#ez reyes x ofc

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Softer Pleasures - An EZ Reyes/OC One Shot Story.

Just a little smutty offering I had revolving around in my head. Enjoy!

Words - 1,104

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“What is it,” she began, sighing as his tongue rolled in a slow circle, “about going down on me that you love so much?”  

He didn’t reply at first, but the raised eyebrow said enough, looking up at her as he sucked gently on her clit. “I’ve never been asked that before.” He continued to suck upon her, laughing a little, entertained that she should ask him such a thing, right when he was in the middle of doing it. “You’re expecting a reply, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm.”  

“Hmmm.” His tongue flattened against her, dragging over her bud slowly. “Alright, well it feels amazing, tastes amazing, fucking turns me on like you wouldn’t believe, and then there’s the way you react to it. How wet you get, and those little moans. Fuck. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to put my mouth back to making said moans happen rather than talking about them.”

The heat of his mouth had her gleaming as he laved at her once again, the nectar of her cunt saturating his tongue. In truth, words alone couldn’t describe how it made him feel, to pleasure her like that, his heartbeat quickened, skin tingling as little wells of contentment poured through him. And then she moaned again, a seraphim’s symphony to his ears, a summer sonnet of lust, thumbing her clit to gently drag the hood back, the tip of his tongue tracing tight circles, the song of her arousal filling his ears again.  

Pleasure draped over her like the swathe of silk, each flicker of his tongue making her arousal bloom, like summer flowers kissed by the first sun, awakened and reaching towards the light. Each lick was an ember ignited, heat winding and coiling low in her, his breath a hot tempest as his hands stroked over the soft round of her tummy, fingertips flexing as he drove the simmer through her.  

Her panting escalated, her lips parting on a soft cry. “EZ, please, I need...” Her words were cut short by the pull of his lips sucking upon her, the tip of his tongue pushing against her clit, increasing the pressure as she keened against him, her nails flexing against his shoulders. “Yes, like that, just like that!”

He peered up at her, cheeks hollowed, moaning low in his throat, the vibrations from such only adding to the bonfire of ecstasy that crackled up her spine, the burn of pleasure then settling low within her, her soft thighs writhing against his face as his eyes shone gold, his cock throbbing with the need to fill her.  

She drew a breath through gritted teeth, her walls in spasm as her fuse flickered and crackled, primed to explode, his mouth working her hungrily before the desire grew too strongly within him, sitting up and pushing her legs back, her knees pressed to her chest as he skimmed her folds with the head of his cock. He teased her a little before sinking in slowly, spreading her around him, his hands stroking the soft of her thighs.  

He was slow to begin with, enjoying the soaking heat that gripped him, almost every inch of him dragging through her in gentle trawl, his heart thundering as he watched the way she loved it, loved him within her, parting her legs to lean down to her, his lips finding hers. “Fuck, that pretty little pussy is heaven, I swear. God... ahhh.” He was always so overcome to be inside her, and the novelty never wore off.  

It was all languid, like a sensual drip of honey, thick and sweet, their mouths locked as tongues swirled, breath hitched, and moans poured like wine from one mouth to another, her hands stroking the thick planes of muscle that ridged his shoulders. She gripped onto them when he sank into her deeper, gasping against his neck, her teeth laying a soft bite as lightning struck through the marrow of her, EZ sitting up again as speed replaced the slow trawl. 

His gaze fell to watch his cock emptying and filling her, glinting in the low light, creamed with the silken satin of what sheathed him so well, moving his thumb to press her clit, rubbing sweet tingles, his mouth tilting into a grin as she cried out shrilly.  

She tightened around him, a velvet, vice-like grip that began to pull the waves building within him to greater strength, his mouth falling open as he panted hard, rutting into her with more urgency. She began to quake ardently, feeling sparks skittering along her spine and down her legs, moaning contently as he folded to kiss her sternum, moving upwards slowly until his mouth was returned to hers, offering kisses of voracious want.  

Their bodies pushed against each other in heated sync, her legs moving to hook around his waist and grip tightly as she panted against his mouth. Everything became fervidly uncontained, her hands gliding down his well-defined back, the plush velvet of her cunt pulsing around him.  

An upward tilt of his hips as he shifted slightly had her gasping, the hardness within her slick walls nudging different spots and prompting ebullience as she started to glow. His mouth dipped to suck her nipples in turn, a rumbling groan permeating the air, the heat of his cock delicious as she rolled her hips up against him, loving him pinning her there beneath his weight.  

���Ahhh, fuck!” he gritted, driving into her centre in frenzy, teeth grazing the column of her throat, his hips shuddering with effort as lightning struck through him, her own release gathering momentum.

Being unselfish, he kept going until he knew her wails were the siren song of her cresting, her body shuddering against his as she glimmered strongly, wailing into his shoulder. The illumination of golden sunshine gilded her, rays surging through her veins, lighting her up like the darkened horizon at dawn as he quivered against her, cock twitching, pulsing endless, hot waves of cum into her, his groans all grit and gravel before his body slackened, lying breathless in her arms.  

“You know how I detailed why I love going down on you so much?” he asked a few minutes later, still on top of her, stroking the side of her neck as he rested his head against her chest.  

“Uh-huh,” she breathed, still a little spaced out.

“I think I love this more, just lying here with you like this.”  

Truth was, he loved everything about her, every moment, every touch. She knew it, too, lifting his head and cradling his face, offering soft kisses as she hummed with happiness.  

[narcolini]

in his shadow

ezekial ‘ez’ reyes x oc: ava gomez, angst/comfort, 2119 words

warnings for depictions of grief, talking about dead loved ones

for day 13 of whumpril : blurry vision | support | “i think i need to sit down”

a/n: omg i have made myself obsessed with yet another silly little pairing with my silly little ocs but . realllly enjoyed this and i’m definitely going to be adding more of them throughout whumpril because :( <3 babies

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc​ (let me know if you want to be tagged)

It’s the worst day of the year, every year. Worse than the anniversary of his death, really, because in the chaos of it all, Ava had forgotten the exact date it happened. She can barely even remember which day of the week it was now. Just that it was an afternoon in the Fall, and she’d been working, so they called her office not her cell. She got the news standing at her manager’s desk, staring at the pinboard in front. Could tell you in a heartbeat what was pinned there, which leaflets she read while hearing the worst news of her life, but the date? That was gone like smoke, blown apart by a change in the wind.

His birthday, though, that’s a date she’s known for so long that it’ll never go. It just cycles around instead. Every year, quicker than she expects, it comes, goes, and then it’s back around the Earth to haunt her again.

Last year, she’d spent it doing all the things he liked to do, which involved wasting the night away with the Mayans, drinking everything they bought her—because that’s their way of paying respect—and she regretted it. Big time. Not just for the headache afterwards, but because it felt like he’d died all over again. The way they looked at her, the sympathy behind every put-on smile. It comes from a good place, she knows, but, God, it makes it hard to move on. Hard to celebrate his life, when she’s the focus point for the grief of everyone else in the room.

She planned to keep to herself this year: watch a movie, order pizza, be in bed before eleven. But she didn’t even last until midday before driving herself crazy with it. With the thought of him, the absence of him. She needed company, that was evident now, but she needed the company of someone who doesn’t miss him as much as she does. Someone who never met him at all.

EZ wasn’t home when she knocked, knuckles bouncing off the thin trailer door. He wasn’t in the clubhouse either, but she didn’t hang around long enough to ask why, or where he was. Couldn’t face the questions that would no doubt follow.

You good, Ava?

You need something?

Instead, she’s waiting for him outside, sitting on the dirt by a stack of tires. The trailer’s directly opposite her, door right in her eye-line. When EZ comes back, she’ll be the first to know, the first to catch him. She can throw her offer in the ring, ask him to hang, before anyone else can. Secure herself some company before she truly goes crazy. Wanna get something to eat? Or let me sit in your trailer, while you work out and I talk about my dead fiancé for hours?

If EZ wasn’t the person he is, she wouldn’t dare ask it of him, but he’s probably the only guy for miles that would say yes to both.  

She stretches her legs out, bare calves against the gravel. It’s been nearly an hour now and, God, it’s hot. The sun’s sitting right over her, searing into the parting of her hair, putting beads of sweat across the top of her lip. She should’ve brought a drink with her, stopped at Starbucks on the way for an Iced coffee. But it’s too late now. He can’t be much longer.  

Like she’d summoned him herself, there it is, the rumble of an engine, the gleam of polished chrome pulling into the lot before her. She’s been around often enough to know them from their bikes, the colour of them, the size of the body. It’s EZ, and he parks it infront of her, a stone’s throw from the sole of her shoes.

He kicks the stand down, squinting at her as he dismounts. How he’s managing it, she doesn’t know, all the layers, the leather, the denim. It’s hot enough to roast him alive stationary, never mind riding down the asphalt. He pulls his helmet off, scrubbing the sweat out of his flattened hair, before shooting her a surprised, ‘Ava?’

‘Hey.’ She stands quickly to greet him, too quickly, actually. The blood goes from her feet to her head in a second, vision blacking out so swiftly that she staggers forward a step, toes catching on the ground.

‘Hey—woah.’ He lurches forward, taking her arm to steady her. ‘You good?’

She is, it’s just the world that’s spinning, tipping on axis. Her vision is back now, but swimming with floating specs that won’t blink away. And her body’s cold suddenly, but damp from the heat still, like her blood sugar’s dropped through the ground itself.

‘Ava?’

He’s trying to catch her attention, her gaze, by ducking his head down in front of her, but if she straightens out of the bend she’s adopted to meet him, she’ll collapse—maybe. Will send the blood back up to her head and blind herself again.

‘I think I need to sit down,’ she says, voice shaking slightly.

‘Yeah, me too,’ he agrees. ‘You been sat out here for long?’

Ava nods, glad of his grip on her arm as he starts to walk them towards his trailer. It’s the only thing keeping her upright, the only thing making the floor seem flat and not sloping, spinning.

‘Sit here.’ He puts her on the step—which she falls into clumsily, face pale—then moves back to use his body as shade, angling himself until his shadow is cast over where she sits. ‘Put your head between your knees.’

‘Does that help?’ Her head’s in her hands currently, and that’s doing nothing at all.

‘Find out for yourself,’ he says, talking with a slight smile. ‘Come on.’

She complies, folding to put her skull between her knees, with her eyes squeezed shut. It doesn’t stop the spinning right away, but it does lessen the pressure behind her brows, and the tightness in her chest. Enough of a difference to make her wait there, curled up like a pill-bug on his step.

‘Better?’

She hums.

‘What’re you doing here anyway?’ he asks, happy to do so now he knows she won’t collapse at his feet. ‘It’s like, a hundred degrees out here.’

‘Wanted to wait,’ she churns out, ‘for you.’

He shifts, fidgeting in front of her. She hears the soles of his boots against the dry ground to know that he’s doing it. ‘What for?’ he asks.

And now all the plans she had, dissolve like they were never there at all. There isn’t one suggestion left that feels doable. Partially because she’s made herself sick, from sitting too long, standing too quickly, spending too much time in the sun, and partly because he’s already doing her a favour. He’s already stopped her from passing out in his arms, and now she’s supposed to ask him to act as a therapist?

‘Give me a minute,’ she says, lifting her head slowly. Her forehead is damp, and cold still, somehow, so she wipes it dry with both hands. Rubs her eyes until they’re bleary, then blinks until they’re back to focus. When she finally looks ups to EZ, she’s normal again, just about. Functioning enough to try a real conversation.

He smiles. ‘Welcome back.’

It’s an easy expression to mirror, EZ’s smile. She does it without even realising. ‘You got a few hours to spare?’ Time in your day to keep a widow company?

‘Sure.’ He nods, gesturing for the door behind her. ‘Got some sodas in the fridge.’

*

Inside, it’s surprisingly cool. The white paint of the outside is doing enough to reflect the heat and keep the trailer liveable, heavenly, really, by Ava’s standards. Like stepping out of a sauna and dipping your toes in the pool. The drink is a God send too, cold and sugary, and pouring more and more life into her with every added sip. It’s obvious that she made the right choice already, rocky start or not. EZ and iced sodas is way fucking better than Tequila in the club house. Better company in one, than there are in her entire troop of mourners—on today, at least.

‘So what’s up?’ he asks, after enough small talk has passed that it’s the only question left. ‘You don’t normally come looking for me.’ He ducks his chin, looking embarrassed for a breath. ‘Not that I mind hanging out.’

She sighs, slouching into the bench she’s occupying, her feet up on the one opposite. He’s stood still, leaning on the short counter to her left, waiting with his drink held to his chest. May as well tell him, then. May as well enjoy the luxury of getting to tell someone who doesn’t know already. His relative newness to the club is a gift that won’t last forever, after all.

‘It’s Sebastian’s birthday today,’ she says, ignoring the twitch of acknowledgment he gives. The, ah, makes sense, look he puts her way. ‘And I tried to have a me day, but, I don’t know. I guess I’d prefer some company.’

EZ nods, drinking to stall his response—she can tell. When you have to tell people, time and time again, my fiancé died, sorry, Sebastian passed away, you get used to allowing for that second. That pause while the living decides how to deal with the dead.

‘I gotta say,’ he starts, wiping his mouth dry afterwards, ‘I’m not sure why… I mean, I’m not good with this kind of thing. Knowing what to say.’

She snorts. ‘Good. That’s what I want.’ That’s why she picked him over everyone else, though she knows him the least, and they know her the best. ‘I love you guys, everyone, I really do. The club’s like the only fucking family I have left. But.’ She looks down, picking away at the damp label of her bottle. ‘Honestly, you’re the only one who, y’know, sees me and not Sebastian’s ex.’

It’s not like the others can help it, either, when she’s the walking reminder of the brother they lost. The only bit of him there is left.

‘And they all miss him too,’ she continues, defending herself though he hasn’t said a word against it, ‘I get that, but it’s just a lot. Especially today. I want to talk about him, sure, of course I do.’

Her throat catches. She swallows.

‘But you don’t wanna carry their baggage as well as your own,’ EZ finishes, nodding. ‘I hear you.’

‘Yeah.’ A breath, relief. He gets it. ‘It’s too much sometimes. I see the way they look at me, like they’re sorry for me still. It drives me crazy.’

He stands from his lean, crossing to sit in the couch she’s got her feet on. ‘Y’know,’ he says, ‘at Mom’s funeral, I left before the family could even talk to me.’

‘Really?’

He nods. ‘Same thing, that look. I couldn’t stand it. Was like she’d died all over again.’

She laughs, though it isn’t funny, because that’s it. That’s exactly it. ‘God, do you know how good it is to hear someone say that out loud?’ she asks, unable to swing the smile away. ‘Cause I appreciate everything the club does for me, y’know, the love is there, but, shit. Sometimes I wonder if it’d be easier to just leave and never come back.’

