anyone.” Erin mumbled the words but Nestor heard them perfectly.

“Hey, I’m here.” Nestor was bending his head down to meet Erin’s gaze which had fallen to the floor. His voice was optimistic, it was almost like he didn’t understand the weight of what he was saying, and honestly he didn’t, but it didn’t matter to Erin because in this moment she just needed someone, someone who would be there.

“Okay.” Erin’s voice had completely flipped since the beginning of their conversation. It was soft, shaky, and even a little weepy as a tear fell down her cheek.

Nestor’s hand came out to grab hers and with it came a squeeze. Erin was glad that was all it was because if he had gotten up to hug her it would have released the flood gates entirely and she would be a sobbing mess in the middle of her favorite ice cream place.

“I’m gonna go pay, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Erin had started to pull herself back together, her attitude and normal toned voice coming back along with the tears fully disappeared from her face now as she wiped it clean.

“Yea, do what you gotta do.”

____________

Erin didn’t want to go to prom, it wasn’t exactly her scene. It also wasn’t like she was close friends with anyone at her school, most everyone found their reasons to bully her and make fun of her. All of that gave her one giant reason to say no to going to prom. But then Diana happened to come across the info online. If there was shopping involved, especially for a dress, Diane was in. That didn’t mean Erin wasn’t going to actively and loudly complain about it. Every time they went dress shopping, every fitting, every mention at something to do with prom, Erin let her opinion on it be known. But deep down, she was happy that her mom was forcing her to go, because it brought her and Emily together on something and it was the first time in a long time where the two girls actually enjoyed being together.

The two were laughing, they were whispering and gossiping like middle schoolers, they were causing trouble in stores, having their mother yell at them like they were children again. It made every prom task bearable. Emily had been home for the summer, Miguel had stayed back on campus for an additional month to take a quick summer course. It was what Erin would have described as a dream. Her weeknights were movies with Nestor and ice cream afterwards with Emily. Once or twice the three hung out together, but that basically consisted of Nestor third wheeling all while the young Thomas girl teased him for being so quiet and shy.

The month of May might have become some of Erin’s most treasured days. It didn’t matter that she had to go to prom or that she had to go to that stupid school, she had two of her favorite people to lean on and that was all she needed.

The doorbell rang and it caused a frown to fill Erin’s face as she turned in her floor length royal blue dress that was picked out by her mother. Emily’s face turned into a grin as she moved to the door, resting her digital camera to the side for the first time since her little sister had entered the living room. It didn’t matter that Emily was the one who was upstairs with Erin for hours getting her ready and was able to take all of this in then, she needed to document as much of this moment as possible.

“Who is that?” Diana looked visibly annoyed. The audacity of someone interrupting her special night.

As Emily approached with someone very closely behind her, she stepped aside as the hallway ended and the living room began and swiftly moved to the right. With eagerness in her voice, and a smile that easily reached from ear to ear, she introduced the person who was walking in behind her.

“Look who’s here! It’s Nestor!”

Erin’s face was shocked, not because he was here and seeing her in this ridiculous prom dress but because he was standing 5 feet from her, in a suit. His hair was freshly shaped up on the sides and gelled curls sitting on the top, as Erin’s eyes moved down, she saw his black skinny tie tucked behind the lapels of his black suit jacket, all accented against the crisp white button up. Her gaze moved over to his left where his pocket sat. Within it was a rich blue handkerchief sticking out where a matching boutonniere was clipped on. The deep blue flower and baby’s breath didn’t just match her dress with the perfect royal hue but it was paired with the corsage he was fiddling with in his hands.

That’s when a small smile tugged at her face. As she stared at the corsage in his hands, she saw the rings still on his hands, one his brother had gifted him for his birthday, and the other that he had always sported since she met him. Taking in this completely new Nestor felt a lot easier seeing those rings.

“What are you doing here?” Erin’s voice was a whisper and despite her excitement peaking through slightly, there was still some confusion in her tone.

“I, uh, asked him to be your date tonight.” Emily had her mouth closed but she was smiling as she said it, her eyes bouncing from her sister and the man to her left.

“Oh shoot!” Emily gasped. “I should have taken a picture of your reaction, can you make the face again, reenact it, oh my gosh, look it’s Nestor in a suit!” Emily tried to mimic her words from before while adding in some description for context of what she was looking for from Erin. But before she could even bring the camera up to her face to look through the viewfinder, there was a nagging voice interrupting.

