Your Boyfriend is a Bitch Headcanon -Mayans Version
Summary: How the guys would react if they overheard some guy hitting on you and saying that your boyfriend is a bitch. Inspiration came from the song below.
A hint of mischief is in Coco's eyes as he turns to you after knocking the guy out who had went from telling you how beautiful you were to telling Coco he was a bitch and he could steal you away if he really wanted to.. "My bad ma" he states with a smile. You had been begging for a normal date night away from the clubhouse and brothers. As much as you loved them and the club sometimes it was nice to have a quiet dinner at a nice restaurant outside of town. You couldn't help the smile and laugh as you shook your head as you reached for his hand quickly moving to your car. "I can't take you anywhere. Always getting me in trouble" he continued as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.
"Oh, really? You think you have a chance of taking me?" inquired Angel his voice casual as he turned to the younger guy who had sat down at your table. The guy had been chatting you up since you had stepped into the packed clubhouse looking for your man. Not taking a single word you had said to heart as you told him to back off and that your boyfriend was not one to play with. You watched as the mans eyes widened as he took in Angel and his eyes flickered over the patches. Angel was an imposing man sitting down but when he stood up the guy took off. "Thought I was the bitch?" laughed Angel as he sat back down looking at you.
Short king Bishop oozes big dick, don't fuck with me energy. Which is why you are stunned into silence as well as Gilly and Angel at what the new prospect has just said to him. The air is tense as Bishop contemplates the young man who had just dared to say he could fuck you better than him. "I assume you only said this because you think my beautiful goddess of a wife is a club girl correct? " asked Bishop as he gently taps your hip. Once you have stood up off his lap he stands up and walks to the new prospect who has decided now to shut his mouth. "I'll help you out son. There is no correct answer" states Bishop as he grabs the guys arm and leads him out the door.
Manny is all slow blinks and tight smiles as he listens to the man next to him at the bar describe all the ways he would do you as they wait for EZ to get them beers. "Said she has a boyfriend, dumb bitch doesn't know what she's missing out on. He's obviously a winner since he left her alone." states the man as he nudges Manny who chuckles darkly. "Yeah, the mother of my four beautiful girls over there sure is missing out" he states before punching the guy in the face. "Also im her husband not her boyfriend" states Manny before making his way to you. "This is why I don't bring you out ma. Always got me acting up" joked Manny as he pulled you too him for a kiss.
Guero is all angry forehead press and fists the minute the guy grabs your arm to turn you too him. The two of you had been taking a break from dancing and wee making out in the back of the packed clubhouse. You had mentioned to Guero earlier that the guy had been hitting on you and said he could take your boyfriend in a fight when you mentioned you were not single. Guero had wanted to put his fist through the guys face then but you had been so amused he had pushed the idea down so that he could keep that smile on your face. Now though it was on. No one touched what was his.
The moment your sweet Teddy Bear said excuse me and stood up you knew the guy was done for. It never ceased to amaze you how many people thought it was fun to poke the grizzly bear of a man that was Gilly. You smiled as he blew you and your daughter who was cooing away in your arms kisses before grabbing the back of the guys neck and walking him out of the clubhouse. "Still getting guys in trouble, four days after giving birth" chuckled Coco, making you laugh, as he stood up. "I'll make sure he doesn't kill the kid"
Creeper is silent as he watches you and the guy go back and forth. You have just as much blood on your hands as he does, he knows you can handle yourself. He won't hesitate to step in though if you want him too. He patiently waits for your cue as he sips his beer, chuckling when the guy says he can do you better and asks what position you like. "Do you like having your ass fucked?" you inquire as you tap Creepers arm. "As her bitch of a boyfriend I like to watch her fuck guys in the ass" he states as he looks the guy up and down.
"Who's the bitch now?" growled Bottles as he stood over the guy he had just punched in the jaw much to the shock of everyone. The guy had been following you like a scenthound, not taking your rejection of an offer to dance or to sneak off to a more private area. Even when you stated your boyfriend was a Mayan he was undeterred, going so far as to push you into a wall saying your boyfriend must be a bitch if he wasn't with you. Pushing Guero out of the way as he congratulated Bottles you pulled him to you demanding he take you home to bed now.
EZ is willing to let the guy slide. He's drunk and clearly overcome by your beauty. Who wouldn't be? He could not blame the guy for coming over and hitting on you. He probably figured you two were just friends sitting here having a drink and a chat. Its an easy mistake if you are new like he was. The two of you shared a look and small chuckle when the guy said your boyfriend was probably a bitch. He was going to let hat slide too but when the guy angrily slapped your beer out of your hand.....letting anything slide was out the door.
Angel lied there silently, practically ignoring Y/n’s presence. That’s how it’s been the past couple of days, she tries talking to him earning small grunts and hums in response, so she then just stops talking and he doesn’t care.
