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periprose · 1 year

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Florence - Chapter Five

At the dinner party later that evening, Harry makes an interesting job offer that you can't quite refuse, and you and Peter drunkenly deduce what's happened with the New York Fashion Week show and the models that have been antagonizing MJ, while also coming far too close for it to be an accident.

Fluff, further confessions of feelings, plot threads that probably won't be solved until I make a sequel to this fic, lustful moments (grinding)

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The dinner party is kind of wild.

There are hired semi-nude dancers, all glittery and gold, dancing on a small stage set in front of the backyard garden, and there are several chefs preparing every food you could possibly think of- pasta served in your own personal cheese wheel, little hors d'oeuvres, kebabs, sushi, some sort of glass noodle concoction that looks more like clear wires than something you’re supposed to eat- and throughout it all, Harry keeps giving everyone more drinks.

He’s still kind of cold towards Peter- you can tell since he greets you and gives Peter a firm nod instead- and he clearly likes your outfit. A sweetheart neckline, halter-top jumpsuit in a deep teal, that’s backless and has floral detailing and flared pants.

“Nice jumpsuit, Howlett.” He yells over the din of the music of the band in the background, and you nod, feeling kind of hot with all the people around. “Here’s a whiskey sour, just how you like it.”

“Thanks. How are you?” You yell back, taking the drink, and Harry seems ambivalent until Peter strolls away, admiring the scenery.

“Better. Still a little wary of how things are going.” Harry looks towards Peter and then back at you. “Sorry you had to get caught up in that- uh, argument- earlier, Lettie.”

“If it makes you feel better, it made me and Peter closer?” You watch Harry snort at that and then grin. “No, I know. Not the point. Just… talk to him when you have time, okay?”

“If he actually wants to talk, then sure.” Harry shrugs, and you wonder what that means, if Peter was the type to ghost him as well. You suppose you have that in common. “Have you changed your mind about the job?”

“Huh?” You think for a moment and then remember Harry’s offer about Oscorp’s position. “Oh god, Harry. I don’t know if I can stomach it.”

“C’mon… you said my dad has a certain reputation.” Harry whispers. “I think if anyone can come up against him, it would be you.”

“But…” You think over Harry’s words, and how they contrast to what he said before. “Come up against him? Like, what, running a coup?”

“Maybe.” Harry is mysteriously ambiguous about the whole thing. “Look, Howlett, I’m only telling you this because I trust you. Dad’s not doing so well anymore, and I know for a fact that he would like you.”

“And I would antagonize him, why?”

“Dad’s kind of an asshole. I want to see him have to think a little- I was thinking about what you were saying before- and I want him to actually be there for the little guy. Do more than be a selfish, opportunistic bastard, before he dies. If he likes you, he’ll listen.” Harry scoffs at that. “I know it’s a lot to ask for, especially because you probably don’t want to risk your career- so I could pull a few strings and give you a job somewhere else if it’s not going well at Oscorp, and you’ll still get to put it on your resume.”

Harry is right. It’s a lot to ask for, and your mind kind of runs over everything he’s saying. A big part of you is rather compelled- you do kind of want to know what it’s like to be a vigilante coder, and you have always, always wanted to make the world a slightly better place than it is- and the other part of you is overwhelmed.

"Alright, Harry. I’m gonna take a couple days to think it over- and I think I’ll just sit down for a bit.” You wave at him and make your way towards a chaise lounge in the path, and sit down, but as you do, two other people sit next to you.

“You must be Howlett.” A tall Asian woman with sharp eyeliner, extending into a long wing that is far more avant-garde than normal, shakes your hand. “Love how you go by one name, too. I’m Elektra.”

You realize with a bit of lag that this was one of the people MJ told you she was suspicious of. Elektra, Wanda, and Bucky. The last guy doesn’t seem to be anywhere in your sight.

You take a large gulp of your drink for some courage. You nearly cough it back up- Harry has definitely put the strongest whiskey possible in your cup.

“Hi. It’s great to meet you!” You start, and she gives you a smile that doesn’t seem to reach her eyes- you feel unnerved by that, and you can’t really read her. “MJ always said you were gorgeous- she didn’t lie.”

“Did she ever say anything about me?” The other woman huffs. She’s got a vaguely Eastern-European accent that you cannot pin down. “I’m Wanda, by the way.”

Her hair is a dark brown, but other than that- she and Elektra are dressed in matching crimson latex suits, although their cuts are different and well suited to their bodies. They seem to really be on the same wave length.

“Um. I think so?” You shake your head, unsure of how to respond. “She’s always very complementary towards everyone.”

“Even those two idiots over there?” Elektra points to the redhead woman with a bob cut, and another woman with a high ponytail- they’re currently dancing with each other. “Ah, of course MJ likes them. They’re all Dior anyways.”

You don’t know enough about fashion houses to clarify anything so you just stay silent, continuing to sip at your drink. You finally notice that Peter is off to the side, being held hostage by a dark, brunette, scowling man, who’s got a bit of beard and steely blue eyes that easily intimidate him, and you wonder which one of these three is the culprit.

Wanda gives Elektra a stern look. “They’re really not that bad if you get to know them, Elektra. It’s not their fault you always keep to yourself- and Barnes.”

She stands up dramatically as Elektra sputters in place, and because you seem to be the only sympathetic person there, she confides in you.

“Wanda has always been soft. She doesn’t get that me and Barnes- you have to do what you have to do to get ahead, right?” Elektra takes a gulp of her champagne, and you seriously wonder if she’s basically just implicated herself.

She wanders off to dance with a glittery gold woman- you realize with some mild surprise that it’s all body paint, so the dancer is completely naked, and you wonder if all of them are- and Peter and Bucky come your way. Peter has a strained smile- he does not like this guy.

“Howlett. Hey.” Peter sits next to you, but so does Bucky, and you move closer to Peter because apparently Bucky Barnes has no sense of personal space. His hand is skirting where your thigh and hip is, and based on Peter’s grim expression, he hates it. You’re only allowing it because he seems drunk, and you do not want a fight to break out if you tell him no.

“Bucky here was just telling me about the world of modelling.” Peter clarifies, and that’s all it takes for Bucky to start ranting in great detail about how his stupid fucking assistant forgot his custom made hair mousse and how his hair looked flat and not shiny enough during his latest show.

“That sounds horrible.” Peter remarks, half-mockingly, and he takes a sip of his cocktail. Apparently his fifth one of the night, if you’re keeping track of all the different glasses and colors of the drinks that Peter has been holding throughout the last hour. He must be trying to get wasted.

“Yeah, it really, really was. You can’t buy good help these days.” Bucky affirms with not a hint of irony, and the fact that he doesn’t know that you and Peter are in an entirely different tax bracket doesn’t escape you. You literally know people who work for the one percent, CEOs like Norman Osborn, and the poors like you get tossed aside as soon as you’re deemed disposable.

It just reaffirms that you do want to listen to Harry- you could do great things at Oscorp.

Bucky Barnes is abhorrent and you want out of here. You don’t know how MJ puts up with him- but you remember she said she’s only really close with Natalia and Kitty Pryde, so perhaps inviting this guy was just for her networking optics.

“God, you’re pretty.” Bucky suddenly claims as he turns towards you, getting progressively drunker and obviously not filtering his thoughts, and you can tell this must be a line that he uses on many, many women, just based on the confidence that’s oozing out of him. “If there was a spot available on the Dior lineup, I’d put you on there for sure- well actually, there might be, if you prove you can model. Whaddya say? Wanna head back up to mine?”

You feel Peter’s fist clench and you firmly grasp his wrist before he can stand up and do something stupid, along the lines of the fight at the New York Airport, and Peter’s fist loosens, before he grabs your hand, holding it tightly. Maybe a little possessively.

You ignore thoughts about that being hot.

“I’m not really interested in being a model right now, but do you have an email or something I could contact if I ever get the urge?” You sweetly tell Bucky, in your most sincere, professional, networking tone, and he seems a little thrown off by that since he was flirting so heavily. He takes a look at you and Peter’s intertwined hands, and how Peter is peering at him from just beyond the glass he keeps sipping, and seems to put something together.

“Uh, yeah. Here-” Bucky reaches for a pen inside his blazer’s pocket and signs your wrist with his email address in a tender motion that you did not ask for. Bucky whispers something into your ear that try as Peter might, sounds entirely unintelligible to him.

“Hey, doll. I know the drill- I’ll be waiting in my room, just come up when you’re free of the ball and chain.” His mouth is practically on your ear as he says this, and your face is burning with a mix of confusion, drunkenness, and annoyance that Peter could ever be a ball and chain.

Finally, Bucky leaves, and you immediately pull Peter closer to you even though he’s right next to you. Things are kind of hazy in your mind right now, but something has clearly been illuminated for you.

“What a fucking pervert that guy was, right?” Peter scoffs, and you giggle. “Who the hell asks a girl to fuck like seconds after meeting? I guess models, but still: ew.”

“Jealous, Peter Parker?” You lean in kind of close, and Peter doesn’t pull away- he likes that your face is practically brushing his own. “I was worried you were going to beat him up, too.”

“As if. He’s still going to be at the wedding.” Peter shrugs, tipping his glass back and finishing off his drink.

“And that’s the only reason you stopped yourself?” You look at him. “Too bad. I wanted to see some wedding drama.”

“Hey. You know the precedent I set before, Howlett. I’d totally be all dramatic and soap opera-y for you.” Peter grins boyishly, and you feel your heart warm at that. “I just figure after the TSA dude and Harry, it’s probably best to just… think first. Act later. Don’t want to start a bad trend if I’m serious about you. Plus you can handle yourself, it’s just my dumb feelings.”

“Wow. I never thought I’d see the day that you’d become mature.” You cross your arms, and Peter lightly punches your side. “Okay, I’m sorry! But you’re right. This whole wedding has too much going on, even without fights. On the bright side, I figured something out.”

Peter is staring up at the night sky, and you shake him by the collar. “Hello? Peter?”

“H-Huh?” He’s kind of lost in this fire that’s in your eyes now. He likes it, to the point where he’s not sure what you’re talking about. When did he get so drunk? His mind isn’t really latching onto anything but your face.

“Okay. I’ll explain upstairs because people could be listening here-” You look from side-to-side and Peter’s only following your gaze because you just seem so striking at this moment. “And because I think something about outside is distracting you.”

“Not true, Howlett. Something right in front of me is distracting.” Peter immediately shoots back at you, and you blink before smiling up at him, shoving his chest lightly. Very gently. Somehow it only brings him closer as he resists your pushing, as if Peter is some kind of immovable object that cannot stay away.

Peter stares at your bare back as you lead him away, into the Villa, upstairs to his bedroom, and he can’t control his indecent thoughts this time.

“Okay- are you listening, Peter?” You start, and he nods, wiggling into the massive pillows that adorn his bed. He turns dramatically and fixes his gaze on you, and your face turns mildly red- you type on the robust laptop that Peter obviously brought for work, still feeling his stare. “Here. We can start tracing back who sent the email that removed MJ from New York Fashion Week- she sent me the original that has an ‘anonymous’ signature.”

“Wait, wait.” Peter suddenly shakes himself a little out of it, feeling considerably less wasted as he focuses on this. “How do you know that it’s Buckboy’s email, for sure?”

“I have an educated guess.” You snort at his portmanteau of fuckboy and Bucky. “Elektra said something about Wanda not understanding how to get ahead, but that Bucky did, and Bucky said that there’s a spot opening up on the Dior model lineup, which is enough evidence for him, right?”

“Oh, and that’s why you got his email.” Peter realizes. “Damn, I’m slow on the uptake. But nice one, Howlett.”

“It’s okay. Drinking and detective work don’t really go hand-in-hand- I’m surprised I figured out this much.” You type in Bucky’s email address: [email protected]. “What are the chances he has some separate hooking-up email address and a professional one?”

“It’s 2023, Howlett. People don’t use email to hook up.” Peter snorts. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“I guess this makes it clear that I don’t do hook ups.” You sniff, and Peter immediately takes on a mischievous smile.

“I can change that-” He starts but you immediately smother his face into the pillow. “I’m kidding! Of course an idiot like that would use the same email for everything.”

The software you’re using to trace back the IP address of the initial email is going to take a while. Dior forwarded it from an anonymous source to MJ, and she then forwarded it to you, which means there are like three or four layers of data to scan through and peel back.

“We got time to kill. What’s up?” You ask, and Peter frowns.

“Don’t you think it’s sad that MJ has to be buddy-buddy with people like this?” He sounds deep in thought.

“MJ also likes Natalia Romanov and Kitty Pryde… and that Wanda chick doesn’t seem in on this, so maybe it’s not so bad.” You try, and Peter nods. “We all have to deal with people we don’t like.”

“I guess that’s true. But still- sometimes I wish it was as simple as it was back in high school. When it was the four of us. I never realized there would be a time when it wasn’t like that anymore, and now I feel bad that I didn’t treasure it enough.” Peter sounds wistful as he stares up at the deep yellow canopy over your bed. “Isn’t it crazy how everyone’s lives are changing? Big milestones are happening. Gwen and Miles, MJ and Harry, first weddings, then probably career stuff, then houses and babies… I wish I hadn’t been so stupid back then.”

“Huh?” You interrupt Peter’s drunken rambles about the stages of life. “What do you mean?”

“I should’ve just bit the bullet and just asked you out. As soon as I had an inkling of a feeling for you.” Peter sounds genuinely distraught now, while you wonder when it all started for him. “I mean, I always thought- you’re my best friend, so it would be wrong- but I really, really think I was repressing my feelings because it feels way clearer in hindsight, y’know? Like I was just too scared. But if I had just figured it out back then, I would’ve had you at my side sooner. Imagine being as stupid as me and spending the last ten years completely oblivious to your own feelings, Howlett.”

“Peter-”

“And another thing!” He gets a sudden burst of energy and sits up next to you, stumbling a little. “I spent all of college missing you. It was bad, Howlett, I don’t think I even properly had a girlfriend. But I didn’t- I couldn’t figure out how to bridge that gap between us when you were drifting away already and it seemed like you didn’t want to be friends anymore, and I pretty much thought that I only missed you as a friend because I wasn’t around you, so I couldn’t figure out that I love you, and holy hell I need you to promise that you won’t leave me.”

“I won’t.” You can’t look at him, because you know that Peter has just laid his bare heart out to you, and he’s said that he loves you, but it’s too much for your little drunk mind to understand. The best you can do is say that you’ll never leave him.

“Good.” Peter breathes a sigh of relief. He seems to have no qualms about telling the truth like this, even though it’s really all that drunken courage racing around in his bloodstream. “I wish I had said something back then so we would just be together now.”

“Who says we aren’t?” You kid, pointing out the lack of distance between you two.

“No, not just next to each other like this, like- together together. Like instead of MJ and Harry’s wedding, it would be ours.” Peter falls silent after that, and you take it in, wondering what it would actually be like to be Peter Parker’s wife.