‘Yep.’ He snorts. ‘Been there, too.’

And yet, the both of them are still sitting here, in the trailer on the Mayan’s lot, because that’s the point, isn’t it? The love beneath all the annoyances.

‘You wanna tell me about him?’ he asks, and she can see in his eyes that it’s sincere. He wants to know, to meet Sebastian properly. It’s not just a polite offer to a widow in need. ‘All I know about, is the crazy shit they used to get up to.’

‘Well, that is a good portion of it,’ she jokes, which feels good to do. Feels like unlinking one of the chains wrapped around her chest, to talk about him with someone that doesn’t carry the grief of him. It’s like introducing him for the first time. This is Sebastian, EZ, and he’s the reason we’re even here at all.

‘He would’ve hated this shit, for starters,’ she says, ‘making his birthday a day of mourning.’ But maybe it doesn’t have to be that. Maybe EZ can help her start a new tradition, cold sodas and fresh stories. ‘You ever hear about what he did in college?’

EZ shakes his head, settling into the cushion behind.

‘God,’ she laughs, ‘alright,’ and then she begins, talking as if Sebastian is right there beside her.

>>> part two

[drabbles-mc]

Nothing New (Part 2)

EZ Reyes x OFC (Lola Ortega)

Part 1 can be found Here

For Day 22 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: "Let's get you cleaned up."

Warnings: 18+, angst, language, blood/injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I think about these two all the time. My brain has been Bad lately so hopefully this still came out okay. I just. I love their angst and their constant push and pull. I want to make life easy for them but I can't lmao

EZ Reyes Taglist: @rosieposie0624 @noz4a2 @queenbeered @choochoo284 @thesandbeneathmytoes @mijagif @withmyteeth @kelpies-shed @louisianalady @gemini0410 @buckybarneshairpullingkink @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @jveudlamoula @passionatewrites @nessamc @winchestershiresauce @artemiseamoon @littlekittymeow @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardburnsupersoldiers @justazzi @solidly-indulgent @danzer8705 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The weeks that followed their last discussion felt precarious. It felt like there were still eggshells hidden around, waiting for one of them to step on them and reduce it to shatters. The distance that time had put between them was hard enough to traverse, but the extra miles that EZ was manufacturing to keep her away just seemed cruel, salt in an already-aggravated wound.

She could deal with limbo, to a certain extent. She expected it, even, as they got back into knowing each other. The usual routine for reconnecting with old friends had gotten thrown out the window the first night they saw each other after so many years apart, so now they were back-tracking and trying to do it over the right way this time. It wasn’t as easy as they’d hoped, especially with the bumps they’d already hit in the road, but they were determined to figure it out.

They existed in the space between friends and something more. It would’ve been simple enough to pretend that their first night together didn’t happen, or that it was just a mistake borne from too much alcohol and too many years apart. But the truth was that neither of them wanted that. Even EZ, for all of his self-sabotage, wasn’t ready to let her go now that he’d had her like that.

But that didn’t mean that he was ready to let her in, either. The push-and-pull of that muddied the waters, kept things from being simple. He could feel himself doing it, too, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. There were a lot of things that EZ still didn’t get into with her. He said precious little about the club. Part of her understood that, understood that there was a lot that happened with the club that anyone who didn’t wear a kutte wasn't allowed to know the ins and outs of. But she still wanted to get a better picture of what it was all about now, what this huge new part of EZ’s life meant for him, and for her, if she decided to stick around.

When EZ had left her apartment the day before, the last thing he said to he was that he’d let her know when he was back safe at the clubhouse. He didn’t say where he was going, didn’t say why, and Lola didn’t ask him to tell her either of those things. She knew that she was going to be met with vague answers, so she took what she had been given. That was well over twenty-four hours ago now, though, and from the way he had been talking it didn’t sound like whatever it was that he was doing was going to take that long. But she’d gone to work, come back home, and done it all over again all without hearing anything from him. So now she was back to sitting on her bed, trying not to overthink it all.

Letting out a deep sigh, she reached over and grabbed her phone off her nightstand, scrolling to the last text message she’d sent him. She sent it late the night before when she could feel herself finally about to go to sleep. Just a short, simple, “Hope everything is okay” that she never got a reply to.

She toyed with the phone in her hands for a few moments before hitting the call button. Part of her knew better than to get her hopes up that he would answer, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

After a long series of rings, she was met with the automated voice telling her that the person she was trying to reach wasn’t available. The couple seconds before the beep had Lola wondering if it was even worth it to leave a voicemail for him. If he didn’t have time to answer a text, it wasn’t more likely that he was going to give her a call back. Taking a deep breath, she managed to end the call just before the beep sounded.

She let her phone drop onto her comforter, running her hands over her face and back through her hair. Suddenly the stillness and silence of her apartment felt like a bad omen, like a calm before the storm. She didn’t know if that feeling would be more or less intense if she actually knew what the hell EZ and the rest of the club were getting into.

Another hour went by, and there was still nothing. No text, no call, no EZ miraculously showing up and knocking at her apartment door. If he hadn’t promised she’d hear from him, she wouldn’t be worrying so much. They were grown, they could go a couple days without talking—they didn’t owe each other anything when it came to that. But he was the one who had said he’d be in touch, and now it was radio silence.

Letting out a groan, she yanked the blanket off her legs, kicking it so that it bunched up at the foot of her bed. Swinging her legs over, Lola got up and made her way over to her dresser, changing out of her pajamas, trading in her comfortable shorts for jeans, swapping out one tank top for another. She swiped her phone off the bed, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans as she left the comfort of her bedroom. She barely slowed down enough to slip her boots on, too focused on grabbing her bag and her keys and getting out of the apartment. It was a miracle that she remembered to lock the door behind her.

It felt unnaturally dark out when she pulled up to the scrapyard. They had a few scattered lights throughout the compound, something between a street-lamp and a light pulled from a high school football field. The light cast off from them just seemed to emphasize the rest of the darkness that was surrounding them.

Putting her car in park, she hopped out. The small handful of times that she’d been there, the gate had been open. She frowned as she looked at the heavy metal, wondering how she was supposed to get herself on the other side of it. Even in her younger more reckless days, that was one gate that she wouldn’t have been able to hop even if she had been stupid enough to try.

Raking her nails back along her scalp, she tried to figure out what her next plan of action was. It wasn’t like she could just call EZ to come and let her in. The fact that it was so quiet had her thinking that no one was around. Then it became a question of whether she was going to wait and hope someone turned up, or if she was just going to go all the way back home to sit and worry there instead.

Just as she was about to slump down and sit in front of the gate, she heard the rattling of the office door being pulled open. She froze, feeling hopeful and like she was trespassing at the same time. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited to see who it was that would be walking out.

The man was whistling, eyes on the ground as he watched his step leaving the building. It was only when he lifted his gaze to turn around that he noticed Lola’s car. Then, looking around, he noticed Lola. His eyes grew wide, but he didn’t flinch.

Lola had no idea who he was, but the Romero Brother’s shirt that he was wearing gave her a little bit of hope. Clearing her throat, she walked over to him. “Hi.”

“The scrapyard is closed,” he said, studying her like he was trying to figure out if he was supposed to know her.

“I know. I, um,” she didn’t know how much she should say, “I’m looking for EZ. He’s my…he’s a friend.”

“A friend,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Yea.” Both of them stood there awkwardly for a moment before Lola realized that she should probably tell this guy who she was. “Sorry.” She held her hand out, not batting an eye at his prosthetics. “I’m Lola.”

“Lola,” he said, like he was turning the word over in his mind. “I’m Chucky.” He paused. “EZ isn’t here.”

Apparently he’d gotten the memo about giving vague answers. “Right. Okay. I just, I’ve been waiting to hear from him and…nothing.”

He frowned at the worry in her expression. “I don’t know where they are.”

She believed that. She just didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. “O-okay. Thank you, Chucky.”

“Do you want to wait here?” he offered.

She couldn’t hide the relief on her face. “That would be great, yea.”

He gave a small nod before walking past her towards the gate. “No one else is here. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She wasn’t as sure about that as he was, but she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. After she’d pulled her car in and parked it off to the side out of the way of the clubhouse, she found herself standing in the empty lot, feeling much more out of place than she already had, which she wasn’t quite sure was possible. Chucky lingered with her for a few minutes, clearly unsure about whether or not he should be leaving her there alone.

They were each seated on the steps that led up to the clubhouse, and Lola was about to apologize for holding him up, making his late night even later. However before she could, the sound of motorcycle engines cut through the silence in the air. Both their heads snapped to look towards the gate. Sure enough, hardly a few minutes later, the entire entourage of bikes, and the van, all came rolling in.

Chucky was up on his feet in a second, making his way towards where they were all starting to line up their bikes. Lola managed to get herself to her feet, but she hung back by the steps. She knew that she probably wasn’t supposed to be here for any of this. The less noticeable she made herself, the better.

She watched from the sidelines as each of the men began to dismount their bikes, taking their helmets off in the process. She saw Angel first, which was reassuring. A couple of the other men she didn’t exactly know but she’d seen them before when she stopped by to see EZ. Everyone looked exhausted, beat up in one way or another. However, as the sound of bike engines started to die off, all of them beginning to fall silent, she still had yet to see EZ. Her nails were nearly drawing blood from her palms as she clenched her fists at her side.

None of the guys seemed to notice her as they talked among themselves. Lola watched with bated breath, tears starting to well in her eyes as she waited for any clue as to what the hell was going on. She watched as Angel walked around to the back of the van, sighing as he yanked the back doors of it open.

“Alright, Boy Scout,” he said, sounding more exhausted than anything as he reached to help his brother stumble out the back of the van, “let’s go.”

“EZ?” the name came falling out of Lola’s mouth before she could stop it. Not especially loud, but the surprised yet concerned lilt in her voice caused everyone to turn and look at her.

It was only then that Chucky spoke up, turning and looking at EZ who was leaning on his brother for support, breaking the tense silence with, “Lola came looking for you.”

Angel tried to choke back a chuckle, knowing that it wasn’t the time or the place. EZ just shook his head, peeling his gaze off of Lola and looking at the man who had a knack for pointing out the obvious, “Thanks, Chucky.”

He took that as his cue to leave, giving a nod to the rest of the men who were standing around before taking off back towards the gate to leave. Lola started to make her way towards where everyone was standing, while most of the men started to disperse, heading for the clubhouse. Lola passed by them all without a word as she walked up to Angel and EZ.

“What are you doing here?” EZ asked when she walked up to him.

She frowned at his tone even though she knew it was coming. “I—”

“She’s helping me carry your ass to the trailer,” Angel cut her off, knowing that this was going to turn into an argument that he didn’t want to be part of. He looked at Lola before nodding at EZ. “Help me out.”

Lola was about to loop her arm around the other side of him when EZ waved her off. “I’m good.”

Angel rolled his eyes as the three of them slowly made their way towards EZ’s trailer. “Yea, you’re good. That’s why Creep had to ride your bike the rest of the way back.”

“What happened?” Lola asked, not able to contain her worry, her curiosity.

“Nothing,” EZ’s response came immediately, a knee-jerk reaction as he limped along.

Angel didn’t have the same reservations as he did. “He wiped out. Smacked his head off the blacktop.”

EZ rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. Leg hurts worse than my head, honestly.”

“Yea,” Angel said with a scoff, “that’s because you’re missing some skin that’s supposed to be there.”

“Jesus,” Lola said quietly, going a few strides ahead of them so that she could pull open the door of EZ’s trailer.

EZ shot his brother a look. “Do you have to make it worse?”

Angel chuckled, shaking his head. “You do that just fine on your own with her, Little Brother.” He paused as he and EZ both awkwardly maneuvered up the stairs. “All those brains and you’re still a fuckin’ idiot.”

Lola only heard the latter comment, and it got an eye-roll out of her even if she wanted to laugh a little bit. “Angel…”

He dropped EZ rather unceremoniously onto the mattress, holding his hands up in surrender once he was done. “He’s your problem now.” He pulled her into a quick hug, and even through the brief gesture she could feel how tired he was. “You good?”

It took Lola a second to realize that Angel was talking to her, not EZ. Clearing her throat, she nodded. “Of course. Go and get some rest.”

“Yea,” he lightly squeezed her shoulder as he pulled away from her. He stepped past EZ as he reached for the door. “Call if you need me.”

EZ nodded, knowing that he wasn’t going to be doing that. “I will.” Once the door clattered shut behind Angel, EZ turned his attention back to Lola. He winced as he moved, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“I got worried.”

“I told you I’d let you know—”

“And then you didn’t.”

“Well I wasn’t back.” There was more venom to his statement than he meant for there to be, but he didn’t apologize for it.

He wasn’t wrong, technically. He hadn’t reached out to say he made it back, because he hadn’t made it back. But that also wasn’t the real issue at play here. They both knew that, and Lola wasn’t going to let EZ try and turn their argument into something that it wasn’t.

“I was worried. I’m…I’m allowed that.”

“You can’t just be showing up here,” he said as he shook his head at her.

“You’d have more of a right to be upset about all of this if you were actually okay. But you’re not. I was right to worry this time.”

He shook his head. “I know. But I don’t,” he sighed, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her, “I don’t want you involved in all this shit, Lola.”

“I’m not involved.”

“If you’re here, you’re involved,” he shot back.

The statement gave her pause. She figured that the reason he made the trek to her place more often than not was because there was just more room, felt a little more like a home than his trailer did. She figured that not really wanting her around the guys from the club was part of it, she just didn’t realize how big of a part it was.

“Well,” she shook her head as she started to gather up things to clean out the road rash that was only partially covered by his torn jeans, “I’m going to have to get involved eventually.”

“Why?”

Her brows furrowed as she looked over at him. “Are you planning on leaving the club anytime soon?”

“No, but—”

“And I’m not leaving you,” she cut him off, soft but firm. “So. You know…yea.”

For just a moment his angry façade cracked and real worry shone through. “What if something happened to you?”

She shook her head at him as she brought her things over. “Seems like you’re the only one who has things happening to them.” She held her hand out to help him up. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He winced a bit but otherwise held his tongue as he allowed her to help him up, trying to keep his weight off of the leg that took the brunt of the damage. If he didn’t know better he’d think that something in his hip got put in the wrong place with how much it hurt to try and move.

When EZ was sitting back down, she set about trying to clean his leg out the best that she could. She knew that there would be no getting him to the doctor over this, so she didn’t even bother trying. “Did you really just wipe out?” she asked as she cleaned.

He sighed, head dropping back so he was staring up at the ceiling. “Lola, don’t.”

“Ezekiel, come on. Even if I wasn’t here tonight, I would’ve seen this,” she gestured to his leg, “eventually. And I would ask then.”

