Imagines [Book Four]

Mayans [Gen Fic X Reader]

When one of the females gets too clingy and can't take a hint, Coco calls in backup.

. .

. .

  Coco sits at a table, picking at the label on his beer bottle as Mya drones on and on next to him. She'd been new to the clubhouse, bright-eyed and eager to please any man in a kutte, and he'd made the unfortunate mistake of sleeping with her a little over a week ago. Most women knew the drill, never seeking out a second encounter unless the Mayan sought her out, but not Mya.

Apparently, she couldn't take a hint like everyone else.

"So, I was thinking that if the boys don't need you tomorrow night, you can take me on a date," Mya says. Her hand lands on his thigh under the table, sliding upward. "You know how much I wanna climb onto the back of your bike."

Coco reaches under the table, grasping her hand. "No," he says as he shoves her hand away.

"Coco!" Mya stands, stomping her foot in a huff. "We've been dating-"

"We're not fuckin' dating!"

She gasps at his explosive response, completely oblivious to those in the clubhouse who've stopped what they were doing in order to pay attention to them. Her expression morphs from one of shock to utter rage within seconds and she grabs up her glass of beer, tossing the liquid into his face. "You need to get your priorities straight, Coco! I'll see you tomorrow and your attitude better be well adjusted or this-" she practically screams at him, gesturing wildly between the two of them, "is over!"

As she stomps off, Coco angrily swipes the beer off his face and slicks back his hair. Laughter erupts behind him as hands clamp down on his shoulders and he rolls his eyes as Angel steps aside to pull out the chair next to him. "Fuck off, Angel."

"Bro, what the fuck?" He continues to laugh as Bishop takes a seat across the table from them, shaking his head in amusement. "I thought you had that shit handled?"

"Pendeja doesn't know how to take a hint." Coco takes a sip of his beer, letting his anger fester. "I was moments away from clockin' her."

"We don't hit women," Bishop reminds him.

"I think we can make an exception just this once."

Angel laughs at how worked up his brother is.

"No." Bishop's answer is final. "If you want her truly gone, get one of the other females to take care of it."

"And risk them getting infatuated with our little Coco," Angel muses. "He'll be starting from square one all over again, Bish."

Coco remains silent, pondering his next course of action. "What if I get an outsider to do it?"

"Female?" Bishop wonders.

"Yeah." Coco sips his beer. "Got a friend in Vegas. She's kind of protective, but won't start shit unless she knows I can't handle it myself."

"You tapped that?" Angel asks, but his brother merely scoffs, shaking his head. He grins as he tries to ruffle Coco's hair. "I didn't know Coco Puff needed a bodyguard."

"Fuck off, man. She grew up in the system. Had a tough childhood, so we bonded over dumb shit before I split for the Marines. She's basically my sister."

"A sister we never met?" Bishop arches an eyebrow at him.

"She's got her own shit going on." Coco shrugs. "She knows about the club, but never really had time to make the drive down here."