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garbinge · 2 years ago

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The Odds of a Jawbreaker

EZ Reyes & OC Julia ‘Jules’ Silva

Day 18 from these April Prompts: Jawbreaker Sweets

Summary: After some time away, EZ and childhood friend Jules flip the odds of what life could be for them. AU of Mayans - I’d like to call it a baseball AU but we’re like not quite there yet lol.

Words: 2.5k

A/N: I’ve been having a rough couple of days so I’m not really sure what this is but, I hope you all enjoy! lol.

Warnings: Light angst

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @narcolini @justreblogginfics

Her satin dress and long hair blew in the Santa Padre cool December air. She quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she eagerly awaited for the door she just knocked on to open. Her mind was jumping all over the place, while it was nice to be back home, she definitely didn’t miss the condescending and prying comments that always happened at her family’s annual Christmas party.

“Are you seeing anyone?” “Why didn’t you major in engineering like your parents?” “You’re a freelance photographer?” “Not a lot of money in that, is there?” And that was just the ones she could remember, she definitely let a lot of them go in one ear and out the other but sometimes some of them found a way of sticking. That’s why she found herself at the Mango Street address, banging on the front door nervously waiting for someone to answer.

“Hellllllooooo!!!” She yelled and peaked through the window hoping to catch someone walking by.

“Are you crazy? Or just stupid?” Angel’s voice alerted the woman as he opened the door. His jaw hit the ground when he saw who was standing there.

“You wanna retract that statement or what?” She pushed the man slightly as she slid next to him to enter the house. “Where’s EZ?”

The girl moved around the house like she had never left, like she was home again, and in a way she was. This house was where she grew up, after school she’d be here till the late hours of the night studying, before school she’d come over and trade lunches, the weekends were spent playing endless amounts of the same video game over and over again on the couch. All with her best friend, Ezekiel Reyes and his brother Angel.

“Come on in, Julia.” Angel sarcastically retorted as he was still shocked holding the door open.

“I’ve got a one track mind right now Ange, and I’m determined to bring your brother in on it with me.” The hallway was just in her steps when she heard a familiar voice behind her coming from the kitchen.

“Jules?”

A grin the size of the moon grew on her face and she turned around to stare at her best friend. It had been a few years since they last saw each other. They were both at different colleges, at opposite sides of the state which made visiting rare and honestly non-existent.

“You want to go on an adventure?” Her face was glowing in excitement.

EZ stood there, a confused look on his face but still a glimmer of amusement peaking through. His hands were perched on his zip up, gripping the opening as he stared at the girl trying to comprehend exactly what she meant. But then it hit him. This was Julia. His Julia. Wild Jules. Whatever she had up her sleeve was probably going to be the most entertaining thing he’d done since he saw her last. He had missed that, the spontaneity the girl brought to his life, the laughs, and even in the midst of the chaos, she brought a feeling of trust. A feeling of home.

“Let me grab my keys.” EZ moved so swiftly to grab the keys to the pick up truck while the girl made her way back outside, squeezing by Angel again.

“Merry Christmas, Angel.” Jules squeezed his arm as she made her way back through the front door. “Tell Pops I say the same and sorry for kidnapping EZ!” She called out now that she was on the porch making her way down the steps.

Angel stood there dumbfounded again, confused to all hell at what was going on. His brother was now making his way past him to follow the girl who now stood impatiently in the driveway. Angel gripped his hand around EZ’s bicep, stopping him in his steps for a moment.

“What the fuck is going on?” Angel asked, shaking his head truly just wanting to wrap his head around the last few minutes.

EZ licked his lips and gave that infamous grin of his and tapped Angel’s hand before removing it off his arm with a shrug. “It’s Jules.”

Two words. As if that was the only explanation that was needed. For Felipe, who had just made his way to the living room to see what all the commotion was, it was all the explanation that was needed. Angel looked back at his father, as if he was waiting for him to offer up more information but he just followed suit with his youngest son's expression and shrugged, lifting his hands up and retreating back to his bedroom.

After the two piled into the truck, EZ started to drive, following the girl’s directions with no clue where they were headed.

“What brings you back home?” EZ asked, gripping the wheel.

“Same as you.” Jules was now putting her window down so the breeze was in her face.

“If I recall, I’m never invited to the Silva Family Christmas Party,” Ez teased, knowing all about the annual holiday party the girl’s family threw.

“Every year that passes I’m closer and closer to my invite being revoked.” She laughed.

It was strange. Even though the two picked up like no time had passed so easily, it was overwhelming. Not so much them or their friendship, but what it meant. The last time they were together, there was a pressure, a pressure of leaving behind all what was expected of them, which was a lot. Their last conversation was an argument about not going through with it. Jules was begging EZ to follow what he wanted to do, pursue baseball, while EZ was telling her she couldn’t live in her parents' shadow anymore. Jules did it. She dropped out of school after the first semester and picked up photography and began travelling, working for magazines and companies on spec. It wasn’t a luxurious life but it was one she was proud of.

They pulled up to the ice cream parlor that was downtown and before EZ even put the car in park Jules was opening the door to exit. All he could do was chuckle, and open his door as quickly as he put the truck in park. As he exited, he saw the girl twirling around in the empty parking lot, her hair a mess from the car’s open window breeze and looking like a fool in her expensive dress clashing with the run down ice cream shop in the background. But yet, to EZ it was a picture perfect moment.

“C’mon, Stanford. You’re buying me a sundae.” She waved him over.

“And me?” He passed the girl and began walking backwards as his eyebrows raised a couple times at his best friend.

“I’ll buy YOU a sundae next week, same day, same time. It’s a date!” Her voice boomed in the empty parking lot.

“I gotta get back to school, Jules.” EZ’s voice was soft in comparison to hers as he held the door open for her.

“No you don’t.” The girl denied as she slipped by him rapidly entering the shop.

EZ didn’t bother arguing, it hadn’t even been 20 minutes and he wasn’t going to have this conversation just yet with the girl, not to mention he was on a high just from seeing her. Her energy was contagious and he was just happy to have this moment with her.

“Vanilla Sundae, hot fudge, strawberries, rainbow sprinkles, anndddddd,” the girl paused for a minute as she overlooked the toppings menu one more time before finishing her order, “and a jawbreaker.”

Her head swiveled over her shoulder as she looked at EZ and asked him what he wanted. That was it. That was the moment. Their last conversation, the argument. The look she gave him transported him back to that day.

They had just left some shitty party and were walking home. They decided to walk through the shops downtown specifically because they heard some street music. Jules was absolutely drunk off her ass that night and the two of them danced the night away in the middle of the Santo Padre streets until she spun around so much she quite literally got sick. EZ held her hair back for her and just in typical Jules fashion, she bounced back immediately, wanting to tackle the next adventure of the night, which happened to be getting EZ to skip out on Stanford and go into minor league baseball.

She looked over her shoulder at him just as she was doing now, giving him that look, with those eyes. He almost forgot how he could say no to a face that beautiful. The key word being almost. That night he just brought her close against his chest, resting his head above hers. Offering no words, just hoping the comfort would give her some time of answer.