“I know you think you wanna know all of this, know this part of me, but I’m telling you, you d—”

“How long are you going to be using that excuse?” she asked, wanting to sound angrier than she did. Tears started to gather at the edges of her eyes. “How long do I have to stay before you trust me?”

“We’ve hardly known each other for a month.”

She sat back on her heels at that, hurt all over her face. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true. I, I grew up three streets away from you! You played baseball with my brother all throughout high school! Don’t,” her voice shook as she tried not to let it crack, “don’t act like none of that matters.”

“It doesn’t,” he said, shaking his head, “Not when it comes to this.”

They both fell silent after that. Lola finished cleaning and wrapping his leg without much of an issue. She heard him hiss in pain a few times but she knew that if she tried to offer him any words of comfort she was just going to get herself worked up. Having the work to focus on for a bit was good, something to keep her emotions in check.

When she was done, she got up and went to wash her hands in his kitchen sink, still not saying anything to him. EZ watched her, and he couldn’t deny that he felt a wave of guilt over it all. He knew she meant well, that she cared. He knew that she wasn’t just going to walk away, but that’s what made it all so much more difficult for him. She wasn’t the type to turn tail and run out on someone when things got difficult, she never had been. Sticking by him when they were kids had been one thing, it’d been easy—there was no real danger back then. But now there was, and he didn’t want to be the one responsible for hurting her, destroying a life that she’d spent the last ten years building for herself.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

She nodded as she dried her hands. “You’re welcome.”

There was a long pause before he asked, “Are you gonna head back?”

She shrugged—she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Do you want me to stay?”

It felt selfish to say yes after all that he’d said to her. But he also had to think that if she didn’t want to stay, she wouldn’t have given him the option. “If you want.”

A sad, tired smile tried to lift the ends of her mouth. “Okay.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment as she went and grabbed one of his shirts to wear, letting her clothes land in a pile on the floor. She watched as EZ shrugged off his kutte and put it off to the side before peeling his shirt off over his head. He let that fall in the pile with her things as well. When he looked back at her, any calm he might’ve felt over the sight of her there, with him, wearing his things, was erased when he saw the way her eyes were taking in the bruises scattered on his body.

Without either of them saying a word about it, she crawled into bed beside him, neither of them minding the tight fit. She tried to carefully position herself around him so that she wouldn’t aggravate any of his injuries.

After a few minutes of laying there in silence with EZ’s hand lightly trailing up and down her back, Lola said, “I know…I know you look at my life and think that you shouldn’t be part of it.”

He exhaled, visibly deflating. “Lola…”

Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked at him. “You can’t keep using my life against me, using it as an excuse to keep me at arm’s-length.”

He toyed with the ends of her hair that were laying on his chest as she leaned over him. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to protect me from you. If anything,” her hand grazed over the scar running down his arm, “I should be protecting you from you.”

He let out a quiet chuckle at that. “Maybe.”

There was a beat of silence before the heaviness returned. “I don’t want whatever this, we, turn out to be, I don’t want it to be a fight every step of the way. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“I know.”

She shook her head, bringing her hand so that it was cupping the side of his face. “Then you gotta stop fighting me, Ezekiel.”

He rested his hand over hers. “I’m trying, I’m just,” he let out a small laugh, “really bad at it.”

For the first time since he’d left, Lola felt the knot in her stomach start to go away. “Yea, I see that.” She let him weave his fingers through hers. “Pendejo,” she said softly with a shake of her head.

“You’re the one who said you wanna stick around,” he said, a smile on his face despite the exhaustion.

Allowing herself to lie down next to him again, she let her cheek rest against his chest. She pulled her hand away from his face and let her arm drape across him. “I do. And I will.” She felt the ride of the scar on his stomach beneath her palm. “I promise.”

[artemiseamoon]

Rewatching one of my old favs (to finish Death Kiss) and all I see now is Bishop 😂

I’m at the motel scene now, and it’s all Bish & Blu in my mind.

[garbinge]

The Middle Reyes Sister

Collection of one shots of middle sister OFC Manny Reyes.

Tribute - Angel Reyes & EZ Reyes & OC Manny Reyes

Family Night - Ez Reyes & Angel Reyes & Sister!OC Manny Reyes

Siblings - Angel Reyes  & OC Manny Reyes

Break in - Bishop Losa x OC Manny Reyes 

[proceduralpassion]

More Than A Woman | Chapter 02

Pairing: Angel Reyes x OFC

Destiny "Desi" Maduro helps Angel and his son pick up the pieces after a recent death rocks their world. In the midst of doing so, the school psychologist navigates a rocky family life and adjusts to being thrown into the MC world.

Warning(s): language

WC: 1.4k

Angel entered the clubhouse a little lighter than he did when he left. He was immediately greeted with the smell of good food and wandered over to the kitchen area where there was slow-cooked barbacoa that Hank had put on the grill. There was no special occasion, the man just loved to whip out some grilled food every now and then. 

EZ was the first face he rounded upon once he reached the table that held the roasted meat. 

“Hey, man,” the younger Reyes brother greeted.

Angel nodded his head and replied with a distracted “hey.”

EZ stopped him from going towards the table by blocking him. “Pops picked up Santi?”

“Yeah,” Angel looked at him, “But I’m gonna try and start picking him up more. At least on some days.”

Small steps. Of course with the demands of the club, he wouldn’t always be able to pick his first grader up, but he was going to try and be more intentional about doing so. 

EZ smiled, “That’s good,” he ventured out on a limb by asking next, “How’re you doing?”

For the first time, he could somewhat answer truthfully. His previous discussion with Santo Padre’s elementary school psychologist, Ms. Maduro, wouldn't solve all of his problems, but he felt off to a great start. He walked out of their meeting feeling more motivated and clear-headed. So when he replied to his brother’s question with “Yeah, I’m actually feeling really better. You don’t have to worry about me, little brother,” he actually meant it.

Just then, Creeper popped his head into the clubhouse and yelled inside, “Yo, Angel, ya pops is here. He’s got Santi.”

Like always, Felipe never felt the need to venture inside. He always waited outside, not ever moving much further than beyond his truck. As Angel walked down the stairs and towards his father, he saw Santi holding his abuelo’s hand and shading his face with the other hand. 

Santi wasn’t exactly thrilled to see his father, but he wasn’t shying away from him either. Angel decided against reaching his arms out for a hug, but settled for dapping the young boy up. Santi returned the gesture and walked closer to him now that Felipe was backing away. Angel looked back up at his father, “I’ve got another doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, won’t be able to get him.”

Angel shook his head, “No problem, I’ll get him.”

And with that, Felipe got into his truck and turned the ignition. Ever since Dita, the man wouldn’t speak to his sons unless absolutely necessary. If it weren’t for Santi, the man would probably not lose any sleep over never speaking to his sons again. 

***********

Felipe mentioned not being able to pick up his grandson on Tuesday, but he had no problem getting him on Monday. In fact, he came to the clubhouse much earlier than usual. As in before Santo Padre’s Elementary classes were dismissed. Felipe’s demeanor was still calm, but there was a slight sharpness to his tone as he spoke to Angel.

“He got into a fight at school. Something over a toy at recess,” Felipe walked away again to get into his truck, but not before uttering a “Pick up your fucking phone,” to Angel.

Angel inspected his son’s face and was relieved to see no major marks or scratches on it. That didn’t mean he still wasn’t pissed that some “snot-nosed little fucker” picked a fight with his son. Of course, he didn’t know whether the other kid was the instigator or not, but that didn’t matter when it came to his kid.

He got his phone out of his pocket and realized that he did, in fact, have two missed calls on his phone. He was too busy across the border beating a rival’s ass. Oh, the parallels. 

One of the calls was from the school’s principal and the other was from Ms. Maduro. 

Just then, his screen flashed again with an incoming call. Recognizing the principal’s number, he roughly spoke into the phone, “Yeah, I know, I’ll be there in a few.” 

He was guiding Santi into the clubhouse as he spoke into the phone before bending down at eye level with his son. 

“Santi, stay here. I gotta go to the school and deal with this.”

Chucky was nearby at the bar and he walked around to greet Santi with promises of activities they could get into while Angel was away. Besides EZ, Chucky was the only one who was equipped to somewhat entertain the six year old. 

“Go ahead, Angel Reyes. We’ll be here until you get back.” Chucky shooed Angel off without so much as another glance as him and Santi went over to a table discussing the 64 pack crayon box that Chucky had gotten for him. 

**********

Angel looked at the school harshly for a minute before finally taking his helmet off and dismounting his bike. No matter what actually transpired, he was still pissed that his son had gotten into a fight. Logically, he knew that fights were a part of growing up, especially as a boy. Hell, he and EZ still sometimes tussled over meaningless things. Being reminded of his brother, he pulled out his phone to send a text EZ’s way just in case the Mayans VP was curious as to where he was at. 

He walked down the long school hallway and approached the open door to Destiny Maduro’s office. She obviously heard his nearing steps as she looked up expectantly just before he knocked the door.

“Mr. Reyes, come in,” she said while standing from her office chair. He motioned for him to take the seat across from the desk before sitting back down herself. There was a sympathetic smile painted on her face as she moved her laptop away. 

Angel didn’t waste any time trying to get to the bottom of today’s mayhem, “What happened?”

“Santi brought a toy of his to school. A LEGO Iron-Man? One of the boys wanted to play with it, but Santi wouldn’t let him. They got into a fight over it in the sandbox.”

Angel gave a sad smile, “His mom used to play legos with him. They made all kinds of superheroes together.”

Destiny mirrored his expression, “I’m sorry. I figured the toy had sentimental value. I know he’s probably attached to them, but I’m gonna recommend he doesn’t bring them to school. Not when they mean so much to him and can possibly get broken or stolen.”

Angel nodded his assent.

With the pause came Angel’s attempt to disrupt the somber energy, “Would it be bad if I tell him that I’m proud he whooped some ass?”

“Maybe tell him you’re proud he stood up for himself,” Destiny suggested with a laugh. “The fight was over before it really began so Santi’s not in any trouble other than the time-out his teacher gave him.”

“Thank you.”

“You should be aware,” Destiny started carefully, “that I’m keeping this in my notes for Santi. It’s not gonna go on his permanent record or anything, but it’s just something for me, so that I’m keeping up with every part of Santi’s development and well-being.” She never wanted her student’s parents to feel like their kids were being targeted or in danger of being expelled. 

Angel gave no resistance. He was convinced that Santi would be given detention or at risk for suspension. He was thankful that grace was given instead and made no fight or pushback. He thanked her once again and stood up.

“Hell of a Monday, huh?”

“Ha! Yeah, it has. Now, I’ve got to find some place to scrap my car.” Destiny had stood up, too. She was gathering her things and Angel probed the statement she just made.

“Your car?”

Destiny smiled, “Yeah. I got a new one a couple of weeks ago now that my Pinto finally gave up on me. It’s been sitting in my front yard ever since and my HOA won’t shut up about it.”

“You know I work at a scrap yard, right?”

“Oh!” Destiny gave a noise of surprise, not entirely sure of the man’s job, only that he was a part of the Santo Padre Mayans MC charter based on his kutte. She had the slightest inkling that all of their dealings weren’t entirely legal, which is why news of his legitimate job momentarily stupefied her. 

“Yeah,” Angel replied, “Will it drive a short trip?”

“Barely, but I might be able to get one final use out of it,” she chuckled. 

“Well, tell you what, I’m picking up Santi tomorrow. Why don’t you drive the Pinto here tomorrow and bring the title? I’ll tow it to get it scrapped, free of charge.” 

A/N: First off, thank y'all sooo much for the great response back to the first chapter! Glad you're enjoying the ride so far and I hope you continue to. Don't forget to reblog and lmk how you feel! Always love hearing y'all thoughts and predictions 😍

Taglist: @mijagif @drabbles-mc @kmhappybunny240 @babaohhhriley @nunya7394 @darqchilddaydreamz

[amysteryspot]

Mystery WIPs

A Woman's Worth - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader [Request] Anthony tries to save his marriage after realizing how much he had hurt his wife with his foolish actions.

You and I - Jay Halstead x Leia Seresin (OFC) - Crossover between Chicago PD and Top Gun: Maverick Leia goes through the pain of loosing someone she loves to the military career again.

Untitled - Ez Reyes x Reader Reader is grieving and Ez is the only one who can take her mind off of it for a bit.

Untitled - Alfie Solomons x Agnes Stewart (OC) x Thomas Shelby Tommy takes Agnes to London for a meeting at Alfie's bakery.

Borrowed Time [8] - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Crystal "Icebreaker" Kazansky The Dagger Squad celebrates their sucess at the mission and Crystal opens up about her father.

All American Nightmare - Jax Teller x Beatrice Winston (OC) The adventures of Beatrice and her love for his brother's best friend.

Sweet Begginings - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (polyamory)

Sugarplum needs a roommate, Bradley and Jake are tired of the Bachelor Officer Quarters, Bob intervenes to bring them together and help his friends out… what could go wrong?

Bitter - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Reader is still bitter about her breakup with Jake, but sheisn't the only one that misses it.

Untitled - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Reader takes care of Tommy after yet another fight (before the war).

Last Update: 15/03/2023

[appropriate-writers-name]

Day Dreams.

Ezekiel “Ez” Reyes x OFC Eliza Quintana

Warnings: None but intense feels😭, RIP y'alls hormones

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: I can never forgive myself for how lonely I made myself feel writing this, but Ez deserves the world in a hand basket and I stand by it 🤧✊🏾

So this is a mini series filled with stand alone one shots of Ez and an OFC named Eliza. They don't need to be read in any specific order now, but in the future if I decide to add back story it'll be separate. These are just random scenes for when I get in the mood to be Ez's baby mama lmao

Anyways, this is what I do instead of focusing on the Lemonade Series smdh, I gotta do better lol

You can check out more of my works on my Masterlist and join my Taglist!

(Gif Credits to @azularen)

Ez was startled awake, the soft sounds of fussing and cooing rousing him awake from his pleasant slumber. He lifted his head slightly to look down at their newly shifted positions. There was a baby on his chest; a soft head tucked into Ez's neck, a chubby hand greedily fisting his shirt, his silver chain tangled between the tiny fingers. Ez's large right hand was covering almost the entirety of the infant's back, effectively hiding the woman's hand that lay between his and Andrés.

His eyes moved to see the woman who had been occupying the majority of his thoughts for the last four months. She was tightly pressed against Ez's firm body, her front pressing against his side, with her head peacefully resting on his chest. His left arm had wound around her tightly, securing her to the safety and comfort his body provided her with. As the baby fell back to sleep with the help of some shushing from Ez, Ez closed his eyes to retreat into the imaginary.

