#mayans mc x you

[bumblesimagines]

“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”

“i’d tap that.”

“your ass is your best quality.”

Angel Reyes

“who the fuck said that? you’re great.”

“i’d tap that.”

“your ass is your best quality.”

pronouns: they/them, gender neutral

reminder that i do have a ko-fi if anyone has ever wanted to tip me!

"Angel, what do you think of me?" It wasn't everyday you asked Angel Reyes for his opinion, but one disastrous date had left you feeling down and desperate for at least some comfort. Angel blinked at you, lips pressed to the rim of his bottle and brows slowly knitting in question. "Do you think I'm boring? Hopeless and destined for nothing?"

“Who the fuck said that? You’re great.” Angel scoffed and took one last swing of his beer, emptying the bottle completely and shoving it in the direction of the nearest prospect.

"I had a date last night and they said I was boring." You revealed in a mutter, a soft sigh slipping past your lips. Your first date in years and it ended with tears, wine, and ice cream. Angel winced.

"Fuck 'em. They don't know what their missing out on."

"What are they missing out on, Angel? I serve beers to criminals for a living and only have a one bedroom apartment to my name." You groaned and slumped down on the bar, face burying into your forearms. Angel exchanged a glance with the amused yet silent Ez beside him.

"Well, for starters, your ass is your best quality." Ez elbowed his side. "And, you have a great sense of humor. Besides, not everyone can serve beer to a motorcycle club and not piss themselves."

You laughed into your arms and lifted your head with a small smile. "My ass is my best quality."

"Exactly. I'd tap that."

"I'd be flattered but you'd fuck anything that breathes and has a hole, Angel."

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

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

Requests: Open

who i write for:

- Mayans MC

• Angel Reyes

• Ez Reyes

• Coco Cruz

• Nestor Oceteva

• Neron “Creeper” Vargas

• Bishop Losa

• Hank Loza

• Gilly Lopez

• Michael “Riz” Ariza

- Sons Of Anarchy

• Jax Teller

• Juice Ortiz

• Opie Winston

• Happy Lowman

• Herman Kozik

• Filip “Chibs” Telford

• Alexander “Tig” Trager

What i take requests for:

• Headcanons

• Preferences

• Would includes

• Most likely to’s

What i don’t take requests for:

• Smut

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

• Reader being related to any of the characters

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

any gifs used are not mine!

[ficnation]

Shadow of a Broken Heart - EZ Reyes x Reader

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

Word count: 1,4k+

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

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

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

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bullet-prooflove]

Problem Child: Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics

Sequel to Valeria

Ten minutes…

Ten minutes is what you allow yourself to grieve, to cry, to feel all of the emotions that are coursing through your system in the aftermath of the revelation that Angel has a daughter.

It’s agony, this feeling in your chest. You’ve felt it before after your Nana died and you feel it again as you sit in your car outside of Angel’s house. Your chest’s tight, and you think about that baby, left all alone on the porch, the same way you were all those years ago.

Anything could have happened. Someone else could have taken her, the two of you may have decided to go out instead, Angel may have come over to yours. Lord knows how long she could have been out there. These are the thoughts that ramble through your head as you sit there with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.

There is no doubt that the baby is Angel’s. You’ve seen pictures of him as a child and Valeria is the spitting image of him. You wonder where this leaves the two of you, if Skylar genuinely couldn’t cope or if she did this to teach him a lesson.

She’s your problem now… The letter had read.

Barely a couple of weeks old and already labelled a problem.

You think your mother must have said something similar to your Nana when she’d dropped you off.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks with the back of your hand, before tilting the rearview mirror to face you. You stare back at your reflection and take a deep breath.

You know what you have to do, someone needs to take control because you know right now that Angel isn’t in a condition to do it. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him, you know he’s not going to cope, not on his own. He needs some stability, someone who can remain firm, who can guide him when he falters.

You pick up your phone and thumb through the contacts until you find the name that you’re searching for.

“Felipe. It’s me.” You say when he picks up the phone. “Angel needs you.”

***

You’re not coming back. Angel knows that and it devastates him. It feels like his whole life is crashing down around his head, like he can’t catch a second to breath. He cradles the baby to his chest, his lips brushing over her soft skin. He has to push all of that aside, he has to think about Valeria because she has to be his priority right now.

His gaze comes to rest on his father. Felipe is seated at the kitchen table, the letter from Skylar clasped in his hands as he studies it.

“Lila’s not coming back.” Angel says quietly.

“Give her time.” Felipe says as he sets the letter down. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Angel shakes his head because he knows this is too much. He can’t ask you to take on a baby. The two of you have never talked about kids. He didn’t know if you wanted them or not. He figured there would be plenty of time to figure that out later.

He’s surprised when he hears the key in the lock. You mutter a curse as your hip bumps against the door handle, crossing over the threshold with a bassinet tucked under your arm and several bags filled with God knows what.

“Give Valeria here.” Felipe says, raising to his feet and reaching out for the baby. “Go help her.”

He’s already in motion, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he catches one of the bags just as it slips from your grasp. He takes note of the diapers and formula, before he takes the bassinet from you.

“I managed to get this stuff from Carmen, she keeps a bunch of it aside for new parents who are struggling to make ends meet.” You explain as you haul the other bags with you into the kitchen. “Bishop was there, he had a lot of questions, but I told him you’d call him tomorrow. He seemed to be ok with that.”

