#angel reyes x blackreader

LIVE

late afff, but it’s coming….

Will We Last the Night? — lover of mine p.6

an: randomly started editing this today. gonna have to reread the others before I post this full one

sum: Angel’s hand has been forced. it’s time for him to come clean. his biggest fear is it will be enough to make you leave.

“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 two last past senior year—hell, not even Angel. He always expected you to blink and see him for what he truly 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 have 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. No matter how much he fucked up, cutting ties with Angel seemed impossible.

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 himself. 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 a spitting image of him.

Angel’s eyes, Angel’s smile, Angel’s mannerisms they 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 all the people 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—“

“But the second I handle this, we’re done. I mean it, Angel. You’re letting me and Jeyson leave.That’sthe only promise I want you to give me. I’m not letting you poison my son.”

#may the queue be with you #angel reyes x blackreader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fic

@calif0rnia-lovers

Mon, 02 May 2022 03:58:11

heatwave.

an:thank you to those who suggested characters for this hc. I typed this on my phone, so excuse the lack of editing. reply below which one is your favorite

requested characters (in no particular order): angel reyes, jax teller, joaquin torres, johnny tuturro, josh cody, rio

rating: (except for J. Cody)

sum:there’s a heatwave sweeping the nation. they’re encouraging everyone to have fun, but to stay cool.

“If you think about it, you’re more likely to die in a car crash than you are to be attacked by a shark.”

Your widened eyes lifts from the water gently rocking beneath you. The sight prompts Johnny to continue.

“I’m serious—“

“Andnot helping, Johnny!”

The uneasy look on your face should erase the smile on Johnny’s face, but it only doubles it in size. The five months you’ve lived in Graceland he’s never seen you scared before. Not even with a gun pointed at you.

“I go out and surf all the time—“

“Exactly,”you continue as he begins to guide your board further into the water. “AndI tell you you’re crazy each time.”

“And,” he chuckles. “I come back alive each time.”

Johnny’s words may be truthful, but they do little to ease your anxiety.

As your board drifts further from shore, you silently curse yourself for agreeing to this. After a long day at work, you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep early. Johnny had come into your room thirty minutes after your arrival, the bright smile on his face forcing you to roll over.

“Whatever it is,” you mumbled. “I’m not going to be apart of it.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” Johnny crossed the room before collapsing on your bed. The added weight caused you to bounce lightly against the mattress.

“With you, it’s always trouble.”

“I was gonna ask you to come watch the sunset with me,” he’d smiled, his chin resting against your shoulder. “When was the last time we got to hang out? Just us two?”

The question was enough to make you agree to drag yourself out of the bed you had just laid in, so that you could spend time alone with your best friend.

When he invited you to watch the sunset, you thought Johnny had meant from the shore. You go with Johnny to the beach a lot, you even go in the water, but you’ve never ventured this far out.

You are now wide awake and seated on Johnny’s paddle board. He stands behind you, guiding the board. He may have teased you before, but Johnny does not mention that you sit as close to him as possible.

“Say what you want about sharks, Johnny,” you say, eyes returning to the water beneath you. “But, they’re far less likely to attack us if we’re closer to shore.”

“Let a shark try and roll up on this paddle board—“

“What are you going to do?” Your eyes roll, a tiny smile manages to outweigh your nerves as Johnny’s chuckle fills the air. “Fight it?

“I could punch it in the nose—“

“I doubt that works.”

“I read it online—“

“So it has to be true?” You tip your head back to see Johnny’s head shaking. The smile on his lips stretches as he meets your gaze. “Besides, I love you, JT. But my faith in you deterring a Great White with a punch is extremely low.”

“Man, whatever.” Johnny kisses his teeth, his eyes rolling as you release a giggle. “If you fall off don’t call me out there to punch a shark, and save you.” He glances down at you, his smile growing at the look of skepticism he finds. “Im serious, I’ll paddle my ass back to shore without you.”

“Like you’d leave me out here. I’m the only person who laughs at your jokes.”

“Look, y/n, I love you but you need to get your shit together.”

Letty’s words widen your eyes, the look of confusion on your face causing her eyes to roll.

“Me? What are you talking about?”

You are met with a temporary silence as Letty cautiously peeks around the edge of the building. Once she is certain the coast is clear, she turns back to you. Shifting the strap of her water gun, she allows the nearly empty weapon to hang by her side.

