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#angel reyes fanfic
garbinge · 9 months
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Motion Sick
Angel Reyes x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the fic a day challenge with me! Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Fluffy but light angst.
Mayans MC Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705
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It was the middle of the day and you were traveling back home from a club errand with Angel. You might’ve had the day off but Angel didn’t and you figured if you were gonna snag anytime with him alone this was going to be it. Things had been busy between the club and the scrapyard. There wasn’t even a point in asking Angel if the errand he was running was for either because it likely had to do with both. All you knew is Angel had mentioned needing to take a ride to Santa Ana in the morning before he left your house and you met him at the clubhouse and hopped in the passenger seat of the van without any argument on his side. 
Angel didn’t mind the company, if anything he enjoyed it. These days it was rare you two got to do anything together besides roll over and shake the other to shut off the alarm so taking a ride together was like a date on the town for you. 
The ride up was smooth and quick, both of you wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible so that the rest of the day was your own without any responsibilities lingering over your head. The way back was more enjoyable. Angel took the long way back down the Pacific Coast Highway to give some romance to the trip, opting to stop at a whale watching point because he really wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. It was nice, it was something that had been missing between you two lately and this was his way of acknowledging it. 
As you got back on the road you started to fidget in the passenger seat. Finding a comfortable position was making itself hard as you moved around. 
“You alright? You can’t sit still.” Angel looked over at you as you switched to your 4th position in the last minute. 
“Yea, just feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.” You frowned and leaned forward to grab the handle that would easily adjust the seat back in hopes that would help. 
“You think it was the lookout dock? The waves and shit making you sick?” The worry grew in his voice as he slowed down on the highway, taking the opportunity to look at you longer verse the road to get a better understanding about what was going on. 
“I don’t know, I don’t think so. We were on solid foundation not like a dock or anything that was moving. Maybe I’m just getting antsy from the ride.” You brushed off his concern.
“Look, maybe you just need a break, we can stop and get some fuckin’ food or some shit.” Angel was starting to argue with you now, not out of spite, but from a genuine place. “You’re probably just motion sick. We’ve been in this van for a minute.” He had already begun to pull over at whatever food stop was coming up before you could put up a fight but it didn’t stop you from trying. 
“I don’t usually get motion sick,” your hand lifted to wave him off to continue driving until you almost immediately brought it to your mouth, “oh– I think I’m gonna puke.” 
Luckily the car was stationary as you opened the passenger door and vomited out of it. Angel thinking quickly to lean over and pull anything out of the way of your upchucking. 
“Damn querida. I thought you didn’t get motion sick.” He said when you finally stopped and used one of the napkins that was shoved in the side pocket of the car to wipe your mouth off. As he spoke you turned to him and lifted your middle finger which made him laugh. 
“I feel like shit.” You closed your eyes and leaned back in the seat. 
“You need anything? I’ll get the food to go, we can grab a spot in the grass or something, I’m sure we got a blanket somewhere back here.” Angel went into full solution mode. 
“If I sit on any blanket that’s in this van I’ll end up sicker than I am right now.” You let out a chuckle and let your head fall to the left to stare at Angel. He was on edge, you could tell. His arm was on the steering wheel and his body was twisted to look back at you. “Why don’t we find a convenient store, like a CVS or Rite Aid or some shit, I think I’ll get better if I get my hands on a gatorade and some saltines.” 
Angel was moving in seconds, he had put the car in drive and you were about to argue it but he spoke up. “I’m just moving it up a couple feet so you don’t step in your own vomit.” His smiled openly. 
“Angel the angel.” You teased him as you stepped out the van. 
The convenient store was close, it was a matter of minutes before you both entered the air conditioned building that was playing some top 40’s radio station through the speakers. The cold breeze already had you feeling better, the club van didn’t exactly have the best AC for an old overused vehicle. 
“Grab what you want, I’m gonna see if I can get you some of that motion sickness shit from the pharmacy, half the shit on the PCH is behind lock and key.” Angel placed a quick kiss on your head before walking towards the medicine aisle. “Oh and maybe pick up some Listerine or toothpaste!” His whole body turned around as he kept walking backwards with his nose scrunched up. 
That earned him another middle finger and a headshake, although, you knew he was right. Toothpaste and a toothbrush was the first thing you were grabbing on your way to grab the essentials but he didn’t need to be annoying about it. 
As you entered the toiletry aisle your eyes scanned the shelves. Mouthwash was first, and while it was a viable option, you knew brushing your teeth would be a greater benefit for both of you. As your eyes moved to the toothpaste, you saw the travel brush and paste kit and grabbed the first one you saw before walking down the rest of the aisle. You browsed the rest of the aisle, taking your time not wanting to leave the cooled store anytime soon. As you looked around your eyes stopped on a box of tampons. That’s when it hit you like a tons of bricks. The speed at which you took your phone out your backpocket was unmatched, all just for your thoughts to be confirmed by the date displaying on your phone. You were late. 
Without a second thought you grabbed the pink box that was to the right of the pads and tampons and flew to the bathroom. Luckily it was on the opposite side of where the pharmacy was so there was no chance you were going to run into Angel. 
3 minutes was beginning to feel like 3 days with how long it was taking. You had grabbed the digital test, which was likely the more expensive one but at this point you didn’t care. You stood over the sink staring at the flashing lines waiting for words to pop up on it. You could’ve taken the time to brush your teeth but you felt like if you took your eyes off the test, you’d miss something. 
You heard the digital beeping and the words appeared across the screen. 
Pregnant. 
“Holy shit.” 
You weren’t exactly sure how to feel but before you could really even process it, you were stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the aisles for Angel. 
He was in the toy section, gatorade and saltines in one hand and a squishmallow in the other. 
“Hey look! It kinda looks like Sally right? I know it’s a seal but they got the same fuckin’ eyes.” Angel held up the gray stuffed animal and compared it to his little brother’s dog. 
As you walked over to him and said nothing his smile started to fade. 
“You get sick again?” He asked a follow up question. 
Without saying anything you held up the pregnancy test for him to see. It took him a couple seconds to process what you were showing him before he was picking you up in the air in celebration. The squeal that left your mouth was full of shock but the laugh that came after was genuine. Angel was clearly excited about this and that sent a wave of relief through you that let you enjoy this. 
“Alright, alright, put me down you’re gonna make me sick again!” You spoke through another laugh. 
“What happened, I thought you don’t get motion sick.” His voice got deeper as he mocked you and put you down. 
“Yea I don’t, but apparently your kid does.” 
Angel’s smile grew even bigger at that sentence. You leaned over and grabbed the squishmallow from him and made your way to the front of the store to pay for everything you two had gathered up. 
“We gettin’ that?!” Angel lightly jogged to catch up to you. 
“Baby’s first toy?” You squished it against your front in a hug. 
Angel brought you into his side, throwing his arm around you as he left a soft his on the crown of your head. 
“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 
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dallianceangel · 14 days
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𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 💔😭
Here’s another drabble for you, a sad one at that. 💔
💔 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💔
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“It’s him, isn’t it?” Angel asks, feeling physically sick. He knew you and him had reached the end of the road ages ago, but he never imagined the man you’d leave him for would be a fellow Mayan.
“Yes,” you reply, warm tears streaming down your face.
You’re expecting Angel to launch at him, but all he does is turn around and storm out of the clubhouse.
“He’ll never forgive us,” You sigh, hearing him start up his bike before riding away.
Bishop pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against yours.
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ravennaortiz · 4 months
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Number 9. "Will you let me take you out?" Let's go with either Angel or Juice. I feel like either one of those two would do well with this prompt. I'm probably going to send another one after this one.
Oooooo, I get to choose? Let's go with Angel this time :). Thank you for the request! I hope you like this!
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"Thought you had a date with your hot shot lawyer" stated Coco as he slunk down in the chair next to you making Angel snort and roll his eyes. "Stood me up" you replied irritably as Angel mumbled something under his breath. He had been prickly ever since you had called him to pick you up an hour ago. Coco sipped on his beer regretting having sat down as the tension between you and Angel choked him.
"That sucks. Hope your kicking him to the curb" offered Coco his eyes darting from you to Angel. "Should have done that the first or second time" muttered Angel as he crossed his arms giving you a pointed look. "Screw you. You didn't have to come get me" you snapped your jaw clenched in anger. Angel was the one person you had always been able to seek comfort in and tonight he was acting like you were dirt.
Coco delivered a swift kick to Angel hoping to knock some sense in to his friends head. He knew Angel was secretly in to you and hadn't wanted to test the waters and lose you. So he had ben secretly pining for years and watching you get mistreated had apparently taken its toll. Angel shot Coco a look and was about to say something when you pushed your chair back standing up.
"Where are you going?" called Angel as you stormed away from the table. "Home" you snapped not turning back to him. "Your not walking its late and raining" stated Angel leaning forward on the table. "Not like you care" you replied hand on the door knob. Angel scowled before slamming his fist down on the table. "Will you just let me take you out? Show you how you should be getting treated." the words flying out of his mouth before he could really think. You paused not fully believing what you had heard. "What did you say?" you asked turning to look at him your eyes meeting his.
"Will you let me take you out?" repeated Angel his tone softer and pleading as he watched you.
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drabbles-mc · 1 year
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Better Than Him
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Summary: When your boyfriend bails last-minute on yet another date night, you call the first person you can think of to commiserate with.
Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating, language, alcohol
Word Count: 6.7k (oops)
A/N: Don't ask me how I ended up writing almost 7k of debauchery and filth for Angel. I don't know. I drank some wine and this happened. I feel like it should go without saying, but I'll still say it: don't cheat on your partners, y'all. It's only okay and sexy for fictional people to do. 😂😌
Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @thesandbeneathmytoes @meadowofsinfulthoughts @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @artemiseamoon @justazzi (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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You were laying on your couch in the living room, slouched down so far that you knew it was going to give you neck issues if you stayed in that position for too much longer. Your chin was tucked against your chest by default. The television was playing in the background, the same sitcom on that you’d watched front to back more times than you could count. You weren’t even really listening to it, though. It was just white noise.
Your phone was propped up against your chest, the picture of you and your boyfriend on your home screen doing nothing but mocking you at this point. You exhaled a deep, exasperated sigh as your finger hovered over the Messages app at the bottom of your screen. It was a stupid idea, but you still opened the app. Nothing good was gonna come of it, but you still scrolled down to your text message conversation with Angel.
The last exchange between the two of you had been him inviting you to the clubhouse, and you politely blowing him off because you were going to have date night with your boyfriend. But now your boyfriend was out doing god knows what and you were lying on your couch, all dressed up with no place to go. Your heels mocked you from the floor, same with the hem of your skirt sliding farther up your leg as you crossed and uncrossed them. All the effort and for what?
Despite knowing better, you hit the call button at the top of the screen. You hit speaker on the first ring, not wanting to even put the effort forth at this point to lift and hold the phone to your ear. Sad, sure. Borderline pathetic, maybe. But you weren’t given the time to spiral into your thoughts about it too much.
“You change your mind about the party?” Not even a greeting. Just loud background conversations and Angel getting straight to the point.
“No,” you replied in the loudest mumble you could manage.
“Wait, where are you? Why…why are you calling me?”
“Because I’m bored.”
The noise on the other end of the line decreased drastically, and you could only imagine that it was because Angel stepped outside to finish the phone call. “Thought tonight was date night or whatever?”
“It was.” You hated how bummed you sounded about it.
“Oh, fuck.” He sighed and you could picture the look on his face. “He, god, he fuckin’ bail? Again?”
You groaned. “The again was not needed, Angel.”
“Neither is all his bullshit.” He paused for a beat. “C’mon, dulce, I’ve been tellin’ you for a minute that you don’t need this dude.”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” you argued, but there was no real anger in your voice. Even saying you were annoyed with him was an overreach. You knew he was right.
“What do you wanna hear then, hm?” His voice was right back to its usual slick, flirtatious tone.
You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore how much you enjoyed listening to him talk to you like that. You dragged your hand down your face, knowing that this was your last chance to be smart and get out of the conversation unscathed. But you were sick of being the smart one.
“You wanna come over?”
He laughed. “You want me to leave a party to go come and watch you mope about your shitty boyfriend?”
It got you to smile. “Yea.”
He let out another laugh and you couldn’t help but to picture the way that he was probably shaking his head, looking up at the sky knowing that he was going to say yes but he didn’t want to give you an easy time about it. He never wanted to give you an easy time about anything.
He sucked his teeth. “Fine. Be there in twenty.”
“This is why they call you Angel.”
He chuckled. “Shut up.” He paused. “I’ll see you soon.”
It wasn’t quite enough to pull you up from the inhuman angle you were laying at on the couch, but you did feel a little better knowing that you weren’t going to be spending the whole night by yourself anymore. “See you soon.”
You hadn’t moved a single inch by the time that you heard his motorcycle pulling up outside your apartment. The only thing that had changed was that now your phone was discarded on your coffee table instead of resting against your chest. You turned your head to look at the door but you made no move to get up and greet him.
The door was only halfway open, Angel wasn’t even inside the door yet and you called over, “That took longer than twenty minutes!”
Without missing a beat he pelted a bag of Sour Patch Kids at you, the candy landing just below where your chin was tucked. “Wasn’t gonna try and bring ice cream on the bike. Settled for the next best thing.” He kicked off his boots once he shut and locked your door. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Ice cream doesn’t sound terrible,” you said with a chuckle. You lifted one foot and gestured towards your kitchen. “There’s some in the freezer if you want it.”
Angel rolled his eyes as he walked over, standing alongside the couch right next to you. You looked up at him, his presence more towering than usual as your laid down while he stood. He watched as you tore the corner off the package of your candy.
“You’re not even moping right,” he joked as he reached and pushed on your one knee so it knocked into the other. Neither of you made a comment about the face that it made the hem of your skirt slip up a little higher, but you noticed the way his eyes lingered a beat longer. “Supposed to be curled up in sweatpants and shit after a breakup, aren’t you?”
You tilted your head up to look at him more directly, your chin finally lifting off its resting place on your chest. “Breakup?”
“Yea. You,” he paused , brows coming together, “you broke up with him, right?” Your silence spoke volumes and he couldn’t do anything besides huff and roll his eyes at you. “Come on, you’re fuckin’ kidding me, right?”
“What?” You only sounded defensive because you knew that he was probably about to be right with whatever he was going to say.
“How many times does this guy have to blow you off and treat you like shit before you finally kick him to the curb?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” you said with a shake of your head, not able to look him in the eyes as you ate one of the candies and set the package on the table next to your phone.
“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted.
“Angel!”
“What!” He held his hands out like he was begging you to get up and try something. “How else would you describe it? You’ve,” he scoffed, “you’ve called me stupid for way less.”
“Yea, but I never mean it.”
“Because I’m never being this stupid,” he shot back with a smirk.
Despite your frustration, you found yourself biting back a smile as you rolled your eyes at him. You knew he was right. You should’ve left your boyfriend a long time ago. Consistency with something that wasn’t great felt safer than not having any consistency at all, though.
“Since when are you giving out relationship advice?”
He shrugged with a laugh. “I’m not. I’m givin’ out breakup advice. Dump his ass.”