He imagined claiming the baby laying against his chest as his own. He thought about the woman laying against him, how she would be his wife, and the three of them would be a family. He imagined coming home to this house with his own key, his presence expected at 6pm sharp for dinner every night. A smile crept to his face at the thought of the many scoldings he would receive over being late, and how he would drag Angel with him so they could both share in her playful wrath. His heart swelled at the thought of Sunday dinners involving the entire club, Chucky and Letty included, as well as his pops, hosted at his home. He imagined the holiday parties, and the different celebrations they would have for every occasion.

He envisioned coming home with toys for Andrés and ice cream and french fries for his pregnant Mrs., her belly swollen with their first unborn child. He felt a warmth in his chest at the thought of his own baby growing within her womb, excitedly awaiting it’s entrance into the world. He imagined the different stages of her pregnancy, her belly getting bigger every day. He felt his hand squeeze her waist slightly as he thought about how it would feel to rub her belly and feel the soft kicks of his baby.

A vivid scene started to play in his mind. He would be coming home in the afternoon a little earlier than usual, coming to hear his two sons, eight and seven, loudly arguing over who was cheating in a game outside in the backyard. He would chuckle as they reminded him of his relationship with Angel growing up. As he emerges on the back patio of their home, he would find his wife and five year old daughter engaged in their afternoon tea, his usual chair now occupied by Gloria the Hippo. He would bend down to kiss the woman of his dreams, the butterflies still present after 8 years, giving his beautiful baby girl a kiss on her forehead as she insisted he wash his hands to get ready for tea. He would wave at the boys, both too busy trying to prove the other wrong to even acknowledge their father.

He'd reenter the kitchen through the sliding glass doors, smelling the mouth watering aroma of a home cooked meal baking in the oven, moving his way up the stairs. The hallways would be littered with an obstacle course of toys, crooked family pictures on the walls alluding to his sons' rough housing while he was away at work. He would make sure to stop by the twins' bedroom, double checking the integrity of the baby monitor, the three year olds peacefully taking their midday nap. He would shake his head with a smirk, thinking about the amount of energy the terrorizing twins would have to wreak havoc on the Reyes household.

The door to his father's bedroom would be ajar as usual, as he would often be away at the carnicería. It would take much persuasion to get Felipe to move in with them. With Ez having his own family, the relationship the two had had before would no longer be the same. No more were the days of falling asleep on the couch after watching the game, or coming by for breakfast every morning before going to the club. Ez's attention was now on his ever growing family, his wife and children taking up whatever left over time he had away from the club. After the death of Marisol, Felipe had leaned heavily for Ez's and Angel's support for a family network. Now with five grandchildren and a new daughter, the only thing that may have held him back was the memories in his house in which he had raised his own kids and loved his wife in. As a compromise, they’d recreate Felipe's bedroom in their house, as well as adding much of the decor and China pieces into the decoration of their house. Ez and Eliza had created a beautiful altar for her in the family room, the children saying goodnight to her every evening.

Ez imagined entering his master bedroom, a room that would have changed since he first entered all those years ago, now accommodating both of their belongings. He would shower and dress, getting ready to join his family when he would spot a small onesie on the made bed, something out of the ordinary for his neat-freak of a wife. “Last One, I Mean It.” would be written on it in cursive lettering, a rush of warmth flooding Ez's system as a boyish smile forced its way through the surprise he was feeling.

Gripping the tiny piece of clothing to his broad chest, he would excitedly make his way to his family still out in the backyard. His wife would look up at him with a twinkle in her eye, a gentle smile gracing her face as she saw the look of pure adoration and joy in his eyes. She would rise up from her tea party, earning a whine from the princess seated beside her. Her hips would sway as her long sun dress blew in the wind, making her look ethereal. Her hand would lay across her lower stomach, the little life shielded there in the safety of it's mother's womb, growing rapidly. He would pull her close to him, pressing her flush against his body as he smiled down at her, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate embrace, eliciting a groan from his children who will have seen their parents physical display of love so many times, Ez would think they'd be used to it by now. She'd pull away and narrow her eyes at him, telling him that this was indeed the last one, pulling a wicked smile from Ez who reminds her of her words "as many as you want".

The 5 year old will have lost all her patience by then, demanding her mother return to the tea party, scolding the adults for being rude and lacking manners. Ez would join in, his daughter already having his tiara ready for his head to adorn. Ez would spend his time playing referee from afar as his two sons argued over who was cheating, sipping cold watered down tea and nibbling on salty scones his daughter had made while being reminded time and time again “pinky up”, and glancing at the baby monitor screen occasionally while keeping an ear out for the oven timer. His life would be perfect—she would make his life perfect.

Another round of fussing drags Ez away from the domestic fantasy and back to his reality. This time no amount of shushing would calm the baby, his wails only growing louder, startling a sleeping Eliza awake. She adjusts her position, with her hand pressed against Ez's chest to prop herself up, she looks down at the sight before her with an adoring look and a soft smile. She reaches for her baby, pressing him to her chest as she moves to stand from the couch the three of them had been cuddling in, the movie long ended and the throw blanket forsaken on the floor.

"I should get going," he offers, sitting up with his feet now on the ground, the time on the cable box indicating that it was well past midnight.

"Nonsense, Ez, it's too late. You can stay." She says, her body bouncing up and down to effectively quiet the baby, now contently sucking on his fist over her shoulder. "I'll go find some clothes for you, I think my brother left some from the last time he came around. I'll go get them and a towel, you can shower while I get Andrés a bottle." And without space for Ez to argue, she had turned around to approach the stairs. Ez shook his head, smirking at the woman he had just dreamed up a life with, her nurturing heart solidifying what he already knows he wants. He follows her, hearing a rustling in one of the guest room dressers. She emerges with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, reaching in the hallway linen closet for a clean towel, before guiding the Mayan to her bedroom.

"Everything else you may need is in the bathroom. I'll be in the next room with Andrés, I'll be back in a bit." She tells him, reading his body language carefully. He's somewhat tense, as if in conflicting thought, looking at the clothes in his hands a little longer than one would. "Ez," she gently calls for his attention, walking away from the door and back to him. With a hand on his cheek to hold his attention she tells him "if I was uncomfortable, I wouldn't have asked you to stay. If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to sleep in here, you can sleep in the guest room, or if you want to leave that's okay too." Her tone is patient and her eyes are kind, "I just plan to sleep. We just cuddled on the couch, I think we can manage moving to the bed" her playful wink causes Ez to release his tension at her reassurance with a grin and a chuckle.

With a sweet peck to his cheek, she turns to leave and feed the hungry baby. Ez's eyes refused to leave her retreating figure as she crossed the room to the bedroom door, his eyes watching her wide childbearing hips as a smirk and a blush cross his face as he thinks back to his vision. With a shake of his head, he enters the bathroom to wash up.

Once finished and changed, finding no Eliza in the bedroom, he moves to the nursery, watching her stand by the crib as he leaned against the door frame. Her body swayed softly as she held the bottle to his mouth, humming a soft tune that Ez recognized as a popular radio song Eliza had complained about not getting out of her head. He watches for a moment, before his paternal instincts surfaced; though this was not his son and this was not officially his woman, he had become very protective of the pair. He truly wanted to be a father, and Angel had teased him many times, saying that Ez was having too much fun "playing house". He couldn’t help his reaction to them, feeling like a puzzle piece that just fit. There was great chemistry between him and Eliza, feeling an easy flow in their dynamic that he could escape to when his life got so out of control.

He moves away from the door frame, no longer able to fight the magnetic pull he was feeling. He wrapped the smaller woman in his large arms, cocooning her and the baby in his protective presence. Her head laid perfectly back against his shoulder, his cheek pressing to her temple as he looked down at the small infant cradled gently now in both of their arms. He laid one hand on the baby's tummy, Andrés’ grippy hands instantly finding Ez's large fingers, struggling to wrap them completely around. His other arm went to rest below the baby, offering assistance and support, allowing him to take on much more of the baby's already light weight.

As she melted further back into Ez's warmth, he could feel the vibrating hums from her chest in his, and she could feel the strong thump of his steady heartbeat against her back, almost lulling her. The soft sounds of her baby suckling always provided her with a sense of security that Andrés was okay: alive and well, safe and sound, happy and full. With her eyes closed for a moment, she allowed herself to release her worries for the night—Ez was here now. Though she had only been a single mother for a few months, the constant worry about every detail was magnified as she had no one to share the care of Andrés with. It was all on her, and it was taking a toll. With Ez, he was so careful with Andrés, so loving and nurturing, and it felt natural to rely on him.

In this very moment they could both step out of reality and, as Angel always teased, play house. She knew, in the few short months she'd known Ez, that he was what she wanted; as a friend, a partner, a lover, and a father to her son; Ez knew that she was the woman he was meant to be with. Neither one of them could describe it, knowing it was happening fast, but nothing could have felt more right to the both of them. They didn’t have the most conventional relationship, going a lot slower than most would. This was different for both of them; Eliza not sure of how to navigate dating with a baby and Ez not sure of how to date someone with a baby. They were figuring it out together at their own pace, wanting this to be as organic as possible, not wanting to depend too heavily on the opinions of others. Her home was a safe space, where no one could interject their opinions of how the two of them engage.

“I love you, Ezekiel.” the words slip past her lips quietly as she felt a heat in her chest at how much the man holding her had changed her life in the last few months. She expected to feel fear at the confession, but there wasn’t any—it felt right to tell him. She felt his arms pull her impossibly close to him in response, there is a quiet that falls over them, but to her surprise she’s not alarmed by his silence. He releases her, maneuvering himself around her to take the now sleeping baby from her arms and placing him in the crib. She watches in awe of the large man with the tiny baby; he was a Mayan, capable of doing unspeakable damage with his bare hands, but here he held this innocent infant so sweetly in those same exact hands. 

He turned back to her, his soft expressive eyes boring into hers as he took a step forward reaching for her hips, her hands going to rest on his exposed forearms. He pressed his chest to hers, the intensity of his gaze making her breathing hitch. The two of them just stood there, looking deeply into the other’s eyes, an act that would make many uncomfortable. She felt her bottom lip tremble slightly as a rush of overwhelming emotion washes over her as she got lost in the sea of emotions swirling in his eyes. A hand leaves her hip, coming to rest on her cheek as he wipes away a stray tear that fell from her eye.

“I love you, Eliza.”

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Mayans MC Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You will not be able to read anything marked as smut without your community labels turned to show.

Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical💉 Triggering material🚩

Angel Reyes

The Wager❤💦💦❤

Angel and Manny have a bet, you get to be the one decide who wins.

EZ Reyes

Coming soon

Manny

The Wager❤💦💦❤

Angel and Manny have a bet, you get to be the one decide who wins.

****

A Gentle Kind of Love Complete ❤❤😨💦💦

You and Coco meet overseas when you are doing aid work. When you move to Santo Padre to settle down, your life changes forever when you and Manny strike up a friendship.

Guero

The New Bartender❤💦

Out of desperation, Bishop hires a real bartender.

****

Bottles

The New Bartender❤💦

Out of desperation, Bishop hires a real bartender.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

'writing is hard af & honestly, you're killing it' shoutouts

providing feedback & helping circulate stories is super important. so I put together another group of stories i’ve read recently that left me thinking ‘chef’s kiss. pure perfection.’ it's been a few months since I've done this. check 'em out for your weekend reading. tried to grab some for different characters so there's 19 stories total

including the key I use for my masterlist (bc I know smut isn't the vibe for some)

key: 💦 = NSFW 💙 = Fluff 💔 = Angst 🔥= No Smut, Just Great ST

marvel:

1 a hand to hold | @heyiamthatbitch 💙

pairing: sam wilson x reader

2 a job well done | @angrythingstarlight 💦

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

3 catching Peter Parker’s interest |@supremethunda 💙

pairing: peter parker x black!reader

4 eternal flame (prologue) | @xuberanthartt

pairing: steve rogers x black!oc

5 erase every trace | @angrythingstarlight 💦

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

6 opening up | @pointbreak-odinson 💦

pairing: frank castle x black!reader

7 puffballs | @canumoveurseatup-no 💙

pairing: bucky barnes x black!stark!reader

8 the fourth horseman | @smallestchances 💦

pairing: thor x reader

9 time | @pointbreak-odinson

pairing: sam wilson x reader

10 training day | @piratesfromspace 🔥

pairing: frank castle x reader

11 with great responsibility comes |@basicjetsetter 💔

pairing: peter parker x black!fem!reader

mayans mc

12 are we on a date right now? | @brattyfics 💙

pairing: miguel galindo x black!reader

13 budding romance (part I) | @superhoeva 💙

pairing: angel reyes x florist!woc!reader

14 bullseye | @angelreyesgirl 💙

pairing: angel reyes x reader

15 day dreams | @appropriate-writers-name 💙

pairing: ez reyes x ofc (eliza quintana)

16 ice cream & ferris wheels | @imagineredwood 💙

pairing: creeper vargas x reader

17 little bunny | @thisiswhatshefelt 💦

pairing: ez reyes x black!reader

18 tiktok prank | @jeonsblackgf-writes

pairing: angel reyes x black!reader

henry cavill:

19 the road to paloma | @thetaoofzoe 💙💦

pairing: captain syverson (sandcastle) x you

[narcolini]

in his shadow - pt. 4

ez reyes x oc: ava gomez (& bonus angel), 3072 words

for day 26 of whumpril, using alternative prompt: words that can’t be taken back

a/n: ahh i love making drama for the sake of drama, it’s so good for the soul

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc​ (let me know if u want to be tagged!)

previous part here

It’s been a week, well, a weekend and a day, and EZ still hasn’t heard from Ava. The last he saw of her, she was leaving the trailer, hair a mess, jacket and near-empty tequila bottle stuffed into her bag. It’d been good. Real fucking good. Nice, like they were dating, or something. Like there was a genuine connection between them. And then, nothing.

No text, no call.

He’s trying to be chilled about it. No biggie, because they aren’t dating, are they? They barely even know each other. Well, that’s a lie, even if it does make him feel better to think it. They’d gotten close fast enough to feel like he’s known her as long as the rest of the guys have. Longer, even. Maybe. He knows things she’s never told them. Heard the shit that goes on behind that doe-eyed expression, that endless look of kindness. It sits in her features even when she’s swearing, or chatting shit with liquor on her breath. Just endless, endless, kindness. Like she’d been drawn up by Disney or some shit.

‘The fuck you smiling about?’ Angel asks, lips tweaking like he’s in on it, catching his brother’s attention.

They’re parked up outside the sandwich place they can’t get enough of, waiting for the food coma to settle before they leave again. Angel’s reclined on his bike, head against the handle bars, EZ’s standing on the sidewalk, shoulder to the nearest pole.  

‘Nothing.’ EZ shrugs. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Bout what?’

‘You want a list or something? Stuff, things.’