She lied beside him staring up at the ceiling for a moment. This had to stop, she couldn’t keep doing this anymore, giving him her all and getting nothing back.
“You’re losing me..” She muttered hoping he could hear her.
He did but he didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. It was like he was frozen in place, the last thing he wanted was to lose her. He loves her more than anything, so why couldn’t he say that? Why couldn’t he hold her and apologize, telling her how much he loves her?
She sighed at his silence as a tear fell down her cheek before she slowly got up from bed and left the bedroom. She debated staying the night on the couch and leaving in the morning but it was clear he didn’t want her there, so she did as he wanted and left.
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Manny was looking at you, and in that moment, his eyes held a deep, possessive gaze. He was admiring the way the bedroom light reflected off your skin, highlighting the curves of your form.
He noticed a small, but not insignificant, bruise on your collarbone. It was a purple mark, a remnant left behind by past passion. As his gaze lingered on it, his desire for you intensified.
Just then, his eyes darkened with a sultry, almost forbidden wanting for you.
He leaned forward to caress your collarbone where the mark was, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his gaze. He gently ran his thumb across the light bruise, as if trying to soothe it while also claiming it as his own. A mix of possessiveness and protectiveness in the lightness of his touch.
He then leaned closer to you, his fingers tracing a path from your collarbone to your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His voice was low and husky with need, a soft whisper filled with devotion.
Bodyguard!Gilbert 'Gilly' Lopez x reader, the usual for the show, 1584 words
a/n : bodyguard au cause we love them tropes
Tagging my Gilly people @narcolini @drabbles-mc <3
‘’ You lied to me. ‘’
‘’ I did. ‘’
‘’ Are you even dating me or is this all a big joke too? ‘’
He sighs, and suddenly the big SUV feels too small for the both of them. The cracked glass across the windshield makes it hard to see, the busted window in the back letting the wind whistle between his ears.
‘’ I… ‘’
His tongue rolls in his mouth, he doesn’t know what to say. On one side, he shouldn’t tell you, admit that he likes you, not when your dad had been clear about that in the contract. All means necessary, don’t fall in love. On the other, how couldn’t he, when you had been so kind, so charming since the beginning, why wouldn’t he want to date you?
‘’ Don’t. ‘’ You answer back, sinking into your seat. ‘’ I don’t want to know. ‘’
He had done lots of business with your dad before, a strong man with piercing eyes, sharp suits. That is where the offer came from, between gun trades and small talk. Got a babysitting job for you, Gilly, easy work, easy cash. More like a bodyguard job, a dumbass bodyguard job with actual danger, guns and wounds. Your dad had told him you wouldn’t be easily convinced, that to ensure your safety he would have to be less traditional, less leather and handgun, more friend, even closer if needed. And he did, even if he knew it wasn’t part of the plan, letting you run your fingers through his beard, sharing the same side of the bed, he just couldn’t say no.
‘’ Listen, baby, I- ‘’
‘’ Don’t- oh my god, Gilly what the fuck is wrong with you?! ‘’
Your hands are tight, gripping the door handle as he takes a sharp left. You turn to face him.
‘’ Stop it, it’s over! Don’t ‘baby’ me, don’t… ‘’ you gesticulate around, hands flying, ‘’ Just stop. ‘’
You raise your palms to your eyes, pressing, muttering things he can’t understand. He can sense your distress, he knows you now, better than anyone, more than your father would like him to probably. It has been months since you two had been together now, good months, the best ones for him this year. It was an easy job at first too, simply because you never were a primary target, just one that they would try to hit if deals went wrong. Being the child of a gun lord usually came with a fair share of barrels pointing back, and, from what he had seen from you when bullets eventually started flying, staying low and away from the windows, this whole routine was old news to you.
‘’ Please don’t be mad, I can explain. ‘’ He tries again.
You scoff, and he watches as you squint your eyes at him. It makes him feel small in his seat.
‘’ I don’t think you can, Gilly. Save your breath. ‘’
The car is colder now that the sun has gone down and he watches the wind wrap around your hair, lets the breeze bring goosebumps to his arms. He knows the two of you are too exposed, in this beat-up car, bullet holes on each side. It pains him that he knows the only place you will truly be safe is at your dad’s house, and he has to bring you there, not the club, not his house, not anywhere else. Drop you off, collect his hazard pay and leave. Leave you and hope you will answer his texts, even if he something tells him you probably won't.
He takes a left turn, fast, into a poorly lit backstreet, almost propelling you against your window side. The breaks get pressed just as fast, and you have to brace yourself with your hands on the dash.
‘’ Have you gone mad?! Did they hit you on the head or something?! ‘’
Gilly turns off the car and pivotes to you, bringing his arm up to wrap the back of your seat, caging you in.
‘’ I can explain. ‘’ Let me, please.