You know how it would go already. Because you spent a good portion of high school fantasizing about this. Peter and you would probably have a flexible cycle of work being freelance and all, and he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you, and you know he would probably be the type to meal prep a ton and be really type A about what you feed your kids, who would be named Logan JR. and Mayday. Probably.

You bite back a laugh. “Aw, Peter. It’s okay. Things turn out how they’re supposed to, right? Think about how much we’ll have to look forward to. When we’re not drunk and back home.”

Peter likes the sound of that, and he cutely leans his face into the crook of your neck, his giant mass of hair brushing your cheek and jaw.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Or that I made you suffer.” Peter whispers, and you’re really only focusing on how his lips are brushing against the tender skin around your collarbone.

“Yes, Peter, you were the bane of my existence.” You say drily, ignoring the flush of heat spreading from your neck through your body, and Peter’s laptop suddenly pings back some results. “But it’s okay. I’m cool with it now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it built character for me.”

“Okay. Okay. Cool.” Peter looks up, leaning his head against your shoulder, and his arm snakes around your waist.

“Okay… the IP address isn’t encrypted anymore, and… the email is Bucky’s.” You look at Peter in mild surprise. “Why do you think he got MJ booted off the show?”

“Obviously so he could be in it instead, right?” Peter thinks it over for a moment. “No, that doesn’t make sense- why would a male model fill in for MJ?”

“You’re right, that doesn’t make sense.” You bite your lip, and click an attached file on the original email, trying to find out more. “Wait, remember how the email said that MJ was fraudulently using model-in-training funds?”

“Yeah. Definitely not true.” Peter shakes his head. “MJ never even brought up Harry in any of her recorded interviews, her auditions, or any of her actual files when I looked, so there’s nothing fraudulent about it.”

“Oh my god, Peter- look at this.” You turn the laptop screen closer to him. “This is clearly an edited, drawn over PDF file- the numbers don’t actually match the line of the rest of the words. This can’t be MJ’s balance sheet, can it?”

“Only one way to find out.” Peter takes the laptop from you, and with a bit of tech wizardry- he believes he’s undid the edits. “Ahhhh, Howlett. You little genius. No wonder MJ didn’t pick up on this- the fake numbers on that sheet must’ve matched her bank account.”

When you search for the original bank account number, just using your own bank app to make a fake e-transfer, the name attached to it is Elektra’s.

“Wait, so Elektra was the one who was using Dior’s funds?” You look at Peter, totally confused, and it suddenly seems to dawn on him.

“Ye-e-es…Elektra is that tall Asian chick, right?” Peter scratches his face, and pulls up a video of one of MJ’s early model-in-training videos. “That’s her? Behind MJ?”

“Yup.” You nod. “I guess she and Bucky were working together on this… or maybe she was the mastermind who wanted to take MJ’s spot.”

“Well, she’s not in any of the later videos…” Peter examines the unedited PDF again, and makes a guess. “Is it a stretch to say she was using Dior’s funds and got kicked out for fraud? Hopefully unceremoniously? Probably trying to frame MJ?”

“I would assume that’s the case.” You agree. “But this doesn’t make sense, Peter. Why would Dior believe her?”

There’s a beat of silence, as you peer at the screen, and suddenly you come to an understanding.

“Oh my god. Peter!” You leap onto his lap, too elated and not sober enough to stop yourself, and he immediately catches you, his hands wrapping around your waist to steady you as you eagerly wrap your arms around his neck. He adores the sensation of the bare skin of your back against his palms, but you don’t seem to notice his touch. “Don’t you get it, dummy? None of this is real!”

Peter takes a second, because he’s hyper focused on your presence on his lap, and he’s still just drunk enough to not be able to stop pulling you close, even if you’re looking at him insistently to understand the situation.

Peter is still pretty smart, though, and he figures it out.

“Oh. This isn’t really Dior’s email at all.” He genuinely looks shocked as he reads the email address over your shoulder- [email protected]. It’s definitely not official, but he can’t blame MJ for not checking the email address when she’s been so busy with the wedding. It’s clearly the fault of those two master manipulators who hardly deserve to be at this event.

“A dummy account- probably to make it seem official? So MJ’s… still in the show.”

As Peter revels in this knowledge, you nod, coming even closer to him as you want to explain more and more, and he can’t stop you. “I’m going to say Bucky had something to do with Elektra’s connections in the industry because apparently he’s been there a lot longer, so they just took their story and made it seem plausible that MJ had done the same thing, maybe they thought she just wouldn’t fight it?-”

You suddenly shudder to a stop, because Peter’s hands are roaming, and he’s snickering at your reaction. “What’s wrong, Howlett?”

“I- Uh-” You feel Peter’s forehead brush your own, and his mouth is hovering over yours. Hot breath is making it difficult to not just lean in and kiss him, and you’re not sure how long you stay like this, with your eyes closed, half drunk on alcohol and emotions, your nose brushing his. You feel something hard between Peter’s legs, and he lazily- but with some aggression- splits your thighs more open so you’re right on top of it. He groans in satisfaction, and you so want to do this, you just don’t want it to be during this drunken time where you can’t remember it later and when you have extremely vital information to share to MJ that could really make or break her life, depending.

“We should tell MJ. C’mon, let’s go back outside.” You pull away from him, regrettably, and get off his lap.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Okay, tease. We’re gonna have to wait for the flag to go down from full mast.”

You bury your face in your hands and Peter laughs, and then kisses your cheek.

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cevans-seb · 2 years

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Runaway Groom

A/N: This is an angsty piece because yes. Bucky is horrible in this and reader and a mess, but Steve is the ultimate package.

I don’t think there’s any warning but slight smut and brief angst.

Reblogs are appreciated and comment what you think about Runaway Groom😭

:readmore:

“___, it’s been an hour. Are you ready to head back to my place?” Your maid of honor sat beside you on the cooling tile floor. Y/F/N was there to catch you when your bridesmaids informed you of James' departure.

“Why did he do this, Y/F/N? He waited until our wedding day to break up with me, and he didn’t tell me! He’s a coward!” You sniffled. “So many people saw me get stood up at my wedding.” Your wails were cut short by someone knocking over your clothes rack. It was Steve, James’ best man. Steve was remorseful, guarding you against the guest's impending questions about Bucky.

“Ah, sorry,” he tensed.

“It’s okay.” you drawled out. “Everyone left yet? Is this miserable day finally over?”

Steve sighed as he bent down beside you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You felt him tighten his grip once you started sobbing. James was supposed to be it for you. A year's worth of planning seems meaningless as he shamelessly ran with Sara. The only reminiscence of James was his corsage. It was a beautiful turquoise that complimented him well against his navy suit. If only you could see his eyes while you sashayed down the aisle, with your father, on your arm, giving you away to your soon-to-have-been husband. “I believe it’s time I dry my eyes and leave with my head held high.” you sarcastically state. You walked past a full-length mirror, noticing how puffy and blotchy your face was as you tilted your head. You can also see your perfected bun loosened with straggly pieces framing your face. “And don’t I look stunning right now! The happiest day of my life.”

“y/n,”

“What, just trying to be positive about this whole situation! James is a fucking piece of shit who left me, and now I have to save face. I don’t want anyone’s pity on me, and it is what I’ll receive if I go out there like this. I hate Bucky! I hate him!” your facade broke. You were broken. As if James took your body, flung it in the air, and let you crash into the ground. Heart bleeding out in front of you as you remember all those moments Bucky wanted to have with you. “Why does he get a ‘happy ever after’ and I’m left picking up the pieces he shattered? It isn’t fair!” Steve's eyes softened when he saw tears pooling in your eyes again. “ I’m tired of crying!”

You succumb to your everlasting sorrow and slouch near a wall, sinking in the fact that it’s over. No resolution. No closure. No happy ending. It’s just a pile of endless miseries that play in your head like a cruel tragedy.

“C’mon y/n, let me take you home,” Steve suggests, tears pricking his eyes.

_____

“You’re not getting another drink, Y/n!” Steve bellowed.

You’re currently on your 5th shot of cherry vodka. It does little to soothe your sorrows. As concentrated as it was, your primary focal point was the pity stares the guest gave. You wanted to drink. Wash away all of today’s events.

“Leave me alone!” you slurred. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” You hiccuped as Steve rushed to your side before you could order another drink. He tossed you over his broad shoulder, tipping the bartender on his way out.

You were too intoxicated to fight him, and his brute behavior-sloshing around on his shoulder like an amusement park ride seemed to become the highlight of your day. How did you convince Steve Rogers to take you to a bar? You have no idea, but it was worth it. Seeing him monitor you, protecting you from watchful eyes, and seething whenever a man came too close made your panties drench a little. Steve was an attractive man. If James didn’t pique your interest by being charismatic, Steve would've been in your bed. His bulging bicep clenched with each step he took, grunting when he carried you to his car.

“I’m never letting you talk me into bar hopping again,” he grumbles. “I told you to stop after the third shot!”

“What’s the fun in staying at one bar?” You questioned incoherently. “You weren’t complaining when I gave you that lap dance. I felt you brick up, Captain,” You squirmed in his tightening grip as you both made it to his car. “Shut up,” he finalized.

Finally settled in, you flickered Steve’s lighter, watching as the ember flame swayed rapidly. “Are you gonna play with it or light my cig for me?” Steve mumbled because of the cig carelessly between his lips. “You know smoking is disgusting.” You lit his cigarette, frowning after tobacco escaped from his mouth. “I don’t see why you like it so much.”

“After dealing with you, I need to smoke the whole carton.” He teased me.

You flipped him off while he chuckled. The drive back to your place fell silent as he puffed out smoke. Glancing at Steve, you see his profile that showcases his chiseled jawline and pointy nose. You wondered how it would feel to have your clit pressed against the tip. Would he like the idea of being suffocated by your thighs or would you tease yourself by holding your hips in place while he gave you a harsh tongue lashing?

Steve's hand wrapped around your thigh, instinctively massaging it. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the sexual tension that had been brewing since you met, but you couldn’t help but give him a soft peck on his cheek. He tenses slightly but soon relaxes. “I’m so sorry.” You rushed out, feeling your face heat from embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. We just drank a few and I don’t know, maybe I wanted to do that for a long time. Again I’m so sorry.” You rambled on while Steve softly chucked.

“___, it’s okay. It was just a kiss on the cheek.” He reassured me. “But I won’t be able to defend this.” With that, he brings you an intense kiss that almost makes you forget Bucky existed. It was more intoxicating than anything else you drank tonight. His hand stayed firmly on your thigh as you cupped his face, deepening the kiss. Steve slid his hand underneath your shirt. You groaned in his mouth when he pinched your hardening nipple. In an instant, you were straddling Steve’s lap, gasping when you felt his cock pressed against your clothed pussy. He felt so much bigger than anticipated like you knew he was about wreck your life if you let him fuck you how you wanted. Rough. Wrists bounded by his callous hand as he plowed you into your mattress.

“Fuck, you’re getting so wet.” Steve whispered, harshly digging his nails on your wasting, grinding against you.

You made quick work removing his suit shirt, nibbling on his newly exposed skin. His scent was just as addictive as his cologne filled your nostrils, but it was his neck that had your full attention. He would grunt when you sucked on a particular point on his neck. Steve would tighten his grip on your waist while he made his own marks on your collarbone.

You both were so caught up with each other that you failed to notice Bucky standing outside in the pouring rain with your favorite flowers in his hands.

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black women #chris evans imagine #chris evans x woc!reader

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starlitangels · 2 years

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Not Again

@romirola whispered “Milo hurt/comfort fic?” in my ear like a biblical temptation and I was simply incapable of resisting. 1.4k words

—

“Hey baby! I’m...” I trailed off as my instincts twinged. “... home...”

Milo was slumped, half-conscious, on the couch. Several open wounds were seeping into the upholstery.

“Oh my God—Milo!” I exclaimed, rushing over, dropping my work backpack, and grabbing at him. “Oh God. Not again. Milo? Milo, baby, c’mon, look at me!” I tried to straighten his lolling head but it was too heavy for his neck. His eyes were cloudy and half-lidded and looked through me, rather than at me.

“Swee... ha...?”

“Yeah. Yeah, baby. It’s me.” I pushed his hair out of his face—trying to ignore where it was matted with blood. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“Mmm... here,” he mumbled.

I inspected him, tugging at his shirt hem and moving the tears out of the way. “The hell did you pick a fight with? An Old Blood?” I muttered.

He tried to shake his head, but his chin just rolled over his chest slightly to one side before flopping back down, following the pull of gravity. “Mm-mm,” he disagreed.

“Okay... this one looks like the worst where most of the blood loss is happening. I’m sorry, baby.”

“So’y f’ wh—YOWCH!” he yelped as I healed the wound, eyes flying open and clarity returning to them as he straightened up. If for only just a moment. “Do you ever heal gentler than takin’ a sledgehammer to the wounds?!”

I didn’t rise to that bait. He was too injured for an argument about my healing magic. “Your mother’s lessons proved unsuccessful,” I grumbled as I found another hefty gash—this one in the soft tissue on his leg, but thankfully missing the important arteries. “On three, okay?” I put my hand over the wound. “One—” And healed it while Milo cried out.

“What happened to three?” he growled even as his head tilted dangerously far forward. His clarity was fading again.

“Hurts less when it’s a surprise, right?”

“No,” he retorted half-heartedly.

“What did you fight with?”

“W’ you b’lee m’ ‘f I said... Ash?”

I snorted. “No.” I moved to kneel on the couch and brought him forward to check his back, resting his forehead against my shoulder. He hummed and flopped a heavy arm across my back, nuzzling into me. “Ash doesn’t leave cuts this bad. Bruises maybe, but not blood. He can beat you in a fight but he does it would leaving you like this.”

“Hmm.”

“Why don’t you want to tell me?”

He tried to stick out his lower lip in a pout, but it didn’t go out as far as it usually did. “Y’ll yell... a’ m’...”

“I’m not going to yell at you.”

Milo took a belabored deep breath and sighed. “It was... a grizzly bear.”

I snorted and healed another gash, watching the clouds in his eyes fade. “No it wasn’t,” I said.

“Yeah-huh!”

“No, baby. It was not a grizzly. The only bears in California are black bears.”

“You don’t know that,” Milo muttered.

I smiled and kissed him, healing the split in his lip from where mine touched his. “Yes, I do. I’m an Investigator. Sometimes our cases take us out into the woods around the city, remember? We’ve got wildlife training. More formal than yours, I’m sure, but yours comes from pack experience and—hold up. How did you cross paths with a bear? What were you doing?”

Milo’s mouth gaped open and shut like a fish several times while he seemed to be coming up with the right words to say. “I...”

“Milo Greer, don’t you dare lie to me,” I threatened.

“You said you wouldn’t yell.”

“I’m not.” Indeed, I hadn’t raised my voice. Just made sure it was firm.

He glowered at the technicality. “I was out runnin’ with Ash and Tanker—”

“Enough said,” I interrupted. “How’d those two fare?”