Angel slides the shades up from his face, into his hair. He’s scrutinising him like he knows something, or is about to. Like he can read the thoughts in EZ’s head. ‘Did you get laid?’ he asks, uncertain of his guess until he sees EZ’s chin dip in response. ‘Ho—ly fuck. Little bro finally got his dick wet.’

‘Shut up, man.’

‘Who’s the lucky princess?’ He smirks. ‘I know her?’

EZ’s head shakes. He hates when Angel’s like this, hates even more when he’s right about it too. ‘I’m not telling you when you’re being a dick about it.’

He sits up, boots planting on the ground either side of his bike. ‘Shit, it’s that serious? Why am I only just hearing about it now?’

How does he answer that? Logically, he know’s it not serious, not by their standards. Not by Ava’s either, probably. But he has to physically stop himself from saying yes, because that’s the answer that tries to fly out. Yeah, kinda. Yeah, I hope so.

‘I don’t know,’ he says instead. ‘Maybe.’

‘Maybe?’ Angel’s teetering on a laugh, pure glee at his brothers uncertainty sitting behind his eyes. He could do this for hours. ‘You gotta give me a name, Romeo. Who’s got you all caught up like this?’

EZ sighs. He’s got two options, a long death, drawn out and real fucking annoying, or the short, merciful one. Sure to sting, but quicker to fade. ‘Well,’ he starts, hanging his thumbs in his jean pockets, ‘me and Ava have kind of…’

‘Kind of…’ Angel winds his head in EZ’s vision, trying to lure the rest of it out of him. ‘Started a bookclub, or what? The fuck is it, bro?’

‘We’ve been hanging out.’

He squints, then his eyes go wide. ‘Oh, come on, Ezekiel.’

‘There it is.’ He shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve lied and said he was smiling about his fucking sandwich.

‘You slept with her?’ Angel’s voice pitches up, like he can’t believe it. ‘Damn, bro, it’s like you fucking hate happiness. My God.’

He’s shaking his head at him, but EZ’s no idea why. Honestly, he hasn’t a fucking clue. What was so bad about it? They’re both adults, they’re both single. He know’s Ava’s baggage as well as anyone, better even, than Angel himself. If anything, spending time with her had made him happier than he’s been in years. The first real good thing to happen since getting out.

‘The fuck does that mean, Angel?’

He ignores the question, muttering to himself, as he toys with the helmet in his lap. ‘That’s so fucked up, man.’

‘Why is it?’ EZ's back straightens, a defensive response. He’s starting to get irritated. ‘It was her idea.’

‘Yeah,’ Angel nods, ‘and now you’re all up in your feelings, falling in love with her, while she’s out, acting all new and sexy and shit, thanks to your dumbass self.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘What’s wrong with…’ He scoffs, looking up again. ‘You realise she’s about to go out and get a man that isn’t in a fucking MC now? Probably on Tinder already. You’re a rebound, boy-scout.’

EZ bristles, jaw clenching. He tries to shake it off afterwards, like Angel’s words are nothing at all, just noise without weight. It isn’t convincing, even he can tell that. He’s got a face like a scolded child. ‘You don’t know that,’ he says.

‘Don’t I?’ Angel laughs. ‘Been in this club way fucking longer than you, and I ain’t never seen a widow go for a Mayan twice.’

He’s right, EZ knows that. Even though he’s not seen it himself, he can recognise why. One death would put you off for good, but it isn’t like that, is it? Ava hadn’t used him as the jumping point for the return of her love life. Wouldn’t mess him about for the sake of messing about. And it wasn’t like he was in love with her, or falling, even. They were just hanging out. It was fun, mutually. It still is. It can be as simple as that, no matter what Angel puts into his head.

‘You spoken to her since?’ Angel asks.

He doesn’t answer, which says all Angel needs to hear. Tutting, laughing, head shaking like EZ is utterly clueless.

‘You’re full of shit, Angel,’ he snarks, pulling his own helmet from the seat of his bike. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Yeah, cause you’re the expert on women.’

I know her, he wants to say, clicking the strap under his chin. I know her, and you don’t, even with all the years you had to get there. Maybe it was rebound, maybe he’s the rebound, but so what, right? That doesn’t mean he’s fucked up, or ruined whatever they’d started. Ava had wanted someone to treat her like a normal fucking woman, and he’d done that, that’s all.

That’s all, isn’t it?

*

‘There’s someone out front for you, Ava.’

‘Really?’ She looks up from her work, hand mid-wipe over the leather seat. ‘I’ve not booked anyone in for the afternoon.’

Her colleague shrugs, not lingering long enough to explain beyond, ‘He said he’s here to see you.’

She only has a handful of male clients—eyebrows, botox, lip-filler—but none of them are due anytime soon. If one of them’s back already, then it can only be a bad thing. A complaint, maybe, a mistake on her part. God. She hates dealing with that. The guilt over it, no matter how small, is enough to knock her confidence for weeks. To make her doubt her qualifications entirely. She chucks the cloth on the side, peeling the gloves from her hands to toss them in the trash on the way past. It’ll be okay, really, she doesn’t have any clients that would hold it against her. I mean, she’s an aesthetician, not a robot. Mistakes happen. Bodies react in different ways, even if you’ve had the treatment before.

She rounds the corner, into the small shop front that acts as a greeting desk and waiting room all in one, and finds it’s not a client at all. It’s EZ, full leathers and helmet, standing dark against the blinding pink of the walls.

‘Oh,’ she can’t help but feel relieved, ‘it’s you.’

He smiles, looking shy from her reaction. ‘Yeah, hey.’

‘D’you need something?’ She pauses behind the desk, waiting as he dawdles forward. It’s obvious he isn’t comfortable here. He looks seconds from sprinting out the door, knocking fake palms trees and magazine stands on his way. ‘Did you call me?’

‘Nah, I figured I’d just stop buy. Speak to you in person.’ He puts his elbow on the desk in front of her, leaning like he’s comfortable. Or trying to be. ‘You got a minute?’

She has an entire afternoon, technically, but she also has a shit load of paperwork to catch up on. Expenses to list, lash in-fills to count. ‘Sure, I got a window.’ An hour, for him, is nothing.

She nods toward the back, inviting him to follow. They could talk here, sure, but he looks like he wants privacy. And, well, she doesn’t really want her colleagues to see them chatting in the first place. She’d got this job after Seb had died, unable to go back to her last one. So the shock of a man in a kutte, lingering in the middle of the shop, might send a gossip shockwave strong enough to unsettle her peace forever. The questions would never stop—and God knows, she doesn’t have the patience for that.

‘You been good?’ he asks, walking behind her.

‘Yeah, busy.’

‘Though I might’ve heard from you.’

She lets him into her room, and shuts the door behind. He looks just as out of place here, standing by the reclining seat, under the white lights, as he did out front. ‘I know,’ she sighs, ‘I haven’t had a minute to stop.’

He nods but doesn’t look convinced. It’s not like she’s lying, not like she has any reason too. They’d made up, she thought, more than made up. The last time they hung out, they’d ended the day on a high she’d never even imagined. Swollen lips, fresh spirit, an electricity under her skin that she’d forgotten the feeling of. She didn’t think they had any more catching up to do. Let’s call it even, he said, and then sweeten the deal on top of it.

‘Is something the matter?’ she asks, because he clearly isn’t going to start himself. He’s standing like he’s scared to move, one thigh against the leg-rest.

‘Nah.’ His head shakes, brow pinching. ‘Not really.’

‘But?’

He sighs, settling his hands on the edges of his cut, fists over his chest. ‘Honestly, Angel got in my head about something,’ he confesses. ‘Thought I could talk to you about it.’

Now it’s her turn to frown, because she never got the impression Angel had the ability. EZ’s the brainy one, the logical one. Angel surely had no way of twisting his thoughts away from himself.

‘Oh boy.’ She lets out a breath, moving to lean against the nearest counter. ‘Should I be worried?’

He smiles slightly, just enough to put it into the creases of his eyes. ‘Depends,’ he says, ‘on whether I’m a rebound or not.’

‘What?’

‘Angel thinks you’ve, I don’t know. Shit.’ He sighs. ‘Can we start that again?’

‘A rebound?’ How could he be, how could he or Angel even think that? For starters, it’s been three fucking years since Sebastian died. If he was a rebound, it was less of a bounce and more like a delayed crack, a skimmed stone that made one fucking ripple, way out into the bay. ‘As in, what? I used you to make myself feel better?’

He’s exhaling through his teeth, rubbing the back of his head. ‘That came out wrong, was trying to make a dumb joke, lighten the mood. Sorry.’

But it came from somewhere, out his lips like he’d been wondering it his whole way here. ‘No, go on. What did Angel think?’

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Well someone’s gonna have to explain that rebound line, EZ.’

He looks like he wants the ground to eat him, whole and scrambling, but he carries on. To his credit, he carries on. ‘He thinks us sleeping together was a mistake.’

She doesn’t comment on the fact that telling Angel in the first place, is the real mistake, but from the looks of him he’s knows it already. Like he regrets it enough to make her overlook it, focusing on the next problem. ‘And that matters because…?'

‘Like I said, he got in my head about it.’

‘How?’

‘How what?’

‘How did he get in your fucking head?’ she stresses, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. They’re parroting each others words like they’re speaking a different language. ‘Angel thinks a lot of dumb shit, and you never take notice of that. Why does it matter now?’

Why is it any of his business? How can something like that even be a mistake, when it’s just fun, just two people enjoying themselves. If Angel’s said she’s using EZ as a rebound, to propel herself forward in some way, why would he care, why would he—

‘Oh my god,’ she breathes, ‘you believe him, don’t you? You think I’m using you?’

‘What?’ His face scrunches, disgust showing in the kiss of his teeth. ‘No, course not.’

‘Well, you believe something, EZ. What the fuck is it? A rebound or a mistake?’

‘Neither.’ His voice is sharper now, words hardening into annoyance. ‘I just want to know what the fuck the plan is from here,’ he says. ‘Cause, you know, I’ve not heard from you at all since it happened.’

‘So, naturally, I have to have been using you?’

If she’d known he’d be this concerned, this paranoid about five days of quiet, she’d have never bothered. Honestly, she’d have never let it get past kissing in the first place. Some people can’t do just sex—Hell, she used to be one of them—if she’d known that was the case with him, she’d have stopped that train long ago. Saved them both the stress.

‘You know,’ he says carefully, like he’s holding something back, ‘you know, I wouldn’t think that.’

She flaps her arms up. ‘You near enough said it yourself, EZ. The fuck am I meant to do? Read minds?’

He turns away, just for a moment, to take a breath big enough to lift his shoulders. She watches them go up, down, up again. When he’s facing her afterwards, he looks calmer. Not believably so, but in the conscious, put on like a mask, way. He’s trying, at least. She appreciates that, as much as it does nothing for the sourness in her stomach. The quiet anger beneath her ribcage.

‘Look, I just, really didn’t know what the fuck to think, okay?’

She nods. Carry on, keep digging.

‘Angel said all this shit, and I hadn’t heard from you.’ His voice lowers a fraction. ‘And I know the stuff with Seb is always gonna be there.’

‘Make your point, EZ.’ She tries to sound commanding, but it comes out too quiet, almost like a plea. The mention of Sebastian now, right now, in relation to whatever she’s started between them, is the last thing either of them need. It doesn’t help his argument in the way he thinks it does.

‘I don’t care,’ he says, ‘if this goes no where. I don’t care if we never fucking touch each other again.’ He’s closer now, eyes intense on hers. ‘But if your plan is to avoid me forever—’

She cuts him off. ‘When have I said that?’

He waits, searching her expression.

‘I’ve been busy,’ she says, for what feels like the hundredth time, true or not. ‘I didn’t think sex came with a contract, y’know? One fuck equals three texts a day.’

He laughs, but it’s dry as anything, stripped of all humour. ‘Come on, Ava. If you don’t wanna talk like adults, I don’t know why I’m even here.’

‘Yeah, me and you both.’ This wasn’t even an issue before Angel had spoken to him, wouldn’t be something worth talking about at all, if she’d just been allowed to come back to him in her time. Of her own accord. ‘I had no intentions of blowing you off, EZ,’ she says, putting it like an insult somehow. Too highly strung to use it as the mediator she intended it to be. ‘If anything, I was really fucking happy with, y’know, whatever we’ve got going on.’

It still works, though. Words tight, or not, they land all the same, softening EZ’s shoulders. Putting a lighter breath into his throat.

‘Yeah, sure,’ she continues, ‘I’m not planning on having a relationship any time soon—but that doesn’t mean I’m using you.’

‘I know.’

‘I wouldn’t do that.’

He sighs, repeating it. ‘I know.’

‘I should’ve text you,’ she admits. ‘But I didn’t think you’d be taking advice from Angel, of all people.’

He catches the slight smile she’s offering, doubling it himself, and partnering it with a half-laugh. ‘Shit,’ he says, ‘I might kill him, actually. Think that’s probably the best solution.’

‘That or sewing his mouth shut.’

He snorts, head twitching sideways with he force of it. ‘That’d solve half my fucking problems in one.’

‘Yeah,’ she agrees, ‘me too.’ Someone should’ve thought of that sooner. ‘So, are we good? No pressure and no panic either, right?’

He doesn’t want it to be just sex, doesn’t want that to signal the end of them hanging out at all, but she equally doesn’t want it to be a promise of anything more. If he can’t meet her in the middle, then a clean break is all they have left. Back to how it was, with her as the widow, and him as the prospect. Nothing more, nothing less. Two people with one foot in the ring.

But he nods, and she sighs like the alternative would’ve made her collapse.

‘I really gotta stop saying shit without thinking,’ he says, smiling faintly.

She mirrors him. ‘True, but I have to stop saying nothing at all. Keep forgetting you you aren’t as old and fucked up as me.’

‘Woah,’ he frowns, ‘old? Come on, you got at least ten years before retirement.’

She laughs, too caught off guard to be offended. She’s got six years on him, max, but it’s not worth fighting over it now. ‘I like how you’re fine with the fucked up part.’

‘Oh, you’re definitely wrong there too. Fucked up beyond imagination, really.’

‘Mhm,’ she nods, matching his tease, ‘keep going. Your chances of never touching me again are really starting to sky-rocket.’

[drabbles-mc]

D, F, G!

Thanks for these! 🥰

D. Any drawings or pictures that had a big influence on your writing?: I feel like I'm always scrolling through pictures on different websites looking for inspo. However, this picture that i came across somewhere along the way

and it became a huge source of inspo for my OC Daniela!

F. What stories are you planning for the future?: As we all know I have a catastrophic number of wips 😂 But! s of right now, my main focuses coming into 2023 are: a Nacho x F!Reader fic, a Canche x OFC fic, and Steve Murphy x F!Reader fic, and my EZ Reyes x OFC fic Remind Me! I'm sure I'll put out other stuff and pluck away at things because focusing is not my strong suit. But those are my top priorities as of right now!