Angel doesn’t even know where to begin. The words catch in his throat and there’s an ache in his chest as he looks at you because even now, you’re still taking care of him, not just him but Valeria too.

“I think we have everything we need for tonight.” You say as you set the bags down on the table. “I can get the rest of the stuff on my list when the stores open up in the morning.”

“I thought…”

“I needed a minute.” You tell him quietly. “You know what happened to me, Valeria being dropped off like that…” You don’t have to say anything else. Angel gets it and so does Felipe. “I want to be there for her and for you. I want to be part of this little family.”

“Are you sure?” he asks you quietly, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek.

You nod your head before your arms wrap around his waist and you draw him close. It feels good to have you back in his arms, he finds the gesture reassuring. You’ve always been a port in a storm for him and the fact you’re here right now soothes him more than he would ever admit to anybody else.

“Yea.” You tell Angel, your fingertips toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I want this, I want this with you.”

“Ok Mi Reina.” Angel murmurs as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Let’s do it. Let’s be a family.”

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

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Your Biker in Worn Leather

Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader

Category: Angst/Comfort

Word count: 353

Summary: You call EZ to pick you up and his temper goes through the roof at the state you’re in.

Warnings: Mentions of cuts, scratches, and bruises

Part 2

Masterlist

Taglist

Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.

“Can you please come and get me?” Those words played on loop in EZ’s head, he couldn’t get the sound of your scared voice out of his head. You didn’t tell him what happened or if you were hurt, only where to pick you up from.

Ezekiel was quick to jump on his bike and speed to your location. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, mind racing a mile a second thinking about all the possible scenarios you could be in. By the time EZ finally found you on the side of the street, it was pouring rain and you had no rain coat or umbrella to shield you. As EZ took off his helmet and goggles, he noticed you were shaking and that’s when you immediately raced towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, not giving him the chance to get off his bike. EZ’s arms instinctively enveloped you in a tight embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. Neither one of you cared that you were getting drenched and could possibly end up with a cold tomorrow. You needed him, his safety, his protection, and you needed him as close as possible. EZ allowed the hug to last a few more moments. “Let’s get you dry, okay?” He spoke softly, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded against his shoulder before pulling yourself out of his arms. As you did so, EZ caught sight of the state you were in, a busted lip, bruises decorating your arms, and a red cheek. EZ’s blood boiled more and more as he saw each bruise, scratch, and cut littering your body. “Who did this to you?” He blurted out, causing you to jump at his stern tone and clenched jaw. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know who did this to you?” He apologized before asking again, this time in a calmer tone.

You knew exactly who did this, and you knew EZ would revel in setting the score.

General Taglist: @kmc1989

EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight

[drabbles-mc]

Sugar

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol

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

Prompt: petals

Word Count: 423

A/N: I miss prepping craft projects for my students and somehow we ended up here 😂

You were sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath the coffee table in your living room while you worked. The television was on but you weren't really paying it any mind as you cut out flower petals from construction paper, preparation for crafts with your students the next day. 

Above the white noise of the television, and the satisfying sound of your scissors gliding through the paper, was the sound of Angel's voice as he vented to you about what had gone down in Templo earlier that afternoon. 

“I swear to god,” he said as he went to the fridge to grab himself a beer, “I wish we were kids so I could dribble his head like a fuckin’ basketball the way I used to.” He popped the cap off the bottle and took a sip. “Bounce that shit right off the floor,” he said as he mimed a dribbling motion with his free hand. He looked over at you. “I think I could still do it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you kept your eyes trained on the paper in front of you. “Physically? Yeah, you probably could. But do you really think it'd solve anything?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed as he came and stood by the coffee table, neck craned down so he could watch you work. “Knock some brain cells back into place.”

You shook your head again with a knowing smile. “It's like I tell my students– you get more with sugar than–”

“Than you do with shit,” he finished with a sigh. “I know but I don't think I buy that shit, querida.”

You finally looked up at him. “Salt.”

His brows knit in confusion. “What?”

“You get more with sugar than you do with salt, Angel.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I'm pretty sure–”

You set the scissors down and leaned back slightly. “You think I'd say ‘you get more with sugar than you do with shit’ to my students? My elementary students?”

A smile quirked the end of his mouth. “I mean, it's still true.”

You didn't want to laugh but you couldn't help yourself. With a loving roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to come and sit with you. “Come down here and help me out with this, will you?”

He didn't put up a fight as he plopped down beside you. “Tryin’ to distract me,” he said with a smirk. 

You leaned over and pressed a kiss against his jaw before handing him his own pair of scissors. “Sugar instead of salt.”

[garbinge]

Motion Sick

Angel Reyes x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “I don’t usually get motion sick but— oh, I think I’m gonna puke.” A/N: Hope you’re enjoying the fic a day challenge with me! Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Fluffy but light angst.

Mayans MC Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705

It was the middle of the day and you were traveling back home from a club errand with Angel. You might’ve had the day off but Angel didn’t and you figured if you were gonna snag anytime with him alone this was going to be it. Things had been busy between the club and the scrapyard. There wasn’t even a point in asking Angel if the errand he was running was for either because it likely had to do with both. All you knew is Angel had mentioned needing to take a ride to Santa Ana in the morning before he left your house and you met him at the clubhouse and hopped in the passenger seat of the van without any argument on his side. 