“Well... let’s jus’ say Sam’s pro’lly readin’ the riot act right about now. Asher’s mate’ll jus’ be happy all Ash got was a cut on the arm.” Milo grunted and shuffled on the couch, stretching out the crick in his neck. I put a hand over his ribs. He caught my wrist and moved it away from them before I could heal it.

“Baby—what—” I started to protest.

He shook his head. “‘M not lettin’ you burn yourself out over me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t use any magic at work today. I have plenty,” I replied. He shook his head a little harder, not meeting my eyes. “Milo.” My warning tone made him avoid my gaze even more fervently. Pulling a face, I phased through his grip and planted my hand back on his ribs, healing the gash before he could snatch me away again.

“Sweetheart—”

“Hey. You always say I’m your mate to justify you taking better care of me than I want. Well guess what, Greer? That goes both ways. You’re not just my boyfriend. You’re my mate too. So shut up and let me heal you.” I blinked. “Except don’t shut up because I like hearing your voice.”

He finally met my eyes. There was a softness in his grey irises that I only ever saw when he looked at me. Milo was a tough guy who’d never been afraid of his emotions—but he had a short fuse on his temper and it ignited pretty easily. The only times I saw him genuinely soft and gentle were when it was just him and me. He tended to be gentle to the youngest members of the pack, but he had nothing against chucking a teenager into David’s pool or onto a sofa if they were getting too rowdy.

For Milo to have that look on his face that he was giving me, he and I had to be alone.

“You’re too damn sweet to me,” he said quietly.

“Just as much as you are to me,” I replied, shuffling on the sofa so we were sitting beside each other rather than me kneeling, facing him. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to me. He rested his head on the space between my shoulder and chest and heaved a sigh as I reached for the last big wound.

Once he was healed—with a melodramatic whine—his muscles loosened up under my roving fingers. “Your healin’ magic still bites,” he grumbled.

“I know. I’m trying. Problem was, my professor for full certification always emphasized effectiveness and efficiency over finesse. He told us it was more important to get the job done than to make it feel painless. And I never got taught how to... heal gently.”

Milo “Hmph”ed, but nuzzled against my chest. “Maybe if my ma’s tips didn’t work, you could ask Sam? I mean, he’s the one with all the fancy-ass education and shiny certification.”

“If the situation ever comes up, I’ll ask,” I promised, tightening my hold around his shoulders to get him to snuggle closer to me. It worked.

“Don’t you have that group chat with all-a you non-shifter mates?”

“Yeah... Sam asked to be removed from the main one three days in. We have a separate one with him where the other three of us... chill out a little.”

That made him laugh. “I wish that surprised me. But honest-to-God, the three-a you are menaces together.”

I shrugged. “We’re friends. I’d think you, Ash, and David would be happy that we get along.”

“We are. But, damn Sweetheart, I can’t blame Sam for not wantin’ to be part-a the main group chat.”

I snickered. “Me neither. I could hear his blood pressure rising from the other side of the city after David’s mate made a... particularly dirty innuendo.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

I rubbed his arm.

We sat on the couch for a while. Milo was half-conscious from all the healing magic and didn’t notice—or, at least, protest—when I used scouring magic to clean his blood off the upholstery.

“Want me to make some dinner?” I asked softly.

“Meh.” He shrugged half-heartedly.

“Wanna just stay right here?”

“Heh.” He snuggled closer to my side.

“Okay. But just for a little bit. I’m starving.”

“Okay.” He nodded against my chest.

“I love you baby.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

“Did you know you’re my favorite person in the whole world?”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Awww. I must be so lucky. Luckiest wolf.” He leaned up and kissed me. We both ignored the blood still on his lips.

“Then I’m the luckiest Stealth.”

He chuckled breathily and put his head back on my chest.

Within seconds he was asleep again, cooing softly.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Milo #Redacted Sweetheart #Milo Greer #Sweetheart #Milo #Starlit Fic

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sheerfreesia007 · 1 year

Text

Win A Date With A Naval Officer pt. 1

Title: Win A Date With A Naval Officer Pt. 1

Fandom: Top Gun Maverick

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x OFC!

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 2,158

Warnings: None

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

WADWANO Tag List: @fandom-princess-forevermore

Gif Credit: @stilinskiderek

The large ballroom was bustling with lively activity as Bob walked into the room with his squad mates. Kamikaze was at the front of the group leading the way towards one of the local veterans who was directing others while they set up tables. Rocket nudged his shoulder as they walked in together and Bob looked over at his aviator curiously. The man was already nodding his head towards a group of women on the other side of the room and Bob rolled his eyes and shook his head at the man.

“C’mon Floyd, we need to find you a woman to settle down with.” Rocket said quietly, trying to convince Bob. Bob shook his head as the others came to stand around him.

“Not all of us can be wifed up already, Rocket.” Bob said sarcastically and his squad all chuckled at his words as a few murmured in agreement. Rocket huffed softly as he placed his hands on hips and glared playfully at Bob.

“I’m gonna get you wifed up before our next assignment. Just you watch.” Rocket promised with a wide smile on his lips making Bob scoff softly and shake his head. Just then Kamikaze and the veteran that he had greeted came over to the group of them.

“Alright listen up fellas, this here is Geronimo and he’s in charge of the set up crew. So we’ll be following his orders.” Kamikaze said and Bob turned to Geronimo while waiting for instructions.

“Good morning Gentlemen. We really appreciate y’all helping out. We need to set up the tables around the dance floor about five feet apart and then the ladies over there will have all the table cloths that need to go on them. Mrs. Bennett is in charge of the ladies over there, she’s the woman in the orange flower dress if you need to speak with her.” Geronimo instructed them and Bob nodded his head along with his words.

Suddenly there was a loud crash heard from the kitchen and Bob whipped his head up towards the far door that most likely led into the kitchen. He watched as Mrs. Bennett rushed towards the door before he heard yelling at raised voices. He wondered what was going on as he saw Geronimo approaching him from the side.

“That’d probably be Lettie’s crew. She’s got her hands full with all the new kitchen staff.” Geronimo advised and Bob idly wondered if the kitchen staff was alright. “Anyway, food will be supplied to you for your help with setting up. Lettie’s in charge of that end of the event but we’ll make sure to get you fellas fed.”

Bob and his squadmates all quickly began moving and setting the tables up around the room in the right configuration under Geronimo’s supervision. He kept the squad all entertained as he retold stories from his deployments and missions that he went on. There was even a moment when he reenacted a mission with Raptor which had them all laughing while clutching their sides.

The camaraderie between the squad and the veteran was comforting to Bob as saw everyone working together to get the task done. Geronimo had even been nice and bought all of them tickets to the event since they had helped out. The squad had offered to pay him back but he had waved them off by saying he had a discount for being a veteran.

Just as Bob pulled out the legs of one of the tables he was setting up he got a whiff of the most heavenly scent of food he had ever smelled. His eyes closed gently as his head tilted upwards and turned to the source. Humming loudly Bob opened his eyes to spot a man dressed in an apron laying out a bunch of dishes on one of the long tables they had set up for the charity event staff.

“Yup that’s Lettie’s food, she always gets that reaction whenever she cooks.” Geronimo said while chuckling as he walked over to Bob.

“It smells delicious.” Bob blurted out and Geronimo grinned kindly at him.

“You wouldn’t be the first one to say that. And it tastes even better than it smells too.” he responded and Bob blushed softly in embarrassment. He took in another deep breath and sighed softly as the smell of the food filled his nose and made his mouth begin to water.

“Is Lettie a single woman?” asked Rocket as his eyes narrowed in on Bob and Bob huffed at his bold tactics.

“Shut-” Bob began to say when Geronimo interrupted him.

“Actually she is. She’s Mrs. Bennett’s youngest daughter and she’s normally the chef for any charity event that Mrs. Bennett is involved in.” Geronimo informed them as they all began to walk towards the food table. “She’s a real sweetheart too, always giving more of herself than taking.” Bob could see Rocket’s eyes lighting up with glee at the veteran’s words and Bob knew he would have to put a stop to this before Rocket got any ideas in his head.

“Any chance you could get us a meeting with this renowned chef?” Rocket asked curiously and Bob began to shake his head as he tried to stop Rocket from getting closer to Geronimo. Striker and Raptor cut in front of Bob and blocked his path as they both smirked at him and he huffed at them before smacking them in the arms.

“Probably not, she’ll be busy with not only getting your food and desserts made but she’ll also probably be busy prepping all the food for tonight. She’s in charge of all of it today and she never does this half assed. I can see if she can spare a minute but I doubt it.” Geronimo said honestly and Bob shook his head quickly at Rocket who winked at him with a grin.

“Well if she has a minute of time I’d love to introduce her to Bob.” Rocket said as he nodded his head over to Bob. Geronimo turned his head to look at Bob and smiled at him before turning back to Rocket.

“She’d like him.” Geronimo said knowingly and the squad all hooted and cheered while Bob blushed heavily at the man’s words. “She’s always going on about men who wear glasses. Plus women always love a man in uniform.” Geronimo teased Bob who ducked his head quickly at his words as he fiddled with his glasses.

“You don’t have to do that, Geronimo. Really these guys just can’t seem to stop playing matchmaker.” Bob said softly and Raptor wrapped an arm around his neck before pulling him in close.

“And this one can’t seem to understand his own self worth when it comes to the ladies. We keep telling him that he’s a catch and any woman would be lucky to have him.” Raptor said proudly as the others all nodded their heads at his words. Bob felt his face grow flush with the praises from his squad as he tried to get out of Raptor’s hold.

“They ain’t wrong boy. You do have a lot to give to a relationship.” Geronimo said and Bob shook his head while pushing his glasses up his nose. Bob smiled softly as he got up to the table and grabbed a plate before looking down into the food trays that were laid out nearly groaning in pleasure. “Looks like Lettie went all out for us. We’ve got her famous Gumbo, cheesy grits, biscuits and gravy. Dig in boys.”

Bob eagerly loaded his plate up with the delicious smelling food before taking a seat with the squad. He quickly scooped up a bite of the Gumbo and placed it in his mouth. There were groans and moans around the table and Bob couldn’t help himself as well as he groaned as he chewed the food. It was like an explosion of spices and flavors in his mouth. Just absolutely delicious home cooked food that made him feel as if the chef had put all her being into the dish.

“Bob, if you don’t sweep this woman up I’ll definitely give it an honest try.” Raptor groaned loudly and the table chuckled at his words. “Man, if she cooks like this for helpers at a charity event I can’t imagine what her food for family is like.”

“No difference, she don’t discriminate.” Geronimo grunted out as he put another forkful of food into his mouth. “And her beignets are otherworldly.” Geronimo advised them before they all looked over to the food table to see a mountain of beignets waiting for them.

Bob was too focused on his food to notice Rocket leaving the table and heading over to the group of women with Mrs. Bennett. He didn’t notice his aviator talking to the event planners and writing down something on a piece of paper for them with a smug smile on his face.

*-*-*-*

Later that night Bob and his squad walked back into the ballroom, all dressed in their khakis uniform, and were amazed to see how it had been transformed from when they had set up the tables to the final look. There was a large crowd milling about the room looking at all the raffle prizes that were available. Bob spotted Mrs. Bennett at a table with four other women who were younger than her. It looked like Mrs. Bennett’s family had come to join her at the event in support. Bob wondered which one was Lettie as his eyes darted over each woman.

“Fellas!” called Geronimo as he stepped away from the group of men that he was standing with. Kamikaze greeted Geronimo warmly and the squad mingled with the group of veterans as Geronimo introduced them all. Not long after everyone had been introduced to each other, the event began in full swing. Bob stayed back with the veterans talking to them about their service as he watched his squad mates all dance with women that were there.

It wasn’t long until Bob found himself sniffing the air and sighing softly. It smelled delicious once again and Bob could feel his mouth watering as if he was like Pavlov’s dogs. Geronimo chuckled as he noticed Bob sniffing the air and came to stand next to him.

“She’s got you hooked without even lying eyes on each other huh?” Geronimo asked teasingly and Bob chuckled softly while flushing in embarrassment.

“I can’t help it, the woman knows how to cook.” Bob said truthfully and Geronimo nodded his head at Bob’s words.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce you to her.” Geronimo said regretfully and Bob shook his head while furrowing his eyebrows.

“No, no. Everyone was busy today so don’t even worry about it. Maybe if you need our help again I’ll be able to meet her then.” Bob said casually and Geronimo nodded his head empathically.

“Maybe tonight I can coax her away from the stove.” Geronimo said thoughtfully as he turned to look at the kitchen door. Bob chuckled at the veteran’s words before shaking his head.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please take your seats, dinner is about to be served.” said the event host behind the podium at the front of the room. Bob eagerly moved to his chair and Geronimo laughed loudly at his actions. Bob grinned boyishly as Geronimo shook his head while taking the seat next to Bob’s. “While the servers deliver the food we’ll go ahead and announce the prizes for the event.” the host advised as Bob’s eyes eagerly followed the servers while they weaved in and out of the crowded table.

Finally when a server came and placed a plate in front of Bob he sat there for a moment gazing at the food. It was Jambalaya and as Bob sucked in a breath through his nose and almost shivered as the scent of the food reached him. Just as Bob was getting ready to put a forkful of the delicious smelling food into his mouth the squad all came back to the table happily chatting about their dance partners.

None of them were actually paying attention or listening to what the host was saying up at the podium. Bob set his fork down as Rocket and Kamikaze took their seats on either side of him. Rocket looked down at Bob’s plate and smiled softly at it before darting his eyes back up to Bob’s.

“Enjoying your food?” Rocket asked in a teasing manner and Bob frowned softly as he looked down at his plate and then back up to Rocket feeling suspicious of the aviator.

“And if I am?” Bob asked and Rocket just smiled while shaking his head.

“And finally we have a date with Naval Officer Robert Floyd.” Said the host from their spot at the podium and Bob dropped his fork in surprise.

“What?!” Bob cried out loudly in shock.

#my writing #WADWANO #Robert Bob Floyd x ofc!#Robert bob floyd

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myckicade · 3 years

Text

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

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#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c.#coco x reader #coco x you #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #johnny coco cruz #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic

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broiderie · 2 years

Text

Lost Princessa 26

Alright. Here's 26. Kinda a filler chapter, but there is some foreshadowing.

As always, thanks to @drabbles-mc. You keep me sane. Let's hope I stay that way with all this forced "rest" I'm getting with pneumonia.

Please do not copy, translate, or otherwise steal my work. You do not want to be me right now. COVID and Pneumonia sucks.

Warnings: Cursing (I feel like that's obvious by now...), some anxiety, mention of prostitution and pimps, mention of porn, ALL the family fluff! Let me know if I missed anything.

Outside, Letty was standing with Coco as they waited for Megan to join them. He handed over what cash he had in his wallet with a chuckle. “Be good, Leticia. No sass.”

“Sure, Coco,” Letty said with a grin. “I’ll see you here when we get back.” Megan laughed as she exited to whistles and catcalls from her friend. “Look at you! I told you wearing that dress was your best option.”