It got both of you to laugh. For a brief moment, it almost looked like Angel was about to say something else. Instead, though, he turned and headed for your kitchen to grab himself a beer, shedding his kutte along the way. You said sure when he asked if you wanted one too. Even with the television on, you could hear the clattering of the bottlecaps on the countertop. When you heard the slight scraping of the bottles being picked up, clinking against the rings on Angel’s fingers, you finally pushed yourself into a more upright position. You were still somewhat slouched back against the arm of the sofa, but you were at least at a more appropriate angle so you wouldn’t get a permanent kink in your neck.
“Here.” Angel faked like he was going to toss the open bottle to you. You knew that he wouldn’t, but you still flinched to reach and grab it just in case. You hated the laugh that it got out of him, but really you loved it. With one hand free, he tapped your knee lightly. “Quit hogging the couch.”
“It’s my couch, you know,” you said as you pulled your legs in a little closer to you, granting him the space to sit.
“Yea, and you invited me over. So now you gotta share.” He plopped down unceremoniously, immediately putting his feet up on your coffee table.
You were both tuned into the show playing on the television for a couple minutes before you asked, “How was the party?”
He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Could’ve shown up and found out for yourself.”
“I didn’t wanna see people,” you said before taking a sip of your beer.
“Oh? And what am I, then?’ he asked with a laugh.
“You’re Angel,” you replied with no hesitation.
He rolled his eyes but there was no denying the grin that was creeping across his face. “Shut up. Don’t gotta sweet-talk me. I’m already here.”
You both chuckled before falling back into comfortable silence. Part of you felt like you should be saying something more. After all, you did ask him to bail on the clubhouse party to come and hang out with you. But it was so comfortable with him like this. Something about knowing that he would turn his back on something like that just so he could show up and do nothing with you helped soothe your bruised ego. Your boyfriend couldn’t manage to show up for date night, but Angel could bail on an entire room full of his MC brothers and girls who would give just about anything to take him home just so he could show up and watch cheesy sitcoms with you. It stung but at the same time it felt good. You knew that that was all you really needed to know about how you should be handling your relationship, but you didn’t want to think about that. That problem would still be there tomorrow. You’d deal with it then.
In between episodes, you leaned over so you could set your beer bottle on the coffee table. As you settled back into the couch, you stretched your legs out again. You draped them across Angel’s lap, not commenting on the action as you did so. Your eyes were trained on the television, but in your peripheral you could see the way that Angel was looking at you. His eyes slowly raked up the exposed skin of your legs, along the rest of your body until he was looking at your face. He watched you for a minute, and you thought that maybe he was going to make a joke, or push your legs off him. But he didn’t.
He leaned so that he had one elbow propped against the arm of the couch, still holding his nearly-empty bottle of beer in that hand. Without looking back over at you, he brought his other hand to rest against your shin. The metal of his rings felt cool against your skin, and you flinched slightly, but you didn’t pull away or say anything to him. He felt the twitch, and rather than pulling away, he wrapped is fingers a little tighter. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was enough to keep you from pulling away as the warmth from your skin made the metal of his rings more tolerable.
“What were you supposed to be doing tonight, anyway?” Angel asked you out of nowhere.
“Hm?” You pried your eyes away from the television screen to look at him.
“For date night. What were you guys gonna do?”
If someone else had been asking, you would assume that they were just going to rub salt in the wound. And maybe you would’ve thought the same of Angel too, because he could get like that sometimes, but there was something about the pensive look on his face that let you know that that wasn’t the case.
You shrugged as you rested your hands on your stomach. “Nothing crazy. Just dinner and then going somewhere for dancing and drinks.” You paused. “Why?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. Nudging his leg lightly with your foot, you said, “Nosey.”
He laughed but didn’t argue because he knew that you were right. “Can he even dance?”
“Can you?” you shot back with a curious look.
“Pfft,” he laughed, “like I’m ever gonna give you that kind of ammunition.”
You let out a hum of amusement before the conversation died off again. The controlled chaos of the TV show playing in the background was the only noise in the entirety of your apartment. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Angel to be over at your place, for it to just be the two of you. So you wondered why this time you felt like it was the first time the two of you had ever existed in a space alone together. His hand that was steadily creeping up your leg was probably a large part of the root cause, but you couldn’t afford to think about it too much. Give it too much of your mental real estate and you were going to combust.
He didn’t say anything as his fingers began to work in methodical little circles against the muscle of your leg. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Angel was the kind of guy who would voluntarily give a girl a massage, let alone be good at it, but you instantly felt more relaxed as your legs untensed against him. You made a conscious effort to ignore the other feelings bubbling in your chest as he slowly but surely worked his fingers higher up your leg. He wasn’t looking at you, so you weren’t going to look at him. Maybe if it stayed like that, you would be able to keep yourself under control.
His fingers worked through a knot at the top of your calf, and the soft moan that slipped out past your lips was completely involuntary. You immediately froze, not turning to look at him, not saying anything about the sound you’d just made. You were waiting for Angel to say something, make some slick comment, a sexual joke of some kind, but he didn’t. His fingers didn’t stop moving, though, creeping up over your knee and onto your thigh.
You didn’t know how many seconds had passed before you finally decided that it was as safe to look at him as it was ever going to be. You slowly turned your head, your eyes searching for his. You thought that he was already going to be looking at you, waiting to say something. But when you were finally looking at him head-on, his eyes didn’t meet yours. Instead, his gaze was locked onto your legs, eyes slowly raking up the exposed skin, zeroing in like he was trying to see past the fabric of your skirt. It should’ve made you uneasy, should’ve made you want to tell him to get the fuck out of your apartment, but it didn’t.
Taking a slow, deep breath, you forced your body to relax again. The tension started to ebb away, allowing you to melt back into the couch cushions and against Angel. And, if your legs parted a little farther in the process, where was the harm in that.
Even with the television playing in the background, you heard the sharp inhale that he took, his eyes still completely zeroed in on your legs. You found yourself gnawing lightly at your bottom lip, just watching him, studying his reactions to it all. You knew that you definitely shouldn’t have been getting so much enjoyment out of it, but it was too late now.
“You good, Angel?” you asked as you watched his tongue dart across his bottom lip.
He cleared his throat as he nodded, finally dragging his eyes away from your legs so that he was looking at your face. “I’m good.” He paused. “You good?”
You nodded, a satisfied smile creeping across your face before you could stop it. “I’m good.”
There was a long pause, each of you waiting for the other to say something, do something. It felt like a game of chicken but you weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for more, for him to push it farther or for him to pull away completely. Usually you could read him without much of an issue, but this time you really didn’t know what his next move was going to be, if there was going to be one at all.
Then he lifted your legs just slightly. You froze, hating the fact that you were worried that he was going to stand up and leave. You would have no right to ask him to stay, to do any of the things that were currently running through your head. You had a boyfriend for that, supposedly. But he wasn’t here. Angel was.
He didn’t get up to leave, though. Instead, he slid down a little closer to you on the couch before draping your legs over his again. You were smiling before you even knew what you were doing. His hands rested easily on your knees, fingers pressing against you lightly for a moment before sliding up onto your thighs. He applied the same pressure he had before, still not saying anything more as he kept traveling slowly further and further towards the raised hem of your skirt.
When he finally reached it, your breath got caught in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do next. He toyed with the hem of it, sliding the smooth, black fabric between his fingers. You were expecting him to slide his hands completely underneath it, for him to push it the rest of the way up your thighs. You were still holding your breath in anticipation, studying even the slightest shifts in his expression.
So imagine your disappointment when he tugged it down, letting it rest back in its rightful place covering up the majority of your thighs. You felt a little sick to your stomach over the fact that you were disappointed by that at all, but it was too late to take the feeling back now. He didn’t take his hands off of you at least, eyes still traveling up and down your body like he was trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.
“Angel?”
His eyes snapped up to yours. “Yea?”
“Can you keep doing that?” you asked, your tone innocent enough. “Feels good.”
He swallowed hard, seeming shaken for the first time all night. But he nodded, a wordless agreement as he let his fingers press firmly, purposefully against the skin and muscles of your thighs. Your eyes drifted shut, soaking up the sensation, letting yourself get lost in the thoughts that you most definitely shouldn’t have been having. The disappointment of your canceled date night was the furthest thing from your mind now.
You didn’t even flinch when he pushed your skirt back up. Whatever shred of decency he’d been trying to have was tossed out the window the second you asked him to keep touching you like that. He didn’t know why he was tempting fate the way he was but he was too invested now to back down.
You felt him shifting on the couch, but your brain was too deep in other thoughts to really think about what it meant. You vaguely registered the fact that he was closer to you now, able to feel the denim of his jeans against the backs of your thighs. Your eyes were still closed, unable to see the way that he was looking at you like a starved animal who had managed to find itself a good meal. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip as he tried to exercise a little self-restraint. There was so much that he wanted to say to you, do to you, but with every passing second it all felt like it was turning more and more into a sick joke.
He inhaled slowly through his nose, gearing himself up for whatever your reaction was going to be to what he did next. You’d either let him, or he was going to get caught across the cheek with a mean right hand. At this point, he was willing to take the risk because his heart was pounding inside his chest and he couldn’t walk away without knowing.
His hands slipped underneath your skirt, ghosting over the tops of your thighs. You gasped when you felt the tips of his fingers brushing against the lace of your panties, right at the juncture where your legs met your hips. That’s what got you to finally open your eyes. You lifted your head off the arm of the couch, your mouth slightly open as you looked at Angel. You could see the deep rise and fall of his chest, and he could see the way yours was doing the same.
“I can stop,” his voice had a tone that you’d never heard before and it sent a wave of shivers over your body. When you didn’t say anything in response, didn’t make any type of move to encourage or discourage him, he said, “You want me to?”
You shook your head, your voice coming out small in a way you hadn’t intended it to. “No. Don’t…don’t stop.”
With what seemed like an effortless motion, he shifted so that he was kneeling, facing you slotted between your legs. Spreading his hands over your thighs, he pulled you down so your back laid flat against the couch cushions. He pushed your skirt up, exposing your thighs and panties in the same movement. He heard the shuddered breath you let out as his hands continued to run up and down your thighs, studying you as he tried to figure out what his next move was going to be.
“What’re we doin’ here, mi dulce?” he asked, his voice low.
Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, legs already on the brink of shaking when he hadn’t even really touched you yet. “Whatever you want.”
He licked his bottom lip. “You mean that?”
You managed a nod even though your brain was completely muddled with the possibilities of what Angel wanted to do to you. “I do.”
“This,” he said slowly as his hands crept back towards your hips, “is a bad idea.”
“I know,” you admitted. “I don’t care.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, not needing anymore encouragement from you as he looped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and started to pull them down your legs. You lifted your feet off the couch cushion, anything to make it easier for him to get them off of you faster. You were expecting him to toss them aside, but instead he tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. Later, tomorrow, next week, whenever he thought back on whatever this was about to turn into and he was sure it was a dream, he’d have proof that it wasn’t.
Then his hands quickly ran up your shins and thighs again. This time he moved the rest of his body so that he was hovering over you, your legs loosely draping themselves around him as he set one hand on the arm of the sofa, bracing himself above you. His pupils were blown out like you’d never seen them before as his other hand gripped tighter onto your thigh.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped out.
It was the closest you ever got to having an orgasm just from the sound of someone’s voice. You whispered a soft, embarrassingly needy, “Fuck,” as you kept your eyes locked on his.
His hand crept from your thigh until it landed in between your legs. You gasped, biting back a whine as he trailed his fingers along your folds with a featherlight touch. Enough for you to feel him there, but not enough to get what you really wanted.
A smirk painted over his features as he applied just a little more pressure. “If you’re this wet already,” he leaned down so that his lips were right next to your ear, “I don’t know if you can really handle me, querida. I haven’t even started yet.”
The moan that came out of you wasn’t planned, but you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes fluttered for a second as his words washed over you but finally you were able to focus on him again. “Let me try.”
The smile on his face was sinful as he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. Your hands immediately interlocked against the back of his neck, not allowing him the opportunity to pull away now that you had him. You’d thought about what it would be like to kiss Angel more than you cared to admit. It wasn’t something you were exactly proud of, but given the situation you’d put yourself in now, thoughts were the least of your worries.
He tasted like the beer he’d taken from your fridge, like the cigarette he’d probably smoked at the clubhouse before leaving to come and see you. His tongue moving against yours felt like heaven. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip as your fingers slid up and into the short hair above the nape of his neck.
While he was pulling the air from your lungs with the way he was kissing you, his fingers slid up and down your folds, slicking themselves with your wetness and teasing you for just another moment longer before he slowly slid them into you. The moan you let out was something out of Angel’s wildest, wettest dreams. He swallowed the sound eagerly as you kept your lips pressed to his.
You pulled your lips off his only so that you could say his name. It came out like a pant as you pulled him closer to you, moaning quietly into the crook of his neck. His fingers continued to work you over, rendering you an absolute mess as you clawed at his back through the fabric of his shirt.
“How’s that feel?” he murmured against your ear.
You forced your brain to work well enough to string together the words, “So fucking good.”
“How good?” He kissed right below your ear. “Better than him?”
“Angel,” your voice was somewhere between a plea and a warning.
You felt the slight vibration, the hum of his quiet laughter. “You can tell me.”
You gasped as he sped up his rhythm. “Fuck, Angel.”
“C’mon, dulce,” he coaxed, “tell me.” When you didn’t say anything, he stilled his movements, smirking at the whine you let out. “If I’m not doin’ a better job, I can just stop.”
“Don’t stop,” you begged. “You feel s—” your words faltered as he started to move again, “so fucking good.”
He kissed you hard on the lips, his mouth moving hungrily against yours in a vain attempt to distract you from the fact that he was slipping his fingers out of you. You whined against his mouth and the quick laugh he let out would’ve felt insulting if it wasn’t immediately followed by the sound of him unbuckling his jeans.
He pulled away from you, planting his feet back onto the floor just long enough to drop his jeans and boxers to the floor. You were sitting part of the way up, propping yourself on your forearms as you watched him. He was stepping out of the denim that was now in a pile at his feet when he saw you. He chuckled, shaking his head at you as he crawled back on top of you.
“Like what you see?” he asked as he pulled your legs back around his waist.
You hummed in agreement as you slid your hands up his side, your fingers easily finding their way under the ribbed fabric of his tank top. “I’d like it better if I could feel it.”
He let out a breathless laugh as he dropped his face into the crook of your neck. “You’re somethin’ else.”
“You love it,” you mumbled as you tightened your legs around him, desperate to pull him closer and into you.
“Yea,” he moaned as he finally gave in sliding into you, “I really fucking do.”
Whatever you were hoping to say, to taunt him with, instantly fell by the wayside once he was inside of you. There wasn’t a single word or coherent thought in your brain as you wound yourself as tightly around him as you could. Your legs squeezed him tighter, your arms reaching across his back so your nails could dig into him, leaving irrefutable evidence for him to look at the next day.
If you thought that the feeling of him kissing you made your head spin, this was about to send you into the next dimension. You always thought it was so cheesy when people said that it felt like someone was made just for them, but as Angel fought to thrust slowly, to make sure this lasted as long as it could, you couldn’t help but to feel like he really might’ve actually been made for you.
Your eyes were closed, just soaking up the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, his lips and tongue trailing over your neck. If it had been possible, you would’ve dissolved right into him because of how good it all felt. The moans and whimpers he pulled out of you were ungodly, and they only served to spur him on even more.