He is observing you, the frown between your brows, the anger in your eyes, the dried blood on the side of your face. It is superficial, really, barely a scratch, but he has to hold himself back from reaching out, move your chin to the side so he can get a better look. He breathes your name as the overhead lights dim out, leaving the two of you in the dark, pleading. He can smell your perfume, hear the shakiness in your breath.
‘’ Okay, whatever. ‘’
You cross your arms around your chest. Even in the darkness, he knows you are watching him, waiting.
‘’ I like you, I do. ‘’ He starts, ‘’ I wasn’t supposed to, though, we just needed to be friends, you know? So I could make sure you were safe. ‘’ But I failed.
‘’ My dad hired you. ‘’
‘’ He did. ‘’
Your shadow moves, moving to the side to lay your head on the headrest. Your voice is soft, going through the motions, exhausted. You must be tired, the rest of the adrenaline dripping out of you in waves.
‘’ Do you work for him, selling the guns and stuff? ‘’
‘’ More like with him, I’m in a motorcycle club. ‘’
We buy them, he could have said, sell some back if they ever come across a nice shipment from god knows where, but he doesn’t. You are smart, you get it.
‘’ You’re used to getting shot a lot. ‘’ It is not a question, more like a fact, piecing the information together.
‘’ You could say that. ‘’
He holds his free hand out, and you take it, his warm fingers taking in your cold ones. He can tell you have softened up, put down the axe.
‘’ You really like me? ‘’
‘’ I do, very much. ‘’
You squeeze his hand, gently, even though he can’t see, he knows you are pursing your lips, biting the inside of your cheek. You move gently, twisting between your seat and the cup holder, leaning down and pressing your cheek on his shoulder. He can feel your body relax into his.
‘’ Can we go home now? I want a hot shower. ‘’
‘’ I know you do, baby, we’ll be there soon. ‘’
He lets you nuzzle into in shirt, caressing your hair with his free hand. He starts the car, driving back up to the main street. He doesn’t have the guts to tell you you are going home alone tonight, that there is no way in hell your dad will let you sleep somewhere else.
To his surprise, you don’t put much of a fight when you notice the gates around your dad’s house, or when he says your name into the intercom so you can be let in, but you are a smart one, of course, you picked it up. The nuances, the conflict inside of him, how he couldn’t get out of the car at first, couldn’t let go of your arm when people started pouring out the house. I’m good, Gilly, you whispered to him, thank you. And so he listens, he lets go, picks up his cash and leaves.
.
A week passes, a long one, of mindless thinking, passing time, putting cars on the lift and then bringing them down. He hears about you at Templo one morning, barely a sentence, something about your dad catching the guys, how business between him and the Mayans has been booming since then. Thanks, Gilly. Good job, man. The military training finally paying off, uh? He nods and smiles, but he doesn’t ask about you. He tries to play it low, make it seem like he is not taking the biggest hit of his life.
When he gets home that afternoon, something is different, maybe it is the way the grass is bent where it usually isn’t, how the doormat is slightly crooked, but it is you sitting at the diner table that makes him stop in his tracks.
His hand is still on the gun at the back of his waist, his other tight on the door handle when you wave at him, a small smile on your lips. Your hair is slightly shorter, different, and you are wearing too many layers for the California heat. You speak first.
‘’ Hey, baby… ‘’
Gilly lets go of the handle at his back and closes the door behind him. Baby. Baby. You stand up before he can talk back, nervously taking a few steps towards him.
‘’ We were on lockdown, I couldn’t call, I couldn’t leave. ‘’ Your fingers are pulling at threads on your jeans pocket. ‘’ I’m sorry, Gilly. ‘’
He melts, there is nothing else he can do. His arms find their way naturally around you, one hand on your head, pushing your cheek against his chest. He knows you can feel his heart beating in your ear, hear the relief that comes out of him with a sigh. There is no hesitation when you hug back, warm fingers griping at his cut.
‘’ I will never lie again, I swear. ‘’
You laugh, and it makes him squeeze tighter.
‘’ It’s alright, only for good reasons from now on, okay? ‘’
Okay, he will. Protecting you will be a full-time job now, maybe not the small contract he thought he was going into, something different, something warm and meaningful—soft, loved.
a/n: there's a flashback at the start of this. it's also shorter than usual, so hopefully, that's gucci
Hope and I pray, darling, that you will stay.
sum: The night Angel made it home from Chino, his life changed forever. He knows sharing the details will force you to choose between protecting him and your son.
Angel never turns down a party, especially one thrown in his honor. Typically, he can be found in the corner with a girl whose name he won't remember by sunrise, hands, and tongue in places unsuitable for his son's eyes.
When he'd slipped on his kutte just a few hours prior, that's how Angel planned on spending the evening.