Angel didn’t mind the company, if anything he enjoyed it. These days it was rare you two got to do anything together besides roll over and shake the other to shut off the alarm so taking a ride together was like a date on the town for you. 

The ride up was smooth and quick, both of you wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible so that the rest of the day was your own without any responsibilities lingering over your head. The way back was more enjoyable. Angel took the long way back down the Pacific Coast Highway to give some romance to the trip, opting to stop at a whale watching point because he really wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. It was nice, it was something that had been missing between you two lately and this was his way of acknowledging it. 

As you got back on the road you started to fidget in the passenger seat. Finding a comfortable position was making itself hard as you moved around. 

“You alright? You can’t sit still.” Angel looked over at you as you switched to your 4th position in the last minute. 

“Yea, just feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.” You frowned and leaned forward to grab the handle that would easily adjust the seat back in hopes that would help. 

“You think it was the lookout dock? The waves and shit making you sick?” The worry grew in his voice as he slowed down on the highway, taking the opportunity to look at you longer verse the road to get a better understanding about what was going on. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. We were on solid foundation not like a dock or anything that was moving. Maybe I’m just getting antsy from the ride.” You brushed off his concern.

“Look, maybe you just need a break, we can stop and get some fuckin’ food or some shit.” Angel was starting to argue with you now, not out of spite, but from a genuine place. “You’re probably just motion sick. We’ve been in this van for a minute.” He had already begun to pull over at whatever food stop was coming up before you could put up a fight but it didn’t stop you from trying. 

“I don’t usually get motion sick,” your hand lifted to wave him off to continue driving until you almost immediately brought it to your mouth, “oh– I think I’m gonna puke.” 

Luckily the car was stationary as you opened the passenger door and vomited out of it. Angel thinking quickly to lean over and pull anything out of the way of your upchucking. 

“Damn querida. I thought you didn’t get motion sick.” He said when you finally stopped and used one of the napkins that was shoved in the side pocket of the car to wipe your mouth off. As he spoke you turned to him and lifted your middle finger which made him laugh. 

“I feel like shit.” You closed your eyes and leaned back in the seat. 

“You need anything? I’ll get the food to go, we can grab a spot in the grass or something, I’m sure we got a blanket somewhere back here.” Angel went into full solution mode. 

“If I sit on any blanket that’s in this van I’ll end up sicker than I am right now.” You let out a chuckle and let your head fall to the left to stare at Angel. He was on edge, you could tell. His arm was on the steering wheel and his body was twisted to look back at you. “Why don’t we find a convenient store, like a CVS or Rite Aid or some shit, I think I’ll get better if I get my hands on a gatorade and some saltines.” 

Angel was moving in seconds, he had put the car in drive and you were about to argue it but he spoke up. “I’m just moving it up a couple feet so you don’t step in your own vomit.” His smiled openly. 

“Angel the angel.” You teased him as you stepped out the van. 

The convenient store was close, it was a matter of minutes before you both entered the air conditioned building that was playing some top 40’s radio station through the speakers. The cold breeze already had you feeling better, the club van didn’t exactly have the best AC for an old overused vehicle. 

“Grab what you want, I’m gonna see if I can get you some of that motion sickness shit from the pharmacy, half the shit on the PCH is behind lock and key.” Angel placed a quick kiss on your head before walking towards the medicine aisle. “Oh and maybe pick up some Listerine or toothpaste!” His whole body turned around as he kept walking backwards with his nose scrunched up. 

That earned him another middle finger and a headshake, although, you knew he was right. Toothpaste and a toothbrush was the first thing you were grabbing on your way to grab the essentials but he didn’t need to be annoying about it. 

As you entered the toiletry aisle your eyes scanned the shelves. Mouthwash was first, and while it was a viable option, you knew brushing your teeth would be a greater benefit for both of you. As your eyes moved to the toothpaste, you saw the travel brush and paste kit and grabbed the first one you saw before walking down the rest of the aisle. You browsed the rest of the aisle, taking your time not wanting to leave the cooled store anytime soon. As you looked around your eyes stopped on a box of tampons. That’s when it hit you like a tons of bricks. The speed at which you took your phone out your backpocket was unmatched, all just for your thoughts to be confirmed by the date displaying on your phone. You were late. 

Without a second thought you grabbed the pink box that was to the right of the pads and tampons and flew to the bathroom. Luckily it was on the opposite side of where the pharmacy was so there was no chance you were going to run into Angel. 

3 minutes was beginning to feel like 3 days with how long it was taking. You had grabbed the digital test, which was likely the more expensive one but at this point you didn’t care. You stood over the sink staring at the flashing lines waiting for words to pop up on it. You could’ve taken the time to brush your teeth but you felt like if you took your eyes off the test, you’d miss something. 

You heard the digital beeping and the words appeared across the screen. 

Pregnant. 

“Holy shit.” 

You weren’t exactly sure how to feel but before you could really even process it, you were stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the aisles for Angel. 

He was in the toy section, gatorade and saltines in one hand and a squishmallow in the other. 

“Hey look! It kinda looks like Sally right? I know it’s a seal but they got the same fuckin’ eyes.” Angel held up the gray stuffed animal and compared it to his little brother’s dog. 

As you walked over to him and said nothing his smile started to fade. 