G. Where do you think you grew the most this year?: I think that I got better at putting down boundaries as a writer. I worked really hard on not feeling so compelled to write things that I didn't really want to write. It was tough for the people-pleaser in me, especially when it came to requests, but I definitely made some progress! And, in terms of actual writing skills, I think I definitely got better at getting out of my comfort zone with certain things. I did a few month-long fic-a-day challenges that really pushed me! And I did NaNo! So, all in all, a busy year!

End of the Year Writing Asks!

[artemiseamoon]

Death Kiss

Status: COMPLETE

Bishop Losa, Reyes brothers and Ocs | Mayans x Vampire (1998)

A mini fic | part of Frightfest | ✨✨A03 story link ✨✨| moodboards | Moodboards

Previews - tumblr main and @artemiseamoon-updates | Full works post to A03

Summary

Blu and the Sugarplums are hired for a private party that turns deadly. In the aftermath of blood and death, the survivors team up with vampire hunters for survival.

Overall warnings

vampire stuff, some gore, sexual situations, deaths, a person gets held up and their car stolen but w/o any physical violence (not diminishing how shitty that act is, but in case anyone is sensitive to that, know there is no violent act involved) accidents (like a car crashing)

Characters

There are a few, so below is a key if you need it, or to come back to it as you read.

Bishop and the Reyes Brothers

Their team of vampire hunters (only some mentioned by name like Jim, Chris )

My Ofcs: Blu and Luz (Blu is 38, Lux is 27)

The Sugarplums aka the working ladies, there are about 10 of them (only some mentioned by name like Luz, Hazel, Candy)

Side characters: Father Adam Guiteau, Sheriffs (Sheriff Perry), Deputies (Deputy Kyle), etc. , Father Gio

Mayans note

I did not have the heart to kill a bunch of the Mayans guys, I love them too much. So I am just using Bishop and the Reyes Brothers for this, the rest of their team is filled with made up side characters.

Tumblr previews (a03 links included)

Read directly on A03

Chapter one: sugarplum and blood

Chapter two: a place to lay low

Chapter three: it’s starting

Chapter four: welcome to the team sweetheart

Chapter five: end of the line

Chapter six: no going back

My main Oc, Blu

[brattyfics]

family day | writer wednesday

Pairing: Ezekiel Reyes x Black!OFC [Lena] Summary: Lena comes to the clubhouse to meet the guys. Tags: Angsty Fluff, Unresolved Feelings. Word Count: 1.5k

“Come by the clubhouse this weekend. We’re having a cookout. A family day.”

Lena tutted her skepticism while Ezekiel spoke. She had only caught glimpses of the Mayans’ gatherings, parties, whatever, but nothing about them screamed family-friendly. “Pops and Angel will be there.” She wanted to giggle at him using his father and brother as bargaining chips, but his voice had gotten more desperate with each word until he was almost pleading. She pouted on the other end of the line. He wasn’t playing fair.

“And most importantly...you?” Lena teased. He smiled. She could hear it in his tone. “Yeah. I’ll be there too. You?” She let out a dramatic sigh as if he were pulling her leg, but she had already made up her mind.

Since she and Ezekiel reconnected, Lena found herself in Santo Padre every other weekend. Usually, she arrived early on Saturday mornings, and Ezekiel held her close on his pull-out bed (which was surprisingly comfy considering). When they finally awoke for the day, he took her on little adventures. It was always something sweet and exciting-- an intimate ride on the back of his bike to somewhere beautiful. They revisited the beach, this time during the day. He chased her around in the sand, tickled her from behind in the salty water. Lena was able to stop and relax, see things she would never have been able to otherwise. It was so easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of city living. She missed the simplistic beauty of nature.

Other times, he took her places to remind her of the past. The Carnival they frequented as teenagers, to the old ice cream parlor down the street from his dad’s shop. They spent all the time they could together, and when Ezekiel was busy with club business, she spent the time with her parents, helping them out around the house with whatever she could. There wasn’t much to do, there had never been, but something about it was enjoyable. Being in Santo Padre felt like stepping into a time machine. Nothing had changed. It was psychological warfare on Ezekiel’s part, but Lena never called him out on it. So, she relented, the way she always did when it came to him. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

True to her word, Lena arrived at the Mayans clubhouse around noon, several homemade cakes in tow. Ezekiel met her outside as she was getting out of the car. “I didn’t know you still baked.” It had been a hobby of hers in high school, something inexpensive and fun to do while stuck in the house. Many things about her had changed, but some hadn’t. The thought made him smile. Maybe there was more hope for them than she thought after all.

“I told you, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“I know, but I don’t like to show up places empty-handed. Can you take this, please? I need to get the other boxes out of the car still.” Ezekiel scooped the cardboard cake box from her. She kissed his cheek in thanks. It was out of instinct, an old habit, but he froze.

“What, I can’t kiss you now?” Yes, they had been sleeping together. Quite often, actually. And they had been going out on what most people would call dates, but they hadn’t been kissing. Not really. It would make what they were doing real. Lena avoided it as much as possible to protect herself. But the lines had started to blur, and she couldn’t distinguish the nostalgia from her real feelings. She would have to make a decision soon.

Ezekiel took advantage of her being distracted, pushing forward until her back rested against the closed car door. He sat the cake box on top of the car. “You can kiss me as much as you want. I just prefer you do it...” His lips brushed against hers. “...here.” She couldn’t think about anything when he kissed her like that. Nothing but him, the way he tasted on her tongue, what he felt like up against her. She closed her eyes tight and tried to memorize it all, kissing him with just as much desperation.

“Damn, Prospect, I know you’ve been out of the game awhile, but you should at least get the lady inside the trailer first!”

And then Angel fucking Reyes had to go and ruin it.

Ezekiel broke the kiss with a groan, giving his older brother a scalding look over his shoulder. But Angel didn’t care about things like not interrupting people or being polite, so he made his way over to them anyway, clapping his baby brother on the back. “Give her some room, bro.” He tested his luck, elbowing Ezekiel to the side. He filled the space, pulling Lena into a tight hug before his brother could retaliate.

“Are you really using me as a shield right now?” She complained, arms loosely hanging at her sides.

“Yes. Now, hug me back.” Angel would hold onto her until she did what he wanted. She knew that for a fact, so she brought her arms up to wrap around his midsection. “It’s good to see you.” He mumbled into her hair. “You too.” And she meant it, squeezing him back before letting go.

“Ooh. What’s this?” He cajoled when his eyes caught sight of the box.

“Cake.” Ezekiel answered for him dryly.

Angel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, Boy Scout. What kind is it, Lena?” She glanced over her shoulder at it, to be sure. “It’s vanilla cake with buttercream icing.”

“Vanilla? Aww, man. Where’s the chocolate? You know that’s my favorite.” EZ cut his brother’s complaining short. “You don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“Shut up.” Two words from Angel was all it took for the two of them to start bickering. Angel grabbed for his brother’s thick neck, trying and failing to pull him into a chokehold. Ezekiel got the upper hand, and then the two of them were grappling, kicking up red dust in the process while they talked shit to each other. Lena sighed and stepped out of their way. “I see nothing’s changed.”

The sound of their scuffle gathered the attention of the other Mayans. Coco, who Lena thought she recognized as Angel’s friend, was among them. The shortest man of the group headed the bunch, kissing his teeth when he saw the fuss was just Angel and Ezekiel. Again.

“Break it up!”

Lena flinched, and she wasn’t even doing anything wrong! The brothers broke apart immediately, then sat down in the dirt, out of breath and wearing sheepish expressions. They were children. Lena refrained from the “If Marisol were here...” speech she so desperately wanted to give, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Hi, querida. You must be Lena.” The man introduced himself as Bishop, taking her hand to kiss.

“Oh, yes. Hi.” She squeaked out, suddenly shy. Ezekiel stood, grabbing hold of her waist, and took over the introductions. “Guys, Lena. Lena, this is...” He went down the line one by one, and she smiled politely and nodded along. She was flattered that they already seemed to be familiar with her. Ezekiel had to run around talking about her all day. The thought made her heart ache.

Bishop directed the guys to help her with the rest of the stuff. Tranq balanced a cake in each hand, Coco taking the bag with the cake cutters and plastic forks. Angel was pleased to learn that one of them had chocolate-flavored icing with yellow cake on the inside, just the way he liked it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Bishop told her with a smile, patting her hand one final time. “Nice to meet you too.” She called after him while Ezekiel muttered something under his breath in a grumpy tone.

Lena got to know their guys and their families. She learned she had met Coco before, and she got to meet his teenage daughter, Letty. She was sweet in an adorable, hissing cat sort of way. Lena teased Ezekiel about Letty having a little crush on him, but he denied it. Swore Letty just appreciated him for helping her out with something. He wouldn’t elaborate on what the something was.

“I get it now.” Lena told him when they found themselves alone by the abandoned fire pit. She sat on the wooden bench next to him, halfway into his lap, a warm flannel blanket on top of them. He watched her closely. “You do?”

“Yeah. You have a place here. Community. Family. It’s nice.” They had played a card game earlier. The guys traded friendly insults across the table, but it was all out of love. She felt it.

“Mhm.” He looked down and cleared his throat. “Does that change anything? For you?” Lena considered it, drowning in the hopefulness in his hazel eyes. How could she tell him no? Say goodbye forever to those eyes?

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure what I was expecting. Everyone’s so nice. Well, except Angel, but I already knew that.” Ezekiel smirked. “Yeah, he was born an ass.” He brought the cold beer bottle to his lips to sip, and then he got quiet.

“Do you think you’d like to come to another?”

Lena nodded. “Yeah, I think I would.”

Notes: Inspired by this week's prompt by @autumnleaves1991-blog. Card game is only briefly mentioned, but what can I say, I followed the muse?

@thesandbeneathmytoes​ This is for you. I’m slowly pulling it together. ❤️

General Taglist:

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes

[irrelevantwriter]

Angel’s Goodbye

Pairing: (Mayans MC) Angel Reyes x Latina!OFC

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluid, Angel being hot as fuck, Angel’s ringed fingers (bc that shit fucks me up hardcore)

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: A booty call. Porn without much plot.

A/N: Okay, so this is all Ashley’s @negansdirtygirl22​ fault! I had this fic more than halfway done and now that Ashley is thirsting over Angel’s fine ass like I am, I decided to finish and publish it. This is purely self-serving and I’m okay with that. Please read, enjoy, and share with your friends!

*Masterlist in bio.

*******************

Isabelle hummed softly to herself as she finished putting away laundry that had been sitting in a basket for nearly a week. The television was on in the background, but she wasn’t paying it any attention. The bedroom was awash in a soft light, the darkness of the late hour not lost on her. A small shiver ran up her spine as she walked on bare feet across the hardwood floors to put her clothes away. There was a slight chill in the air and she made a mental note to turn the heat up before she went to bed.

A door opening and closing within the house made her stop abruptly, the scrap of lace she’d been putting away clenched in her hand. The noise had startled her and she listened for just a beat before the sound of familiar voices eased her nerves somewhat.

“Angel?” She called out, stepping closer into the darkened hallway. Two figures stepped forward and Isabelle clutched her chest at the scare. The two men smiled down at her, one looking like a lovesick puppy and the other looking away out of respect for her state of undress.

“Hey, baby…” Angel rasped, his hands immediately coming forward to rest on her rounded hips. He leaned down to place a chaste kiss to her lips and her body responded automatically, reciprocating the action.

Isabelle looked behind him at the other man and smiled sheepishly, trying to use Angel’s body as somewhat of a shield to her scantily clad form. She was wearing shorts that were probably categorized more as underwear and a thin shirt that dipped low off one shoulder…not a bra strap in sight. It was her sleep attire and while not suitable for company, it was perfectly comfortable for bed.

“Hey, Ezekiel…” Isabelle gave a small wave and the younger Reyes returned it with a smile, trying to avoid looking at her naked legs. She belatedly realized she’d waved with the hand that still clutched a wad of black lace and hastily threw it onto the bed and out of sight. Both men smirked in amusement at the gesture.

“Hi, Isa…sorry to show up so late.” EZ apologized, knowing his older brother had not given Isabelle notice of their arrival, judging by her surprised reaction.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure my darling, thoughtful boyfriend meant to text me.” She said with a pointed stare and arched brow directed towards the man who still held her against him. His hands roamed towards her backside, a smirk planted firmly on his face as he stared down at her.

“I thought it. Did I do it? No.” He said with a smile. “You know me better than that, mi amor.”

Isabelle smiled up at him, unable to be mad at the love of her life for too long. And he was right, she did know him better than that…better than most.

“What’re you guys doing here anyway?” She asked, directing the question to EZ because Angel was too preoccupied with his hands on her ass to provide a real answer. Isabelle was just thankful EZ couldn’t see that his older brother was trying to grope her in front of him. Though he probably had an idea. And Angel had tried to do worst in front of his brother. He got some kind of thrill out of making EZ turn red, whether from anger or embarrassment.

“Pit stop, baby…on our way back to the clubhouse to handle some shit.”

Angel surprised her by answering, but she nodded in acceptance. It was nearing ten o’clock, but the MC forced the guys to keep strange hours. It wasn’t unusual for Angel to be in and out throughout the day and night. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d learned to deal with it.

“And your bikes? Didn’t hear them when you pulled up.” She inquired, squirming against Angel as he rubbed his facial hair against her neck. He knew what that sensation did to her and she pushed back against his chest to keep from moaning in front of EZ.

“Came in the van.” Angel mumbled, finally untangling himself from her. He moved so that EZ could see her full on and she struggled not to grab the throw blanket she kept at the end of their bed. EZ shook his head and laughed at his brother’s antics, all while still diverting his eyes away from her.

“I’m gonna go to the kitchen.” EZ called out, already turning away from them. The awkwardness of the situation was becoming far too apparent.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, EZ. And beer. Help yourself.” Isabelle called as he started to move further down the hall. He turned to nod his head in acknowledgment.

“Thanks, Isa.” He said, a genuine smile on his face. It warmed her heart. The younger Reyes seemed to be having a tough go of it as of late so anything Isabelle could offer to the man, who she also thought of as a brother, she would.

“Bout time…” Angel growled once EZ had disappeared into the kitchen. He attached himself back to her, his hands now firmly griping her ass and his lips connecting with the flesh of her neck. She was caught off guard as she gripped Angel’s shirt in her hands and struggled to get her bearings.

“Lil brother doesn’t know how to take a fucking hint.” He murmured against her neck. She laughed, but angled her face so that he was forced to look down at her.

“He does. He just does it to fuck with you…you both do.”