“It’s not too bad with the shorts underneath it. They keep the skirt from tangling me up too badly.” Megan twirled for effect with a giggle.

“Speaking of…” Hank pulled a small tube of lotion out of the inside pocket of his kutte. “Here. In case it starts to itch, Princessa. I’m sure your papa will help you put it on.”

Taza nodded with a grin as he realized Hank was well prepared to handle Megan. Always taking care of her.

Megan took the lotion. “Thank you. You remember everything.”

“I try. And here -” he pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to LEtty. “Just in case she finds something she likes that isn’t Quince related,” he said with a wink. “If I give it to her she won’t use it.”

Megan groaned. “Hank! I don’t need things!”

Bishop chuckled. “Should we start a count of how many times we hear that this afternoon?” He threw his hands up in surrender at the glare he received from his god daughter. “Get used to it, Princessa. You will be spoiled completely if Hank has anything to say about it.”

“Not just Hank…” Marcuse said with a smile.

“See! Tío Marcus understands!”

“Oh no, Poquito. Just because I haven’t started spoiling yet doesn’t mean it’s not coming. I was just waiting for backup!” Marcus chuckled.

Taza chuckled as well. “C’mon. Let’s go feed the girls before we go on this dress hunt. Shopping on an empty stomach is a bad idea.” He winked at Megan. “Kiss him goodbye, Chica. We’ll see him in a few hours.”

Hank grinned at Taza’s teasing and kissed her gently. “Remember - breathe. Be good. Call or text me if you need me.”

She flushed with a grin, knowing all eyes were on them. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” Hank helped her into her riding jacket and checked her helmet before kissing her deeply one more time and letting her mount Taza’s bike behind him.

Letty was behind El Padrino since he had a double seat. She had a small backpack on with her sketchbook and pencils in it.

After lunch at the diner and visiting both formal dress stores in Santo Padre, Megan was getting frustrated. Bishop and Marcus had pushed her to describe what she wanted until she got frustrated enough to completely clam up. She didn’t have the words these shop ladies wanted to describe what she was looking for.

They found a pretty green formal for LEtty that was perfect right off the rack. Bishop had bought it, assuring Letty that he’d talk to Coco and settle up since he wouldn’t let her use the cash her dad had sent.

At the last store, Megan basically went and stood by the door after less than fifteen minutes. The sales lady was pushy and kept getting in her face about things. She was completely frustrated with the whole situation.

She pulled out her phone to see a text from Hank asking how things were going. She text him back explaining things. A few minutes later her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mi Princessa, I’m sorry you’re frustrated. Are your tíos there now?” Hank asked quietly.

“I’m within sight - and Papa is less than ten feet away,” Megan assured.

“Good. Take a deep breath for me.” She did as he asked. “Better?”

“A little.”

“Alright. Does Letty have her sketch? Maybe that will help.” She could hear him rattling around in what she assumed was a toolbox.

“She has it, but the lady here refuses to look at it. SHe won’t even speak English, despite the fact that she was speaking it when we came in. She insists on me trying on a bright fucking pink dress that’s four sizes too small!” Megan sniffed and wiped her face. “Tío Bishop keeps trying to reason with her while Tío Marcus just gave up and started looking himself.”

The rattling stopped. “Alright Princessa. Put your papa on the phone. You just breathe and drink some water, please?” Hank asked.

Megan walked the phone to Taza. “Papa, Hank wants to talk to you.”

“Sure, Chica. C’mere.” He lifted his arm to offer her a place to cuddle against his side.

Megan snuggled against him as Hank spoke to him in rapid fire Spanish. The conversation went on for a moment or two with Taza chuckling under his breath before he handed the phone back to her.”Here you go, Chica.”

Megan took the phone back. “Do I want to know?” She asked. Taza shook his head and hugged her close as Megan gave a tiny giggly before putting the phone back to her ear. “Everything okay, Hank?”

“It will be soon, Princessa. You’ll be leaving soon. Try to have fun, okay? I’ll see you back at the yard in a few hours.” Hank said softly.

“Okay. See you soon.”

They hung up and Megan glanced up at her father. “Can we go now? She doesn’t want to sell to me Papa. She wants Mexican Barbie not a princessa de los mayas.”

Letty came over after having furiously had a rapid fire argument with the shop owner. “She’s right. That bitch doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing.”

Taza caught Bishop and Marcus’ eyes. “La Princessa is done with this bitch’s bullshit. Let’s go. We’ll cross over and buy from a real dress store.”

Marcus chuckled. “Thank goodness. I say we make sure to mention to Mama Loza how rude she was to la princessa. I’m sure she’ll have something to say about it at mass on Sunday.”

The shopkeeper blanched. “What color were you looking for again?” Suddenly she spoke perfect English.

Megan’s temper ignited. “Oh no Bitch. I wouldn’t buy from you now if you have me a dress for fucking free. You can shove that offended attitude too.” Megan stood tall and gripped her necklace. “We’ll be sure ALL the friends and family of the Mayans know how you treat OUR family.”

“That’s our girl. C’mon, Poquito. Let us take you somewhere more your class anyway,” Bishop said with a proud smile.

They left the shop keeper gaping and went to mount up on the bikes.

“Are we really going to Mexico to buy a dress?” Megan asked quietly. “I don’t have a passport.”

“You won’t need one, Chica. Not the way we’re going.”

A short drive to the hidden tunnel and a hike underground put them out at an old Bronco. They drove that into the small town just on the other side of the border from Santo Padre.

“Are there dress shops here?” Megan asked Taza quietly. “It looks smaller than home.”

“It is smaller than home, Chica, but we aren’t looking for a dress shop. We’re headed to a house to meet one of our seamstresses from the dress warehouse. Hank’s calling ahead. We’re getting you a custom dress. Fuck all that off the rack bullshit.” Taza kissed her head with a grin.

Bishop laughed. “We should have done this from the start. La Princessa deserves a perfect fitting gown.”

“And what ever she fucking wants it to look like,” Marcus finished.

Megan sighed quietly. “It won’t help. I won’t have the words to tell her what I want anyway. Maybe we should just grab a dress from the mall and call it done.”

“Oh FUCK no!” Letty said. She turned in her seat to look at Megan. “Listen to me - we’re getting you THE dress you want. You may not have the words to tell her what you want, but I do.” She tapped the cover of the sketchbook. “You already told me what you want. We’ll work off that.”

Bishop glanced at Megan in the rearview mirror. “This will be different, Poquito. I promise you. If you want to give up for that day after this - we won’t argue, okay?”

“Promise?” Megan said slightly petulantly.

Marcus turned to look at her from the passenger seat. “We promise, Poquito. It’ll be okay.”

Taza slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. “You’ll like Francisca. She’s a friend of Mama Loza’s from church. That’s why Hank’s the one calling ahead.”

“And she won’t be pushy?” Megan asked, looking up at him.

“No, Chica. She may tell you certain design elements may not work or that something needs to be done differently - but she’ll give you a reason and options instead of trying to make you something you’re not.” He smiled. “We’ll get what you want and then maybe stop by the market before we go home, hmm?”

“Alright.” She looked at Letty. “But you’re in charge of making sure I don’t look like an idiot - agreed?”

“Agreed.” Letty smiled and opened her sketchbook to review her notes from the day before’s tattoo session.

They stopped in front of a small, gray house where an older woman waited for them on the front porch.

“Hola Francisca. Did Hank call?” Taza asked as he climbed out of the Bronco.

“Yes. He also warned me la princessa doesn’t speak Spanish and is anxious as hell after you dragged her to the swamp witch’s shop.” She glared at all three men but turned kind eyes on Megan and Letty. “Come in girls. I have tea ready. We’ll talk about what you need.” When the men started to follow she turned to glare at them again. “You three will stay in the living room and let the women fix this mess.”

Bishop and Taza chuckled and shook their heads. Marcus followed their lead. “Yes ma’am,” Bishop said.

An hour later, after Letty and Megan had worked out what the final design would be with Francisca, she took Megan’s measurements. When she was done making notes on a paper next to the sketch Letty had finished, she looked up at Megan. “There, Princessa. All settled. We’ll do a fitting in a few days. I think I have everything at the warehouse I’ll need. If not - I’m sure your Padrino Bishop will help me get it.” She offered a hug which Megan gratefully took.

“Thank you, Francisca. I probably would have given up and gone to Sears if we hadn’t come here,” Megan said with a relieved sigh.

“Hmph. Not likely. María would have called me first.” She winked. “You just worry about learning to dance with Hank. That young man knows what he’s doing.”

Letty laughed. “She’s learning alright.”

Francisca smiled at the teenager. “And you, young lady, are an accomplished designer. Don’t give it up. You’ll go far. Especially after the women at the warehouse see this design. Well done.”

Letty ducked her head with a shy smile. “Thank you.”

Taza poked his head in. “All good ladies?”

“Si, Taza. La Princessa is all set. We’ll meet at the warehouse in a few days for fittings. I’ll pass the message through María or Hank,” Francisca said with a smile.

“Good. We need to get going. Hank’s getting anxious. He has a surprise planned and we have things to do before he can do that.” Taza chuckled as Megan’s eyes lit up.

After quick goodbyes, they loaded back up in the Bronco. Bishop chuckled as he noted the difference in Megan’s posture. “Better Poquito?”

“Much. Francisca is even going to put pockets in my dress. And she’s going to make it convertible so that I can take some of the layers out and it’s shorter for the fun party bit.” Megan sat forward to talk to Bishop and Marcus.

“Ahh. You’re much happier now, Poquito. Is it because of the dress or because Hank’s waiting?” Marcus asked with a chuckle.

“Is it bad if I say both?”

“Not if it’s true,” Bishop assured.

“Definitely both then.”

They chuckled as Megan settled back in her seat.

Taza smiled and tucked her under his arm. “Rest, Chica. We’ll be home soon.”

Megan laid her head on him and closed her eyes. Despite having controlled her reaction earlier, the anxiety had still taken a lot out of her. A few minutes later, she was sleeping soundly against her papa’s chest.

Letty smiled and rested against the window. “She’s getting excited, you know. About the party.”

“Good. She should be.” Taza smiled and looked out the window.

“She likes the idea of being part of the family. Thinks of the party as her official adoption by the club,” Letty said quietly.

Bishop spoke up. “She’s already family. You both are.” He looked at Letty in the rearview mirror. “And nobody touches our family.”

Letty nodded. “You guys are going to kill that jackass aren’t you?”

Marcus nodded. “As soon as we can find him.”

“I wonder if Coco thought to check Julien…” Letty mused.

“Julien? Who’s Julien, Sweetheart?” Bishop asked, keeping his voice level.

“Celia’s pimp. The one who tried to get me into Dogwood’s porn. I don’t even know if Coco left him alive when he found out, but he’s got all sorts of connections when it comes to selling girls…” Letty’s eyes started to close.

Taza was already texting one handed and nodded at Bishop in the mirror. “Just rest, Leticia. We’ll take care of everything.”

They finally reached the parking place for the Bronco and woke the girls. They made their way back to the bikes and from there, back to the scrapyard. Chuckie rolled the gate shut behind them as they parked the bikes in the pit.

As soon as the bike stopped moving, Megan was off and stripping her helmet with a huge grin. Hank was waiting on the club house steps, leaning casually on the porch railing. Megan looked at Taza who laughed and said “Go on… I know you want to.” She raced to him with a laugh and wrapped her arms tight around his torso.

“Welcome back, mi princessa.” Hank held her close and kissed her head. “How was your first trip down south?”

Megan breathed deeply for a second. “Good. I like Francisca. My dress is all handled and we found Letty a dress too.”

Hank chuckled and Megan felt the rumbling through his chest. “Good. I’ll be sure to send her flowers on Sunday for taking such good care of you.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her deeply.

“Hey now - let the girl breathe. She did good today,” Bishop teased as he passed them on the way inside. He chuckled as Hank flipped him off and kissed her again.

“Give him a break, Bish. He’s got several hours of missed constant affection to make up for,” Taza said as he followed, getting a muffled giggle out of Megan in the process.

Hank broke the make out session with a reluctant smile. “C’mon. I gotta go reclaim my bank care from Letty. Did you find anything you liked?”

“We only went to the dress stores. We were going to stop by the open air market on the way back, but I fell asleep and Taza didn’t want to wake me up,” Megan explained.

“Ahh. We’ll go back later this week then. After Taza gets back from Vegas maybe. You’ll like the market.” He led her inside leaving EZ outside on watch again.

Most of the guys were relaxing in their own ways. Gilly and Creeper were playing video games while Angel and Coco shot a game of pool. Riz had his guitar out and was quietly strumming it, much to Letty’s amusement. Coco was apparently losing at pool because he was trying to keep one eye on Letty.

Some of the Oakland guys had a poker game going. Bishop and Marcus made their way over to join the game while Taza went to razz Coco over losing.

Megan quickly realized that with EZ on watch and all the hang arounds and girls closed out by the lockdown gate - there was no one behind the bar.

“I should probably check to see if anyone needs refills or anything…” she sighed, reluctant to leave Hank’s side so soon after getting back.

But Hank didn’t turn her loose. “Oh no you don’t, Princessa. The bar is closed for business. They can get their own drinks. We have somewhere to be anyway.”

Megan looked at him confused. “Where exactly do we need to be?” she asked him, puzzled.

“Well, someone wanted a boxing lesson from their padrino. We set up the ring while you were gone,” he nudged her gently with his hip and smiled. “Let’s get you a shirt from behind the bar so you don’t mess up your dress. After that, I’ll take care of our friend from this morning.”

Megan’s eyes widened in surprise and she nodded eagerly. Once again, she was thankful to Letty for the cotton shorts under her dress. “Okay - but all the shirts from behind the bar are in the laundry. Chuckie spilled juice on them when we did family breakfast.”

“Shit.” Hank rolled his eyes with a grin. “Guess you get to steal more of my clothes, mi Princessa. Wait here and I’ll grab a spare from my locker.”

“‘Kay.”

Hank pressed a kiss to her hairline and ducked out the back while Megan made her way over to where Taza leaned against the wall.

“Surprised he let go so quick-” Coco muttered when she was within ear shot. “Fucker was antsy as hell all damn day.”

“Oh leave him alone, Coco. He’s gone to get me a t-shirt so I can have my first boxing lesson.” Megan smiled and nudged him with her shoulder as he started to take a shot.

“Hey! Not cool, Ma! Made me miss.” He pointed at her, narrowing his eyes.

Megan burst out laughing and hid herself behind a very amused Taza. “Oh like you were going to hit it anyway. You’re too busy making sure Letty is behaving to take a shot.”

Coco playfully lunged at her, making her giggle uncontrollably and hide herself even more behind Taza.

“Papa! Tell him!” Megan gasped out between giggles.

“You can’t blame the girl for seeing what’s in front of her, Coco.” Taza chuckled. “She can’t help it if you’re too busy to focus.”

“Can you blame me dude? She’s sixteen,” Coco huffed, emphasizing her age loudly, only to be flipped off by his own daughter.