“Emily, you didn’t match the colors. If you were going to do this little surprise for your sister, the least you could have done was put a little effort into getting them to look like dates.” Diana’s whining voice filled the air.

“Mom, can you just relax, enjoy the moment.” Emily was moving over to her mother to ease the tension she was inevitably bringing to the room. “Nestor, go over by Erin, let us take a few pictures so you both can get out of here.” Emily’s eyes rolled to look over at her mother and then quickly changed to look through her camera, ready to snap a few pictures and push the two out.

The minute Erin closed the car door she was turning to look at Nestor. “What the hell are you doing?

“Going to prom.” Nestor shrugged as he leaned forward to turn the key into the ignition.

“Yea, but why?” Erin looked around to realize that this was his brother’s car, his prize possession. “And why are we in your brother's car?”

“Your sister asked. Plus, I figured you could use some friendly company tonight.” It was said so nonchalantly.

“And the car?” Erin accepted his statement about coming with her to prom and was waiting for the answer to her last question.

“The car,” his grin grew wide, “the car, I stole from my brother.” Nestor began to drive out of the Thomas’ driveway. His left hand was tight on the wheel and his right was resting comfortably on the middle console as the 91 Nissan coasted on the neighborhood streets of Santo Padre.

“He’s gonna kill you.” Erin matched his grin and fell back comfortably in the seat.

“Worth it.” A shrug fell from Nestor’s shoulders before he turned right to get on the main highway. “I know how much you love this car, it’s the one thing about my brother that doesn’t make you mumble under your breath or roll your eyes.” Nestor knew Erin so well. “If anything,” he pointed with his right hand while still staring out the windshield, “you actually stare mesmerized at this thing whenever he pulls up in it.”

“It’s cool.” Her shoulders lifted up and fell quickly trying to seem as indifferent as possible. “Plus,” she quickly added another statement in her own defense, “it's purple, who doesn’t stare at a purple car.”

Nestor nodded, he wasn’t going to argue with the girl, especially not on her prom night. Instead he just looked at how empty the highway was, then a thought popped into his brain. It took him a minute to decide if it was a good idea but ultimately he thought ‘what did he have to lose’? His foot pressed against the gas, his eyes quickly glancing over to see the pure joy on Erin’s face as the odometer kept increasing as they made their way to her school.

___________

Prom was uneventful, but if Erin was honest she was beyond grateful Nestor was there with her. It made the night not just bearable but maybe even a little enjoyable.

Currently the two were leaving the photo booth, full of laughs. ‘The fun flask’, as Erin referred to it, was on its last leg. There was maybe 4 shots left in it which would likely not be evenly distributed between them both.

“You wanna dance?” Nestor’s hand on Erin’s back as he guided her out of the booth didn’t go unnoticed by the girl.

“You’re drunk.” She accused him with a quick whip of her neck to stare at him shocked by his words.

“No, but you are. You’ve been sipping way more from that flask than I have.” Nestor pointed out.

Erin’s eyes moved from Nestor to the dance floor to see the big crowd of people on the wooden tiles. “If I’m drunk, I don’t know how smart hitting the dance floor’s gonna be, Nes.” Erin’s eyebrows lifted up as he head tilted.

“What’d I tell you? I got you.” His hand tightened on her back and before she could answer her feet were moving her closer to the crowd.

The song slowed down, offering them up a moment to take things easy as they swayed back and forth. Nestor’s hands were comfortably resting on Nestor’s back, her long red hair brushing against them as the slight breeze from their side by side movements. Nestor wasn’t drunk, but those couple shots he did take earlier in the night were giving him the liquid courage to have his fingers playing around in the ends of it.

And Erin was drunk enough to not only let it happen but mention it.

“You’re handsy tonight.” She beamed as she said it.

“So are you.” Nestor looked down to where her arms rested on his shoulders, her hands were twisted over each other behind his neck and mindlessly playing with the curls of his she could reach.

“You know, between you and the fun flask, this night went from bearable to maybe a little enjoyable, to one of the best nights I’ve had in a really long time.”

It was one of the handful of times Erin had said something that wasn’t tainted in sarcasm or a joke. Any one of those attributes that while Nestor had a secret appreciation for, he couldn’t help but also love these rare intimate moments with the girl.

“I’m glad I came.” Nestor held his composure as he always did, despite feeling the nerves and sweat all as his heartbeat sped up.