“Don’t go, EZ.” She mumbled into his chest.

“I think we should get you home, Jules.” EZ squeezed the girl and resumed their walk home.

EZ knew he loved her then, but he decided to take the route of breaking her heart instead, which also happened to be the path where he broke his own as well. He packed up for Stanford, missed saying goodbye to Jules and sent a 3 sentence note to her house knowing she wouldn’t have read it until she was back home in a few months.

“EZ, do you want anything?” The girl asked again and he shook himself out of his head.

“Same as you.” He stepped up throwing a $20 on the counter and his arm around the girl as she leaned into his chest.

“I missed this.” She mumbled against him.

“Me too, Jules.”

The two sat in the truck, windows down, eating their ice cream in silence, just the sounds of spoons hitting cartons and the occasional teeth chatter from the mix of the cool air and the cold ice cream.

Ez barely touched his, which allowed Jules to finish hers and then start scooping from his cup.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked as her spoon snuck into his bowl.

“You were right.” EZ said not able to hold back anymore. The memory of that night was eating him alive. Especially those last words.

“I love you, but I can’t be here to watch you give your all to a life you don’t want.”

“Then don’t.”

Then don’t. EZ ate those words the minute they left his mouth.

“I tend to be right about a lot, care to elaborate?” The girl was clearly still unaware of what EZ meant.

“I shouldn’t have gone to school, I should’ve joined the training program.” EZ spit out words that were shocking to her.

“Is it too late?” Logic took over, she wasn’t going to pull the “told you so” card, she wasn’t going to make a point, she was just going to try and see if it was feasible.

“I’m a year out, as year out of practice. It’s nearly impossible.” EZ shook his head and leaned against his arm that was rested on the window of the car.

“Nearly.” Jules said, grabbing his ice cream from him and finishing it off. “There’s some wiggle room there.”

EZ smirked at that and let out a chuckle, Jules wasn’t one to give up easily, if there was .01% of a chance she would take it.

“So what?” Her mouth was full of melted vanilla ice cream as she spoke, “we just gotta practice? Fill out some paper work? We’ll get Angel in the outfield, you tend to aim better when you have him as a target, then we’ll go down and fill out whatever we gotta fill out.”

She was so hopeful that it made EZ start to gain a little aspiration.

“We?” He asked, looking over at the girl now.

“I’m working on a hometown piece for this magazine, I’ll be here for at least a month.” She now had the jawbreaker in her hand.

“I never understood why you ordered those, you never eat them.” EZ’s attention was now being drawn to the candy.

“They make for good magic 8 balls.” She shrugged and opened the door to the truck so she was now standing in the parking lot. “If it’s blue, we go on the second part of the adventure I had planned and then think about baseball, if it’s red, we go to the batting cages in El Centro and then the second part of my adventure after.”

“What’s the point in that, it’s win win?” EZ was leaning over in the truck so she could hear him.

“Exactly, we make our own odds, Reyes.” She said like he should’ve been aware of that.

She smashed the jawbreaker on the ground and it broke into a few pieces to reveal the purple inside of the candy.

EZ let out a laugh, moving so his head was leaning against the head rest. “Create your own odds all you want but fate has a way of intervening.” He shook his head waiting for the girl to get back in the truck but when he looked over he saw she was gone.

A pit filled his stomach and he was scanning the lot looking for her before exiting the vehicle himself, sweat starting to drip from his head as he continued to look for her. His eyes stopped as he looked inside the ice cream shop to see her leaving with the bucket of jawbreakers in her arms, struggling to hold it up but not one peep out of her asking for help.

With a deep sigh of relief, EZ walked over to her and grabbed the bucket out of her arms.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you’re doing?” His confusion not only on his face but in his tone.

“Making due with the odds given to us.” She shrugged like it was obvious. “It was purple. So we come up with something else to do. We’re gonna take these to the park and use them as baseballs. I know you have a bat and glove in the trunk, you always do.”

EZ was at a loss for words, this was Jules, her mind was always working and not being around her as much made him forget just how hard her mind did work.

“I’m in, but only if we make bets on each one we hit.” EZ placed the bucket in the bed of the pickup as he stared at the girl on the other side.

“Will I be a millionaire?” The girl’s voice went high as she interlocked her hands and kicked her leg up to mock EZ.

“Hey, I thought you were all about the odds.” He questioned her with a smile knowing the teasing remark would earn him a look.

They climbed into the truck when Jules shook her head and smiled. “Shut up and drive, Reyes. Let’s get you into that training program.”

#EZ Reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x oc #Mayans MC #Mayans FX #MayansMC #Mayans mc fanfic #Mayans Fanfic #Mayans AU #AU #ez reyes x oc #my writing #garbinge

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artemiseamoon · 2 years ago

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Death Kiss

Preview: chapter 3

Fic info

Words: 2,281

Warnings: vampire Hunter stuff (killing, blood, bites, etc)

A03: Artemiseamoon

✨ this is a preview ✨ full chapters only on A03✨

Late afternoon

The TV plays in the background, EZ and Angel are on the couch, spread out, drinking a beer and occasionally chuckling at the screen. While they watch the movie, Blu finishes heating up some takeout then puts it in a bowl. Passing the brothers, she checks on Luz and tries to get her to eat.

The brunette is paler than yesterday, she’s sweating more than before and has a glazed look in her eyes. When offered the bowl, Luz gently pushes it away,

“I can’t.” she whispers, then rests her head back on the pillow.

“You need to eat something,” Blu tries again, Luz still wouldn’t take it.

Behind them, Blu hears one of the brothers approaching. Soon EZ joins them and sits at the end of the bed.

“Hey Luz,”

He waits until she looks at him to finish his thought,

“She’s right. The less you eat, the faster the virus moves through your bloodstream.”

Angel put his feet on the table, his eyes still on the screen, “don’t eat and you’ll be one of those vampire freaks sooner than later.”

EZ glanced at his brother as he spoke, then focused on Luz again,

“Are you feeling hungry at all? A craving you can't describe?”

She lifts her head from the pillow and tries to sit up, “no - I don’t know - maybe? I don’t want food but - my stomach is unsettled and I'm still thirsty.”

“It’s starting, “ EZ rubs the back of his neck as his eyes find Luz's again, "you need to eat. It buys all of us more time, including you.”

He picks up the crackers, the ones he placed on the bedside table a few hours ago. Luz studies him with tired eyes as he holds them out.

"Come on, you can do it." EZ reassures her with a small nod.

Reluctantly, Luz reaches in, takes two crackers, and eats them. After swallowing them, she sticks out her tongue,

“Happy?"

EZ chuckles, “have a few more, then we’ll see.”

Luz and EZ traded a glance, then she eventually took the box.

“You’ll be alright here?” Blu asks her, after getting a small nod, Blu leaves her and EZ then joins Angel on the couch.

As she sits, Angel glances at her while holding out the bag of chips,

“I’m good.” she declines with a small wave.

Silence passes between them for a couple of minutes, a short distance away, Luz and EZ are speaking quietly.

“Hey Angel, why the priests? Are they hunters too?"