Taza laughed again and pulled Megan around to wrap his arms around her and let her lean on him. “You good, Chica? If you’re tired, I’m sure your tío will understand.”

“I’m good, Papa. Besides, it shouldn’t take long. Hank still has that cage match too.” She snuggled into him. “Is Tío Bishop sure he wants to do this tonight? He’s pretty involved in that poker game.”

Taza smirked. “Watch this.” He winked at her and raised his voice so it would carry to the other side of the bar. “You may be right, Chica. Bishop may be too tired for your boxing lesson tonight. Maybe we should ask one of the other guys…”

Bishop’s head whipped around to glare at Taza. “Don’t you dare, Taza. You know very well, no one else is going to teach my god daughter to box.”

Megan giggled. “Of course not, Padrino. Whenever you’re ready…”

“Good girl. Hank getting you something to wear?” He bowed out of the game and gathered his winnings.

“Si, Padrino.”

Bishop winked at her. “Good. Don’t forget to take your jewelry off, Poquito.”

“Yes, sir!”

Hank came back with a black t-shirt bearing the Mayan symbol on it. “Here, mi princessa. It’ll swallow you, but we can tie it up.”

Megan took the shirt from him with a soft smile. “Sure you want me wearing your soft colors to get all sweaty in?”

He kissed her softly. “Yes, Princessa. It’ll wash. Go get changed.”

“‘Kay.” Megan popped up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips before she went to go get changed.

Hank watched her go with a smiled that Coco and Angel quietly mocked.

“Dude - at least TRY not to look completely pussy whipped in front of Oakland. You’re makin’ us look bad,” Angel said as he laughed and finished his beer.

Hank shoved him but grinned. “I’m allowed to be whipped for mi princessa, idiota. Watch it or she’ll be whipping you soon. Bishop’s gonna teach her to box. I wouldn’t piss her off.”

Angel grinned. “Eh… I’d let her win.”

“Watch it now, hermano. I already got one cage match tonight. Don’t make it two.” Hank propped himself up on the edge of the pool table with a grin.

#lost princessa #mayans mc #che taza romero #mayans mc fanfic #taza x daughter!oc #hank loza #megan(oc) x hank

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fauna21 · 2 years

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Ok so I was thinking about this AU for sing for a while now but I don’t think Instagram really cares for it so I’m hoping tumblr will!

The AU is the greatest showmen, but it’s not exactly the same. They basically put on a play for the greatest showmen and every time that I’ve listen to the soundtrack my mind is just filled with these characters putting on the play.

So far these are what the cast of sing is gonna be as the character from the greatest showmen.

Buster - of course he’s gonna be PT Barnum, I mean? C’mon.

Idk who Charity would be, but I have an OC who might play the perfect role for her.

Phillip - obviously it’s gonna be Johnny

Anne - Now it doesn’t matter the gender of the role So I’ll make it Ryan

Lettie (aka the bearded woman) - Meena or Rosita I’m having a hard time choosing

Jenny Lind - Nana. Don’t forget it’s gonna be a little differant so no, her and Buster ain’t gonna make out in this AU LMAO

That’s all I have for now, you guys can comment or something and help me find other roles for the characters!!

Tell me what you think?

#sing #sing2 #the greatest showmen #musical #au #alternate universe #plays #broadway #bustermoon #original character #Johnny #Ryan #rosita #meena #sing2 spoilers #jimmy crystal #nana noodleman #singau

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mrsamaroevans · 3 years

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NUMBER ONE | ANGEL REYES

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Reader.

Words: 664.

Warnings: English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.

A/N: Just a little thing that I had on my phone for so long lol *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

The night was perfect.

It wasn’t too hot, the music wasn’t loud and Creeper and Coco went out of the ring twenty minutes before. It was Friday, you went out of work earlier and wouldn’t have to go back until Monday. Sitting on Angel’s lap, both with a beer in hand while talking to Coco, Gilly, Ez, and Letty about the run they had to do the day before, it made your weekend start in the best way possible.

“(Y/n), on the scale from zero to ten, how good Angel is in bed?” Coco asked out of the blue and you choked on your beer. The guys laughed at your reaction and even though Letty had a small grin on her face, she slapped Coco in the shoulder.

“Oh, shut up, Coco, nobody needs to know that,” You said, frowning and trying not to laugh.

“I don’t need to know,” Ez said before drinking from his bottle making everyone laugh harder and you couldn’t keep hiding yours.

“No, wait. I need to know” Angel said, looking up at you.

“C’mon, I won’t say that” You shook your head and that conversation made you drink a big sip of your beer.

“We both know it’s a fifteen”

“Shut up, arrogant!” You said laughing.

“Okay, so in which place he’s in your list?” Gilly asked this time and you laughed at Ez’s face even though you didn’t understand what he meant.

“What list?” You asked him, then looked at Angel. He was looking at you smiling at your innocence.

“C’mon! We all have a list of good partners…” Gilly said and Coco nodded. You turned to Letty and chuckled when you saw the disgust in her face.

“Yeah, in which place am I?” Angel asked like if it was a normal subject to talk about in front of his friends and brother.

“I don’t know, maybe in like the third” you joked and when you saw Angel’s face, you laughed and leaned to kiss his lips, but he shook his head and leaned back.

“Let’s go upstairs, I’m gonna change that thought,” he said, trying to get up.

“I was joking,” You said, no moving from your place “Wait… you have a list?” You asked, looking back at him, he shrugged and you opened your mouth in authentic surprise “You’re so disgusting! You have one!” you gasped. At that moment you weren’t paying too much attention to what the others were saying “In which place am I?”

“I don’t know, maybe like in the third” Angel joked back and you rolled your eyes “Two places under Nails”

That was it.

Your mouth fell open and you heard the laughs from your friends. He knew how much you hated to even hear her name and even though you knew he was only joking —or at least that was what you’d like to think—

“You did not say that!” you slapped his chest when he started laughing, so you tried to get away from him but he grabbed your waist, wrapping his legs around yours so you could not escape “Let go of me! Don’t touch me, you fucking idiot!”

“Game’s not that fun anymore, huh!?” He kept laughing as he tried to kiss your cheek and when he made it, you started laughing again.

“I hate you”

“No, you don’t” he shook his head and kissed your cheek again “You love me so damn much”

A few minutes later, after you finished your beer, you were about to go and grab another one when Angel stood at the same time as you. You looked at him, questioning him with your gaze.

“We’re going home,” he said not only for you to hear but for the guys and Letty.

“Why?” You asked as he left his bottle on the floor.

“I’m gonna prove to you I have the number one on your list,” Angel told you and you laughed.

“Babe, I was joking”

“Well, I wanna keep the place”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#angel reyes #angel reyes drabble #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #Mayans MC #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fandom

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

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Lost Time

Coco Cruz & Letty Cruz

Inspired by Day 14 of the July Prompts: childhood

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I realized that I don’t think I’ve ever really written Coco and Letty in a fic before, and I figured this would be a good chance to remedy that! S3 doesn’t exist for the next thousand or so words lmaoooo

General Mayans Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @mrsstevenbuchananstark @berniesilvas @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

There was never a hell of a lot to do in Santo Padre. It wasn’t a town that was known for being lively or busy. For teenagers and college kids, there wasn’t much else to do besides get into trouble. And that was exactly what Coco had spent all of his time doing growing up. It beat being in the house. He knew that that wasn’t how things were supposed to be—that was something he understood even back then. But when he was a kid there was nothing that he could do about any of it.

Now, though, he had a chance to do things differently. He was trying. It wasn’t always easy, and he didn’t always have the right things to say, but he was trying and that was more than could be said for his mother or any of the asshole partners she had while he was growing up.

“Ay,” he walked into the living room, looking at Letty as she scrolled on her phone while she ate a breakfast she had pulled together for herself, “You got plans today?”

She flicked her eyes up to him and shrugged, “No? I don’t think so. Why, what’s going on?”

He shrugged, “You wanna go do somethin’?”

Setting her phone down, she raised her eyebrows in curiosity, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” his brows furrowed in thought, “whatever shit you kids like to do now.”

Letty laughed, leaning back in her chair, “Alright. Yea, sure. Let’s go do somethin’.”

Standing up, she tossed her bowl and spoon into the sink, “I’ll go change and we can go get into trouble somewhere.”

Coco made the incorrect assumption that she was going to get ready quickly. After a couple minutes of standing in the living room by the door he realized that it was going to take a while. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he sat down on the couch. He was sitting, head rested against the back of the couch when she walked back out into the living room. She saw the way his eyes were closed and rolled hers, shaking her head.

“I didn’t take that long,” she nudged his foot with her own, laughing.

He opened one eye, a smile creeping onto his face, “I got like a full night’s rest waiting for you.”

“Let’s go,” she pulled him off the couch and pushed him towards the door, both of them laughing.

She started walking towards the car out of habit when she realized that Coco wasn’t following her. She stopped, watching him as he walked towards his bike. He was digging into the saddlebag for his spare helmet as she walked up.

“We’re taking the bike?”

He turned around, looking up at her from his crouched position, “If you want. Figured we never really, y’know,” he paused, trying to figure out from her expression what she wanted to do, “We don’t gotta I just thought it’d be, I dunno…”

“Yea,” she shrugged, taking off her purse so she could tuck it into one of the bags on his bike, “I’m down. Just don’t wipe out.”

He smiled, shaking his head as he got onto the bike, “Yea, yea. C’mon, see if you can even get your leg over the fuckin’ bike,” he laughed. While she got situated, he continued, “Might be a little diff’rent than riding on the back of Chucky’s moped.”

“I dunno, the vespa has some speed,” she laughed as she wrapped her arms around him.

Coco had asked where she wanted to go, not quite sure what she would want to do with her time off between high school and college. But she left the ball completely in his court. She was genuinely just content with riding around on the bike, but he felt like that wasn’t quite enough. He knew that her life growing up with Celia couldn’t have been any better than his was. There was no such thing as a childhood in the Celia Cruz household. There wasn’t anything that he could do about all of that, no going back and changing the past. But he could still try to make things better now.

“You hungry?” he asked as they rolled to a stop at a red light.

She nodded, “Sure.”

“Tacos?” he offered.

“Yea,” she settled as they got ready to take off again, “Tacos sounds good.”

They rolled into the parking lot at the little taco house that Coco and the guys always went to if they were getting back to town from a run at a decent hour. Most of the staff there knew all of them fairly well. Letty grabbed her purse from the bag on the bike and went to follow Coco to order when he shook his head.

“Nah, go grab us a table. I got this.”

“You sure?”

“Yea,” he chuckled, “I’m not gonna make you pay for your food.”

Coco watched her as she walked away and went to choose a picnic table for the two of them, not even realizing the smile that had found its way onto his face. He was completely zoned out until the girl behind the counter called him out by name.

“Coco, you alright?” she chuckled as he stepped up to order.

“Yea, I’m alright,” he shook his head at himself before ordering.

She passed the paper back to the men in the kitchen and turned back to him, “It’ll be up in a few minutes,” she paused, looking over to where Coco was looking, “That your daughter?”

He nodded, “Yea, Letty. Pain in my ass sometimes, but I love her.”

“Well,” she smiled, “I’m sure you’re a pain in her ass sometimes, too.”

He laughed, “Probably.”

The two of them were sitting across from each other, a comfortable quietness encasing the table as they each ate their food. Both of them sat back and people-watched. Every now and then Letty would nod towards someone doing something strange and Coco would chuckle, making some sort of off-hand comment about it. It was amazing the things that people would do when they thought that no one was paying attention.

“Thanks for this, Coco,” Letty said as she tossed a crumpled napkin onto her empty plate.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his soda, “It’s just tacos.”

“No,” she laughed, “I mean, thanks for everything.”

“Yea,” he looked down at the empty plate in front of him, not quite sure how to say what it was that he wanted to say, “I, I know shit hasn’t always been great. But if you, if you ever need anything you know you can always tell me, right? I ain’t got much but I’ll do what I can.”

Her smile was small, but genuine, “I know, Coco.”

“I’m proud of you. For doin’ school an’ everything. If there’s something you wanna do this summer just let me know and we can do it.”

“Will you let me drive the bike?” her eyes lit up.

He laughed, shaking his head, “If there’s something else you wanna do just let me know,” both of them laughed, “I love you, Leticia.”

She nodded, knowing that those words didn’t always come out easily in their family, “I love you too, Coco.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz fanfic #coco cruz imagine #leticia cruz #letty cruz #july prompts #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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mycupoffanfiction · 4 years

Text

The One

Coco Cruz x Reader

Summary: Coco turns you in a clumsy, shy mess every time he’s around and you just can’t quite find the courage to tell him how you feel, that is until your Mayan brothers drag you both to a funfair.

Warnings: Fluff, lots of shyness, Angel and Gilly trying to be wingmen, a brief mention of public sex acts.

Word count: Approx 2600

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, I’ve been working on this fic for months, but it was never quite right, but I loved it too much to scrap it, so I’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you! I did struggle with this a bit, so I apologise if it’s not super smooth, but hey 🤷🏻‍♀️ This is just the first part, the second part will be with you soon. Enjoy! 💖

“How the fuck are you winning again?” Gilly groaned, slouching in his chair opposite you as you placed down a card on the table, effectively winning the round of the card game you were playing. Giggling, you shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, looking rather smug with yourself. “You challenged me, remember?” You giggled, all too happy that you’d won another round. Gilly sighed and tilted his head back before gathering up the cards. “One more round?” He asked, handing you the cards to shuffle and you nodded, taking them from him.

Shuffling the cards, you were mid conversation with Gilly about how you wanted to go to the fair that had been set up just outside of town, when Angel and Coco entered the clubhouse. “It’ll be great, also, I don’t believe him, but Coco said he’d never had cotton candy before and-.” “He’s never what?” Gilly replied, incredulous, if not a little over dramatic and you giggled, shaking your head. “There’s your chance for a date, hermana, take ‘im to get cotton candy.” Gilly chuckled, nudging your hand with his, to which you protested with a drawn out, hushed ‘noooo Gilly’.

You were a dear friend to the club and all of its members, so much so that you were often titled ‘hermana’ since you had become a sister to most members, though some of them, notably Bishop had taken to calling you mija. But really, you kept everyone in the club grounded and you were greatly appreciated for your loving, sweet nature, despite the fact that you were horrendously clumsy and on more than one occasion had managed to run into people, drop everything and break things, not that anyone minded. But it always seemed to happen more prominently around Coco and the boys were beginning to notice it happen more frequently when you were around him.

“What are you two up to?” Angel asked, interrupting your thoughts as you shuffled the cards. “Just having a game.” Gilly replied, going on to tell Angel about how he’d totally won the last three rounds, to which Angel snorted in disbelief. It was another moment before you even realised that Coco was there, he’d not said a word, but you looked up to deal the cards between you, only to see him eyeing you over Gilly’s shoulder and you fumbled with the cards, some of the deck falling from your hands and spilling over the table and scattering everywhere while you attempted to keep them together.