Subconsciously the two moved closer together, their bodies resting against each other, their foreheads centimeters from touching. Nestor’s left hand moved up to grab Erin’s right. His hand first caressed up to her arm, it was light and made Erin’s heart flutter, but then when it rested as a soft grip on her hand her heart started to beat heavy. She suddenly became super aware of how close the two were to each other. Every thought running through her mind at light speed. The endless nights the two had spent together but not one where they were remotely this close, or looked this good. The laughs were nothing compared to the giggles the two shared tonight. Erin never realized any of this before, and if she did she made damn sure to bury it deep without giving it a single thought. Nestor on the other hand, realized it every time he looked at her, every time she spoke, yelled, rolled her eyes. From the moment he saw her, Nestor knew he had feelings for her. But he never could find it in him to act on it.

It’s why now he couldn’t either.

“I have to tell you something.” The words were drowned out by the crowd and music, so when Erin had replied “what?” it was in hopes Nestor would repeat the sentence but instead he just shared the news and to his luck the DJ had just began to fade out the song.

“I joined the Navy, I leave on the first day of summer.”

Erin felt everything in her freeze, but that was after everything dropped. Her heart fell to her stomach, her stomach fell to the floor it felt like and then everything just froze. She thought it was like 10 minutes of her just standing there, but it was barely 10 seconds.

“Wow–uh,–well, we know blue is your color.” Erin’s eyes moved to the boutonniere and her hands loosened slightly from behind his neck but didn’t fall completely.

“Are you mad?” The worry in Nestor’s face did something to Erin. It made everything that she wanted to do just mere seconds ago disappear. The sarcasm was rising back up, her coping mechanism to this exact thing falling into all the right places. But instead of being mean about it, she took her acerbity and decided to joke.

“Not mad, G.I. Joe. Confused how you’re going to make it out at sea when you couldn’t even swim in a pool after watching Jaws.”

“I told you that happened when I was a kid, I was like 10.” Nestor defended himself.

“When we rewatched it I saw how you looked at our pool the next day. Looking for fins and ghosts of marine biologists.”

“I’m glad you’re not mad, I thought you’d be mad.”

If he says mad one more time I’m going to rage. Was the thought in her head but the words that came out were ones of opposition. “Nope, not mad.

“I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” Nestor smiled, the irony that he was removing her hands from around his neck in the moment he said that. “I gotta take a piss, I’ll be right back, okay?” He squeezed her hands before dropping them and walking away before he could hear the girl’s answer.

Erin stood there, alone, watching Nestor walk away as every emotion she tried so hard to bury for years came barreling to the forefront and just let out a murmur.

“Yea, do what you gotta do.”

__________

The time passed differently when there was a countdown attached to it. There was always a weight hanging over each day, pressure to make the most out of what was left. Each day that the sun stayed out a little longer meant a little less time that was left Nestor went away to boot camp. It was ironic how the days were getting longer but it was just a sign that they were running out.

“Last night home.” Erin plopped down next to Nestor who was sitting on a park bench as the festival that always kicked off the day before summer started commenced in front of them. Erin was holding out a corn dog for Nestor while she started to eat hers.

“I don’t know why you like these things.” He spoke completely ignoring her comment and going to take a bite from the corndog before he took it out of her hand.

“Yet you still eat them.” Erin’s mouth was full as she spoke with a shoulder raise and head shake in disbelief at the words coming out of his mouth.

“It’s like they’re so bad that they’re good.” He explained.

It got quiet between the two as they ate, a comfortable silence as the noises of the festival around them filled the air. Laughs from children chasing each other on the concrete street that was blocked off from cars and littered with food trucks and stands selling things. Music from a live band just a few 100 feet to their left near the park’s lake. The white noise from the bouncy houses that were behind them set up on the large fields of grass.

“Remember this festival last year?” Erin changed topics as she dipped half of her corn dog in cheese.

As she did it, Nestor looked over and realized what she was doing and quickly dipped his own food into the small cheese cup in Erin’s hand.

“Yea, you threw up the 5 corndogs you ate.” Nestor let out a laugh.

“It was 7,” she clarified, those extra two corn dogs might not have mattered to anyone else but to her they were the culprits of what pushed her to get sick, “but I meant the movie.”

“Sound of Music.” Nestor’s voice had a smile in it, almost like he knew what Erin was going to say next.

“The unfinished movie.” There was a bit of disappointment in her voice.

“They might be playing it tonight.” Hopeful, that was the best way to describe how he was speaking to Erin.

“They aren’t. I checked.” Erin let out a sigh as she fell back against the rest of the bench.

“You want to head to your place? We could watch it there.”