A welcome home party in honor of his recent release from Chino would be the best form of celebration. The only problem is that Angel wasn't expecting to see you. Scratch that. Angel knew he would see you. You were one of the people who helped organize his celebration. But, he wasn't expecting the emotions he would feel once he saw you.
Eighteen months is a long time to be apart. While serving time in Chino, Angel heard your voice over the phone each week. Your conversations were never long. Most phone calls were to ensure Jeyson could talk to his father, informing him of what he'd learned in school. Angel would try to get you to speak to him, but you only stayed on long enough to ensure he was doing okay.
Although you were the one to organize the party, Angel didn't physically see you until roughly two hours in.
He found you outside the clubhouse, seated atop one of the tables set up hours before. The cell phone pressed against your ear let him know you were taking a work call that probably didn't need to be interrupted. But, of course, that didn't stop him from sitting alongside you.
Angel's presence is hard to ignore. His eyes are more noticeable than the silence he keeps as you continue your conversation. They pass over your features, lingering on all the changes accumulated in your time apart. His fingers brush against the curls, which have grown, the action causing you to bat his hand away. To no surprise, Angel ignores your silent request.
His touch returns, brushing against your cheek. An all too familiar heat spreads across your skin, your body instinctively gravitating towards him. The smile you've grown up with appears on Angel's lips as your eyes meet his.
Your eyes roll.
The smile on your lips grows as Angel's fingers interlace with yours. You try to focus on the conversation needing your attention, but you know it's a losing battle.
He presses a kiss against your knuckles, a second following before he gently squeezes your hand.
You give a squeeze in return, your eyes dropping to your interlaced fingers as you listen to the words on the other end of the phone.
Your eyes move to his, a soft smile finding your lips as you both come to the same realization. Where the two of you sit now is the closest you've been in over a year.
Hearing him say he was "okay," over the phone was never enough to ease your mind. In the time you've been with Angel, you've learned being a Mayan meant he was never guaranteed to be "okay." But, at least when he was home, his safety was a little more guaranteed. There's always more safety in number.
"You been avoiding me?"
The question causes your eyes to roll as Angel watches you hang up.
"If only it were that easy?" You sigh, your mind stuck on the recently ended call. "I'm technically not supposed to be here. I should be at work."
"Not dressed like that…" Angel's words trail off, his eyes tracking your movements as you stand.
Your brow furrows as you straighten the dress you wear.
"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"
The question hangs in the air as Angel takes a sip of his beer. The black dress you wear is work-appropriate. You had planned on returning to work after seeing Angel was safely home. But, unfortunately, the call put a kink in your plan, making it impossible to actually see Angel.
Hence, you're currently standing before him, two hours into his welcome home party.
Although your dress is work appropriate, under Angel's gaze, you're suddenly aware of how well it fits you. He remains seated atop the table, but that doesn't stop the butterflies in your stomach.
The problem with Angel is you can never tell if the butterflies are a warning.
You allow yourself to breathe as Angel's gaze returns to yours. "Are you enjoying your party?"
"Yeah, thanks for everything."
Angel's eyes drift over your shoulder towards the clubhouse, where music can faintly be heard under the laughter of his friends.
"You're welcome." You watch him take a sip of his beer. The nerves you feel suddenly make you wish you had your own. "Everyone is happy you're back."
You know it's coming before it does, but you're still unable to suppress your smile as Angel speaks.
"Everyone?" The grin on his lips causes your head to shake.
Your smiles grow as your eyes meet.
"You still got that rule?" Angel releases a chuckle. The smile on his lips grows as his bottle stops shy of his mouth.
"I'm not drinking with you, Angel." You ignore him as he offers you his bottle. "I'm driving your son home tonight," you remind him.
"Easy fix, sweetheart," Angel shrugs. "Pop could take him for the night. Give us a chance to catch up."
You laugh at the suggestive wag of his eyebrows.
"Angel Reyes, you are not getting lucky with me tonight."
"Who said that was my plan?"
"Those eyes say enough."
Angel's only response is a shameless, cheese-eating grin. There is no need for Angel to attempt to deny his intentions. You know him better than anyone.
Instead, he allows his gaze to pass over you for a second time.
"I'm just saying…" Angel speaks slowly, his voice dripping with suggestion. "…Eighteen months is a long time to go without sex--"
"Who said I did?"
Angel sputters, nearly choking on his beer at your response. His brow arches.
"What?" The innocent eyes that glance at him cause Angel to shift uncomfortably. "We're not married anymore, Angel. And haven't been for a while."
Angel knew it was naive to think other men weren't interested in you. But the thought of you being intimate with another man will never sit well with Angel. And you know this, which is why your chest tightens as you catch the expression that briefly passes over Angel's face. Instead of saying what's on his mind, Angel settles for downing the rest of his beer.
"Well, I'll let you go." Then, taking a breath, you smile as you motion towards the clubhouse door. "I'm sure a few ladies are trying to get in a chance with the man of the hour."