“Oh jesus- fucking- hi Coco.” You managed to squeak out, Gilly trying so hard to contain his laughter as Angel gathered up the cards that had dropped to the floor and you felt the heat of embarrassment surge through you as you shuffled the cards back into a stack. “Hey corazón.” Coco responded with a light chuckle at your sudden bout of clumsiness and you felt yourself melt at the name he used for you, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how shy and embarrassed you were.

“I’ll get some beer.” Coco announced, throwing you a smile as he walked away. “How long is this gonna go on for? I can’t deal with you goin’ all butter fingers whenever you just fucking look at him.” Angel hissed, though he was far too amused by it all to actually be annoyed and you desperately wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Everyone knows you love him.” Angel told you and your eyes went wide. “I’m pretty sure even Coco knows.” He chuckled and you felt even more nervous about saying anything. “Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t listen to Angel, hermana.” Gilly said, lightly whacking him on the arm. “You gotta tell Coco-.” “Tell me what?” Coco cut in as he came back with some bottles and you slid down a little in your seat. “Oh, our little hermana here-.” “Thinks it’s ridiculous that you’ve never had cotton candy before.” Gilly interrupted Angel, kicking him under the table and you gave him a thankful smile before shooting daggers at Angel who looked far too pleased with himself. “What?” Angel asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

Coco just looked at you with a raised brow, evidently not believing it one bit and you quickly reached for your drink, hoping at the very least that occupying yourself with the bottle would distract you a bit. Coco lit himself a cigarette and toked it a couple of times before taking a full draw of his smoke, reaching for his beer.

“So what about that fair outside of town this weekend?” Gilly asked. “I’m down, I need a change of fucking scenery.” Angel nodded. “Coco?” Gilly asked as you took a sip from your bottle. He shrugged, looking at the two men with indifference. “Hey, c’mon man, remember last time with the photobooth?” Angel nudged him, winking. “Shut up, carnal.” Coco rolled his eyes, taking a puff from his cigarette as Gilly snorted. “The fabled tale of Coco gettin’ loco with not one, but two girls in a fuckin’ photobooth.” Angel said, speaking as if it was some kind of epic tale, when really, it was more of a half drunk escapade that Coco barely remembered a wink of, apart from maybe the tale end of a two girl blowjob.

“You comin’ hermana?” Gilly asked, completely changing the subject and you looked between the three men, giving them a look of uncertainty. “I don’t know guys, you’re just gonna abandon me in the teacups again.” You pouted, Gilly and Angel immediately erupting into laughter at the memory from last year.

Coco huffed as he listened to the conversation. He didn’t care about finding girls to have a little fun with at the fair, if anything, he was more interested in something else, not that he was going to make that known, especially not with Angel and Gilly around.

Coco leaned over, draping his arm around the back of your chair. “I’ll go if you go, corazón.” He whispered in your ear and you instantly felt yourself burn up from his close proximity and the way he said those words, deep, enticing, but somehow still sweet and soft. Angel and Gilly too were far too wrapped up in retelling stories of their last trip to a fair to pay any attention to Coco’s actions and you swallowed heavily, glancing shyly across at him, the Mayan much closer than you had anticipated and as you faced him, eyes almost too timid to meet his, your breaths mingled for a moment with how closely he had leaned in.

“I’ll go.” You responded quietly, voice barely audible, but Coco heard you just fine and your response prompted a big, lopsided smile on his lips and you wondered how you’d even mustered the courage to respond.

“See you there, corazón.” He smirked, leaning back to take the last sip of his beer before he stood up from the table abruptly enough to get the attention of Angel and Gilly.

“Gotta go, got shit to do with Letty.” He said, putting his bottle down on the table. “See you later ‘mano.” Angel waved him off, Gilly eyeing your flustered state and giving you a questioning look as you attempted to pull yourself together.

“You alright hermana?” He asked. “Probably.” You nodded, clearing your throat a little and shifting in your seat, uncomfortable under the questioning looks you were getting from both men before you finally decided to awkwardly say goodbye to your brothers and excuse yourself from the table.

“Tell me I wasn’t the only one who saw that?” Gilly hissed at Angel. “Nah man, I saw the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her.”

The next day was far too quick to come around and by the time you’d rocked up to the fun fair on the back of Gilly’s bike, you felt like the last day had slipped away from you far faster than you would have liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to spending the day with your boys, you were so excited to spend some time with them away from the MC. But your apprehension came more from being afraid that you might fuck things up with Coco. What if you told him how you felt and he rejected you? What if he avoided you? That would crush you, but while you had been nervous about admitting feelings to Coco, all of your brothers knew that the two of you would be perfect together, which was why they were adamant on pushing you both together despite your often silent panic when they did so.

It was early evening as you walked with Gilly over to where Angel was standing in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, waiting impatiently for you both.

“You’re gonna tell Coco today, right?” Angel asked before he even greeted you, pushing away from his bike before approaching you and Gilly. “Oh yeah, it’s real nice to see you too Angel.” Gilly replied in a sarcastic tone, making the taller of the two snort in response. “But you’re gonna, right?” Gilly joined in, turning to look at you as you glanced at the two bikers who stared at you expectantly. “I mean… Maybe?” You answered, hoping it was enough to get them off your back about Coco, but it only seemed to make it worse because Angel was adamant a plan he’d come up with for how you should tell Coco was ‘fool proof’, whatever that implied.

“We’re meeting Coco in the fair, he’s late.” Angel informed you both as Gilly began to lead the group of you across the parking lot towards the entrance booth. “Club shit?” Gilly asked. “Nah, somethin’ to do with Letty.” He shrugged.

You stood with a grin on your lips as you watched Gilly and Angel playfully banter between them as they waited to have a go at winning something at a booth with water pistols and targets.

As you watched, you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands gently grip your shoulders and you barely had time to react before you heard his deep, low voice, quickly relaxing you. “Whoa, relax corizon, s’just me.” Coco spoke softly in your ear. “Coco,” You looked over your shoulder at him with an uncontrollable smile, the biker coming round to your side, his arm staying around your shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late, was making cake with Letty.” Coco told you with a smile. “Don’t tell Angel that.” He added, making you giggle and shake your head. “I won’t, your secret is safe with me.” You replied, voice quiet and soft. Coco looked over at you, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he caught your gaze, noting how relaxed you looked, how relaxed you felt against him and it brought a warmth to his heart to see you that way.

Angel glanced over his shoulder at Coco and the pair nodded at each other in a silent greeting, Angel smirking as soon as he saw you tucked against Coco’s side with his arm around you before he turned his attention back to the game when it was his and Gilly’s turn.

“Wanna go do shit without those two?” Coco asked. “Gonna have another headache if I gotta babysit them.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’d like that.” You nodded, letting Coco tug you along with him.

Coco walked you through the fairground, stopping by stalls and booths along the way to play a few games, his smile always doubling in size whenever he heard you giggle, noticing you enjoying yourself in his company. Coco had wanted to spend time with you and talk to you for a while, but no matter how hard he tried, one of the Mayans always seemed to drop themselves into the conversation before he even had a chance to try and ease you out of your shell and give you his full, undivided attention.

And now, as you both found yourself on the furthest side of the fairground, overlooking a beautiful sunset in the distance with a bag of candy floss in Coco’s hand that he shared with you.

It was such a sweet moment, calm and dreamy, the ambience of funfair was soft in the background, the soft, golden glow of the sunset gently casting over the desert horizon.

Coco looked over at you, bathed in golden light, gorgeous with a soft smile on your lips. He felt himself smile uncontrollably as you leaned against his side, his hand finding yours, fingers slowly and gently intertwining.

It felt right, it felt like it was meant to be in the sweet, serene moment you shared together and Coco knew right then and there that he’d found the one for him. You were the one.

“Coco,” It came out as a whisper, warmth filling you when you realised how naturally your hand had fit in his, how wonderful his touch felt against yours. “Yeah, corazón?” He asked, barely above a whisper, his voice low and warm against your ear as he leaned against you.

“I… I’m-.” You cut yourself off with a sigh, eyes cast down at your feet, trying to hide yourself, the feeling of shyness overcame you.

“Hey, take your time, mi estrellita.” Coco hummed softly to you, his voice soothing as you drew in a deep, slow breath. But when you became too shy to respond, he smiled, bringing your hand up to his chest, prompting you to look at him, a bit too timid to hold his gaze fully. “Look at me, mi corazón.” Coco whispered, reaching over to lift your chin with his fingers.

You shared a comfortable moment of silence together, your hand resting against his chest, the background chatter and laughter of the fair adding to the ambience, the sun slowly lowering just enough to leave you bathed in a soft, hazy twilight.

“I know, I know that every time you look at me, you get shy.” Coco said, watching as you tore your gaze away from him quickly. “Hey hey, wait, hold on corazón.” He urged, tugging you back to him gently. “But I get butterflies every time I look at you, I get this fuckin’ uncontrollable smile whenever I see you lookin’ at me ‘cause fuck, ma, you drive me crazy.” He smiled to himself, his eyes lighting up as he spoke openly about how he felt.

“It drives me fuckin’ crazy whenever I think about you, I think ‘bout all this shit I wanna do with you, shit I’ve never wanted to do with anyone before.” He confessed, both of his hands holding yours to his chest as he spoke and you couldn’t help but look at him and wonder if you weren’t just dreaming. “Really?” You managed to get out. “Yeah, I can’t get’chu outta my mind.” Coco grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hands.

“I wanna take you on a date, wanna make you happy in every way I can, in every way possible ‘cause you deserve nothin’ less.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath before his eyes met yours. “Will you let me do that? Will you let me make you my girl?” He asked softly, watching as you smiled, shyly nodding, a little taken aback by his sweet words.

“I’d love that, Coco.” You said, almost in a whisper, but Coco met you with a bright grin before he leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Mi estrellita.” He whispered, pulling you against his chest and holding you close, embracing you gently, his heart fluttering, feeling on top of the world, because Coco got his girl.

He found the one.

Mayans/SOA Taglist (OPEN):

@everyhowlmarksthedead @woahitslucyylu @trulysuccubus @iambabyharry @starrynite7114 @ifoundmyhappythought @peaches007 @angelreyesgirl @thesandbeneathmytoes @plentyoffandoms @lovebennycolon @chibsytelford @mayans-sauce

Permanent Taglist (OPEN):

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#coco cruz x reader #coco x reader #johnny coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #coco x you #coco x y/n #coco #coco cruz x y/n #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #mayans mc #mayans fic #mayans

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thisiswhatshefelt · 3 years

Text

For Olivia

Summary: Line cook Johnny "Coco" Cruz has made many bad decisions in his life, but his biggest regret is not being a part of his children's lives. He reconciles with his teenage daughter, Letty, so he’s hopeful when he shows up on his four-year-old daughter’s doorstep. Shanice Hunter, a newly-appointed guardian, is determined to protect Olivia from anything— even if that means her own father. Story Warnings (overall): Other than some mild language and alcohol/drug use, this is some pretty fluffy stuff. For me, anyway. Multi-chapter. Pairing: Chef!Coco x Black!OC Words: ~1.3k

Chapter One They’ve never met. She’s never even seen a picture of him. But when Shanice opens her door and sees the tattooed man standing in her doorway, she immediately knows that he’s Johnny Cruz.

The process isn’t as long as everyone warns her it would be, but it is incredibly tedious. There are complicated forms to fill out and hearings to attend, but she forces herself to trust the process. She’s patient. And after three months, she officially becomes the legal guardian of the four-year-old girl standing beside her.

Their things are unpacked, yet Shanice keeps the flattened boxes stacked in the storage room on the deck. It’s been weeks since moving into this new apartment, and fear keeps her from tossing the boxes. She’s afraid some technicality will delay the process, or that her best friend, Mel, will change her mind about the whole thing.

But Shanice is awarded guardianship almost too easily, but she wraps her arms around Olivia tightly when it’s official. They hug this way every night after they kneel and send their prayers off with soft ‘amens.’

The embrace comforts Shanice more than it does the little girl whose body has lost way too much weight. Olivia’s much too young for all of life’s uncertainty. She’s already learned not to trust a promise, and her appetite wavers without something definitive. She pushes food around the plate at every meal as the not yets and the soons get old, sometimes forcing spoonsful of her dinner down for Shanice’s benefit.

Olivia’s small hand holds onto Shanice’s pinky and forefinger as she looks up at the man in the doorway. He stares back at her, shoulders suddenly heavy now with what Shanice will later learn is shame. He’s looking down at what has flourished in his absence.

Shanice sometimes tries to imagine his face, but he’s shapeless in her mind, and it’s hard to put a face to something without form. To catch smoke in her hand. Olivia has the same round, expressive brown eyes that give her away, and she has those same ears that are too big for her head.

Johnny’s ears are even more emphasized by his long hair that he tucks behind them. Tattoos peak out from the cuffs of his sleeves and the neck of his sweatshirt like weeds slipping through cracks in a wall.

He clears his throat before taking a half step forward. There are so many features that he and Olivia share, but his are masked in a furtive shadow even as he’s flooded with light from her apartment. Entirely too nondescript. He’s wearing dark jeans and an unmarked black hooded sweatshirt like he’s been trying to stop the darkness from clawing at his back.

Shanice shields Olivia, pulling her back and out of view when he inches forward.

“Sorry to come at you so late at night,” he says, tearing at the silence. “Uh, I’m Coco- I mean, I’m Johnny Cruz, Miss. Can we talk?”

“Go to your room, Olivia,” Shanice tells the girl, but it sounds as though she’s scolding her.

The curt tone is misdirected, meant for the recognizable stranger at the door. She looks behind her and watches as the little girl’s eyebrows weave together with confusion. She retreats to her new room with half her attention still focused on the door. Shanice gives a tight smile, attempting to reassure Olivia as the door pushes in but doesn’t completely shut.

“She’s beautiful,” the man lets fall from his mouth in a small yet untidy heap.

When the doorbell rings, Shanice thinks it’s the pizza she’d ordered for dinner that Wednesday. She still has the money in the pocket of her pajama pants, but she wished she’d brought the metal bat she keeps under her bed instead.

Johnny. She might have heard the name mentioned years ago, but the memory feels like a faded dream or a faint taste of déjà vu on her tongue.

“What do you want?” Shanice nearly pushes the words at him through her teeth as she speaks. She’s asking so much more with her question.

Are you going to take her away?

“You don’t gotta worry about me fuckin’ up your home or nothing,” he starts, clearing his throat more out of apprehension than necessity. He continues his researched speech, “I don’t wanna disturb nothing you got goin’ on here. I’m tryna make some amends in my life, and I’d be grateful if you would allow me to meet her.”

“How is meeting her not a disruption?”

He shakes in head, frustrated. “Naw, I meant…I’m not here to ask no custody or no bullshit like that.”

“You goddamn right, because I’ll kill you before I let that happen.” It’s intended mostly as a figure of speech, but she steps forward with one hand clenching the doorknob and the other clenching the money in her pocket. There isn’t anything figurative about the way she feels then as her hands tremor.