He takes a swig of his beer before answering, “The Vatican sponsors the whole thing, pay us too. The Padre's play a role but we do the dirty work."

Blu let herself relax further on the couch, “I keep learning new shit everyday - so, are you guys religious then?”

“Not everybody, it depends. Me? I don’t go to church or nothing, but something about the Padre sayin’ prayer before we go in - I don’t know, “he shrugs, “it’s comforting or whatever.”

“I could see that."

“You and bite-size over there, why’d you save her?”

Blu observes Luz and EZ across the way, “she reminds me of someone I couldn’t save a long time ago. Guess you could say I'm extra protective of her."

Blu gets quiet and reflective; she didn’t plan on sharing that, not out loud at least.

“So this is like a second chance thing?” Angel asked.

“Yeah, something like that.”

✨read more on A03✨

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A03: artemiseamoon

More Mayans

More of 2022 Frightfest

#bishop losa #ez reyes #Angel Reyes #Mayans Mc #john carpenters vampires au #fic: death kiss

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artemiseamoon-ficart · 1 year ago

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Death Kiss

Fic complete ✨✨✨✨

New eye boards

#bishop losa #ez Reyes #angel eyes #Mayans mc #vampire hunters #vampire Hunter Mayans #Arte’s Frightfest #fic: death kiss #John carpenters vampires au #ofcs of color #poc ofcs

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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Valentine's Day Bingo Completed and Scheduled!

All fics have been written and booked in between 31st Jan - 29th Feb

Some of the character selections have changed because the pairings weren't working for me.

All fics are currently on early release over on Patreon if you want to read them before they hit Tumblr otherwise please see the schedule below:

31st Jan: Whiskey - Che 'Taza' Romero x Ben Harrison - Taza and Ben haven't talked about what happened on New Year's Eve. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Hates Valentine's Day)

1st Feb: Tinder - Terry Bruno x Reader - Terry discovers you’re single when he downloads Tinder (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Dating App)

2nd Feb: Polaroid - EZ Reyes x Reader (NSFW) - EZ finds the pictures you’ve left in his book (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Naughty Pictures)

3rd Feb: Coffee Shop AU: Blind Date - Neron 'Creeper’ Vargas x Reader - Neron is surprised to meet his blind date (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Blind Date)

4th Feb: Love Letter - Criminal!Joe (feat: Terry Bruno) - Terry gives you the letter Joe left for you. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Love Letter)

5th Feb: Moment - Filip 'Chibs’ Telford x Reader (NSFW) - Chibs savours the moments he has with you. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Secret Relationship)

6th Feb: Napa - Juan 'Juice’ Ortiz x Reader - Juice takes you on an overnight trip to Napa. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Wine Tasting)

7th Feb: High - Jubal Valentine x Reader - The evening takes a violent turn when you run into your ex Nestor Vertiz. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Seeing Your Ex)

8th Feb: Bold - Damien Powell x Reader - Damien hasn't kissed a woman in years. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Champagne Kisses)

9th Feb: Red - Bobby Goren x Reader - You tease Bobby in the Squad Room. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Red)

10th Feb: Makapipi Falls - Jesse Boone x Reader - Jesse tells you the truth about his feelings during a trip to Makapipi Falls. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Feelings)

11th Feb: Commitment - Tig Trager x Reader - You'll never be Tig's wife, but then again he'll never be your husband. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Expensive Jewellery)

12th Feb: Moonlight - Benny Miller x Reader - Benny's always found the water soothing. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Moonlit Stroll)

13th Feb: King (NSFW) - Angel Reyes x Reader - Angel's Reina needs her king. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Lace)

14th Feb: Mix Tape - Will Trent x Reader - Will finds an unexpected gift on his desk. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Homemade Gift)

15th Feb: Stillwater - Stuart Scola x Reader - Things take a sinister turn after a surprise gift arrives at the house. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Secret Admirer)

19th Feb: When in Rome - Scott Forrester x Reader - Scott waits up for you after a depressing case. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Hotel Stay)

20th Feb: Break (NSFW) - Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader - Beau inspires you to take a break. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Forgetting)

22nd Feb: Blossom (NSFW) - Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader - Riz and you invite a third into the bedroom. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Wild Night)

23rd Feb: Paint (NSFW) - OA Zidan x Reader - You help Omar to relax in a creative way. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Body Paint)

24th Feb: Fair - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader - You find Nik sitting on your doorstep. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Single on Valentine's Day)

25th Feb: Gifts - Nestor Oceteva x Reader - Nestor always works Valentine's Day. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Working on Valentine's Day)

27th Feb: No Questions Asked - Damien Powell x Reader - You give Damien a place to call home when he first arrives in Budapest. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Romantic Meal)

28th Feb: Kicking - Bishop Losa x Reader - Bishop feels his daughter kick for the first time during Coco's wedding reception. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Slow Dance)

29th Feb: Pink - Connor Rhodes x Reader - Connor thinks back to the day the two of you met. (Valentine’s Day Bingo: Wearing Pink)

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zaenight · 2 years ago

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Avaliable on wattpad : zae-night

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Avaliable on wattpad : zae-night

Available on wattpad : zae-night

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the-purity-pen · 4 years ago

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First of I'm dying at her reading Dorian Grey 🥺 my baby.

Secondly HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.

that pent up tension. The Little Moments. Seriously just beautiful with the way you write that. I knew I wasn't ready for the filth but I definitely wasn't ready for the prose. Holy shit.

I can't even comment on the filth because I am officially simping for EZ more than I ever have. Please may I have a second part 🥺

INDULGE ME PLEASE!!!!!!! Ok but a dark academia vibe with College!EZ…. you share a writing intensive course w/ him (philosophy, creative writing, anthropology, classics, a novel based course or something) and he’s one of those always prepared types. Extra pens, extra highlighter. He’s an all around type too, definitely plays a sport, probably is apart of a club of some sort…. Only wears glasses to read but he’s so cute when he does wear them (he hates wearing them because it makes him look old like felipe lolll) ….. the both of you dont really interact till you disagree with something he says in the class you share and now you’re on his radar because he just has to pick your brain…… no one ever really disagrees with him…. He likes it?!?!?!

Anyways yeah…. This had been on my mind ALOT

those damned romantics [college!ez reyes x reader]

A/N: Well, fuck. I read this, was immediately struck, and could not let sleeping dogs lie. So... this is an entire fic now, and I'm not sorry? This is unedited, so sorry about whatever it actually is. Maybe I'll add the taglist later?

Pairing: College!Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k (I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK -- As soon as you sent this ask, I started typing and didn't stop) of enemies-to-lovers literary rivals, just like in the old books you both love to read.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ ONLY. A good-old-fashioned library hatefuck, with fingering and some slight dom!EZ.

Summary: See the lovely @joannasteez ask, supra. I took some liberties. Some unedited enemies-to-lovers goodness.

You didn’t think that “Classics & Creative Writing” aka “Lit 403” would be an easy class, per se.

Had you been comfortable in your own hubris because you’d already read a good number of the novels on the required reading list for the semester? Sure. With a heavy tilt toward gothic fiction and crime, and a syllabus full of Shelley, Capote, and Connell, you felt comfortable that you would be able to timely complete most of your assignments.