"Not as fun when you're thinking of someone else."
Although your eyes roll, Angel notes that you remain in the same spot. Even once, he's sat his bottle aside and is standing before you.
You still got that rule?
Angel had asked you just a few minutes prior, and now the same question runs through your mind.
You never drink together. A safeguard for yourself because you somehow end up underneath Angel each time.
Having sex with your ex-husband is out of the question.
But part of you knew that was the rule Angel was referring to. There has always been an unspoken rule. Since the divorce decree was finalized, you and Angel have remained platonic.
Sure, Angel flirts with you every chance he gets. Angel has flirted with you from the moment he learned what flirting was. Angel knows it's not fair. It's a terrible habit he's been unable to break. But, no matter how much he flirts with you, Angel hasn't kissed you.
His eyes drop to your lips as his touch warms your neck.
When you don't pull away, he wastes no time closing the distance between you.
The kiss is soft but enough to nearly buckle your knees.
You know it's a mistake. Sends mixed signals to the man you constantly swear you're trying to set clear boundaries with. But you find yourself selfishly redrawing the line as you allow Angel to pull you closer.
"Just stay with me tonight."
It's a soft plea. One you've heard from Angel a hundred times. Often whispered when he's drunk, incapable of keeping his feelings for you at bay.
It's a soft plea you feel yourself giving into as his grip tightens around your waist, the warmth of his mouth clouding your brain.
"Sorry, Angel, I can't."
Your eyes remain closed as his face rests against your shoulder. The silence that follows seems longer than the few short seconds it actually is.
When Angel pulls back, he's not surprised by the apologetic look he finds.
"Relax," he sighs, his hands falling from your waist. He takes a step around you in the direction of the clubhouse. "It's not that serious, querida. It's just a kiss. I'm not gonna ask you to marry me…Just consider it a welcome home gift."
Sorry, Angel, I can't.
It's been a non-stop track in his mind all night. Even when he found himself four beers deep, tangled in the sheets of the first girl he saw once he'd returned to the clubhouse.
He'd think he'd be smart enough not to put himself in the position, but Angel can't help. He'll try with you until the day he dies. Even if you shoot him down, it makes for a more challenging recovery.
Between the alcohol he'd consumed at the party and the shots added once he and his mystery girl made it back to her place, Angel lost count of when he passed his limit. Then, finally, he woke up, the sun blinding him. Only to find it was three in the afternoon.
His plan had been to pick Jeyson up from school, but your missed call let him know not to come. The text you'd sent once he didn't pick up causes Angel to slam the front door once he finally makes it home.
Please don't show up to school if you're hungover. Instead, just stop by for dinner.
Tossing his keys onto the in-table, he's tugging his kutte off when he catches movement in the corner of his ear.
The gun barrel is pointed at his head when he can fully turn.
"Shit, Reyes." Tommy's chuckle, the shock on Angel's face pulling a laugh from him. Lowering his gun, Tommy sits it on the table next to him. He returns his attention to the burrito he's eating. "Your draw is slow as fuck. Could've easily pulled the trigger before you undid the safety."
Angel remains frozen in the doorway of his kitchen. He may have kept a calm expression, but Tommy knows his pulse isn't steady.
"Surprised to see me?" Tommy's eyes track Angel as he tosses his kutte towards the nearby sofa. "I gotta admit, I was kinda hurt you ain't invite me to your party."
"What do you want?"
"It looked fun," Tommy continues, taking another bite. "I wanted to welcome my friend home."
"We're not friends," Angel laughs dryly. "What do you want, Tommy?"
"Right to the point." Tommy dusts off his hands before standing. The smile on his face grows as he steps in Angel's direction. "Came to cash in on that favor you owe me."
"Angel, this is a conflict of interest."
"What?"
Angel glances up from his hands to find your face in your hands. You hadn't said a single word as he recounted the events from that night. Because it all made sense.
Him missing the dinner your son had spent the entire day excitedly talking about. Only to turn up in the early hours of the following morning. Unannounced, unable to give you a reason for waking you up. He'd helped Tommy as one last favor. Too naive to realize that "one last favor" was never the last favor for Tommy.
"If people find out about this, they will think I took Tommy's case on purpose."
"But you didn't, you didn't even know—"
"It doesn't matter, Angel. The truth never matters. The only thing that matters is how things look. You know that.--- Where's the gun?"
"What?"
You look up, the confusion on Angel's face making your blood boil.
"The gun that you used that night. Where is it?"
Despite the tone of your voice, Angel releases a laugh. Shaking his head, he sighs. "I tell you, I helped Tommy kill someone, and you don't wanna know who–"
"I don't care who it is!" The admission silences Angel. "Where is the gun, Angel?"
"Why?"