But Johnny doesn’t even seem surprised. This is something he must have expected from the list of imagined scenarios.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shanice sees the pizza delivery boy walking up the stairs with her food, and she suddenly realizes how the scene must look. She’s in a faded UCLA shirt and fuzzy pajama pants as her eyes are wide with every bit of contempt her body can muster. She relaxes her eyes, then her limbs follow as she finally remembers to breathe.

“Um, large pepperoni pizza?” the delivery boy tentatively puts forward the food, extending his lanky arms.

“Like I said,” Johnny begins. “I’m not tryna to inconvenience you or her, so I’m gonna go. If you wanna reach me…”

She watches as Johnny pulls a worn piece of paper from his pocket and slip it in the fold of the pizza box before turning and running down the steps of her place.

It takes a too-long, awkward moment to pass before Shanice remembers the delivery boy is still standing off to the side with containers of food in his scrawny hands. She apologizes as she slips him the money while simultaneously grabbing the boxes and she’s soon back inside the apartment. As Shanice puts the chain on the door, she has the strong urge to barricade it with the couch.

“Mushroom!” Shanice calls out as she washes her hands at the kitchen sink. “Pizza’s here!”

The door to Olivia’s room slowly opens and she looks around the living first before walking out of the room.

“C’mon, come wash your hands,” Shanice beckons from the sink.

Olivia joins her at the sink, pulling her step stool from the corner of the kitchen. She glances up at Shanice, squishing soap suds between her fingers.

“Who’s’at man?” Olivia blurts out.

There it is.

Shanice knows the inquiry must eventually come, but she doesn’t expect it this soon. Not before she has time to think of what to say.

“He’s just…” she shakes her hand, accidentally pumping more soap back on her hands to rinse for the second time. “He’s an old friend,” Shanice manages.

“How come you looked so mean at him?”

“Well, he’s mommy’s friend-”

“Oh,” Olivia’s eyebrows knit again, completely understanding. She’s seen a lot of Mel’s friends- old and new and temporary. “So…” Her face contorts with one eye scrunched as if she’s looking through a kaleidoscope. “…so he bringed a pizza?”

“No, Mush,” Shanice laughs at the conclusion Olivia draws. “I’m hungry, are you hungry?”

Olivia’s attention lands on the warm pizza now on their counter, but her favorite are the garlic rolls. Shanice is fearful that Olivia will go back to pushing her food around every time a meal is presented. Her cheeks are slowly beginning to fill, though. The childish chub is returning to her face as her appetite slowly begins to pick up. She’s less folded into herself, walking more like a child and less like a shadow.

They eat on the couch, watching A Goofy Movie while Shanice is the one who picks at her dinner tonight. Her stomach is in deep twists and doesn’t leave any space for anything else as she thinks of what’s to come from Johnny Cruz.

Next chapter: Two

#mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans fanfic #mayans fanfiction #coco cruz #johnny cruz #coco x oc #thisiswhatshewrote #poc!fanfiction #poc!fanfic #woc writer #poc writer #black oc #mayans mc x oc

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skycollides · 4 years

Text

Surprise

Hank x Reader

Authors note: I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes

English isn’t my native language.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Warning: none

Words:1.242

2 weeks earlier

Stepping inside of the clubhouse you were relieved that the guys had Templo.

Making your way towards the bar you saw the 2 people you were hoping to find.

Ez and Letty.

’’Hey you two’’

You gave Letty a hug and Ez a kiss on the cheek’’

’’Hey Y/N’’ Letty said.

’’How long have they been in Templo Ez’’

’’About 45 minutes why?’’

’’That means they will most likely be out soon. I need your help.’’

’’With what? Hiding a body?’’ Ez laughed.

’’No but if that’s an offer I most definitely know who to call now!

So Hanks birthday is coming up and I wanted to surprise him with a party.’’

’’I’m in Y/N you know I love planning’’ Letty says overjoyed.

’’Thanks Letty I appreciate it.’’ you turn your head in Ez’s direction.

He looks at you with wide eyes.

’’Don’t look at me like that. I don’t expect you to help us plan. I simply need an insider who keeps me up to date about the runs and whereabouts so Letty and I can plan without interruption.

You’re the perfect one for that job since you can actually keep you mouth shut.’’

’’I’m in sweetheart.’’

’’Thats the sprint I was looking for my friend’’

You hear the door moving and the guys started to walk out.

’’Hey babe what are you doing here’’ is the first thing Hank said after approaching you.

’’Hey Hank’’ he leans down to give you a kiss.

’’I missed you soo I took the rest of the day off.’’ you smiled

’’Well if that’s the case then let's get out of here I’ll meet you at home.’’ with that being said he gives you another kiss and makes his out of the clubhouse.

’’2 weeks from now on’’

today

It was 8 pm and you , Letty Vicky and some of her girls were still helping you at the clubhouse with the last preparations when you heard the sound of bikes.

The door flew open and Chucky ran inside.

’’They’re here’’ he said.

’’Lights out’’ Vicky yelled. Letty turned the lights off and now you were waiting.

You told Ez to make sure Hank is the first one to enter the clubhouse once they were back from their run. You knew everything worked out when you heard him say

’’Why the fuck is it so dark in here?’’

’’SURPRISE!!’’ is what everyone said out loud as soon as Letty turned the lights back on.

Saying he looked shocked was an understatement.

You made your way towards your boyfriend and wrapped your arms around his neck.

’’Happy Birthday Babe’’ you said before giving him a loving kiss which he glad accepted.

’’I seriously thought you forgot.’’

’’How could I? It’s your birthday: I gotta cherish the day the love of my life was born.’’

’’I love you Y/N! Thank you it means so much to me.’’ now he was the one pressing his lips to yours.

’’You two are so cute I think I’m gonna cry… But since we don’t want that to happen

LET’S GET THE PARTY STARTED’’ is what you heard from Vicky once you let go of Hank.

3 hours later

After you made sure everyone is happy and enjoying the party you decided to have a beer with Hank but you couldn’t find him.

’’Hey Bish do you know where Hank went? I haven’t seen him in a while’’ you asked.

’’He went outside love’’

’’Thank you’’ after kissing his cheek you made your way outside with 2 beers.

Once you were outside you saw him leaning on his bike looking up at the sky.

’’Hey babe’’ you called out not wanting to startle him.

’’What are you doing out here? I have been looking for you.’’

’’Needed to get some air.’’ he said while accepting the beer you were offering.

’’What’s up?’’

’’What do you mean.’’

’’You being outside on your own. It’s unlikely for you. You usually do it when you need to clear your mind so something must be bothering you.’’ you elbowed his side slightly

’’C’mon babe you can talk to me.’’

’’It’s stupid.’’

’’It can’t be stupid if it’s bothering you and making you miss your birthday party which I have been planning for weeks.’’

’’I was worried’’

’’About?’’

’’You, me, us’’ he whispered

’’I don#t get it.’’ you add confused.

’’You were so secretive those past weeks and your were constantly talking to Ez.

I guess I was jealous maybe even afraid.’’ he sounded defeated which kind of broke your heart.

’’Afraid of what Hank?’’ you said softly after setting your beer on the ground. You stepped in front of him, putting your hands on his cheeks and lent your forehead against his.

’’That you’’ his voice broke and a tear escaped his eye which you caught with your thumb.

’’That you realized that I’m not what you want. That you want someone much younger than me.

Someone your age.’’

’’Someone like Ez?’’ you said while caressing his cheek.

’’Yes…’’ you took a step back before you started to speak.

’’Let me get two thing straight. I don’t care about your age babe. I honestly don’t I mean come on its just 13 years no big deal but its okay to get insecure. I get insecure too from time to time. It’s normal it happens. I don’t love you any less because of that.

Ez and I are friends - really good friends nothing more.

I chose him to get me updated on club business and your whereabouts so me and Letty could plan you party without interruption or any of you noticing.

The more people know the higher is the risk someone’s gonna spill the beans.

I mean If you’re being honest Ez’s the only one who won’t spill a secret by accident.

Yes I was acting kind of weird but only because I was scared I might say something about the party you know?!

I wanted it to be perfect for you. You do so much for me Hank, so much. Even with all the shit going on with the club and stuff. You take care of me , you listen to me , you’re here when things get rough at work and I just wanna hide. It’s you who’s cheering me up. You make me happy Hank and you love me like no one else has before.

I wanted you to feel spacial. Thats why I planned the surprise party for you.

I wanted you to feel what I feel when I’m around you. Special.

And Hank’’ you said before taking his hand into yours.

’’You’re THE ONE. I want you and only you! I love you with all my heart. It belongs to you and no one else. It will always belong to you.’’ Hank was speechless after your revelation.

He simple pulled you in his arms and kissed you.

You were the first one to pull away to get some air.

’’I love you too baby. I guess my thought got a bit carried away.’’

’’Thank you for being you - for being the amazing woman you are.

You’re my endgame I mean it.’’

Your eyes got wide.

’’Don’t worry I’m not proposing here. I’m just letting you know that I want to have you by my side for the rest of my life.’’

’’I’m glad to hear that’’ you laugh

’’I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.’’

Taglist:

@everyhowlmarksthedead

@mayans-sauce

@lauraashley93

@spookys-girl

@lovebennycolon

@charcoocheurie

@queenbeered

@angelreyesgirl

@starrynite7114

@ocetevasgirl

#mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #hank loza #hank x reader

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breanime · 4 years

Note

can i request “You mean that… there’s a baby in there right now? And it’s mine?” with Angel Reyes please ma'am?

*gif not mine*

You, Angel, EZ, Coco, Letty, and Gilly had a secret that no one else in the club knew, and you’d all sworn to never tell them…

…on the last Friday night of the month, every month, the six of you got together…

…and played charades.

Angel and EZ were always on the same team, because if they weren’t, they would bicker like the 12-year-old boys they really were, so this month, the teams were Angel, EZ, and Letty versus you, Gilly, and Coco. You loved this—this quality time with your loved ones. You loved seeing Angel so carefree, loved watching the way his eyes lit up when he won a point for his team, loved hearing his laugh, loved watching him unwind.

You loved him.

And you loved the fact that you were carrying his child…

…even if he didn’t know it yet.

You sat back, tears in your eyes, as you watched EZ pantomime watering a garden. He’d been up there for his full 60 seconds, and all Angel and Letty could guess was “masturbating!”. The timer went off, and EZ groaned, throwing his hands up.

“If the answer was masturbating, I would have stopped doing it!” He sighed.

“I said jerking off, too!” Angel argued.

“Those are the same thing, Angel!”

“Nah, there’s a difference,” Letty said, crossing her arms.

EZ’s mouth dropped, too incredulous to even respond.

“Okay, shut the fuck up, we get to guess now!” Coco announced. He turned to you and Gilly, and the three of you leaned close to each other. “Okay, so,” Coco whispered, “…the answer’s beating off, right?”

You slapped his forehead, and Gilly groaned. “He’s planting a garden,” Gilly said back.

“Watering a garden,” you clarified, and the boys nodded. You sat back. “Watering a garden?”

EZ groaned. “Fuck,” he said, handing you the card, so you could confirm that you were right—which you were.

“Annnnnd that’s another point for us,” you said cheerfully, getting up to grab the next card for your turn.

“C’mon, mi dulce, you really gonna do me like that?” Angel whined.

“Aw, baby,” you cooed, “you know how much I love doing you…” You laughed, looking down at your card, and oh…

It said: having a baby.

Hm. Well… You bit your lip, glancing up at Angel. He was arguing with EZ again/already, and as you looked at him, you just felt your heart swell. This man was going to be the father of your child, you were a family… You’d been wrestling with how to tell him that you were knocked up, and the universe gave you a perfect way to do it…

“Okay, start the clock!” You called out. You went to the middle of the room and mimed a big belly.

“Pregnant!” Gilly yelled at the same time Coco guessed “Santa Claus!”.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Gilly asked, glaring at his teammate. You shook your head, pointing at Gilly. “Okay, pregnant…” Gilly went on.

“Knocked up!” Coco added when you kept making the big belly motion.

“In the family way!” Gilly yelled.

“Bun in the oven!” Coco cried.

You crouched down and gestured downwards, trying to mime giving birth.

“Delivering a baby!” Gilly cried out.

“Having a baby, someone having a baby!” Coco shouted.

You nodded, jumping up and pointing at him excitedly.

“Yes!” Coco and Gilly high-fived, but you weren’t done.

You went back to the big belly motion and pointed at yourself.

“Woman!”

“Wife!”

“Girl!”

You shook your head, doing the belly motion again before pointing at your stomach, smiling widely. You could see the exact moment when Coco and Gilly caught on; Coco’s jaw dropped, and Gilly shot up, clapping excitedly. You looked over at the other team. EZ was smiling softly at you, and you knew he knew, too. Letty and Angel however, looked like their browsers were still loading… But then Letty’s eyes widened, and she stood up, pointing at you.

“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” She cried out.

“Damn, Letty, you’re not even on her team,” Angel started. He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening, and he stared over at you. “Wait… what?”

You giggled, your heart pounding, and you nodded, placing your hands over your stomach. “Mm hmm,” you said.

Angel stood up and walked towards you slowly, his hands held out in front of him. He covered your hands with his over your stomach, staring down at it as if he could already see the baby in there. “Holy shit…” He breathed out. He looked at you, his big brown eyes sparkling, and you feel even more in love with him in that moment. “You mean that… there’s a baby in there right now? And it’s mine?”

“No,” you deadpanned, smirking, “it’s Leticia’s.”

He laughed, pulling you towards him in a hug. “We’re having a baby!” He pulled back a bit, his arms still wrapped around you. “We’re having a baby!” He announced to the room.

You laughed as everyone ran up and hugged you, congratulating you and touching your stomach.

“You know,” Letty smirked, “that baby is gonna be adorable, but it’s be even cuter if it was mine.”

You laughed, hugging her. You looked over at Angel, and he was smiling at you as EZ, Gilly, and Coco patted him on the back and toasted his “potent fucking shit, man” (to quote Coco). Angel’s eyes were soft, and he mouthed three words to you from across the room:

I love you.

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

Awwwww Angel! Love that boy! Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @mrsjaxtellerfan @rhabakoli @encounterthepast @realduckvader @justvnash @knowles-morgan @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19 @nyxxnoxx @carlaangel86 @luminex3 @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart @lexxierave @crushed-pink-petals @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams @a-dorky-book-keeper @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @nich0lasmatthews @ben-c-group-therapy @felicity-x0 @amirra88 @yourfellowangel

Mayans MC Taglist: @glorified-angl @gemini0410 @jamielennkeeler @wrcn9fvlcver @whyisgmora @whovianayesha

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #bre's prompts drabbles event

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broiderie · 3 years

Text

Lost Princessa 14

Part 14. Don't kill me.

Please don't copy, duplicate, or translate my work anywhere else. One of me is enough.

Thank you @drabbles-mc and @iamthegraham for keeping me sane.