Then you felt his teeth graze against the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. He didn’t bite down hard, so you let it go without comment, not wanting to interrupt the moment of bliss you were having if you could help it. He thrust into you harder, the moan you let out making your throat vibrate against his lips. He bit down a little harder, almost starting to suck a dark mark into the side of your neck when you pulled one hand from his back so you could plant it on his chest and push him away. Your body tried to fight you on it, but somehow you managed to win against yourself, putting just enough distance between you so that you could pull his lips back to yours.
“Angel,” you kissed him, “don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he pulled his lips away from yours and latched them back onto your neck. It felt like heaven but you knew it was going to be more trouble than it was worth if you didn’t stop him.
“Don’t, don’t leave any,” you stuttered for a moment when he changed his pace—it was almost a successful distraction, “No marks.”
You felt him chuckle against the column of your throat, the ticklish sensation of his beard against your skin. “Why not?” He kissed you. “Don’t want him knowing that someone else out there is giving you what he can’t?”
Trying to get him to show any self-control felt criminal, and also futile. “Yea, something like that.”
“No fun,” he murmured against you.
You had to laugh at that. “Really?” You carded your fingers through his hair as he pushed his hips to meet yours. “’Cause it feels like you’re having plenty of fun.”
Cupping his jaw, you pulled him back up to you and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth. Before your eyes fluttered closed, you saw the way that he relaxed, melting against you as his hands slid down to grip onto your hips. He held you steady as you continued to kiss him, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. He must’ve felt it, too, because he quickly caught your wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the arm of the couch.
The second he pulled his lips off of yours, your phone started to vibrate against the top of the coffee table. You both stilled, Angel leaning to look over and see who was calling. He chuckled as he looked back down at you. “I can answer it, if you want.”
“Don’t,” you sounded so breathless, “Don’t you dare.”
“You don’t want him hearin’ this?” he asked as he moved his hips, pulling another moan out of you.
You shook your head in protest but you couldn’t force anymore words out. Relief coursed through you when Angel dropped his head back down, kissing you hard on the lips before moving back to your next. You knew what he was going to do now that you weren’t going to be able to stop him. At this point you didn’t even care. The moan that came out of you when he sunk his teeth into your neck again let him know that you had no real intention of making him stop. You called out his name as you came undone around him, your legs tightening for a moment before going lax, only staying looped around his waist because of how close he had himself pinned to you.
He ran his tongue over the spot on your neck where his teeth had just been, like he was trying to soothe over the sting. It was the furthest thing from your mind, though, as you slowly started to come down from your high. You felt dizzy from it all as his forehead dropped against your shoulder. All of your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you laid there, stars behind your eyes as Angel eagerly thrust into you. His grip around your wrists tightened, almost bruising as his movements got more intense.
The reality of everything that was happening burst to the forefront of your mind, and it should’ve made you feel badly, but it didn’t. Instead, it sent a second wave of bliss over your body as you wriggled your hands out of his grasp, immediately pulling his lips to yours. He didn’t fight you on it, pushing his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he came inside of you.
He collapsed on top of you, and you could feel the racing beat of his heart as his chest laid pinned to yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to catch his breath. His hands wandered slowly back down to your legs, running over them, pulling warmth from them as they stayed wound around his hips. You let out a hum of contentment as he placed a few lazy kisses to your neck and what he could reach of your shoulder. If you could’ve, you would’ve laid like that all night.
After a few minutes, when both of you got your breathing and heartrates back under control, Angel slowly, carefully pulled out of you. You fought the impulse to whine, not wanting all of it to be over. But you knew that you had no right to be complaining about something being over when it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
He placed a lazy string of kisses down your neck and over your clothed chest before getting himself to sit upright. He reached for his boxers on the floor, lifting his hips up off the couch just long enough to pull them on.
You pushed yourself up just enough to lean back against the arm of the couch. You crossed one leg over the other, pushing your skirt down a little bit like it made any fucking difference at this point.
“Hey,” you lifted your chin a little, waiting for him to look at you, “you good?”
He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “I’m great.”
Your brain was still a little too muddled to be able to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He couldn’t make it easy. “What’re you thinking right now?” You paused. “Are you mad?”
He chuckled, a smile starting to curl the ends of his lips as he replayed everything that had just happened. “Fuck no.” He looked over at you, studying your face for a moment before asking, “How messy is this gonna get?”
“What?”
He motioned back and forth between the two of you. “This. Was this a one-time thing? You gonna finally break up with this dude? What’s the deal?”
And just like that, you came crashing down from your high. You dropped your head back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling as you thought about your answer to his question. “I don’t know.” You dragged your hands down your face. “I know how awful that is.”
“Look,” he reached over, resting one hand on your knee, drumming his fingers, “I don’t give a shit about this guy, or hurting his feelings.” He saw the way you laughed at that. “I don’t. He wants to fuck things up with you? I’ll let him.” He paused, a shit-eating smirk taking over his face as he said, “And I’ll keep fuckin’ you while he’s doing it.”
“Angel!” you chastised him with a laugh.
“I’m serious.” He leaned down, grabbing his jeans so he could start to pull those on too. “I don’t give a fuck about him. But I’ve been tellin’ you, you’re wasting your time.”
“So, what, you think I should just leave him and be with you?”
Angel shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I mean, you should,” he laughed, “but I didn’t say that. Him being a waste of your time has nothing to do with me.”
“Really?” You laughed. “This feels like it has a lot to do with you.”
“Yea, ‘cause I was inside you like, two fuckin’ minutes ago,” he said with a laugh. He stood up, pulling his jeans up and buckling his belt back into place. “You gotta make that choice. I’ll be here, no matter what you end up doing, but,” he raked his fingers back through his hair, “this is your mess to figure out.”
“Why’d you come over, then?”
He shrugged. “I like you. You knew that, though.”
Your voice was quieter than you thought it was going to be as you said, “I know.”
He was about to go grab his boots when he saw the look on your face. “Want me to stay?”
You thought about it for a long moment before finally shaking your head. “I’ll be good. You know, when my legs start working again.”
Angel laughed and shook his head as went to grab his kutte and put his boots back on. You watched him, unable to wipe the smile off your face, or shake the jittery feeling still coursing through your body. You knew that you should feel guilty, and maybe you would in the morning. Or maybe you wouldn’t. It was all a mistake but it certainly didn’t feel like one yet.
He walked back over, standing beside the sofa like he had when he first got to your house. “You sure you’re gonna be good if I go?”
You looked up at him and nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the company.”
He smirked. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”
You rolled your eyes but you could feel your face getting warm. “Goodnight, Angel.”
He laughed, leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. “Night.” He walked back to the door. He was halfway through it when he turned and looked back over his shoulder at you, a smile on his face as he said, “Don’t forget to cover up that hickey.”
You laughed, shaking your head at him as he pulled the door shut behind him. Once again it was just the noise of the television filling your apartment. Reaching up, you lightly pressed your fingers against where Angel’s mark was, already thinking of the best way to cover it up.
727 notes · View notes
flightlessangelwings · 6 months
Text
Ktober 2023 Day 21- Piercings
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Angel Reyes x fem!reader
Word count- 1.6k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), exes to lovers, nipple play, cumming from nipple stimulation, multiple orgasms, fluff, reader has pierced nipples, no use of y/n
Notes- Angel is so much fun to write for! And even if the ending of Mayans was disappointing I still really miss him! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!
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~
It had been so long that you almost forgot what it felt like. The wind in your face, the roar of the motorcycle, the strong torso of Angel Reyes anchoring you as you wrapped your arms around him. There was a time when Angel took you for a ride every weekend, and you went to that special place and ravaged each other for hours before you laid under the stars. But, life got in the way, and you two were separated for some time.
But, now you were back together. And while things were different, some things stayed the same. And you smirked to yourself as you thought about some of the surprises you had in store for him.
“We’re here, baby,” Angel slowed the bike to a stop at the bridge.
You exhaled contently, “Just like old times,” you took his hand and let him lead you over to your spot.
Angel stopped and turned around, looking you up and down as if it were his first time seeing you, “Baby,” he cupped your face, “You look even hotter than last time I saw you.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned into his touch, “So do you, Angel.”
Wasting no time, Angel pulled you in close and pressed his lips against yours. You moaned into you as you parted your lips and invited him in, tasting him for the first time in a long time. He gripped into your hips to yank you against him, as if he couldn’t get your close enough. The smell of his kutte mixed with his cologne was intoxicating, and it sent a pulse right to your core.
“Angel,” you murmured as he kissed his way down your neck, “I missed you.”
He only groaned as he bucked his hips against you, letting you feel how hard he was already. It was all the answer you needed. Angel bit down on the sensitive spot on your neck, licking a sucking before he kissed his way back up and took your lips once more.
Carefully, the two of you back up against the steel railing without breaking away. Angel glanced over a few times to make sure you wouldn’t step in the wrong place, and you trusted him enough to not need to look for yourself. You gasped when your back hit the cold rail, but Angel only deepened the kiss more as your mouth dropped open.
He groaned as he helped you up onto the rail, finding that perfect spot that had a long pole for you to lean against. It was an old bridge, but it was sturdy, and the spot Angel liked to place you had a wider base so you could be comfortable while he stood between your parted legs.
“Shit baby,” he murmured as his hands dipped under your shirt.
You let go of his temporarily so he could lift your shirt up over your head before you clawed at his own shirt, a silent plea for him to take it off. Angel broke away to shrug it off, and you couldn't help the gasp you let out at seeing his bare chest again. You know you were gawking at him as your eyes trailed across all his tattoos and his defined pecs, but at the same time, you couldn’t care less.
“Like what you see, querida?” Angel asked with a cocky smirk.
“Fuck yeah,” you breathed, too in awe to think of a more witty comeback.
You extended your arms for him and he gladly obliged. The two of you crashed your lips together, this time in a more heated and desperate kiss. Hand roamed all over the other, feeling and caressing every dip and curve in the other’s figure. Angel groaned as he reached the back of your bra and tried to unclasp it, but he got quickly frustrated and growled into you.
“Let me,” you giggled softly as you reached back and pinched your bra with one hand and let it fall into your lap.
This time, it was Angel’s turn to gawk. “Are those…” he cleared his throat as his eyes landed right on your breasts, “Are those new?” His cock involuntarily twitched in his pants.
“Like what you see?” you asked with a teasing grin as you shimmied your shoulders, letting your breasts swing as you did so.
What Angel hadn’t seen before was the new-ish piercings you had: both nipples. The metal from the jewelry twinkled in the setting sun, and Angel couldn’t rip his eyes away from them. He had always loved and worshiped your breasts, but this only made you even hotter.
“Oh fuck yeah,” Angel groaned as he grabbed onto your waist and dove into your breasts.
You buried your hands in his hair as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, licking and flicking at the jewelry. Your mouth dropped open to let the moans flow freely as he played with your piercing with his tongue. The sensations were more intensified due to the piercing, and it sent jolt and jolt of pleasure right to your pussy.
“Fuck! Angel!” you cried out as your mind swam in pleasure.
No one made you feel the way Angel did, and having the nipple piercings only added to it. You felt as if you could cum just from his tongue on your breast alone. But, just as you felt a tingle up your spine, he pulled away and looked at you with a glazed over expression.
“Shit baby you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed before he dipped back down and attacked your other breast.
One hand stayed in his hair while the other moved to his shoulder, gripping him hard and digging your nails into his skin. Angel didn’t care though, and it actually spurred him on more. He growled into your breast as he took as much of you into his mouth as he could, flicking and sucking at your nipple while he did so. His one hand kneaded your other breast, gently pinching your nipple piercing, while the other kept a firm grip on your hip to keep you in place.
Your cries echoed through the woods, but you didn’t care. Someone could walk in on you right now and you would tell Angel to keep going. His tongue felt so good on your breasts and his large hands kept you grounded and safe. You dropped your head back as your skin warmed while his tongue ran over your piercing over and over again.
That familiar feeling started to build from deep within you. You rocked your hips against Angel as much as you could, desperate for some friction against your pussy. He got the message right away, and while his lip still stayed on your breast, Angel bucked his clothed cock against your cunt, letting out a groan as he did so.
“Fuck… Angel…” you moaned, “I think I’m gonna cum…”
Angel stopped and broke away, a trail of spit connecting your bodies. He stared at you for a moment in awe, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. “Do it, baby,” his tone was low and dripped with lust, “Fucking cum just from be sucking your fucking gorgeous tits.”
With that, he dove back in, with time with more determination to make you cum. He rocked his hips against yours as he licked and sucked at your nipple, the jewelry rolling in between his lips. His hand squeezed your other breast, and he pinched your nipple a few times, savoring the screams you let out.
“Oh fuck… Angel… Fuck!” your legs trembled on either side of his body as you felt your climax quickly build. Your body felt hot as the sensations become almost overwhelming but in the best way possible. And with just a few more swipes of his tongue and thrusts of his hips, you came hard, “Angel!” you screamed his name as tears fell from your eyes.
Angel held onto you while he worked you through your orgasm. His cock screamed in agony, desperate for his own release, but he was too consumed with you to care. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to lick and kiss and suck everywhere you’d let him. He would make you cum a hundred times before he even thought about himself.
When you let out a whimper and tugged at his hair, Angel finally released your breast. He pulled back and the two of you just stared at each other for several mong moments. Neither of you said anything, you just breathed heavily.
Your gaze dropped down to Angel’s cock for a moment before you looked back up at him. Without a word, you reached for his zipper as you licked your lips involuntarily.
“Wait, baby,” he grabbed your wrist. When you gave him a questioning look, he murmured your name, “We have all night baby,” he purred as he cupped your face, “First, I want fuckin’ do that again.”
The moan you let out was the most sinful sound you had ever made in your life. And Angel spent the entire night raviging and worshiping your body until the sun rose. He couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off your nipple piercings, and it wasn’t until you came several times that he finally let you ride him until he came hard deep inside you.
Collapsing down onto the ground in exhaustion, the two of you panted hard. Sweat lined both your bodies, despite losing the warmth from the sun. Angel pulled you in close, wrapping his hard around you and holding you tight.
“That was a nice surprise, baby,” he murmured, “So fucking hot.”
You laughed softly, “You weren’t so bad yourself, Angel.” you teased, hiding how much you truly cared for him.
His hands roamed lazily across your body until they reached your breasts once more. He cupped them, rolling your piercing in his fingers, pulling a soft whimper from you.
“I can’t get enough of these, baby.”
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narcolini · 1 year
Text
ending the night
angel reyes x gn!reader, comfort/fluff, 1982 words
warnings for descriptions of vomiting
for day 12 of whumpril, using the alternate prompt: foodpoisoning 
a/n: honestly, this is whump in the same way dessert pizza is pizza... sweet but not really deserving of the name LMAO anyway. when in doubt write angel having a hard time, am i right ? 
tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas​ 
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You’re sitting on the edge of Angel’s tub, finishing up a final text to his brother, from his phone, not yours, while Angel empties his stomach into the toilet again. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s puked now, but it’s enough times to know that your evening is well and truly over. He had barely made it from the taxi to the house when you got here, and has said almost nothing since you’d found him in the bathroom, knees to the linoleum.
Not that you mind. Not that you expect anything from him at all, in this state. If anything, you feel bad for being so helpless. And for not being sick yourself, weirdly, but that’s just how the straws were pulled. Beyond the water you’ve left for him on the counter, and the company, there’s nothing else you can do. You’ve already opened the window behind, invited cool air to draw in and, more importantly, the sharp smell of vomit to draw out. Texting EZ as if you were him, had been your most recent idea; a last ditch attempt to be productive and to improve the already dire circumstances.
