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harbouredsoulss · 3 years

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Is There Somewhere?

Author’s note: I was inspired by Halsey’s Is There Somewhere (at least parts of it) which I absolutely love! I am so new to writing fanfiction on tumblr so please bare with me as I work things out. Also any tips on how to navigate the writing world of tumblr would be greatly appreciated, I mainly used to write my fanfiction on Wattpad which is completely different (obviously) than tumblr. I never really got into the whole [y/n] within fanfiction so I have kind of just avoided mentioning Angel’s SO’s name and wrote this from first person perspective. I really hope this is okay. I really hope people enjoy this! Please let me know if you want more, of this or other stuff. I am excited to (hopefully) work on any submissions and other bits of drabble here and there!

Right now I am only wanting to work on Ez and Angel Reyes, Coco, possibly Miguel and a few others. My main focus atm will be Angel and Ez. I love them fellas. I am so nervous about posting this. I have read through it so many times since finishing it. I hope its okay. I have had to stop myself from reading through it again otherwise I will never post it.

Anyways, here is to my first Mayans fic! 💖

Angel Reyes X [OC]

Warnings: sex & swearing - 18 +

Word count: 1.4k words

Summary: Based off a bit of dialogue I thought up “What if for one night we just got out of here. Leave this place behind. If only for a moment”.

Angel is confronted with his SO’s confession of wanting to escape their home for a brief period of time whilst the club and his home, Santo Padre struggle to survive. This is set at the end of S2 beginning of S3 [Eps 1&2] *NO SPOILERS FOR S3*

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“What if we just left Santo Padre.”

“What… like right now?

“Yes.”

“Just leave. It doesn’t have to be long. Just long enough to breath.”

Our fingers were intertwined, with my back against his chest I could feel every intake of breath. I brought his knuckles to my lips kissing them gently. I could see the faint bruising and scarring that littered them. I knew it was not self-inflicted and the chances were the person on the other end looked worse, but I still wished I could kiss the scars away.

His fingers were soft as the traced my left arm. Up and down. I found so much comfort – safety, in these arms.

“With everything that’s going on...” I trailed off not knowing where to continue.

These thoughts have been ringing through my mind for weeks. As had the fear. Fear of rejection. I knew how much being here meant to him. But I needed him; I need this time to just be with him. Before it all comes crashing down.

I could feel his eyes on me.

My head rested perfectly underneath his chin, my body flush against his chest, and legs intertwined with his. Yet I knew he was watching me. Every shallow, shaky intake of breath as I tried to form words. But he didn’t stop touching me. His fingers continued to move. Up and down.

“I know you have the club and your pop… Angel and I am not- I’d never ask you to leave forever… Shit…”

Everything that came out sounded wrong.

Taking a deep breath, I continued. Releasing myself from his hold I twisted around and looked up at him. He looked so relaxed and impassive; I couldn’t read him. This was new for me, usually he was easy to read.

Caressing his cheek slowly I dragged my hand down his face, his neck, traced his collar bone and felt my way to his chest, splaying my hands on the thin shirt separating our skin. I could see his tattoos peeking through the white material.

“I know how much the club means to you, Angel, and you know I would never ask you to leave them for me. I just-everything has been so intense lately. I just want space from it all and I want you with me. I just want things to go back to normal, and fuck. I know things will never be normal again. I just want one moment – maybe a few.” I chuckled, looking back up into his eyes, silently begging, “Just to get me through these months with you out risking your ass.”

Trailing off I didn’t know what else to say without actually begging. Everything had been laid out on the table. It was all up to him now.

Staring deep into his eyes my mind continued to whirl with so many thoughts.

Would he consider it? I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted me – that he loved me, but was it enough?

Things were hard now, Angel was needed. We all were.

I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be the end if he said no., I would feel incredibly insecure, silly and stupid but we would move on. Probably end up screwing our brains out and just move on… and I would be okay with that. At least... I would tell myself that – convince myself if need be.

It wouldn’t stop the fear though. I knew what has coming – hell its already arrived. Border shut-down. The DOJ moving in on the Cartel and the Mayans – Angel. I couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t lose me. Even just the thought alone was dangerous.