“You get sick again?” He asked a follow up question. 

Without saying anything you held up the pregnancy test for him to see. It took him a couple seconds to process what you were showing him before he was picking you up in the air in celebration. The squeal that left your mouth was full of shock but the laugh that came after was genuine. Angel was clearly excited about this and that sent a wave of relief through you that let you enjoy this. 

“Alright, alright, put me down you’re gonna make me sick again!” You spoke through another laugh. 

“What happened, I thought you don’t get motion sick.” His voice got deeper as he mocked you and put you down. 

“Yea I don’t, but apparently your kid does.” 

Angel’s smile grew even bigger at that sentence. You leaned over and grabbed the squishmallow from him and made your way to the front of the store to pay for everything you two had gathered up. 

“We gettin’ that?!” Angel lightly jogged to catch up to you. 

“Baby’s first toy?” You squished it against your front in a hug. 

Angel brought you into his side, throwing his arm around you as he left a soft his on the crown of your head. 

“Yea, baby’s first toy.” 

[bumblesimagines]

"You're always so quick to defend them. What's the real reason behind your loyalty?"

"How convenient, showing up whenever they need you."

- EZ Reyes

"You're always so quick to defend them. What's the real reason behind your loyalty?"

"How convenient, showing up whenever they need you."

pronouns: they/them, gender neutral

You considered yourself to be rather laidback when it came to exes. You chose your partners carefully and deliberately, ensuring the relationship wouldn't end up being a waste of time. It's why you'd been so certain about Ezekiel Reyes.

The sweet, charismatic biker caught your eye the moment he'd sauntered into the courthouse as a prospect. He appeared humble and thoughtful, taking his duties as prospect seriously and often helping you tend to the bar whenever possible. You knew his past from the other members. A young man set on avenging his mom faced the consequences of accidentally shooting an officer. His story had been gut-wrenching and you sympathized with him.

But, as you looked through the trailer's window and watched him speak with Emily Galindo, you wondered if you had made the right choice.

"How convenient," You murmured as Ez entered the trailer and tossed his gloves aside. "Showing up whenever I need you."

"She has no idea it's your birthday, (Y/N). Don't be like that."

"Don't be like what, Ezekiel?" You snapped and he blinked, leaning back slightly at the irritated tone lacing your voice. Sally stirred beside you, a soft whine emitting from her throat. You ran your hand over her soft fur and inhaled sharply, attempting to ease your growing anger.

"Em's done nothing to you. I don't get why you hate her so much." You took another deep breath and rubbed the bridge of your nose at his words. For a guy known for his intelligence and quick-thinking, he sure was clueless when it came to his little ex.

"You're always so quick to defend her. What's the real reason behind your loyalty? Because that little blonde brat doesn't give a shit about you, Ez."

His brows knitted and a frown stretched out on his face. "Don't call her that-"

"Oh, my god." You breathlessly laughed and stood up, snatching your phone and wallet from the table. You shook your head, almost in disbelief, and faced him.

"If you want to be her little servant so badly, go for it. Don't come crying back to me when she keeps choosing her husband over you."

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

pov: you’re on vacation with ez reyes 🌊

[ficnation]

Chapter 2: The Guilt She Bears

Series: “She” Word count: 2,5k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader; Past! Angel Reyes x Luisa Espina Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5 episode 7, mayans mc typical warnings A/n: I’m starting to enjoy all of this angst muahaha

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

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A few days have passed since Luisa’s death. Angel tries to return to the life he once knew, but it isn’t easy. He tries not to think about Luisa, but the apartment they once shared reminds him of her every second of the day. Every moment he spends there makes it harder not to reach for a bottle of cheap whiskey and the company of another woman.

One day he shows up at your doors, hastily packed bags in his hands as he supports Maverick’s bottom with one muscular arm. Angel’s fist shakes as he raises it to knock on your door. The sound echoes in his ears. He wonders if you’re even home, he forgot to text you before getting in the car, but something in his heart tells him you will be there. You’re always close when he needs you.

As Angel waits, staring intently at the door, each minute feels like an hour. The weight of worry and anticipation seems to become physically tangible. Finally, his impatience wins, and the man reaches for the doorknob, but the door is slowly pushed open from inside before he can make contact.

The door opens just an inch so you can peer out at the intruder with a grimace. You look exhausted, your hair is all over the place, and your eyes tell him you haven’t slept in a while. You give the impression of someone who has been through hell and is struggling to survive. On top of all that, you seem stressed and worn out, ready to give in at any moment. Angel knows he doesn’t look much better, but seeing you like that still worries him.

The grimace falls from your face when you recognize him, and you open the door wider. You see the bags he’s holding in his hands as he stands before you, your expression turning into one of pure confusion.

“Angel? What are you doing here?” you ask him with a raspy voice. You notice Maverick in his other arm. The baby looks just as tired as his father, his big brown eyes drooping sleepily.

“Please, can I come in?” His voice is pleading even though he knows you’d never refuse him that.

You nod, stepping back out of the way to let him in. He can feel your eyes studying him intently as he walks inside. You watch his every move, every breath, and every blink.

“What’s going on?” You grab Maverick from his arms, holding him against your chest as you kiss the crown of his head softly.

Angel heads over to the couch and sets his bags next to it, letting himself fall onto the furniture heavily. He ignores your question for now, and you refrain from asking again, focusing instead on the child in your hold.