‘Well,’ you announce, clicking Angel’s phone shut, ‘EZ says he can swing by the restaurant and get your bike.’ You watch him nod, head bouncing between in the hole of the toilet seat. ‘And I told him it was me that got sick, so he can’t clown you about it later.’
He laughs, all breath, and it echoes around the porcelain. ‘Thanks.’
You smile. He can’t say that you don’t look out for him, even this early into things. Five, six, dates down—formal ones, anyway—and you’ve skipped right to the in sickness part. Which you’re doing pretty well at, all things considered.
‘I can,’ he starts, pausing to swallow in-between, ‘pay you back. For the Uber.’
You shake your head. ‘Forget it. You got the bill.’ And he’s paying twice for that too, with money and stomach lining. ‘You think it was the chicken?’
He sighs, daring to look back at you briefly, forearms on the seat. ‘No idea. Shit tastes like battery acid now.’
You wince. ‘I wish I could make it stop for you.’ You wish you could go back in time and make him choose the beef dish that you had, avoid all of this mess, and finish the drinks you’d had to abandon at the bar. ‘You want me to pass you the water?’
He shakes his head before spitting into the bowl, clearing his mouth of the last bout of sickness. You’re both waiting, really, to see if it will come again. Angel breathing slowly, audibly, catching his breath over the edge of the seat. You, staring at his shoulders like they might give you any warning of it.
The time between is getting longer, you think. A sign that the worst is done with. If he can make it twenty minutes, fifteen even, and keep down the water he drinks, then you can both relax.
‘Fuck,’ he pants, wiping his nose and mouth with the back of his hand. He slumps away from the toilet, to sit on the floor instead with his back to the tub. Arm side by side with your shin. ‘I never looked this good, right?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ you nod, ‘big time. I’m practically tearing my clothes off right now.’
He groans, dropping his head to put it against your knee. ‘Can’t believe you stuck around to watch me hurl, dulce.’
‘I stuck around,’ you emphasise, ‘to help.’ You smile, glad he can’t see from where he is, because he’s too vulnerable right now, and he might think that you’re laughing at him. ‘I’m actively trying not to watch.’
He exhales, pushing it through his lips. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. Was supposed to a good fucking night, y’know, fancy restaurant and shit, drinks.’  
‘It’s not your fault.’ You pat his head, smoothing your thumb over the shell of his ear. ‘We should probably tell the restaurant, though, because it’s definitely their fault.’
And we deserve a refund, you think, but you don’t say it, because he’ll take that to mean that you didn’t enjoy yourself at all. Right now, he would probably take you standing up to stretch as a cue that you’re gonna leave, sick of him already.
‘You think you’re done?’ you ask, bending over your lap to find his gaze.
He sits upright to help you, then nods, and his eyes flick to your lips momentarily. It’s rare that you’d be so close to one another, and able to resist a kiss, but right now’s an exception. You smile, knowing that he’s thinking it too, seeing the yeah, I get it, in his returning look.
‘Give me a minute,’ he says. ‘Gotta, y’know, make myself smell less like puke.’
‘Course.’ You opt for a kiss to his damp forehead before standing, as close to his mouth as you’ll chance for now.
You decide to wait for him in his room, legs hanging over the end of his bed as the shower cranks to life. It’s the first time you’ve been in here, which isn’t the introduction you had expected, a temporary waiting room while he washed the sick from his beard, but it’s a welcome expansion to your understanding of his home. You’ve been to his place before, but never made it past the couch. He has a preference for it, you think, at least in his own place. He’s had the pleasure of becoming well acquainted with your bedroom, ending the night there the last few times that you’ve met up.
It’s not awkward, being in here, but it is new. Foreign like a hotel room. Granted, a hotel room that someone’s already living in, from the full laundry basket, the used glasses on the side table. The unmade bed you’re perched on.  
It doesn’t seem like he was expecting you to be in here today, either. You should ask him about that. Is your place nicer, or is he just too lazy to clean, and simultaneously too proud to let you see his room as it is? You don’t think you’d mind either answer. It’s nice, really. Clean enough, and comfortable in a way that stops you from feeling shy. If you weren’t waiting for the tell-tale signs of more illness, you’d probably lie back, uninvited, and crawl under the covers like it was your bed already.
After a few minutes, the bathroom door cracks open, steam pouring out of it. He must’ve had the quickest shower he could manage, only long enough to douse the sweat and stench off him, and then out again, dressed in just the jeans from before.
He looks exhausted, so tired and disposed of energy, that you can’t even enjoy the sight of him. His bare chest, the tattoos striking across it. You just about fight the urge to throw your arms out and beckon him forward with grabbing, baby hands, because, oh, he looks so helpless, it hurts.
‘Don’t think I got any shit left in me to throw up,’ he grumbles, dragging himself forward.
‘That’s good.’ You throw him a sympathetic smile. ‘Means you’re over the worst of it.’
He makes a sour face, hand lifting to rub over his stomach. ‘Doesn’t feel like it.’
‘You should probably rest then.’
You didn’t think he could look any more sorry for himself, but that does it, that tugs it out of him. His brows sink even further as he nods, unable to argue that he doesn’t need it, but unable to seem keen on it either.
‘Sorry,’ he says, for the tenth time, ‘I ruined our night.’
You roll your eyes quickly. ‘Who says it’s ruined? We’ve got…’ You find the alarm clock, red numbers glowing in the dim room. ‘At least, what, twelve hours before I gotta leave for work?’
And that’s what the extra sulking was for; he really thought you were gonna dip and leave him here to recover alone. He doesn’t realise that if he wasn’t worth looking after, you would’ve left him at the bar, blowing chunks in the stall.
‘You’re staying?’ he asks
‘You’re sick as a dog, Angel. It’d be actual, like, neglect if I left you right now.’
He sighs, finally letting himself collapse on the bed behind you. When you turn, he’s got his eyes squeezed shut, suffering from the bouncing mattress beneath—a misjudgement on his part. ‘If I wasn’t dying right now,’ he says, ‘I’d kiss you so damn hard.’
You laugh, crawling up the length to be beside him and slouch against the headboard. ‘And give me whatever you have? No thanks.’ You pull the cover free from under you, holding it open as you invite him in. ‘Come on,’ you say, ‘get comfy, chulo.’
He steals a look, opening just one of his eyes to see what you’re offering, before rolling into you, his head on your stomach, his arm threading beneath you and the mattress. You set the quilt down again, pulling it up until it’s covering your legs and his shoulders. Then your hand goes to his hair, natural like you do it nightly, rubbing circles around the crown of his head.
‘Hopefully that’s the last of it,’ you tell him.
He hums, speaking into the cotton of your shirt. ‘If I puke on you right now, I’ll kill myself.’
You laugh, bouncing his head with the force and surprise of it.
‘I’m dead serious, dulce, there’s no coming back from that shit. You’ll dump me before I’m even your boyfriend.’
You scoff, grinning still. ‘Not true,’ you argue. ‘But I would use it against you for the rest of time. Hey Angel,’ you tease, ‘remember when you spewed chicken teriyaki all over me?’
He laughs, but it weans off into a groan, his fingers tightening over your hip. ‘Stop talking,’ he pleads, ‘I can still taste that shit.’
And as funny as it is, you really don’t want to smell, or see, or feel, any more fucking vomit, so you oblige. It falls silent and you let it, fingers twirling in his hair still, disrupting the hold of his gel. He breaths evenly over your stomach, pooling warmth on the parts of your skin that the shirt fails to cover.
After a moment, you remember what he’d said afterwards, about breaking it off with him before you’ve officially gotten together. You smile into the question before you’ve even asked, ‘Do you want to be my boyfriend, Angel?’
He takes a moment to answer, and when he does, he’s mumbling it, talking around the ends of a yawn. 'We really gonna do this now?’
‘Yeah, sorry. Bad timing.’ But you’re smiling still, smirking even. Confident of the answer despite his protest. ‘I wouldn’t mind it, though. Just while we’re on the topic.’
The reply you expect doesn’t come, he doesn’t say anything at all. You try to look at him, but can’t bend far enough, not with his head resting as it is. You can just about see the thick black of his lashes, flicking out from closed eyes.
‘Angel?’
He groans, readjusting until he’s lay on your chest, with his arms wrapped tight around your middle. ‘Your boyfriend is very sleepy,’ he says, waking up just long enough to engage and send your heart-rate soaring. ‘Keep doing that shit with my hair,’ he mutters, adding a, ‘please,’ after a moments reflection.
You laugh, light and soft over the top of his head. ‘Yes, boss.’ You thread your fingers in again, as he asked you to, and trail them across his scalp. ‘I think I like you when you’re sick,’ you muse, basically whispering it now. ‘You’re way cuter.’
‘Mhmm,’ he hums, and that’s the last you get from him. He’s asleep before he can deny it.
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Mr Big - An Angel Reyes/Reader One Shot Story.
So that gif yesterday on the drabble I did prompted this filth. Enjoy, besties! 
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Words - 1,854
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
“I’m curious, Angel.”
“Yeah? What about?”
“About that big dick swagger of yours. I’m wondering just how big it is, because if it measures up with the rest of you then damn, I bet you’d give me a hell of a good time.”  
It was the above exchange that had him laughing, almost bashful for a moment, and definitely taken aback at a woman matching him for being forward. You had game in shades, and he appreciated that.  
It was also what led to the words that suddenly upped the ante in your not so subtle flirting. “Then why don’t you take me home and find out?”  
You agreed. Of course, you did. Would Mr Big match up? Well, at 6ft 3, with his back and chest as wide as a highway, and arms like tree trunks, you certainly hoped so. 
After a short bike ride to your place, the mid-afternoon sun warming your skin, you arrive at your home, Angel on you even before you’re through the front door.  
“God damnit, I want you so badly,” he tells you between kisses, making short work of your clothes, his hands stroking blazing paths of heat over you. “I nearly pulled over three times to fuck you right there at the side of the highway against my bike. Fucking devil woman.”  
“I so wouldn’t have stopped you.” It’s a frenzy of feverish kisses, panting in exertion as he strips you naked, your trembling hands unbuttoning his shirt as he lets his kutte fall to the floor, the shirt following, the heat of his skin a decadent blaze against yours as your hands travel over him. He feels even better than he looks, your tongue running up his chest as your hands squeeze his broad back.
Sitting down on the blanket box at the foot of your bed, you scatter open-mouthed kisses full of hunger over his abs, your tongue wetting the line of dark hair leading down from his navel, unfastening his belt. You are greedy in your pursuit of revealing what thickens beneath the jeans you grasp at next, your mouth salivating, aching to pry it loose and swallow it down. What greets you, though, when a combined effort between you has rendered him naked, well...
“Jesus fucking Christ.”  
Angel snorts softly with laughter at both your words and the look of shock upon your face. “Yeah, that’s the standard reaction.” Your Mr Big is more like Mr Absolutely Fucking Massive. He’s just about to ask if you need a minute when you wrap a hand around his thick shaft, bringing your mouth to the tip, kissing just once, your tongue circling slowly, dragging a rumble from him that is sharp-edged.  
Taking him back, you feel him twitch in your mouth, your fingers stroking over his abs, your jaw strained with the effort, his hands soft in your hair, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. The muscles tighten beneath your fingertips, his breath hitching in his throat as the wet drag of your mouth has heat misting through him.  
A few more passes over him with your mouth has him shaking, his groans all smoke and rasp, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling back from you. “I don’t want you to, but you gotta stop, or I’ll blow my load. Fuck, that pretty mouth is too good.” His dark eyes pool with waves of lust as he lays you back on the bed, your mouth placing kisses across his wide chest, a flick of your tongue and a bite to his nipple making him moan, big hands smoothing down your thighs, his lips meeting your neck.
Oh, his weight on top of you. God, you never thought something as simple as being pressed beneath him would feel quite that good. “Fuck, these tits,” he breathes, propping himself up on his forearm, using his other hand to stroke you. “Fucking beautiful.” His head drops, his mouth covering your nipples in the wet suck of his mouth in turn, tongue circling each bud, the briefest hint of teeth jolting you with a quiver, his lips returning to yours, your kisses all syrupy sin, the feel of his cock skimming against your folds causing you to whimper.  
“Damn, baby,” he breathes, kissing your neck, his hands running through your hair and down your arms, stoking you with pure glittering ecstasy as he shifts his hips, the tip of his hardness meeting your dewy entrance. “You got no idea how much I wanna just push right up inside you, feel that hot little pussy gripping on me, shit.” He begins kissing down your body, tongue swiping over your sternum, hands pressing your thighs wider apart. “I gotta wreck you with my tongue first, though.”  
He descends between your legs, the smell of your womanhood intoxicating to him, any little acts of tease he might’ve inflicted soon abandoned, especially after swiping his thumb through your folds, spreading the little gathering of slick as he brings his mouth to them, tongue pressing firmly, gliding in a long, slow lick. “Fuck me, mamas. You taste beautiful.” His praise, followed by another sumptuously thorough swipe of his tongue has tingles glimmering through you, the pleasure so gorgeously thorough, you feel like if this is just the start of it, your brain might be short-circuiting by the time he’s done.  
The drag of his tongue in repeated licks over your clit has you sparking, your fingers tangling in his silky black hair, little cries filling the air, the filthy indulgence bestowed on you causing lightning to flicker at the base of your spine. His mouth is all relentless hunger, sucking on you, stroking your folds before pushing two fingers inside of you, circles of purely sinful heat laved over your clit, his fingertips seeking out every last nerve ending within you, stroking slowly, rubbing utter bliss as he smiles against you, your wail feral and coarse.  
“Fuck, baby. This pretty little pussy is getting so wet. Mmmm, I can’t wait to feel you cum all over my tongue.” he groans, sucking you hard, the tip of his tongue beating over your clit at speed, your legs shaking violently as you pant breathlessly. The intensity burns down to your very bones, heat skittering through your veins, until it’s blooming wildly, all the colours of summer bursting behind your closed eyelids.  
He grants no clemency from the hypnotic beat of his tongue over your bud in the wake of your undoing, tasting your hot, pink folds with swirls and flickers as you gush onto his lips, his beard wet with your nectar as he sucks a mouthful of your cunt, your hands tight in his hair as you feel the coil within you tightening again.  
Needing you, he emerges, your belly kissed by wettened lips before his mouth is on yours, his cock bumping against you in his blinding need to join you, grunting with light annoyance at the miss. Frustration and want flashes his eyes, his teeth prickling your nipple as you raise your hips to him, facilitating his body to align perfectly with yours, your muscles bouncing with lustful quakes as with one fluid push, he’s within you, parting your heat, and god... he feels more incredible than you ever imagined he would.    
You’re skewered on him, feeling boneless against him as his mouth buries at your neck. The pressure and power of him within is like taking an entire storm inside you, his hips rutting eagerly as he reaches your summit, bottoming out and dragging back, your cunt hugging him greedily in desperation for him to do it again, fill you wantonly and make you whole.  
Stars explode through your groin, a knife edge of pleasure ripping through you, your hands stroking his face as he continues to kiss you, all fire, sin and honey, cusses tumbling from his lips as your soaking core grips around him. You hang onto him as he spears you so deep your stomach shudders, legs and arms clinging on around his bulk as he begins to quicken, his mouth back on yours as his fingers graze your scalp and comb through your hair.  