Warnings: show level talk of cartel, cursing, guns, FLUFF... let me know if I missed something.

Megan woke the next morning alone, with Letty sleeping on an air bed a little ways away. The club house was completely silent, which is what probably woke her. She sat up and looked around. The coffee pot was half-full, but there were no bikers in sight.

She stood carefully and reached under the couch where she had stashed her 9 mm the night before. She chambered a round and nervously moved towards the front door. Something was WRONG, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

Out in the yard, she heard the crusher running, but most of the bikes were missing. She couldn’t see anyone working in the immediate vicinity either. Had they all gone out to work in the scrapyard early to make up for missing the day before? If so - why hadn’t someone stayed on guard at the club house like they said there would be? Had Jimmy found help and come to make good on his promise?

She slipped back inside and got dressed quietly. Apparently, Letty slept like the dead because she hadn’t moved except to snore softly.

Once dressed more appropriately for the scrapyard, Megan continued to look for someone - anyone - nearby. Chuckie wasn’t even in the office. The door to EZ’s trailer was wide open - but no sign of the prospect. Where was everyone?

She decided to make her way to the crusher. Someone had to be operating it. That meant someone was there. Who she’d find was a toss up.

Sure enough, she found Creeper running the crusher as she swept the area with her pistol.

“WOAH, Little Princess! Don’t shoot!”

“FUCK. Creeper! You scared the shit out of me! Where is everyone?” Megan holstered her weapon quickly.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Creep turned the car crusher off and Megan caught sight of the electric blue metal scraps inside.

She caught her breath in shock. “Did - Did you get him?” she asked breathlessly.

“Shhh. Settle down. Don’t panic on me. Deep breaths and I’ll tell you what I know. Breathe, Princess.” He watched her take a few deep breaths. “Good girl. C’mon. Let’s go sit down.” He led her to the little break area the guys had set up in the shade with some old car seats.

Once she was seated, she looked at him expectantly.

“Alright, alright. Don’t give me the puppy eyes. I told you I’d tell you, and I will.” He sat across from her and sighed as he rubbed across his bald scalp. “As far as I know they haven’t gotten him yet, but the last update was a few hours ago. Last night, a few of the guys went to meet up with Galindo’s head of security. He’d spotted Melton’s car parked at the motel near the diner in town. He couldn’t stop at the time to see if it was him, but he called anyway. Bishop and some of the guys went to check. As soon as they went into the diner, Melton cut out the back. Angel and EZ chased him, but he lost them. Bishop called for the tow and we took his car to keep him from running far. Stripped it for parts and crushed it. Now he ain’t got a way outta town. The guys are all in the streets looking for him while I took care of the car and Gilly guarded you girls.”

“I ain’t seen Gilly, Creep! I ain’t seen no one but you this morning and Letty is still passed out.” Megan looked alarmed and stood to rush back to the club house to check on the Mayan and the girl.

Creeper caught her. “Woah, there Little Princess. Don’t panic yet. Lemme call Gilly. He may have gone on a patrol around the walls and you just missed him. Relax a second.”

Creeper’s burner rang just then and he answered it. “Dude! Will you fucking chill?! I got la princessa here with me. Some guard you turned out to be. Yeah. We’re on our way.” He hung up with a long suffering sigh. “See. All good. Asshole went to take a leak and you disappeared on him. He’s as panicked as you are. C’mon. Let’s get back and get you fed before your pops has both our heads on a platter.”

Shortly after Creeper got Megan settled at a table with a cup of coffee, the roar of bikes was heard from outside. The rest of the club came in. The younger members were jostling each other jokingly as they made for the coffee pot. After looking them over to be sure they were whole, she noticed that the only one missing was Marcus.

“Good morning, Chica. Sleep alright?” Taza sank into the chair next to her.

“Yeah, though I think Letty could sleep through a nuclear bomb strike.” She smiled and pointed at the younger girl still passed out and snoring.

Coco overheard her and snorted. “You ain’t wrong, ma. She don't get that shit from me.” He walked over to gently shake the teenager awake.

Hank came over with two cups of coffee - one for him and one for Taza. “Morning Princessa. Have you had breakfast yet?”

Megan sipped her coffee and smiled up at the giant of a man. “Not yet. Creeper went to see if there was anything to make for breakfast since y’all normally don’t eat it. Apparently, I’m not allowed to cook it myself.”

Taza chuckled. “More like you aren’t allowed to be turned into a short order cook for this crew.”

She smiled a bit. “You guys are in an awfully good mood for having had your prey get away this morning. Something change since you updated Creeper?” She sipped her coffee again.

“You could say that. Good morning, Poquito.” Bishop joined their table with a shit eating grin.

“Good morning. Where’s Marcus? I thought no one was going to ride alone.”

“Cálmate. We got a call about an hour ago from one of our crews. They have a guy matching Jimmy Melton’s description locked down in the desert waiting for a Galindo crew to come pick him up. Marcus went to meet with Galindo’s man to be sure that we get first dibs and that we won’t be stepping on any toes taking care of him. Dogwood wanted to be sure that we knew they were the ones to find him and not Galindo.” Bishop sat back confidently and drank his coffee.

“Why would it step on Galindo’s toes? Jimmy’s got nothing to do with Galindo’s trade….” Megan was puzzled. She’d learned a lot about club business in the last few days since Taza refused to hide anything from her. THat included the fact that “Galindo” meant the Galindo cartel and the person that the club got their heroin from.

“Apparently the asshole works fast. He weaseled his way into one of Galindo’s street crews on a false recommendation.”

Megan paled. “Oh shit…”

“Don’t worry, Princessa. The worst that happens is that Galindo disposes of him himself rather than handing him over to us. We’re all good. Promise,” Hank soothed her carefully.

“And if he decides to side with Jimmy? You’ll have to hand me over. You can’t fight the cartel.”

“Fuck that shit. Won’t happen. Galindo don’t like liars and there’s no way his crew knows who Melton is. They just saw muscle who could be paid in drugs, Poquito. Nothing more. You’re safe.” Bishop reached across the table and patted her hand. “You’ll be completely free of the asshole by dark. I promise you.”

Creeper slipped out the kitchen door muttering. “Looks like Chuckie used all the eggs in cookies and shit last night, Princess. I’ll go get some more so he can make breakfast.”

“Nah - don’t worry about it, Creep. We ain’t gonna need them. We got the asshole locked down. He’s under lock and key with Dogwood currently.” Taza stood. “Let’s go get something to eat in town.”

“You sure, Taza? I can run and get her something…” Creeper said, rubbing his head.

Taza grinned and showed Creeper the picture of a beaten Jimmy tied to a chair. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

In town, the club practically took over the tiny diner they preferred. The waitresses didn’t seem to mind from the amount of buttons being undone on uniform tops. Megan snorted into her coffee as the older lady who was the manager tried to flirt with her dad. She was squeezed into a booth with Hank next to her and Taza just across the table.

Hank smiled and ignored the pleading look the older man shot him. If it made Megan giggle, Taza could deal with Patty’s flirtations. “What would you like, Princessa?” He handed her the menu with a smirk at Taza. “They’ll make you just about anything you want.”

Megan smiled as she looked the laminated paper over. “Ummm… pancakes sound good. Maybe some bacon?”

“You want fruit with that, honey?” Patty asked before batting her overdone eyes at Taza again.

“No, Patty. Keep the fruit far away from Megan’s food please. She’s allergic to pineapple.” Taza answered for her.

“Sure thing, Sweetheart. You want your usual?” She cocked her hip and smiled sweetly at him.

Megan covered her giggles with a cough this time.

“Sure, Patty. That’d be great. Thanks.”

After everyone had ordered there was a lot of seat changing as the guys struck up conversation. It didn’t really matter much since the waitresses knew them all by name anyway. They were all regulars at the club house bar.

Megan soon found herself alone with Hank. She smiled up at him a bit shyly. “I fell asleep on you again last night. Sorry.”

Hank chuckled. “You were supposed to fall asleep on me last night.” He sipped his coffee with a smile. “Next movie is in a theater though with dinner before it.”

She smiled again. “Oh really? And when did you plan for this to happen?”

He turned his body to face her. “Not real sure yet, but soon. You know it’s Thursday?”

She turned to put her back against the wall so she could look up at him better. “What happens on Thursday?”

“Every Thursday I have dinner with my mom at her place. She asked me to bring you along this week. You and your dad, but your dad has a bit of a standing invitation.”

“So… is this your way of asking me on a date?” She smirked a bit.

“This is me asking you to come meet my mother so that I CAN ask you on a proper date.” He chuckled. “Mama is practically planning our wedding already from how much she’s heard about you.”

Megan laughed. “You gotta earn that, but I’d love to meet Mama Loza.”

Patty came by with their food and a younger waitress came to refill Hank’s coffee cup. She blatantly ignored Megan while batting her eyes at the biker, so Hank took the coffee pot from her to refill Megan’s cup himself. Megan smiled and thanked him before looking at the younger waitress and shrugging. She couldn’t blame the girl. Hank was a handsome man and she’d known him longer than Megan had.

Hank caught Patty the next time she went by. “Hey Patty?”

“Yeah, Honey?” The motherly woman smiled at Hank.

“Do me a favor and remind your girls that ANY girl with a patch is either his girl or his kid and ignoring them has consequences, will ya? The next time Blondie over there ignores la princessa won’t be as pretty.”

Patty looked shocked. “Of course, Hank! No problem. Sorry about that.” The older woman promptly went to the other waitress and held a whispered conversation with her.

“You didn’t have to do that, Hank,” Megan said quietly. “I’m not someone who has earned respect in this town yet.”

“Princessa - you’re the daughter of a Mayan. Our VP, at that. And you and I are very obviously here together. No one in this town will mistreat you without repercussions. You are la princessa de los Mayas. THAT demands respect. Remember that.” He brushed a bit of hair from her face with a gentle finger and smiled.

The blonde clocked out shortly after that and Patty winked at Megan as she went by.

After breakfast, Marcus joined them. “¡Buenos días!” He was cheerful and Patty brought him coffee immediately.

Hank slid an arm along the back of the bench seat so that Megan could lean into his side for support. He’d seen her flinch when Marcus didn’t give them a positive answer as soon as he came in.

“So… what’s the verdict?” Taza asked Marcus.

Suddenly all the diner staff went into the kitchen. They knew that the club was about to talk business and wanted plausible deniability.

“We meet at the pew at seven tonight. Mr. Galindo has some questions of his own, so he’s not all ours but the result is the same.” Marcus said with a grin. “Only stipulation that he has - Megan has to ID him tonight before anything goes down. Galindo wants her to be completely aware that he’s off the streets.”

Hank growled. “She shouldn’t be there. It’s dangerous. What if something goes wrong?”

Taza sighed. “I agree, Hank, but if all she’s gotta do is ID him, I’ll take it. We can leave right after. She’ll have all of us there with her and we’ll keep her close and bail if things go sideways.”

Marcus nodded. “And if he so much as looks at her sideways or breathes in her general direction I will personally hold him down so you can start removing offensive parts.”

“She can leave after the ID?” Hank wanted confirmation from Bishop specifically. Not that he didn’t trust Alvarez, but Bishop was his president.

“Si, Hermano. She doesn’t even have to talk. Just a nod will do,” Bishop assured Hank.

Hank looked to Megan. “You okay with that? You ID him, then we go have dinner with Mom to celebrate your freedom?”

Megan looked around at the club. “Are YOU okay with that?” She waited for confirmation from all of them. She left Hank and Taza for last. “And you two? Are you okay with driving away and not seeing the result?”

Hank thought hard. Was he okay with trusting his brothers to get justice for his girl? Was he okay with not being the one to serve final justice? He didn’t kid himself. He wouldn’t walk away with clean hands. He’d get some hits in, but not to see him dead with his own eyes? He took a deep breath.

“What it there’s another way?” EZ asked. Angel promptly smacked him in the back of the head for speaking out of turn.

“Hey! For once let the Boy Scout speak…” Bishop said. “What other way?”

“Stage an accident to get rid of the body. Bet he hasn’t changed la princessa from his next of kin. She’d be called in to identify the body. She’d also still be eligible for his life insurance if he had any since the divorce isn’t final and he probably hasn’t removed her as the beneficiary. She had plausible deniability being at the Loza house for dinner too.” EZ shrugged and he turned to look at Megan. “Then you KNOW he’s dead. No ghosts to haunt you with doubt.”

Bishop nodded and looked at Megan too. “That what you’re worried about, Princessa?”

She shrugged a little. “A bit. Hoping it helps the panic of him stalking me.”

Hank nodded. “Yeah. That will satisfy me. Taza?”

“As long as he gets what he deserves and Megan is safe - yeah.”

“Good. We’ll meet at the club house then and ride over.” Bishop smacked the diner table. “Get some rest. See you tonight.”

As they left the diner, Hank kept Megan close. Taza noted the arm around her back and grinned. When they got to the bikes, Taza handed her helmet over to Hank. “Would you mind running la princessa home, Hank? I’ve got a meeting with the padre about christening plans.”

Sure. I’ll get her home and stick around until you get there.” Hank smiled down at Megan. “That okay with you, Princessa?”

She nodded a bit, but seemed off in her own world. She was obviously thinking hard about the plans for tonight.

Taza nudged her arm gently. “Hey, would you rather I came home with you? I can reschedule with the priest, Chica.”

She startled a bit. “Oh! No. I’ll be okay with Hank. Sorry,” she hugged Taza’s waist. “Ride safe.”

“Always. See you soon. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.” Taza mounted his bike and rode off towards the church.

Hank helped her put her helmet on and checked the strap before they headed to the ranch.

At home, Megan decided to shower so her hair would have time to dry before dinner.

“Go on, Princessa. I’ll be fine. Gonna call Mom and let her know when we’ll be there for dinner.”

“Ummm… what should I wear?” She awkwardly tugged at her band shirt. “I don’t exactly have nice ‘meet the parents’ clothes.”

Hank frowned. He hadn’t thought that she might be self-conscious about her wardrobe. He stepped close and gently lifted her chin so she’d look at him and not the scratched wooden floor. “Hey. Whatever you wear will be fine. We’ll count ourselves lucky if Mom isn’t in her muumuu.” That startled a giggle out of her. “You don’t need fancy clothes, Princessa. You’re beautiful in anything. Besides - we’re driving the bike anyway.”

She smiled and caught his wrist before he could lower the hand from her face. She held his hand there and placed a wisp of a kiss on his tattooed knuckles. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For keeping me calm today. For keeping me safe. For understanding.”

He gently stroked her jaw with the tips of his fingers. “Mi princessa. I’ve got you. Tonight’s going to be a LOT for you, but remember… I’ve got you. WE’VE got you. Tu familia. Always.” He slowly leaned down, giving her plenty of time to pull away, and placed a soft kiss right in the center of her forehead. He watched as tension melted off her shoulders and she finally relaxed. “Go get your shower, Princessa. I’ll be here.”

#lost princessa #hank loza #taza x daughter!oc #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc #che taza romero #megan x hank

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