The seminar half of the portion seemed simple enough -- complete the required reading by the time of class, and participate in a seminar without about two-dozen other likeminded literary nerds. You would pencil-pick the classics within an inch of their lives -- chewing over themes, motifs, usage of simile and metaphor.

The writing half of the course? Pick an “auteur” whose work you would attempt to emulate in order to come up with your own short story.

This all would have been simple enough for your literature-loving heart, if it wasn’t for the infuriatingly smug, self-assured, beautiful jockish boy who sat back-row-center, annoyingly, immediately in the seat behind yours.

He thought he was so cute. And so smart. And when you had stumbled over your explanation of isolation and ambition in “Frankenstein,” Ezekiel “The Golden Boy” Reyes had only been too quick to swoop in and snake your point from your very mouth-- correcting your point about feminist writing in the Romantic era, receiving all the credit from the professor while you sat, mouth agape, at the loss of your answer.

If that boy thought he could slide into your idea the way he slid into home plate, securing another win for himself (both on the field and off, it seemed), he had another thing coming. (You weren’t being a dick -- not that you had endeavoured to keep tabs on him or anything, it was just common knowledge that he was here on a baseball scholarship. Taking the whole student-athlete thing a little too seriously, if anyone had asked you.)

“Ambition, coupled with a false sense of pride -- of being a godlike creator -- though of course, not actually being a god-- not unlike the prevalent concept of toxic masculinity in the 21st century, is Victor’s downfall. It feels only right that Mary Shelley -- a woman -- would be the one to shine the light on this flaw and how men fail as nurturers,” EZ had shrugged, as though the point was so simple.

You whipped your head around after the professor had smiled at him and moved on, only to find Ezekiel already staring at you from behind his (infuriatingly hot) reading specs. Were they designer frames? You furrowed your brows in what you hoped was an intimidating glare.

EZ just smiled his annoyingly bright “el nino de oro” smile at you, and winked. Winked. It might have been hot. Might have made you melt in your seat just a bit, if he wasn’t such an asshole.

Oh, it was on, motherfucker.

Ezekiel often saw you in the library, head bent down, poring over your worn copy of whatever novel you were reading in class that week. Worn like you had brought it from home -- not purchased it from the student store for class.

So you were a reader, then. He’d thought it was cute.

You would highlight and tab pages before switching gears to make notes, both in the margins of the text, and in your tabbed notebook you always lugged with you to class.

EZ had to respect the hustle -- not many people still took handwritten notes for class. Come to think of it, the only time he had ever seen you behind a computer screen was when you brought your laptop to group for the short-story portion of the class, scrolling through the running word doc that was your obnoxiously-detailed outline. Nah. He totally wasn’t looking over your shoulder. Not in seminar, and not in group.

You were just a lit-snob who wasn’t going to make it any other major. He needn’t concern himself with you.

Right?

So how exactly was it that he found himself sliding into the empty seat across from you at your table in the corner of the library?

He liked studying on the second floor -- not as busy and chatty (people shouldn’t come to the library to socialize under the guise of studying) as the first floor; not as intensely quiet as the third floor, where people would glare at you for turning your page too loudly.

No, the second floor was a good mix of hushed chatter and respectable pockets of studious quiet.

You hadn’t looked up from your copy of “The Picture of Dorian Grey” as he’d approached (he had heard you’d intended to write a similarly-postmodern short story in the flowery vein of Oscar Wilde and Bronte. Not that you’d shared that with him -- he was just … observant, that’s all). You hadn’t even flinched when he slumped down his bag onto the empty chair next to the seat he was now pulling out.

“I told you, Anna,” you had breathed, voice in a pleasant register just above a whisper, “I don’t care if the barista is cute, I’m not going with you for more coffee. I need to focus, and I can only have so many Red-Eyes in one week…” your voice trailed as you looked up to meet the glinting, mossy-amber eyes of none other than Ezekiel-motherfucking-Reyes.

He was most decidedly not Anna. And he was also regarding you with an infuriatingly easy (hah) stare, smiling in a facile way, right into your quickly-souring face.

“Just how many Red-Eyes do you drink in one week?” Ezekiel responded in a low, velvety rumble, brow quirked and arms flexing beneath his practice jersey as he made himself comfortable in the seat across from yours, already unpacking his bag, though his eyes never left yours.

“Enough to keep me awake during your self-important soliloquies during class,” you snipped, primly. “And who told you you could sit here?” You nodded toward the previously-empty seat he was now all-too-keenly making himself comfortable in. “My friend is sitting here.”

There. If you kept your tone unfriendly, just to the right of a little bitchy, he’d know he was unwelcome.

EZ chuckled at that, seemingly unfazed by your little dig at his class participation.

“An empty seat and your ‘friend’ is sitting here? Yeah, that tracks,” he chuckled at his clever little barb that you didn’t actually have any friends, before taking in the downright murderous glare you were leveling him with and continuing, “Nah, I’ve seen Anna chatting up Marco every time I go to get coffee. The two of them aren’t going anywhere,” he shrugged, now unpacking his extra pens, highlighters and little moleskine notebook. A writer’s notebook. Pretentious.

Strike one, you thought. Terminology Ezekiel would be all-too familiar with. You’d tried to annoy him into leaving, and that was a big swing-and-miss. If at first you don’t succeed? Try, try again.

You sniffed lightly, steely eyes never leaving Ezekiel’s stupidly-muscular form. How did he always look so warm? The second floor of the library really was the prime study spot on campus, but friendly to the perpetually-cold it was not.

“Did you just come from practice, or something?” You lilted, innocuous.

EZ looked at you, eyes lightened with a note of surprise. A sincere question about his day? Was hell freezing over?

He chuffed a little chuckle, scrubbing his hand along the back of his neck as he responded, “Uh, yeah, actually…”

“Ah,” you’d nodded and cut in before he could finish. “So that’s what that smell is.”

It would have been comical how quickly Ezekiel’s face had dropped into a frown, if it didn’t make your gut drop just the slightest bit. Too mean?

To his credit, Ezekiel seemed to recover like your barb was nothing.

“Not surprised you can’t differentiate,” he shrugged, now starting to thumb through his own copy of Oscar Wilde. “Your head being as far up your own ass as it is.”

Strike two.

Was Ezekiel really so unbothered by your shitty little barbs? Did it really just roll off of his back like it was nothing?

He glanced up from beneath his lashes (annoyingly long, of course -- was anything about this boy not annoying?) at you. He smirked at your scrunched brows and the firm set of your jaw.

Fuck, you were hot when you were mad.

To add insult to injury, he kept talking. No use in hiding the ball, right?

“You know,” he breezed, as though he hadn’t just insulted you, “You’re pretty cute when you’re pissed at me.” He winked.

The audacity of this boy.

You sat, mouth agape, as Ezekiel carried on like he hadn’t just said that to you, highlighting a line in the book and making a little note in his moleskine. You tugged the sleeves of your cropped hoodie down over your fingers, twisting the cuffs between your fingertips in your anxious anger at the stupidly hot boy in front of you.