Letty steps forward, her hands clamping down on your shoulders. Her voice is just above a whisper as her dark brown eyes meet your gaze.

“You need to stop pulling your shots.”

“I am not pulling my shots.”

Letty’s eyes roll for the second time today. “I know we’re playing against your husband, but I am trying to win this game.”

“So am I–”

“Good, so that settles it, next time you see Angel empty the clip.”

She gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before disappearing around the corner.

It is Saturday afternoon and you’re currently crouched alongside the back of the clubhouse. The red bandana tied around your left upper arm represents your team’s color. Despite having discarded your t-shirt, leaving you in just your shorts and bikini top, you are sweating buckets.

The game has been going on for nearly twenty minutes. The rules are simple: capture the flag. The team captain has the flag, or bandana, tied around their arm. Once they are shot, the shooter can retrieve the flag. Game over.

You and Letty are the only people on your team not drenched from head to toe. Your other teammates, Ez and Neron, are seated at the front tapped out.

Letty managed to take out Gilly, and you managed to take out her dad. Angel and your five-year-old son are the final teammates on the opposing team.

As you carefully make your way through the parked cars of the lot, finger hovering above the trigger, you realize Letty is right. You might have let Angel getaway, once. When you’d initially snuck up on Angel, your goal was to shoot him—you just needed to get closer. Angel was so focused on scanning the parking lot that he didn’t hear your footsteps as you’d snuck upon him. You would have shot him if your foot hadn’t bumped into a poorly discarded toolbox, the sound giving Angel enough of a heads up to seek cover.

You come to a halt as the sound of shuffling feet breaks your concentration. Spinning on your heels, you pause as you find your son, Danny, standing a few feet away. Your shoulders relax as you lower your gun.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you sigh, wiping your hand against your forehead. “Where’s daddy?”

By the time Danny makes his way back to his father’s hiding spot, a drenched Letty has joined Ez and Neron at the front of the clubhouse.

“Did you find your mom?” Angel asks, watching as your son shakes his head. Peeking over the hood of the car, Angel allows his eyes to scan the lot. “Alright, stay here, I’m gonna go find her.”

Angel only manages to get two steps past the security of the car when he’s blasted by a cool stream of water. Your finger clamps down on the trigger, your son’s giggles drowning out Angel’s screams as tries to avoid the water blasting his chest and face. Trying to avoid crashing into your son and running back into the car, he has nowhere to go. Reaching forward, he groans as you narrowly escape his grip.

You wait until you’ve emptied the remnants of your gun before allowing him to catch your waist. “You owe me a flag.”

A dripping Angel is a mess of breathless laughs as he wipes the water from his eyes. “I can’t believe you turned my son against me!”

“That’s all you got, Wilson?” Joaquín’s laughter drifts across the crowded street. The sound attracting more passing guests. “I thought you’d have better aim than this!”

Seated beneath the blazing sun, Joaquín Torres watches as Sam shakes his head. The grin on the young man’s face tightens Sam’s grip around the orange ball he holds.

Joaquín’s hands rub together in anticipation, his dark brown eyes challenging his friend to end his winning streak. In the last hour, since he’s taken over at the dunk tank, Joaquín has yet to be dunked. The determination between Sam’s eyes might stem from the fact that Joaquin dunked him–twice–on the morning shift.

Bright eyes and the ability to talk to anyone have allowed Joaquin to throw off the concentration of each person that has stepped forward to try. Even Sam.

Sam releases a groan as the orange ball slaps the yellow tarp beside the target, and Joaquín’s cocky smile remains intact.

“Whewww,”Joaquín whistles. “You want anotherround, Wilson? It’s $5.”

“I could just knock your ass off for free,” Sam chuckles as he gathers the balls surrounding the dunk tank. “What’s stopping me from hitting the target now?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Sam,“ Joaquin winks. He motions towards the audience. "Donations are going to the kids.”

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll get him for you.”

You wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the smile on Joaquín’s face doubles in size as he watches you catch the ball Sam tosses your way.

“Uh-oh, Torres,” Sam teases, watching as you step up to the yellow tape sticking to the pavement. “Sure you don’t wanna get down, let someone else get dunked?”

"You know me,” Joaquin smiles, watching as you study the target. “I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

“Speaking of challenges.” Sam pauses as the power behind your first throw echoes silencing the conversations of those standing by to watch. Hitting the outer edge of the black circle, the orange ball dropped to the ground before rolling back towards you. Sam’s smile stretches as he briefly glances in your direction. “How about we make things interesting?”