The feel of him rutting against you, dragging wetness from your cunt with every thrust, your dew bathing his cock entirely, you finally slacken and relax, moving fluidly against him as you pant against his shoulder, his mouth finding yours and stealing hot kisses from your lips.  
He is tight and heavy within you, imposing and unimaginable in size and prowess, the power and rhythm of his fuck making you dizzy and drunk on him, his big hands grasping your face as your tongues entwine, his teeth then grazing your lower lip.
A grumbled groan wells in his throat, hips jerking and sending him deeper, your walls clenching around him instinctively, a whimper fluttering over your lips as he drags sparks through you, pleasure taking root and coiling around the base of your spine like a vine about to ascend. You thought taking such a huge cock would be painful, but god, how thoroughly he prepared you to be split so wide, breeched so deep, and fuck, how he knows exactly how to evoke absolutely nothing but the burning sparks of utter bliss.
He begins to pound into you with unhinged vigour and boundless determination, syrupy bliss stirred in your loins, your hands running down his wide, tattooed back and delighting in the feel of every rise and fall of his chiselled, bulky muscles, drinking him in, savouring how fucking perfect the moment is, how no one has ever felt better inside you than him.  
His voracious dominance overwhelms you entirely, your body once again tensing around him as you chase your release, wanting to drag the same from him into you, your bodies colliding wildly as you pant and groan like animals in heat, everything frenzied and fervid.  
You’re away from yourself, floating adrift, lost in the mist until his thunder brings you home, is your anchor pulling your back, the lightning shooting your spine awakening you into full bloom around him, an almost wounded cry leaving your open mouth as your nails claw his shoulders and rake his back. His uncontained hips piston his crest, his cock spurting into you deep, so deep with every wave of release he groans through, thick and hot, like what he leaves of himself within your pulsing walls, utterly spent.  
He moves gently in the wake of all that was urgent and barbarous, his cock twitching within your heat before he becomes still, gazing down at you as your breathing steadies, eyes so bright it’s as if stars fell into his blown pupils. He lays his forehead to yours, fingertips trailing your cheeks, sweaty and breathless.  
“So, I live up to my swagger, right?” Of course, he’d ask that. Of course, he would.  
You smile, kissing him, gently nibbling his lower lip. “Hmm, maybe show me again, just so I can be sure?”
He shrugs lightly, fingertips tracing beads of sweat upon your clavicles, leaning to kiss your throat a couple of times. “Seems only fair.”  
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Jealously Makes Lovers
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Ez Reyes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: reader is bishop’s daughter, some swearing, alcohol and the consumption of, smoking, reader and Angel are long time besties, a small mention of death and murder, use of a misogynistic term, spoilers for bishop’s storyline in S3, being tipsy, a little makeout scene, a little bit of cheesy flirting, little bit of tension between ez and bishop, a single punch, blood and injury, a few kisses. 
Word Count: 5k 
Author’s Note: did this stem from a middle of the night fantasy ? yes it did and what :) // this one’s for you babe @halsteadssneakylink​ just cause you said I make him attractive to you <3
----
Santo Padre was home.
As much as you hated to admit it, the place grew on you and you always wound up back there. You travelled for work and you tended to drift away from your roots but home was home.
25 years old and you’re moving back in with your father. To him, you were still the 12 year old kid that moved in with him all those years ago. Surely you’ve grown but things never seemed to change in Santo Padre.
The hot sun beat down against your skin and the warmth made you a little sticky. Your feet dragged along the sandy path to the clubhouse and you walked through the gate to be greeted by Coco who slings an arm over your shoulder.
“Y/n! When’d you get back, babe? Bish didn’t say nothing.” He mumbles, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. “Yeah, probably to keep me from your crazy ass.” you tease, making him laugh as you two walk up the steps to the door.
Coco opens the door for you, letting you step in away from the heat. You look around, nothing’s changed in the 3 years you’ve been gone.
“Mija!” your dad walks over, arms open for a hug which you’re pulled into. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day at home.” he asks, walking you over to the bar.
You take a seat on the stool, shrugging. “Felt like going for a walk.”
“You walked from the house? That's a 40 minute walk.” he slides a coke over the counter to you.
You shrug once more, “I felt like walking. Also,” you slide the coke back over to him, “I'm not 12 anymore.” You reach over the counter, grabbing a beer from the lower countertop. You pop the bottle open on the edge of the bar top before taking a sip.
Bishop stares at you, his head tilts slightly before questioning you; “where’d you  learn how to do that?”
You laugh, nodding towards Hank who was sitting on the couch. “Taught me since I was like 16, dad.” Your father rolls his eyes, taking the beer from you and taking a swing before handing it back to you.
Bishop comes around the bar, his arm wrapping around you, giving you a good squeeze. “Angel’s in the shop. He’ll probably want to see you; I know you two were..” he trails off, not wanting to admit what he thought was happening between you and the oldest Reyes brother.
“We what ? Were screwing ?” you say deadpan, looking at your father. He visibly cringes, pushing you off the stool lightly.
“Get out of here, I have shit to do. Fucking weirdo.” he groans, making you laugh.
“Love you!” you giggled, stepping out the door. You stopped by the rows of bikes, Coco was sitting with Gilly who was working on his bike.
“When’d you get home, missy?” Gilly asks, looking up at you from his spot beside his bike.
“Why was my homecoming such a secret ? Y’all have let club secrets spill faster than this.” You roll your eyes, walking off towards the shop.
Angel had his back turned to you and was leaning into the car, trying to fix something. He had on one of those green button ups that they wore when they were working on the cars. You decide to sneak up on him, you weren't even sure if it would work but you’d try.
You quietly walk over to the man, lifting his shirt gently and snaking a hand under it. He froze when he felt the hand, instantly turning to see who it was. A smile appears on his face when he sees you.
“Hey mama,” he picks you up, hugging you tightly. You clung to the man, smiling and hugging him back. He puts you down after a moment, your arms still wrapped around him. “When’d you get home?”
“God, you’re like the millionth person to ask me that shit. I got home a few days ago. I've been trying to readjust to living with my dad, which we both know is the biggest pain in the ass.”
Angel laughed, slinging his arm over your shoulder. You lean into his side, you missed him; even though the relationship aspect didn’t work out for you two, you still remained really good friends. The shop looked the same, nothing changed in Santo Padre; that’s what you loved about it.
Home was always home.  
The two of you walked into the office area and Chucky was sitting at the desk. “Hi y/n nice to see you, how are you?” Chucky asks, moving a chair beside the desk for you to take a seat.
You set the beer on the counter, taking a seat. “I’m good Chuck, how you been? Hopefully the boys haven’t been roughing you up.”
“Nothing I could not handle.” he nods, turning his attention back to whatever he was doing on the computer in front of him.
Angel had disappeared in the few moments you were talking to Chucky. You decide to stay there seeing that the AC was running and you were comfortable in your chair.
There's a couple that walk in, a man with his arm around an obnoxiously loud blonde.  He’s telling her to calm down when you recognize the voice, looking over which you regret the moment you do. His eyes meet yours and his brows pull together, smiling at you.
Nowhere to run now.
“Y/n! I didn’t know you were back,” the man smiles, your evil ex boyfriend, Mark. Well, not evil but you hated his guts with a passion.
He cheated on you while you were in college, simply because you were ‘too busy’ for him when it really was this simple; if you were alive and had a vagina, he’d fuck you.
“Yup.” you mumble dryly, taking a sip of your beer.
“How’s your dad been?” he asks, continuing the conversation you desperately wanted to get away from.
“Probably plotting your demise.” you hum and he laughs.
You were serious though; Bishop had said on multiple occasions that if he ever finds the man that cheated on his little girl, he'd kill him, with his bare hands.  
The woman tucked under his arm turns to Chucky, “is my car ready?” she asks him and he tells her he’s not sure.
“God, do you fucking know anything?” she grumbles under her breath and you get off your chair.
“Don’t fucking talk to him like that.” you say, a little harsher than necessary.
The blonde steps away from your ex, towards you. She’s in your face at this point, “or what, bitch?”
“I’ll kill you, skank.”
You’re about to hit her but you feel a pair of arms wrap around your torso, lifting you off the ground. You figured it was Angel and the person carried you out of the office but not before you could shout some unpleasant words her way. The man was still carrying you, now going through the garage and you felt your heart nearly stop when you see Angel leant over into a car.
If he was there, who the fuck was carrying you?
You smacked the person’s hand lightly, they seemed to get the hint and put you down. You turn, meeting the man who was carrying you.
He was staring back at you, his tan skin glistening under the heat of the sun. He smiled at you and you took a moment to admire him. Beautiful brown eyes, a buzzcut that he somehow pulled off even though you found it repulsive on anyone else, a set of strong shoulders and arms to match and you almost swoon when he flashed you a smile - though you blame the swooning on the heat and dehydration.
The patch on his kutte says prospect; this was trouble waiting to happen.
“Who are you?” he beats you to the question.
“Could ask you the same thing, you just picked up and carried me out, you could be a kidnapper.”
“You’re a grown woman, who would kidnap you?” The man holds back a laugh.
You shrug, “it happens!”
“Will you fuckers shut up?” Angel grumbles, wiping his hands on a rag. “Mama, this is Ez, my annoying ass, less handsome brother. Ez, this is y/n, Bishop’s kid.” Angel slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
Ez smiles, nodding at you. “Yeah, well, Y/n almost fought someone in the office.”
Angel looks down at you, a questioning look on his face. “It was Mark and his girl of the week.” You tell him and he nods, “that’s her car, want me to fuck it up?” he offers and you eagerly nod. “Would you?” you look up at your friend, wrapping your arms around his torso.
“You two are fucked in the head.” Ez scoffs at the two of you, making you both laugh. Angel untangles himself from you, letting you go. “Go with Ez, and stay out of trouble.”
“Trouble’s my middle name, baby!” you shout at Angel, jogging to catch up with Ez.
“Angel dumped me on you which was stupid cause I’m not a kid.”
“I’m sure Bish doesn’t think that.” Ez jokes, sitting on the steps of the clubhouse. “Yeah - he gave me a coke instead of a beer today.” you tell Ez, sitting beside him.
He laughs, staring off into the distance before speaking. “I knew Bish had a kid but I didn’t know y’all were close.”
“Yeah, I moved back a few days ago.”
“Where were you before that?” he looks over at you, “if you don't mind my asking.”
“New York, Georgia and then Mexico. After that, I figured it was time to come home.”
“You travel for work?” “Yeah, I'm a nurse.” you hum, picking at your nail polish.
“Can I ask you another question ?” Ez asks you. You nod, “what’s it like having Bishop as a dad? I can’t even wrap my head around that concept.” he laughs and the sound of his laughter makes you smile.
“He was always good to me. I moved in with him when I was.. 12 maybe? It was just after Aidan passed because my mother thought it would be good for him to be with me or some shit like that but she really just wanted to party and not take responsibility for me.” you tell him, EZ nods.
“I’m sorry.” “Don’t be, she was a crappy mom anyways. Dad treats me ten times better than she ever could.”
You take a breath, exhaling before continuing. “Granted he wasn't around much but at least, I had a place to sleep, clothes and food to eat so I didn’t have anything to complain about. It took a long time for us to connect - I had moved away with my mom when I was 5 so we didn’t really know each other, you know?”
“But, you two are okay now?”
“Yeah, he's my best friend; other than your brother.” You say.
“You know, I remember when he was a prospect.” you chuckle to yourself at the memory. “I didn’t know what it meant to be a prospect back then; dad kept me away from the outlaw shit but I knew it had to be bad considering all the bruises and blood they’d would come back with”
“So you basically grew up in this shithole?” He looks back at the house. You smile, nodding. “Don’t knock it, the bond y’all have is for life. I grew up with them; dad, Angel, Coca and Gilly, Hank, Riz - all of ‘em. They’re my family whether I like it or not.” you tell him.
Ez nods in agreement. “I know - so they’re what made you want to get into nursing huh?”
“All the blood and bruises were practice before theory.” you smiled. “I spent most of my weekends stitching up wounds and changing bandages; but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Had it not been for dad and the guys, I wouldn’t be where I am today. They really pushed me to be the best I could be, especially dad and Angel.”
“Angel?” Ez questions, looking at you with confusion. “I can’t imagine Angel pushing anyone to do anything.” he jokes.
“Angel would spend hours on that same worn out couch in there, keeping me company while I studied. He’d even quizzed me.” you give Ez a ‘I'm serious’ look.
“Okay but what I don't get is that if they all wanted you to do so well, why not talk about it? You’re clearly incredibly talented.”
The praise brings a red hue to your cheeks, one you’re hoping you can pass off as the heat. “That’s exactly it. If they brag, well, you know how these things go - family is your biggest strength but the greatest downfall in the hands of the wrong people.”
“Who knew Bish could have such a smart kid?” he looks at you in amazement and you shake your head, laughing. “Let him hear you say that shit.”
“Let me hear what ?” your father asks, stepping out of the clubhouse. You and Ez look back at the man and you glance at Ez, he shrugs. “Nothing Bish.”
Bishop hums, looking between the two of you. “I’m headed out but I can give you a ride home, unless you're wearing that tonight ?” your father looks towards you, eyeing your outfit; you had on an old t-shirt that belongs to him and a pair of shorts.
“Obviously not.” you roll your eyes, getting up and brushing the sand off the back of your shorts. “C’mon, I’m leaving.” He tells you, stepping between you and Ez, walking towards his motorcycle.
“Can I drive?!” you shout to your father, running down the stairs and over to him. Your father shook his head, getting on and nodding for you to sit behind him.
You pouted at the man, hoping he’d give in and let you drive but he didn’t budge.
“You suck.” you grumble, getting on behind him. The man laughs, patting your hand when you wrap your arms around him.
Ez watched the exchange happen, smiling to himself, wondering if someday he’d have the same thing happen to him with his daughter.
He could only hope that he’d have that.
----
It was a bit past one in the morning when you decided to call it a night. The clubhouse is full of life and party, people in every corner having loud conversations and honestly, your head was starting to spin.
It was your first party home in a long time and you may have let loose a little more than intended.
Setting the beer bottle on the floor, you stand and stay in one spot for a minute, gaining your balance back. You manage to navigate your way through the crowd and out into the yard which was full of people too.
You stop by the stairs, slowly making your way down as you look around for your dad. You were in no condition to drive and hopefully he’d be able to take you home or Angel could take you.
Either way, you need to go home before the yard starts to spin too.
Bishop was sitting on the chair by the bikes, Ez and Angel with him as well as Hank. You manage to walk over without falling flat on your face and you squeeze in between your dad and Hank.
Your father looks in your direction; you were slouching between the two men, your head on his shoulder and your eyes droopy. Not to mention the red hue on your cheeks. “You okay mija?”
“I think I need to go home and get some sleep. Can you take me, papi?”
You used to call him papi when you were a kid and now that you’ve grown up, it was dad; but you’ll always be his little girl so whenever he hears that word, his heart melts.
“I would but I got a meeting with the kings, baby.” he kisses your forehead as you lean into his side.
He holds you close for a moment, moments like these were few and far in between.
Bishop looked around for a second; he needed Hank there and Angel, plus Angel was too drunk to drive anyways.
That left Ez.
“Ez, take her home.” He’s already standing and walking over to help you up. Bishop presses a kiss to your forehead before letting Ez help you up.
“Take care of her or I’ll kill you.” He threatens the prospect, making you laugh. You shake your head, linking arms with him, “he’s joking.”  