“Is he okay? Does he feel better?” you question, observing the little boy. He’s so quiet and tired. You wonder if he can’t sleep without his mommy, if he can sense her absence in his life.

“He’s okay. Just doesn’t sleep well lately,” your friend explains with a deep sigh.

“Oh… poor baby,” you say to Maverick, caressing his soft hair. The child presses his face into the crook of your neck, grabbing your shirt in his tiny fists. You turn your gaze back toward Angel. “What’s in all those bags?”

He doesn’t respond to that question, instead cutting right to the point. “I can’t be there anymore. Everything reminds me of her,” the man confesses, his eyes pleading.

You pause, trying to understand what he’s asking. “You want to... live here?” you finally say, your expression conveying your confusion. It’s not something you had anticipated. It hasn’t even crossed your mind.

Angel nods, shamefully hanging his head. “Please, it’s either you or my dad.”

You bite your bottom lip, noticing how abashed he is to ask you this. Angel has always been so strong and independent that you never expected him to need you this much. Even when he was at his worst, drinking himself into oblivion, he has never turned up to your door asking for a place to stay. Not even once. He was always the one making sure you were alright. But you know the circumstances are different this time.

“Angel,” you begin, and the man sitting on your couch prepares for you to say no. “You know that you’re always welcome here.”

He sighs in relief, some of the tension disappearing from his muscles as he slumps down against the couch. He thanks you wordlessly with an appreciative nod of his head.

“What about your dad?” you inquire, meeting his tired brown eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to live with him, but he’s old, you know. He needs his sleep and I don’t wanna be a burden,” your friend explains. “Not that I’m not gonna be a burden to you but—”

You cut him off before he can doubt himself even more and try to explain something that doesn’t need to be explained. “No, no, Angel, you’re not a burden. Trust me,” you reassure him, “you and Maverick are more than welcome here.”

You know their company might help you too. You have been lonely lately more than ever. The nights seemed too long and restless as you kept overthinking every little thing—the guilt swallowing your whole being, drowning you in its darkness. You kept thinking day and night—what could you’ve done to save Luisa, what could you’ve done to take her place and die that night instead of her.

“I’m not sure where I’ll be in a few months. My lease is almost up. But for right now, and as long as you need it to be, my home is your home.” You look down at Maverick, who’s fallen asleep in your arms, the corner of your lips arching as you kiss his head softly.

A faint smile crosses Angel’s face as he watches the two of you together. It’s painful to know his mommy will never hold him like that again—will never kiss him like that again, but he cherishes the fact that at least you’re there for him and his son. You bring them the comfort—the love they need so desperately right now.

“I have a spare room.” Your voice breaks through Angel’s thoughts. His eyes follow you as you step toward the archway and nod your head in the direction of one of the doors across the corridor.

You can feel the nervousness radiating off him when he follows you. He’s uneasy at the prospect of crashing here, at your house. It’s not like he hasn’t been here before—he has—many times, sometimes with Luisa or Maverick and other times by himself, but he’s never spent the night.

“I don’t have a crib, but we can arrange something. Get the one from your house or get a new one,” you offer, opening the wooden door and stepping inside. You make a gesture with your hand to bring Angel’s attention to the room.

He looks around curiously. The room isn’t too fancy, but it’s cozy and bright. There’s a bed, a small dresser, and other minor furniture. The walls are a light blue color, with a few clouds painted onto them to give the feel of a dreamlike peace. You can tell that Angel likes it by the way he takes it all in with sparkling eyes, the corner of his mouth curving up.

“I can bring it. I planned on that,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I knew you wouldn’t have those stuff.” He sets the bags down by the wall, the tips of his fingers trailing over one of the painted-on clouds.

Maverick fusses in his sleep, still cuddled up to your body. You hum softly, caressing his back. “He’s finally getting some good sleep,” you whisper, a smile crossing your face.

“He feels safe with you.”

Angel’s words are simple, but nevertheless, they stir something inside your heart. Something you’ve buried deep within a long time ago.

The two of you remain silent for a few more minutes. You take in the fact that your friend will be living with you, sharing your space—your mornings, evenings, and nights. The thought of it makes you feel peaceful in a way you haven’t felt before.

“We can take out the mattress from the bed frame and place it in the corner of the room,” you propose, making Angel look at you confused. You roll your eyes at him. “So Maverick doesn’t roll off the bed,” you explain further.

“Yeah, that’s smart,” he agrees, nodding his head at your idea. It feels like his mind is somewhere else.

Your eyes soften, and you giggle softly as the realization hits you. Angel’s head is in the clouds, almost literally. “Well, my hands are kinda busy, so you have to figure it out yourself.”

It takes your words a minute to reach the man. He shakes his head and looks at you, confused. You repeat the sentence, and Angel chuckles softly—the tension relieved by a bit of humor. Just like when you first met him, your heart can’t help but soften at the sight of his smile.

“Oh, you’re funny. Just wait until I’m holding Maverick,” he says, moving past you toward the bed.

He kneels down in front of it and tries to lift it up without success. You notice his struggle and almost let out a very unladylike snort, but you catch it at the last second, not wanting to wake the baby in your arms. Angel doesn’t look like he wants to ask you for help—his manly pride is not allowing it in this matter.