“Interesting?” Joaquin’s eyes leave Sam’s long enough to watch you bend down to retrieve another ball. “What you got in mind?”

“If Y/N here knocks that cocky smile off your face, you finally gotta ask her on that date.”

“Date?”

The loud‘thwack’ that follows sends ripples across the bright yellow tarp. The edge of the ball connects with the black circle, bouncing off the side of the metal target. The board beneath Joaquin trembles, a sign of relief in response to narrowly missing that close call.

“Yeah,”Sam smiles as he passes you your third and final ball. “Youknowthat date I’ve been telling you to take her on so I can stop hearing how–”

“A date’s fine,” Joaquin speaks loudly drowning out the remainder of Sam’s sentence.

His narrowed eyes burn a hole into a grinning Sam. The sight seeming foreign to anyone who has worked with Joaquin. The smile that spreads across his lips as he allows his gaze to return to you is the one you have associated with Joaquin for the last month.

It is a smile that comes the instance you acknowledge his presence. Whether it be a simple “morning, Torres,” as you pass. Or the moments he catches himself ramblingly excitedly about the mission, only to find you watching him an amused smile on your lips. Or the sound of your laugh as you shake your head, trying not to cave to one of his corny jokes. It is the smile that had the entire unit convince Joaquin was falling hard for the analyst Sam brought in to assist on the mission.

“Hate to crush your dreams of a candlelight dinner, sweetheart, but no one’s dunked me–”

Laughter drowns out the splash of water as the board shifts releasing Joaquín into the ice-cold tank. Even beneath the freezing surface, Joaquin can hear Sam’s laughter above all the rest. When he finishes wiping the water from his eyes, Joaquin finds you standing alongside the tank.

“How’s the water?” The smile on your lips grows as Joaquin pushes his damp hair back from his forehead.

“Not bad,” he chuckles. His playful eyes meet your gaze. “You must have reallywanted that date.”

“So what do I get if I pay for the deluxe special?”

The sound of your voice pulls Jax’s attention from the woman behind the wheel of the Mazda parked alongside him. Jax smiles widely as he watches you push the door of your jeep shut.

“I’d have to take you inside and show you.”

The playful blue eyes focused on you cause you to arch your brow. “Since when are you afraid of an audience, Teller?”

“You know I’m not, darlin’” Jax chuckles as you retrieve your wallet. “I just know how shy you get. Wouldn’t want you to hold back if we’re planning on having some fun today.”

Dropping the twenty into the jar in his hand, you can’t deny your best friend a smile as Jax comes to a stop before you.

The parking lot of Teller-Morrow is full of cars, tables of food prepared by Gemma, familiar faces, and a number of shirtless Sons. The car wash is in full swing. You sat in line for fifteen minutes, listening to the car radio, as the line slowly inched it’s way through the gate of the parking lot. The only reason you did not turn around to go home is that you are technicallysupposed to be working the car wash. You had promised Gemma you’d stop by after your shift at work.

“We need men to get their cars washed too, sweetheart,” she’d reminded you as she walked you out last night. “So come on by after work, bring your bikini and a smile.”

Although your arrival is nearly and hour late, one look around the crowded parking lot has confirmed your suspicions. Jax did not need the help. The prospect of seeing him, specifically, dripping in water and suds was enough to bring every woman in Charming down to the autoshop.

“You’re a little over dressed,” he notes, his eyes passing over your outfit.

“I came straight from work.”

“Hey, I’ve been working,” Jax starts, the rolling of your eyes causes him to chuckle.

“I’m sure you have.” The smile on your face grows as you tug your shirt over your head. “For someone’s whose been working, you’re awfullydry.”

“I had to leave some cars for you,” Jax continues, his eyes lingering on green fabric of your bikini top. “When word spread you’d be here, a whole line of cars showed up.”

“I bet,” you laugh sarcastically.

“Besides,”Jax grins as you bend down to retrieve the bucket of soapy water by his feet. “My job’s to bring in the cars, not wash ‘em.”

“I don’t know.” Your eyes pass over the parking lot. You wait until your gaze returns to his to continue. “I think some of these ladies might demand a refund if they don’t see you wet at least once today.”