Before you realized what you were doing, you capped your little blue pen and flung it straight into his perfectly-perfect face. The pen gently plinked off of Ezekiel’s curved nose and his designer frames before landing with a gentle thunk onto the paper of his notebook.

Had you really just -- ??

To your credit, even you looked surprised at the little childish move your frustrations had wrought.

Oh shit. You stared into EZ’s golden eyes for any hint of anger, retaliation, or just what he’d do next, surprised when ...

EZ’s momentary expression of shock quickly melted into a warm little quirk of his lips, not even flinching as he reached into his bag. He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled out a spare pen, clapping it down onto the table and sliding it over to your side, like it was a surreptitiously good card that would guarantee you the winning hand in a high-stakes poker game.

He smirked at you again before going back to his notes.

You broke eye contact to look down at the pen he had offered, a warm, tingling sense of welcome surprise at the realization that the pens he carried were in the same blue ink you favored,

Well, fuck. That had no business being as hot as it was.

You opened your mouth, a squeaking little gasp escaping your lips as you took in Ezekiel’s fastidiously moving hand, long fingers gripped around his own pen as he made neat little notes in the margin of his book, not unlike the way you did.

“Ezekiel,” you breathed, the thoaty register of your voice enough to break Ezekiel’s concentration. He glanced at you from beneath his lashes once more.

“I -- I’m sorry,” you began… but Ezekiel held up a large hand, waving away your apology.

“If this is the part where you give some kind of Elizabeth Bennett-esque speech about how our respective pride makes us similar, it’s really not necessary. I know what kind of girl you are,” Ezekiel murmured, sliding his hand across the table to grip your fingers now, his long legs beneath the table had somehow come to rest on either side of where yours were in your seat.

“Oh?” You queried gently, brow now raised at Ezekiel’s rejoinder, “And what kind of girl am I?”

“The kind who makes fiction her identity. You bring your own books to class. You’re protective over words that aren’t even yours. You’re smart, sure, if not a little defensive,” EZ was smirking again, as though his read of you wasn’t mildly insulting. “Other people can like books, too, you know?” The smirk softened into a warm little smolder.

The apples of your cheeks felt tingly and warm -- whether it was from embarrassment over EZ’s facile read of your character and your minor flaws or heat from just how turned on this boy was incomprehensibly making you feel, you didn’t know. What you did know was that the warmth was spreading down the column of your throat and settled into a rushing bloom across your collarbones and chest.

“As opposed to you?” You could feel Ezekiel’s legs caging your own from the boundaries of your chair, and had decided in a split second of devilish determination to have a little fun. If he could make fun of you, you could return the favor, right? You left your lips parted as you trailed the toe of your sneaker from Ezekiel’s ankle, slowly dragging it up his calf as you continued. “A self-important, proud little boy only so eager to show he’s more than a pretty face? Trying to be Heathcliff doesn’t make you swoon-worthy. But it does make you a bit of a dick.”

With that, you pushed back from your table, tossing your pens (and the one Ezekiel had given you) into your back, tabbing the page of “Dorian Grey” you’d just highlighted before snapping it shut. You smugly noted the look of surprise-turned-rage that crossed Ezekiel’s godlike features, his full lips twisting into something dour.

You leaned over the table once more, invading Ezekiel’s space as you let your lips linger closely to his…

“Ya know? You’re pretty hot when you’re mad.”

You turned on your heel, content to sway your way out of the library in smug little victory, when Ezekiel called softly behind you,

“You’ll always be fond of me, babe,” he paraphrased, making your steps falter as he finished, “I represent to you all of the sins you’ve never had the courage to commit.”

The line of “Dorian Grey” you’d just finished highlighting for your paper, right before he showed up.

This boy was impossible. Strike three? You weren’t sure anymore who won.

It was Oscar Wilde seminar day, and Ezekiel was floundering in his explanation of art imitating life, and the surface of something versus its true nature. He was mostly there, you’d give him credit. But he was missing something important --

“I think what Ezekiel is trying to say,” you piped up from the seat in front of him, “is that the postmodern lens Oscar Wilde writes in distinguishes it from other Romantic-era literature in that it relies less on the influence of nature and naturalism, and focuses more on industrial society and its inherent flaws.” You paused before continuing, “It’s like that one quote from the book, ‘Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming.’ The other Romantics never would have put it like that.”

At your professor’s smiling nod, you turned back in your seat to regard Ezekiel. Only to find, once more, that he was already staring at you, a grey and thunderous storm brewing behind his usually-kind coffee eyes.

You shrug, awarding him a little smirk of your own, a flutter of your lashes, before turning around in your seat and resuming your handwritten note-taking, feeling more than a little “Elizabeth Bennett” proud.

It wasn’t until later, when you were in the library, that you saw Ezekiel again. You could feel him as he stalked over to you, standing over where you sat, all broad, heaving shoulders.

“Yes?” You placed your pen down in your notebook and sat back in your seat, giving Ezekiel your full attention.

Wordlessly, Ezekiel struck, leaning forward with a swiftness that defied his size and seizing your wrist, yanking you from your seat before you knew what was happening.

You made to gasp, to protest, but Ezekiel turned on you, your arm still locked in his grip, as he brought his other hand up, pressing a finger first to his full lips, shushing you harshly.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to fuckin’ talk in the library?” --

Before taking said finger and trailing it over your mouth, catching it on your fuller lower lip and dragging it downward, dropping his hand by his side once more. With that, Ezekiel turned on his heel, tugging you behind him as he made his way to the far recesses of the library.

He ushered you into a row in the far stacks, wordlessly beckoning you down an aisle you had never even seen before.

“Ezekiel, wha --?”

You couldn’t even finish your question before he pounced, dropping your wrist from his grip in favor of cupping your jaw in both hands, pressing his warm lips harshly to yours, breaking the sudden kiss to hiss between his teeth,

“Shut,” he kissed you again, “the fuck up.”

Using his height and the two guiding hands on you to press you into the shelf behind you, he pressed his weight insistently into you, bending his knees and lowering himself slightly from his towering height to place himself at the right spot to knock your knees apart with his own and roll his hips into yours ever-so-slightly.

Ezekiel tore his lips from yours, where his tongue had been exploring the inside of your mouth, content to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, allowing his hand to trail down your side and hook beneath your thigh, hoisting it around his tapered waist.

He breathed hotly into your ear, ragged and panting as he rolled his hips into yours again. Your brain was too sluggish, too lust-drunk to comprehend the noises he was making until well after he’d already made them. You could only imagine what you sounded like, trying to muffle your little gasping moans as Ezekiel marked your neck.

“You were so fucking hot today,” EZ moaned in your ear, all red-clay heat, fizzing champagne gone warm in the moment. “How you fuckin’ talk like that.”

He trailed the hand not already gripping your thigh across your breast and over the soft cotton of your shirt, making his way down to where the hem of it was tucked into your flouncy, springtime skirt. He tugged until the hem came free, dragging the hot pads of his fingertips up, under your shirt and over the soft lace of your bralette, feeling the hardness of your nipple beneath, cupping your breast and rolling a finger over your sensitive bud as he simultaneously rolled his jean-clad hips into your core, grinding between your legs.