"We need to get rid of it. Judging how you showed up that night, you didn't get rid of it. You were pretty messed up. I'm serious, Angel. You need to tell me where it is or go get it yourself. I don't care, but we need to get rid of it now—"
Angel takes in your expectant gaze but is unable to speak. Part of it is out of shock.
He knows it's not you that's talking. You have always walked a straight line. Even when you were kids, Angel couldn't convince you to do anything that would result in any trouble. The closest you'd come to breaking the law was marrying him. You both had an unspoken rule. He never fully shared details with you, so you would never have to lie about what you knew.
Your request to have him retrieve the gun was not something you had spoken out of love for him. You weren't willing to throw your life away at Angel's expense. You had proven that years ago when you drew up a divorce decree. There was only one person for whom you genuinely go to the ends of the Earth.
That's why Angel's eyes grip shut. His words are barely audible. "We can't. I don't have it."
"What do you mean you don't have it?"
Angel knows his admission needs elaboration, but he chooses to remain silent. His thumb digs into the palm of his left hand. He knows no form of delivery will lessen the blow or your reaction once you realize how far his screw-up goes.
"Tommy has it."
The admission pulls a scoff from your lips. "Tommy's in Stockton, Angel. He doesn't have it—"
"He has it," Angel sighs. His tone leaves no room for discredit. His gaze lifts to meet yours. "I don't know where he put it, but when Ez and I—"
"Wait—" Angel watches your brow furrow. Closing his eyes gives you the answer to your question before you can get it out. "That's where you were? When you missed the recital."
Angel's jaw clenches. He is trying his best to suppress the words coming up as you continue.
"You took Ezekiel with you to clean up something you fucked up on? Knowing he is still on parole? It doesn't matter if he wasn't there with you and Tommy. They would have thrown him back in Stockton if either of you were stopped—or seen? I swear, Angel, you don't ever think–"
"I do think!" Angel's voice raises, filling the parking lot and drifting underneath the clubhouse door. "All I ever do is think! About you and Jeyson! Thinking about you is what got me into this fucking mess!"
You open your mouth to speak, but a voice comes from behind you.
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah, it's fine. Go back inside."
On any other day, Angel wouldn't have dared spit the retort at the man moving to stand along your side–let alone have the courage to say it in his tone. But the heat overpowering his skin, the blood pounding in his ears, has clouded Angel's judgment. This is why he doesn't realize how close he is to you until Bishop steps forward, his presence forcing Angel to take a step back.
"Everything alright?"
Bishop raises the question for a second time.
Although his eyes remain on Angel's, you both know he is waiting for your response. Angel's eyes roll, his jaw clenching as Bishop's question lingers in the air. Finally, he takes a second step back, his head shaking as you remain silent.
"I want to take Jeyson home." Both men look at you. The calm expression you wear is not what either of them is expecting. "Can you go get him, please?"
Bishop's gaze passes back to Angel before he moves towards the clubhouse.
"I keep waiting for the moment you can prove to everyone that I'm not stupid for believing in you, but it's like you try your hardest to do the opposite every chance you get."
The words came out faint. Neither of you was sure if they were meant to be spoken aloud.
Angel knew he'd overstayed his time with you. No one thought you'd take two last past senior year—hell, not even Angel. He always expected you to blink and see him for what he was. A man who didn't deserve a woman that could only see the good he had to offer the world. No matter how small that "good" was.
Every time he fucked up, a part of Angel wished you had the revelation. Finally, agree with your mother, and leave him alone. Make it easier for your ties to be cut. But he knew you couldn't. Cutting ties with Angel seemed impossible, no matter how much he fucked up.
He knows the reason you hold onto the hope that he'll become the man you tell everyone he is has nothing to do with Angel. Angel knows it's shitty because he came to this revelation years ago. Years before you. And he's selfishly capitalized on it for years.
It's the eight-year-old boy who is the spitting image of him.
Angel's eyes, Angel's smile, and Angel's mannerisms come back to you every time you look at your son.
Taking Jeyson away from his father is something you could never bring yourself to do.
But the look he finds in your eyes is one Angel has never seen from you in all your years together. It's the same look he gets from everyone in his life when they have reached their breaking point.
"I promise you I can fix it—"
"No, you can't fix it, Angel. Because once again, I have to clean up your mess."
His shoulders fall, a sigh falling from his lips. "I—"
"I have been cleaning up after you since we were kids. I kept telling myself it was because I love you, and I couldn't stand seeing you get the short of the stick. But, the truth is, you're not getting the short end of the stick in life, Angel. You're so focused on trying to prove that the world is against you, but you're the problem. And I going to end up spending the rest of my life cleaning up after you.
The second I handle this, we're done. I mean it, Angel. You're letting me and Jeyson leave, and you're not trying to fight it this time. That's the only promise I want you to give me. I'm not letting you poison my son."