“I’m not joking.” He calls out to you two and you wave him off, getting onto the motorcycle. Ez makes sure you've got a helmet on before getting on and pulling out.
The drive home felt like it breezed by, mostly because your cheek was pressed to Ez’s back and your eyes were closed for all of it. When it comes to a stop, he gets off first and turns to you.
You were already swinging your legs off, sitting on the edge of the seat with Ez standing in front of you, unbuckling the helmet. He pulls it off and sets it to the side only to see that your hair has frizzed up in the few minutes. He gently brushed a hand over your hair, smoothing the parts that were sticking up. Your hands were on his kutte, holding onto it as you studied his face in the yellow streetlight.
“How you feeling ?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to look at you.  
“Better.” you smile, the smile instantly fading when you see the porch light of the house across the street turn on.
Ez follows your gaze, noticing the obvious displeasure on your face. He looked over at the house, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. Just a regular house with your ex boyfriend, Mark coming out of the front door.
“Ah.” He hums, turning back to look at you. “Does he do that often?”
“No clue, he’s a fucking weirdo.” you grumble, looking back at Ez.
There's a glint of mischief in the man’s eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans into you. His hands snake around your waist, stepping a little closer to you.
“Wanna make him jealous ?” Ez asks, his lips brushing against your ear and your heart skips a beat.
You weren't thinking when you nodded, your hands resting against his chest when he closed the gap between the two of you. Ez’s lips were soft against yours, his warm hands resting just under the hem of your skirt now.
You can’t help but pull him closer so that he's standing between your legs. He grabs your leg, hitching it to hook on his hip as his hand rubs along your thigh. It was as if you lost yourself in the kiss but you felt his lips move from yours and down to your jaw.
The reason for the kiss had completely slipped your mind.
Your body moves against his, wanting more than he's able to give you at that moment. EZ pushes your hair away from your neck, his hand coming to rest on the side of it. You lean into his touch, giving him space to kiss along the newly exposed skin.
His hand on your back pulls you forward and your own hand hits somewhere on the bike, holding yourself up and against him.
The sudden flash of light causing both of you to pull away, Ez lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. The thought of Bishop catching the two of you making out when he was just supposed to drop you off definitely instilled fear somewhere in Ez’s mind.
“You hit the lights.” he chuckles, his arm around you, holding you close as he reaches around you to turn it off. You hum, smiling as you look over his shoulder.
Mark was still sitting on his porch, his focus directly on you and Ez.
Ez turns his attention back to you and you grab the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. It only lasts for a few seconds but the passion coming from it was enough to tell Mark to fuck off.
The door slams on the other side of the street and you two pull away from each other, giggling like teenagers.
“Think that did it?” Ez asks, his forehead resting on yours.
You nod, smiling at him. Your hand cups his cheek, thumb caressing it softly. “Wanna come in?” you ask quietly, as if you were gonna summon your father if you said it louder.
“I don’t know if I should-” “’Cause of this?” your finger drags along the patch sewn into his kutte.
EZ watches as you run your finger along the patch, moving up to his shoulder, along his neck and finally resting under his chin. You pull him to look you in the eyes.
“Come in.”
Your hand is in his, walking towards the front door. He wasn’t resisting even though his brain was screaming at him in big red letters to leave. Ez follows you into the house, locking the door behind the two of you.
He really should leave but he follows you all the way to your bedroom before he finally comes to a halt.
You look back at the man standing in the doorway. “What?” you ask, already searching for something to change into.
“He’ll be home soon.”
You stop and turn to face Ez. “He’s spending the night at the club. He’s got business with the kings.”
Reaching for the hem of your shirt, “are you staying?”
You grab it and pull it over your head before tossing it to the man. “Or going?”
He steps into the room, dropping the shirt on the floor and shutting the door. “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod, “a hundred percent.”
Ez smiles, walking over and picking you up. “What are you doing?” you laugh, settling yourself on his lap when he sits on your bed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
There’s nothing to blame the blush that’s creeping up your cheek on. So instead, you pay him a complaint. “Says Mr. Handsome.” you tease, making him laugh.
Ez lays back on your bed and you get off, settling beside him, your leg tossed over his lap and your arm draped over his torso. His arm was around you and two of his fingers trailed along your shoulder, tracing little patterns into your skin. You look up at the man, the moonlight from the window shining into the room.
“Ez?” and he hums, now looking at you. You smile, “no, what does Ez stand for? I’m sure that’s not what’s on your birth certificate.”
“Ezekiel.”
“Ezekiel.” You repeat, smiling. Ez smiles too, the sound of his name falling from your lips was now his favourite sound; he could listen to you say it forever.
His arm tightens around you, holding you a little closer. “Weren't you supposed to be sleeping already ?”
“I would have been but this handsome guy decided to makeout with me on his bike soooo” you hum, looking up at him. Your words make him blush, rolling his eyes playfully.
“I’ll be here when you wake up, get some sleep.” he rubs along your side softly.
“If you chicken out when you hear dad pull in, the window’s the fastest way out.” you tell him, shutting your eyes but you can feel his questioning stare. “Just because I wasn't allowed around club stuff doesn’t mean I didn’t have a life, Ezekiel.”
Ez chuckles, kissing your forehead. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
----
The sun is peeking through the curtains and you groan. Your head is pounding and the smell of whatever the neighbours were cooking was making you want to puke.
When you roll over, you see that your bedroom window is open which probably means Ez opened it but you also see that your bed is empty.
Ez’s shoes are gone and so is he or so you thought until you hear shouting from the kitchen. Your dad’s voice echoed through the house, making you want to pull a pillow over your head and go back to sleep.
It was barely half past ten, who the hell could he be talking to already ?
“Nothing happened, how many times do I need to say that?” you hear Ez’s voice, making you instantly sit up.
You grab the closet shirt you can find and pull it on as you run down the hallway to the kitchen. There's a loud smack just as you reach the kitchen; Ez stumbles back, his hand over his nose with a painful expression on his face and your dad‘s expression mirrors his but his hand is in a fist.
“Dad! What the hell!” You shout, walking over to Ez.
You gently move his hand from his nose, sitting him on the chair at the table. You crouch down to check if his nose was broken - it wasn't but it was bleeding. Standing again, you shift Ez to sit forward, tilting his head down slightly so the blood would drip out.
Next, you walk over to your father who already has a cold towel on his knuckles. He winces, pulling the cigarette from his lips as you feel his hand. “Nothing’s broken.” you tell him, wrapping the towel back around it.
He takes a pull from the cigarette, “coulda told you that.” He says which makes you roll your eyes.
Making your way back to Ez, you lift his chin to check his nose once more. You hand him a few tissues before bending down to wipe the blood off the floor. “Why’d you hit him? He didn’t do anything.” the question directed to your father.
“Didn’t do anything ? He was in bed with you, neither of you had a shirt on!”
You glance up at Ez whose face was a mix of mortified and pain, you bite back a laugh. “I wasn’t naked, you’re so dramatic, papi. It’s not like we slept together - well we did, but only in the same bed. Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened ?” your father asks, and you turn to look at him, nodding. “Nothing happened, I promise.”
“Fine,” he says, “if you say so.”
Ez’s eyes widen, looking at you in disbelief. “Why didn’t he-” Shh, don’t even bother.” you take the tissue from him, gently wiping away the left over blood.
You toss it in the trash and wash your hands, “how about breakfast?” you ask the men, both of them saying they need to get to the clubhouse.
“Head out without me.” Bishop tells Ez, walking out of the kitchen and down the hallway.
“I’ll walk you out.” you stretch your hand out, Ez cautiously grabbing it as you two walk out of the house together. You two walk over to his motorcycle that’s parked on the street. You’re sitting on the edge of the seat, Ez standing between your legs, mirroring your position from last night.
His fingertips barely brush against your thigh. “I should probably get going.” He whispers, eyes meeting yours.
You hum, “probably.” Your hand reaches for his, pulling him closer to you.
Ez’s hand moves, resting against your torso. “Can your dad see us?” he glances at the window, you look over your shoulder and shake your head.
“No. C’mere.” You reach for his kutte, pulling him towards you and closing the gap. Your lips on his and he leans into you, his hands on your lower back. “I really should go.” He mumbles against your lips, between kisses.
“Mhm hm.” your lips still on his, his hands reaching down to give your ass squeeze which makes you laugh, pulling away from the kiss. “Smooth, Ez, real smooth.”
“I try,” he flashes you a smile and his hands pull you away from the bike, getting on. You watch as he puts on his helmet, snickering to yourself. “What ?” he asks, smiling at you as he puts on his sunglasses.
“You look like a dork.” you say through giggles, hunched over in laughter. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re adorable but the glasses and the helmet; I can’t help it.” you laughed, Ez rolled his eyes and grabbed your waist, pulling you to his side.
“Shut up, like you didn’t just get busted with a boy in your room this morning.”
“Need I remind you that you were the boy, Ezekiel.”
The use of his name makes him smile. “Say it again.” he whispers, kissing along your jaw.
“Say what- ah.” you rest a hand on his cheek. “Have a good day, Ezekiel.” you smile, leaning in to give him one last kiss before stepping back onto the curb.
You watch him pull off and head down the street and as soon as he does, your father walks out. “I don't know what time I'll be home.” he calls out to you, causing you to turn and walk towards him.
“That's okay, gonna unpack and stuff today.” You meet him on the front porch. “Come by the house if you need anything, or call. Okay ?” he pulls you in for a hug.
“I will, be safe.” you tell him, smiling.
Your father’s hand is still holding your arm, “by the way, I did see that.” he says, kissing your forehead before walking down the steps to the driveway.
---- 
taglist: @twistnet​ @withakindheartx​ 
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garbinge · 8 months
Text
Poorly Healed
Angel Reyes & F!Reader
From these August Prompts: A Poorly Healed Injury
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: Angsty. F!Reader has a kid with Angel.
Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics  @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie
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“I thought you told me that wasn’t bothering you anymore?” Your voice startled Angel. 
He was standing in the kitchen, his hand over his bicep where a bullet had grazed his skin a earlier this week, his face wincing in pain as he applied pressure. But the minute he heard your voice he snapped out of it and turned to you, his face full of shock and you could see the gears in his head turning as he tried to come up with an excuse. 
“Don’t even try.” You took two steps into the kitchen before grabbing his arm and looking at the wound. It was red, while it had started to scab, it didn’t look proper, it looked like it hurt. “Jesus Angel. This shit is infected.” You were mad but more so, you were concerned. 
“Go.” You nodded towards the door in the kitchen that lead to your backyard. “Go sit on the back porch, I have some antibiotics and should have something to sterilize whatever the fuck this turned into.”
He did as you said, moving to your covered back porch, it was dusk out, but the sunset was still offering ample amount of light. The chair he sat on faced the yard which was just plain yard until a forrest full of trees filled it. The sound of the highway that was only a few miles away buzzed as white noise in the background. 
You walked out soon with two medications, antibiotics and pain meds, along with antibiotic cream and alcohol. 
“You don’t care about scarring, right?” You asked him already knowing the answer. Angel might have been a pretty boy but he didn’t care about a scar. 
“It’ll make a good story.” He smiled from ear to ear as he took his shirt off so the wound was fully able to be treated, although a simple sleeve rollup would have sufficed. Again, pretty boy. 
“Good story, huh?” You began to clean the wound with alcohol, patting it with cotton balls and q-tips. “This one time I got shot at and even though it nearly missed my heart, it sure as hell gave my girl a heart attack because the call she got from the MC was Angel’s been shot, get down to the clubhouse.” You mocked the phone call from one of the prospects who called you. 
“To be fair, that was more Bottle’s fault, not mine.” Angel defended himself. 
“It’s more the fact that you got shot, Angel.” You stopped applying the neosporin to look up at him. 
“I know, it was a stupid situation we got put in, it’s not gonna happen again. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Angel rested his other hand on your knee. 
“That’s the thing Angel, I’m always worried.” 
Your eyes were locked on eachother, faces serious now. He knew what you were saying, he agreed, but it was more complicated than that, and you knew it but didn’t want to believe it because if there was a will there was a way. 
“We aren’t kids anymore, Ang.” You inhaled and closed your eyes, softening your voice before opening your eyes to lock with his again. “We’re not 23 looking for the next cheap thrill, the drugs, the partying, the money, it was fun then, but now, its scary– it’s terrifying honestly, not knowing when you’re coming home–if you’re going to come home, we have a kid, Angel. A child. Who looks up to you. You want him to sit at that table? Look what that shit did to Guero. He’s fuckin’ drowning in that emotion, in that regret, that revenge. I’m not even around the way I used to be and I can see that shit.”
“It’s not that easy, querida. I’m trying.” Angel pleaded with you. 
“I need you to try harder.” You picked your hand up and grabbed his face. “We need you to try harder.” You referred to your son. 
He rested his forehead against yours after letting out a deep sigh. 
“I want you to be happy.” He whispered. 
“I am happy. I have a beautiful son, beautiful family, a home, a handsome man,” You added some humor in your voice to those words to make him smile, “I just want the luxury of knowing when you walk out that door the odds of you coming back home are in my favor.” 
“Shouldn’t be a luxury.” Angel’s voice got serious. 
“I know.” You agreed with him and pulled away from him to continue applying the cream to his arm. 
“EZ should have been the one to call you when I got shot.” Angel back tracked to the vague phone call you got from Bottles that day. 
“I shouldn’t have to get that call.” You retorted. 
“I know.” He repeated your words back to you. 
You wrapped his arm with gauze and a bandage. “Take one of each of these, and for the love of God, Angel, let me clean this out everyday.” 
“Deal.” He tapped the bandage before leaning over and putting his hands around your waist to bring you to sit on his lap and stare out into the yard, the sun setting and the light dissipating as the minutes passed. 
“I think we should move to Mexico.” You had your arm around his shoulder but hand tangled in his hair. 
“Mexico, huh?” He started to caress your arm lightly with his fingers. 
“Yea, I think our boy would love it, plus it’d be nice to bring your dad back to his home, even if it's not the same town, it’d still feel more like home than Santo Padre ever did I’m sure.”
“Good luck getting him out of that house.” Angel laughed. 
“You underestimate the powers of a 2 year old little kid.” You smirked and leaned your head on top of Angel’s. 
“He’s there now?” Angel asked where your child was and you hummed to answer him. “I’ll go pick him up.” 
Angel was now standing up getting ready to head out, you were standing now too, soaking in the quick kiss Angel left on your lips before he was walking away. 
“Angel.” You called out to him, a little desperation in your voice. The fear of him not coming home haunting you like it did every time he left the house. 
“It should’ve been EZ.” You repeated the statement from your conversation earlier, it was something Angel said but you never agreed with it then. The fear of him not coming home and getting a call like you did when he was shot was eating you alive and you hoped he saw that without you needing to explain further. 
He turned around, his face looked heartbroken because he knew exactly what was going through your head. 
“I’ll let him know.” 
With that, he nodded and pulled out his phone so you’d know he was calling to tell EZ right now, it wasn’t what you truly wanted. You wanted Angel to tell EZ he was leaving, done with the club, but you’d take this. If you had to deal with the uncertainty of club life, at least you had some comfort knowing if anything happened EZ was going to be the one calling you to break the news, the right way. As if there was a right way to break that kind of news, but based on the past experience, you knew there was definitely a wrong way of doing it and you could breathe easy knowing that’d never happen again. 