It was obvious, the tension in the air. It all came down to these last few hours. Erin wanted to say yes, she wanted to share the full list of things she had started on prom night. She wanted to grab him by his stupid band t-shirt and pull his face to her own, she wanted to tell him how she felt, every thought that she had regarding him. She wanted to tell him not to go, not to leave. But instead nothing of that sort came out.

“No, it’s okay. Let’s just walk around.” Erin shook her head and immediately was standing up so that there was no room for arguments. She was probably two or three feet away when she turned to the man and nodded her head to the side, pointing to the large area of the park that was blocked off with fair games and prizes. “Let’s see who can beat who in the water gun race, we can call it your first bootcamp training.”

Nestor looked down, his arm was extended on the back rest of the bench as he let out a laugh. “You’re on.”

______

If Erin thought the weight of the days prior felt heavy, this morning made it look like the force of a feather. It took everything in her to get out of bed, to get dressed. It didn’t help that saying goodbye felt nothing like their normal days. Despite the obviousness of it all, it was the surrounding of people Erin couldn’t stand. People who wouldn’t miss him the way she would, some who would but in their own way. Erin stood behind Miguel and the other Oceteva. Emily was there too, along with a few of their other friends. Most of them standing ahead of Erin, giving handshakes and pep talks mixed with hugs and laughs. Erin felt like a stranger, like an outsider. It was a feeling she’d have to get used to, she was about to be alone again. She hated comparing the two, but it reminded her heavily about her father. Erin couldn’t help but think that she was just meant to be in this world solo, no friends, no one close, just her against life.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing, but after experiencing loss time and time again, Erin couldn’t help but feel she just made it worse on herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sun suddenly stopped shining on her face and it was just a dark shadow in replacement of it. Looking up she saw Nestor, in his boot camp uniform, his hair freshly cut, likely by his brother this morning. He looked nothing like the man she knew, which she thought would make this easier but it made it even harder.

“So I guess, this is it.” Erin held her hand up in an effort to block the sun from hitting her eyes but it was just a displacement behavior to hide her face from Nestor and hopefully manage any emotion that was building up.

“I’m gonna write, you know.” Nestor had his typical young-teen jokey tone of voice behind the little chuckle that came out.

He didn’t realize it at first but it doubled down on everything to Erin. She didn’t feel seen, or understood, if anything it made her think that everything she was feeling was invalid or overexaggerated.

The pain became so evident in Erin’s eyes that no sunglasses, hand over the forehead, or shadow could hide it.

“Hey, I’m serious.” His voice turned earnest. Before any other words could be spoken, Nestor quickly grabbed the girl and brought her against his chest in an embrace. His hands were resting over her shoulders and his head just over her own. Nestor would have never admitted it to anyone but he never thought the smell of shampoo would break his heart the way it was now as he took a harsh inhale as the two teenagers hugged. “I get visitor days, too. I’ll let you know when they are, it’s gonna fly by. I’ll be home before you know it.”

Erin immediately thought about time and how quick the days from prom to now went, how she blinked and the moment arrived and for a minute felt optimistic. Until, she remembered how time worked. Time changed things, time passed slowly when inconvenient and fast when you wanted a moment to savor it. Time rarely worked out in anyone’s favor, and time never worked in Erin’s. She flashed back to saying goodbye to her father, how she expected her weekends to be in a prison parloir amongst people just like her waiting to talk to their convicted love ones but that never happen. Erin was taken off the list and never heard from the man again. She wanted to threaten Nestor, tell him that he had to write, that he had to reach out but it wasn’t her. To be honest, the part of her that knew how to guard herself from pain and hurt started coming out the minute Nestor had told her about joining the Navy and right now was the moment all that progress was going to break or become as solid as a concrete wall.

“Plus, we still have to finish Sound of Music, so obviously I’ll be home soon so we can do that.” Nestor was getting nervous by the girl’s lack of words, it wasn’t like Erin to go silent like this. He’d take any type of response from her, even a sarcastic one. Anything was better than the silence. So he thought.

“Alright, sailor.” Erin was pulling away from the hug but to Nestor it felt more like she was pushing him away. “Don’t all stand on the same side of the ship.” Erin let out a sarcastic joke that normally Nestor would have rolled his eyes at or even responded too but the words gutted him. He didn’t want a sarcastic response, he wanted something deep and real from the girl. It’s when he finally realized what Erin could’ve been feeling.