Just a cute lil thing that popped into my head like a week ago and it seemed like something Angel would do
warnings: just a bunch of fluffiness, Angel being a sweetheart
Pregnancy was not an easy thing. People in movies and tv shows always made it out to look like a piece of cake. What a bunch of bullshit.
It was fine at first, minus the morning sickness. But now? You barely fit in any of your clothes, you had a hard time falling asleep because sleeping on your back was uncomfortable, the baby was constantly using your bladder as a soccer ball, you practically waddled at this point, and your emotions were all over the place.
Just last week you cried because Angel got you your favorite food from the Chinese place down the street. To say he was confused was an understatement.
Your current wardrobe consisted of maternity leggings and whatever shirt of Angels you could find. Considering those were the only two things that you could fit in at the moment. Not like it was any different than what you usually wore; one of your husband's flannels over whatever tank top you chose, and a pair of leggings or shorts.
Angel had been an amazing husband throughout the pregnancy. He was more excited than you were when you told him you were pregnant. You knew he always wanted a family and you were happy he chose you to share that experience with. He had a picture of the sonogram in his locker at the scrapyard and one in his cut so it was always on him when he was on a run.
He loved laying in your lap before bed so he could kiss your stomach and rub his hands over it while you played with his hair and listened to him talk to the baby and about his day. The baby loved hearing its fathers voice. It was very active whenever Angel was talking.
You still remember the look on his face when he felt the baby kick for the first time. Tears welled up in his eyes and he didn’t take his hand off your stomach for a solid hour. He ended up falling asleep in your lap that night.
He promised to make sure that the baby knew how much they were loved, no matter what.
And you knew it was because of how he felt growing up with EZ. And it broke your heart.
You were in the kitchen, scrounging around for whatever Baby Reyes deemed appetizing, mainly peanut butter and celery while Angel was laying on the couch scrolling through TikTok. With your due date coming up in the next week or so, Bishop had cut back Angels time on runs and at the scrapyard and you couldn’t have been more thankful for it.
Angel came across a TikTok of a guy coming up behind his girl and lifted up her stomach and he could see how much she enjoyed the weight being lifted.
And that’s when he decided to do it for you.
Angel voiced how he felt bad that you had to do everything for the pregnancy and he only did one thing to contribute to it. So, he figured this could be a daily thing until the baby was born.
He hopped off the couch and made his way over to the counter to position his phone to have a good view of both of you.
“Baby?” Angel called, causing you to turn to face him, peanut butter in hand with a celery stick in the jar, yeah?”
“C’mere, I wanna try something.”
Holding his hand out to you, you took slow steps towards him with one hand on your stomach. Once you placed your hand in his, he took the jar out of your hand and placed a kiss on your forehead before turning both of you to the side.
Angel lifter your his shirt and tucked it under your breasts. He rubbed his hands over your growing stomach, a smile on his face. You shut your eyes and leaned back in his embrace.
Angel placed his hands under the baby bump and slowly lifted it, causing your eyes to shoot open at the sudden feeling of release. The weight was still there but it wasn’t as much as it was and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes at the feeling of relief.
“How’s that, mi amor?” Angel asked, placing a kiss on your shoulder
“Feels amazing,” you whispered, turning your head to the side to look at him, “thank you, baby.”
Angel slowly released your stomach and placed his hands back on your belly as you placed yours on top of his,”I can’t wait to meet our little girl.”
A smile grew on your face at his words, leaning your head back on his shoulder, “she already has you wrapped around her finger, huh?”
“Miguel,” You whined as you walked into his office seeing he was still working. It had been a few hours since he had told you he would be almost done and it seemed he had forgotten about you.
“I’m still working, princess. Give me time.” He said with a bit of sternness in his voice. You huffed and stood in the door frame. When he said give me time, it meant you needed to leave him alone.
You bit your lip in thought and smiled, “No.” You said simply. “I’ve been waiting 3 hours and now you want me to wait more. It’s my time. You can wait to finish work just like you made me wait.”
Miguel spun around in his chair and stood up, “Oh? Got an attitude do we?” He smirked. He never admitted it, but he loved your brat side.
“I’m done waiting, Galindo. It’s me or your work this second,” You said, slamming your foot now for dramatic effect. You had been extremely hot and bothered all day and he KNEW this. If you hadn’t been so damn horny, you would have made him wait.
He smiled and grabbed your chin, “You think you can talk to me that way and get away with it? You fucking brat?” His eyes lit up. “Go to the bedroom and stay there.”
This honestly gave you hope, but it proved you wrong when you waited for him over 10 minutes. But you sat because you were a good girl deep down. And you didn’t want to get in too much trouble.
He sauntered into the bedroom 15 minutes after the 10 you had already waited as he began to unbutton his shirt. “At least you know when to follow orders half the time.” He said and eyed you.