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berberriescorner · 1 year
Note
Get Your Act Together” - Angel Reyes x Black Reader snippet. Pleaseeee 🙏🏽
Sorry it took a minute to answer. I never got the notification for the ask lovely. It’s not edited so please excuse any mistakes. Hope you enjoy it💓!
Angel Reyes x Black!Reader
Snippet:
“Get Your Act Together”
Your heels clicked over to Angel. Sliding your hands up his chest, you looked up at him with fluttering lashes. Face painted with an innocent expression, you stood on your tiptoes to steal a quick kiss. He smiled down at you thinking he had won. You leaned in and teased him.
“Ass fat. Kitty fat. I got all these men wishing they could have that. Baby, just admit that you love it here,” you smirked trying to get a rise out of him.
Angel kissed his teeth and was about to say something sarcastic, but Ez cut him off, “God, I did not need to know that,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry, bro but he needs to be reminded of what he’s got at home,” you teased the flustered Mayan.
Kissing his teeth Angel retorted, “you the one acting up. Better chill out before I give you some act right.”
“I mean come on ‘mano, that ass is fat. You better appreciate that fine ass woman,” Coco challenged.
Angel looked at him as if he had lost his mind. It took everything in Ezekiel to keep from laughing.
Still staring at Coco like a mad man he replied, “bitch, do you want me to shoot you? Stop looking at my girl’s ass!”
Ezekiel wanted in on busting his brother's ball’s. Like a typical annoying baby brother, he chimed in, “sister or not. We’re not actual blood, so I’ve gotta agree with Coco, brother-.”
“Don’t finish that fucking statement Ezekiel,” Angel warned.
Ez and Coco exchanged a knowing glance before the words tumbled out of his mouth.
“What? It’s the truth! That’s a nice ass, with a nice set of ti-.”
In a split second Angel was lunging at Ezekiel. With your help, Coco managed to break up the scuffle amongst the brothers.
Feedback is greatly appreciated my loves. Feel free to love and reblog🥰.
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ravennaortiz · 5 months
Text
Day 13: Naughty List
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Summary: Smut with Angel x Reader. 18+
"Good way to get on my naughty list" you stated as your eyes Angel as he walked over your freshly mopped floors with his dirty boots. Angel cringed as he looked behind him at the trail of foot prints. In his defense he hadn't expected you to be mopping at two in the morning. He wasn't about to defend himself though as his mama had taught him better and your pregnancy hormones had you more homicidal than usual.
"I'm sorry mi amor. I'll clean it and get back on your nice list in no time" stated Angel as he reached out for the mop. His eyes trailed over your beautiful body that was encased in a sleep tank, hugging all of your curves."Uh huh. I'm going to bed don't wake me up" you replied as you rolled your eyes as you handed him the mop and trying to ignore the heat of his gaze. Angel chuckled as he mopped he knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long.
*Upstairs*
Angel quickly and quietly showered before joining you in bed. Pulling you closer to him he rubbed his hand over your belly and kissed your exposed shoulder. "Angel" you warned as his hand traveled between your legs. "I wanna apologize" murmured Angel as he nuzzled into your neck breathing in your sweet scent and making you shiver. "Okay" you murmured as his hand moved between your thighs. "Already so wet for me, mi amor" cooed Angel as he slipped one of his long fingers into you making you cry out. Angel smirked into your neck as he pushed another finger into you as he nipped at your tender neck. "Angel" you moaned as your body clenched around him. Pregnancy had made you so sensitive and already you could feel your orgasm start to build. "Not yet" murmured Angel as he removed his fingers making you whine.
Angel lifted your right leg slightly as he slid his rock hard cock between your folds making you jump at the sensation. Angel groaned at the feel of your arousal as he pushed into you slowly from behind. "You feel so good baby" he murmured into your ear as he moved one hand to your throat as he continued to slide into you. "F-Fuck Angel" you moaned as your vision tunneled and pressure built in your lower belly before tipping you over the edge. "More where that came from" groaned Angel as he felt your release coat his aching cock as he started thrusting into you with slow deep strokes as he moved his hand down to your clit. "To--Too much" you moaned as you tried to swat his hand away from your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Stop" ordered Angel gently as he pulled you back and on top of him so he could grab your hands and keep them pinned behind your back.
In this new position Angel was able to thrust up into you at a faster pace and keep you at his mercy as he watched his cock slide in and out of you. The sight of your body swallowing him up never ceased to thrill him and had him pumping his release into you quicker than he had intended. Eyes rolling back in your head you came again as he slammed into you one more time before he let go off your arms and pulled you back down to lay on his chest. "You're back on the nice list" you murmured sleepily after a couple minutes as he rubbed your back. Angel simply smiled and kissed your forehead.
Tag List: @darqchilddaydreamz
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drabbles-mc · 1 year
Text
Be Here
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Can be read as a standalone orrrr if you're feeling extra angsty can be read as a sequel to Begging You
Warnings: 18+, major character death, language, hospitals, mentions of blood/injuries, angst
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Idk what was up with my brain today but I literally sat down and wrote this on my lunch break at work. It's...it's something. Anyway! Have some sadness!
Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @anditsmywholeheart @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @passionatewrites @artemiseamoon @justazzi @darklydeliciousdesires (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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Even on the chaotic drive to the hospital, you hadn’t fully passed out. Things got dangerously fuzzy a few times, but you had managed to hold into a few tethers of consciousness. Very little of that had to do with actual willpower on your part, and much more to do with Angel’s determination to keep you awake.
You didn’t really remember getting to the hospital. You sort of remembered being in the van, then everything went a bit blurry for a while there, and then you were suddenly in an obnoxiously bright hospital room. The incessant beeping of machines was drowned out only by the sound of Angel angrily explaining to his MC brothers what had happened. You didn’t listen too closely to that. You knew what happened—you were there.
Your eyes were glued to the ceiling tiles above you, feeling like any movement at all would take too much effort. They had you on and off all sorts of IV’s in the short time you’d been there. None of that was reassuring. You were with it just enough to know that things didn’t seem to be looking good.
In almost perfect contrast to Angel’s yelling, you heard EZ’s voice. Calm, collected, like always. “We will handle this, but you need to stay here.”
“Fuck that,” Angel spat. “If you think I’m just gonna fuckin’—”
“Quiet down,” EZ scolded him like a parent to a child.
Angel toned his voice down a little, but not much. It was like he was physically incapable of it. “You guys can’t just—”
“Angel?” You were the one who interrupted him this time. Your voice was weak, raspy. It was a wonder either of them had even heard it over all of the machines and their own voices.
Angel was by your side in a flash. You felt the slight shift of the hospital bed as he leaned against it. He braced against the handle frame, positioning himself so he could look directly at you, and you at him without trying to turn your head too much.
“Hey,” he forced out, choked up and tears in his eyes. The brief pause in his anger allowing his sadness to take over.
“Don’t leave,” you pled.
His frown deepened, conflict flashing across his eyes as he gazed down at you. “Querida, I can’t…we gotta…” He couldn’t put the sentence together. Taking a deep breath, he gently stroked his thumb along your cheek, paying no mind to the dried grime and blood there. “They gotta pay for this.”
You tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t quite manage it. “Later.”
The anger was starting to resurface. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw. “But…”
With all the strength you could muster, you moved your hand so that it was resting on his arm. “I don’t need you to be angry, baby,” you told him, tears in your eyes now too. “I need you to be here.” You coughed, which made your whole body hurt. “Can you be here?”
As his eyes stayed locked onto yours, Angel came to the realization that he didn’t know how to do that. When things went south, he was always somewhere else, doing something else. He knew how to go out there and get revenge, how to do something, get some kind of tangible result. What he didn’t know, though, was how to stay at your bedside and do nothing but wait.
You could see it, too. You tried to give his arm a squeeze and it sort of worked. “Please.”
“Angel,” EZ spoke up. You’d forgotten that he was even in the room. “Stay. We’ll handle it.”
He knew he wasn’t going to win against both of you. he didn’t take his eyes off of you as he sniffled, nodding as he said, “I’ll stay. I’m…I’m here.”
You managed a smile, a weak one, but still. “Thank you.”
For a few seconds, the only noise in the room was coming from the machines beside your bed. Then it was the sound of the door shutting behind EZ as he left. Once it was just the two of you, you saw Angel’s resolve start to deteriorate.
Leaning down, he rested his forehead against yours, gently but firmly cupping the side of your face. You felt the way that he trembled as he tried to take deep breaths. “Fuck, I’m so—” he choked back a sob, “I’m so sorry.”
Your hand was shaking as you rested it over his. “I’m not.”
He shut his eyes tight as he shook his head. “When this is over…” his voice trailed off, not sure how to end that sentence. He didn’t know what “over” looked like. He didn’t want to admit that to you, didn’t want to think about the worst outcome, the most probably outcome.
“Come here.” You didn’t have the strength to try and pull him into the bed with you. Luckily, he took the cue. He carefully shifted you over just enough for him to be able to shimmy into the bed alongside you.
He draped his arm on the pillow just above your head, giving the illusion of holding you without disturbing you. It felt like any move might be the thing that broke you for good.
The heat radiating off his body felt like heaven. You wished that you could curl into him. “Are you angry?” you asked.
“No,” he said softly as he kissed the side of your head.
You knew he was lying, but it sounded nice. Given the state of things, a few small lies to make you feel better was something you could live with.
“I told you,” he said as he traced his fingers along the edge of your forehead, “I’m here.”
“You’ll stay until it’s over?” you asked quietly, fighting the urge to let your eyes close.
He’d been the one who was so adamant about you keeping your eyes open. Now, though, for the briefest moment, he almost wished you’d close them so you wouldn’t see him break down. He clenched his fist on top of the pillow, white-knuckled where you couldn’t see it. Resting his forehead against the side of your head, you felt the way he brushed his nose against you as he fought to keep the one last shred of composure that he still had.
“Yea, baby,” he finally said, “until it’s over.”
“You love me?” you asked.
Angel didn’t know how, despite the pain and the exhaustion, you still managed to sound so peaceful, almost positive. He kissed you on the cheek. “Always.”
You laced your fingers with his, feeling the smooth metal of his rings. “I’m glad you’re here.”
A sob broke through, and you could feel his tears land against your skin. He squeezed your hand, almost tight enough to make it hurt but you didn’t care. It didn’t hurt any worse than the rest of it.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
A few minutes went by with neither of you saying anything. The slowing beeps of the monitor next to your bed cut the silence. You could hear footsteps in the hall, running feet racing towards people in as bad of shape as you, people they might still be able to help.
Angel’s breathing had evened out even though his tears hadn’t stopped. He pulled his head back to look at you and saw that your eyes were closed. He cupped your cheek, thumb tracing along the bruised skin there.
“You still with me?”
You gave a weak smile, opening your eyes up a tiny bit. “I’m with you.” You pushed, trying to clear your throat before asking, “You still with me?”
He chuckled through the tears. “Yea, I’m with you.”
“You think they’ll bring me another blanket?” you asked softly.
Angel’s heart sank. “I got it.”
He carefully got out of the bed and went to the closet that was on the opposite side of the room. He rummaged for a minute before finding the blanket, but as soon as he did he shot right back over to you and set about tucking you in.
“Better?”
You nodded. “Thank you.”
He managed to get right back in beside you, laying even closer now if that was possible. “Whatever you need.”
You both fell quiet after that. Angel wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off of you even if his life depended on it. He lightly traced patterns along your arm and the back of your hand. He tried to take comfort in the small smile it put on your face. He didn’t say it out loud, but he noticed the way your breathing continued to change.
“Angel?”
He frowned at the way your eyes were still closed. “Yea, baby?”
“Do you think,” you managed to turn just enough for your arm to drape across his chest, “it’s okay for me to sleep now?”
His bottom lip began to quiver as he let out a shaky exhale. He kissed your temple. “I think,” he held you tighter, “I think it’s okay.”
Your body relaxed into his. “I love you.”
He tucked your head under his chin. “I love you too.”
He held you as tightly as he could without hurting you, waiting for the inevitable moment. You seemed almost comfortable, almost peaceful. And then the beeps finally stopped.
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Text
Kinktober Day 14- Love Bites
Angel Reyes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count- 1k
Warnings- smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, established relationship, teasing
Notes- The idea instantly popped into my head with this one and it made me laugh so I ran with it, and it’s a little unexpected from what you may think with this prompt! Enjoy! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen​!
To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​​. Reblogs highly appreciated!
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~
“Oh fuck… Angel… Yes!”
You threw your head back as Angel’s strong grip held onto your hips. You clung to his bare shoulders and dug your nails into his skin as you bounced on his cock hard. Moans filled the room as he filled you over and over again as you rode him in the chair he sat in. 
“Fuck baby,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up and met yours. 
The room was hot and both of you were sweaty from how hard you grinded against each other. Skin slapped against skin as you impaled yourself on Angel over and over again, his cock hitting deeper inside you than you ever thought possible. 
You looked at him with a glazed over expression, and Angel looked back at you with a burning passion. You slowed yourself down as you raked your hands over his shoulders and down his chest. He groaned and his cock twitched inside you when you reached his nipples and gave them a playful flick. A smirk lit up your face as you squeezed his pecs hard and clenched your inner muscles around him at the same time.
Angel hissed your name as he tightened his grip on your hips, “Fuuuuuck.”
He rolled his head back as you worked him subtly but effectively. You rocked your hips against his as you took complete control, something Angel only allowed in certain circumstances. But when he did let go and let you take over, he never regretted it. You let out a short laugh as you squeezed his pecs hard again and savored the utterly erotic sound that escaped his lips.
It was your little secret how much Angel moaned whenever you touched him like that, and you cherished it like it was your most prized possession. 
As more of his neck became exposed the more he rolled back, you eyed the skin there hungrily. You licked your lips as a rush of need went right to your cunt. Before you could stop yourself, you reeled forward and attached your lips to the skin on Angel’s neck and sucked hard. 
He let out a loud groan as you nibbled and licked and sucked right along the taught muscle on the side of his neck. You rocked your hips against his once more as you continued to work at that same spot. Angel let out a string of curses as you bounced on his cock once more. 
“Shit baby… Fuck!” Angel cried out as you rode him harder and harder.
“You like that, Angel?” you purred, “You like it when I ride you hard like this?”
Angel’s breath caught in his throat; he didn’t expect such dirty talk from you, but it turned him on so much, “Fuck yes,” he slid his hands down your hips to grab your ass, “Now let me fuck you now, querida.”
“Ay… Fuck… Angel…” you moaned as you clung to his broad shoulders and leaned against the top of his shoulder.
You held onto him as he pounded into you from below. Every thrust hit that sweet spot inside you, and you knew if he kept this up, you wouldn’t last much longer. You bit down on his shoulder and sucked another mark there as he grunted and groaned.
“Come on, baby,” Angel purred in your ear, “Cum for me.”
You broke away from his shoulder and leaned back as your orgasm crashed into you without much warning. You clung to him as you trembled in his lap and gushed between your bodies. Angel braced himself and kept his thrusts up for as long as he could until he came deep inside you with a low groan of your name.
When you were both spent, you collapsed forward and you rested your head against Angel’s neck one more. His arms wrapped around you as he held you tight against him while you pepped soft kisses all over his skin. With a grin, you couldn’t help but suck another mark into his neck while he held you tight, which caused him to shiver.