“You know you still got me, right? I’m not leaving you, I’m–”

“Doing what you gotta do.” Erin’s arms were coming to rub up and down on Nestor’s arm. It was a gesture to ease him but nothing in this moment was going to make either of them feel comfortable.

All Nestor did was nod in response. Erin gave a half smile and squeezed his arm one last time to say goodbye. His brother had honked the horn and yelled out that they needed to go to stay on time. Erin knew there were a few more people who needed to offer their send offs so instead of Nestor leaving her, she pushed him away and let that concrete wall in her heart stand strong and tall.

“Alright sailor, go do what you gotta do.”

_______________

One letter. No visits. Eight years.

It was about one month in when Erin received the letter from Nestor. It had been following the 3 she sent on her own. The first two were nonsensical, filling him in on silly things like town happenings, new movies, what’s been going on with her family. When she didn’t get a reply she just figured there were rules for the new trainees, they probably had limits and needed to build a tolerance and understanding to being separated from home for periods of time. But when Emily had come home and told Erin that Nestor’s brother had passed away, Erin didn’t care about Navy rules. That’s what the third letter was, it was a beautifully written note of her condolences, her sorrows, and her love and pain for Nestor, despite her opinion on the older Oceteva, she was fully aware of the bond they shared and how this would affect Nestor especially after losing his parents.

When she got his letter back, she knew it was going to be filled with pain and sadness, but she didn’t expect it to be towards her. She read it over and over again, to make sure she was understanding the words correctly. It was a form of torture reading that letter again and again. The coldness in Nestor, the lack of depth in his words, the inadequate reasonings as to why he was doing this.

After boot camp I’m deploying for 3 cycles. Not coming home anytime soon. Writing to let you know that you should stop. Stop sending letters, stop reaching out, stop thinking about me completely.

-Oceteva

After the first day of rereading it came the second. On that second day she only read it once before she set it to flames along with any other mental attachment she had to Nestor. Her pain took her so far that she left Santo Padre on the third day and never looked back.

But here she was eight years later. Back in her hometown but a completely different person. One of ferocity and of independence. She was a person who didn’t take shit from anyone, opinionated and never stifled. It was honestly a lot of her traits from a teenager but heightened, pulled more to the forefront. She never stayed in one place or held onto a relationship for too long, either. She was truly a wildcard.

Currently she was holding up the rocker sign to the security camera that sat in the entrance of her older sister’s house. She didn’t exactly want to be there, but when Miguel called her while she could easily say no to him, she couldn’t say no to Emily. And the way he described it, Emily needed help.

Erin sat on the couch, feeling the weight of their conversation.

“I do always disappear because I hate this fucking town. I never loved it like you do.” Erin was visibly stressed as she spoke to her sister.

“I know but it’s where we grew up. So all our memories are here.” Emily had a definiteness to her words.

“Mm-hmm. Yeah.” Erin crossed her arms and looked up at Emily, a sense of power in her stare. “That’s the problem.” A sarcastic smile filled her face for the briefest second before it fell into a straight face. “I thought you out of all people would understand.” Erin pushed off the kitchen island and crossed her arms.

“Understand what?” Emily was frowning as she brought her espresso cup up to her mouth.

“How often do you see EZ, Em? Must be tough living in this small town running into your teenage sweetheart. The pride of Santo Padre.” Erin was purposely choosing words that would sting and felt emotionally heavy in hopes Emily would get what she was saying without having to say what she actually meant out loud.

The look on Emily’s face gave it away. It was a mix of feeling sick at the mention of EZ, since he went away and Emily went to college it was never brought up again, never talked about between the sisters. It didn’t help that the two didn’t exactly have the bond they used to but it was likely that even if they did Emily would have never brought it up.

“I didn’t realize–” Emily shook her head looking for the right words to say, “you left so soon after he did that I just–” she stopped that sentence and started a new one realizing that thought wasn’t what should have been the sentiment shared to her little sister in this moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

That wasn’t exactly the most comforting response either but it was better than rehashing the details.

“All good. We all got our own lives to live, shit to do. Obligations.” That last word was said with such grit and harshness, a repetition of something Emily had used earlier in her argument with Erin to get a leg up on her and belittle her little sister but now was coming back to bite her.

“Make yourself at home, Miguel is out on a work thing and I’m about to head out, we’re still in the process of unpacking so it’s kind of crazy.” Emily changed the subject and took a deep inhale as a way to clear the air from their discussion.