I scrunched his shirt in the palm of my hand, and brought it back down using my fingers to smooth out the crinkles. I looked back up and found his gaze locked on the doorway across the room. Biting my lip, I bit back the disappointment.

“Angel,” I pleaded, “can you look at me please, baby.”

He took a moment, which felt like an eternity. But slowly he turned his gaze back to me. I smiled faintly. It was probably cringeworthy. But I tried. I waited for something – anything. A smirk, a smile. Hell, I would have taken a chuckle at this point.

I couldn’t get a read on him. I could see the wheels turning in his mind but seeing and knowing were two different things and I had to know – I just had to. Would we stay or would we go?

More time had passed in silence with nothing but our breathing filling up the space in the room. Shaking my head, I propped myself on the sofa preparing to move and leave.

“Fine. It was a stupid idea, forget it.”

Before I could even blink, Angel had leaned forward, grabbing my wrist, he dragged me back down, bringing my face within an inch of his own – a breath apart. Lips grazing one another’s. I took a shallow breath, not in fear but anticipation.

“I can’t…” breathing heavily. Letting me go, he gripped my neck, “If you had asked me this a year ago, I would have said no. But I am so fucking in love with you, mi amor, I can’t lose you.”

“I’m right here Angel.”

I claimed his lips quickly in a burst of desperation. I needed him. I needed to feel him. Feel something.

His grip on my neck tightened as he kissed me deeper. My hands splayed across his chest keeping myself upright as I kissed him fiercely. The man I loved .

I was feral with need. I gripped his kutte, dragging it down his shoulders. Our mouths separated briefly in our desperate need to become closer.

One by one our clothes were strewn across the living room floor, our naked bodies intertwined. The swell of my breasts pressed to his naked chest, hands groping his naked flesh.

“Angel,” I whimpered as his mouth found the crook of my neck, lips puckering as he sucked. Teeth bared against flesh nipping my skin.

“Fuck,” he breath heavily against my skin, “you’re so fucking wet,” fingers lighting tracing my pussy, fingers massaging my clit.

Pulling away briefly, his hands gripped my hips, grinding me down against his length, rubbing my sensitive flesh against him, up and down. The pressure began to build slowly.

I was hazy with lust as I looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

Releasing my waist, he let me begin to pick up the pace, his hands found my breast, fingers tweaking my nipple as I rubbed myself against him.

“I need you,” he whispered breathlessly, my breast engulfing his mouth.

I leaned back, mouth still latched to my skin, my hand gripping his cock, lining him at my entrance.

In unison gasps left our mouths as his cock pushed its way inside me.

I lifted myself up, feeling him slide ever so slowly out, and pushed myself down. I repeated this over and over at a leisurely pace. I revelled in the feel of him inside me, and our sticky bodies connected as one.

Sweat slicked across his forehead.

He was watching me as I rode him, one hand playing with my nipple, tweaking the little bud, whilst the other rubbed my clit – over and over.

I took my time with Angel, riding him at a slow pace. It was torture, but I loved it. We needed this. To just feel each other. I could have done this forever.

Yet Angel needed more.

He needed to feel like he owned me. That he had me.

“Fuck me papi,” I moaned, “Fuck me hard.”

The sound of skin on skin slapping together echoed throughout the house. As did our moans, and my screams for Angel to not stop – to never stop fucking me. The pressure was building higher and higher as Angel pounded me harder and harder, my fingers rubbing furiously against my clit.

Nails dug deep into the flesh of his shoulders as we got further to chasing our orgasms. Blood seeping from the cuts.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Those were his last words he uttered before spilling himself inside me.

I screamed his name as I felt himself spurt inside, taking me with him. My body shook as my orgasm washed through me, my lips seeking his once again as I rode him slowly through it. His cock slipped out briefly, trailing his cum over his skin. I slipped him back inside not done with the feel of him inside me.

It took a few moments of contentment and calm to wash over us. We were still in our post-sex haze, drunk on each other. He was still inside me, his cum leaking out onto our skin, and onto the sofa.

“I take that as a yes?” I breathed, smirking.

All I got in response was his lips on mine, hands massaging my ass, cock hardening inside me.

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