“You had your moment,” EZ pulled back from his neck in time to fix his melted-chocolate gaze onto your wanton one. “Now are you gonna be good for me, baby?”

If your bones could melt, you figured they’d long be a puddle where you once stood, EZ’s hands had abandoned the space beneath your shirt in favor of trailing their way up your skirt, brushing your underwear to the side in a moment way-too-smooth to be unpracticed (you wouldn’t think about that now) and swiping through the warm, honey slickness of your core.

You gasped, open-mouthed and in awe of just how starry-eyed Ezekiel was making you feel, like a balmy tropical night spent lounging on white-sand beaches. In between the plucking of his fingers, and just how tingly that was rendering you, you wondered if EZ was one for cliched summer romance.

As quickly as it had started, Ezekiel stopped.

You had half a mind to protest, but not before EZ could shush you with the domineering press of his incendiary lips to yours.

“I asked you a question,” he rasped, the hand on your throat firming ever-so-slightly. “You gonna quit with that smart fuckin’ mouth and be good for me?” His warm grip around your neck shook slightly, gently knocking your head into the shelf behind you, a gentle whumph as it met the books that took up permanent, long-abandoned residence there.

You sighed, pleased as Ezekiel’s featherlight touch resumed at your core, a thick finger teasing your entrance, waiting for your response before giving you what you so desperately wanted.

“Y-yes, Ezekiel,” you breathed into his mouth, “Of course. Y-you’re being so good to me.” Ezekiel’s smirk was back, full-lipped and mildly sinister. He let out a little snarl as he slid his thick fingers into you.

EZ could have been a music major, you’d thought vaguely, with how well he was playing your body. The borderline rough treatment his fingers were rendering inside you was enough to make you see stars, but you wanted more.

You were reticent to say it, but you loved seeing this side of EZ. You had seen him soft, eyes glittering wanly in a quiet moment surrounded by a bustling party. You had seen him arrogant, a confident smirk pillowing his lips as he swaggered across campus. Of course, you had seen him smug, chuckling in self-amusement at a particularly clever turn of phrase. How Stanford of him.

And not that you'd indulge particularly nosy ears, especially Ezekiel’s own-- but this was your favorite Ezekiel -- the heady, solid man towering over you with a firm, commanding presence. His large, warm palm curved around your thigh, thick fingers beckoning you closer to just where he wants you. To just where you want you

You could endeavor to tease him a little, tug your leg out of his grip, giggling and twisting and begging for the chase. But you wouldn't dare defy him; not when he is leaning over you with dangerous eyes like melting pools of mossy hazel, just daring you to try something, to give him an excuse to grip and tug with his fingers that had been carding through your hair. Not when he bares his teeth at you in a predator's grin.

His full lips then teasingly brush over yours, just a dusting of powdered sugar, a slip of sweetness you craved to swallow whole. You could feel your skin sweltering beneath EZ's imposing form. Yes, this is your favorite Ezekiel. Something you'd never thought you'd have.

Damn him.

You had a feeling he knew it, too. What with the self-assured way he had about himself.

Ezekiel’s fingers were quickly working you toward your peak, summoning you to an edge you’d never in a million years thought you’d experience with him. You pressed your fingers to his firm chest, pressing him away from you just firmly enough for him to get the message.

He ripped his lips from you, his fingers ceased, and he looked at you questioningly.

“I - I want you, EZ,” you murmured, fluttering your lashes at him, chest heaving.

You trailed your fingers nimbly from his chest to his belt buckle, deftly undoing his jeans, choosing delicately not to comment on the sizeable, hot, hard length you now had cradled in your palm. You gave EZ a few gentle, teasing strokes with the feather touch of your hand, causing him to groan and knock his forehead into yours, eyes shut and lips parted.

You relished your moment of victory as you guided EZ to your center, allowing him to firmly, fully press-and-thrust inside of you. EZ quickly gained his bearings, gripping your hips and rolling his own, the teasing drag his thrusts were taking on was equal parts infuriating and heavenly.

You rocked onto your tip-toes as best you could, given EZ’s body pressing yours into the shelf, his pistoning hips knocking you rhythmically back into the shelf. With your newfound tidbit of height, you pressed your face, your lips, into EZ’s clothed shoulder, gently biting to muffle the whining moans you didn’t trust yourself to contain. Not confident every single person in this library didn’t know just what the fuck you and Ezekiel were doing, how fucking good he was making you feel.

EZ grunted in surprise at the contact of your little bite, the action spurring him to thrust into you impossibly harder as the two of you chased your peak.

Was he really this fucking good at everything? You weren’t sure if your eyes were rolling in pleasure or annoyance as you felt yourself tightening around him, the warm, sticky caramel waves of pleasure Ezekiel was ripping from your body now too much for you as you surrendered -- coming with a violent jerk of your hips, tightening around Ezekiel’s length and spurring his own orgasm.

The two of you blinked at one another as you came down. You tapped Ezekiel’s arm that was holding the high part of your thigh in place. He trailed his fingers reverently down your thigh and to your knee, helping you gently re-place your feet to the floor and stand on shaky legs. You gripped his biceps in firm, pressing hands as you rocked gently onto your toes and trailed your mouth over Ezekiel’s in a gentle slip of a kiss.

You and EZ helped one another re-orient your clothes, giggling softly to one another as you prepared yourselves to re-emerge into the main part of the library.

Ezekiel caught your wrist before you exited the aisle, turning you back toward him and pressing a kiss to the wrist he held, regarding you with his glimmering ochre eyes.

“Oscar Wilde was right,” he breathed through his stupidly beautiful grin. “The only way to get rid of temptation?”

“To yield to it,” you finished, matching his infuriating grin with one of your own.

Tagging?? **

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champagnebrock · 3 years ago

Text

mayans & soa masterlist

NOTES — some stories may contain mature themes such as violence, bullying, murder, death, abuse, strong language and some other topics. please always read the warnings listed before the story just incase of triggering topic discussion. you are responsible for your media consumption, if you don’t like it feel free to leave.

* if you feel a warning needs to be added, please inform me!

MASTERLIST

series

YOU SHOULD BE SAD | WORDS: tbd

STATUS — ongoing

STARTED — 08/22/21 | FINISHED — 00/00/00

UPDATE SCHEDULE — as i have time to upload chapters

WARNINGS — abuse, violence, strong language, mentions of blood, reader gets a glass thrown at her head, loss of a job, manipulation, mentions of alcohol abuse and drug use.