As much as he wanted to stay like that all day, he knew he couldn’t, “Baby,” he patted your hips, “I gotta get to the club, we got a meeting tonight.”
You groaned as you squeezed his body tight, “You’re just gonna fuck me like that and then leave?” you teased as you lifted your head up, “Alright, hang on,” you slowly pushed yourself up and Angel’s cock slid out of you.
Both of you hisses, but Angel cupped your face to keep you close, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, baby,” he promised, “And then I’ll fuck you on every surface in my house. Deal?”
You smiled at him as you closed the gap between your faces for a heated kiss, “Deal.”
With a grunt, Angel pushed himself up and went to his bathroom to get dressed as you grabbed your clothes from the floor. As you fixed yourself up, you heard Angel yell your name from the bathroom, “Angel?”
“What the fuck?!” he emerged from the bathroom in just his jeans as he gestured to his neck and shoulder, “What did you do?”
You let out a burst of laughter when you saw the deep red and purple marks all along his skin, and you both knew that he couldn't hide all of him under his clothes, “What’s wrong, Angel?” you plate innocent, “I thought you liked those marks.”
“On you, baby,” he felt a rush of embarrassment, “Shit, I can’t go to the club like this… Those assholes will never let me hear the end of it.”
You bit your lip to hide the smirk on your face, but failed, “Well, they’ll know who you belong to then,” you felt bold with your words.
Angel’s jaw dropped, but he quickly regained his composure and crossed the room to grab hold of your hips. He pulled you flush against this body and hovered his lips against yours, “I’m gonna get you back for this, baby,” his voice was low and sent a rush through your body.
You matched his low tone as you purred in his ear, “Looking forward to it… Baby.”
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narcolini · 1 year
Text
kiss and tell
angel reyes x gn!olvidado reader, 2369 words
for day 25 of whumpril: ‘we’re being watched’
a/n: this is in a world where adelita and angel never had a thing, because why not, AND who doesn’t love a fake date trope! muah (also love u élise, mi jefa)
tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas​
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You shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t be here. Of all your dubious moral mistakes, this might just be the worst one, right? Going behind Adelita’s back, to talk to a Mayan, of all people, who’s working with Galindo? Yeah, you’ve fucked it. You’ve really missed the mark with this one.
He isn’t even a close friend, really. A friend of a friend of a friend. Someone you bickered with in high school, an Angel totally undeserving of the name. Payaso copied your answers in more exams than you can count, and now he’s after them again, begging you for info you know you shouldn’t give. Well, you assume so. The text he’d sent hadn’t been specific, but what else could he want? 
You haven’t spoken to him in years, but, fuck, you’re here, aren’t you? You agreed to his suggestion and let him pick the meeting place. You’re walking toward him now, like you couldn’t be any fucking happier to ruin your shit, any more willing to disrupt what Los Olvidados have been organising for months. God, if anyone knew about this. If Adelita knew about this.
It isn’t worth imagining. Besides, you might not tell him anything at all, right? He might ask you for something you know nothing about. There’s still a chance of that, still time for fate to stand by your side.
Angel’s leaning against the tree closest to the park’s entrance, one tall beanpole in the sea of kids and moms pushing empty prams. He doesn’t blend in by any means. He didn’t even bother to take his kutte off.
‘Hey.’ He nods as you approach, only clocking you once you’re within talking distance anyway.
‘You wanna be any more obvious, man?’ you snap over him, looking past him, then over your shoulder. ‘May as well have brought the rest of your stupid club with you.’
‘Wow, relax.’ He looks like he wants to laugh. ‘Is it that serious? S’not like you got rules against socialising and shit.’
He’s wrong, of course, because that’s exactly what you do have. Especially when it comes to socialising with Galindo affiliated groups. ‘Can we move, please?’ you ask, ignoring the remark. ‘Away from the fucking Mom’s club.’
Then he does laugh, face crumpling like you’re certifiably insane, but he does stand straight from the tree he’s on. ‘You wanna walk?’
‘Sure.’ That’s better than this, at least. You watch him shove his hands into his pocket, before gesturing with his elbow for you to lead the way. Which you do, begrudgingly, traipsing further into the park with him beside you.
‘I can’t talk for long,’ you tell him, flicking him a look. Then it’s back behind you, over your shoulder, and to the right over the grass.
‘Damn,’ he’s watching you scan the surroundings, ‘you’re way less fun than you used to be.’
‘I didn't realise we ever had fun, Angel.’
He scoffs. ‘Really? Thought we were cool.’ He throws you a smile. ‘Homies.’
‘You stuck gum to my backpack and cheated off me relentlessly,’ you answer, not bitter, but bored instead. ‘Might’ve been fun for you, but.’
‘Okay,’ he laughs, ‘so I was a shitty kid. You really gonna hold that against me?’
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ You pass a woman jogging, flashing her a smile just to see if she’ll return it—she does. ‘Would’ve blocked your number if I was holding it against you.’
He sucks a breath in, like he’s scratched his knee or some shit, wincing with it. ‘The fuck are they feeding you at those camps? Los Olvidados got a rule about being friendly now?’
‘Yeah,’ you nod, and you hate that you’re almost laughing with it, ‘that’s actually the whole thing, dumbass. We’re not trying to make friends.’
So why are you here then? Walking through a park, birds chirping like a fucking Disney movie, with Angel of all people. You were supposed to be making this quick. You shove your hands in your pockets like he has, pulling your hoody closed over your torso. No more chitchat.
‘So,’ you say, ‘can we get to the part where you beg me for information?’
You aren’t looking at him still, but flitting around again. There’s a dude on the bench you’re walking by, reading the newspaper. He doesn’t pay any attention to either of you. Doesn’t look up as Angel’s boot throws a stone in his direction.
‘Information? Nah.’ Angel shakes his head, the movement catching in your periphery. ‘You think that’s what I’m here for?’
You shrug. ‘Well, yeah. What else would you want?’
You’re on opposite sides, really. Hired hands or not, the Mayans are working for the man you and the rest of the group have fucked over, multiple times now. All you can offer him is information he shouldn’t have. Not that you will, of course, not that you will. But you at least want to hear what he’s dumb enough to ask for.
He’s slowed to a stop, for some reason. His brows are pinched together as he looks at you. ‘Y’know, I almost feel like saying fuck it and leaving you here.’
You turn, in front of him now, and shrug again. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘I’m here to help your ass not, fucking, beg you for information.’ He looks offended, actually. Genuinely offended. ‘I mean, come on, you really think I’m that stupid?’
Maybe, but you aren’t about to admit that to him. ‘Sorry,’ you stumble, ‘I don’t know. Guess I figured you had some allegiance to the dude paying you.’
He snorts. ‘Yeah, that’s not how this shit works.’
‘Okay,’ you prompt, ‘then what is it? Why am I here?’
For the first time, he chances a look behind like he does actually care, like he’s as nervous about this as you are. Well, almost. ‘Thought you guys might want to know Galindo’s planning to go ahead with another shipment,’ he says.
‘Oh.’ Your brows go up. ‘Damn. Fuck, that’s useful.’
‘Yeah,’ his voice goes thick with sarcasm, ‘I figured.’
Your gaze slips past him, looking for the man with the newspaper again. Only, he’s not there now, and has been replaced by another man, sitting with his arm over the back of the bench. He’s slouching, knees wide. Dressed in nothing but jeans and a garish shirt—which is weird, because it’s a cloudy day. Cold enough that you and Angel are both wearing two layers at least.
‘But why?’ You flick back to Angel. ‘Like, why help us?’
There’s something familiar about the man, about his very fucking familiar face. You can’t shake it. You can’t even focus on what Angel’s given you, the opportunity of another shipment to disrupt.
Angel sighs, oblivious to the mental file-o-fax you’re pawing through. ‘I know you think I’m a dick,’ he says, ‘but I do actually, y’know, care. About this shit.’ He gestures between the two of you. ‘The rebel shit, I’m with it.’ He pauses, you still aren’t paying attention. ‘And I fucking hate Galindo,’ he adds, souring. ‘Uptight fuck.’
You look back to the bench. He’s scanning the park now, in a very non-casual, casual way. Like you were—like you are. He skims past you quickly, pretending he hasn’t just made fleeting eye contact with you, and then it clicks. Finally. Fuck. It’s not just some dude, it’s Tiago, one of the many meatheads in Galindo’s cartel. You’ve seen his face a million times, in black and white, pinned to the boards at camp. You recognise it now, because it’s obvious. Scar through his eyebrow, thick moustache, ugly fucking shirts.
He isn’t relaxing in the park, enjoying the breeze, he’s waiting for you, watching. He’s holding out on you spilling secrets you shouldn’t—or maybe it’s not that at all. Maybe he’s watching Angel instead, keeping track of Galindo’s assets. They’re trying to avoid another incident like the last, looking for the leak in the in the seal, the rat amongst the dogs. And Angel’s clueless to it, standing and waiting for your reply. His face clear as day for Tiago to watch.
‘Kiss me,’ you say, blurting it as quickly as you can.
‘Wha—why?’ Angel frowns, lips pulling down at the corners. ‘Kiss you?’
‘We’re being watched.’ You step forward. ‘Kiss me.’
He’s taking too long to process it. You can feel Tiago staring now, attempting to read your lips. The longer Angel stands there looking lost, the longer Tiago has to profile you, to paint you as a notable figure. To pin blame to the badges on Angel’s kutte.
You pull him in by the back of his neck, before any more damage can be done. Hide his face with your own, make this look like a date, a walk in the park between one Mayan and his crush. He doesn’t kiss you back, of course, it’s stationary lips against stationary lips. Is it convincing? You’ve no idea. You can’t pull back to check yet, not without making it look suspicious and desperately false.
He says your name, or tries to, against your mouth. When you don’t break away to let him say it properly, there’s a moment of pause, just a breath, and then he’s kissing you like he means it. His hands come up to your waist, his lips part. You turn, pulling him with you, until you’re angled away from Tiago, Angel’s back a firm wall in his vision. He’s either cottoned on, at last, and is trying to make this look like a real thing to avoid suspicion, or his testosterone has kicked in and accepted a kiss for a kiss. His body reacting the way it normally would.
For a second you enjoy it. But that’s beside the point.
‘Okay,’ you pull back, hands to his chest, and look over his shoulder, ‘I think that…’
Tiago’s turned away again, scrubbing a hand over his moustache and looking as awkward as anyone would after watching two people kiss.
‘The fuck was that about?’ Angel asks, out of breath but unable to shift the smugness from his face. ‘Who’s watching us?’
‘Fucking Galindo,’ you mutter, ignoring the slight thrum in your chest.
‘He’s here?’ He attempts to look behind, but you catch him before he can, hand to his cheek.
‘Don’t fucking do that.’ You drop it again, fidgeting back behind the shape of him. ‘You can’t look, but it’s Tiago.’
His brows flex together; he’s wondering how you know who he is, how you’re using the guy’s first name like you’re familiar, but now isn’t the time to go into it. Really, you know more about Galindo’s crew than he ever will. There’s no cap on information for you, it’s find out all you can, everything you can. For him, it’s only what Galindo allows them to know. The bare minimum to get them to do what he needs.
‘He probably thinks you’re the rat,’ you say, continuing when he laughs, an I am the rat, expression on his face. ‘It’s better he thinks this is a date. For you, I mean.’
The smirk isn’t shifting. He’s staring down at you like you’ve actually asked him out. ‘So you’re helping me now?’ he says. ‘Saving my ass from Galindo?’
‘Yes,’ you snap, ‘and the desire to keep doing it is running thin.’
‘Alright, God.’ Still smiling. He’s still smiling. ‘Tell me what to do then, Olvidado.’
You have half the mind to leave, abandon him like that kiss was the farewell, and let Tiago track him alone. Follow his stupid bike around town until he finds some other way to incriminate him. But you need him, actually. You genuinely fucking need him and what he has to say. Another shipment would give you another chance to dent Galindo’s organisation, to strip more money, and more power, from him, in the most frustrating way possible. It’s an opportunity too good to miss.
‘You see that café ?’ you ask, knowing it’s in his eye-line, over your head. ‘We’re gonna go there, like we’re on a nice fucking date, and you’re gonna tell me what you came to tell me.’
‘Alright.’
‘So,’ you gesture toward him, ‘make it look like you actually like me, or something.’
He rolls his eyes, head tilting with it, and you almost reach to snap it back down again, but then he gets it together. He takes your hand, the right one, bringing it up as he steps around to lay the same arm over your shoulder. It’s more than he needed to do, putting you by his side, with your joined hands sitting against your collarbone, but you can hardly complain about it now. Tiago could be watching still—you look, eyes over Angel’s forearm—he is still watching. Leaning forward on his knees now, like he’s deciding whether to follow or not.
‘You’re gonna have to be careful,’ you say, facing front again. ‘They clearly suspect you.’
He shakes his head. ‘Flaco’s paranoid, probably thinks all of us are out here spilling his secrets.’
‘Fine, be like that. But it’ll get you fucking killed, Angel.’
‘Says the rebel trying to take him down.’
He has you there, but the difference is Galindo, Tiago, doesn’t know you yet. Doesn’t even realise that you’re anyone worth knowing. Thankfully, hopefully, your quick thinking has planted ‘love interest’ across your face, and ‘dead end’ over Angel’s. There’s nothing innately suspicious about two people going for coffee, no matter how Tiago swings it.
‘Let’s just get this over with,’ you tell him, increasing your speed and pulling Angel along with you. ‘Before one of us ends up in the gutter.’
Angel laughs, nodding.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ he shrugs over you, ‘just that this is the weirdest fucking date of my life.’
‘It’s not a date.’
‘Fake date,’ he corrects. ‘Weirdest fake date of my life.’
‘And last one, too,’ you add, because if he ever texts you to meet up again, you’ll be leaving him on read. Information or not, it isn’t worth the hassle, he isn’t worth the hassle. You’d rather struggle to gather information for yourself, than go down with the Angel Reyes, traitor to Galindo, disaster of a ship.
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Note
Hello lovely! Surprise, surprise, I have a request 😄
If you would be so kind as to indulge me with prompt number one for Angel please 🙏🌻
Thank you! 😘
I would be more than happy to, darling!
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"Woman! Why'd you always hide my stuff? Where's my wallet?"
Your casual response comes from behind the magazine you're reading. "Coffee table."
"Clean boxers?"
Oh, you hadn't noticed he was nude, lowering the corner of your magazine for a little visual feast. Who'd blame you? "Washing basket in the kitchen."
"Making me late with your fucking neatness!"
"But I always know where everything is, honey." Your sweet chirp is met with more muttering, Angel's boom almost deafening when he strides through, tight, grey boxers now covering two of your favourite parts of him. Yup. You love those buns. And the dick on him? Exquisite.
"Jeans! Where did you put my damned jeans!"
"You threw them behind the couch in a drunken fit of passion, proclaiming you never wanted to wear them again!" He'd been... frisky upon his arrival home the previous night, as he always was when he'd been out drinking.
"Could have fetched them out for me, goddamned chicks, man. Can't just help a fella out."
"Angel?"
He turns to you, pulling himself back into the black denim he swore the abandonment of forever just ten hours before. "What?"
You put your magazine down, reaching for him, trying to plant a kiss on his lips, his mild fury turning to comedy as he lifts his head out of your reach. Damn him for being such a giant. "Nope, mamas. Ain't getting no sugar!"
“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”
He does. Finally.
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