“Yeah well, I miss my girl.”

Angel’s voice was soft and low as he changed the tone of the room from playful to intense in seconds. She loved that about him. He would pick the most unpredictable times to be vulnerable with her. He trusted her enough to do that. It made her heart beat faster and her thighs clench in want. She’d missed him too.

“Did you bring your brother to a booty call?”

Her words made a real laugh break from his lips and she felt warm inside when the sound filled her ears. His face went back into her neck, his mouth not just ghosting across her skin anymore but now marking her. It was a clear display of ownership. Angel loved to flaunt her, case in point, the little display he’d put on in front of his brother, but he also liked to make it known that she was not on the market. The whole idea was incredibly sexist and barbaric, but she couldn’t help the rush of arousal that swept through her every time he marked his territory.

“Your brother is in the kitchen, Angel.”

The words were meant to be a stern warning, but they came out breathy and more like a moan. His tongue was lapping at her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His calloused hands ran up and down her back, his rings making her shiver as they ran across her now heated flesh.

“So, we gotta be quiet then.” He challenged, his hands already moving to the waistband of her black shorts. He was edging them closer to the bed while a foot kicked out and caused the bedroom door to slam shut. That had to be obvious to the man in the next room.

“Ezekiel’s gonna know what we’re doing.” She tried again, though she doubted she’d get through to him. And with the way he was caressing her, she didn’t think she wanted to.

“He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.” Angel whispered as he picked her up, allowing her legs to instantly wrap around his waist. Their lips finally met in the passionate embrace they were so used to and it felt like home. Isabelle got lost in all the sensations. She lost herself against his lips and tongue. She let her hands grip his thick strands of hair as he rubbed himself against her. The denim between them created a friction she wanted more of.

“Bed.” She demanded breathlessly, and he followed without hesitation. The soft mattress met her back as Angel laid her down. Her long, black hair fanned out around her as he hovered above her. His dark eyes watched her intently, his face not giving away anything. But Isabelle knew what he was thinking. She knew what he was feeling. Because she was thinking and feeling the same things.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

His voice was like grit and silk all at the same time. Years of smoking made him sound dangerous, but the emotion behind his words gave him away. Isabelle smiled almost shyly up at him through dark lashes. She could feel her body respond, her brain becoming drunk off pheromones. Lust and love had her spreading her legs, inviting him to the place she needed him most. He accepted the silent request and began to undress before her.

Angel’s eyes seared through her as he threw his leather off and worked the buttons on his flannel shirt. She watched, teeth biting her lower lip in anticipation. Tan skin with splashes of dark ink were revealed to her inch by inch. Her own dark eyes were feasting on the display. Even though she’d seen him naked a thousand times, she felt like every time was the first. It still felt new. He still made her feel the butterflies.

A crooked smiled crossed his lips as he removed his shirt and went to the buckle on his belt. Isabelle moved from her spot, eager to taste him. She moved towards him on her knees, his hands immediately steadying her as they settled around her waist. She only smiled up at him as she laid her lips across his scarred and tatted chest. A heavy hand tangled itself into her hair, rings pulling at the strands. A low groan escaped his lips as she moved over his chest and to the spot just below his ear that made him come alive under her touch. She licked a path from his collarbone to his neck, small hands sliding over the firm muscles of his abdomen. She let a delicate finger trace the trail of dark hair that disappeared under his jeans and his hand immediately tightened in her hair.

“I need you, querida…” A hand stopped her from continuing and she nodded. Foreplay was not a necessity at this point.

Angel gripped the edge of her shirt, dragging it slowly up her body. She could feel her nipples peak once the cool air met her overheated skin. His rough hands palmed each breast once her shirt was out of the way. She pushed herself further into him, urging him to be greedy and take all of her. His mouth descended on hers again as he went back to her shorts, now pushing them down to reveal herself. She maneuvered the shorts off her body, throwing them behind her.

Angel gently pushed her back onto the bed and she obeyed. He went to work on his own pants once again, his gaze never leaving hers. She could hear the thud of his boots as he removed them, his boxers and jeans following. He grasped himself, letting her see the effect she had over him. Isabelle moaned, intoxicated off the sight. She rubbed her thighs together impatiently, blood pumping to her center at an alarming rate.

“Ángel…” She purred softly, knowing the cadence in which she said his name would bring him to her. And it did. He moved over her, caging her in as he attacked her neck and chest. His facial hair scratched at her skin, but the burn only heightened her arousal. His hands moved everywhere and all at once. She returned the sentiments in kind. Her hands ran down his back, her hips arching up into his to persuade him inside. His hard flesh was nestled between her legs, teasing her opening.

“Ready for me, baby?”

His lips were right by her ear, pulling her further under the waves of passion she was riding. She answered him by opening her legs wider, ensuring he slipped into her slightly. It was a teaser. A promise of what was to come.

He groaned above her at the action. He sat up and gripped himself, rubbing along her swollen lips. He was coating himself in her essence, readying them both for the plunge. Slowly, almost painfully, Angel entered her. The feeling was euphoric.

“Fuck, baby…” He cursed lowly against her collarbone, forehead pressed tight to her cheek.

Isabelle moaned, limbs tightening around his body as he began to thrust lazily above her. She dug her nails into is back, aware of how much he was a slave to the sensation. She was awarded with a hiss and a sharp thrust of his hips, her cervix reaping the benefits. She bit hard into her lip as the sound of her slickened walls reverberated in the room, the sound of him entering her obscene.

“Oh, Angel…fuck, right there.” She whimpered, head thrown back so that his mouth could have free reign of her flesh. He was balancing over her, the angle of his thrusts now more pronounced. A heavy hand with thick silver rings came to her throat and rested there. Her pulse jumped at the action, inexplicably turned on by it. He squeezed lightly and a moan shot past her lips in delight.

“You like that?” He growled into her ear, hips punctuating his words.

Isabelle’s body answered for her as her walls clutched him tighter, a slight spasm rolling through her. She used her foot to urge him deeper, urged him to penetrate her soul. She knew it was impossible, but she could never get enough of him. He always left her craving for more, even after they’d both satiated the other. It was an ongoing cycle…one that she didn’t want to end.

The headboard began to thump against the wall with his rapid movements, his end nearing. Angel squeezed her neck again, tighter than the last, while his forehead rested against hers. The moment was highly erotic and it made Isabelle’s spine arch harshly off the bed.

She could see the comprehension in his eyes, recognizing how close she was. She watched as he removed his hand from her and brought it to his mouth, using his tongue to slicken it. Her eyes rolled back and her toes curled when she felt his calloused, spit-soaked fingers assault her clit. An unintelligible sound left her throat as she tensed and rolled with the waves of her intense orgasm.

Angel continued to fuck her through it, catching each contraction with his hips. Only towards the end, when her body was tremoring in small bouts, did he hold still. He looked down at her twisted body, a post-coitus glow now coloring her tan skin. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, her walls still fighting to suck him in.

“Damn, you’re still going.” He commented in amazement, eyes glued to where they were both still joined.

Isabelle whined as he began to move again to chase his own bliss. He stayed upright as he moved, captivated by the way she accepted him. She could feel the slickness between her thighs, aiding Angel’s thrusts. His hands held her wide, his tongue peeking from the confines of his bearded lips. A wayward strand of ink-colored hair fell into is eyes. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth as he moved inside of her, the chords in his neck prominent as he neared the finish line.

“Shit, baby…I’m gonna cum.” He breathed as he gave two more thrusts and stopped, gripping her fleshy thighs as he released within her walls.

She savored the feeling, watching from beneath hooded eyes as he threw his head back and gave himself over to her completely. It was a hypnotic sight and one she would never tire of.

He eased up his hold on her, red indentions in her skin replacing his fingers. She longed for his marks on her body, the proof that he was there before and would be again. He grimaced as he slowly eased out of her slack body, soaking up the way he spilled from her depths. He took his time. He always did. He had a fascination about teasing her body once he’d made her cum. It was deliciously cruel.  

She let out a wince as he rubbed himself against her, coating them both in stickiness. He bumped her abused clit and she jerked away, overstimulated and exhausted. He snickered at her reaction, pleased to see her so thoroughly fatigued.

“Ángel…you know how sensitive I get.” She gently chastised, unable to close her legs against his ministrations. He stood between them, hands now lovingly caressing her thighs and hips. He got especially tender after sex and liked to be constantly touching her in some form or fashion. It was a side to Angel no one but her got to see. And she was addicted to it.

“God, you look so fucking good like this.” His hands smoothed up her hips from her thighs, and finally to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, teasing her nipples back into hardened peaks.

Isabelle found herself blushing from both his words and his actions. The way he was staring down at her made her feel like she was the only person he saw…the only one he’d ever want to see.

“Lemme take a picture of you, mi amor.” He licked his lips seductively, attempting to persuade her.

Unfortunately, it was working. The man had swagger.

“En serio?” She threw back with a raised eyebrow. She had a smile on her face, finding his boldness amusing.

He continued to caress her body, going from her breasts and back down to her stomach and thighs. His hands were rough from hard labor, but he touched with a softness that made her beg for more. The man was a complete oxymoron. He looked mean. He looked tough. He looked like he’d kick your ass. But underneath he was the true definition of a gentleman. He spoke with wisdom that many overlooked. And he was always the first to show his love. He was hers. In every way possible.

“I can take it on runs with me. Something I can use when you aren’t with me.” He bent down and rubbed his facial hair into her neck, still trying to plead his case for a picture. “No one will see it but me.”

Isabelle found herself ready to say yes before he’d even started begging. The man was a charmer and he knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Hey, Angel! Bishop called. We gotta head out.” EZ’s voice suddenly cut through the mood and the closed bedroom door.

Angel sighed, knowing he’d lost his chance to convince her. She laughed, running her fingers through his hair as he collapsed against her chest.

“I don’t wanna go.” He pouted with a sigh, lips grazing the side of her breast. She smiled warmly at his reluctance to leave her, mirroring his feeling.

“Will you be home later?”

“Yeah, should be. If it changes I’ll let you know.” He replied sleepily, her motions in his hair causing him to become far too relaxed.

“You should go, mi amor…Don’t need EZ coming in to drag you back.” She joked as he began to lift himself from her body.

“Like to see him try.” He flirted with a wink, his hair now ruffled from her fingers. He helped her sit up, hands cradling her face. They kissed, tongues moving together in tandem. His fingers tangled in her hair, something she noticed he did often.

“Te quiero, mi dulce.” He mumbled against her lips, soft brown eyes reflecting the sincerity in his words and voice.

Isabelle caught his lips again, stroking his biceps. “Te quiero, mi Ángel.” She replied once they’d broken apart.

He began to get dressed, handing her clothes to her as he went. When the last button on his flannel was done, he moved towards her and kissed her quickly on the lips. Isabelle tightened the sash on her robe, forgoing redressing until she cleaned up Angel’s mess.

“We’ll finish that conversation when I get back.” He warned with a ringed finger pointed in her direction. A dangerous smirk adorned his lips, that playful look back in his eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” She teased, knowing she was a goner. “Cuidado.” She pleaded in a more serious tone, catching his eye as he walked to the bedroom door. He grinned, a mixture of love and mischief.

“Always am, baby.” He opened the door and shot her one last heart-melting smile before he was shouting for his brother. “Let’s go, Prospect!”

Isabelle shook her head and laughed, listening to them bicker as they left. She felt her cheeks heat when she overhead EZ teasing Angel about what he’d heard. Angel being Angel, only boasted, not the least bit embarrassed.

She listened to them drive off, heart swelling and thighs sticking. Angel always knew how to give the best goodbyes.

[mascaracoffee]

Fight ~Angel Reyes Imagine~

Summary: The boy from the wrong side of the tracks and the girl from the right side of the tracks. His world was dark and full of dangers she could never understand, but that didn’t stop her from trying. 

Angel Reyes x OFC (Emelda [ee-MEL-dah])

‘Can we talk?’

The three words glowed up at me mockingly as did the name of the sender;  my body’s reaction to the nine simple letters betraying my brain and sidelining any rational thought such as to pocket my cell and busy myself with patients or charting. No, instead pinpricks tickled down my spine, a flower bloomed in my stomach, and my ribs decided to give my heart a squeeze just as my phone vibrated, illuminating again in my hand.

‘Please.’

I captured my bottom lip between my teeth, my thumbs creating an awkward dance as they hovered across the touch screen, indecisive on which words to type.  My eyes flickered once more to the name typed above the messages.

Angel

If I thought long enough about the man who rode the fence in regards to his namesake, I could almost smell the cologne that tainted the air in his presence a mix of gasoline, grease, and the signature cigarettes he kept either pursed between his plush lips or tucked away in his jeans. If I focused long enough, I could almost feel the ghost of his calloused fingers tracing down my skin, removing my scrubs, kissing my skin. To remember was such a pleasure and a curse. If I remembered too long, then the pleasant memories I shared of the man quickly faded to those of the last time I saw him; bloodied, shirtless standing victorious over his opponent, Angel’s dark eyes blown with rage and possessiveness. For the first time, I was ever afraid of Angel Reyes.  

The night air was chilly, smoke wafting into the starless night as the crowd roared in delight in a scramble of English and Spanish.  I cowered further into Angel’s hoodie, pressing my side further into Ez, his thick arm wrapped protectively around me as he guided us through the crowd toward the cage. The closer we got to the alloy fence, the more distinct the grunts and curses were as fists met teeth and skin scraped along the concrete.

Underneath the bright lights, a tattooed form sat throwing weighted fists into the body below him. The form on the bottom I instantly recognized as the out-of-town Mayan that had exchanged crude words with me at the bar before throwing his beer on me, drenching my white t-shirt, but his true mistake was laying his hand on me, gripping my arm and pulling me into his frame aggressively.

Those events had led to now. Angel’s muscled form glistened in the light as sheens of sweat rippled along his inked skin. Cords of muscle flexing taunt as his bloody fist rose once more, leveling the planes of his opponents face. I winced, jumping as the out-of-towner managed to take a cheap shot into Angel’s ribs, the two struggling for dominance. A sickening grunt left Angel’s bloodied lips as his head snapped to the side due to a well-placed blow. Quickly, Angel lowered his stance and plowed through his rival bringing them both back down onto the concrete as more blows were delivered.

Bishop finally gave a signal, Coco, and Gilly each taking one of Angel’s arms and hoisting him away from the gory sight of the other Mayan. Angel’s face was contorted in fury, blood dripping onto his face creasing into the expressive lines of his face. He broke away from the two’s grip and began another, fast-paced brutal attack before being pulled away again. His pink stained teeth were grit together, as he spat at the Mayan. It was in that moment I realized the tears slipping down my cheeks accompanying the constricting tightness in my chest. It was too much; the fire raging in Angel’s eyes terrified me. 