PAIRING — fem!reader x angel

SUMMARY — when things with your husband turn violent, you retreat to your home town of santo padre. crawling back to your old life, you try to reassemble who you are. on your journey of self discovery you are reacquainted with old friends, lost loves, and who you really are. along the way, not only do you fall back into you who are, you fall in love with someone you never should have traded for the life you didn’t want.

oneshot

/ none /

series

FOUND | WORDS: tbd

STATUS — coming soon

STARTED — 00/00/00 | FINISHED — 00/00/00

UPDATE SCHEDULE —

WARNINGS —

PAIRING — littlesister!reader x bigbrother!jax | jaxslittlesister!reader x happy lowman

SUMMARY — after your dad’s sudden death, you go about cleaning up your parents house, only to find a stack of missing posters with your baby photos on them. the real kicker? the contact information for tips about your location, not the people who raised you.

oneshot

/ none /

76 notes · View notes

joannasteez · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think about EZ as AU Personal Trainer? Because I've thinking about it alot. Lol

Now what type of sorcery is going on because this idea just popped into my head earlier today. Like an AU where he isn’t even a Mayan..... maybe he owns the gym??? And Reader takes him on as a trainer after someone recommends him?????

#what’s with y’all and sending me these EZ AU ideas #do y’all like to see me feral for this man?#i secretly not so secretly like talking about him so keep it coming :)#ez reyes #AU’s are my safe place #ezekiel reyes #ask

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drabbles-mc · 8 months ago

Text

Interruptions

Angel Reyes & OC Evangeline Reyes & Ezekiel Reyes Franky Rogan x OC Evangeline Reyes

Warnings: 18+, pining, language, this really is just a fluffy little something

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: For my next trick! I will pull out of my bag of wonders a character that the show-runners seemed to have forgotten about but I sure didn't! 😂 Shout-out to Franky Rogan- I hope he's doing okay lmao. I'm not really planning on turning this into a multi-chap per se, but I do plan on just writing some snippets/one-shots that all exist in this universe. This is our first look into this au, but definitely not the last if I have anything to say about it 😂 Enjoy! xo

As far as Evangeline was concerned, there was no real reason for Angel and EZ to be in her shop. She’d told them as much about five minutes after they’d walked in and started causing more ruckus than she wanted to be dealing with. She tried to shoo them away, tried to get them to pop one more door down to go and bother their father instead, but they weren’t budging.

Angel was sitting on one of the chairs by the dressing room and EZ was standing off to the side of the sewing machine that she was currently using. Angel was gawking around at everything as though he didn’t stop by every week, and EZ was studying over her shoulder like he was thinking of becoming the next family seamstress. If the shop had belonged to anyone else, the two of them never would have bothered to set foot inside. Not to mention if the shop had belonged to anyone else, they would’ve barred the two of them from entry ages ago.

“I can feel your breath on my neck,” she said, sounding annoyed for a split second before she started laughing.

EZ chuckled, stepping back and instead starting to pace around the shop. “Sorry.”

“Vete—go be sorry somewhere else. You’re gonna scare people off before they even set foot in here.”

Angel shook his head dismissively. “C’mon, Eva. Don’t think of it like that. Think of it like…we’re like protection, you know?”

Head still angled down at the pantleg she was hemming, her eyes lifted just enough to look over at her brother. “What, you two in the mob now too? MC wasn’t enough?” She shook her head and looked back down at the garment draped over the machine. “Protection,” she mocked. “Who you guys gonna protect me from, anyway? The high school girls coming in for me to tailor their prom dresses?”

EZ laughed as he watched his two older siblings go back and forth. “I don’t know,” he chimed in. “Think those girls might have Angel out-gunned.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck both you guys.”

She finally leaned back in her chair, taking her foot completely off the sewing machine pedal. “If you’d left when I told you to, you wouldn’t have to be going through this.”

Angel was finally laughing with her and EZ. “Nah, you know if we never stopped by you’d—” He stopped mid-sentence and stood up from his chair when he saw a police patrol car pull up to the curb right in front of Evangeline’s shop. “What the fuck is this?”

Evangeline mirrored his actions, standing up and carefully draping the pants she’d been working on back over the hanger she’d took them off before she had company. The tailoring job for them was a quick one, or at least it would be once her brothers left and she could actually do her job. She ran her hands over the fabric of her own pants, smoothing them out before looking out the window to see whatever it was that had elicited that reaction from Angel.

She laughed when she saw the cop car parked out front. “Oh, good. Maybe someone will finally be able to make you leave. You think if I ask real nice they’ll give me a couple pairs of cuffs specifically for you two?”

EZ was smiling and shaking his head at his sister, but then when he saw that Franky was the officer getting out of the car, both he and Angel became way more amused than they were annoyed at the cops being there. “Oh,” EZ said with a nod, “yeah I’m pretty sure he’ll give you whatever you want.”

Angel was on the brink of cackling as he nudged his sister’s shoulder. “He’ll give you a pair of cuffs as long as you promise to use them on him just once.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand either of you sometimes. I hope he knocks your bikes over,” Evangeline muttered with a tiny smile as she moved away from her little brother and went back behind the desk where the cash register was.

There were only a couple seconds between Franky shutting the door to the patrol car and him walking into the small boutique that Evangeline owned, but it was long enough. Angel was sitting back down again, this time just in a different chair that was towards the front of the store. He was leaning back, practically sinking into the soft cushions of it. His legs were spread farther apart than necessary, one hand on one knee, his other on the arm of the chair that he was sitting in. Meanwhile EZ was standing behind his brother’s seat, hands holding onto the edges of his kutte—his default these days.

Evangeline was looking at both of them with a mildly amused look on her face. It looked like they were pulled right out of a movie or a cartoon—stereotypical goons trying to look tough and not quite hitting the mark but they didn’t realize it yet. Her attention shifted off them when the soft chimes above her door signaled Franky’s entry.

He stepped inside, immediately looking around and greeting her with a casual, “Hey, Evangeline,” as he did. He looked at Angel and EZ, seeing the image they were trying to put off and also not being overly convinced by it. When it was just the two of them separate from the rest of the club, they weren’t nearly as intimidating. It was hard to be scared of the same boys he went to school with. He’d known them long enough to know that whatever macho act they were putting on, really was just an act. They had the same look in their eyes that they did back then when they were about to cause trouble after school.

It didn’t take long at all for his gaze to land on Evangeline, the real and only reason he’d even pulled up to the shop at all. She was standing behind the counter, leaning forward onto it so that her elbows were propped onto the wood and her chin rested on top of her interlocked fingers. Her hair was pulled back out of her face, a convenience style when she was using the sewing machine, but there was one unruly lock that had managed to escape and it was hanging just enough to the side so that her face wasn’t obscured at all. She smiled at him, head tilting slightly as it rested in her hands.

He'd known Angel and EZ for most of his life, and it made it hard to find them intimidating these days. In the same vein, he’d known Evangeline for almost his whole life too. Only instead of that fact making her less intimidating, it almost made her more intimidating—it was a different kind of intimidating than her brothers were aiming for, but still. Sure, it’d been so long since high school, and they were all such different people now in a lot of ways, but sometimes when she was looking at him like that Franky still felt like he was the dorky kid in class who was a little in love with his friend’s older sister. They were older now and he was much less dramatic than the teenage version of him had been. In love was an overstatement these days of course. Not that the semantics of it all really mattered in moments like the one he was in.

“Something I can do for you, Officer Rogan?” she finally asked, proving one more time over that she was the only Reyes sibling who could address him as such without using any sarcasm.