“You sure you don’t have an ulterior motive, sweetheart?” Jax’s brow arches, tongue passing over his lips as your eyes drop from his. “If you wanna see—“

Jax freezes, his words getting caught between the breath that catches in his lungs. The remnants from the bucketful of soapy water launched his way drips from his head, down his chest, trickling down to his toes.

The initial shock leaves Jax and the on lookers quiet. Jax runs his hand down his face, wiping the suds away. Blinking, he shakes out his hair. The smile on his face growing as he takes in your playful eyes.

Jax runs his hands through his hair. “Was it worth it?”

You allow your eyes to take him in. A warm blush has crept across Jax’s skin by the times have you’ve finished allowing yourself to admire your handiwork.

“Nope.”The response is not what he is expecting. Jax’s brow furrows as he watches you shake your head. Bending down, you retrieve the second bucket, drenching him before he can move out the way. “Nowit’s worth it.”

You only make it two steps before your feet are off the ground, Jax throwing you over your shoulder.

“I was just joking,” you giggle. The sound does little to deter Jax as he carries you across the lot towards the hose. “Jax!”

Music and laughter drift across the backyard of the Cody house. Empty beer bottles and soda cans have been abandoned. The once-bustling backyard is now empty. The party shifted inside to enjoy the steaks and burgers, fresh off the grill, in the sanctuary of air conditioning.

Your arms rest against the hot concrete of the pool’s edge, your cheek pressed against your skin. Eyes closed, you listen to the conversations and music muffled by the glass separating you from your friends.

From the moment your plane touched down at LAX, you have been dreaming of swimming in the Cody’s pool. After mingling and catching up with friends, you haven’t seen since Christmas break, you discarded your sundress and disappeared beneath the cool water.

“Shit, look who decided to fly back out West.” A soft smile finds your lips as the weight of Josh’s hands settles against your waist. “Thought Miss. Ivy League was too good to slum it with us criminals.”

“Trust me, nothing’s changed,” you catch a brief peek at a pair of playful light blue eyes as you look over your shoulder. “I’m only back because I missed the sun.”

J’s chuckle is low, his smile brushing against your shoulder as he guides your hips back to meet his. You could blame the heat as the reason why you don’t move away, say you’re too exhausted to muster up the strength, but the smile on your lips says otherwise. The kiss lingering against your pulse relaxes your limbs, your body thankful you have the edge of the pool to keep you stable.

It is a kiss fueled by a single purpose. To test the waters and disapprove the last conversation you and your ex-boyfriend shared on the phone a week prior.

“When you coming over?” It is a question you knew Josh would ask the moment you’d shared your plans to return home for the summer.

“When I have time,” you’d sighed. “I’m busy, Josh. I’ve got online summer classes, this internship, plus my part-time gig—we’re not in high school anymore. I can’t spend all day hanging by the pool with you.”

The sigh that escapes your lips as J’s fingers slip beneath the strap of your bikini brings a smile to his lips. He’s one step closer to getting his answer. The pressure of his lips against your neck, paired with his wandering fingers, is enough to distract your mind from the heat bogging you down.

“‘S that all you missed?” J drags his thumb along the curve of your breast, urging you to answer his question.

Your silence prompts his touch to wander. The pad of his thumb, rolling over your nipple, coaxes out the answer to his question. Before it can slip out, betraying your declaration made when you left last summer, you bite your lip.

You nod your head, the “yep”you manage not sounding nearly as assured as it did in your head. “Well–that and this pool.”

“So, I take it you don’t wanna go inside?” The soft and meticulous kisses he leaves against your neck match the movements of his fingers as they drift beneath the waistband of your bottoms.

“Josh, your uncles are inside–”

“So I guess we’ve gotta do it here then,” he mutters against your skin.

His face tucks against the warmth of your neck as he guides himself into you. Your mind lags, trapped between the wall and the heat of his touch. Time apart has done little to erase your body from his mind. Two years of a whirlwind romance meant J knew how to reel you back in, no matter how much time has passed. He knew where to place his lips and fingers, to shut off the rational part of your brain meant to warn you from falling back into this cycle.

His thrusts are slow and deep, his fingers helping build the pressure in a way that pushes away your initial fear of how you two might appear. Two exes who are incapable of escaping one another’s orbits. Somehow, the only two from the party who were not interested in eating or escaping the record-breaking heatwave. Two exes who can easily be seen if someone bothered to glance away from their conversation to look through the giant glass doors to the backyard.