“You got doors on your bedrooms so it’s automatically better than the last house I lived at in Santo Padre.” Erin smirked, a smile where her teeth didn’t show and her cheeks barely raised. It was a smile that would have earned her a slap across the face from her mother but from Emily it just earned her the same smile back as she walked away.

Which is what lead Erin to be sitting on the couch, her arm over her forehead with her eyes shut wishing she was anywhere but here. She shot up quickly though at the sound of a door closing, not sure who it could be if Miguel and Emily were out, she knew her sister had hired help around the house with cleaning and that Miguel had security so it was extremely likely to be someone of that nature but it didn’t stop her from being curious.

As she stood up she peaked into the kitchen where she saw the fridge door open and a pair of slacks and dress shoes. The top half of the person was covered by the door but she assumed by the looks of it, it was a security person.

“Just announcing my presence, don’t want to be shot or anything, I’m Emily’s sister, gonna be here for a while.”

A hand rested on the door of the fridge now it stayed there for 10 seconds before it closed revealing the person in entirety.

Erin recognized him immediately, eight years of differences but she could see right through them. After looking at everything that was the same, she took in what was different. He was more built now, he always had a broad chest but now it was more defined. His hair was in two french braids but you could see the curls peeking out through his baby hairs. As her eyes moved down she saw him wearing a button up dress shirt, anyone else could have overseen the purple color to it, but it was a perfect match to what the eldest Oceteva brother drove when they were in high school.

“What are you doing here?” Nestor’s voice was shaky as he spoke.

Erin let out a scoff. “What am I doing here? It’s my sister's house. What are you doing here?” Her eyes looked down to the holsters across his arms, the guns snuggled tightly in their respective places and it hit her. “Holy shit, you work for him.”

Immediately, she thought about all the things she was going to say to her sister for not warning her, for not giving her the heads up, especially after the things they talked about. It might not have been direct, but Erin knew Emily understood the weight of everything she was saying and she was definitely going to ring her sister out.

Nestor just stood there, not sure what to say.

“You know, I pictured this, running into you back home, the part of me that still romanticizes shit thought maybe it’d be at the day before summer festival, Sound of Music on that stupid blow up projector. I thought you’d apologize, tell me what the fuck happened in that thick ass skull of yours five years ago. And even if nothing came out of it, we’d have some type of fucking closure, some answers.”

“Erin.” Nestor spoke like he was going to take a step forward but he was still frozen in place.

“You’re just as much of the mystery man you were when I first met you. Serial killer and all.” She pointed at the guns on his side, a smile on her face but it was one of full shock and heartbreak.

“I pushed you away because it was the best thing.” It was the first real thing Nestor had said since the two were sharing space in the kitchen.

“And this?” Erin waved her hands in reference to the house around her. “Is this the best thing?” Her hand moved to her head as if a headache was onsetting which wouldn’t have been much of a surprise based on the situation going on right now. “For fucks sake, Nestor. We used to make fun of these guys, we used to shit on them, we hated them.”

“I never hated them. I told you. I told you Mikey was like a brother to me.” There he was the young vocal Nestor that only Erin and a good amount of alcohol could bring out these days.

“So you decide to come and do his dirty work, be his little bitch?” Erin wasn’t going to hold back now. “Real brotherly. Would a brother take your life from you, what kind of fucking life is this Nestor?”

“One with purpose.” He responded so quickly like it was an automated response, like he was on a job interview or was given a script.

Erin let out a laugh. “And to think I loved you.” Her eyes were wide at the statement, it was something she never said out loud before, she thought it, but never spoke it. But that wasn’t why her eyes were wide, it was the shock of whatever was unfolding in front of her.

At the mention of love, Nestor went soft. His eyes softened. Yet another way the two were on completely different pages, completely different wavelengths.

“Er.”

“Don’t worry about it, Nes,” Erin retorted with her own nickname. “We just became the people we were meant to be.” Erin shrugged and made her way toward Nestor. The two were now inches from one another like they were the last time they saw each other, except now Erin wasn’t going to hide any of her emotion, she wasn’t going to bite back any anger.

“I’m not planning on being here long. Got a disappearing act to keep up with. Wouldn’t want to drop any stars on Yelp, you know. Erin the wild, in your city one day and out the next. Guess I have you and my dear old dad to thank for that.”

“Erin.” Nestor whispered her full name and went to move so he could try and grab her hands but she pulled them away like she was near a hot stove. Her hand gravitated to his shoulder and patted it in such a sarcastic manner, the attitude dripping off every syllable she spoke before pushing past him and leaving him alone in the kitchen.