The fighting, the loud cheering, my heartbeat pounding behind my eyes, my hands shaking as they covered my mouth as I took in Angel’s frame, his aggressive persona sending my brain into overdrive trying to process the Angel before me and the Angel I had come to love as the same person, the Mayan Angel was dangerous and lethal my Angel was funny and loving. I swallowed the searing bile down as I took in the opponents face bloodied and disfigured, painted in thick blood as he gurgled for air, bubbles of red-tinged spit popping from his mouth as he was sat up.

“Em?”

It was Ezekiel’s questioning tone that made me realize I was distancing myself, I had pulled away from his embrace and steadily moving further from the cage, my eyes locked on the product of Angel’s rage. I met Ez’s eyes and managed a shake of the head, more tears pooling down my face before I turned on my heel and dashed through the crowd away from the MC.

This barbaric, animalistic side was unfathomable compared to the charming, funny biker I had grown to adore. I knew of the club and where his loyalties lie but seeing him so ruthless and cold put things into perspective, the MC wasn’t just a motorcycle group, this was much larger than that. If I wanted to be with Angel, this life of violence would have to be something I would have to accept. I had sworn an oath to heal people and care for them being associated with this type of life just posed so many moral and ethical dilemmas.

Shaking my head to clear away the memories I turned back to my phone. With quick precise keystrokes I typed out my response before my brain caught up with my actions. The message was short and direct, lacking any emotion.

‘When?’

‘Nice going Emelda’ I thought to myself as I fell back into my chair, mentally exhausted ‘Can’t back out now.’

My phone buzzed again.

‘Tomorrow. Clubhouse. 8”

The Mayans MC clubhouse was alive with activity, the expected finding for a Friday night; a beer in every hand most often than not accompanied with tequila. The air was thick with marijuana and cigarette smoke mixed with cheap perfume as scantily clad women sought out men in leather like mice to cheese.

Angel Reyes left his dorm room adjusting his cut as he did fresh from the shower. He checked his phone ‘7:30’ glowing back at him.  A shaky break escaped his lips as his fished in his pocket for a smoke, greedily inhaling the fumes once lit.

“Damn bro” Coco drew out as he walked by, an arm slung around the shoulders of a redhead “Went a little heavy on the aftershave didn’t you?”

“Emelda’s coming,” Angel said through a puff of smoke, giving the only answer he thought relevant.

“Really?” Coco questioned, a lopsided grin playing on his lips. A nervous Angel was an uncommon sight. “When?”

Angel exhaled another thick cloud of smoke his eyes scanning over the room “She gets off at 7 from the hospital. Said she would be here at 8.”

“Well come on man” Coco clapped a hand on Angel’s shoulder “Let's pass the time with some poker, I want to try and win back the money I lost. Hey, bebe go grab us a couple beers will you?” The redhead nodded batting her eyelashes as she went to the bar.

The two Mayans took their places at the table, Angel choosing a seat with a clear view of the door. Angel accepted his beer with a nod and gulped it down his eyes glancing at his phone once more as he was dealt a hand. Only five minutes had passed. Sighing Angel scrubbed his hand across his face before turning back to his cards.

‘Just a little longer’

“Another beer?” he ordered waving the redhead down with the empty brown bottle. He sighed and turned back to the game.

Hours passed.  

Angel waited.

As Angel waited he grew nervous. His knee began to bounce and his fingers began to fidget. He checked his phone repeatedly hoping to see a message or missed call. Nothing.  Anxiously, with shaking fingers the Mayan dialed her number, the digits burned into his brain as muscle memory.

‘Hey, this is Emelda sorry I can’t talk right now. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you!’

Angel bowed his head and clenched his eyes tightly, thousands of possibilities forming through his head as he pressed his fist into his forehead.

What if she was done with him for good? He had never lived in a world without Elena, except for these past few weeks and they were torture enough.

Accepting a shot from Gilly, Angel threw it back smoothly enjoying the burn as he accepted another.

She couldn’t be done with him, she couldn’t.  Angel raked his long fingers through his styled hair and tugged at the strands desperately he decided to wait a little longer.

As Angel waited he continued to drink.

Emelda parked her car outside the club at 10:42. Her grey eyes scanned the area cautiously, taking note of the leather-clad men and practically nude women. Tugging her jacket closer to her she made her way toward the building entrance.  Every fiber of her being told her to go home and crawl in bed.  Right at shift change, just as she was preparing to walk out the door to meet Angel,  a patient coded before another patient began to hemorrhage which resulted in her late arrival. Her bed sounded much more appealing than the heated, heartfelt discussion that was no doubt about to happen.

Ez’s attention drew to the door as the raven-haired woman entered. He smiled softly at her appearance. She had gone all out on her look without going over the top, her natural curls had been smoothed out and hung looser, and more relaxed around her flushed face. A tad more makeup than he was accustomed to her wearing, highlighted her features. Despite her looks, she looked out of place in her jeans and cardigan as she quietly scanned the room, her arms wrapped around herself like a security blanket, her teeth embedded into her lower lip.  

Ez’s smile quickly fell once it clicked in his mind who Emelda was looking for.  

Angel.

Ezekiel looked to his right where Angel sat, blackout drunk, numerous beer bottles surrounded his person littering the floor and table mixed with shot glasses and abandoned playing cards Perched on his lap was the redhead. Angel’s mouth latched to her neck and chest sloppily before devouring her mouth, shimmery lipstick smearing onto both their faces, as his hands groped at her body hungrily. Ez quickly looked back at Emelda just in time to see her mane of curls disappear through the door.

“Emelda!” he called out as he ran through the door stumbling to a halt as he caught her at her car. Her form was shaking violently, her body retching as she emptied her stomach, her breath catching on sobs.  Gently, Ezekiel collected her hair from her shoulders holding it out of the way and rubbing soft, soothing circles into her back. She turned to him with a tight smile, his eyes capturing the slight quiver of her lip and her tear-stained cheeks

“Ez, hi” she tried to smile wiping at her glassy eyes and mouth with her sleeve, before wrapping them around herself again. “How are you?”

“You can cut the formalities Mell” Ezekial offered her a sad smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that. You ok now?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he jerked his head back towards the clubhouse, awkwardly searching for some sort of excuse for his older brother.  Emelda shook her head softly keeping her face downcast.

“He was really looking forward to seeing you-“

A humorless laugh escaped Emelda’s lips as she diverted her eyes to the side of him. “I could tell.” She bit out looking toward the ground to collect herself. “Well,” she sniffed “He got his message across, Angel Reyes can have whoever he wants, whenever he wants. No one girl is special, we’re all replaceable.”

“Wha-no! Mel he jus-“

“You don’t have to make excuses for him Ez” she shook her head sadly. Emelda took two steps toward the youngest Reyes, placing her chilly, petite hand on his neck as she stood and pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek  “Take care of yourself. Call me if you ever need a patch up.”

Leaving no room for argument, Emelda climbed into her car. Ezekiel cursed under his breath before storming back into the clubhouse, his sights set on his brother. Emelda had grown up with the Reyes boys after their mother had died; Elena took on a motherly role helping hold the family together, despite being Ezekiel’s age, she was a caregiver by nature. She came and visited him often in prison, brought a home cooked meal to Pops’ at least once a week, and tried her damnedest to keep Angel walking the straight and narrow.  The former having evolved into something more as time went on.

Emelda showed love through action, a theory she applied to everyone in her life. So Angel’s smut fest in the clubhouse, Ezekiel knew, hurt her worse than he would ever imagine and a wave of growing anger bubbled within his chest at the thought of Elena hurting, especially over Angel’s stupidity.

Emelda watched Ez’s broad frame retreat through the side mirror more tears falling with each step he took.  Once she could no longer see his brooding frame, all her tears bubbled to the surface in desperate, shaking sobs and chokes.  Her chest constricted tightly desperate to be rid of the cotton that seemed to be filling her lungs, the small wails passing her lips in a poor attempt to accumulate oxygen.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over her passenger window and the car shook as they slapped their hand onto the roof creating a loud bang. A small scream leaving her lips as her body jerked away from the noise.

“My bad!”

 Meanwhile, inside the clubhouse, Angel and the club hang-around was just as Ez had left them, sloppily exchanging lips and tongue, Angel’s hand stumbling over the redhead’s shorts that had been cut to resemble more of cheekie underwear than bottoms as her hand was hidden beneath Angel’s jeans stroking him. Their scene combined with the heartache and tears in Elena’s eyes fueled Ezekiel’s rage.

“What the fuck?” Angel roared, his alcohol-soaked brain taking a moment to register that lips were no longer on his skin and his dick was no longer receiving the proper attention. Ezekiel stood over him, eyes blazing nostrils flaring as he pointed a finger into Angel’s leather-clad chest.

“I better not ever” Ez snarled “and I mean ever hear you mention Emelda again. Not after that show you just put on. She didn’t deserve that you piece of shit!”

Only one word in Ezekiel’s rant registered in Angel’s mind.

“She’s here?”

Angel’s voice was soft, almost euphoric at the thought, the ghost of a grin pulling at his lips. He pushed off the chair, hands reaching to comb back his hair, legs swaying under his weight as he made an attempt to step toward the door on jelly legs.

Ez pushed his hands firmly into Angel’s chest, shoving the firstborn Reyes back into the chair, the wooden legs scraping the floor in protest against the force.

“Not anymore” Ez snarled reaching down and bracing his arms on the arms of the wooden chair to be level with his brother “She walked in here, hair and makeup all done, all for you. Looked like she was scared to death and what does she see? Good ole Angel practically fucking some other girl when he was the one to invite her here in the first place. She ran out of here crying, fucking made herself sick she was so upset.”

“She was crying?”

Angel’s voice was quiet and weak.  Even through his alcohol fogged mind the words Emelda and crying in the same sentence felt like a brick on his chest.

Ez nodded in response “Said you got your message across pretty clear. Said you wanted her to see you with some whore. Make her realize she wasn’t shit to you and you could have your picks to replace her with just as easily as snapping your fingers.”

Angel’s eyes were widened and glossy, his jaw slack; from the drink or emotion, Ezekiel wasn’t sure.

“That’s not true” Angel whispered, shaking his head, long fingers wrapping into his ebony strands. “That’s not true”

“Well hey” Ezekiel stood straight placing his hands on his chest, a hint of sarcasm dripping from his words “Don’t tell me that. I already know. She’s too damn good for you, for this, and you keep proving that over and over again Angel! ”

Angel looked down at his lap in thought, fidgeting with the ring on his finger when a small black mark at the junction of his thumb caught his attention.  The black ink was less than two months old, still vibrant and bold against his tan skin. A simple sun, the sun that gave light and life to the world, the same role that Emelda played in his life.

“I gotta talk to her” Angel decided, attempting to push himself upright, the force sending him stumbling into the nearby wall.

“Nah man” Ezekial shook his head catching his brother “You need to get in bed. Sleep off this drunkenness before you fuck up even worse with Mel. Think you’ve caused enough problems for one night.”

~*~

“So you were just going to leave again?” Coco asked his eyes, dark and daunting as he rounded the car to approach Emelda who was leaning against the driver’s side door.  Emelda normally felt comfortable around Coco but the way he was staring at her made her feel like a tiny insect under his boot, ready to be squashed at any moment.

A scoff passed her lips as she hung her head, kicking at the asphalt with the tip of her foot

“Angel will be fine without me” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly at the painful admission “ that much is obvious.”

She opened her car door and searched through the console, a triumphant ‘ah-ha’ escaping as she found a barely opened pack of cigarettes. Emelda wasn’t a smoker, but since splitting from Angel she found comfort in the thin, white cancer sticks. She had convinced herself it was a coincidence they happened to be the same kind Angel smoked.

“How do you know?” Coco challenged now standing face-to-face with the woman as he lit her cigarette for her. “You’ve never seen him without you but I have. It kills me to see my brother like that.”

“This life isn’t for me Coco” she shook her head as her gaze fell upon a topless woman who seemed to be prancing around in a pair of licorice underwear, bites seeming to be missing here and there.  “I don’t belong here.”

“But you belong with Angel” the Mayan urged “and he’s a part of this.”

Emelda sniffed shaking her head as she shakily brought her cigarette to her lips and took a small drag.

“He needs someone stronger than me. Someone who can handle all of this.” She rolled her wrists to indicate the clubhouse and packed parking lot. “An MC isn’t for me. I’m sorry that’s just how it is.”

Coco placed his hands on the woman’s shoulders “We’re not just an MC. We’re family. We take care of our own. When Angel chose you, you became a part of it. You have a family. We are your family, not just an MC. We love you, Angel loves you.”

“Then why did I find him seconds from fucking some other girl?” she snapped backfire fueling her words. “He doesn’t love me..”

Coco shifted his weight awkwardly; he didn’t like being the one under fire from the petite woman’s wrath. She reminded him of an automatic assault rifle; sensitive. One wrong move, their fury was unleashed.

‘I would rather the automatic right now’ Coco thought.

“Not to take up for him or anything, but you were late.” Coco shrugged “He thought you were ditching him. Got all kinds of loco thinking you were giving up on him, he started tossing drinks back like it was water. Called you over and over, when you didn’t answer he just went further off the deep end. Angel doesn’t have good coping mechanisms, you know that. He acts now, asks questions when convenient. He thought he had lost you and there was nothing at that moment to tell him differently”

“I had a patient dying on me, I have a responsibility!”  Emelda barked “Then my phone was dead and I had no way to charge it! This piece of shit barely picks up radio forget about charging a cell phone! I told him I would be here, didn’t I? When have I ever lied to him?”

Coco shrugged puffing a deep drag.

“You may not have lied to him, but you’ve left him before. ”

Smoke filtered around his words as they stung Emelda’s skin, a visible flinch shivering through her body.

“That was different” Emelda growled, fresh tears pricking her eyes “Besides, he has to learn just because things don’t go the way he was planning isn’t reason enough to throw in the towel on everything! He has to show he still cares, that he wants to fight for us! If he cares he can’t give up so easily!”

Emelda’s chest heaved, tears rolling down her cheeks. Coco looked at her with a small smirk playing on his thin lips as he removed his cigarette.

“Then why are you?”

“Wh-what?” Emelda whimpered staring at Coco with glassy eyes.

“If you care, which you obviously do, you can’t give up on him so easily.” Coco approached her slowly, placing both hands on her shoulders, shaking her softly to try and add emphasis on his words as he lowered his head to meet her gaze.

“Fight.”

A scoff passed her lips.”Fight? What for? I can’t live like this, worried everytime he goes out that hes with some other girl.” Emelda choked covering her mouth “I fought, I came her tongiht to fight! “

Emelda shook her head and flicked the remainder of her cigarette to the groud and reaching for the car door.

“I’ve already lost.”,