From the kitchen, the breathless words Josh mutters against your ear appears to be an innocent attempt at catching up. No one would take a second glimpse. Each time you say you’re finished, the two of you fall back into one another’s orbit. But the grin on his face as you clench and tremble against him says otherwise.

“Welcome home, Ivy League,” he chuckles his lips pressing a final kiss against your shoulder, the warmth of his body slipping away as he pushes himself off the wall.

“You got ice cream?”

You glance away from your freshly opened cup of ice cream, to find your husband kicking off his shoes.

“Yep.”Nodding towards the living room, you redirect your attention to the vanilla ice cream. “The boys wanted some.”

Rio nods, eyes passing to the living room where his three sons can be found laying on the floor. Eyes focused on the movie playing, they both quietly eat their ice cream. The flattened Cold Stone bag resting on the counter causes him to pout.

“Where’s mine?”

Sliding your keys across the counter, you take a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Back at the store.”

Rio’s eyes roll, the playful eyes that briefly meet his causing him to reach forward. You skillfully block his hand, a giggle falling for your lips as you shield your ice cream.

“No one knew you’d be home this early,” you ignore the dark brown eyes trying their best to coax you into sliding the cup back within Rio’s reach. “If you would have let me know, I would’ve gotten you some.”

Rio remains where he is as you leave your explanation at that. He watches silently as you make a point of taking another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. Your gaze lifts, a smile forming as you watch his eyes follow the path of your tongue as you lick the whipped cream for the corner of your lips.

The snide remark stops on the tip of his tongue as Rio takes in the lightweight white crop top and high-waisted cutoffs you wear.

“You went out wearingthat?”

“Last I checked, I can wear whatever I want.”

“I’m not saying that,” he starts. His brow arches as he takes a second look at the shorts you wear. “I’m more worried about the poor kid behind the counter. Probably won’t be able to get you outta his head for a week.”

Even if you don’t bother to entertain your husband’s teasing you know who Rio speaks of. The cocky college kid who worked the counter and flirted with every female to enter the store. The same college kid who melted and turned into a blubbering mess each time you smiled at him.

“Rio, stop teasing him,” you had mumbled the last time Rio joined you on the ice cream run. Your hand had slapped your husband’s chest as his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting against your shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Trust me, you couldn’t handle her, kid,” he chuckled as the poor boy fumbled with the change in his hand.

“What can a girl do?” you sigh, a casual tone falling from your lips. “It’s hot outside. There’s a heatwave.”

“So I’ve heard,” he notes. “You’re walking around with your ass hanging out, fueling every teenage wet dream down the block.”

Your shoulders let off a soft shrug as you take another spoonful of ice cream. Your husband’s gaze drifts lower, ghosting over your spine as your elbows rest against the marble countertop. His grip tightens as you push your hips back allowing your ass to grind against him.

“Jealousy has never been a good look on you, Christopher.”

Rio releases a dry laugh. “So you’rereally not gonna share?”

“Nope.”Your playful eyes drift past him to the clock. “They don’t close for a few hours, so you still have time to go get your own. Say hi to my friend for me.”

“Damn,” Rio’s head shakes, his hands settling on your waist. “First no kiss—“

“I’m sorry I’m not breaking my neck to greet you with a kiss at the door every time you come home,” the relaxing of your body against his chest, as his arms wrap around your middle, betrays the rolling of your eyes.

“Then, you can’t even share some ice cream?” Rio shakes his head. “With your own husband—“

“Who is grown, and old enough to get in the car—“

“The father of your children—“ He adds, his laughter muffled against the warmth of your neck.

“Oh my goodness,”you giggle pushing his hand away as he tries for the cup from a different angle. “Am I going to be hearing that the rest of my life?”

“Every damn day.”

Dropping your spoon into your cup, you push yourself upright before turning to face your husband.

He softly shakes his head, an amused smile toying with his lips as Rio takes your face in his hands. You stand on your toes to meet him halfway. The kiss he leaves against your lips draws you closer. A smile presses against your lips as your arms wrap around his waist pulling his body closer to yours.

“I’mstillnot sharing.” Your giggles fill the air before you can fully complete the sentence, the admission causing Rio’s eyes to roll. Your hand lightly presses against his chest. “Guess you’re not a good as you think.”

“It’s all good,” Rio chuckles, hands slipping into your back pocket to guide your hips closer. “That’s not what I want.”