Knowing fully well he won’t be able to figure it out on his own—you decide to save him the embarrassment. “It’s attached to the bed frame. You have to reach underneath and pull the elastic loose,” you guide him, amusement in your eyes.

Angel listens to your instructions and reaches under the bed. He feels out the elastic and begins to pull at it. It takes some effort, but he’s successful in freeing the mattress. He straightens up and lifts it off the bed frame, placing it in the corner of the room.

His brown eyes look down at his little son, cuddled up in your arms. “He looks comfy,” he says softly. “He’s still asleep?”

You walk up to the mattress and place Maverick in the middle, the mattress barely dipping beneath his weight. “Sleeps like a rock. Just like his daddy.”

“So small,” Angel whispers quietly, his eyes glued to the boy’s tiny body—to his clenched fists and his small chest, rising with every steady breath, to his round pink cheeks and the little waves of his hair. His little miracle.

You look back at your friend, tears prickling in your eyes. You know you can both see so much of her in Maverick. The resemblance to his mommy was painfully evident. It was hard for both of you to look at his innocent face and be reminded of what you’ve lost.

Angel notices the tears threatening to escape your eyes. He feels responsible, knowing his presence has indirectly brought you to tears. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes in a whisper, his hand reaching out to gently caress your arm.

“No, I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting just as much as I do.” You wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt. You stand straight, stepping out of Angel’s reach and nodding at him in appreciation.

“Do you want to get some rest? You look like hell,” you say, glancing at him.

He still hasn’t taken his kutte off; he looks exhausted and worn down. But he still refuses with a shake of his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

You know it’s a lie, but you don’t push.

“Come on, I will make us some tea.”

You walk into the kitchen, Angel rubbing his temples in an attempt to relieve the headache he caused himself by the lack of sleep and food. You take out two mugs from one of the cupboards above as your friend moves to lean on the counter beside you.

“How are you holding up?” He can easily guess the answer to this question, but he still lets it slip out of his mouth, concern in his voice.

You’ve known Luisa for years; you’ve known her before Angel has even joined her world. The lack of her quiet presence in your life is devastating—sometimes, it just makes you want to blow your brains out. But you know you wouldn’t be able to do that—not when you had people who still loved you and needed you there. And you know Angel is one of them; he cares about you probably more than he cares about himself. The two of you have grown much closer after Luisa’s death. In the span of those few days, you became each other’s lifelines.

“Just getting through, I guess... I miss her a lot.” You let out a deep sigh. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s been hard. Especially—” Angel pauses; he hesitates, unsure if it’s something he should share with anyone. He clears his throat, his voice breaking slightly. “Seeing him… It’s a constant reminder.”

You sense the pain in his words, the struggles he goes through every day. It kills you to hear it. You squeeze his hand in yours for a second, wordlessly showing him your support.

You can tell the conversation took its toll on Angel. He remains nearby, not wanting to leave your side. You fill the kettle and place it on the stove, turning around to lean against the counter next to your friend.

“I miss her,” the man admits; he wraps his tattooed arms around himself. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I thought I was just dreaming.”

“It’s tough,” you nod in understanding.

“I always knew someday we would have to say goodbye. I always knew that,” Angel continues, his eyes gazing off into the distance. “But I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

He turns his attention to you. You can see that there are so many things he wants to get off his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start. You reach for his hand to hold it in yours, to comfort him. You wish you had the ability to make it all better, but there’s not much you can offer him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles out, his voice so shy and quiet you can barely hear him. “I’m sorry that you have to be here for me when I’m like this.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Angel.” You squeeze his hand to make him look you in the eyes. “I want to be there for you.”

You watch as his eyes fill with so much love and gratitude. He looks like he wants to pull you close, hold you in his arms, and cry it all out. But he fights it, trying his best to stay afloat.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d be miserable by yourself. Now, at least you have some company,” you joke, trying to change the topic. It was starting to be too much; you could feel the darkness of guilt crawling up the walls of your brain. You couldn’t save her. You did nothing to save her.

[dallianceangel]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 💔😭

Here’s another drabble for you, a sad one at that. 💔

💔 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💔

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Angel asks, feeling physically sick. He knew you and him had reached the end of the road ages ago, but he never imagined the man you’d leave him for would be a fellow Mayan.

“Yes,” you reply, warm tears streaming down your face.

You’re expecting Angel to launch at him, but all he does is turn around and storm out of the clubhouse.

“He’ll never forgive us,” You sigh, hearing him start up his bike before riding away.

Bishop pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against yours.

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: King - Angel Reyes x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @deliriousfangirl61 @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @thanossexual @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @wnbweasley @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @spookyboogyuniverse @skyesthebomb @spaghettificationandpretzels @joyfulfxckery @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @justreblogginfics @vermillionwinter

Hitting the Lace Bingo Square

Angel has you sitting on the edge of the bed, your wrists bound behind your back and a black silk eyemask drawn down over your eyes. You’re wearing royal blue lace tonight; it highlights your skin giving you almost ethereal look. His thumb trails over your lower lip, dragging it down before he murmurs the words.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful Mi Reina.”

He tilts your chin up, and you can feel the heat of his body as he leans in close, his mouth brushing over yours. His lips are hot, almost searing as his tongue dips into your mouth. Your body responds to him, arching up as he grips your jaw, holding you in place. You whine when he pulls away and he smiles because his reina needs him just as much as he needs her.