“You do what you gotta do, Nestor. Like you always have.”

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

Meet the characters

Vee Nott.

Headstrong || stubborn || lost girl.

Caffeine addict || bookworm

|| touch starved ||

[frattsparty]

My Heart Needed You Part 29

An: a little angsty and Miguel Obvs causing problems.

Warnings: language. We’re made a Miguel.

Tag list: @withmyteeth @lexondeck @redpoodlern @thegirlwhowritesfics @chibsytelford @lyly00 @bellisperennis0 @nessamc @oklahomapeach @enjoy-the-destruction @stephaniem1519

Hailey POV 

Today was wedding dress shopping day, so you planned to spend the morning and afternoon with your mom. Dress shopping the first time was fun and filled with so much joy and excitement, you loved your original dress. But now you were a little worried that you would never find a dress you loved like that one or your new body in it. You love Niko and would do this all again for him, but to say your adjusting to your body would be an understatement. 

Then spending the day away from your 5 week old was stressing you out already, that’s how Nestor found you. Nursing in the living room with a few tears in your eyes. 

“Hailey, it’s just a few hours.” Sitting next to you, he pulls his head towards you, kissing your temple trying not to disturb Niko eating. “You deserve a day out just you and your mom, have fun, enjoy lunch and shopping. We will be fine and once you get back we will have dinner and a movie on the couch.” 

“I don’t want to leave him.” Leaning into Nestor you sigh, gently running your fingers through Nestor’s tiny curls. “What if he won’t calm down for you, or something happens and I’m not here.” 

“Stop, Hails.” Moving from the couch he crouches in front of you, dutifully ignoring your half nakedness. “We are going to be fine, it’s a few hours, if there is an emergency I will call you.” Leaning forward his lips meet yours. “Have fun and relax with your mom.” 

“Okay, but you have to call me and send me pictures.”

“Promise,” with a final kiss he rises and heads to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with coffee. 

Nestor’s POV 

Today it was a you and Niko day, Hailey is out with her mom wedding dress shopping so it’s just a boys day. You were a little nervous but you weren’t going to let Hailey see that before she left, she was already stressing about leaving him for a few hours. 

“Alright buddy, it’s time to take care of things around the house to take some stress off mommy.” You said to the tiny human strapped to your chest. 

Your first hour was spent getting laundry going, dishes running, the kitchen cleaned and the bed made, ensuring once she was home she didn’t jump into any cleaning. Then it was a walk around the neighborhood with Eva, letting her get her energy out while Niko got fresh air. 

By the time you get home though, Niko is angry, hungry, and tired, bouncing up and down, and speaking as softly as possible, you try to calm him while you get a bottle ready but it is in vain. 

“Come on Niko, buddy, it’s okay.” It takes another 30 minutes of crying and fussing, but finally he’s taking the bottle and he's momentarily calm. “There we go, see we’re okay.” 

Rocking in the chair you spend time just staring at your boy, seeing so much of you and your brother, soaking in this time, amazed that Hailey gave you such a great gift. Just as you were drifting off your phone ringing woke you right up. Seeing Miguel’s name on your phone caused you to pause, looking at your son before answering. 

“Miguel?” 

You hear a sigh on the other end of the line, “I know you are off today but I need you…as soon as possible.”

“Miguel…I have Niko, and Hailey is with her mom dress shopping.” Running a hand over your face you take a deep breath. “I can’t call her back early, it was hard enough to get her out the door.” 

“Nestor I need you, Maria can watch him.” 

“Why do you need me? What’s going on?” 

After a moment of silence, “Potter’s men are closing in on Adalita, I need to meet with our people in Mexico to see what we can do. I need you at my side.” 

“I can’t just leave him with someone, Hailey will freak out, even if it’s Maria.” You know if you leave him with anyone else she will be upset and the last thing you want to do is make her feel like you can’t be a good dad. “I’m sorry, Miguel.”

“Nestor I know you are a new dad, and she’s out but you need to get here. Maria will watch him, Hailey can pick him up.” A pause brings silence between the two of you. “I’m serious, I need you within the hour.” With that he hung up, not waiting for a response. 

“Mierda!” 

Walking back into Niko’s room you find him in bed, awake but not crying, as you approach him he even gives you a little smile. “Well buddy, your mom is gonna be mad at me, but we’ve got to get ready and go see Tio Mikey.”

*** 

Haileys POV 

You haven’t heard much from Nestor, so you are assuming all went well, but that didn’t help you not worry and rush through lunch. 