“I hate waiting.”
“Don’t be so impatient, my love.” Miguel said and motioned for you to get on the bed. You did so immediately, already wanting to be good for him again. “Strip down to your underwear.” He said simply.
His voice when he gave commands made you weak. It was so stern, yet so calming. You loved his voice all around. You did as asked and waiting. He slipped his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed. You moved by him and he pulled you onto him so you were straddaling him.
“You weren’t a good girl for daddy,” He whispered in your ear. “I think you deserve a little bit of a punishment.” You whined when he said this, but waited for him to continue. “I’m not going to touch you for you to get off, but you can touch me.”
You sucked in a quick breathe, “But daddy, that’s not fair.”
“And neither is you taking me away from my work. That’s my decision. Take it or leave it.” He said. You groaned and moved your hands around his neck.
“Okay fine,” You relented and began to kiss up his neck. You were already extremely wet. When you got to his lips, he almost didn’t kiss you back. But even he couldn’t resist kissing you.
Yet, he really wasn’t going to touch you to make you cum. You tried to think of a solution and grinned. You positioned yourself so you were over his thigh. You loved Miguel’s legs. You loved every part of him, but his legs just really made you wet.
You began to move back and forth making your panties graze against your clit. You gasped slightly, feeling slight relief that you were getting some contact. Miguel also took a deep breathe, clearly becoming more aroused by the second.
You began to move faster and continued to his Miguel’s shoulder, sucking and biting, desperate to leave a small mark if he wasn’t going to mark you. “Fuck,” He groaned out quietly. You could feel his pants getting tighter against your leg.
It was turning you on so much that he was getting hard watching you get off. “I want you so bad, daddy.” You gasped out as you edged yourself closer, desperate for him to touch you.
“Make yourself cum on my thigh baby. Then I will.” He said, moving his leg up against you. You moaned out and nodded.
It was the push over the edge you needed and your head was falling back in a matter of moments. You came hard and were panting Miguel’s name. When you started to come down, Miguel smiled at you and kissed your temple, “You’re beautiful. Maybe you should give me attitude more.”
Summary; Being late for an anniversary date is never a good idea, but after a terrible day at work, Nestor has to change plans and quickly.
WordCount; 554
Pairing; Nestor Oceteva x Female Reader
Warnings; Fluff, Mentions of Injury, Surprise ending.
A/N - My first time writing for Nestor, so feedback would be appreciated!
Day 2
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Nestor was late. After spending all day in the kitchen, putting so much effort in tonight, you were seething. Despite understanding the importance and the dangers of his job, you couldn't help feeling that you should be able to have one night with him. Especially on your anniversary.
If only you knew why Nestor was so late.
Parking up in the driveway, Nestor knew he was late. Four hours late, to be exact. When Nestor left your home in the early hours of the morning, Nestor desired one thing, to return home to you. He hadn't expected the day to transpire the way that it did. Every plan seemed to go astray. Nestor had managed to find himself in two fistfights and a shot out. He was unwilling to imagine his appearance as of now, the bruises, the cuts, he could feel them all as if they were fresh.
Begrudgingly, he left the safety of his car, awaiting the inevitable argument, but Nestor could admit he deserved it. He made a promise to you, which he broke. Sighing, he dragged his feet up the several stairs before opening the door until your shared home.
"Mi Reina, where are you?" Nestor called out as he threw his jacket onto a nearby chair. The house was so silent Nestor could have heard a pin drop. Perhaps you had finally had enough. Should he be surprised that you've had enough with the inconsistencies that being with him brought?
In a last-ditch attempt to locate you, Nestor searched for you in the back garden. There you were, sitting in there in your favourite outfit, drinking your favourite bottle of wine. Nestor witnessed the amount of effort that you had placed into tonight, from the decoration of the table. The melodies of Nestor's favourite song playing softly in the background.
"Mi Reina, I'm so sorry."
"I asked for one night! One night and you couldn't even give that to me." Raising from your chair, you turned to face him, to unleash every emotion you had been feeling all night onto him, however, the second you noticed him, your mind turned from anger to concern.
"Mi Rey, what happened to you? Are you alright? How badly are you hurt?" You were in front of him at an instant. Examing the visible skin for marks, cuts, bruises. Both of your hands reaching up to cup his face gingerly.
"Mi Amor, my injuries are unimportant. Tonight was supposed to be about us, and I've ruined it. I'm sorry." While you had been upset that Nestor had been late, now you understood what kind of day it had been, realising that Nestor was only late when things were particularly bad. Resting up on your toes, you pressed a gentle kiss to Nestor's lips.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, we've still got the entire evening, so what do you say I go run a bath."
Allowing you to walk past him, Nestor remained outside for a moment, as removed the square box from his pocket. Plans had changed. Would a proposal in the bath be as romantic as it would have been over dinner?