He kneels before you, placing his palms on your bare thighs, parting them before he guides them over his shoulders.

You can feel his breath ghosting over the damp lace, his beard grazing along your inner thighs. His fingertips slip under the elastic, teasing along your wetness. It’s nothing more than a brief caress but your hips buck towards his mouth, and he just can’t help himself. He tugs your underwear to one side revealing your nakedness and his cock fucking twitches.

You have such a pretty cunt; he’s always thought so, and he can’t wait to get his mouth on it.

When he kisses you there, your breathing hitches. His tongue traces lightly over your clit before he sucks just slightly, making you breathe his name out loud. His tongue delves lower, pressing at your entrance, he holds it there and you whimper, trying to fuck it but he holds you in place lapping over it over and over again until you finally say the word he’s been waiting to hear.

“Please.”

He raises to his feet, cupping your chin once more before he removes the blindfold so he can see those beautiful eyes of yours.

“Does Mi Reina need her king?”

“Please.” You say again and he kisses you, his hand tangling in your hair as his tongue delves deep into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and it’s such a sensual feeling, sharing yourself with your lover.

He undresses for you, his eyes locked on yours as he removes his clothes until he’s entirely bare for you, his cock hard and leaking.

“Stand up.” He requests and you follow his instructions, raising to your feet. He draws your underwear down before he sits on the edge of the bed and guides you into his lap. He holds you steady, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you let out a moan as he fills you.

“Move for me.” He tells you, his voice rough. “I wanna see you fuck it.”

He lies back, his gaze on that sexy ass of yours as he watches his cock disappear inside of you. Fuck you feel good, the way that perfect pussy of yours grips him, it makes him feel like he’s died and gone straight to heaven. Every single one of your breathes comes with a sweet little noise but it’s not enough for Angel. He needs you loud, he wants the people in the room two doors down to know how good he fucks his woman.

His hands come to rest on your waist. He rolls his hips, thrusting deep and the sound that leaves your mouth…

That’s exactly what he wants to hear.

“That’s it Mi Reina…” he drawls, one of his hand grabbing the slender chain between your wrists and tugging it down so your back arches and you take him that little bit deeper. “That’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

He fucks you hard, his cock raking across that perfect place deep down inside of you, the one that makes you scream for him. He feels your climax coming, it’s in the way your body starts to tense, your movements becoming more frantic. The ecstasy rushes through his veins as you come for him. You clench around his cock, your walls hugging it so tightly that Angel sees fucking stars. He keeps your hips pinned against his, burying himself deep as he spills his release inside of you.

“Fuck.” He mutters, sitting up so your back comes to rest against his chest. His lips chase up the curve of your throat as he unbinds your wrists. “I think you managed to ruin both of us.”

You tip your head back into the hollow of his throat and laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, one that vibrates through his entire body as he wraps his arms around you and gathers you close. His thumb chases over the scar just underneath your rib cage, the place where Skye shot you all those months ago and he’s reminded of how close he was to losing you.

“I love you.” He whispers, holding you just that little bit tighter. “I love you so God damn much.

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

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism

Bishop Losa x fem!reader

Word count- 1.2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, public sex, hint at a bj,dirty talk, praise kink, cum eating, reader wears short shorts and a low cut top, no use of y/n

Notes- I had SO much fun writing this one y'all have no idea! And it was something a little different for me too! Prompt list made by me. Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“Nice shot, baby,” Bishop purred as you sank another ball in the net.

The two of you played pool in the clubhouse while everyone else gathered and drank and laughed. Angel and Coco played darts in the corner, and they squabled like siblings when each thought the other was losing. Visitors from other chapters of the Mayans filled the clubhouse, and everyone was having a great time.

But all Bishop could focus on was you. How sexy you looked when you bent over the pool table to take your shot. How your brow furrowed in concentration, your determination to beat him apparent on your face. How your breasts started to spill out of your top. How your shorts were just short enough to show a little hint of asscheck, something Bishop always loved.

Vaguely, you were aware of Bishop's heavy gaze on you, but you were too focused on your shot to put your full attention to. You cursed under your breath when you missed your next shot, but when you turned to him next to you, your heart pounded in your chest. Sweat lined your brow, and it wasn’t just from the heat inside the space.

Bishop eyed you up and down with a smirk on his face, “Baby you’re so fuckin’ sexy when you care about a stupid game of pool like that,” his tone was low as he sauntered towards you, closing the space between your bodies and settling slightly behind you.

“Bish,” you couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped your lips as he caressed your hips and pressed his body against yours. But, as he grasped your ass, giving it a little smack, you let out a low moan that would have caught the attention of anyone nearby if it weren’t for a roar of laughter that erupted at the same time.

“I bet I could fuck you with my fucking fingers right here and no one would notice,” Bishop groaned into your ear as he nibbled on your neck and a hand dripped under the hem of your shorts.

“You what?!” you were caught off guard by his words. But, as he tickled your pussy every so slightly, you found any care you might have had vanished.

“Do you want me to, baby?” Bishop purred, “You want me to fuck you with my fingers right here? Let anyone who might notice see you cum on my fuckin’ fingers?”

If you said the word, Bishop would pull away, albeit he would definitely take you into a closet or bathroom and fuck you in private instead. You felt his hardening cock against your thigh and you let out another moan. The room spun as you thought it over, “I want you to,” you finally whispered as you turned your head and kissed him deeply.