He turned so that he was completely facing her, purposely ignoring the looks he was getting from her two younger brothers. He shook his head as he walked over to her, standing on the opposite side fo the counter from her. “No. Just making the rounds and thought I’d stop by.”

She hummed in amusement as she stood upright again. “Got it. Thought your ears might’ve been burning somewhere out there.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You talkin’ about me?”

She laughed and shrugged. “Was talking about getting someone to throw these two,” she nodded towards her brothers, “out of my shop. And then you rolled up.”

“Yeah,” Angel chimed in from where he was still sitting, “like an answer to all your prayers, right?”

Evangeline shot her brother a look. “An answer to one of them, at least.”

Franky turned and looked at Angel and EZ. “You know it’s bad when even your own sister is waiting for you two to get picked up.”

Angel stood up out of his chair. In two easy strides he put himself right in front of Franky. There was just enough of a height difference for Franky to have to tilt his head to look Angel directly in the eyes. It was something that would never stop amusing Angel in any close encounters the two of them had.

“I bet you’d be real happy to do that for her, huh, Officer?” he goaded.

Evangeline was standing, arms crossed over her chest as she shook her head at the two of them. EZ was watching her just as intently as he was watching his brother and Franky. The scene was amusing from every angle for different reasons. And, as much as he would’ve loved to see how far Angel was going to take things, he liked his sister too much to let it happen in the middle of her shop. It was one thing when they were at the clubhouse, or Vicky’s. But not here.

“C’mon, Angel,” EZ inserted himself into the conversation, “let’s go. Pop still needs help with the compressor anyway.”

Evangeline cut a small sigh of relief, flashing EZ the quickest of smiles to thank him. “Yeah,” she agreed, “go make yourselves useful somewhere. Por favor. I’m begging.”

She was half expecting Franky and Angel to crash shoulders as the two Reyes boys made their way to the door, but they didn’t. Franky did manage to get the last word in with them, though. Rebutting Angel’s, “Stay safe, Officer,” with an easy, “I’m sure I’ll see you two soon. With the lights and sirens on.”

The door chimed again to signal the two of them leaving. Through the glass windows that made up the storefront, she and Franky were able to watch as the two of them made their way next door to their father’s shop. They were both shaking their heads at the pair of brothers, but for very different reasons.

“Nice to see you boys all getting along still,” Evangeline joked once they were out of sight.

Franky laughed as he put his attention back on her again. “Saying that like I’m the one who started any of that.”

She shook her head as she made her way around so that they were both on the same side of the counter. She leaned back against it, crossing her arms once more out of habit. “That’s not what I said.”

He watched as she crossed one leg over the other, the bright silky fabric of her pants distracting for only a moment before his gaze traveled back up to her face. He saw her knowing smirk and he cleared his throat, hands resting on his belt as he looked down at the floor for a second before getting himself together again.

“They give all the cops that hard of a time? Or just me?”

She laughed. “No one has an easy time with those two…” she trailed off for a moment before continuing, “but yeah you get it a little worse.” She saw the incredulous look on his face and she couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t something endearing about it. “C’mon, Franky. I know you were all friends in school but, you know, they grew up and became members of a motorcycle club. And you grew up and became a narc.”

He laughed, placing one hand on his chest. “Ouch, damn.”

She shook her head as she laughed right along with him. “Their words, not mine.”

They shared another quiet laugh about it before the conversation hit a pause. The only noise in the shop was the music playing from the speakers scattered around, a playlist the Evangeline changed from day to day depending on the mood she was in. Franky looked down at the floor, then around the shop, and then back at the woman standing next to him. He didn’t know for sure but he was fairly certain that she’d been watching him the entire time.

“Talk to me, Rookie,” she said, gently nudging his shoulder with her own. “What’s going on?”

That got him to chuckle. “Evangeline, I told you, I haven’t been a rookie in—”

“Franky, I told you, it’s not gonna make me stop calling you that.” She smiled. “I remember when you were slugging your way through the academy, before they got stupid enough to give you a gun,” she joked. “You’re always gonna be a rookie to me.”

“Almost as hurtful as your brothers callin’ me a narc.” There was a brief pause and he cleared his throat. “I really was just checking in. I think they told me that something about this job has to do with protecting and serving or some shit like that.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I heard the rumors.” Reaching back, she took her hair out of the loose, messy ponytail that she’d thrown it into earlier in the day. She continued to speak as the long, loose waves of hair fell down around her shoulders. “I appreciate you checking in. I’m alright, though. All quiet on the strip.”

“’Til your brothers get here.”

She cracked a smile. “Yeah, ‘til my brothers get here.”

He stepped away from the counter and reached into his pocket for his keys. “I’ll let you get back to work then. Don’t wanna be another distraction.”

Her smile was warm as she shook her head at him. “Very considerate of you.”

He stepped backwards towards the door. “Call if you need anything.”

“911 still a good number to reach you at?”

He grinned. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

She was laughing, mostly to herself, as he turned and let himself back out of the shop. She watched as he went back to his patrol car, noticing how he shook his head at her brother’s bikes on the way. There was a split second when she thought she was going to get exactly what she’d asked for earlier, that he was going to knock them over. But of course he didn’t, not looking to kick up that kind of trouble.

By the time that EZ and Angel came back over to her shop, Evangeline had not only finished altering the pants that she’d been working on earlier when they’d stopped in, but also taken care of another pair in between customers filtering in and out. She considered it a successful day, and the shop wasn’t even closed yet. Judging by the looks on Angel and EZ’s faces, she wasn’t sure if they’d had the same amount of success she did.

“Compressor got you beat?” she asked.

Angel scoffed. “Fuck no. We fixed that shit.”

She looked over at EZ. “Did you really?”

He flashed a grin. “Limping it along until the new one comes in.”

Angel’s head dropped back and he let out a dramatic sigh. “Dude, what the fuck?” He ignored the way that they were both laughing as he focused on his sister again. “So, what’d Rent-A-Cop want, anyway? Y’know, besides your hand in marriage.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “He was just checking in.”

Angel scoffed. “Yeah, gotta make sure his precious Evangeline is all good over here.”

She tilted her head. “Why are you saying my name like that?”

Angel gestured to the curb even though Franky’s car was long gone. “That’s how he fuckin’ says it! Swear to God, ‘mana, I haven’t heard that guy refer to you as Eva since he was like, twelve.”

Evangeline laughed. “How dare he call me by my actual name.”

“You know what I mean,” he shot right back, attempting to sound more annoyed than he really was.

She tried to divert the conversation rather than going deeper down whatever rabbit-hole Angel was trying to drag them down. “Why are you guys still here, anyway? Don’t you have motorcycle business to attend to? Parties to throw, windows to smash, all that fun stuff.”

“Party’s tomorrow,” Angel replied with a shrug. “You should come through.” He nodded towards EZ. “Prospect is playing barback.”

Evangeline laughed and nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

The two of them hugged her, taking her gentle cue to get going. Angel pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Just don’t bring the narc as your plus-one.”

She laughed as she pushed him towards the door, but chose not to acknowledge his last comments. “Be careful out there.” She waited until the door to chime shut behind them before she muttered a quiet, “Pendejos,” to herself and got back to work.