Luckily you found the perfect dress, something you loved yourself in and couldn’t wait for Nestor to see you in. His jaw will drop and you know it. 

Pulling up to the house the first thing you notice is lights off and Nestor’s car isn’t in the garage. Putting the car in park you get your phone from your bag, no missed calls or texts from him. 

You knew he planned to cook dinner, so maybe he went to the store. Shooting off a text to him you wait for his usually quick response but nothing comes. 

Heading inside you drop everything on the kitchen island and spot a note in Nestor’s nearly illegible writing. “Be back for dinner. Love you! Nestor and Niko” 

Deciding you had time before they were home it was only 4pm after all, you took Eva out for a walk and then took a long, uninterrupted shower. 

You held your worry and panic at bay until day turned to night and the clock was approaching 7pm. You’ve called and texted with no response, even calling Miguel, Paco and Marcus. No answer from anyone. Your panic is quickly rising and all you can think about is him and your baby in an accident or stuck on the side of the road. 

You were in a full blown panic and on what was probably your 100th call to Nestor’s phone when Nestor finally answered.

“Hailey? Are you okay?” 

A sob escapes your lips, and tears stream down your face. “Nestor where the fuck are you? I’ve been calling for hours, where are you two?!” 

“I left you a note and a text that I had to help Miguel, that I had to take Niko to Maria.” 

“Your note said you both would be home by dinner, it’s nearly 9 a night!” Sniffling, your anger took over the relief of hearing from him. “I want my baby home and I want him home now, Nestor. We can talk when you are back.” 

“Hailey, I’m…” you didn’t hear what else he had to say, because you hung up. 

After 30 minutes you hear the garage door open and then close, and then Nestor’s foot steps and your baby’s cries approaching. Without a word you bend down and take Niko from his seat, clutching him to your chest. “Hails.” 

“No. I’m not talking to you right now. I’m feeding him because my boobs are throbbing from needing to nurse, and I’ll get him to bed. Then we can talk.” 

After a long feeding, a good burp, new diaper and comfy jammies, you’re rocking an already sleeping baby not willing to put him down just yet. A shadow at the door pulls your attention away from him, Nestor is waiting for you and looking guilty…as he should you can’t help but think. 

Getting up you laid Niko in his crib, luckily he was milk drunk and out for the long haul. Turning on the noise machine and grabbing the monitor you walk past Nestor and down the hall to the kitchen. Slowly he follows you, choosing to stand across from you at the island. 

“Hailey, I’m sorry. I texted you after I had him settled with Maria, but it must not have gone through. And I truly thought I would be back by dinner.” In his defense he did look sorry, truly sorry. 

“Nestor, you promised me, specifically promised me if something came up like an emergency, which this better have been a fucking emergency, you would call me. Not text me or leave a note that didn’t even inform me where you took our 5 week old!” Taking a deep breath you hold it for 10 and let it out for 10, trying to gain some control. “I’ve been here for hours thinking you two were in an accident, or stuck somewhere, I’ve been freaking out, Nestor. It was so hard to leave him and then to not know where either of you were was too much.” Your tears have started again, those pregnancy hormones have not left you even now. “I can’t explain it to you, but being away from him physically hurts me. And the thought that something happened, Nes.” Shaking your head you couldn’t finish.

“Hailey, I’m sorry. Miguel needed me to go with him to Mexico, you love Maria and he said she could watch him. I should have called.”

“No Nes, you should have put your foot down with Miguel. You had your child, it was your day off, he has other men who could have gone.” Standing up, you wipe under your eyes and straighten your shoulders. “Your family needs to be number one, I’m not going to take a back seat to Miguel and neither is Niko. When you have our baby he’s the priority, not Miguel’s needs.” Turning your back to him, you head to your room. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To bed, because I’m done talking and I’m tired.” 

“Don’t just walk away, we obviously haven’t solved anything, you're still mad.” He starts walking towards you, and you can’t hold it back. 

“I am mad, I’ve spent hours scared and you didn’t answer the phone. But you saw me calling right?” His silence was the answer you didn’t want but was what you expected. “All it would have taken was you putting family first and answering my calls.” You’re both standing in the hall, staring at the other.

“Good night, Nestor. Please take a shower before you get in bed with me.” 

“I love you, Hailey, I really am sorry.”

Giving him a sad smile, “I know, Nes, I love you too.” 

“Are we okay?” His voice was off. 

“Yeah, we are.” Turning away you stop again, looking over your shoulder. “Don’t come to bed too late.”