“Let me hear you say it, sweetheart,” he murmured as he bucked his hips against your body and sank his hand lower into your shorts, feeling the warmth of your cunt under his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers… Right here,” your tone was low and sultry and dripped with need, “And let anyone watch as you make me cum.”

“That’s my girl,” Bishop growled as he suddenly dove two fingers into your pussy.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and lurched forward to grab onto the pool table for balance. Bishop stayed close, using his body to support you from behind as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck baby… So wet for me.”

All you could do was moan as your body quickly warmed from his touch. 

Bishop wrapped his other arm around your body and cupped at your breast through your shirt, rubbing at your nipple through the fabric, “Does it turn you on, sweetheart?” he asked in a deep voice, “That anyone could look over and see you like this?”

“Y-yes,” you admitted in a whisper.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, “Anyone could look over here and see how fucking sexy you look like this,” he thrust his fingers more roughly into you, hitting spots deep inside you, “But they can only see your face, baby… This fucking pussy,” he gave another harsh thrust, “Is mine.”

“Yours,” you moaned as you saw stars. You gripped the table so hard you almost felt like it could break under your grasp, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care about anything else other than how good Bishop fucked you with his fingers, and how much you craved your release.

“That’s my good girl,” Bishop praised as his rubbed your clit with his thumb, “So fuckin’ good taking my fingers right here in the fucking clubhouse.”

“Bish…”

Suddenly he froze. When you let out a whine, he murmured your name, “Looks like we caught someone’s attention, baby.”

You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, noticing a prospect from the other chapter across the room. His eyes bore into you and his thoughts were easy to read from the look on his face. His jaw clenched and he had a grip on his beer bottle so tight that he might shatter at any second.

“Why don’t we give him a show?” you purred as you turned and gave Bishop a heated kiss.

“I fucking love you, baby,” Bishop chased your lips when you broke away and kissed you once more before he started thrusting his fingers into you once more.

You moaned loudly against his lips as you rested your head on his shoulder, surrendering yourself to the Mayan completely. Your mind swam as you felt your orgasm quickly build from Bishop hitting your sweet spot over and over again while his thumb grazed your clit.

“He can watch, baby,” Bishop growled as he picked up his pace, “But he can’t have you,” his tone dropped as his grip on you tightened, “You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours… Yes… Fuck…”

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me,” Bishop groaned as he felt your inner muscles clench around his fingers, “Show that fucking prospect what he can’t have.”

With that, you came hard with a scream. Your entire body trembled as you fought to keep yourself upright against the pool table, and you felt yourself gush onto Bishop’s fingers. He talked you through your climax, mumbling praises and curses in your ear as you rode out your high on his fingers.

The only reason no one else noticed was because the prospect snapped his beer bottle in his head the moment you screamed, and everyone else was too busy watching him to notice what you and Bishop were up to on the other side of the room. Some of the others cursed and berated the prospect, but a fierce look from Bishop kept him quiet about why he suddenly caused a scene.

“That’s my good girl,” Bishop cooed your ear in a softer tone as he pulled out of you, “So fucking sexy,” he added as he turned you to face him and made you watch as he licked his fingers clean, “And delicious too.”

“Bish!” you playfully chastised him with a light smack on his shoulder as your face felt hot, “That was really hot, though,” you admitted as you shimmied your shoulders softly and placed your hands on his chest, “How about I return the favor?” your tone dropped as you slowly sank to your knees, “Right fucking here.”

Bishop’s eyes went wide and a pulse of need shot through his veins, “Baby, I fuckin’ love you,” he blurted out as he readied himself for your mouth.

[juicesgf]

You Belong to Me. - Angel Reyes

He slammed the beer bottle on the bar never taking his eyes off her. She was doing it on purpose he knew she was.

And fuck did he hate it.

💋💋💋💋💋💋

His hands never left my waist as we “danced”

“Your really cute you know” I whispered biting down on his ear lightly

“Oh really?” Ez mumbled his hands roaming further down my body

“I love you Ez but get your hands off her now.” Angel snapped walking over

I turned my head to look at him as a smirk formed on my face “But we’re having fun”

He grabbed my wrist dragging me to the bathroom before quickly slamming the door shut backing me against the sink.

“You think it’s cute acting like a slut?” He questioned sliding his hands up my skirt

“Mm your brother seems to like it”

That’s all it took for the switch in him to flip. His hands went to her shirt ripping it off throwing it to the floor doing the same with her skirt.

“No panties or bra? Fucking whore.” He spat attaching his lips to hers his hands sliding between her legs.

A whimper left her mouth as he pulled away sliding his finger inside her. “This pussy.” He paused picking up his pace his fingers moving faster inside her “Mine.”

He uses his other hand to cup one of her boobs lowering his mouth to suck on one momentarily before pulling away. “These boobs.” he smirked giving the other a soft kiss “Mine.”

“These beautiful lips” He whispered bringing his mouth to hers placing a sloppy kiss before pulling away “Mine.”

He pulled out his fingers from inside her before sucking her juices off his finger. When he finished he cupped her face with his hands forcing her to look at him “You belong to me.” He stated before smirking and leaving the bathroom

“Never forget who you belong to princess” He laughed before closing the door behind him.

I’d genuinely do anything this man told me to.

-hails🧸